#one day my Products will take off. take off running into the arms of customers

[bitchface24-7]

I'm currently working my way through your everything with Arcane and I'm in love T.T

I was wondering if I could submit a Jayvik x Reader thing but pre-relationship? Reader is a hella shortstack, runs the local bakery, and is always making her two favorites try her new recipes. "After all, the way to a man's heart is through their stomach!" Is a phrase she lived by and is DEFINITELY employing with these two.

THE WAY TO A MANS HEART - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you own a small bakery that's been kicking up in popularity. Many citizens love your cooking, your baking, and your drinks; two patrons especially love your work. Good thing they're your favourites.

warnings: fluff, flirting, flusteredness, pre-relationship, caring and spoiling our two boys

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. One of the ways I show I care for people is cooking/feeding/taking care of them. So this was a great submission. Time to make it our goal to spoil these men

Sales are booming, your bakery is popular, and everyday is a new adventure. You’re very thankful that you’re living the life of your dreams. You’re your own boss, you have amazing co-workers, you wake up when you want to, and you get to bake to your hearts content.

You also get to see two very attractive men almost every day, the Hextech duo Jayce and Viktor.

God, they make working even sweeter than your pastries. They're both gorgeous, even with their different attributes. Viktor is lean, lithe, and long-legged. Sharp facial features, smouldering eyes, and fluffy hair. Jayce is robust, tall, broad, with puppy dog eyes, and the cutest gap between his teeth.

You haven't had much time in your life to date, you've made it your life’s mission to open up your bakery, and now that that's happened, you don't really know what to do.

But they make your heart flutter, your face heat up, and honestly, they take up most space in your thoughts and dreams. So you've taken to using some well-known advice, advice we've all heard once in our lives;

The key to a man's heart is through his stomach.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Another day, another dollar, especially when you hear the small tinkling of the bell above your bakery’s entrance.

Except these two customers get products on the house, even if they stuff the tip jar, or hide money in the fake plants scattered around the store.

The rhythmic thud of a cane and boisterous conversation give away who just came into your shop, it's Jayce and Viktor, how dearly you've missed them.

You whip around with a beaming grin, unable to hold back your excitement at seeing them.

“My boys! How're you doing today?” You say excitedly, a tray of pastries in your hand. The two men lightly smile at your excitement. Usually nowadays, people only want to talk to them about their work, how to climb the social ladder.

Not you.

You like talking and being around them for just being them. And they can't help but love you for it.

All the goodies and treats you make for them have officially gotten them wrapped around your finger. They're eating healthy, delicious meals, it's helped them with their attention span, their intelligence, hell it's even helped their sleep schedule.

“We’re doing well sweetheart. What about you?” Jayce teases as he leans against the counter, the muscles in his arm lightly flexed. You purse your lips lightly as you eye the handsome tan man. Viktor sniffs a small laugh at Jayce’s obvious flirtation.

Your voice is riddled with affection as you giggle, “I’m good. What about you two? How are the two most handsome men in all of Piltover doing?”

Jayce's face flusters deeply as he choked on an inhale at your blatant flirtation. You laugh heartily and Viktor just looks at the two of you fondly, “We’re good, until you attempted murder on my partner.”

“Shut up Viktor”

“Am I wrong?”

The two bicker a bit as you place the tray down and take the two best pastries off the tray to give to your two boys. Their argument stops when you casually place the sweets in front of them, alongside a sweet milk for Viktor and a lightly sweetened coffee for Jayce.

The two immediately grab their goods like little rats and indulge themselves in your talents and skill. They look like they're in heaven as they eat.

“How are you so good at this?!” Jayce asks, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, good thing he's cute, “My momma always told me the quickest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. I'm using her advice to get what I want.”

You wink over your shoulder as you go to leave the front of the store to take the tray to the back, in doing so you don't see Jayce too stunned to eat as Viktor casually sips on his sweet milk, “They don't see us like that, hmm?”

Jayce elbows Viktor lightly, a small grimace on his face, “Oh my god shut up.”

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

“I know, I know…”

“So… when’re we going to confess?”

At Viktor's question, Jayce looks to his partner and smiles, shifting his gaze to the backroom you just disappeared into, “Soon. Very soon.”

Viktor nods, “Good. I'd hate for someone to come out of nowhere and snatch them up.”

Jayce sputters and Viktor just casually continues to eat his pastry and sip his sweet milk.

He knows the best way to get what he wants. His momma taught him as well.

