#nothing to see here just making mixer

[baby-stoner-butch]

straight up smorked it n by it. letsjust say the joint i cant walk and im soakked

my roommate came home about 5 mins ago i had to try and act normal and i feeel like she knows im high :O

i hope to goddddd she didn’t hear the vibrator in my pussy 🥵

[bi-writes]

thinking about mob baking simon a cake for his birthday (without his prior knowledge) mm good soup

mail-order bride

"you think he likes chocolate, baby?" you ask the cats. they sit side-by-side at the breakfast counter, being good girls as they sit on their chairs and watch you mix batter. "he totally likes chocolate. big boys like daddy love chocolate, don't they, girls?"

you grease two circular pans, pouring the chocolate cake batter into them. you set them in the oven before getting to work on your chocolate buttercream. you're using the new mixer simon bought you--it's beautiful, stainless steel, heavy. when you saw in the store a few weeks ago, you gushed at it, telling simon you saw someone make cinnamon rolls, bread, cakes, all in this mixer, but when your eyes skimmed over the price, you said nothing more, just smiled up at simon and let him lead you over to where the cast iron pans were (you wanted a real one).

a few weeks later, you noticed it on the kitchen counter. sparkling silver, right there, with the whisk attachment on it just waiting for you. and in the cupboard, ingredients--bread flour, powdered sugar, cornmeal, corn starch, dutch process, baking chocolate, whole wheat flour--all for you to play with. and when you baked him the most decadent triple chocolate coffee cake he had ever had, he bent you over the same table his empty plate sat and ate your cunt out with your apron still on. when you kissed him afterwards, he still tasted like chocolate.

you turn off the mixer, reaching in with a spoon to lick the buttercream off of it. you hum with delight, setting it aside, and when the oven timer dings, you pull the cakes out to let them cool.

you wrap simon's present as everything settles. special order, a favor you called into johnny. it's in a nice wooden box, and you tie a big red bow on it, and when you go back into the kitchen, you level and stack the two pieces of cake between buttercream and use a spoon to make a fancy decoration over the top of it.

the front door sounds as you're putting the finishing touches on the cake. you can hear him coming closer, and you gasp.

"no, no, no, don't come in the kitchen yet!"

"wot?"

"just--wait a little bit in the living room, okay?"

"for wot?"

"simon--" you groan. "please? for me?"

you don't hear anything after that except for the tv turning on. when you finish putting the last candles on the cake, you light them, picking up the plate and coming into the living room.

simon looks surprised. he was concentrating hard on the tv, watching the game, but his face relaxes when he sees you holding the cake. the cats perk up from where they're laid down beside him, and their ears flit as you start to sing happy birthday.

his whole face twitches. he stiffens, his palms flat on his thighs as he grips them tight. you set down the cake on the coffee table in front of him, candles glowing as you take a seat next to him. he's still staring at the cake as you finish the song.

"happy birthday, dear simon...happy birthday to you."

you smile at him, wrapping a hand around his bicep, squeezing it gently. you kiss his shoulder before motioning to the cake.

"you can blow them out now, simon," you say softly. "make a wish."

he doesn't move. he stares straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the flickering candles. you reach down and take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and hugging his arm. you sit with him quietly, looking at the cake with him, and after a minute or so, you turn back at him.

"simon?" you whisper.

he's crying. you put a hand on the back of his head, scratching his short hair, and you cup his face gently as you wipe his tears. he's silent. the tears come, but he still doesn't move, still won't meet your eyes. you smile, going over to pick up the cake, and you hold it in front of him.

"here...make a wish, simon," you say softly. he picks up his sleeve and wipes his face, leaning over to blow out the candles. you put down the cake, standing up to go get his gift sitting on the kitchen table. when you sit down next to him again, he's still staring at the cake, still trying to pretend his face isn't wet with tears, but he stops wiping them when you place the box in his lap.

he unravels the bow. when he opens the case, he lets out a little chuckle, smoothing his hand over the foam inside.

there are an array of throwing knives laid before him. perfectly crafted, in different shapes and sizes, and when he picks one up and twirls it around between his fingers, the weight of them and the ease at which they move tells him you only picked out the finest quality. they're beautiful, and it's a thoughtful gift, and when he closes the lid on the box, he still can't meet your eyes.

"i'll cut us some cake," you say softly. you busy yourself getting plates and a cake knife from the kitchen, cutting generous slices before handing him one of the plates. he picks up the fork, and when you notice his hand shakes, you take the plate back from him gently and scoop a bite onto the fork for him. you don't say anything, just hold it up to his mouth, and once he takes a bite, you set the plate down and watch as he chews.

when he swallows, you sit again in silence. you reach over and take simon's hands in your own, squeezing them gently before bringing them up to your mouth to kiss softly. when he finally looks at you, all you do is smile.

he hadn't even remembered it was birthday. he never told you when it was, but he supposes you must have been curious enough to look for yourself. he can't remember the last time someone made him cake. he can't remember when he last received a gift, especially one like this. he doesn't know when he last thought himself happy enough to celebrate anything at all, but there is no other way he would've wanted today to go.

joy. you bring uninhibited, unfiltered, all-consuming joy. the way you're smiling at him--he can already see you in the kitchen in that apron, baking this cake, talking to no one but the cats as you carefully decorate it. the way you're looking at him--he knows you dreamed about this all week, scheduling the day so you could have the cake done as soon as he got home.

and chocolate. his favorite. decadent, sweet chocolate--it's still under his tongue, and he wants another bite already, he cannot wait to devour the slice that waits for him on the table.

"happy birthday, simon," you whisper, and when you lean in to hug him, he cradles the back of your head, tangling a hand into your hair as he presses you to his chest. "i love you."

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck--

"love you, too, baby."

"what did you wish for?" you mumble into his shoulder. simon snorts a little, shaking his head.

"if i tell ya, it won't come true."

"oh, yeah," you giggle. "keep your secrets then."

he doesn't want more; the only thing he wishes for is more time. more time with you. as much as he can get. to live long enough that he gets to see your face for as long as possible.

that whatever he sees for the last time will be you and you only.

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe and sweetheart!readers first kiss comes from reader but rafe deepens it. like she’s teaching him how to make frosting and he’s got some on the corner of his mouth and sweetheart!reader is like “uhm rafe… you have- nvm” and just stand on her tiptoes to kiss it off and he goes nuts sitting her on the counter to finally kiss her the way hes wanted to the whole time.

warnings: fluff, heated kissing, rafe hating his job lol

“make sure you leave the mixer in there long enough.” you were currently teaching rafe how to make your infamous buttercream frosting, and even though he was doing good, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his finger inside the bowl every five seconds.

“it’s gonna be gone before we could finish!” you laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “alright, alright.” he backed away, watching as you took over mixing for him. “i really appreciate you, you know..” you had spoken up, meeting his eyes.

“for what?” you stopped what you were doing, leaning against the counter to face him. “for everything. i don’t even have to ask you to do anything for me, you just do it.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, smiling softly. the action drew your attention to his lips, a smudge of frosting smeared on the corner.

you giggled, shaking your head as you pointed at his mouth. “what?” he started wiping his face, your giggles turning into full on laughter as he continued to miss the spot. “where is it?!” just as you were about to reach up, you noticed the frosting on your own fingers.

“just- um, okay..” you tippy toed, bringing your lips to barely brush over his before pulling away. rafe just about died when he saw you lick away the sweet mixture, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “did i overstep?” it was silent for a few moments before you found yourself being manhandled.

his lips were on yours in an instant, both of you melting into each other’s touch. you’d wanted this from him since the day he bought your entire basket of cookies at the country club. you moaned into the kiss as he picked you up, placing you on the counter.

nothing, not even the bowl of frosting next to you two, was sweeter than hearing those pretty sounds leave your lips. rafe wasted no time, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands dug into the skin of your waist. he had never wanted someone this bad.

you weren’t used to being kissed like this, your fingers trailing across his chest as he deepened it, his tongue finding yours. butterflies fluttered in your tummy when you heard rafe groan. “y/n..” he pulled away breathlessly, swallowing thickly at the sight of your already swollen lips.

“don’t stop.” you tugged on his shirt, a smug look forming on his face. as much as he wanted to keep going and flip up that skirt of yours, he pulled away, hard as a rock in his jeans. you noticed immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him in that very moment.

“i don’t want you to think i’m here just to have my way with you.” he cleared his throat, your shoulders falling in defeat when you heard the jingle of his truck keys. “i know that..” you trailed off, stepping closer to him. he took your lips again, this time placing his hand on the small of your back.

your eyes fluttered closed, your dainty palm resting in the curve of his neck. “please don’t leave.” you whispered, his erection pressing against your stomach. rafe pecked you one more time before his phone rang.

“hello? yeah, i-, i’m on the the way already.. yes, i know we have work early. alright. i’ll see you.”

“that was my dad. we have a job in the morning.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “when we take that step, i don’t want to be in a rush to get home or leave you before you wake up.” rafe held your face in his hands, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

you didn’t want that either. nodding at his words, you hugged him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “okay.” you hated every second of watching him walk to his truck. “we’ll pick up where we left off, ‘promise sweetheart.” you smiled, giving him a small wave as he drove away.

[chestersturniolo]

𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

Summary; you and chris have a strong, but complex connection. which neither of you manage to navigate. but what happens when you throw some tension and solo cups into the mix?

Warnings ; alcohol consumption ,quick mention of droogs, use of y/n, slight angst , slight fluff, swearing, third person perspective, random character appearance (for the plotttttt) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An overwhelming wave of nerves crash over you,as you sit waiting for your uber to arrive. in a desperate attempt to calm them, you charge to the kitchen, pulling the first bottle of liquor you laid your eyes on from the cabinet. 

you waste no time, unscrewing the cap and taking a large gulp. you feel the warmth travel down your throat and spread through your chest, as you let out a choked cough. 

you hear your phone ding, with an uber notification “Arrived”

stashing the liquor back into the cabinet, you grab your purse and hastily make your way out of your apartment. 

~~~

As you sit in the darkness of the back of the uber, your eyes are fixed out of the window. in a trance, whilst the hundreds of ways tonight could pan out take over your mind. 

you had been invited to a party, that you knew for a fact chris would be at. this would usually make your stomach turn with excitement. instead , it’s turning with anxiety and anticipation.

you had known chris for years. but it’s only over the last few months that you had been exploring a new form of “relationship” with him. the problem was, any time feelings would get brought up, anytime your connection with him felt at its strongest , in the most intimate, heart felt moments, he would shut down in the blink of an eye. brushing it off, stomping out the fire between the two of you. 

and it hurt. 

you knew chris was terrified of intimacy. not sexual intimacy, he had zero problems in that department. but real, powerful, emotional intimacy. but it still hurt. he made you feel like you were nothing to him, just minutes after baring your souls to one another. 

eventually, you had enough. you grew tired of the mixed messages, the way he would look at you like you were the only girl on the planet, and the next minute like he didn’t care about you one single bit. it was confusing, and emotionally draining. you haven’t spoken to chris in two weeks now. which makes the anticipation of seeing his face again, all the more nerve wracking. 

“we’re here ma’am” 

the uber driver speaks, snapping you out of your trance.

“oh im sorry- thanks so much!” you blurt, quickly stepping out of the car. 

you yank your ridden up skirt back down before making your way up the driveway of the house. the thudding of the loud music floats through the air, the chatter of the groups of people gathered on the front lawn echoing into the night. 

you keep your eyes straight infront of you, to eliminate the possibility of spotting chris if you let them wonder. stepping through the front door, you wade your way through the crowds of people, making a b line for the kitchen. 

a sigh of relief escapes your mouth as your eyes land on the kitchen island, which is full of alcohol. bottles of liquor, mixers, beers , and a huge bowl of blue liquid and ice with god knows what in. nerves still coursing through your veins, you grab a red solo cup and pour , maybe a little too much, liquor in. 

~~~

after two cups worth of alcohol, you finally feel the nerves fully subside, quickly replacing with confidence. you push yourself off of the kitchen counter you’d been leaning on, before pouring yourself a third cup. deciding to finally mingle with the crowd, you make your way into the living room.

the strong smell of weed fills your nose as you push your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. the sticky hot air of the room engulfing you. 

“ayyy y/n!” you hear someone call out. 

you whip your head round to the direction of the voice, landing on one of your old friends. one of your old friends you used to sleep with in fact… 

a smile tugs at your lips as you make your way towards him. you left things on good terms, so it was actually really good to see him again. 

“Alex!” you chirp , as he scoops you into a hug

“hey stranger” he teases, pulling away from the embrace.

“how have you been?” you question,

the loud thumping of the music muffles his reply, squinting your eyes, trying to read his lips with no luck. he watches as you tap your ear with a shake of your head, signalling that you can’t hear him. he gives a soft nod of his head and leans in, to talk into your ear. 

you turn your head to listen, and your gaze immediately falls on the person you’ve been dreading to see. chris. sitting on the couch across the room, his eyes fixed on you and alex. 

you feel your heart start to pound, breath involuntarily hitching at the sight of him.

in this very moment, you mentally thank yourself for the generous amount of liquor you poured into your cup. managing to tear your eyes away from chris, you take a heavy swig from your cup. 

“y/n!?” 

the sound of alex’s voice snapping your attention toward him. the appearance of chris made you completely forget alex was even infront of you. realising that you didn’t hear a word of what he just said in your ear, you decide to play it off, as you pull him away from the speaker slightly. but making sure you were both still in chris’ eyeline. 

“sorry! i still couldn’t hear very well-” you bluff. 

“-so..have you missed me” you smirk, batting your eyelashes whilst placing a hand on alex’s chest. your bodies mere inches apart.

