#like how the doors only open if you like. put in the work or whatever.

[monstersholygrail]

New City, New Life

5k celebration 'Choose your own adventure' story

Dragon x fem!reader— hate fucking, rough sex, marking, fire breath play, restraints (tail)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

You stomp out of Minotaur Boss’ office in a blind rage. Your vision blurring with either anger or arousal, you’re not exactly sure. The sound of the door slamming open doesn’t attract any attention, your coworkers far too busy fucking to watch how hot you look when mad. But you can’t help but watch them, eyes drawn to the carefree way they drown in their pleasure. Caring more for satisfying themselves than continuing to work their job.

It was simply astonishing. They all hold a freedom you’ve never known. Not until yesterday when you got here, that is. The longer you stare the hotter your body grows, your pussy gushing with arousal. You feel your world spin, trying to accommodate to your new reality as you would have to accommodate a massive cock. Your thoughts quickly stray away from your mission, the arousal overtaking the anger brewing within you.

For a moment you seriously consider joining one of them. If this is your new life, who’s to say you shouldn’t take advantage of it? You bite your lip, slowing your pace as you walk past a pair of Cat Hybrids who look like they’re in heat.

No—

You can’t risk getting too distracted right now. You had to go confront your Dragon Headhunter and maybe, just maybe, you can blow some of this steam off on him. In whatever form that may take. With a deep inhale you try and clear some of the lust clouding your mind. You turn back toward the conference room, intent on going in, when you immediately bump into a man devouring someone like it’s his last meal.

A small yelp leaves you as you go flying back, not wanting to interrupt, but you quickly lose your footing and once again go tumbling to the ground. You briefly wonder if that sexy Secretary Bunny will catch you again. No! Focus! But then a pair of hands are on you and your heart, and your pussy, flutters.

The stranger’s hands quickly switch you around, causing you to plop firmly in his lap as you straddle him. A moan freely slips past your lips as you already feel his fully hard cock beneath you. As your head snaps up to look at your new rescuer your jaw drops, your eyes sweeping over his infuriatingly and impossibly perfect features.

But unlike everyone else you’ve met in this city… he appears perfectly human. That is until his eyes flicker, his pupils forming a small flame to reflect his burning desire. He wasn’t a human, he was a robot. No wonder he’s the most perfect specimen you’ve ever seen. You glance down, eyes trailing his form when you notice his IT badge. How ironic.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the main event falling right into my lap,” he purrs, voice smooth as silk as he leans in, brushing his nose along your jaw.

A small whine leaves you, his skin impossibly smooth against yours. Your eyes flutter and you hate how easily you melt against him. An IT Robot shouldn’t be so damn comfortable. You find yourself baring your neck to him, seeking more of his touch. His dark chuckle vibrates against your skin and you shiver, unintentionally grinding against him. Or was it on purpose? Fuck, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

“Technically you got me into your lap,” you sigh with bliss, your brain only growing fuzzier the longer you stay in his embrace.

It was like he knew exactly where and how to touch you. You were sure it was just from some strange programming he’s downloaded but who were you to question it? The IT Robot’s touch slips beneath your shirt and his large hands caress your curves reverently.

“And what else can I get you to do with me?” IT Robot’s voice rasps and curls into your ear as if putting you under a spell. A spell called his cock. He rolls his hips as he speaks, pressing his hard length roughly against your clothed clit.

“Nngh… N-nothing! I have to go, but damn I wish I didn’t,” you say through gritted teeth.

You force yourself out of his lap, your body vibrating and your cunt pulsing with need. You push the office chair he was sitting in away from you and he laughs. The chair stops as it bumps into another person but his eyes don’t stray from you.

“You’re always welcome, doll.”

It takes all the strength left in your tired and yet still somehow horny body to turn away from the sexy IT Robot but you do. You keep your eyes firmly trained on Conference room D, determined to see this through. Your Dragon Headhunter is the only one right now who deserves the impact of all your pent up emotions.

As you near the door, you stop short, surprised when it opens. For a second you wait with bated breath, wondering if maybe the Dragon Headhunter is looking for you too. You don’t even question the way your pussy floods with arousal. But your stomach drops as a Fae walks out of the conference room and sneaks off, not even seeing you staring after them.

Your fury returns tenfold to the point where you can’t even think straight. You rush for the door, barging in and smashing it closed behind you. The Dragon Headhunter jumps from the noise, lazily glancing over his shoulder at you. Your eyes automatically widen, a gasp leaving you as you finally see him in person. You’d video called dozens of times yet it all paled in comparison to seeing him face-to-face.

He was broad and painstakingly attractive. His scales glimmer in the sunlight that streaks in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. His suit fits tight against his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination of what lies beneath. The fabric clinging to his thick ass and strong thighs. A slow smirk forms on his lips. The sight has you shuddering where you stand and it only serves to make you more angry.

“Well, if it isn’t my newest treasure…”

Your eyes flash, focus returning back to his face. Just in time too to see the smug look painted across his face. You’re in front of him in an instant only to push him back. The creature barely even moves. He sways, although you know he only did it for your benefit.

“Where have you been? You have no idea what’s happened today?” you ask lowly, hands shaking from your anger. Sure, the dicks been great, but this wasn’t how you expected your new life to start.

It’s Dragon Headhunter’s turn to look you up and down, noting your disheveled appearance and lustful expression. It has his smirk growing somehow wider across his face. He crosses his arms, admiring what he’s done to you, what this city has turned you into.

“I believe I have an idea.”

The air grows thick between you and the Dragon Headhunter. You can barely breathe, only managing short shaky breaths as you stare each other down. Your skin burns under his gaze but you refuse to squirm and let him win.

“Of course you do. ‘Cause you fucking tricked me into coming here. Why?” You ask firmly, finally demanding answers from him. You won’t be leaving here without them. And you’ll do anything to get them.

You slowly walk up to him, trying your best to intimidate a beast such as him. But all you do is make yourself feel smaller as he towers over you. The height different has your pussy clenching around nothing. His nostrils immediately flare and you know he can smell how turned on you are. You cry out and push him back again with all your strength.

“Why?!” You demand with a ragged shout.

Without a single word, Dragon Headhunter swoops down and claims your lips in a searing kiss to shut you up. A low moan rumbles through your throat and the Dragon responds with one of his own. One that has you turning to mush in his arms. Your mouths clash together as they fight for dominance. The Dragon’s claws sink into the flesh of your wide hips and he whirls you around, pressing your ass into the conference room table.

Dragon Headhunter ravages you, his tongue swirling through your mouth as if trying to taste every last bit of you. He pushes against you harder and harder until he growls and lifts your plush frame up like it’s nothing and drops you easily on top of the table. You grunt and throw his arms off of you, forcing him to kiss at your pace. His claws sink into the wood and screech loudly as he drags them down, trying to resist grabbing at you again. But as you suck his tongue into your mouth he can’t take it any longer.

He pushes you all the way down on the table with as much as a small shove. You cry out as you go flying back, glaring at him. Dragon Headhunter starts furiously trying to shred off your clothes. You grunt and wrestle against him to get your clothes off without ruining them. He doesn’t bother, shredding his own clothes with a few swipes of his claws. You two glare at each other even as lust fills your gazes. He jerks your legs open to reveal your glistening folds and smoke leaves his snout with his huffs.

“This is where I fucked that pathetic little fae and now it’s where I’m gonna give you their sloppy seconds,” he snarls in your face and you grit your teeth. Your stomach churns with a jealous rage.

Before you can snap back at him, Dragon Headhunter snaps his hips forward, impaling you on his massive cock with a solid stroke. Fire shoots from your core and burns through your entire body. A fierce scream echoes off the walls and your pussy spasms around his girth as your body tries to adjust to being split open on his cock.

But the Dragon barely lets you take a breath before he’s rearing back and snapping his hips back against yours. You groan lowly, actually thankful for all your previous lays today as they helped prepare you for this. Your pussy opens up for him, allowing him to drive in even deeper inside you with each movement. Letting your fury fuel you, jerk your hips, meeting his thrusts. The Dragon’s eyes roll back in his head.

“F-fuuuuck— augh— knew this fuckhole was gonna be good without even seeing it. Looked like a damn slut who’d take anything given to them,” he says darkly, his tongue slipping as he gets more and more lost in the pleasure of your cunt.

Your eyes narrow at him, no matter how good he’s making you feel. Each pump of his hips brushes along every nerve in your core and it sends you flying, your body shaking with unimaginable pleasure. Your sopping cunt sucks him back in with every thrust, needing him inside you despite everything.

Wanting to drive him to the brink of insanity, your hands snap out and sink in between his sensitive scales. The Dragon throws back his head and lets out a ferocious roar. Then he falls forward, elbows caging you in and rutting up into your perfect pussy.

“Tell me why you sold me on this job. Did you think I was right for it?” you ask lowly, your breaths mingling with your close vicinity. Needing to ask and know the truth.

Dragon Headhunter chuckles and your pussy flutters around him, making him groan. He leans in and bites down on your neck, marking you with the memory of this moment. Then he leans back enough to look in your eye to deliver the blow.

“Nah, I just wanted this sweet cunt,” he says breathlessly, his words so simple yet infuriating. You dig your nails into the flesh beneath his scales the Dragon groans in pain, his hips surging forward into your tight heat.

“Fuck you.”

Dragon Headhunters eyes burn brightly, finally matching the anger in your own gaze. He smirks wickedly, flashing his fangs at you in a clear threat.

“Gladly.”

His tail whips out, quickly wrapping around your wrists and pinning you to the table. With a growl that sends chills up your spine, the Dragon picks up his pace, fucking up into you with a stamina your poor human body can barely handle as it jerks up with every thrust. A loud mewl rips from your throat as his cock bullies into your cervix with each stroke. His eyes gleam devilishly as he watches how much of a mess he’s turning you into.

But it’s not enough. His free hand flies to your puffy little clit and rubs your bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts. Your jaw drops, all the sensations building up inside you have you nearly losing your mind.

You scream in relief a when you finally fall off the edge. Your body shaking, hips rising off the table with the force of your orgasm. For a moment you see white and you hear the Dragon roar once more as he follows right after you. And when you open your eyes you gasp to see fire shooting out from his throat, teasing you. The heat it emits just turns you on even more, prolonging an already intense climax.

It’s only once you finally come down from the high of a lifetime do you seem to gain common sense again. You huff, your anger still palpable but more half-hearted as you tear yourself away from him. You slide off the table, heading toward your discarded clothes, needing to get out of here.

“I’m leaving,” you announce, quickly sliding your clothes back on. Ignoring the way your combined release drips out of you and pools in your panties.

“You’re under contract, sweets,” Dragon Headhunter replies, his tone filled with amused arrogance.

You whip around to face him yet unable to reply. He’s right. You’re stuck here. But is it really that bad that you are?

Seeing your hesitance to reply, thoughts clearly spinning through your mind, Dragon Headhunter smirks and saunters up to you in all his naked glory. “Welcome to Free Use City. Embrace it.”

Leaving the conference room you think over what he said. This was your chance at a fresh start and you wanted to make the most of it. In a Free Use City you guess that meant fucking strangers. Truly embracing the city for what it was and what it offered. You could do that! In your office building alone there were hundreds of people to choose from. You look around the office, wondering if IT Robot’s offer was still on the table. He’s bound to know everything about pleasuring a human. Or perhaps you could find Bunny Secretary and see if you could throw yourself at him again. And well… there was always that Demon Guard you passed on the way in. You’re sure he could show a sinful time.

[mxtantrights]

estoy rendido del amor de una mujer

a/n: he got me y'all don't look, I'm down bad. so basically this is just a one-parter. I don't know. If you ask for a part two or if I see y'all like it maybe I can whip something up. lets just see how it goes.

and for the sake of this story: Armando didn't kill the captain, and he's out on some 'good behavior' deal and helping Mike and Marcus with cases linked to the cartel.

Armando Aretas x fem!reader

SUMMER 2023, MIAMI FLORIDA

You almost got burned tonight. A rookie cop saw you, and the heat you were packing and tried to arrest you. After hastily explaining to him that you weren't packing for no reason, he let you go. But you had missed an important meeting.

It had taken you two years to get into German's inner circle. German is a big player in the Miami scene. He's not known for being a trusting person. But he does have a thing for high ranking positions of power and women. Deadly combination, which was what you used.

Although he's putting you on the back burner after tonight.

You sigh and slot your key into the lock. The lock doesn't turn. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You take out your knife, not wanting to make too much noise for your neighbors.

Slowly you ease into your apartment. You look around quickly. The four corners of the living room are clear. Then again they would be, anyone who was lurking inside could be seen from the window.

You had your knife up as you tip toe into the kitchen. And there you find them.

Mike and Marcus. And they brought company. Three other people you don't know in your house. Your undercover house. They are all looking above something on the table, too occupied with it to notice your arrival.

"Oh what fresh hell is this." you say.

They all turn around.

Mike smiles, "I was just telling the crew about you."

You hold up you hand, "Whatever the hell this is, is gonna fuck with my shit so you need to go. Now."

"Langauge! I thought I told you that last time." Marcus shouts.

You put down your knife with a sigh.

"I've been working this guy for two years, and if he sees two cops coming out of my apartment I'm done. I'll curse if I want to curse." you explain.

The tall blonde man raises his hand, like he's in school. Your eyebrows raise in surprise as you look at Mike and Marcus.

"Dorn, you don't have to-just say what you want say man." Mike says.

The man, Dorn, nods his head and then looks at you.

"We know you're after German. And we're not here to cause any trouble but we just needed to ask for any information you have on his right hand man." Dorn says.

He picks up a tablet and shows you a picture. You look at the screen and then back at Dorn.

"Do you know him?" the woman asks you.

"That's Nico, they call him Nissan. Well, called. German found out he was skimming some off the top and lets just say he's not on vacation right now." You answer.

Mike groans, "He was our only way in."

"Into what? What have the two of you old-timers got yourself into this time?" you ask.

Mike and Marcus start arguing loudly when you call them old. You snicker as you reach into your fridge and look for the last Corona you had. When you find the bottle is not inside, you close the fridge door.

Your eyes scan the counter top, to see if you maybe left it out. But you don't find it. So you look over at the table. You find it there, opened and empty. Next to the unknown male in your kitchen.

You meet his eyes.

"You drank my beer?" you ask, though it's not a question.

He smirks and tilts his head at you. "Problem?"

You roll your eyes. Then you walk over to Marcus and Mike.

"I've told you that he's dead, so he can't help you. Neither can I. Yo've gotta go now." you say.

"No no no, hold on. If Nico is burned then the only one who can help us is you. We just need some files-" he speaks but you cut him off.

Burned. Nico is burned. He was an informant? German definitely didn't know that. Or if he did, he is keeping it close to his chest. Christ.

"Do you want me dead?! German either killed Nico knowing or not knowing that he was an informant, but either way he's dead. If I go snooping around I can just drive myself over to the morgue." you argue.

"She's got a point." Dorn says.

You turn to him, "Thank you, tall International man."

"Dorn is not international, but that's not the point. The point is, you have an in. And we need you." Marcus says.

You sigh. They need an in when you're not exactly in German's good graces. Great. Not only would you have to work your way back but you'd have to work under pressure.

"He'll smell her from a mile away." the unknown man says.

Mike looks over at him, "She's very good at what she does."

"Cops tend to have a tell." The man shrugs.

"She's not a cop. She's a freelancer." Marcus answers.

"And the best one I know." Mike tags on.

No doubt buttering you up. You groan. Yes, you liked being called the best at what you do. And it wouldn't take much to get info. You have the access. You'll be under a close eye but you can pull it off.

"Tell me what you need and when you need it by." you say.

-

2 DAYS LATER, MIAMI

You pulled the straps of your dress tighter. No wonder needed them to be 'loose' for an accidental cleavage slip.

The compute chimed and altered you that the information was done copying. You ejected the thumb drive and stuffed it into the fake juul packaging. You closed all the windows on the computer and pressed restart.

Now came the hard part. You smoothed out your dress and walked over to the door. You checked between the blinds and made sure no one was coming this way.

It's not like you couldn't be in the office. If someone a bit lower than you saw you coming out you wouldn't be questioned. But if someone higher than you in ranking saw, they might be curious.

You exit the office and turn down the hallway. Taking the way with the most witnesses as possible, more people to account for you later on.

Into the blue room, where you pass the exotic dancers. Then though the 'greenery' room, where some workers are watering the plants. Finally through the purple room where the weapons are stored.

You make it all the way outside with no one stopping you.

With a sigh of relief you quick walk to your motorbike. You take out your helmet and put your bag into the storage underneath the seat. Without another thought you get on your bike and ride out of the compound.

You ride from South Miami to your apartment near Hollywood.

When you get there, you go around the back. Better to let everyone think you weren't here than you were. Who knows who could be watching you.

You come in from the window in your bedroom. And somehow it feels like you're intruding because here he is. In your room.

Mike told you about him, a little. Armando is his son. His son with the cartel woman he was seeing way back when that he didn't know he had. He's done things, bad things. But he's making up for it.

Making up for it by sitting at your computer in your room.

"Oje, get the hell out of here!" you shout.

He turns to you slowly. You hate his cocky attitude. You hate his smirk and how he keeps eye contact with you. You step fully into your room and slide the window closed behind you.

Armando gets up from the seat with his hands up, "Lo siento,"

"You're not sorry, otherwise you wouldn't have found your way in here in the first place." you speak.

He looks you up and down. Yeah it was probably the dress. It's summer time in Miami and you weren't about to put on a sweater. You'd have to blend in and a sundress was about as normal as ablue sky here.

