#like what do you mean pretty girl is kissing you back??? brain…short-circuit now????

[crashingmeteorz]

podlock john watson w/ his cringe fail personality bein poor as shit but spending all his money on little treats, defending his chubby poorly-behaved dog, getting distracted staring at pretty women, being completely obsessed w/ sherlock holmes…he’s just like me fr

[totallynotashieldagent]

Kinktober 2024 - Thigh Riding

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Jason wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen you look at him whenever he came home and changed into his normal clothes. He saw the way you looked at him, biting your lip, eyeing him up and down when he was in his fitted gear– 

Today, however, you were just sitting on his lap- well, on his thigh. Leaning back, as the movie played. A dumb action movie, all special effects, and barely any plot. Perfect for a lazy night. Him in his sweatpants and a vest. You in your oversized, got at a thrift-store nightshirt and cotton panties- And it was, honest to god it was a lazy night until he shifted a little and leaned over to grab a beer and you moved ever to slightly and your brain short-circuited perfectly. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it. Of course, you had. There was a whole subreddit dedicated to Jason’s fucking thighs as the Hood. You hated how everyone salivated at your boyfriend but god how you loved all the pictures people posted on there. 

Would be a lie if you said you didn’t get yourself off to it. There was one where he-

“Baby, what are you doing?” His voice was hot against your neck.

“Nothing-” You said, pretending you were watching the movie, as if you hadn't completely tuned out everything apart from just the feeling of him. As if you weren’t slowly grinding down on his thigh. As if there wasn’t going to be a wet patch on his sweatpants soon enough.

“Don’t feel like nothing, sweetheart.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his hands squeezing at your hips ever so gently. You didn’t answer, simply leaning forward to have more control on your movements, bracing your hands on his knee as you continued to grind again. But this time you weren’t hiding it anymore. 

“Sweetheart-” Jason exhaled a soft laugh that twisted into a groan, his hands clenching and unclenching at your hips, starting to guide you better. “You wanna-”

“Yes.” You swallowed before he could even ask properly. “ Yes- ” You whimpered again, “Please-” You bit your lip, eyes so focused on the screen that everything was turning into a blur. 

His thigh was so solid and muscular and felt so good but-

“Baby-” He rasped, his voice clearly showing that this was affecting him too. “Let me-” He mumbled against your neck between wet kisses. Lifting you up and pushing his sweat pants down just enough so now your clothed cunt was rubbing against his skin. 

“Jay-” You mewled and your eyes finally screwed shut.

“ Shhh- Let it feel good, sweetheart.” Jason hand was wrapped around his own aching cock as his other hand guided you move better against him. “You wanna make a mess of my thigh, don’t you?” You mumbled a yes, please- need- “A little louder, honey.” He bit your shoulder gently. Not enough to cause any pain or leave marks, just enough to get your attention. 

“Mh- Yes!” You whined, grinding yourself harder against his muscle. 

“ Good girl- Such a pretty thing-” He whispered, pumping himself, his hand under your nigthshirt, squeezing the flesh, kneading his just enough to be bruising but not painful as he moved you. 

“I- Jay- I need-” Words were slowly losing meaning. 

“What?” He licked the side of your neck, making you tilt your neck to the side with soft whimpering moans of more, please, keep going- “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” His voice is so gentle that anyone would miss the command in it. 

“Move- Move me- I can’t-” It was getting harder to keep the momentum. The friction was starting to get just perfect and your body would twitch away when it got too much. You wanted to concentrate more. 

Jason didn’t need to be told more. His hands moved skillfully, moving the cotton of the underwear to the side, holding it taut as he held you down, grinding you harder and slowly against his thigh. You moaned and nodded, eyes closed, breath broken and nails digging into his knee because it suddenly felt that good . 

He whispered praises, the wetness on his thigh growing as he moved you. That’s my good girl. So close, aren’t you? Are you going to make a mess? Yes- So close, my good girl-  

The filthy praise always got you good. You shuddered broken gasps of breath. You were pretty sure your nails were digging hard enough to draw blood but at this point, you really didn’t care. You were just so, so , close and-

“Baby, won’t you cum for me?” He whispered against your neck, leaving wet open-mouth kisses and that finally- finally did you in. 

Jason kept grinding you down on his thigh, his movements hard and deliberate as you whined and moaned his name like a desperate prayer. Your back arched as you came, your thighs clenching to ride it out and he kept moving you until you fell back against his chest. 

“There you go, sweetheart.” He mused, his palms rubbing softly at your thighs. 

“‘S’good-” You exhaled a laugh, your eyes glassy as you looked over at him. 

Wide smirk on his face, his cock still aching next to you, precum dripping just from seeing you come undone and his thigh soaked from your cum. 

“How about round two?” He turned your face to kiss you properly. 

Kinktober 2024.

[facioleeknow]

The art of pleasure: second dates ° Ch 1

Best friend privileges ° Bang Chan

After 8 very successful lessons it is time to go on those second dates the boys were so eager to go on.

Spin off of my series "The art of pleasure"

WC: 1028 Genre: Smut 18+ ONLY, Frat boy AU, College AU

TW: smut, unprotected sex, cream pie, slight manhandling, slight breeding kink, daddy kink, let me know if i missed anything

Chris pressed sweet feather-like kisses all over your collarbones;his breath tickled your skin as he giggled at your tiny whimpers. You should’ve known it would end like this when Chan had texted you ‘wanna come over tonight eheh?’. When you had stepped foot into his room a scene straight out of a romantic movie greeted you, candles and petals were scattered everywhere around the small bedroom. 

“Damn, Christopher you really went all out, uh?” even if your tone was mocking, your heart skipped a beat at the effort he put in.Romantic gestures weren’t normal for Chan, he was the most infamous fuck boy in your whole university after all.

“Anything for you, baby,” he giggled like a child. After that you had settled down to watch a movie, but you knew your friend had other plans in mind. Ever since you had come into his room, he had a fiery look into his eyes; something you had only heard people talk about on campus. Experiencing it though, was another story, you felt intimidated and desired, you wanted to kneel before him and do everything he asked you to, you wanted him to use you until you couldn't think straight. 

Not even five minutes later Chris's lips were on yours and the movie was long forgotten.

His kisses were short and light, and not nearly passionate enough. You felt like you were on fire, both your skin, your pussy, and your brain was short circuiting. You understood why those girls were all begging to sleep with him for just another night.

With your pussy throbbing, your panties soaked through and your head empty, you couldn't help what came out of your mouth.

“Daddy, please, I want more,” you whined. The words hung heavy in the air.

“Channie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-”

Chris pressed your lips together, your apology lost. His hand made his way down your body until he was cupping your heat.

“It's okay baby, I will take care of you. Are my hands enough for you?” His lips still worked on your neck but this time they were sucking a little more harshly, his teeth grazed your skin every now and then.

“No no no no,” you cried out, you wanted to feel him, really feel him. His hands weren't going to cut it.

“Shh, it's okay baby, how about this, huh?” At that, Chan pressed his clothed bulge between your legs and gently rocked his hips up and down, up and down. You could feel the heat radiating off him, pearls of sweat appeared on your forehead. His light silver chain brushed against your hot skin at every roll of his hips, making you gasp at the temperature difference.

“Please, daddy fuck me, I want you, I need you.” A tear fell from the corner of your eye, down the side of your face. Chan cooed and wiped the moisture away.

“I can't resist you when you make that sweet face.” He laid back on his hunches and hurriedly took off your pants and underwear just to do the same for him. When you opened your legs wide for him like a good girl, he sucked in a breath.

“God baby, pussy so pretty just like I remembered.” Chan positioned himself between your legs, his warm hands gripped your thighs and pushed them upwards so they were almost touching your torso.

“Keep them like this, mh baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” Your pussy dripped at how roughly his hands gripped your skin and downright fluttered when, after releasing your legs he pinned your wrist to the bed, above your head. He leaned down after that and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as a thank you for letting him handle you as he wished.

“How do you want it, baby?” His lips tickled yours and you felt like you were going to explode; you wanted him inside and you wanted his lips on yours. Immediately.

“Pound me, Channie, please.” A small pinch to your wrists made you mewl.

“That's not how you call me baby.”

“I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please,” you bubbled incoherently. Streams of words kept escaping your mouth until Chan swiftly pushed all of his length into you, with no warning. A strangled scream resounded in the room, mixed with a low moan from Chan. 

Your best friend wasted no time in fulfilling your wish and started roughly thrusting into you. Your body moved around like a ragdoll, your legs stayed in place and your ankles wrapped around Chan's torso to keep him in place. You never wanted him to stop, the drag of his cock against your walls and of his pelvis on your clit made you see stars. The headboard of his bed smashed against the wall at every thrust, the frame creaked at the movement. You almost pitied the poor guy that roomed next to him, almost. 

Chan started panting and groaning down your neck, the sounds getting more and more strangled with each thrust of his hips. 

“I'm sorry, baby, but you're too warm and soft, I'm gonna cum, I can't hold it,” his voice was shaky and raspy, it was making your pussy tighten and drip down his shaft.

“I don't want you to, Daddy, I want you to cum inside me.” 

“God baby, you're gonna drive me crazy if you say those things,” Chan's hips picked up an even faster and more brutal pace, you swear you could feel him in your stomach. Every sharp hit made your poor neglected clit throb, you wanted him to touch it, you wanted to cum so hard around him he wouldn't be able to pull out, but most importantly you want to feel his hot cum inside you and see it drip out of you.

Like he had heard your thoughts, a second after you felt a hot liquid fill your womb.

Chan stopped his movements and collapsed on top of you.

“Give me 10 minutes baby, then I'm all yours again,” he mumbled against your neck, “you better be ready, I'll make your little pussy cum so many times you'll beg me to stop.”

@kflixnet

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

requested by @lilacletter 18+

“It’s alright, honey, yeah?” Steve’s voice was the sweetest sound, soft and reassuring. “You can do it, just wanna watch so I know how to make you feel good.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth, Steve had made you feel good plenty of times before. In fact, you’d even go as far to call him an expert in the field. But he’d somehow gotten you on your back in his bed, your dress hiked up around your hips and the tiny buttons down your front undone. You looked indecent, tits spilling out over the cups of your bra, your hand pressed between your thighs and your underwear on Steve’s floor.

The boy was fully dressed, lounging on his side across the bottom of the mattress, one hand palming the tent in the front of his sweatpants, the other curled around your ankle, playing with the frilly edge of your sock. He didn’t pull at you, but the way his thumb was rubbing circles into your ankle was helping you relax. Your knees fell apart.

“Oh,” Steve made a show of falling slack, eyes rolling to the ceiling before he leant in on his stomach, fingertips trailing down the inside of your thigh and touching all the skin you’d exposed for him. “There she is, look at you, baby. You gonna let me see? Spread yourself wider for me, yeah?”

Embarrassment flushed through you at his words, a white hot burn that made you whine and Steve knew as well as you did that you were getting off on this - even if you wouldn’t admit it. So you let your socked feet slide over his sheets a little more, thighs parting so Steve could see the way your fingers were pressed to your clit, everything shiny from the way Steve’s words affected you.

You watched Steve bite his bottom lip and groan, rolling his own hips into the mattress. “Oh, fuck, good girl. Gonna keep going? Show me how you touch yourself when I’m not here.”

You made another soft sound, a gasping, breathy thing and you scrunched your face, wondering how much Steve could see in the dim light that came from his desk lap. You tried to close your legs again, not really meaning it, not really wanting to. You just wanted to be bossed around.

Steve knew that.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, holding onto your ankle properly now. He kept one leg spread out, obscenely wide and he grinned when your two fingers slipped messily over your clit, like you couldn’t help yourself. “You need me to tell you what to do, honey? Need some help?”

His voice was like an electrical current, warming you, making your skin fizz, short circuiting your fucking brain. You felt fuzzy, dazed when you nodded, doe eyed and acting shy for him. It made Steve wanna eat you alive. But he cooed at you instead and pushed at your knee, smiling when it fell to the bed. He could see everything, he could see all of you.

Swollen, needy, slick and glistening.

“You’ve got the prettiest, little pussy, you know that, baby?” Steve murmured, his eyes trained between your thighs, smirking when you made a breathy sound, the moan getting caught in your throat. You swore, three fingers sliding through your folds and spreading them. Your hips twitched. “Yeah? She likes that, huh? Likes getting told she’s pretty, just like you, hm?”

Steve leaned in, pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee and rested his head there, gazing down at you. His cock was pressed against his sweats, yelling for attention. Not yet though, no. No, he’d slide into you after he had you crying, after he’d gotten you so worked up you were fucking yourself on your own fingers and chanting his name.

“Go on then,” he coaxed. “Show me. Show me how good you can make yourself feel.” Steve swore when you circled two fingers around your clit, fast and slipping messily. He nipped at your thigh, mean. “Ah, slow down, what’s the rush? Wanna see how wet you can get, hm?”

You whined but obeyed, neck and chest burning with the heat of Steve’s heavy gaze and he was leaning in closer now, kissing your knee again. You lifted your hips, desperate, hoping and wishing and praying he’d taken pity and out his mouth on you.

No such luck.

Instead he pouted, mock sympathy because his eyes were sparkling. “Go on, honey, show me how deep you can get those little fingers.”

[ash5monster01]

Goes On Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.8k

Ten ←→ Twelve

Masterlist

Ridge Academy, NY

2/20/60

When Evelyn wakes up the next morning the smile on her face is still wide. She had never really known what this feeling would be like. That feeling you get when you like someone and they just so happen to like you back. It made you feel brand new, refreshed, hopeful. Which may explain why getting up so early on a Saturday hadn’t bothered her like it normally would. Instead she turns off her alarm on the first ring and makes her way to the showers with that beaming grin.

It’s not long until she’s dressed in a simple floral dress, thankful they weren’t required school uniforms on the weekend. When she adds a little more makeup than normal she excuses it as feeling experimental but honestly she just wanted Charlie to look at her with those eyes that he always does. The eyes that make her squirm in her seat while she feels every nerve ending go off in her body. In fact she’s glad him finally kissing her last night didn’t entirely short circuit her brain.

“You’re forgetting something” Violet grins behind her in the reflection of the mirror and Evelyn furrows her eyebrows as she looks back at her.

“What?” she questions, eyebrows pulled together tightly. She inspects her face quickly, worried she had messed something up or missed and Violet just laughs.

“If you’re gonna put all that effort into your makeup you might as well cover up that neck” Violet says, hand reaching to tip her neck up and reveal the dark red mark right above her throat. Evelyn gasps in an instant, eyes now trained on the spot that is very visibly now that she’s paying attention. Her stomach drops at the idea of other students seeing it as they roam the halls today.

“Shit” she mutters, hands fumbling through the makeup on her desk in search of anything that could possibly cover it up. Violet quickly sets a hand on her own, stopping the girl from stressing too much.

“Calm down and let me help” Violet tells her, grabbing her own chair and pulling it next to hers. Evelyn tries to calm as the girl gets to work, hands grabbing the makeup and focusing her attention to the mark.

“How do you know what to do?” Evelyn asks after a beat, her heart rate now at a normal and soft thump. Violet just giggles at the question as she glances up from her neck and into her eyes.

“When Marty and I first got together he would always leave marks on accident, I got pretty good at covering them up and now I just make sure he leaves them where others can’t see” she says, suggestion in her tone and eyebrows raised which makes Evelyn laugh loudly at the notion.

“It was my first real kiss” Evelyn whispers, recalling the two other times she had barely pecked a boy and felt nothing but regret in her stomach. Instead she kissed a boy hard and good and in return the butterflies hadn’t left her stomach yet.

“He’s good for you and I’m pretty sure you’re good for him too. Hell, he would barely talk to us when he started, and now I can’t get rid of the guy” Violet teases and Evelyn laughs again, admiring the black hair that cascades down her friends back as she works on fixing her neck up.