the alcohol pumping through your body works in your favour. instead of getting upset at the sight of chris, or going over to him, all you had was the urge to make him jealous. the toxic game felt so appealing to you. chris knew that you and alex had a history, so you knew it would drive him wild.

~~~

you continue your little game, as you very obviously flirt with alex as much as possible, giggling loudly and brushing his bicep with your hand. 

chris is still watching like a hawk from across the room,his burning gaze very apparent to you. his jaw tightly clenched, his fingertips digging into the armrest of the couch as he watches you throw yourself at another man. 

he keeps his stern eyes locked onto you, his anger and jealously escalating.

you decide to push chris as far as you can, as you reach up and pull alex downwards, attaching your lips to his. you allow the kiss to get more heated as you part your mouth, his hands resting on your waist. 

chris’ immediately rises to his feet when he sees this, charging towards the two of you. the anger becoming too much to contain. he grabs you by your wrist with a firm grip, quickly ripping you away from alex’s grasp. you trip over your feet slightly as he drags you through the crowded room. 

“chris what the fuck!” you shout , trying to pull of of his grip, quickly failing. 

he ignores you, as he pulls you into an empty bathroom. slamming the door behind you both, he turns his body to lock the door as you stand behind him in confusion, trying to catch your breathe. 

“wha-what the fuck are you doing?!” you gasp

chris whips his body around towards you, his face full of rage. 

“what am i doing???what the fuck are you doing y/n?!!” chris yells.

“i’m just having fun for god sakes! what’s your problem!?” you yell back, matching his tone.

although your whole goal was to make chris angry and jealous, you were still slightly taken aback by how well it worked. 

“my problem?! you’re throwing yourself all over fucking alex right infront of me?!” he exclaims, the veins in his neck bulging.

“okay so?! why do you care?!” you question, raising your eyebrows. 

chris takes a step closer 

“i care because your fucking mine!!!”

you pause in disbelief at his words. letting out a loud scoff with the shake of your head. you narrow your eyes at him.

“yours? i’m not yours chris-“ you start

“-i could have been yours. but you ruined it. anytime we made any kind of emotional progression you shut me out! i haven’t heard a peep from you in two weeks, and you think you can drag me in here claiming im yours ? are you fucking serious right now?!” you screech.

a silence fills the room as you wait for chris’ response. you watch his gaze fall to the floor as he lets out a long sigh. 

you stand there waiting for some kind of communication, but nothing. 

you roll your eyes as you push past him, unlocking the door and reaching for the handle.

chris hand slams on the door, holding it firmly shut. 

“move chris” you warn, without looking at him.

“no, y/n just wait okay…please?” he begs, his voice now at a low, respectful volume. 

you turn your body towards chris, his expression now soft and pleading, heavily juxtaposing the furious face he previously wore. you can’t help but feel yourself begin to soften under stare. but you quickly replace the pretty face with the facts.

“no. no more waiting. i gave you a chance chris and you messed it up. i deserve more! i’m done with this conversation and im done with you!” 

your heart aches as the words leave your mouth. you didn’t want to be done. not one bit. but you knew that’s how it had to be. chris couldn’t give you what you wanted. him. all of him. 

you watch as chris’ face falls. he removes his hand from the door, rubbing it over his face. 

“don’t say that…please just stay and we can talk this out okay?” chris says, his voice laced with desperation. 

“why should i?!” you question.

the room once again falls silent. the final lifeline to save your “relationship” slipping away. feeling defeated , you once again turn to the door

“goodbye chr-“ 

“fuck-because i’m in love with you!!!!”

you freeze at chris’ confession. completely and utterly caught off guard. you slowly turn around to meet his eyes.

“w-what?” 

chris takes a deep breathe

“i said…because im in love with you-“ he starts , his voice full of meaning.

“-completely, and utterly in love with you” 

you stand infront of him, a statue of disbelief, with your mouth agape as you listen.

“and it scares the fuck out of me y/n. i’ve never felt like this about anyone before. that’s why i acted the way i did. i felt myself falling and i was trying to stop myself, i was stupid i know -”

chris inches closer to you as he talks,he reaches out to delicately cup your face with his hands.

 “-i didnt reach out these past two weeks because i knew the affect you have on me, i knew i wouldn’t be able to stop myself falling for much longer. little did i know i already fell…seeing you here tonight with alex just made everything crystal clear to me. you drive me fucking crazy!  i need you y/n, i want yo-“ 

you cut chris’ rant off by crashing your lips into his. his hands fall from your cheeks and find a home on your waist, pulling you closer. the kiss was full of passion, it felt different to the hundreds of kisses the two of you had shared before. chris finally admitting his feelings reignited the fire between the two of you. 

you pull yourself away from his lips, keeping your face just inches away from his, the tips of your noses brushing together as both of you catch your breathe. 

“you really mean that?” you whisper

you watch a small smile form on chris’ face as he nods softly 

“every word”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n; first time writing in third personnn and i didn’t hate it as much as i thought i would🤌🏼

thankyou for readiinnngg hope you enjoyed🤍

taglist ; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

(let me know if you’d like to be on my tag list and i’ll add you ✨)

PS- requests open

[acotarxreader]

Swept Away

Cassian x Reader, Rhysand's sister

Synopsis: Cassian is growing desperate to make his feelings about you known but Rhysand is ever protective of his little sister.

Warnings: Silly, Angst, pining, blood, a creep in a bar, poor Azriel wing-manning like nobody's business, protective Cassian, overprotective Rhysand

A/N: A Cassian fic because it has been some time since he's been featured on the blog. I hope you guys enjoy this silly lil guy. Please forgive any mistakes in this, I wrote it while not feeling the best.

-------------------------------------------------

Cassian stood at the edge of one of the Windhaven training rings, his two brothers sparring across the mud. To the untrained eye, they looked as though they were gonna kill one another but Cassian knew this was all just goofing around. He felt his heart vibrate off his ribcage, waiting for Rhysand to tire himself out enough that he wouldn’t chase and mangle him for the question he was going to ask. He counted through his breaths, forcing himself to focus on releasing the stress from his chest. They finally stopped their clashing, neither conceding but both ready for dinner, calling a truce as they bellowed out brotherly laughter. 

“Hey Cass, ready for the mixer tonight?” Rhysand wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm, gratefully taking the cup of water offered by Azriel. 

“Oh yeah yeah, very excited, have a good session?” he spoke quickly, eager to get the words out of him before he lost his nerve.

“Definitely, I feel on cloud 9 now”

“Good, good, soooo just letting you know-I’m-going-to-ask-YN-out-tonight-after-the-mixer-okay-bye!” Cassian vibrated out before spinning on his heel and moving to bolt away. 

“Oh fuck” Azriel whispered as Rhysand caught hold of Cassian's shoulder, turning him back to face him. In hindsight, maybe saying this to Rhysand when he was pumped full of testosterone wasn’t the correct call Cassain thought. 

“Sorry Cass, I think I hallucinated, what did you say?” “I’m going to ask YN out”

“No, you’re not” A laugh left Rhysand as he released his shoulder and loosened the belt of blades slung around him. 

“Why not?” Azriel inhaled a breath that sounded like “here we go” at Cassian's question. 

“She’s my sister, so she’s like your sister, it's like illegal or something” Cassian scoffed a laugh at Rhysand’s half-answer.

“Except the four of us aren’t actually siblings and the sentiment is nice and all but I’m not her brother, I want to ask her out, nothing creepy about it” Rhysand’s turn to laugh at Cassian, shoving him back lightly at the words and leaning down to loosen his training boots.

“Nah Cass, forget it, move on, I forbid it”

“You what?” he bit out in return, Azriel’s eyes darting between the two, this was going to turn into another savage argument, he could see it. 

“Right, let's leave it there-” Azriel tried but was almost immediately cut off by Rhysand.

“-Yeah, I forbid it. I don’t want things to get messy”

“They won’t, I think we would be- “-Forget it Cass, enough drama was caused with Mor-” Azriel took a sharp inhale at Rhysand’s low blow, the two males began to square up to one another just as you called from the sidelines. 

“Hey! Come on, start getting ready, have a bath before the smell poisons the flowers” you beamed, raising an eyebrow at Azriel at the weird energy. He just shook his head at you not to get involved. Your gaze separated the two males, both storming away to their quarters. 

“Fuckers always leave me to tidy up” Azriel signed, picking up the kit the three had used in training. 

—---------------------------------------------

The howling Winter wind ripped through the hills of the Illyrian mountains, coursing through Windhaven. You looked out through the living room window of the place you called home in this unforgiving climate.

“YN? Are you okay?” Your brother whispered from the front door as he shook off the biting snow. 

“I’m fine Rhys, how was the mixer?” 

“Unsurprisingly violent-” He laughed, a small smile growing on your face at the sound “-Are you sure you’re okay? You look as though you are going to run away” Rhysand laughed again to cover his rising worry.

“Nothing to concern yourself with Rhys, I’m going to just go read in my room” You tried your best to beam back in your usual way to him, rising from the window seat and wandering to your room down the hall. Rhysand questioned whether or not he should follow you, deciding to return to bed and inquire further in the morning.

You stared up at the ceiling, the clock yearning to strike midnight as you sighed. You quietly strapped on your shoes and sheathed yourself in your thickest jacket. You ever so gently lifted the sash window of your ground-level room and slipped out into the night, knowing your brother and mother would go feral with the knowledge of you going into the Illyrian camp unattended at night, despite your own strength. 

You moved through the shadows of the grey mountain stone buildings, dipping out of the sight of passing party-worn Illyrians until you found yourself wandering down the disused service lane heading in the direction of the closest village. The chill sent shapes of cold down your spine as you fought the feeling of watching wild eyes from the deep thick woods the lane cut through. Your wings clung tight to your back trying to draw any ounce of warmth possible. You stopped and stretched before launching into your routine jogging trailing along the outskirts of the busy village, a relaxed breath releasing the stress.

Swirled in your own deep thoughts, the sudden weight thrown into your side caught you entirely off guard as you instinctively screamed. A hand wrapped tightly around your jaw preventing further alarm from being raised in your desperate shouts.

The wooded path grew thicker and thicker the further you were hauled into the woods, worst-case scenarios dancing across your mind. The movement suddenly stopped as you felt the solid thud of the body of a tree meeting your back, you forced your eyes open to meet your perpetrator. 

“Boo”

“GODS! YOU FUCKING JERK CASSIAN!” You pushed Cassian backwards and almost off his feet while lashing him with your hands into his shoulder blades while he hunched over howling laughing. 

“Your face!” he managed between laughs, half choking.

“Don’t do that to me! I thought it was one of the trainee warriors trying to earn his stripes!”

“Don't even joke about that YN, I’d kill them where they stood” his suddenly serious tone cut through you before you smiled at him. Cassian seemingly remembered the fright he gave you, returning to his laughter as you both strolled back towards the path. 

“I’ll walk you back YN, protect you from-”

“-From psychopaths who might sweep me away into the woods?!” you cut across him, now both laughing into the freezing night. 

“Why are you out so late anyway? Your mother and Rhys would be very unhappy with you”

“I could say the same to you” You raised an eyebrow to the warrior.

“I had business, I care not to go further into it with a Lady” he faux bowed towards you, gaining an eye-roll from you.

“Seriously YNN, what’s with the twilight running?”

“Nothing really”

“Tell me or I’ll start singing” You gave a sceptical look towards your dear friend before he took a deep inhale and belted half a note of pure torture, your hand covering his mouth at the release of the crow song. 

“Okay okay!” You laughed, pulling back your hand “-I was actually… I was actually thinking of going home to Velaris” You admitted, ending the momentary comfortable silence that bounced off the ancient trees. Cassian pursed his lips in thought, trying his best to not show all his cards, a futile attempt. 

“This is why we can’t be together YNN, so hung up on the glitz and glamour of city life, can't appreciate the wild” 

“I’m pretty sure the reason we can't be together is that I don’t like you” Cassain put his hand to his chest feigning hurt, you scoffed at your long-time friend before continuing along the path.

“No more nightly running alone YN, seriously dangerous especially for precious cargo like a High Lord's daughter, someone might take you as their chance to prove themselves and then I’ll have to commit murder and I don’t like my leathers to get messy” he ran a hand through his hair as you fought the urge to shove him again. 

“Aw you think I’m precious” you sarcastically shot back

“The most precious thing we have in this dump” his sincere tone ringing through you.

“We'll leave here someday Cass, get on with our real lives”

“We?”

���Well yeah I'm going to need someone to carry my bags” you smirk and he nudges you across the snowy path.

“Can't leave my partner in crime behind me now can I?” His genuine smile of gratitude made you feel warm. He always did. No one could quite understand him like you. The subtle glow of the training camp in the far distance came into view and you sighed at the sight. 

“Come on Cass, come get a drink in the village, I don’t want to head back just yet” he nodded to your great idea as you looped your arm through his for warmth and sauntered back towards the village. 

—----------------------

The village bar was heaving with Fae, all deeply relying on the crutch of alcohol to soothe their woes. You attempted to play snooker with Cassian, well beyond the scope of your ability. After playing and losing a few rounds with him, you sat at the bar away from his ridicule, allowing him to play more challenging opponents.

You sat cross-legged on the bar stool absent-mindedly tracing circles along the rim of your glass of caramel colour liquor. A rough hand found its way to your thigh, snapping your attention to the wall-like Fae it belonged to. 

“He-y it's the Night’s se-xy daughteeer, hey baaaby” The slur of words matched the smothering stench of centuries of whiskey leaving his wrinkled mouth. 

“Um Hi” You pushed his hand down roughly before it returned just as quickly and much higher, now squeezing your thigh making you tense. The much older Fae came closer to your face, leaning and whispering drunken inappropriate schemes in your ear. You scoffed in utter disgust, shoving him completely back from you. 

“Hey Prin-cess, you don’t fucking do that! Come here!” He almost spat at you, roughly catching you by the waist and pulling you off the stool. His fingers buried into your skin and you found it difficult to slip out of his vice-grip-like hands.

A hand laid flat on his shoulder from behind as he grunted to being interrupted. He turned to meet Cassian fist straight into his glass jaw sending him cold to the floor. You found yourself gasping, no one else reacting in the busy bar used to Illyrian antics. 

“Cassian!”

“Come on, we’re going” he caught your wrist and pulled you from the bar, stepping over the creep's body as you were pulled along. You hurriedly slipped on your jacket, the freezing breeze of the night burning your skin as you were pulled into the baltic night.

“Cass, slow down, you're going to take my arm out of the socket” you groaned at the slight pain he was causing you as you found it difficult to keep up with his rapid pace back down the service lane. 

“Such a fucking asshole”

“I was handling it Cass!”

“Oh yeah YN, really looked like that” you huffed at his sarcasm, anger growing in both of you the further you got from the bar. 

“Get off my case fucking hell”

“He could have run off with you”

“So?! What does it even matter to you?! Seriously Cass, slow down, you're not racing a Naga!”

“It does matter to me! I don’t want some ancient creep all over you” Cassian continued his marching in front of you, your wrist firmly caught. 

“You're the same when any male talks to me! You’re worse than Rhys!” You were sick of it, sick of being treated like some wounded bird they needed to protect, the thought caused the anger to grow in Cassian.

“THAT'S BECAUSE I DON'T WANT ANY MALE TALKING TO YOU LIKE THAT!”

“WHY!? WHY THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER YOU!” Cassian suddenly dug his heels into the snow causing you to crash into the back of him giving you a bit of a fright. Cassian span around, releasing your wrist in exchange for your hips, your hands instinctively draping across his shoulders as he pulls you forward in the falling snow to meet your lips hungrily. The cold was leached from your bodies as you basked in the glow of one another. 

“Cass you just kissed me”

“I just kissed you” You both had shock painting your faces before locking eyes and reconnecting hungrily again. 

“If anyone touches you like that again I’ll kill them” You nodded quickly to his protective stern words, kissing him deeply again. 

“Ahem” Azriel’s voice separated you both as he stood with hands on his hips glaring at the two of you, clearly having just been out for his own run along the service lane. 

“Az-” He only raised a gloved hand to you. 

“I don’t want to know any of the goings on between you two, ever, it will make me an accessory to a murder when Rhysand finds out” You both nodded slowly in reply before Azriel dragged a hand down his face. 

“Now, the three of us are going to walk home and the three of us will never speak about this again” Azriel continued, gesturing with his arm for you to walk ahead. You looked from Cassian to the Shadowsinger who only raised an eyebrow, you sighed before following his direction and walking ahead of the two. 

“You’re a dead man Cass” Azriel whispered once you were out of earshot.

“I know” “What is with you and their family, next thing you’ll be sleeping with Rhysand’s mother” “How do you know that didn’t already happen” Cassian was fighting for his life to bring back an air of silliness to the night and Azriel happily obliged, shoving his smirking brother across the path. 

“This is different Az” he rejoined his side quickly. 

“I know, it’s always been different between you two, doesn’t mean your funeral will be any less of a sure thing” The Shadowsinger smirked.

��-----------------------

The next couple of weeks became like a full-time job for Azriel and he wasn’t sure exactly when he had interviewed for the job. He spent a large amount of his free time running interference for you and Cassian, distracting Rhysand to allow you both to steal away moments together. It was beginning to exhaust him not to mention sicken him that he spent so much time focusing on Cassian’s love life that he forgot his own. 

The four of you sat around the corner table of the very tavern that three months previously you had been pursued. Azriel sat next to Rhysand as if by chance but very much planned so that you and Cassian may sit next to each other. 

“So anyways we’ve been sleeping together for some time now but I think it’s time to cut her loose-” Rhysand beamed at the telling of his conquests while you fought the urge to roll your eyes at your brother's hypocrisy “-What about you Cass? Any lovely ladies on the go?” Rhysand innocently questioned before taking a deep drink.

“Ehh yeah I suppose you could say that” Your chin sank to your chest, attempting to bury the wide grin on your face. 

“Well go on, tell us about her” Rhysand pried, Azriel’s eyes trying to find anywhere else to look at other than the red on Cassian’s cheeks” “I don’t think-” “-Oh come on Cass, since when have you been coy about your conquests?”

“Cauldron boil me” Azriel whispered under his breath, your foot sharply meeting his shin.

“I just think I should keep that private” Cassian spoke over Azriels audible pain. “From me? I heard you tell Azriel that you never wanted to leave the bed with this mystery female, so how come I’m not privy to the information?” You took a deep swig at your brother's playful prying, wishing the ground to swallow you up.

“I just don’t think you’d want to hear about-” “-I clearly do, tell me, tell me about this so-called best sex you’ve ever had, how you make her c-” “-For all that is good and Gods given Rhysand please do not finish that sentence!” Azriel cut across quickly as you inhaled your drink, choking slightly. Cassian rapidly tapped your back as Azriel and Rhysand began to bicker. 

“Are you okay?” Cassian whispered to you, searching your greying face for colour as it flushed back to your cheeks. He took your hand softly under the table, his thumb sending soothing circles across your skin. You looked up to Cassian with your glassy eyes, a small smile growing on your face at the look of adoration you received. The two of you looked quickly then to the silence that leaked from the other side of the table. Rhysand looked between the two of you, his own face now looking like he had been the one starved of air. Azriel covered his eyes with a hand, trying to think of any way to come back from this and what was about to happen. The table fell to an almost unnerving silence as Rhysand processed in real time before an equally unnerving laugh left him. 