"You know spanish?" he asks.

You start walking away from him, "This is Miami."

You take out the thumb drive and open the door to your room. When you stop walking, you hear him laugh to himself. You watch him walk through it first and then you after him.

"Mike, I got it." you say as you walk into the living room.

The shades have been drawn and the black out curtains too.

"I ever tell you you're the best?" he jokes.

"Yeah every time you need something." you reply.

You hand the drive to Dorn. He takes it and plus it into his computer. You watch as the flies pop up on his screen. He seems to be reading them a mile per minute.

"What'd you want with all that anyways?" you ask.

You watch as Marcus and Mike share a look between themselves. It unnerves you. You know they have a way of talking without sharing words. It's what happens when you work with someone for so long.

Marcus smiles and claps his hands together, "Mike thinks I should be the one to tell you. Because he has a more salp-able face."

You squint your eyes.

"Are you about to screw me?" you ask.

"Not per say, but you might not like what we have to say." Marcus ushers you to the kitchen.

The two of you walk all about two steps in before he's unloading on you. He starts off pretty strong, that you''re more than capable of handling German. And that you put in the time for it too.

But then he's telling you a different story.

German is in connection with a guy they're looking to take down. Something about a syndicate. Something about getting both of them at once. And Mike and Marcus have the backing of the PD.

You can feel the steam coming from your ears.

"Marcus you can't be trying to poach my guy right now!" you yell.

"The yelling, keep it down, you're undercover after all." He holds his hands up in defense.

You cross your arms over your chest, "You don't even know who I'm working for."

"Well, it's not someone who's paying you that's for sure." He divulges.

All at once he realizes he probably shouldn't have said that. Because if he knows you're not getting paid for this job then he's went though your bank statements. And probably a lot more.

Your eyes widen and your turn around and run into the living room. There you find Dorn, hiding behind Mike, with his computer in hand.

"You got beanstalk here to go through my stuff?!" you yell.

Mike pushes Dorn back even further.

"Look, we needed to know if we were stepping on government agency toes. And now we know we're not." Mike answers.

You leap to pounce on him but Marcus is faster and grabs you by the waist. You fight against him a little, knowing the he's probably gonna feel it tomorrow morning.

"That's an invasion of privacy. But I guess like father like son, since this one was in my room when I got here." you shout.

Mike looks at Armando, "Now, I told you to get out of there."

Armando shrugs.

"I'm sorry. But listen you can still be part of it." Mike says.

"How nice of you Mike. I'll be sure to thank you when we're done." you spit sarcastically.

Marcus lets you go and you decide to take a seat on the couch. Dorn frees himself from the corner of the room and takes a seat in the arm char that is farthest from you.

"You never take a job for free. What gives?" Mike asks.

You roll your eyes. It's not like you were money hungry. Yes you needed money to survive but you weren't broke. You could afford to not work for the next ten years if you wanted to. But you'd miss it too much.

This isn't that though. This isn't fun.

This is revenge.

"I thought you read through my stuff. You didn't put it together?"

"It's revenge." Armando answers.

You turn around from your seat on the couch and look at him. He's looking right back at you. He probably didn't read your file, probably was too boring for him. But how'd he figure it out?

It's not like you left the reason on your computer. You wouldn't make such a rookie mistake.

"How'd you figure that out? Did you find her moodboard?" Marcus jokes.

You pass him a look. He takes a step back.

"Alright, alright, no more jokes about the mood board. Got it." Marcus says to himself.

"What other reason could she be doing this for?" Armando asks.

"It's been twelve years. I spent ten years tracking him down and two years infiltrating his circle. He has no clue who I am. None." you start to explain.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't in your file. Who are you?" Dorn asks.

"Well she was leader of the dirty dozen in New York. Highly effective tactile group, skin ranging from murder, assassinations, weapon making, and a whole lot more." Mike says.

"And when the group cut ties, she ran the underground for a bit. Nothing happened without her knowing it." Marcus adds on.

"Not a cop." Armando says.

"I'm the daughter of German's former right hand man." you answer.

Which is why it stung a lot that Mike and Marcus wanted to take this case from you. Knowing who you are and knowing what it means. You worked for this. And you're gonna see it through come hell or high water.

-

THE NEXT NIGHT, MIAMI

Mike and Marcus were all set with their crew. German would never allow them to step foot into his compound but lucky for them they don't have to.

You snuck in last night and triggered the sprinkler system. Everything got flooded. So while German is getting everything cleaned up and possibly looking for a new base of operations, he's hanging out with a buddy.

Zio. Money hungry drug mover. Only thing he loves more than money and drugs is his expensive shoe collection. Which he's putting on display tonight.

A rich man's party is the best place to re-con. You told Mike and Marcus how many men German has on him at all times, but that doesn't give them much for when the time comes to take him down.

What's their tactical response like? What weapons do they bring on the move? How many cars? Things like that. Which was smart thinking and not at all on your mind when you first started this.

Armando leans back in the van's chair, man spreading. You roll your eyes but you say nothing. You weren't really trying to talk to him. Lest he find out more about you.

He seems to be tapped in to you. Which is weird. You've never had someone checking for you before.

"I can hear you rolling your eyes from here. What's up? he asks.

He spins around in his chair and faces you. Smug look on his face as he leans back.

"Nothing. Just want to get this over with." you say.

He nods once, then he creeps closer to you with his chair. He's about a foot away from you.

"You wanted to be the one to kill him." he muses.

You look at him, "Well yes. It was my mission. I found him. I infiltrated. I lost someone to him."

"It won't make the pain go away." he says.

"Oh please don't give me the 'revenge will just turn into guilt' talk. I got it from Mike and Marcus." you sigh.

Before you can blink or think of anything else to say, you feel your chair being pulled to the left. You grab onto the only thing in view and that happens to be Armando's leg.

"If I get him in my crosshairs, I'll hand the shot to you." he says.

You look him in the eyes, "Do you want a thank you or something?"

He smiles, "No te preocopes, no quiero nada."

"It doesn't seem like you don't want anything." you reply.

The back door of the van opens and he lets go of your chair. You slide back a bit to put some space between you two. He turns back to the screen in front of him.

-

THE NEXT MORNING, MIAMI

The steam from the shower wafts out the bathroom. You wrap your towel around your body a little tighter as you walk into the kitchen. The tea you were making is beyond ready, the kettle at this point screaming at a frequency only dogs can hear.

You turn it off and set it aside.

As your reaching for your favorite mug, you hear faint noises from the front door. You run over to the dinning room table and reach underneath the wooden chair. Your fingers wrap around the gun and you pull it close.

One swift check and the safety is off. You crab walk to the other side of the kitchen counter, away from the door. The noise becomes louder until you hear the door open.

"Shit, where'd she go." a voice says.

A voice, you know it. You get up from your position on the floor and look around the wall. Armando.

"What the hell are you-" you're about to ask.

"We need to go. now. No time to pack. Put some clothes on." He directs you.

He almost gives you no say when he grabs you by the elbow and maneuvers you into your room. He closes the door behind him and takes out his gun.

"Am I just supposed to undress in front of you?" you question, with your eyebrow raised.

He lets his arms fall to his sides. Then he walks over to the window, allowing you to walk over to the closet. You pull the door open and grab the first pair of jeans and shirt you can find.

Making sure he's actually turned first, you then put on your underwear and bra. Then you pull the shirt over your body, lastly your pants.

You walk to your dresser and reach into the cabinet. The noise must alert him that you're dressed because he turns around.

"We don't have time. You got made." Armando says.

"What the fuck do you mean I got made?" you ask.

"What I said. You're not safe here." he answers.

You grab your go-bag and move over to the window. Chest to Chest with Armando you look up at him.

"Where the hell am I gonna be safe then?"

He doesn't answer you. Maybe because he didn't have an answer. Or because the bullets started raining into your apartment right on time. Then he was nudging you out of the window and down the fire escape.

-

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, UNAMED MOTEL, ORLANDO

You put your bag down on the floor. The bed looked horrible. But horrible would have to do for now. You can't really make requests on the run.

Armando shuts the door behind him.

"Since you paid you can take the bed." you say.

He scoffs, "I'm not that kind of man."

You look over your shoulder, "Just one that snoops through my personal stuff and ignores personal space."

He says nothing. He walks silently into the bathroom and closes that door behind him too. You sigh and plop down onto the bed. You didn't understand.

Before Mike and Marcus showed up you were on track to get revenge within the next two weeks. Everything was set. There were backup plans. They were contingencies.

Now it was all shot to hell.

You hear the shower start up and lean back into the bed. And without meaning to you end up falling asleep. Right there on your back.

Armando comes out of the shower about five minutes after that. The soap sucked and the water had no pressure but at least he didn't feel like the sweat was clinging to him anymore.

He walks out of the bathroom and finds you laying on the corner of the bed. He looks you over once and crosses the room to cut off the lamps.

When the room is dark, he takes one of the pillows from the bed and sets himself up by the door. His gun tucked to his hip. This way he can keep an eye on the door and you.

You were interesting to say the least.

Usually people don't affect him this much. He can get on with his day and do what he has to do. Nothing comes in between him and a mission.

Especially now when his only mission was his freedom.

But there was something about you. Or, that's not really true. There were multiple things about you. He could see the lust for revenge in your eyes, he recognizes it well. He could tell you weren't being forthcoming either.

And he liked how you spoke your mind.

Liked? Why is he saying liked?

He doesn't really know you. He knows a little bit. He knows you only like tea, there is no coffee in your apartment. And you live in sweatpants when you don't have to be undercover. You also seem to have an aversion to the color blue.

He doesn't really know you. He can't like you.

He looks over at your sleeping form. How your lips part just a little bit and you snore. And your head leans to the right, your dominant side. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable and move you. But he knows you'll wake up sore from sleeping this way.

So he gets up. He gets up because he needs to stretch his legs. Not because of any other reason.

He walks to the bathroom and turns on the light and the vent. Hoping the sound will rouse you and you'll move on your own. He steps into the bathroom and closes the door with a bit more force than needed.

He looks into the mirror. He looks himself in the eyes.

This is bad. This is bad because you're the type of girl he would take a bullet for.

-

THE NEXT MORNING, ORLANDO

"Mike-"

"I fucked up. I know you wanted this, and I took it from you when I should have let you handle it."

"Mike-"

"And now you're on the run. You've never been burned before, and it's because of me."

"Mike!"

"What?"

"Shut up for a second and let me think."

You sigh.

German caught on to the eyes on him when he was at the shoe party. While anyone else would have packed up and fled to a non extradition country, he's staying here.

A sign.

Whoever it is that wanted to get him, should come see him face to face. No way in hell were you going to do that. Not only did you have the smarts to wait him out, you didn't want Mike and Marcus to put themselves on the line. They would no doubt follow you into the fire.

"I think I should make my peace with this before anyone gets hurt." you say.

There's silence on the other end of the line. With Mike not talking , you turn around to find Armando. He's standing there, two feet away from you on the hood of the stolen pick-up truck from the motel parking lot.

"That's big of you." Mike jokes.

"Very. But I mean if I see him about to get ran over, I'm not goin to save his ass." you quip.

Mike laughs, "He doesn't deserve it. Your forgiveness."

"I know," you say and Armando looks at you then. "I should probably return him to you, since he's on parole."

"Yeah well he did some things that might kick that back a few years." Mike answers.

You shake your head, "You can say it was all me. Make sure Dorn gets rid of any incriminating footage."

"I didn't tell him to go get you, you know that?"

You don't know why but hearing that makes your heart kind of thump weird. Not thump weird. Your heart is already thumping, but it feels different.

Different as you look him in the eyes.

The first time you interacted with him you hoped it would be the last. And now here he is sticking his neck out for you when you haven't been all that kind.

"I didn't know that. I'll get him back to you in one piece." you speak.

"Thanks. And keep me updated wherever you land."

"Will do. Thanks Mike."

You hang up the phone. Armando takes a step closer and you hold out the phone for him. When he does you feel the quickest static brush against your fingertips.

"You good from here?" he asks.

You nod your head, "I'm a big girl, first time for everything."

He nods once with a small smirk on his lips. He looks away, somewhere off behind your shoulder. It's not like you didn't notice he's good looking. But you just never thought about it for too long.

"Let me drop you off at the station." he says.

You don't want to smile. You shouldn't smile. "Okay."

Armando waits for you to start walking. Once your in front of him he walks over to the driver's side. You climb into the truck and shut the door.

You could've walked. The station is only ten minutes from here. You smile a bit to yourself when he puts the car in drive.

[0ceanic-cosm0s]

To the Hellfire - chapter 3

[Josh Washington x F! Reader]

5.6k words

masterlist - two - three - four

Chapter wrote by @sharkology & @xghostcr0wx

⚠️chapter warnings⚠️

[smut, non-con drugging, angst] MDNI

(smut warnings under the cut)

🔞smut warnings🔞

[switch! josh (mostly dom josh), reader says good boy like once, afab reader, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), josh is kinda gross (in a hot way), choking, oral fixation, squirting, cumming inside, teasing and taunting, manhandling]

You were right on his trail as he left, his footsteps heavy and loud with frustration and anger. Your timid steps followed behind. You both walked in silence (him mostly just stomping) until he reached the door to his room in the lodge. He stops for a second, looking at you with a glare. You’ve never seen him get so riled up.

“Enjoy the little show?” He mumbled, turning back to the door and opening it-quickly heading in and sitting on his bed with a loud sigh.

You felt a pang of hurt as he treated you a little harshly, but you understood his tone and why he was acting this way; the whole ouija board was a dumb decision in the first place. It was probably embarrassing to him that you had to see him like that. You enter slowly, shutting the door. You keep the main room light off and walk over to the lamp on his bedside table to turn on the dim light, before sitting next to him and giving him enough space for his comfort.

“Josh..I understand why you’re upset. But, you don’t need to act like this towards me. I’m here to help you. Not to get this cold behavior.” He looks over at you, his face contorted with anger and confusion. But it gradually fades as he lets your words sink in. He looks more like he’s just regretful and sad now at how he was being towards you.

He groans, looking away as he rubs his head anxiously. “I know I know, I’m..I’m sorry [Y/n], I just…I feel like I was getting messed with, ya know? Like..I know how much we love playing tricks on each other, but this feels a little overkill..”

You listen to his words, nodding along. “I don’t think they were messing with you, Josh. Especially knowing how sensitive the topic of your sisters is for you. And, to be frank, messing with ouija boards is not something to treat like a childrens board game. Those things are real, and have scary consequences. Nonetheless being on Native American grounds. This is why I was so against it, because I knew something like this would happen.” Josh just looks down to the ground, his expression looking like he has a lot on his mind. Like he was getting ready to say or do something. After what feels like an eternity, Josh speaks up.

“Yeah, you're right. It doesn't really matter anyway. I'm over it.” Josh deflects but you can clearly tell that it's quite the opposite.

“Josh, you don't have to pretend to be fine. I would be just as upset if I were in your shoes. If anything, I wouldn't be able to carry myself as well as you do.” You assure him and put a hand on his warm back. Josh's gaze is still on the ground and the room falls silent for a second. You can tell Josh is looking for the right words to say.

“Thank you, [Y/n]. I appreciate it, I really do.. No one's ever-” Josh’s mouth slightly hangs open as he tries to find his words. “I just don't want to think about it right now. I just don't want to think at all right now.” He admits, rubbing his temples with one hand. You watch, silently. Chewing your bottom lip anxiously as you two sit there in awkward silence.

You knew Josh was going through a lot right now, and you could only imagine what was going on inside his head. You knew you couldn't do much to ease his pain, but the most you could do was be there for him. Over the months you've known Josh, you've learned that his biggest working coping mechanism so far is distractions. There were times where he had a shitty day and called you up just to talk, play video games, and distract him from whatever terrible emotion he's feeling. And you're more than happy to do that.

You take a deep breath in and prepare yourself as you firmly take his hands into yours, putting them on each side of your waist, and embracing him into a gentle hug.

“[Y/n]?..” Josh whispers at the side of your head. He was taken aback a bit, but definitely wasn’t opposed to this affectionate action.

“Just, let me do this for you.” You murmur, tightening your grip around his back. “Let me be here for you..” You rest your chin in the crook of his neck, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils. He sighs, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Thank you.” He whispers. He rests his head against yours, quietly inhaling your scent and hair. His large and rough hands gripping your soft flesh against your clothes. The clothes that he couldn’t help but want to rip off of you the moment his hands were on your waist. The hug lasted longer than just a friendly one, and you knew he noticed that too. There was no questioning it; you both wanted each other in one way or another. The tension filled balloon that's lasted over the 8 months since you met is about to pop.

As the hug continued, Josh tested the waters by lightly rubbing his hands up and down your sides, his grip getting a bit more confident. You began feeling some type of way, getting more bold with the newfound wave of arousal, sexual tension, and energy. Your fingers delicately and playfully travel down from his back, to his chest, and down his semi-toned body in a painfully slow way, making sure to tease him with every soft stroke. You take a gamble by hooking your fingers underneath his pants and boxers, but only on the hem which drove him absolutely mad.

Your thumbs caress his v-line, enhancing the sexual atmosphere. Josh was loving every bit of this, and he started to nuzzle into your neck-leaving light kisses against your warm and soft skin; eventually turning into rough ones with a few bites here and there as your hands began to unbutton his pants while your lips placed hungry kisses against his shoulder.

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll give you something else to think about..” Josh leans away to look you in the eyes, a smirk on his lips as he raises a brow at you.