And he knows the best way to get what he wants out of Jayce is to get under his skin a little. Maybe now, he'll finally get the two people he's been mooning over.

Soon. Very soon.

Thank god. He's been getting impatient.

Oh I’d love to spoil them, they deserve it after everything they went through! My poor boys 😭

[bugwithblog]

Hello Humbug!! Why does Spamton call you a companion for life? :0

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x tattoo artist!jjk

— summary | jungkook’s still closing up after a long day of work. she went to his shop right after work and she was drained. luckily jungkook was just the right one to cheer her up

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, just sex lol

— word count | 1.3k words

— song suggestion | put it on me — austin mahone

Jungkook had been working at the shop all day. All sorts of clients going in and out of his shop.

His employees had already gone home a while ago. He was still closing up for the night.

He was exhausted and drained. He just wanted to see his girl, though she had never left his mind through his shift.

The clock had just struck 12pm and JK’s Ink Lounge had finally closed up for the night. It was late, and she was barely getting off work around the same time as well.

He hadn’t seen her since last night because of their busy schedules.

She was a nurse and would work insane hours at the clinic. The two hadn’t had a work break in quite some time.

A knock was heard on the locked door of the shop. “We’re closed!” Jungkook called out before looking at the door, realizing it was actually his girlfriend, not a customer.

“Oh shit.” He cursed to himself, getting out and unlocking the door for her.

Jungkook's face lights up when he sees her enter his shop.

“Sorry baby. I forgot my key.” She apologized, pecking her boyfriend’s lips.

“It’s okay beautiful. What made you come here? Aren’t you tired? I thought you were at home.” He asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Wanted to see my boo.” She hummed. “Never get to really see you anymore.”

He exhaled, “Yeah I know.”

“I got dropped tonight so I thought my lovely boyfriend would pick us up dinner on the way home.” She fluttered her lashes cutely.

“Anything for my baby.”

“I’ll help you close. Just do your online stuff and I’ll clean.” Y/n walked to the front desk, setting her purse down.

“No no baby.” Jungkook stopped her. “You gotta be tired Y/n. I don’t want to do that to you.”

“It’s not that bad baby.” She chuckled, grabbing some cleaning products to properly prep the studio. “I want to help you.”

Y/n could almost run the studio on her own. She knew everything and was more than willing to help her man out.

“You’re so amazing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”

“No rush.” She shook her head, getting straight to cleaning.

The two worked on the closing duties, making sure every part of the studio was ready for tomorrow.

“How was work today baby?”

“It was okay.” Y/n shrugged. “I’m so drained.” She complained, taking a seat on his lap.

Jungkook immediately notices her drained expression, and his face falls. He pulls her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "What happened, mama?"

“Short staffed again so I was kinda irritated.” She sighed.

He sighs softly, understanding her fatigue all too well. "You know I'm here for you, mama. Always."

His thumb gently strokes the side of her face, trying to ease her stress. "Why don't you let me take care of you for once?"

“Mm no. It’s my job to take care of you.” She protested.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "That's my job, mama. You're too tired to argue, and I can tell you need some pampering."

“You’re so hard working baby. You’re better than me because you can take so much.” He hummed. “Sorry about your day baby.”

His thumb gently traces the outline her lips, before gently kissing them. "Let me take care of you tonight.

“Please.” She gave in, “I need it.”

"You're too beautiful to say no to." He carries her to a guest futon and sits down with her, his arm around her waist as he kisses her once again.

He groans softly, kissing her deeper and harder as his hands begin to roam her body.

"You know what I'm thinking about, pretty?" He whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against it. "I can't wait much longer. I was fucking trying to wait until we got home but— shit I can’t.”

“So fucking pretty” He whispered.

He begins to undress her, kissing every exposed inch of skin.

“Been wanting this for so long.” She spoke, “We never have time anymore.”

He groans as he hears that, his hands cupping her ass as he her you closer to him.

"Fuck I know pretty. I've wanted it just as bad you have no idea.” He lifts her up and positions himself before lowering her onto him.

“Haven’t seen you in so long.” She mumbled. “Haven’t touched you in forever.”

He nods in agreement as he thrusts up in her. "I know, baby. I've missed this too." His hands roam her body, touching every inch of it as he whispers sweet things to her.

"I love you, mama. You're so fucking beautiful." He croaked out.

His hands travel down her body and between her legs, rubbing her in just the right spot as he watches her with lust-filled eyes.

