#man I wrote a lot huh. Well I like them

[wonderlandwalker]

Two can play (but three's more fun)

���𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x reader x eddie munson 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when Steve catches Eddie staring a little too long at his girlfriend, he doesn’t throw a punch—he extends an invitation. And as Eddie quickly learns, Steve doesn’t just share; he teaches, with slow, filthy demonstrations. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, just pure filth really, posessive steve, desperate eddie, a lot of swearing, I couldn't help it, maybe some repetitive words but smut vocabulary just has it's limits

𝐚/𝐧: I got insanely stoned and wrote this so if it came out too horny i'm sorry, also im ovulating oops. I've prolly been very inconsistent with grammar tenses but I can't be bothered to check it. I usually correct my grammar after i've already posted so the masterlist link has significantly less errors than earlier versions

The living room was bathed in the flickering glow of the TV, some forgotten horror movie playing on low volume—The Thing, maybe, or was it Halloween?—its eerie soundtrack warping under the weight of the thick, sweet-smelling haze curling through the air. 

Eddie had outdone himself with this new strain, something sticky and potent that left his limbs heavy and his usual sharp edges dulled into something languid and warm, his thoughts perhaps a bit too syrupy.

“—I know I talk a big game, man, but fuck. I have no clue what I’m doing when it actually comes down to it.”

His voice was a low mumble, words slipping out like he hadn’t meant to say them at all. He tipped his head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling as if it might hold answers.

Steve blinks at him, slow and rhythmically, before snorting. “What, like… at all?”

“Yeah, man. Like—”  Eddie waves a hand vaguely, the silver of his rings glinting as he moves. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what sounds are real and which ones are fake? It’s fucking Russian roulette.”

The next reaction from Steve is immediate, no hesitation. Just a lazy, knowing smirk as he stretches his arms behind his head. “Huh. Well, once you know the difference, it becomes pretty obvious.” He pauses, just long enough to take a quick glance over Eddie’s face. “If you really need some pointers, I can ask my girlfriend if she wants to help you out.”

Eddie nearly comes crashing to the fucking floor.

Because fuck. He’s had a crush on you for, like, forever. Not that he’s ever admitted it out loud — not when Steve Harrington has a reputation for rearranging the faces of guys who so much as look at you wrong. Eddie has seen it happen: some poor asshole at a party, fingers skimming your ass as you passed, and bam — Steve’s fist in his jaw before anyone could blink. There’s even a rumour some other idiot once stared just a little too long at the way your lips wrapped around the neck of your beer bottle and then slurred, “Wanna spin the bottle?” Word is, Steve dropped him in one hit. No warning. No theatrics. Just pure, primal instinct.

So yeah, Eddie’s kept his mouth shut.

But now? Now Steve is watching him with this lazy, half-lidded expression, like he hadn’t just detonated a goddamn bomb in Eddie’s head.

“You’re fucking with me.” Eddie pleads, his voice rough.

Steve just grins — slow, deliberate — his eyes dark with something Eddie can't name. “Nah, man. She’s actually really into that kinda stuff.” His voice drops, gravel scraping over each word, and Eddie’s stomach flips “And I’d do anything for her.”

The air feels thick as Eddie’s pulse roars in his ears, his throat suddenly bone-dry. Was this a test? A trap?  Christ.  Harrington was going to be the death of him, and worse—Eddie knew he’d fucking thank him for it.

His fingers twitch at his sides. “...Yeah?”

Steve’s smile only widens, but his eyes soften. “Yeah.”

When Eddie shows up at your place the next night, he’s strung tight enough to power Hawkins twice over, his pulse hammering in his throat. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours convincing himself he’d imagined the whole conversation, that there was no way Steve Harrington just offered— 

And then you open the door.

Dressed in nothing but one of Steve’s old band tees, the fabric riding high on your thighs, you greet him with a smile that damn near stops his heart. “Hey, Eddie.”

His mouth goes dry. And before he can choke out a response, Steve is behind you, hands sliding possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. And then — Jesus Christ.

The kiss Steve gives you isn’t just heated — it’s filthy. All tongue and teeth, your fingers twisting in his hair as he backs you against the doorframe, his hands already under your shirt like it’s a regular Tuesday afternoon.

Eddie’s knees nearly give out.

“Watch,” Steve murmurs against your lips when he finally breaks away, his gaze flicking to Eddie over your shoulder. His voice dark and commanding. “And pay attention.” 

Then, right there in the doorway, Steve pulls the shirt over your head — meticulously slow, like he wants Eddie to memorise every second. And, well — Eddie does.

He memorises the way your breath hitches when Steve’s fingers brush over your ribs, the way you arch into his touch, the soft, real sounds spilling from your lips as Steve’s mouth finds the top of your breasts— 

Eddie’s throat protests as he swallows, fingers twitching at his sides like he can’t decide whether to bolt or drop to his knees.

Steve notices —of course he does— and his lips curl into something dangerously close to a challenge. “You just going to stand there, Munson?” His hands slide down your hips, squeezing just hard enough to make you softly gasp. “Thought you wanted to learn.” Eddie manages to get control over his brain just long enough to answer “I— Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. I do.”

Steve hums, pleased, and spins you around to face Eddie fully, his palm splayed possessively over your stomach. “Then get over here.”

It’s not a request.

Eddie moves like a man in a trance, close enough now to feel the heat of your skin, to catch the intoxicating scent of your perfume. His gaze darts between your face and Steve’s fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your collarbone.

“First lesson,” Steve murmurs, leaning in to nip at your earlobe.  “Don’t just touch. Listen.”  His free hand reaches out, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and dragging it toward you. “Feel how she reacts.”

Eddie’s fingertips brush your waist—hesitant at first, then firmer when you shiver under his touch. His breath hitches as you lean into him, lashes fluttering when his thumb grazes the delicate curve of your ribs.

“Good.”  Steve’s voice is low, eyes locked on Eddie’s every twitch. “Now kiss her.”

Eddie’s head jerks up. “What?”

Steve’s grin is all teeth. “Unless you don’t—”

“No, I—fuck.” He surges forward, crashing his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy and desperate, and he barely gets a taste before Steve yanks you back by the waist, eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

“Jesus Christ. Not like that.”

Eddie stumbles after you as Steve kicks the door shut behind them. “It’s like you were raised by wolves.”

Eddie opens his mouth to protest—then snaps it shut. Because Steve’s right. He’s a wreck.

“What are you waiting for, a written invitation?”  Steve’s voice is rough with impatience. “Kiss her again.”

Eddie hesitates—just for a second—before lust wins the war. This time, when his lips find yours, it’s still hungry, but it’s also aware, his movements more controlled. For a heartbeat, he’s terrified Steve will deem him unworthy of you altogether and kick him back to the curb—until you moan into it, until your fists twist in his shirt and drag him closer.

Steve groans in approval against your shoulder. “That’s it,” he rasps, pressing you forward just enough that Eddie can feel your heartbeat against his chest. “Now slow down. Make her want it.”

Eddie whimpers, but obeys, pulling back just enough to tease your lower lip between his teeth before licking into your mouth like you’re water and he’s been dying of thirst.

The sound you make — the soft, wanting whine—it's the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Steve pulls you back again, but this time, there’s satisfaction in his grin. “See?”  His thumb swipes over your kiss-swollen lips, smug. “She likes it when you take your time.”

Steve doesn’t let go of you—not really. Even as he nudges you toward the couch, his palm stays glued to the small of your back, steering you like he owns every inch of space you move through. Eddie doesn’t need to be told to follow; his pulse hammers in his throat, fingers flexing like he’s already imagining the weight of you beneath them.

“Sit.” Steve’s order cracks through the air, and Eddie drops onto an armchair like his strings have been cut.

You don’t get the chance to join him. Steve catches your wrist, yanking you back against his chest instead. His mouth brushes your ear, voice a low, possessive hum: “Nah, sweetheart. You’re staying right here.” His fingers trail down your arm before guiding your hand to Eddie’s jaw. “Let him earn it.”

Eddie’s breath stutters. Christ. Up close, you’re devastating. The way your eyes shimmer with pure lust, the way your lips part—just slightly—when Steve’s fingers skim over the lace of your bra. The syrupy moan you let out when he pinches your nipple over it, just enough to make your back arch—

“See that?”  Steve’s voice is rough against your ear. “She gets loud when she’s turned on. You just have to know how to listen.” Eddie nods, swallowing hard. His hands hover over your hips like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve under his touch. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, Munson. You’re not going to break her.” He grabs Eddie’s wrist, pressing his palm flat against your stomach. “Feel how warm she is? How fucking desperate?”

Eddie’s fingers twitch. He can feel it—the rapid rise and fall of your breath, the way your skin burns under his touch.

“Now”, Steve murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder, “show me what you’ve learned.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice.

This time, when he kisses you, it’s relaxed—calculated. He licks into your mouth like he’s savouring it, one hand sliding up your ribs while the other tangles in your hair. And when you moan, when your hips jerk forward like you just can’t help it, Eddie groans against your lips like he’s just discovered fucking religion.

Steve watches, eyes dark with approval. “Better,” he rasps. Then, with a smirk: “Now get on your knees.”

Eddie freezes, and Steve arches a brow,“got a problem?”

“No—fuck, no.”  Eddie’s already sliding to the floor, knees hitting the carpet with a thud. His hands find your thighs, gripping just tight enough to feel the muscle tense under his fingers.

Steve’s smirk widens. “Good.”

The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp—and God, Eddie’s never been so hard in his life.

Steve’s voice is a murmur as he trails a path down your throat, bruises already blooming under his mouth. “Now, make her beg.”

Eddie’s breathing is ragged as he looks up at you—fuck, the way your pupils are blown wide, the way your chest rises with every shaky inhale. Steve’s fingers are still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing a stray strand behind your ear with a tenderness that feels domestic. Your eyes meet Eddie’s just before they flutter shut, and it’s all the permission he needs. His mouth finds the inside of your knee first, lips dragging slow and hot up your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. Steve hums, tracing your ribs and sliding your bra strap down your shoulder. His palm cups your breast as it spills free, kneading with a lazy possessiveness that has your hips jerking forward — but Eddie holds you steady, determined. 

His tongue traces past the waistband of your panties like he’s trying to memorise the shape of you, and when his eyes flick up to Steve, all he finds is lust, raw and unfiltered. So Eddie hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls, dragging it down your legs as he kisses a trail after it, reverent even in his hunger. His fingers work you with surprising precision, his gaze desperate for approval — and when he curls them just right, you gasp, arching into his touch with a moan loud enough to make Steve’s smirk falter. He wasn’t expecting that.

The slip in Steve’s control sends a thrill through Eddie, and he murmurs against your thigh, voice rough: “You sound so fucking sweet — bet you taste even better.”  Steve’s grip tightens on your hip, hard enough to bruise, but you don’t seem to mind.

He’d meant to teach. Now, he’s learning.

And the way you’re unravelling under Eddie’s touch stirs something awake inside of him. Eddie’s got a musician’s dexterity, his fingers able to coax sinful melodies from you with every twist. When you whimper Eddie’s name, Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t stop him. Just watches with a gaze darker than the midnight sky itself as Eddie’s breath ghosts over you, your thighs trembling. “Please—”

The word barely leaves your lips before Eddie adds another finger, crooking them until your thighs squeeze around his wrist. He groans against your skin, resting his forehead against your leg as the vibration tears another broken sound from your throat. He fucks you with his fingers — slow and deep, then fast and relentless, like he can’t decide whether to savour you or ruin you.

Eddie, drunk on your praise, dares to glance up at Steve with a smirk. Steve’s nostrils flare, but instead of shutting him down, he drags a thumb over your cheek and growls, “You gonna cum for him?” You can’t even answer. Your back arches, toes curling, and Eddie drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. The moment you shatter, he loses it. He’s not sure what destroys him more — the way you choke out his name, begging him not to stop, or the filthy, approving rumble of Steve’s voice as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Eddie finds himself at an impasse, torn between begging for more and staying silent as the two of you decide his fate. His fingers twitch where they grip your thighs, his breath ragged, his entire body coiled tight with anticipation—and fear. Steve detaches himself from nipping at your collarbone when Eddie wavers, his movements faltering. A reprimand flashes in Steve’s darkened gaze, sharp enough to make Eddie shudder again. “Didn’t you hear her, Munson?”  Steve’s voice is a low, warning growl. “She told you not to stop.”

But Eddie freezes. The reality of where he is—what he’s doing—hits him like a freight train. He has no idea how to continue.

But Steve doesn’t tolerate hesitation. His hand fists in Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward with a rough, “Stop thinking.”

Eddie obeys like a man possessed, and the moment his tongue drags over you, his whole body jerks—holy shit. You taste even better than he could’ve dared to dream. Sweet, addictive, and the way you gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit?  He’s ruined. Forever.

Drunk on you—on the way your fingers tighten in his hair, the way you’re so wet it’s coating your thighs—he laps at you like his life depends on it. Steve watches with drowsy satisfaction, his palm sliding possessively up your stomach to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple just to hear you whimper for him again.

“Listen to how she sounds when you do it right,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with contentment. “Isn’t it the most beautiful sound in the world?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. Instead, he tilts your jaw toward him, locking you in a searing kiss. You moan into Steve’s mouth as Eddie continues, his tongue relentless, his own desperate noises vibrating against you. Steve chuckles darkly when Eddie whimpers, his cock straining against his jeans just from tasting you. He hasn’t even touched himself, but he’s so close he’s shaking.

“Are you going to come just from this, Munson?” Steve drags him off you by his hair, grinning at the dazed, wrecked look on Eddie’s face. “Fuck, look at him, darling. He’s a mess.” Eddie’s lips are slick, his chest heaving, his pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. Steve doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He pushes Eddie back into the armchair, his grip firm, dominant. Then he guides you onto the couch with a smirk.

“You did good,” he tells Eddie, voice dripping with condescension. “Now let me show you great.”

Steve doesn’t waste time. In one smooth motion, he hooks his hands under your knees, spreading you wide —putting you on display— before dragging you to the edge of the couch. His gaze locks onto Eddie’s, making sure he’s watching as he leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, a shudder running through you at the sensation. “See how she shivers?” Steve murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, laced with something Eddie can only describe as devotion. “It’s because she knows what’s coming—” Then he devours you. 

Unlike Eddie’s frantic, eager strokes, Steve’s tongue moves with precision — deliberate, decisive licks that have you arching off the couch within seconds. He teases you, circling your clit until you’re gasping, then he pulls back with a cruel smirk.

“Steve—” you whine, fingers scrambling at his hair. “Patience, sweetheart,” he muses — before sucking your clit between his lips, hard. Your cry echoes through the room, and Eddie’s hands clench into fists, his hips jerking helplessly as you overwhelm his senses without even touching him. Steve doesn’t let up; he works you with his mouth until your thighs tremble, until your moans grow longer and heavy, until you’re right there—, and he pulls away.

“No, no, baby, please—” you beg, but Steve just clicks his tongue, amused, sliding two fingers into you without warning. “Look at her, Munson,” he orders, curling his fingers just right, making you sob beneath him. “This is how you give her what she deserves.” His thrusts are ruthless, his palm grinding against your clit with every movement. You’re a writhing, whimpering mess, your nails digging into Steve’s shoulders as he fucks you on his fingers, his eyes locked onto Eddie’s the entire time.

“She’s close,” Steve taunts — he doesn’t even need to look at you to know, too busy watching the way Eddie’s jaw clenches.  “You want to see what happens when she comes on my hand?” Eddie can’t even speak. He just nods, frantic. Steve smiles wickedly and makes do with the response. “Then watch closely.”

He crooks his fingers again, pressing deeper, and you don’t just shatter — you explode. Your back bows like you’re possessed, broken screams tearing from your throat as you squirt, and Eddie swears he’s seeing stars. Your hand finds Steve’s bicep, clinging desperately, like you’re afraid he’ll stop. Eddie can’t look away; he doesn’t dare blink — if he misses a single second of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

Steve works you through it, drawing out every last spasm until tears streak your face, until you’re oversensitive, trying to squirm away. Only then does he finally relent, licking his fingers with a satisfied hum before brushing featherlight kisses up to your neck. The moment you feel his proximity, you meet him in a kiss — not heated like before, but purposeful, delicate, like Steve is guiding you back to reality with it. He doesn’t rush you; he just lets your fingers weave through his hair until your breathing steadies. Then, he speaks again. “That”, he says, “is how it’s done.” He meets Eddie’s stunned gaze. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about getting your dick wet until she’s clenching around nothing.”

Eddie’s so hard it hurts. His cock throbs against his jeans, neglected and aching, precum soaking the fabric. He’s never been this turned on in his life—and the worst part? Steve knows it. The bastard smirks, dragging a thumb over your lower lip. You suck it in eagerly, tongue swirling, before he pulls away and stands. It’s a fucking performance. Steve undoes his belt like he’s savouring the way Eddie’s eyes cling to his hands, the leather slipping free with a final, damning shush. You whimper, still boneless from your orgasm, but your eyes flutter open when Steve’s palm slides up your thigh, squeezing. “Please, Steve?” you breathe, and his grin turns feral. “Not yet, love.” He glances at Eddie, whose throat bobs under the weight of his stare. “Munson hasn’t earned it yet.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Fuck. He’s dripping in his pants, his hips twitching like a fucking teenager, and Steve’s going to make him wait?  But then— 

Steve grips Eddie’s chin, forcing his gaze up. “You want her?” he asks, voice rough. Eddie nods, greedy. “Then prove you can take care of her.” And just like that, Steve shoves him onto the couch with you. “Do it like I showed you.”

For a heartbeat, Eddie can only stare—at the way your breath hitches when he touches you, at the way your eyes lock on Steve, who’s sprawled in the armchair like it’s a fucking throne, lazily stroking his cock. Your lips part, and Eddie swears he sees your mouth water—fuck, it’s obscene. His hands tremble as he touches you—really touches you—this time. His mouth finds your thigh, kissing up the sensitive skin, trying to mimic the way Steve had worshipped you earlier. But when his tongue drags over you, your breath catches—wrong—and Steve’s low chuckle cuts through the room like a knife.

“Christ, Munson,” Steve sighs, his grip tightening around his cock. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Eddie grits his teeth. He is. He’s thinking about the way Steve had made you scream, the way your back arched off the couch like you were trying to fuse into him. He’s thinking about the fact that Steve’s watching, lazily stroking himself while Eddie fumbles like a virgin.

And the nail in the coffin? You’re watching Steve too. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes heavy with desire—but not for Eddie.

“Fuck,” Eddie rasps, pulling back. His voice is wrecked.“I can’t—I don’t—” Steve leans forward, fingertips ghosting over your throat as you keen toward him. “You can,” he growls. “Stop trying to perform. Just feel her.”

Eddie’s breath comes in sharp bursts. This time, when his mouth finds your cunt, he doesn’t think. He listens. To the way your breath catches when he licks a slow, experimental stripe. To the way your hips jerk when he sucks just there. And when your fingers fist in his hair—finally—it’s not to guide him, but to hold on.

“There,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with approval. “Now you’re getting it.” Eddie moans against you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat. Fuck. He’s dizzy with it—the taste of you, the sounds you’re making, the way Steve’s gaze burns into him like a brand.

But then Steve stands. Eddie barely has time to register the loss before Steve’s dragging him up by the collar, spinning him around to face you—really face you. Your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your thighs slick with Steve’s work.

"Look at her," Steve growls, his voice a dark scrape against Eddie’s ear. "Don’t just glance—really look."

And Eddie looks. He sees the damp flush between your breasts, the way your hips lift like you’re already chasing it, the way your pupils blow wide when Steve’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. "She’s not yours," Steve breathes, dragging his teeth over Eddie’s earlobe. "But fuck, look how bad she wants you to try."

Eddie’s pulse races. Then Steve steps back, gesturing like a king permitting a subject to kneel. "Go on. Make her forget my fucking name."

So he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the noise in his head, to sync himself with the thrum of your heartbeat beneath him, to dissolve into every breath you take. He wants to belong here, in this moment, where Steve’s approval hangs heavy in the air and your pleasure is the only thing that matters — success. A satisfied hum from Steve when Eddie finally finds the right rhythm, a broken moan from your lips. But your eyes — your eyes stay locked on Steve, even as Eddie’s mouth works you over.  It’s still him you want. Hunger battles with pride in Eddie’s chest. He hates how badly he craves this—how much he needs Steve’s approval—but god, he longs to pull those sounds from you himself, to unravel you with nothing but his touch. And so he moves like a man possessed, single-minded in his mission to play you like an instrument, to pluck every string until you snap.

Your taste is intoxicating, something he’s already addicted to, something he’s not sure he can live without anymore. Your eyes scrunch shut as pleasure blooms, so lost in it that you don’t even notice Steve speeding up his strokes, his grip tight on his cock. Eddie gets close—so close he can practically taste your climax—but you linger on the edge, just out of reach. He’s aware he’s missing something, some final piece to send you over, but he can’t find it. Then your eyes flicker open again, searching for Steve’s gaze like it’s the only thing that can save you. And Eddie knows—he’s pushed his luck too far. Steve’s patience snaps—not with his pleasure, but with Eddie’s failure to give you yours. Next thing he knows, he’s being dragged back, the warmth of you ripped away too soon. Steve looms over him, a predator in human skin, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “If you want to get a chance to fuck her,” Steve growls, voice dripping with challenge, “you’re going to have to do better than that.” 

Eddie’s brain becomes the mental equivalent of a dropped Wi-Fi signal—because did Steve just imply—?

Every touch, every taste Steve has allowed him, Eddie has devoured with insatiable hunger. But now it hits him—this is more than just a demonstration. Steve might actually let him fuck you. Or he would have. Now, Eddie isn’t sure he’ll ever get the opportunity again. A sharp, breathy cry from you yanks him from his thoughts. Steve has already turned you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees, one foot perched on the armrest behind you like a damn king claiming his treasure. Eddie is so close to your face now, your slick still glistening on his chin as you blink up at him, dazed. Steve teases your entrance with his cock, just enough to have you pushing back, begging for it. And for one glorious, heart-stopping moment—you look at Eddie.

Not at back at Steve.

At him.

Your gaze is pure, primal desperation—like he’s the one you need. Steve drives into you in one brutal thrust, and your eyes screw shut in ecstasy. You sob Steve’s name, but your eyes flicker back open as you you look at him.

“Baby, please—” And it dawns on him—you are begging Steve, but not for Steve. No, you’re begging for permission, your gaze locked onto Eddie like he’s the only thing anchoring you to earth. He doesn’t know what you’re asking for, but Christ, he already knows he wants it just as much. 

Steve, of course, does understand. He drags his cock into you agonisingly slow, pressing tender kisses along your spine even as his voice comes out harsh. “You think he deserves it, honey?” You whine, desperate, but Steve doesn’t need more than that. He leans over you, his thrusts deliberate, sinful. “How could I ever say no to you?”

And fuck, Eddie gets it now—gets why Steve turns possessive, gets why you love it. He’s watching the two of you move like a single entity, Steve’s hips rolling into you with a precision that rewrites Eddie’s entire understanding of sex. And the real tragedy? He’s pretty sure you’re only getting started. Your fingers fist in Eddie’s collar, yanking him down hard. His breath stutters as your lips take him in, hot and needy, and he doesn’t think—just reacts, his hands tangling in your hair as Steve’s thrusts rock you forward, forcing Eddie deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations nearly undoing him right there, but then your hand tugs at his belt loop like it’s personally offended you, and Eddie’s thoughts fry into static. What do you want? He glances at Steve for answers, but the bastard just laughs, driving into you harder like he’s savouring Eddie’s confusion.

And God help him, Eddie looks. It’s downright pornographic. Steve’s cock glistens as he pulls out, your body clinging to him like it never wants to let go, and every time he sinks back in, you clench, a broken noise tearing from your throat.

As Eddie freezes, you take matters into your own hands, undoing Eddie’s belt with ruthless efficiency. The zipper’s barely down before his jeans pool at his knees. He looks at Steve again—helpless—but Steve just shakes his head, smirking. “Jesus, Munson. Keep up.”

Your fingers brush the straining outline of his cock through his boxers, and his hips jerk. Your mouth finds the spot beneath his ear, teeth scraping, and—fuck—it nearly sends him over the edge right then. You’re not gentle. You know exactly what you want. In seconds, his dick is in your hand, your grip perfect, and the first stroke has him grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. He wants to keep his eyes open—to watch, to devour every detail of every second—but his body betrays him. A shudder wracks through him, his lashes fluttering helplessly before his head falls back, lost to the crushing wave of ecstasy."

“Fuck—!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze, dark with amusement. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show him how good you can be.” His hand tangles in your hair—not guiding, just holding—like he wants Eddie to see he’s the one in control. That every gasp you make, every shudder Eddie can’t suppress, is because Steve orchestrated it.

“Bet he’s never felt anything like you.” Eddie’s thighs tremble, his cock twitching against your tongue. He’s close, too close, and Steve knows it—fuck, he’s enjoying it. “Look at him,” Steve murmurs, dragging his cock out of you just to slam back in, punching a moan from your lips.  “Already shaking for you.  Bet he wishes it was him inside instead.” His thumb swipes over your clit, and you whimper, your rhythm on Eddie faltering. “But he’s got to earn that, doesn’t he?”

Earn it? Eddie’s vision blurs at the edges. He’d shamelessly beg if it meant— Then your tongue swirls over the head of his cock, and he chokes, almost falling forward into you.

“Steady,” Steve warns, though his voice is anything but calm. “You cum before she does, and I’ll make you watch while I fuck her twice as hard.”

Eddie’s groan is nothing short of pure agony. Steve fucks you more slowly then—cruel, like he’s savouring Eddie’s torment—dragging his cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your eyes water. But your dedication doesn’t waver; if anything, it burns hotter. “Shit—”  Eddie’s hips jerk involuntarily, but you swallow him deeper, humming around the salt-bitter heat of him. His fingers scramble at the cushions, knuckles white. “Jesus, sweetheart, where the hell did you learn—?”

Steve’s laugh is a dark, knowing thing against your neck. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading you wider as he presses inside, slow, letting you feel every fucking inch. “She’s full of surprises,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. “But you’re not going to last long enough to find out, are you?”

Eddie’s groan disintegrates, the way you swirl your tongue around him, the slick pressure of your throat—it’s nothing like the groupies who’d thrown themselves at Corroded Coffin. This is ruination. This is worship. Your mouth works him with practiced greed, and Eddie’s vision blurs.

“Fuck, I’m not—I can’t—” 

“Yes. You can.” Steve’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument—this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a command. His hand moves from your scalp to your nipple, pinching just shy of pain until you whine around Eddie’s cock. His other hand slips between your legs, circling your clit with filthy precision. “You going to come for us, sweetheart?” he rasps. You nod frantically, lips stretched lewdly around Eddie. “Good. Let him see.” You break with a cry, muffled around Eddie’s cock, and Steve growls as your body clenches around him. “That’s it,” he grits out, hips snapping harder, “that’s my girl—” Eddie’s spellbound.

 Steve fucks you through it, your tears smearing Eddie’s thighs. His breath comes in punched-out gasps, cock twitching against your tongue—

Steve loses control first. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hips stutter when you whimper, oversensitive, as Steve grinds into you one last time—claiming you like he wants to brand the feeling into your skin. And then— “Fuck!”  Eddie’s back arches, his cock jerking as you pull off with a slick pop, begging Steve for mercy. He comes untouched, frustration and relief searing through him as he gasps your name like a prayer. Steve laughs, low and satisfied. Eddie’s too wrecked to care, chest heaving—until Steve’s next words send him tumbling straight back into want.

“Let me know if you’ve got any requests for the next lesson.”

[mrsshabana]

This request can go on the back burner, but an idea struck me with the force of a ton of bricks when I say your post about incel Gyutaro.

What about a little story where Gyutaro is trying to join a fraternity, to impress girls, and it's hazing time~ They make the pledges strip down to their boxers and wear blindfolds. The frat guys got a bunch of pretty girls together to write on their bodies with washable markers. Compliments or insults. The one with the most compliments from different girls joins tonight, and the one with the least has to walk home in his underwear. The others just get their clothes back and can stay at the party.

Reader is heartbroken by the amount of insults on Gyutaro's body with no compliments. So she puts on red lipstick and kisses all of his birthmarks! And writes in the lipstick. He's still losing, but he definitely won't mind as much anymore. Also, I feel like this is a mouthful if you don't wanna post my ask, itself, that's fine.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro thinks joining a fraternity will help him impress girls, but it results in him getting hazed and utterly humiliated. Though you end up making it all worth it. Maybe it did help him impress girls after all. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, smut, MDNI, incel Gyutaro, college au, angst, humiliation, hazing, vaginal sex, creampie, premature ejaculation ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.6k words. THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I'VE SEEN ALL YEAR. I KID YOU NOT - AS SOON AS I SAW THIS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT EVERY MOMENT SINCE. This ended up being some of my best writing, thank you so much for this request ♡

You've seen some crazy shit since you've joined a sorority but nothing quite like this. It's nothing new that the fraternity guys on Greek row like holding strange events and wild parties. But you never thought they'd invite you and some of your fellow sorority members over to haze some rookies.

A line of almost naked men stand before you, blindfolded and in nothing but their boxers. You and the other girls are tasked with writing comments about their appearance on their bodies with a marker. Compliments or insults, both are encouraged.

Most of them just look like your everyday frat boy, with lots of them having abs and large muscles. The only one that stands out is the guy at the end. You can already tell he doesn't belong in this crowd by how pale he is. Not spending the summer drinking beers at the lake and getting a nice tan? Who the hell is this guy? He looks like the type that stays inside all day playing video games and watching hentai.

And that's not all - his body stands out in many other ways as well. He's really skinny and his hip bones protrude in an unnatural way. Not to mention the large ink-like birthmarks that are scattered across his body.

However, even though he looks different, you don't have a negative impression of him. All you thought when you first saw him was, "Huh, that guy doesn't look like the kind of guy to join a frat."

As you go down the line you write nice comments on each man's body, not having the heart to write anything negative and possibly hurt someone's feelings. You always felt bad for the guys that get hazed so you could never bring yourself to make it worse for them. However, when you get to the skinny guy, you are utterly shocked by what you see.

Littered all over his body are mean and cruel insults. You felt sick to your stomach as you read them.

"Disgusting"

"Freak"

"Incel"

"Virgin"

One girl even wrote, "Ew, why are you even here?" while another wrote, "I rather die than sleep with you lol."

You understand that he has an unconventional appearance but it certainly does not warrant all of these hateful comments. It breaks your heart to see that not even a single girl has said something nice about him.

You can't even imagine the amount of courage it must have taken him to stand up here like this. Only to get shot down and made fun of? You won't stand for it.

He flinches as he feels your delicate, manicured hands touch his chest. Then he feels something creamy and soft glide along his body, it feels different from the markers he's felt so far.

You decide to write some nice comments in your favorite red lipstick.

"So hot!"

"Cutie ;)"

But you feel like it isn't enough so you put a layer of the vibrant shade on your lips, then begin to kiss the birthmarks on his body.

His breath hitches and his face turns red when he feels you kiss him. Starting with his cheek and going all the way down to the mark on his hip. Everyone stares at you with confused faces as they watch you adore the "ugliest" guy in the lineup. But honestly, you don't care, you think he's hot as hell.

However, you feel like it's not enough so you write, "CALL ME!" in large letters on his chest followed by your phone number.

As all of the girls finish up leaving their comments for the guys, they are finally allowed to take off their blindfolds and read the messages on their bodies.

When he removes his blindfold you can't help but smile seeing how cute he is, and not to mention those beautiful blue eyes.

The self-proclaimed leader of the hazing committee, Tengen Uzui, reads the comments out loud.

