#once i learn i’ll always roll my r’s

[pcheyes]

once i learn how to roll my r’s its over for you bitches who could do it on the first try

[sintiva]

situationship(s)

eren x black!reader (chubby reader)

“r-ren’s enough… too much,” and when you say that he thrusts his hips a bit harder, making you really feel the way his tip pokes at your cervix. it makes you an idiotic mess, blabbering, stuttering and moaning as eren fucked you relentlessly from the back.

just real nasty toxic!eren who shoots your flimsy resolve down with terrific accuracy as he makes it his mission to shit on your ex, mid stroke, cause he’s a damn narcissist. it’s always shit about how bad your ex was; how he was an asshole, coniving, that sneaky sone of a bitch. he really was an asshole, so much so, he made jaeger look like a saint.

“was he as big as me? how many times did he make this pussy cum in one night?”

his words? they stung bad like the newly formed tears in your eyes, that you blinked away. they smushed your brain in between the palm of its invisible hands as his hips slam against your ass over and over. like a paddle to a ping pong ball, eren. didn’t miss. a. single. hit.

he didn’t miss the way your thighs trembled and your body would go all limp, as you moaned into the sheets to get rid of all that pent up sexual frustration. it ripped at your insides during the day, but burnt like a warm bonfire, steadily growing as you threw things at it. but you also missed the way how this — all this contact felt on a day-to-day basis when you two were together, once a normal couple.

“all this squirming, baby? ex wasn’t fucking you good enough, huh? left this pussy aching for some real dick. you just needed me to dig this pussy out”

mhmm

he reaches for your arms, locks them together behind your back with both of his arms. now he can really control everythingyou’re back arches up, your body trembles and you pull yourself off his dick. mumbling some things about him being too rough, being too mean, and something ‘bout, “stoo hard, daddy-“ sniffles, “,”gentler please.”

eren silently complies, but while he has you in his grasp, he will enjoy his time. you made him come all this way, and he will leave with something.

he stretched your ass cheeks apart and spat a nice wod of spit onto his thumb and rubbed its way right into that other hole, it felt so tight but eren’s thumb just slipped right in, hooking into you as he stretched his fingers around the suppleness of your ass and the fullness of your hips. and when you pulled your hips away, scared cause you didn’t know how long you could go with eren digging into you making you damn near pass out.

he’s rolling his eyes in annoyance, blowing a strand of hair out his face, and tracing his hands down your back.

“you don’t wanna cum on my dick? you’re hurting my feelings, baby…”

his voice rang like church bells in a desolate ghost town left for caravans and wonderers to salvage. the baritone octave and slew of words spilling out of his throat as if he just learned them; literring complete nonsense into your ear.

then the most heart achingly, sweet pout form on his face. he’s forcing your back into a deep, pretty arch, your back rolls stretch and squish back as your body conforms and relaxes. then his fingers slot themselves into the space between your hips and stomach, bringing your ass back, thrusting his dick in between your ass cheeks before he stuffs your cunt full, again.

hitting just right against the spot that hides deep in the back towards, up at the top, you scream, and end up cumming on his dick. “yeah, i’ll go slow, ma. jus-just keep cumming on this dick. i know when you’re lying, talking ‘bout some—too hard.” you gasp out, whining as eren’s soft groans of mockery send shivers through your body, making you cum even harder, trembling as your orgasm hits harder the slower his strokes become, your little fingers ball up the sheets.

your pussy hugs him, it keeps his dick nice and warm, so soft and inviting that small spurts of cum shoot right out of his tip. hips stuttering as your pussy squeezes and squeezes to milk his cock. sucking tighter at the tip, the farther he digs in then winding down as your poor hips bucked along his length. you can’t manage a single word, you’re droolin’ and winding your hips. making it clap, bouncing your ass back, “like that mamas, bounce it on my dick, good girl.”

and here you were listening. feeling delighted from the addiction. when you think you’ve managed to get over him, you’re running back. taking his nonsense, and his dick like a packaged deal. when you’re telling him how shitty of a boyfriend he was… though you tend to do it during inopportune times. your favorite time being when he’s got all eight inches of his dick in you.

eren knows you all too well, because he’s the one who was on the receiving end of all those phone calls you’d make when your boyfriend fucked up. maybe you should’ve stayed with him, oddly it seemed like he wasn’t fully lying when he said you’d always come back to him.

the way he treated you throughout your entire relationship, meaning nothing — tossed to the firey flames of an incenerator. lighting a quick flame that distinguishes with the flip of a switch; your heart. it could also be your brain, but these days differentiating them seemed highly inattainable.

there was rarely peace of mind.

so you’re stuck coming back for a bed to lay on, and a dick to fuck. he’s just a shitty, asshole… narcissist? that’s what it is. and you blame yourself for parading along such witty ego. it was a complete drag, ripping you up and tying you by your ankles. the fucking worst.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Confident in Us

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x confident!fem!reader (single mom)

Summary: You're confident, you keep Tim on his toes, but he realizes that it's not enough. He learns that you have a son from a previous relationship while Angela is pressuring him to ask you out, but you beat him to it.

Warnings: misogynistic comments (not from Tim), fluff, flirting, Tim gets a little nervous around r, r's son likes Optimus Prime (bc I like Transformers)

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“C’mon, babe, wake up!” you call again, holding your phone away from your face. “Okay, sorry, Angela, how can I help you?” you ask into the microphone.

“Babe? Did someone spend the night?” Angela teases.

“You know he did. Early morning calls from you are new, though.”

“We’re infiltrating a money laundering scheme. The Metro captain said you’d be a good fit to lead the operation,” she explains.

“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Perfect! And I’d tell you to take your time getting ready, but you always look good.”

“Back atcha.”

You end the call and yell another wake-up call with more urgency. There’s a case to be worked on, and you know you can get it done. If you can get to work, that is.

“Sergeant Bradford,” you greet as you approach Angela’s desk. “Detective Lopez.”

“Morning,” Tim replies.

You smile at him before asking Angela where your temporary team is. She tells you they’re arriving shortly and meeting in the roll call room. There’s a case file spread open on her desk, and you lean beside her to look at it.

“When do you think your captain will just realize that I’d be a great permanent fixture on your team?” you ask Tim, looking up through your lashes. “I’d only distract you boys sometimes.”

“I think that’s the major concern,” Tim deadpans.

“Granted, we wouldn’t be able to work together,” you sigh.

“Why not?”

“We’d draw too much attention, Tim. Look at us.”

You smile again and Tim shakes his head. Your confidence reads as flirtation occasionally, but Tim has always been drawn to you. He’s constantly impressed by how good you are at your job, and how aware you are of what you are worth. Your strengths and weaknesses are well-known to you, and you use them to your advantage. Most importantly, you don’t let anyone walk over you. Being a woman in the police force is hard, but you make it look effortless and do it with grace.

“Why am I in charge of this?” you ask.

“You’ve worked a laundering op before, right?” Angela asks.

“I assisted in one when I was on patrol, yeah.”

“A very successful one, from what I hear. Since you’ve been on the ground for one, you were the best choice.”

You nod before you notice the Metro team enter. As you stand and move toward Tim, he wonders if you’re this confident outside of work, or if it’s something you’ve built up to maintain your sanity in a job surrounded by men.

“Think we’ll be done by eight?” you murmur.

“Why? Have a date?” he counters.

“Something like that,” you reply with a wink. “Let’s go catch some money launderers, Bradford.”

“We’ve got three Metro teams here for this op,” the Metro captain explains as you enter. “Work together or get out of my station, is that clear?”

Overlapping replies of “Yes, ma’am” mix as you lead Tim toward the front of the roll call room. A television screen shows the layout of the warehouse you will be infiltrating, but you have to explain all the minor details. Your previous success in a place like this was due to the precision of little movements, and this will be no different.

“So, what’s the plan?” a man in the front row asks.

You nod toward him and say, “Our goal is-“

“I was asking Sergeant Bradford,” he interjects.

You smile at him as you explain, “I’m in charge of this operation, so I can answer any questions you have. Our goal is to infiltrate the operation without breaching. Once inside, we can better understand the operation. Then, three different teams will breach from the locations marked on the map.”

“‘Scuse me,” someone calls from the back.

“Yes?”

“Why leave the front side open during the breach?”

“Excellent question. This unit backs up to a storefront on the opposite side. Patrol units will evacuate that store before the raid, so there will be no exfil points nor civilian interaction.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem. You have your team assignments, and we will ensure each team is in location before the infiltration. In the case of anyone exiting the building before the breach begins, immobilize and detain as quickly and quietly as possible. Are there any other questions?”

Everyone shakes their head, and you hear the first man who cut you off mutter something under his breath.

“One more thing,” their captain adds. “If any one of you have decided to feel misogynistic today, get out now. I will not tolerate you rejecting orders for any reason. One more disrespectful comment toward another officer will get you benched. Indefinitely. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the men call together.

As they leave, she apologizes to you, but you brush off her concerns with a smile. You’re used to it, and she is too.

“Thank you for letting me join this operation,” you tell her.

“Of course. I hear you and Bradford are the best,” she replies. “Prove ‘em right.”

You nod before following Tim out. There’s a bit of time until you have to change and prepare to infiltrate, and you have paperwork to do until then.

“Good work in there,” Tim says.

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls, Bradford,” you joke. “See you in a bit.”

He watches you walk toward your desk. When Angela slaps his arm, though, he turns away quickly with wide eyes.

“What was that for?” he demands.

“Are you going to ask her out or not?” she sighs.

“Not.”

“Why not?”

“Um, I don’t have a death wish,” Tim says dramatically. “She does not like being hit on, you know that.”

“No, she doesn’t like being objectified. You asking her out – genuinely being interested in her – would get an entirely different response.”

Tim rolls his eyes and notices a man walking toward you. He lays a hand on Angela’s shoulder and turns her toward you.

“Hey, baby, you need someone to escort you home tonight?” the man asks, though his eyes are nowhere near your face. “No need to go home without a man one more time, right?”

“The only boy I’ll be taking home tonight is my son, so no thank you,” you reply easily.

“Son?” Tim whispers.

“You didn’t know?” Angela asks.

“No, I… Look, Lopez, the point is I don’t need her to stop talking to me because I asked her out.”

“Then don’t ask her out like that.”

“She doesn’t want anything!” Tim exclaims. “Drop it.”

You look up when his voice raises, and your brows furrow when you see him talking to Angela. They wave, and you shake your head in amusement before returning your attention to your paperwork.

“I didn’t even know she had a son,” Tim adds quietly. “She keeps me on my toes at work, and that’s enough.”

“Sure,” Angela agrees. “But what about when it’s not enough anymore?”

“So…” Tim begins as you walk down a street to reach the target location.

“Put your arm around me,” you say suddenly.

Tim doesn’t question your request as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. His eyes are on your face, and you smile as you look up at him.

“It’s busier than I thought it’d be,” you murmur. “Don’t need to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

“Not a problem. We’re going to a place that doesn’t exist anyway,” Tim replies.

“You seem… off. Are you okay to do this?” you check.

“Yeah, I’m good. Angela just pried into my personal life again. Made me question things, for some reason.”

You chuckle and shake your head against Tim’s forearm. “Trust me, I know that situation all too well. She’s been trying to get me to start dating since my son got old enough to be left with a babysitter.”

Tim hums and you realize he may not have known as much about your personal life as Angela. You don’t talk about your home life much at work for a couple of reasons, but the biggest is your concern about the comments you’d get. Being a cop is hard enough, but a cop who is a single mother is much different. The things that the men you work with would say require a level of patience that you don’t have, and your confidence can’t conceal that.

“We’re here,” Tim alerts as you reach the entrance.

He removes his arm from your shoulders and opts to take your hand as he opens the door and leads you inside. The false front, Coo-Coo Cash Checking, is tiny, though you suppose they need as much room as possible for their backdoor counterfeiting business.

“Welcome, folks,” a man says as he steps to the desk. “What can I help you with?”

“My girlfriend and I are looking to buy a house but can’t get approved for the loan we need. A friend of mine told me you, or your boss, Malcolm Dmitri, could help,” Tim explains.

The man nods at the mention of the code word and steps back. “Sure, we can. Mr. Dmitri is in a meeting right now but should be done in about five minutes. Mind waiting?”

“That’s perfect,” Tim replies. “Thank you, sir.”

The door closes behind him and you turn toward Tim.

“Something feels off,” you murmur.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

He looks around, but there isn’t much to see in the five-foot-deep entryway where you stand. You rise to your tiptoes and look over the desk, but there’s nothing back there, either.

“They’re going to do something unexpected,” you say. “Let’s just roll with it.”

“Within reason,” Tim argues.

“What if my reason is different than yours?” you ask, leaning against him and smiling.

“Then I’ll pull rank,” he answers, sounding breathless.

“And here I thought we were friends.”

You pout, and Tim looks away quickly. Just as you stand and prepare to apologize for going too far, the door opens again.

“Mr. Dmitri can see you now. The problem is his office is small, so it’ll have to be one at a time. He’ll see you first, Miss…” he trails off, waiting for your name.

“Walton,” you answer, making up a name quickly.

Tim squeezes your hand, but you run your finger over his palm as you step forward. He registers your signal but doesn’t like what you’re about to do.

“I’ll be right back, honey,” you promise as you walk through the door.

Tim leans back against the wall as he waits for your signal to breach. He will rush inside the moment he hears it. Not a moment before, though, because he knows you and you know what you’re doing.

As you and Tim walk out of the front door after a successful raid, you pull his hand into yours again.

“Ask me what you wanted to ask before,” you say softly. “I don’t keep my personal life a secret from you on purpose, it’s just that some of the guys at work… I know how they’d treat me if they knew I had a kid.”

“I get it,” Tim replies. “You said you’re a single mom. I guess I’m just surprised anyone would leave you.”

“I left him,” you admit. “I know what I’m worth and that didn’t always sit well with him. I wouldn’t change a thing, though, because I got an amazing son out of the deal.”

“What were you thinking?” one of the Metro officers demands as you near the rendezvous point. “Going in there alone was stupid!”

“I had the situation under control,” you reply calmly.

Tim drops your hand and levels his gaze on the man before you. He’s too close to you, but Tim won’t step in unless he has to. You can handle yourself, he knows that, but it doesn’t keep him from getting angry with people who talk down to you.

“Clearly! They could’ve taken you in a second!” he replies. “How do you deal with her, Bradford? You just let her waltz into a death trap.”

“She is good at what she does,” Tim answers. “And you would do well to treat her like the cop she is and not my assistant. This is her operation, so stop questioning her decisions.”

“Oh, she’s got you on a tight leash, Bradford.”

“That’s enough,” you interrupt, your friendly smile long gone. “I know what I am doing, and since you clearly have no trust in me as a member of your team, you can go.”

“That’s not your call, girlie.”

Tim steps forward, but his Metro captain approaches before he can say anything.

“She dismissed you, officer. That means go. Now.”

The officer rolls his eyes and stomps as he pushes against your shoulder to get past. You shake your head before you ask if all of the suspects are in custody.

“Every one of them,” the captain answers. “Excellent work in there.” “I appreciate that,” you reply. “Sergeant Bradford was a great asset in there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Reviews are coming up soon.”

She winks at Tim before she pats your shoulder and returns to the mobile command unit. You exhale and roll your shoulders back to stand straighter.

“I’m sorry,” Tim offers.

“I don’t let it affect me anymore. My confidence threatens their insecurity, so they try to knock me down. I’ve gotten very good at standing my ground. But I meant what I said, you were great in there; couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I wasn’t even with you,” Tim argues.

“Yes, you were. I knew that you’d be there the moment I signaled. That’s why I was okay going a few steps further alone because you had my six.”

“Always.”

“There is one thing I’d like to ask you to do, though,” you begin. Tim nods, and you request, “Whatever Angela wanted you to do, go do it. She looks out for our best, even when it just feels like pointless meddling.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure, you can.”

“No, I really-“

“Tim,” you groan, leaning back.

“She wants me to ask you out,” Tim blurts out.

You stand up to look at him, and he simply shrugs. Though you suspect why he doesn’t want to do it, based on how you usually respond to being hit on at work, you know that you would say yes before he even finished.

“I have a kid,” you remind him quietly.

“So?” Tim asks, furrowing his brows.

“That’s a non-starter for most guys.”

“Most guys are idiots, then.”

You smile as you agree. “But you’re not. So, what are you going to do?”

Tim shakes his head, so you sigh and do something for both of you.

“Tim Bradford, will you go out with me?” you ask.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m asking you out. Now, my son may have to crash the date because my sitter is supposed to leave early tomorrow, but he’s a good kid. Most of the time.”

“Okay,” Tim says. “Yeah, let’s go out.”

“See, that wasn’t so scary,” you tease. You lean toward him to whisper, “And I promise that I’m not just using you to be a good influence in my son’s life. He has all the father figure he needs in Optimus Prime.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Tim asks quietly.

“Which part?”

“The-“

You cut Tim off with a kiss on the cheek, and when your hands hit his shoulders to steady yourself, he knows that Angela was right. She can never know that, though, and it was a one-time thing. Tim pulls you into a hug before you can pull back.

“Thank you for defending me,” you tell him.

“You didn’t need it,” he counters.

“Yet you did it anyway. That makes it even better, Tim.”

“Thanks for asking me out.”

“Now that we did need. I can get another sitter so we can go on a real date.”

“No, bring your son. He’s important to you, so he needs to be a part of this. If he doesn’t like me, we go back to being work friends.”

“And if he does?”

“Then I guess I have to fight Optimus Prime.”

“Mm,” you hum, pretending to think. “I think you could take him with a little help from me.”

“A sentient robot who turns into a semi versus two human cops? You’re more confident than I thought.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, I don’t.”

You step away from Tim and smile. “Then it’s a date. Am I in charge of this operation or are you?”

“Well, you did this one so well… I’ll handle the date; you just look perfect as always.”

You gasp and point at Tim as you walk backward toward your car. “You can flirt!”

“I learned from the best,” he replies playfully. “See you tomorrow.”

“Twice!” you remind him. “And, Tim, don’t bother to brush up on your fighting skills. You’re better than Optimus, every day of the week. He’s going to adore you.”

I hope so because I adore his mom, Tim thinks. Maybe more than adore.

[the-hopeless-haze]

Let’s Spend the Night Together

Chapter 3 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed on Me

Greg House x Reader

Word count: 6.5k ??? what did I do

NSFW - smut

“Where does she live?” Greg asks James.

“If I tell you, am I assisting you in a crime?” James asks in response, barely looking up from his desk.

“I’m sure she told you about our date later.”

James huffs in frustration, finally looking up at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“Did you like her? Is that it?” Greg questions, trying to get to the bottom of his friend’s snarky behavior. Not that this wasn’t the usual from him. It was one of the things Greg loved about him, that he was always a little fed up with him, always preemptively aggravated, always in a state of annoyance. It was harder to piss someone off that was always a little pissed with him at baseline.

“Is that what you think? Because if that’s the reason you’re taking her out… you’re more fucked than I thought.”

“The correct answer would have been, ‘no, Greg, I do not want to sleep with her because I am married’ but we’ll go with that.”

James sighs, looking up at him. “Yes. She’s very attractive. But no, I had no intention of entertaining her.”

“Then what’s your issue?”

“Because I don’t know why you’re doing this. You sick of your prostitutes?”

Greg scoffs. “This isn’t about sex.”

“It’s not? I’m mistaken then, because you were flirting with her, made comments about her body, called her to your office…”

“Okay,” he corrects. “It’s not just about sex.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to date her without saying the words? Because if so… congratulations.”

“No. I want to figure her out.”

“Just look in her chart. Save both of you the trouble.”

“It’s no fun if I learn all the answers at once.”

“Do you ever wonder why you’re single?” James asks.

“Do you ever wonder why you’re unhappily married?” Greg counters. “And. About that. Either her psychiatry training gave her some leg-up here or you tipped her off. She went through her files already. All that she left was a med list.”

“You already looked?” James asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. No birth control. Wonder what that’s about? Propranolol. Maybe some blood pressure issue… she’s young for that and that’s not first line. Idiopathic tachycardia? Maybe. Anxiety?”

“She can’t have an interesting med list. Stop looking for zebras. She’s barely thirty.”

“No birth control and barely thirty? Either she’s not getting any or she’s tied her tubes already.”

“Or… if she does have a blood pressure issue she can’t be on it. Or she has an IUD. Actually… don’t drag me into this.”

“Lamotrigine. Seizures. Bipolar disorder. What’s more likely?”

“lamotrigine isn’t the first-line med for either. Maybe you’ll have to talk to her.”

Greg rolls his eyes. “No fun. Hey… she’s on Vicodin.”

“A match made in hell,” Wilson grumbles, running his hands over his face.

“Well. She was. Eight years ago.”

“Most people don’t stay on it indefinitely.”

“Why would she leave that on there? It’s just these three meds.”

“Don’t you have an actual patient?”

He shrugs. “I need her address. I’m picking her up in three hours.”

“At least buy her dinner. Do not just bring her to your apartment.”

“I can’t learn anything if I just have sex with her. I mean, I’ll definitely learn some things, but…”

“Well, I don’t have her address.”

“You’ve got to have her address. You hired her.”

“Nope. I’m not her direct supervisor since she’s a consult. You’d have to talk to the head of psychiatry or Cuddy. And no. I’m not losing my job searching for it.”

“She took it out of her medical records,” he says, shaking his head, but he’s smiling. “I guess she likes to play.”

——————

“So let me get this straight. You want me to risk the safety of one of my employees so you can drive by her apartment?”