“Yeah? What did you have in mind, Marbles?” He asked in a lighthearted tone. You smile, a seductive glint in your [e/c] eyes. You firmly push him back against his bed, and start sensually stripping off your sweater and leggings in front of him, leaving you in your skirt and undershirt. After placing yourself in between his thighs, he bit his lip and looked at you with adoration and excitement, ready for whatever you were about to do to him.

“Let’s just say, something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time.” You reply back, giving him a not so innocent smile.

Josh bit his lip in anticipation from your words as he looked you up and down. “Oh? Well, I’m all yours to handle~” And with that, you begin to undo his pants further, pulling up his shirt and leaning over to his stomach as you plant kisses of appreciation all over his skin-pulling down his pants in the process. Josh sighs, and his eyelids lower. His heart rate picks up as he watches you, your beautiful figure treating him like his body was the most precious and delicate thing in the world.

Once his pants were low enough, you rise a bit and look down at his bulging boxers. He looked absolutely delicious, in this view, just for you. You look up at his lust filled eyes and bring your face closer to his-a soft gasp escaping his lips as you slowly bring his boxers down next. The intense eye contact had his head spinning and he needed to do something with these overwhelming emotions.

He grabbed a fist full of your hair, not too rough though, and crashed his lips onto yours in a heated kiss. You both hungrily consume each other while you take his pulsating and thick cock into your hand and begin to stroke him. Thankfully it was already soaked in precum, making it easier to rub him up and down at the speed you were going.

Through the kiss, you could feel his whole body stutter and tense with pleasure as you continued to stroke him. His hips slightly raised off the bed, chasing for more. You could tell Josh was slowly losing his composure as he started to let out small broken moans, while trying his absolute best to continue the kiss.

“Ngh~ Fuck..” Josh whimpers out as he turns his head away from your intense and lustful gaze, maybe in embarrassment? You didn't expect him to start whimpering and falling apart this early, not that you're complaining, you actually want to keep pulling these delicious sounds from him.

Josh’s neck is exposed to you, so you take the liberty to start kissing it and leave small marks. You slowed the pace of your hand down to a more sensual one while making sure to never stop sucking on his neck. Josh’s senses were going into overdrive and he definitely felt like he was going to cum soon, but he didn't want it to end. This caused his thighs to tense under you from the stimulation, and he put his hand on your wrist that's stroking his length to anchor himself. Which you found to be one of the hottest things ever.

Josh puts the back of his other hand on his mouth, clearly trying to muffle the beautiful sounds he's giving you.

“Don't be shy, I want to hear you~” You say in a sultry tone while grabbing his hand from his mouth and bringing it to your clothed breast. Instinctively, Josh whips his head at you; those beautiful green sex glazed eyes fixated on you. His hand started to massage your breast under your grip, using his thumb to stroke against your nipple from under your bra that was growing harder from the stimulation.

Your eyes start to flutter and you lean into his ear, “Thaaat’s it, there’s a good boy. You’re doing so well for me.” You whisper. The praise lit something inside him and he needed more of you. As you’re continuing to stroke him, Josh removes his hands from you and to your shirt-damn near ripping it off and tosses it aside. His fingers go straight to your ribs and grips you for dear life. His half-lidded eyes soak up every inch of you with lust and adoration.

“Wow..” He whispers breathlessly in between moans. “..You’re so fucking beautiful [Y/n].” His hands dart to the back of your bra and unhooks it, letting your tits out into his view. He was basically drooling from the sight, immediately taking action. He leans up and captured one of your nipples into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it like it was the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted, while using his hands to hold you in place and to pleasure your other nipple with his fingers; pinching and circling with his thumb at an unbelievably delectable pace that had you heating up to the core.

“Fuck, Josh..” You whimper out, unable to control your voice. Your hand strokes his dick sporadically, unable to contain your focus. This pushes Josh to go further as he moves a free hand under your skirt, and starts stroking your already damp underwear. Josh hums at the feeling, circling a finger on your clit-causing you to suck in a sharp breath of air and buck into his hand. “Oh, someone seems to be desperate for more, huh?” He mumbles against your breast. You roll your eyes, “You’re one to talk. You’re practically using my hand to fuck yourself.” You make an emphasis as you squeeze his cock that was frantically rubbing against your hand.

He hums, in a somewhat defeated tone. “I guess I’ll take a loss on this one then, hm?” He guided your hand away from his cock, clearly wanting to let you have all the attention right now. You didn't know what he had in store for you, but you were excited for it.

His index and middle fingers rub circles over your clothed hole, before pushing past the boundaries of your underwear, in between your coated folds, and slowly sink them into your wet pussy-earning a harsh groan from you as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. “A-ah fuck~” is all your able to manage out from the feeling of his thick fingers.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t take my revenge~” He coo’s into your neck, kissing and biting your skin. He works his fingers into you with such precision, you'd be surprised if he didn't have any experience beforehand. You grind yourself down onto his hand, chasing for more. You could feel your body grow in temperature from the body heat and pleasure. You look down at the sight below you, and what a sight it is; Josh's lidded green eyes intensely gazing up at you, his bottom lip slightly pulled between his teeth. His face clearly searches for any slight reactions you make, almost calculating. You feel your body flush even more just from the way he's looking at you, the intense eye contact making everything feel more passionate. You feel him working you up, getting you close to your peak, but your body feels a small wave of disappointment and confusion once Josh's fingers leave from inside you.

Josh sits up and puts a firm hand on your waist, using it to turn you over on your back so that he's towering over you. The position instantly made you feel submissive, and Josh's eyes never left yours.

“You look so damn hot underneath me.” Josh declares and all you can do is let out a bashful whine. Josh smirks at your reaction and roughly puts his hand on your jaw, the switch up only turning you on even more as you can feel more slick build up in between your legs. You instinctively put your hand on his wrist that's holding your jaw.

“Where's all that confidence now?” He smugly asks, feeling as if he won with your silence. Josh uses his hand on your jaw to use his index and middle finger to prod at your lips, parting them. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue causing small strings of saliva to spill out of your mouth. You can taste yourself on the same fingers that were once inside you, only adding to the erotic sensations you're feeling in this moment. And all you can do is look him in his eyes that continue to stare you down with dominance. You didn't expect Josh to have this kinky side, not that you're complaining, it's actually quite the opposite. You're soaking it all up, letting him do as he wishes with you.

Josh moves his fingers out of your mouth and replaces it with his tongue, reaching down to catch you in an almost-rough, passionate kiss. Your hands instantly gravitate towards his hair, gripping at the dark brown tufts to pull him impossibly closer than he already was which earns you a groan from Josh.

His wet fingers trace down your body, passing your nipples and giving it a light pinch, causing you to slightly arch your back, pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and let out a small squeal. You feel him lightly chuckle into this kiss from your reaction, and he continues to rake his saliva coated fingers down your body, only slightly touching you, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers make their way down to your mound, teasing you and caressing you there, making you wiggle around in anticipation. The kisses move from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. Josh makes sure to take his time there, sucking more dark marks onto your warm skin. His fingers prod at your entrance, collecting just enough slick to ghost his fingers over your clit.

“J-Josh..” You say in a strangled voice, his teasing making it hard to find your words. Your hips involuntarily stutter into his fingers.

“Yes~?” He replies in a low, sultry teasing tone, urging you to say more. You could feel the bass of his voice vibrate against your neck and it only enhanced all the senses you were feeling. Josh slightly lifts his head from your neck to make eye contact with you. With his eyes dark, lidded, and his hair tousled only enhanced his looks in this moment.

“P-please..” You can feel yourself become bashful under his stare and you find it hard to keep eye contact. It's still hard for you to believe that you're even in this position with Josh right now. All the nights you lay in bed alone imagining what it would feel like to be this close to you in such a state is finally coming to fruition.

Fingers trace their way up your torso, circling around your breast, and tracing back down.

“C’mon. You're a big girl, use your words~” Josh teases. You swallow thickly, your fingers raking up into his brown locks. The smooth strands of his hair being gripped by your hands roughly as you gain your focus to speak.

“Please, I need you to fuck me. I’ve been needing this for so long..” You whisper breathlessly. Josh’s lips part a bit, and something changed in his eyes. They seemed, hungry. Frantic. Desperate, even. It sent chills through your veins and you found it enticing.

“Well look at that, she CAN speak. Such a good girl~ Your wish is mine to grant..” Josh licks his lips as he makes his hands to your breasts, fingering your nipples sensually. Your back arches, and you can feel your pussy throbbing more for friction. You let out a soft moan, which Josh laps up when he places a rough and hard kiss to your lips. His hands find their way to your waist and up to grip your ribs. His fingers rub against your bones, inciting a welcomed tinge of pain. He breaks the kiss slowly as he leans up and looks at you with a pure sex filled gaze,

“I’m gonna need you to prepare yourself, ok? You think you can handle that?” He whispers.

You give him a confused look. “Why?”

He smirks, and places his dick at your dripping wet entrance-your body instinctively jerks on his tip. “Because I’m gonna rearrange your guts.”

Before you can react, he firmly plunges himself inside you. The amazing stretch of his length inside you makes you whine out, and he quickly covers your mouth. “Shh, don’t want everyone to hear us now do we?” He mutters into your ear. You shake your head and whimper as he picks up the pace. Your juices coat his dick which makes it easier to adjust around him. The pressure and harshness was so new to you, you didn’t know how to cope. Your legs wrapped around his waist and hands gripped his hair more. His pace was fast but also steady-your body was writhing underneath him. Loud moans and gasps were muffled by his hand that was trying to escape. His own breathing was labored but controlled, and his eyes were shut tightly. You could tell he was enjoying this to the fullest.

He pushed two of his thick fingers into your mouth, and your tongue happily licked them up and down. You guys made eye contact as you did so and you could feel his dick twitch inside you from it. “You have, NO idea how long I’ve wanted this [Y/n]. I fucking missed you so much. I’ve dreamed about this for so long, God you feel incredible.” Josh breathlessly claims, taking his fingers out.

You drink up his praises like a dehydrated pup, and your heart starts to beat faster than it ever had. “I missed you too Josh, I’ve wanted this for so long as well. I’ve wanted to be with you like this since I left the mental ward. Jesus, all I’ve thought about was you.” Josh’s eyes flicker for a moment. Like a deep thought crossed his mind. His expression dropped slightly, but just as quick as it came it was gone. You were gonna ask about it until he pressed his lips on yours and continued to pound into you and it erased any thought you had.

His fingers dig into your flesh, his nails were definitely gonna leave marks. But you didn’t care. All you could think about was his dick absolutely demolishing you. The sounds of your guys’ combined moans and his cock fucking your wet cunt was all you could focus on. Josh brings a hand down from your waist to your clit. His finger pads work on it in rough yet gentle circles, coaxing out intense shocks of pleasurable waves through your body. Your hips thrust into his to match his pace as you chase your high. “C’mon baby, you got this. Let yourself unravel. I want to feel you cum on my dick~” Josh coos against your lips. You whine out a moan as you nod, putting your attention on your upcoming orgasm.

The way his cock was rubbing up into your walls, the way his hips were slapping into yours, his groans echoing into your ears; it was all you could’ve asked for and more. You were going crazy. Your hands went to his back, your fingers digging into his toned body. Your nails leave harsh mark lines to show your..Intense actions with each other, you could say. But you didn’t care. And Josh was certainly loving it. The pain and pleasure mixed into one was making the euphoric atmosphere between you two, far more enjoyable than you guys would have imagined.

You were almost there, you were almost reaching your peak; everything was building up and up. Josh clasps his free hand around your neck, lightly and effectively choking you while never halting the movement of his fingers on your clit and the pounding of his cock. All you're able to do is arch your back and moan in delight as you instinctively reach to hold onto Josh's hand and wrist that's gripping your neck. Josh's thrusts start pistoning into you with such force and roughness that it deliciously rubbed against your inner walls in all the right spots, his fingers on your clit moving at a rapid pace, and his grip tightening ever so slightly on your neck, you were on cloud nine. You feel the pressure in your lower regions build higher and higher, almost as if it was about to pop. You were so close.

Josh leans in close, his warm panting breath tickling your ear. You're not sure what he's doing and everything is happening too quickly before you can find out. You feel something wet and warm sensually slide from your jaw to your cheekbone, the peculiar feeling sent shivers down your spine. That's when you realize Josh just licked the side of your face, taking you completely off guard in such a pleasurable way. You didn't know Josh could turn you on and heighten this moment more than he already has-

“You’ve earned it. Now fucking cum.” He commands in a stern, dominant tone. This is all it takes to push you over the edge, the pressure finally popping. Your vision fades slightly and you feel your eyes roll. All the muscles in your body tensed and tightened, your back arching. Your mouth opens, probably ready to let out an incredibly loud moan but you can't tell anymore. Josh continues to ride you through your orgasm, never stopping his pace and movements on your clit.

All you feel is wet; so, so wet. Your thighs, the sheets under you-Josh‘s hips that were slamming into you; everything felt drenched. You don't find out why until your vision fades back to normal, leaving you to look down where you and Josh were connected. Everything was completely soaked in your cum. You can feel your face burn red as Josh stares at you surprised, his hips stuttering. “Fuck, baby- did you just…?” You had squirted for him, because of him, and it was the sexiest thing he's ever seen in his life.

You weren't expecting this to happen, so you do all you can think of, and just nod. This only causes Josh to speed his thrusts, chasing his orgasm and in turn overstimulating you. “Shit- you're so fucking dirty, baby.” He accentuates each world with a deep thrust. Watching you squirt for him was all he needed to push himself over the edge, his head rolling back, his grip on your neck tightening and untightening. Josh lets out the most beautiful sounds you've ever heard a man make when his seed spills into you, filling you up. (Thank God you were on birth control though, because if not this moment probably wouldn’t have felt like it did). Heavy breaths and broken moans leave both of your guys mouths as Josh slows his pace to a halt, releasing his grasp from your neck and using his hands to hold his weight above you, head dipped catching his breath.

This was the most beautiful and erotic experience to ever happen to you-and Josh as well. You were so overstimulated your body and nerves were literally vibrating inside your skin. You soak up Josh’s form utop; his messy brown locks pulled in all sorts of directions that made him look so sexy, the sweat accumulating on his beautiful olive skin, it was all so intoxicating to see. You look down and huff a small whimper of disappointment when he slowly pulls out of your dripping cunt. He lets out a deep groan when he looks at you, all disheveled and covered in each other's cum. What a gorgeous sight to behold.

“Wow, Marbles..” Josh mumbles as he soothingly rubs your thighs to relieve some tension from your muscles. “..Never thought I’d have a girl squirt for me. What an honor~” You scoff at his teasing comments and use a hand to lazily swat at him.

“Oh shut up. You liked it anyway.” You remark. He catches your hand and raises a brow. “Liked it?” He repeated. He uses your hand to travel down to your coated pussy and sticks your two fingers inside you-your body twitching a bit from the contact, and pulls your fingers out and into his mouth.

Your cheeks flush incredibly red at the sight; his eyes close and he moans against your hand as his brows furrowed in pleasure. You can feel his tongue slowly lick up the fluids from your fingers, and GODS was it hot. He pulls your fingers from his mouth and opens his eyes and leans in for a rough kiss. He sticks his tongue into your mouth and forcefully flushes some of the mixed cum into your mouth-earning a surprised muffled gasp from you. But you don’t reject it. Instead you allow it and embrace the taste.

It was bitter, sweet, and salty all at the same time. You never thought you’d enjoy this kind of taste before, until now. Because it was with Josh. He leans back a bit, smiling that oh so adorable smirk he always had on, “I don’t like it, [Y/n]. I fucking love it.”

You smile weakly, the exhaustion catching up to you. “Is that so? Well I guess we should do this more often then, huh?”

Josh’s eyes sparkle at your words, and nods enthusiastically. “Yes PLEASE! I would love a second round of the bone zone with you.” You both laugh at his eager tone and playful words-taking this moment to just relax and be happy with one another.

“Okay you're done.” You smile and mock roll your eyes at him. Josh just stares at you with that stupid-adorable grin and you playfully shove your hand in his face, shielding his eyes from you. Josh just prys your hand away from his face and pins it down beside your head. “Come on don't be like that, you know you love me~” He deeply whispers close to your face and leans in for a sweet kiss, your lips moving against each other's for a few seconds. You stare into eachothers eyes in silence for a little, Josh looking at you with adoration and much more. If only this moment could last forever.

“Alright I gotta go pee.” You break the silence, your bladder crying out to you causing Josh to roll off of you, letting you sit up. “Well, can I watch?” He asks which you take so unseriously and roll your eyes. You start to dress yourself, getting ready to put your panties on your sticky body before Josh stops you, handing you a towel and you thank him.

“Is there anything you need or want me to get while you're in the bathroom?” Josh asks genuinely, and you find it sweet.

“Uhmm… just a cup of water would be good,” you give him a warm smile while wiping yourself off and changing into your clothes.

“Alright I got ya. The bathroom is the door right across from mine.” Josh informs you, continuing to pull on his boxers and leaving you to take your time to ogle his half naked body. It was still hard for you to believe that you were able to get so close to Josh, see each other again, and then be intimate with each other. You weren't here for a quick fuck and then leave, you wanted to stay for the endgame, to go out on cute dates together, to spend nights in eachother’s rooms watching stupidly bad horror movies, playing video games, and waking up next to eachother. You just hoped Josh felt the same way, but you think you're confident he likes you.