“I’m just so nervous, I don’t really know what this means for us. I wasn’t even really planning on kissing him but he just showed up at the door and I couldn’t help myself” Evelyn says, softly shaking her head and using the brunette curls falling forward to hide her face. Violet just smiles, leaning back as she checks over her work.

“It means he likes you, and you like him. Don’t let the pressure of others and their expectations ruin what you guys already got. Just cherish it and the rest will happen on its own” she tells her, recalling all the times people had judged her and Marty for getting together so young. At least they had stayed together the whole time, a testament that each of those people were wrong.

“And if he doesn’t want to date me?” Evelyn voices her worries and Violet just gives her a soft smile, knowing how long her best friend waited to feel this way about someone, to stop feeling broken because she couldn’t have crushes like other girls.

“He does, but if not he’s an idiot and I’ll kill him” Violet deadpans and Evelyn is laughing again, heart easing due to her best friends words and the she’s wrapping the raven haired girl into a hug.

“Thanks V” she tells her honestly and Violet hugs right back, enjoying the time alone they have together within this dorm. “Now, how does my neck look?” Evelyn asks pulling back and lifting her chin for Violet to investigate.

“As good as it’s gonna get” she tells her, knowing no makeup in the world was ever that successful at covering any mark left by a silly lovestruck boy. Evelyn turns to the mirror to find it much better than before but the shadow of it still there. Accepting her fate she stands and joins the girl.

“Let’s get breakfast then” she tells her and the girls are off in search of their friends and Saturday morning pancakes which was the only good reason for getting up so early on a Saturday around here. Plus Evelyn wanted to get a head start on planning the spring sport fundraisers before she had a meeting that more than likely only Charlie would show up too.

The closer the pair got to the dining hall the more nervous Evelyn became. She wasn’t used to being nervous like this but for the first time in her life she was going to face a boy she liked and not only liked but had kissed just last night. Her cheeks were already burning red just thinking about it and Violet just shook her head as the two walked through the lunch line and headed for their table that held all of their friends.

“Morning” Marty beamed as the two girls joined them. Evelyn felt her heart drop as she realized Charlie wasn’t there. Nate saw the disappointed look in her eyes and felt jealousy twist in his gut as she moved to sit beside him.

“Heard you got caught sneaking to Marty’s room last night” Laurie teases, eyes twinkling with amusement as she looks at Nate who had told them about how him and Charlie had spotted the girl.

“Better the boys than Mr. Holly” Violet said with a shrug, taking a bite of pancake and grinning around the fork.

“Seems like everyone had a bit of fun last night” Laurie grins, eyes landing on Evelyn. The thing about Laurie is she notices everything, observes everyone and everything around her. The evident disappointment, red cheeks, and half visible hickey on the girls neck were all immediately noticed by the blonde girl. Her awareness is what made her the queen of drama at Ridge.

“What?” Evelyn gapes, getting more nervous as everyone at the table begins to stare at her. Laurie just smiles, leaning against Marty to reach for the girl across the table, manicured nails turning her chin upwards and as the bruise is revealed to everyone Marty snorts, coughing around his food.

“Holy shit, Ev’s got a hickey” he says and the girl quickly shushes him, pulling away from the blonde girl who settles back into her seat across from her. Nate’s stomach drops, the sight of the small bruise pointing out Charlie did much more than kiss the girl. His girl even. Yet he had to save face, he had told himself he would get over this. He just didn’t think it would be this hard.

“Stop, it’s nothing. Especially since he couldn’t bother to show up this morning” Evelyn grumbles, eyes dropping to her plate so they can’t see her utter disappointment and Nate suddenly feels guilty. He wakes up Charlie every Saturday but today he didn’t because he was jealous.

“Evelyn I’m sure it’s not you” Violet starts but the group is cut off as the chestnut haired boy clambers into the seat beside the girl, hair a disarray and black t-shirt wrinkled against his skin. The very shirt he slept in and didn’t bother to change since he was in such a rush.

“Shit, what time is it?” He asks quickly, shoving his tray onto the table and the group laughs while Evelyn beams a bright smile at the boy beside her. As Charlie glances amongst the table he spots Evelyn’s soft smile and returns one back.

“It’s nine, there’s still a half hour of breakfast” she tells him and he smiles at how gorgeous she looks. He loved weekends when he could see the girl in her regular clothes. It gave him a better image of what life would be like with her outside of this school. That is if he got to keep her.

“Hi” he tells her, a little breathless and eyes shining into her own like they always did. The very look Evelyn had been hoping for as she got ready this morning. Then much to Evelyn and everyone else’s surprise Charlie leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before turning to his food.

“You forget to set your alarm?” Marty asks, laughing lightly at the boys disheveled appearance. Charlie sends him a glare before glancing over Evelyn’s head to look at Nate.

“Nate usually wakes me but I guess this morning he forgot” and with everyone’s eyes on him Nate not only feels guilty for giving Evelyn doubts about Charlie but guilty because he knows everyone at this very table knew he had done it on purpose.

“My bad man, I just forgot” he says and doesn’t even convince himself before turning back to his own plate of food that he had barely touched due to the fact his stomach was in knots all morning

“So, this is like officially a thing?” Laurie asked, pointing between both Charlie and Evelyn. Instead of responding Evelyn thinks about what Violet had said and looks to Charlie to see if there is any regret written on his face.

“I guess so” Charlie just tells her before flashing Evelyn a smile and continuing to eat his food. Evelyn can’t help the wide smile that crosses her face as she drops her head to look at her food. The rest of the table share knowing looks but this time no one offers Nate a remorseful smile because his own jealousy would be the thing to ruin his friendship with Evelyn, not telling her his feelings.

After finishing breakfast and being harassed for the hickey on Evelyn’s neck the group is quick to move on to the rest of their day. Retreating to study halls, clubs, sports, and group projects. Charlie promises Evelyn he’ll meet her soon for planning committee, needing a shower and change of clothes before he went about the rest of his day. That’s how he finds himself walking back to his dorm with Nate by his side.

“Look man, I know you’re upset but that was a dick move” Charlie tells him as he pushes through the dorm door and Nate drops his head.

“I know” he mutters, watching as Charlie collects his towel and a change of clothes so he can head to the showers. Nate had been too busy letting his emotions control him he nearly forgot he finally had a friend, the kind he always wanted.

“I know this whole thing isn’t ideal, I’d hate it if I were in your shoes too. You have to remember we’re friends though and you were the one who decided to let her go” Charlie tells him, tossing the towel over his shoulder. Nate groans, hating himself even more for deciding to let her go.

“I know man, I don’t know what to tell you though. It’s not like I just fell out of love with her over night okay. I need time to process and when things happen like you biting her neck I struggle” Nate tells him, sitting on his bed and running his hands through his hair. H hated that he never committed and he knew he was being a child but this was just how it was now.

“Nate, I’m not a fucking vampire. Also I obviously know that but if you love her you have to let her be happy and I like to think I make her happy. Plus she makes me really fucking happy, for the first time in months, even when I thought I never would be again. So please, be a friend” Charlie pleads and Nate is reminded of the truth that Charlie had shared with him not so long ago. A sentiment that he was just a guy trying to figure things out and his intentions weren’t to be mean.

“Okay” Nate agrees even though agreeing officially confirmed he would never leave the friend zone no matter how badly he wanted to. Charlie nods once he realizes Nate has agreed and then starts for the door.

“I’ll see you later” he tells him before going off and getting the shower he should’ve had this morning.

It’s not long until he’s finally refreshed and on his way to meet Evelyn. The excitement of seeing her alone has him nearly buzzing as he laps the hallways in search of the girl. Coming upon the study room used for planning committee he shoves through the door without a second thought. He watches as the girl looks up from her alphabetized and color coded planning binder and offers him a grin.

“Clean now, are you?” She teases and he rolls his eyes before moving to the chair beside her.

“Fresh as a daisy, want to smell?” He asks her, moving to nudge his face near her own and she giggles as his slightly damp hair brushes against her cheek.

“I trust you” she squeals, shoving him away and he grins, searching her features and taking all of her in now in the daylight.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night” he tells her and Evelyn blushes lightly, eyes glancing away under his stare and Charlie just smiles, hand reaching to tuck some hair behind her ear.

“We have to plan the fundraiser” she tells him, hands still gripping the binder that Charlie swears is her lifeline but he just chuckles and ducks in close, lips capturing her own. The hum of contentment that leaves her mouth tells him that she actually doesn’t mind one bit.

“We can plan later, I want to make up for all the time I haven’t been able to kiss you” he mutters against her lips and the words wrap around Evelyn’s heart and she wishes to tie it with a bow and keep them there forever.

“Such a sap” she mutters back before reaching to run her fingers through his damp hair. Charlie smiles against her lips, kissing her deeply due to the action. When his lips start to trail down to her neck again she’s too lost in his touch.

“For the first time I’m so glad no one ever shows up to meetings for my club” Evelyn says, a little breathless and lips swollen from him. Charlie laughs, hot breath fanning across her neck and Evelyn laughs from the ticklish feeling and pulls away.

“Hey, get back here” Charlie pouts, arms snaking around her waist and Evelyn shakes her head as he pulls her flush against him.

“No, no more hickeys. I don’t want to get caught again” she tells him and Charlie laughs, hugging her close and Evelyn hugs right back.

“Sorry, I just can’t get enough of you” he tells her and Evelyn smiles, pressing a soft kiss to his nose and admiring his chocolate eyes.

“Yeah, same” she tells him with a grin and Charlie kisses the corner of it, thankful to finally have her all to himself. Not hold back every time he wants to kiss her for being so damn adorable.

“In that case, do you want to join me on a date tonight?” He asks and Evelyn blushes, thinking of how she was never one of those girls who was able to go to the small cafe on campus and go on dates. The small restaurant a hot spot for Saturday night dates with the heart throb boys.

“I’d like that” she tells him and Charlie smiles and presses his lips to hers again.

“Good, then maybe after I’ll sneak into your room again”

Taglist: @octaviasdread @eden-punk @linmichea1 @pursuedbyamemoryy @mynameisjxlia

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[powderblueblood]

You know what's just burrowed into my head? given how often poor Camilla was forced to say the word daddy on that show it made me picture lacy saying it to Eddie but in that I'm clearly making fun of you, I'm not into that stuff kind of way but he's our beloved pervy loserboy so of course he short circuits over it anyway. I hope she finds out just how much of a perv he can be now that they've done the do. I mean the whole thing with her pen in the very first chapter? and the shower scene when she had to stay over? I would love to know how she'd react

18+ MINORS DNI i accidentally went crazy on this? god bless you anon happy valentines day

l i t erally she is shoving eddie out the door of the newspaper room after a heavy makeout session where she's got him all wound up and whining on purpose, sing-songing something like, "c'mon, hurry up! everyone in the drama room is gonna be looking around that dungeon, wondering where-oh-where is daddy?"

and eddie just shoves himself between the jamb and the closing door (painfully, for a multitude of reasons) (reasons pertaining to his cock) and hits lacy with the prey animal stare.

"huh? come again?" you'd like that wouldn't you badum tsss etc

but lacy like, knows and like, eats it right up, the way she draws out every syllable with a dirty little mockery of a snarl.

"better run along now, da-a-addy."

eddie manages to wrangle her in for one last kiss, stomach all butterflies and dick all cardiac arrest, "i'm gonna get you for that," and lacy's squealing into his ear, "and your little kitty too! shit! evil!"

"first and last time you'll ever hear it, i guarantee you!" liar!

but, evil actually comes in the form of lacy lifting a pair of her panties from the glovebox of the van later that night.

"hello? have you been doing my laundry or what?"

eddie gets a laceful in the face as she flings them at him. immediate snow white blush on his cheeks, this guy, because he's still toeing the line of being a little bit of a pervert with her. testing the waters. though, she had perched in his lap and watched him jerk off the other day, after specifically asking to which naturally made him cum neatly under the runtime of zeppelin's dazed and confused.

i wanna see how you do it. how do you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?

and she'd been all sweet, tits out and skirt on, running her hand up his chest as he pumped his cock in his fist (he hadn't been allowed to touch her), telling him how pretty he was, how much she liked watching him make himself feel good. eyes never leaving him. studying him like SAT prep. not putting as much as a fingertip on herself, but squirming against his thigh.

this is about me, he realized, heart warming, dick throbbing. she wants to make it about me.

eddie had cum, and had possibly narrowly avoided a hemorrhage of the brain due to how fucking hot that was, and was soon springing to back to life in lacy's palm. she had that effect on him; just when he thought he was spent, boom, he is risen.

he needed a solid fifteen minutes to process the aftershocks after she rode him til both their eyes were streaming, lacy stroking his hair and pretending like she wasn't trembling as much as he was.

if that girl isn't careful. he swears to god. wedding bells. big 'uns.

but. anyway. panties. panties he had been actively using as a gag when he jerked off on the rare occasions she couldn't come meet him. sure. whatever.

"you must've left 'em here!" eddie shrugs (wide-eyed, beautiful, you know the vibes), tossing them back at her, to which lacy rolled her fanned-out mascara'd eyes.

"and walked around commando? when have you ever known me to do that, smartass?"

true. she liked making him take off her panties with his teeth too much, and he liked watching the way she slid them back on. that little jump she did that made her ass shake.

which could be a part of the whole stuffing them in his mouth thing. listen, he didn't have time to ruminate on it.

guilty as all hell, he shrugs again, slapping his hands on the wheel. but eddie's heart is like, hammering. was that a step too far? nabbing her panties out of her room the last time he'd snuck in there?

there's this silence in the van for a couple beats that he hates, even though lacy resumes looking for a tape in the glovebox she's probably never gonna find.

"you know," she goes, eyes downcast, "if you wanted to borrow a pair, you could've just asked."

a stutter in the air. she knows just how to make his record scratch.

"whassat now?" eddie leans in, gripping the steering wheel for dear life.

"you heard me," and her mercurial eyes flash at him, gaze drawing down his body in that way that makes him sure he knows what it's like to do heroin without ever having tried it.

"just, tell me if you ever wanna try 'em on," lacy smiles, and eddie smiles, and eddie also dies somewhat, "i wanna see how cute you look when you're hard in them."

and look, we haven't even begun to think about lacy's reaction the first time he jokingly calls her mommy.

[ravennaortiz]

Okay now I've got Creeper on my mind. He's definitely getting another request but this time let's go with the aftermath of the boyfriend's a bitch hc.

Prompts:

21. Like what you see?

25. Don't act shy now

17. I love you.

32. Your mine.

31. Jealous?

30. I need you.

24. No panties?

33. Are you blushing?

Oh this is going to be so fun! Catch the headcanon that this came from here! As always my stories are 18+. Smut below the cut!

Lessons

Creeper is silent as he watches you and the guy go back and forth. You have just as much blood on your hands as he does, he knows you can handle yourself. He won't hesitate to step in though if you want him too. He patiently waits for your cue as he sips his beer, chuckling when the guy says he can do you better and asks what position you like. "Do you like having your ass fucked?" you inquire as you tap Creepers arm. "As her bitch of a boyfriend I like to watch her fuck guys in the ass" he states as he looks the guy up and down.

"What do you not like what you see? I mean look at us man." demanded Creeper as he gestured between the two of you. The guy stares open mouthed, his brain obviously short circuiting. "You are the one who asked what my favorite position was. So don't act shy with us now" you remind him with a shrug and a laugh. "It just happens to be getting balls deep in other guys while my man watches before he takes his turn".

Without another word the man hurries off into the crowd as you and Creeper burst into a fit of laughter. "I love you so much" you stated as you moved onto his lap to kiss him. "I love you more" murmured Creeper into your neck as he nipped at the tender flesh where neck met jaw making you moan. Feeling slightly bratty you decided to tease your man a bit. "I'm a little sad he didn't take us up on our offer though. I wonder if one of the guys would join us....maybe Angel?" you pouted as you leaned back some enjoying the dark flash in Creepers eyes and the dig of his fingers into your flesh.