Greg looks at Cuddy for a moment, as if he’s  actually thinking about her summary of his request and he nods. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

Sighing, she says, “I shouldn’t be shocked you live the rest of your life like you practice medicine, but I don’t care about the results here. The answer is no, House.”

“It’ll be worth your while.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because… if I get laid I’m in a better mood which means I’m less likely to cause you issues.”

“Right. Hm. Surprising, but that didn’t persuade me.”

“Have you met her?”

“Is that supposed to convince me?” she asks, looking up at him for a second.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. She does work in psychiatry. For someone who constantly loves to tell me I have a drug problem and there’s something wrong with me I’d think you’d want to make sure this relationship runs smoothly.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “I feel like you and I both know you’re not doing this for the emotional healing.”

“I won’t be doing anything if no one gives me her address,” he grumbles. He doesn’t tell her but for once he can’t believe how stupid he was that he fell for that, that he thought you might be interested.

“Hm. Well. I’m busy, House.”

He walks out without a word, heading back to his office. It’s 7:00.

Well. Alone again. Not much different than the last night or the night before that.

And he knows he could have Cameron. She’s been not so subtle in trying to get his attention, and yes, he certainly didn’t help matters by telling her she’s beautiful. Sure. But she isn’t… she’s not what he wants. He doesn’t need someone to take him on like a charity case.

You… you were fucking with him. And it’s fair, maybe he even deserves it. Maybe you got off on this, being a Walmart version of a femme-fatale, wounding men’s egos, seeing which ones would chase you and which ones would give up after a little pain.

Doesn’t really ease the sting of the ache of rejection, though. That you’d brush him off that easy, leave him without an avenue to reach you.

Sighing, he turns on the TV, trying and failing to focus on the screen, but you’d taken over his mind like a case he was on the brink of solving and just couldn’t get there.

8:15. He gets a page from your number. “YOURE LATE”. It reads.

Well. Screw that. He still had a way to reach you after all.

Possibly.

Smiling to himself, he calls down to the psych ward, asking for you. You’re not there, they say, but they’ll be happy to transfer him to your extension if you’re still in the building.

“I thought hookers took pride in their punctuality,” you say when you answer the phone.

“You’re kind of a bitch, huh?” He asks, trying not to let his chuckle be so audible in the receiver.

“You keep Wilson around. You love bitches.”

“Funny. Would’ve thought you’d been swooning, begging him to leave his wife by now.”

“I’m not so easily charmed.”

“Those big brown eyes don’t do it for you?”

“Sounds like they do it for you. Something you want to tell me, Gregory?”

“Don’t ever call me that,” he sighs.

“Not going to deny the gay allegations but you’ll draw the line at me calling you by your first name? What gives, House?”

“You can call me Greg.”

“Wow, could I? What an honor that we’re on first name basis.”

“Not many get the privilege.”

“Still haven’t denied the gay allegation.”

“Don’t really see the point. You’ll believe what you believe regardless.”

“Wow. Truly. A disaster of a man in all other regards but you’re comfortable in your sexuality? Greg is 1 for 0.”

“I have one male best friend and I’ve been single for five years. I embrace the gay jokes at this point.”

“Five years?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while for you too, huh?”

“What makes you so sure?”

“No reason,” he lies.

“Right.”

“You’re single now.”

“Moved here less than a year ago. Haven’t really had the chance to meet people.”

“Okay. What hellhole did you crawl out of to willingly move to Jersey?”

“Maybe I just like Frank Sinatra.”

“He’s dead. You didn’t come here for something. You left something and you came here to make sure whatever it was didn’t follow you.”

“Is this really the date you had in mind?” you ask.

“Nice deflection.”

“I just moved. No story there.”

“Also. Almost a year? And no one’s asked you out?”

“I can say no, you know.”

“You didn’t say no to me.”

“Maybe I should’ve.”

“Cold. Come down here. I’ll walk you out to my car.”

————-

“Ah. The bitch arrives,” he says, looking you up and down again, not hiding his checking you out. You’d changed, red blouse with a leather jacket and most likely the same black slacks you were wearing earlier. “Not quite slutty enough.”

“Could say the same for you. Where’s the assless chaps?”

“I could never pull that off,” he says. “You could, though.”

He’d changed, too, a button down with slacks for once instead of jeans... at Wilson’s nagging of course.

“Here,” he says, handing you a bouquet of flowers he thought for a second were going to wilt away at his desk.

“Flowers? don’t tell me you went all out. Maybe you’re not as much of a disaster as I thought.”

“I shouldn’t give them to you since you stood me, a cripple, up.”

“Stood you up? You didn’t come get me.”

“You never told me where to get you. Ergo… you stood me up.”

“You were supposed to figure it out.”

“Yeah. Right. Wilson didn’t know and Cuddy wouldn’t put out. And you knew I wouldn’t figure it out. That’s why you stayed here.”

“You actually asked Cuddy?”

“What? I’ve asked her for much worse.”

You shake your head, smiling. “Falling head over heels for me already, Greg?”

“Puzzles are no fun if you can’t figure out the answer.” He doesn’t say that the unsolved cases haunt him, nag him and he sees them where they’re not.

One day he knows you’ll haunt him, too. One day, when you leave, when he pushes this until it breaks.

“Mm. Try harder then,” you say.

“You gave me an unsolvable puzzle.”

“Mm. Not really. You gave it to yourself. You said you were picking me up at my place. I stayed here and gave you the easy way out.”

“You could’ve left it—“ he cuts himself off, lest he incriminate himself.

“Left it where, Greg?” you ask, bemused.

“Nowhere.”

“Right,” you laugh. “So what opiate do you pop constantly?”

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“Funny.”

“Why would that be funny, Greg?”

“Let me sleep with you first.”

“Absolutely not,” you say, grinning at him.

“Well, I shouldn’t have thought you’d be easy if you’ve put me through hell just to take you out,” he sighs.

“Don’t think I’ll leave you completely wanting, though,” you say, reaching out to touch his face, his stubble scratching your hand pleasantly, a shiver running down your spine. You run your thumb over his bottom lip gently.

Tentatively, he reaches out for you, too, copying your movements, hand on your cheek, thumb over your lips, but then your tongue darts out to run over the pad of his thumb and he thinks he might die right there. “Dirty girl,” he chuckles, smirking.

“Mm. You’re pretty, Greg,” you say, with enough sincerity he almost believes you’re not bullshitting him.

“Pretty? That’s a first.”

“Like no one’s ever told you.”

“Maybe ten years ago.”

“Mm. It’s those eyes,” you say, stepping a little closer to him, letting your breath mingle with his, snaking your hand around the back of his neck. Your lips almost touch, once, twice, wordlessly. “You gonna kiss me or not, Greg?”

You expect him to be rougher but he’s soft, testing the waters, lips still barely touching yours until he gives in, gives you what you want, kisses you like he means it. God, it’s been too long, and you missed it, the thrill of kissing somebody new, and you can feel his anticipation, electricity from your skin to his.

“Come on,” he says, breaking away from you after a few minutes. “I said I’d take you to dinner.”

———

“So what is it? Percs?” you ask once you’ve been seated and get waters. It’s a nice place he chose, somewhere a little out of the way, mostly serving Italian fare and seafood. It’s where men who haven’t been on a date in a while would choose to bring a woman, you figure.

“Percs? You do some time on the street?” he asks.

“So what if I did?” you counter.

He shakes his head. “Not your story. I’m not buying that.”

“Fine. Used to work at an addiction treatment facility when I was a nurse. Everyone calls them percs, though. Not exactly some down low street name.”

“It’s Vicodin.”

“Nasty drug,” you say.

“Really? I think they’re yummy.”

“You would.”

“What’s your personal aversion to them? They take you on a bad date?”

“Got them prescribed after a motorcycle accident. Didn’t agree with me.”

“Hm. You driving?”

“No.”

“What’d you break?”

“My leg.”

“Which one?”

“Right femur.”

Wilson was going to have a field day. Match made in hell, alright. Wilson’s personal hell, that is.

“Femurs are hard to break.”

“When your partner is drunk and doesn’t care about anything it’s not that hard,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Lucky I didn’t die. I mean, not that I cared so much then.”

“Partner? What were you, 19?”

“22,” you say, silently cursing yourself for not just saying boyfriend.

“Did they not make it?”

You look at him questioningly but don’t say anything about his use of the gender neutral. You don’t want to have that conversation tonight. “No. Life support for a couple weeks until they pulled it.”

“Hm. So that wasn’t the reason you left.”

“No. There was no reason. I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Right,” he says. “Jersey isn’t usually the place people pick for a change of scenery.”

“How’d you end up here, then?”

“There was a job opening,” he answers.

“You were running away from something, too.”

“No, I was running to something. I needed a place to hire me and Cuddy was the only one insane enough to take me on at that point.”

“You’ve always been discourteous and unprofessional?”

“Those are my middle names,” he snarks.

There’s a natural break in the conversation as the waiter comes back to take orders. Greg takes notice of what you order, a baked scrod, certainly not the least expensive thing you could have ordered but not the most, either. It’s an assessment of how you value yourself, he thinks. Average. Average is boring.

Or you could just like scrod, he supposes.

“Why are you single?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Life was busy. Didn’t have time for relationships,” you say, shrugging. “Why are you?”

“Myriad of reasons.”

“Give me one.”

“My leg,” he responds indignantly.

“What happened to it?” you ask.”

“That’s a second date conversation.”

"You're in pain."

"How'd you know?" He asks sarcastically.

"Was it the cane? The Vicodin?"

'I think it was your charming personality.

Anyway. If you're going to cite your leg as a reason you're single, I'd love to know why."

"I was with someone when it happened. It's a long story."

"We've got nothing but time,” you say.

"You really won't sleep with me if I don't tell you?" House asks.

"Nope. Keep pushing me and I never will.

Tell me."

House sighs dramatically. "I had an infarction in my thigh muscle. No one knew what it was, I diagnosed it, but... so much of the muscle was dead already. I didn't want an amputation, I wanted a bypass. I didn't care about the pain. I just wanted to be able to use my leg. I asked them to put me under sedation to cope with the pain at the time... and the woman I was with decided it would be a good idea to remove the dead muscle completely."

"You made her your medical proxy?”

"Mm. Stupid decision on my part,” he says.

"Any medical background?"

"Nope."

"Then yes. Stupid decision,” you agree.

"I'm sure you've made plenty of stupid decisions. Getting on that motorcycle, for one,” he says, adding a jab at the end so to help heal his wounded ego a little.

"We all make mistakes. It's human. So... what's the reason now? You resent people who can walk without pain so you don't get close to anybody? It interferes with sex? You feel like no woman would want to deal with it long term?"

House sighs and rolls his eyes. "Do you really think it interferes with sex? Is that what you're worried about?"

"No. I'm asking if that's what you-"

"No. You see me as a potential sexual partner, correct?"

"I never said that."

"We're going with it. You ask me as if you're posing the question to me... but you're projecting."

"And you're deflecting. I asked you three questions and you didn't answer one" you point out.

"No. It doesn't interfere with sex, at least not to the point where you have to worry if I

can get you off or not. Whenever you decide to spread your legs for me... you'll see."

You feel your cheeks redden a little and cough. "I asked you two other questions."

"They weren't what you were getting at."

"Entertain me."

"No. It's not that I resent people. Am I jealous? Sometimes. I'd love to know what it's like to wake up in the morning without pain. But I'm not going to wake up every morning wanting to kill my partner because she jogs every morning and I can't."

"Is it because you've been able to accept it?

Was it an issue with your girlfriend at the time, coming to terms with it?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes."

Greg shrugs. “Not hard to put that together. I bet I could get a psychiatric nursing degree too.”

"Third question? You feel like no woman would want to deal with it?"

"Mm. Or she'd want to deal with it for the wrong reasons, take me on like I'm a charity case. That's unattractive for an abundance of reasons. You could go that way, I think, or you used to."

"You think I'm taking you on as a charity case? You pursued me.”

"You agreed. You didn't think for a second,

'well, he's a cripple, I'd better at least give him a shot'?"

"Your leg is not the reason I am here," you say firmly.

"What is it then, my deep blue eyes? This big, thick cane? My ray of sunshine personality?"

You chuckle. "It's your drive. You barely knew me, decided I was interesting and pursued me without abandon. That is attractive."

"You're not curious as to why you?"

"Little tits and ass, as Keith Richards would say?" You ask. "I'm used to being objectified. Pretty privilege is a thing. I'm sure you have noticed that yourself. If there's something deeper, enlighten me."

"Well, you are attractive, there's no doubting that. But I intend to find out why you're in the medical field, and psychiatry at that. It's like Cameron, on my team. You're gorgeous enough to have become an actress, marry a millionaire. Something happened to you to make you choose this."

"Did you take Cameron out until you figured what her deal was?"

"No. Cameron pities me. I have no interest in her that way."

"Well. Why do you assume brilliant minds reside only in unattractive faces? Why do you assume I worked my ass off to get here because of some past trauma when this could have just been a goal of mine like it could've been if I wasn't as hot as you think l am?”

"Okay. Then why did you choose psychiatry?"

"That's a second date conversation." You quip.

He smiles wryly at you. "You coaxed my issue out of me. Come on."

“I hold fast to my principles. You're weak,” you say, grinning back. “Why are you a doctor, then, hm?”

“I’m not a beautiful woman.”

“Right…” you say. “Chase is pretty. Foreman is too, you know. Either of them could’ve done something easier.”

“Chase is trying desperately to fill his father’s shoes. His father was a doctor, and well, you know how that story goes. And Foreman is an overcoming adversity case. He could’ve been a hood rat. He was on that path.”

“You know… women just started to be able to open credit cards in 1971. Maybe I don’t want to have to rely on a man to make a living.”

“No. Believe me, I get that. My point was there’s easier ways to make money. You chose the hard way,” he says. “And unpopular way. People become doctors and they fantasize about cutting people open and diagnosing infections, not getting hit and restraining children.”

“Your hypothesis is stupid. Maybe I don’t want to be an actor or model… or an infectious disease specialist,” you say. “And I think we’re all damaged. All of us. No one gets out unscathed.”

“No one just chooses psychiatry because it’s such a good time.”

“They do when it can make them ridiculous money without as many hardships as medical school. I could be using my degree to write suboxone scripts and make more than I’m making right now. I know a lot of people who went back for that.”

“Proving my point. Why are you doing things the hard way?”

“You take on the most difficult cases across the country, cases no one else can solve. You’re doing things the hard way, too. Why? Because the easy way is boring.”

Greg smiles at that. “Fair enough.”

“Yeah. Fair enough.”

—————

You don’t quite know how you got here. Or well, you do. Greg asked you to come back to his place for drinks, and you agreed, and you should’ve known better but it’s been years and you can’t really care too much when his warm body is underneath you, his tongue down your throat, his hands everywhere he can reach.

“How bad are you hurting?” you ask him, breathlessly.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he whispers back, reaching a hand back to touch your chin. “What do you want to come of tonight?”

“Let’s just see where this leads us,” you say, leaning back to kiss him again.

But he stops you, gentle pressure on your jaw to prevent you from closing the space between your lips. “I need to know what you want.”

You sigh, pressing your elbow in his chest as leverage to lift yourself off him, and you sit next to his feet on the other side of the couch. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I don’t want this to head somewhere we can’t get back from. Move over,” he says, and winces, moving his legs back over to sit beside you again.

“It wasn’t sexual trauma,” you huff, aggravated. “You can say I’m damaged all you want but that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like glass.”

“I tried to take your shirt off and you pushed me away but you kept kissing me. What do you want?”

“What do you want?” You ask, glaring at him.

Truth was, you were using him, maybe just like he was using you. You hadn’t had the opportunity to make quite as bad of a decision as sleeping with the man in front of you in a long time. And as bad decisions go, he wasn’t so terrible anyway. You like him so far, you think he’s attractive. But you know Wilson is right, that he might drag you down to places you haven’t been in a long time.

Still.

It’s been a while since you’ve felt something. You want the hating yourself in the morning for giving yourself away so soon, you want the walk of shame as he drives you back to the hospital where you left your car, you want to revel in the fact that Greg will be telling people how you were in bed, bragging that he got you in between his sheets. You want the dopamine hit and the subsequent crash.

You spent so long getting healthy but you had to keep everyone at arm’s length to do it. It was probably the worst idea to try to get close to someone else who also isolated people and couldn’t even be healthy then.

Why didn’t he just want it to be easy? Just fuck you and be done with it, continue if it’s convenient and worth the effort. Easy is boring, sure, but sex isn’t boring even if it’s easy (if so, he wouldn’t be seeing hookers, would he?). And you know he wants to fuck you, but why he wants to make it difficult… it’s beyond your reach at this moment.

“I want… I don’t know,” he admits, because he doesn’t.

Prostitutes were one thing. Vulnerability there didn’t really matter. They were doing a job and they didn’t even take a second glance at his leg. As long as they were getting paid. If he wanted attention drawn to it, they’d kiss it red with their lipstick but because he tells them to leave it alone… they do.

Sleeping with somebody new… it’s so much harder. It’s so much easier with someone you know. Or someone you don’t have an obligation to know.

With an aim to please rather than take, he doesn’t know how he’d perform.

Looking at his face, reading the ambivalence there, it suddenly clicks. If Wilson knew the truth, if you really are the first woman since his injury, there’s a lot of insecurity in being seen.

And you know all about being seen.

It’s easy to come off with bravado and arrogance but when you’re actually in the situation, when you’re called to be vulnerable… it’s something else entirely.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” you ask quietly.

“Yes. God yes,” he affirms, nodding his head. “Don’t take tonight as an indication.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” you say, nodding.

“That doesn’t mean… that doesn’t mean I can’t help you get off.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s still sex.”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes. “If you’re in high school.”

“What do you think lesbians do?”

He raises his eyebrows, chucking a little. “Are you a lesbian?”

“You wish,” you laugh. “Say you could be the one that changed me.”

“I would. Except people don’t change.”

“Yeah. They do. They change all the time,” you counter, shrugging your shoulders. “Every day, every hour, every moment… it changes you. They’re minuscule changes, changes you don’t see immediately, but you look back a decade and then it clicks.”

“Right. Maybe. But fundamentally people don’t change. The parts change, but the whole never does.”

You want to say that he has been changed, that his leg injury changed him, that he holds so steadfast to that belief that people never change so he can convince himself he was always this miserable. Sure, you get the feeling he was fucked before, but this did change him. Made him worse. Made him push people away.

You don’t say that, though. You know deep down he knows it and doesn’t want to face it.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he asks, insecurity creeping in, and he doesn’t know why this is so difficult or why he cares at all. He could pay for what he wanted, live his hedonistic lifestyle and not have to worry if the woman in front of him wanted to fuck him or not.

You aren’t boring.

But that’s not true, anyway, that’s not why he keeps people at arms length. Routine medical cases are boring, but people aren’t. It’s why he went through all the files he could of the applicants for his team, trying to pick the combination that would interest him the most, play off each other in ways he could live vicariously through. They weren’t the most deserving, or the most academically gifted, they were the most interesting. It’s why he loves gossip, loves knowing about things that don’t concern him, always living life like it’s a spectator sport and he’s got front row seats.

It’s always the people that love to watch that hate to be seen.

“I could be convinced,” you say, in that bitchy tone he knows hes going to love to hate. You soften; though, turn to him, your hair falling a little in your face, kiss him gently on the mouth.

Greg responds in kind, deepening the kiss, his hands tangling in your hair, pulling lightly before traveling to your breasts, kneading your flesh through your shirt.

“Could you be convinced to have lesbian sex with me right now?” he asks.

You’d burst out laughing if you also weren’t so admittedly and ashamedly turned on right now. “Yeah. Sure. Think you’d have an easier time in bed though.”

“You treat me like all your girls?” he asks, a glint in his eye, and oh, there’s the being seen. You’re not a fan, either. You’re surprised he’s not being forthright about what he no doubt is putting together, but ultimately you’re thankful.

“A slut’s a slut,” you quip as he leans back in, his mouth barely touching yours and he chuckles against your skin.

“You really are a bitch.”

“Mm,” you agree, closing the distance between you again, pulling him to stand up with you, letting him lean on you as he puts weight on it again.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, without thinking, never one to apologize for his actions but never one to let his disability affect others, either.

“It’s okay, Greg,” you whisper. “I got you.”

“No, I’ll go get—“

You stop him, holding his jaw gently in your hand. “It’s okay.”

Empathy. Not sympathy.

You had been here, in a way. Femur fractures take a good six months to heal. You walked half a year in his shoes on the same medication he was on.

Now it all clicks, what James had done, keeping you two apart to bring you together, doing something by not doing anything, letting it all happen by chance. He had been patient enough to let time do most of the work, something Greg could never do, but something that ultimately worked in his favor.

It’s okay. We all need someone we can lean on. If you want it, you can lean on me.

You still lived a life without pain.

Greg hates it, hates it all, and if you had had just the slightest twinge of force, the slightest indication that you were saying it was okay just to say something he would’ve told you to get out. He hates the way it kills intimacy, makes him older, more decrepit, makes him dependent, in a way. There’s certain things he can never do, or that he’d need help to do, and it’s something a woman would leave him for.

It’s something a woman did leave him for.

He wants to hug you, but that would feel too much, too intimate, too soon, so he kisses you again instead, and then the two of you hobble on to his bedroom. It hurts. God, it hurts, aches like it always does, maybe more so—the last pill he took was at dinner, but you make it, helping him ease onto the bed and wasting no time, knowing he was insecure, wasting no time to prove you still wanted him, mouth on his, your legs straddling his good thigh, moving on to his neck, laving your tongue over his skin, biting gently, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

“Hey,” Greg says, stopping your hand’s ministrations.