Of course, the insults on Gyutaro's body sting. Especially since they are so harsh and he received a lot more than everyone else. But the bright red compliments are what's keeping him afloat. Almost making him not give a fuck about what any of the other girls had to say. Of course, there is a part of him that thinks this could be a cruel trick to get his hopes up. But honestly, after going so many years without a girl even looking in his direction, he can't help but get excited. After all, this is the first time he's ever gotten a girl's phone number.

He looks around the room, trying to see who the culprit could be. There are a few girls wearing red lipstick so he's not entirely sure who it could be.

"Looks like you'll be walking home, Gyutaro!" Tengen announced loudly, "And I'll be keeping these!" He laughs as he snatches Gyutaro's clothes - forcing him to walk home shamefully in nothing but his boxers.

He feels a wave of embarrassment wash over him as everyone stares and laughs. Just wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, he nods and walks towards the door.

"Wait!" You shout as you run towards him, taking off your shirt and jeans. Once you're down to your bra and panties you say, "Let's go together."

His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, his face as red as a tomato. The party goes completely silent, the girls stare at you with confusion and a hint of disgust. While the guys stare at Gyutaro with envy, wishing that they were in his place.

"Well, come on," you say, breaking the silence.

Gyutaro gives you a shaky nod and opens the door for you, following you out.

Once outside the frat house, he really doesn't know what to say, at a complete loss for words. A half-naked girl is walking home with him right now, and not just any girl, you're a solid ten.

His perverted self may be too focused on your appearance right now, but a part of him does recognize how nice it was of you to do that for him so he didn't feel so embarrassed. You literally took off your clothes so you could endure his hazing punishment with him. No one's ever been so kind to him before - especially not a woman.

He keeps looking at your tits, trying not to be obvious about it but he can't help himself. He loves boobs!! He always has and he's never been so close to them before. Honestly, it's a miracle he isn't sporting a massive hard-on right now. The cold breeze hitting his exposed skin is the only thing keeping it at bay.

"Um... thanks," he rasps quietly, barely mustering the courage to speak to you at all, "What's your name?"

"Oh, my name's Y/N. And don't mention it," you smile, "No one deserves to be treated that way."

"... so you did it out of pity?" he frowns.

"Not at all! I-I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then what did you mean?"

"Well... I think you're really cute. Nerdy shy guys like you have always been my type," you express your feelings with a hint of embarrassment, "And just because you don't look like the other guys doesn't mean that warrants bullying."

Gyutaro blushes deeply, too shy and flattered to respond. So you continue.

"Don't join the frat, Gyutaro. You won't be happy there, they'll just make you an outcast because you're different. I really hope you change your mind about it." You hope your words won't offend him, but it's the honest truth. A guy like him doesn't belong in a frat and deep down he knows that.

Gyutaro hates everyone in that frat, he finds them annoying and idiotic. He only wanted to join in the first place because he's so desperate to get laid and he knows those types of guys pull chicks left and right.

"Alright, I won't join. But only if you have sex with me," he states with a confidence he hasn't had all night.

"Wh-what?!" You gasp, almost certain you must not have heard him correctly.

"I only wanted to join that stupid fraternity to get laid. You're the first girl that's ever been interested in me. So if you sleep with me then I'll know I can get laid without needing the frat."

At a loss for words, you stare at him with wide eyes as the two of you stand outside of his dorm building.

You're no saint, so sex isn't something you aren't used to. But you also wouldn't consider yourself the type to sleep with a guy you barely know either. This is still weird for you. But is it too weird for you?

Obviously not because you feel butterflies form in your stomach and a moistness develop in your panties as you think about it. He is really cute, and he does have a point. If you sleep with him maybe it will boost his confidence. And who knows, maybe after tonight you could get closer to him. Being a virgin and all, he doesn't seem like the type to just dip and skip.

"Ok, you have a deal," you smile shyly and take his hand, "This is your dorm building right?"

His jaw drops, not expecting you to have agreed. "Y-Yeah," he stutters.

"Let's hurry before anyone catches us!" Dragging him inside, the two of you sneak up to his room without being noticed.

Once inside you get clear confirmation that Gyutaro is the exact kind of guy you thought he was. Clothes and empty energy drink cans were strewn about his room. The air smells like a mix of body odor and G Fuel. On his desk is a nice looking PC gaming setup. Equip with neon lights and an RTX 3090. And you aren't surprised to see a bottle of lotion on his desk. And beside it is an nsfw figurine of some anime character that looks vaguely similar to you. Maybe you are his type after all.

Gyutaro doesn't bother cleaning up or even apologizing for the mess, it's like he doesn't even care. He just turns on some colored lights and sits on the bed. Now that he's out of the cold and inside the comfort of his own dorm, you can see his erection quickly growing under his boxers.

"Well? Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out now," he scowls.

"No! I'm not chickening out! I'm actually really excited..." you sit beside him and caress his thigh.

Immediately you can see his member twitch beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. He had this nonchalant act going on, but now it's crumbling down and he's a complete mess.

"C-Can I touch them?" he mutters as he stares down at your chest.

"Sure, let me help you," you say as you unhook your bra and throw it to the side. His eyes widen and he has to stop himself from drooling.

Like instinct, his hands go to your breasts and he starts feeling and playing with them. It's obvious he's never done this before because his hands are shaky and he's handling them roughly. But he's just so excited!

"Woah," he says in awe, "These are awesome..."

Even though he's a bit rough and inexperienced, it still feels good. The way his bony fingers squeeze and prod, along with how he runs his fingers over your nipples with curiosity.

"Gyutaro..." you whisper as you caress his cheek and pull him closer, "Come here." Pulling him into a heated kiss, it's obvious he doesn't know what to do. But you try your best to guide him.

He whimpers into the kiss as you slide your tongue into his mouth. He tries to reciprocate but he's quite sloppy.

Despite that, it still sends him to cloud nine. Not only is this his first kiss but he also gets to touch tits at the same time. It's so overwhelming for him that he feels like he's already going to cum.

Hastily shoving his hand down his boxers, he grabs the base of his cock and squeezes tightly - desperately trying to stop himself from cumming. He pulls away from the kiss and says, "T-Take off your panties, I-I wanna fuck you already."

With a devious smirk, you spread your legs as you remove your panties, showing him how wet you are. Gyutaro gulps, staring at you like a starving animal.

"I'm ready for you, Gyu," you coo as you lay on your back, completely submitting to him.

"Wait um... can we try doggy style?"

You're kind of surprised by his request but you don't mind so you flip over and get on your hands and knees.

Gyutaro would actually love to watch your face contort as he fucks you, but he chose doggy style because he doesn't want you to see him while he does it. Even after everything you've said to him his insecurities are still there. And a part of him fears that if you see his dick then you'll change your mind about this. He's not the biggest, but he definitely isn't small either. The size is actually really nice, but he's so insecure that he can't see that. But the worst part is the birthmarks, he feels like his dick looks like he has some type of venereal disease even though he doesn't. So he figures it'd be best if you just didn't see it at all.

Once you're in the doggy position he feels comfortable enough to pull down his boxers. You feel the sticky, leaking tip nudge against you as he positions himself.

His brows furrow in frustration as he tries to find the right spot, his inexperience showing.

"Here, let me help you," you say in a sweet tone as to not upset him or sound judgmental. Though he's still a bit embarrassed anyway.

Reaching between your legs, you grasp his shaft and gently guide him inside of you. Once he's an inch or two inside, he gets too excited and fully thrusts forward. Jolting his needy cock into your gummy walls. You yelp in response while Gyutaro moans loudly.

"F-Fuck... ngh Y/N, you feel so goddamn good," he groans in pleasure as he tightens his grasp on your hips.

After a moment of stillness, he starts thrusting when he feels like he won't cum immediately. But it's not long before that sensation comes back.

Only after a few thrusts, do you feel a warmth spread inside of you as you feel Gyutaro's thighs begin to shake.

"Did you- did you cum?" Surprised, you look back at him to see the blissful expression on his face.

But your words quickly snap him out of it, "Shit... m'sorry," he pants, obviously feeling ashamed and embarrassed, "I-I didn't mean to cum so fast."

He quickly shoves his dick back in his boxers, trying to hide his shame as he hangs his head and refuses to look you in the eye. The only chance he got to have sex, he ruined it by cumming too fast like the incel that everyone says he is. He looks down at the writing on his body, starting to feel like all of those insults from earlier are justified.

Seeing the shift in his mood, you quickly put your panties back on and hug him. "Hey it's ok, it was your first time. That just means we'll have to do it more so you can get used to it."

"R-Really? You don't think I'm pathetic...?" he whimpers in disbelief.

"Of course not, I still had a lot of fun," you smile and kiss his cheek, "Maybe I can stay the night and we can try again in the morning."

"I'd fucking love that."

[earlysunshines]

order for delivery!

pham hanni x fem!reader

synopsis: hanni is a terrible multi-tasker and it's very evident when her phone is in between her ear and shoulder while she orders delivery. she's messily figuring out what to tackle on her calendar first as she mumbles her order, what lecture notes to go over, when her midterms fall---and oops, she just said 'love you, bye' to the worker on the other end of the phone.

warnings: none(?) i think it's just rly silly and cute and fluffy ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: ugh she's so cute and such a loser and UGH anyways i wrote this so quickly but maybe that's because i love thsi fic so much it was so so so fun to write omfg ENJOY!!

hanni is a terrible multitasker, it only ends up in her getting things mixed up and done slower. still, she does it anyway.

her phone is tucked awkwardly between her ear and shoulder, fingers tapping at the laptop keyboard while scrolling through lecture notes. “uh, yeah… chicken lo mein with extra chicken… and um also…” she squinted at the calendar on her screen. “what was i supposed to— oh, right… midterm next wednesday. right, cool.”

on the other end you listened patiently, smiling to yourself and holding back a small giggle as she mumbled half an order while clearly being busy with other things.

“wait, sorry!” she apologizes quickly, realizing she hadn’t ordered what minji and haerin had asked for. “also six steamed pork dumplings— no, twelve please. shrimp fried rice and… wait, i already said that, right? ugh—anyway, just, yeah, add that too.”

you ring it all up, smiling wider. “anything else?”

there’s a brief moment of silence until you hear, “huh? oh, no, that’s it.” she replies absentmindedly. she had been paying no attention at all, flipping through her notes and muttering to herself quietly about what she needed to review before the weekend. “uh, yeah, thanks—love you, bye.”

another beat of silence passes before you chime in, voice playful. “love you too.”

you could practically hear her freeze, the realization hits her. you hear a gasp on the other end of the phone, sharp and followed by a small curse.

‘w-wait, what?” hanni stammers, cheeks heating up like crazy. everything hanni had been bombarded with halts. her hands freeze on the laptop, her phone almost slips from her shoulder, and the papers she had been holding with the other hand have all landed on teh counter. everything hanni had been thinking about—midterm wednesday, lecture notes, module 2.2, chapter three reading—dissapear from her mind in a blink.

she hears a laugh on the other end, then a voice that sends a shiver down her spine. 

“your total is $28.41, by the way.”

“god, i’m sorry.” hanni rushes out the apology, face palming herself. “i didn’t mean it— not that i don’t love you! well, i mean, i don’t know you, so i don’t love you. not that i hate you! no hard feelings. i’m not saying you’re— okay i’m, i’m going to go. bye. thank you. sorry.”

hanni presses the red button on her phone, ending the call and cringing to herself. hanni is more than glad that her friends in the living room hadn’t heard the most embarassing phonecall of her life. if any of them were to witness it, she’d never live it down. her cheeks are fuming against her hand; she’s a mess, she really needs to stop tackling twelve things at once even though it brings her some type of comfort—less chaos during lots of chaos makes it seem like something manageable.

she clicks through a bunch of tabs, skims through a few lines on her paper, and then closes her laptop. she does this while being distracted by the whole one minute interaction from earlier, shooting herself in the head mentally everytime she thinks of it.

less than twenty minutes later, the delivery guy shows up. hanni knows it’s not the person on the phone, because when the man speaks, it’s not the same voice that sent a weird shiver down her spine when she realized they said “love you too” back to her.

she takes the two bags over to her living room, setting them down in front of two ravenous students—otherwise known as her best friends danielle and minji—watching their eyes sparkle just from the sight. she rolls her eyes at them, sitting down against her small couch and leaning against as they waste no time to dig in and unbox.

hanni’s the last one to reach in and grab something to munch on—mistake number one. mistake number two is catching minji furrowing her brows at a piece of paper, pickiing it up and reading, instead of stopping her before she can do any of that.

her best friend reads it outloud in a confused tone: “i put two extra fortune cookies in there,” minji begins, danielle scoots over to read too. “hope your fortune is as sweet as your voice. love, the girl you don’t hate, but don’t love :(“

“p.s. you sound cute when you’re caught off guard ;-)”

minji finishes reading, and then the two of her friends look up, staring down hanni.

“hanni, what’s this?”

“i— give me that!” hanni says, face burning up. she swipes the paper from minji’s hand, looking at the paper and covering it with her hand like her friends hadn’t just read it together. she cringes, closing her eyes and falling down on teh floor. “i’m an idiot.”

“hanniiiiii” danielle whines, scooting over to shake her by her shoulders while she’s on the floor. “what’s that about? do you have an admirer or something?”

“i can’t tell you, i just, i’m so stupid.”

“dude, what?” minji questions, completely ignoring the steaming, delicious food on the coffee table. “explain—now.”

hanni feels her heart beating like crazy, then she gives in and sits up. her face is most definitely beet red, maybe even worse when she glances at the note again.

“i accidentally said ‘love you, bye’ to the worker on the phone.” hanni says quietly, shaking her head. “and she said it back.”

“she what?” danielle and minji say in unison, looking at her in disbelief.

hanni lets out a weird noise, overwhelmed and flustered beyond words. she looks down at the note again through the spaces in her fingers as she covers her face, not noticing any name or anything that might lead to another encounter with the mystery girl on the other end of the line. this disappoints her a bit, but even if she were to have a name or number or anything, she wouldn’t be able to face you. 

after getting teased to death, the trio indulges in food after a very long and tiring study session. the conversation shifts to annoying professors, upcoming midterms, plans for when they all have free time—but hanni is still thinking of you, oddly enough.

—

a little over a week from that day, hanni orders takeout again. she’s somehow forgotten (for the most part) her embarrassing interaction, probably because her midterm is tomorrow and she’s completely forgotten to eat. her phone sits in between her shoulder and ear again, head tilted awkwardly to rush out an order. 

“alpha waves, altruism, anorexia nervosa… shit, sorry. um yeah, i’d like six steamed dumplings please, pork. umm… chow mein— no, scratch that. shrimp fried rice please.” her words are hurried out her mouth as she furrows her brows at her laptop screen, clicking through slides and trying to comprehend two units of psychology in one night. “that’s it, thank you, love you.”

hanni stops in place, frozen in shock. there is no way.

“wow, you must be smitten, huh?” she hears on the end of the line, followed by a small chuckle. “love you too, ‘hp.’” hanni had never used her full name when ordering things, well, only food. she always had this fear of sharing her legal name unless it was for unconsumable orders. “your total is $14.89 by the way.” 

you hear a groan on the end of the line, followed by what sounds like pens and pencils hitting the floor.

“...you alright?”

hanni, caught off guard by the whole conversation for the most part, but also the fact that you noticed how she had just spilled half her supplies onto her apartment floor, answers with a simple, “yeah.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“i’m really sorry, again, for the… you know.”

“your undying love for me?”

“what?” hanni says, completely disregarding the pens, pencils, and highlighters on the floor. “i- no! no. i’m not in love with you! i didn’t mean it—”

“i’m teasing, hp.” she hears the smile in your voice. “would you like an extra fortune? last time i had heard from you i remember something about a midterm.”

“you remembered?” it sounds a little pathetic, maybe desperate coming from hanni, but hanni couldn’t care less. she’s tired, overwhelmed, and has gone over so much work in the span of a few days that she really can’t think or function correctly.

“yeah, not many people sound as young as you. it’s usually a parent or something ordering for their family at this time. plus, you made my shift.” you confess, “i thought it was cute, you know, how frantic you had ordered your meal.”

“i’m really sorry about that, like seriously, i’m really, really sorry.”

“it’s okay hp.”

“right, yeah. i uh, i have to study. sorry— i don’t know why i’m saying sorry, ugh, sorry. thanks, bye.”

“no ‘love you?’” you ask, and before hanni can answer you respond, “kidding. i’ll throw in two fried wontons, have a good night hp.”

the call ends and hanni blinks a few times as she tries to process what just happened. she’s embarrassed beyond words, just as flustered too. there might even be a blush on her cheeks, she can’t stop thinking about how smooth you were with your teasing, plus the way your voice sounded. 

hanni thinks it’s the midterm getting to her, the stress. she cleans up the mess on the floor and goes through her vocabulary notes. she hears a knock on the door twenty minutes later which makes her jump in her seat.

she grabs the bag of fried rice and dumplings, placing it on the counter before taking everything out. hanni hears her stomach rumble a bit, she definitely underestimated how hungry she was.

before hanni digs in, she notices two fortune cookies and a note at the bottom. she completely ignores the cookies, grabbing the note and opening it up to see the same small handwriting from last time:

“i’m guessing your initials are hp? i could be wrong… 

hp like harry potter? it makes sense because you’re magical.

good luck on your midterm! hopefully you’ll order for a post-midterm celebration.

p.s. there are extra fried wontons ;p”

hanni smiles as she reads the note. pause. hanni stops smiling immediately when she becomes aware of the fact that she’s smiling because of a note. a note from a mystery woman on the other end of the line.

—

midterms are over, all of them. hanni had gone through all four midterms. all four. hanni’s burnt out to oblivion, finding comfort in her bed as soon as she gets back from her last midterm. she checks her messages and is greeted by the groupchat she’s in with danielle and minji.

minji: FINALLY i feel like a fish that’s been gutted out it’s not even finals lowk wasn’t even that bad actually how about you guys

danielle: my midterm is in an hour!  wish me luck :D how was yours hanni?

hanni: i’m about to PASS OUT why did i choose forensics

minji: because you’re a nerd don’t let one biology midterm screw you over who’s going to take care of my body parts when i suddenly get murdered

danielle: woah quite a situation, no?

hanni: uagghshhskafhjk i’m going to sleep GOODNIGHT do you guys want to come over later dani do you need time to unwind before you come over

danielle: no that’s alright! i find your apartment quite cozy i’ll just crash there right after, thanks han okay i’m going to review a bit more wish me luck!

minji: good luck mo dani!! you can do it  we love you

hanni: good luck! you’ve got this

danielle:  ❤️

hanni smiles at danielle’s message, she’s always so positive—even through text, even during these trying times. she decides to pass out for almost two hours, waking up groggy and finding herself almost tripping all the way back to her couch in the living room. she sighs as she collapses onto the cushions, waiting for minji and danielle to come over.

then her thoughts race back to you, embarassingly enough. she thinks about your stupid flirting, your stupid voice, and the stupid giggle she could hear through the phone. she thinks about how stupid she is for smiling, how stupid she is. everything is stupid.

hanni is fantasizing about some random person she’s ordered affordable chinese food from, she doesn’t even know her name. 

(hanni’s brain is mush.)

instinctively, she goes through her recent calls, dialing the number of the restaurant that serves her favorite dumplings. 

it rings for a few seconds before someone answers, “hello?”

the voice isn’t familiar whatsoever, hanni feels a strange discomfort in her stomach. 

hanni doesn’t realize that she hasn’t spoken a word until the second “hello?” is uttered. she breaks from her trance.

“hi, hello, yeah, hi.”

“hello, what can i get you?”

hanni purses her lips before replying, “oh, um.” she sounds like a sad child. “fried rice, i’ll do chicken. wontons, fried, twelve of them. could i also get beef-broccoli lo mein?”

she hears nothing for about three seconds, then a hum. “got it, could i get a name for that order?”

“hp.” 

“y/n’s ‘hp?’” who the hell is y/n? hanni thinks to herself. 

“what?”

“nevermind.” the worker says with her monotone voice. “will that be it?”

“yeah, thank you.” hanni doesn’t say ‘love you’ this time. she tells herself it’s because she’s not preoccupied with at least three things in that same moment, but a part of it is because it’s not the same voice that she had been expecting to hear. “what’s the total?”

“$24.12. it’ll be over in a little more than twenty minutes.”

“okay, thank you.” hanni says, and instead of hearing something snarky back—she hears a hum, and then the call ends.

…

you walk into work later than usual, one of your midterms had been pushed a bit later, so your hours were cut off. 

as you walk in, you catch your coworker’s head snap up. as soon as she realizes it’s you, she relaxes a bit.

“good evening haerin!” you beam, somehow upbeat and lively even after your grueling calculus midterm. “miss me?”

“just had to take more calls than i ever do in one week.” she sighs, watching you move over behind the counter and push your bag under the desk. “so maybe a little.”

“awww, you missed me so much.”

“shut up.” haerin groans, sitting down in the little chair where no customers can catch her. “you know what you missed?”

“what?”

“your girlfriend called—miss hp.”

“hp?!” you say it like you’ve just missed the train that comes every two hours. “seriously? did she say ‘love you?’”

“of course that’s what you’re so animated about.” haerin rolls her eyes at you, shrugging. “she didn’t.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips, a very exaggerated one for that matter. then you frown, sitting down in the spinny chair nearby and rotating yourself in your seat like a little kid.

“i can’t believe i missed her.”

“you’re actually insane for flirting with a customer.”

“she has a cute voice.”

“you don’t even know her y/n.” haerin scoots over, but only to flick you in the forehead. she leans back in her seat, smirking. you rub your skin and pout at her, making her roll her eyes once more before she continues on, “she could be old, crinkly, and married or something. what if she’s like… balding? what if her teeth are falling out and she—”

“why are you assuming the worst haerin. you’re so— whatever. she sounds my age, i guess. it’s just fun to mess around, it’s cute.”

“i will never get you.” your coworker crosses her arms, jumping at the sound of the phone ringing. “could you get that? i’ve run out of social battery.”

“it’s a phone call haerin.”

“talking to you drained me already.”

you frown, making her giggle at you.

—

the next time hanni calls is two days later, because she’s a loser that can’t seem to get the thought of the chinese restaurant employee who keeps flirting with her (albeit smoothly) out of her head. the phone rings twice, then someone picks up, and hanni waits eagerly.

“hi, pledis plates, how can i help?” it’s you, it’s you. the memory of hearing ‘y/n’s hp?’ pops up in her head—could you be y/n? you have to be.

“hi.” hanni says simply, biting the inside of her lip. she hears a small chuckle on the other end of the line, slightly relieved.

“if it isn’t hp.” it comes out cheeky, making hanni blush. “missed you, you know?”

“what?”

“did you miss me too?”

“i–” yes. hanni did miss you, not like she’d admit it, at least out loud. “i’d like to order dumplings.”

“harsh.” you respond jokingly, “six, pork, and steamed, got it.”

“you memorized it?” 

“you ordered it last time.”

hanni can’t help but laugh, smiling as she holds the phone against her ear. “you must be head over heels to be remembering my order.”

“you’re the one who confessed first though?”

“that was a mistake.”

“uh huh.” amusement is laced in your tone. “it’ll be five dollars, should be there in less than twenty.”

“great.”

 hanni doesn’t know what else to say. you both pause, letting silence and the faint static ring in your ears.

“what happened to the usual goodbye?”

hanni feels herself shrinking in her bed, feet kicking slightly, blush forming. god, she’s head over heels, she’s insane, she doesn’t know a single thing about you other than the fact that you have a really endearing voice and that your flirting is enough to have her smiling like an idiot.

“thanks, bye.” neither of you hang up after hanni says it, knowing there’s something missing. hanni pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling her stomach closing in on herself and simultaneously doing a flip. her heart nearly jumps out of her chest as she chokes out, “love you.”

“i was waiting for that one.”

“a-are you— really?”

“yeah.” you simply state, and you say nothing else but, “bye hp.”

“you’re not going to say it back?”

you grin to yourself. hanni hears a small, amused laugh fromthe other end, sending a shiver down her spine. “i don’t fold that easy, maybe next time.” you hang up right after, leaving hanni dumbfounded.

hanni looks at her phone like you’re going to call back, but you don’t. she drops the phone on her bed, putting both hands over her face and feeling her skin burn against her palms. she groans, then groans again, and sighs finally. 

maybe next time. there’s going to be a next time—hanni has that at least.

—

hanni calls again the next monday, around two days after the last call. it’s the same day she had first said the infamous ‘love you’ to you on accident. she calls at around the same time, laptop on her lap as she taps lightly on the backspace key, though not enough to actually press it. she wonders to herself for a moment, is the dent in her wallet really worth it? has she really reached rock bottom?

“pledis plates, what would you like to order?”

it’s not you. hanni sinks into the cushion of her couch and feels herself deflate. she can’t always call with the assumption that you’ll pick up, there are other employees after all. this time, it’s the same monotone voice she had heard before, a stark contrast to your flirtatious, lively tone.

“hi, i’d just like—”

“ah, hp.”

“how did you—”

“i remember your voice from last time. y/n was quite sad when she realized she’d missed your call by twenty minutes.”

“what do you mean?”

“she came into work late, midterms or something.”

midterms. the information alone gives her the assumption that you’re also in college, maybe even in her grade, and if she’s pushing it maybe you even go to her university. she conjures up a better picture of you now, not quite clear or concrete, but it’s something.

“is she a student?”

“i don’t know if i can leak that, she told me to be very secretive about her. i don’t think you’ll have trouble finding out more though, she never shuts up.”

hanni snickers, so you’re a talker too. yeah, hanni’s into that.

“well now i know her name.”

“do what you will with that.” the girl mutters. hanni hears a small sigh, then another response, “hey, y/n was curious about you. are you in high school?”

“what— no! do i sound like it?”

“you sound young.” the girl on the end of the line—haerin—shrugs. she continues, “y/n thinks you’re the same age as her, she also assumes you’re cute. i guess no one will know until a miracle happens.”

“i can’t tell if you’re insulting me.” hanni chuckles awkwardly, but haerin doesn’t respond.  “but if it helps, anyway, i’m a sophomore in college. tell her i’m interested in forensics.”

“okay.”

silence follows again, but haerin hasn’t hung up, and hanni still holds the phone against her ear expecting something more. hanni decides to take another step, asking, “y/n, how is… could you like, describe her?”

“physically or…? well, i can do a brief description. to start off: annoying, jokes a lot, pretends to be all mopey when insulted. physically: taller than me—i’d say taller than a lot of women. she has a nice smile i guess, but it’s the kind you want to wipe off her face, ugh, it’s like she’s making fun of you when she does it. her hair is also always a little messy, she says its for the ‘appeal,’ but i see none.”

hanni fights back a giggle. this woman has just spilled a good amount, a perfect amount in hanni’s eyes (any amount is alright, anything more than a name). this ‘y/n’ is tall, taller than most women, and hanni is shorter than most; hanni is into that, she loves taller girls. and messy hair too? that’s cute, probably. as long as it’s not the same type of messy that men rock around—men that barely shower or do anything. essentially: compsci majors—then hanni will be alright. you sound wonderful.

“did you want to order anything? or are did you just want to flirt with the idiot.”

“hey! hey, hey. lets not— ugh, okay, could i just get um, six pork dumplings—steamed.”

“okay.” the girl says quietly, and then hanni hears some light tapping. “six dumplings for hp.”

“hanni. it’s hanni. my name is hanni.”

“got it the first time.”

“you’re bright, aren’t you?”

“your order is going to be there later, bye.” and then the girl hangs up, leaving hanni speechless.

—

hanni waits a few days to call, because she doesn’t remember dialing on tuesdays or wednesdays and hearing a voice that brings her a little thrill. she leans against her counter waiting for a response, then lights up when she hears,

“pledis plates, how can i help?”

“y/n.” hanni says, almost relieved. “hi.”

“hi hanni.” your coworker must’ve leaked that conversation, hanni thinks. “nice to hear from you.”

“likewise.”

“can i get six dumplings? pork and—”

“---steamed, yes.” you’re smiling as you say it, like an eager little child. “nothing else?”

“no.”

“alright.” you respond, clicking two tabs and ringing up her order. you don’t give her the cost or anything, staring at the screen and deciding to huff out, “forensics?” you’re starting a real conversion now, what a step.

hanni is smiling hard, she’s so giddy that she’s twirling a piece of hair around her pointer finger. 

“yeah, i think it’s nice.”

“cute.” you mumble, “i’m studying kinesiology.”

“is that so?”

“unfortunately.” you say lightheartedly. hanni doesn’t know what to respond with, she wants to continue the conversation and hear your voice longer, but there’s nothing she can think of. does she ask for your number? how you are? hanni is useless, she’s always been useless when it came to girls.

“hanni?”

“y-yes?” hanni cringes at the slight stutter.

“your total is five dollars. it’ll be there soon.”

“oh,” hanni says sadly, “i mean, um. okay.”

and then she hangs up, a little defeated, but there’s always a next time…right?

when her food gets there, she hurriedly pays the delivery driver, making her wallet cry even more. there’s a note in the bag, along with two fortune cookies. the note has your name and a number on it, making hanni gasp and smile to herself again. there’s a little ‘text me, miss hanni. i’m looking forward to it.’ and as soon as hanni reads it, she clasps her hands together, squeals quietly into them, giggles, and kicks her feet in the air.

hanni tries to do some schoolwork, managing to get ten minutes of reading down, a few sentences jotted down, and then the rest of the time she’s thinking about her new saved contact. she hasn’t texted you yet, mainly because she had been overthinking about what and when to text you. she contemplates texting danielle and minji about it, but she’d just be teased. 

this is the first time in a while since hanni’s gotten anywhere close to something romantic, or maybe this is platonic, but the flirting doesn’t support that idea. she’s tried tinder—once, once and never again—and going to parties. nothing works out, none of them make her giddy and giggly like this. 

before she knows it, two hours have passed, and so she decides to send a simple “hi, this is hanni!’ 

too enthusiastic? too bland? too basic? ugh. hanni groans, lying on her couch in an uncomfortable position.

you reply almost immediately with ‘hey, i’m off in twenty minutes. let’s call?’ and hanni has to put the phone to her chest, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.

twenty minutes passes by too quickly, hanni hasn’t even figured out what to say. she looks at her phone, waiting for you to call, and when you do, she short circuits; hanni drops her phone on her face.

“hello?” it’s you.

it’s you.

“hey. um, how was work?”

“aw, even asking me about work.” she can hear the smirk in your tone, rolling her eyes as she smiles to herself. “it was fine, my favorite part was when this girl ordered pork dumplings though. she has a cute voice.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. hey, can i ask you something?”

“what is it?”

“i work tomorrow, but its the morning shift. i end at one, i was you know… wondering if you… wanted…” you sound nervous, this is a first for hanni. “if you wanted to share some dumplings, free of charge.”

hanni covers her mouth almost immediately, suppressing any signs of her freaking out.

“are you asking me out?”

“only if you say yes.”

you hear a giggle before you hear a “yes.”

“really?”

“mhm.” hanni smiles again, thinking of something that’ll leave you just as flustered. “okay, well… i’ll see your tomorrow. bye, love you.”

“love you too hanni.”

—

minji’s usually the one who picks up orders if it’s not delivery, and hanni is almost always taking the orders. so when hanni enters the shop for the first time, she’s quite fond of the smell of ingredients being stir fried or steamed, as well as the interior of the place. it’s very nice inside, hopefully the nice person she’s been meaning to see shows up soon.

there’s a girl by the counter, she’s only slightly taller than hanni, and her eyes are oddly cat-like. she looks up at her with those eyes, then shoots a small smile.

“hi, how can i help?” this is who the monotone voice belongs to. her image somehow matches perfectly with the voice.

“hi, i’m hanni.” as soon as she introduces herself, the workers eyes widen.

“woah, you’re real.”

“surprising, i know.”

“y/n is changing in the back—she was eager to get off fives minutes early so she wouldn’t be in uniform when you showed up.” haerin explains, shaking her head. “it’s nice to meet you, you’re very pretty.”