“Mm” She hummed.

Jungkook’s eyes darken at her soft moans as he leans in closer. "Do you want me to fuck you now, baby?"

He whispers hotly in your ear before nipping at her earlobe. "Because I want to fuck you so fucking bad right now. Just say the word.”

“Jungkook please. Want this so bad.” She whimpered

He growls at her whines, pulling out of her before flipping her over and pushing back into her. "Like this, baby?"

His hips piston in and out of her as he holds onto her hips, tugging her back into him as he thrusts forward.

“Fuck Jungkook— yes.”

He smirks as he listens to her pleas for more.

"Yes, baby?" He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough?"

He moans at her words, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Yeah, baby. You like when I fuck you rough like this hm? You're such a good girl for me."

He bites down on her shoulder as he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “So good for me.”

He smirks against her skin, feeling her getting closer to her release.

"That's right, baby. Cum for me. I wanna hear you scream my name." He thrusts into her a few more times before reaching down and starting to rub her clit furiously.

Her legs were shaking and her body was reacting all too well to his touch.

Jungkook was reaching his orgasm as well, trying to chase it with hers.

“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined.

He groans at her words, feeling himself getting closer to his own release. "Yeah, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock."

He thrusts into her as hard as he can, triggering her orgasm. "Fuck” Jungkook cursed.

“Feels so good— shit” she whimpered.

He growls at her words, feeling himself getting even closer to his release. "Yeah? Mm gonna cum all inside this pussy."

He thrusts into her a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore and cums inside her with a loud groan, filling her up.

“Shitttt” She panted, looking at how messy her pussy was because of them.

He pants hard, his forehead resting against hers as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, baby. You felt so fucking good."

He smirks and kisses her lips gently. "Thank you, you always let me fuck you so good."

“Anything for you my love.” She giggled. “I can’t believe we had sex in here again.”

He lets out a chuckle, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it though. Everytime you walk in here I know I’m done for."

He smirks and kisses her again. "You always make me so excited.”

“You’re just lucky I can’t resist.” She laughed. “Let’s clean now so we can go get food. I’m fucking starving.”

He nods. "Yeah, let's clean up. My stomach is killing me." He pulls out of you and helps clean her up.

“I’m not done with you once we’re home.” He mumbled. “Once that food in my system I’m ready to go.”

“You can’t be serious.” She laughed.

[eloquentlytired]

18+ NSFW. MDNI.

fisherman! logan howlett x older! reader

word count: a lot

warning(s): smut, build up to smut, logan is 30 while the reader is in her 40s ( u choose how much ), cheating, logan is smitten with his beloved customer, reader has a daughter, and logan calls the reader mama sometimes bc she is indeed the best mama, reader’s husband is a dckhead if it makes u feel better, mentions of neglect and shitty behavior ( from husband ), but logan makes everything better, I LOWKEY LOVED WRITING THIS

note: I haven't written for older!reader before but I hope I didn't disappoint you my beloved anon! In the meantime I hope everyone enjoys reading this one if YES pls interact it'd make me happy🩷🥰 thank you always for the support !!!

There's nothing that makes Logan happier than doing the work he likes. It's a blessing to have found a small area he's fond of and an even bigger blessing to help out customers. Or to help you specifically.

Logan sees you for the first time when he opens the fish shop — it's the first one to open after the old one has shut down. You greet him with the sweetest smile while your daughter holds your hand.

“Good morning.” You tell him so kindly and your smile turns out to be contagious because Logan returns it instantly.

You ask him about his life and how he's ended up in this place while Logan prepares your groceries. He tells you but purposely leaves some things out of the way. It isn't wise of him to talk about his mutant abilities either way, he wouldn't want to scare you.

He finishes your order purposely slow but you don't tell him off, you don't even reprimand him for it. You smile and wave him off — and your sweet daughter does too.

After that he sees you many times. If he was a fool he'd assume that your diet is mostly sea food but no — Logan has caught on. And you have caught on his stares in return.

“My husband likes this but I much prefer tuna. I'm not sure why.” You tell him as you scan the new products he's stuffed his shop with.

Logan nods.

“Tuna is the best in my opinion.” He says.

“You really think so?” The way your eyes sparkle when you ask him, happy to just share something common with another person.

Logan is an absolute loser— “I really think so.” —and he actually despises tuna.