After changing back into you clothes, minus your sweater, you leave Josh's room. The colder air of the hallway in the lodge wafting in your face. As you open the bathroom door, you could feel the transition from expensive hardwood floor to expensive tiles underneath your feet.

After finishing with the toilet and washing your hands, you take some time to look at yourself in the mirror. It's still so hard for you to wrap your head around what just happened, you feel like a giddy school girl. Months and months of crushing finally lead to something and you can't help but want Josh to be your boyfriend.

Josh was waiting for you back in his room, ready with a cold glass of water for you. You open the door to him sitting on his bed, unfortunately now fully clothed, messing around with something on his phone. Josh's eyes reach yours and he gives you a small smile grabbing the water for you off of his nightstand. You take a seat next to him on the bed, taking the water from his hand, thanking him.

As you raise the glass to your lips, you can feel Josh’s gaze on you, staring, taking glances between his phone and you. As you take a few big gulps, a small voice in the back of your head wonders why Josh is watching so observantly while you drink water. The water's cold, refreshing and you finish about half before you're satiated, reaching over him to set it back on the nightstand.

You and Josh continue to talk with each other for a little bit. During the whole conversation Josh would periodically glance at his phone, checking the time, but you weren't sure why. Only 15 minutes into your conversation you start feeling off. You can't explain the feeling. It's as if your body is slowing down. You've reduced your responses down to nodding along with lidded eyes.

“Josh… I’m- m’not feeling good…” You manage out that one sentence, hopefully it's enough for Josh to understand.

“Hey.. just lay down a bit, yeah?..” You feel a warm hand on your back and another on your shoulder guiding you to lay down the bed.

It doesn't feel right anymore, this doesn't feel right. You don't feel good but it's not like you're sick. It feels like your body's slowly shutting off. You can’t really make out what's going on around you. It's like everything is in slow motion. You try to open your mouth, but it suddenly feels dry and your ability to speak goes away. You try to raise a limp arm off the bed, but it doesn't go far; you no longer have control over your own body.

You see Josh's face looking down at you, calculating and watching your every move. You were drugged. You're sure of it. From what, the water? Nothing tasted off, right? Why though? Why would he do this? Why would this happen? Everything was going fine, right? Right..? The only thing you could think about was betrayal and fear you felt in this moment. What was going to happen to you?

The last thing you see is Josh standing above you, peering down at you with a torn look on his face, making no move to help. Many emotions washed over you; hurt, betrayal, and confusion. But you're not able to process them before you let go of consciousness, the world around you fading. And then..It went dark.

[a/n]: here's the long awaited chapter! Sorry for taking so long we got way busier than expected. One of us ended up moving to the next town over so it took a while to get free time to write. All the other chapters should be coming out a lot faster now!

Taglist: @puppygirlella @sigma-alpha-writer-chad

[lilveeblog]

I've got you, bug

JJ has been struggling with her eating and looking after herself, Emily steps in to help. TW: eating disorder mention, vomiting mentioned briefly

JJ pushed open the bathroom door with such force that the handle hit the adjacent wall. She flew into a cubicle and dropped down by the toilet, ready to throw up the contents of her stomach. She was sick and collapsed by the side of the porcelain bowl. The floor was cold under her head. She whimpered and pulled her knees to her chest. Everything had been too much today, for her big brain. She could feel herself slipping into that younger age, the one tormented by nasty eating habits and weight-watching and she hated it. She tried to fight it. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to fight off the dissociation and regression but then she heard the soft voice and her attempts were futile. 

Emily followed in pursuit of JJ. With JJ’s sudden absence from the round table room, concern had flooded Emily.  She pushed open the bathroom door gently and cringed as she heard the poor girl throw up into the toilet bowl. She turned the corner just as JJ collapsed to the floor. Emily watched her pull her knees to her chest and could hear the mental anguish in JJ’s brain, fighting whatever demons were in there.

“JJ,” she whispered, bending down to the bathroom floor. She knelt by JJ’s feet and put a comforting hand on the blonde’s calf. JJ looked over silently. “Hey,” Emily said. Her voice was gentle and understanding to JJ, even though she only said something simple. It was like being swaddled in blankets and placed into the arms of someone who truly cared. JJ wanted that. “What’s going on?” Emily asked. JJ sighed and shuffled so she could sit up. As much as she wanted to be swaddled and loved and cared for, she had to be professional. She had to be a big girl. “Was just sick,” She muttered, sitting up. She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear and put her head back on the amber-coloured cubicle door. “You got a bug? Eaten something funny?” Emily asked. JJ sighed and nodded then shrugged. “Not sure,” she simply replied. Emily looked at her, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips. Emily knew it wasn’t the first time JJ had been sick at work, she also knew it wasn’t because she’d eaten something dodgy. “Jayje,” Emily said. She put her hand on JJ’s arm and smiled at her sympathetically. “Talk to me.” “There’s nothing to talk about,” JJ said and stumbled to her feet, brushing off Emily’s touch. She was getting too close, asking too many questions now. JJ had to avoid it at all costs. She couldn’t talk about her feelings and she couldn’t act on her feelings either. If it were up to her, she’d be heading home, swaddling herself up in a blanket with her paci, tangled and her stuffies ready for a quiet night in. “JJ, you’re not alone,” Emily said softly. “You won’t understand,” JJ said back. “I might if you talk to me. What is it?” “I don’t want to talk to you, Em. I don’t want to talk to anyone.” JJ huffed and pulled her sleeves over her hands before exiting the bathroom but Emily knew that telltale sign she wanted to be little from anywhere. The team all knew about JJ’s regression, it had happened a few times around them but no one pushed her to slip and she didn’t have a sole caregiver. Often, Hotch stepped in to take her home and get her settled. Emily often wished it was her though. She wished she was able to take care of JJ in that way, she longed to be her caregiver, longed to have her own sweet little JJ to care for all the time. Emily knew, if JJ was in her care, then she’d be safe and healthy. But she never knew how to approach the subject. 

Emily grabbed her wrist just before JJ could leave and pulled her back closer to her. Before JJ had the chance to struggle, Emily had wrapped her in a tight hug, one which she couldn't escape. “I know what you want,” Emily whispered to the younger girl in her arms. JJ only whimpered. “I know that you need to regress and that’s okay. Let me help you, sweetheart,” Emily said. JJ whimpered again and shook her head but Emily rested her hand on the back of JJ’s head, cradling it and stroking her hair. “It’s okay and it’s safe.” “Not here,” JJ whispered. “At home.” “Let me take you home. We’ll tell Hotch you’re sick, he’ll understand.” “Don’t wanna be a bother,” JJ mumbled but turned her head, cuddling further into Emily. “You’re never, ever a bother to me, Jay. I want to help,” Emily explained. JJ sighed and wrapped her arms around Emily tightly. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to. The hug was enough of a thank you. Emily squeezed JJ and they stayed silent for a good few minutes. 

The pair drove home in silence. Hotch understood JJ was sick and feeling small and since there was no case, happily sent Emily home with her. JJ was nervous, her house was a mess. JJ knew Emily was a bit of a clean freak but JJ thrived in organised chaos and her house was just that. Chaos. She found it difficult to look after herself with how much had been happening recently, particularly in her head. 

They got home and Emily helped JJ out of the car, JJ was feeling smaller by the minute. Emily held her hand as they headed up to the house and JJ fumbled with her house key. “Erm,” she spoke up before opening the door. “What is it, bug?” “It’s messy.” “That’s okay. We all get messy sometimes,” Emily reassured. JJ sighed and nodded before opening the door but Emily wasn’t prepared for how messy it was. It was clear the mess belonged to big and little JJ. The front living room looked much like a child’s playroom, with the sofa, turned upside down, blankets sprawled over the floor, toys all around, and the TV was still playing reruns of cartoons. JJ’s cheeks were burning up as Emily observed the room. “I’m sorry, I should clean it,” she said. She picked up a piece of clothing and threw it over her shoulder, then another and another before Emily stopped it. She put a comforting hand on JJ’s arm and JJ paused. “Hey, no. You’re all good. Let’s leave this for now - what about we sit in the kitchen?” Emily said. She took the clothes off JJ’s shoulder and placed them on the arm of the sofa before taking the smaller girl’s hand and leading her into the other room. But it was just as messy, if not worse. A rotten food smell had built up along with plates and bowls, cutlery and cups by the sink. JJ lowered her eyes and shuffled her feet, her hand still loosely in Emiy’s. “It’s not a big deal, Jay,” Emily said, reassuringly. She turned and lifted the chin of the little one so JJ was looking at her. Tears had pooled in her blue eyes. “No need to get upset.” “Embarrassed,” JJ said, moving her gaze to the mess. “There is no need for that either, I understand little ones like you struggle to look after yourself and hey – it gives us an excuse to door dash.” JJ went redder at the words used by her colleague. She wanted to shake her head and disagree and say she was perfectly capable of looking after herself but the state of her home right now, and her head made that seem very false. She had no leg to stand on. Instead of arguing, she put her head on Emily’s shoulder and tried not to sob. Emily wrapped her arms around her and rubbed her back. “How about we have a nap, hm?” Emily suggested. JJ nodded, she wanted to sleep and forget about all of this. 

The older of the pair took JJ’s hand and walked through the house and up to JJ’s bedroom, remembering where it was from the wine night the girls had a few months prior. Emily sighed thinking about how downhill JJ’s mental health has been since. They walked into JJ’s room and JJ beelined for the bed. It was unmade and full of teddies and blankets too but Emily thought it was quite sweet. JJ sat in the middle of it and waited for Emily to help her, growing smaller and smaller in her head. 

“Where are your pjs, bug?” Emily asked. JJ shrugged and pointed to the floor which was scattered with clothes. Emily laughed and picked up a pair of pink shorts and a long-sleeved t-shirt which looked like it matched. “Are these clean?” Emily asked. JJ shrugged again and Emily laughed. “They’ll do. Come here,” She tapped in front of her on the bed and J shuffled over and raised her arms, letting Emily change her. Emily smiled at the trust shared and changed her girl into comfier clothes. As soon as she could, JJ slid under her blue blanket and curled into a ball, looking up at Emily with her soft eyes. “Okay, are you going to get some sleep?” Emily pulled the larger comforter up and over JJ so she’d be warmer, grabbed a teddy from the side of the bed, and handed it to the little one. JJ nodded and sighed, taking the teddy. She closed her eyes and slid her thumb into her mouth. “Good girl, I’ll be downstairs if you need anything just shout, okay, bug?” JJ nodded, already half asleep. 

Emily headed down the stairs and looked at the state of the kitchen. She quickly got to work on throwing out rubbish, filling up the sink to wash the pots, and organising JJ’s clothes to put through the washer. She could tell from the old dishes that she hadn’t eaten in at least a few days and that worried her more. It was clear JJ was struggling to take care of herself in every capacity. She knew she needed to help. 

An hour and a half later, everything was tidy and in tip-top shape. Just as she went to wake up her girl, who was hopefully still regressed and in a good mood, she heard the bedroom door open and saw JJ begin down the stairs - in her adult clothes. “Emily?” she called out, wondering if she was still in her house. “Hey, JJ,” Emily replied when she got to the bottom. JJ paused and looked around the room, Emily had tidied up her things - for her. A wave of guilt washed over her. Emily noticed the change of expression and reached out a hand to support her. “Hey, it’s okay.” “You didn’t need to do this,” JJ said. She walked into the kitchen and found that also polished to perfection. “I wanted to, JJ. To help you. Can we talk?” “There’s nothing to talk about.” “There is. JJ, honey, you need help.” “I don’t. I’m a perfectly capable adult,” JJ huffed, almost like she was trying to convince herself of the fact too. “JJ, your house was a mess. When was the last time you ate? Or showered? I’m not trying to condescend you or invalidate you whatsoever. I just see a friend who's struggling, and I’d like to help.” Emily put her hand on JJ’s shoulder, stopping her from walking away again. JJ sighed. She turned to face Emily. “I don’t want to bother you, upset you or be a nuisance.” “You’re none of them things, honey. Never, ever, not to me. I want to help you, I’m offering.” “But what if I’m too much?” “Then we can discuss it. But for now, let me in, let me help little Jay and you.” JJ stayed silent, thinking it over, before sighing and letting her shoulders drop. “Okay. Okay but, Emily, you have to tell me if I’m too much, or not enough - or if I’m not good enough for you.” “JJ, I will. But you need to let me in completely. You’re always good enough for me, always. Come here,” she said. She opened her arms for her friend, and JJ moved into them, accepting the comforting embrace. “I’ve got you,” Emily muttered as JJ let out another sigh. “It’s going to be okay, bug.” 

[pomegranatecrab]

Rhodey/Tony/Steve, anyone?

Steve buys an apartment with his back pay.

It’s small, but it has two bedrooms. He converts one into a studio, and he should be comforted by the peeling paint and faded colour, covered in thousands of little fallacies, so very akin to the room he shared with his mother, where he would count each mark and stain while he was in bed, struggling to breath. Instead, the memories that the walls incite are sour.

There’s nothing stopping him from moving the minimal furniture out into the hallway, and sanding back the walls by hand. The man at the store had suggested an electric one, a round device that he had politely turned down. When he strips down the walls, Steve is still at a loss. No colour feels right for the room. There’s two windows where Steve is considering putting a house plant between, yet, no inspiration strikes. A spattering of dust floats in the air, a thick smell permeating the room. Steve opens a window, and frowns when someone knocks on the door.

He’s never met the man on the other side before. Tall, dark skin and carrying himself strongly. A wry smile paints his lips.

“Steve Rogers?” He offers a hand, the other hooked in the tag of a six pack of beers. “I’m James Rhodes. Tony’s talked a lot about you.”

Steve blinks.

“Tony Stark?”

James nods, peering shamelessly past Steve and into the living room. “Still moving in?”

Steve steps aside, nodding stiffly. The beers are from a brand he doesn’t recognise, and James is dressed casually, but his rigid posture gives him away.

“Army?”

“Airforce,” James says, peeling off his shoes and leaving them neatly by the door. “No work talk, I’m off duty.” He eyes the lack of TV critically.

“Do you have any board games?”

Steve would have felt like a killjoy, if not for the gleam in James’ eye, casual and easy-going. Like a wave could crash in and he’d simply ride it to shore.

“I have a pair of dice,” Steve says.

It’s one of the only things, along with his shield, that they let him take from his own belongings. A nice wooden pair that Bucky had carved for him, right down to the uneven dots adorning each side.

“Perfect,” James says.

He steps into the connecting kitchen, running an admiring hand over the arched doorway, a coil of rich timber that reminds Steve of the sprawling houses that he’d seen in movies at the theatre.

“Have you considered removing this cupboard? It’d make good space for a breakfast nook.” He peers around the back of it, considering. “Built in, but it wouldn’t take too much rewiring. Tony and I can help you out.”

“I’ll think about it,” Steve replies, eyeing the unit critically. It would be nice to have the place feel less crowded, unique, even. It’s probably the last thing he needs, but a construction project might keep his mind occupied, at least. There were only so many times that he could think about drawing instead of picking up a pencil, and only so many laps he could take around the park.

James nods, and swipes a cup from the dish rack, rinsing it once beneath the tap before placing it in the middle of the counter. Steve watches as he takes a beer, expertly popping it open with a spoon.

“How’d you do that?”

“My sister taught me,” James says, sliding a beer over to Steve, “it’s simple physics. You just hold your hand slightly over the cap, and voilà.”

Steve tips his head, impressed.

“Now, you roll the dice,” James demonstrates, “and whatever number I get, in this case six, I have to get this cap in the glass six times in a row. If I don’t, I drink. If I do, you drink.”

“You know I can’t get drunk, right?” Steve asks.

He’s also certain he won’t miss, no matter how high he rolls.

“Yeah, but it’s friday and I can,” James replies, almost cheekily, though his face is deceptively grave.

“You can laugh,” James says after a beat, composure finally cracking.

“At funny things,” Steve retorts, relaxing, the tension held in his shoulders eased by the friendliness, the firm hold of comradely, on offer to him.

“Call me Jim, or Rhodey.”

They spend a good couple of hours playing, until Steve swallows the last of his beer, and Rhodey checks his watch.

Steve’s heart sinks. His day no longer felt droll and empty with Rhodey’s visit. It had been nice, at least, while it lasted.

“What’s your phone number?” Rhodey asks, pulling out a sleek little rectangle with a smooth surface. It alights at his touch, and Steve spots a vaguely familiar face, belatedly realising that it was Tony Stark, beaming up at the ceiling.

“I don’t have a phone.”

He had been given one when he woke up, but left it on a park bench when it hadn’t stopped incessantly ringing.

And he had no idea what a data plan was, or why he was supposed to get one.

Rhodey smiles.

“I’m sure Tony will help you out there. Here’s my address. You should stop by on Sunday. We’re having a barbecue.”

He’s out the door with another kind smile and firm handshake, leaving the faint smell of expensive cologne behind him.

—-

By the time Sunday rolls around, he still hasn’t decided on a colour for his studio, or if he really does want a breakfast nook in his kitchen.

What he has decided, after a great deal of going back and forth with himself, is that he will attend the barbecue that Rhodey invited him to. Steve refuses to think about Bucky, or his mother; dead for decades while he experiences the future. He doesn’t think of quiet dinners with his mother, or sitting in dense forests with Bucky, his small fingers expertly carving the skin from a rabbit, roasting it over the fire, a fond suspire caught in Steve’s throat as Bucky complained about boredom, wishing for Nazi’s to gut or superior officers to prank. Mostly, he remembers the smell of bodies. The nauseating amount of blood had been like drowning in a sea of pennies, a thick, overwhelming metallic smell, a horrible collision with urine and excrement.