“Oh no no no no” he shook his head while laughing, you glancing worriedly to Cassian at your brother's seemingly newfound deliria. 

“Rhysand…” You tried but your brother just kept shaking his head while laughing. 

“Oh no no no no” His laugh only got louder, Azriel daring to look at the Son of Night from behind his hand. 

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start” Azriel whispered across the table to Cassian who looked bewildered at the reaction. Rhysand rolled up his sleeves, his laughing continuing as he took a deep drink from his tall glass. 

“Maybe 10 seconds” Azriel added, Cassian needing no further invitation to bolt away. He made it as far as the edge of the village before Rhysand came in hot from behind him, you and Azriel trailing desperately. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Rhysand bellowed, tackling Cassian to the ground as they rolled in the slush of the last snow of Winter. 

“Rhys stop!” You went to separate them, Azriel pulling you back to his side. 

“Just, just leave them go YNN” he sighed, knowing this was years in the making. The two warriors rolled, Rhysand attempting to deliver blows that Cassian blocked. 

“Rhys-I’m-sorry!” Cassian managed through dodges. 

“My sister!” 

“Yes! Your sister! But my love! I love her!” Cassian rasped out, Rhysand’s hand finding his brother's throat as he gained the upper hand from above him. Rhysand released an ounce of pressure he had on the Illyrian before shooting a glance at you, a clear look of horror on your face. Rhysand allowed all the air from his lungs go before standing again, Cassian attempted to stand, only to meet the floor again with a shove from the future High Lord. He stayed down, thinking that was the best port of call.

“YN, really?” “Really” You found your own confidence, striding over the Cassian to meet his side on your knees. 

“How long?” 

“Three…almost four months” You admitted to your brother, pulling bits of moss from Cassian’s hair. 

“Four months?! And no one had any idea?” Azriel averted his eyes at Rhysand’s questioning. 

“We just wanted to see if it was serious before stressing you out Rhys” Cassain ran a sleeve over his bloodied lip. 

“And this is-this is serious? You’re not just fucking around Cassian because I swear to the Gods I will-” “-This isn’t fucking around Rhys, I love her” Cassian interrupted Rhysand’s worry. He wandered in a small circle, arms behind his back as he tilted his chin to the stars once again, taking a deep breath of the changing seasonal air. 

“Okay” Rhysand finally rocked his head back down to look at the two of you. 

“Just to say Rhys, I don’t care if you are okay or not with this, I love Cassian too and I don’t care if you are okay with it-” “-YN” Cassian dragged out your name like a whining child who was trying to stop the class pet from reminding the teacher about a test. 

“But, thank you” You kissed the top of Cassian’s head, his lip stitching together from the blowout.

“Oh Gods don’t do that in front of me!” Rhysand looked to the sky, the two of you laughing up at him. 

“Oh please Rhys, that’s nothing, these two would make you sick” Azriel laughed before the smile completely fell from his face. 

“You knew?” Rhysand glared towards the Shadowsinger.

“I ehh-” “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start my friend” Cassian laughed up from the slush-turned mud. Azriel gave a panicked laugh before meeting Rhysand’s serious eyes. 

“He’s the one doing your sister!” “Az! Traitor” You chuckled, Rhysand still not removing his eyes from Azriel until he shot off into the woods, Rhysand hot on his heels. You helped Cassian to stand again before walking hand in hand in the direction of home, happy to have that weight off your chests and happier to hold one another's weight in your arms. 

--------------------------------------------

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

— cozytober masterlist !

summary: you convince luke to bake with you despite his ineptitude in the kitchen.

warnings: sweet fluff! mentions of food + baking, also a joke about a diet

word count: 0.96k

notes: fic number two in cozytober! love my sweet boy luke, so i hope you guys enjoy this as well

The kitchen was filled with the warm scent of spices, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves all blending together as you gathered the ingredients for your latest baking project: chai pumpkin spice cupcakes. The golden afternoon light streamed through the window, casting a cozy glow over the countertops. Luke stood beside you, his brow furrowed as he eyed the stand mixer with a wary expression.

“Alright, babe, this is gonna be easy,” you said, splitting the ingredients into the wet and dry. “You’ll be handling the wet stuff—eggs, milk, oil. I’ll take care of the dry ingredients.”

Luke let out a small laugh, running a hand through his hair in that endearing, slightly self-conscious way you loved. “I still don’t know why you trust me near anything that requires precise measurements.”

You laughed. “Because everyone can learn, and besides, you’ve got me here to make sure nothing catches on fire.”

You handed him the recipe card, nudging him towards the eggs. Luke cracked an egg into a bowl, watching it slide down with a satisfying plop. But as he went for the second, you saw his eyes widen in panic. “Uh, I think I got some shell in there.”

Sure enough, tiny shards floated in the mixture. Luke fumbled to fish them out, his fingers hovering over the bowl with intense concentration. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him so focused.

“You’ve got this,” you encouraged, watching as he managed to extract the last piece. He breathed out in relief, grinning at his victory.

“Crisis averted,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Good job, babe,” you said, giving him a playful nudge. “Now just measure the milk and oil, and we’re good to go.”

Luke nodded, his expression serious as he measured with the precision of someone about to perform surgery. Meanwhile, you whisked together the dry ingredients — flour, sugar, baking powder, and spices. The excitement bubbled inside you as you worked; there was something magical about baking in the fall, and sharing it with Luke, even with his shaky kitchen skills, made it even better.

Once Luke had his wet ingredients ready, he looked over at you, a proud gleam in his eye. “What’s next?”

“Just pour the wet stuff into the stand mixer and then add the dry ingredients,” you said, moving to line the cupcake tins. “Oh, and make sure to turn the mixer off before—”

Before you could finish, Luke, with a little too much enthusiasm, dumped the dry ingredients into the running mixer. A cloud of flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg exploded into the air, enveloping everything like a powdery storm. You gasped as the flour coated the countertops, the floor — and, of course, Luke.

Luke scrambled to shut off the mixer, the cloud of flour settling around him. Luke slowly turned to you, his face a comical mix of shock and regret. “Fuck…”

For a split second, you stood there in stunned silence, and then a laugh bubbled up, uncontrollable. Luke’s startled face, combined with the mess, was just too much. He started to laugh too, shaking his head as he wiped flour off his nose.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. I-I’m hopeless,” he groaned, though his grin betrayed him. “You should just take over before I somehow set off the smoke alarm.”

“No way,” you said, still giggling as you grabbed a spatula. “We’ll scoop up what we can, and it’ll be fine. Besides, you’re not getting out of this that easily.” Luke sighed dramatically, but the playful spark in his eyes told you he wasn’t really defeated. Together, you salvaged what you could from the countertop, adding the flour back to the mixer with no further disasters.

“See? Easy fix,” you said, brushing off your hands.

“Easy for you,” he mumbled, though there was something soft in his expression—an unspoken warmth that made your heart skip. Moments like this, the small messes and shared laughs, were what you loved most.

You handed Luke the cupcake tin, insisting that he scoop the batter into the liners. “This part is foolproof,” you said, “Just fill each one halfway.”

Luke took the task with the utmost seriousness, carefully spooning batter into each tin. To his credit, not a drop was wasted, and soon the cupcakes were in the oven, the kitchen returning to a peaceful calm as the scent of spiced cake filled the air. When the timer dinged, you both glanced into the over, and Luke grinned as the perfect golden cupcakes came into view.

"Not bad, huh?" you said, proud of the teamwork.

Luke nodded, partially surprised that something he had made turned out so good. “They look amazing.”

With the cupcakes cooling, you worked on the icing — cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, and more spices, blending together in a sweet, velvety mixture. Together, you spread the spiced cream cheese frosting over each cupcake, the final touch to your masterpiece. Once the cupcakes were frosted, you both sat down to taste your handiwork.

You took a bite, closing your eyes as the flavors hit. “Oh wow,” you mumbled, “These are so good.”

Luke took a bite, and for a moment, you saw his eyes light up, the deliciousness taking him by surprise. But then he frowned, feigning seriousness. “Oh man, these are so sweet…I think just destroyed my diet with one bite.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Please, like one cupcake is going to ruin you.”

He grinned, licking some frosting off his thumb. “Yeah, but I blame you if I can't skate as fast tomorrow.”

You reached over, brushing a bit of flour from his cheek. “Well, if cupcakes are your downfall, I’ll gladly take the blame.”

Luke laughed, his hand finding yours by your side. “As long as you're there to bake more.”

[intoanotherworld23]

Take My Heart

Summary: Working as a waitress in one of the most popular night clubs in the city seemed like a breeze. Then you’re asked to work the infamous dark rooms where you meet the owners, and you catch the eye of one of them, Joel Miller, whose one of the most feared men and rules the city

Pairings: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: cursing, mention of sex, mention of sex toys, drinking, and mention of drugs

A/N: If anyone wishes to create a banner for me for this series I would greatly appreciate it, and of course you will be given full credit for it! Message me if you are able to do so! Thank you so much everyone and enjoy! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Your late." The bartender Eric nagged as soon as you walked over to the register to clock in for the night. "Again."

"Yeah yeah I know." Waving him off as he laughed at you.

"How do you manage to be late all the time when you live just down the block?" Raising an eyebrow at you.

"You think this makes a lot of tips looking like one of the undead?" Motioning your pointer finger around your face.

"I don't think the guys are really looking at your face babe."

"Well this helps too." Pushing your boobs up for emphasis.

"How you are still single is baffling to me." His words holding more meaning than what you realized.

Dressing provocatively was a part of the job. Hiring pretty girls showing off their bodies to a bunch of drunk and horny men was how the club stayed so successful. Granted a lot of clubs were like that, but there was something about this club that was different. Something this club offered to their guests that kept them flocking in.

It was called the dark rooms. Watching as different girls were pulled into one of the rooms men leaving with satisfied looks on their faces. All you were told was that their VIP's hung out there, but you had a very good idea as to what happened behind those black curtains.

Throwing your purse behind the bar where you usually kept it knowing it would be well looked after. Not that you had much money or anything for anyone to steal. None the less it still was money to you.

The club was incredibly packed tonight, and you knew the tips were going to be amazing. It wasn't just exactly an ideal job, but being a bottle service girl was about as good as you were going to get. You didn't have any family or friends so you didn't have anyone to turn to.

"You don't think she'll be pissed do you?" Now actually starting to worry this time she wouldn't be nice.

"Nah I think you'll be fine."

"God I hope so my rent is due this week so I need the money."

Even though you didn't have the best apartment it was better than nothing, and unfortunately it was also an expensive one. It was better than nothing at this point.

"You're lucky she likes you."

"Ya know when you're perfect." Sending a cocky wink over to him as he shook the mixer over his shoulder.

"Oh yeah what would we do without you." He sarcastically spoke.

"Oh shut the fuck up Eric you wish you were like me." Flipping your hair back over your shoulder with a grin.

"Get to work before you actually get in trouble this time." Throwing a dirty rag at you causing you to burst into laughter.

Walking by the crowded tables as you headed into your bosses office to let her know you were finally here. Hoping that this time she wouldn't be actually mad at you since you really needed the money.

"Beth." Knocking lightly on the cracked door to see her sitting there typing away on the computer. "Hiya."

"Don't even try it." Looking up from the computer with a straight face.

Bowing your head as you awkwardly stood there with your hands behind your back. It was like your parent had just caught you doing something you shouldn't have, and you didn't know what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry."

"Of all nights you had to be late again." Standing up from her chair walking over to you.

"I'm sorry I took longer than what I thought." Apologizing again more sincere this time.

"You know how important tonight is for me."

"What's happening tonight?" Scrunching your brows.

"The owners are coming here." Answering bewildered that you didn't know. "So everything has to be perfect."

That explains her behavior the past couple of weeks, and why she had been frantically running around the club stressing over small things that she never did before.

"The owners?"

"Yes the owners. The ones who own this fucking club." Running a hand through her hair frantically. "The Miller Brothers. Tommy and Joel Miller."

"Never heard of em."

"They're powerful men in this city. Nobody fucks with them." It sounded more like a warning to you.

"They don't sound that scary to me." Crossing your arms across your chest.

"God you're so lucky you're pretty." She scoffed as she walked back over to her desk.

As she sat back down you took that as he way of dismissing you. Turning back to the door about to head out when her words stopped you in your tracks.

"Oh you'll be working the dark rooms tonight. One of the girls called in sick so I need you to cover for her."

"What?" Eyes wide open now. "But I've never worked the dark rooms before. I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She reassured you as you took a sigh of relief. "Just know that men pay very good money to have a pretty thing to wrap their arm around."

You knew exactly what kinds of sinful acts took place in the dark rooms, and the thought of some sleazy businessman paying you for sexual favors made your skin crawl. That wasn't the kind of thing you did or would put yourself through.

"What if they force me?"

"That's why we have security and cameras to make sure the girls stay safe."

"Why can't you ask one of the other girls?" Asking her in hopes she might ask someone else.

"Because they aren't as attractive as you."

"What if I don't want to work the dark rooms?"

"Then you better start looking for another job." Her tone serious and her eyes scowling at you that she wasn't playing around.

The two of you staring at each other as you contemplated whether this job was worth it or not. You could use some extra cash, but the thought of one of those men touching you against your will made your stomach churn. She did tell you that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but then you'd be missing out on a lot of money.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having an angel on one shoulder, and the devil on the other. This would just be a one time thing though. So maybe it wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.

"Okay I'll do it." She smiled upon hearing that.

"Good. Go find Kara and she'll give you the rundown of everything."

Not saying anything else you simply nodded and took your leave. Your heart was racing and your palm was sweating already feeling nervous about what could happen tonight. Things could go smoothly or they could be a nightmare. Either way you just wanted this night to be over.

Looking around the club for Kara. Trying to spot her wild curly red hair through the sea of people. Finally spotting her talking to a group of men at a table. Flashing her pretty smile and placing a hand on their arms clearly trying to get a bigger tip.

Kara had been here longer than anyone else, and knew how to work her charm on the customers. She had also worked the dark room more than anyone else either. So you knew that she was making good money.

You'd exchanged conversation with her from time to time, but never really got close with her. She was friendly enough, but you knew she wasn't in this job to make friends, but make a shit load of money.

"Hey Kara." Shouting her name as she turned around to see who called her name. "I'm working the dark rooms tonight and Beth said you'd help me."

"Perfect follow me." Showing off her whitened teeth as she headed up the stairs you following right behind her.

"So you're working the dark rooms tonight huh?" She sounded almost amused when she asked.

"Yeah I guess so."

"Do you even know what happens in the dark rooms?" Stopping at the top to face you.

"I have a pretty good idea what happens." Your response making her grin.

She could tell just by looking at you that you were like a scared little bunny. Just the thought of going into one of these rooms petrified you. Let alone a man requesting you to stay in the rooms.

"There are different kind of rooms." Stating as you now stood in the hallway noticing some had curtains for doors. "Some rooms have dance poles. Some rooms just have large couches for relaxing, and some rooms have toys in them."

"Toys?"

"Yeah ya know sex toys and all that." Jesus Christ this place was much darker than what you thought.

"Then there's the VIP room." Standing in front of a deep and dark red double door. "Only the owners can access this room. They have it locked at all times, and they each have a key."

"What kind of men are these guys?" Asking her but not really asking her.

"The kind of men women want to be with and the type that men are scared of."

"Have you ever met them?"

"Yeah I did once." Reminiscing about the time they came in and you could practically see the drool coming out of her mouth. "Joel doesn't ever request any of the girls."

"Why not?"

"It's not really his thing." The two of you heading back down to the stairs. "Besides that man never has had to pay for sex."

"Right."

"So what exactly all do I need to do?" Asking her as you started to walk back down the hall.

"All you gotta do is smile and look pretty." That didn't sound too hard to do. "Bigger tips if you sit on their lap and let them touch you by the way."

Never mind.

You didn't know whether to take her words as a warning or not. The way she said it made it sound like that man always gets what he wants no matter what. The thought of meeting this man had your stomach churning.

Staring at yourself in the mirror trying to compose yourself as time was getting closer. Taking a shot of tequila to calm your nerves just a little bit. For all you know these could be incredible dangerous men, and your about to walk right into the lions den.

Maybe they wouldn't take a second look at you and leave you all alone. That was wishful thinking though considering these men were powerful and some of them were owners. It would be in your best interest to not say no to these men.

"Y/N let's go, there here."

Your stomach was doing somersaults now. Palms were starting to sweat, and your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. There wasn't any chance you'd be able to slip out of there. You were just gonna have to suck it up, and get the night over with.

Maybe it would be a piece of cake, and the night would be over before you know it.

"Here bring them this bottle." Eric handing you a tray that had shot glasses and a bottle of very expensive tequila as you walked past the bar.

"I didn't even know we had this here." Examining the chic looking bottle like you were holding diamonds.

"Nobody else can order that except them." Pouring liquor into a martini glass. "You better get moving they don't like to be kept waiting."

"Which room are they in?"

"First room on your left." Nodding as he gave you an encouraging smile.

Trying your best to not trip or drop the glass as you cautiously walked up the stairs to the rooms. Not knowing exactly how many men were going to be in this room.

As you approached the room you could already hear deep voices talking. Sounding like there were multiple men in there. Noticing there was four shot glasses which suggested to you that there was four men. Which wasn't too bad you've dealt with almost triple the amount of men before.

"There she is." A voice boomed as soon as you stood in the doorway.

"Where's the other girl?" Not knowing who said that as your eyes were focused on the ground.

"She called in today so Beth has me working." Answering quickly your voice quivering.

"Remind me to thank Beth." The same unknown person said making your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

Finally looking up to look at them as the red and blue lights illuminating their bodies as they sat around a table. All of them were wearing very nice suits, and their hair was styled back. They were all very good looking men, but there was one who immediately caught your eye.