"Your mine Princesa" growled Creeper as he moved a hand to your jaw squeezing slightly until you nodded. Once he had moved his hands back to your waist you moved your lips to his neck making him groan. "Is someone jealous of Angel?" you whispered as you traced his ear with your tongue gently. "Stop playing Princesa or else you will get a lesson" grumbled Creeper as he tightened his grip on your waist again. You smirked as you nibbled at his neck your hands running down his chest to his belt buckle.

"I think I'm going to need you to teach me a lesson Daddy. I've been a naughty girl not keeping up on my studies" you whined as you undid his belt and shoved your hand in his pants making his breath catch. "I'm glad you have no panties on under this skirt cause daddy is going to fill this pretty pussy right here in the clubhouse" growled Creeper as he moved his fingers quickly into you without warning. You let out a high pitched whine moan that drew the attention of a couple of the guys. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you tried to move Creepers hands feeling self conscious. Creeper chuckled as he moved himself out of his jeans. "Are you getting shy and blushing? Thought you were a big girl?" teased Creeper before lifting you up and sliding you down him.

Want more Creeper? Click here

Want to make your own request? Click here

[backtraf]

This one is a longer one. And it gets a little bit spicy.

Tim looked at Kelvin working away. His hoodie was off, and Tim swallowed thickly as he watched Kelvin swing the axe, watching his muscles flex. He blinked and shook his head, turning back to try and focus back on what he had been working on, but his mind kept drifting to Kelvin.

Licking his lips, he tried desperately to stop, but his mind kept showing him images of Kelvin laying on the bed, spread...

His mind came to a screeching halt when Kelvin stepped into his field of view, looking at him with concern. Tim's face turned bright red, and he cleared his throat. He was never going to get that courage. Kelvin had been seeing a girl back home, and he was probably desperate to get back to her. Here he was, fantasizing about fucking his best friend.

Kelvin signed, "Are you okay? It's pretty hot out, do you need water?"

Tim shook his head and replied, "I think I'm going to take a break. You should do the same."

Kelvin gave him a lopsided smile and nodded before going to rest by the forest pit, laying down in the grass. Tim sighed and watched him for a moment before running a hand through his hair. He couldn't keep this up.

A week passed, and Kelvin came up to him, a bit timid in his approach. Tim looked up from chopping wood and looked him over.

"Something wrong?" Tim asked.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Tim frowned at the question. "No, why would you ask that?"

"You..." Kelvin stopped for a moment, shifting on his feet. "You don't touch my hands anymore."

Tim blinked, his mouth falling open in surprise. He wasn't sure how to respond. "I don't know, didn't seem like I should. It looked like it made you uncomfortable."

He wasn't sure if that was true. Kelvin never told him to stop and didn't seem outwardly upset by it.

That answer didn't seem to be the right one as Kelvin dropped his shoulders, and he signed "okay" before walking away.

It was a few weeks later when Kelvin finally kissed him. Something short circuited in Tim's brain and he wished he could hold onto Kelvin forever. But of course, the insecurities crept back in.

Kelvin probably just did it to satisfy him. He didn't mean anything by it. What about that girl back home?

Once, Kelvin grabbed his arm as he was walking in the door to the cabin and shoved him against the wall before pressing his body close and nipping at his lower lip. Tim gasped at the suddenness but made no move, unsure of the situation. Kelvin pressed his lips against his, and only then did Tim respond, pulling Kelvin closer to deepen the kiss.

The kiss didn't last nearly long enough, and before he knew it, Kelvin was pulling away with a smirk and a quick gland down at the prominent tent in Tim's pants. Tim's face was flushed red, and he immediately tried to hide his shame.

The next time Tim was reading through the notes he had found, sitting in a chair by the fire. Suddenly, Kelvin was moving into his lap, making himself the only thing Tim could focus on. He straddled his lap and began kissing at Tim's neck, feeling the pulse point there pick up as he continued. He moved his hips and relished at the feeling of the other's breath hitching and the vibrations of the groan that followed.

He moved his onslaught to Tim's mouth, loving the way Tim's eyes fluttered and his eyes rolled back. He stopped after a few minutes and pulled away, looking in satisfaction at Tim's now messy hair. He looked both hurt and confused at the same time, his hands firmly gripping onto the edges of the chair. His chest was still heaving. If Kelvin wanted to play the teasing game, he could, too.

No, he couldn't. Who the fuck was he kidding? He spent all night thinking about that kiss and the teasing.

The next kiss was gentle and loving, without the heat of passion. Kelvin had been worried. He hadn't seen Tim in a couple of days, and he was about to go on another rescue mission when Tim suddenly stepped out of the trees looking exhausted. Kelvin ran into his arms and pulled him in for a kiss, his hands wrapped around the back of his neck to keep him close.

Tim was expecting teasing again, but Kelvin pulled away, concern shining in his eyes.

"You were gone longer than usual."

"Had to take the long way. Cannibals were everywhere. I'm sorry."

Kelvin shook his head. "I'm just glad you're safe."

Tim smiled and hesitated as he leaned down to give Kelvin another kiss. Kelvin smiled fondly and closed the distance.

"Does this mean you'll stop teasing me?" Tim asked once they pulled away again.

Kelvin smiled, a playful look in his eyes. "And miss seeing you all worked up and flustered? Never."

Tim doesn't think he'd trade that for the world.

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 16

*insert evil laugh here* I know some people have been waiting for this chapter.

I want to note - this chapter has the bonfire at the Rez. I am associated with a completely different tribe than Megan and Taza. Completely different. Other side of the country. So I tried to keep it a little vague while still catching some of the wonder that I experienced at my first bonfire. No offence is intended if I got some tribal things wrong.

That being said, let the fun begin.

Don't steal my shit.

Warnings: cursing, vague doctor shit (that actually happened to me when I was younger), negotiations with (technically) terrorists, Megan's first Templo at home.

Taza knocked softly on the adjoining door of the bedrooms and cracked it when Hank didn’t answer. He smiled as he saw Megan curled against his friend. “All good, hermano?” he called softly. 

Hank waved him forward. “A hard conversation. She wore herself out again.”

“Anything I need to know?” Taza asked, stepping fully into the room.

Hank sighed. “That’s for her to decide, Taza. It’s… not something I feel comfortable sharing on her behalf.”

Taza nodded. “We have plenty of time. Adam sent her up something. His daughters can’t wear the skirt and shirt anymore. He thought she might like something like what the other girls will be wearing tonight.”

Hank smiled. “She might.”

Taza sat the outfit down on the dresser. “When she wakes up, let me know if she wants her hair done, will you?”

A few hours later, the bedroom door opened and Megan stepped out. Hank had helped her dress in the white peasant blouse and colorful ribbons skirt Taza had left for her. She carried her jewelry box and hair stuff.

Marcus grinned. “Well aren’t you pretty, Poquito.” He stood and took things from her hand so that he could spin her. Her skirt flared prettily.

Megan giggled. “Thanks, Tío.”

Bishop smiled at her from his seat. “Your papa will be out in a minute.”

“Okay. Hank’s getting changed too. We’re leaving our kuttes here tonight. I hope that’s okay.” Megan walked with Marcus as her escort to join Bishop at the table. 

“What do you mean, Papa?”

“Good,” Taza said as he joined them minus his own. “Tonight, you get to learn right along with Hank, Chica.

 

Taza took her jewelry case and pulled the beaded choker out to tie on for her. “Hank’s never been to one of these either. He won’t know the dances any more than you do. He won’t know the stories or the culture. You’ll be on completely equal footing.”

Megan laughed and lifted her hair for him to fasten the necklace. “For once…”

Once the necklace was on, he kissed her hair. “Do you want your braids, Chica? Or do you want to leave your hair down?”

“I think I’ll leave it down, Papa. Hank likes it down.”

Bishop snorted into his glass. “Trying to short circuit his brain, Poquito?”

Megan giggled. “Maybe a little bit.”

Taza laughed. “Alright, Chica, but how about if I just braid the top part back? I found something pretty in the lobby store…”

“Okay.” She smiled and sat in one of the chairs where he could braid just the top part of her hair back out of her face. He fastened it and then slid a few silver rings though the braid with tiny beaded feathers hanging from them. 

“There. Beautiful.” Taza pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. 

Hank came out fastening the sleeves of his button down with Megan’s rebozo over his shoulder. “You forgot your wrap, mi princessa,” he said before he looked up. He smiled when he did. The way Taza had done her hair showed off her high cheekbones. “Mi reina hermosa…” Rex followed him out with his harness already in place.

Megan took her rebozo from him with a kiss and a smile. “Thank you, mi caballero.”

Creeper joined them shortly after and they were ready to go.

The bonfire was taking place in the desert behind the casino. The fire had been lit at sundown and now in the full dark, it was easy to find. Drum beats echoed through the desert night and rhythmic singing in a language Megan didn’t recognize joined it. As they walked towards the fire, Taza explained that the musicians and dancers took turns with the elders of the tribe telling legends and stories. Most of the people there were Navajo to their Apache, but there were some of their tribe there as well. Around the fringes of the firelight were pop up canopies that served things like frybread, Navajo tacos, and chili.

“So it’s like a pow wow, almost,” Megan said smiling. “I used to go to the public pow wow back in Tennessee.”

“Basically,” Taza said. “But there’s no prize money or competition here. Just celebrating culture. They don’t advertise these. Anyone at the casino who gets curious can come, but most don’t.”

Megan stumbled a little in the dark and Hank steadied her.

“There will also be some tribal artists there, so don’t be afraid to look around, Chica.”

They reached the bonfire and spread the blankets they’d carried with them on the ground that was still warm from the sun. They were in a good spot to see the dancers who were currently in the circle. 

The men smiled as Megan became immediately entranced by the drums and the dancers. She sat on the beach blanket with Rex. Taza sat down next to her and began explaining the stories behind the dances while Hank sat behind ehr. He scooted so that her back was to his chest so she could lean back into him and rest. Creeper joined them after slipping off to buy bottles of water.

Megan spent the night learning about the culture around her. Taza introduced her to members of the tribe he knew and taught her the basic step to some of the dances. Hank joined in for the dance lesson and they all laughed when they realized that he wasn’t actually that great at it.

Taza chuckled when some of the little girls nearby corrected him on the steps for a shawl dance. They led Megan to the side and taught her the way they had been taught, enjoying her questions and cheering her successes. They admired her rebozo and showed her their own shawls with colorful ribbons and designs sewed into them. When it was time for the shawl dance in the circle, the little girls led Megan out with them to dance it.

Hank videoed Megan’s laughing attempt to keep up with the little girls as they spun and bounced. He looked over to see Creeper and Taza snapping pictures as well.

When Megan was tired, she came back to the blanket to rest. She was joined by a few of the little girls who had so adopted her. Soon, the storytelling began. Taza translated for her when the stories were in tribal languages, but some of them were in English. While Megan was entranced with the stories, Hank slipped away.

He found the little girls from earlier who weren’t already sprawled on the blanket with Megan, and recruited them to help him find Megan a gift. He explained that it was her birthday and he wanted to find her something to remember tonight by. They took him to the jewelry and clothing vendors on the other side of the circle. One little girl showed him beaded hair combs she thought would be pretty on Megan. Another found a bracelet woven of green string. The littlest one tugged on his pants leg and pointed out a pair of silver and turquoise earrings. Hank bought them all and tucked them away into his pockets. He also found a vendor who sold charms and bought a silver feather for her charm bracelet.

The night got later and Megan shifted to laying with her head in Taza’s lap as he translated stories for her and stroked her hair out of her face. Mothers came to collect the little girls with smiles for the little family. As it approached midnight, Megan’s eyes blinked closed and she dozed to the sound of the drums. 

Adam came and joined Taza on the blanket, grinning when he realized that Megan had fallen asleep. “Has she enjoyed herself?” he asked. 

Taza chuckled. “I think so. She hasn’t wanted to leave. Every time we’ve tried she’s insisted that she wants to stay longer.”

Adam chuckled. “My granddaughter says she taught her to dance.”

“I apparently wasn’t teaching her the right way. They corrected me,” Taza said with a grin.

“It’s good that she’s interested in learning, brother. Bring her back anytime. She would benefit from some time with her ancestors.” Adam patted his shoulder and stood. “She’s strong. Only fitting that we can help make her stronger.”

“Thank you.” He looked down with a small smile and stroked Megan’s dark hair some more. 

Hank carried Megan back to the rooms when everything started to wind down. She’d had a long and eventful day. 

—----

The next morning, Bishop and Riz waited in the small conference room downstairs for Taza, Hank and Megan to return from the doctor’s office. They’d been waiting only a short time when Adelita joined them.

“Buenos días, Adelita. Thank you for meeting us,” Bishop said, standing to shake her hand.

Luisa nodded politely. “Buenos días, Bishop, Riz. When we spoke on the phone, you mentioned a possible alliance…”

“Of course. If you don’t mind, we’re waiting on a few more members before we discuss business. They took Megan to get checked out after her pain yesterday,” Riz explained.

“Of course. How is Megan? She looked… distressed… is that the word?... yesterday.” Adelita took a seat at the table and the men joined her.

Bishop nodded. “She’s alright. She was in a lot of pain from her cast. More than any of us knew. They’ve gone to get it taken care of this morning. They texted to say they were on their way back, so they’ll be here soon.”

“May I ask… how was she injured?” Adelita asked quietly. “Her injuries are quite serious.”

“A car accident when she was abducted recently,” Bishop explained. “She’s had a very hard time. She’s the one who actually thought we’d be able to help each other though.”

Luisa smiled. “She is strong then.”

“Very,” Riz agreed. 

There was a knock at the door, but before any of them could stand, it opened to reveal Taza. Behind him, Hank came with Megan tucked into his side and Rex’s leash in the other hand.

“Ah! Good. Sorry we’re late. Doc made us wait while he gave Megan another shot,” Taza explained. “He was worried about side effects.”

Megan smiled at them. “Good morning, Adelita, Tío, Riz.”

“Morning, Poquito. How’s the arm?” Bishop asked, standing to hug her.

“Alright. The doctor put me in a soft cast instead of plaster. He thinks my collarbone will heal much faster without the weight. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” she replied, hugging him and then moving to shake hands with Adelita.

Once everyone was seated, Bishop gestured to Megan. “Well Poquito, your idea - your meeting.”

Megan frowned but nodded. “Yes, sir.” She looked at Luisa. “We have a proposal for your rebels, but first - do you have access to a shipping port in Mexico? One that can take fairly large shipments and that you have total control over?”

Luisa looked thoughtful. “We might. It would depend on how large the shipments are. This is not a deal with Galindo, is it?” she asked calmly.

“No ma’am. This would be between Los Olvidados and Mayans M.C. Miguel Galindo is a buyer from us - but not part of this negotiation.” She looked to Bishop. “As for shipment size…”

“Anywhere from fifteen to thirty oil drums - about once every six weeks,” Riz supplied.

Adelita nodded. “That could be arranged. What is being… hidden?”

Megan looked to Bishop again, but he just nodded at her. She smiled. “Guns. Mayans M.C. is taking over the gun trade from a club up north. We’d be receiving shipments of weapons from Ireland,” Megan explained. 

“And what would we benefit from this arrangement?” Luisa asked.

“Fifteen percent of the profits we’d make from the sale of the weapons. That’s a large chunk of money, every six weeks for your organization to use in whatever way you see fit.” Megan said, looking at her. “Los Olvidados receives the shipment and assembles the weapons. Santo Padre Mayas transport and sell.”