He thinks of Bucky, who didn’t even make it to sixteen.

He pulls on his shoes, and thinks of how he had to warn Bucky about keeping his feet as dry as possible in his boots, to never assume that it was mud, or something wet in his socks. He had heard too many stories from the first war about flesh peeling off, rotting and grotesque.

Steve ignores the military uniform hanging neatly in his closet and opts for jeans and a white t-shirt, pulls the punnet of strawberries from the fridge that he was sure were going to be laughed at, before beginning the long walk to Rhodey’s residence.

Rhodey lives in an incredibly beautiful two-story house, with a sprawling property that Steve figured would cost more than he would ever see in his lifetime. There’s a small porch at the front, adorned with plants hanging from the ceiling, a mat at the door and a small, ornate table with a package of bird feed on it.

He knocks on the door, and is surprised when it’s opened almost instantly.

Rhodey grins at him, wiping his hands on a yellow apron.

“Steve! Glad you could make it. Are those for the barbecue? Perfect, they’ll go perfectly with the charcuterie board.”

Relieved, Steve hands off the strawberries, peeling off his shoes and placing them in the neat little shelf by the door, already filled with a variety of joggers, leather shoes and a strange pair with holes throughout them.

The air smells like steak, sausages and something spicy.

Rhodey leads him briskly through a wide hallway with gleaming wooden floors into a large kitchen, where Tony Stark stands, arms akimbo.

“I thought flambéing would be easier than it looked,” Tony says, with a winning smile.

It’s not the wet, dormant smile of a greedy businessman; his blue eyes are warm, and he’s rolled his sleeves to his elbows, a faint flush working his way up to his neck. He looks very normal.

“Just do us all a favour and stick to chopping, a severed finger would be better than cleaning the gunk in that pan,” Rhodey replies.

Tony shrugs, and turns to face Steve properly.

“Hi, Steve. Nice to properly meet you,” Tony says, offering a hand.

His palm is calloused and warm, with long, bony fingers that his mother would say are perfect for the piano.

“I hear you’re in the midst of a construction project.” Tony opens the punnet of strawberries, and opens a cupboard beneath the bench, pulling out a beautiful wooden board, covered in rich oils that paint the surface into a bubbling ocean. Rhodey passes him a package of brie and a small knife, which all get neatly organised on the board.

“Maybe,” Steve says, scratching at the back of his neck.

There’s a cool breeze trailing in from the deck, the huge doors thrown open, curtains flapping gently.

A British voice, possibly belonging to the pale set of legs lounging half out of sight on a chaise longue, rings out.

“Master Anthony! I’m sure somewhere along the way I drilled some manners into that head of yours.”

“Are you sure?” Tony says, whisking the small platter out the door. “I don’t recall.”

Steve follows, assured by Rhodey’s benign smile as he inches around the barbeque. Rhodey lifts the lid, smoke escaping the confines and filling the air, and pokes at the sausages sizzling away alongside a row of vegetables.

“I enjoy my days off, but I don’t enjoy watching your abysmal attempt at cooking,” the older gentleman says, arranging his feet on a small table.

“Jarvis,” Rhodey replies, “stop flirting.”

Jarvis sniffs.

“Anthony, I wasn’t joking about your manners.”

Tony claps a hand over his shoulder, grinning. “Jarvis, this is Steve. Steve, this is Jarvis. He’s known me since I was in diapers.”

“You were just as stubborn about those as you are about bread,” Jarvis demurred.

“I’m not a snob for not eating white bread,” Tony defends immediately, handing a cracker piled with olives, tomatoes and cheese over to Steve.

The cheese had an interesting layer of crust, a creamy, white texture underneath.

“Are too,” Rhodey says, “you couldn’t see the looks of disgust sent my way when I dared to grill cheese on white bread.”

“There’s a perfect way to make grilled cheese, Rhodey,” Tony says, “it’s a sacred art.”

Steve’s lips twitch, and Tony grins widely at him, nodding towards the cracker.

“That’s brie. It’s okay if you don’t like it, it can be a bit rich.”

He eats it in one bite, the rich flavours exploding across his tongue immediately. Steve had been used to stale, thin waifs for crackers, and in the army, hardtack, eaten in the dark to remain ignorant about the presence of weevils. These crackers were crumbly, with hints of thyme and garlic, and complimented the tangy tomato and olives, the interesting taste of the brie eluding his palate until the last minute.

“I don’t mind it,” Steve says.

“Have you had a chance to try any other new food, Steve?” Rhodey asks, smiling charmingly, one hand pressing warmly against the small of Tony’s back as he shuffles past, offering another loaded cracker to Jarvis, before holding the other to Rhodey’s lips.

“Not really.” Steve scratches his head, darting his eyes between the three of them, no judgement in their eyes, merely curiosity. “I don’t really know where to start.”

Tony clicks his fingers. “We can remedy that, Steve. Can’t have you going to any old Cantonese restaurant. I know a place. Tiny, no signage, just a window filled with roasted duck. Best you’ll get in the city.”

Rhodey wipes his hands on his apron, a dab of oil on his lip from the olives, wiped daintily off by Tony’s gentle finger. He sucks the remnants off, and turns to gaze at Steve inquiringly.

“It’s a date, right?”

Rhodey nods, before Steve can even open his mouth.

“We’ll pick you up Wednesday night. That work for you?”

Steve, who so far had a grand total of zero friends in the future, nods reluctantly. It sounded better than sitting alone, firmly telling himself he doesn’t need company, or someone to write letters to, or listen to music with, or go to a baseball game with.

“I’ll be there,” Steve says, forcing what he hopes is a personable smile on his face.

Tony and Rhodey angle identical grins at him, exchanging a silent, pleased glance.

Steve blames the blazing sun for the prick of heat that spreads rapidly down his neck.

[kangshxrtie]

51 . yn protection squad

prev . main

you were just minding your own business, sitting outside the classroom, waiting for nien, kaede, and chaeyeon to finish up. your phone was keeping you company, scrolling through whatever came up on your feed, when you suddenly heard footsteps slow down beside you. instinctively, you kept your eyes on your phone, hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.

but, of course, life never worked out that easily.

“yn,” nakyoung’s voice came from above you, soft but filled with an annoying persistence. “we need to talk.”

"hey," she repeated as she approached, her voice slightly breathless as if she had rushed over the moment she saw you. you didn't bother looking up, pretending to be deeply engrossed in whatever was on your screen.

you sighed but didn’t look up. maybe if you just kept scrolling, she’d take the hint and leave. it wasn’t like she could force you into a conversation, right?

"yn, can we talk for a second?" she pressed, standing right in front of you now.

you sighed, locking your phone and finally glancing up at her. "what do you want, nakyoung?"

she gave you that familiar look, the one that had always made you weak before, but now it only reminded you of how much she'd hurt you. "i just... i wanted to talk. you haven’t been responding to my texts."

"there’s nothing to talk about," you muttered, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. you couldn’t let her get to you again. not when you were finally in a good place with xinyu. things had started to feel real, and the last thing you needed was nakyoung trying to mess it all up.

nakyoung shifted her stance, crossing her arms in frustration. "you can’t just ignore me forever, yn. we need to talk about us."

you sighed, "there is no us, nakyoung. i keep telling you, i won't break up with xinyu."

she rolled her eyes as if you hadn’t just said you were in a relationship. "come on, yn. we both know that you’re just doing that to make me jealous. you don’t actually like her."

your patience was running thin. "no, nakyoung. i'm dating xinyu because i want to be with her. i'm not doing this for you."

nakyoung frowned, clearly not liking your response. "i know you, yn. this thing with xinyu is not right, especially because you told me you hated her and would never speak to her again. it's not too late for us to go back to how things were."

you stood up, putting your phone in your pocket. "nakyoung, you need to stop. i’m not going back to you. ever. you hurt me, and i’m happy with xinyu. so please, just leave me alone."

her expression faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered, taking a step closer. "you don’t mean that. you’re just mad at me."

you tried to keep your voice steady. "no, nakyoung, i mean every word. i don’t plan on leaving xinyu anytime soon, so just… move on... again."

before nakyoung could respond, the door to the lecture hall swung open, and nien, kaede, and chaeyeon emerged from their class. the three of them spotted you instantly, and it didn’t take long for them to notice nakyoung standing uncomfortably close to you.

"yn!" nien called out, her voice immediately cutting through the tension. her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene.

kaede’s face darkened when she saw nakyoung. "fuck are you doing here?" she asked, already walking over to stand next to you.

chaeyeon seemed unsure at first but quickly made her way over as well. "valid question, cause i sure as hell didn't invite her."

nakyoung crossed her arms defensively. "i was just talking to yn."

"about what?" nien asked, her tone cold.

"none of your business," nakyoung shot back, her voice sharper now.

kaede scoffed, stepping in front of you like a human shield. "it actually is our business. especially when you’re basically harassing yn."

nakyoung’s jaw tightened. "i’m not harassing her. i just wanted to talk."

"well, she doesn’t want to talk to you," nien interjected, crossing her arms. "she’s made that pretty clear, hasn’t she?"

nakyoung turned to chaeyeon, hoping for some backup. "chaeyeon, come on. you know yn and i were good together. can’t you talk some sense into them?"

chaeyeon frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. "nakyoung… i think it’s time to let this go."

nakyoung’s face dropped as if she hadn’t expected chaeyeon to take your side. she opened her mouth to argue, but kaede cut her off.

"seriously, nakyoung," kaede said, her voice firm. "we used to be friends so i know you understand the concept of leaving somebody alone."

"exactly," nien added. "we’re not letting you ruin things for her again."

nakyoung looked at you one last time, her expression torn between anger and frustration. "fine," she muttered under her breath before turning on her heel and walking away without another word.

you exhaled, feeling the tension finally leave your body as she disappeared down the hallway.

"are you okay?" nien asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"yeah," you replied, though your voice was still a bit shaky. "thanks for stepping in. she just… doesn't get that i don't want her anymore."

kaede rolled her eyes. "she’s delusional if she thinks you’re going back to her after everything she put you through."

chaeyeon gave you a sympathetic smile. "i’m sorry it had to go down like that, yn. i didn’t think nakyoung would push it this far."

"it’s not your fault," you said quickly. "i just… i’m glad you guys showed up when you did."

"we’re always gonna have your back," nien said with a grin. "yn protection squad for life."

you laughed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "real ones. i just hope she'll stop after this."

"she better," kaede muttered, glancing down the hall where nakyoung had disappeared. "otherwise, next time, i’m actually gonna have to start biting bitches."

main . nxt

taglist ༒ @gtfoiydlyj @inybits @baewonlove @yeetaberry127 @sananapotter @happyjuhyun @nicstumblur @museujin @urmom2314 @yunalvrrr @jeindall777 @saysirhc @idleyuri @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @artrizzler19 @peranoo

[witchermonstermayhem]

A Witcher Event for December! Instead of something with monsters let's make a Witchery Yuletide Calendar together with one or several nice surprises every day. Claim a day/prompt (or more than one) and post something for it before your day, tagging @witchermonstermayhem and #yuletidecalendar so that I can find and share it with everybody on the day the calendar door opens.

What can you share? Fics, Poems, Art, Edits, Recipes, Mood boards, whatever you like! It should fit the prompt and the season and must be related to The Witcher somehow.

Do I have to create something new? - No! You can also share an old work of yours or recommend somebody else's work. The only thing that's not allowed is AI created stuff.

How do I claim a prompt? - Please send me a message to let me know which prompt(s) you'd like to share something for until November 24.

Is NSFW allowed? - Yes! Just tag it properly.

Are modern AUs and crossovers allowed? - Yes, definitely!

I missed the deadline to claim a prompt. Can I still participate? - Yes, no problem! Just post before the day of the prompt and tag me so that I can share it. The claiming is just so that I can see which days have not been claimed and can put them up for 'adoption' on the 25th.

Can I combine this event with other events? - Yes! As long as the other event allows it, combine as much as you like. For example there's @fluff-cember, @whumpcember, @hurtcember or maybe you have a bingo card that is not done yet.

Can I combine different days of the event? - No, not really as each entry is for one specific day only. If you want to write a single fic for several prompts, it will work only if the prompts are used in different chapters and in chronological order.

Can I be a completionist? - If you want to share something for every day, that's awesome and then you're definitely a completionist. But it's also great if you share something for just one day.

Is there an Ao3 collection? Yes, it's here: WitcheryYuletideCalendar

(You can already post to it, but it won't be revealed before 1st December)

The overall goal of the event is to have at least one entry for every day that other people can enjoy during Yuletide as their daily does of The Witcher.

If you have questions, please don't hesitate to send an ask!

Please share this post so that many Witcher fans can join the event. Thank you!

Below the cut is a written list of the prompts:

1 - cold / freezing

2 - (shooting) star

3 - old friend / friends

4 - shelter

5 - hot beverage (coffee, tea, cocoa etc.)

6 - fire (place) / hot

7 - cat

8 - flowers / bouquet

9 - hot spring

10 - tree / forest / Christmas tree

11 - dog / puppy

12 - mistletoe

13 - snow / snowflake(s)

14 - lips / kiss

15 - (Christmas) cookies / baking

16 - moon / moon light / night

17 - snowman

18 - wool / knitting / crocheting

19 - dice / game

20 - unicorn

21 - gloves / mittens

22 - sleigh / sled / sledge / toboggan

23 - present

24 - heart / love

[till-the-end-official]

Ivan paces around his room as his sister stares at him in lesbian judgement. He really doesn't want to hear it from her, but she speaks anyway.

"Ivan. Till is not going to care what you wear on this date. Till already dresses like Adam Sandler on a regular basis. His idea of 'dressing nice' is probably being fully punked out. I think you'll be fine."

Ivan groans into his hands. His sister was right, but he'll never say that out loud. He sighs and goes back into the closet (lmao) and just picks his favorite outfit. He even got a matching cap and sunglasses for the outfit to hide himself in public.

"Noona, do you think he'd kill me if I took him somewhere too nice?"

"Yes."

Her speaking without hesitation definitely meant that she was 100% sure and also correct.

Ivan pouts and grumbles under his breath. He then gets a brilliant idea and gasps out loud.

"Oh my god, karaoke! It's literally that easy. Both of us are good at it... or well good at singing- and we can also order drinks and book a private room."

Sua regards him with vague amusement. She huffs fondly before standing up, making her way out of the house.

"Yeah. That works, just don't start making out in the booth. Unfortunately, there are cameras. Me and Mizi found out the hard way."

Ivan's face lights up in flames at the idea of making out with Till before the rest of the comment registers in his head.

"Wait you and Mizi-?!?"

Sua's already booked it out his apartment. Ivan has half the mind to chase her, but he has a date to get ready for.

Till, on the other hand, was freaking out. He was on call with Mizi, practically hyperventilating, as he dismantled his entire closet.

"Till, calm down. You're overthinking this. Ivan finds you so attractive as is- he would find you attractive in a potato sack. Calm down."

These words did not assure Till at all, his mind was set into panic mode. He threw outfit after outfit onto his bed, making his bedroom seem like a clothing store was blown up. He had NEVER put this much effort into how he looks, and it was reminding him just how simple his outfits were. He wasn't one to care about what he wore on dates, he usually just threw on whatever he felt like, but this time it was different. Everything about this date felt different.

"I-I still want to look somewhat presentable! Just because he may like whatever I wear doesn't mean I shouldn't put any effort into it!"

Till has never sounded more distressed in his life, and Mizi only ended up giggling as she watched her senior freak out over what to wear. She knew that deep down, whatever Till chose Ivan would drool over him in, but it was very sweet seeing Till put this much thought into his outfit.

"How about the outfit you wore to the Beat Rider event? The one with your black ripped jeans and leather jacket?"

Till had no energy to think of anything different, so he decided to go with that. While he was grabbing his clothes, he also grabbed some silver rings and earrings to go along with it. He threw on a simple blue crewneck, quickly putting a silver chain and another necklace with a lock around his neck before throwing on his hooded leather jacket. He put on his pair of black ripped jeans before quickly lacing up his Doc Martins.

"Do you think this looks good?"

Till asked, turning his camera on and showing Mizi the outfit. Mizi gasped, despite it being the outfit she suggested, and nodded excitedly.

"You look great! I'm sure Ivan is going to love it."

Right as the pink-hair actress said that, the sound of Till's doorbell going off could be heard.

"Speak of the devil... Thank you, Mizi."

"No problem at all! Just remember to be safe!"

Before Till could ask what she meant by that, Mizi hung up. He groaned quietly to himself before quickly grabbing a facemask and a pair of sunglasses just incase he needed them. He quickly ran out of his room, shoving his phone in his pocket before opening the door.

As soon as Till registered Ivan, he slammed the door on his face, his cheeks flushing up as he had a mini gay panic.

'Oh my god- we're going out and he looks like THAT?! I might have to wear my mask the entire time oh my god. He can't just SURPRISE me like that- I knew he was attractive but like I've never slammed the door before- wait! Oh shit!'

Till hurriedly opened the door again, cursing under his breath as he looked at Ivan. His face was even hotter than before he slammed the door, so he must look like a fucking apple right now. God... he felt so embarrassed. He would be surprised if Ivan didn't mistake him for a sundried tomato right now.

[birdmenmanga]

hour 20 of being awake means I can't actually articulate what is going on in my head. I know I'm right though.