He was incredibly handsome in almost a he didn't seem real. Like he was hand crafted by the gods himself, and he wasn't actually a human being. He was too perfect for words. Trying not to drool being in the same room as him.

His honey brown eyes had been staring at you since you walked in the room. Following you as you placed the glasses in front of them, and pouring them each a shot. Trying your best not to shake under his intense gaze.

The other three continued to talk as if they couldn't care less about you being in here. Which oddly made you feel relieved that they weren't trying to harass you or anything like that.

"Cheers to a good night boys." One of them toasted as they downed the first shot.

"Hell of a day." A man with tattoos on his neck continued.

"I can still see the look on their faces as we fooled them." The one that toasted said. "We totally had them by the balls they were so scared."

"Fucking idiots." The attractive one chuckled.

"Did they really just think we were going to just take the money, and not keep the g-." His voice cut off by an elbow being jabbed into his side.

"Shut the fuck up Don."

Okay that was a little weird. Obviously didn't want you to hear whatever he was about to say. Not that you would have really remembered anyway, since your mind was just focusing on getting the night over with.

Now you were feeling awkward not knowing if you had to stay in here. It wasn't clarified if you could come and go as you pleased. Not wanting to upset anyone by leaving, and they needed something. Two of these men were the owners you just didn't know who.

"Now for even more fun." Watching as the one who had tattoos on his neck pull out a bag with white stuff in it.

"Jesus fuck Andrew." The super attractive one groaned angrily.

"What?" Shrugging his shoulders as he continued to dump some on the table, pulling out a razor blade messing with the powder.

"What did I say about doing that here?" His voice stern in a warning tone.

"I mean you've said it but that doesn't mean I'm gonna listen." Cutting up some lines ignoring Joel's warning.

"I said not here." Raising his voice slightly.

"This is your club Joel." Ah so he was one of the owners. "Are you telling me I can't do this here? Or do you just not want the lady to see?"

Suddenly all four pair of eyes turned to your figure hiding in the corner. It felt as if now you were under some type of spot light. This was exactly what you were hoping to avoid, and now you were the topic.

"Andy knock it off." The fourth man spoke up. Noticing he had curly hair, and looked like he could be related to Joel. Maybe he was the brother.

"She doesn't need to see that shit." It was surprising that he was almost trying to shield you from the drugs.

"Like you don't snort this every other day Joel." He argued sarcastically back, and you could see Joel seething. "Or you either Tommy."

"I said not here." He didn't back down a vein popping out of his neck. "That's my final warning."

You could tell there was so much tension between the two of them. It was clear Joel was the man in charge, and this Andy guy was a trouble maker. The other two guys looked like they wanted to stay out of it.

Maybe Joel didn't want you seeing this cause you are new. Or maybe in a sense he was trying to impress you. It was probably because he didn't want you telling the cops on them or anything like that.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Andy smirking over at you ignoring Joel now.

Looking between the two men wondering if you should answer or just stay silent. Joel nodding his head signaling it was okay. Not sure why you were looking to him for approval anyway.

"Y/N." Sheepishly responding back to him.

"That's such a sexy name." Andrew smiled but his words just made you cringe.

"Thank you." Responding not wanting to make him angry.

That's when Andrew leaned forward more towards you giving Joel an evil look before turning his attention back to you. You could feel like things were just going to get worse.

"How would you feel about giving me a lap dance?"

Soon as the question left his lips Joel didn't hesitate to stand up, and stomp over to him ready to fight. The other two men standing up as well ready to hold him back from killing the man. Backing yourself up against the wall scared of what was about to happen.

Joel standing face to face with the man who just stood there smirking like he was winning. He acted like he wasn't terrified, but on the inside he was shitting his pants.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?"

[countessvalentines]

Best Bourbon I've Ever Tasted

pairing: cooper howard/f!reader

word count: 2.8K

warnings: 18+ Only, Minors Do Not Read!! sexual tension, smut, alcohol, swearing, oral sex,

summary: you meet cooper howard at a networking mixer hosted by vault tec. Neither one of you enjoy the scene so you sneak away to make your own.

notes: you voted on the premise, now here it is! If y'all like it and want more, let me know! :)

dividers by @saradika

gif by @doortotomorrow

Despite not wanting to be at a corporate party, you have to admit the venue is impressive. This mansion has picturesque lighting, perfectly placed trees and shrubs, a pool that looks like an ancient Greek bath and an ornate firepit. You'd seen a few nice houses in L.A at this point, but nothing this lavish as this place in the Hollywood Hills. 

This is what they call a "networking mixer," really just an excuse for people in the industry to show off and feel important. As the new face of Abraxo cleaner, your agent insisted you go. Vault-Tec was hosting and they hadn't picked a cleaning agent partner company yet and Abraxo was hoping your winning smile and personality would win them over like you had America. 

You make your way around, smiling and nodding at various suits. You definitely aren't loosened up enough for the "networking" part, and would much rather not do it at all if you can avoid it. You find a relatively quiet spot by the pool to collect your thoughts, and to consume a bit of liquid courage. You see a nearby pop-up bar set up and order yourself a gin martini... You need something strong for this. As you wait for your drink, you look around the party, seeing if any familiar faces are in the crowd. There's a few representatives from Abraxo you've met a few times, some familiar Nuka Cola faces that are at what seems like every function in L.A., and some Vault-Tec suits that keep trying to sell people on their "Hollywood" vault. 

You hear the bartender call out a gin martini, and you turn to grab it. As you reach for your cocktail, your hand comes into contact with another... 

"Oh, I'm sorry." A familiar voice says as you brush hands with them. When you look up, your eyes widen as you realize who's hand you're touching. It's Cooper Howard. 

He quickly takes his hand away and offers you the drink. 

"Ordered the same thing." he explains the mishap. 

Cooper Fucking Howard ordered your drink. You didn't expect to see him at this event - of course you knew he'd been the spokesperson for Vault-Tec, but word on the street was that he was trying to distance himself since the divorce. Maybe representing the company that employs your soon-to-be-ex wife was too uncomfortable. Who could blame him? 

As you're silent and lost in thought, he looks up at you. "Well, uh, please. You take this one." He insists. As you take the drink from him, you find your words. 

 "Th-thank you." Graciously you nod and accept. 

Quickly, the bartender brings up another gin martini and places it on the countertop Cooper tips him for both of your drinks and with thanks, he holds up his glass to you.

"To coincidence." He says in a toast. 

"To coincidence." You reply as you clink glasses together.

"You're the new Abraxo girl, right?" He asks, walking from the crowded bar and lighting a cigarette. 

He offers one to you, and you accept, so he leans his lighter into the cigarette now between your lips. You're shocked he recognizes you, but you're flattered.

"Yeah, that's me." You put on your best commercial voice. "If you've got a clog that's full of muck, trust Abraxo to get it unstuck!" 

You both chuckle at the bit and Cooper holds his hand out for you. 

"Cooper Howard." He introduces himself to you as if everyone in this place doesn't know who he is. 

You nod in acknowledgement and take his hand, introducing yourself in the process. 

"If you don't mind me sayin" Cooper says while taking a drag of his cigarette and a sip of his martini. "You seem a bit too good for..." He gestures at everything around you. "...this." 

Inquisitively, you tilt your head and take your own sip of the cocktail you're holding. 

"How's that?" You ask curiously. 

"Well, you should be makin pictures, pretty face like that? Wasted on commercials if ya ask me." 

The comment takes you by surprise, did Cooper Howard just compliment you? Did he just call you pretty? In your stunned state, you remain silent as he looks at you apologetically. 

"Forgive me if I crossed a line..." He says while putting the cigarette in his mouth and his now free hand on his chest.

"No, no." You interrupt. "It's just that I... I didn't expect that. Thank you." Finally acknoweldging his compliment. 

He looks relieved and smirks sideways. He seems to appreciate your humility. 

"Whys that, now?" He asks, sipping the martini while maintaining eye contact with you. 

"Well, To be honest I've heard quite the opposite from casting directors." You explain, looking down, somewhat embarrassed at the explanation. 

"Wanna know a Hollywood secret?" He asks, leaning in and taking a step closer to you.

When you nod, he leans even closer to your ear and says in a low but audible voice, "Casting directors don't know shit." 

You can't help but get goosebumps from the baritone in his voice, and a giggle spills out of you. 

He smiles in response and continues... 

"I started as a stunt man, ya know." He says while finishing the last of his cigarette and putting it out on a nearby planter. 

"Director asked me to stand in for a second, read a couple lines." He polishes off the martini. "He liked how I read, next thing I know, I'm replacing the guy the casting director hired." 

That's something you didn't know and wonder how many other people do... then it dawns on you. 

"I bet half the people here are casting directors." You point out. 

"Well, if someone complains I hope they kick me out." Cooper teases. 

"Not having a good time, Mr. Howard?" 

You ask, half already knowing the answer.

"Please, call me Cooper." He requests in a pleading tone. "And, if I'm honest, this isn't exactly my idea of a good time." He confesses. 

That, you can understand. 

"My agent thought it would be good to 'keep up appearances'. Not many people are looking to hire an old cowboy anymore." He seems saddened, almost defeated and you can't help but feel for him. 

You've heard all the rumors, you know about his divorce and the lack of work. You've respected him as an actor and been a fan since as far back as you can remember. Seeing such a talented and seemingly genuinely kind man in this town is a rarity, especially among actors. It's such a damn shame. 

"Casting directors don't know shit, right?" You remind him of his own words while trying to catch his eyesight with your own again. 

He smiles sincerely at you, eyes bright and shining. "That's damn right." 

There's a pause between you, full of a tension you can't quite place. In the silence, you finish your drink and place it on a nearby server's tray. Once you turn your attention to Cooper again, he breaks the tension.

"Can I get you another drink?" He asks politely, pointing behind you to the bar. 

You're about to answer yes, when an idea comes to you. Neither one of you want to be here... maybe an appearance was enough to appease both your agents. 

"How about I get you a bourbon?" You suggest, a hint of mischievousness in your voice. 

Cooper cocks his head a bit, looking at the nearby bar. "They don't have good bourbon, I asked." 

"Ah, well, I guess we'll have to get bourbon somewhere else, won't we?" You ask playfully, the liquor in the martini taking effect and giving you a sudden confidence. 

"I spose you're right..." He trails off, trying to deduce your plan. 

"Follow me, try not to make it obvious." You say in a quiet voice as you lean close enough for him to hear. 

You begin to walk towards the back gate of the backyard that leads into the rest of the Hollywood Hills. You turn your head over your shoulder to see if he's following, and by some miracle, he is. 

You smile to yourself as you find a trail behind the mansion, leading up to the Hollywood sign... Perfect. 

Carefully you remove your heels and start walking up the trail, your stockings instantly dirty from the dusty walk. The two of you make light conversation on the fifteen minute hike, both of you more winded than you'd like to be. 

Once you get just underneath the middle of the Hollywood sign, you stop to catch your breath and announce, 

"We're here." 

Cooper looks around, arms outstretched. "Is there a bar in the side of the mountain I don't know about?" He jests. 

You exhale a laugh and lead him to a darkened corner of the trail. It's so dark you can't see a thing, but you know your way. Cooper takes out his lighter to illuminate the path a bit and he sees a small cave mouth.

"What is this?" He asks awe stricken. 

"I'll show you, cmon." You reply while gesturing for him to follow. 

Once inside, a small hot spring is revealed, a few small boulders and shrubs around and some green grass and moss the closer it gets to the water. It's like a small private oasis... 

As Cooper looks around in astonishment, you dig through a nearby bush and pull out a quarter empty bottle of bourbon. You slosh the bottle around to get his attention, and it works. 

"As promised" You say, offering him the bottle. "Sorry, no glasses here. Think you can share?" You ask with a smirk. 

"I guess I have to." He playfully remarks back. He takes an impressive swig and hisses as the alcohol goes down his throat. As it settles, Cooper hands the bottle back to you and you take an equally substantial sip. 

His curiosity gets the best of him and he has to ask, "Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No, actually." You explain while sitting on the edge of the hot spring and removing your soiled stockings.  "It's off limits during the day and it's damn near hidden at night. I found it getting lost one night, but that was when I first moved here years ago." You explain. "Far as I know, no one else has found it or used it. At least, my bourbons still here every time." You say shaking the bottle of bourbon and offering it back to him. 

He comes closer to you to accept the drink and you dip your feet and calves in the warm water. You let out a satisfied sigh as you can feel your muscles relax. The mixture of the strong liquor and the warm pool is sensationally soothing, and you feel your mind relaxed along with your body. 

Something about Cooper makes you feel like you've known him for longer than an hour, and you feel less intimidated by him than you thought you would. 

Cooper follows and sits next to you, taking off his black cowboy boots and placing his feet in the water, his pants getting slightly wet. 

"Ah, damn. That's nice after that hike." He says, taking another generous drink from the bottle. 

"I hope it was worth it." You say, placing your hands next to you and leaning back on them slightly. 

"Of course it is." Cooper replies. "Free bourbon, a natural jacuzzi and a beautiful woman for company? You bet it's worth it." He flashes that trademark winning smile in your direction and you can feel your heart beat a little faster. 

"You flatter me." You reply as you look away, cheeks turning pink. 

"I don't do that sweetheart. I ain't just blowin smoke." He says in his smokey voice as he puts a hand over yours on the earthy floor. 

It's then you know he definitely is hitting on you, and you can't help but give in. One of the world's most famous cowboys thinks you're beautiful and good company... What better compliment could there be? The tension you felt before feels more palpable than ever now. 

In your alcohol induced confident state, you lean towards him slowly, pursing your lips slightly and inviting him to close the distance between you. Cooper obliges and captures your lips with his, tentatively at first, but when you kiss hungrily back, he responds in earnest. 

He dips his head to deepen the kiss, parting his lips and inviting your tongue to dance with his. His hand reaches up to cup your face as he scoots closer to you, kissing passionately. As your tongues dance together, you move your hand to his chest and gradually scratch your nails down to his stomach. With less support, you instinctively lean back and Cooper takes this as an invitation...Not that it isn't. 

His body presses against yours, pushing you gently to the ground. As you move, you continue kissing, each kiss growing more and more desperate. Your hands move across his stomach, tugging at his shirt and yearning for more intimacy. 

With the wordless suggestion, he breaks the kiss to remove his shirt tossing it to the side before leaning down to kiss you again. You smile against his lips as he moves his kisses from your lips to your neck, moaning softly as he does. One of his hands roams to feel your hip, gradually sliding down your form fitting dress and feeling your thigh. You lick your lips in anticipation of his next move and you exhale a soft whimper.

Your lust has built significantly since his hand touched yours and you feel your arousal intensifying. He lifts your dress and slides his hands underneath it, caressing the soft skin of your inner thighs. His lips kiss up your neck to your jawline to your ear, before he asks in a husky whisper, "This okay, darlin?" 

Eagerly you nod before kissing him again, your tongue parting his lips needingly. Cooper presses his chest against you, lifting up your dress to your hips and slowly moving his body down yours. He starts kissing your inner thighs, before biting your underwear and pulling them down with his teeth. 

Your head rolls back, your hand reaching for his hair. You intertwine your fingers in his dark hair as he continues planting kisses further and further up your thigh. Your clit pulsates, anxiously awaiting any form of touch. You bite your lip as you feel his fingers part your slick, wet, folds and his lips lightly brush over your sensitive bud. He plants a kiss there before parting his lips and flicking his tongue over it. 

You gasp sensually in response and your hips roll up to meet him. His tongue moves faster and faster against your clit, before slowing down and pushing his tongue inside you. He repeats this pattern a few times before gradually licking up your opening to your clit teasingly. 

Your hips roll into him faster and faster as your arousal builds and builds. As he continues his delicious motions, your hand reaches down to grab the ground but finds his hand instead. He laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand tight, accepting your tightening grips as encouragement. His tongue starts rolling circles around your clit as he takes his free hand and inserts two fingers slowly inside you. He pumps them slowly, in and out, while his tongue continues licking your clit. 

You can feel yourself getting close to your sexual peak, and your grip on Coopers hand tightens. Your whimpers get loud enough to echo in the cave around you, interspersed with curses and moans. Your clit pulsates harder and you can feel your muscles contracting around his fingers. Sensing this, Cooper pulls back momentarily to look up at you...

"Good girl, come for me... that's it." His words are enough to send you over the edge and with a scream your cunt releases, your entire body spasming and your vaginal walls contracting over and over as you feel the wave of pleasure wash over you. 

Cooper continues to kiss your inner thigh, sliding his hands up your body and moving up with them. He brushes your hair out of your face before leaning down to kiss you sweetly. You taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his kiss. He breaks the kiss and moves his lips to your ear, smiling against your skin. 

"Best bourbon I've ever tasted."

[crazyk-imagine]

Things I Hate... Oh, and Oranges

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Plus size!reader

Characters: Rafe Cameron, Plus size!reader, Topper Thornton, Kelce, Sarah, mentions of the pogues

Warnings: Biggest warning ever, yall ain't ready, their characters aren't as bad here, fluff, rafe being a simp, rafe totally in love with reader, topper and kelce are butt heads in a friend way, not the obx way, Sarah and reader are casual besties, like they did a group project, vibed and have been friends ever since

Word Count: 773

Based on this post

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah told you to come by around this time because no one would be home, and you needed somewhere quiet to study.

She forgot to mention she'd be out with John B.

You don’t mind though; it makes things a little easier since she won’t be around to distract you with her gossip.

-

Rafe walks in and stops as soon as he passes the entrance to the kitchen, wondering if what he just saw was real or not.

He takes a step back and stays in the shadows, watching you.

He brushes a hand through his hair, wondering if he looks okay or if he needs to change his shirt. He looks down and frowns, the blood stain from Barry is visible.

He runs upstairs to change his shirt, wincing at the tingling in his hand. He groans under his breath, “serves him right.”

He doesn’t regret punching his dealer, Barry knows better than to provoke him.

-

You wander around the kitchen, searching for a few items.

You stir up the better by hand, rather than trying to figure out how Sarah’s mixer works. You swear she only bought it so only she could use it and no one else.

A knock on the doorway alarms you causing you to almost spill the contents in the bowl. “Holy- you scared me.”

He chuckles, “sorry, I was- I didn’t mean to.”

You huff and smile, “it’s fine, a little jump start in the heart never hurt anyone.”

He chuckles, “what’re you making?” He takes a seat on the other side of the counter.

“My special bread.”

“I didn’t take you for a stoner.”

Your jaw drops, “I am not.”

He chuckles, “okay, Cheech.”