“thank you! i appreciate it. you’re pretty as well.”

haerin doesn’t get to respond. the person who does respond is the girl walking up to the register, scooting haerin to the side with her knuckles and tapping at the screen. the girl isn’t in uniform, and she’s also really good looking. 

you run a hand through your hair as you clock out through the system. “hey, did hanni ever stop by?” you ask haerin, not looking up from the screen because you’ve typed your code in wrong. 

“look up idiot.” your coworker snickers, and when you do, you’re met with the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

you notice her right away, hair flowing down past her chest, curtain bangs perfectly framing her face. her plump lips and striking features make you pause. sure, you expected her to be pretty—maybe even conventionally attractive, everyone is in their own way—but seeing her in person? she’s beyond that, practically model material. my god. your lips part slightly in surprise, and you catch yourself, quickly swallowing as you both smile at each other at the same time.

you clock out—thankfully not typing in the wrong code again from nervousness—and step out from behind the counter. a small tote bag hangs from your shoulder, and a plastic bag dangles in your hand. you glance down at it.

“twelve dumplings—steamed, pork, everything you like—for the pair.”

hanni’s smile lights up her face, and you can't help but think about how adorable she looks, how effortlessly charming she is.

“why thank you,” she says, her voice soft and playful. it sounds better in person than through the phone.

“you’re gorgeous, by the way,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, still marveling at her. “like, i expected you to be pretty, but… wow.” you can tell haerin is fake gagging or rolling her eyes or something like that from behind, she’s probably already on her way to avoid witnessing this interaction.

hanni blushes instantly, the red creeping up her cheeks. if she were at home, she’d probably be giggling and kicking her feet, but for now, she just looks away shyly, smiling. “thanks, you’re really cute too.”

“you think?”

“yes.” she meets your eyes, still flushed. “can we eat? i’m hungry.”

“right, yeah. i hope it’s not too forward, but is the park nearby good? we can settle down and, um… talk more. you know, more than just about your usual order.”

hanni laughs—you might die right then and there—before responding, “that’s perfect,” and then she nods, looking at you. her eyes are soft and warm and wonderful.

“great,” you echo.

“great,” she repeats, a small laugh escaping her.

you both walk side by side, still a little stiff at first, the mutual attraction between you creating an unspoken tension. but as you settle into the rhythm of conversation, the initial awkwardness fades away, replaced by the easy flow of natural chemistry. each step feels lighter, the distance between you shrinking with every passing word.

—

—

—

hanni hears a knock at her door, confused because she hadn’t expected any guests other than minji and danielle—who are already in her living room leeching off her netflix account. 

she opens it to see you, which immediately brings a smile to her face. she almost leaps over to hug you, nearly making you drop the large bag in your hand.

“someone missed me.”

“shut up.” hanni says before pecking your lips. she looks at you, your dorky, adorable face, and then presses another longer kiss. “come in babe. i didn’t expect you to be here.”

“i got off early because i had to cover. i wanted to surprise you, and i know you had company over.”

“oh yeah,” hanni had almost forgotten that her best friends had been there.

she leads you over, helping you take off your tote and setting it on her counter. her friends catch the two of you from their peripheral and wave, then their eyes light up at the sight of the familiar bag in your hand. you set it down, placing a the container of fried rice, lo mein, and dumpling down as they treat you like a savior.

“thank you so much, i owe you my first born.” danielle says, giving you a playful pout.

minji snickers, scooting up to the coffee table. “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us—to hanni.”

you look over to your girlfriend, that’s right, she’s your girlfriend. hanni is rolling her eyes at you, pushing your shoulder, and then pulling you in by the wrist to sit next to her. she’s not one for pda—especially in front of danielle and minji—but under the table her fingers graze your skin, which makes you smile.

you grab a secret container from behind your back, handing it to hanni. when she opens it, she opens her mouth, shocked and grateful for the six steamed pork dumplings that you brought just for her.

[c0tt0ncandi]

💜 A Sunday Kinda Love.💜

Hey y'all!! So Sinners has temporarily pulled me out of retirement. Forgive my writing I'm a little rusty.

Parings: Stack x OC feat. Smoke x Annie.

Word count: A Lot. 😭

Warning: Just a 🤏🏽 Mary shade, protective Smoke, and Annie being perfect per usual. Pretty fluffy. It's a pretty long one shot so I'd grab a blanket and something to snack on.

A/N: I wrote and edited this on my phone so PLEASE forgive any mistakes or weird spacing. Please don't steal my picture or story. I worked really hard on this and I hope you guys love it. 🫶🏽 I'm really sensitive y'all so be kind. Please?! 🙏🏽😭

Summary: Stack is looking for love, but can he find what his brother has? The women he's interested in just aren't cutting it and he's not sure if "sweet" is quite what he's looking for yet. Or is it?

Lena walked home from the market in her yellow dress and two braids laid against her scalp on a breezey April day. Spring was her favorite time of year. She loved being outside and leaving her windows open while she read her favorite books or napped. Others called her crazy for leaving her windows opened, but the breeze flowing in between her curtains was relaxing and kept her cool. Besides Lena's place was protected by her friend Annie's magic. She sometimes traded her pastries for protection. That's all Lena really wanted. No money spells and no love spells. Nothing more than protection and safety for her and her home.

It was just Lena so it wasn't that smart to leave the windows opened, but as of now she was safe living alone with nobody, but her, Annie's protection, and her baseball bat.

Lena took a seat at an empty park bench in front of a pond and put her bags down next to her. She had two chapters left in the book and she just had to finish it. The walk home was probably seven minutes away from the park and twenty from the market, but she didn't mind taking a quick reading break today.

"Aye one of these days someone is going to rock your shit and I can't help you. Stack your mouth is going to get you in trouble and so is fucking married women!" Smoke hollard at his brother as he furiously drove to his and Annie's house. His brother was definitely a ladies man, but he took it too far. A good woman was hard to find so taking one from a man that went in front of the congregation and said I do is a death sentence in his eyes. If anyone even stepped to Annie or attempted to talk to his wife he had no qualms of shooting him right then and there. He's done it before and he'll do it again.

Stack sucked his teeth as he brushed his brother off. "Ain't no nigga steppin' to me about shit. Especially not about his bitch."

His brother shot a look at him before focusing back on the road. "Keep calling them bitches especially field bitches and imma knock yo ass out myself. Our mama was a black woman in the field too so you disrespect them you disrespecting her. Another thing if they bitches why you keep fucking them and riskin' your life for some already owned pussy?"

"You preachin' this bullshit to me while you got someone to lay in bed with. Spend your nights and mornins with, cook for you, suck your dick, and live happily ever after with! What do I got, huh?!"

"Nigga I should bust you upside yo' head. You look for sex not a relationship! You look for temporary not forever. You look for those loose girls that want what you want and get mad when they get you before you can get them! I'm surprised yo dick ain't burning right now."

"Well my bad brother. Not everyone can find their forever at 15." Stack sucked his teeth as he looked at his surroundings passing by.

"Every fuckin' excuse in the mother fuckin' book."

Silence rang louder than the engine on their way home.

"I want you to find your own Annie. Not that white skinned broad either. Fucking with her will get yo black ass lynched. They don't give a fuck that she's got that one drop of nigger. She looks like them and she lives like them."

Stack shook his head. "She don't know the word no. Plus her ass can't cook. She turned her nose up to collard greens and measured her sugar for sweet tea."

They both broke the tension with a shared laugh.

Lena had finished her book and it was the perfect ending. The guy got the girl and they lived a happy life after. It was everything she wanted and more. Lena walked home with a smile and a new tune playing in her heart. She couldn't wait to get home and put some music on while she soaked in the bathtub.

As she was walking home a red Model T came zooming past her. Now Lena was a sturdy girl, but they almost knocked her over with the speed they were going. Lena collected her balance and continued walking home.

Stack's head flew back to the thick brown skinned woman in yellow walking by. He wanted Smoke to stop the car, but his brother had just lectured him about woman so he kept his mouth shut. Hopefully he would run into her when he was by himself. She was mighty fine and plenty thick and he didn't want Smoke to blow it for him.

Lena woke up to the sound of birds chirping, her fan slowly blowing, and car horns going off miles away. She stretched out her arms and sat up as she expressed her gratitude for waking up today. Hopeful for a good day Lena got up and headed to the restroom to start her day.

Stack rolled his eye and squeezed the pillow over his ears. No breakfast, no talking, no good morning just Annie's moans and a squeaky headboard. He was happy for his brother, but damn. Every morning? He wanted his own Annie. She was his brother's world. It would sometimes dawn on him that she was his other half. Sure sometimes it made him jealous because as a twin that should've his role, but that was the point of finding your soulmate and partner, right?

He got himself ready for the morning. As he was leaving the bathroom a glowing Annie walked out in a robe with his brother following behind her. He on the other hand looked like she gave him the ride of his life. Tank top was slightly ripped, lips swollen, and a bit of a limp.

Stack wanted to be jealous and mad about it, but he couldn't do anything but laugh. "She to' yo ass up!" His head dropped back with laughter as Annie tucked her head away into Elijah's neck.

Elijah wrapped his arms around his wife and shrugged with a small smile. "Worked me up an appetite. I'm starvin." He groaned into her ear before placing a slap to her ass.

Stack walked into the kitchen and shook his head. "Y'all real annoyin'."

Lena had her hair out. She noticed the aftermath of taking the braids out caused cute chunky curls to frame her face. She slipped her earrings in and put on her white sneakers. She had thrifted a cute red and white polka dotted dress that stopped above her ankles, an anklet that she made with old earrings and cute trinkets sat on her ankle. She threw on a little lipstick and rubbed her body down with some butters that she made herself. Lena grabbed her satchel, keys, and a new book that she started on last night and she headed out the door.

Lena needed to grab a few things from Grace and to return a book today to the library. Just a walk a few minutes shy of twenty minutes.

"Hey Lena!" The older gentleman a few minutes from her house greeted as he took his hat off to address the young woman. "I have some extra apples from my tree. Do you mind cooking me up a pie? I got whatever ingredients you needen to make it."

"No problem, Mr. Willie. When do you need it?" She asked never stopping her stride.

"No rush! Sunday morning after church would be perfect though."

"Throw in a few squash and a head of cabbage and I'll make you two pies. That sound good?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll drive them to your house later on today."

"I'll be back. Heading into town. Probably gonna stop by Chow's. Y'all need anything?" Stack asked as he fixed his hair and adjusted his cuff links.

"What you want for dinner tonight?" Annie asked as she handed Smoke his plate.

"Don't really matter to me long as it's meat and potatoes."

Annie shook her head with a smile. "Pot roast it is."

"With Sweet tea?"

"Anything for you Elias."

"Love you, sis!" He shouted before he headed out the door.

Lena left the library and was headed to Chow's to grab some material from Grace. Grace wanted her to make a skirt for her and Lisa this week. Lena loved working for them because they always paid well and brought her customers. The flowers in their store were from her garden. She brought some by every week. If they needed help she was usually the first person they called. If not her then it was Annie.

Lena didn't have a 9-5, but she worked just about every day. If she wasn't doing it for money it was for food or items. If someone needed help delivering a baby they called her. If someone was hurt or injured they'd usually come to her. Alterations? Flowers? Baked goods? She was the go to girl. That was also the reason many people didn't mess with her. You never bite the hand that feeds you.

"Hey, girl!" Grace greeted as she finished up with a customer.

"Hey, Lisa." Lena greeted the young girl with a smile after hugging Grace. Lisa didn't smile much, but she always smiled at and gave Lena a hug.

"Did you bring me somethin'?" She asked quietly so her mother couldn't hear.

"You already know I did." The sweet woman whispered and snuck the little girl two big chocolate chip cookies wrapped in brown parchment paper.

"Thank you!" She squealed. Her head turned towards the window and her lips perched at the sight of a tall man in red walking into her dad's shop.

"Lisa," Grace called and nudged her head towards the register. Grace walked from behind the counter and took Lena to the back.

As Stack was talking to Bo his head turned at the site of a woman with a fitted mini skirt walk in.

Bo hit his friend's shoulder and shook his head. "That's MRS. Suzette. Married to THE "one punch" Theodore."

Stack sucked his teeth. "What you do talk to Smoke? I'm just lookin'."

"That man that LOOKED at Annie got shot in the knee. These men are serious about their wives."

"You'd shoot for Grace?"

"If you even have to ask I'm not showing her enough love." Bo replied. "You need to talk to Grace's friend. She's real sweet and is a great cook."

"Ion know if I'm ready for sweet." He replied as he adjusted his collar and looked around.

It was Bo's turn to suck his teeth. "That's your problem. You keep finding someone to wet your whistle and that's it. There's more to a partner than sex. Find someone that builds you up and is there through thick and thin. Doesn't get tired of seeing your face everyday. The person you run to for comfort and vice versa. Someone you trust with your entire life. That's what Sweet gets you."

"You point her in my direction and I'll dip my tongue in it."

"Toe! The expression is toe, fool!" He playfully shoved his friend's shoulder.

Stack laughed as he placed his toothpick in his mouth.

"I'll bring these back to you by Saturday. Bye Grace. Bye Lisa."

The little girl waved as she got ready to cash out a customer.

Lena walked home with material in her bag and a few chocolates in hand. She strutted home with a tune in her head and a pep in her step.

"This girl you talking about. What she look like?" Stack asked as he picked at a few grapes that were on ice.

"She's a stacked one. Hourglass, brown eyes, and she always smells real good. She lives like 20 minutes away. She might be with Lisa now. Peak ya head in and see if she in there. She's supposed to be making them some dresses or something!" Bo shouted as Stack headed out of the door.

Stack headed across the street on a mission to see if said woman was still there. He was always allowed into the Chow's establishment, but her shop was mostly white people and it was usually frowned upon to have a black man shop with them. Stack really ain't give a damn.

"Grace, your thick friend still here?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Who Lena?" Her eyes widened at the realization. "Hell no. You leave her alone. She's way too good for you. She's got her head on straight. She's not one of your whores." Grace put on a smile as one of her customers asked her a question. "Ten cents." She turned her head back to Stack and started pushing him out of her store. "She already left. If you see her leave her alone. Bye Stack."

Stack snatched an apple from her stand before heading back to his car.

As he was driving he took his knife out and tried to cut his apple. He looked up last minute and swerved to avoid hitting a large rock in the road causing him to cut his hand open. "Shit!" As he looked over he saw the same girl from yesterday walking in a red dress today. "Ooohwee it must be my lucky day!" He looked at his hand " Almost lucky. This can wait" and immediately stopped his car for her

Lena was almost at her house probably less than ten minutes away when she saw that same red Model T car zooming past her only this time it swerved and abruptly stopped ahead. It started to back up and she saw a man turn to her. He was very handsome. Hair was neat, had a beautiful smile, nice brown eyes, and a fancy suit. His arms filled out the jacket very nicely too. He wasn't anyone she'd ever seen before, but he was a good looking man.

"Good evenin'." Stack greeted with a nod.

"Evenin'." Lena greeted sweetly.

"Where you headed? This is the second day I've seen you walking. You must live close by, no?"

Her head cocked to the side as she tried to read him. "I might. This your second time seein' me? You ain't say nothin' to me the first time so why now? I wasn't good enough to stop for yesterday?" She teased.

He nervously chuckled his hand still bleeding. "No. My brother was actually driving and refused to stop." He reached over to open the door for her to get in.

Wary, she stepped back with hesitation. Although he was good looking she didn't know him. As soon as Lena was going to decline she noticed his hand was bleeding. "Your hand. That's a lot of blood. You need to put some pressure on it before you bleed out."

"Oh this?" He said as he lifted his hand "Naw it ain't that bad."

She hopped in and ripped an extra piece of fabric off that she had in her purse and wrapped it around his hand. "Put some pressure on it and move over." Lena hovered her body over his to get in the driver's seat as he moved underneath her.

He bit his lip and dropped his head back at the feeling of her ass brushing up against him. She was too focused on getting him bandaged up that she didn't even notice.

Lena hadn't driven in over a year, but she remembered how to do it. For the most part. "I'm takin you to my house to fix your cut. Is that okay?"

"Yeah." He was feeling a little faint. "Got anything to drink? Anything to eat?"

"You feelin weak?" She quickly handed him her purse. "I have some chocolates. We're almost home. Just snack on that until I can get you some water."

After a few more minutes they reached her house. She stopped the car and turned it off before getting out. She grabbed her bags and headed to the door with Stack following behind.

They headed in the house and she immediately grabbed some water, an apple turnover, and her first-aid kit. "Here have a seat. Eat this first."

He quickly took a bite and was taken by surprise. "These real good." He complimented as she pulled a chair up to him and took his hand in hers. "You got some soft hands and smell good, too. Sweet."

"Thanks I made them this morning." She ignored the other two compliments. She was here to help not sweet talk with him.

"They're good. Did you hear what I said about,"

"You ought to be mo' careful. Why was your knife out while you were drivin anyways?" Lena interrupted.

"Ummm I was eating my apple."

"Eatin' and drivin'? Sounds awful dangerous especially with how fast you drive."

"I wasn't going that, OUCH!" Stack flinched and pulled back.

"Don't be a baby. A big strong man like ya self squealin over some alcohol?" She lowered her head to his hand that sat on his lap and gently blew on his cut. Lena gazed up at him as he looked down at her.

His eyes dark and focused on her.

"Better?" She asked above a whisper.

"Y- yeah." His eyes watched as she efficiently and delicately stitched him up.

She hummed a soft lullaby as she grabbed a bandage and a pair of scissors. Lena clipped at the extra stitching and followed up with a secure bandage. "There. You all stitched up." She finished with a satisfied smile. Her eyes big and soft. Safe.

"Thanks." His hand still in hers.

Stack felt something but didn't know what he was feeling. He was happy. He was in awe. He was calm, but turned on, but not like usual. He wanted to get to know her. To be around her. She had him mesmerized.

He looked around the house and although it was small and filled with a lot personality it was neat. "Looks like you're a jack of all trade. Mind me askin what you do?"

Lena wiped her hands off and closed the kit. "If you askin what my title is I don't have one. I just do a little bit of everything for everyone. Little Lisa? I helped deliver her. Those flowers you always seein' at Bo's stores? They from my garden'. I do just about everything, but fix cars." She confessed with a giggle as she crossed her legs in front of him.

"Don't worry about that. I'm mighty handy when it comes to some wheels. I didn't see a car when we pulled up tho."

"I don't own one. Ain't no point. I don't go no further than the market." She poured two glasses of sweet tea and brought it to him.

"Thank you." He took a sip and he couldn't help but shake his head.

Lena's eyes widened at his reaction. She had the best tea on this side of town and she never heard anyone complain.

He pulled the tea back to examine it as a big smile spread across his face. "Probably the best damn tea I've ever had, but don't tell my sister Annie that."

Lena cocked her head to the side and stopped making the sandwiches to look up at him. "Annie? Moore?"

He chuckled and stood to his feet to walk over to her. "Married my brother 8 years ago. Been in our lives for 12. How you know her?"

She closed the bread to the sandwich and cut it in half. "I buy protection from her."

"You believe in it?" He asked as she handed him a plate.

"I believe in Annie. I believe she don't put her name on anything crazy. Her work been keepin' me out harms way."

Stack couldn't argue with that. She kept him and his brother protected while away at war. Hell kept him safe from some of these jealous husbands too.

He took a bit of the sandwich and stood in front of her shorter thick frame. "I should probably ask, do you have a husband?"

Lena leaned back against her table and took a bite. She shook her head. "Don't need one."

Stack chuckled, but stopped when he noticed her raise a brow.

"What's funny?"

He shook his head and wiped his mouth. "Nothin'. Just thinkin' what if someone break in? Havin' a man will protect you."

"Annie protects my home every month and the good Lord protects me everyday." She crossed her arms and looked up at him.

He smiled. "Okay. What if somethin' break?"

"My daddy taught me how to fix things. If I can't fix it Mr. Willie up the street has no problem helpin' me."

"Can't reach somethin'?"

"It's my home. I ain't puttin' somethin' somewhere I can't reach." She quipped with a small smile.

"Somethin' heavy? I'm pretty sure when you go out you need someone to help carry heavy things for you."

"I've always made a way." Lena replied.

"What about sex?" He inquired as he finished his sandwich and stepped closer.

"Sex ain't that important to me. I can handle some of that on my own." Lena replied with a raised brow. "Everything you sayin' I can find a way. Is that all you think you good fo'?" She asked. It was her turn to step closer to him. "Sex and heavy lifting?"

"And protection." He said slightly embarrassed by his answer.

"Baby, if I get a man. A husband" she said as a matter of fact. "I want him to know his worth in this world. Yes my husband can fix, lift, and lick things for me, but is he going to be there for me when I'm ill? Rub my feet when I'm pregnant? Will he support my temporary hobbies that I randomly pick up from time to time? If I'm too tired to cook is he going to make a big fuss about it or is he going to get straight to it in the kitchen? What if I'm having a bad day and don't want to talk? Are you going to be mad at me for my emotions? Will my husband speak as highly of me when I'm not around like I would do for him? Will my husband make love to more than just my body, but my mind and my soul? If I don't feel like having sex are you going to be mad and seek it out else where? I want to come home to peace and so should my husband. A healthy form of communication and respect on both ends is very important to me. I just want to make sure that if I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone I need to know he's going to be there with me every step of the way without wavering."

"I can be that." Stack answered. "I love when my woman cooks for me, but I can also throw down in the kitchen. When our baby is cryin' and you spend all day nursing I'll be the one to wake up and change em'. You want to randomly ski in this 90 degree weather I'll be the first one in line at the ski store. Hell I'll build you some myself. I can oil your scalp when you too tired to do so and I can run your bath water after a rough day. If you don't want to talk I'll sit here with you in silence until you're ready. However I'd hope you'd never get so down to where I can't hear that pretty ass voice of yours. Be a damn shame." He teased.

He closed the little bit of space between them and rested his hands on either side of her.

Lena watched his eyes scan her face. From her brown almond eyes, round cheeks, to her plump lips. He focused on her lips longer than she needed him to. Lena was no stranger to eye contact so he wasn't intimidating. She had strong will and knew no amount of flirting and flashing of his dimpled smile was going to make her fold.

His head dipped down for a kiss, but Lena moved her head to avoid his tempting lips.

He couldn't help but laugh. He'd never had someone reject his kiss before.

Lena smiled at him and took his face in her hands. "You should head home now and get some rest. It's starting to get late. Annie and your brother might be trying to figure out why you're not home yet." Her fingers played in his beard before placing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight Stack."

"Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked. Borderline begged.

"I've got a pretty busy schedule tomorrow."

"I don't have to do nothin. I can just sit around and wait until you finished. I just want to see you."

She tried to hide her smile, but failed. "I'll be wrapping my day up around 4."

He flashed his grin. "See you tomorrow at 3:30. Goodnight Ms. Lena." He tilted his hat before placing it back on his head and walking out the door.

"Nigga you said you went to Chow's bout 7 hours ago." Smoke pointed out as he finished his second plate. He got up and brought it to the sink to wash and dry.

"Damn. Was I gone that long? My bad." Stack removed his jacket and took a seat. "Where's Annie?"

"Freshin' up for bed." Smoke looked at his brother's hand. "Hell happened to you? You ain't get yo ass in no shit you can't fix, right?"

Stack had a smile on his face.

Annie walks in with her robe on comfortable and ready for bed. "Oh lawd. That boy happier than a tick on a dog. Which young lady did you pay a visit to today?" She handed him a glass of sweet tea and a plate from the stove.

"Thank you. I went to go visit the Chow's, but as I was leaving I got distracted. Ended up cutting my hand on my knife while I was driving and ran into a beautiful lady named Lena."

Annie stood straight up and scanned her brother in law. "What you doin around Lena? She a good girl that mind her business."

"If she a good girl then he ain't want nothin to do with her. Unless you sweet talked her out of her skirt like usual." Smoke assumed.

"Naw, she don't play that. She focused. Sweet girl with a lot of hobbies." Annie looked at his hand. "She stitched you up?"

Stack nodded with a smile. "Fixed me a sandwich and some tea too. We ain't do nothin but talk. That's all I wanted to do. She real nice and a little feisty. Think she'd be interested?"

Smoke scoffed, but Annie nudged his shoulder.

"Your mission to just sleep with her?" Annie asked. She took a plate of pie from Elijah and thanked him with a kiss.

Stack shook his head as he enjoyed his food. "I ain't want that once I started talkin' to her. Ion know how to explain it, but I just liked bein' 'round her. She got a good spirit I guess." He shrugged as he filled his mouth with food.

Elijah fed Annie a bit of the shared dessert. He circled the fork around in the air before asking his question. "What she look like? Must not be your type if you didn't want to have sex."

"She not my usual type, but she real pretty. Brown skin, full hair, round lips, hips, a little healthier than my usual, but that really don't bother me none. She fit it so well." He whistled. "Voice is like butter. She smell good too and got the softest pair of hands"

Annie chuckled. "That girl don't play about her perfumes and butters." She confirmed. "When you gon' see her again?"

"Tomorrow at 3:30. Said she should be done with everything around then."

"What y'all plan on doin?" Smoke asked as his brother got up for a second helping.

"Nothin." He said happily with a shrug. "I'm just goin to talk. Might see if she'll let me fix a few things around the house or somethin?"

Annie chuckled at her brother in law. He was bit by the love bug. It was no surprise though. Lena was a warm and welcoming spirit who minded her business and helped others along her way. She didn't want much just a simple and happy life. Her love hit hard so if Stack wasn't on his best behavior she would have no problem leaving him with a broken heart. Annie knew of her ex that didn't do right by her and she got rid of him. That man been in a miserable marriage with a woman he don't really want. Hadn't truly found love since she left him.

"Just be careful. She might be a good girl, but she ain't no pushover. If you screw up she'll send you on your marry way and not think twice about it." Annie confessed.

"Imma be on my best behavior." He kissed his sister in law's cheek and sat down to finish his food.

"Stack you don't have to fix that it's fine." She advised as he unscrewed the bolts in the fan. It worked the blades just happened to have one speed and that speed was slow. It was too hot and moving too slow for Stack's liking.

"Naw. It's fine. I can fix this. The motor ain't blown just probably got a little dust in the shaft that's all."

Lena sat next to him on the couch and watched as he struggled with one of the screws. She covered her giggle with her hand causing him to lose his focus and look over at her.

"This funny to you?" He put the fan down and turned to tickle her side now causing Lena to double over in laughter.

"You sweatin' on me!" She laughed as she grabbed his arms to leave some distance between them.

He sat up and sighed. "Baby, it's hot in here! I'm tryna fix this fan and you laughin'. I'm strong it's just stuck!" He said in his defense.

Lena gave a sarcastic nod. "Very strong. Need help with that last screw?"

"I'll screw you!" He mimicked under his breath.

He was just joking seeing how he was playing off of her words, but she was turned on by that. She shook it off and just cleared her throat.

He took his button up off leaving him in a tank top and a leather vest holster. His gun was strapped in and his knife at his side. Lena's eyes wondered towards him as his arms flexed once he finally got the screw loose after a few twists and turns.

"Ha!" He turned to her and noticed her direct her eyes from his arms to his face. He smirked and looked her in her eyes. "I got it out."

"I see." She replied softly. Lena moved closer to him on the couch closing in the space between them. "So what's the next step?" She asked looking up at him with those big brown eyes of hers.

Stack cleared his throat. "I umm" he looked away. "I'm just gonna clear this shaft off and put it back in." His eyes widened and his head snapped back towards her. "Back on! I meant back on!" He corrected.

Lena couldn't help but giggle at him being nervous.

He put his focus back on the task at hand and did just that while she got up to grab something to drink. The wind blew through the window causing her dress to fly up a little catching Stack's attention. "Shit." He said to himself.

"You say somethin'?" Lena asked as she headed back over to him. Hips swaying side to side and a soft smile on her face.

He shook his head. "Nothin' just that I fixed it." He put the last screw in and turned it on.

"Awww yes!" Lena cheered on as she sat down next to him. The fan was blowing faster and stronger. "Ugh that feels so good. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Told you I'm good with my hands." He grinned.

"I see." Lena playfully teased. "I know you introduced yourself to me as Stack, but what is your real name?" She asked as she leaned her elbows on her lap to look up at him.

He smiled at her beauty. "Born Elias raised as Stack."

"Elias." His name sung beautifully on her tongue. Very southern, sweet, thick, and sexy. He wouldn't get tired of it.

His eyes scanned her plump lips. He swallowed hard and adverted his eyes to his glass of tea. "Yes ma'am."

"Did you want dinner or is Annie making something for y'all back home? I don't wanna ruin ya appetite. Mrs. Annie a good cook."

"Great cook. She's making pork chops, but I can still eat here if you had planned on cooking. I don't turn no plates down." He laughed.

"I'm just making a salad with salmon croquettes for dinner. Ain't nothin too fancy."

"You say croquettes? They're one of my favorites. I can make room for both."

Weeks had gone by and Elias had been over her house almost everyday. Showing up in the morning and leaving late at night. Smoke would either pick and drop him off or he'd take the car himself. It didn't really matter how he got to her Stack was going to see her either way. Time was spent doing things Stack was never used to doing before. She enjoyed his company and same for him. He'd drive her into town even if she insisted on walking or taking her bike. They even went on a picnic by the lake a few times. Unfortunately the two of them couldn't hang out the following Saturday because she had to finish a new set of dresses for Lisa and Grace, but Lena had planned to see him the Sunday after bright and early.

"Lisa it fits? How bout you Grace?" Lena asked as she sat at their shop past closing. The two ladies came out from the back room and spun around. Smiles were shared by each lady because of how everything turned out. Lisa had a beautiful pink and gold embroidered dress that came past her ankles and Grace had a beautiful blue and gold dress that stopped a little under her knee.

"They're perfect as usual, Lena. Eight for her and ten for me, right?" She clarified as she handed Lena cash plus a small tip.

"Y'all gonna be the talk of the town. The colors fit y'all so well too." The proud craftswomen said in awe. "Lisa how you wearing your hair?" She asked. Grace always wore a low and tucked bun for formal outings, but because Lisa was younger Grace liked to do something a little more age appropriate and fun for her.

The little girl walked over to her to describe what style she and her mother were thinking about. Lena remembered that she had a few ribbons in her bag and pulled one out that matched. "How about a bow?"

Lisa's face lit up and Grace smiled. "Mama look!"

"You tell Miss. Lena thank you. She's gotta head home. You want Bo to give you a ride? He won't mind." Grace asked as she hugged Lisa tightly.

"I'm good. Thank y'all tho. It ain't a far walk. Y'all have a good night tho."

"You sure?" Grace asked again as Lena headed towards the door.

"I'm good Grace. Y'all have a good night!"

Lena walked home in the dark but she had protection on her. Her goal was never to walk home so late, however she got to Grace's later than anticipated. A little bit of the sun was still up before she left the shop so she thought it was fine however the sun set faster than Lena could walk. Purse at her side and shoes hitting the dirt road Lena heard some people talking off into the distance, but less than a minute later a male voice approach her.

"P-pardon ma'am. Where you headed looking so good this time of night?" He said a little too drunk and a little too close.

"I'm headed home thank you. Seems like your company needs you back over there, no?" She quipped as she tried to keep calm.

He threw a lazy arm towards his company. "They be alright. I'm tryna come home with you pretty lady." He stumbled backwards. "Why you diggin in that bag?" He asked stumbling again.

"Just tryna find my lipstick that all." Lena pulled out some protection powder and blew it at him causing him to scream out and fall to the ground.

She continued to walk home, but this time at a faster pace. She had to remember to tell Annie thank you for her protection powder and get some more from her because thinking about how much she blew out she definitely used more than needed. It wasn't her fault though. She panicked plus she never had to use it before, but she was glad she carried it with her.

Not even two minutes later she heard a car pulling up by her. She prayed it was Elias.

"Lena, come on and get in." Annie instructed as she sat in the passenger seat.

"Annie what are you doin on my side of town?" She asked. She looked in the driver's seat slightly startled. She saw a man looking exactly like Stack driving except he wore blue and wasn't talking.