It's raining heavily when you enter his shop one day, drenched from head to toe. You're shivering while your hands are filled with shopping bags, making your shoulders fall because of the weight. Logan rushes to you — he was about to close up but it doesn't matter anymore — and takes the bags from your hands, stacking them on the counter of his shop.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him softly and Logan can hear the regret in your tone. “I know I shouldn't have come so late. I was trying to stack up the fridge because of the incoming storm. And I've left my daughter in the house alone too, my husband wouldn't pick up the phone—” He's heard that one before from you surely. The bastard.

You stop talking when Logan is suddenly by your side, wrapping a blanket around your shivering body. Your eyes meet and Logan prays that he stays sane through it all. Promises he hasn't noticed the way your long dress has become one with your skin or how the little mascara you've worn has run down your cheeks. Yet you look flawless to him.

“Hey.” Logan calls your name softly and you wonder when it's the last time you've heard someone say it like that, in that loving tone.

Logan doesn't speak your name to order you around to do his laundry or his food. Or the dishes. Or the chores. Or the gardening. Or...

His palm is warm when it settles on your shoulder and it pulls you off your trance. He's kind with his touch and with his gaze — Logan always has been with you. “I’ve got you.” He mutters and you break down in his arms.

Moments later, he's dragged you into the back of the shop and you sit on top of a counter wearing his clothes, sweatpants and a sweater, which barely fit. Logan is big— really big.

“I look ridiculous.” You say with a small chuckle but Logan's eyes regard you differently as he cooks. For you.

“You look perfect.” He whispers and it makes you freeze a little, makes you question everything that the golden ring around your finger stands for.

He notices, of course he does, but he doesn't mention it. Hell, Logan doesn't even think he cares when your husband is the way he is.

“Tell you what.” He suddenly says breaking the long silence. His hands move swiftly as he finishes preparing a giant portion of tuna and rice. You watch as he places the food in tupperware, counting the little boxes. “This is big enough to feed three people and coincidentally—” Both of you smile at the last word. “— we are two. And your daughter is one more, isn't she?”

Your heart beats fast within your chest and your tears prickle your eyes. It's perfect. It's too good to be true.

“I would hate for this food to go to waste and I'm sure the two of you are starving.” You watch him as he uses one hand to hold the food bag and the other to carry your other six shopping bags.

You move forward, hands reaching out so you can help him but Logan tuts instead and uses his knee to keep you back.

“I dare you.” He grumbles playfully and you nearly shudder because of the way he says it.

“You should respect your elders, Logan.” You manage to say between heavy breaths but all Logan does is feel amused.

He grins, then takes a step closer and you momentarily lose air when he leans too close. “Careful, mama. I wouldn't want you to be late.”

You stare at him still processing his words as he walks away to start his car. The ring around your finger feels weightless.

The dinner is good and you can't register a time when both you and your daughter have laughed so hard before. Dinner is usually dull, especially with your husband around, but you didn't even miss the good old times anymore. They were always overshadowed by the bad ones.

You watch as Logan plays with your daughter and your heart secretly flutters. Yearns for a different life than the one you have right now.

But it's too late, you think, and Logan could still build a good life with someone his age. Why would you even destroy that when he's been so good to you?

But then Logan turns to you and begins to talk. I'll do the dishes, don't you dare move. Stop thinking so much, you'll hurt your pretty mind. What a lucky girl to have a mama like this one.

So that's why you can't let go.

Your daughter is fast asleep. Husband nowhere in sight. No answers, no nothing.

Logan watches you from where he's doing the dishes, sitting on the couch and looking outside. You've drawn the curtains open to watch the rain. It's worrisome weather but it somehow soothes you.

“You worried about him?” Logan suddenly asks, taking you by surprise.

“I should be but I..” You shake your head and leave it at that. Logan understands.

There's more silence but it's not uncomfortable. There's no such word when Logan is around you, taking care of you. He wraps it up with the dishes and heads over to your stereo, fidgeting with it to find a signal.

“It won't work, Lo. Leave it.” You tell him softly and the petname makes him want to drop dead. In a good way of course.

Logan doesn't listen — he searches and searches. Then he finds it and turns to you with a wide grin in his face as if expecting some sort of praise.

Instead, he walks to you while the unknown beat of jazz fills the living room and offers you his hand.

“I don't think we should..” Your voice trails off when Logan doesn't budge. He simply won't.

You take his hand as he pulls you to the center of the room and slides an arm around your waist being so carefully. You rest your hand on his shoulder while your other two intertwine.