You shake your head and place it into the cute little bread pan you bought her. “Now we wait.”

His eyes follow you as you sit back down at your little study corner. “What’re doing?”

“Studying, what are you doing?”

“Watching you.”

You roll your eyes, “wouldn’t you rather be out, talking to some cute girl?”

“I already am.”

“Smooth, too smooth on your part, Rafe.” You glance up from your textbook, “did you practice that one in the mirror?”

“I’d rather practice on you.”

“I hate how good you are at this.”

The corner of his lip tugs upward, “I know.”

The ding of timer alerts you.

“Yay,” you cheer while running towards the oven to take it out and take a whiff of the goodness it’s giving off.

“Do you want to try some Rafe?” You ask, cutting into the hot loaf.

“You actually want to share with me?”

“Don’t be like that, Rafe. I’m being nice here and this is how you pay it back.”

He chuckles, “no, give me a slice.”

“Manners.”

He pouts, grabbing a plate and holding it out in front of him. “Please, can I have a slice?”

“Yes, you can, you dramatic little dork.”

“Nothing about me is little.”

You play off the heat in your cheeks as the air emanates off the bread. “Sure, sure.”

-

Kelce and Topper walk in, searching for the sweet scent wafting through the house.

“Yo Rafe,” Kelce calls out. 

“In the kitchen.”

“You all speak so kindly to each other,” you tell him.

“Always, baby.”

“What smells so good?” Topper asks, stepping closer to you.

“Did you get a new perfume or something?”

You shake your head, “nope, just made my infamous bread.”

Their eyes practically widen at the sight. “We can’t wait.”

Kelce turns to Rafe and furrows his brow, “I thought you didn’t like orange?”

You turn towards him, seeing as he shoves the last piece of bread into his mouth. “You don’t like orange?”

He tries to argue and tell you he does but can’t as the other two take over.

“Yeah, he’s never been a fan of orange since he was a kid and his dad-” Topper smacks Kelce’s chest, causing the man to wheeze.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Rafe tells them as he takes a sip of water.

You grab his wrist and stop him. “Be honest, Rafe.”

He spins around and stares at you. “When am I not?”

You stare at him with a deadpan expression.

“Okay, I’ll be honest.”

“Do you or do you not like the loaf of bread I made?”

“It’s delicious. You know I think I could even eat it by myself.”

“You’re not lying.”

He shakes his head, “when have I ever lied to you?”

You shrug, “fair enough.”

[yanderecrazysie]

Can we get a love poison scenario with Satan where he basically drugged reader into loving him after she rejected him. But the things about this love poison is that externally and verbally reader seems to be now deeply infatuated with him.

But internally her true aware self is still in there trapped and silenced by her drug controlled body.

I felt uncreative with the name lol but I absolutely love this idea

Title: Black Magic

Pairings: Satan (Obey Me) x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, drugging, wizarding AU

Summary: Never trust another wizard’s potion.

"Take a sip of my secret potion One taste and you'll be mine It's a spell that can't be broken And'll keep you up all night"

-From "Black Magic" by Little Mix

“Woah, are you sure you’ve done it right? It’s all pink.”

Your potions’ project partner, Satan, gave you a shrug, his blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. You were sure you didn’t look much better than him- you could feel sweat beading on your brow and rolling down your temples. The heat from the two cauldrons in such a small space was definitely getting to you both.

“The goal of the project was to create a potion that makes the drinker happy, right?” Satan asked, giving the potion a swirl with the mixer.

“Right,” you replied, “But mine is yellow. Not pink.”

Satan gave you an awkward smile, “I don’t mean to brag, but I am the top of the class, (Y/n). Have you considered the idea that it’s not supposed to be yellow?”

You frowned, reaching out for the potions’ book, but Satan pulled it out of your reach and read it, “It doesn’t say anything about the potions’ color. I guarantee you, though, this potion will make you happy.”

“Not as happy as my potion will make you,” you shot back with a laugh.

The two of you each pulled out a vial and dipped it in each other’s potions. For a moment, you considered the bright pink liquid with a hint of hesitation, then you downed it. If something was wrong with it, there were All-purpose Antidotes a few feet away in the glass cabinets.

Satan was smiling like an idiot, so unlike the calm smile you’ve seen on him before. You tried to tell him “I told you so” but you were unable to open your mouth. You felt like you were floating, but not in a good way. Almost as though you were in a fog.

“Satan…” the voice that left your mouth was not your own. It had a dreamier quality and a soft sigh at the end. Almost as if… “I love you.”

You tried to take the words back and apologize, but nothing came out. A dopey smile spread across your face and you couldn’t wipe it from your lips.

Satan’s smile grew wider as he watched the love potion take full effect. Your eyes grew hazy and adoring, your stare relaxing into a loving gaze. He had hoped for this outcome, but seeing you transform into what he always wanted you to be… it was far more exhilarating than he could have ever imagined.

He stepped around the cauldrons and moved closer to you and, to your horror, you leaned closer to him until your lips nearly grazed his. You screamed silently at yourself to back away, to turn and run, but your mind and body were no longer one. Your mind was confused, betrayed, horrified….

But your body just wanted his touch.

“How do you feel?” Satan asked, “Happy?”

“So happy, Satan!” you cooed, “I’m so happy because you’re here! I love you, Satan!”

He reached out a hand and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. Such a romantic motion sent shivers down your spine. “I’ve always wanted to hear you say that,” he murmured. 

You wanted to ask what was wrong with him, why he had done such a thing, but you were no longer connected to your voice.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Satan said gleefully, his smile stretching into something insane, a mix between your happy potion and his sick pride at turning you into a mindless lover, “But you never look at me the way I want you too. This is just a… nudge in the right direction. Surely you understand?”

“Of course I understand!” you whined, “I don’t know how I never saw you before!”

“I don’t know either,” Satan says in a voice so smug you wish you could punch him in the face over it.

“You and (Y/n)? When did you two become a thing?” Mammon asked, eyes zeroing in on the way you held hands with Satan. Your hand squeezed his so tightly that it hurt you, but you couldn’t stop.

The giggle that left your mouth was so unlike you that you felt sick, “Why do you sound so surprised?”

Mammon hid a pout, “No reason at all.”

“Mind your own business, brother,” Satan said softly. You just giggled and wrapped your arms around Satan’s. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Aww!” Asmodeus said loudly, “So cute!”

You wished you could vomit all over Satan’s stupid, shiny shoes to show him just how displeased you truly were. You were counting down the hours until the potion wore off.

Satan spent nearly an hour showing off your relationship. You couldn’t wait to give him a good kick in the crotch once you were finally out of this fog. 

But, to your horror, Satan pulled out a vial of pink liquid, handed it to you, and said “Drink.” 

Your love-bound body didn’t hesitate.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

With his faded tats

Sings in a cover band

Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod

Oh my, oh my god

I like Dylan a lot

But oh god I love Dylan's dad

Word Count: 6k

y'all loved part 1 so I cooked this up for ya <3

Summary: You just fucked your boyfriend's dad...now what?

Warnings: voyeurism, slight confrontation, light fluff, but lotsa dirt

“Sweetheart. Wake up. Wake up.” Strong hands grip your shoulders, you feel light kisses decorate your shoulder into your neck tickling your skin and you find yourself giggling awake. “Wake up.”

Eddie’s face comes into view, and his worry lines are accentuated, and hairs standing on your arms tell you something was off. “Hmm?”

Before Eddie could even tell you what was going on Dylan bursts through his bedroom door. “Dad, have you seen—” he stops mid sentence, scanning the room quickly, you naked in Eddie’s sheets, same as his dad, and you can see the moment it clicks, his face moving from concerned to angry in a split second. “What the fuck—”

Eddie interrupts him, the white sheet around his hips he had held together by one fist completely unhelpful to his case. “Dylan—”

“No, what the fuck, guys?” He switches his glance to you, and the anger melts as the hurt seeps through. “Seriously. I-I really cared about you. I mean I knew you were too good for me, but my dad? You fucked? My dad?”

Still on Eddie’s bed, still naked, you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

His eyes flicker back to Eddie, the anger coming back to the surface. “Seriously? Hooking up with my girlfriend? Yeah sure, she cheated but you’re supposed to be my fucking father!” His teeth grits together, a mist appearing behind his eyes. “Fuck you both. I’m out of here.”

He storms out of the room, and you wrap a sheet around you to follow him. Eddie lets his sheet drop to stop you. “Move.” You tell him, staring at him dead in the eyes.

“No.” You roll your eyes, wrapping yourself tighter in the sheet, feeling self conscious now.

“I need to go talk to him…I-I have to apologize.” You look around hopelessly, wondering where the silk pajamas you were so eager to take off were now hiding, and tears threaten to escape your eyes and the sniffles are not too far behind.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He holds your face, catching a tear that falls. You refuse to look him in the eye, knowing just one look will make you melt. “Let him settle down.”

“Did you see the look on his face?” You whisper, finally reaching Eddie’s eyes.

He gulps, placing a solid kiss onto your forehead. “I did.” He hums and tugs you into a hug and you realize it’s the first physical touch he’s given you that wasn’t remotely sexual. His chin rests on your head and you tuck yourself into him, and it was hard to stop the tears from coming in from the guilt.

He leans back again, hushing you softly. “Sweetheart…” he started, catching your attention with the intention behind his tone. “Even if we didn’t do anything this morning, do you think you could’ve held back for very much longer?” Your head shakes no in the grip he held your chin in. “I would’ve given us another week, maybe, tops.” He leans in to steal your lips in a sweet kiss, one that sent butterflies invading your tummy.

“So, we would’ve ended up hurting him anyway?” You ask, the idea sour in your mind.

“I’m saying I wish you didn’t go to that mixer. Wish I could’ve met you at a bar, or a coffee shop…maybe things wouldn’t be so messy.” His fingers are lightly resting on the back of your neck, thumbs framing your face. You smile at the idea, thinking in some alternate universe Dylan didn’t have to end up in the crossfires.

Your eyes start to scan the floor looking for clothes, anyway. “I still want to apologize.” You sit on his bed, reaching down for the floor to find where the hell you tossed the two-piece off to.

Eddie sits next to you, now in a pair of boxer shorts. “Sweetheart.” He calls for your attention, you grunt, annoyed. “Baby.” You start to get frustrated, the pajamas no where near in sight. “Y/N.” You freeze at the use of your name, leaning up to see what he had wanted. “Give him time. He won’t be ready for apologies. He probably doesn’t want to see your face right now.”

Eddie gently takes some hair sitting on your shoulder, and a shudder ripples through you as it tickles as it glides across behind your back. “You know who does want to see your face?” He leans in to kiss your shoulder, his tongue feeling tempting in your skin as he moved up your neck. “To see it all bent back as I make you feel good?”

You moan lightly, warning Eddie this was not the best time for that. He grabs hold of your chin, turning it towards him swiftly before capturing your lips in a dirty, wet kiss. His hand rested heavily at the top of your thigh, you were still wrapped in his sheet, so it wasn’t really touching your skin but the weight of it earned a meek whimper out of you.

Eddie pulls away, and your eyes are clouded in lust as you stare with your mouth half open at him. The sheet drops from one of your shoulders, grabbing onto his face to pull him again. You’d already forgotten how delicious of a kisser he was. Your tongue swipes at this bottom lip, asking for access, to which he moans and grants immediately.

He reaches around you, yanking off the sheet with zest. “Lemme see that gorgeous body of yours.” He mutters, continuing to kiss you, his callused hands sweeping over. They worked like magic, as they moved along it was like he transformed goosebumps onto you. One hand lands on one of your tits, and he pulls apart just so he can watch the way your nipple perks up at the touch of him playing with it. He watches as your breathing grows shallower.

A crooked smile slowly inches across his face, watching your eyes close as he experiments with just the smallest of touches making you fall apart. He leans in, delicately placing his tongue on it, the touch sending a ripple straight to your core. As he watches he just can’t help himself, his teeth grazing the peak and you let out a small wine as you start to lay on your back.

It only encourages him, sucking on the bead and the surrounding areola through his teeth, and as he pulls back to watch his work, he sees the forming of a mark. His brown eyes overblown with lust, an idea forming in his head. He licked the distance from your mound to your neck, the touch of it exuding pure pleasure through your body and your legs shake from it. “Mine.” He whispers, and suddenly the same motion he used on your tit is on your neck, and he worked his teeth and tongue on you, the pain and pleasure mixed together earning more involuntary mewls out of you. “All mine.” He makes his way across your neck, spending time making sure each spot gets its own mark.

By the time he’s on the other side of your neck your thighs are squeezed together, wanting some relief to the heat that has pooled in your cunt. He finally pulls back, and the beginnings of the hickeys that are forming give him a sense of satisfaction he couldn’t possibly describe. “There. All marked and claimed.”

The sentence drives you wild, and you reach up for him. “Kiss me again.”

A guff of laughter escapes his mouth from the desperation in your voice, but he does as you plead, anyway, the sound of your breathless, fucked out voice just from his tongue and teeth across your neck going straight to his cock. As his tongue his yours again the want to touch him spreads through you like wildfire and you reach out to palm him, and your mouth muffles the choked-out moan.

Your hand moves up and into his boxers, fisting him and the weight of his cock in your hand makes you suddenly desperate for more.

“Need you inside me.” You gasp, letting go and pulling the boxers down to reveal his pretty cock. Your legs automatically find their way around his hips, and he stutters as the force of you pulling him in startles him.

“Fuck, baby.” He stutters out, the desperation in you too hot to handle. He leans into your ear, his chest against your own and the skin-on-skin contact makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He finally places his two fingers on your clit, massaging lightly but enough to finally give you some release. “You want me to fuck you again? Pound you?”

You nod desperately, and Ed keeps massaging your clit, making sure you were prepared for him to fuck you senseless like he had planned. Your legs fall from his hips desperately, his expert fingers only moving enough to give you a hint of what you wanted but still giving some relief. Eventually he scoops of some of the slick gathered around your entrance and coats his cock in it, the glisten of it reminding Eddie of pure sin. Fuck, he couldn’t go another fucking second without being in you.

He guides his cock into your entrance, and the guttural moan that involuntarily escapes your lips is the best sound in the world. Maybe next time he could record it and make it his text tone.

Your legs wrap around his hips again, nuzzling your nose to inhale the scent you’ve already memorized but couldn’t get enough of. “Your cock…fuck. So good.” You whisper, and the words can’t seem to come out at how fucking full he made you feel.

“Your tight pussy, baby.” He grunts out, his voice gruff in your ear. “God, I could make a religion for it.” You giggle at this, and the way your pussy pulsed with your laughter it just pulls another moan straight out of him. He pulls back, hooking his palm to frame your face and there’s this shine in his eyes as they bore into yours. He pulls his hips out, his mouth opening, but focusing on your face as he does so, watching your reaction mimic his own.

His hips snap against yours, pleasure bubbling up in your tummy as your eyes remain on his darkened gaze. His pace picks up, and your breathing matches, and it was like neither of you blinked as a bubble of pleasure circled around the two of you. A smile breaks on his face, his dimples prominent through the authenticity of it. You reach up blindly for his hand on your face, interlocking your fingers. He places them over your head, and a smile breaks across your face, nodding as you watch each other just get closer and closer. His grip tightens around your own, and your thumb starts absentmindedly rubbing his.

Your smile ends up molding back into an open mouth, Eddie letting go of your hand to use it under your knee and hike it up, using the angle to fuck you even deeper. He can see the immediate difference it makes for you, a shift in your face as your eyes glaze over, still watching him. Your breaths turn slowly into whimpers, and as his hips moved faster you found it harder to keep your eyes open.

“Keep watching.” Eddie whispers, and you listen, though his face is blurring as it gets harder to. “That’s a good girl, keep your eyes on me.”

Your face lights up at the praise, his hand hooked around your knee digging into the delicate skin of your thighs as he holds your leg open. A shudder runs through you, something Eddie hears loud and clear as the feeling of almost there starts to invade your senses.

“That’s it, baby, keep watching.” He whispers, and he leans in to kiss where your jaw meets your skull, little kitten licks causing a whimper out of you. He leans back up to pull your eyes back on him, and the other hand framing your face he puts two fingers into his mouth, licking delicately before making a show of putting the two on your clit.

Your mouth falls open, and your chest stutters at it expands. “Almost there?” You nod, and his fingers move a bit faster and the orgasm waves over you, his fingers working you through it as your pussy fluttered around his length.

He fights to keep watching you but his hips stutter through his own orgasm washing over him, but his eyes remain on yours, the flush of his cheeks and the sweat starting to glisten his forehead making him hotter when you didn’t think that was even possible.

He still rubs your clit as your orgasm finishes, and he stops gently, slowly moving his hips to a stop as well. His body weight collapses on yours, but his forehead clashes on your own, blown out eyes still on yours. “Holy shit, baby.” He whispers, a soft smile lighting up his features.

You smile back, tilting your head. You lean into kiss him, and it starts of delicate, his tongue barely grazing yours, but it’s not enough for you. “Ed.” You mumble, and it feels like he’s purposely pulling back to not give you the hot messy kisses you had started to crave. “Kiss me.”

He lets out a low chuckle. “I am, baby.”

“Kiss me harder.”

“Just had one of the best orgasms of my life, sweetheart, and you want more?” You just nod, and Eddie gives you a look of utter perplexity. Fucking youth.

“Please? I want more. Your cock feels so good.”  You take advantage of his stunned inclination and lean in for a harder kiss, dirtily moving your tongue along his own and he moans into it, his hips stuttering in yours.

You sneakily bend the leg that he didn’t hook, getting a solid feel of your foot against his bed and quickly push off, effectively putting Eddie onto his back. You smile at the success, and a giggle bursts out of you as Eddie stares up at you in complete awe. “Wanna ride you.” You giggle out.

Eddie nods slowly. “Got that.” He sits up though, needing to feel your tits up against his chest again.

You lift your hips up, hooking both arms around his neck. His arms hook around your back nails digging into your back as you slam down, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. You start to roll your hips, the smell of sex exuding from the both of you. “Fuck, you use those hips so goddamn well.”

These words only encourage you, of course, your hips moving a little faster as the movement goes from circles to actual hip thrusts. You lean into his neck, licking a long stripe from the crook of his neck to his ear, making him shudder in response. “Fucking Christ.” He exclaims and you feel a sense of pride from it.

You nip at his jawline, the day-old stubble scratching at your face but you didn’t mind. You lean back, and your legs start to ache as you bounced on his cock, but you don’t mind, throwing your head back. Eddie scooches forward on his bed, eventually getting to the edge. He presses his feet solidly onto the ground and uses the traction to assist you, snapping his hips harder.

The extra assistance hits deeper, and involuntary high-pitched whines leave your throat at each thrust. He responds by tugging on your hair and it only makes your heat squeeze tighter around him. Eventually you slowed down, out of breath and overwhelmed, your hips still slowly thrusting.

You didn’t even need to tell him; he follows your cue. “Get on all fours.” He whispered, and you nodded, whining as you climbed off his cock.