"We had stopped by the Chow's to drop something off and Grace said you had walked home. Ion know why you insist on walking by yourself. You know people crazy."

"I had your powder on me. Wasn't nobody gon hurt me." Her smile was big and bright. Proud.

Annie chuckled. "You a stubborn girl."

Smoke pulled up to her house and stopped. He turned towards Lena and greeted her with a nod. "My brother Stack had some business to handle. He'll be up here in no time to stay with you overnight. Just for safety purposes."

"And don't say you don't need it. I blessed your house, but we can't be too safe."

"I understand."

Turning around by a sound behind her Lena saw Stack jogging in the distance. She hopped out of the car and examined his clothes from afar. His jacket in hand and shirt untucked. She was sure he had done some damage to the guy that approached her. Lena wasn't sure what he did or how bad he handled him, but she was turned on by his disheveled look.

She walked over to Stack and took his face in her hands. She scanned his face and ran her hands down his arm to find any sign of harm.

"I'm okay. That nigga ain't, but he's no longer my problem. Let's head inside." He turned towards his brother and Annie and waved them off. "I'll see y'all tomorrow round noon."

"Thank you again. Bye Annie."

"I'll bring more protection by tomorrow." She waved as Smoke drove off.

The two of them headed up the stairs with his arm around her waist. As soon as they walked in he shut and locked the door and dropped the curtains down. He sat down at the kitchen table as she headed to grab a cold wet rag. Lena kneeled down in front of him, in between his legs, and gently pressed the rag against his skin. "Did he get you?" She asked as she sat back.

He shook his head. "He didn't get a hit in. Come here."

She rarely ever hear him speak like this. Her eyes soften at his tone. Lena sat on his lap as he wrapped his arms around her thick waist. His head rested on her chest and he just took in her heartbeat.

Sounds of crickets, her blowing fan, and the howling dogs were silenced by the matching heartbeats shared between the two of them. A rhythm Stack had loved and gotten used to since being around her. He never stuck around someone long enough to notice if his heartbeat matched there's. He was grateful for experiencing a first with her. It may not mean much to her or anyone else, but to him it felt real. Felt normal. It felt like home.

Lena could tell his mind was racing and he was trying to calm his nerves. She allowed her hand to gently caress his neck. "You wanna get ready for bed?" She asked.

Her eyes scanned his face.

"Yeah." He lifted her up with ease.

"I'm not trying to hurt you."

"You ain't hurtin me, baby." He replied as he headed to the bedroom. Stack gently laid her down before taking his gun off, removing his knife and holster. He placed it at the nightstand next to the bed as he kicked his shoes off.

Without breaking eye contact Lena removed her dress revealing a short lilac colored slip.

Stack removed his shirt and pants leaving him in his boxers.

Lena bit her lip at his muscular frame.

Stack couldn't help but chuckle.

"Why you laughin' at me?" She asked. She made her way to him on all fours to sit in front of him on the bed. Her head tilted to the side as she looked up at him waiting for an answer.

"Cause you're cute. You also try to play innocent, but I catch you lookin' at me. Bitin' your lip and everything."

Lena couldn't help but laugh at him trying to imitate her. She gently nudged him as he laughed.

"I'm just sayin. Hey, I don't mind."

"I'm looking because I like what I see." She confessed.

"I'm surprised you ain't said nothin about me. I'm always looking." He laughed.

"I don't mind." She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him and his brown eyes. "Imma kiss you now, okay?"

"You don't ever have to ask." He whispered seconds before he greeted his lips with her plump set. He moaned at the touch of her lips and the taste of her tongue. Stack lifted Lena up making sure his hands were secured under her ass.

She moaned in his mouth as he gave her a firm yet gentle squeeze.

His lips moved to her neck as he took a seat on the bed. His grip not loosening up as he sat down with her body on top of his. The weight of her on top of him was something he could definitely get used to.

Lena's fingers gently played at his nape as soft moans escaped her lips which caused his breathing to speedup.

He pulled back from her soft skin. Not because he wanted to, but because she was doing everything right. Her gentle caresses and fingernails always made his heart skip a beat and his goosebumps raise. He rested his forehead against hers and took in the gentle gestures. Lena hummed a soft tune as they took in each other's presence.

"Am I getting too heavy?" She asked. This was the first time she was in his lap for this long and wasn't sure if he was comfortable.

"Naw. You just right."

Not wanting to let the softness of her body go just yet Stack stood to his feet with her in hand and pulled the ceiling fan chord to turn the light off. He gently laid her down and settled his body down next to her.

Lena turned towards his body and nuzzled up next to him. "Thank you again Elias. You didn't have to beat that creep up just for me. I was able to hold my own."

He released a sleepy chuckle. "If I didn't he'd think it was okay to try that shit again." Elias hand rubbed up and down her now exposed hip as she stroked his beard. "I don't play about my girl." He poked one eye open to see her reaction.

Lena sat up on her elbow and looked down at him. "Your girl?" She asked gently.

"I've been meaning to make it official. Lena if you don't mind having me will you be my girl? My partner? My person?" His nerves getting the best of him now causing him to ramble. "I don't usually do this. I've actually never done this so I'm not sure if I'm,"

She stopped him with a kiss. Tasting his tongue yet again was becoming a favorite of hers. His hands gripping her ass as Lena's hands gently ran down his stomach. Stopping at his waistband. She pulled away to catch her breath. Her breast rose as she caught her breath. Her brown eyes scanned his face with a smile. "My answer is yes."

"Yes?" He grinned ear to ear. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips again before pulling back to look at her. He had never done this before. He wanted to put his best foot forward. Be on his best behavior. He wanted to build his own world with her the way his twin brother built his with Annie.

Stack took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Baby I'm tryna to be good right now and your hand is umm,"

Realization kicked in and she lifted her hand from the band of his boxers with a giggle. "Awww I'm sorry!" She cooed. "I appreciate you being patient with me, but baby we don't have to be innocent everyday." She confessed with peppered kisses in between.

"Wait now don't tempt me!" He threw his body over hers and immediately rammed his face in between Lena's neck causing her laugh to fill up the room.

"You think that boy was on his best behavior last night?" Smoke asked Annie as he watched her get dressed.

Annie chuckled. "He ain't walk home last night so I think he did alright." Annie turned to her husband and tilted her head to the side with a smile. "What's wrong, Elijah? Why you so worried about your brother and Lena, hmm?" She asked as she stood in front of him. Her hands gently laid on his firm shoulders as she awaited his answer.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and shook his head. "I just worry about him gettin' in trouble. Messin' with his future. I'm scared he ain't gon find love and he just gone be by himself forever. I can't be with him every step of the way. I want him to find his other half."

"Elijah you already know everyone has a different walk of life. His ain't gone be the same as yours or mine. Lena might be who he needs in his life. He's hardly here with us anymore and I'm sure he would've bragged about getting himself some from her, but he hasn't. She got him baking cookies from scratch, goin' on picnics, readin' books by the lake. She's good for him and I think he knows that. You gotta trust your brother to find his way his own way." She kissed her husband's lips and rubbed his arms. "Come on let's head over and pick him up. That was his first time staying over so he probably don't wanna come home tonight." She teased.

Lena was taking a nice bath and reading her book when Elias asked to join her. He sat across from her on the floor and took her book and began reading it to her letting her get lost in the fairytale. She had raised her leg and enjoyed the bubbles that sat on top of the warm water cover her leg only to slowly pop with the warm winds blowing through her windows.

Elias put her book down and watched as her thick thigh lifted up and he had every thought imaginable run through his mind. Her eyes focused deadset on him as her smooth brown skin was exposed with every gust of wind. He was doing a damn good job the last few months, but temptation was getting to him every second of the day.

He stood closer to Lena and placed his hands on both sides of her on the porcelain tub. "Keep teasing me with that leg and imma jump in here with you."

She smiled at his threat and was hoping he made it a promise. "What's stopping you?"

He took his shirt off and stepped in one foot at a time with his pants on.

"Elias!" Lena screamed with laughter as he got in halfway dressed just to join her.

Stack hovered over her completely wet and just smiled. He looked her in the eyes and leaned in for a soft kiss. Nothing too long or harsh. Just soft enough to make her heart flutter and lips want more. "You probably the best thing to ever happen to me, ya know? I ain't been this happy in a while and I want to thank you." He confessed.

She gently took his face in her hands and saw the honesty in his eyes. She wasn't looking for a partner or a man. She just so happened to go with her gut with him and she was happy she did. He had brought nothing but peace and happiness into her already peaceful and happy life. He wasn't trying to change it or her just enhance it and he did that times ten. She was forever grateful for him.

"I'm so glad I got in your car to stitch you up two months ago." She confessed with a smile.

"You and that smile healed me up that day."

Lena's eyes started tearing up.

"That ass kept me around though."

She couldn't help but fall into a fit of laughter. Leave it to Elias to make her capture so many emotions all at once. "I can't with you."

He shrugged and kissed her nose. He stood to his feet, leaned over to grab the towel and helped her up. He wrapped her up in a towel and helped her out of the tub.

As they were drying off she got a knock at her door. Elias gently guided her behind him as they headed towards her door. "Who is it?"

"It's Jim Crow nigga open up."

"Elijah!" Annie shouted as she tugged his arm.

Stack opened the door and Lena welcomed them in.

The look of confusion read on Smoke and Annie's face as they saw a wet Stack and a towel clad Lena.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to make myself presentable. Elias see if they want some of that pound cake." She said before disappearing into her room.

"Y'all want some? I helped her bake it the other day."

"It's edible?" Smoke asked as he received a plate from his brother.

"Elijah be nice in other folks home." Annie scolded.

"Why would I offer you somethin' that ain't edible, fool? My baby helped me make it." He said with pride.

Lena walked out and handed Elias a pair of slacks that she made for him a while back. He thanked her with a kiss before heading to the bathroom to change. Lena sat on her couch and smiled. "Thank y'all again for last night. I do appreciate it. Elias helped make that pound cake. He was so proud of himself once it slipped right on out the pan." She confessed with a giggle.

"It's good. Elias should be proud of himself." Annie confessed.

"My brother ain't been crossing the line with you has he? He been respectful?" Elijah asked as he put his empty plate down.

"Oh yes, sir. Always respectful with me. He's always so thoughtful, too. Very kind and a great listener. He lets me ramble on and on about nothing sometimes just so he can hear my voice." She nervously giggled.

Smoke gave her a content nod.

Annie smiled. She pulled a bag out of her pouch and handed it to Lena. "Here's some more protection powder and a mojo bag. Keep this on you at all times. You don't gotta wear it around your neck everyday just keep it on you any way you can, okay?"

"My baby made me and my crazy brother one. We was skeptical about it at first, but it's proven many of times to keep us out harms way. I suggest you keep it close to you when you heading to the market by yourself." Smoke informed.

Annie shared a proud smile at him and took his hand in hers. He gave her a gentle squeeze in return. He wasn't always a believer, but time proved itself over and over again that what she was doing was the truth. The proof was in the pudding. Ain't no way around it.

"Elias you plan on heading back home with us now? We ain't trying to take up her whole Sunday." Smoke asked.

"Oh I don't mind. If y'all want we can have a little cookout today? Elias and I went to the market a few days ago so I have plenty of food to share and cook. I can make a fresh batch of tea, too. Mr. Willie up the street brought me some extra vegetables from his garden. If I don't use it up it'll go to waste and I would hate to trash good vegetables."

"Yeah stay and celebrate." Stack added.

"Celebrate what?" Smoke quizzed. His eyes went back and forth between the two sitting in front of him. They were practically sitting on top of each other and their fingers were locked.

"I asked her to be my girl last night. She said yes. I know it ain't marriage yet," he clarified "but it's the first step. Hopefully she says yes to that too when I ask her in the near future."

Annie looked so proud of her brother in law. He seemed like an enhanced man. Not necessarily change because he was always gonna be Stack, but it seemed like Lena made him want to be a better man. She prayed it all worked out for them because he deserved that happiness that he was always searching for.

Smoke's features softened at his brother's new found happiness. He always wondered if he'd ever find someone and although he only knew about Lena from Annie and Stack she seemed like the best person for him. His brother always spoke so highly of her. He was never vulgar when it came to her or crude. Always respectful and that's all he could ask for.

"Well my schedule is free, baby?" Smoke asked as he looked at Annie.

She smiled and gave her a nod. "Sounds good to me. Thank you and congratulations. I'm proud of you Elias."

Stack smiled wide as he gripped Lena's hand.

"Alright I'll start getting some water boiling. Excuse me." She stood to her feet, gave Elias a kiss, and headed into the kitchen to start cooking.

Annie got up to help leaving the brothers to talk amongst themselves.

"I'm proud of you. Seems like you got yourself a good one."

"Yeah. She real sweet. Got a heart of gold."

Stack continued to tell Smoke all about his plans. He was going to get a car and probably move in with her before getting married. He wasn't in a rush, he wasn't going anywhere and neither was she, but he wanted to make sure everything was set up to give her a perfect life that she deserved.

Stack watched as his girl and his sister in law laughed together about whatever conversation they were having. This was the life he wanted to live. He was glad that he stopped when he did that warm spring day.

[kiwriteswords]

Where the Wildflowers Grow [Aaron Hotchner x Florist!Reader]

Florist!Reader Masterlist|| Main Masterlist [I need to update this, sorry!]|| Ao3||Word Count: 2.6k|| AN:  My crazy week is over--I have missed my Hotch x Florist Universe!! We're so back, baby! Tags/Warnings:  confessions of love, first 'i love you', reader is a little pessimistic, angst (if you squint), canon-typical themes, Female!Reader, Florist!Reader, Non-BAU!Reader, pre-relationship, pre-established relationship, Sassy!Reader, Flirty!Reader, Aaron Hotchner loves to love, 'Just because'!Aaron Hotchner, Simp!Hotch Summary: As a florist, you've seen a lot of negative occasions for flowers. You've become quite cynical about love, quite honestly. Aaron Hotchner is seemingly changing that.

You were elbow-deep in hydrangeas when the bride canceled.

“Sorry,” she’d said on the phone, voice hollow and embarrassed. “The wedding’s off. He…well. It doesn’t matter.”

You could only read between the lines. A tale as old as time. Something you’d heard a thousand times once over. Maybe he had a wandering eye for her best friend. Or maybe there was a secret family, like the bride who cancelled years ago who’s deposit was on twelve dozen cala lillies.

It did matter.

It always mattered.

You offered the polite condolences you were supposed to. Told her you understood. You always did.

You hung up, leaned against the counter, and let your head fall into your hands. It was barely noon, and already you’d:

Arranged three casket sprays.

Witnessed your regular Tuesday customer order a third round of “I’m sorry I cheated” carnations--soooo tacky.

Had a grown man throw a tantrum over “too many filler greens.”

And now, lost an $800 order you’d already started prepping.

This was the part people didn’t see.

The underbelly of beauty.

You loved your work--

Truly.

But there were days when the petals felt heavy.

When it was hard not to see flowers as bandages.

Temporary distractions over bruised apologies and broken promises.

And as much as you wanted to believe in happy endings…

You did. You were also surrounded by happy endings, but somehow the weight of death and heartbreak seeped into each day. It was hard to wrap a bow around a congratulatory bouquet when the next order slip is one for, “I’m sorry you lost your job.” 

Some days made it harder than others.

The bell over the door jingled.

You didn’t even lift your head.

“We’re closed for emotional collapse,” you muttered, crumpling up the order slip and tossing it into the waste bin. 

There was a pause.

Then: 

“That bad, huh?”

Your eyes flicked up.

And there he was.

Hotch.

Still in his suit. Tie loosened, coat folded over one arm. A brown paper bag in one hand. And in the other?

A crumpled fistful of wildflowers.

Wrapped haphazardly in newspaper.

Dandelions. Queen Anne’s lace. A few purple blooms you didn’t even have a name for. 

All wrapped in the front page news. Black and white and read all over. 

He held them out, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Picked these on my lunch break.”

You stared.

Then blinked.

Brain sort of…malfunctioning. Trying to picture him, suit and tie and all business on the side of the road picking weeds. Beautiful weeds. Wildflowers of sorts. 

Then let out a laugh--a real, startled, exhausted laugh--as you wiped your hands on your apron and stepped forward.

“You brought me weeds?”

“They reminded me of you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Resilient,” he clarified. “A little wild. Hard to overlook.” He gave you a smile one that made your belly warm and your pulse quicken, “Saw them on my drive after grabbing your favorite for lunch and had to stop.” 

Your chest ached.

God. This man.

This. Man. 

You took the bouquet from him gently, handling it like something sacred. There was dirt still clinging to some of the stems. One bloom was missing half its petals. They smelled like grass and heat and summer air.

The newspaper wrapped around it with good news for once. A headline that wrote, “Miracles do Happen,” written in bold font. 

Huh, the irony. You looked at the bouquet, a tiny red lady bug crawled from one of the leaves. 

It was the most beautiful thing anyone had brought you all week.

Maybe ever.

Day in and day out, you’d receive deliveries of traditional roses, carnations, and baby’s breath. Every now and then you’d buy Protea and watch as it sat on the shelf in your cooler, begging to be picked by a patron, but always ending up wilting and eventually in the garbage. 

It was the different--rare--flowers that went unappreciated. 

As if people didn’t know how to hold them--

To arrange them. 

“You trying to get out of the doghouse?” you teased, placing them in a glass jar by the register.

“Didn’t know I was in it.”

You looked at him, really looked--he was tired too. You saw it in the corners of his eyes. The tight set of his jaw. But he was here.

With you.

“Then what’s this?” you asked softly, gesturing to the flowers.

He shrugged, setting the lunch bag on the counter. “You popped into my head.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t want to wait until I had a reason.”

You said nothing.

Just stood there, your fingers loosely gripping the counter, as something cracked open in your chest.

No one had ever brought you flowers just because.

No apology. No ask. No occasion.

Just you.

Existing.

Being loved, even if he hadn’t said the words yet.

He pulled out the sandwiches--your favorite--and passed you one without asking

You sat together at the back table, half the shop still a mess, your hands still stained with chlorophyll. He didn’t comment on the smudge on your cheek. You didn’t ask about the cut on his knuckle.

You just...sat.

Shared food.

Soft glances.

Easy silences.

At one point, you glanced at the jar of wildflowers catching the afternoon light, and something warm and terrifying moved through your chest.

What if he was different?

What if this didn’t burn out after the shine wore off?

What if this was what it looked like--

Love.

Before either of you were brave enough to say it out loud?

But it was the little things with dating Hotch that was different. The things that didn’t need to be said out loud. 

The date cancellation didn’t bother you.

Truly.

Hotch had called that morning, voice heavy with apology, telling you that a case had just come in--out of state, high priority. Jet was already being fueled. You barely had time to say, “Stay safe,” before the line went dead.

You got it. You really did.

You had weddings where the bride changed the color scheme three hours before setup. You had grieving families who wanted the casket spray to be perfect with no time left on the clock. You’d dropped everything more times than you could count.

So no, you weren’t upset.

You understood.

More than understood. This is what you signed up for and were completely okay with it. This is why…this is why you were falling for this man. His dedication. His drive. 

Still, it had been one of those days where everything felt just a little off. Customers were short. A shipment came in late. The flower fridge started humming too loud. Even your favorite floral shears kept disappearing on you.

You were wiping your hands on your apron when the tablet by the register dinged.

New online order.

You moved to check it without thinking, eyes skimming the screen.

Sunflowers.

Simple arrangement.

Delivery to: Your Shop (ATTN: You).

Paid in full.

Customer Note: I know you’ll probably have to arrange these yourself (unless you want someone else to), but I saw a vase of them in the hotel lobby and thought of you. Couldn’t bring myself to order them from another shop. Sorry again for tonight. Wish I was there. – Aaron

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then you let out the tiniest, stunned laugh.

Because of course he did.

Of course Aaron Hotchner submitted a paid order to your own flower shop, just to make you feel seen.

You stood there, rereading the note three times, feeling your throat tighten.

This man.

He wasn’t just a good partner. He wasn’t just thoughtful.

He was…real.

He meant things.

You’d seen men do far worse with far less remorse. You’d made arrangements for the same man three times in a month, once for his wife, once for his girlfriend, once for “a friend from work.” You knew exactly how little some men were willing to give.

But Hotch?

He paid you to send yourself flowers.

Just so you’d feel thought of.

You picked up your phone without even thinking.

He answered on the second ring. Ever the professional, Hotchner,” he said, his voice lower, quieter than usual. You could hear background chatter. Hotel hallway. Maybe the jet.

“You,” you said, not bothering to greet him. “You placed a paid order at my shop?”

“…Is that a problem?” He sounded slightly unsure of himself. It was quite amusing to picture a man as big and worldly as Hotch seem hesitant or questioning of himself. 

You let out a short laugh, one hand braced on your hip, warmth blooming in your chest despite yourself. You looked over to the bucket of fresh trimmed sunflowers beaming up at you. 

“No, it’s--no, it’s not a problem, it’s just--” You sighed. “Aaron, you could’ve just called. Or texted. You didn’t have to pay for anything.”

“I wanted to.” Simple. Like it was obvious. 

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I didn’t want you to think I forgot.” Again, here was the man who seemed and sounded nervous. As if he was grasping onto you. Afraid you might leave. 

“I never thought that.”

“I know,” he said, softer now. “But I thought…maybe if you saw them, it would feel like I was still showing up.”

You didn’t speak for a second.

You were afraid your voice might give you away.

So you cleared your throat and leaned back against the counter, eyes drifting to the still-unmade sunflower arrangement sitting in the back of the shop. Waiting.

You said, quietly, “They’re beautiful. Just the idea of them. Thank you.”

He exhaled, a sound that bordered on relief. “I hate missing time with you.”

“I know. But you don’t have to prove anything. I’m not keeping score.”

“You should be,” he said. Almost like a warning for what was to come. Something you knew already. “I’d lose.”

That made you laugh again, and God, you needed that. That warmth. That certainty. That ease.

There was a pause--

One of those quiet, meaningful ones that stretched like a bridge between people who were afraid to step too far.

You could hear the words sitting there.

Waiting.

But instead of saying them, you said, “I’ve got a brand new pair of jeans I can’t wait to wear out with you when you get back.”

Deflect. What you know best! 

Hotch chuckled, low and warm. “That might actually kill me.”

“Good,” you said. “I like having that power.”

“You always have.”

Another beat of silence.

You could hear it in his breath. You were sure he could hear it in yours.

That almost-love humming between you.

You smiled softly. “Come back to me soon.”

“I will.”

You didn’t say I love you.

He didn’t either.

But God, you could feel it.

And it was more than enough.

For now.

This almost-love was blooming so wildly in your chest now every waking moment you saw him. From the sun staining his cheek in the morning hours of your apartment to the sweet texts you would get back from him (despite his poor texting skills). 

You’d almost said it dozens of times.

When he brought you coffee just the way you liked it, scribbled with your name in his messy FBI handwriting.

When you caught him watching you in your shop like you were made of sunlight and not soil and flower petals.

When he fixed a broken hinge on your cooler door without being asked.

When he’d kissed you under a thunderstorm, one hand in your hair, the other on your cheek, like he was trying to memorize the shape of you.

You’d almost said it--

But didn’t.

And he almost had too.

You felt it when he lingered in your doorway a second too long.

 When his thumb traced your jaw like it was fragile.

When his voice caught on a soft “Be safe,” as you headed into another busy day.

When he looked at you like you were more permanent than his job, than the jet, than the danger that lived in his orbit.

You didn’t need the words to know.

But you wanted them.

You wanted him to have them.

To hear them.

To feel them, unfiltered and undiluted, before anything could take the chance away.

So when your phone rang that day--late afternoon, with the shop smelling of eucalyptus and lemon balm, a soft storm tapping against the windows--you didn’t expect it.

You didn’t expect his voice.

Didn’t expect how wrecked it sounded.

“Hey,” you said softly, automatically smiling as you wiped your hands on your apron. “Shouldn’t you be haalfway through an interrogation right now?”

There was a pause.

A too-long one.

Then his voice came through--

Tight, raw. 

Shaken.

“Something went wrong.”

You froze.

“What do you mean?”

“The case. It got…bad.”

Your stomach dropped.

You weren’t used to this.

Your job didn’t come with guns and unsubs and tactical gear. You dealt in blooms and beauty and people on the brink of celebration or grief.

Not danger.

But this? This was his world. And now, you could hear it in his voice.

Shaking.

“I’m okay,” he rushed out, as if he was saying it to himself as well. “I’m okay. I swear. But I--God, I needed to call you.”

You leaned hard into the counter, heart racing. “Aaron, what happened?”

“There was a house. A hostage situation. We thought we had the perimeter clear but--we didn’t. It was close. Too close.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table. You could feel your breath catch.

“They’re fine. We’re fine,” he continued, like he needed to say it aloud to believe it. “But I was pinned for a second and I couldn’t reach my comms and I thought--just for a second--”

He went quiet.

You closed your eyes, trying to breathe through the panic threading into your ribs. All of the mess around you--

The flowers, the orders, the stack of to-do’s seemingly melted away. 

“I thought about Jack,” he said quietly. “And I thought about the team.”

Another pause.

Then his voice dropped--

Lower, hoarser. 

Vulnerable in a way you’d never heard.

“And then I thought about you.”

Your throat tightened.

“About how I hadn’t told you yet.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him right.

“Told me what?”

He exhaled, a shaky sound on the other end of the line.

“That I love you.”

You didn’t breathe.

He kept going, like he had to get the words out now or lose them forever.

“I should’ve said it sooner. I should’ve said it a hundred times already. But today, when I thought--”

He cut off, jaw clenched audibly even through the phone.

“I love you,” he repeated, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Like he’d been preparing his whole life how to say it.  “I don’t want to wait for perfect moments or good timing or whatever stupid rule I thought I was following.”

You stood still in the middle of your shop, surrounded by flowers and petals and a hundred unsaid things--

And whispered, “I love you too.”

It came out broken. Bare. But so full of truth you could feel it in your bones.

The other end of the line went silent for a beat.

Then he exhaled--

Like he’d been holding his breath for weeks.

“You do?”

You let out a shaky laugh, brushing tears from your cheek.

“I think I’ve been loving you since the day you showed up with wildflowers wrapped in newspaper.”

Another pause.

Then, softly, “I think I started the first time I walked into your shop and forgot how to breathe.”

You smiled, teary, heart pounding like it finally had permission to.

“I wish I could see you right now.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll come to the shop.”

“You better,” you whispered.

Because suddenly, everything you wanted was on the other side of that door.

And this time, you weren’t going to let love stay unsaid.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @Sweethotchlogy @softtdaisy @stilestotherescue @midnghtprentiss @thebestqueenoftheworld @Bookaddictlatina  @superlegend216

[coniferouspines]

Another snippet inspired by @babyblankyerror ’s Dr. Pinington AU.

“Stanley, are you—?” Stanford stopped dead upon entering his brother’s office, standing in the doorway dumbstruck as he took in the sight before him.

Stanley was sitting on the floor, leaning over one of those life-sized anatomy models one would normally find in a university biology classroom. He was dressed in his favourite lab coat, the one that was too big for him with the sleeves that would slip down past his hands. Surrounding both him and the anatomy model was a large array of stuffed animals, all posed in different positions. Some were set up to hold various medical instruments, while others were holding fake plastic organs. A few more seemed to simply be observers.

Mr. Rabid was right on top of the model’s open chest cavity, sitting on the fake lungs. It wore a little nurses’ cap on its head and a mini lab coat that Stanley had clearly sewn together himself. It looked to be watching Stanley as he rooted about in the model’s body, seeming very intent with… whatever his task was.

“What are you doing?” Stanford asked, thoroughly dumbfounded.

He’d watched Stanley poke around in actual dead bodies before and remove their organs, and that had been less confusing than this. At least those bodies had been real and something could be done with their parts. This was a plastic model.

Stanley turned at the sound of his voice and cracked one of those eerie smiles (Stanford refused to think about how they were starting to become more endearing than creepy at this point). “Hey, Sixer!” Stanley said cheerfully. He waved a hand in greeting, the long sleeve of his lab coat flapping about.

“Hi, Stanley,” Stanford said patiently. “Again, what are you doing? What’s with all the—” He gestured wordlessly to all the plushies.

“Well, we haven’t had a patient or even a body to… have fun with… for a while and I’m bored. And if I’m bored… then my friends are probably bored too! So I figured I should include them… because no one likes feeling left out.” Stan beamed like he was proud of himself, looking at Stanford with those big, mismatched eyes.

Stanford blinked as the puzzle pieces clicked together in his brain. “Wait, Stanley, are you—You’re playing?”

“Uh-huh!” Stanley tapped his misspelt name badge. “The doctor is… in session! Or something. Whatever they say.”

He stuck his tongue out at Stanford in a goofy manner, and for a brief moment, Stanford’s mind overlaid the image of the man before him with a much younger version, with a boy in a white and red striped shirt. He had the same look on his face: giddy, innocent in the way only a child could be, yet mischievous and bold.

Stanford didn’t know what to say. His brother was playing make-believe surgery with his stuffed animals and a plastic anatomy model. There was something almost sweet about it, if one ignored how odd it was for a grown man to be doing so. Then again, Stanley had gained a lot of new…oddities…since his incident. Most of them Stanford wrote off as being from brain damage that the botched lobotomy had done to him.

So this was fine. Stanford could accept this. Even if it was a little unsettling, Stanley wasn’t hurting anyone by doing this. There were worse things he could do than play pretend in his free time.

“Did you… want to join me?” Stanley had cocked his head to the side, staring at Stanford with hopeful eyes.

“Actually, I was coming to ask if you wanted to join me,” Stanford said. “I was going to go get lunch. Did you want to come?”

Stanley jumped to his feet, nearly tripped over the hem of his too-large lab coat, pin wheeled his arms wildly to keep his balance, then bounced over to Stanford excitedly. “Yes!”

“Calm down,” Stanford chided, though a smile tugged at his lips at the overeager display. “It’s just lunch.”

He led the way down the hall, Stanley practically skipping behind him.

[novashelby]

Sorry to be Blunt-John Shelby x Reader Smut

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader Warnings: Anal...just anal. John is licking booty hole while being an absolute king of a lover. Some spanking, biting, kissing, and clit loving. Dirty talk cause John has a sexy mouth. Word Count: 1,835 words of loving your ass Summary: John didn't want the tea, he wanted her...Well, her ass.

Please comment and reblog! Thank you for your support. I wrote this cause no one ever writes anal, and man, that is depressing.

John had discreetly locked the door behind them when they initially walked in for tea. The chemist’s daughter was supposed to be working the counter until kind John Shelby played sweet, innocent, and genuine. He’d been going to the same pharmacy for his children’s cough syrup for years, seeing her each time; shy, sweet, helpful. Oh, how helpful she was going to be now that he had her bent over the small kitchenette table of the staff room…. Every time he’d see her, all he’d think about was his hands full of her ass; pinching and grabbing, digging his hands into her soft flesh. “Never expected you to be this easy, love.” John chuckled in her ear as he slowly, tauntingly rolled up her dress skirts. “Not a bit of fight in you, huh?” The poor girl shivered as the cool air in the room hit her skin. John pushed up her garments until they rested upper back.

They were just having tea a few minutes prior, she thought, questioning her own actions as she offered herself. She did all that he asked…the tea was perfect, to his liking and she was sure of that. That is why she was so confused when John Shelby simply looked in the cup, studied it and decided it wasn’t what he wanted. “What? Is something wrong?” is what she asked him when he lazily brushed it off to the side and leaned back in the chair, eying her with his hands folded. 

Grinning, he nodded to her. “May I be blunt?”

And not expecting what he’d say next, she agreed. “Bluntness is nice. Is the tea not to your liking? I can make a new-”

“Please.” John casually grinned and said as if it was no issue. “I don’t want tea, really, I don’t. And I apologize for the effort you went through to make it.” With his hand, he motioned over her body. “Truthfully, I am a single man with four children and a busy job-”

“I’m sorry for that?”