“I’m only taking your shirt off,” you assure him. “I won’t go further than that.”

“Fine. Not much to see there, either,” he mutters.

“I like tits,” you blurt without thinking. Jesus Christ. You have to stop doing that.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling. “Sure you do. Good thing mine are bigger than Cuddy’s.”

“They absolutely are not.”

“You familiar with their size?”

You stop yourself just in time before you say “I wish.”

He lets you finish, helping you take his shirt off, take his undershirt off, shivering as you kiss down the length of his torso to the top of his pants. “I’ll show you mine,” you say, unbuttoning your pants and slipping them off, throwing them on the floor haphazardly. You move over so he can see the scar down the side of your leg, deep gash where they cut you open, you were a month away from a nursing license and you were in the OR, someone’s patient before you could ever be on the side you studied for.

You were lucky, they kept saying. You didn’t feel lucky at all.

Tentatively, his hand comes to touch your skin and you nod, silent agreement that he could touch. He’s gentle even though he doesn’t need to be, touching carefully, tracing the line of the scar up and down, hard keloid under his skin.

“This isn’t what you don’t want me to see,” Greg says.

“Hm?”

“Your upper body. That’s why you didn’t want me to take your shirt off.”

Oh. Yeah. That.

“I don’t care,” you lie.

“Yes, you do,” he counters immediately, looking at you knowingly. “Why are you lying?”

You sigh, pulling him back to you, kissing him hard, hoping he’ll shut up if you don’t give him the chance to speak. “Just touch me already.”

It would be so much easier if he just fucked you, fucked you over, fucked you up all within the course of a month. You get the feeling right now, as your tongue is down his throat and you’re letting out moans against his lips you try to suppress as his fingers enter you, stretch you out, reach angles you couldn’t reach by yourself, you get the feeling this is going to be for the long haul. Not that he’s necessarily going to be down on one knee, but that he’s going to drag out hurting you like he’s dragging his fingers against your walls, drawing you closer and closer to the edge but never quite bringing you there.

“You okay?” you ask him, breathless, head hazy, you just want him, want him closer than this, want him deep in you.

“Shh,” Greg whispers, almost a little irritated. “I’m busy right now.”

You can’t really focus on coming up with a retort because he starts rubbing your clit and as you tilt your head back into the pillows, he starts biting at the flesh he can now easily access, starting gentle but then applying more pressure with his teeth, smirking as you whimper.

Sweat trickles down your back and you wish this was different, but he’s naked from the waist up and you’re unclothed from the waist down, and it’s stupid, you know it’s dumb, that you’re letting this man fuck you with his fingers before you let him see you fully naked. It’s not like no one has before. It’s just a conversation you don’t want to have again.

Still. All this is making you a little too hot to be half-clothed.

Greg wonders why he let you in at all. Why he went through the trouble, bought you dinner, why he’s trying to get you off right now. Maybe it’s to fuck with James. Sure, it was originally, but now he feels like it was James who fucked with him, set him up, used predictable behaviors to create a predictable outcome. Still. If you’d been professional with him instead of giving him crassness right back, he would’ve decided to make your life a living hell instead of getting you in between his sheets. Either way, he was going to make someone miserable.

Himself, first and foremost.

Not that he can really be miserable right now. It’s not terrible being needed in this sense, he’s remembering.

You weren’t like Stacy, though, not here. You’re louder, not in a patronizing way where you exaggerate your moans to try and stroke a man’s ego, but it’s like you genuinely can’t hold yourself back. It’s hot. It’s unreserved. It’s… passionate in a way Stacy just wasn’t. She loved him, he knows that, but when things got hard and he got mean instead of fighting back she got cold and walked away.

Not that he can glean exactly how you’d be in an argument from how you act in bed, but he has a feeling you don’t let go of things easily.

And… well. Takes one to know one.

Who would give in, though?

His relationship with Stacy worked before his leg because Stacy would accommodate, she would compromise herself for him. It’s why his friendship with James works now. Sure. Both of them gave him some pushback — it’s not like they in good conscience could let him get away with all the things he wanted to do. And eventually he pushed Stacy until she broke.

You, though? You don’t seem like you shatter easily. If anything you seem like you’d harden like a scar, healing over stronger, uglier, thicker, nothing really hurting you because you’d just put more walls up. You’d fight him to the bitter end.

And you know, maybe he wants that. Someone he’s not afraid to push too far because he knows you’ll push right back the second he gets even an inch.

All he really knows is your vague med list, that you got into a motorcycle accident almost a decade ago, and that you chose to be a psychiatric provider among all other things you could have been. And yet… he feels like he can glean much more.

All he really knows in this moment is that you’re coming apart under his fingers, gripping his forearm with your hands as he drags out your orgasm, trying to get him away from your now overstimulated cunt.

“She comes in colors everywhere,” he mutters, smirking lazily at you, dragging his fingers out of you, finally, then brings them to his mouth, sucking slowly on each one.

You scoff at his comment, but just as quickly he sees the light turn green again and you straddle his left thigh, coming to kiss his mouth, hard, bare cunt against his slacks and he can’t help it, he’s thinking about you wrecking them, thinking about your wet pussy on what could’ve been his bare thigh… and he groans despite himself, in pain, yes, but also pleasure - and he’s pulling you closer by the collar of your shirt, and he begins to remember why men put themselves through what could very well be the potential torture of dating a woman.

It’s just so much better when it’s with someone you know. Or… someone you need to know everything about, need to memorize like they’re an extension of yourself.

You’re not soulmates. It’s not love. It’s not romance, like James would decree.

You won’t fix him. He sure as hell won’t fix you.

But you’ll do something to each other, alright.

[specialagentlokitty]

Carlisle Cullen x teen!reader - changes

Could you please do a Carlisle Cullen x teen wold shape-shifter gender Neutral reader. Where R has long hair like Rapunzel's and asks Carlisle to cut it short because he's their father figure. Its OK if you don't want to of course. Hope you're having a good day - @witchreporter 💜

You loved your hair, you loved the length and everything about it, except with being a werewolf that’s when it got in the way.

It got in the way when you were trying to phase, it got tangled up or stuck, even if you had it tied or pinned back.

You wanted to keep it the way it was, but with being a werewolf you knew that it would never happen.

And you didn’t want to go to a hairdressers, you didn’t want some random person coming near you and attempting to cut your hair.

You had only had your hair cut a few times, trimming it to keep it healthy and off the floor.

Sitting on a bench outside the hospital you debated going on or not.

“You know you can come in.”

You jumped a little, turning to the man who had sat beside you.

“I know…”

Carlisle smiled a little bit, holding a plastic tub out to you.

“Want to come have lunch with me?”

Smiling, you nodded your head.

“Come on then, let’s find somewhere better to eat.”

You took the tub, and you trailed behind him into the hospital so he could take you through to the cafe for you to be able to eat.

You knew about Carlisle and his family of course, at first you hadn’t, you had just been exploring nearby their home when the change happened.

Thankfully, Carlisle had been around and he helped you through it.

He had told you about the reserve with all the others, but you liked learning from him and his family.

“So what brings you by? Alice called and said you hadn’t turned in to school today.”

You shrugged a little bit, nibbling at the pasta he had made for you.

“(Y/N)?” He asked gently.

You sighed a little.

“I uh… I wanted to ask you something Carlisle…”

“Of course, what is it?”

You glanced at the vampire, then turned your attention back to your lunch.

“Will you cut my hair?”

“You love your hair, why would you want to cut it? Is it because of something someone said? Because if it is you don’t have to pay them any mind, if you want long hair you can have long hair.”

“I know.. it’s not that.. I just.. it makes phasing harder you know? It always get tangled or gets in the way…”

He gave you a little smile and nodded his head.

“I understand, but are you sure about this? We can take you to a hairdressers to get it done.”

“No! It has to be you that does it please…”

Carlisle nodded once again.

“Alright, I’ll cut it for you. Can you come by this evening? We’ll make you some dinner as well.”

“Yes please thank you so much Carlisle.”

“You’re very much welcome (Y/N), now can you do something for me?”

You nodded.

“Can you go see Sheriff Swan? He’s been looking for you all morning since you hadn’t gone to school, I believe he’s at the station, if not then I’ll call him to ask him to meet you at the school.”

“Can you ask him to meet me at school?”

“Of course, just go with Alice or Emmett after school and I’ll be home around four.”

“Thank you!”

Grabbing the tub of pasta, you jumped up from the table and ran away from the hospital.

When it came to after school, you decided to go back with Emmett, you and him were in the middle of a debate of who would be faster, him or you in wolf form.

“You two are going to get lost.” Rosalie said.

“It’s fine, sniffer dog here can find their way back, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m not your sniffer dog.” You huffed.

“Wait but if you were lost could you find your way back to here?” He asked.

Everybody looked at you.

“Yes.”

“How?” Jasper asked you.

You huffed a little bit, crossing your arms.

“By scent…”

Everyone laughed.

“Esme!” You whined.

She walked into the room and you ran over to her, hiding behind her.

“(Y/N) is not a sniffer dog, stop picking on them Emmett.”

You grinned a little at the vampire who complained that you started it.

“Come on, I would love your opinion your dinner.” Esme smiled.

She guided you to the kitchen, and you sat on a stool as she explained what she was making for you.

While she was asking for your opinions on what you wanted in your food, Carlisle came home and walked into the kitchen, greeting his wife before he walked over, placing a hand on your head.

Looking at him you smiled a little.

“You ready?”

“Yeah…”

He set everything up and they all sat around you as Carlisle held a pair of scissors in his hand.

“What’ll you do with it all?” Alice asked.

“Donate to a charity so they can make wigs for cancer patients.” You said.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Rosalie smiled.

You smiled at her and took a deep breath.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay, just tell me if you want me to stop.”

Carlisle began cutting your hair, and you had to calm your emotions while he did.

When he was finished, you stood up and Jasper brought you through a mirror so you could look at yourself.

And you hardly recognised yourself, it didn’t look like you who was staring back at you.

You looked so different, and tears began to roll down your face.

“Oh sweetheart why are you crying?” Esme asked gently.

“I.. I’m so used to long hair.. I guess I.. I never thought it would be this hard…”

She hugged you, running a hand up and down your back.

“It’s alright, it can always grow back, okay?” Carlisle said.

You sniffled and turned around, hugging him tightly.

With a smile, he hugged you back.

“I know.. thank you…”

“Anything for our werewolf.” He smiled.

He stood there hugging you while Emmett and Jasper worked on clearing up the mess.

You were the teenager they had unofficially adopted, and they were like a family to you at this point so it was easier having all of them around you

[smogfromkortalmombat1]

Cooling the fire (Kuai Liang and Tomas MK1 fic)

(MK1 childhood Lin Kuei Trio - Kuai Liang and Tomas)

Summary - Kuai Liang feels like all he is is second-best. He is nothing compared to his older brother. Little toddler Tomas inadvertently shows him otherwise.

(Hurt/comfort/brotherly love/minor humour) (~3000 words)

Linked to a previous post of mine titled 'Warming the ice' (A Bi-Han and Tomas fic). Now up on my AO3 alongside that post - We are family. - Chapter 1 - Tsukuyomi_Ravioli - Mortal Kombat - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Enjoy!

.

“You’re slow, Kuai Liang.”

Kuai barely managed to jerk his body backwards, the fist that was intended to connect with his face instead grazing his cheek, a whisper of what could have been a fatal knock-out blow. “I’m having a bad day, Bi-Han.” He hissed, voice laced with irritation. He intercepted Bi-Han’s next anticipated strike with his forearm, redirecting the violent force of his brother’s fist far away from his body, “Cut me some slack, would you?”

Bi-Han’s expression remained unreadable. His body did not falter. Without hesitation, the older boy dipped low to the ground, sweeping at Kuai’s leg with ruthless precision, knocking him off balance with ease. The impact sent Kuai crashing to the ground, the air of his lungs escaping from him. He rolled himself to the side with a wheeze, narrowly avoiding another kick aimed directly for his ribs. “A bad day is no excuse for this kind of sloppiness.”

Kuai’s blood boiled. The harsh lights of the training hall, the murmurs of other students sparring nearby, the distant voices of the elders overseeing them- and above all his brother's stupid, irritating little remarks- it was too much. All too much. “This is supposed to be light training, you know!” He barked, scrambling to his feet. His hands clenched into tight fists, so tight his knuckles ached. “What is wrong with you?”

Bi-Han’s lips curled into a mocking smirk. “Did I strike a nerve, little brother?”

He was amused. He was finding this funny.

Kuai’s jaw clenched. The heat of his pyromancy simmered at his fingertips, begging to be unleashed. Words rose to his throat, eager to spill. ‘Yes’ he so desperately wanted to scream, ‘Yes, it did. Are you happy? Is this what you wanted?’

His mouth was welded shut, however, so he let his anger do the talking. He charged forwards, fists bursting into flames. His rage ignited every inch of him- his hair, his arms, even his feet. For a brief, exhilarating moment, he saw Bi-Han’s expression shift. That smirk that once sat on his perfect features was wiped clear off of his face, replaced by a flicker of surprise. Of shock. Of fear. Finally-!

“Kuai Liang!” The sharp voice of one of the elders cut through the air, freezing his body in place almost immediately. In an instant, the red-hot flames that had all but consumed him were gone, his rage smothered by an incoming ocean, one of shame and dread. His gaze immediately dropped to the floor in embarrassment. “No abilities are to be used during these sparring sessions! You know this!”

That he did. Humiliation seared his cheeks as he lowered his head further, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. He could hear Bi-Han’s derisive snort, could feel the eyes of the other students on him, their whispers burning hisses in his ears. “Sorry.” He muttered, the word bitter on his tongue.

“You are to stay behind after this session! Do I make myself clear?”

“... Yes.”

His gaze peered up slowly as the shocked murmurs died down, and the students around him continued their sparring quietly, his eyes quickly finding Bi-Han’s own. His brother tutted, looking him up and down, “You should keep… that” He gestured to Kuai Liang’s body, “in check. It shouldn’t be that easy to rile you up.”

“You’re one to talk.” He couldn’t help but bite. 

That stupid, entitled smile from before was back on Bi-Han’s lips. “This is why I’ll always be better than you, little brother. You could learn a thing or two from me.”

Bitterness and rage were sour, ugly feelings. Feelings that had no place in a warrior's heart. Least of all one who bore the honour of the Lin Kuei- the elders had drilled that lesson into him time and time again. 

Particularly today, of course. His ears were still ringing from that friendly ‘discussion’.

Despite all this, though, here he was. The Kuai Liang- the would-be warrior, son of the Grandmaster, future assassin of fire, sulking like a petulant child. Like some spoiled, entitled god-damn brat.

The training session that had ruffled him so badly had long since ended. The elders’ stern reprimands were long gone, their harsh glares fading away with the light of the day. Bi-Han was no longer taunting him, the students no longer whispering around him. Now, night cloaked the temple in peaceful silence. The hallways deserted, the courtyards outside empty and blank. But the turmoil within him refused to quit. It refused to leave him be, a constant nagging in his ear. His mind churned, a whirlwind of thoughts he just couldn’t seem to banish away. 

Why couldn’t he just let this go? Why couldn’t he just… simmer down- cool off, or something, for once in his life? Why was he so riled up? Why couldn’t he stop thinking? Why was this so hard?

‘It shouldn’t be that easy to rile you up.’

He found himself trying meditation- in an attempt to bring some form of tranquillity into his life. It was probably (most definitely) the first time ever he had done so outside of lessons, tucked away quietly behind the judgement-free, and more importantly Bi-Han-free, walls that made up his room.

Unravelling his dusty, never-before used tatami mat, he threw the poor thing onto the floor in front of him, his body quickly following not even a half-second later, hitting the ground with a soft grunt. He forced his eyes closed instantly, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees, palms-up, his fingers curling slightly into the air above. 

Right. Let’s do this. Tranquillity. Tranquillity, tranquillity, tran-quil-li-ty.

In.

He drew in an achingly slow, deliberate breath. Controlled and neat, just as he’d practised hundreds of times before. Granted, not on his own accord.

Hold.

His hands were so incredibly sweaty.

Out.

Like really, really sweaty. What the hell? Why was he sweating so much? And why just his hands? Was that normal?

In.

He was already bored. And sweaty, apparently. Bored and sweaty. Unhumanly sweaty.

Hold.

And still pissed, of course, how could he forget about that? That never left.

Out.

In fact, he was actually more pissed than before. Meditation was supposed to calm the soul, not enrage it further, yet all it seemed to do was irritate him more.

In.

He clenched his fists, his nails biting into the soft skin of his palms.

Hold- ah, screw this.

Brown eyes snapped open, his gaze unfocused as he stared down at the floor, his teeth wobbling the skin of his bottom lip. His chest tightened with frustration.

This is why I’ll always be better than you, little brother.

Bi-Han could probably do this with ease. Hell, the angelic, righteous little future-leader was probably meditating right now, all neat and tidy and perfect like he always was, while he couldn’t even last five seconds! 

A knock at his door startled him rapidly out of his thoughts, his eyes zoning back into focus as they shot towards the direction of the door. The knock was too gentle to be Bi-Han, and it was far too late for his parents or any of the elders to be checking up on him. “Enter.” He called out, his voice rough from disuse.

Slowly, the door creaked open, a small face peering cautiously around the wooden frame, big, wide, grey-silvery eyes meeting his own.

“Tomas.” He blinked, confused. “What are you doing up? It’s late.”

The toddler shuffled on his feet, still partially hiding himself behind the door. His ghostly gaze dropped to the floor below, “I couldn't sleep.” He confessed quietly, “Can I stay with you?”

“I’m not going to bed anytime soon.”

“I’ll be quiet.” Tomas whispered, tiny fingers rapping gently against the wooden door as he spoke. “Really really quiet. I promise.”

His first instinct was to tell Tomas no. To snap at him- to send him scrambling back into his room where he most definitely should have been. But one look at the toddler- at those big eyes and tousled smoky hair, the flames inside died down. Just a bit.

He let out a slow breath- one he had barely been able to do just moments before. “Come here then.” He said, softening his tone and patting his knee. “You can stay.”

If Tomas were a dog, his ears would have perked up at the sound of the open invitation, his little socked feet sliding clumsily around on the wooden floor as he quickly stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. His footsteps were light and quiet as he made his way further inside, stopping just in front of him.

Reaching forwards, Kuai scooped his little brother up, settling him down onto his lap with a gentle squeeze. Tomas squirmed slightly, getting himself comfortable before going lax with a big sigh, squishing his cheek against his brother’s chest, grey eyes peering up to meet his brown ones. “Are you meditating?”

Kuai sighed, resting his hands back on his knees, palms up, just as before. The warmth of Tomas' body against his own was grounding, a soothing contrast to the restless energy that had been coursing through him just moments before. “Trying to.”

“I didn’t think you liked meditating.” Tomas, true to his word, was ‘quiet’, not silent. Kuai should’ve expected that, he supposed. Not that he had the heart to call out the toddler on it. After all, Tomas was five. “Do you?”

He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “Not really, no.”

“Then why do it?” There were tiny fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt, holding on tight. He could feel them through the thin material. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, little one.” Kuai sighed, cracking open an eye to peer down at his brother. Tomas’ own were half-lidded with exhaustion, partially hidden behind strands of curled grey hair, “Better now that you’re here.”

As the words left his mouth, he realised how much he actually meant them. Tomas had a way of softening the world around him, cooling the tension that had built up inside Kuai like water to a flame. Tomas' eyelids fluttered, a soft, weary hum escaping his lips as his tiny body relaxed more into Kuai's warmth. He clung to his older brother like a lifeline, his small fingers tightening around the fabric of Kuai's tunic.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Tomas whispered quietly, his eyes closed.

Kuai allowed his own eyes to close, settling down into the meditative state he had tried so hard to accomplish earlier. It came with ease, this time. “Of course.”

 "I... I had a bad dream," Tomas mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Kuai's brow furrowed slightly, though his eyes remained closed. "What was it about?"

Tomas hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know.” He confessed, “There was lots of shouting, and bad men. I couldn’t find you or Bi.”

Kuai hated that he knew exactly where those dreams probably stemmed from. Tomas couldn’t have nightmares like a typical child- of monsters under the bed, or skeletons in the closet. Tomas dreams stemmed from the murder and bloodshed he had witnessed at such a tender age. This wasn’t the first one the toddler had told him about, nor would it be the last. He could only hope that more of them stayed like this- less articulate, and more blurry. For Tomas’ sake.

"You don’t have to worry about that happening, Tomas," Kuai murmured, his voice steady but soft as he lifted a hand, stroking his brother’s back gently. “You’ll always have me and Bi-Han. We’re not going anywhere.”

Tomas shifted, resting his cheek more fully against Kuai’s chest, his breathing evening out slowly. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

A small, contented hum escaped the boy. Kuai continued to hold him close, his hand lightly trailing through the pale, smoky strands of Tomas' hair, untangling the knots from what he assumed had been restless tossing and turning. The act was soothing, not just for Tomas, but for Kuai as well. In the quiet of the room, the earlier frustration and self-doubt felt far away, replaced by a simpler, purer duty: being here for his little brother. That he could do. He couldn’t fail at that like he could other things.

“I wish Bi was here too,” Tomas said after a long stretch of silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “He always makes me feel better.”