Adelita leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. “Fifteen percent? That seems low. Especially for the risk of storing the weapons… twenty-five would be more fair.”

Megan shook her head. “If you control the port and already have strongholds for storing supplies in place - where is your risk? We risk it all transporting them across the border and to buyers. Eighteen percent.”

Luisa chuckled. “Ah, but we would need to pay off more officials for dangerous cargo such as guns. This is not bags of rice to feed hungry orphans. Twenty-two percent.”

“Fair - but you already own those officials and we know it. If you didn’t we would have already found you weeks ago. And your people are most likely already trained in the assembly process. Twenty percent.”

“Twenty percent and first option to buy when we have a big operation,” Luisa said. “We won’t even ask for a discount.”

Megan once again looked to her godfather. This time when he nodded she could see the pride in his eyes. She turned back to Luisa with a smile. “Done.”

Luisa smiled back. “You are very good at this, Armorer.” She offered her hand to shake, which Megan took. “I will put you in touch with my second, Paulo. We’ll get things arranged.” Adelita rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Galindo is waiting to take me back to my people.”

As they exchanged goodbyes, a knock sounded on the door and it opened to reveal Angel. His eyes followed Adelita as she left and until she turned the corner. Megan noticed. 

“Need something, Angel?” Riz asked.

“Just wanted to let you know we’re all packed up. El Padrino finished his meeting about ten minutes ago too, so we can roll out at any time.” Angel said, standing a bit awkwardly at the door.

Bishop nodded. “Good. We can go home and call a table. Then we can call Charming with news.” He looked to Megan with a smirk. “Beautifully done, Poquito. I’m impressed.”

Megan kind of ducked her head and shrugged, hiding her embarrassed grin behind a curtain of hair. “I didn’t do anything…”

Taza scoffed and looked to the other men in disbelief. “You just negotiated exactly what we wanted - with no extra concessions on our part - with one of the most dangerous women on this continent, Chica.”

“And you made her think it was her idea -” Riz pointed out. “Plus - you giving her first option to buy - that just means we gained ANOTHER client that no one had before. Do you know how hard that is to do in this business?”

Megan laughed. “I just treated it like a horse auction - not a big deal.”

Hank chuckled. “Only you would compare an international arms deal to a horse auction, mi amore.” He stood and offered her his hand to help her join him. “Come on. Let’s go take the pooch for a walk before we get in the car.”

The drive back home was long, but Megan passed the time happily talking to Hank about her new bike and the plans for the party for her birthday. She was excited. Bishop had given in before they left and called Charming to see if Chibs was interested in meeting. 

Chibs and Tig were on their way down even as the Mayans made their way back to SanPas. And - per request of the birthday girl herself - Venus was coming too. Happy had, unfortunately, been sent North to settle another issue for the club, so he wouldn’t be able to come.

They pulled into the clubhouse gate at about dinner time. Chuckie rolled it closed behind them.

As the men all dismounted in the pit, Hank grinned at Megan from the driver’s seat of her car. “Glad to be home, mi amore?”

Megan smiled and leaned over to kiss him softly. “Yeah. I am.”

Hank cupped her cheek in one of his large hands and kissed her back. “Good. Let’s go inside and debrief. Then we can go home for the night.”

He got out and unloaded Rex before coming to open her door. Rex followed him easily without a leash. Megan got out and immediately went to the trunk to retrieve Rex’s bowls for the clubhouse and one of the motorcycle tire toys. 

Chuckie approached to help her, but stopped when the big dog growled at him.

“Easy, Rex. Just another new friend.” Megan dropped down to put her arm around him. “It’s okay, Chuckie. Come meet Rex. He just doesn’t know you yet.”

“I accept that…” said the little book keeper as he came cautiously forward to be introduced. Once Rex had his scent mixed with Megan’s, the dog’s tongue lolled out in a doggy grin. Chuckie did his best to pet the dog. 

Hank laughed and got the supplies from the trunk. “Get used to him, Chuck. He’s la princessa’s shadow.”

“Dogs are very good judges of character. I’ll add dog treats to the bar order…” Chuckie said, making Megan giggle.

“Thanks, Chuckie.” She stood and dusted herself off.

“Of course, Princess Megan. Welcome home and happy belated birthday.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and laughed as they all went inside.

Megan handed the dog bowls to EZ. “Would you find a good place for Rex’s bowls for me please, EZ? I have a feeling Tío Bishop-”

A sharp whistle cut through the evening. “Let’s get to table so we can go home,” Bishop called.

“- is going to call Templo…” she finished with a smile.

“Of course, Princessa. If you’ll leave your phone with me - I’ll get it set up for Amazon. Taza gave me all the account info.” EZ gave her a grin and held his hand out for her phone. 

Megan handed it over as she turned to head into her first official Templo. Rex fell in right at her heels. Taza waited for her at the door with a grin. When she reached the stained glass door, he slid his arm around her shoulders and escorted her to the high backed chair between his chair and Hank’s.

Megan admired the intricately carved table for a moment before Bishop banged the gavel making her jump as he called the meeting to order. All eyes turned to him. 

“I know we’re all tired from the drive, but before we go home for the night, we need to catch everyone up on some shit.” Bishop looked around the table. “Let’s start with the easy shit - Megan, what did the Doc say?”

Taza chuckled. Of all the things they needed to discuss tonight, that’s what Bishop decided to lead with. 

Megan smiled a little. “He said I’m healing well. The break in my wrist is actually a fracture - painful but not something that should have been in the plaster cast with my collarbone being broken too. He cut it off and gave me a soft cast that doesn’t weigh as much. I’ll be able to take it off to shower and stuff now too. Without the weight of the cast - he thinks about a week and a half before the sling can come off. I’ll still have to wear the soft cast for another three plus weeks though.”

“And the pain you were in yesterday?” Creeper asked quietly. “He say what that was?”

Taza answered. “Shitty work at the hospital. They casted her arm when it was flat on the table. Meant her arm was basically twisted all the time in the sling. Most of her pain has actually been muscle spasms from the awkward cast position. The muscles pulling on her broken bone was causing major issues.”

“So - that jackass doctor at the hospital that knocked her out without any reason to, made her be in worse pain because he’s a shitty doctor too?” Gilly asked with a growl.

“Basically,” Taza agreed.

“Oh fuck that shit. We gonna let him get away with that?” Gilly asked angrily.

Megan eased herself closer to Hank as Gilly got loud and felt Rex lay his head in her lap from under the table.

“Cool it, man,” Hank said, sliding his arm along the back of Megan’s chair so that she could move closer. “The doctor isn’t club business. That’s Megan’s choice.”

“But -” Gilly said, smacking the table. 

“No fucking ‘but’, Gilly. And settle your ass down. She doesn’t need your shit temper right now,” Hank growled.

Megan swallowed hard, but tried to sit up straight and not hide in Hank’s side. She had to get used to things getting heated if she was going to be at the table.

Marcus was across from Taza at the table and cleared his throat. “That’s good news, though, Poquito. Means we’ve got about a month until your quince party.”

Megan smiled at him a little shakily. “Hopefully, Tío.”

Bishop nodded. “That is good news.” He looked at Gilly. “And Hank is right. Cool it.”

“Sorry, Bish,” Gilly said sullenly.

Bishop nodded. “Second order of business - the Irish gun deal.”

Everyone sat forward. 

“We spoke to Adelita today. Los Olvidados does have a port we can use for the shipments.” He paused at a few excited whoops from the men. “Furthermore, our Armorer once again proved herself to be exactly what we need. She set the terms of the deal in our favor. Los Olvidados will receive the guns, store and even assemble them on their side of the border. We will run the guns and handle the buyers.” He grinned at Megan. “AND - they’ll do all that for twenty percent and first option to purchase guns when they have a big operation. Purchase them AT FULL PRICE,” he finished proudly.

The men cheered and banged on the table as Megan laughed and hid her face against Hank’s shoulder.

“Well done, Poquito. Well done,” Marcus congratulated her as he lit a cigarillo and smiled. Once everyone quieted down, he continued. “That means everything to our club. This deal…” he looked around at everyone around the table. “This deal will make ALL of our charters lives better. Between the H and the guns, we may be on our way to becoming the center of the M.C. world on this side of the country.”

Everyone grinned and nodded.

“So - tomorrow the Reaper will be paying us a visit along with quite a few members of the Oakland charter. We’ll have Templo to vote on the gun deal and then…” Bishop paused to grin. “Then we get to throw our Armorer her first birthday party.”

More whoops followed that with more table banging.

He looked at Riz and Creeper. “How’s the planning going?”

Creeper answered. “Got meat coming from Angel and EZ’s pop for the grills. Cake ordered per Mama Loza’s instructions.”

Riz picked up the report. “Rest of the food - Vickie and the girls have covered as well as the music. They’re also coming tomorrow morning to decorate. Bar is fully stocked including enough Jamison to sink the Scot twice over. Bar work is covered too since our barkeeper won’t be on duty.”

Coco piped up, “Chuckie said he thinks everything ordered got here. He gave it to Letty to take care of.”

Megan looked around wide-eyed. “You weren’t joking?” she asked.

Taza kissed her head. “Hardly, sweet Chica. We don’t joke about parties often.”

Creeper grinned at her. “Told you we’d be sure you enjoyed the party, Little Princess.”

“Alright. Sounds like everything  is in order. Anyone got anything else to add?” Bishop asked, looking around the table. “Alright then.” He banged the heavy gavel. “Get some rest. I want everyone except Taza, Hank and Megan here by eight tomorrow to prepare.”

“Wait… what? Shouldn’t I come help clean and get things ready for Oakland and Samcro?” Megan asked.

The men filtered out laughing.

“Chica - you aren’t throwing your own birthday party,” Taza said with a laugh.

As everyone filtered out, Marcus caught Megan’s hand. “Stay a minute, bebita? I’ve got something to run past you in private.”

Megan squeezed his fingers gently. “Of course, Tío.”

Hank kissed her softly. “I’ll wait for you in the bar.” He patted his leg. “C’mon Rex.” He and the big dog were the last ones out, so he rolled the stained glass door closed. 

Taglist:

@jemmakates

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@delightfulheroshoeflap

@xeniarocks

@iamthegraham

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@anaeve

[mudskip-drabbles]

Hey hey hey Skip hey :3, gimme our Dangle Rompus idiot bros (Kaz and Leon)

fellas is it gay-

"What do you mean you 'don't believe me'! Pretty sure I've made out with way more people than you! You chicken out before you can even get out a pick up line!" It sounded harsh, but the 'fight' was all in good fun, it having started with Leon lamenting where he was sprawled dramatically across Kaz's bed, that some girl he'd hooked up with said he sucked at kissing. Kaz, who was only half paying attention while he scribbled out (rather complex) math equations in the margins of some blueprints where he sat at his desk, had said he could help him get better as a mostly a joke.

Mostly.

It wasn't until Leon expressed his disbelief that Kaz had to double down and commit, not about to let his totally awesome kissing skills get insulted by Leon, the guy who apparently sucked at kissing.

Leon gave a dramatic gasp at the 'insult', a hand clutching his chest as he sat upright.

"Nuh uh! I've been practicing dude! How do you think I got that chick to kiss me in the first place!" An eyeroll from Kaz as he spun about in his chair to stradle the back, his arms resting across the top as he shot Leon a smirk.

"Oh yeah? Hit me with one right now." Leon, who was not expecting such a request, visibly flounded, a finger being pointed at Kaz after the mechanic started to laugh at him.

"No! No, shut up, I got this! Just- Gimmie a fucking second!" One second that turned into well over a minute of Leon only able to get out um's and uh's as his brain scrambled to come up with something.

"Uuuuuh, fucking.....are you a mechanic? Becausssse....you can blow my seals anytime!"

Kaz was laughing before Leon could even finish.

"Do you even know what any of that means?" Asked through wheezes, there now tears in Kaz's eyes as he hid his face in his arms. Leon, who had started to protest, got as far as a deep inhale before letting it out as a groan with only a "No" in his defense.

Flopping backwards onto the bed, Leon scrubbed his hands over his face with a frustraed shout.

"Gooodddd, I suck!"

Kaz, who's laughter was steadily dying down to scattered giggles, stood from his chair and flopped next to Leon on the bed.

"Yeah, that was pretty bad dude." A statment which earned him a middle finger. "But- I meant what I said. Dunno if I can help with the whole shit at flirting thing, but I know for a fact I can help you get better at kissing!" Something he was very proud of, even though his face had flushed as pink as his hair.

Leon was faring no better, an eye peeking out between his fingers before he slowly sat up, face as red as his own hair.

"You're...not fucking with me? Because I swear to God if you are-" He didn't have a threat to finish that with. "A-Anyways, uh...if I were to humor you like a bro and let you help me, howww would we go about that?" Another eyeroll from Kaz, the normally squirrly mechanic managing to drum up some confidence not only because he was good and knew it, but because this was just Leon.

Who he definetly hasn't thought about kissing before. Shut up.

"Easy! We just-" Shiftng to his knees, Kaz very slowing set to straddle Leon's lap, shaky hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he shot his friend a somewhat nervous grin. "See? And you can just-" Hands reaching for Leon's , Kaz set them on his hips before returning his own back to leather clad shoulders. "T-Ta da!"

It...took a moment for Leon to come back to reality, the poor guy having short-circuited the moment Kaz has settled in his lap.

"Wha- Oh, yeah. Heh, super...duper easy." What...did he do now?!

A question he didn't have to dwell on for very long, Kaz able to dig up courage once again, (seeing just how out of his element his bro was) to bring his hands to cup Leon's face.

"I'm...gonna kiss you now, okay?" Met with a hard swallow and a nod, Kaz slowly leaned forwards, not more than a centimeter at a time, wanting to make sure Leon actually wanted to do this. Once feeling warm breath reflecting back to his own lips, Kaz took that as one last okay before pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss to test the waters.

Peeking through half lidded eyes, Kaz could see just how red Leon was, his eyes squeezed shut so tight he's suprised it didn't hurt.

"Relax dude, it's just me, remember?" Something that actually seemed to help, Leon able to untense just a bit with a shaky exhale, of which earned him another short kiss as a reward.

With each passing second and every careful kiss, Leon was able to relax more and more, eventually able to figure out just when and how to meld their lips together without bumping noses or clacking teeth.

Kaz himself seemed to forget after a while that there was a purpose to this makeout session, the mechanic gradually getting lost against his friends lips until-

"When the fuck did you get a tongue piercing?!" Near screeched by Leon as he pulled away, Kaz simply stuck out his tongue to show off said piercing with a smirk. "Nah, I know what's up! You thought mine was so cool you had to copy me!" A playful rib, it lessening the heat in the air as Kaz sputtered a scoff.

"Yeah right, like I would ever copy a dork like you." Blowing a raspberry, Kaz very nearly bit off his tongue as he was suddenly smacked with a pillow. "Hey!"

Grabbing a pillow for himself, he returned the smack with a laugh, quickly leaping to his feet as Leon made to swing back.

"Asshole! I'll show you who's a dork!" Their 'lesson' forgotten amongst the flurry of feathers that filled the room, it only stopped when they ran out of pillow to fight with. Flopping down on the now molting matress, the two simply laid in silence as they caught their breathe. At least until-

"You still suck at pick up lines."

Jumping up from the bed as Leon made to lunge for him, the two trailed feathers down the hall, laughing like dorks the entire way.

[ohsomightypeaches]

*gasp* it's here 🔥

But he can’t do his fucking hair.

Same. I felt that deeply.

Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.

That's what she said 😃

Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 

💀💀💀💀

Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’

Screaming 💀💀💀💀WILLIAM

Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’

His brain short circuited and he panicked 💀💀💀

‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’

💀💀💀💀 WAIT WHY WOULDNT HE OWN AT LEAST THE ONE TIE I HAVE QUESTIONS FRANCISCO. IS MY MANS A FERAL CAT?! 3 IN 1 AND NOW NOT EVEN A SINGLE TIE?!?!? 😌 I'd still take him

‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.