John put his hand up. “Please. Anyway, whores are shite these days and I come in here a lot. I see you.” She knew he had enjoyment seeing the embarrassment on her face; the way the balls of her cheeks turned a rosy red. “I like what I see. You bending over, your arse outlined perfectly in your skirts as you restock the bottom shelves-personally, I think about it often-”

“Excuse me!”

“And because I am a Shelby, I have the right to say the most vulgar shite,” he added, standing. “I want to lick your arsehole….” 

She couldn’t recall what he said or did next, but she did understand that she was bent well over the table, gripping for her dear life; anticipating and waiting for his hands to tease all over her body. John stepped back, admiring her body. There was something so incredibly beautiful and erotic about her bare back; how the curves outline from the other side and the way her ass looked decorated in those pretty lace underwear. How he never expected her to be so experimental with her undergarments, but he was in no position to question that. Mesmerized, John took a step forward, his fingers dancing shapes over her back. A little smile tugged upon his lips as goosebumps shivered over her bare skin. She let out a long sigh as he tickled his fingers down her back and hooked around her panties. As he pulled them down, he kneeled, taking in her beautiful curves. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

A tiny murmur slipped from her lips as he continued to tease her with his feather-like touches, knowing damn well the tingles they were sending up her spine. They felt like zaps and jolts prodding at her delicate frame, allowing her head to buzz. John saw from the way her calves tightened, she felt so…heightened by everything. He watched closely as he drew with his fingers. “Bet your ass is pure,” he whispered. With both hands, he grabbed her perfect ass, one cheek in each hand; curling his fingers into her skin and watching her whimper out. Chuckling, he pulled at her ass before letting go. “Most men are too pussy. Me? Hmmm….I love a nice ass like yours.” He grinned, moving his hand back and landing a rather generous spank. Not to hurt her, but just enough to watch it jiggle. “Fuck….”

She cried out loud, arching her back. “Mr. Shelby!”

“Good girl, remembering her manners,” he complimented, landing a spank on her other ass cheek. When she tried to yelp and climb over the table in reaction, he whispered, “no, no, no, come back.” He hugged an arm around her waist and brought her back down, resting his face against the small of her back. “Okay, okay. We don’t have to do that no more, love.” He placed a small kiss against the small of her back lingering there. Kneeling before her, he gently spread her legs.

His lips felt cold against her most sensitive flesh. He kissed a trail down one cheek, each kiss got longer until he surprised her, taking her flesh between his teeth and pulling. “A-ah!” she stuttered out, trying to find something to grasp. He let go and landed a kiss on the burning patch of teeth marks. She managed to give him a look over her shoulders. “Mr. Shelby-”

“Mmmhm,” he said, half listening, turning his attention to the other cheek. That time kissing from the bottom up. By the third kiss, he licked up and gave a little nibble before placing the last kiss. She didn’t know what she wanted to say and therefore, closed her eyes and paid attention to all his little touches. He spread her open and smiled. “Virgin little ass. I bet you are so tight,” he said in thought. He moved a finger in, just lightly touching her in circles. 

“Never,” she whispered, unintentionally clenching in nerves.

“My favorite thing…stretching a tight ass,” he chuckled, watching her get worked up. “No, no, calm down.” He pressed down on her back to relax her. “Not today, or ever, if you don’t want to…I mean, I’d like to. Like to stretch this ass. I bet it’d feel so good wrapped around me.” John leaned over her, a ball of spit forming at his lips. It dropped over her hole and he rubbed it in, dipping his finger in just until the first knuckle.

“Mmmm,” she whined out in a muffle, tightening harder around him. It didn’t hurt so much as it felt different. 

“I know, I know,” he cooed, wiggling his finger a little. “I just need a tiny gape….A tiny, tiny gape.” John spit on her again, pushing his finger in to the second knuckle. Keeping it there, he allowed her to get used to the feeling. When she slowly eased, he rotated in very small, soft circles. “You take my fingers so well.” She hated to admit it felt weird but the good weird. Especially when he pressed on the side of her vagina. John could tell she was warming up from the way she attempted to grind herself against the table. And how she tried to be so discrete in hiding her little moans of pleasure. “You don’t have to feel ashamed about liking something,” he said. “It’s okay. Just enjoy yourself, hm?” He twisted his finger in and out until it moved with ease, and she was no longer pulling him in. When he let his finger slip out, there was a perfect gaping hole. Not big, but tiny and what he’d consider cute. 

John moved in real close, his warm breath tickling her. Poking his tongue out, he swiped up and just over her hole. Gasps and grunts of pleasure filled his ears over the simple motion of him dragging his tongue around until landing a kiss right over it. Her hand instinctively went to touch her clit, but John was quick to push it away and do the work. His forefinger and middle rubbed soft, but effective circles, allowing her to grind down on them. From how good she sounded, he imagined her face; eyes rolled back, mouth open. The sounds that came from her innocent mouth were so feral. It was so pathetic for her to admit that she’d never felt this good despite fucking before. John Shelby knew where to touch, what to do, what to say…. Her lower half was trembling, fighting to keep her posture. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, flicking his tongue in circles around the hole. It was a beautiful pattern, really. He’d circle it with his tongue a good few times; soft, easy, gently. Enjoying his fingers teasing her swollen clit as it clearly pulsed with the need to feel the edge. The poor girl was leaving a mess on the table. Had she even understood the gift she held? To drip so beautifully just by simple touches. 

“P-please,” she gasped, feeling an orgasm approach as she lost the ability to hold in what was then dripping down the table and on the floor. Only her, she had once thought, could allow herself to feel this good. How was she to go back to normal after this? See him on the street or in the shop, and not expect this…. How was this only to be an exception and not all the bloody fucking time. “I’m going to-fuck!” Her eyes rolled back as he took that as an initiative to rub her faster. 

But the pattern. Fucking hell, the pattern was artwork. The way he’d licking over in circles, flicking his tongue all around. That was the part he teased her with the most, knowing so well she anticipated more. Then finally, he’d dip his tongue in the furthest he could, twisting it around. Oh, how she tried to clench it, to keep it in like a cock, afraid he was going somewhere. But he was kind, keeping it there a little longer each time. He ended it with a kiss, moaning against her before starting it all over again. 

She felt her core shake as her body could hardly contain itself. Better than she could ever give herself, an orgasm ripped through her body. Not in slightest worried, she cried out a moan that surely others could hear. But he deserved that because of how good she felt. She rode it out, grinding her body simultaneously against his tongue and fingers, the last of her squirt dripping from her. “Fucking ‘ell,” she panted, collapsing against the table, trying to catch breath. 

He grinned arrogantly to himself before getting up and walking around the table. He crouched down and gently grabbed her face, smiling. “C’mere,” he said, giving her a soft kiss before standing. His hand tapped her cheek. “Thank you for that. I’ll grab the medicine on the way out…Shelby tab.” On the way out, he placed a gentle slap to her ass. “Have a good day, eh?”

[magickizu]

A Night At Arkham

Crossover dp x dc. So I've got this time line in mind, for my crossover AU and this is a snippet of it. Master Post: Lost Retirement

The bats received word, that Crane escaped Arkham a few days back. Apparently he used the commotion of new hires being shown around and getting all the attention, to get out. -He was the one who slipped through the seams! Sorry

As Batman returned him, Nightwing only left his side to see what's with these "new hires", that they not only seem to have gained the trust of the head doctor, but also to see if they got a hold on things...

Batman and Nightwing were already being expected by Dr. Arkham himself, security and two new faces. Usually it's more of a closed off team in the high security ward, so it took the bats by surprise to see two new faces amongst them, this suddenly.

A young red-headed doctor, seems about his age. Definitely a woman with whom Nightwing can't shake the mental image of the young dr. Harleen, except the glasses are missing and again, red-head- although she did have two streaks of blond at the front.

And a young, tall, larger man with black somewhat scruffy hair, bound into a white ponytail, in security. Somehow in general reminding him an awful lot of his younger brother Jason. Huh.

The barely conscious Crane was handed over to the guards keeping bound, as they headed back to his cell. The new doctor wrote something onto a clipboard probably recording everything from date, to time, to who- it's standard.

"Batman. ..and Nightwing too, fancy seeing you bring someone else around." Dr. Arkham greeted the duo. Batman hummed in response, as he did.

"Yeah... We located him in Bludhaven. He really thought, he could hide there." Nightwing chuckled, smiling friendly.

"But the bats will always keep a close eye on Gotham, I see?" Dr. Arkham smiled himself; of course it's not the first time he had met any of the Bat's protégés. It was always delightful to meet them.

"ha... hAH!! THAT IT IS!! THE TRUEST ART!!!-" Crane seemed to have regained his consciousness, as he called out. "So, so mesmerizing. So-" his breath hitched and he stocked. Before the two bats could do something, the new security guy grabbed him and something on Cranes face changed. The yet again patient locked eyes with the guy and his eyes filled with absolute terror, before he began to scream, yet the man dragged him off, with a little huff. What was it that the new guy did, that terrified the Scarecrow...?

"He'll be fine, please don't worry." The new doctor spoke softly, almost as if cooing false safety...

"Oh right," the head doctor spoke up and cleared his throat. "This is Dr. Nightingale. Fresh from college and highly capable, if I'm allowed to attest to her wit." He introduced his new protégé, as she smiled oh so sweetly and held out her hand.

"Thank you for your service and all that you do, to keep Gotham and her people safe." Batman took her hand, shaking it firmly.

"Pleasure meeting someone Dr Arkham deems worthy enough to be around such important situations..." The big bat offered. "Well, Crane has arrived safely. Sadly I must head off, still have certain things to do." As Batman turned away, his gaze met Nightwing's, who understood the next mission immediately: get more information about her, whatever way. They nodded.

"Yes, of course! Dr Nightingale, I trust you will be able to handle the rest? I would head back to my studies, then." The head doctor turned to his new protégé, she nodded and waved him off with a smile before turning back to the vigilante.

"So, you mentioned that you found him in Bludhaven, correct? Would you mind telling me, if dr. Crane was working on something specifically?" The young doctor asked, something that is not in the protocol. Nightwing felt the suspicion rise but played it down on the outside, instead he offered one of his more charming smiles. Yet before he could open his mouth, dr Nightingale spoke up. "Oh, excuse me. I would like to know, to maybe better understand and get into his head. It's a good way to connect with patients, when you show or at least pretend a common interest." She explained, apparently this right here redhead is just as smart and witty as, well... She does look good- objectively! Of course. ...

"Ah, I see. So the doctor really seemed have picked a good one!" The raven smiled and cursed himself on the inside. That is the most painful small talk he has ever had! -and he survived awkward small talk with both Jason and Damian... Okay, the later got better at it, as he grew. Fine then make it Jason and Bruce! "I mean, you really seem to want to help and believe in a chance for them. That is very good to know." Dick, you absolute moron... Then he heard an angel sing, as she giggled. Oh, he so had a typ- wait... Is that why B left him alone? This damned-

"Haha! Well I try to do my best, as do you I believe." She offered an out. Thankfully.

"He's back in his room. Made sure of it." A much deeper voice grumbled and next to the doctor stood the new security guard. When...? How, without...? Nightingale raised an eyebrow at him, suspiciously until the man sighs. "Don't worry, I didn't do anything." So they know each other, are probably even close. Now that they stand together, Nightwing can see that their eyes are fairly similar,as well as the shade of electric blue and- wow. Suddenly he realises, that this blue is no ordinary blue, even a little more vibrant than a Kryptonians eyes... Has B noticed it already?

"Sorry, while I don't intend on interrupting you two, but..." He meant to interlude, maybe he'll get a clue to their relationship-

"Oh, don't worry. My brother doesn't bite, even if he looks like he wants to." She giggled at the taller man's grumbling. Bingo. Maybe a last hook...?

"Well, in that case," Nightwing held out his hand, that the young doctor intended to take and shake, yet gently he grasped her fingers and guided her hand up. With a slight bow and his most charming of smiles, the vigilante gave her hand a kiss. "It was an absolute pleasure meeting you. We'll meet again eventually, miss...?" Aim, fire and-

The woman's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, while he just completely ignored the big guy growling at him. "O-oh..." She giggled again, seemingly enjoying the attention, giving her brother a small glare, as she took her hand back. "Still Dr Nightingale, but I sure do hope to see you around sir Nightwing." The way she said it, it sent shivers down Dick's spine and he grined a little goofy before turning away.

But he missed. A full name would have been good, but he's sure to get that information through Arkham's website. She's not alone, both strangers go together as brother and sister, so he's looking for at least two Nightingale's. Could there be more? Will there be less? She's got a PhD, so she must be registered in some university, as well as checking the meta register. Something about this terror-inducing stare the brother got going, that even Crane got scared, the way she somehow knew what he was feeling and reacting according... The bright electric blue was just, the tip of the iceberg.

While on his way back to the cave he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Oh boy... He really hoped, that her brother got an eye on his sister. If she's in the high security ward, chances are, she'll meet-... That bastard who took his brother. And he wouldn't want to wish onto her, what that asshole did to Harley...

He couldn't just let it go. Of course not! That is exactly why Dick was on his way, in his nightwing suit, after his patrol, a few days later, just to check in and make sure...

With the information he had, he'd found out that The young woman was dr Jasmine Nightingale, the security guard her younger brother Dante Nightingale. In addition there are two more siblings; Daniel, Dante's twin and Eliza, the youngest Nightingale. All are indeed registered as metas- which is why he didn't say anything to Bruce yet, even if they seem like civilians. Even if their parents seem to not exist, with mostly black hair and blue eyes, with which they fall into prime adoption bait territory. Just to be sure, you know?

Now he's finding his way around the asylum; not to get in, of course. For that he could've just taken the front entrance. No, Nightwing just wanted to catch a sneak peek, see if the new faces are settling in well. Okay, fine, maybe to also catch a glimpse at the nice, new and redheaded doctor-

His thoughts were unfortunately interrupted by sounds of shouting, barking commands and the firing of guns. Nightwing tensed up immediately, ready to get into action and help, as he was about to give Barbara the call on deck for another tried outbreak, yet the noices fell silent quickly again.

The vigilante was already on his heels to head inside, through a high up ceiling window and what he saw made his heart stop... -but not in a bad way!

The new recruit, this Dante Nightingale, was tying up about six unconscious goons in clown masks, together with another guy; the Joker? Also knocked out, just a few feet from his open cell door- he certainly did not get far this time, Nightwing thought. When they were done, with the guns out of reach, Dante wanted to get up, presumably to get the clown prince back into his confined, little castle of solitude. The raven in a domino watched incredulously in the whole situation, as his colleague made him sit down: he seemed to have gotten injured.

Just as the cell door closed, two more security guards came to, one with an aid kit the other from another direction, that should be somewhere in administrations if Dick can trust his memories. They talked about something he didn't hear, due to the distance and the fact of the thick and tempered glass between them. From his lipreading skills, he could only make out some keywords- god damnit, he really should ask Cass about teaching him properly!

But something about the police coming and save now and EMTs. Dante nodded in apparition, at one of his colleagues having aided him and bandaged him up. Just shortly after, he could hear the sirens growing louder...

Standing in the shadows of the building, in an alley near the gates to the asylum, Nightwing stood still, waiting patiently. It's been a few hours since it happened. Dante Nightingale walked out of the gate and Nightwing moved,

"I know you're standing there, you don't need to hide." The Badger haired man called out, needless to say, the vigilante was surprised, but hey if he's that good, maybe more of them will stay locked up. Nightwing chuckled softly, trying to show that he means no harm.

"Am I getting bad at hiding or are you just good at it?" Of course he couldn't help himself, it's also a nice icebreaker, "You were also the guy who got the Scarecrow save to his cell, a few nights back right?"

"Yeah, and you're the hero who shamelessly flirted and got dumped by my sister. I remember." Ouch, but fair. Despite his deadpan tone, the trained eyes of the bird can see that the man in front of him, indeed, loosed up. And hey, that jab at his ego, made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "So what you doing here? As far as I've read up on you lot, you are usually up in Bludhaven."

"Oh, yes. I just needed to head to a meetup and heard the gunshots. Did something happen? Are you okay?" Nightwing asked, still concerned about the wound this man is just seemingly walking off.

"Eh... 'm fine." Nightingale shrugged his shoulders. Lier. Nightwing could see the outlines of the bandages underneath his shirts and- wait a minute... This man is wearing nothing but a simple black sweatshirt and light blue, slightly ripped jeans, well and his bag with work gear probably- "But,..." his attention was captured again by the other man, "...this Joker guy has many hidden hands around. A few days ago I cut his secret ways of communications, which is why a little raid happened. Those poor bastards thought it was their sign. Maybe keep an eye open, would be nice." Dante Nightingale said then, as he fixed his back and turned to leave.

"Wait... Wait!" The words finally registered with Nightwing and the man stood still again, waiting for any words, looking down at the vigilante.

"What."

"...how will I know to trust you?" It came from the other suddenly.

"You don't. Neither do I. But I respect that you seem to do an at least half-descent job, so there's that." With that he simply turned back around and left Nightwing all to himself. After he crossed the road, a lonesome car drove by and in an instant the man was gone.

Nightwing stared perplexed, how did he do that? But... He's right. Plus, these two seem to do equally well a good job, yet something's just itching in the back of his mind. Clawing at him, that somehow, in some way, something seems... Different about them. But yet again, that could also just be one of their meta abilities.

Just one thing is for certain; oh he's so going to accompany Batman again, if a rogue gets out, because wow... Incredible to admit, but both have uhhh... Certain appeals. Oh boy, he's definitely looking forward to having a reason to swing by so long one of them is there!

@georgiefreddie0829 @shirasorin

[boydepartment]

three strikes - nishimura riki x fem! reader

a/n: HIIIIII this was a request from my 🧈 anon :3 i hope you love it my dear

warnings- jealousy! nothing insane tho, mostly fluff 😋 i added a small inside joke that riki would call ricky from zb1 “discount ricky” all jokes tho (pls don’t kill me)

wc- honestly over 750

MASTERLIST

“here.” you looked over to riki setting your drink down on the table, you looked up at him and smiled as he sat down across from you at the cafe table.

“did you-“

“ask for extra peppermint? yes. even though it’s gross..” riki mumbled, you giggled and sipped your hot coco. it was freezing cold at least to you and so the coco helped a lot.

“when is your project partner arriving?” riki mumbled, sipping his coffee.

you shrugged, “any minute.” setting your coco down riki watched you, he wasn’t necessarily happy over this whole project partner thing. riki knew your project partner, and safe to say he was just irritated by his presence. he didn’t know why, but he was just irked.

so when the OTHER ricky walked in, he just waved and watched as the other boy sat next to you.

“hey y/n!” he smiled, you grinned back at him.

“hey! it’s cold outside are you sure you’re bundled up enough?” you asked, grabbing your books. riki just decided to go on his phone to pass time.

“yeah! it’s crazy how quickly the weather changed huh? are you warm enough?”

you and ricky made small talk which didn’t bother your best friend. that was until one sentence.

“your hands are freezing y/n!”

riki’s eyes shot up to see the discount ricky’s hands on yours. if stares could kill a man, discount ricky would be six feet under.

“oh! yeah that’s why riki, well, my riki got me hot coco.” you let go of his hand and turned to your hot beverage.

nishimura riki would be lying if he said some pride didn’t bubble up inside him, which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy sitting next to you.

riki didn’t take notice and he went back on his phone, he just wanted your project to be over so he could walk back to the car with you and just be away from people. by people he meant discount ricky. this was strike one for his patience.

“i think we should work more on the details of the piece of art itself. like things that normal people look past in monet’s art. there’s a story everywhere.” you suggested, this art project was pretty big for your grade. and you were just relieved that your project partner agreed to do monet.

“that’s such a good idea y/n.” ricky smiled.

oh please riki thought to himself, at that point discount ricky should just get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention. that’d be way less embarrassing than kissing your ass at every little- wait what the hell

to riki’s horror, discount ricky, was readjusting your beanie so your hair didn’t get in your face. this pissed him off, strike two of his patience gone. riki was the one who spent HOURS trying to crochet you that beanie last year and now he’s going to have to make you another one because discount ricky’s grimy hands touched it! riki felt his eye twitch, he ended up making eye contact with the boy next to you. a smirk ghosting his features.

riki wanted to kick his shin under the table or maybe throw his hot coffee-

“i think we should also choose one of monet’s less known works aswe- oh ouch…” you mumbled rubbing your hands, whenever you wrote or sketched too long your hands would hurt. riki always took notice of this so he looked up proper hand massages- safe to say he could be certified- WHAT THE SHIT?

discount ricky grabbed your hands and started massaging them.

strike three

“can you get your hands off her?!” riki finally snapped, “god at this point it’s revolting! i’m right in front of both of you!”

your eyes widened as you watched you best friend actually lose his temper, yeah you’d seen him bicker but this was different.

“what are you two dating?” ricky asked, if you were in a tv show you’d see the angry lightening bolt hit both of them. this was not good, you quickly packed your bags and grabbed your best friend. apologizing to your project partner.

“what’s his fucking problem?!” riki stomped through the fresh snow to your car.

“what’s his problem?! what’s your problem? what the hell was that?! are you okay?!” you had a million questions. and they were flying out.

“i- what- how is this my fault!? he had his grimy discount ricky hands all over you! only i’m allowed to do that as your best friend!”

it was really hard to take him seriously as you finally got to the car laughing. you leaned against the hood trying to catch your breath.

“y/n this isn’t funny!” he stood right next to you.

you finally caught your breath, “i’m sorry where did the nickname discount ricky come from?”

“well obviously i’m the better one way more deserving of, um hello, touching your hair, massaging your hands because im youtube certified, AND THE COLD HANDS THING?! he was flirting with you shamelessly in front of me!” riki swung his arms around like a crazy person trying to explain that the end was near.

your hat fell slightly as you laughed again which riki fixed gently before speaking again, “then he’d smirk at me like he knew he was getting on my nerves! like that discount version of ME KNEW HE WAS MAKING ME ANGRY!”

“should i take my hat off and give you sanitizer? since you touched my discount ricky infected beanie?” you asked, unlocking the car and throwing your backpack in the back. you turned around and bumped into riki.

“actually yeah take off that hat. i will sanitize it and crochet you a new one.” riki grabbed the hat off your head and gave you his own beanie.

“should i sanitize my hands too?” you asked giggling, going to open your door but slipping on black ice.

riki immediately caught you, “um guess who couldn’t catch you- discount ricky. i’m clearly better for you so.”

you started laughing again, hitting his chest playfully, “you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“is that a bad thing?” riki asked quickly, suddenly unsure of himself.

you shook your head no, “it’s cute.”

riki smiled down at you; it was obvious he was at least a little smug.

“you know what he didn’t contaminate?” you asked, still giggling, your eyes flickered from riki’s eyes to his lips. immediately he got the hint and took his chance.

discount ricky is out and nishimura riki hit a home run

[beat-the-morning]

🖤 Fumigation Journal || Hozier x Reader🖤

BOTH PARTS

READ ON TUMBLR UNDER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ || smut

Tags: oral sex, multiple orgasms, cum eating, cum swallowing, marsturbation interrupted, love confessions, fingering, face fucking, dry humping, marking, creampie (kinda), squirting, breakfast in bed

Summary: Andrew is staying at your apartment while his house gets fumigated, you come back from work one day only to find him with your dream journal in hand. What will happen next?

Word Count: 7k

A/N: This fic was co-written with oomf :) We both wrote both chapters— go give them some love!!

Their Wattpad

💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙

You gazed out your window, sleepy eyes reverently observing the sunrise. Your heart swelled— somehow, the sunrise always felt prettier when you had someone to love. Really, everything in life gets slathered in beauty

And, oh, how close your love was. He was staying in your shitty apartment instead of his big, old house. The one that had no air conditioning, that he needed to get renovated when he moved in to even be able to piss in the bathroom. It also frequently got infested with bugs. Andrew tried everything, but nothing really worked. Not bug traps, nor the exterminator, nor closing the gaps in the house.

So, currently the house was getting fumigated. Maybe these bugs realized how he was made for you. Maybe they were on your side— the ultimate matchmakers. You giggled into your pillow at the mere thought.

You got up and rolled out of bed. Work was in 30 minutes— it was probably best to suck it up and stop staring at the sky, like some sort of romantic. Even if you very well were. You stumbled out of your room, hair frizzy, face bare, eyes blurry.

Your sleepy legs made their way into the kitchen, every step a battle. You weren't paying attention, your mind was way better at thinking about your pretty best friend. In consequence, you bumped into the man himself. Face hitting his chest, you let out a tired groan. You looked up at him with weary eyes— one of his hands ended up on your shoulder, steadying you.

“Clumsy morning, huh?”

You cover your mouth, hiding a yawn. Andrew laughed, a warm, mellow, welcoming sound. Wanting him was your only absolute this early. Everything was blurry, you really didn't care about anything, you were tired, and your head hurt. But you wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“I made french toast.” He said, letting you go, interrupting your thinking.

You happily hummed, sitting down at the table as he set a plate in front of you, “Thank you, Andy”

“No problem. And I'm sorry for this being all so sudden. Thank you for taking me in. It… it really means a lot, you're a sweetheart. Truly.”

Your cheeks flushed, and it took you a few seconds to compose yourself before you dug into your pancakes.

Once you were done stuffing your face, you quickly got ready for your job. You organized books at the local library— and you sure as hell dressed the part. You decided on a patterned button down and black trousers- hell, your elderly neighbor dressed younger than you.

Work was boring as fuck, but at least it was Friday, so no more work for a couple days. You got through the day with one too many cups of coffee and at least one “smoke break”, which was really just a lap around the block to get away from work for a few minutes.

You didn't have the worst job ever—hell, the pay was the best you'd had. But it was tedious, and mind-numbingly boring. Especially when you had a man at home. Not your man, but rather the man you were given the curse of being “just friends” with.

You were utterly thrilled, yet exhausted at the end of the day, when you took the bus home and planned what movie you and Andy were to watch.

Your aching legs made their way up the stairs, your hand holding tightly onto the handrail, trying not to fall down the steps from how drowsy you were. The sweet promise of seeing your best friend filled you, though, and it did almost numb your pain.

You finally reached your floor, opening the door, heart warm and fuzzy, and your eyes befell a beautiful, but shocking sight.

Andrew lay there, on your cozy couch, in sweatpants and a white ribbed tank top. Even that was enough to stun you. His eyes were focused, glazed over, head tilted back. His hair was messy, tangled.

In one hand, he held a small, black journal- with striking similarity to your dream journal. You’d been using it for a few months now and had written every dream you’d had in it, while it had started out with innocent little fairytales, your dreams had become far less appropriate as of late. So the journal mostly was composed of dirty descriptions of intimacy- all with Andrew. This was the book that you mistakenly left open on your coffee table the night before. His other hand was under his sweatpants, gripping tightly, stroking his cock with wild abandon. He knew it was wrong, that he was invading your privacy, but god, was he weak for you.

“So fuckin’ hot…” He groans, the world around him fuzzy and blurred. “Please” he whimpered, bucking into his hand, a bit of drool leaking onto his chest, soaking the hair that peeked out from under that singlet.

You took it all in, and realized that you should not be watching this. You quickly shut the door, followed by a loud curse from Andy. You could feel your heart pounding in your ear. Fuck, were you wet. You were still in your work clothes, very much dressed like a librarian. But you couldn’t deny the wetness underneath it all, you felt your panties soaking more and more as the seconds passed by, you hated and loved what his simple yet perverted act was doing to you.

Behind the door, Andrew quickly put his conscious, ever twitching length away under those unintentionally slutty grey sweatpants. Or intentionally— you knew this man. Despite his very common bouts of disliking everything about himself, he knew how hot others saw him. And he wasn’t an idiot— he'd seen your reverent stares. He'd noticed how you always stayed wrapped in his arms just a second too long after hugs. He knew that you were attracted to him on some level. Maybe not the full extent, but he knew something was up.

How could he ruin this by wanking off to your private journal? Once his dick was put away, still twitching, leaking a bit in his pants, he ran his hand through his hair, hunched over, filled with guilt. Your moleskin-wrapped journal was abandoned on the floor. Man, did he fuck up.

You leaned into the door, your voice shaky— you were embarrassed, turned on, and terrified all at the same time.

“Andy… you decent?” you called out on the other side of the thin door, meek.

He looked up from his hands covering his flushed face, and responded a very pathetic, “Yea… Ehm, yeah, I am.” He shifted awkwardly, before his pretty hazel eyes fixed upon the floor. Shamed, and rightfully cockblocked.

You opened the door, slowly walking back into your apartment, your eyes focused on the floor, too embarrassed to look over at him. His breathing was shaky— he was scared to take even one step closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t—“ he cut himself off, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. “I have no excuse, I really, really don’t. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I was.. you were gone, found yer book… and… and I thought you were working, and I'm so fucking sorry, Ang-” He cut himself off with a sob, one finger nervously twisting at a curl.

Angel, huh? The man was always such a sweet talker when he fucked up. Now you weren't even mad at him, how could you be? You wished you could have the image of him pleasuring himself burnt into your eyelids. But you snapped out of these filthy thoughts when he spoke again.

“I’ll just leave, I know you probably need to process this whole thing, but please don’t—“

“No- I mean, it’s…” You took a heavy breath in. Please keep going. You thought, but what slipped out was a little more civil;

“We all do it, yeah? So… so…” You took another heavy breath in, your tone changing to a softer one. “Don’t leave.”

His heart broke with your last words, how could he say no to you?

“No, no, I'm… really sorry, that journal was private. And… and it's not fair to you,” cue the chorus of sniffles, “It's none of my business, even if it's about-”

And when you thought your cheeks couldn't flush more. Your best friend was sobbing, and yet you couldn't help but notice the outline in those sweats. Long, hard, twitching, leaking onto the waistband. Oh, how you wish to swallow it whole.

You took a step closer to him, finally looking into his eyes, they were red and teary, begging for forgiveness. You hugged him, awkwardly, but you knew he didn’t care much about that. He just needed the embrace of another. He felt horrible—disrespectful, dirty, perverted. All he wanted to do was sink into this couch and die from pure sin.

But the closest he could do was sink into you. He was so disappointed in himself that he didn't really notice his face was between your breasts. Fine, he did notice, and it made him even harder. But it was a shameful boner— and he really did derive a lot of comfort from your embrace.

You gently stroked his hair, whispering the occasional ‘you're okay’. Did he notice how hard your nipples were? Did he feel your heart beating? Oh, you felt him. Obviously he was hunched over, in a way that you couldn't feel his cock, but you could feel his shaky hands holding onto you. You could feel the way he nuzzled his nose into your breast— and fuck, did it turn you on.

You moved to the couch, sitting down next to each other, you gently pulled his face from your chest, holding it tenderly in your hands. He looked so ashamed, yet aroused. He closed his eyes for a second, relishing in your touch and caresses, surprised that you even wanted him near you.

He sighed softly, eyes still closed, you placed a tender kiss on his forehead, your thumbs softly rubbing his cheeks in an attempt at comforting him.

When you pulled away slightly, he let out a little whine. He didn't mean to– he was ever so flustered. His cheeks under your fingers were hot, very hot. Like he'd never been kissed on the forehead by someone as pretty as you. You were sure he had, but it was cute to see him fumbling around like he hadn't.

“I really am sorry, I don't deserve this.. you being so damn sweet, when you should really just be yelling at me.. and in your own house, I'm such a-”

“For God's sake, could you shut up?” You blurted, your hand stilling in his hair.

He looked at you with big, wet eyes, almost like a kicked puppy, he looked like he was on the brink of tears. “But I-”

You saw those pretty shining eyes, and that blabbering soft mouth. And all you could think about was shutting him up yourself. You leaned in, the bow of your lips drawn against him in a slow, but nevertheless desperate affair. Andrew sobbed a little into the kiss, but held you close. He needed this, he needed you.