Kuai smiled faintly at that, though that familiar pang of irritation prickled at his chest. "Bi-Han can’t always be around, Tomas,” he said, keeping his tone gentle despite the thoughts churning through his mind. “But I’m here. Isn’t that good enough?”

Tomas tilted his head slightly, eyes no doubt opening just a fraction to peer up at Kuai’s face. Not that Kuai was looking himself. He couldn’t bring himself to. To see the longing and yearning that Tomas’ gaze no doubt had for their ‘perfect’ older brother. “You’re both good.” The boy said quietly after a moment, “Just different goods. But both good.”

The simplicity of the statement almost made Kuai laugh. Tomas, in his own innocent way, had summed up what Kuai had been grappling with all damn night- the differences between him and Bi-Han, and the heavy weight of always feeling like he fell short. It was a child's perspective, unburdened by the complexities of rivalry or expectation. “How so?”

“Bi is strong and scary. He makes me feel safe.” Tomas yawned, cuddling closer. “You’re warm. And funny. You make me feel happy.”

“I’m glad you think so, little one.” Kuai’s smile softened, though he couldn’t entirely shake the lingering sting of self-doubt. “But I think you like Bi more.”

Tomas’ hand slapped against his chest lightly, as if scolding him. "No. I like you, Kuai.” He pressed his cheek further against Kuai’s chest, nuzzling into him like a cat seeking more warmth. “You remind me of my mama.”

That made Kuai pause, the words sinking in slowly. He couldn’t help but open his eyes to regard the toddler nestled against him. "I do?" 

“Mmm.” Tomas nodded sleepily, his own eyes closed. He didn’t elaborate, but Kuai didn’t need him to. That one sentence spoke volumes just by itself.

Kuai’s heart ached in a different way now- a warm, tender ache. He hadn’t realised that such simple acts- acts that were, deep down, truly his, not a reflection of his want to be like his older brother, had had such a deep effect on Tomas. Had led to him being considered on par with Tomas’ mother of all people.

Maybe… Maybe he didn’t need to be perfect like Bi-Han. Not in the sense he was thinking, at least- in the sense that Tomas was showing him.

“Thank you, Tomas,” Kuai whispered, brushing a soft kiss against the top of his brother’s head. “That means a lot to me.”

Tomas didn’t respond, already drifting off into sleep, his small body fully relaxed against Kuai’s. Kuai held him there for a long, long time, simply listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing, his own heart finally finding a moment of peace in the quiet of the night alongside it.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Are you comfortable with teacher!Morticia and student!r? I’d love for reader to wear her uniform but her skirt is a little short, so it drives Morticia absolutely crazy, so at the end of class Morticia keeps reader back and orders reader to sit on her lap? (With smut also please?)

(Mistress kink please 😩☺️)

Hiii anon, thanks for the request! (: I am absolutely comfortable with that. Always could use more Morticia fics!

Behave ~Teacher!Morticia Addams xFem Student!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, age gap (all legal), spanking, degrading kink, praise kink, mistress kink, thigh riding, etc.

Enjoy (;

At first you thought it would be just an innocent little thing to do for your mistress.

That she’d find it attractive.

Maybe even reward you…

But you were ohhhhh so wrong.

Whack!

Morticia slapped your bent over behind once again.

“Fuck! Nine! Please mistress I’m sorry…!” You whimpered, as you were bent over her lap, squirming in pain and pleasure.

“My little slut should have thought about this before coming to my class asking for it.” Morticia jeered, before smacking your ass again.

Smack!

“Shit ten please please I’m sorry…!” You cried out.

“Take your punishment like a good slut. After all, you’ve been driving me crazy all day acting like one.”

Crack!

“Eleven, mistress…!!”

“You just had to wear that skirt didn’t you??”

Whack!

“Twelve Ohh GOD!”

“You just had to tease your mistress all day, hmmmmm??”

Smack!

“SHIT Thirteen!!”

“Well if you act like a slut, then your mistress will treat you like one.” Morticia purred.

Crack!

“Fourteen please…!” You cried out.

“Have you learned your lesson, slut?” She taunted.

Smack!

“Fifteen Yes God yes please Mistress I’ll be good promise I’ll be good!!” You screamed.

Then she stopped.

You looked up with teary eyes and a quivering lip.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Morticia cupped your face, “If you wanted to get fucked, next time just ask, Mon amour?”

You nodded.

“Words, slut.”

“Yes, mistress please fuck me.” You whimpered.

Morticia chuckled.

“No no, mon amour. Today, you get something else.” She purred.

As she said this, she moved your tense body to straddle her thigh.

“If you want to cum today, mon amour… your going to rut against your mistresses thigh…” Morticia purred into your ear.

You whimpered in response, looking at her.

“Go on, slut…”

Desperate for any kind of friction, you rolled your hips against her thighs with airy moans.

Your rolls turned into jerks which turned into full on rutting into Morticia’s thigh.

“That’s it. Rut against your Mistresses thigh like a bitch in heat, my little slut.”

You mewled in response, having lost your coherence.

“Please.. mistress… mmm cum…!” You mewled.

“Go ahead. Cum on mistresses thigh…”

You came with a strangled cry.

Morticia helped you down from your high.

“Good Girl…” She purred.

[seventh-district]

update #2.

they managed to work me in this afternoon and i am pleased to report that while today’s fix was only temporary and i’ve still got more work to be done tomorrow and next month, i am in Less Pain now !!!

screaming shaking crying trembling wailing sobbing throwing up punching the wall in anguish and agony and angst etc etc etc

[skjeinon]

thinking about you - anders lee

summary: when you go to highschool and then college together, being reminded you were never his first choice was something you faced a lot - something about him always brought you running back to him though. when it snows, you pour and he tries to fix that with his generosity as the boy who’s always treated you better than the rest…

warnings: not a very slow burn - but very much pent up unknown reciprocated feelings. anders lees big legs <3. slight breeding kink (wrap it before you tap it blah blah blah), best friends to lovers, lack of plot at the end (i can make a part two maybe), rather vanilla i suppose but very cute nonetheless. nickname andy is used once?? sorry NO PROOFREAD!!

laying down in bed, watching as the snow fell outside of your window, with your blankets to your shoulder, you felt the quick buzz of your phone against your backside. you never felt well when snow fell in minnesota, but your whole life it’s been something you’ve learned to deal with. you almost ignored the buzz until it began to repeat.. then came your ringtone. some old song you liked in middle school filled your ears before you rolled over to pick it up. before even looking at the name, you put the phone to your ear.

“hello?” your voice was tired as you spoke softly into the mic.

“hey y/n” as anders voice filled your ears , you blushed, embarrassed you hadn’t made an effort to talk differently.

“oh my goodness! hey andy.. what’s up?”

“mh.. nothing. i saw it was snowing in minnesota, i wanted to check up on you. i know it was pretty warm a few days ago and i know how you get.” he said, you could hear him laying back into his seat.. whether it be his couch or a chair somewhere.. you wondered where he was.

“yeah it’s .. it’s bad. i won’t even lie. i thought the snow was out of here considering it’s gotten warmer and it’s april. i need it to be normal again.” you complained, pushing your face into your pillow to let out a soft whine.

“mh.. are you working? outside of the snow i suppose.” his question felt random but you complied.

“no.. i had left over time from last year that i had to plan out at some point. i guess it was my luck to pick the week 4 months ago that it would be snowing.” you said, sitting up in your bed to talk better, pulling your knees to you chest. “why do you ask?”

“do you want to come to the island? it’s nicer here.. i can buy you a plane ticket and you can stay at my place.” his voice felt sensual when asking you the question. you tried not to let your cheeks burn.. or give any leeway to him on how you felt.

“oh.. that actually sounds really nice. are you sure?” success. you didn’t sound super shocked - at least you hoped you didn’t.

“yeah i’m sure. cmon y/n, you know you’re my girl..” he said, you could feel his cocky little smile on the other side of that phone call. the way he would smile when he’d tease you, or take good of your plate, or when he’d smile at you when he’d buy you tickets for a minnesota vs isles game.. the way he’d look at you when you’d wear his jerseys. highschool… norte dame… islanders.. it never changed.

“mmh.. okay.. when do you wanna get me a ticket ..” you said , your hand making its way to play with your own hair.

“i can get you one right now.” he said as he stood up, going to grab his laptop. “you prefer american airlines right?”

you smiled. “yeah i do.”

“when’s the earliest you can come..” he said as he sat back down, opening the device in his lap.

“tomorrow. i’ll be off work for this and next week. if you wanna have me for that long.”

“yeah why not, i haven’t seen you in a few months”

-

in the next 24 hours you had prayed that when you were at the airport by the will of god… your flight wouldnt be delayed or cancelled. thank god overnight, the snow had stopped and when you woke up, the roads were more clear then you’d expected.

the night before, you stayed on the phone with anders for hours while he bought your ticket and while you packed. you complained about dirty clothes and he responded “you can just wash your clothes here..” which embarrassed you as you put dirty clothes you knew you’d only bring because you would wear it for him.

you packed for every season, almost like trauma from the cold weather in the last 2 days even though anders reassured you it was getting warmer on the island, and as you went through TSA and was finally sat at your terminal, your foot tapped impatiently, maybe a little overwhelmingly excited for seeing anders. yeah you knew you’d see other people you knew and loved.. but you always were excited to see him.

you wouldn’t even lie, you’ve been in love with anders since you guys first became friends in highschool. the feelings came and went, but he’d always do something that made you come crawling back.even at points you were convinced he also liked you, but it just never resulted in anything like what you had ever dreamed of.

in highschool you weren’t necessarily the popular cheerleader but you weren’t an outcast by any means. you were a proud leader of the student section and that’s how you and anders had become friends. you always helped plan student pride at football games and even sometimes during spirit week. you had a football jersey for the highschool and you even sewed anders’ number onto it at one point after the two of you had met through football. - when you met, it was when you were standing on the edge of the field, he asked if you could try to catch a ball or two with him for some yearbook photos that yearbook had asked him to take, the both of you thinking it was stupid, you gave in. after this, you had both realized you were in lots of classes together, and started sitting together in those classes.. then at lunch.. then hanging out outside of school, talking on the sidelines at football games. the two of you were inseparable. his parents adored you, and always begged him to date you.. your parents did the same.

so even after all this time, you had never even been on a date with him, and now you’re sitting in the airport getting ready to board the plane to go see him after he payed for your ticket, while also offering you to stay in his own home for two weeks. you were whipped.

The plane ride wasn’t awful, a bit of turbulence though the clouds but once you neared new york and JFK, things cleared a lot. the sun was out and you smiled at the simple idea of a warm day. as the plane landed, you pulled your jacket back over your body and grabbed your bag as you got off the plane. JFK was big and honestly if it hadn’t been for Anders guiding you in the past, you’d be lost.

Getting down to the luggage pickup, you stood around, observing very hard but honestly ignoring the fact that Anders had to be around. if not here then he’d be here soon. but it didn’t cross your mind until you were picked up off your feet by a goon.

“COME HERE!” he exclaimed as he picked you up, his arms tight around your body as he lifted you up. you almost shouted before remembering it would only be him.

“Anders! put me down!!” you kicked, shaking in his arms until he sat you back down on the ground. you turned quickly to see him, a smile forming on your face at his goofy expression. you wrapped your arms around him, he did the same, pulling you close to him. Quickly inhaling, you catch the cologne laced into his clothes. he’s been wearing the same thing for years and it never gets old.

“i’m glad to see you made it here in one piece.. how was the flight?” he said as he glanced down at you watching as you pulled away to look for your luggage once again.

“it was good.. a bit of turbulence coming from minnesota but not too bad..” you stood ahead of him so when responding to him, you turned your body to see him. when speaking to him you’d observe his features.. looking at his freckles as some new one’s appeared on his cheeks every year, his dark blue eyes, his new haircut that maybe was his best one. you loved everything about him..

your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he said “is that your bag?” and pointing, you turned back around. “yes it is!” you said as you quickly went to grab it. as you pulled it off, he picked up your carry on and walked over to you, offering to take your suitcase also. you let him do so but in turn, you took your carry on from him and walked with him out to his car, which he pushed the bags into and then went to your side of the car, opening the door before finally going to his.

getting in the car, you noticed he did what he always did when driving and that was resting his right hand on the gear shift, even though he didn’t need to use it, and driving with his left. crossing your legs in the passenger seat, you leaned closer to his side of the car with your arm on the center console.. this didn’t go unnoticed by him as a small smile formed on his face.

“how’s work going?” he asked, looking over at you meeting your eyes before looking back at the road.

“it’s going. half the time im just tired and need a break. that’s why i’m glad you offered to let me come up.. i really just needed to be away from everything at home.” you sighed, your hand coming to your forehead to gently rub it. he took his free hand and moved it back, gently rubbing his finger against your arm.

“i definitely don’t understand but i wish i did.. sometimes i wish i could put myself in your shoes.” he said, you knew he cared - but sometimes he wasn’t great with his words when it came to comforting you over work. he never really understood what it was like to work a normal job, even through college. his parents paid for everything when he was busy studying and playing hockey in college. the two of you talked about stuff while driving, stuff you hadn’t talked ab the night before or just the music on the radio… small talk always turned into long deep conversations. you always loved that about him. ever since that first night the two of you went out to dinner together back in highschool.

getting to his place, you walked in, being greeted by his two dogs, smiling as they sniffed you, wagging their tails excitedly, they didn’t jump which shocked you. “i didn’t realized you trained them so well” you smiled as he walked past you with your bags in his hands.

“yeah it took a long time..” he shrugged as he walked into the spare bedroom he had assigned to you. “you’ve never been here before right?”

“i think maybe for a party when i was in new york but that’s about it..” most of your years apart, he’d been coming back to minnesota. he’d come and see you. even when you were in new york for a few playoff games, he saw you at your hotel and you guys were together everywhere except for his home.

“oh - i thought you’d been here more then that.” he felt a bit of guilt wash over him as he walked out of the room you were staying in. “uh- well cmon girl.” he said motioning for you to come into the room with him. you laughed before following after him.

“this is your room, you have a nice view. your sheets are clean and you have clean towels in your bathroom.” he pointed to the bathroom off the side of the bedroom. “but if you need anymore, they’re in the bathroom in my bedroom.” he smiled, before putting his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the room. he motioned to everything as he spoke it out ‘living room, balcony that’s really high up so he doesn’t sit out there much, the kitchen, the spare bathroom, his bedroom, his bathroom’ the sheets on his bed weren’t flattened or made, they were everywhere showing he didn’t make his bed which made you smile at the ounce of personality laced into his room.

“oh and.. there’s the washer and dryer for you..” he pointed to a little side area, where the two were tucked away off of the kitchen. you didn’t have much to say except for complimenting his home. for a small apartment.. it was large. the windows were high and so were the ceilings, lots of natural light accenting the colors of his apartment.

the tall man let you off to unpack while he took care of his dogs, taking them downstairs and outside while you put the clean clothes into the dresser he had told you to put them in and in the closet in the room. and taking all your dirty clothes and putting them in the washer. you embarrassingly made sure you knew what panties and bras were in the wash before you pushed your clothes in there, not having any interest in letting him even go near your clothes if you didn’t know what was in there.

you thought about what he was thinking about as you walked through his apartment, thinking that maybe he was thinking about you while he leaned down to pet his dog. maybe he was thinking about all your outfits you planned to wear or everything the two of you would do…

and honestly that is all that was on his mind. something that he kept secret was how much he adored you… yeah he’s been there for the last 10 years with you, but he probably loved you more then any girl he’s ever attempted to date.

everytime he’d find a girl, you’d stay out of his life as much as possible though every waking minute he thought “what will i do with y/n tonight?”, “i wonder what she’s doing”, “does she want to hangout this weekend?”. and even when he moved to the island, even when he signed for all those years with new york, he still dreamt of a reality he could have with you. but he knew you didn’t like him like that. sometimes he even wondered if you were using him but moments like today where you looked at him like you needed something more from him when he held you close in a hug, he knew that even if you didn’t love him the same way he did, that you were there for the long haul.

eventually, you were out of your airport clothes and into shorts and an islanders hoodie, trying to stay comfortable and feel clean. you sat yourself on the couch as anders walked in.

“i tried to give you as much time as possible..” he said while letting the dogs off their leash.

“you gave me plenty. thank you.” you smiled as you turned your body to view him from the couch. he walked closer to you and his hand rested on the back of the couch, leaning over you.

“i see you’ve gotten comfortable.” he smiled, bending down closer to you. “nice hoodie, you a big isles fan?” anders teased as he pulled at the soft material. he let go and stood up straight again, coming to sit down beside you.

“yeah, i have this boy i like a lot, he plays for the islanders.” you teased him back, batting your eyelashes at him.

“oh really?” he sat down, taking your legs and laying them across his lap. “tell me more about him.. he sounds fun.”

“he is. he’s tall and blonde.. he’s got nice teeth and a lot of freckles, he’s very very handsome..” you made a face, teasing him further. “so handsome” you threw your head back, swooning.

“wow! he sounds like a very lovely guy. i wish you luck” his cheeks burned a little, patting your shin with his wide palm. you noticed as the pink patched across his cheeks, making yours turn that soft shade as well. you looked away from him, sticking your hand out to gently pet one of his dogs that sat at his feet. “so um.. what do you wanna do tonight? or just.. in the next two weeks.” he cleared his throat, breaking the silence with his question.

“well.. i don’t know. you’re the one with the idea of what’s to do!” you said gently hitting his arm.

“hm.. well i have two games this week, and next week i have 2 next week.. one is an away game. so i’m sorry in advance..” he said, gently squeezing your bare leg.

“it’s okay, i kind of expected you to be gone longer then that” you cut him some slack as he thought further.

“i dunno, we should just play it by ear. but if you want something good for dinner tonight, we can go somewhere fancy or somewhere simple, what are you thinking?”

“hm.. something simple. i’ll save dressing up nice for another night.” you said leaning into the cushion, staring back to him.

a smile formed across his face, his dark blue eyes squinting as he smiled. “okay.. cool. did you happen to bring your jersey with you? if not we can always just go and buy you a new one..”

you almost blushed as you remembered how he was so willing to spoil you. so quick to give you anything you wanted. “yeah i brought it.. i wouldn’t mind a new one though.” you said pulling your legs out of his lap, bringing them to your chest.

“yeah doesn’t yours just have an A on it?”

“oh heavens no, it’s not that old. I do have an A one though.”

the conversation continued , talking about all the small things you could simply conceive into a conversation. it moved from the couch, to the kitchen, to his room and to the balcony, you both talked almost non stop until you realized the both of you were hungry. the two of you talked about where to eat dinner and as he let you go to get ready, he himself got in the shower. when you pulled on some nicer clothes, placing your perfume at your pulses, and grabbing some small things you needed, as you sat in the living room again , the smell of his body wash filled the apartment from the hot shower he took. you almost keeled over, thinking ab how nice he’s always smelled.

after he finished his shower and got dressed, he met you in the living room and grabbing his keys from the table sitting in front of you, he nodded to the door. “let’s go.” he said with a cute little smile, offering you a hand to stand you up. he pulled a jacket over his shoulders but knew he was only grabbing it to help you out when he knew you’d complain about being colder later in the night.

sometimes his personality makes it easy for you to forget he’s an athlete, ignoring that it’s professional. he does this for a living, but the way he treats you, you easily forget it. he walked with you, holding a soft conversation as the two of you rode the elevator, got in his truck and rode to dinner. dinner was in some small restaurant in one of those small towns on the island. dinner was good but the one thing you paid attention to the entire night was him. getting ice cream after and even buying a few groceries at the store with him before going home, it was all him. on the drive him, you leaned into the center console, your knees were at your chest and the moment the two of you had sang a song the two of you fondly shared memories of, your pinkies had become linked with the other. it took until the end of the drive where the two of you managed to let go, neither wanting to but both of you having to hold something going inside, there was no other choice.

you struggled to believe that you’d be able to spend these two weeks without folding and telling him but you didn’t know that he felt the entire same way.

-

as the night grew later, anders was laying on the couch doing his hockey homework, watching over old footage, almost his entire body sprawled across the couch. he had a notebook sat on his thigh, slowly scribbling stuff on it under the light of a lamp.

you had found a laundry basket and pushed your now dry clothes into it, slowly scooting it over to the living room to sit on the floor and fold your clothes. he noticed as you sat down and began to move his feet. “here, come sit-“ and he stopped once he saw you shake your head.

“no it’s okay.” you smiled to him. he nodded and gave a soft response before looking back at the footage. every now and again he’d glance down at you while it plays quietly. he watched as you bobbed your head to the music playing in your own head, listening to your quiet hums. he watched your quick movements with folding your clothes, wondering why you were moving so fast with some items of clothing. he began to observe what was in the basket instead of watching his footage like he should’ve been. you tried to ignore his eyes on you as you folded through the panties and bras you had washed that you didn’t want him to see, though with his hockey eye precision he did anyways. his face turned a soft pink as he finally realized what he was looking at - he was now back to watching hockey while you folded laundry. suddenly you were a little relieved to have the uncomfortable subject matter in your hands.

you now were the one observing him as he did his thing. you watched how he wrote messily against his thigh, trying to ignore how thick it was underneath the notepad. something about his legs was how large they were. perfect for sitting in a crowded space, inconvenient situation, for a booster in a mirror or maybe one day a sloppy hookup who knows. but as the thoughts raced through your head, creating scenarios past the ones you already experienced such as inconvenient situations.. your cheeks began to burn and suddenly your hands were conveniently back in the laundry before you finished.