He sways with you and you sway with him. There's rhythm, there's harmony. There's something there you haven't had for over a decade and although Logan could have anybody else in this world, he looks most content there. With you.

“There are many people out there for you.” You begin to say as he leans his head closer to yours.

He doesn't reply so you insist.

“People your age. As old as you are—” Logan spins you around and then presses his chest against your back. You're somehow all over him, moving against him.

Both of his hands move to your waist and Logan takes the courage to press his lips against the spot behind your ear.

“I hate tuna.” Logan mumbles, his voice raspy and filled with need. His next actions shock you as he slides one of his hands over yours and strokes over your wedding ring. Logan grips it, removes it and lifts it to your eye level. “But I hate this more.”

The moment he tosses it away, he turns you around and his eyes speak so many things. Need. Desperation. Love. Struggle.

“Wear it back and I'll leave. Don't—” He swallows nervously. “—and I'll make you happy, mama. I swear I will.” But you've never doubted that for a second.

You stare at the carpet, at that little golden band shimmering somewhere. Then back at Logan.

“I’ll hold you back. You'll get bored with me, of me. Having me and my daughter— you won't—”

Logan kisses you because he can't stand listening. But he also can't stand holding back anymore.

The surprise is momentary as you squeeze your arms around his shoulders, struggling to fit all of him into a hug. Logan surprises you more when he uses a single arm to pick you up by your hips, your legs instinctively locking around his waist.

“Lo—”

You're more desperate than he is and for so many different reasons. He carries you to the nearest efficient surface — the dining table — and sits you there carefully.

Your eyes lock for a moment as Logan steals another kiss from you. “You want the ring?” He asks and you almost laugh. Fuck the ring.

You're the one who initiates the next kiss, tilting your head to deepen the action. Your hands tremble with excitement, Logan's tremble because he's never touched such a beautiful woman before in his entire life. His woman.

He's quick with your his clothes although a little messy. You can feel his excitement but also his nerves shifting as he reaches for your bra next, struggling to take it off.

“Easy.” You whisper against his lips and Logan is surely dead, must be dreaming. The hook never comes off because Logan rips the front of your bra with his bare hands and disregards it like it's nothing.

You can feel yourself physically react, cunt clenching around nothing although you want it to be around him. Now.

He's right here, your arms wrapped around his head as Logan takes a bud into his mouth and sucks. You react by whimpering softly and Logan sucks harder as his hand occupies your other breast, fondling it within his fingers.

The attention on your chest makes you weak, you love it. You're sensitive, he murmurs before grazing your nipple with his teeth. “I need more.” You find the courage to tell him and Logan nods because so does he.

His fingers grip your panties and rip it too — he has no control over that. It's like a primal urge to do it.

“How long?” Logan asks as he rubs two fingers across your cunt, parting your lips teasingly before releasing them. Every motion offers a wet noise from you. It's embarrassing.

“I don't remember.” You answer and it's all he needs to know to confirm about the failure your husband is.

You watch Logan drop to his knees. His eyes are blown wide with lust and his mouth parts as if starving. You realize what he wants and that he's been craving this moment since forever. The thought alone makes you shiver.

“I have never—” done this, you want to tell him but Logan let's his youth take over his reactions.

His hands are strong around your thighs, they're secure and sure. He won't drop you and you fucking know it as he guides your lower half over his face and sits you down hard.

Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth.

Logan mouths against your pussy before parting your folds with his tongue, dragging it high and low. Your hips shake and he flexes his fingers around your thighs, squeezing every skin he can get.

He licks everywhere. All of you.

His face gets buried into your weeping pussy as his nose grinds against your clit and his tongue circles your entrance teasingly slow. There's too much coming out of you, you're like an endless stream, and Logan isn't afraid to taste every drop.

It becomes worse when he distances you from the table and your legs dangle off the floor. You stare wide eyed because your only means of support is Logan's hands on your hips oh — and his face which has basically turned into your personal seat.

“Logan wait—” You yelp but your voice is muffled by your hands.

Logan doesn't listen, doesn't even pull away to breathe. The man is starved and there's only one thing he wants to achieve — to eat you whole.

You've given up trying to reason with him especially when he eats you out this way. You move your hips fast and are desperate to reach your peak. Logan's fingers tighten around your thighs as he guides your thrusts, moaning while you ride his face.