You were the first to slip your tongue into it, tasting his spit. He tasted like coffee and tears. Poor man, an insomniac and depressed. What he needs now is pussy. Plenty of it, to drown his sorrows in.

You kept devouring him, feeling his hands shaking throughout, yet incredibly needy. One hand landed on your thigh, and you fell into him, groaning needily.

God, he could feel the heat radiating from you. He pulled off your kiss-swollen lips and got at your neck, quickly finding the spot that drew you in. He spoke quietly, under your ear

“This good?” He whispered, eyes half lidded. He didn't even try to hide his boner, and you could feel his precum leaking out.

“Mhm..” you whispered reverently, moving his hand up your waist.

He fumbled while unbuttoning your shirt, quickly followed by your bra before he latched onto one of your breasts, needily sucking at your nipple while his hand played with the other one. You whimpered quietly, your hand immediately moving to his hair, fingers tangling in his brown curls. His lips moved to your other nipple, sucking it passionately while his hands travelled lower on your form, undoing your work pants after a bit of a struggle.

You tugged at his hair, leading him to where he was so obviously so very giddy to lap at. He looked up at you, heart eyes so pretty in the golden hour, but ever so feral. You met his gaze with a smile. He kissed a trail down to your clit as he inched both your panties and trousers down at the same time, moving down, licking a firm stripe up your warm pussy, then digging in, and eating you like a man starved.

And god, did he eat you out. Like he was made to. Eager and adoring, he worshipped you between your legs without even pulling away to breathe. His long tongue, soft lips, and nice big fingers— what else would he use them for? Yes, guitar playing, but he'd much prefer to play you instead.

His tongue worked at the lips of your pussy, nose dug into your clit, his stubble drawing giggles from you. It quickly became his safe space. He loved it. He'd always loved it, and he loved it even more now that it was you. His sweet muse.

And his favorite melody, out of all the love songs that he's heard, were your moans. A sweet crescendo, starting soft and shy, but loud enough for all your neighbors to hear by the time his fingers were inside you. You were his, all his. And everyone had to know that. They had to know that he was devouring your decadent body as it deserved to be.

His fingers curled into you, tickling the very spots that made you squirm and squeeze his face with your thighs. You returned his heart eyes before they rolled back.

You moaned so loudly, lewdly. A noise that you didn’t even know you could make. You felt a familiar knot in your belly, the feeling of it tightening only to suddenly snap overwhelming you.

“Fuck, you- Andrew, fucking- God!” You said, frustratingly riding the waves of pleasure running through you.

He looked up, eyes shining, still so very big and needy, but drowning in your orgasm, just as you were. He curled up next to you, catching your lips in a hungry kiss. When he pulled away for air, you smiled, in a way that you hoped he adored.

“You taste like pussy, Andy” You teased with a little giggle.

“Mm… Wonder who’s fault that is, angel.”

You giggled, kissing him again. His hands grabbed your waist and moved you so you were straddling his thigh, you ground against it, unknowingly rubbing his cock while doing so. One of your hands travelled lower towards his sweatpants, slipping under the waistband and wrapping your fingers around his cock. Slowly, you stroked it, the tip of it red and glistening with precum, poking out under his clothes. Your other hand pulled his top off, consumed with the need to feel his skin against yours.

He moaned softly into the kiss, pulling your hips firmly onto his thigh and making you hump it, you moaned in return, and he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your hand, his hips buckling towards you ever so slightly, you were going to stop, you wanted him in your mouth before he could finish, but you were too late. He came on your hand and on his abdomen not long after, a thick pearly coating on his slight pudge. You broke the kiss, looking down at his lap and pulling your hand up to your mouth.

He looked into your eyes, and you returned it, almost asking for permission, to which he gave you a small nod and a smile. Your eyes focused back on your hand, still covered with his seed, and you licked it off, quiet, soft moans escaping you as you swallowed his delicious sin.

“Baby, look at me,” he commanded softly, his grip in your thighs tightening. You looked at him, his eyes full of love and lust. “Good girl, now look here,” he pointed at the mess of cum on his abdomen. “Look at what you did.”

“Sorry.” You said with feigned innocence, looking at him with puppy eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet angel.” He cooed in a patronizing tone, knowing you were putting on an act. “Just clean it up for me, yeah? Be good and clean up your mess.”

You nodded, sliding off his lap and onto your knees on the floor. You leaned in close to his tummy, his dick still hard even after his climax. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling you even closer, then, you started licking him clean, his happy trail tickling your tongue in the best way possible. You swallowed him, over and over again while he moaned softly. You slowly started to run your tongue over his cock, looking up at him with your sweet bedroom eyes. He gasped. He adored having someone suck him off after he's already come. It made him see stars, truly.

“Mmmm… you like this, sweetness? You enjoy cleaning me up after you made such a mess of me?” He cooed again, hands brushing through your hair.

You nodded the best you could while his dick was stuffing your mouth up. God, his sweet whimpers and words of encouragement. They really could kill you.

You swallowed him deeper, closing your eyes, trying your best not to gag. You ended up getting a little carried away, your nose pressed hard into his pubic bone, like a puzzle piece. There was a bulge in your throat. You decided to try something out and stroked it from the outside, looking to see if it did anything for him.

And God, did it do something. He let out a noise you thought was impossible. He was there, on the couch, legs spread, back arched as you were on your knees, sucking from the tap. He pulled your hair tighter- probably not intentionally so hard, but it's not like it didn't turn you on.

You kept at it, closing your eyes, drowning in those growls and whimpers. You'd think he was some sort of slut.

He gasped, and starting fucking into your throat, pretty eyes rolling back, legs shaking. After another few languid strokes, he came down your throat, basking in the way you enjoyed this, just as much as he did.

“Good girl, fuck.. your throat, fuck,. Jesus fucking Christ, angel… so tight, Mmm—!” He babbled mindlessly as you pleasured him. God, he adored you.

Adored you so much that he came down your throat. You choked on it a little, pulling back and clearing your throat. You smiled sweetly up at him, cum dripping down your chin, then kissed the tip of his cock, warranting another little burst of cum to shoot at your face.

“Such a messy eater…” He teased lovingly.

You were in the middle of a reply when he stuffed his cock into your mouth again, holding you there.

“Shhh, princess. Nobody's ever taught you to not speak with your mouth full?” There was a smile on his face. God, was he a vision… Cheeks flushed, hair the messiest you've seen it, hands shaking, stray drops of cum on his pale skin. You started to bob your head, but he stopped you.

“Two rounds of sucking me off in a row? I'm sure you get tired. So tired. How about I just do it for you… keep your mouth around me, and I'll take care of the rest. Is that okay with you, angel?”

You gave him those puppy eyes, humming happily as a way to say “yes”.

“Mmmhm? Okay, then..”

He started to fuck into you, a little bit sloppily, his hips bucking. He was feral, truly. He moved quickly, hyperventilating, a third orgasm threatening to happen at any time. He moved faster, fucking your mouth with a surprising amount of strength for a man that had already come twice.

But it became too much, and you had to pull away to take a breath, warranting a surprisingly bratty whimper for a man acting so dominant.

“Wha- Wha- FUCK,” He belted, shooting cum onto the floor, right onto your moleskin notebook, it wasn’t much, just what was left inside of him after the last two orgasms. Your hand was still wiping your chin, and your mouth fell open.

“Jesus, sorry, I didn't know-”

“I didn't either,” he said, irrationally upset. It took him a bit to calm down. He caught his breath as he leaned back on the couch. You got up and sat next to him, gazing up into his brimmed eyes.

“Andy, you know I wanted to swallow, I really did. I want it…”

He looked back down at you, gaze softening. He leaned to your level, grabbing your chin and opening your mouth, then, moved his head on top of yours and slowly let his spit flow from his lips and onto your tongue. You smiled, a little naughtily, and swallowed. God, that was hot.

“Mmmh.” You hummed.

“That's something to swallow, isn't it?”

He leaned in and kissed your tired lips tenderly, as you tangled into him, ending up a cuddling, naked mess on your—now, filthy couch.

He moved you to lay on his chest while he played idly with your hair, his nose buried in it as well, taking in your scent in the quiet evening. His other hand traced patterns on your back, his fingers dancing carefully over your skin, almost fearing you’d shatter like a porcelain doll just from his touch.

His lips pressed onto your forehead, giving you a soft, affectionate kiss that took your breath away for a second. You looked up at him from his chest, your eyes wide and adoring. “Hi,” he murmured softly, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“Hi,” you responded, making the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“This doesn’t feel real.” He whispered softly, still caressing you with all the love in the world.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I never thought I’d actually get to hold you like this, to have been with you like we have.” He elaborated. “This was always more of a fantasy, I didn’t think it’d be real.”

“What, you thought I didn’t like you like that?” You asked, a bit incredulous.

“I knew you thought I was hot, I’m not stupid, I see how you look at me.” He sighed again, his arms tightening around you, his gaze avoiding yours. “But the… ehm, the extent of just how much you liked me was more than I thought it’d be.”

You smiled softly, your hand playing with his chest hair as you listened to him. His voice was like a melody in and of itself, every word he said a note in the symphony of your dreams.

“It’s just…” He continued, his tone even softer. “It’s like there’s steps to all this, you know? There’s finding someone attractive, then there’s wanting to- ehm, have sex with them, and then there’s just wanting to be with them, in every way possible…” He trailed off.

“Andy. What are you trying to say?” You asked, his eyes immediately focusing on yours the moment you finished your sentence.

“That I love you, angel, I have for a long time.” He finally confessed. You felt his heart speed up in his chest, he was so incredibly nervous.

“I love you, too.” You timidly whispered, then placed a quick, loving kiss on his chest. “You can calm down now, your heart is beating way too fast.” You added teasingly.

“Maybe a proper kiss will calm me down.” He teased back.

You moved carefully, crawling up to his eye level and kissing him deeply. He kissed back almost immediately, your mouths moving in tandem to make the perfect kiss. Andrew pulled back after a few seconds, his mind too crowded with thoughts to fully lose himself in you no matter how much he wanted to do just that.

“Let me take you out on a date, somewhere nice,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. His voice little more than a lovesick whisper. “If not, at least let me call you mine.”

“Yes, to both.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his hand.

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “Sorry to change the topic like this, but I’m exhausted, wanna go to bed?”

You chuckled softly at the change of subject. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.” You argued lovingly.

“I had my fill with you already.”

“Then I guess we can go to bed, but I have to shower first.” You stood up from your cuddling position on the couch, watching Andrew follow suit not long after. “Maybe put a movie on my laptop and we can watch it afterwards?”

You looked up at him with begging eyes while holding his hand in yours, he smiled, he couldn’t say no to you, especially now.

“As you wish, princess.” He took your hand to his lips and kissed it playfully, a small giggle escaping you both. “Any movie in particular you desire to watch, your majesty?”

“Okay, cut it out,” you continued to giggle, “just choose one you like, yeah? I’m gonna shower.”

With that, you went to your bathroom to clean yourself up while Andrew went to your room and set everything up, including cleaning himself as best he could and fixing his messy, post-orgasmic appearance.

You came back from the shower after almost an hour, hair still wet, in comfy sweatpants and a tank top. You made your way to your room, waiting to see your angel. He sat there, in bed, scrolling on his phone, hair up in a messy bun. He looked nothing short of adorable— cleaned up nicely too.

Your laptop was next to him. It seems he'd already chosen a movie, Legally Blonde, for some reason. You sank next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“You like chick flicks?” You asked, with a giggled cadence.

“Nothing short of modern masterpieces, they are.” He replied, starting the movie and letting your body adjust against him. You clicked, your arms the perfect length around his waist, your lips the perfect curve against his, your nose perfectly nesting into his pulse.

You fell asleep first. Fast asleep- not stirring in the slightest. He thought your slight snores and weird murmurs were adorable. He'd much rather fall asleep to those than any movie. He closed the laptop and set it on your bedside table, his long arms holding you tight into the late hours.

He ended up having the best sleep in a while— no thoughts of upcoming concerts or snobby dinners to torment him. You somehow made it all stop. In his busy world, you were his only constant. Something he wanted to hold close to and never let go.

——

Andrew adored your face. He saw it everywhere- the pure beauty of it. He saw your beauty in the Irish hillsides. He heard your voice in every old timey love song. Everywhere, everything, it was always you.

In the early morning, he found himself gazing at you again, a long finger tracing your cheek. He sighed contentedly, completely enamored with you. His limbs tangled further into yours. This went on for about half an hour— his sweet touches and comforting, soft kisses.

Your eyes fluttered open. Your first view of the day was Andrew cupping your cheeks, his head tilted. You smiled dorkily at him, your view still unfocused.

“Morning, sleepin’ beauty” He greeted in that soothing Irish lilt of his. You responded with a groan— giving him the opportunity to scoop you up in his arms, holding you to his chest. You giggled into the firm, warm body.

“Hey!” You grogged. He pulled you even further up, paving a path of smooches along your face, whispering sweet nothings.

“So pretty when you wake up, you know that? Sweet, sweet angel… and you're all mine…” he was getting lost in you, reciting all his best praise while you were barely away from the sandman.

It took a while for you to properly wake up. When the consciousness came, you returned his kisses sloppily, hand coming up to tangle in that messy brown hair.

The kisses got more desperate and messy as you went, desperate to taste each other, to catch up on everything you've missed. You grew a little dominant— even a little frustrated. You rolled him over, warranting a whimper, then pulled away, laying on your side next to him.

“You're so needy in the mornings.”

“Huh?” He whispered hoarsely, looking up at you with half lidded eyes.

“I said you're needy in the mornings. All kisses and sweet words…”

You got onto him, warranting a little ‘oomph’ to squeeze out. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding you steadily, groaning as your thigh brushed against him.

You put your thumb in his mouth, slowly grinding and watching as he sucked it at the same pace. The little pacifier kept him quiet, even when you were ruthlessly rutting into his growing hardness.

He looked up at you with shiny eyes before his head tilted to the side, giving you a full view of his beautiful, biteable neck.

You stop grinding for a second. You ached to keep staring into those lovely breaking eyes, “Andy, look up.”

He obediently gazed up at you through thick lashes, mouth biting your thumb a little. You kept going, watching as he tried not to lose his locked stare. His hand moved to your wrist, trying to pull to take your thumb out of his mouth, you shushed him in return, pushing it in a little deeper.

“Keep it in,” you ordered softly, starting to grind on his crotch once more. He listened, lightly biting your thumb to suppress his moans. “That’s it, good boy.” You added in a sultry whisper.

Andrew’s eyes shot open, you felt his dick harden almost immediately, the size poking at you through the layers of clothing. He pulled your thumb out of his mouth, his eyes dark with lust. His hands moved to your waist and threw you onto the bed, making you whimper.

You looked up at him as he moved on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his long arms. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head with just one hand, then pushed his knee between your legs, smiling devilishly at you.

“Grind.” He ordered, his voice stern yet undeniably full of love for you. His thumb found your clit, tracing obnoxiously slow circles over it.

You obediently rubbed against his knee, the dual stimulation of his finger and your actions making your back mold into an arch. You struggled playfully against his grip, moaning softly as your hips moved.

You kept grinding, eventually losing yourself and collapsing onto him. “Awww, that's not all you have in you, is it, baby?” He teased, his grin widening.

“C’mere, let me treat you.” He spoke in a lowered octave, gently nudging you over, as if asking for permission to take you.

You let him guide you over, your eyes hungry, legs wrapping around his waist. He firmly kissed down the side of your face, sinking down to your clavicle, and getting to work, sucking at it for a good few minutes- summoning giggles that quickly turned to moans of pure desperation. When he finally pulled away, what was left of all the sucking and biting was a reddish purple mark that he blew on, the air sending a shiver down your spine.

“Was that okay, darling? I’m sure you have some turtlenecks you can wear for a couple days if you need them.” He continued to kiss down your body, his voice even more rough. “Though I’d rather you didn’t, the idea of you going out with my mark on display is so fucking hot.”

“I work at a library, I can’t just have hickeys on displa— FUCK!” Andrew sucked on your chest, intending to leave another mark while his hand had traveled down to your core again, only to insert two fingers inside you this time, thrusting away any words left in you.

He smiled as he pulled away again, blowing softly on the second mark he’d left, his eyes already scanning your body in search of a spot for the third and fourth ones, all while never stopping his fingers inside you.

His mouth found your tummy just as his thumb found your clit, you moaned loudly, trying to thrust into his fingers but getting stopped by the rest of him on his quest to mark you fully. Not like you’d complain though, you’d be lying if you said the thought of being marked by him all over didn’t turn you on.

The pattern repeated as he went lower, marking your abdomen a few more times while his fingers worked on you, getting you closer to your climax. He sucked on your inner thigh, leaving his last mark on you before replacing his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking on it while he fingered you still. You screamed from pleasure, your hands gripping the bed sheets as you felt your orgasm washing down on you in intense waves of ecstasy. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and your moans turned into whines, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, almost making out with your clit before sitting back on his heels.

He put his soaked fingers up to your mouth, you welcomed them, sucking off your essence and making Andrew smile. He took one of your legs and put your ankle over his shoulder, straddling your other one in a way that made his cock perfectly align with your entrance. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trailing them down in a path that connected all your hickeys and continued down your belly, pressing down on the weak spot right under your belly button.

You giggled, batting your lashes up at him. Truly, you wanted him to fuck you until your guts split, and the best way to get that would be to put on the innocent act— one that you had quickly learned was his favourite. Even if he knew it was little more than that.

He rubbed the tip of his cock over your soaked folds, watching as you tried to keep the little act up. And it was hard, when he was there, with his chest hair and stupid smirking pretty face. When his hair was in a side part, tossing every time he made a sudden move.

He pinned you down with his lean arms. He squeezed into you, feeling your pussy envelope him, squeezing around his cock in just the right way. He didn’t take the time to ease you in, quickly building the pace up, gritting his teeth. He fucked the woman he loved the most in the most feral way possible.

You loved this side of him, your body instinctively moving your legs to where he perfectly hit your g-spot with each needy thrust. You abruptly came after a few of these- making that your second orgasm.

But he kept going, and you kept laying there and looking so utterly fuckable. Legs spread, tits bouncing, eyes rolling back every time he hit your sweet spot.

“God, you're such a pretty thing. Wish I could just stay inside you all day, keeping me warm…”

He kept going. At this point, your eyes couldn't even keep open. Your nails dug into his back as he leaned closer to you, little half-crescents engraving into his pale skin. He was close to you now, chest sweat dripping onto your face. You could feel his hot breath and hear his beautiful moans, and feel the spit dripping out of his growling mouth.

You yelped as a strange sensation took you, snapping him out of it. You whined and wrapped your leg, that had now fallen off his shoulder, around his hips, practically begging for him to continue his thrusts. You didn't even notice at first— it was him who pulled out. He felt your squirt soak his dick, biting his lip, slapping his dick lightly to try and drain you as you squirted all over him.

“Jesus… You just do that, love?” He whispered lowly, dripping in shock— still incredibly turned on.

“No! I… I didn’t know I could…” You said softly, still trying to catch your breath.

He laughed and leaned in, kissing your cheek, “Well, I'm glad to be the one to help you find out, Mmm?”

He was silent for a few beats, then placed his hand tenderly on your cheek, “Are you okay? Can I keep going?”

“Please put it back in…” You begged.

He smiled. “As you wish, my love.”

He did exactly that, pushing back into you, getting lost in your body once more. Sweet moans escaping him as he chased his own release.

He felt his balls growing tighter, moaning in almost your key, his hot seed bursting into you. He gave you a big dorky smile, still slowly fucking in and out as his cock started to soften.

Andrew leaned in and kissed your face all over, still buried inside you, feeling your warmth around him, and, slowly, coming back to earth from the heaven that you’d taken him to. Your arms enveloped him lovingly, he melted in your gentle touch, his heart swelling with love for you. His eyes widened in a split second, realisation setting in.

“Shit, baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t- christ.” He mumbled apologetically, caressing your face, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I didn’t mean to, angel.”

You looked at him, slightly confused as to why he was apologising so much.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, slowly getting your strength back.

“I didn’t put a condom on, I’m sorry, I completely forgot, I’ll go to the store and get you the pill.” He apologised again, his voice threatening to break from the nerves.

“Andy, hey, calm down,” you smiled, caressing his face with one of your hands. “It’s fine, I’m on birth control, stop worrying.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at you with loving eyes. “Thank God,” he chuckled, kissing your lips for a split second, “still, I’m sorry, I should’ve put one on anyway when I didn’t know if you were on birth control or not.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, taking the moment to finally pull out of you, swallowing your soft whines as he did. His cum flowed out of you, the sight of it making Andrew smile darkly. He went to your bathroom and came back with a washcloth, gently cleaning you up.

“The bed’s wet, love, want me to carry you to mine?” He asked, caressing your cheek with all the tenderness in the world.

You nodded in response, then felt his arms wrap around you and carry you to the guest bedroom he’d been staying in. He laid you on the mattress, you yawned, your legs exhausted. You had to admit, you always got so sleepy after sex. Your exes hated it— but Andrew found it so endearing. He gently tucked you in, kissing your sweat-slick forehead.

“You’re so beautiful, angel. Be a good girl and get some good rest for me. You deserve it.” You reached for him with grabby hands as he threw boxers and a big knit sweater on. He smiled at the sight. “I’ll be back, okay? I just have… something to do. Go to sleep for me. Please, angel.”

So, you— being the sweet, obedient angel that you were, fell asleep after just a few seconds. He got up and washed his messy hands, then got to work on your breakfast. He decided on pancakes. Which he was able to make into somewhat perfect hearts.

He put the pancakes, along with fresh berries, on a platter and brought them in after an hour and a half or so.

He placed them on the bedside table, then gently shook you awake.

“Wake up, love, I made breakfast.” He greeted, like he wasn't deep inside you two hours ago.

You looked up at him with a hazy stare, “You can cook?” You mumbled, looking at the plate.

“Of course I can cook. What other way could I have charmed girls?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, sitting up and placing the heated platter on your lap, “No idea.”

He sat next to you, snacking on some of your berries, watching as you ate. He was possibly the biggest loverboy in the world, obsessed with everything you did.

“What?” You ask, noticing his constant puppylike stare

“I don't want to go back to my house. I want to be like this. For as long as you'll have me.”

God, was he an angel. He really thought you'd grow tired of him?

“Then I think you'll be living in this shitty apartment forever, Andrew.”

“Forever?”

“Or until it finally falls apart and the building collapses on our heads, whatever happens first.” You giggled.

“In that case we could move to mine, then.” He suggested, smiling lovingly. “After the bug problem gets fixed, that is.”

“Be nice to the bugs, technically they’re the ones that brought us together.” You teased, kissing him gently.

“I’ll tell the exterminator to be gentle when killing them.” He teased back, returning the kiss passionately.

[teeth-farie]

Restroom Rendezvous

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)/Reader

…: I’m back from the dead! I can’t guarantee that I’ll post often, but I at least wanted to share something I wrote. Deadpool has been my hyperfixation since I saw DP&W last summer, so this is set right after that. Thanks for reading!

~~

Wade totally wasn’t caught up on Vanessa’s rejection, not at all. Things don’t work out sometimes, and that was fine, really, it was. She let him down easy, he was thankful for that, at the very least. People change. She had and so had he. They simply weren’t what each other needed anymore. 

It hit him bitterly, that he can admit. He spent many long nights drowning his sorrows in ice cream cartons and reruns of the great British bake off, and a couple nights actually drowning himself in the bathtub. It was a rough period, but life goes on. 

He’s since come to terms that romance just isn’t in the cards for him, not when most people ended up nauseous after a first impression. However, that wouldn’t stop him from living vicariously through Logan’s love life. 

He’d put up a good fight so far, but Wade would be damned if he let all that go to waste because The Wolverine doesn’t know how to flirt with this universe's population. Seriously, he’s never seen someone be so politically incorrect and over correct in his life. 

It all leads them to a seedy little bar, but one with enough charm to know you probably won’t be getting an std. Probably.

He has to tug Logan away from the bar and to the pool table before he can get too shitfaced, sighing in exasperation. 

“It’s like you don’t even want to find anyone.”

“You said I’d be getting laid, not that I’d fall in love.”

“Oh, but don’t you just love the trope of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers?”

Logan snorts a puff of air from his nose as he grabs a pool stick and rubs the little thing of blue chalk on the end of it.  

Wade turns to scope the bar population, leaning up against the edge of the pool table as Logan lined up pole tip to white ball, cradled by his fingers. 

“At first I was like, ‘let him have some time, he’s new to this universe’, but now I’m like, ‘fuck it, he’s had enough time!’,” Wade begins, the sounds of pool balls clacking making him roll his eyes. 

“See, that’s exactly it! I took you here to mingle and now you’re huddled away playing fucking pool. Alone. You aren’t even playing with anyone.”

Clack. Roll. 

“I didn’t even think you could play pool alone, it seems like a very obvious two player game, but you do know best,” 

Clack. Thunk!

“OW!!” Wade turns dramatically, hand on his ass to face the other man with a look of betrayal. 

“Did you just hit my ass with a pool ball?”

“Shouldn’t be sittin’ on the table there then, bub.”

Wade frowns and Logan chuckles to himself, jaw flexing with his hidden grin. 

“You’re gonna make me do the work for you, huh? You big baby. You big 5’3 baby.”

SNIKT!

“YEESH, don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m leavin!”

There’s that saying of ‘there’s always more fish in the sea’, but the fish out here look a little too dead eyed for his tastes. Well, Logie’s tastes. 

Just when he’s about to call it quits, he spots you (Duh, you know what you came here for). 

There’s nothing outright that he can pinpoint that draws him to you. Maybe it’s the way you dress, or the way you hold yourself, but something about you makes him feel just about as giddy as a kid in a candy shop. Part of him wonders if maybe he could snatch you for himself. 

Checking his breath in a cupped hand, he winces and shrugs. It’s not like the rest of him was all that better. 

Wade leans up against the bar next to you, dark hoodie shadowing his mottled face under the overhead lights. His smile still gleams, crooked lower teeth and blistered gums. 

“You’ve been looking over at me and my friend a lot, I noticed it.”

“Ah, guilty as charged.” You respond, a split smile, beer on your breath. “I’m sorry though, if it made you uncomfortable.”

“No! No no, the opposite, actually,” he sits down on the barstool, leaning on his elbows against the sticky countertop. “See, my friend over there,” he points over his shoulder, voice suddenly low and conspirative.

 You follow the point of his thumb to his friend, thick and burly, bent over the edge of the pool table to line up another shot. Truly a magnificent specimen, but your eyes don’t seem to be on that prize. 

“I’ve been trying to set him up for ages now, and between you and me, he thinks you’re real cute.”

“He does, does he?” 

“Oh yeah, super cute. He might seem like an asshole, but he’s a real softie at the center, all gooey and shit.”

“Mhm,”

“Ok, ok, I see I’m losing you a bit- but what’s the harm? Come on over, just don’t say I brought you over here.”

You sigh, resting your cheek on your palm, and he can’t help but feel a little scrutinized under your gaze. 

“You know, it wasn’t him I was staring at.”

“I…oh, pfft, yeah, this whole thing,” he gestures to his face, scarred and tumored flesh pulled taut and tender. “Wanted a ticket to the freak show?”

“No, not like that,” you say quickly, a little hot in embarrassment. “I meant, I think you’re…cute.”

Wade almost balks at you, silent before scoffing. “Cute? Pardon my French, but are you fucking blind?”

You laugh, and you’re a little worried that you probably shouldn't have. “Listen…”

“Wilson. Wade Wilson. Did that sound cool?”

“Wade,” you say, and the way you say it makes him feel all tingly at the base of his spine. “You seem like you really love your friend.”

“Totally! We’re BFF’s, best friends forever, we’ve got the matching necklaces, too.” He tugs on the thin chain dangled around his neck, a half heart charm jingling underneath his hoodie. 

You’re resting your hand on his thigh, a deliberate movement that makes his fingers twitch a little, necklace falling back under his shirt. You lick your lips a little, and he’s back under your spell.

“Wouldn’t your friend want you to…have a little fun?”

His mouth falls open to say something, then closes, then opens again. “F..fun? I like fun, what kinda fun are we talking about?”

Your head leans back with a laugh at his flustering, hand squeezing his thigh just a little tighter. He shifts in his seat and you notice it, of course you do. 

“The kind of fun where you follow me into the bathrooms and I,” you stop, fingers inching up just a little bit higher on his thigh, just shy of bumping this fic rating from mature up to explicit. “Well,” you sigh out, and move your hand away entirely. “I wouldn’t want to give it away, not when you can come see for yourself.”

“Yes,” he strains, leaning up in his seat like he was ready to jump you right then and there. “I want that, I wanna have some fun with you—if, if you still want it?”

“Honey, I’ve been groping you for the last minute, of course I still want to.”

“Right! Right, right, right,”

“Leave a bit of distance, don’t make it so obvious,” you say to him, getting up from your seat and nodding towards the bathrooms with a wink before you leave. 

Wade’s heart pounds in his ears almost louder than the bar's music. Surprisingly jazzy, they probably came on a themed night. In ways, he thinks his heart might be singing too. 

He looks over to Logan, finding him still at that damn table. At least this time it looks like someone’s joined him, or he hopes so. He really wants to be following you right now. 

Then, with a skittish bit of flair, Wade slinks away into the crowd. 

—

Wade’s tarnished skin feels impossibly hot when your mouth makes contact, lips and tongue over the length of his jugular. His hands wander, catching on your clothing, rumpling the fabric under his grip. Yeah, this fic is getting rated explicit. 

“This is fucked,” he huffs, head lolling back against the bathroom stall. You make a questioning sound against his neck and his whole body shivers. “S’posed to be hooking you up with Lo’, not…not…” you’ve found the tender little spot below his ear as he speaks, blunt teeth pressing firm and he hates how reactive he is to it. 

“God, you’re not playing fair, this isn’t fair,” he wheedles, tugging on your clothes. 

You laugh and wiggle your leg between his, hip pressing against his groin, and you’re pleased to find him half chubbed already. “If I were fair, I’d be talking to your friend right now instead of kissing a cutie in the bathroom.”

“I’m- am I the cutie?”

“Yes, you’re the cutie.”

You’re mouthing lower and Wade is sure his heart is going to burst from his chest Alien style. Your teeth catch on the chain of his necklace, a touch of your tongue against his skin and you tug, breathing out a laugh when he whimpers. 

“That shouldn’t have been so hot,”

“But aren’t you glad it was?” 

You’re only stopped by the neckline of his hoodie, lavishing your mouth over the exposed skin of his throat. He’s breathing heavy, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your teeth. 

He’d never thought anyone would want to be close to his cancer riddled skin, let alone kiss. The scabbing and sores of his skin don’t bother you, you devour him all the same. 

Just as he thinks it can’t get any better, he feels your fingers tug on the waistband of his jeans. 

“Is this ok?” You’re asking, all soft and hushed, like you haven’t unraveled him at the very seams. 

“Uh,” he stammers like an idiot, flushed red and sweating. “Yes, yes, it’s ok, it’s more than ok, actually! I’d really uh, it’d be totally cool, totally consensual—“

You cut him off with a kiss, fumbling with his buttons and pulling down the zipper with a huff puffed from your nose. 

His pants shuck down easily enough, caught around his thighs while your hand finds his erection. The first touch is like bliss, your fingers wrapping around his mottled cock and tugging, toying with the foreskin around the tender head. 

You make a pleased sound, reverberating into his mouth as you give him a testing squeeze, his hips canting forward. 

It feels better than he anticipated, much better, though he supposes it’s due to only having his right (and left) hand for a while. 

“No undies, huh?” You’re laughing, a sickly sweet sound that makes his knees feel weak. “And here I thought you were just trying to set your friend up. Were you hoping for this all along?”

He shakes his head, though it’s more like a frantic twitch. “Huuh, nuh-uh,” 

“No? I think you did,” his cock weeps enough to make the slide of your fist easy, the soft palm of your hand so much better than his own blistered one. “I think you were hoping I’d pick you, that I’d come kiss you all better, make you feel good.”