“i have morning skate tomorrow.. if you wanna come” he said as he turned the tv off, breaking the room off into silence except for his voice. he began to sit up, stretching as he sat all the way up. he then leaned over, resting his elbows against his thighs to watch as you placed the folded laundry back into the basket. you stood up and stared down at him. “yeah.. sure i can go.” you said, shrugging, leaning over to pick up the basket.

“cool. you have to wake up early though.” he also stood, coming closer to you, leaning over you momentarily. “you should get some sleep then.” his hand gently rested on your arm, pushing you gently towards the bedroom you stayed in.

“so should you..” you rolled your eyes, a smile forming across his lips as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“i’m glad you’re staying with me for two weeks… get some rest.” he said as he stepped past you, making his way to his room. “goodnight.” he turned to see you and as you began walking to your own room, you turned to look at him as well. his hair was a mess over his head and it made you giggle.

“goodnight.” you nodded before gently shutting the door to your room. you could hear the dogs as they shuffled into his room to lay in the bed with him. you didn’t even want to imagine what he wore to bed but if it was anything like college, it was still nothing but boxers… he was so fit and it was almost insufferable.

-

sleeping that night was easy, you had put away all your laundry before you almost drowned yourself entirely in your sheets, cozy until the morning where he opened your door with a soft voice, coaxing you out of your sleep.

“goodmorning..” he said as he leaned into your doorway. you let out a groan, trying to ignore him before he did the same again. he did it once more before he was letting the dogs into the room, excited to see you as he walked in as well. he knew you were never the best at waking up early so he tried his best to get you out of bed without putting you in a bad mood.

“come on” he said, sitting down at your feet, gently shaking your legs. “get up, hon.” he stared up at the ceiling, listening to your voice as you complained more and more, finally pulling yourself out of the sheets. hunched over yourself you stared at him through tired eyes.

“goodmorning.” he smiled, staring down at you with his dark eyes. “do you still want to go?”

“mhm..” you nodded, letting your head fall into his arm. how hand came to the back of your head, stroking your hair before slowly getting up again.

“okay then, get up, we gotta go.”

standing in the shower, you slowly began to wake up more, still yawning every few minutes before you finished your shower, trying to move at a good pace knowing he needed to get going. you brushed your teeth and pulled some clothes on before walking out.

“here..” he said, putting a jacket over your shoulders before he grabbed his keys. you pulled his jacket around your body, smelling him within the threads. you walked behind him as the two of you walked down the hallway.

“do you want dunkin?” he said to you as you both made your way to his truck, getting in, he heard you utter a soft yes. you stared down at your phone for a bit until he called your name.

“yeah?”

“you okay?” he said, his blonde hair was curly that morning, looking barely brushed out.

“yeah i am.. i’m just sleepy.”

“mh. yeah i know how you get. i’m sorry for getting you up so early” he gave you a gentle smile and you gave it back, making his smile even brighter. bundled up in his jacket, the two of you got your dunkin and were off to the arena. todays skate was in UBS. it wasn’t public but you sat with a few of the media detailing people, knowing one or two, being able to chat while the boys practiced. it was a longer practice, coach trying to condition them after a loss. you knew anders would be a little sore later that day, causing you to think of any remedies you may have while they finished up.

as anders finished, he was at the top of the stairs at the lower level of the arena seating.

“you wanna go?” he said, a soft smile on his face, nodding to the general direction of the exit. he felt like he never stood in this perspective of the arena, causing him to be overcome with slight shock as he watched you jog up the stairs. “you seem a bit more chipper now..” his gaze met yours as you walked with him to the truck.

“yeah i’m a bit better now” you smiled. the two of you held your hands in your pockets, but you felt your body brush against his every now and again while walking. you wished with everything inside of you that you could place your hand in his.

“do you want to get breakfast now? or do something else” he said, kicking a pebble under his foot before you made it to his truck. getting in you told him sure and that’s where you went. you went somewhere he wanted, you didn’t really care . the two of you ate breakfast in perfect bliss, sitting across from each other while quietly chatting over stacks of pancakes and bacon.

the two of you decided to end the morning back at his apartment so the two of you could just end up napping.

when getting into the apartment, the two of you had taken the dogs outside, you taking one while he took the other and as you both came inside, a yawn fell over the both of you. you changed into some more comfortable clothes and as you settled into the couch, turning on the TV to play some ambiguous movie, he ended up sitting down next to you. he offered you to sit against him so you did, tucking yourself underneath his arm, laying in his chest. the two of you slowly began to lay further on the couch, sooner or later, your body on top of his while he laid there with his arms around you.

the two of you were asleep, the sun slowly coming through the windows, leaving you both sleeping for hours before one of you finally woke up. it was him..

he woke up, seeing your head against his chest. his cheeks burned as he brought his hand to play with the ends of your hair as they fell across his chest. he lifted his leg so that his thigh was pressed to yours, warming your body as you rested. he winced a little, feeling his body becoming sore, especially as he felt your weight under him but he tried to ignore it, more focusing on matching his breathing pattern to your own.

starting up at the ceiling, he felt your breathing pattern change as you began to wake up. “hi” he said softly, pulling his hand from your hair, watching as you blinked slowly at him. “hiiii” you smiled, pushing your face into his chest again, not even thinking about how you laid on top of him.

“we don’t have to get up, but can you maybe move your legs a little so i can move my leg..” his voice was gentle, and you made a soft noise of approval.

“you can move me however you want..” you said against his chest, essentially going rag doll on him.

as a man does, the words sounded foul in his head, as his hands moved to your sides, gently grabbing you and pulling you up with his body. he tried to ignore how they made him feel as he pushed his thigh between your legs, sitting you up against his frame. he let your arms fall around his chest as you settled in his lap. he found the remote and changed it over to the footage he had to continue doing over from the night before, noticing how you seemed to have fallen back asleep, sitting in his lap. as he began to watch the plays again, he whispered comments to myself.

although he thought you were asleep, when laying there, in reality you were trying to process how when you spoke… he placed you with his thigh right between your legs. you tried to ignore it, you tried to ignore the feeling growing in your body, but as his hand met the small of your back.. you almost folded. you listened to his whispers, but noticing his breath getting heavier, it made it hard to focus on anything he was doing when lacking one of your key senses.

feeling risky, as anders pushed his hand down the small of your back, his fingers pushed under the elastic of the shorts you had on.. not with any devious intention, just to entertain himself as he rubbed his hand across your back. he would do it every few times his hand would come down to your waistband. he noticed over time your breathing pattern hadn’t shifted back to how it did when you slept and simply your breaths began to get heavier as you continued on. he shifted, his thigh pressing into your core…

“anders..” your voice came out soft and quick, causing your eyes to shoot open, covering your mouth with the speed of lightning. “oh my god- i’m sorry.” your face was red as you leaned against him, trying to act like it didn’t happen all the while his face was burned up too. “i-it’s okay..” he threw his head back, trying not to even think about it but as you readjusted he could feel the way your chest heaved slightly. you tried to ease yourself back to reality as his hand was pressed against your lower half again. his hand now slowly encompassing your ass as he rubbed it up and down your backside. you knew he was doing it on purpose..

you almost felt confident in yourself to simply push yourself down into his quad again and get away with it, but you were scared to even try. you slowly moved your hips against his thigh.. very slowly. only enough so maybe he’d notice if he paid attention. with his hand on your ass, he almost noticed immediately. he didn’t try to stop you, he even moved his hand with your hips. he let it go on for a minute or two before his voice broke the silence.

his name fell from your lips. “what are you doing..” he whispered. he knew what you were doing. he spoke in a voice that just oozed with arrogance. finally .. you turned your head to look at him. when your eyes met his, he could see the ways yours were almost melting out of your head. staring, you saw the cocky smile on his face. he didn’t just want to let you do what you were doing.. he needed it.

“i know what i’m doing, but you should show me what you really want..” you spoke, almost without thinking, hoping maybe he’d try to take control over the situation. but by simply speaking that way, it proved to him that this was something both of you wanted.

Anders nodded and his hands were around your waist again as he picked you up slightly, sitting you back down on his thigh at a better angle. “this okay?”

you nodded, your hands coming to his chest, your eyes meeting his. your hand slowly pushed up his chest, making its way to the back of his neck. you leaned in closer and as your lips ghosted over his, your name quietly fell from his mouth before he pressed his lips into yours. he held you close as you kissed him. you released from the kiss, your eyes opening to see his.

“little desperate aren’t we..” his frowny smile made a smile form across your lips. you nodded and kissed him and again..

“anders..” his name fell from your lips, his hands that held your hips encouraged you to move against his thick thigh. “oh my god..” you whimpered softly, the friction between your legs left your face flushed.

“what is it?” he said , watching as you pulled your head back, your eyes meeting his. “hm tell me..” he hummed.

“it feels so good..” you whined. simply having him hold you like this gave you the satisfaction of a love struck girl. “i’ve wanted this for so long” your head tilted back, following the movements of his hands as he guided you through the roll of your hips.

his cheeks burned at your words. hearing you say it gave him butterflies, he felt stupid feeling that way. “me too” he mumbled as he watched you pleasure yourself on his thigh. he leaned forward, placing his lips against your neck as you leaned back. your soft moans grew as he kissed down your soft skin, gently nipping at it, his tongue relieving the bitten skin.

your skin burned as he kissed at it, his hands slowly moved up your hips and slowly pushed underneath your shirt, feeling up your sides before getting to your chest. “can i take off your shirt?” he asked against your skin. you made a small sound of approval and as he pulled it over your head, he couldn’t ignore the deep blue lacy bra you had on.

“did you wear this for me?” he asked, his hands gently rubbing over the lace on the cups.

“m-maybe.. everything i packed was for you..” you confessed, feeling as his large hands covered your chest, squeezing your chest before his hand came behind you, gently unclipping your bra with one hand while the other moved to the small of your back, helping you hold your rhythm as you ground against his thigh. as he pulled the bra from your frame, he almost drooled at the sight of your bare frame.

“you wanna take those shorts off, baby?” he spoke, placing his face between your neck and your shoulder again, gently kissing at your exposed skin.

“n-not yet..” you whimpered, your hands coming to the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. he gave a soft noise of acknowledgment as he placed his hand on your lower spine, pushing it forward so that you would lean back, your chest pushed out to him.

he took your nipple between his teeth, gently sucking at your chest. your hand was in his hair, gently tugging at it as he played with your hardening nipples while you fucked yourself on his thigh. he sucked on each of them until he was bored, moving further down until he couldn’t kiss you without moving you from his leg. he could see the look on your face as you go you were close to your orgasm, causing his hard-on growing in his pants to twitch. your face was filled with pure ecstasy. he looked down to see the wet patch on your shorts, forming on his own.

“you gonna cum, baby?” he spoke softly , holding your head up so he could see you. you nodded.

“yes anders.. fuck..” you whined while you held onto him to hold yourself up. “fuck.. please oh my god..” you cried out loudly, feeling yourself coming closer and closer before finally, one last swipe of your clit over his thigh and you were done for. your body leaning into his as you rode out your orgasm, he held your shaking frame close.

“i got you baby…” he said as he move his leg with your body until you slowed down and stopped, your chest rising and falling, underneath his big arms wrapped around you. as you finally came down from your high, you pushed yourself up from his chest, placing a kiss to his jaw.

“you all good?” he asked, patting your back.

“yes.. i’m fine.” a laugh left your mouth , looking down at your legs and your shorts. you even noticed his hard on in his pants , making your face burn. “so uh.. you wanna keep going..” you looked up at him.

soon you were being picked up by him and taken to his bedroom, and as he threw you down on his bed, he was pulling his shirt off before helping you get the wet shorts you had on off as well, soon your panties also. he pushed his shorts down and as he pulled his boxers down, you were sitting there marveling at his body - he was carved by the gods themself. “what?” he said , noticing how you stared when he pushed his hands into his hair, pushing it back from his face before he was on top of you.

when he was on top, he placed his lips against yours. he smiled into the kiss, his hands feeling down your thighs and between your legs before his fingers gently pressed against your sensitive clit, causing you to shutter against him.

“anders..” you whimpered as he circled your sensitive clit. he breathed against your lips, trying to contain himself while his cock throbbed between his legs. he continued to push you to your edge before you were almost at your second orgasm then pulling his fingers away. your voice sounded desperate as you whined his name.

“you ready for me to fuck you?” he spoke as he pulled away, finding his body between your legs, pushing them around his hips.

you nodded, as he picked up his cock, pushing the tip through your wet folds. his cock was thick in his hand as he pressed his tip against your entrance. he took his free hand, pushing your leg up around his side. “okay baby..” he mumbled quietly before he pushed his cock into you, slowly pushing himself in further, leaning over you to stare at your face as you melted into ecstasy. he didn’t stop until his cock was fully buried inside of you, causing his head to fall forward, a grunt leaving him.

his hair was a mess as he held his hand to your hip, his fingers imprinting on your soft skin. “f-fuck anders..” your voice was weak as he composed himself, finally pulling out until he was nearly at the top again before slamming back into you. you cried out, your hands meeting the sheets, your fingers tightened within the soft fabric as he began to steadily thrust into you. your name fell from his lips as he threw his head back, fucking into you.

he soon leaned over you, placing his arms under your waist, holding your hips up higher to his as he fucked you, causing him to hit you at a different angle. your moans became louder as you melted under him. your back arched underneath him, you whines while he freed a hand to hold your face, causing you to look up at him.

“open..” he spoke softly, encouraging you to open your swollen lips so he could press his fingers into your mouth, his thick digits filling your mouth, your moans vibrating against his calloused skin.

as you sucked his fingers, he fucked his cock into you, picking up his pace while he watched his fingers go in and out of your mouth. “shit baby…” he groaned under his breath while he held your hips to him. you couldn’t express how close you were through speaking so you used your noises, moaning loudly around his fingers, your eyes hooded as you tried to keep yourself composed as you could feel your second orgasm rising through your skin.

“you bout to cum, baby?” he leaned closer to you, pulling his fingers from your mouth. you nodded. “no tell me more..” he spoke, his hand moving your hair from your face.

“yes.. fuck anders i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum on your fucking cock..” you strung your words together as he held your face.

“why don’t we cum together” he said, leaning back, knowing this meant you couldn’t just cum when you wanted to. he leaned back, placing both hands back on your hips, holding you up by your hip bones rather than under your back. he began to pull your hips to his, adding to the overwhelming pleasure growing. he thrusted into the spot which made you see stars, feeling himself edging closer every time he’d thrust into you. throwing his head back, he groaned.

“fuck baby i’m gonna cum oh my god..” his fingers began to bruise your skin as he gripped your hips.

“cum inside of me.. please anders-“ you whined. he knew you were safe - so he was almost begging in his head to be able to cum inside of you. you could feel yourself coming closer, almost being pushed over the edge until he finally said

“cum for me baby..” his words were gruff as he continued to rock his hips into you, watching as you finally let yourself go, your body arching towards him while you almost screamed his name, squeezing his cock with your walls, coaxing him to give you one final slam into your cunt before filling you up. you tried not to scream as he leaned over, holding you close as you rode through your orgasm. “fuck baby.. you’re so good.. god damn you’re so good..” he stilled his hips, fighting his own urges to continue fucking you through his own orgasm. he was deep in you, his cum could have dripped out with how much he dumped into you.

your chest was heaving as he slowly moved back, your eyes were very soft as you stared up at him.

“can i pull out or would you like me to stay here a little longer..” he asked, moving your hair from your face once more, leaning over to kiss you gently.

“y-you can pull out..” your voice was hoarse, leaving him to kiss your cheeks and forehead, your lips against them your chin before he sat up, slowly pulling out. he watched as his cum dripped from you, biting his lip before he got up, pulling on his boxers before getting a warm damp rag to clean you up from his bathroom. making his way back in, he watched as you slowly propped yourself up on your palms.

“you doin okay?” he spoke softly as he wiped between your legs, up your thighs and down between your folds. you nodded , a small sound of approval leaving your lips as you stared at him while he concentrated between your legs. he finally looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. you leaned forward, placing your lips against his. he moved a hand to hold your face as he kissed you.

“i want to tell you something - but i just don’t want you to freak out..” your voice was soft as you spoke against his lips.

“yeah , what is it?” he slowly pulled away, moving to go and grab you some of his own sweatpants - “one second.” he jogged to your room, finding where you had put your clothes and found panties for you before jogging back. he walked over to you and helped put them on your frame.

“i uh.. i don’t know.. i just think i have to confess to you how much i’ve wanted to do that for so long..” you spoke as he pushed the pants up your legs.

“yeah?” his response wasn’t dismissive, he was thinking of a response. “well i’ve always.. felt the same. i just couldn’t ever tell you..” he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

“ive wanted you for a long time” he shrugged. “ever since that first night we went out to dinner after a game. you’ve been the one i’ve wanted..” he said, placing his lips against yours.

“then why did you wait so long?” you asked as he pulled away, to grab a t-shirt for you. he came back to the bed and motioned for you to lift your arms up.

as he pulled the shirt over your head he spoke “well i could ask you the same thing.” he shrugged and finally sat back down on the bed with you, rolling back to lay with you in the pillows. “i guess maybe i just expected it to happen.. i’m not sure.”

you smiled, looking up at him with your frame against him. his chest was bare, and as you leaned against him you could feel as his heart beat.

“i’m not sure how this will work out, y/n.. but i love you. you know i love you but i mean it.. i love you so much that words fail to describe how much i’ve always wanted you.” he said, his eyes avoiding yours, almost embarrassed at having to dump out all of his feelings.

“i love you too anders.. so much.” you reached your hand up, forcing him to look down at you, a smile on your face as you did so. “you should treat me to dinner some time this week..” a giggle slipped from your lips as he rolled his eyes.

“yeah- if i can get you out of the house without wanting to fuck you again..” he chirped, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “you should take a nap again baby” he said, his hands rubbing down your back once more.

“you too..” you said, placing your face against his chest as you let sleep take over you again.

it was almost like everything that just happened was fake - how on earth did you just fuck your best friend and in all of it, confess your feelings to him in the process. you never thought he’d feel the same way but suddenly, when the two of you were left alone in a place no one could even think to interrupt, all the walls came crashing down.

you loved that boy; you’ve loved him ever since that night he showed an ounce of compassion that no star QB, no NHL bound forward, no highschool league baseball player could have ever shown any girl like he showed you.

the way his hands fit into yours and the way his lips felt when he kissed your head or the way his arm fell into the groove of your waist was never unnoticed in any situation where you were closer than just friends.

anders lee was your best friend and your love.. no one could ever take that from you, not now.

[ask-missparker]

Are we out of the woods yet? / OUAT AU

Pairing: Red!Rick x Huntress!Luna

Summary: What if the beast was just a kind man wearing a red coat but he just didn’t know it yet?

Extra characters: Rochelle as Cinderella, Bruce Banner as The Father and etc

Note: Song reference to Taylor Swift in the title section

——

The mist of winter snow and the deep rains of night created a storm of cold weather within the woods. But it created a lovely new glimpses into the world, making it a winter wonderland with icicles forest above the cabin door. Despite the season not being the best, it made Red feel like he could do anything.

Which was the problem. He couldn’t.

His father wasn’t a huge fan of the winter season due to the weather and the craving time for wolves alerting the woods. And with his son being rather young, he wanted him to be protective as he feared who would have the courage to take him on if they learned the truth…

Red however was reckless and never listened to his father’s wishes of going out in the late afternoon. His father did make an exception to let him roam around free as long as he kept his deep red cloak with swirling marks on his hood. Red obviously listened to that request from his father, despite not caring for the low deep cut of a color.

In came a knock on his door as a young voice said, “Come on man, open up or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow this house down.”

Red opened the door rolling his eyes and scoffed, “You’re not funny, you know that?”

“Ah well, it made you open the door didn’t it?”

“Got me there. My father doesn’t like me hanging out with you yet, he takes to your charm quiet nicely.”

“I am handsome. Come on we gotta grab some fabric from the market and then we can plan our road trip we always wanted to take. You can finally meet a nice lady.”

Red rolled his eyes and ignored his last comments about exploring the land and finding a bride one day. He thought it wasn’t in his cards to do so. All Pete wanted to do was get him out of the house every once in a while instead of staying trapped. He had good intentions.

At the farmers market, the friends wondered around the place in search of fabrics and food to their respective families. Pete was off buying brown fabic for his new brown coat as Red was buying apples when he noticed a young fair maiden who seemed to drop an stack of pears from her basket.

“Uh miss, i think you dropped this?” He said holding up the pear as the young redhead turned around and smiled, causing him to return the smile.

She sighed at her clumsy tone taking the pear from his grasp and replied, “Ah, thank you..I did not even noticed it fell out of there.”

“No problem, be careful next time…”

“Ella. Just Ella…and uh, y-you are?”

“Red..or Rick depends on who asked.”

“I like them both..”

“Thanks. Well be careful, Miss Ella. Those pears are very expensive this time of year.”

“Ah yes i know, thank you again.”

The redhead waved at him, thanking the man so she went off to continue her path home. Pete walked over seeing Red smile asking who is the girl as the blonde waved him off saying he was just some nice young lady.

The two friends left the market, discussing the possibility of wolves being out that night thinking it was a bunch of silly tales and the wolves were just causing harm because they were scared. But a small part of Red wanted to be the hero and hunt that wolf himself, get a closer look at the creature up close. They went their separate ways afterwards, with Red going home to his father with beard and fruits.

His father was always kind hearted yet secretive about certain subjects such as hunting, wolves and royalty. He didn’t trust them, only himself and his family. He respected it.