[chastiefoul]

jjk men coming home and finding you crying

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji fluff and comfort

gojo satoru

you wiped your eyes quickly as you heard the door opened. you took a deep breath, making sure your voice didn’t come as shaky as you said, “welcome home, toru.” with a big grin and the usual paper bag filled with sweets on his right hand he planted a kiss on your head. “i’m home baby.”

you were just about to let out a sigh of relief when satoru suddenly knelt in front of you who’s on the couch, blindfold off as his blue eyes stared as if seeing right through you. “what’s wrong?” he said softly, his knuckles brushing over your cheek with such a careful gesture. “what do you mean?” you tilted your head, cringing inside at the bad feign. “you can’t fool my six eyes, baby. also what kind of boyfriend i’ll be if i can’t even notice when my girl is sad?”

you tried to form a sentence to say as an excuse but the kisses he peppered across your face wasn’t really helping. you chuckled as you whine softly, “toruu.” the white-haired man cupped your face, a gorgeous smile on his face. “my favorite sound, baby,” he said, kissing your lips. “tell me? pleaseeee.” you laughed once more at his emphasis at the last word. “it’s really nothing, toru.”

“i love listening to nothing. we even have some sweets here as snacks,” he said, opening the paper bag excitedly. “i think you just want an excuse to eat it at 8 pm,” you raised an eyebrow, as he grinned. “nonsense, baby. now c’mere, let me hold you while you tell your story.” he put you between his legs, your back resting on his broad chest comfortably. you sighed out of wonderment, thinking how you could be so lucky, being this loved by the man.

“here, pick whatever. this one is my favorite,” he rummaged through the bag that’s on your lap. you looked at him with fondness as his face leaned in beside you to see better. “yeah? you’ll give me your favorite?”

“there’s nothing in the world that you can’t get, baby.” he kissed the side of your face. “now start from the very beginning.”

geto suguru

“if you thought you were doing a great job hiding those tears i have some news for you sweet girl,” geto’s voice was gentle on your ear as he wipe the wet residue underneath your eyes with the inner sleeve of his robe. “i wasn’t really hiding it,” you frowned, somehow not liking the fact that he noticed your little moment of weakness. “yeah? so you were just rubbing your eyes all rough like that for no reason?” he gave you a little smile.

yeah, it was a battle you had lost from start.

he put his arms around you, rubbing your back in a soothing pattern. “what’s wrong baby, everything okay?” you melted right into his touch, resting your head on his chest right on the calming beating of his heart. “yeah, it’s not really a big deal,” you mumbled, your low spirit was really affecting him more than he would ever let you know. his hand kept moving as he once again kissed the side of your head, a low chuckled escaped him. “you’re cute when you think you have a choice on telling me what had upset you.”

you laughed softly at his playfulness, knowing full well to you’ll end up telling your boyfriend everything. “you’re right. but can i tell you later?” you asked, wanting just this peaceful moment to last just a little longer as you held him tight.

“’course baby, got all the time in the world for you.”

nanami kento

nanami already knew that something was off when the house felt a little quiet as he arrived. and then he found you hunched over as you stood behind the kitchen counter. “honey?” you wiped your eyes with what you thought was the speed of sound but it was clear to both of you that you had been crying. “hi ken, how was work?” you replied with a small voice, a smile nanami didn’t particularly like plastered on your face; only because it seemed forced.

“oh no, we’re not breezing past it. come here my love.” and his embrace enveloped you like a dream, all warm and perfect. he stroke your hair ever so softly as he whispered sweet nothings. when you calmed down a little he sneaked a hand under your jaw, rubbing his thumb on your cheek gently, a gesture with amount of love you could only guess. “what’s wrong, hm?” he questioned you, his eyes shone with adoration; there’s only you in that moment.

“i’m okay, ken. more importantly aren’t you tired from work?” there’s a deep crease between the blond’s man eyebrows he heard you say this, as if that was the most offensive thing he had ever heard from you. “’more importantly?’ there could be nothing that’s more important than you, dear,” he said, knowing that concern was from a good place, like he was worrying over you, of course you would fuss over him who just came home from work.

“still…” you hesitated, but he kissed it out of you quickly. “want me to prepare you a bath, love? you know i can get the perfect temperature for you,” he whispered, coaxing you. and he was right, even sometimes he would get it right more often than you. before you could even mumble out another excuse he continued. “and while you do that i’ll prepare dinner, okay? i’m sure there’re still some ingredients left to make that nice meal you like.”

“no, i couldn’t possibly let you do all the work ken-“

“love, i’m here. you can relax, okay? you always do so much for me, let me do this for you,” he reassured you, cupping your face as he trailed your cheeks with soft kisses. you’re still not convinced, as he smiled over your great concern. “do this for me, please?” he tried once more and there’s no way you could refuse that. you nodded, feeling another wave of tears coming out of gratitude for your boyfriend., “thank you ken, i love you so much.”

“i love you too. and when you’re ready to talk, i’m here okay? always.”

toji fushiguro

he lifted you up, your leg instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist as he grabbed both of your thighs to support you. you tighten the hold of your arms around his neck, resting your head on your shoulder, nuzzling closer to his neck; not wanting him to see your post-crying face.

he sat you on the kitchen counter, putting both of his hands on the hard surface, on either side of your body practically refraining you to run away. “what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asked you who’s currently staring at the fingers on your lap as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. he kissed your shoulder blade, intentionally lingering a little long to hopefully calm your nerves. “nothing, i guess,” you answered nonchalantly, like detaching yourself. “you’re shit at lying babe, you know that right? look at the frown that you’re wearing right now, it’s almost touching the floor,” he said as he kissed your neck next. “mean,” you meant to frown, and you realized you were already doing that for the past hour. fine, maybe he had a point, so what?

“nah, what’s mean is when my girl won’t even tell me what made her upset,” he said, tilting his head confidently, his big hand on your waist as he rubbed your side. the look on his face was enough to make you relent. “fine… you’ll force it out of me sooner or later anyways,” you mumbled as he smiled, knowing that you needed a little push is all to sound your worries. “atta girl.”

“tell me all ‘bout it yeah? don’t leave out a single detail. then maybe if you’re up for it, i can show you that i got many ways to cheer you up,”

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[shotmrmiller]

military issued wife but you didn't know that using the "dating app" your friend brought up once in idle talk would end with you in an office with a (signed) marriage license on the desk, actively not looking at your 'husband', the burly lummox with a skull mask who's dwarfing the chair he can barely fit in.

you'd thought it'd be like tinder. a potential dating site. as in messaging on the app, getting to know each other, exchanging personal numbers before going on a date. not marriage. not opening your front door expecting it to be your door dasher and instead it's him with a rucksack in one hand and duffel in the other.

he'd looked down his thick nose at you, grunted a quiet, "not bad", and pushed past as if you were a swinging door to a saloon. what the fuck had he been doing there? you'd only spoken a couple of times with him and left on read for the some of it. you'd chosen to move on, try to match with someone else but the app had stopped working (you couldn't swipe right or left anymore) so you'd just put it on the back burner. you had better things to worry about than another disappointment of a man then.

except now said disappointment of a overly large man is taking up most of the couch and his legs aren't even all that far apart. and he's at your house. the house you'd never sent him the address to. as a matter of fact, you'd received a text from an unknown number earlier that had said someone would be home in a few. you'd ignored it thinking it was a wrong number situation but now you're sure it was him. how he got your phone number is also a mystery.

you'd tried to argue. to threaten him with the cops. to get him out and away, far fucking away, but he'd only scooped you up and let you pelt his broad back with your fists. chuckled low in his throat while he smacked your arse to keep still. "i'd hate to drop m'wife."

whatever fight you had he ate right out of you with the heels of your feet digging into the large curve of his shoulders and his hands curled around the back of your thighs. maybe it's because it'd been a while but he'd played your body like an instrument and had you bucking your hips against his tongue, slick coating his face in minutes. (your cheeks burn furiously hot when you think back on what he'd said then. "tight little thing 'nd you've only taken my two fingers." it's flattering, sue you.)

he'd lapped at your sodden cunt until you had overstimulation clumping your lashes together, inner thighs tender from the bristles of his shorn hair and unshaven jaw, your palm on the crown of his head having both pulled him to you and pushed him away.

and then he'd wiped your release with the back of his hand, thumbed the swollen flesh of your bottom lip and rumbled that it's time for bed.

which eventually led to you being here. in front of a man he calls Price, a marriage certificate unlike any you've ever glanced upon, a large gloved hand curled snugly around your leg, fingers grazing a little too close to where he'd left aching and swollen just yesterday.

you're reading the terms and conditions of anything from here on forward. even the fine print.

and then soap comes around and plants a seed in his head of him planting a seed in you :/ at least you can tell your nosy ass aunt that at least you've got a man while she's on her 4th divorce on thanksgiving 💅🏼

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[boowritess]

very mild 18+ simon riley x reader

lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.

atleast to you.

when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.

he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.

he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.

he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.

he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.

it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.

even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.

but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.

it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.

he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.

"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.

around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.

Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.

"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.

"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.

Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.

he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.

'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'

image attached

Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.

Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.

he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.

just you and your simon.

a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo

[rebelfell]

special delivery

eddie munson x fem!reader

A quiet night at home turns into something else entirely when Eddie Munson shows up to deliver your pizza.

Isn’t this how all mediocre pornos great love stories start?

18+ MDNI┃8.1k

cw: light alcohol/weed use, discussions of poor sex-periences, bed sharing, down bad eddie, fingering/oral (fem receiving)

I edged myself a little with this, it’s like a 7:1 ratio of fluff to smut with nothing but tensionnn in between. Just how I like it.

You didn’t mind being alone. Not really.

Truth be told, you kind of preferred a nice quiet night to yourself every now and again. It gave you a chance to read without interruption; to watch a long stretch of episodes of your favorite show you had seen a hundred times before; to indulge in a lengthened version of your skincare routine.

But lately you’d been having a lot of quiet nights.

Winter had settled fully in Hawkins, the frigid weather and barrage of storms lately making it difficult to go out at night or do much of anything other than sit inside and count the walls. And with Robin gone for the whole weekend, the relentless silence of your apartment only made it worse.

You made an honest effort to remedy the situation—sending a handful of texts to anyone you thought might be available, only to come up empty. Nancy and Jonathan were out celebrating some anniversary. Steve had a date with whatever girl he had conned into thinking he was charming enough to go out with this week. And Chrissy was fully buried underneath her coursework, but she “could definitely do something next week!”

So that was that. You knew Argyle was working his usual shift, so you hadn’t bothered to text him. Instead, dialing the number for Surfer Boy as you resolved to drown your sorrows in a pizza loaded with all the toppings Robin always gagged at whenever you suggested them.

It was impossible for you not to beam when the man himself answered, the roughness in his voice indicating he was currently surrounded by a fresh cloud of his beloved Purple Palm Tree Delight.

He was now managing the franchise’s first and only midwest location they decided to open after the California chain started recording a deluge of calls from Indiana and assumed it must be some sort of untapped market. Come to find out, the people in Hawkins were just calling the number on the side of Argyle’s bright yellow van they’d seen riding around town.

“That’s all?” he chortled at your order. “One small pizza? Are you and Buckley planning some kinda Battle Royale fight to the death or something?”

“She’s gone for the weekend,” you explained.

“Oh, really? All by your lonesome then, are you?”

His typically gravelly tone was tinged with a hint of mischief, but you didn’t pay it much mind. This was Argyle, after all. You knew him well enough by now not to try and decode anything that went on inside that wonderfully weird head of his.

“Well, with you at work there’s no one to keep me company, is there?” you teased, putting on a flirty affectation you just knew would make him blush.

“Baby doll, I’ll close up shop right now!”

His deep and throaty laugh made you giggle along with him as he relayed your order to the kitchen staff and then came back on the line to assure you that it would be there “lemony split.”

With dinner ordered, you started to assemble some essentials for your wild night on the sofa— oversized blanket, extra snacks, a small arsenal of face masks and serums. You even splurged a bit and lit one of your nicer candles, the fresh scent of bergamot filling up your living room as you headed into the kitchen to clean up.

About half-way through you doing your dishes came the soft tread of footsteps on the stairwell outside, followed by a bouncy and rhythmic knock being rapped on your front door.

“One sec,” you called out, shaking the remnants of soapy water from your hands and drying them on the thighs of your sweatpants.

Your hand closed around the door knob and you yanked it open only to be bombarded by a head of dark, wild curls and a pair of deep brown eyes that instantly made your mind go blank.

“What are you doing here?”

The words just burst out of you, sounding far harsher than you intended, and Eddie Munson’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smirk as he looked you up and down.

“Nice to see you, too,” he chortled. “That how you greet everyone who brings you your dinner?”

Your gaze fell to the pizza box he held in his hands that you had missed entirely, too distracted by his eyes and his nose and his lips and those cute little dimples in his cheeks. Not to mention his stupid big hands with his stupid long fingers that were wrapped around your dinner…

“Sorry,” you said, squishing your eyes shut and shaking your head as though it would wipe away your lustful thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Or, um…I meant, I didn’t know you worked at Surfer Boy.”

“It’s a new gig,” Eddie said, his smile filled with as much wily charm as ever as he handed over the box. “Argyle convinced me to come on board. Decent hours and the money’s good.”

“Oh…sweet.” 

You nodded back at him and prayed you didn’t sound half as awkward as you felt. With one hand, you balanced the pizza box on your hip while the other reached for the cash you’d set out earlier on the little table by your door. But a frown covered your face as you glanced between the bills and the box you were holding that looked quite a bit bigger than it should have been.

“Something wrong?” Eddie asked. “Aw, shit—we didn’t fuck up the toppings, did we?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you assured. “It’s just, I only ordered a small and this one’s a large.”

“Oh, yeah. Arg had them change it after he rang it in. He just wanted you to have some extra.”

You chuckled, “Really? I don’t know why, it’s just me tonight.”

“No Buckley?”

Eddie’s brows raised slightly, disappearing behind his twisty bangs as he looked past you inside your apartment. You swayed slightly, in an attempt to block his view of the little couch nest you’d built for yourself. His gaze returned to yours, eyes flickering with something like intrigue.

“You’re flying solo, then?” he asked.

“Pretty much. I mean, I called around a bit and everyone was busy. So…yeah.”

He tilted his head at you. “You didn’t call me.”

“Oh…”

Eddie’s lips quirked in a smile that actually made your breath catch. He didn’t sound offended, not like he was accusing you of anything. But his soft voice and the feigned (it was feigned, wasn’t it?) look of disappointment on his face made your chest radiate with warmth.

The truth was, you would have loved to call Eddie. You had actually hovered over his contact info in your phone more times than you cared to admit, only to keep chickening out at the last second.

“W-well, you’re working tonight,” you reasoned. “So, we couldn’t have hung out anyway.”

“Actually… Argyle cut me early,” Eddie said. “Turned out to be a slower night than he thought, so he said I could call it quits after this delivery.”

Oh. Oh. 

“Well, do you…” You swallowed hard, trying to bring some relief to your throat that had run dry. “I mean, did you wanna have dinner? Apparently, I’ve got plenty of food.”

Another weak chuckle trickled out of you as you held up the pizza box, telling yourself it must be the heat of the pie within making your palms sweat the way they were. Eddie’s dark eyes actually danced under the harsh fluorescent lights of your building’s breeze-through.

“That’d be great,” he said, flashing you a smile that made your knees wobble. “Wayne’s gone this weekend too. Trailer’s kind of lonely without him.”

“Okay! Uh, come on in.”

The sudden shrillness of your voice made you cringe inwardly as you stepped sideways for him to pass, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or at least he acted like he didn’t. He simply smiled as he came inside, pausing to toe off his boots and shuck off his leather jacket at the door.

He’d clearly dressed for the heat of Surfer Boy’s kitchen and not the bitter wind howling outside, clad only in a red and black flannel over a gray tank that seemed to cling to his lean frame as if by static electricity alone. His ratty black jeans taunted you with flashes of pale skin peeking through the holes in the knees and the smell of oregano filled your nose as he fluffed up his hair.

He looked a lot better than you did—particularly when you were in your lounge clothes, which weren’t exactly fetching.

Baggy and oversized, worn threadbare in more than a few places from multiple wears. Splattered with a myriad of tiny mystery stains no amount of washing could get out.

Nothing to be done about it now, you supposed.

Eddie had been to your place plenty of times for parties and movie nights, but that had always been with other people around.

Never just you. Never the two of you alone.

That realization and the nerves it induced made the back of your neck unbearably hot as you set the pizza on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins—all of the dignified and civilized things you’d have to use now that you had an audience.

And alcohol. Definitely, definitely needed alcohol if you were gonna even attempt to be normal.

“You want a beer?” you asked from the fridge.

Eddie nodded as he followed into the kitchen and leaned against the cabinetry. His totally calm and casual demeanor only made you more anxious, your chest getting tight and your hands shaking as you pried the caps off two beers. You clinked your bottle against his and took a long draught, heart racing as you stared at the ceiling.

Chill the fuck out, you scolded yourself. He’s just a guy. It’s just pizza. It’s no big deal, it’s no—

“You okay?” Eddie asked, making your runaway train of thought come to a screeching halt.

“Yeah, totally,” you lied through your teeth. “Um… I guess I was fully in hermit mode already. I really didn’t expect to see anyone tonight.”

Let alone you, you finished internally.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie said. “I didn’t mean to, like, crash your whole evening.”

“No, no—it’s not like that at all,” you stammered, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. “I’m glad you’re here, really. It’s nice to have company.”