Oh sweetie.

‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.

😃 but the grays are 🔥🔥 maam

‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.

👏👏👏👏

‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’

😃 damn. You did not need to dig in like that ma.

Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’

Mama Morales is ruthless.

You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’

LOL

‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’

😤 excuse me santiago garcia why not WHY NOT COME BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF

‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.

My little debutante 🤣

Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.

👀🔥

‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’

NO SHOO GO AWAY LEAVE HIM ALONE

He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’

😤 he said what he said

‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’

🤭

Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’

GIRL NO WHY

Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.

🤷‍♀️ I mean if it gets broken you get a new one easy peasy

With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’

🔥🔥🔥🔥 that sza snl skit song immediately started playing in my head help

‘Eyes on me,’

😳🫣🥵

For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’

Ha

‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’

They ARE pretty 😌

‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀BENJAMIN

‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’

💀💀💀

Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’

BENNY DONT BE RUDE

Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’

SCREAMING 💀💀💀💀💀

‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’

💀 FRANCISCO he's not wrong tho lol

‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’

💀💀💀💀💀💀 fucking in a tree doesn't sound pleasant tho. I know that's not the point but man no thank you

‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’

💯 nothing but facts

🥺 I love them. That's all.

Grays II

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays - Part I | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, matchmaking elements, meddlesome mother, lots of teasing, not-quite-friends to lovers dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, oral sex (F and M receiving), protected sex, dirty talk.

Word count: 8.5k

Notes: It's here - 4 months later! First of all, thank you so much for the love for Grays Part I. I still can't quite believe the reaction to Frankie and Shiv, you guys sure know how to make a writer feel special 🥰 This one was so much fun to write, and nervous as I am posting this follow-up, I'm telling myself to let go of my insecurities and just enjoy it because that's what it's all about. I hope y'all will have a good time at this wedding with the gang 😘

Francisco Morales likes to think of himself as a reasonably competent man. 

He can pilot a helicopter under intense enemy fire. He can take out a target from miles away in the tightest of spots. 

But he can’t do his fucking hair.

He glares at himself in the mirror. He can’t put his finger on it, it just doesn’t look like how you did it. He’s already washed it out and started over twice, and for a second, he considers driving to your salon. A quick glance at his watch tells him it’s far too late for that now.

Leaning over the sink, he says to his reflection, ‘Focus, pendejo. You can do it.’

He’s a pilot for fuck’s sake. He’s a man of procedure, he can follow steps. He just needs to break it down.

Hair half-dry - check.

Hair mousse applied - check.

Now he just needs to dry his hair all the way and style it - but the how is where it gets hazy. 

Frankie closes his eyes and casts his mind back to your salon. He’s sitting in the chair and you’re standing behind him. He wills himself to recall what you were doing with your hands, but all he remembers is the scrape of your of your fingertips on his scalp, the ghost of your breath on the back of his neck, and then -

Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.

He scrubs a frustrated palm down his face when his cock twitches in his haphazardly ironed dress pants, not for the first time… hell, not even the fourth time since he left your salon on Wednesday afternoon.

‘Goddamnit,’ he bites out, dropping the hairdryer with a clunk and grips the porcelain sink. He needs to calm the fuck down. 

He didn’t ask for - this, whatever this is. You’re you. You’re Shiv. The loudmouth with the wild hair he’s known since fifth grade. The fourth wheel at guys’ drinks when Will can’t make it. A relentless tease on a good day, and downright insufferable when you get enough tequila in you.

And quite possibly, the only person who’s ever driven him to the brink of unconsciousness with just the touch of their bare hands.

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe you’re right. It has been a while since he’s been with a woman. He just needs to get laid at the wedding, get this weird tension out of his system. And then hopefully, he’ll be able to go to sleep without being kept up by you telling him to go harder, deeper -

By the time he gets his head out of his ass, it’s too late for second-guessing. He rakes his fingers through his hair, sets it with hairspray, and quickly rubs the beard oil he bought in town yesterday into his whiskers. He takes a moment to look himself over while he clumsily does up the tie he borrowed from Pope.

This is as good as it’s gonna get.

He’s the designated driver tonight. By some miracle, he’s only five minutes late when he cruises into Pope’s driveway, where all three of the boys are waiting and sipping on beers.

‘Damn Fish, you look good,’ crows Santi as he climbs into the passenger seat, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You should get your hair cut at Shiv’s from now on.’

‘Only if you keep paying for it,’ retorts Frankie while he backs out of the driveway. He pauses as he changes gears, and adds in a grumble. ‘She’s making me use shampoo and conditioner.’

Pope barks in laughter, twisting in his seat to give Benny a knowing grin. ‘Someone had to, you caveman.’

The younger Miller brother ribs good-naturedly, ‘You ready for some action tonight, Fish? I brought some extra rubbers just in case.’

Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 

The car erupts with playful jeers, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile as he palms the steering wheel.

‘That’s some fighting talk, Fish!’ goads Santi, punching him on the arm.

Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’

Benny grins. ‘Ok, I see how it is. Let’s make it interesting, Fish. Whoever picks up a one night stand first wins a hundred bucks.’

Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’

Benny chuckles and clasps his shoulder. ‘You’re on, man.’

It’s eight on the dot when you lock up the salon. While you did RSVP for wedding drinks - opting out of the sit-down dinner earlier in the evening - you hadn’t planned on actually going. But it seems like the whole town did, you’ve barely had two customers walk through the door all afternoon. 

So you let Ashton go home early, and after a quick snack, you take your time getting ready. Might as well have a Saturday night out - your first in many months.

The hotel is just a short Uber ride away. When you climb out of the car, you bite your bottom lip at the unfamiliar tension humming under your skin.

Nerves.

You’re nervous.

And worse, you know exactly what you’re nervous about. 

Or more precisely - who.

‘Pull it together, Shiv,’ you mutter under your breath. Steeling yourself, you stride into the hotel.

From his vantage point at the bar, Benny watches in amusement as Frankie glances towards the doors of the reception hall yet again. He doubts the pilot even knows he’s doing it, or at the very least, he doesn’t think that anyone would notice.

Grabbing his beer, Benny sidles up to his friend. ‘Looking for something, Fish?’

Frankie takes a sip of his Coke and feigns nonchalance. ‘Yeah, looking to win that hundred bucks from you.’

‘Dunno ‘bout that. I don’t see you trying very hard.’

‘Biding my time, Miller. Just make sure you have enough cash to -’ 

When Frankie breaks off in the middle of his sentence, Benny doesn’t need to look to wager a guess what caught his attention.

Turning around as you approach, he flings his arms out to give you a hug, eyeing you up and down appreciatively. ‘Babe, look at you all dressed up! Doesn’t she look nice, Fish?’

In lieu of an answer, Frankie stares intently at some invisible spot over your shoulder until Benny elbows him right in his stomach, jerking him out of his trance. ‘Fish?’

Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’

You arch an eyebrow at him. ‘You don’t know if I look nice?’

Benny has to stopper his mouth with beer so he doesn’t laugh out loud at the panic on Frankie’s face as he fumbles for a response. ‘I mean. Um, nice… pants?’

‘It’s a jumpsuit, Morales. Try to keep up,’ you reply and take two steps towards him, which has him backpedalling so fast that he upsets the table behind him, sending half-empty glasses spilling wine all over the white tablecloth.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he growls at you like a cornered stray.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull him upright by his tie. ‘Is he ok, Ben? He’s even jumpier than usual.’

‘Well, it’s a funny night for him. Watching his ex get married and all.’

‘I swear to God, Benjamin Miller, if you don’t shut the fuck up -’ 

‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’

‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.

Smoothing the lapels of his slightly crumpled suit jacket, you probe, ‘You’ve been using shampoo and conditioner like I asked?’

Frankie huffs a dry laugh. ‘I don’t remember you asking.’

‘Someone’s mouthy tonight,’ you tease. ‘And the beard oil?’

He concedes with a sigh. ‘Yes, Shiv.’

‘You look good, Francisco,’ you grin and reach up to push his curls back from his eyes.

He looks away as he admits, ‘Took three fucking tries.’

At least he holds still when you make small adjustments to his hair, shoulders stiff with hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You catch yourself missing the way he leaned into your touch in your salon, and you have to forcefully push that thought away as you push your fingers through the roots to boost the volume. His curls feel softer already than you remember them, with a noticeably healthier sheen. 

After a final rustle to loosen up his fringe, you wink at him. ‘Mark my words, the bride will rue the day she dumped your ass when she sees you.’

A voice from behind you interrupts. ‘It’s a bit too late for that now, isn’t it?’

Trading a look with Frankie, who gives you a sarcastic thumbs up, you put on a smile and turn on your heels. ‘Mrs. Morales, it’s been too long!’

‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.

Frankie’s taunt is so quiet that you nearly miss it. ‘Told you she’d come after you.’

Without skipping a beat, you elbow him in the ribs, ignoring his pained oomph from behind you. ‘You look wonderful tonight, ma’am.’ 

‘You can’t sweet talk your way out of my question, young lady.’

You cross your arms with a sigh. ‘I didn’t dye it because he looks good with the grays.’ 

‘Well, I don’t think so.’

‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.

‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’

Frankie throws his hands up in exasperation. ‘Gee, thanks a lot ma.’

You turn to Benny, who has been silently watching you two spar. ‘What do you think, Miller?’

He dithers, eyes darting around in desperation until he spots Santi and his older brother coming back from the bar. ‘Look! Here are the guys, let’s ask them!’

‘Ask us what?’ asks Santi, giving you a kiss on the cheek and a glass of bubbly.

‘Do you think my son looks good with the grays?’

Your eyebrow twitches when Mrs. Morales carelessly ruffles his hair to emphasise her point. To your surprise, Frankie bats her away with an irritated ma!, before hastily rearranging it.

‘Your honest opinion, if you please,’ you add.

The boys hum and haw, sipping their beers and shooting uncertain looks between you and Mrs. Morales, clearly uncomfortable being caught in the middle. Upping the heat, you narrow your eyes at them, and Will folds first. 

‘Yeah, I mean - he looks good,’ he mumbles, avoiding the Morales matriarch's glare.

‘Pope?’ you prompt.

‘Cabrón rocking those grays,’ he nods supportively.

‘Ben?’

‘Uh huh,’ he replies vaguely, but at your menacing glare, clarifies, ‘Yes, I meant - yes, ma’am.’

Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’

Ah, that’s the easy part. You look around, scanning the crowds - and bingo, you see a brunette staring openly from across the dance floor. You hold up a finger for dramatic effect. ‘Excuse me for one second.’

Frankie looks ready for the earth to swallow him whole by the time you return with the said woman in tow. Pointing straight at him, you ask, ‘Lucy, this is Frankie. Do you think he’s hot with the grays?’

To her credit, she’s a good sport, and plays along with a cheeky wink. ‘Yeah, he is. You wanna dance, handsome?’

‘Yes, he absolutely does!’ you answer quickly before he can get a word in.

‘What the fuck, Shiv?’ Frankie seethes through clenched teeth, literally digging his heels in, but to his despair, his shoes skid uselessly on the tiled surface as you push him towards the dancefloor with this complete stranger. 

Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

‘Have fun, Fish!’ calls out Pope impishly, which earns him an emphatic middle finger. 

You beam at Mrs. Morales smugly. ‘And that’s how it’s done.’

‘You better keep it up, young lady,’ she says over her shoulder as she turns to leave.

You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’

Santi is minding his own business, sipping on his beer as he stakes out the ladies, when a hand shoots out from nowhere and snatches the bottle from him.

‘What the fuck, man?!’ he bristles indignantly.

Frankie polishes off the drink in one mouthful, before slamming it onto the table and demanding, ‘Where’s Shiv? I’m done. I’m not fucking dancing with anyone else.’

Pope jerks his thumb to the other side of the room. ‘She’s arguing with your mother.’

Frankie flops into a chair, the dress shoes that he never wears are pinching his feet and he fights the urge to kick them off. He folds his arms across his chest petulantly, one palm over his mouth as his eyes wander across the hall to you, where you’re gesturing madly at his ma, embroiled in an impassioned discussion, probably still about his damn hair.

You’re all dressed up tonight, which is new to him - he’s only ever seen you in jeans when you go out drinking with them, and he’s certainly never seen so much of you. The ‘jumpsuit’ (he learns something new every day) is black and cut low both front and back, and fuck, all he sees is soft skin and the dip of your curves and red lipstick -

Pope must have nipped to the bar while he wasn’t looking, and a fresh bottle of beer appears under his nose. Glancing up at his best friend, Frankie mutters, ‘Thanks.’

‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’

He chokes violently at the casual non-sequitur, spraying beer everywhere. ‘What the fuck, Pope.’

Santi beams. ‘You got that look on your face, man. I’ve seen that look before.’

‘I don’t have a look on my face.’

He chuckles, mostly to himself. 'Damn, I really should've seen this coming.'

‘What are you even on about -’ Looking up, Frankie spots you making your way over and panics. ‘Shut the fuck up, pendejo.’

‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.

Santi chortles and takes his leave, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Good luck, Fish.’

You sink into the empty seat next to him and he deliberately twists his body away from you, drinking deeply from his bottle to drown out Santi’s words ringing in his ears. 

‘So, I heard you have a bet going on with Benny. I want splitsies if you win.’

Frankie rolls his eyes, staring resolutely anywhere but at the swell of your cleavage. ‘No.’

‘40/60.’

‘Fuck off, Shiv.’

‘30/70?’ you counter-offer.

He sighs. ‘You’re impossible.’

Ignoring him, you jump up with a happy squeak when someone Frankie vaguely recognises as a girl who used to be in your class approaches with a shy smile. You pull her close by the crook of her arm and ask, ‘Morales, you remember Sadie?’

He tries not to scowl too openly as he too gets on his feet. ‘Sure, hi Sadie.’

Herding them towards the dancefloor, you grin, ‘Go dance, get reacquainted.’

As he passes by you, Frankie grits his teeth and curls his fingers into the meat of his palms to crush the urge to reach out and touch you. 

But it’s easier to fall into your well-rehearsed roles, to toe the line that has been drawn in the sand since you were teenagers. And easier is certainly the safer option when it comes to you.

So he throws you a deliberate glare over his shoulder, with a deadpanned, ‘I hate you.’

You blow him a kiss and grin wider.

Frankie can’t hold back a relieved sigh when the interminably long song finally ends, and the woman he’s dancing with - he won’t even pretend he remembers her name - tucks his phone back into the pocket of his jacket after tapping in her number. ‘Call me, gorgeous.’

He stopped counting after the eighth woman you shepherded his way. This is it. He’s not above hiding in the toilets if that’s what it takes to make this stop.

Except he’s not quick enough. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, marching straight towards him with a fresh glass of water and a look of purpose on your face.

He doesn’t exactly know what came over him. He could probably blame it on the one and a half beers that he downed, or being pushed to the end of his tether. Whatever it is, there’s something he has to say to you, and it can’t wait.

You push the glass into his grasp. ‘Here, hydrate.’

‘Shiv -’

You’ve already swivelled around, your focus somewhere else. ‘Where is she? She was literally just behind me -’

‘Shiv -’

‘Mind you, she’s a sweet girl, but clearly not the brightest tool in the -’

His patience snaps, and he barks, ‘Shiv!’

You spin around, brow furrowed in confusion, and snarl back, ‘What?’

Frankie pauses, and you blink as his warm eyes hold yours. On an exhale, he says, ‘You look nice tonight.’

You’re vaguely aware that your jaw has gone slack, but only because his eyes follow the movement, dropping to your mouth. He considers you for a moment, head tipping just slightly to the side as he watches you. Then, satisfied that he has your attention, he brings the glass of water to his lips, throwing his head back as he drinks. 