Everytime he asked if he could go hunt the wolves with the other guys his age, his father said ‘no, you stay inside. you know red repeal wolves, kiddo, and keep that hood on.’ He was bark back and argue with his on the topic but relentlessly listened knowing he only meant well.

So in result he would stay put and enjoy his day at home, collect eggs from their shed and build items using wood in the afternoon if he wasn’t heading out. It was nice actually living a simple life but he always wondered if there was more to this.

Which led him to the moment he met her…

Red was doing his daily routine of collecting eggs from the chickens. Flipping on his hood, putting on his light brown gloves and boots for the snowy weather. He hasn’t seen Pete in days, it worried him and led him to wonder why he hasn’t seen him, especially since the high court sighting were running deep—

He paused opening up the door to the decently side chicken coop, sensing something was wrong. His ears perked up at the ruffling sounds and light whimpers, his senses were turned on looking inside. He stepped around grabbing a broomstick from behind the door ready to pounce at the intruder with a glare. The ruffling and sudden sniffing became louder with every step. Behind the stack of hey, he saw it.

More like her. He pointed the end of the broomstick in the front of them about to ask a couple of questions until he stopped short. His eyeline met her, following her gaze as she stood upright coming behind the the stack blabbing and stuttering softly, but Red tuned into rousing on her looks.

He never seen such beauty until this early night. Her deep chocolate brown eyes that held a whimper of fear behind them, her long hair glowing a raven black color and her honeycomb skin tone. He was completely mesmerize by her bewildering good looks that held a soften to them, like she can do no wrong. In his eyes at least. He glanced down to noticed a crossbow on the ground beside her and two pure white eggs in her hands.

She blinked noticing that he wasn’t exactly listening to her per say, that’s when she got a good look at the young man. His wild yet tamed blonde curls, his striking blue eyes that casted a shadow over whoever crossed paths with him, and his light creamy skin was like a breath of fresh air. Along with his deep voice, god she would’ve melted like a candle right now just hearing it.

He repeated his breathy question, “A-are you stealing our eggs?”

“I uh, i um..I’m sorry I-I could go. I didn’t m-mean to d-do that..t-take th-them back..” She response looking away for a moment holding the items towards him.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright. You didn’t nothing wrong, I guess.”

“I didn’t..? But you look like your kinda mad..I’m sorry..”

“It’s alright, no harm them. Just wasn’t expecting someone in here. Why are you in my shed? And who are you?”

“…I’m uh, I’m uh..Frosty!”

She held a small smile, saying that bit but he could see right across her lie. He smirked, “That’s not your name. What’s your name?”

“..w-wh-why are you g-gonna do something if I tell you?” She asked glancing around the room for weapons but found none to her relief.

“What? No!..sorry, didn’t mean to shout. I won’t harm you, just wanna know why are you here?”

“..oh..oh okay. I’m Luna..like the moon? I am very sorry I am came here..it’s that, I have no where else to go. My home is a little far from here..”

“So you came into my shed for shelter?”

“Y-yeah..I’m sorry about that. I just need a place to stay the night.”

Red was about to say ‘You can stay here forever!’ but instead he just nodded with a bright smile guiding her out the door to his small home. Luna explained how she was on a small mission to hunt down and possibly kill a prince’s heart but she couldn’t do it and let him go. Her boss called her stupid and poof her away into the woods side of the kingdom near the area of her home.

He thought she was brave and rather noble for that. She was blushing at his comment calling him sweet for that, causing him to start blushing softly at her.

It was love at first sight one might have said, especially since the moment his father, Bruce, was introduced to the young girl he found her to be rather lovely. He never took too kindly to strangers but for some reason he couldn’t help it and smiles at her. Especially the way her and his son looked at one another.

He heard she was a huntress but her attitude was too gentle to act than the ones he remembered meeting back in the day. Bruce cooked them some bread and eggs to eat that early night as he went to his den.

Red and Luna spent the rest of the night talking in the living room after dinner, laughing and smiling at one another’s jokes. Yes, the raven haired girl was shy and sweet but she was easy to talk to which made Red fall into such a ease with the girl. It was completely comfortable even.

Red leaned forward then said, “Uh, this is silly..but um, your the first girl I’m able to have a full blown conversation with..”

“I don’t think that’s true..” She replied placing a hand over his own, not pulling away.

“Oh no, believe me, it is! All the other times I can be very shy and awkward, wanting to get in then out of there..”

“I see what you mean. Most people hear my title and think I might hurt them, then they take one good look at me and laugh thinking they can use me..”

“Yeah you don’t seem like the strongest face I’ve seen..not rough or murderous, but kind and sweet..”

“You must say that to all the others girls..”

“What other girls?”

She blushed and grinned waving him softly at his comment. Her heart started to beat at his eyes staring at her own, it was like he can hear it. Her soft pumping of her heart, as she leaned in closer with her short time in her job she could tell where this was headed or so she thinks. Maybe he just wants to become friends?

“This is crazy and probably the most reckless thing I’m about to say to you but…do you think we what have here could happen? I just met you but I want to be around you and stuff..but my father won’t let me leave.” He added with a sigh.

“Why not? You are perfectly capable of doing that yourself I think.” She responded.

“With wolf sightings, he doesn’t want me to head out…and my friend, he has been gone for a few days..”

“Well maybe he is the wolf? He is hiding or something.”

Red was silent for a long period of time as a grin appeared on his face, she was onto something. He only ever seen Pete during the day and never at night, if he could prove he is a wolf and a good person, he could be a hero. Catch the wolf, prove someone’s innocence and show his father he can take care of himself just fine.

“You’re a genius!” He shouted, out of impulse pressed a kiss onto her lips and suddenly pulled back, “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what came over me..”

She blushed again, touching her lips with a slight pout, “N-n-no! Th-that was okay. You uh, kiss kinda nice? I liked it…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…why am I genius?”

“You gave me an idea! How do you catch a wolf?”

“Well, if your friend is a wolf..to prove th-that he is one and not have run off or hurt anyone, you can uh, tie him to a tree..o-only if it wants to, of course!”

——-

The next couple of nights, it was planned and staged. Rick would go out with Pete, tie him up to the tree and leave Luna in place pretending to be in underneath the covers. Especially since she would wear her red cloak to disguise herself as a asleep figure.

Red had successfully convinced Pete to go along with the plan, reminding him how he always wanted him out of the house. And showing this act of bravery could be it! Pete, ever the optometrist friend, went along with the plan having his friends tie him up with a rope. The two started a fire to keep warm and brought food just in case for the night.

All that happened was to wait it out. Wait for Pete to turn all teen wolf.

Meanwhile at the house, Luna was asleep in Red’s bed or at least pretending to be. There was a small note on the table beside her to fake the idea that Luna left the night to grab extra firewood while Rick was asleep. Bruce walked in sensing something was off but couldn’t place his finger on it, picking up the short note not knowing to believe it or not as he let out a sigh. Bruce decided to shake his son awake, turning him off to find Luna in this place as she sat up.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, trying to keep calm as his grip crumbled the note.

“H-he is in not danger! I promise, it’s alright.” She tries to explain, in a light voice.

“Where is he?”

“Well um, he is with Peter. And I know you don’t like him but..i trust Rick on this one..we figured out that he is one of the wolves this winter.”

“You did what?! You two kids are insane for that. It’s dangerous out there.”

“But Mister Banner, he is a grown young man. They b-both are are..they can take care of themselves.”

“You think Peter is the wolf?”

“Y-yes. A we-werewolf..he’s also human. B-but he won’t hurt him, he got him tied up..that’s a good thing!”

“No it’s not. Oh, that poor kid..”

“A-what? What happened?”

“Follow me.”

As they spoke rushing out of the house, Pete was tied up screaming and shouting trying to break the chains starting at the wolf in front of him. If wasn’t his reflection as a wolf but his friend. In front of him stood Red, Rick Banner, as a deep dark blackened wolf with beating blue eyes snarling at him as he stumbled in front of him the pounced tackling Peter to the very snowy ground they stood on.

Luna and Bruce walked up the hills carrying weapons, along with torches to keep themselves into the seeing well of the woods. Luna was holding her crossbow looking around for clues of anything possible as Bruce lead the way to the center of the woods to find his son explains what he know.

Luna was flabbergasted and asked, “W-wait? You knew?”

“Of course I did. We thought the trait would not pass onto him, since my grandfather was one and so I wasn’t as strong for the gene.” He explained.

“What do you mean?”

“I do have the gene, I can turn into one myself when I was younger but my cells with age weren’t as strong as they once were. I still have my senses but the rest faded away.”

“And Red?”

“We thought he wouldn’t get it. But when he was 14, it started coming and going. I paid a Wizard, for that cloak keeps him for turning, but he doesn’t like to always wear it.”

“Why didn’t tell him..?”

“I didn’t want him to have that burden of thinking he was a beast. That he couldn’t be loved..”

“Or find any love? I felt his heartbeat..he can love..I think I might love him…”

“Then he got very lucky to find you...god, I’m fool to keep this from him, I messed up.. but I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t mean to. You were trying to protect him..”

Once they arrived, Luna noticed a small path of bloody footsteps on the ground as she held up her crossbow in slight waves of fear. Bruce gasped at the body on the ground, pressing a hand to the pulse trying to see if the body, being Peter’s, was still alive by any chance. But he wasn’t. The bloody footsteps came in circles as the black wolf came back snarling with striking blue eyes that looked at Bruce in anger and sadness then back at Luna whimper then run.

Bruce was running after him, as the idea of bring his son down crossed his mind but he didn’t want to hurt him. He told Luna to find him as he followed behind her. Luna nodded holding her crossbow and chased after Rick, up and down the snowy deep dark nights of the wood.

Using her skills, she tracked him into a small cave, lowing her crossbow at the wolf curled up into himself, snarling and whimpering. She could hear Bruce telling her to stand back as he tossed the cloak over his son, but all she did was kneel in front of him holding out a hand for him to reach.

Rick’s snarls calmed down looking away as he sadly whimpered, nodding reaching for a paw towards Luna sensing her to be gentle. The cloak was thrown onto his body, as he shuffled from wolf to human dressed in his normal clothes panting. He seemed like he blacked out, looking up at the two with watery eyes, as Luna took his hand and he tightened his grasped.

“W-what? What happened?” He asked out, looking around to noticed them in a dark carve.

“We have to go..” Bruce repiled, helping his son up as he patted his head, “..I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Where’s Pete?”

“He’s gone..he dead.”

It took Rick a moment to realized what he meant, gasping at the realization that hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes water in shock and disbelief that he did such as thing, mutter that he was the wolf. Thinking he was a beast that can’t be loved. He looked at Luna with watery eyes, sniffling as it started to come back to him that the howling belonged to him. Luna held him up by the bicep, shaking her head leaning her face forward giving him an unspoken promise that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t know and it was an accident.

“It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?” She repeated, in such as kind yet sweet tone it was very much believable to him.

He nodded, biting his lip and sighed, “I’m so sorry…it was my plan to set this whole thing up..”

“You didn’t know, Rick..it’s okay, I’m here…I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.”

“Your too kind to me..”

“Because you showed me kindness first..”

The trio run off escaping the woods and back into the warmth of the cabin, turning on the fireplace shutting off the newly installed fabricated curtains. Rick held his cloak close to his chest talking with his father who explained to him the truth. There were shouting, yelling and a few short notice barks at one another.

Luna looked out the window every once in a while, trying to keep the peace between father and son waiting for it all to die down. After a while, it did. Bruce apologized greatly for what he has done and Rick thanked him for the apology, for his honesty, but not fully forgetting him just yet.

Which was understandable.

————

Late that very night, Rick was asleep in the bed next to Luna trying to relax after that nightmare of a moment. A part of him still felt like a beast, wondering if he will be seen the same way after this. He felt Luna left the side of the bed, keeping his eyes closed waiting for her to return.

Luna was wrapped up in a warm brown blanket when she heard a tapping from the windows, peaking her curious opening the shudders to find a man in dark clothes leaning against the windows grinning lightly. A wishful attitude in his position, holding an item in his hand that lightly glowed.

She closed her eyes searching for a moment of courage and gulped, “W-who ar-are you? Wh-what do you w-want?”

“Hello to you too, dearie.” He said turning around to face her properly and nod, “You’re more beautiful than the stories. I’m Cole, I’m here to give you a gift for your troubles.”

“Wh-what is it? Do I have to give you something in return?”

“No of—oh no, wait there is something darling. This gift is a test, I want to see if your admiration for one another is true.”

“A-admiration? Wh-what is that supposed to mean?”

He pulled out the item that was that blood red shining rose that glowed a gentle pink. It was stunning, being enchanted by the strength of love, devotion and kindness. With a lovely dose fitting chance of admiration is what held the heart of that rose. It was a challenge, a test to see if your love was true. If it wasn’t just a game of the mind.

“Woah..” She muttered reaching out to touch it.

Cole pulled it away for her reach and chuckle, “Hold on darling, you will get your gift. I just want to know if you think your worth it.”

“…I um, I like to think I am..am I?”

“That’s for you to see for yourself. The flower will keep glowing it’s beautiful streaks but only if you want it to.”

She took the rose about to say another word but she somehow understood what he meant. It was magic with a price. As she blinked at the shudders, he was gone. She closed the window and curled back into bed holding the rose to show to Rick. He asked what it is as she explained, hearing what the item respectfully stated made him give the first true smile of the late night.

The pair curled into one another arms chatting quietly the whole night though in pure silence as the moonlight shining above them.

Who could ever love the beast? She did.

——

Added more to the series! What do we think?

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @thecavalrywife @cherrysft and etc

[joocomics]

HIHIHIHIH 🤞 HOW R U FIRST OF ALL 🫂 SECOND I COME FORTH WITH LOTS OF XDH THOUGHTS I was well on my way to passing tf out before I started thinking and now I need to tell u before I forget them all 🥲

First!!! Gunil and taking pics of u when he’s literally balls deep in ur cunt 🤭🤭 he’ll be pressing your thighs against your belly, ankles and feet dangling next to your head and your eyes shut and mouth fall wide when he suddenly decides now is a good time to take a pic. “Smile, doll, you’re on camera.” And you can’t really smile so you kind of just?? Like stare with fucked our puppy eyes and swollen, wet lips. Drool coming down the side of your face, hair matted and messily strewn…. And he loves every second of it. Snapping some photos before taunting you with them like, “oh, pretty, I fucking love when you make that face. I’ll keep it forever in that picture…. That alright?” And he doesn’t care if u say no because he’s saving them for later, all different angles, all the messy lips and bites along your skin, even some he made you take yourself!! Oh, I’m thinking thoughts…….

Okay and second!!! Fwb Seungmin (oh my god) who literally ruins all other men for you. He somehow learns so quickly what makes you tick. You two weren’t the closest friends to begin with, but he was kind and somehow remembered everything you told him— from that random little thing from a month ago to your favorite things. So when you two get drunk together and end up messily fucking against the floor this commenced a very passionate fwb relationship!! It was only the third time he had you pressed against the bed that he was whispering all the right things and driving you insane— everything you liked was being done, everything he said you’d talked about enjoying in passing, even the way he gripped onto your hips or held your wrists was just right. And you’ve tried to be with other men who weren’t him but it doesn’t feel the same. It feels like no one else’s dick will satisfy you anymore…. What a shame 🤞😭

Okay and lastly is more of a messy half thought about Junhan and playing old rock vinyls— the two of you relaxing in bed as the midday sun peaked through the window. Your record playing on the ground as the same vinyl you’ve played 30 times replayed once again. It was like a movie scene— gorgeous and everything, despite being a mess on the wooden floors, was pretty. Junhan has you sat on the edge of the bed as the soft drums of the song flow through the air like currents. And he’s got a pretty hand on your neck, partially on your jaw and tilting your head up. His long, thick hair is falling past his cheekbones, tickling his chin and lips as he softly peers down at you, cute eyes squinting as he smiles, flustering you so easy. And he’s so gentle as he bends down to kiss you; the kiss starts incredibly soft, dangerous as it made your heart skip a beat and mind go blank. But then as the vinyl reaches it’s end, emitting silence as the needle pokes helplessly against the record, he’s pushing you back into the mattress with a knee between your thighs that not so subtly brushes against your core. ☹️ GAH!!!!!!

Kinda entering my Junhan era…… tell me why this man is ALWAYS on my mind…… tf…..😰

IT WENT FROM WORSE TO WORSER FRRRR YOU’LL BE THE DEATH OF ME / hj

also, hihi!! i’m good tysm for asking 🫂 wby??? hope you’re having a great start of the week 🩷 don’t know how you live with this brain of yours girl

SO FREAKING HOT I ROLLED MY EYES BACK INTO MY HEAD … the only right thing to do after this is the next day for YOU to take pics of him is it not ????? sit on his cock, slowly ride the soul out of him with a hand around his throat and take a pic of his pretty face with his pretty lips moaning from your grip

it’s not a want it’s a need! idk but the last few days the thoughts of fwb seungmin have been creeping up in my mind now my fingers are itching to write about it 😭 i have a feeling he & gunil would be the best of keeping such relationship

thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis oh my god this is not a half thought sweetie THEY’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO HURT LIKE THAT i made myself cry even more by imagining this with his current hair 🕳️🚶‍♀️

[comm-caribou]

Chapter Twenty-One: Till Someone Gets Hurt:

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Bullying (let me know if I miss any!)

————

Despite the fact it was late, the ship was still alive with activity from the crew.

Holding a little tin of homemade cookies, Fury made mental notes in his head of everyone. The two Navy troops heading to bed, the droids heading to the Commander’s quarters for repairs, Tracks whispering to Coyote as they snuck to the medbay, Tunnel squad heading to their barracks sweaty from a workout in their training room.

Fury lightly tapped his knuckles on Juliette’s door, and he waited patiently for the door to slide open.

He was expecting Cosmos, but instead Juliette greeted him in pajama shorts and an oversized black shirt covered in water.

“You caught me at a bad time,” Juliette rung out the hem. “I just spilled my watercolors, luckily I saved the painting.”

“Need a new shirt?” Fury asked.

“It’s okay,” she beaconed him in, “I’m sure I’ll find a spare.”

He followed her in, seeing Cosmos on her bed enthralled in a book. The pilot looked cozy in his fatigues, and too lost in the pages to notice Fury had entered.

“What do you have, sweet boy?” Juliette flipped through her closet.

“Cookies,” Fury set the tin down, “Frenzy and Tag are attempting to teach the other pilots how to bake.”

“Are you’re not learning?” Juliette teased.

“M-maybe if it was cooking?” Fury shrugged, “I made a roast once.”

“Ooo,” Juliette picked up a shirt, “sounds delicious.”

She refolded the shirt, and put it back.

“I have an extra shirt,” Fury turned, “I’ll be right back. You can paint me a picture as payment. I’ll hang it up in my bunk.”

Juliette leaned on the desk, “my art isn’t that good.”

“I think it is,” Fury blurted out.

His words hung in the air, and she just looked at him flustered and speechless.

“I’ll… I’ll go get that shirt,” Fury hurried to the door, “be back in a second.”

He didn’t give her time to respond. He just put one foot in front of the other and ran to the barracks.

With every step, he scolded himself for his lack of professionalism.

This is not how Commander Havoc trained you. Do better! Behave like a soldier!

He went into his locker, picking up the clean looking shirt and leaving past his sleeping brothers.

Although saying they were asleep never felt accurate to him. They were always on the battlefield in their dreams. He had them too, and he considered it the act of switching battles.

He reentered Juliette’s quarters, where she was cleaning her desk. On the bed, Cosmos was still reading as tears rolled down his cheeks.

��Here,” Fury handed her the shirt, “I believe this is the clean one fresh from laundry.”

She took it, smiling up at him, “thank you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Cosmos groaned, “that’s how it ends?”

Cosmos closed the book, and lifted his head. His gaze fell on Fury, looking perplexed by him.

“When did you get here?” Cosmos asked.

“He’s been here,” Juliette reached onto a shelf, “here’s the next book.”

“Next book?” Cosmos passed her the first, “how many is there?”

“Three,” she stated, “I’m going to go change.”

Fury turned to her, “I’ll be heading back to-“

“No,” she pouted, “stay.”

Fury paused, “why?”

“Because we like your company,” Cosmos stated.

Juliette gasped, “he should sleep over!”

“Yes,” Cosmos agreed.

Fury looked between them, “r-really?”

Juliette folded her hands under her chin, “please?”

How can I say no? Can I say no? Would it be rude? I feel like I should, but I really, really don’t want to.

Cosmos sighed, “at least hang out for a little bit. We’ve barely seen you around all week.”

Fury’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t believe one person would want his company, and in this room there were two.

I guess I really can’t say no.

“I’ll go get my fatigues,” Fury smiled.

****

“You did what?” Coyote exclaimed.

Boomerang groaned, holding his throbbing head that still ached. Everything hurt, from his body to the bright, fluorescent lights with one flickering in the back corner of the med bay.

“Boomerang,” Mirage paced angrily, “how could you? You’re our head medic!”

“What if it went wrong?” Coyote barked. “Did you think of that? Did you?”

“Vods,” Shadow sat down next Boomerang on the brain scan table, “let’s not yell at him.”

“Especially after brain surgery.” Tracks stated.

Mirage shook his head disappointedly.

“Pretty Boy, I-“

“No.” Mirage stormed off.

Shadow jumped up, running after Mirage.

Way to show favoritism, Shadow.

Coyote huffed, “I volunteered.”

“I know,” Boomerang closed his eyes, “I just didn’t want to risk hurting you first.”

Tracks sighed, and he heard him walking away.

“I just…” Boomerang held his head, “I wanted to make sure it’s safe.”