You crawled forward so he could climb on the bed behind you, but he grabs you and pulls you back to him. He lines up his cock with you again and thrusts right into you. Within only four thrusts you find yourself unable to stay on your hands, falling to your chest.

He stops. “Stay on those hands, sweetheart. If you’re gonna be greedy better act like the slut you are.”

You put slowly move back onto your hands, and your arms are weak but only when they’re fully expanded does Eddie start to continue. His hips snap even harder now, and your arms are so weak you find yourself focusing on staying on your hands. A whimper escapes, your arms buckling from the pleasure alone. “What, baby can’t follow simple instructions?”

You whimper, feeling pathetic. He fucks into you about three more times as he takes pleasure watching how much your arms shake beneath you. “Alright, you can let go.”

You sigh in relief as you fall forward, and Eddie lets out a dark chuckle. His hips remain bucking into you at the rate they were, and all the energy you focused onto your upper strength can now be used in your throat as you let Eddie know just how much you loved this position with him.

The sounds that left your throat were borderline animalistic, all rough as you choke out, “Fuck, fuck, so good.”

He stops for a second, kissing down your back as his hand wraps around your neck. Your eyes roll back at this and his hips continue their journey. Your pussy tightens, not a sound coming from you, but Eddie can feel your legs tense up around his own, signalling just how close you were. “Gonna cum in this pussy again.”

Your vision is somewhat blurred when he lets go of your neck, and you fall back forward when the same hand wraps itself around in your hair, grabbing a good chunk. “Oh my good fucking slut. All mine.”

“Yours.” You manage out, the beginning of the orgasm starting to overtake you. “All yours.”

These words alone bring Eddie to another high, as his hips stutter, filling you up and from the cum in you this morning to the first round, it just ended up dripping down your leg. Eddie watches, bending over to watch obscenity of the white glistened substance dripping down your leg. He can’t help it, leaning in to take a long lick up it to clean it all up.

He takes his finger against the other thigh to scoop some up and when you turn around in question to ask, he holds up his own cum, and without any hesitation you put your mouth around the finger, enjoying the salt with a slight metallic taste of your own pussy. The taste of you two together. Fuck.

Your lips leave his finger with a pop, and Eddie lets out a sigh of disbelief, his mouth upturned into a smile. “Fuck.” He walks to his drawer, pulling out the pink two-piece you spent so much time looking for.

“You sneaky little bastard.” You laugh, grabbing them from him. “I needa shower. And my overnight bag.”

“Let me grab it.” Eddie mutters, putting on a pair of sweats and leaving his room. You can hear him knock on Dylan’s door, and Dylan answers.

“What?”

“She needs her stuff.”

Dylan doesn’t answer, put the sound of your bag being thrust in Eddies face is heard followed by a door slamming. Eddie is back in the room within seconds, a look on his face you can’t quite decipher off the bat.

“He’ll forgive you. One day.” You tell him, though you’re not sure you believed it.

“Hm.” Eddie mutters, placing your bag in front of you. “Took him a long time to forgive his mom.”

You knew nothing about their divorce, a subject Dylan liked to avoid. From the look on your face, Eddie knew you were clueless.

“She had an affair, which is why we divorced.” He explained, and he says it with such indifference you could tell he had already closed the wound. “He was only ten, and that woman was his world. He was so mad he wanted to live with me instead.” He sighed, sitting on the bed next to you. “I don’t know how long he’ll take to get over this...or if he will.”

“He’s still here. That should be a good sign.”

“Maybe.”

You lean into kiss him, petting his face in comfort. “Wanna join me?” You ask him, mostly to cheer him up, but also because the water droplets running down his tattoos is a concept that made you drool.

“Oh, sweetheart. Just the pick me up I need.”

-

Luckily, unlike the shower in the main bathroom, Eddie’s was big enough to hold the two of you. You stood underneath the water, basking in the feeling as the water soaked your hair. Eddie grabbed the shampoo you brought in, and before you knew it his elbows raise, and he starts massaging it gently into your scalp. Your eyes close in response, humming as his rough fingers were so gentle and intentional about their touch. He kisses your cheek as he finishes, assisting you backwards into the spray and helping wash all the soap out. He guides the hot water away from your face, scratching lightly at the scalp to make sure all the bubbles are gone. He repeats with conditioner, working it into the ends and a lighter scalp massage with the excess, and you’re a pile of goo when you open your eyes as he finishes.

He smiles lightly, and you lean forward to kiss him fiercely. You look around, seeing the curly hair shampoo on the shelf next to you. “Lemme.”

He melts into it, and you pour some shampoo into your hand. You work it into his hair, slowly massaging and watching as his face loses all the tension. Each wrinkle smooths out, a sigh of content leaving him. You get all his hair coated in the shampoo, making sure it was good and prepped. You maneuver your bodies so he’s under the water, and soon you find yourself reaching on your tip toes to see if the bubbles are gone. He takes pity, chuckling and he moves onto his knees. You thank him graciously, now able to work the water so it washed out all the shampoo.

You moved for his conditioner, right across from you and his arms wrap around you as you do so, lips reaching your abdomen right underneath your tits. He looks up at you, and it takes you aback momentarily. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve his shining eyes and parted lips, but it wasn’t enough.

“Need you back on your feet.” You tell him, and he slowly moves back onto them, hands framing your face. You place the conditioner on his ends, watching as his eyes closed again. All the excess conditioner on your hands you moved into his scalp, not quite as deeply as he did for you, but he leans into it anyway.

His hands find their way onto your hips, moving you back under the water to rinse the conditioner that has been soaking. He gives you the same care as before, working with such intentionality. “Done.” He mutters, and you grab his arms to silently instruct him back onto his knees so you could do the same.

As the conditioner leaves his hair, that same unguarded look on his face as you helped him, he glances around you for your body wash.

Before you knew it he’s back on his feet, pumping too much liquid in his hands and working the soap along your body. He smiles as the soap on your tits are a sight to see, but he doesn’t focus on it too much, working the soap everywhere, putting focus on each part. Each arm, your tummy, your neck, your ass, each leg, until you’re nice and lathered. He pushes you lightly back into the now lukewarm stream and from your goosebumps alone he turns up the hot water a bit more.

The soap cascades down your body, and you watch as he gathers a scoop of the water by itself. You were about to ask when he soaks your pussy in it, giving it a quick rinse. Your eyebrows furrow at him. “Not supposed to use soap on that. Water is fine, it’s self cleaning.”

You knew that. You were just surprised he knew that. He hands you his soap with a smirk on his face, presenting himself for you to lather up.

You do so, and you take your time with it, noting each freckle, each dip, each straggly hair with more and more awe. The bubbles on him showing a wet shine and glisten was borderline erotic but like him you appreciated the visuals and continued to take care of him. When he was all lathered, including his dick, you turned him under the now lukewarm wash. You almost move to turn up the heat, but he stops you. You watch as all the bubbles away, him enjoying the last spray under the water. He turns it off and holds your hand as you both climb out of the tub. He grabs one of the towels hanging on his racks, putting it around his hips.

You expect for him to give the other one to you to dry off, but he yanks it from out of reach, and moves it up and down your body, drying you off. He finally hands it to you, and he walks away before you could extend the same offer.

As he got himself dressed in a pair of sweats and an old band t shirt you grab a pair of looser shorts and a plain sweater from your bag, and as you’re finally dressed with your hair situated but damp you watch the door anxiously, knowing it was time to face the music, as you could hear the tv downstairs.

Eddie comes behind you, wrapping his arms over your shoulder. “When you said apologize earlier…”

“Apologize that I didn’t have the decency to break up with him before making a move with you.” You answer.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Eddie lets out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head.

“What did you think I meant?” You asked turning to face him.

“Small part of me was worried you were going back to him.”

“What?” Your eyes widen, and your face expresses the exasperation you felt in the very idea of it. “Why would I have slept with you again if I wanted to go back to him?”

“I dunno, you think I’m hot?”

“Well, duh.” You roll your eyes and cup his face in your hands. “Truth is, the moment I realized just picturing you got me off more than being with him did I should’ve called it off.” You tell him, and Eddie’s eyebrows tilted in a wee bit of pride. “I came over for that sleepover knowing you were here. I fucked him on that couch and in his bedroom knowing you could hear me.” Eddie’s pupils dilated and you giggle at the response. You lean in to kiss him, fierce and emotional. “I’m going to apologize for how it happened and how I treated him. But I won’t apologize for us.”

He smiles and wraps you in a hug, allowing you only a few more moments in bliss before you walked down together.

-

The first attempt at the apology could’ve gone better. “Hey, Dylan?” You called, halfway down the stairs as he scrolled through his phone while watching White Collar. Fuck. That was his comfort show.

“Yeah?”

“Hey. I just wanted to come down to apologize.”

Dylan looks over, sees Eddie on the stairs, you by the couch, and his face twists in anger. “Fuck, did you shower together?”

Your eyes widen, and it didn’t occur to you that this might’ve been a bad idea, rubbing your new relationship in his face. It was an accident, but in hindsight in considering his feelings this should’ve been a given.

“Sorry. I just wanted to apologize for how I ended it.”

He looks up at you, and then looks back to his show. “Really? Not for sleeping with my dad?”

“I should’ve broken up with you, first.”

“Fuck, really? You’re telling me you’re sorry that you cheated on me? And that’s all you’re sorry for?”

You nod because it was true. “I stayed with you for the convenience. That was shitty of me, I’m sorry I used you.”

“Wow.” He switches his glance back to the tv, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “This apology might seem a bit more genuine if your neck wasn’t fucking purple.”

Your hands fly up to the hickeys Eddie gave you, and you had forgotten all about them.

“Dad? Nothing to say?”

“I think we should talk about this when she’s not here.” Eddie says, and it seemed like a good idea to you.

“And when will that be?” He shoots up at you, giving you an angry look he’s never once directed at you before. Fuck, this was going to be weird getting used to.

“When she’s ready.” Eddie tells him, and there’s a bit of parental tone in that.

“Sorry. My bad.” He sarcastically bites out. “Sorry dad.” He looks at you. “Sorry, y/n.” He runs up two stairs. “Oh sorry, I mean, sorry step-mom.”

His door slams, and Eddie’s laughter he is holding back barks out.

“Was that supposed to be a burn?” You ask Eddie, side-eyeing him.

“Welcome to parenthood, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, passing you on his way to the kitchen.

Oh. Fuck. Your ex-boyfriend was your new boyfriend’s son.

Shit.

-

As you remain cooped up at the Munsons, Dylan did his best to avoid you. Not that you blamed him, you did sort of break his heart. You had some incoming texts but it felt weird to address the world for the moment, one thing for Dylan to know, another for your best friend and mom to know.

And everyone else after you soft launched your relationship on Instagram two weeks ago.

Would they be able to tell if you just started using Eddie’s hands?

After another mind-blowing round with Eddie in his bed, the door opens to Dylan, his eyebrows raised perplexed. “Can you guys stop fucking for like a day? Jesus Christ, man.” The door slams and you hear him down the hall and down the stairs, “All fucking day!”

You both burst into giggles, getting dressed together and the two of you finding it hard for the laughter not to leave your mouths.

Hours later, laying together watching a movie of his choice, Eddie starts slowly petting his thumb along the exposed strip of your skin along your waistline. Somehow, the moment you were horny he picked up on it every time. You lightly pushed his thumb off, leaving goosebumps behind but the heat already gathering at your center.

“You know he’s just giving you a hard time.” He whispers, his soft deep voice sending chills down your spine.

“Still.” You mutter, doing your best to pay attention to the movie.

Eddie leans back and his legs begin to shake for a few seconds until he sits up. “Ok, what if we give him a bit of space?”

Your eyes squint at the gleam in his eye. “Space?”

“My truck?”

You smirk and take his hands he offers to help you off his bed with glee.

“Going for a drive.” Eddie calls on his way out the door with you following behind him.

“Whatever.” Dylan calls back.

Eddie runs to his driver’s seat, attempting to open it. He pats himself and leans back exasperated. “Fuck. Forgot my keys.”

“I can go get them.” You offer, turning back to the house.

“Or…” Eddie smirks, leaning towards Dylan’s truck.

“Ed…” Eddie reaches for the door, and it opens, and he opens his mouth in mock surprise.

“I can just go get your keys.”

“I taught that little shit to lock up his truck.” He says, shaking his head. “C’mon. Be my dirty girl.”

He climbs in the back seat, his smile radiating a mischievous energy. He knew how much his smile let your guard down. “He did want space...”

“Now we’re talking.”

You climb into his back seat and straddle his hips, leaning in for a wet kiss. Immediately you feel the boner poking through his sweats, and you couldn’t help yourself, you grind down on it eagerly. “Oh, I can already feel how wet you are.” He chuckles, grinning at you with a wild look in his eye.

A laugh huffs out of you, the dimples melting you. He leans in and kisses at your neck, rutting against your heat which radiated against his cock. Eddie sits up, shimmying against the seat to get the sweats off. You move to get your shorts off, but he shakes his head. “Leave ‘em on.”

You tilt your head, and he scoops around the middle of them, putting his dick in and inserting himself into you. You open your mouth as he does, Eddie soaking in your darkened expression. You grind yourself, Eddie grabbing onto your ass as you do so. You lean in for an open and dirty kiss, and he chuckles into it, and suddenly the kiss is dirtier, all teeth and tongue as he ends it with tugging onto your bottom lip.

You gasp onto him in response, and he kisses it to make it feel better. You push your fingers into his hair, nails digging in as you tug at the roots. Eddie lets out a whine, something you haven’t heard yet and your hips start bouncing harder out of sheer pride as you two grab onto each other harder.

Eddie moves you onto your back along Dylan’s back seat and fucks you harder, his sweats barely off and his shirt still on while you’re still clothed. “Fucking whore just always ready for my cock, huh?”

You nodded, the feeling in your stomach already tightening up. “Always wet for you.”

“You take it so fucking well, too.” Eddie keeps rutting into you, his hot breath breathing heavy against your neck as the heat in the car rises. Your hands find their way up his shirt, clawing down his back as he fucks so hard against you. “Fucking slut just loves being whored out. Gonna fuck you everywhere.”

You nod, and he can feel the idea turn you on, you tightening around him in response. “Oh, my little slut likes that idea, huh?” You nod again, whimpering in response. “You love the idea of being found with my cock down your throat in a dressing room or back of a movie theatre.”

Eddie didn’t know how it was possible that you tightened around him even more.

You felt so close to the edge, the orgasm just there.

Chirp, chirp.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

About five minutes later, Dylan gets in and drives away in Eddie’s truck.

You stare up at Eddie with wide eyes and move your hips a little to indicate you still wanted to finish. In fact, Dylan finding you just turned you on.

Eddie chuckles darkly, leaning into your neck. “Oh, you fucking slut.”

-

About 8 hours later, you get home, tossing your keys on the counter.

“How was the sleepover?” Your roommate calls out from the couch, cross legged as she rewatches Buffy for the millionth time.

You hesitate in your answer and turn around to start making yourself some ramen noodles.

“What happened?” She asks, watching your face slowly.

“Uh…” you’re cut off by your phone ringing. It was your best friend. “One sec. Hey, Bethany.”

“Oh my god. You’ve been dead silent for days. I need to hear about it.”

“One sec.” You mute yourself and look up at your roommate. “You wanna hear about my weekend? Here.” You unmute yourself. “So…I fucked his dad.”

“YOU WHAT?”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Those who specifically requested for part 2: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy x Age-Gap! Reader Headcanons:

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word Count: 2k (warning: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Oh Roman Roy, you're really making me fall in love with your sad little face and your slightly softening heart this season. Thank you for this request, please enjoy these thoughts about Roman Roy with a younger, but still very much legal adult, reader. Also please fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

Update! Part two here 😀

- Roman Roy has always felt simultaneously like he's never really grown up, and that he was never allowed to be a child. Growing up as the youngest son of Logan Roy he wasn't allowed the chance to make the silly mistakes of childhood folly. Logan had been through that before and frankly he needed Roman to be a serious adult from the moment he could comprehend his father's disapproving glare. Naturally this was an impossible ask of a small, sensitive boy, and led to blows to back of the head when tears threatened to stain the silk shirt he'd been so uncomfortably forced into for another endless press event where he stood like a prop, just desperate not to get in any more trouble or let his dad down worse than he already had.

- As Roman entered adulthood he began to be left out of all the rooms where serious people met and talked about things he could never quite get right; he's wasn't self-interested enough, he didn't have those killer instincts, he couldn't rid his head of the thoughts of how many people would be affected by the company's every move. As Logan and Kendall started to tire of his quippy comments, relegating him to waiting outside for busy work, he could feel himself struggling to meet the thresholds of adulthood that Ken seemed to have carried with him for as long as Roman could remember. This dichotomy of boy and man left Roman feeling like he was never quite comfortable with his age, unsure what lense to see that number through. And then he met you.

- Getting a job at Waystar may have left you feeling a little morally uncomfortable, but you reminded yourself that ten years experience there and you'd be able to get any job in any industry you like, while also being able to pay for your own place. So you pushed that feeling down each day as you entered that office full of rich old white men. Given you'd actually had to earn your place there, rather than just knowing someone, it wasn't long until your work ethic, intelligence and ingenuity had you climbing the corporate ladder in your department and getting you noticed by some of the much higher-ups. Naturally they tried to just take credit for your work, but when the day came that Logan actually asked for an explanation of a report you'd produced, Frank had no choice but to put you in a room with the big boss face-to-face.

- You'd heard nothing but bad things about Logan Roy and as he stared at you in pure contempt while you answered his questions, wondering why his time was being wasted with this young thing from the bullpen, it took all your resolve to hold your nerve, giving short answers and trying not to give him anything to hold over you. Every so often you'd let your eyes flick over his shoulder to the man standing behind him, ten years older than you but pulling at the sleeves of his shirt like a little kid as he watched you face the interrogation, outwardly seeming far more nervous about the situation than you did. After fifteen minutes of watching you hold your head high and speak so confidently about your work, Roman was staring at you unashamedly in a mix of awe, intrigue and disbelief. Despite the age gap you seemed to have all the facets of a self-assured adult that he felt he'd never quite unlocked, while exuding the joyful exuberance of youth he'd never been allowed. He needed to know more about you, so when Logan shouted at Gerri to 'throw you in a dress and bring to this week's investor mixers' he could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the sheer hope and possibility of the answers you might hold.