Your breath catches in your throat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow, before he leisurely swipes his lips with the back of his hand.

Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.

In a perfectly mirrored imitation of what transpired between you earlier in the evening, he takes two measured steps forward, prompting you to back up against the table behind you. The tinkle of glasses falling over hardly registers in the back of your mind. 

The fabric of his suit is cool on your skin, brushing your bare arm as he looms over you, so broad and warm. Though his front barely makes contact, your peripheral vision gives and all you can see is him.

‘What are you doing?’ you croak the same words back at him, hating the way your voice shakes.

Frankie smiles - really smiles at you, with no colour of the usual irony or sarcasm. Warmth settles into the creases in the corners of his eyes as he holds up the empty glass. ‘Just putting my glass away,’ he says coolly, an edge of cockiness at your tragically obvious reaction to him.

You feel your cheeks heat up as he does just that - the back of his hand bumping into your forearm as he moves, the breadth of him pinning you against the table. He doesn’t pull away, clearly basking in the way the tables have well and truly turned -

‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’

Frankie squeezes his eyes shut in irritation at the voice behind him, nostrils flaring as he collects himself. A resigned smile tugs at his lips, and he tips forward, his words grazing your ear. ‘Catch you later, Shiv.’

You only let your knees buckle when he’s safely out of sight.

You’ve barely stepped back into the reception hall from a much needed bathroom break to clear your head when someone grabs you by the arm, tugging you onto the dancefloor.

‘Benny!’ You reprimand, stumbling over your feet. ‘I’m busy.’

‘Relax, Shiv. Frankie can survive on his own for a second.’

‘You’re just jealous that he’s hogging all the ladies’ attention.’

He scoffs, palms on your waist as he sways to the music. ‘He has an unfair advantage, ok? How do I compete with the bride’s ex?’

Clasping your hands around Benny’s neck, you catch Frankie’s eye over his shoulder. You wink at him casually, having somewhat recovered your bravado - it’s easier to pretend from a distance anyway. He rolls his eyes at you over Jan’s head, but he doesn’t look away, watching you with a hint of something you can’t quite make out.

Glancing up at Benny, you ask a tad bashfully, ‘I know we give Frankie a hard time about all this, but is he - ok?’

‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

You hesitate. ‘Well, we’re not exactly that kind of friends.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, the kind who sit around having heart-to-hearts and painting their nails.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘What kind of friends are you, then?’ 

‘I don’t know, he probably doesn’t even count me as one,’ you admit. ‘He barely tolerates me on a good day.’

Benny shoots you a cryptic look, but before you can quiz him on it, he changes the subject abruptly. ‘Can I swing by the salon tomorrow morning? I have a promotional shoot at half past eleven.’

‘As long as you bring donuts and coffee.’

He twirls you around. ‘Deal.’

Frankie slinks out of the hotel, somehow managing to dodge both you and his mother on his way out, which he takes as a win.

It’s cold outside. He inhales deeply and feels it burn down his throat. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he watches his breath mist in front of his face, savouring the quiet.

‘Hey.’

His shoulders stiffen. He knows he should’ve been the bigger man. Should’ve sought her out first, to congratulate her.

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

When he turns around eventually, she smiles brightly at him, her engagement ring catching the lights.

Closing the space between them, he presses a kiss to her cheek. ‘Congratulations. You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘I’m glad you came. Your mum too - it was a long way to travel.’

His gaze falls to his shoes. ‘Yeah, well. You know she loves you.’

‘How are you?’ she presses on, always one for polite conversation. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

Frankie shrugs but doesn’t answer.

‘Just because it didn’t work between us doesn’t mean I want you to be happy.’

He nods slowly. ‘I appreciate that.’

She points behind her. ‘Well, I should go back inside.’

‘Of course. I’m happy for you,’ he says. And he means it.

The hotel doors swing open, and Frankie looks up at the sharp clack of heels on the concrete. You pause at the sight of them by the curb.

‘Are you leaving, Shiv?’ the bride laments as you walk over to give her a hug.

‘I am, I’m afraid, gotta open up shop early tomorrow,’ you pull back. ‘Come by the salon any time, my treat.’

Once the bride is out of earshot, you turn to Frankie, hands on hips. ‘Alright, no more shirking, Morales. Get your ass back in there, your mother is on my case again.’

He folds his arms across his chest. ‘Oh no, I’m not going back in there without you.’

You sigh dramatically. ‘Am I the only one in this town who’s not scared of your mother?’

‘You should be,’ he snorts, then nods towards the parking lot. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

Taken aback by his offer, you hesitate. ‘Um - I thought you were the designated driver for the guys tonight.’

He brushes off your concerns with an easy shrug. ‘I’ll come back to get them after I drop you off.’ 

Typical Frankie - he walks off without even glancing back to see if you’re coming with him.

You smile to yourself and follow.

You must be drunker than you realised, because you’re staring. Again. For what must be the fifth time in the ten-minute drive.

It’s a lot of staring, even for you.

His jacket lies abandoned in the backseat, his tie jostled loose and the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened, sleeves bunched up to his elbows. You watch from the corner of your eye as his left hand grips the top of the steering wheel steady, fingers flexing every now and then on straight stretches of road.

As if you’re not already discreetly squeezing your thighs together, he’s also rubbing his right palm idly on his leg, the innocent rustle of fabric against skin getting you far too hot and bothered under the metaphorical collar. 

And then - your eyes trail higher - settling on the heavy bulge at the top of his spread thighs.

Fuck. You’re definitely drunk.

You mull silently to yourself that you actually prefer him in his beat-up jeans and threadbare t-shirts before catching yourself. You weren’t aware you had any preferences when it comes to Frankie Morales. And you have no business doing so.

Clearing your throat, you break the tense silence. Well, tense for you, anyway. He seems completely oblivious to your inner strife.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t win the bet.’

His lips quirk, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

‘I had another five girls lined up for you, you know.’

He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’

You reach over to punch him on the arm playfully. ‘C’mon, you know you enjoyed the attention, Morales.’

‘You don’t know me very well, do you?’ he peers at you.

You make a face of disbelief. ‘If you hated it that much, why did you go along with it?’

Cruising into your street, his truck rolls to a smooth stop outside your salon. Frankie kills the ignition, then turns towards you. His answer is simple, and hits you right between the ribs. 

‘Because you wanted me to.’

You force a chuckle in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Since when did you care about what I wanted?’

He smooths his palm over the steering wheel and holds your gaze. ‘Sometime when I wasn’t looking.’

It would be simpler to pretend you didn’t understand what he means. To brush off this pull between you as a champagne-induced episode that you could sleep off. If you did, you could still show up at Tuesday nights drinks next week as if nothing has changed, and carry on.

It would be simpler. So you ask -

‘Do you want to come in for a nightcap?’

Frankie follows two steps behind you as you grapple with the keys on the doorstep. Once inside, the salon is quiet, and you strategically turn on the lights by the backwash, the semi-darkness making it more homey than it would have been if fully lit up. 

‘I would invite you upstairs -’ you pause and add hastily, ‘I don’t mean upstairs like, upstairs in that way - it’s just that my apartment is tiny, and the backwash is the closest thing I have to a couch. Are you okay with beer?’

‘Beer’s good, thanks,’ he answers. ‘Need a hand?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘Oh god, please no - it’s a disaster upstairs. I’ll be right back.’

The rickety stairs creak loudly under your heels, and once you let yourself into your studio, you fall back heavily on the door, taking a second to catch your breath.

You invited him inside. 

He said yes.

You leap into action, shoving all your dirty laundry into the already full hamper. You try not to think too hard about why you’re cleaning up, you just hope you’re not making too much of a ruckus while you’re at it - because you have a boy waiting for you downstairs. 

Francisco Morales, of all people.

Despite having been in each other’s lives since high school, you’re pretty sure you’ve never been alone with him. Not even once. There’s always a buffer with Pope on his side, Benny on yours, and Will in the middle. And while some find Frankie hard to read, you’ve always known exactly how to act around him. You have an unwritten playbook - you bait him with cheap jokes, more often than not joining forces with Benny to gang up on him. He rolls his eyes and snaps at you to shut up. It’s the longest running show in town.

But this? Alone, after his ex’s wedding, in your salon? You’re going off-script and off-piste. Dangerous enough on a good day; outright stupid after a night of drinking.

Frankie is quick to help when you reappear, armed with beer and a bag of ice, using the backwash sink as a makeshift cooler. Your shoes clatter onto the floor as you settle in the chair next to his. Hugging your knees, you hold out your bottle, which he clinks with his.

‘Did you have fun tonight?’ you ask, rather mundanely.

‘As much fun as one is expected to have at an ex’s wedding,’ he answers with a sardonic smile. Taking a sip of beer, he adds, ‘Gotta admit, you winding up my ma pretty much made up for it.’

‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’

You startle when Frankie chokes on his beer, his eyes visibly watering as he thumps a fist on his chest. When you ask if he’s ok, he won’t meet your gaze, downing more of his beer.

Not thinking anything of it, you move on. ‘You know, she sent a bunch of customers my way when I first opened up the salon.’

His voice is still a bit tight from his coughing fit. ‘And I’m sure she’ll deny it till the day she dies.’

‘I can’t figure her out,’ you admit. ‘I can’t decide if she hates me or not.’

‘She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t understand you.’

You hum, unconvinced.

He nudges your knee with his. ‘She was really proud of you when you opened the salon, you know.’

You toss him a sidelong glance. ‘You talk to your mum about me?’

He’s ambiguous in his answer. ‘She asks after you sometimes.’

‘And how would you have anything to say to her? We’re not exactly bosom buddies.’

Frankie concedes with a wry smile, ‘Benny talks.’

‘Ha!’ you laugh, echoing his words from a few days ago back at him. ‘Benjamin fucking Miller.’

He goes quiet for a second, looking around your salon as if taking stock. ‘It’s pretty amazing that you’ve built all this.’

The unexpected compliment catches you blindsided. You reply diplomatically, ‘Ashton helps me loads.’

Frankie’s eyes widen in feigned surprise. ‘Are you going humble on me now? What have you done to Shiv?’

‘Shut up,’ you grumble good-naturedly, adding, ‘Ben tells me you’re doing really well yourself.’

‘Yeah. I got promoted at work last month, and I’m saving up for a house,’ he replies, a hint of pride in his voice. ‘Things are looking up.’

‘You’re actually acknowledging your achievements?’ you gasp in mock outrage. ‘What have you done to Francisco Morales?’

With a shrug, he leans forward to put his empty beer bottle in the sink, but he doesn’t sit back. Instead, he sways even closer, one palm landing on the leather of your seat next to your knee, eyes darting to your lips. His voice is deep as he rasps, ‘Can I kiss you?’

It would be so easy to say yes, but when have you ever made things easy for yourself? 

Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’

Frankie looks amused, like he expected this from you. Slowly, not wanting to spook you, he gently plucks the beer that you’ve barely drunk from your grasp.

‘Because all fucking night, while you were throwing woman after woman at me, I just wanted to have a drink with you.’

He leans in close. 

You stop breathing.

‘Because since Wednesday, every time I wash my hair, I get hard thinking of you touching me.’

Closer still.

Your lungs ache.

‘And because when you told me to go harder, deeper - I nearly lost my fucking mind.’

He’s hovering over you now, and you can almost taste the bitter sweetness of the beer on his breath. He smirks at you, but there’s only warmth and mischief in it when he teases, ‘Speechless for once?’

‘Shut up, Morales,’ you breathe and grab him by the collar of his shirt.

And then you’re kissing him. You’re kissing Frankie, and he’s kissing you back.

It’s messy, and disorientating, and you clumsily fumble over each other until he’s sitting up in one of the chairs, with your thighs on either side of his narrow hips as you straddle him. He’s licking up into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, his hands gripping your sides almost painfully hard.

‘Is this really happening?’ you garble into his lips, ripping off his tie and undoing his shirt buttons as fast as your shaking fingers allow you to.

‘If you want it,’ he mumbles back, loath to pull back from you even for a second to shuck off his shirt. ‘If you want me.’

He kisses you wet and insistent, but he doesn’t push you, waiting for you to make up your mind. Reaching behind you, you tug on the tie that holds your jumpsuit together with a decisive pull, letting the fabric ripple down your bare front and pool around your waist.

Frankie bites his bottom lip so hard it goes white. ‘Fuck,’ he cusses, his grip on your hips twitching as he stares at your tits. ‘Can I, please -?’

‘Touch me, Francisco.’

Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.

This being the way Frankie effortlessly tosses you onto the mattress, his arms flexing with an easy strength that goes straight to your head, as you stare giddily up at him.

His hair - your handiwork - has been well and truly undone, errant strands falling over his eyes as he watches you, his broad frame looming over the foot of the bed. He pulls at his belt, which falls open with a careless clink, and he makes quick work of his now crumpled trousers, kicking them off impatiently.

Your head is swimming, yet somehow, you muster the strength to shuffle towards the edge of the bed, rearranging yourself to sit on your haunches, knees folded neatly beneath you. Boldly, you reach out to slide his dark boxers down his hips, and they fall around his knees and onto the floor. His cock springs free, half-hard and heavy, and Frankie swallows thickly as you tilt your face towards him.

‘I want to suck your cock.’

His eyes close as if he’s in pain, nostrils flaring at your words. Taking advantage of his distraction, you wrap one careful hand around his length, and he jerks violently at the first velvety slide of your palm against him. 

‘Fuck, Shiv -’ he chokes, eyes flying open at the contact, pupils completely blown. He protests weakly, ‘No, stop, need to get you off first -’

You shoot him a lopsided smile, pumping him slowly, your pulse racing at the way you feel him swell in your grasp. ‘Can we not argue this one time?’

You lean forward and, holding his gaze, flatten your tongue and lick your way up the underside of his cock. His breath stutters, one big hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his eyes wide and almost frantic as you press open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive flesh.

With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’

He whimpers, and you know you have him.

His size is obvious by sight, but you really feel it in the pressure bearing down on the hinge of your jaw as you sink down on his cock, fighting to squeeze the girth of him into your mouth. The guttural groan from Frankie makes your pussy clench, and he tastes like he looks - clean, and all man. 

There’s no way you can take all of him, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. He’s hot under your touch, muscles pulled taut with tension that you can feel thrumming under his skin as you take your time with him. Focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat, you bob patiently up and down on him, slicking up his length with your spit, working him slightly deeper with every stroke - until you’re so full of him that you gag, hard.

Frankie is slack-jawed when you release him with an obscenely wet pop, spit trailing from your lips to the swollen tip of his cock, eyes wild as swipes his thumb across your puffy bottom lip. 

‘You’re beautiful,’ he declares, almost solemnly.

Slinking down his front, one hand securely around the base of his cock, you take him between your lips again, moaning at the salty taste of his precum, which makes him quake above you. As you swallow his length and pump your fist in tandem, your spit wetting your fingers, you peer up at him through your lashes - nothing could’ve prepared you for the utter wreckage that you find on his face. 

His lips are pulled back, baring his tidy teeth into a snarl as he very clearly struggles to hold himself back from fucking your mouth. You feel every bump and vein in his cock with each descent, the wet squelches filling in the gaps of his low grunts and moans. His grip in your hair stings as he starts panting in earnest above you, and somehow he gets even harder on your tongue, making it harder to breathe - 

‘Stop, stop,’ he wheezes suddenly, pulling back in a hasty retreat that has you whining at the sudden loss of him. ‘C’mere.’

He practically hauls you up against him, kissing you deeply, delving into your mouth to taste the bitterness of himself on your tongue. The world tilts on its axis when he tips you back onto the bed, and holding himself above you, he peels the jumpsuit off, leaving you in just your panties.