The lights flipped off, and Tracks came back over sitting down.

“I know.” Tracks said calmly, “but you’re head medic and you’re Boomerang. Without you, who’s going patch us up and make us laugh so hard we burst our stitches.”

Coyote sat down, “I lost all of my squad. I’ve seen all of their corpses. I don’t want to add too many more of my brothers to that list, specifically the ones I like having around.”

Boomerang leaned on Coyote, “you can’t lose me. My name is literally Boomerang for a reason.”

“Because you’re annoying,” Tracks chuckled.

“Shut up, Too-Tall,” Boomerang rolled his eyes. “I need sleep.”

Tracks softly laughed.

Coyote turned to Boomerang, “do you have a nickname for everyone?”

“Yes, Bluey,” he stated, “I do. Pretty Boy, Too-Tall, General Princess, Commander I-Don’t-Get-It, Sergeant Grumpy. Fang was Baby Chef.”

Coyote smiled, “he would’ve found that funny.”

“Yeah, he would have.” Boomerang sighed, “I miss him.”

“Me too,” Tracks frowned. “Best part of breakfast was teasing the General for gushing over him.”

“Maybe she’ll gush about Fox,” Boomerang quipped.

“I hope not,” Tracks groaned, “he’s nice, but I don’t know that Commander well. Nor do I want to.”

“At least he’s somewhat safe,” Coyote shrugged. “Just really busy, and really deadpan.”

“I’d say stern,” Boomerang disagreed.

“Trust me,” Coyote said, “I heard all about Commander Fox from Commander Thorn and every Coruscant trooper walking by. Fox is just serious when he has to be.”

“Example of Fox being less serious than Cooper,” Boomerang stated. “Go.”

“According to Thorn, he once chose not to walk and just rolled around in a desk chair.” Coyote stated, “elevators, break room, mess hall, he didn’t get up unless necessary.”

Boomerang snickered, “I’m stealing that idea.”

****

“Mirage!” Shadow chased him into the back of the ship. “Wait!”

“Shadow, I don’t want to talk.” Mirage snapped. “Just go.”

Despite how cold he was being, he could feel Shadow trailing behind him.

Mirage sighed, then spun around momentarily losing his balance. He caught himself, and felt a twinge of annoyance when his little brother jolted forward to steady him.

“Shadow,” Mirage spoke sternly, “I want to be alone. Go away.”

“I get that you’re mad at Boomerang, but-“

“You don’t know!”

Shadow jumped back.

“Get real, kid! You don’t know anything about me, about Boomerang, or anyone in this Battalion! You know facts and you know how to copy people! Your big gimmick is that you like to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong!“

Shadow looked down, “I’m sorry.”

Mirage shook his head groaning, “just go.”

“Mirage, really though,” Shadow tried, “I just wanted to help…”

“Go shadow someone else,” Mirage stormed off, “I’m done with this.”

He stormed off down another hall, huffing and grumbling. He knew when he cooled down he’d feel awful and be sorry, but for now he wanted to be mad and that required space.

He paced and seethed, alone in back corridors no one really traveled other than maintenance droids.

He just couldn’t believe it.

Boomerang had no reason to cut open his head, and yet he did it! Mirage punched a wall, that idiot could’ve killed himself!

His knuckles stung. The pain went shooting up his arm, like a heatwave.

He shook it off.

Last thing he needed was to go see Boomerang.

****

It was bizarrely comforting being invited to sleepover. While one part of Fury liked being liked, another part was asking why this was happening.

Cosmos was still reading, indulging in the words written on flimsi as he snacked on the cookies.

Juliette was tiredly doodling on the floor beside Fury, occasionally nodding off and resuming like she didn’t just shut her eyes for longer than a blink.

Fury was playing solitaire, but more entertained by his sleepy companion wearing his extra fatigue shirt with her pajama shorts.

Packing up his cards, he scooped her off the floor like a lothcat and brought her to the bed.

“No…” she whined, but didn’t fight him.

“You’re tired,” Fury laid her down. “I’ll leave you to sleep now.”

She grabbed his sleeve, “stay here…”

“Those are the rules of a sleepover,” Cosmos licked his fingers, “besides, you go into the barracks now, you’ll wake one of the insomniacs.”

Fury let out a defeated sigh, “can I at least have a pillow if I’m going to sleep on the floor?”

“This bed can fit three,” Cosmos hopped up, “I need to brush my teeth.”

Fury turned his gaze back down at her, then slowly worked his way into the bed beside her.

He had brushed his teeth and had put on his fatigues planning to just sneak out once they were asleep. Now, he wasn’t sure he could do that with her right there cuddled up so close.

He laid there, watching her sleep. Trying to work out in his head how he could get out of this situation without offending them or getting made the bad guy again.

Cosmos came back out of the refresher, switching off its light as he returned to the bed. Instead of climbing in, he pulled the blanket over them, taking extra care to tuck her into an old, soft blanket that was patterned with art.

“Stop looking tense,” Cosmos said, “you’re wanted.”

“But why?” Fury asked, “what exactly d-did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Cosmos shrugged, “but whatever happened on Vixnix really struck a cord with her.”

Cosmos walked off to turn out the main light.

Fury moved closer to Juliette, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

I guess one night wouldn’t hurt, he thought. I wouldn’t mind waking up to her next to me.

****

It was the worse night of sleep in Boomerang’s whole existence since meeting Mirage months ago.

He had tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to shake a nightmare out of his subconscious.

He was no longer in control of himself and felt like an outsider in his body. By morning, he couldn’t remember exact details other than firing his blaster as people screamed.

He had woken up in a cold sweat, feeling more tired than when he went to bed. Everyone else was still in their bunks, snoring in deep sleep.

Boomerang laid there for a few minutes, trying to find the will to try again and close his eyes. When he couldn’t, he got up.

The bunk below him was empty, meaning Mirage never came back to bed.

Part of him wanted to go find his brother, but another part knew that Mirage wouldn’t want to see him yet.

He picked up his gear, and went to the showers to freshen up. He knew Mirage would act like nothing happened, so he had to too.

****

When Fury woke up, he could smell vanilla wafting under his nose. Usually he woke up to the smell of lavender essential oil that he dripped on his sleeves, as a little calming trick Havoc passed onto him.

He slowly lifted his eyelids, and found his General curled up into his chest and stealing all his body heat.

He didn’t know when, but she had managed to get herself tucked under his arm. He had been holding her for who knows how long, and this was not professional in any way.

“Morning,” Cosmos said, sounding chipper.

Fury looked up, seeing him sitting up reading.

“Morning,” Fury slowly began scooting out. “How long have you been up?”

“A few minutes,” he closed the book. “So, why’d you grab her?”

I grabbed her?

Fury sat up, “what do you mean?”

“You just suddenly reached out and began holding her,” Cosmos explained, “I tried talking to you, but you were dead asleep. Did you have a nightmare?”

“Maybe, but usually I just-“ he sniffed his red sleeve, “this is my clean shirt.”

“You usually sniff your sleeve?”

“I put lavender on them. It’s a calming trick.”

Fury lifted Juliette’s limp wrist, sniffing the sleeve that smelled like his lavender oil.

“She’s wearing it,” Fury sighed in relief, “I was cuddling her because she was wearing my shirt.”

Cosmos made a face that said he was unconvinced.

“It’s definitely the shirt,” Fury got up. “Nothing else.”

Cosmos reopened his book, “sure, Fury.”

****

Mirage sat at the mess table, eating his toast and zoning out as Cooper did his paperwork with Coyote.

Mirage ignored Coyote’s subtle glances, trying to catch his eye.

The only person he wanted to talk this out with was Boomerang, and he didn’t want to talk to him either.

Yet.

Hardwire sat down, chatting with Stickler as the Navy Captain joined them for breakfast.

Mirage continued eating with his left hand, hiding his swollen right one under the table.

Boomerang sat down in his usual spot beside him, and warily looked over at him as if to double check he was still allowed to sit there.

Mirage just turned away, taking another bite.

“You two okay?” Hardwire asked.

“Fine.” Boomerang mumbled.

“Super.” Mirage grumbled.

“Then where’s Shadow?” Hardwire asked, “he’s usually with you two now a days.”

“He never came to the barracks last night,” Cooper reported, “neither did Fury.”

Boomerang looked at Mirage, “I thought… you didn’t go to bed last night?”

Mirage picked up his empty tray, “I did go back to the barracks last night.”

Boomerang’s face shifted from hurt to angry. He jumped up, and ran after him.

“Hey!” Cooper called, “you two didn’t answer the question!”

Mirage didn’t answer, and neither did Boomerang. They went to the hall, and as Mirage was about to branch off, Boomerang grabbed him; He pulled Mirage off to the medical bay in a huff.

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Mirage pulled away.

“I don’t care!” Boomerang slammed him into the wall, “you were in the barracks last night!”

“Obviously,” Mirage tried to shove him off.

Boomerang readjusted his arm, pushing his weight onto his neck.

Mirage gasped for air, “the heck you doing?”

“Explain yourself.” Boomerang ordered, “why didn’t you hold my hand?”

“Why should I?” Mirage asked.

“Because I was having a nightmare!” Boomerang yelled. “You’re the only one who makes it better!”

Mirage rolled his eyes, “says the idiot who did brain surgery on himself for no reason.”

“You jerk!” Boomerang pushed him away, “you’re no longer my favorite brother!”

Mirage rolled his eyes, “you don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do!” Boomerang went over to the supply closet, “get your junk out of here, and never show your face in here again!”

“Fine!” Mirage grabbed his pack, “I won’t!”

“Good!” Boomerang snapped.

“Good!” Mirage stormed off.

He only made it a few steps. He was fine with this being the end of their friendship, but he remembered something Cooper said. Then, he remembered the awful thing he said.

“Osik!”

He turned back around and ran back to the medical bay, panicked.

“Doc!” Mirage rushed in.

“Don’t call me that,” Boomerang muttered, as he dumped out his medical bag.

“Just listen,” Mirage set his bag down.

Boomerang sighed, “what?”

“I was horrible to Shadow last night,” he explained, “I mean completely awful. I’m the reason he didn’t go to bed last night! I’m the reason he’s missing!”

“You what?” Boomerang slowly turned, eyes darkening, “you hurt our baby brother’s feelings? What the Hell is wrong with you?”

Mirage held up his hands, “please, just help me find him.”

Boomerang threw his supplies down, storming past him.

“Thank you,” Mirage chased after him. “I really—“

“I’m not doing this for you,” Boomerang cut him off, “I’m doing this for Shadow.”

[cinnamonnala]

Flipaclip, I use it maybe once in a blue moon

2. Left, I need to force myself to draw right facing people more lol

3. I’m going to say little for me is my middle school years so, Aster’s Trait was my first story and I’ve had it since middle school (I’m an adult now for context)

4. https://toyhou.se/11591188.aishina#41974448 HIM, I love him, but I don’t understand mermaid anatomy yet so, he’s a struggle

5. Depends, if it’s speaking of places like Tumbler, Insta, Twitter, and DA, then maybe 15 percent? Which I’m trying to fix, especially with tumbler. Discord, 100%, all my art goes in the servers I’m in XD

6. Just random designs I see, I have to try very hard to not accidentally rip off designs I see and fall head over heals for

7. Watercolor, I love watercolor art but I don’t have the patience or attention span to learn how to do it nearly as well as others, I’ll admire from afar

8. Hard to say since I loose interest but I eventually come back and force myself to work on it? Like, Aster’s Trait ironically. I have everything mapped, the story is basically done, but I haven’t put it onto paper in any way so, I can’t fully leave it alone, but since it’s done in my head I’ve lost interest in it

9. Since I work in procreate I don’t really have files but I rarely name my canvases. Folders yes, and they’re very practical

10. S W E A T E R S

11. Lots of music, commentary, video game challenges

12. Eyes and Hair

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

14. I love it when characters just have like, a signature thing, not like “oh they always wear that scarf” but more like, this group of characters all have this small minor detail that ties them all together

15. Up in my storage closet Bunk :’)

16. I think I’m pretty good at shading to some degree but it’s a pain to do, especially hard shading

17. Mostly drink, and a cold coke

18. I don’t think I’ve broken many art supplies if any? Though I have gone through a few Apple Pencil nibs before

19. I don’t think I have a favorite, but maybe just aesthetic stuff in general, if it’s a pretty item I can find at least some enjoyment in drawing it

20. This is extremely dependent but hands. I like the way I draw them. Only issue is I can’t handle my lefts and rights so I’m constantly putting the thumb in the wrong place TWT

21. Pastel gore, I really want to do more of it but I feel like I can never hit the right vibe or get ideas that fit the genre. Also just extremely detailed anime styles, I used to draw with way more detail but now my style is much more simple and I kind of regret it? It’s better for animating but, it feels like I’m being more lazy at the same time

22. I need to do more exercises, but sometimes I just roll my wrists and that’s about it

23. Muliply, Add, and Overlay are my best friends

24. No

25. This hasn’t happened to me yet to my knowledge

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended

27. No but I should

28. I’ve done a couple amino contests back when I was younger but otherwise no

29. Cooking shows, murder mysteries, and commentary

30. It’s hard to say, half of it is that I haven’t posted much yet so, I can’t really say

Weirdly Specific Artist Ask Game

Didn't see a lot of artist ask games, wanted to make a silly one.

(I wrote this while sick out of my mind last year and it's been collecting dust in my drafts, I might as well let it run free) 1. Art programs you have but don't use

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

3. What ideas come from when you were little

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

9. What are your file name conventions

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

12. Easiest part of body to draw

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

14. Any favorite motifs

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth)

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any

23. Do you use different layer modes

24. Do your references include stock images

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with

28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

[deleahtarte]

Because He’s Kenny [ Prologue ]

Pairing: Kenny / Butters - Marjorine

Content: Alt Universe - College, Aged up characters, Implied sexual content, friends to lovers

Summary: When your boyfriend can’t get it right, you can trust your childhood best friend to.

Note: To everyone who follows me on tumblr, thank you!! Please consider this as my service to you. This is a PROLOGUE, therefore not the finished fic! It’s supposed to be porn with plot and what we talked about when I did that poll with Marjorine. I’ll post the finished fic on ao3 officially, but everyone here deserves the first look. You guys mean the world to me and I hope I show that enough

Photo Creds: Alai Ganuza

“Are you feeling it?”

“Um…I’m feeling something.” As in a dull, consistent ache.

Creed sighed in frustration, making Marj’s mood drop, too. He tries moving his finger in a figure eight motion, just like what they read about, but that actually made it worse instead of better. “How about now?”

“No…”

With a loud groan that makes Marj jump, Creed reappears from between her legs with furrowed eyebrows. His whole face is practically scrunched up into an expression that could only be described as fed up. “Marj, darling, I think this is useless.”

She closes her legs, pushes herself up by her elbows. “R-Really?”

“Yes,” Creed rolled his eyes. It’s something he does very often at the slightest inconvenience. “why do you want to do this anyways? It’s not like I’m getting pleasure from it. This is just for you. And weren’t you the one telling me that sex should be good for both parties?”

Yes, she did tell him that—but only after Kenny told her that Creed shouldn’t be using her like a sex doll while giving her nothing in return. And she agreed. She got tired of opening her legs for him whenever he wanted and having to go to the bathroom to finish the job herself. It made her feel…like a toy.

“Well, yes, but—“

“But? There’s a but? So you’re a hypocrite.” Creed snapped. “Listen, I really don’t think I need to learn how to eat you out if I’m the one doing all the work when we actually fuck. You lay there like a dead fish and take it, meanwhile I’m tried the morning after because I always have to do every-single-fucking thing! How is that fair?”

Stunned silent, it takes Marj a moment to process what Creed said. He can be mean, borderline cruel even, but it's not often raised his voice with Marjorine.

Seeing her reaction, Creed sighed once again. He didn’t look any less annoyed. “Marj, I…I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

The damage was done nevertheless. Marj stands up, fixes her skirt, and rushes for her bag. Being around Creed when he’s like this is never a good idea. He’s the type of person to feel the highest when he’s high, and to be at rock bottom when he’s low. There’s never an in between. No happy medium.

“Are you seriously mad?” He asked when she makes her way to the door. “I already said I was sorry.”

“We’ll talk later. Preferably when ya aren’t bein’ unnecessarily mean.” As soon as those words left her mouth, she squares her shoulders in pride. Not being afraid of fights is something Kenny also taught her. And even though she is terrified, she can have those bouts of moments where she pretended otherwise.

The door to Creed’s dorm clicks shut behind her. In a matter of hours, Marjorine is sure her phone will start blowing up with apology texts, all which she’s heard and seen before.

The breeze is especially cold tonight. Creed and her had been trying for hours, but it’s just starting to dawn on her how long it’s actually been since they first began their…lesson.

Well, if it could even be called that. It’s hard to learn something when there’s no teacher present. Marj knew how to make her body work just as much as Creed did, which is not at all.

But she knows someone who does…

Her feet naturally takes her to his home, almost instinctively. She bypasses the closed shops and avoids the streets Kenny tells her is dangerous, all the while making sure to keep watch and listen for man made sounds. She owned a mace that went with her everywhere, a Fox Labs one that she knew like the back of her hand. Marjorine first learned how to use it when she was 12 years old and Kenny got worried that, ‘a cute girl like her’ would be targeted by bad people, especially men. So they practiced and practiced until the art of pulling the spray out and aiming became flawless.

Soon enough, Kenny’s apartment comes into view. It’s not on the safest side of town, and a little far from their college, but it was cheap and right within Kenny’s budget. He split rent with his roommate who interned at the hospital, so most of the time, Kenny had the place to himself. Marjorine hoped this was one of those nights.

The elevator dinged to signal her arrival. She steps out onto the 8th floor, stands in front of room 202, and gently knocks on it. Kenny was a late sleeper and an early riser, (none of which he wanted to be), so she doubted he was in bed right now.

A minute later, the door swings open—Marj’s face drops at who she sees.

“Ugh, seriously. You again?” Bernie Kaplan rolled her to the back of her skull, reminding Marjorine of Creed. “Will you ever stop?”

“Heya, Bernie.” Marjorine flashes her best smile, hoping it would ease the lines of irritation on Bernie’s face. “Is Kenny here?”

“It’s Bernadette to you, Majorine. And of course he is. This is his place.”

Bernadette Kaplan is the president of Chi Omega, in the Fellowship Committee, and known to be the most wanted girl at their college. None of that mattered to Marjorine though, because in the end, she only knew Bernie as one thing—Kenny’s girlfriend.

“Can I talk to him?”

“About what?” She asked with gritted teeth.

“Um, well gee, that’s priv—“

From above, a jacket is thrown over the top of Bernie’s head. She scrambles to get it off and turns around, facing— “Bern, don’t answer the door in just your underwear. That shits dangerous.”

Kenny is standing there, every ounce of him wet from the shower. He has a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and a small one hanging around his neck. Marjorine quickly adverts her eyes even though she’s seen this sight a millions times before, and a lot more.

“How about you stop answering the door in just a towel?” She pushed him slightly back as he laughed. Kenny, ever the gentlemen, helps her put his jacket on. It successfully covers her lacey bra that she greeted Marjorine with.

“What’s up, Buttercup?” Kenny eyed Marjorine’s disheveled dress. “Something wrong?”

“No, why, I just wanted to talk.” Marjorine meets Bernie in the eyes, sees the fire in them, and quickly adds, “If you have the time.”

“Course’ I do,” Kenny replied easily. He pats Bernie on the back. “Bern was just about to leave. Is your driver here?”

Glancing down at her phone, Bernie nods. “Yeah.”

Kenny turns to Marjorine. “Let me walk her to the car and I’ll be right back. Go sit and make yourself comfortable.”

Marjorine enters Kenny’s apartment, brushes against Bernie by accident upon doing so. She looked like she wanted to fray Marjorine alive on an open fire and stomp on her charred remains.

Kenny and Marj’s closeness must bother her, Marjorine deduced, because they’ve been childhood friends since they could walk. Maybe even before then.

When Kenny got accepted into college on a soccer scholarship, Marjorine got accepted into the very same one and they left South Park behind together. They likely would’ve lived together as well, but their college didn’t allow students of the opposite gender to room together. Which was why Marjorine resided in the dorms, while Kenny settled into a small apartment here.

In a blink of an eye, Kenny changed to his pajamas; a plain t-shirt and sweatpants he’s owned since junior year of highschool that barely fits him anymore. From the couch, Marjorine watched as Kenny tied Bernie’s shoes laces. He was real careful about it too, knowing they were Golden goose. As he ushered Bernie out the door with his hand resting in the middle of her hip, he turns back and gives Majorine an acknowledging wink. Marj smiles until the door shuts behind him.

Kenny’s apartment is a simple two bedroom with the bare necessities. A tiny kitchen, a machine and a dryer that didn’t work too good, a slim bathtub that Kenny said could barely fit two. All those things might have just made the apartment simply bad, but the good is just as great. The walls are relatively thick, there’s a balcony with an amazing view, and the air conditioning had no trouble going full blast. All in all, Marj deemed it a cozy little place. That may be simply because Kenny’s scent was everywhere here.

Walking to the window, Marjorine made it in time to see Kenny and Bernie walking to the car. It scared her for a bit, because from the back, her and Bernie looked similar. They had the same mellow blonde hair that was often curled.