“Please,” is all he can muster, nosing against your head with a pitiful sound. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you croon, letting go of his cock to put your cupped palm below his chin, expectant. “Come on, get it wet for me, Wade.”

It’s all but purred, the way you say it. Like butter and cotton candy had a baby and it was your voice. And he’s obeying, gathering the saliva in his mouth and spitting it into your palm, flushed red hot and wanting. 

“Good boy,” you whisper and he thinks he’s in love. 

Your wet hand is grabbing his cock again, slick and dripping. 

“Tell me what you like, cutie.”

“Tighter? Oof- not that tight, j-just kinda- ohhh,”

His body feels like it’s blooming, warmth flooding into his nerves different from the anxious, hormonal flush of his blood. He sucks his lip in between his teeth, eyes rolling when the web of your finger and thumb catch on the head.  

“Now that’s a pretty expression,” up and down, up and down, wet and messy. “I think it’s cool, how your dick is like the rest of you. Nice on the hands…” you thumb over the uneven skin, thumb pressing against the more tender and raw flesh, pulsing with his heartbeat. 

“Oh, ha..haha, r-ribbed for your pleasure, amiright?”

“Oh, Wade…” your tongue slides across the shell of his ear, saccharine voice a heady whisper. “I’m not the one that’s gonna be bent over.” 

“Oh my god,” he wheezes, hands shooting up to cover his face in near comedic embarrassment. 

You laugh in his ear and it sounds utterly mocking, your voice trailing off into a sigh of a moan (which isn’t helping him in the slightest- or it is, and that’s why he’s suffering).

“God, you’re wet, I don’t think I even needed you to spit at all.” You thumb over the head, a back and forth rub that gets your fingertips sticky with his pre. “Look at that, like a fucking garden hose.”

Wade huffs loudly through his hands, spreading his fingers to peek out, pupils dilated under the milky sheen of his eyes. “Don’t stop,” it comes out strained and weak when he says it. “K-keep talking, I need- I-I—“ 

His hips jerk in aborted thrusts, biting on his own tongue when his teeth clench. He whimpers, and you kiss him better, tongue against tongue. 

“Close,” he still tries to whimper anyway, his balls drawing up to his body in anticipation, the building of his orgasm festering in his gut. 

“Close? Alright, alright,” you start to shuffle him forward and he makes an indignant sound when he’s pulled away from your mouth. “Aw, don’t look at me like that, I’m just trying to avoid getting a stain on my clothes.”

You position him over the toilet and he grabs at the tank of it, your hand wrapping around him from behind and pointing his cock down to the bowl. It’s not the first time he's jerked off over a toilet, but this time is definitely more enjoyable. 

“There you go,” he can hear the smile in your voice, feel your hands wrapped tight around him. It makes him feel kinda jelly inside, soft and jiggly and vulnerable. 

He finds himself holding onto the hand on his stomach, your other making quick work of his erection, pumping quickly to push him right back to the edge again. 

“C-can you,” he swallows, tries to catch his bearings. 

“Can I what, sweetheart?” 

It only makes him whine, a gutteral noise from the back of his throat. “Say I’m good,”

“Ha, you want to be a good boy? Want me to call you that?”

“Please,” really, it’s all he wants. At least in the moment. Or maybe after too, think about the way he made you happy and apply that to himself so he doesn’t seem like that much of a fuck up anymore. 

You don’t notice his inner quarrels, of course you don’t, but you still squeeze his hand back, dig your thumb into just the right spots with your other to make him push back against you. It’s enough to tip him over from the edge where he teetered, down into the fallen abyss or whatever poetic shit his mind could conjure. 

You keep his cock aimed and he spills into the toilet, shuddering with the force of it. It’s the deep rooted kind of orgasm, the kind that makes your eyes roll and bones go gelatinous. Yeah, that kind. It’s honestly the best orgasm he’s had in months, he thinks he could actually cry. 

No, scratch that, it’s not hot to cry after sex, even if it’s a bathroom handy. 

He feels your hand move up and down against his stomach, petting him, such a soft action that he does sniffle a little. 

“Good boy,” you say to him, tender, kind. 

Oh boy, here comes the waterworks. 

—

Wade would have been an idiot not to have grabbed your number after that night. Actually, it’s more like you grabbed his phone and put your number in yourself, which made him fall just ever a little bit more in love. 

It’s scary, he thinks, to try again after so much heartbreak. Vanessa would always be his friend, even if at one point, he had still wished it to be more. Actually, he thinks she might be proud of him for making another new friend, and that thought does make him feel warm inside. 

He meets you today at a cute little coffee shop for a technical first date after the restroom rendezvous (which he’s still surprised got no knocks on the door, thanks author).

It’s cliche, sickeningly so, but it’s so healing to his mangled up little heart that he’s damn well bringing a bouquet with him, too.

He knows it’s your favorite spot, not because you told him, but because he did some light stalking on his own. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with doing a little research! He had to make sure you weren’t an ax murderer or something (which would have just been another score in his book). 

He watches you from the window of the shop for a minute, a certain type of nervousness gnawing in his chest, more so than he felt with you before. Maybe it’s because this time it’s more than just a mindless fling. Maybe he just really likes you. 

You catch him when you look up from your phone, giving him a wave through the window and he gathers himself up once more, and pushes open the door. 

[therealcocoshady]

Kinktober Day 7 - Cream Pie

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : first post of 2025 !!! And I felt like sharing a little something I wrote a while ago and got to finalizing recently ! 😉❤️. I hope you enjoy it !

CW : Creampie

Marshall just loves to give you a cream pie. As soon as things got remotely serious between the two of you, he almost begged for a « no condom » policy. « We’re exclusive and our test results came back clean», he argued. As for you, you were pretty indifferent. If anything, you found condoms to be quite practical. They didn’t bother you and, as an added bonus, they spared you the awful side effects of the various contraception methods you’d tried over the years. Therefore, you weren’t exactly thrilled when he suggested getting rid of them. « Does that make that much of a difference ? », you’d asked. Of course, the man proceeded to explain to you that, yes, it did made a whole lot of a difference. And when you argued that some rubber brands promise that their products feel like nothing’s there and that your ex never complained, he was forced to admit to you that he had a cream pie kink. « Isn’t that just a weird way of saying you enjoy cumming inside ? » you asked said with a raised eyebrow. He let out an awkward chuckle. He seemed kind of nervous to talk about it but he cleared his throat and proceeded to explain with more details. « It’s not really about that. I mean, yeah, it is, but there’s more. With a condom sex still feels good but there’s this thing between us, you know ? I don’t want to have a barrier. I don’t know, it’s feel like a… deeper connection. » he said. You smiled and placed a tender kiss on his jaw. « Careful, handsome, I’m going to think you’re actually a softie », you teased playfully. He huffed and gave you a smirk. « Soft, huh ? » he mused. « Well, yeah », you shrugged. « Getting all romantic, wanting to be all close to me ». He hummed and cupped your jaw before inching just a little closer to you. « You should hold that thought for when I have my way with you without holding back and I claim all your holes as mine. We’ll see how romantic you find it then. ». Your eyes widened as he spoke, causing him to smirk even more. You stayed silent for a second, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. « All my holes ? » you asked with a soft grin. Clearly, the man knew who he was dealing with. You had not done anal with him yet, but you had mentioned enjoying it and, clearly, he remembered. « All of them », he repeated with a promising smile. « And… No holding back ? » you quizzed. « Nope ». Of course, that did the trick convincing you. He knew you liked it rough, and the perspective of him getting territorial and feral, claiming ownership over you was much too enticing. You’d even go so far as to say it was absolutely worth the six additional pounds you gained in a couple weeks after going on the pill. 

Safe to say Marshall did not disappoint.  As soon as the two of you were positive there was no risk of pregnancy, he went absolutely feral. You’d had sex before - great sex, you’d say, probably the best you’d ever had - but allowing him to hit it raw seemed to change everything. For one, he became demonically horny. You had figured he already had a high sex drive but, boy, were you wrong. It started as soon as the words left your lips. « Yeah, it’s safe to  do it without -». He didn’t even let you finish. You saw the immediate change of shade in his eyes, a smirk forming on his lips. You could literally feel him radiate heat. He immediately closed the distance between the two of you, his tattooed arms bracketing you against the wall with an undeniable presence. You felt the strength in his body as he pressed your back, the coolness of the wall contrasting with the warmth that emanated from him. His blue eyes locked onto yours for a brief moment, searching, before his lips descended on yours with a fervor that made your breath hitch. The kiss was deep, his beard grazing your skin, adding an extra layer of sensation. His hands, rough but confident, slid along your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, pressing every inch of his body against yours. The kiss  quickly grew more urgent, more insistent, as he tilted your head back with one hand, deepening the connection, savoring the taste of you. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, desperate to ground yourself as his mouth trailed from your lips to your jaw, then to the sensitive skin of your neck. Your breathing became ragged, mingling in the heated space between you. He was pressed against you and the gray sweatpants he was wearing did nothing to prevent you from feeling his excitement. His lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, where he planted lust-filled open-mouth kisses that sent shivers down your spine. His hands were holding you firmly, possessively, fingers digging in your hips. You hummed in please, unable to focus on anything but his grounding presence. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively, seeking more of the heat and pressure he offered. His mouth moved lower, brushing along your collarbone, tasting, teasing, before returning to your lips with renewed urgency. This time, the kiss felt hungrier, more demanding, as if he was trying to draw every ounce of you into him. One of his hands tangled in your hair, tilting your head back just the way he wanted it, while the other glided down your spine, anchoring you to him. He pressed closer, letting you feel the hard lines of his body, the weight of him pinning you firmly against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a gentle nip that sent a shiver racing through you, followed by a soothing sweep of his tongue that left you breathless.You melted against him, hands exploring the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles flex and shift under your touch. He growled softly against your lips, a low, rough sound that vibrates through you, stirring something deep and primal. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a claim, an unspoken promise of more to come, and as he drew back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire, full of unspoken words that made your heart skip a beat.

It didn’t take long for your clothes to lay forgotten in a corner of the bedroom, Marshall practically ripping them off your body, as if he couldn’t stand any barrier between your body and his hands. And when he finally held you, you could feel his fingers digging in your skin. Throughout your relationship, he’d always shown appreciation for your body. But he seemed to be on another level, practically worshipping you, muttering words of ownership, promising to make you his. And when you finally felt him - just him - inside of you, the room filled with sighs of satisfaction. It was, quite literally, raw and primal. As promised, he didn’t hold back, encouraged by every gasp, moan and whimper you let out, every scratch of your nails in his back. You felt your eyes roll back, amazed that you’d waited this long to try this. You were on the edge of climax when you warned him. « Marshall, I-I’m gonna- » you moaned, almost pleading for him to take you there. He usually liked to keep you on the edge, sometimes denying you but, this time, none of you felt like beating around the bush. Especially not with the words that fell from your lips. « Fill me. Please »you almost whispered. It didn’t take much more for him to get absolutely unhinged with his thrusts. He tightened his hold around you and you could feel him - actually feel him - fill you to the hilt while you repeated his name like a prayer. When his hips finally stilled, the two of you stayed like that for a moment, catching your breaths. Your face was buried in his neck and none of you moved, as if the world had stopped turning. You could practically hear your own heart pounding. When he rolled to the side, you winced and immediately felt the mess he had made between your legs. 

You stayed like this, looking g as if your soul had left your body, while he looked at you with a shit-eating grin. « You alright, babe? » he asked with feigned innocence. You turned to him and nodded, still catching your breath. « You really weren’t kidding » you hummed, to which he chuckled. « Told you I’d claim this pussy as mine » he added with a wink. « And I’m not done with you yet ». 

[esamastation]

Here's another original LITRPG thing I wrote a while back, which I just realised I never posted anywhere.

In which a guy named John has just died and is about to be Isekaied into a new world.

-

Upon his death, John remembers everything - and promptly fist pumps the universe. "Oh, hell yeah!"

Before him floats the Tutorial. "Welcome back, Ser Afathion - or do you prefer Mr. John Castle?"

"Just call me John, please," John says, grinning from ear to ear. "Man, that was a good life! How did I do, how are my points? Bet I got a whole bunch from that war! And the relationships - that love triangle must've netted me a fortune!"

"You did very well indeed, John," the Tutorial says and produces a logbook - a glowing rectangle of text that hangs in the air between them. "Your life as John Castle was evaluated at 4.7 million System Credits. Congratulations."

"Awww yes!" John pumps his fist again. "Damn, but Earth is good for points!"

"Indeed. Would you like to take a look at your balance sheet?"

"Yes please!"

Another glowing window of text appears, detailing the arcs of John Castle's life and their worth. By themselves the events of his life weren't worth much, but the various roles he'd played stacked up to a decent enough point total. He'd played minor roles in three big war narratives that had had a decent following, and though he wasn't the main character in the love triangle, his ex ended up as a popular drama lead with a big following. And apparently he'd played the part of an enemy for three different people!

Though it's a bit disappointing that his life hadn't gotten him the Protagonist title, John's fine having played the side and background characters in the lives of more interesting people. His life was nice, if a bit short, and he could've done much worse than 4.7 million credits.

The Tutorial shoots a party popper over him, and John beams happily. "Did I get any sponsors?"

"No, but you received these offers," the Tutorial says, and a number of logos appear in the air, arrayed in a grid. Some of them offer discounts, others promise unique opportunities and a couple proclaim to be spiritually the healthy option.

John dismisses those ones off hand and points at the one that caught his eye first. "The Adventure Guild? Aren't they fully booked for, like, centuries?"

"There was a war on the server," the Tutorial explains. "Over a million characters died, and they're looking to repopulate."

"Huh. And their character packages?"

The Tutorial shows him the standard packages for the Adventure Guild's server. They start from low level mob and peasant packages that cost a few hundred thousand - and have the expected lifespan of a couple decades at most - to a high elf noble package that costs billions of credits and might last for a couple of millennia. The best John could afford in the Adventure Guild's Server is a merchant family with 10 extra stats points to start with - stat points?

"Stat points?" John asks.

"The Adventure Guild server is System Enabled," the Tutorial explains. "These are all transmigration packages."

"Get outta here! Transmigration package, me? In an Adventure Guild server?" John sputters, and then narrows his eyes. "Those things cost a fortune! What's the catch?"

"It's part of a new World Narrative the Adventure Guild is starting," the Tutorial explains. "They're looking specifically for players that have just come from Earth - your last life will be the one you'll be transmigrating from."

"Wow," John murmurs, wondering what kind of story the Adventure Guild might be building up. They're pretty known for their big narratives, and they're super popular as galactic entertainment goes - there's a reason why even cheap roles in their server are always fully booked. Even playing the part of collateral damage in a random bar fight on Adventure Guild server could net you pretty decent royalties. Never mind being hella fun.

If they've opened the server to someone like him, that means the place probably has a lot of new players. And that usually means there's a big thing coming, a war or apocalypse or something, and they needed a lot of fresh cannon fodder. And a bunch of Earth transmigrations in a post war Adventure Guild server?

"I am so in," John breathes excitedly. "What kind of customisation options do I have?"

"These are the species available," the Tutorial says and pops open a whole array of character customisation windows. "From the most affordable to the less so."

"And stat points?"

"Each race starts with a set amount specific for the race. Extra points cost a hundred thousand System credits per point."

So, basically, John could be a goblin with a lifespan of twenty years and start with 44 extra points to allocate as he chose, or he could become a dwarf orphan with an estimated lifespan of three hundred years, but he'd be starting without any extra stat points. The human merchant family with extra 10 points is pretty good value for his money, honestly, seeing as humans already start with 10, but… it sounded pretty boring.

Running a hand over his chin John tried to think of how to make most of this opportunity. "What's the cost of ambitions in the server? How about natural talents?"

A lot, it turns out. Good ambitions cost millions, as did talents. Dang, but Adventure Guild is expensive.

"You start with all of John Castle's knowledge," the Tutorial reminds him. "And his ambitions."

Sure, but John Castle's biggest ambition in the end was owning a nice car and not dying of cancer - and he'd failed in both, pretty much. He can't even remember if he had any life goals when he'd been a young man. Probably not, seeing as he hadn't really amounted to much. It's why he hadn't gained more points during his life - he'd gone into that life without any interesting traits, and it showed. He'd lived and died pretty quietly.

It would be nice to live a little more interesting life this time.

"Let's try random generation," John says. "Maybe I'll get some ideas."

Obligingly the Tutorial opens an empty character creation screen, and John inserts the number of credits he wants to use, 3 million. That way he'd have 1.7 million to spend on stat points and other things.

The first he gets is an awakened dog with high stamina and potential as a special mount. The second is an orc from an exiled clan - classic minor enemy encounter fodder. The third is a bird familiar with fire abilities - which is honestly a little tempting, though he wouldn't be able to speak, except to his master.

"Rule out non-humanoid creatures," John decides and folds his arms. "I want to be able to speak and, you know, have hands."

"Limiting selection to creatures when hands and the ability to speak "

The selection is limited indeed. Peasant human born to farmers, ghoul foot soldier, peasant human born to a tavern wench, skeleton serving a necromancer, orphan peasant human, sickly elf with a lifespan of five years, peasant human born to a smith…

"Perhaps we could narrow the search criteria," the Tutorial suggests. "What kind of life are you interested in living?"

"Something loud and bombastic," John says and thinks about it. "Since it's basically a fantasy world, I want to fight a bunch. Like, properly fight, not just be caught in the crossfire as a poor hapless victim - I wanna be the person running headlong into trouble because it's fun, you know? Like, you know, a good old style fantasy adventure protagonist."

The Tutorial considers it for a moment and then says.  "You do not have enough credits for the protagonist tag. However I have sent a query to the Adventure Guild, and they have a suggestion. Would you like to take on a curse?"

John perks up interestedly. "What kind of curse? Would it cost me points, or would it award me points?"

In answer the Tutorial opens up a status window - with a whole dropdown menu of available options. And it turns out that while most curses had a cost, there were some curses that would give John extra System credits to use. Sadly he could only choose one, but even so…

The curse that would give him the most was called the Puppet Curse, which would give a viewer - or a Server Admin - the ability to puppeteer him for a while if they paid him for it. It was worth a million just by itself - with the potential of being paid more as the curse was being used.

"Dayyym," John murmurs. "That's interesting."

It kinda seems like a quick way to get himself killed, though - he can just imagine some bored rich viewer using him to instigate a war just for fun, and then he'd be hanging by the neck in the nearest tree. No thank you!

The next most profitable curse was the Mouthpiece which was kind of the same as Puppet Curse, but it basically would make him say things the viewers - or admin - wanted him to say. Very useful for instigating drama! Also a good way to get himself killed.

The curses that cost him rather than awarding him points are a bit better. Designed to make things more interesting, they range from the Werewolf Curse - 1.5 million - to Curse of Sleepwalking - 400 thousand. There's a whole lot of different ones, some more interesting than others, and the one that catches his eye is the Bad Luck Curse. At 750 thousand credits it's not cheap but it looks like it would definitely make things interesting for him.

… or get him killed.

Ugh. It's this kind of hemming and hawing that made his previous life kinda boring!

"You know what, to hell with it," John says, turning to the Tutorial. "Can I send a question to the Server Admins? I want to know if there's a way to limit the Puppet Curse to Admin use only - it seems like the most interesting one, but I don't like the idea of a random viewer using it and getting me killed for kicks."

"I will send the query," the Tutorial says. There's a moment of silence, during which John idly hits the randomiser on the character customisation screen, trying to settle on a character. Human, human, orc, human, goblin, human, human, human, skeleton, human, human, human… Well, as a human he could start with as many as 27 stat points, assuming he spent 1.7 million on extra points, which definitely isn't bad, but… it's so boring.

Why does everything more interesting have to be so expensive?

Then the Tutorial opens a contract screen.

[Puppet's Very Specific Curse] [Contract]

[The undersigned hereby accepts the Puppet's Very Specific Curse for their character for the duration of their stay in the Adventure Guild's server. The victim of this curse can be at any moment subjected to System control, and can be piloted by any employee of the Adventure Guild, to do with as they wish. The undersigned hereby acknowledges that Adventure Guild is in no way responsible for any spiritual, emotional or mental damages caused by this curse.]

[Time limit: ?] [Mana cost: ?] [Cure: ?] [Reward: 1 000 000 store credits now and 1 stat points per activation]

John reads through the screen once, twice, three times, and then looks at the Tutorial. "Store credits only - and no credits per activation?"

"Without viewer participation, the Guild isn't expecting any returns, so, no," the Tutorial agreed. "And you must remember, the Server Admins already have their own characters and do not need an agent on the server. You might come in handy, but you're not necessary."

"Fair enough," John muses, shrugs his shoulders and then accepts the contract. One stat point per activation is way too good to pass by, even if it's not as good as a flat fee of System credits would've been. "Alright, 5.7 million credits to use! Ka-ching! Here's hoping I won't regret this."

"You won't - you will have no knowledge of it," the Tutorial says ominously. "You won't remember any of this, only your life as John Castle."

"Sounds like I'm in for some interesting times, then," John says, grinning. It's about time, too. "Now, any chance of talking down the price on the Bad Luck Curse? No? Alright, let's try the randomiser again, shall we?"

-

If you guys remember that series poll I did a while back, making a generic fantasy character who then turned into a fox beast person Bard, lol. I wrote 6 chapters of this, and then it sort of petered off - but I still like it.

... I didn't even give the poor story a name, it's just called "LITRPG" in my files, haha

[ret1cent]

on my mind

josh dun x fem reader

you wanted my heart but i just liked your tattoos poured it down, so i poured it down with you

and now i don’t understand why i got you on my mind?

warnings: smut, porn with a plot, smoking (weed), slight drinking, language, oral (fem receiving), face riding, penetration, josh is very much a giver in this, unprotected sex (be safe y’all don’t do that), slight praise kink, fluffy ending, proofread very lightly

WC: 7,000+

a/n: i wrote this very casually since i’m putting my energy into my main series right now, but i got this idea so i wanted to write it :) excuse any grammar or spelling errors it’s not proofread perfectly! this is the first smut i’ve written in a long time so just keep that in mind lol :p also i was young during this era of tumblr so excuse me if i get any terminology or vibes wrong lmao

summary: it’s 2014 and you’re tumblr famous. after he recently joined the platform, josh dun of twenty one pilots follows you. you aren’t quite sure who he is at first, with only slight knowledge about the band. but as you get to chat and know each other more he invites you to a show and to get a drink after, but it’s never just a drink is it?

i sit at my desk on call with my friend sam, the fairy lights strung across the wall and the glow of the computer screen being the only sources of light. i scroll through my tumblr as we chat, scrolling through some notifications and replying to a few notes.

i had somewhat of a reputation of the platform, some even referring to me as tumblr famous. i was well known on the more grunge side of things, posting aesthetic photography of record stores, ciggerates with edgy lryics on them, you get the gist. but i also occasionally posted pictures of myself, mostly to show off cute outfits or new hair colors, but i was pretty insecure about posting myself. the reason i had been on the phone with sam was actually because she had spurred me on to post a slightly suggestive picture of myself and i needed mental support. it was of me in a small tank, a black skater skirt with black matching thigh highs and chokers adorned on my neck as i lay on my side in my bed. in it my face rested against my hand, my thumb resting against my parted lips. i had edited an array of emoji around me that matched the color tones of the photo in a satisfying way.

the post had done numbers, but now i unfortunately had to deal with the anxiety of being this widely perceived.

“ughh why did i post it.” i groan, burying my face in my hands.

“dude stop you look so hot!” sam defends the photo. “people are loving it, you have no reason to worry.” she soothes me.

sam was somewhat of a life coach when it came to my insecurities and about posting myself like this. she often was the only reason i posted pictures i had been planning to keep to myself, she was my number one hype man and i was beyond grateful to have her in my life. i just didn’t fully appreciate that aspect of her right in the moment of clarity after a post starts getting attention.

i scroll through my notifications, not fully paying attention until i saw i had gotten a new follower a few days ago. that itself wasn’t an abnormal occurrence, i just felt strangely drawn to the profile. i scroll down and see this person had liked multiple of my posts before following, and had just liked my recent one. i glance at the username, it reading stillstreet. i click on the profile and look at the users profile picture. huh, he was kind of cute… he didn’t have his name on his blog though, just an x files reference. that’s nerdy, i like it. he had a lot of followers, maybe he was famous for something?

i skim through his posts and reblogs, he seemed sweet and had a sense of humor that reminded me of my own. when i looked further i saw pictures posted of him at the drums playing shows. so he was an artist?

“hey sam, do you know a blog called stillstreet?” i ask curiously.

“uh yeah durr, that’s josh dun!” she says, as if it was an obvious fact.

“who?”

“OH MY GOD i’ve talked about him before!” she complains.

“sam you talk about a minimum of 50 dudes you think are hot a day, i lose track sometimes.” i defend myself and she goes silent.

“ok i honestly can’t argue with that but he’s from twenty one pilots! don’t you know them?”

oh yeah, i knew some of their songs. i heard car radio on playing on the alt rock station often and had a few of their songs liked. people on tumblr also posted about them quite a bit, i just never paid attention enough to know the people behind the band.

“oh that’s who he is?” i ask, shocked. “he just followed me.” i say in confusion, squinting as i went through more of his posts.

“ok haha very funny, i see what you were trying to do now.” sam says unamused, as if she just uncovered some prank i was pulling on her,

“i’m not lying!”

“prove it!” sam says and i turn my camera to my laptop, going to my notfications and scrolling down the one stating that he had followed me.

“OH MY GOD!” sam shouts and i cover my ears, my volume was set all the way up due to her voice being quiet before, as i didn’t expect her to be yelling at any point.

“sam my ears!”

“you have to do something about this oh my god.” she says in disbelief, ignoring my complaint.

“what do you mean ‘do something’, all he did was follow me!” i say with a laugh.

“you don’t know that, you never check your messages!” she argues. that was true, i typically tried to avoid it, as they tended to be a cesspool sometimes.

“ok fine, if it makes you happy.” i say with a roll of my eyes, clicking to message him, expecting to prove sam wrong. to my disbelief, she was right. he did message me. i go silent.

“oh my god… he messaged me.”

“WHAT DID HE SAY?” she shouts again.

“oh my god im turning my volume down now.” i say and then focus to read the message.

stillstreet:hey! sorry to randomly message you like this, i just wanted to say i like your posts a lot, idk if that’s weird or not…

i read the message back to sam, slightly giggling at his obvious anxiety in the message, it was sweet.

“you need to respond back like now.”

“and say what!”

“say oh my gosh thanks! can we fuck?” sam says in an extremely girly voice that sounded nothing like my own.

“SAM stop!”

“i’m sorry he’s hot i would so not be able to control myself.” she whines. “plus if he’s messaging you like that there’s a chance that might be his intention.” she insinuates.

“oh please! all he said was that my posts are cool…”

“yeah he’s trying to start conversation because he saw your posts and thought you were sexy!”

“ok well let me see what’s actually going on.” i say, trying to come up with a reply in my head.

do i just thank him? no the conversation could die there. i had to continue with a question.

(y/n):thank you so much, i really appreciate it. :) how’d you find me?

i ask him, trying to play it cool. i continue conversation with sam, mostly her raving to me about josh dun and twenty one pilots until he replied again.

“ok hold on, he responded.” i say, pausing our conversation to read the message to her.

stillstreet:i saw your photography when i was scrolling through some tags. i checked out your blog since i liked your style and i got to see more of you and your own personal style too and just decided i liked it. you seem like a cool girl :)

“you seem like a cool girl?!” sam repeats back dramatically. “oh i’m wet!”

“SAM oh my god calm yourself!” i scold her, despite the fact i felt myself flush at his words. “jeez you are going crazy over this man i should just send him over to you at this point.” i joke.

“no! you are the chosen one and i respect that, but if you fuck him you are required to give me every detail so i can live vicariously through you.” she says and i roll my eyes with a smile, giving up on stopping her from being vulgar. i pause, trying to think of a suitable response. “i’ll at least give you a cameo in our conversation.” i say to her playfully, starting to type my response.

“josh dun is gonna know i exist? oh my god i could die.” she says, estatic.

(y/n):thank you! <3 yeah photography used to be the only main thing on this blog, i’m a little insecure about posting myself sometimes but my friend sam has been my hype woman for me recently

i responded. maybe i was over sharing … i start to worry but josh responds quickly.

stillstreet:really? well i’m glad you have her, i’m happy to be able to see you. not to be too straightforward but you’re really pretty. i’m really surprised you’re insecure about posting.

my stomach swirls as i read the message in my head.

“(y/n)! what did he say?” sam says, pulling me out of my head. i read the message back to her in disbelief.

“oh my god.” she says, covering her hand with her mouth. (y/n) he wants you…”

i feel my heart beat speed up. this cute band member liked me? i decide to be chill about it, but also let him know i was interested.

(y/n):why thank you, i have to say you aren’t too bad looking yourself ;)

i immediately close my laptop in fear of what he would respond with, maybe that was too bold. “sam distract me!” i say, anxiously fidgeting with my hands.

“ok! let me send you more pictures of your man so you can see what you’re working with.” she says and sends me a bunch of picture’s over imessage. i open the notification, scrolling through them.

“woah, holy shit…” i say, admiring josh’s messy hair, his prominent arm muscle’s and abs, his sweat slicked skin and hair during shows, a mask he would wear that he still looked oddly sexy in, and especially his tattoos. the way the beautiful patchwork spotted across his skin lied just right on his toned arm.

“i know!” sam says, affirming his attractiveness. “his hair’s pink right now it’s soo cute.”

i reopen my laptop to see that josh had responded to me again.

stillstreet: oh really? maybe we should get to know each other more then :)

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

for the rest of that night, me and josh continued conversation getting to know more about each other. we talked about everything, our childhoods, our favorite music, shows and movies. as we got to know each other more over the next few days we even got into deeper topics, such as some of the struggles we face in our personal lives. i’ve never felt so easily connected with someone before, something about him just drew me in. he just got me. i tried not to let myself not get too attached despite this fact, if it was just a hookup he was looking for i would be ok with that. he’s an attractive man and it’s not something i would end up regretting. i lie in bed, staring up at my ceiling until i get a notification. i check it and smile when i see that josh had messaged me.

stillstreet: good morning :)

(y/n):hey! what’s up?

stillstreet: i wanted to ask you something actually

my stomach swirls in anticipation. what was there to ask? was he going to ask to hookup? was he going to ask what it was we were doing? was he going to end whatever it was we had going on?

(y/n):of course, shoot.

stillstreet: well i know that you had mentioned that you live in LA, me and tyler are on tour right now and we’re playing there in a few days. i was wondering if you maybe wanted to come to the show? only if you want to of course

(y/n):yes! i’d love that. not to push my luck but can my friend sam maybe come along? she’ll leave us alone i promise lmao

stillstreet: of course! and don’t even worry about it, i’d love to meet her too. i’ll talk to my crew and get you both backstage passes so you can watch the show comfortably.

(y/n):why thank you sir, i feel like royalty

stillstreet: to me you are!

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

of course when i told sam about the news she was beside herself.

“(y/n) have i told you how much i love you?” sam asks, sitting at the vanity in my room to do her makeup for the show.

“yes frequently and ironically enough it’s been ever since i told you about the tickets!” i say jokingly, sifting through the hangers in my closet, at a loss for what to wear. shirts and tanks were thrown all across the room.

“sam what do i wear?” i groan and she looks over at me.

“aren’t you literally like internet famous for always knowing that?” she asks playfully and i roll my eyes.

“now i wouldn’t say that…”

“you’re too humble for the fact that we’re literally getting ready to go backstage for a twenty one pilots show because the josh dun wants to fuck you.”

“stop saying he wants to fuck me!”

“i’ll stop once you prove me wrong!” she says and goes back to her makeup. “but if i were you i would be bragging my ass off about this.”

i smile and shake my head. “yes i know you would. you’re very predictable in that sense. ok now help me! what do people usually wear to their shows?”