“Yeah? Okay, good.” He smiled into another sip of his beer. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Your lips spread into a smile that mirrored his and a sort of quiet warmth passed between you. You found yourself staring into his eyes, holding his gaze until it flickered down your body.

He studied you in that soul-plundering way of his that made you feel all light and tingly all over.

“Here, you should have this back,” he said all of a sudden, “I feel kind of weird keeping it.”

You looked down just as he tugged the money you’d paid him with out of his pocket. He held it out to you, only to find your hand already pushing it back, fingers briefly closing over his fist.

“Eddie, no. No way,” you scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you fixed him with a warning glare—a pretty withering one if you did say so yourself. One that made him nod reluctantly and sigh softly in defeat.

“Alright, at least let me contribute something,” he said, returning the cash to his pocket and instead producing a fat, pristinely rolled joint. Argyle’s handiwork, you were all but certain.

You grinned and clinked your bottle with his. 

“Done.”

Beers and plates and joint in hand, you and Eddie headed over to the sofa only for you to stop short when you remembered your former plans for the evening. He watched curiously as you cleared the table, your stomach even more unruly now with half a beer sloshing around inside of it.

”What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the various packets and bottles. You laughed nervously.

“It’s just skin stuff. I was gonna do a face mask while I watched a movie…because that’s just the rock and roll kinda lifestyle I lead.”

Your jittery attempt at a joke only made Eddie’s own smile widen as he plucked one of the packets from your grasp and held it up to read the label.

“Can I do one?” he asked.

You choked back another laugh, brow arching at him in disbelief. “Do you want to?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he chortled. “They look kinda like potions or something. Seems like fun.”

You rolled your shoulder in a shrug. “Then knock yourself out,” you said. 

And he did.

Eddie plopped himself down at one end of the sofa and ripped into the package he’d selected. It was branded as a “unicorn” mask, which really just meant it was made out of shiny, holographic paper that shone with rainbows when the light hit it. He admired the swirling colors briefly and then set about laying the mask over his face, his head suddenly turning to catch you staring.

“Am I beautiful yet?” he asked, playfully fluttering his long lashes at you.

You already were.

The thought popped into your head so quickly you almost said it out loud and you had to bite back the comment, your pulse starting to race all over again. You pressed your lips together as you nodded and focused all your attention on placing a pair of gel patches under your own eyes.

Eddie watched you tap them into place, smiling. “You do this a lot?” he asked.

“Every couple weeks or so. More often in the winter because the cold really fucks with my skin. Obviously.” You gestured at your face and sighed.

“I never noticed,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “Always looks nice to me.”

The compliment made your face burn in spite of the cooling aloe patches and you shook your head, the tingling in your cheeks only increasing the longer his eyes lingered on you. With shaky hands, you reached for the remote and started flipping through the channels while Eddie dug into the pizza. The both of you hummed excitedly in unison as you landed on an old horror flick just as the opening credits had started to roll, the decision of what to watch made easy.

As you set the remote down and reached for your own slices, realizing Eddie had plated up two and placed them down in front of you, you couldn’t stop your eyes from dating sideways to look at him once more. But the moment you did, a loud laugh burst out and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to try and stifle it—failing miserably.

He had his tongue stretched out as far as it would go, the pink muscle wiggling wildly as he tried to guide the end of his pizza into his mouth through the too-small opening of his mask.

“Hang on, hang on,” you said, taking some mercy on him. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, “I’m doing great over here.”

It only made you laugh harder watching Eddie as he kept trying to eat, now clumsily flicking out his tongue like a drunken chameleon and grimacing when he tasted some of the product on his mask.

He stilled, though, as you scooted onto the center cushion and began to further tear the slits around his mouth, your fingers trembling as they brushed the corners of his plush lips.

Too late, you realized how close your face had gotten to his. Your eyes nearly crossed you were staring at him so hard, trapped in his hypnotic gaze as his enormous eyes locked on yours. The deep brown, almost black, of them only looked more otherworldly like this, surrounded by swirls of silver and rainbows like he was some kind of alien or android. Blinking dumbly, as if coming out of a trance, you pulled your hands away.

“Um…better?” you asked, eyes darting away from his face and almost instantly returning.

Eddie tested how far he could unhinge his jaw, stretching his mouth open as far as he could, unencumbered by the chin portion of his mask. He brought his slice up to take a massive bite.

“Perfect,” he said, grinning widely through a mouthful of cheese and sauce.

You actually did manage to relax at least slightly the longer the night wore on, helped immensely by the joint Eddie lit and offered to you to take the first hit. It passed leisurely between you, each of your inhales making it easier to deal with the idea that your lips were basically touching his.

Another movie started up after the one you first put on finished, but you made no move towards the remote. Your body felt warm and relaxed from the high, limbs melding into the sofa cushions like you were becoming part of them.

And Eddie too seemed perfectly happy to spend his night exactly where he was. His unicorn mask sat discarded on top of his pizza crusts and he’d shifted down in his seat, knees spreading wide and filling your mind with…thoughts.

You kept expecting him to make some excuse to leave, freaked out that he’d caught you looking at him just a few too many times for comfort.

But he never did.

“I think this is the last of it,” Eddie said, staring at the tiny smoldering nub pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Take it, it’s yours,” you smiled, letting your head squish against the back of the couch. 

Eddie shook his head. “C’mon, now,” he grinned back at you. “Sharing is caring.”

He crooked his fingers, motioning for you to move in closer as he brought the joint up to his lips and steadily inhaled the last hit. He shifted onto the center cushion and you mirrored his movement, his knee bumping your calf lightly as you tucked your feet beneath you, toes wiggling nervously.

With his free hand, he gently cupped the side of your face and tilted your head to the side as his own lips parted and you leaned together. 

A stream of smoke poured out of him and you breathed it in, holding it in your chest for a few moments before you exhaled it back at him. He smiled as your breath fanned over his face, his dimples showing as his cheeks pushed up fully. The sight made your own smile spread, pulling your bottom lip back with your teeth as his thumb softly caressed your jaw.

His lips parted again, a whisper of your name falling off them, sounding like a foreign language. 

You inhaled deeply again, trying to steady your racing heart, your whole body suddenly tingling in a way that was distinctly different from the way it did from the high. It didn’t do any good, though, not when Eddie’s head lifted slightly and you swore his eyes started to close—

A loud BEEP made you jump away, the moment shattered by your phone getting a text.

You instantly felt the loss of Eddie’s hand where it had been holding you, cold now in spite of all the blood currently coursing beneath your skin. You turned and fumbled about for your phone as it beeped again, almost more insistently.

Eddie retreated to his end of the sofa and you gave your head another forcible shake, trying to rid yourself of the shivers running rampant over your body. Whatever you imagined was just about to happen was surely not going to—the weed had to have your mind playing tricks on you.

“Ugh.”

The sound popped out unconsciously, irritation flaring just at the sight of the name attached to the message and making you recoil before you even opened it to see what it said.

“Jeez,” Eddie smirked at your distasteful noise, giving you a sly look. “Who’s that?”

“Nobody,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just some guy I went out with a few times.”

Eddie sputtered slightly on the sip of beer he’d just taken, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks and his eyes rounding slightly as he wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans.

“Oh. Do I, um…do I need to, like, make myself scarce or something?”

A bitter laugh burst out at the implication and you started to shake your head a little too hard. “Ahh, no,” you told him flatly, “Not at all.”

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed, his smile returning, seeming almost a little pleased to hear that.

“How come?” he asked with a teasing smile, nodding at the rest of your skincare on the table. “You don’t wanna get him over here? Get him all nice and moisturized?”

“I’m good,” you assured, clicking off your phone and silencing it before laying it face down on the table. “Not exactly in the mood to beg someone to go down on me tonight, so—”

“Beg?” Eddie scoffed, taking another swig of his beer. “Who has to be begged to do that?”

Your gaze darted sideways, eyeing him curiously. 

“Uhh…all of them? In my experience, most guys aren’t all that into it. You know?”

“No, not really,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your own drink stopped half-way to your lips and you chanced another glance at him. Your voice went quiet. Meeker than you would have liked. Lacking all the frankness with which he spoke.

“You…you do?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, making a girl come on your tongue is like…”

He trailed off into silence, looking up at the ceiling as he searched for the right word, but you’d jumped back in before he could find it.

“You make them come? Just…just from that?”

“Ahh…” Eddie faltered now, staring at his lap and picking at the label on his beer with his thumb nail. “Not always. It depends on the girl. But, I dunno…maybe, like, ninety percent of the time?”

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, eyes rounding with embarrassment when you realized you said it out loud. Beside you, Eddie shifted in his seat on the couch, turning himself towards you.

“Do you not come when they go down on you?”

You blinked back at him, almost too stunned to speak. “Well…no. They aren’t usually down there that long. I mostly just need it because the spit helps when I’m not wet.”

Holy shit. That weed must have been way stronger than you realized for these words to be spilling out of you like they were. Cheeks officially a raging inferno, you focused every speck of your attention on the movie flickering on the TV.

Eddie’s eyes never left your face, though. His expression only softened as he stared at you, his words coming out in a hushed whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Your face only burned hotter from the way he said it. It’s not exactly pity in his tone, or filling his eyes, it’s more like…disappointment.

Disappointment in who, you weren’t entirely sure. And you sure as shit weren’t going to let this go on long enough to find out.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how we got on this,” you said. “This is way too much information for you.”

“No, no, that’s not what I—”

Eddie’s hand started to reach out for you, but you were already on your feet. 

Scrambling to gather up your soiled plates and desperate to look anywhere besides at him, you hurried into the kitchen to start cleaning up. The weed in your system was starting to turn on you, making your mind run rampant with competing thoughts, the most persistent of them being an echo of Eddie’s voice, hearing the same four words over and over and over again.

I fuckin’ love it.

Just the memory of him saying them made your stomach swoop and your core flutter, your hands shaking as you reached to turn on the tap.

“Can I just ask you one more thing?”

Eddie’s voice behind you made your shoulders tense, but you forced them to remain still—trying to look relaxed. The plates in your hands clinked against the sink basin as you set them down and turned slowly, resting your butt on the edge of the counter as you nodded at him.

He moved forward tentatively, setting down the beer bottles he’d brought from the living room.

“Do you like going down on guys?”

Your mouth fell open at the question and you had to quickly snap it shut. “Um…yeah,” you said after clearing your throat. “I like it fine.”

Truth be told…you really did like it. And with the right partner, you kind of loved it.

There was a kind of satisfaction you got watching even the most confident and charismatic guys be reduced to a simpering pile of putty as soon as your mouth came anywhere near their cock.

It was an intoxicating sort of power you felt when you drew the most desperate and eager sounds out of them—like when a guy slid into your mouth for the first time and just groaned in relief, like he had never felt anything as good as you in his life.

“Okay, then,” Eddie grinned, his eyes flickering as he watched your face. “So the person you’re with should like it too, right? He shouldn’t do it just because he has to. He should do it because he wants to make you feel good. The same way you want him to feel good.”

He took slow, careful steps forward as he spoke, the distance between you getting smaller with each. You felt your chest start to heave, trying to keep the furious pounding of your heart under control as Eddie’s body drew nearer.

He came to a stop in front of you, brown eyes trained on the space between your nose and chin. He licked his lips, running the flat of his tongue over the bottom one like he was imagining it was your own. Saliva flooded your mouth and you swallowed it down, lips trembling as they parted.

You thought you might be sick with anticipation, waiting for the touch of his mouth on yours. Because he was gonna kiss you, right? 

God, did you want him to kiss you…

Your grasp curled under the lip of the counter, nails digging into the wood beneath the laminate. Eddie’s eyes broke from yours, flitting down to see your hands clenched, like you were trying to rip off a chunk of it. His brow furrowed slightly and he took a step back, the absolute deflation you felt as he stepped away making your whole body slump as the tension flooded out of it.

It was so overwhelming, you had to look away, eyes landing on the clock over the stove.

“Oh, shit!” you gasped, making Eddie’s head jump back up. “Is it really that late?”

Midnight had come and gone according to the glowing green numbers without you so much as noticing. Eddie swallowed hard, his mouth falling open like he wanted to say something else, but no words came out. Instead, he busied himself with getting the emptied bottles he’d set down and tossing them in the recycling bin.

“I, um…I should get out of your hair,” he sighed, ringed hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You weren’t totally sure what possessed you to say what you did next. Something about the sight of his frowning face, the corners of his lips turned down in confusion or even disappointment, it was hard to say which. All you could think was that you didn’t want him to leave.

“You don’t have to,” you said suddenly.

Eddie’s stopped short and his spine straightened, his head turning slowly towards you like he wasn’t convinced he really just heard those words come out of your mouth. You shot him a small smile. 

“You can stay over…if you want.”

He stared back at you, doe eyes blinking at you in surprise. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying not to sound like your vocal chords were in a vice. “The roads are shit and it’s late. I mean…it’s only if you want. You certainly don’t have to—”

“No, no, no, that-that would be great, actually,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. He took a steadying breath and smiled as his eyes met yours again. “I’d really like that.”

With the sort of energy that would make a hummingbird jealous, you bustled around the apartment gathering a spare pillow and an extra blanket for Eddie while he brushed his teeth in the bathroom. You carried them over to the couch, hugging the linens tight to your chest. 

You thought about how they might smell like him in the morning. How he might wake up with his hair all big and messy from sleep, his eyes half-lidded with crust in the corners, his boxers slung low on his narrow hips, the small trail of hair that swirled just below his navel on display—

“Thanks,” Eddie said, making you jump when you realized he was behind you. 

Your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums as you turned around and held the linens out to him. His fingers met yours among the folds and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“N-no problem,” you said, averting your gaze again as you headed down the short hallway.

You hovered at your bedroom door, glancing back over your shoulder at Eddie as he flicked off all of the lights except the one on the end table, peeling away his flannel to reveal his sinewy arms littered with tattoos. The sight made your cheeks pulse in time with your heartbeat. Among other things.

“Good night,” you said. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he stared at you for a brief moment, his eyes running up and down your body, his bottom lip between his teeth like he was deep in thought about something.

“Good night,” he said finally. “Sleep tight.”

In bed, sleep evaded you. 

You lay there, splayed wide in the center of your mattress, arms and legs stretched out across the rumpled sheets you’d gotten yourself twisted up in too many times to count as you’d turned over and over and over and over, searching for a comfortable position. Finding none.

Any attempt at settling down for the night was impossible when you couldn’t shake this…this… incessant, obstinate, unrelenting need calling out for satisfaction. It was like your body could sense that Eddie was in the next room and was refusing sleep in favor of filling your mind with thoughts of what could happen, of what he might be doing, if you just went out there and went for it.

What if you did? Just strode down the hall and climbed on top of him in the dark? Whipped off your sleep shirt to bare yourself and let his hands and lips roam freely all over you? You could just about feel the cold bite of his rings on your skin, you were thinking about it so much.

The conversation you’d had earlier kept running through your head, his words still echoing in your mind and making you throb everywhere. 

I fuckin’ love it, he’d said. Blatantly. Plainly. Like it should be obvious. But you’d never heard anyone express that kind of affinity for eating a girl out.

The majority of the guys you’d been with, those who had been willing to do it at all, only seemed to be doing so under duress or out of obligation. Or worse, they spent the exact bare minimum amount of time down there in order to get you going, only to stop short, and wasted no time redirecting the focus to their pleasure.

Then, of course, they had all the time in the world.

It was hard to say why, but there was something about Eddie wanting to do it—even being eager to do so, that only made him hotter.

You huffed loudly and pushed the heels of your hands against your eyes, forfeiting the staring contest you were locked in with your ceiling.

This was so stupid. You were getting yourself all worked up, and over what? Eddie was most likely balls deep in a REM cycle by now, and if you went out there and made some kind of ill-conceived “move” on him there was absolutely, positively, no chance in hell he would ever—

Knock knock knock

The gentle raps on your door made you bolt upright in bed. They were so quiet, you thought maybe you might have dreamed them, painfully awake as you were. But then they sounded again, this time accompanied by Eddie’s hushed voice tentatively calling out your name.

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes zeroed in on your door knob, waiting with bated breath for it to turn, but Eddie spoke again before he dared to even touch it.

“Hey, um…can I come in?” he asked.

You tugged your sheets upwards, covering your exposed thighs as you inhaled a deep bracing breath. “S-sure,” you said, still despising the nervous way your voice wavered.

The door finally cracked open and Eddie poked his head in. A little sliver of light from the hallway illuminated your room and you could see his curls were now tied up in a bun, sitting low on his neck with a few short tendrils framing his face. It made it so that you could actually see his ears and you realized for the first time they were kind of cute. 

How the fuck could ears be so cute?

“Sorry to bug you,” he whispered. “But do you have an extra blanket or something? It’s, um…it's kind of cold out there.”

“Oh, shit,” you sighed in realization. “It’s probably the windows. One of them doesn’t close right. Uh, yeah, just let me—”

You started to climb out of the bed, only to freeze as your foot hovered over the rug. The big shirt you had worn to sleep in was long, but not that long. The hem of it barely skimmed the bottom of your ass and if you stood up, you would basically be flashing Eddie your underwear.

Maybe it was okay? It would only be for a second. And it was mostly dark, maybe he wouldn’t even notice? Or maybe you didn’t need to get out of bed at all…

“You know, um…” You licked your lips, daring yourself to look back up at Eddie. “You could just sleep in here. If you want.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered at that, dark brown irises black in the low light, filling with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it apprehension? Surprise? Excitement?

“You sure?” he asked, his voice still hushed.