- You weren't thrilled to spend your evenings surrounded by colleagues, stood to attention in case anyone needed a question answering, but you didn't hate the full railing of designer evening wear that had been sent to your apartment for the occasion. You found yourself trying to blend into the shadows of a corner, unsure of your place in this room and this crowd, wondering if any of the food on display was actually for eating, or if that would be seen as a massive faux pas. Luckily Roman had been keeping an interested eye on you all evening; who you'd spoken to, what you'd been dressed in, the frankly adorable face you'd pulled when Frank handed you a Whiskey twice your age and you took a very unwilling sip, feigning appreciation before slinking away to stick your tongue out at the burning taste. And finally he built up the nerve to approach you now that you were alone, trying to approach casually by picking up a grape from the ornate platter beside you, only to take a bite, realise it was plastic and having to hand it mortified to a waiter that had watched the whole thing from your side. He could feel the blood burning in his cheeks as he watched you try and stifle a laugh, both mortified that you already knew he was a fool and pleased that he'd been able to bring a smile to your face this evening.

"Yeah yeah fuck you." He laughed as he stopped just in front of you, all the words he'd planned to share failing him now that he was close enough to see the beauty in your sincere smile as you shook your head,

"Really I should thank you, now I'm one step closer to figuring out what's actually edible here." You replied with a warmth that almost made Roman recoil, so used to the icy chill he usually received from those around him.

"Well certainly not that whiskey." He nodded to the short crystal glass you'd been trying to put down since Frank handed it to you, tone sarcastic but without the cutting edge he was usually one to deliver. "Why is that the one thing these old fucks actually like to be their own age?" As you laughed again Roman felt a little victorious, he had set himself a pretty low bar but he was confident he was going to be the highlight of your evening.

- As you spent the next week being dragged to different events, you'd always find Roman slinking to your side before the night was through, as if you'd always been old friends, just counting down the hours of everyone else's company. You'd counter his one-liners and then ask him where he'd rather be on a Friday night and make him realise he didn't really know any other kind of night. So when you'd list off your weekend plans, and hobbies and interests, and tell him stories about your friends that had his hyena laugh echoing across the otherwise solemn room, he'd start to realise just how much he was missing out on, and how much he wanted to explore that with you as his guide.

- It stopped being enough, just finding you on odd evenings. Roman would start finding your desk at Waystar, pretending to just be wandering through a junior office coincidentally. He'd glance at his wrist, ignoring the fact he'd forgotten to put on a watch this morning, and comment that as 'technically kind of your boss' he needed to make sure his best employees were actually taking a lunch break, and also were you hungry? Sometimes during the day he'd just melt onto the floor beside your desk, chatting about nothing as you tried your best to type and pay him the attention he so desperately craved. He'd start having all of his meetings in the rooms on your floor so he could wave at you as he walked past the huge glass windows keeping your team contained, an apt metaphor for the walls up inside him he was worried you'd never cross.

- Poor insecure Roman, he'd really try and force himself to ask you out, but ultimately he'd be so afraid of the potential backlash of rejection, that it would be up to you to finally ask if he wanted to grab a drink after work, one Friday when he'd been particularly clingy. You'd take him to a fun, casual bar and watch his eye's light up at people playing darts or ordering fried food and generally the nice, relaxed atmosphere where he didn't feel he had to be the smartest person in the room. Occasionally a friend of yours would walk in a wave and ask how you were doing, and you'd introduce Roman as your friend with no shame or regret and he'd say something funny and get the same rush of pride at making you laugh that he did the first time, and he'd feel like maybe the more time he spent getting to know you, the better he could see himself, still young at heart but not the kid he once was. His lost childhood and misspent youth given a second chance as you offered to see him again next weekend.

- Once you open the affectionate floodgates Roman would be the clingiest koala you can imagine. He'd rarely be as direct as holding your hand, especially not in public, conscious of looking just like his father with a younger woman on his arm. But in the privacy of your little apartment, the one Roman fell in love with the moment he saw it, he'd take a slightly threadbare throw and toss it over the both of you as he all but crumbled into your lap when he wanted to talk about something he thought would make you run. Opening up about his father's wrath and his warped view of himself, glancing up periodically to check you hadn't ran away and left him behind, finding softness in your eyes instead of disappointment and sinking even more deeply into you.

- Roman would think you are an absolute fucking genius for everything you've done for yourself. Worked hard to be the best at your job? Genius. Manage your own bills and do your own laundry? Genius. Carry a water bottle around and make him drink some when he has a headache and somehow he feels better than he has in years? Genius.

- Roman would follow you to hell and back, but you'll have to forcibly remove him from your apartment when you want to go outside. He's never been somewhere that actually felt like home, every soft furnishing and mismatched bowl making him want to haunt your halls forever. If you ever make him a home cooked meal, he'll act like it's not a big deal, but honestly he's crying inside that anyone would go through the effort for him, and that he was the person they chose to be around. Cut to him going thrifting with you to buy five new dishes for you to cook in next time, plus anything else you like.

- Occasionally you'll successfully get him outside for a hike, or a walk, or even a day at a museum or arcade; and Roman will go full toddler on you. Pointing at everything excitedly, running around and shrieking, making sure he was your undivided attention and dragging you by the hand to look at everything. By the time you're home you're ready to collapse, only to notice Roman surreptitiously placing a little souvenir somewhere on your shelf, sneakily bought from a gift shop while you were in the bathroom, before pretending he has no idea how it got there.

- Roman is so enraptured by the incredible, rounded human-being that you are, that eventually some of your self-belief would start to rub off on him, making him feel more sure of himself than he ever has before. Thinking less about the approval of others (except you, he still desperately wants that), feeling confident in his ideas, and no longer feeling like he's stuck in Peter Pan mode - despite falling for someone ten years his junior, Roman would finally feel like he was becoming the man he was always supposed to be, thanks to you.

Let me know if you want a part two of this!

[thelaisydazy]

Hi!! I love love LOVE your fire fighter au SO SO SO much!! I’ve been thinking about how they would react to a fire at your place or the bakery? Or if it burned down?

I am uhh new to requests and tumblr stuff in general so sorry if your requests aren’t open!! 🥺❤️

Hi anon! If the request button is up on my blog, you're welcome to drop in anytime!

I've had the idea for a fire at the bakery for a while now but never finished writing it. I hope you like it!

CW: fire, injury (mentioned)

You’re in the back of the bakery, the air is thick with black smoke. You crouch close to the tile floor, coughing desperately for air. 

You came in slightly earlier that morning. It was just you and a new baker, one you were certain didn’t know a deep fryer from a mixer. He’d shouted for you to help him finish icing a couple cakes, you weren’t the most skilled at it but he assured you it wasn’t for a special order so you just went with it. 

Then he just vanished, not telling you about the already burning bread in the oven and the overused parchment paper left in a heap near the fryer. As you turned to fry a couple donuts, the parchment ignited. It spread so fast you couldn’t escape, you were trapped. 

You were going to die. There was no way you were not going to die here. You lay your head down on the tile, still desperately gasping for oxygen. 

There was a loud crash near the double doors that led to the storefront. You think it might be the shelves collapsing as they’re burned away. You don’t see the shape that pushes through those doors. You don’t hear it as it stomps up to you, crouching low to wrap strong arms around you. 

Air.

Oxygen floods your lungs and your head clears and you catch sight of a firefighter. He’s huge but he carries you as though you might shatter to pieces if he’s not careful. You barely catch a glimpse of a skull under the helmet as you’re lifted into his strong arms. 

---

You wake up in the hospital, the bright lights stinging your eyes. 

“Aye! They’re awake!” A familiar voice shouts before the room fills with people. 

Your vision clears and you recognize the voice belonging to Johnny, and he isn’t alone. Kyle, John, and finally Simon flood the room, all fussing over you. 

“You had us scared to death, love,” Kyle’s gentle voice coos. “We didn’t think you’d make it for a minute there.”

John’s gentle hand finds your head, smoothing over your tangled hair and he offers you a warm smile. Your eyes find Simon though, and the sling he’s wearing. 

“What happened?” you ask, worry settling over your features.

“The bakery was going to collapse,” John answered. “Simon insisted on going in to look for you, he got you out just in time.”

Your stomach twisted at the idea that he'd gotten hurt trying to save you. You open your mouth-

“It’s just a sprain,” Simon’s gravelly voice says. “S’not as serious as it looks. ‘M fine.” 

You can’t help but feel as though he’s lying, but you’re in no condition to argue with him. “What about the bakery?” you ask. “Is it..”

“It’s gone, sweet one,” Simon says. “There was nothing we could do.”

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift. 

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.” 

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night. 

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend. 

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner. 

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing. 

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote. 

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face. 

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you. 

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen. 

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen. 

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus. 

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back. 

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers. 

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets. 

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone. 

You chuckle in response. 

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came. 

And will still be one after you. 

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself. 

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments. 

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges. 

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say, 

I got you.

*

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar. 

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even. 

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure. 

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something. 

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service.  You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus. 

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top. 

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts. 

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece. 

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised. 

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you. 

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy. 

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks. 

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start. 

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone. 

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar. 

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband. 

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.” 

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about. 

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb. 

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next. 

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.” 

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her. 

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings. 

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.” 

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely. 

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly. 

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service. 

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out. 

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him. 

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook. 

“Good service tonight,” he says back. 

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies. 

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t. 

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile. 

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you. 

“Hey!” 

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again. 

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively. 

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you. 

“Always, Carm.”  

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack. 

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh. 

“Is that even a real question?” 

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed. 

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant. 

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop. 

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara. 

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself. 

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had. 

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate. 

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil. 

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times. 

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him. 

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no. 

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta. 

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again. 

No awkward tension of things left unsaid. 

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t. 

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen. 

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs. 

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back.  “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you. 

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks. 

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself. 

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully. 

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.” 

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs. 

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. 

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.” 

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face. 

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm. 

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin. 

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. 

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now. 

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless. 

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that. 

On your favorite fucking dish. 

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit. 

That he only got them for you. 

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever. 

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt. 

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you. 

It’s just you and him. 

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath. 

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip. 

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going. 

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been. 

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you. 

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now? 

Now, could be different, if you’d let it. 

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it. 

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead. 

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you. 

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently. 

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can. 

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off. 

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. 

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off. 

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body. 

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing. 

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’ 

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is. 

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless. 

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. 

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off. 

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand. 

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care. 

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours. 

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you. 

You both gasp at the feel of each other. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment. 

“This okay?” 

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts. 

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.” 

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts. 

But you’re in desperate need for more. 

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much. 

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls –  anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight. 

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you. 

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice. 

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger. 

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain. 

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips. 

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses. 

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say. 

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.” 

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him. 

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse. 

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had. 

It feels… magnificent. 

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder. 

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

[atinyniki]

just kiss me already!

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!bangchan x f!reader

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive at the end

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, fighting (verbal), 3racha chan (songs unreleased), friends with current skz members, suggestive

authors note: this shit actually sucks but i tried even tho i had no motivation. ill make another chan fic soon to compensate. this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 2858

“oh my gosh you bitch”

“hey! don’t call me a bitch just because you suck at the game”

you haven’t one a single game against chan since he came over. 

“i don’t wanna play anymore”, you say with a pout.

“awh come onnn don’t be a sore loser”, he smirks. 

it’s not that you don’t wanna play because you’re losing, you just don’t want to play because you both have been at it for four hours.

“let’s watch a show instead!”

“fine, but i’m choosing.”

it’s pretty easy to get chan to do what you want. you’re his weakness, he’ll do anything to make you happy to be honest. you never seem to notice the way he looks at you, or how much he tries to get your attention. 

on the other hand, you absolutely adore chan. not just the way he looked, even though he is incredibly beautiful, but you admire how caring he is. at first it was just minor attraction, but then you got closer and well… you know.

neither of you realize you’ve loved each other for so long.

“chan? can you come over please? it’s important”

“yeah of course i’m on my way”

within the next two minutes he was in front of your door. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you laugh a little when you see the look on his face. “chan i’m fine, i just need help.”

“so you made me run all the way here for nothing?

you drag him to the kitchen and close the door behind you, rolling your eyes. “i never asked you to run here dumbass. you literally live next door”

chan walks into the kitchen and freezes when he sees the state of it. bowls everywhere, flour and batter scattered all over the countertop, and an assortment of cookie cutters placed next to the stan mixer.

“listen, i really need to make two hundred cookies within the next two hours. my oven can’t hold more than twenty four at a time. could you maybe bake like half of them in your oven?”

“why would you need two hundred cookies…?”, he asks incredulously.

“it’s my friends birthday tomorrow. she loves these cookies”

“oh jeez… okay fine. how long do i need to bake them for?”

“twenty six minutes…”

“yes ma’am, ill be on my way then”. he quickly grabs the trays of cookies and gives you a peck on your forehead, lips lingering for a second too long, and runs back to his house. 

you could still feel his lips on you, but you continued swapping out trays in hopes to distract yourself. 

chan didn’t burn a single cookie. your friend loved them.

“hyung come on! don’t be a wuss”, jisung pouts.

“no jisung. not happening”

“hey well you’re the one that chose dareeee”, 

“fine i’ll just take a shot.”

the entire circle broke out into disappointed groans, but you decided to move on from chan. 

“y/n! truth or dare”

you jerk your head towards lily, “what? who said it’s my turn?!”