‘Gonna eat you out, baby,’ he drawls by your ear, trailing one palm up your body, which stops at your tits and squeezes. ‘Get you good and ready to take my big cock. How does that sound?’

‘Fuck, yes, Frankie, please,’ you beg.

There’s no shyness when he pushes your legs up and apart, and instead of taking your panties off, he hooks a finger under the thin fabric and pulls it to the side, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you.

‘So pretty,’ he praises you lowly. Holding your breath as he sinks onto his front, you breathe heavily in anticipation as his shoulders slot neatly underneath your legs. ‘Look at how wet you are for me. All this from sucking my cock?’

You nod frantically. ‘Frankie -’

Straight to the point as always, he ducks his dark head and drags the broad of his tongue over your clit - and you’re gone.

Admittedly, you have not had the best experiences with your exes. There was always too much gratuitous moaning and too little finesse, and afterwards, they always act like they deserve a medal for failing to get you off. But even if your past lovers had been more adequate in the field, you’re sure it still wouldn’t have prepared you for this. 

Frankie goes about it with a quiet focus that veers on reverential, the intensity in his dark eyes watching you makes your knees weak. He’s obviously picking up signs and reactions from you and adjusting his game plan accordingly, the pilot in him clearly in the driver’s seat. 

Not that he’s silent - far from it, you feel the reverberation in your core with every satisfied  hum deep in his chest, and the occasional, muttered fuck, so wet, want more in between licks and groans. But there’s nothing performative or showy about it, just a forthright competency that has you hurtling towards a toe-curling orgasm.

‘Frankie,’ you whine when you feel it about to hit. ‘Frankie Frankie Frankie -’

‘Eyes on me,’ he slurs against your sopping folds, and you listen - for once - watching him watch you fall apart on his tongue, thrashing in his hold as he grips you harder to keep you in place while he laps you up, until the burn of his patchy beard on your inner thighs makes you arch away from him from overstimulation.

Your pussy is still fluttering when he sinks two thick fingers into you, and he hisses at the way it clenches around him as he fucks you, leaving his digits slicked and slippery.

‘So tight, baby,’ he declares through gritted teeth, working you open for him. ‘Gonna feel so fucking good on my cock.’

You point towards the nightstand. ‘First drawer,’ you pant.

Needing no further prompting, Frankie yanks your panties off and flings the soaked scrap of fabric over his shoulder, then lunges at the cupboard where the condoms are. You scrape your nails over his thighs as he kneels over you, his usually steady hands visibly trembling as he tears into the wrapper and rolls the rubber over his heavy cock. He watches you with hooded eyes and settles between your legs, kissing you desperately as the swollen tip of him nudges at your entrance.

‘Ready?’ he asks, nose skimming yours sweetly.

You wind your arms around his neck, holding him close. ‘Fuck me, Frankie.’

The first push is a tight squeeze, and you can’t help the wince at the slight pinch as he sinks into you slowly. With a grunt of effort, he buries face into the slope of your neck and breathes, ‘Fuuuuck. You ok?’

‘Give me a second,’ you gasp, feeling your walls throb tightly around his length. ‘You’re so big, Frankie.’

He tangles his tongue with yours lazily in a deep kiss, before brushing his way down your throat and sucking on one nipple, making you cry out. He murmurs against your skin, ‘I know, but you’re doing so well for me, baby.’

Shifting your hips, Frankie groans when you slide him in deeper, the friction making you quiver beneath him. ‘Move, Frankie, please.’

He starts carefully, his strokes measured and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him as he draws back then sinks back in, exhaling shakily. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

‘Harder,’ you demand when you feel your pussy relax around him. ‘Fuck me harder.’

‘Shit,’ he growls and snaps his hips, drawing a squeal from you as he hits somewhere deep inside. You wrap your legs around his waist, bracing yourself as he drives into you again and again and again, the bedframe hitting the wall with each thrust.

‘So good, Frankie,’ you plead in between hard pants. ‘Keep going. Don’t stop -’

Looking up at him, you admire the way his hair falls over his eyes, swaying with his movement. Absent-mindedly, your fingers wander into his curls and his reaction is instant - he cries out, arching into your touch, his hips faltering as he seems to lose his rhythm. ‘Oh fuck, baby, been thinking about those hands all fucking week, just wanted to feel you touch me again -’

As wrecked as you are on his cock, you smile at his confession and slide your hands languidly in his locks, dragging your nails on his scalp, your chest swelling with pride when you watch his face - dazed and completely wrecked - fucking you so hard that you’re sure the bed is about to break.

When he finds his voice again, it’s your real name that slips past his lips. ‘Gonna cum so hard, oh fuck - I’m gonna -’

Frankie’s thrusting frantically into you, eyes screwed shut until his hips stutter and then - after one perfect moment of stillness suspended in time - shudder after shudder thunder through his body, your name a broken record as he spills into the condom, his scratchy baritone moaning into your neck as the frenzied energy bleeds out of him.

His weight pins you to the bed as he catches his breath, and you play with his curls gently, basking in the rumbling purr in his chest as you run the strands between your fingers. Eventually, gathering himself, he rolls off you to let you breathe, tying the condom neatly and tossing it into the trash can.

For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’

You laugh, which makes him grin. One strong arm reaches out to tuck you into his side, securely beneath the duvet. You hum at the tickle of his beard on the back of your neck and the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.

Right on the cusp of sleep, you sass, ‘Guess you’ll have to split the winnings with me after all.’

Any other day, you would’ve woken up if you heard someone on the stairwell. Hell, you’d hear if they were knocking on the salon door downstairs.

When you’re rudely shaken awake by frantic knocking on the studio door, you realise it’s because your hearing has been impaired by the side of a very warm body smooshed into your ear.

‘Shiv! Open up! I need to leave in fifteen minutes for my photoshoot!’

‘Shit,’ you croak, throat dry, limbs flailing as you try to sit up. ‘I forgot about Benny.’

‘Fuck him’, grouses Frankie, pulling you back into his arms, eyes still closed.

‘I can’t, I promised to help him with his hair. Fuck, do we need to hide you, or -’

‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’

Frankie lets you go with a grumbled Benjamin fucking Miller under his breath, but he visibly perks up when you stumble out of bed naked.

You half-jokingly shield your boobs from his view. ‘Are you perving on me, Morales?’

He smirks, leaning back into the pillows with his hands folded behind his head while he eyes you appreciatively. It’s not fair how his triceps flex deliciously with the movement. ‘Why bother covering up? I’ve seen everything already.’

Trying - and failing - to shoot him a stern scowl, you pull on a robe and yank the door open, nearly careening backwards at the sight of Benny’s grinning face right in the doorway. 

‘Since when did you bang paying customers?’ he demands in lieu of a good morning.

You roll your eyes and usher him downstairs. ‘He’s not a paying customer. He’s on Pope’s tab.’

Benny flops into his usual chair, making it squeak, one eyebrow up as he does the air quotes. ‘Well, I guess we now know what kind of friends you guys are.’

‘Shut up, Miller,’ you gripe, but your mouth twists into a grin, giving you away as you set up.

‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’

You point your styling scissors at him menacingly. ‘Shut up, or I won’t be held responsible if my hands slip by accident.’

Benny feeds you a sugar donut while you work quickly, trimming the ends before styling it, going for a tousled bed head look. You hear the water pipes run upstairs and the carpeted floors creak when Frankie gets up. Trying to play it cool, you only briefly glance up, catching a glimpse of him in the mirror as he makes his way down the stairs in his rumpled shirt and trousers, zipping up the fly when he reaches the bottom.

‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’

Frankie loiters behind you for a second, scratching the back of his neck, before pulling you to one side. Not that it affords you much privacy anyway, with Benny wriggling his eyebrows impertinently at the two of you in the mirror.

‘I - uh -,’ he starts haltingly, one hand rubbing at the silver patch in his beard sheepishly. ‘I had a really good time last night.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ you smile.

His voice dipping lower, he asks, ‘Can I take you out to dinner sometime?’

Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’

‘She’ll get to you when she gets to you, Benjamin,’ snaps Frankie, one hand on his hip and the other pointing a stern finger at him.

Something about him being so assertive sends heat running up and down your spine. Stepping into his space - beaming when he doesn’t back away - you smooth a palm over the front of his shirt, unintentionally catching the rabbiting of his heart underneath.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrug nonchalantly. ‘Do you intend to come back as a cash-paying customer?’

His eyes flash with want, one hand closing around your hip and he leans down to let his heated words brush by your ear. ‘Not if I can keep paying in other ways.’

Reaching up, you run a hand through his curls, preening at the way he closes his eyes at your touch. ‘Alright then, take me to dinner, Francisco.’

Peering around you, Frankie barks, ‘Miller, I’m cashing in on our bet.’

‘Fuck’s sake. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,’ he gripes, digging into his wallet reluctantly.

Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’

With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head and playfully push him towards the door. ‘Get outta here before I change my mind!’

‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’

You’re not sure which makes your jaw drop - his cocksure declaration or the roguish confidence with which he walks out the door. In either case, Benny howls with laughter as you struggle to stay on your feet, your kneecaps having been rendered completely useless.

Just as Frankie climbs into his truck, Ashton whistles to a stop outside the salon on his wheels. Jaw dropping at the sight of the disheveled pilot nodding at him through the windscreen, he abandons his bike right on the curb and dashes into the salon, the door banging against the wall as he rushes in.

‘Excuse me - what the fuck did I just miss?’ he demands frantically.

You roll your eyes. ‘Calm down, Ashton, it’s not what it looks like -’

‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’

He breaks off with a yelp when you stuff a donut into his mouth to shut him up, sugar flying everywhere as Ashton picks you up and spins you around, squealing like a banshee the entire time.

‘You guys are the fucking worst,’ you laugh, out of breath by the time Ashton lets you go.

Glancing outside, where Frankie is still parked watching the whole embarrassing episode, he gives you one last wink and an amused grin before he pulls away from the curb.

In an almost exact repeat of the scene from a few days ago, Ashton joins you at the window, and the two of you watch, shoulder to shoulder, as Frankie smoothly steers his truck out of your street.

‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’

You grin. You know you are - and luckily, it’s not a spot of bother that you’ll be in a hurry getting out of anytime soon.

Notes: I'm so excited to have finally completed this little two-shot. The two of them have been hanging out in my head all these months, it feels amazing to finally yeet this part into the world! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you had as much fun as I did with these two 🥰 Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ❤️

Now that I've got you here, if you want more of Shiv, I wrote some silly little drabbles of her hair appointments with our handsome Pedro boys for a recent milestone celebration. There are also some fun thoughts that came out of an impromptu Grays sleepover we had last week 🤍

I'm sure we'll see more of Shiv and Frankie somewhere down the line. For now, thank you again, I love you all so much ❤️

[witchofthescions]

"Hey, Lyse? Can I, uh... talk to you for a moment?"

Lyse raised an eyebrow, giving the suddenly awkward looking Roegadyn a confused look. She glanced from Erna to the troops bustling around and back again.

"Is it... important?" Lyse asked, halfway tempted to say yes even if the answer was no.

"I, uh, well..." Erna rubbed the back of her neck distractedly. "...It's not... important, I guess. Not to the war..."

"So it's something personal, then?" There was a barely perceptible nod in reply. "I think I can spare a couple moments for you, Erna. Let's go somewhere out of the way, yeah?"

"Yeah." Erna let out a relieved sigh as they found a relatively quieter corner to have a private conversation in.

"Alright, so," Lyse said, "what's on your mind?"

Erna took a deep breath, and tried to meet Lyse's gaze. For a moment she tried to work up her nerve, frayed as they were from what had just happened to Alisaie and Gohnoh'a. "So, uh... Okay, I..."

Lyse listened patiently, staring up at the much taller woman with her pretty blue eyes. She inclined her head ever so slightly, silently urging Erna to continue, and a lock of her hair fell out of place, brushing against her shoulder. To say that Erna lost her nerve would not be quite accurate. It was more that something in her brain seemed to short-circuit.

"Is... everything alright?" Lyse said, bringing her back to reality. Erna jumped, blinked a couple times, and then glanced away for a moment.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, I'm—fine!" She cleared her throat and glanced back to Lyse, whose expression implied that she wasn't quite convinced by Erna's statement. "Really, I'm fine, I just..."

Words kept failing her, and that bit of hair wasn't helping matters. So she reached over and gently brushed it out of Lyse's face. Lyse's eyes widened as her fingers brushed against her cheek, and her face reddened as their eyes met.

Well, if words aren't working for us right now, why not go for a demonstration?

Before she could really stop herself—or talk herself out of it—Erna leaned down and pressed her lips against Lyse's. She wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted. A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? Either way, it felt like an eternity before she pulled back.

"Oh," Lyse breathed.

"I-I... I wanted to... get that outta the way just in case..." She trailed off, but both of them knew what she meant.

Erna cleared her throat again and stood up straight.

"Though, uh, you don't... I-I mean, if you aren't interested, that's—that's fine, I just wanted to say somethin' w-while I was thinkin' of it, because if I didn't say anything now, y'know, I wouldn't..." She couldn't meet Lyse's eyes again. This was too much, she'd overstepped, Lyse was probably not that interested. "Never mind, I shouldn't have done that, l-let's just forget—"

She suddenly found herself pulled down to Lyse's level. Lyse cupped a hand under Erna's chin and pressed another, much firmer, kiss on her lips.

"Yes, I'm interested," Lyse said. She let out a self-conscious laugh. "There's only so many times you can watch a handsome lady carrying logs on her shoulders like it’s nothing before you start getting… ideas."

Erna laughed, placing her hands on Lyse's waist and flashing her a crooked grin. “Oh, so my plan worked, did it?”

Lyse's eyes widened. "You were doing it on purpose?"

"Well yeah, I was tryin' to impress the pretty girl in the red dress."

Lyse burst out laughing, pressing her forehead against Erna's. "Oh, gods! I can't believe I didn't catch on sooner!"

Erna couldn't help the fit of giggles that overcame her. Once they subsided, she asked, "So, uh... how long on your end?"

"Sssometime around that sparring match up on the statue," she admitted, face turning as red as her dress. "Probably a bit before, but uh... it didn't click until after we got down from there."

"So the dress wasn't meant as...?"

"W-Well! Not... consciously." Lyse tried to hide her reddened face, but it was rather difficult to do that when their faces were already so close together. "I started to get an inkling that something was up when I was... really disappointed that you weren't there when I'd finished changing. And then there was that... stuff with the knights and the kid and... and all that, so I didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it. And, well... Like I said, I didn't put it together until after our sparring match."

"So you've been thinkin' about this for a while, huh?"

Lyse laughed. "You could say that."

Erna let out a huffy laugh of her own. "Man, I'm real dense, ain't I? That long and I never even considered it."

"Well, now you know." Lyse snuck in another quick kiss. "And now we're both on the same page."

"Yeah." Erna smiled and nuzzled her face against Lyse's for a moment.

"Why don't you go get some rest?" Lyse suggested. "I'm sure Raubahn's told you the same already."

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "I just wanted to see you before I left. And get this outta the way."

"Right." Lyse sighed, then smiled up at Erna. "We can sort out all the details once things calm down again, alright?"

"Yeah." Erna scooped Lyse up into a proper hug. "Just make sure you come back in one piece, alright?"

Lyse laughed. "Same goes for you, hero!"

[redroomwidows]

Hey! I saw you were looking for James Potter requests so how about James dealing with having a confident girl flirt with him and he’s a mess because he has the biggest crush on her but doesn’t think she means any of it?? Thank youuu

Me? Writing a confident! reader well? Not likely. Fjjjekeke I did my best! Kinda like this though!

Warnings: one swear word, 2nd person.

James Potter x gn!reader

-----&-----

“Hey handsome,” 

“Hey Y/n,” he says it involuntarily, not even turning to look at you, he had Transfiguration homework to do and although he would love to procrastinate, he wasn’t in the mood to be played today. 