You swallowed hard as you drew your leg back underneath the warmth of the blanket, nodding at him to confirm, your teeth gnawing at the fleshy insides of your cheek as you did.

He entered the room fully, revealing how he’d stripped down to nothing but his tank top and a pair of blue checkered boxers. As he pushed the door closed behind him and crossed over to the opposite side of your bed, your heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. 

Your eyes briefly darted downwards only for you to avert them just as quickly—telling yourself it must be the dark playing tricks on you, making you think you saw his boxers were half-tented.

The mattress dipped as he settled into the bed with you and you felt a rush of heat that came off his body like a furnace as you both scooted down to lay flat. Your body was rigid as you resumed your staring contest with the ceiling, thundering heartbeat only picking up more speed when Eddie rolled over onto his side to look at you.

“Can you not sleep?” he asked, his voice coming out in a gentle rasp.

Your hair rustled against your pillow as you shook your head. “No. You?”

“Nope. I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You inhaled sharply, certain he had to be able to see the effect he had on you even in near pitch darkness. But was it really your imagination that you seemed to have a similar effect on him?

“Yeah?” you whispered.

Eddie nodded, his eyes dropping to your mouth, the tip of his tongue swiping across his bottom lip to wet it as he spoke.

“I was wondering if I could…if you’d like me to—”

“Yes.”

The word all but flew out of you, filled with heat and need. And no sooner had you uttered it was he rolling on top of you, his body pressing against yours, his rapidly firming length prodding your heat through your panties. His lips descended on to yours, making every part of you heave in response to his touch. He actually moaned into your kiss, both your lips and his vibrating with the sound. Every part of him moved with yours in perfect harmony, every curve and bulge of his body finding a home against your own.

It’s like you’re warm bread and he’s the butter, spreading smoothly across you and melting into your every crease and crevice.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so long,” he panted out in between feverish kisses dotted along your neck, his teeth nipping at your racing pulse.

“Really?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his hands gliding over the length of your body. “I dreamed about touching you…how you’d sound…what you’d taste like…”

“Jesus Christ.”

You had never felt like this before, your very being thrumming with energy and ready to go off like a firecracker as soon as someone lit your match. You could have chalked it up to the weed, or to the beer, or to the fact that you hadn’t been touched like this in so long—and even when you had been touched, it was nothing like this.

But ultimately you knew…the real reason was him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asked, his pink lips curled up in a catlike smile as he rolled his hips forward, pressing them against you in a filthy grind that had your back arching off the bed.

“Shit,” you gasped, breathless, “S-so good, Eddie—fuck.”

The way he was moving against you had your mind emptying rapidly. It was all you could do not to wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze him close to increase that sinful sweet pressure he was putting on your core. But Eddie was quick to give you more, pushing up on his hands so his hips married with yours and he could look down at the mess he was making of you.

“Eddie, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, voice all high and desperate. “I need it, please.”

His original offer had officially flown out of your head. All you could think about right now was him being fully seated inside of you, his cock stroking your walls, his thrusts reaching deep. He’d gotten you so wet just from kissing, him going down on you now was practically redundant.

“You want my cock already, huh?” he teased you lowly, leaning in close again, the tip of his nose touching yours. “Too bad.”

His gentle mocking tone and the way he purred so softly made every atom in your body tremble. You stared up at him with your hips squirming trying to chase the friction you so desperately needed as he started to shuffle further down the bed, making you whimper at the loss.

“What’s wrong?” he chuckled at your pitiful little sound. “You think I’m being mean?”

You nodded back at him and his giant eyes glinted in the dark, his handsome face full of mirth and mischief as his chest rumbled with a laugh. The sound of it rippled down your spine, making it go instantly rigid and then slackening like the crack of a whip. Oh, you were in trouble…

“Well, I am mean. And selfish too,” he gritted out, his fingers kneading at your waist, bunching the material of your t-shirt in his fists to pull it taught across your chest. “Because I’m gonna kiss this pussy all I want…all night long, if I feel like it.”

With his words dripping thick and sweet from his lips, he shifted even further down on the bed with a practiced swivel of his hips. He kissed his way down your body, pushing up the hem of your shirt to reveal the bare expanse of your stomach and hips, groaning again as he caught a glimpse of the underside of your breasts.

“I’ve…been waiting…way too long…to taste you…”

His voice slipped back into that lower register as he placed a line of delicate kisses to your navel in between his words. His head dropped lower, lower, lower until he met the apex of your spread thighs. A soft moan escaped your lips as he laved his tongue over your clothed slit, licking through the thin barrier until his spit had soaked through the cotton to mix with your arousal.

“Take them off,” you gasped, raising your hips to help him.

If he had decided to tear them, to rip them right from your body, you wouldn’t have minded in the slightest. But he curled his fingers around the elastic and dragged them down your legs, settling back on his calves to tug them off, the blunt edges of his fingernails raking lightly over your skin all the way to your ankles. It made gooseflesh bloom across every inch of you, all the way to your scalp as you pushed your head back into the pillow, so overwhelmed by the feeling.

He works infuriatingly slow. Teasing you, toying with you like it’s a big game. He kissed softly along your seam, nuzzling his face against your inner thighs, skimming his lips over your folds that are doused with your slick, not even bringing his tongue into play yet. It makes your clit just ache for him, the little bundle of nerves yearning for the attention he just won't give it.

Not yet.

Finally, finally, he placed one long kiss on your sensitive bead, popping off far too soon for your liking to murmur softly to you in the dark.

“Can’t believe you had to beg that loser to do this…I’d beg you just to let me do it…”

“Then do it, Eddie,” you groaned, bunching the sheets in your fists. “Please, please, just do it—”

You’re almost crying now you want him so badly, the anticipation making your chest tighten and your lungs constrict. All the amusement drains from Eddie’s face as he looks at you, doe eyes shining like they held every star in the galaxy as he studied your pained expression.

“Relax for me, baby,” Eddie soothed in a steady whisper, his palm rubbing across your stomach. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I promise.”

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you nodded back at him and then closed your eyes to take the deepest breath you could manage. He watched you silently, studying the way your chest rose as you inhaled, and the way you held the breath in for a five count before you released.

And just as your breath crested, just as you felt the relief of the oxygen flowing throug your body, he fixed his lips around your clit and sucked.

The noise that he dragged out of you didn’t even sound human. It was shock, it was calm, it was joy, it was confusion, it was elation, it was rage.

It was as though every emotion you’d ever felt in your whole life was thrown into a blender and that sound was the end result.

Your hips jumped, bucking into his face, but Eddie never faltered. He kept his hold on you, arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep them spread open so he could continue to devour you. He didn’t just go down on you, his mouth and tongue and chin and nose moved together in any and every possible direction until you yourself had forgotten which way was up.

It made you doubt your very existence. No way was this real. No way could anything feel this fucking good. And yet at the same time, it was too real. The tickle of his hair on your inner thigh, his hot breath fanning over your most private skin, the noises he made muffled by your pussy lips. Every visceral detail swirled together, rushing you headlong towards oblivion.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Eddie said hoarsely. “Come on my tongue for me, beautiful. I gotta have it.”

He pulled his lips from you, his fingers plunging easily inside your gushing center, crooking up to rub that spot you only ever dreamed of someone reaching. As you clenched around his digits and he could feel how close you were, his tongue returned to your folds in long and languid swipes that ended in fluttering flicks and swirls.

He does everything so carefully, so thoroughly, that the brink he brings you to feels more earned than anything you’ve ever felt. Stars burst behind your rolled back eyes, tears squeezing out at the corners and spilling down your cheeks.

Your mouth fell open as you moaned in earnest abandon, chanting out his name in praise in between heaving breaths to gulp down air.

The aftershock seems to last longer than the orgasm itself, your legs twitching under Eddie’s firm grasp long after the explosive feeling had receded. He slid up to lay next to you, cradling you gently in his arms, out of breath himself as he watched you return to earth, his nose and mouth and chin all glistening with your spend.

“You okay?” he asked, hopeful and earnest, his cocky bravado long since dissolved.

“So good,” you gasped. “It was incredible, Eddie. Holy shit…”

His chest shook with a low laugh at your dazed expression. Your eyelids drooped, exhaustion trying to overtake you, but you forced it back. Suddenly filled with the urge to make him feel as good as you did, you let your hand drift toward his boxers, making his whole body shudder as your hand grazed across a damp spot there.

Wait…was that? No, not a chance. No way did he come just from eating you out.

“Easy, killer,” Eddie chuckled, reaching down for your wandering hand and lacing his fingers with yours to gently tug it back up and kiss it. “What do you want in there, huh?”

“Eddie, please,” you pouted up at him as your eyes fought to stay open. “I want more, I want to make you come too.”

“We will,” he assured you, his fingertips gently trailing across your forehead, down your temple, along your jaw. “Just close your eyes for a minute. Then we’ll do anything you want.”

The sigh you let out was a little huffy, but you couldn’t deny how appealing it sounded to rest your eyes—just for a minute. They start to flutter shut and the last thing you felt was Eddie’s warm breath on your ear as he leaned close to whisper,

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Sunlight came streaming through your blinds far too soon for your liking. Its warm rays splashed across your face as it rose in the sky and you withdrew reluctantly from your sleep.

A deep, blissful, fucked-out sleep like you hadn’t had in years.

Everything came into focus slowly as you woke.  The hum of the fan overhead pushing cool air down, the distant chirp of birds from the tree outside your window…the subtle weight of Eddie’s arm slung across your torso.

He was still asleep next to you, snoring softly with his face smashed into the lilacs printed on your pillowcase. You couldn’t be sure if he had fallen asleep holding you or if he reached for you at some point during the night and never let go.

Either option was equally enthralling.

His hair had come loose from his bun, curls now big and frizzy around his face like a lion’s mane. And even in sleep, there was a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. Contentedness, like he was in the middle of a really good dream. You even let yourself believe you saw the slight curve of a smile on his plush lips, one you were sure matched your own.

You reached out a hand and gently touched the fringe obscuring his large forehead, brushing them back to reveal the thickness of his eyebrows and the dusting of freckles along his nose and cheeks. Fuck him, if he wasn’t even prettier.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb his slumber, you rolled over onto your side and reached for your phone on the nightstand, looking for the time and instead finding a text from Argyle.

hope u enjoyed ur special delivery ;)

Thank you for reading. love you, mean it! 🍕

This has been gathering dust in my drafts for a minute now.

Been feeling the lack of inspiration/motivation to write lately real hard, so it was nice to go back to something that I really enjoyed writing and had a lot of fun with.

[evie-sturns]

21 - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you recieve a unusual call from chris, you realise he’s got blackout drunk on his 21st birthday. you’re forced to go pick him up and take care of him in his interesting state..

contains: fluff, mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!chris, mentions of throwing up (no detail whatsoever), a lot of chaos

————————————🔸————————————

11:36pm

i yawn as i shuffle around in bed, my warm covers wrapped around me as i scroll through instagram,

suddenly my phone starts to ring,

‘incoming call from ‘chrizzzzyy’

i pick up the phone, pressing it to my ear as chris instantly starts,

“you know you’re so beautiful, like soo gorgeous.” he mumbles into the phone, his words slurred.

there’s faint chatter in the background, along with heavy music.

“chris? you okay?” i ask, my eyebrows knitting together with confusion.

“i need you- like how a baby bird needs its mama” he groans, followed by a loud laugh.

i giggle, “chris what is wrong with you!”

the realisation hits.

chris turned 21 today, i couldn’t make it to his party due to work, but for fucks sake, this kid is drunk.

“oh my god- chris you got drunk? i thought you said you wouldn’t!” i say frantically,

“uh factually i am not drunk- i think you’ll find.” he fumbles over his words,

“can you come.” he follows up.

i scoff, “christopher- it is midnight, where are you?”

he pauses for a moment, before i hear him chatter to someone else,

“yo- where am i, my girl wants to know” he mumbles to a friend i assume,

he shortly gets back to me “i’m at home, but i want to be at your home.”

i nod with a small huff, “god, i’ll come get you now, just wait on the curb and don’t go on the road whatever you do.”

he almost giggles, “you sound like my mommy.”

i groan before hanging up,

i heave myself out of bed, knowing i’m about to have to collect my best friend in his state.

i grab my keys and fix my hair before walking downstairs, creaking open the door.

the cold night hair hits me hard, i shiver as i jog up to my car, swinging open the car door.

i instantly speed off down the street.

-

10 minutes later i arrive at his street, the pebbles crunch under my tires as i slowly drive to his house.

chris shoots up from his sat position on the side walk, giving me a huge grin.

i pull up beside him, reaching over and opening the door.

“hey baby.” he grins, flopping down in the passenger seat,

“chris.” i warn, reaching over and buckling him in.

“how much have you had to drink?” i ask, looking over at him.

he hesitates before shrugging, “shit- ‘prolly like 20 or something.”

i pause, “20 of what.”

he shrugs again, “couldn’t tell ya sweet cheeks.”

i throw my head back, with a small laugh.

“come- come sit on my lap” he grins, his eyes half shut, patting his lap.

“chris! i am not your girlfriend.” i remind him, his face drops

“you’re- you’re breaking up with me!?” he raises his voice

“we were never dating” i point out, his eyes water.

“are you seriously gonna cry?” i laugh,

he nods with a small pout, “my girl, my one and only is dumping me-“

i lean over the centre console and give him a hug,

i hold back laughs as i pull out my phone, putting it on 0.5x and holding it up.

“tell me what’s wrong chris.” i grin,

“you- you’re breaking up with me!” his words are slurred as he throws a mini tantrum.

“you’re my babe, my hot little babe.” he sighs,

“oh my god chris”. i laugh, putting my phone down and starting the car,

i roll down the windows for him as i attempt to explain that fact that i am NOT his girlfriend, and never had been.

he sits up on his knees and attempts to make a break for it out the window, he sticks his arms and head out the window.

i reach over and grab his shirt, pulling him back in before rolling up the window

“chris! no!”

he mumbles something vaguely before looking over at me,

“we hooking up tonight right?” he blurts out so causally.

“shit i bet you could give me the best-“ he starts but i clamp a hand over his mouth.

“chris.. anything you say tonight you will regret.” i warn him with a smile.

“but- but you’re so pretty!” he protests,

i pull into my driveway, hopping out the car before walking over to chris’s side.

i open the door and he jumps out, stumbling over onto the grass.

“oh no chris.” i sigh, grabbing his underarms and picking him up.

he wraps his legs around my lower back and burys his head into my shoulder.

i carry him up the driveway with small huffs,

i fiddle with my keys before unlocking the door, chris is practically a koala bear, clinging to me as i heave us upstairs.

i finally enter my room before dropping him on the bed.

i switch on the light and take a good look at him,

“like what you seee.” he grins with a stupid lip bite,

he looks white as a sheet, my eyes widen as i grab his hand.

i run him into the bathroom.

“i’m gonna throw up.” he mumbles,

“oh god oh god.” i whine, helping him into the shower.

i stand outside the shower as i frantically try to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of him.

i unbuckle his belt and tug it off, discarding it out the bathroom floor.

i unbutton his shorts for him, guiding them down his legs, leaving him in his boxers.

“look- you get your boxers off and just try not to throw up for another minute.”

he giggles as he tugs his boxers down, i slide the shower curtain across and take a deep breath as i sit on the toilet lid.

he reaches a hand out of the shower curtain, holding his boxers.

“just drop them i’m not touching that.” i groan,

he drops them in the pile of clothes before i hear a small-

“oh shit.”

i reach into the shower and turn it on cold, trying to drown out the sounds of chris..

i hear some deep breaths from behind the curtain,

“y/n!!!! i threw up!!!” he calls out,

“that’s okay! just get clean in the shower for me!” i tell him,

he sounds panicked, “hey, the alcohol is better out then in sweetie.” i tell him,

he laughs in response, “you’re righhhtt!”

i scoff, waiting for him to finish up,

my eyes widen as chris goes silent, “chris! you better not be peeing in my shower i swear to god-“ i start but he cuts me off with a loud giggle.

i throw my head into my hands,

“oopsie daisy’s.” he doesn’t stop laughing.

-

after 45 minutes of chris yapping my ear off, i finally got him changed and in my bed.

“and then guess what he said, he said that he was gonna fight me if i didn’t give him my drink, like just admit you’re a alcoholic!” he rambles on about his night.

“lay down for me.” i tell him as he sits on my matress.

he flops down on my mattress, his head hitting the pillow.

i lean over the bed and tug up the covers over him.

i move his hair off his forehead with my hand then place a kiss to his forehead.

he yawns loudly before whining,

“where are you going!”

i scoff, “i’m gonna sleep on the couch chris.”

he huffs, “but we sleep together all the time!”

i roll my eyes, “that’s when there’s no risk of you throwing up on me”

he kicks his legs, “i promise i won’t!”

i hesitate before giving in, jumping into bed beside him.

he smiles stupidly before wrapping his arms around me, tugging me into his side.

i usually wouldn’t let him cuddling me slide, but i guess he’s not gonna remember it tomorrow.

-

10:23am

i stir awake, chris’s arms still wrapped right around my waist.

he groans, waking up aswell.

“why am i cuddling you” he laughs tiredly,

“do you remember anything that happened last night?” i ask, sitting up in bed.

“not really.” he smiles, rubbing his eyes.

i reach over him and grab my phone, opening up the camera roll.

“you had a long love confession to me.” i giggle, his face drops.

“what?” he asks panicked, i give him my phone

he presses play, letting the video play outloud.

“you’re breaking up with me!? you’re my babe, my hot little babe”

-

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