“me. now answer”, lily says a matter-of-fact-ly 

“fine. dare”

“you. chan. seven minutes in heaven. right now.”

you look over to chan, silently asking for permission with your eyes despite how nervous you look. you know you don’t have to do anything but… what if he wants to? no. he would never. he doesn’t like you like that.

both of you get up and walk into the room, and changbin quickly turns the lights off and leaves.

“do the lights really have to be off?”

chan walks over to the light switch, hands fumbling to find the knob. he slowly turns it so that the lights are dimmed, but enough so that you both can still see.

chan walks over to the bed, patting the part of the bed next to him and inviting you to sit down. you silently walk towards the bed and sit down, instantly covering yourself with the blanket.

“it’s freezing in here… how does seungmin survive in a room like this?”

“hm… no wonder his personality is always so cold.”

you both laugh a little at chans comment. seungmin has a thing for tormenting chan. subconsciously, you cuddle up to chan, still shivering a bit from the cold.

he seems to get the memo, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. moments of silence pass, and it’s been far too long without a sound for it to not be awkward.

suddenly, chan feels a weight on his shoulder and turns to look at it. you’re sound asleep, he accounts it to either your tipsiness or your exhaustion from working all day. 

he holds your hand for a bit, the warmth of it passing through your whole body and causing you to let out a satisfied hum in your sleep. he grabs his phone to text changbin. 

“y/n fell asleep. we’ll be in here for a while if that’s okay. you can continue without us”

“yeah yeah whatever just say you want to make out with her in peace”

“shut up changbin.“

the next morning, you wake up in chans bed. your head starts ringing and you think about what happened the night before. you’re slowly starting to become aware of your surroundings, and the snoring coming from beside you. 

“chan. chan wake up”

“mmmhh”

“chan what happened last night”

“hm?”, he says as he finally peaks his head out of the covers.

his senses slowly come back to him, and his face instantly flushes red, the crimson color kissing his collarbone too. you’re dressed in his shirt that’s far too large for you, with a pair of his shorts on. the shirt reaches all the way down to your mid-thigh, even while sitting down.

you look at him, waiting for him to answer. “chan are you okay?”

“hm? oh yeah sorry. nothing happened don’t worry, you were just tired so i brought you home, but you insisted to stay with me”

your face flushes red, and you realize what you’re wearing. you look down, playing with the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing. “sorry about the clothes by the way, you just looked really cold so i offered them to you”

oh. so he didn’t dress you. thank god. you don’t think you could have faced him if he did. “thank you channie.”

he smiles at you, ears going slightly red at the tips. he doesn’t want to admit what that nickname does to him, especially in your voice. you quickly get out of bed, telling chan you’ll be back soon. you go to your house to get ready for the day.

no matter how much you douse your face in cold water, the red tint doesn’t seem to fade. 

“wow chan this is amazing!”

his face goes red as he chuckles, “thank you y/n”

changbin doesn’t fail to notice how shy chan gets around you, but he decides not to talk about it while you’re here. instead, he snickers with jisung in the corner. 

“shut up you two. i know what you’re on about”

the both of them instantly sit up straight, going silent. 

you continue listening to the rest of the tracks, loving every second of it. you give hums and nods of approval, watching the boys’ faces light up every time.

not too long after, the boys left, leaving just you and chan in his studio. you’re humming along to one of the songs he showed you earlier. he couldn’t help but smile, hoping you wouldn’t notice that it made him just a little bit too happy.

you and chan are sitting on your bed again, watching the new kdrama that just came out. your heart jumped in your chest as you watched the scene intently, the heat of it making your face flush red. 

“damn when is someone gonna kiss me with that much passion”, chan jokes. you couldn’t help but laugh. you two have gotten a lot closer recently, and you’ve found out that chan is really into skinship.

he has you cuddled up with him under the blankets right now, your small arms wrapped around his bicep. you look up at him, just to admire him a little as he focuses on the show. what you didn’t expect though, was for him to turn his face only mere seconds later.

only then do you process just how close you are, how your lips are just inches away from eachother. chan seems to notice this too, his hands fidgeting with his drawstrings. he gives you a small smile, and turns his head back to the movie.

you’re probably being delusional, but you swear something had changed in the way he looked at you. 

“y/n please, do something. he isn’t listening to us…”

“i’ll be there soon.”

you quickly rush over to chans house, knocking on the door to his studio.

“changbin i said leave me alone.”, chans voice was harsh. youve never heard him sound so aggressive towards anyone, he was normally really sweet. you motion to jisung and changbin to leave the room. 

“i got this, it’s okay”, you whisper to them.

“chan it’s me. please open the door”

the door flies open within seconds, and you take in chans state. his hair is a mess, two dark purple splotches under his eyes. there are energy drinks scattered all over his desk, broken pencils and scattered papers.

“what… happened?

chan began to speak, but you cut him off.

“we’re going to bed. tell me what happened there”

“n-no! let me save my work at least.”

you walk in the studio with him, waiting on the couch as he quickly saved his progress. you both walk out the room, entering his bedroom and settling under the sheets. 

“go to sleep, ill be here when you wake up.”

you try your best to stay up, but you just couldn’t let yourself. sleep takes over your body, eyes becoming heavy and finally fluttering shut for the night.

you wake the next morning to an unfamiliar warmth. chan has his arms around you, his head buried in your chest. you thought he looked adorable like this, until he looked up at you when he realized you woke up. 

his bloodshot eyes stared back up at you, and you began to process the teardrops staining your hoodie. 

you don’t say anything more. you just pull him closer, rubbing small circles along his back. “i know you’re feeling overwhelmed right now, but you need to let all this out somehow. if you need someone please call me. you know im always right here”

chan doesn’t respond, he didn’t trust his voice enough. his body trembled in your hold, nuzzling his nose into the comforting warmth of your chest.

once he’s calmed down a little, he looks up at you again. you stare at eachother for a good while, just like you did when you watched that movie. there was something different swirling in his eyes, but you just couldn’t place it.

instead of worrying about that, you quickly placed a peck on his forehead, feeling him relax in your hold. he falls back asleep not too long after. he must have been tired.

“WOOOO!!”

you hadn’t felt so alive in months. you knew it was incredibly childish, but you missed having someone to push you on the swings. chans arms pushed you so high you felt like you could touch the stars.

the moon shines so beautifully, covering the park in a light glow. you looked ethereal, that’s what chan thought at least. your bright smile lit up his whole world, your giggle making his heart flutter. the moonlight hit your face just right, your eyes shimmering in the darkness.

chan gradually slowed your swing down, not wanting you to thrash around. 

“done already?”, you say with a pout.

“it’s almost one in the morning, we have to go now”, he pouts back.

you both start walking back from the park, talking about chans plans for the future with 3racha. he seems so passionate about music, his eyes lighting up every time he mentioned changbin and jisung.

you look up at him, smiling a little as how cute he sounded talking about this. he looks down at you, the same unplaceable emotion in his eyes, but you stay there for a little longer.

he smiles at you. you instinctively smile back. his smile puts his adorable dimples on display, and you bring one of your fingers up to poke them. you both break out into a fit of giggles, beginning to walk home again.

time without chan began to feel like time you’ve wasted.

“i’m not leaving”

“chan please. you need to rest”

“jeez y/n, when did you start being so clingy? the only thing i need right now is to finish this. either stay here and shut up or get the hell out. i can’t have you nagging me, this is really important”

in the three years you’ve known chan, you have never once heard him speak like this. not to you, not to anyone. you held your tears in, making sure to hide them from chan before they fell, and darted out the door. 

you quickly made your way to your house, stupidly forgetting to lock your door in your upset state. you want to yell at him. not to be mean, but just to get it in his damn head that you care about him. you wish he’d just understand.

you clutch your sweatshirt in your hands, the pain in your chest was beginning to get unbearable. you quickly go inside your room and lock the door, flopping onto your bed as sobs rack your body.

not too long after, you hear knocking on your door. 

“y/n?”, you hear chan call out for you.

you make your way to the bedroom door, sliding down onto the floor. you don’t think you’re ready to face him yet. “what do you want”

chan was taken aback by the sharp tone in your voice. he knew it was coming, he just didn’t expect it to hurt so bad. 

“i’m sorry. i know you only meant good and wanted me to be okay but… i just have so much left to do. i’m overwhelmed and scared im not going to be able to get everything done on time and i lashed out at you. i know that’s no excuse to hurt someone you love but i really didn’t mean it. i’m so-“

“chan you’re rambling again”, you pout.

“oh i’m sorry…”

you quickly open the door, helping chan off of the floor. you quickly bring him to your bed and force him to lay down. “sleep. please”

he could tell you’ve almost lost your patience, so he huddles up closer to you and lets sleep overtake his body. “goodnight y/n. thank you”

today, you wake up to a different sight than usual. normally, chans face is buried in your chest or he’s hugging you from behind. this time was different. he was mere centimeters away from you, nose brushing against yours. 

you quickly shut your eyes, hoping you didn’t go red at just the sight of him.

not too long after, chan wakes and gets ready for the day, coming back into your home to see you already awake. 

you were dressed in a large grey t-shirt. you don’t quite remember where it came from, but it’s incredibly comfortable. 

chan recognizes it instantly. it’s the shirt he gave you the first night you slept over at his house. his heart swelled at the sight, wishing he could see you in his clothes everyday. 

without a second thought, he quickly runs towards you, sitting on the bed right next to you again. he’s looking at you the same way he has been for the past couple months.

this time around though, he does something different. his hand makes his way up to cup your cheek, his big hands swallowing some of your jawline too. 

he slowly moves his face closer to you, now only inches away from your lips. your heart rate quickens, feeling his breath fan over your lips.

“chan, just kiss me already. please.”

he tentatively moves closer, not getting a chance to process before you crash your lips into his. it’s a kiss of pure want and need. “fuck y/n. i’ve been waiting to do this for so long”

“i love you channie”, you whispered breathlessly.

a flip switched inside of him, immediately pushing you down onto your back while he hovered over you. he kisses at your jawline, red marks appearing all over your neck. “i love you so much baby”, he says in between kisses.

you couldn’t hold back your whimpers, the feeling was too much for you to handle. all of a sudden, you heard a loud ringing.

chan picked up his phone, sounding a little aggravated. “hello?”

“chan where are you?”, jisung asked him

“i’m with y/n. we’re watching a movie. why?”

“oh sorry my bad. have-“

he hung up before jisung could finish, eager to get back to you.

“now, where were we?”

<3

[alwaysurvalentine]

tastes like autumn - st fic

Written for Day 15 of @steddie-spooktober - prompt: baking - wc: 1.7k - cw: some cussing

enjoy! 💛

Autumn has painted Hawkins in hues of orange and red, trees dropping their leaves any time the wind blows. It’s cold enough that Steve’s taken to only wearing his sweaters instead of his favorite polos. He’s got his own place now and he’s even more grateful for it this winter when he remembers how awful it was to prepare the pool for the winter. Nothing worse than deep cleaning a pool when it’s cold and windy outside. His place isn’t big by any means, a tiny apartment above one of the shops downtown, but it does the job. It’s got one bedroom, a kitchen, and a massive living/dining room. 

The big living room was a big selling point when he moved in, wanting to have enough space for everyone to come over for a movie night or more recently, a D&D session. When it’s just him he likes to open all the curtains and windows to let the sounds from outside to filter in, mostly cars driving past but sometimes he’ll catch snippets of the conversations of people walking below. Sometimes Robin will join him on the couch in front of the window so they can people watch and make up lives for everyone they see. 

Today’s a quiet one though, one where he doesn’t have any work and no one’s planned on coming over. Which means Steve gets to bake. After the last and final round with the Upside Down, he’d finally been open to going to therapy. As soon as he’d agreed, Owens had given his information to Vanessa, who ended up being a good match and now they meet once a month. It’d been a long process, first having to meet up every week to catch her up with his personal involvement with the Upside Down. Soon it turned into her helping him with more mundane things, like why he hates the sound of a completely quiet house. Didn’t take long for her to suggest getting out of the Harrington House and into his own space. 

Now on quiet days Steve isn’t haunted by the memory of his parents disapproval when he moves room to room. No, now he gets to focus on things that he actually enjoys doing. One of which happens to be baking. He’s been looking forward to making this recipe from a magazine since he found it, but Eddie’s been staying over the last few days and he wants it to be a surprise. Plus, he knows better than to think Eddie won’t distract him from making sure he doesn’t burn the loaf by accident.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread stares at him from the torn magazine page and Steve smiles before pulling out the ingredients. There’s a radio sitting on his kitchen counter that he reaches over to click on, letting the sounds of Blondie fill the room. Since no one’s here but him, he shimmies his shoulders as he washes his hands, singing along as she belts about calling her anytime. 

It’s easy to sink into the methodic motions of baking. Dry ingredients get placed in his orange mixing bowl, clouds of dust and cinnamon causing him to sneeze and fan at the air before continuing. Steve hasn’t gotten around to buying an electric mixer yet, instead relying on his only whisk or his hands if the dough is particularly thick. 

Today he opts for hand mixing, rolling the sleeves of his yellow sweater up before reaching in. The pumpkin puree is sticky and thick but the eggs make everything feel slimy so he pulls his hands out almost as soon as he reaches in. Sometimes the feeling of dough in his hands makes him think of urging Eddie’s heart to start beating, reminds him of how he nearly dropped the metalhead multiple times on the way to the gate, blood making him almost slip out of Steve’s faltering grasp. A quick shake of his head and Steve tunes back into the radio, a song by Queen now filling his kitchen instead. He leans against the counter for a second, counting his inhales and exhales before trying again. This time Steve reaches in and doesn’t have to pull his hands out until he goes to add the chocolate chips. Normally the recipe calls for semi-sweet chips, but Steve’s gotten dark chocolate since those are Eddie’s favorite. 

~

The house smells like pumpkin, cinnamon, and chocolate. It brings a small smile to Steve’s face as he sits in the living room waiting for the loaf to cool. He’s feeling pretty confident so far, it didn’t rise too far out of the pan and when he stuck a fork in it the prongs came out clean. After the Biscuit Incident, Steve only tests out new recipes alone. No reason to give the party any more reasons to rag on him since they all act like glorified younger siblings anyway, knowing just the right buttons to push to get him riled up. Once he knows the best way to make a recipe, that’s when they’re offered to the party – soft cookies and moist cakes that melt just right in your mouth when you take a bite. All the dishes are next to the sink drying when he steps into the kitchen again. 

Steve edges a butter knife around the edges of the pan, urging the loaf away from the edges in hopes that it’ll come out of the pan easily. He places a plate on top of the loaf and flips the pan; luckily when he lifts it, the pan is empty and the loaf is resting in the center of the plate. Some of the chocolate chips have left melted streaks in the pan and he runs a slow finger through one of the trails for a taste.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s voice startles him and the pan in his hand finds its way to the floor with a loud clatter. “You okay?” Hurried footsteps bring Eddie to the doorframe of the kitchen, eyes wide as he takes in the scene: pan on the ground and Steve clutching a hand to his chest like he’s had a heart attack. He’s managed to get one shoe off but the other sits untied in his haste to identify the noise. “Glad to see your heart’s working.” It’s a joke that Steve’s heard Wayne make when he spooks Eddie coming around the corner of the trailer, it’s a way to let the other person catch their breath when they’ve just been scared. Steve takes the break for what it is and shakes his head fondly.

“Yeah, didn’t need you test it for me.” Steve fights back his own grin when Eddie smiles and winks at him, stepping forward to grab the pan from the floor. With the pan resting in the sink, Eddie kicks off his other shoe and then leans into Steve’s space. Chapped lips press against his and Steve leans in for another kiss before Eddie can pull away completely. When they do part, Steve can feel the grin stretching across his face. It’s nice having his own space that people can drop by unexpectedly but Eddie is supposed to be busy today.

“What happened to practice?” Eddie’s more focused on the plate behind Steve, already taking a step towards the counter to investigate. “Excuse me.” Brown eyes cut to Steve’s when Eddie registers the slightly bitchy tone Steve’s decided on. Steve’s smile gives away that he doesn’t really mean anything by it, just trying to get his boyfriend’s attention. Plus, there’s no way he’s going to let Eddie try it before he makes sure it actually came out correctly. 

“Gareth’s sister got sick, so he was stuck with baby sitting duty. What’d you make?” Again, Steve’s lost his boyfriend’s attention, Eddie going as far as to reach towards Steve’s loaf with a ringed finger.

“Hey! Don’t poke it. I made something new, which means-”

“Which means I don’t get to taste it until you do, yeah, yeah. Let’s cut a piece.” It’s hard pretending to be frustrated when Eddie knows him so well. With an eye roll and a playful huff Steve bumps Eddie’s hip with his before grabbing his butter knife again. 

“Go put your shoes up, then if it’s good you can have a slice.” It’s like watching Wile Coyote run off a cliff with how quickly Eddie swoops his battered Reebok up and darts into the living room. The butter knife passes through easily and a small trail of steam rises from inside the loaf. Steve can tell he put in too many chocolate chips already, the inside mostly dark instead of dotted like he expected; he figures Eddie won’t mind it either way. Gently, Steve tears off the corner of the slice, crumbs falling onto the floor when he brings it up to his mouth. It’s clearly not set enough to eat quite yet, but when Eddie’s found something sweet in the house it doesn’t take long at all for him to be digging in. Steve never complains because it just makes his kisses that much sweeter. 

The dark chocolate was a good call, blending in with the nutmeg and clove spices. It’s nice and moist too, melting in Steve’s mouth. Eddie’s come around the corner again, eyes hopeful when he takes in Steve’s relaxed expression.

“Good to eat, then?” And then he’s swooping in to tear off his own piece from the slice Steve made. As soon as he closes his mouth Eddie lets out a happy hum and closes his eyes in happiness. “You are a baking genius. This is delicious! What is this?” Another bite, and then a kiss placed on Steve’s head before Eddie starts to cut another slice. 

“It’s Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread. You mentioned last week not getting to the bakery early enough to get any of their seasonal stuff. And Mrs. Henderson let me have an old recipe magazine book so.” Steve shrugs and runs his hand through his hair before turning away. It’s embarrassing now, thinking about Claudia’s knowing look when he’d asked her if she knew any good recipes for fall that wasn’t pumpkin pie. 

“Baby, this is so good. And you put dark chocolate in here too, right?” All Steve does is nod, hands busying themselves with refolding his dishtowel that’s hanging on his oven door handle. “You spoil me.” There’s humor coloring Eddie’s words and Steve looks up to see a soft smile on his face. “Wanna spoil me some more?” He doesn’t have a moment to be confused, Eddie already closing the space between them and cupping Steve’s face. 

When Eddie kisses him this time, all he can taste is chocolate and cinnamon.