The two stop short in front of the BMW. From what Kenny told her, Bernie hated to drive, so she insisted on having a personal driver that came at her beck and call. She’s saying something to Kenny, a hand on his chest, and he shakes his head at her. Bernie’s eyes widened in equal measure of shock and anger. She pushes Kenny away slightly, before trying to enter them vehicle, but that’s when Kenny grabs her arm, says something, and kisses her hand the way a prince from a fairytale would. Whatever he said pacified Bernie, because her expression morphs into something so soft that Marjorine could hardly believe it. She didn’t know Bernadette Kaplan was capable of making such a face.

Seemingly from nowhere, Marjorine feels a sharp pain od hurt in her chest. It turns into something dull and aching. It comes from time to time, though Marj has no idea what the cause is.

Kenny and Bernie haven’t been dating long. A month at most. Personally, Marjorine saw it coming from a mile away. Kenny—handsome soccer star bounded for the league. She of the glossy blond hair, regal face, and astounding proportions—Bernadette. Their relationship seemed as sure as the sun would rise. Marj wasn’t sure how serious they were with each other, but sometimes Bernie looked at Kenny as if she really liked him. The him that went past his looks. The Kenny that sings songs at the top of his chest even though he knows he’s got the lyrics wrong. Kenny who occasionally forgets to eat and needed the reminder to do so. Kenny who Marjorine loves and trusted from the bottom of her heart.

With a parting kiss, Bernie enters the BMW. As soon as it speeds off into the distance, Kenny turned and began walking back. Marjorine watched him closely until she jolted when Kenny suddenly looked up and met her eyes. Yikes. It’s almost scary how aware of his surroundings Kenny was.

They gave each other a wave. A minute later, the front door opens and in came Kenny.

“There she is.” Kenny opened his arms wide and Marjorine practically jumped into them. He squeezed her tight, face in her neck, before scooting back and letting his eyes slide down her body. “Is this the dress we rock-paper-scissors on?”

It’s a game they play when they couldn’t decide on something. After going back and forth on this dress, Kenny ultimately won and Marj bought it. “Sure is!”

“Give me a twirl, let me see.” Kenny spins her around as Marj giggled. “Oh yeah, you’re—that’s gorgeous. See? Floral and you is a lethal combo.”

Marjorine adored how the skirt was flowy and long. Kenny liked the small daisy prints of the fabric. When she showed it off to Creed (albeit without him asking), he told her she dressed like Becky. Marjorine didn’t know who that was until he broke it to her that she was his late-grandma.

“Aw, shucks. Thank ya, Ken.” Blushing from Kenny’s compliments will probably be something Marjorine will do for the rest of her life. He gives it out to her like candy, so you’d think she’d be immune to it by now—but no. It still makes her shy every time.

He winks. “Only being truthful.”

Her heart that was aching before soothed over as if Kenny had placed a healing balm on it. Marj couldn’t remember why it ever began hurting. If it even hurt at all.

“So what’s up? I thought you were supposed to be with Creed tonight.” Though Kenny said that with a smile, his words came off as gritty and restrained. Marjorine fumbled with the laces of her skirt.

“I was, but…” It was hard to put it into words. Where does she even began?

Sensing her hesitation, Kenny places a reassuring hand flat on her back, steering her towards the kitchen. “Okay, how about this? I make dinner—you haven’t ate since lunch, right? And then you tell me whatever you want to when you’re ready.”

A smile bloomed on her face. “Okay.”

It’s easy to settle into something that could almost be called routine. Kenny is an amazing cook, Marj—not so much unless she had clear instructions, so therefore it was mostly Kenny whipping something up in the kitchen. She’s sitting on the barstool swaying her feet, admiring how skillful Kenny was with a knife. Every food that’s been touched by Kenny was guaranteed to be good.

“Do ya remember how I told you I did research? On the uh…bed stuff?” Marjorine began slowly, trying to find her flow. Kenny stiffened up for half a second before he nods.

“Yeah, because Creed can’t fuck for shit?”

She opened her mouth to maybe defend her boyfriend, but then closed it due to her lack of a rebuttal. It was an established fact at this point. Neither Creed nor Marjorine knew the first thing about the bedroom.

“We tried mouth stuff today.” Marjorine continued quietly, face as hot as the scorching sun. She knew she shouldn’t be embarrassed—It’s Kenny. She could talk about anything with Kenny and he would never judge her for it. And though she knew that to be true, that still doesn’t stop her from fidgeting with her skirt.

“You sucked him off?”

Marjorine nodded. “Yes, and he came!”

“Good job.” Kenny replied with rather tense shoulders. The angle she was sitting at didn’t allow her to see what expression he was making right now. “He ate you out too, right?”

“Well…”

“Well what?” Kenny turned around, holding a spatula high as he stared at her with furrowed eyebrows. “Marj. Don’t tell me that fuck—guy didn’t show you how grateful he was.”

“He did!” Marjorine chewed her bottom lip. “Or at least he tried to.”

A mere second of quiet consideration passes before Kenny deadpanned, “…He didn’t make you cum.”

“Yes…”

Which wasn’t anything new. But it is because it wasn’t anything new that Marjorine and Creed (her more then him, truthfully), started taking the time to learn bedroom stuff. Creed was able to reach his orgasm just fine, it was Marjorine who needed that extra help. It barely came to her when she was playing with her own body, but with Creed, it never.

She’s never once been able to cum with him.

“Jesus.” Kenny runs a hand across his face, shaking it in disbelief. It must be hard for someone like Kenny to comprehend, because if the rumors were true—Kenny had never known bedroom troubles ever. “So what happened in the end? Did he apologize?”

“No, he got..,” Marj recalled Creed’s sour words, feels her mood plummet. “frustrated. He said he didn’t understand why he had to learn when I’m the one who lays there like a d-dead fish.”

There’s a rise of shame that wells up within her from admitting that, because she knew it was true. Apart from the typical blowjob, she didn’t do much else sexually for Creed.

“Did he call you that?” She could hear Kenny walking to her and stopping just in front of her, but Marjorine did not look up. She simply nodded.

Gentle fingers grab her chin, tilting her head up to meet narrowed baby blue eyes. “That asshole called you a dead fish? Like he has any room to talk, bastard can’t even make you come!”

His grip on her on her chin won’t let her look away, so she simply just murmured what she feared all along, “…Maybe it’s me Kenny.”

“Don’t say that.” Kenny said, and now he just looks sad. Marjorine wanted him to understand where she was coming from, though.

“No, maybe it really is. Maybe I’m the—“ Kenny hands move from her face to squeeze her shoulders in assurance, to ground her, maybe.

“Marjorine, baby, it’s not you.” A part of her melt at that nickname. Something Kenny only ever calls her during their vulnerable moments, like he’s trying to tug at her heart strings. It works every time. “I promise you it’s not you. Creed just doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, and that’s on him.”

She pursed her lips and admits, “But…I can rarely even make myself come.”

Every muscle within Kenny’s body stiffens. “…You can’t?”

It takes everything within Marjorine not to run out the door and die in embarrassment. It’s Kenny, she reminded herself, Kenny would never judge you.

“No, my fingers just don’t reach deep enough, I guess. It’s not…” She trails off, eyes landing on Kenny’s fingers; thick, long, adorned with a couple of silver rings they bought together at the pier because they were so cheap. It was Marjorine’s 18th birthday present to him, and she got to pick out the two of the five rings. “like yours.”

Jaw tight, Kenny swallowed before he asks rather hoarsely, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Doin’ what?”

“Okay.” Kenny’s head drops to Marjorine’s shoulder. He takes in a few deep breaths, inhales, before muttering, “It’s still not your fault. It will never be. Don’t blame Creed’s problems on yourself, okay?”

Things seem so much more believable when Kenny says it. The doubt that’s been gnawing away at her self esteem stops, if only for this moment, to let Marjorine breathe in his scent. “…Alright.”

Kenny gives her a smile, tucks her hair behind her ear. “Close your eyes.”

Wordlessly, she does it. She feels Kenny’s presence backtrack, followed by a string of noises that sounded a lot like dishes flashing and drawers opening. Whatever he’s been cooking smells amazing.

“Open them on one, two, three!”

In front of her was a platter of fried rice and an omelet. Marjorine’s mouth stretched wide into a smile. “You remembered.”

“Course’ I did.” Kenny nodded.

Back in South Park, the both of them would go to City Wok purely for the reasons that Marjorine adored their fried rice. And while Kenny wasn’t exactly a fan of anything Tuong Lu Kim made, he would still go with her and sit in the restaurant regardless. Just a week ago, she told him she missed his fried rice and the big, fluffy omelet.

Kenny pulls another bar stool to sit in front of her, focused on her first bite. “How is it?”

“Incredible.” Marjorine hummed. It’s not quite like the one from City Wok, but it’s delicious nonetheless.

“I took a basic recipe and tried to tweak it based off of the times I had it.” Kenny explained. Marjorine giggled.

“You mean all the times ya took a bite out of my plate when you thought I was distracted.”

Holding his hands up as if hes been caught red handed, Kenny amended, “I’ll let you know that the majority was you feeding me.”

A laugh bursted from her, she shook her head. That was true.

Kenny gets up from his seat while Marjorine continues to eat. When he comes back and sits down, it’s with a glass of ice cold water. Thank you, she told him. Kenny simply nodded and then dabbed the side of her mouth with a napkin.

She feels the air shift before he even said anything; a certain unmissable tension.

“…Marj, why do you like that guy? I mean, I know he’s decent looking and in Phi Delt, but how far can that go when he acts like he’s five-years old?” He shot her a coy look.

His wording nearly made her wince. Kenny wasn’t the biggest fan of Creed; had never been even before they officially met. “He opens doors for me and checks up on me. When I look nice, he tells me so.”

“That’s the bare minimum.” Kenny scoffed.

Should she tell him the main reason? Yes. It’s Kenny. “He…He likes me.”

“Okay?”

He doesn’t get it. Marjorine will just have to say it upright. “I like him because he likes me.”

Not only was Creed a vastly talented person who was bound for great things, but he is also the only person who showed interest in Marjorine. He treated her like she was special, not someone to be forgotten or lose in the background.

It takes a while for Kenny to process this. When he does, his eyebrows scrunches up with disbelief as he states, “A ton of guys like you.”

Marj set down her spoon, gives Kenny an unamused ook. “What guys are ya talkin’ about?”

“80% of the male population in South Park!” Kenny exclaimed, throwing his hands to make a point. Marjorine shakes her head and continues eating.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not. Marjorine, if it wasn’t for me, a hundred dudes would’ve come up to you and asked you out daily.”

“What do you have to do with it?”

Something akin to guilt flits through Kenny’s face, so fast Marjorine barely caught it. “They were afraid of me. Thought we were dating.”

“They did?”

Kenny nodded.

That was perhaps the most unbelievable thing Marjorine had heard all night. No, of all time. Sure strangers thought they were together, but they were strangers. South Park was so tight knit everyone knew each others grandma grandma’s—so they should’ve known better then to ever think someone like Kenny would ever go out with Marjorine of all people.

“Whatever gave them that idea?” She splutters.

“Yeah,” Lips pulled into a thin tight, Kenny was still refusing to meet her eyes. “good question.”

There’s a lull in their conversation. Kenny seemingly now has nothing to say. Marjorine squared her shoulders and prepares to defend her boyfriend, because that is what a good girlfriend would do.

“Creed isn’t always the best, yes. He certainly has his off days. But most of the time, he’s very kind to me. Just last Saturday he introduced me to his friends as his ‘precious.”

It was a special day for them, a good day, so long as Marjorine ignored how he left her standing at the corner for two hours. He claimed he didn’t forget about her, but Marjorine swore she almost see him leave.

Kenny made a face like he just ate something sour. “What is he, fifty? The Granny from Ice Age?”

“I thought it was very sweet.” Marjorine huffed.

Kenny drops his face into his hands. Marjorine knows that whenever he does that, it means he’s nearing his limit. He’s either frustrated and doesn’t know what to do, or he’s upset and doesn’t want anyone to see. Sometimes it could be both, most of the time it is. “I think—I know you could do better. He’s not the guy for you, Marjorine. No way in fucking hell.”

Better, Kenny said it so firmly, as if it was really that simple. But what was better then Creed Mossic, who treated her like a dime in a dozen. Who, despite the fact that he was set to inherit his father’s company, still chose Marjorine—a nobody? Someone their own parents couldn’t love?

“You mean you?" She asked in a way it sounded like a joke, with a hint of a chuckle, but she was picking at her fingernails and pulling at dry skin around her cuticles.

"No," Kenny said, stiffened and poker-faced. "I mean better.”

They fall into silence before Marjorine asked, because apparently they are being utterly open about their relationships now, “What about you and Bernie? Why are you dating her?”

A pause. “She’s fun.”

“Fun? How so?”

“She likes to…party?”

“You don’t sound too sure of that.”

“We’re not talking about me right now.” Kenny waved her off. They’ve been together for so long that Marjorine knows that just means he doesn’t want to answer. “I’m just saying you deserve better then some pencil dick fuck who can’t make you cum and treats you average. Because just average isn’t enough for a girl like you. You deserve world class. Like a prince from those fairytales you like.”

Something warm spreads through Marjorine’s body, from the delight of knowing how well Kenny knew her, to seeing the conviction he held on what Marjorine deserves. Kenny probably expected everyone to treat her like he did; with the utmost care and affection, gentleness but not fragility. Sadly, that wasn’t how the world worked.

“Fairytales ain’t real.” She learned that the hard way.

Kenny almost looked sad. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean your life should be an Edgar Allen Poe book.”

“It is not!” Marjorine exclaimed, horrified. “He ain’t as bad as it seems! Besides, I can live with the bad s-sex. I could handle bad sex for as long as I live!”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Kenny said firmly, before he makes a face and adds, “And you’re not spending the rest of your life with this dude. So this is only a temporary problem, but still.

“Ya sound so sure.” Marjorine said. Kenny lips tilt up into something that isn’t quite a smile or a complete frown either.

“That’s because I am.”

[purplesurveys]

1656

A) What does the last text you sent say? And to whom? Anyone who still reads this already knows at this point that I hate checking my texts, so I’ll use my Messenger history instead – last message I sent was “People pt. 2 live perf!” to Angela and Reena.

B) What does the last text you recieved say? And from whom?  “Woozi also reposted” from Reena in our groupchat as a reply to Angela who was sharing that SVT Hoshi posted about People pt 2.

C) What time do you wake up most mornings?  My body clock has slightly shifted recently, waking me up at 6 AM.

D) Are you afraid of walking alone at night? Yes, I will very very rarely do so.

E) What do you do to relax at the end of a stressful day? I just immediately go on YouTube and click autoplay on any one of my favorite channels. Background noise calms me down more than anything.

F) Where did your last kiss take place and with whom?  It was with my partner at the time, right outside my house if I’m not mistaken.

G) Do/did you get into trouble a lot at school?  Never did. I never liked to make my presence known in school in general; meaning to say I didn’t get in trouble, and I never recited or asked questions either.

H) Do you enjoy your job? If unemployed, are you content being so?  I’m content and I’m continuing to learn, I’ll say that much.

I) Do you often pick up on double entendres and innuendos?  Sure.

J) Have you ever been offered drugs but declined?  I will occasionally get offered the brownie kind but have always said no.

K) Have you ever met someone who has completely altered your way of thinking?  Not met, just encountered. BTS turned my life entirely for the better starting 2021 and I’ve adopted much better and healthier ways of thinking since then.

L) Have you ever been offered drugs and accepted?  Once.

M) Tell us something weird that turns you on.  Smoking is a gross habit but people look good doing it, lmao.

N) When did someone last admit romantic or sexual feelings for you? Was the feeling mutual?  Years ago, and yep.

O) What is something you have given a lot of thought to lately?  Mostly just worrying about the Yoongi concert and wanting to make sure all 4 of us get to attend.

P) When did you last swallow your beliefs to avoid an argument or confrontation?  A few weeks ago when my mom forced me to put a jacket on because she believed my top was too ‘short.’

Q) Do you usually initiate hugs?  Depends on the person. I will only do this with close friends.

R) Are you a very affectionate person?  Only with Angela.

S) Can you roll your own cigarettes?  Nope.

T) What are you looking forward to?  My birthday, which also happens to be the same day as D-DAY drop!

U) Do you have any tattoos. Do you want any/more?  I don’t have any. I have a couple designs in mind but don’t really have any plans to act on them because...needles.

V) Are you mentally strong?  For the most part.

W) Are you physically strong?  Nah.

X) Do you think you’re a good person?  I try to be.

Y) Name one thing you wish you could change about your life right now.  I WISH ALL OF US HAD THE DAMN TICKETS

Z) What do you usually eat for breakfast?  I prepare a cup of coffee and that’s it.

[darkwaveho]

PLS A DRABBLE 🙏🙏

it seems like years ago 😭

it's your fault for making such a good fanfic 💔

Favors

Lessons

Summary: Wanda teaches her special girl how to perfect a blunt.

Parings: Stoner!Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: Drug use, fluff, suggestive themes, mentions of sex.

A/n: this is not proofread, and I didn’t go into too much detail with the process of rolling a blunt bc I’m lazy at the moment. we’ll get more moments with Wanda and R doing stoner buddy girlfriend things tho <3

You sat on the floor in front of Wanda’s couch. She had everything laid out in front of you ready to show you how to properly roll a blunt. You weren’t dumb to doing it, you just never smoked as frequently as everyone else did and Wanda’s blunt was just different. You actually wanted to start off with joints, but Wanda said that it would be more complicated for you to deal with the fragile paper, so for now you start with blunts. “Okay, you ready to learn how to make a perfect spliff?” You hum as Wanda takes her seat behind you. Her front pressed to your back. Legs spread out against yours. “What’s step one baby.” You search the table and reach for the grinder. 

“I have to break it down.” She pecks your neck. “Good job, now what’s next?” She rubs her fingertips against your stomach patiently waiting for your answer. “Get rid of the tobacco inside of the cigar.” 

“You’re doing great Princess.” You grab the small knife splitting the cigar down the middle carefully. You’re cautious about ripping the blunt or adding extra cuts that didn’t need to be there. You push the tobacco out onto the table with your finger. you move your hand to explore around the table curious of everything that your girlfriend used on a daily. it’s when you reach for a wax like substance that she then taps your hand. “Ouch!” you hiss and turn around to face her. “What was that for?” Wanda tuts at your outburst. “You’re not supposed to be touching that.” you roll your eyes in annoyance. “What is it anyway?” 

“It’s wax, you definitely don’t need it.” 

“Why is that?” 

“You’ll be high as shit and you’re not ready for that, my love.” you didn’t appreciate her telling you what you could and could not do but she was just looking out for you. she was helping you take baby steps into this realm of the devils green. it was sweet and admirable. she kisses your frown away. “Don’t be like that, I just don’t want you freaking out because you took on more than you could handle. okay?” she turns your face towards her as she gently holds your chin. “Okay.” you nod and agree with her ending it with a quick kiss and you go back to cleaning out the cigar thoroughly.

Once you’ve done that step you slightly turn your face towards Wanda. You break down the nuggets of weed finally placing it into the grinder. “You need to wet the blunt.” You pick it up from the tray on the table dragging your tongue across the flavored cigar. Wanda gets sidetracked just from the sight of you doing that. Seems like she was stuck for far too long because you nudge her shoulder after a while. “You okay Wands?” She snaps her eyes up to meet yours and clears her throat. “Mmhm, now you just pour a little bit of this in there.” she hands you a small tube of golden liquid. “What’s this?” you pinch your brows. 

“It’s honey. Thc honey. I always use it, that’s what makes my blunts top tier beside the way I roll.” she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. “Well, damn do they have Thc for everything?” she laughs at your complaint. “Well, maybe I’ll take you to the dispensary with me and you can see all the goodies they have.” she places her lips to the shell of your ear. “You know they have other sexy things in there too, maybe this time you can pick out some new lube.”  you bite your lips to contain the sound from escaping your lips. 

“Stop getting off track.” 

“Fine.” she playfully pouts and says you’ll be discussing this after she’s finished with the lesson. “Add the weed into the blunt and start carefully rolling, princess.” You do as instructed but ask for Wanda to roll with you. Once you’re done rolling the blunt you take the lighter and gently run the flame against the slit of the blunt. It’s for extra precaution just to keep the blunt intact. 

“All done?” You hold the blunt up admiring it. Wanda smiles in adoration. She never would’ve thought just teaching and watching you roll a blunt would have her so smitten but let’s be honest anything you did had her head over hill for you.

“Not quite, my love.” She taps your thigh signaling for you to get up. She leads you into the kitchen and turns on her conventional oven. You stare at her in confusion as to why she needed the oven on. “Uh, what are you doing?” She giggles. “I like to put my blunts in the oven for a bit.” She says and shrugs her shoulders. She holds the door open for you to place the blunt inside. She doesn’t keep it in there long no one likes a dried and brittle blunt. She takes it out and leads you back to the living room by the couch. 

“What’s next?” You ask. “Now, I want your pretty little lips on my blunt.” She smirks. “Your blunt? I did all the work.” Wanda finds your reaction amusing. you narrow your eyes at her before switching gears completely. dropping your voice a few octaves just to tease her. “Why not put your sexy lips on my blunt?” You straddle her lap and graze her lips with the end of the blunt. she parts them for you. 

“I did all this work just for you mommy.” Wanda grips your thighs trying to hold herself back from pouncing on you. you lean forward. “I practically licked every inch of this blunt, don’t you want a taste?” Wanda looks up at you wide eyed and releases a horsed growl in response. you giggle and playfully nip at her lip just before you place the blunt between her lips and finally light it. with the way she was looking at you right now, she was most definitely going to rail you into the early morning. Wanda was for sure going to find a list of things to teach you after this lesson.