“uhh i don’t know i’ve actually never been to one, but their aesthetic has a lot of blue and red because of their latest album and they also wear skeleton hoodies and ski masks often if that gives you any inspiration.”

“wait… yeah that actually helps a lot.” i say after i get an idea, going to the drawer that holds my tanks and grabbing the black mesh tank i had with skeleton bones on it. i grab a black lace bralette to wear underneath it, an oversized dark blue deinem jacket adorned with rips, and my black pleated skater skirt and thigh highs i wore in my most recent post. i sort through the jewelry on my jewelry tray and grab a blue transparent choker and a red transparent choker.

“oh that’s cute!” sam shouts after i put the outfit on.

“you really think? it’s not doing too much?”

“babe it’s doing just enough he won’t be able to keep his hands off you.” sam says and my stomach swirls at the thought.

i finish the look with a dark matte makeup look, and put my creepers on before heading out to the car with sam to leave for the show.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

me and sam were leaning against the car outside the venue. the sky still gloomy after the aftermath of rain earlier in the day and the smell of damp asphalt was lingering in the air. i hold myself with my arms, slightly shivering.

“maybe this outfit wasn’t the best idea.” i say, hugging myself even tighter as a chilling wind blew.

“you look cute! it’s worth it.” she says, focused on fishing the little container that held the joint we planned to smoke out of her purse. we had no desire to get our buzz from 20 dollar seltzers in the venue and we were both undeniably anxious about going backstage for our own reasons. it was just a little something to take the edge off.

she takes it out of the container, lighting it as her hands slightly tremble. “are you also so incredibly nervous or is it just me?” sam asks, taking a puff and then handing it over to me.

“fuck yeah i am… i hope he likes me in person too.” i say worriedly, taking a hit and passing it back to her.

“at least you’ve already talked to josh, i’m trying to think of like a million things i could say to him and tyler but none of them sound right… i hope it’s not awkward.”

“i’m sure it’ll be fine, they’ll probably be distracted setting up for the show anyway.” i say nervously, taking another puff and sam takes out her camera.

“photo op!” she says taking a picture of me blowing out the smoke and i roll my eyes with a smile.

“thank you my little photographer.” i say playfully.

the two of us finish smoking and start walking to the side entrance that josh told me to go to. as i walk i start to feel the pleasant lightness of the joint, putting a little bit of my nervousness at ease. we were met with a tall, burly slightly intimidating looking security guard.

“hi um our names should be on the list to get it.” i say timidly.

“names?”

i give him our full names and he nods, opening the door for us, revealing two other security guards that led us to the backstage.

as we walked down the dark hall, the sounds of distant rustling and thudding come into earshot as we got closer.

“what if this is just a setup for us to be murdered?” sam asks and i elbow her. “what! this is kinda scary…” she whispers.

but the feeling of unease was lifted when the security guards open the doors for us, leading us to the backstage which was warmly let and filled with crew mates conversing and setting up for the show. amongst the crew mates scattered around were josh and tyler standing in the corner immersed in conversation. the security guards lead us to them and a wave of anxiety washes over me as the boys look up at the two of us. i make eye contact with josh and his eyes light up, him flashing me a warm smile.

“these are your girls right?” one security guard asks and josh slightly chuckles at the wording.

“yeah they are, thank you man.” josh says and the security guard walks away with a nod.

the four of us all stand together, a silence quickly interrupted by giggles, all of us aware of the awkwardness of the situation. this was clearly a new thing for them, which made me feel special in a way. it was nice to know josh wasn’t just always bringing girls backstage, he didn’t seem like the type.

“hi, im tyler nice to meet you guys.” the brunette says kindly, shaking sam and i’s hands.

“i’m (y/n).” i say with a smile and tyler chuckles.

“oh i know this dude hasn’t shut up about you.” tyler says while pointing at his friend, josh smacking his arm and then glaring. “hey i told you i was going to embarrass you man.” tyler says, putting his hands up in defense.

“it feels like my dad’s meeting my girlfriend on prom night.” josh jokes and we all giggle.

sam gets caught up in conversation with tyler about the boy’s music, perfectly toeing the line between fan girl and casual fan. she clearly put a lot of thought into how to act in this situation. josh steps closer to me as sam and tyler were immersed in their own world, leaving the two of us alone.

“i feel like i haven’t properly said hello to you yet.” he says apologetically with a chuckle, then holding his arms out for a hug and i quickly accept it, almost feeling dizzy as my hands wrap around his strong back.

“you guys have fun before this?” josh asks jokingly after he pulls away, picking up the faint scent of weed mixed with the sweet perfume on my clothes.

i laugh softly, embarrassed that this was his first impression of me. “i’m sorry i probably smell like a joint…” i say apologetically, my face hidden in my hands.

“no don’t apologize it’s not too much it smells nice- you smell nice sorry this sounds creepy.” he rushes out, the two of us laughing.

“no it’s not, it’s sweet.” i say, looking at him with a smile and fully taking in his messy pink hair, his friendly hazel eyes, his pink lips and his cute nose ring. not the mention the muscle tank he was wearing that left no room for imagination… something about those damn tattoos really just got me.

he seemed to be analyzing me the same way, his eyes momentarily flicking downwards then upwards again to meet my gaze. “wow, you’re even prettier in person.” he says in a soft disbelief.

i flush softy, my stomach doing somersaults at his words. “why thank you, i could say the same for you sir.” i say and he smiles widely.

“you’re too sweet.”

the two of us walk around the backstage area conversing as josh prepares for the show.

“do you ever get nervous before these things?” i ask, slightly glancing at him as he walks besides me.

“honestly yeah. it’s more before we go on stage thoigh, no matter how many shows i’ve played and how much bigger the venues have gotten i always get that anxious feeling in my stomach. but when i get up there and start playing it all goes away, it feels like im in a trance honestly.” he says and i smile at him admiringly, taking in his passion for his art. he glances over at me, noticing my silence.

“sorry i’m rambling…”

“no no i was just… admiring.” i admit with an embarrassed chuckle. “it’s really cool how passionate you are, it’s inspiring.” i say and he smiles.

“really?”

“really.” i say, the two of us facing each other, a silence lingering as we gazed into each others eyes. he looks down at me, shyly brining his hand up to my face and slightly running his thumb across my jaw, me leaning into the touch.

“josh we’re doing the last sound checks right now.” tyler’s sudden voice startles me out of my hypnotized state. i look over and tyler smiles apologetically, seeing that he had interrupted a moment between us.

“alright, coming!” he replies to him and looks back to me. “i’m sorry, i have to go now.” josh says sadly and reaches out his hand to mine and i take it. “are we still on for drinks after the show?” josh asks with hope.

“of course.” i say with a smile, looking down at our intertwined hands.

“i’m really glad.” he says, squeezing my hand affectionately before he lets go and walks over to meet tyler. “enjoy the show.” josh says looking back at me over his shoulder with a subtle wink.

i smile to myself as he walks away, letting out a startled yelp when i suddenly felt a pair of hands on my shoulders.

“oh my god you guys are so cute!” sam gushes, slightly shaking me.

“sam you scared the shit out of me!”

“were you guys gonna kiss? oh my god the tension was crazzyy!” she says, ignoring my comment.

“wait you were watching us?”

“uh duh i found a hiding spot and i needed to see how things were going with you two!”

“you creep!” i say and slightly shove her, her sticking her tongue out in retaliation.

“were you flirting with tyler?” i joke and she shakes her head.

“nahh he has a girlfriend i’m not that kinda girl, but i did kinda hit it off with one of the crew members.” she says and i laugh.

“damn girl you had a whole agenda for like the hour i was gone!”

“hey i had to entertain myself somehow while you and josh have been away getting all lovey dovey!”

i attempt to front annoyance but couldn’t even hide how happy i was about all of this, a smile slowly growing on my face. sam catches on and playfully nudges me.

“this is a good night huh?” she asks with a smile.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

the show was amazing. i didn’t know what to expect from just the two of them, but the amount of energy they had completely made up for the lack of other members. the songs were beautiful and josh’s drumming was phenomenal. something about him when he was performing was so enigmatic. the way he seemed to get lost in the beat, the way his sweat slicked skin glistened under the glowing lights, the way he couldn’t help but smile when the crowd cheered his name. he would occasionally look back at me, flashing a smile when he had the chance. it made me feel a type of way i hadn’t felt before.

to say sam enjoyed the show was an understatement. the whole time she was jumping and yelling the lyrics, dancing and making me dance with her against my will. i was overjoyed by the fact that i got to give her this experience while also having my own special experience with josh. the two of us had parted ways when me and josh had left to get drinks, her also leaving with the crew member she’d been telling me about.

“hey we’re both getting lucky tonight!” she had cheered to me, which of course earned her an eye roll.

now, josh and i sat at the counter of a hip bar downtown, led signs reflecting a red shine on our faces and the sound of artic monkeys playing lightly from a jukebox in the background. i sip on a blackberry-basil martini, the sweetness mixing pleasantly with the slight burn of the alcohol.

“that show was amazing, i’ve never seen anything like that.” i say to josh, trying not to gush too much.

he smiles sheepishly, taking a small sip of his drink. “thank you, that really means a lot coming from you.” he says genuinely.

“just seeing you play up there too i don’t know your energy is just… magnetic.” i admit and he tilts his head in interest, his eyes locking with mine as he leans forward slightly.

“how so?” he asks teasingly, his pearly teeth slightly revealed as he chuckles softly.

“i don’t knowww.” i drag out, embarrassed and letting out a slight laugh, hoping he’d just drop the topic.

“aw come on don’t get all shy on me.” he says, playfully nudging my arm.

“you’re just.. the way you get so lost in the drums.. it’s like you’re on another planet. and the way you glow under the lights it’s like you’re an angel or something.” i say with a slight giggle, him softly laughing too. “yeah… i don’t know it’s just something about.. sorry never mind this it weird of me.” i stop myself, embarrassed

“what?” he asks playfully. “c’mon you can say it.” he says, his light demeanor spurring me on to continue.

“the way you play with such relish, the way you tilt your head back and take everything in i…” i start trailing off, slightly flushing as i felt his intent gaze on me. “i’m trying to find an artsy way to say this but i can’t. it’s just really fucking hot.” i admit, the slight buzz from this drink and my previous one giving me a boost of confidence.

i watch a slight smirk form on his pink lips as he looks at me, me tilting my head away in embarrassment.

“really?” he asks softly

“really.” i admit, meeting his gaze, my face still flushed.

he chuckles, bringing a hand to my cheek briefly to stroke the warm skin streaked with a soft pink. “you’re really cute you know that?” he asks and i shake my head in response.

“no, really.” he says, matching my previous response, his pupils slightly dilating as we hold the eye contact.

my whole body starts to feel warm, and all the sudden the need to jump his bones started to feel irresistible.

“hey… you don’t have to say yes i completely understand if you’re not comfortable with this but.. me and tyler are staying at a hotel nearby and i have a room alone tonight. would you maybe wanna… spend the night?” he asks gently, seeming the have the exact same thoughts running through his mind as i did.

“yes, that sounds great…” i reply, quickly catching onto what he was insinuating.

after he pays the tab the two of us walk to the hotel hand in hand, his thumb stroking my hand lightly as the sounds of the city droned on in the background. we walk in silence, not an uncomfortable silence, but one that held an air of anticipation.

after we had walked into the lobby, the pace of our walk had slightly picked up, almost speed walking as we went down the hall leading to his room. he lets go of my hand to swipe his key card and lets us in, quickly shutting the door behind us. almost immediately, his hands found my waist and i grabbed onto his shoulder and the back of his neck, leaning him into me so our lips touched.

he quickly reacts, matching the pace of my lips, his lips soft against my own as he ran his tongue across my bottom lip. i let my tongue softly graze across his, the warm feeling sending a deep sensation right to my core. i lean into him more as he deepens the sloppy kiss, him entangling his fingers in my hair while letting out a shaky breath through his nose. i feel myself get lost in the kiss, unaware of how much time had passed until he finally pulls away for air, a slight string of drool attached to our lips that fell when he moved his head down to my neck. he kisses down the skin, goosebumps being left in wake of his lips. i whine gently at the feeling, him softly groaning in response.

the sound made me feel lightheaded with need, and the feeling intensified when he slowly ran his tongue up my neck. i squirm, my breathing becoming more ragged when he hit the sweet spot. he sees this and leans in, pressing me against the door as he sucks on it gently, then grazing his teeth against it, the ticklish sensation intoxicating. i lean my head against the door, feeling completely out of control as he leads kisses across my neck, continuing to lick, suck and bite. he trails his large fingers up the bare skin of my thigh, the touch sending an electric shock through my body.

“can i?” he asks breathlessly, his fingers slightly grasped onto the edge of my skirt.

“y-yes. please.” i reply quickly and he moves his hand under my skirt, his fingers ghosting over where i needed him most, stroking me through the slowly dampening material of my panties. i let out shaky breaths as he teases me, continuing to kiss my neck. he finally moves his hand up to my hip, dragging down my panties past my thighs until they fell down my legs, pooling on the floor. he moves his fingers across my core spreading my wetness and i softly whine. he smiles against my neck at this, slowly entering his long fingers into me, a shaky moan falling out of my lips. he stills his fingers for a moment, moving his head back to mine, smiling as we momentarily make eye contact. he leans in to slowly make out with me again, beginning to thrust his fingers in as deep as possible. i moan into his mouth as i try to focus on matching the pace of his lips, finding it increasingly hard as his fingers moving in and out of me seemed to keep hitting all the right spots. the room was quiet besides for the sounds of our heavy breathing, my occasional moans, the sound of our lips moving together and the sound of his fingers moving in and out of my soaking arousal.

he finally withdraws his fingers, holding eye contact as he enters his fingers into his mouth, closing his eyes as he cleans them off with his tongue. “fuck.” i whisper in a slight daze as i watch him, his eyes squinting as he smiled in return.

“c’mere.” he says affectionately, grabbing my hand to lead me to the large bed, him falling back against the pillows and gently moving my body on top of his. i almost moan just from feeling how hard he was against my thigh. he entangles his fingers in my hair, leading my face down to meet his lips and we continue making out. i softly grind against his clothed thigh, needing relief for the burning need in my core. he softly chuckles into the kiss at this, then pulling away.

“do you wanna uh..” he starts, slightly sheepish. “you can sit on my face?…” he suggests and i almost whine just at his words.

“a-are you sure?”

“fuck yeah.” he says lustfully, gripping the revealed skin of my thigh from my skirt riding up. “come here.” he says, motioning me over with his two fingers as he lays himself flatter on the bed. i crawl further up, finally hovering above his face, my cheeks flushing from how vulnerable the position made me feel.

he smirks up at me before pulling me down by my thighs, his tongue immediately making contact with my core. i let out a gasp as he starts to thrust his strong tongue in, his nose rubbing deliciously against my clit. “josh..” i whine and he groans against me, the vibration going right to my center.

he laps up my wetness, moving up to suck on my clit. i moan and lean forward, tangling my fingers in his pink hair. i slightly tug at it as i feel myself getting closer to the edge, him moaning at the feeling. my hips seem to move on their own, slowly grinding against his face, chasing even more of the pleasure he was giving me. he took it well, letting me use him to get off as i pleased, sticking his long tongue deep inside me as i rode it.

the sight of his focused expression, his strong tattooed arm holding onto my thigh, his noises, the way he was devouring me like a starved man… it was all too much. “josh i-im gonna cum.” i whine breathlessly and he hums encouragingly, intensifying the movements of his tongue. when he moved his lips to suck on my clit again that’s when i lost it. “fuck!” i nearly shout, cumming so hard my vision blurred momentarily.

i grip the bedsheets roughly as josh kept up his movements, licking me clean. he pulls away and i climb back down, pausing to catch my breath. i hold onto his hips and he looks at me with a dazed smile, brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, then wipes the wetness off his face with his arm.

“wow that was..” i pant hard, looking up at the ceiling as i try to compose myself.

he giggles and leans forward to catch my lips, the taste of myself lingering on them.

“i’m glad you liked it, god that was hot you taste amazing.” he says, running a hand through his tousled hair.

i look down at him, his hair messy, his cheeks slightly flushed and droplets of sweat starting to bead on his forehead.

“god you’re so sexy it’s unreal.” i muse and he smiles bashfully.

“says you, you’re literally an angel.” he says, running a hand down my face. his eyes then drift down to my tank. he slowly moves his hands to it, moving them to grab onto the edges. “can i?” he asks and i nod. he pulls the mesh over my head, leaving me in my bralette. “god this has been driving me crazy all night.” he says, running his thumb over the lace material. i let out a sharp breath at the feeling of his finger running over my hardened nipple. “you look so beautiful in it.” he says, leaning down to press kisses across my chest and down my stomach. he gets to my skirt and i hoist my upper body up slightly so he can slide it down. “and this combo of the skirt and thigh highs… shittt.” he says with a soft laugh, kissing down the soft skin of my thighs, me biting my lip at the feeling. he playfully bites at the skin of my upper thigh and i giggle.

he rolls down the socks, then runs his hands across my smooth legs. at last, he leans forward and gently curves his hands around my back and his fingers go to the back of my bralette, fumbling momentarily before fully undoing the clips. he leans back and lets out an uneven breath, taking in my full bare figure. the way he looked at me with such desire and such curiosity made me feel vulnerable, but at the same time it made me feel undeniably sexy.

he moves both his hands up to my breasts, softly kneading and running his hands down them, circling my nipples with his thumbs. i let out a soft whine at the stimulation.

“wow… you look like a goddess.” he says, running his hands down my figure. he leans in to leave kisses down my chest, then takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the bud gently.

“mmm fuck.” i whine at the feeling and he groans softly, moving to the other side and repeating the same motion. “josh fuck me please.” i whine, unable to take the teasing anymore.

he looks up at me, his hazel eyes darkened from how blown out his pupils had become. “you sure?” he asks and i nod vigorously.

“please.”

he bites his lip and peels his shirt off, my eyes widening as i take in the sight of his toned abs. “oh my god…” i say, my mouth slightly gaped as i run my fingers from his chest to his abs and he lets out a breathy laugh. he undoes his jeans, leaving him in his dark boxers, the tent in them being extremely prominent. i reach out my hand to softly stroke him through the material, feeling how hard he was. he groans quietly, then pulls it fully out, the tip reddened and leaking with pre cum. it was long and thick, to the point i was wondering if it would even fully fit.

“shit let me get get a condom.” he remembers, reaching over to the nightstand but i grab his arm.

“i um… i’m on birth control and i’m clean if it’s alright with you we can just…” i start sheepishly and he wastes no time crawling over me.

“hell yeah. i am too.” he says, petting my hair while looking down at me. “you ready?” he asks gently and i nod in confirmation.

he looks down in focus as he lines himself up with my entrance and slowly slides in, my eyes rolling back at the feeling of being so overwhelmingly filled up. the two of us let out shaky moans when he fully bottoms out. he holds onto my shoulders, his head drooping as he starts thrusting slow and deep.

“fuck you feel so good… so warm and.. tight.” he groans shakily, stroking my jaw. i look up at him, letting out soft moans, barely feeling on this planet from the bliss of his controlled thrusts. i let out a gasp as he hits just the right spot and he catches on, thrusting the same way over and over. i pull him down by his hair roughly and he groans, matching the pace of my lips. the kiss was sloppy, a mix of tongue and teeth as the two of us were being overtaken by pleasure.

“josh…” i whimper and he lets out a broken moan, his thrusts starting to quicken, still hitting deep inside me.

“doing so good for me… making me feel so good.” he coos, stroking my cheek and i almost cum right then and there.

“fuck.” i whine, moving my hips to match the rhythm of his thrusts. i look up at him, his cheeks tinted and beaded with sweat, his hair slick, his eyes darkened, his pink lips swelled and slightly parted as he let out quick heavy breaths.

he leans in to kiss me again and as much as i try to focus on kissing him back, the pleasure was too much. my mouth goes slack as i lean my head back again the pillow and he giggles, continuing to thrust as he leans down. “you feeling good?” he whispers in my ear, the sensation sending tingles of pleasure down my spine.

“y-yes.” i whine, painfully turned on by how he was talking to me.

“yeah?” he whispers, playfully licking the shell of my ear, then biting the lobe before he starts to thrust harder. it was a blissful state, my head thrown back, completely losing myself in the feeling, my senses being completely drowned by him. no other thought other than josh deserved a lick of acknowledgment in that moment, not when his words were so sweet and he was fucking me so good that his name was coming out of my lips like a prayer.

i whine at the loss when he pulls out suddenly, takes hold of my thighs, and brings my legs up to each side of his shoulders. he puts his arms behind my lower back, slightly hoisting me up. he readjusts himself and then enters me again, sliding all the way in. the new angle offered a sense of fullness i hadn’t ever felt before. i moan loudly, latching onto his back with my nails. he holds onto me by my upper back and hip, and starts moving me back and fourth onto his cock, almost like a toy. his head tilted back in bliss, his adam’s apple prominent as he lets out throaty groans.

“oh my god- josh.” i moan, my eyes filling with tears of pleasure, digging my nails into his back, slightly dragging them down as he thrusts quickly. he moans roughly at the sensation. “fuck i’m close.” i say, continuing to latch onto his back as his thrusts kept rocking my body up and down.

“me too.” he pants, peppering kisses across my neck. “let go, i’ve got you.” i squeeze my eyes tightly as i feel my high rapidly approaching.

“s-shit where should i cum?” he asks quickly.

“inside, i wanna feel you fill me up.” i whine and he groans loudly at my words, his fingers pressing tightly into my hip.

“fuck… (y/n).” he moans hotly in my ear as he releases inside me, his hips slightly slowing.

at the sound of him moaning my name and feeling the warmth of his cum inside me i finish too, moaning and tightly squeezing around him as he slowly thrusts through his release.

“yeah that’s it, such a good girl.” he whispers as he rubs my shoulder, my ears ringing from the intensity of it.

he stops his movements and pants heavily as he keeps himself hoisted above me, slowly pulling out. i feel some of his cum slowly starting to seep out. “fuck.” he whispers, biting his lip as he looks down at the sight.

he rolls over to lay beside me as i look up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath in quick short gaps. he does the same, his body slick with sweat as he attempts to slow his breathing.

“wow that was… wow.” i muse, my hand resting on my forehead as i try to come back down to earth.

“yeah… i’ve never experienced anything like that holy shit.” he says, turning over to look at me with a smile. i smile back, mentally preparing myself for him asking me to leave as he slides his boxers back on. this was a really good experience, if it was just a hookup then so be it.

“do you wanna come here?” he asks, slightly shy as he extends his arms out across from me.

i nod, surprised but a smile widening on my face as i get closer to him and nuzzle my face into his warm chest. he wraps his strong arms around my lower back and looks down at me with a look of admiration.

“hey i know this is might be a weird time to ask but…. would you want to go on a proper first date with me tomorrow? you can stay tonight and we can eat in the morning and do something after? we have another day in LA…” he asks nervously.

i giggle softly, slightly thrown off. “yeah. i’d love that.” i say, leaning up to peck his lips softly. he smiles into the kiss, holding onto me as he kisses me back.

[lacedwithmsg]

moisturized | nakakita yuma | fluff, crack

tags: fluff, crack, afab reader, menstruating!reader, tease!yuma, little fucking bitch!yuma if you ask me warning tags: none, except lots of cursing(by reader) length: ~900 words note from author: wrote this sum bitch in one sitting in bed on my phone. yeah you read right, a fucking menace, that's what I am. jk. no but I actually did forget to put on my lip mask and wrote this up instead of going to get it. priorities, people.

You're in bed. Flat on your back like a sad, deflated pancake that's been left out on the table for too long. The bottom half of your body is tucked snugly under your blanket. You head is resting comfortably, or at least as comfortable as you can get in your current state, on a pillow. You're pretty much all ready for bed.

Yuma is on his phone next to you, similarly tucked in under the blanket, back perched on a slightly raised pillow, and ready to go to bed. His sweater pajamas look beyond comfortable, the soft fabric probably feeling like a cloud on his skin. He's focused on whatever's on his phone, not noticing the way you're staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Then it hits you. Dawns on you. You're not done. You can't go to bed. You know why? You haven't put on your sleeping lip mask yet. Now, to anyone else, this may not sound nearly as bad as you're making it sound, but for you, this was end-of-the-world levels of bad. For someone who needs to count the number of steps they take to get to the bathroom every morning to make sure it's the same number every day, this felt like undershooting the A+ by half a percent, felt like a door with a faulty lock creeping open after you were certain you pulled it shut, or, to put it simply, felt really fucking bad and there was no way you could go to bed now that you had attained this knowledge.

But, on the other hand, you feel so fucking comfortable right now— not to mention the raging cramps ravishing at your insides. Yes, you so happen to be on your god forsaken period as well. You really are in between a rock and a hard place.

Wait. But then, you turn to your side again and suddenly, you're crafting up the most intricate, complex, and well thought-out plan known to man.

"Yuma?"

"Mhm?"

"I'm in bed right now."

"Yeah?"

"Next to you."

"Uh huh."

"And I'm really comfy."

"Okay."

"And cozy."

"Good for y-"

"And I really don't wanna move."

"Wait-"

"But I forgot something really important."

He lets out a dramatic sigh, despite already putting his phone down in preparation to get up. "What is it?"

You pause for a moment.

He asks again. "Hmm? Whaddya forget?"

It's time. You bust out the prettiest, soft girl, puppy eyes along with the smallest, cutest pout you could muster and mumble," I forgot to put on my lip mask."

You see the color drain from his face, along with any and all desire he may have had to help you. He grabs his phone from where he placed it down earlier.

"Yumaaaa," you plead. "Pleaseeeeee?"

"No."

"But my lips will be dry."

"Drink water."

"It's not enough, though."

"What makes you say that?"

He caught you there. "Okay it's hard to explain but pleaseeeeee. I'd go get it myself but my cramps hurt too bad right now."

He puts his phone down again and turns to you. "You are in bed."

"Yes."

"And so am I."

"Yes."

"Next to you."

"Mhm hmm," you don't know where he's going with this.

"Also tucked under the same blanket you're under."

"Uh huh."

"But you want me to go grab your lip mask becau-"

"Because my cramps hur-"

"Hurt too bad right now. Is that right?"

"Yes..."

Now it's his turn to pause. You see it, in his eyes. He's thinking about something and you're absolutely certain that 'something' is not him getting up to go fetch your lip mask.

"You don't want dry lips, right?"

You nod slowly.

"So all I have to do is help you get them moisturized, right?"

"Uh huh-"

He leans in and takes your, admittedly not even dry, lips in his.

This motherfucker.

You go wide-eyed for a moment, unable to withstand the degree of audacity flowing out of the man in front of you.

But then admittedly, his lips are so soft. And warm. And sweet. Why the fuck do they taste sweet? It doesn't matter, you don't have enough time to ponder anyway since you're already closing your eyes and drifting into that state of bliss that comes over you every time Yuma decides to slot his lips so snugly against yours.

You curse him out in your head. Then you lean deeper into him. This dichotomy of man was so jarring it could put all fanfiction writers to shame.

Just when you thought you were free from his lips and were returning from kiss-induced blissland, it seems the devil himself has possessed your boyfriend as he fiendishly starts leaving small licks all across your lips. What. The. Fuck. Is what you think in your head but in person all you really manage to get out is a slurred delivery of his name.

"There." He pulls away. "Moisturized."

This motherfucker. You're in love with him. God forbid you're going to let him have that over you right now, though, so all you do is glare at him through your lidded eyes and your lips still pink, plump, and pursed.

He chuckles and grabs his phone.

author's notes: this lil brat, amirite? (I need his lips on mine right this instant.) am working on other pieces right now as well but decided to release this one in the meantime. hope you enjoyed! have a good day!

[guppybibi]

Tattoo artist!Johnny who had already met you a year ago when you made an impulsive decision of getting a tattoo with your current boyfriend's name.

This was nothing new for Johnny having seen this numerous times before, in both men and women, and he knows they'll come crawling back to get them covered up after a nasty breakup. It's been a running game in the shop, all of the workers betting their money on how long it'll take before the customer comes back to cover up the tattoo.

Nothing new, right? Then why was Johnny so surprised when he saw you walk into the shop, the door chimes ringing when you swing the door open to reveal you. Eyes still red and puffy while you sniffled, not doing a very good job on hiding the fact you had been crying. His coworkers shot him a knowing look, recalling the bet from last year.

"Pretty thing, ain't she?" One of Johnny's coworkers commented, looking at the back of your figure as you stepped out of the shop with a huge grin on your face. Probably excited to show the tattoo of your boyfriend's name to him.

"Yeah, too bad she's taken. Lucky man better be treatin' her right." Johnny remarks, noticing the look he was given. "Not for long, I bet. I'm giving them a year max." Johnny blinks once, then again. "Fine, I'm giving them five years." Of course, his coworker was pretty shocked from that. Out of all the people they've bet on, this was probably the longest bet Johnny had ever put.

"Seriously? Don't ya think that's too long?" His coworker asks skeptically, raising a brow at Johnny. "Aye, the gal is lovely. If her boyfriend drops her then that's like committing a war crime." Well, his coworker couldn't really disagree with him on that.

Johnny shoots his coworker a glare that simply said he had more important matters to attend to. Luckily, Johnny was a charmer so cooing a birdie like you into comfort shouldn't be that hard, right?

I mean, it's a break up, not exactly the end of the world here. Plus, you're a gorgeous gal, plenty of fish out there you could probably catch in less than an hour.

"Morning, lass! Welcome back, I see that you've got a little problem, huh?" He points out, seeing you nod subtly. "Alright, I'm assuming it's a cover up for the tattoo you got done a year ago?"

He clearly wasn't surprised when you nodded, having seen this too many times before. He wrote down some stuff, not caring about the paperwork much..before leading you further into the parlor.

The two of you discussed how you wanted the previous tattoo to get covered up, Johnny nudging in to suggest some stylistic choices a few times, which you gladly didn't mind.

Then began the process once you agreed with the design choice, you wanted to get this over with. To remove a past mistake from your life.

Johnny cleansed your skin, disinfecting it with a cold gel. He could see you squirming and struggling not to make a sound. He also does notice another tattoo covered up above your previous tattoo, curiosity swirling around in his mind now.

He tried hushing it, it wasn't any of his business. He's here to do his job, nothing else.

He was quiet for most of the process, aside from some rather awkward small talk about the weather and a few details of what happened between you and your boyfriend. Not that it helped, it really just made Johnny even more curious.

And finally, after who knows how long, the tattoo was covered up now! You seemed to have gotten rid of the nerves from earlier, looking a lot more calmer now.

"Alright, lass. I'm sure y'know how the caring process goes so I'll leave it up to ye." He said, cleaning up all his materials in a snap. He gives in to his curiosity, finding the courage in him to ask you about the other covered up tattoo.

"Uh..before you go lass, mind if I ask ye somethin'? It's about the other tattoo you got 'ere.." You immediately knew which one he was referring to, face reddening in embarrassment as you recalled the immature decision..

"Aah..sure, go ahead." You replied awkwardly, a sheepish smile gracing your face. "Thanks, lass. Mind if ye tell me what was written on there? I- I just noticed that the way it was covered up. The artist did a great job, I'm jealous."

Yeah okay he was just making excuses to get things flowing..never mind that.

"Oo..oh! I don't mind at all, don't worry. That's all in the past..can't really reverse it, you know? It was my ex-boyfriend's name." You answer, shrugging it off. Seems like you were the type of gal to move on from a relationship quick.

"I see, glad you were willing to share that. I wonder if I know who he is." He chuckles, evidently not expecting you to actually tell him who it was. Sure, Johnny was the type to encourage people to loosen up and get comfortable. But..maybe not to this extent.

"His name was Simon, Simon Riley—" And practically everything you said after that was unheard of.

Looks like Johnny needs to pay Simon a visit at the pub tonight.