“Whatcha doing?” You sit next to him at the dining table, Lunch time was long over, and many students used the hall to study with friends from other houses.

“Homework,” Hm, you didn’t like that, too blunt.

“What homework?”

“Transfiguration,”

“Shit, for our class?” facade broken, you now rummage in your bag 

“Mhmm. Due tomorrow,”

You grab your quill and dump it on the table with some paper “...Want to help me with it?” James looks up, raising an eyebrow “Please pretty boy,” that doesn’t seem to help his mood, just making him look down in disappointment “Hey,” you reach out to touch his shoulder “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs you off “Just busy,” This wasn’t normal, normally James would stumble and blush at a compliment before trying to regain composure and respond with something better. 

“Have I upset you?” you sound so upset, so defeated that James has to look up.

“No, no, I just…” he pauses “Look Y/n I like you, really like you and the constant flirting is not helping me get over you,”

“Why would you want to get over me?” you ask quietly 

“Because you don’t like me,” he sighs, pushing his glasses back on to his nose

“Don’t like you?!” you exclaim, drawing attention to yourself, smiling apologetically at the group of Ravenclaws in the corner, you lower your voice “James, I don’t flirt with anyone else. I thought maybe you’d taken the hint by now that I really, really like you too,”

His brain short circuits, he doesn’t know what to say “Oh…” and then he’s staring at your lips and you just want to kiss him - but he beats you to it. When you pull away, you push his glasses up for him.

“Always wondered what your lips would taste like?”

“Got an answer?”

“Hm,” you sigh “Gonna have to kiss you again to know for sure,”.

[knoxvilleforever]

Jackass Guys being Flustered around their S/O Headcanons

request: HC of flustered Ehren? You can be as cheesy and fluffy as you want! Thanks!

request: HC of Flustered Steve-o with Fem Reader? Thanks

request: Flustered Bam HC with Fem Reader? Thanks!

ehren mcghehey:

ehren would be very nervous around you

and it would be very noticeable to all of the guys

who make it even worse for him

‘what’re you blushing for dude?’

‘fuck off, dave.’

he finds himself struggling to find the right words whenever you talk to him

and then he hears you giggle at the state he’s in and it’s over for him

he just tries to laugh it off and then realises he didn’t hear a word you said

because he got so distracted by how pretty you looked today and how the breeze is blowing through your hair and then all of a sudden oh god your mouth is moving and he can’t hear the words and

then you’re giggling again

‘ehren? did you hear what i said?’

ehren swears his heart is beating out of his chest

‘i, uhhh, i… no?’

‘i asked if you’d like to go get a drink sometime?’

‘a drink, with you? you and me? and a drink? like a…’

‘a date. yeah. i mean if you want it to be a date.’

he’s sure he won’t be able to wipe the smile off his face for weeks

‘yes! i do, i mean i’d love that!’

how the hell is he going to get through an entire date with you without making a fool of himself?

but now you’re giggling again

and he thinks he might just be okay

steve o:

i feel like steve o is really difficult to fluster

he gives off the vibe that he isn’t really fazed by anything

but when he sees you dressed up for something like a jackass premiere

he’s speechless

on a regular day he’s pretty smooth with the ladies

but the dress you’re wearing really does something for him

and he’s lost the ability to conjure up any thoughts in his head

‘hey!’

you’re beaming when you see him

but he’s not quite figured out how to connect his brain to his mouth again and form words

so then you have a hand on his arm and you look concerned

‘are you okay?’

and you’re leaning in close to him and now he can smell your perfume

and what is wrong with him???

he’s been this close to you before but it’s like he’s under a spell

and then his brain clicks back into action and his giving you a smile

and the most sincere compliment he’s ever given anyone

‘you look so beautiful.’

and you’re so happy that you’re surrounded by cameras because you get to have the look on his face captured forever

bam margera:

okay so bam is absolutely the most flustered boy around you

you could be across the other side of the room and he’s fumbling over his words just by looking at you

and then when he sees you walking over his heart is at a million miles an hour

‘hey bam bam.’

that nickname almost sends him over the edge

he’s flushed

bright red cheeks

and he can’t take his eyes off of the way you’re looking at him

when you’re deep in conversation with knoxville

ryan’s at bam’s side

‘what’s up, bam bam? did the pretty girl talk to you?’

‘…shut up.’

he spends all night working up the courage to talk to you again

he’s shooting daggers into the side of knoxville’s head waiting for him to stop talking to you

‘i, uh got you another drink. and i found the ice because i know you said you like your drinks really cold.’

‘that’s really sweet, bam.’

and then you’ve got a hand on his arm and you’re leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek

and his brain is short circuiting and he thinks he’ll remember that feeling forever

he’s just glad none of the other guys are around

because he can only imagine the look on his face

and he knows he’d never hear the end of it

[buckysswinter]

right where you left me

18+ minors dni

warnings: large age gap(implied; lee is late 30s reader is early 20s), angst

not edited or beta'd- do not repost oe translate!

lee bodecker x f!reader

word count: 1,172

help, i'm still at the restaurant;still sitting in a corner i haunt

the familiar scent of the diner hangs around the air, as y/n sits at the corner she watches everything unfold. she sees families smiling eating the food, couples either happy or arguing or the group of old ladies chit chatting and exchanging gossip drinking their third cup of coffee. y/n smiles at the vision in front of her, the noise distracting her from the pain- this diner had meant a lot to her a few years back. this was where the man that she loved so much took her to on their first date, this was the diner where they had their first kiss and this was the same very diner he broke her heart in.

she sits in the corner with her lilac sundress with her cream cardigan and her pinned up hair. she sat in the corner, notebook opened and surrounded by books. y/n was trying to study, she aspired to be more than what this town offered to young girls like her. the book on anatomy staring directly at her as she remembers why this plan of hers was stalled.

she could still feel his lingering kisses on her shoulders, his deep voice whispering on her ear, professing his constant love for her. it seemed forbidden at first but as it went on she let herself be indulged in the love and she loved it. y/n loved being loved by him, by the one person this town thought was incapable of such thing. and just as the thought of him vanishes in her brain, she hears the diner bell ring his laugh rings throughout the establishment and y/n freezes. her brain short circuits as she hears him, her heart beating faster, breathe shortens and suddenly everything she sees slows down.

she hears him demand the corner booth, the one where she's currently sat at,

-"i'm sorry sheriff bodecker, someone is currently sat at the corner booth," she hears lee scoff and as she looks up to see his reaction, he looks up to see who is sat there. the brief eye contact makes her hands shake and she looks away as fast as she could. y/n closes her eyes, she could not believe this was happening. it was to happen sooner or later but right now y/n would have preferred for this to happen later. y/n shuffles uncomfortably in her seat as the hostess lead lee and the woman he's with to the booth two spaces over. only then does she notice that the woman was carrying a toddler. another breathe gets stuck in her throat and y/n's heart aches. y/n wants to leave, she wants to run away yet something in her mind convinced her to stay- to focus on the anatomy book staring at her and that's what she does.

-"lee! not here, not in public!" the woman yells and she couldn't bear to not look up, only then she sees lee attacking the woman's neck with kisses. a tear rolls down y/n's cheek and she sniffles, wiping it and she gets up. y/n should not be suffering this much pain, she doesn't deserve the hurt that's haunting and plaguing her heart and mind. packing her things in her bag, y/n makes her way out of the dinner to only be met with the toddler lee was with to crash into her. her books spill onto the ground, the toddler also falls down on his butt. before y/n could think, she rushes over and helps the child, tears starting to form on his eyes as she tries to pick up the child, calloused hands collide with hers. flashbacks of his calloused hands on her body flash in her mind as she quickly takes her hands back, turning to collect her books.

-"'m sorry didn't mean to bump into you," she apologizes to the kid, who is now staring at her with kind eyes.

-"'s okay! mommy pretty!' the child points to her and she smiles as he appreciates her beauty.

the woman speaks up, berating her child for pointing in such a crude manner to a lady he doesn't know and whilst all this was happening lee stares at her- she couldn't decipher the feeling behind it, although for him it was pure adoration, the fact that y/n had put the child before her items, it warmed his heart. as y/n smiles at the child, lee's heart jumped, he missed her smile even more her laugh which was mesmerizing.

lee remembers the pain he caused her- her glossy eyes and wobbling lips as he tells her his news.

-"can't do it anymore sweets, need to break this up" her eyes flash to him, first with adoration the realization of what he had just said.

-"what are you talking about lee?" her pity attempt of a laugh to cover up her almost broken voice. and he stared at her, almost hearing her heart break as he repeats it again.

-"y/n i can't be with you anymore." the firmness in his voice makes her hand flinch, knocking the glass off of the table, the shattering noise of it scaring everyone around them, bringing the attention to the events unfolding between lee and y/n.

she nods at him, tears melting the makeup she spent so much time putting on- she wanted to plead with him, ask him for an explanation but she couldn't voice out any reason. she thought lee was proposing to her- the hole in the bottom of her stomach widen and everything started crashing down.

y/n walks out of the diner, peering into lee laughing and smiling with the woman he was with along with the child- she had hoped that image for their future two years ago and now she's left picking up the pieces of herself, persevering to make something better of herself because if she had let the sadness swallow her she would've drowned in them, stuck in this godforsaken town that she didn't want to be in longer.

lee gets up, helping his new girl and her son- a piece of paper catching his attention, he could only assume that it fell out of y/n's bag. he picks it up and his breathe hitches, the train ticket to new york staring back at him- she was moving and he was frozen in the position until he hears dorothy asking if he was ok, nodding lee tucked the ticket into his front pocket- leading her and her son back into his black deville cadillac.

y/n gets home, her luggage staring at her and she takes them to the station, yet when she got there, her train ticket seemed to be missing- the ticket was last seen in her bag tucked into one of her books. buying a new ticket, y/n boards the train and she sees all of meade disappear. calmness surrounds her as she falls into a slumber in her cabin.

a/n: this felt very rushed idk but i wanted pure angst. lmk if a part two should be written :)

shameless tags: @extremelyblackandwhite @tharros-auris-black-asimi @turbolisedcomet @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @elbell20-blog

[erensangel444]

i’ve been binge watching mha and deku is so nnghhhbfhrbf <3333 i’m having actual izuku brainrot rn so i feel like this is necessary ------> a little deku drabble

characters are aged up!

DNI if not 18+

“mmph!” izuku’s whimper was muffled, his teeth biting into his bottom lip, desperate not to embarrass himself. you were just so pretty, and somehow he had gotten you in his room (he still doesn’t know how).

but there was no use in thinking about that now, not with the way you were licking your lips, your hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock. 

was this real? were you real? izuku was about this close to pinching himself, but your pretty little laugh assured him that he was awake. 

“relax, izuku�� you said airily, your tongue peeking out to lick the tip of his cock and all the pre-cum smeared across it. fuck, your tongue had touched him for not even five seconds, and he already felt his brain short-circuiting.

and when your lips wrapped around his cock, he was a goner. he’d never felt anything like this and-- “shit, f-feels so good!”

your nails were raking up and down izuku’s thigh. they were beige colored, simple, but you made them look sexy. and with the way they looked wrapped around izuku’s cock, he wanted to paint his walls that color. 

“feel good?” you slurred against the tip of izuku’s cock, saliva gathering in your mouth. before he could even answer, you were back to deep-throating him, like it was or easy or something. 

and he’s not an egotistical prick, he promises! but he knows that he’s, urm--well endowed in his lower regions, and you were taking it like a champ. 

in all honesty, izuku was scared to look down at you, for he knew what it would entail. he had settled on throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. it was taking everything in him not to buck up into your mouth, and he was nothing if not a gentleman. 

he opened his eyes, being met with the all-might poster that was taped to the ceiling of his room. he’d definitely rather look at you right now. 

and, god, what a sight you were. izuku didn’t even know if you were doing this for him or for yourself because the way you were slobbering on his cock made it seem like you what you were doing actually gave you a sense of gratification.

fuck, if that didn’t make izuku’s cock twitch in your mouth. yeah, just like that, just a little more. izuku didn’t realize he was saying this out loud until you pulled off his cock with a soft pop, his hard(and now wet) cock, plopping against his abdomen.

you smiled up at him, planting both hands on either side of his body before moving up to kiss him, and izuku was more than accepting. he’d always told himself he’d never not kiss someone after they’d had his dick in their mouth, because that’s just downright disrespectful.

and like hell he’d turn down a kiss from such a pretty girl. you really were so pretty, and izuku was muttering this into your lips now, his hand reaching for the back of your neck.

eventually you pulled away panting, situating yourself back down in front of izuku’s cock, your hand moving to grip him, “i need your cum in my mouth, now.”

izuku’s breath hitched as he watched you take him back in your mouth. d-did that mean you were gonna swallow? he was pretty sure you would, i mean, when he had thought about you---well he tried not to think about you like that! 

he swears! he tried not to think of you that way, because good friends don’t do that. but it’s obvious you must of thought him that way, even a little, because the way you were mouthing at his cock was anything but friendly.

“fuck, please, please!” izuku could feel the water gathering at his lashline, threatening to spill over. you pulled off his cock, still stroking him, batting your eyelashes up at him. fuck, you were so perfect.

“what do you want, izuku?” you hummed, stroking him faster. “w-wanna cum! wanna giv-” his voice cracked before he recovered, “wanna give you what you want,” he muttered quickly, the tears falling down onto his cheeks.

you laughed softly, “are you crying, deku? want it that bad?” izuku could tell that was mock sympathy, and, god, it was making his whole body feel hot. he was gonna have to thank kacchan for that god-forsaken nickname because the way it fell off of your lips was heaven-sent. 

“y-yeah! want it so bad!” he was especially eager now, his hips thrusting up into your slowing hand. he was sure that if he had a tail, it would be wagging right now. “then take it,” you said softly, taking your hand off izuku’s cock. 

he hesitated for a moment, before you ushered him, “come on, fuck my throat, make it yours.” you were so dirty, the words that made izuku’s cheeks(and cock) turn red didn’t even seem to phase you.

“o-okay!” he croaked, cringing at the sound of his voice as his hands made their way into your hair. he pushed you down to the tip of his cock softly with a murmur of, “is this okay?”

his whole body felt hot as you replied, “i’m okay izuku, c’mon, make me yours,” you slurred. his cock bobbed at that and now he was back in your mouth. it was different working your mouth on his cock, he could control the pace, he had the power.

fuck, he had the power. he was trying not to get of control, he wanted to be careful and not hurt you, but your mouth was so tight and warm, h-he just couldn’t take it anymore!

you were gagging, choking on his cock now, and izuku couldn’t help the way his heart was swelling with pride. “g-gonna cum!” he could feel his balls getting tight, and almost as though you could read his mind, your hands made their way below his cock, rubbing them in your hand as you hummed around his cock.

izuku couldn’t take that as anything but permission, his mind frazzled as he spluttered around words, “f-fuck! g-gonna, y-yeah, gonna!” 

izuku felt the first spurt of cum shoot to the back of your throat, and he swore he was a man changed. you swallowed it all down, all too eager. and as he came down, soft spurts of cum still shooting out of his cock, izuku thinks he might of died mid-orgasm. 

you were still licking at the tip of his sensitive cock, and izuku felt so fuzzy he didn’t know whether to run from the feeling or to revel in it. eventually, you relented, resting on your haunches, your hands sitting pretty in your lap as you watched izuku’s chest rise and fall.

he opened his eyes, peering up at you from his slumped position against the headboard. again, izuku was a gentleman, and he had always felt giving was better than receiving.

he couldn’t wait to get his head between those pretty thighs of yours.

deku get in my mouth challenge!!!! i truly could give him the best(and probably only) head of his life <3333

thank you for reading, much love!- angel