You bite your lip as you throw your head back and arch your entire body, thighs shaking around Logan's head. He wiggles his tongue against your clit as you orgasm, the stimulation of your bud making your entire body quiver.

He's got you, hands steadier than ever and keeping you safe, as you come.

When he slowly pulls you off, you look down at him but the concern melts away. You stare at his face and faint beard covered by your slick. It's not embarrassing anymore — it's different. You can't have enough.

The door of your marital bedroom is shut and locked firmly. Whatever shame or guilt you might have felt at the start, it doesn't exist anymore.

Your legs dangle on Logan's shoulders as he pounds you, his cock rummaging through your tight walls and hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Not like this.

His balls are heavy again and full of the load he wants to fill you with. But it's been hours like this and he hasn't stopped — Logan is something else.

“You think you can fit one more for me? Let me fill you up?” His lips brush against your ear and you shiver. You nod, lips fallen wide for sometime now and blabbering incoherent words. Logan only catches the more leaving your lips.

His hands keep your legs risen and over his shoulders as he fucks you, his balls smacking against your skin with each pound. They're covered in cum too because of how many times Logan has filled you, some of it pouring out.

It's too much but at the same time not nearly enough.

Your hands twist the bedsheets beneath you and you look at him — silently pleading with him to swallow your noises. Logan knows and his lips find yours, silencing you just in time as he comes again and pours his seed into you for the last time.

His heels dig against the bed because it's so intense as you squeeze around him and use one of your hands to toy with your over sensitive clit, feeling it all. Taking everything in.

“Logan.” You moan against the kisses and he grunts softly, swallowing every sound and word. You come around his cock with a shuddering gasp again and Logan releases your legs to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him.

Your hands move enough to grip his bare shoulders, scratching them.

“Ride it out. So good.” Logan pants while squeezing you by your waist, lying on his side and dragging you with him.

He guides your hip around him, letting his hand linger there as his cock softens within you.

“There she is.” Logan whispers, looking at you. Seeing you receiving pleasure is one thing but to witness your peaceful expression, looking so content and happy... How could Logan ever let go of that?

You grab a hold of the hand that caresses your thigh and bring it to your lips. Logan watches you as you kiss every space between and on top of his knuckles, eyes fluttering. Your gaze lingers and so does his.

“You know.” He states after a while, nose brushing against yours.

“I know.” You reply and his heart jumps a little; not knowing if it's good or bad that you've discovered his true nature. His mutant side.

You kiss him, slow and gentle.

“You’re beautiful.” Is the answer that slips out of your lips and Logan wants to take you all over again but he doesn't. It isn't his intention to break you in such little time — now is just the start.

His strong arms pull you close and he blindly reaches for something. A blanket. He covers you with it and when your eyes meet again, Logan nudges your nose with his.

“You’re so perfect.” He says, voice raspy per usual, and kisses your face. Your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. “Gonna fucking die for you. Kill too.”

Your heart fills with affection and love. Your worries and the demons keeping you away from him are long gone now — Logan is right there. He's chosen you like you've chosen him. There's only one thing left to do.

“You happen to have two spots open in your heart?” You ask him and Logan smiles — it's the widest smile you've ever seen from him.

He nods.

“Just two? We can make it more than that. If you want I'll make you a mama again right now—” He's blowing raspberries at your nape as you wiggle, supposedly trying to shake away from his grip. That hollow room is filled with laughter after years of dullness.

Like you've said.

There's only one thing left to do.

[sherewrytes]

Plug Kento Nanami

Plug Nanami: Who shows up on time, every time, dressed like he’s on his way to a party or club instead of making a drop-off, with perfectly rolled joints and not a single hair out of place.

Plug Nanami: Who never raises his voice but somehow manages to make you feel like you owe him more than just payment with that low, smooth tone of his.

Plug Nanami: Who refuses to let you short yourself, sliding a little extra into your bag with a soft, "Consider it a bonus for being such a loyal customer."

Plug Nanami: Who texts you after every transaction with, "Everything to your satisfaction?" like he’s taking customer service to a whole new level.

Plug Nanami: Who only ever stays for a quick chat, but the way he adjusts his glasses and lets his eyes linger on you a moment too long makes your heart race.

Plug Nanami: Who once showed up in the middle of a rainstorm, soaking wet but completely unbothered, handing over your pre-rolls with a deadpan, "You’re lucky I prioritize good clients."

Plug Nanami: Who has this effortless dominance about him, the kind that makes you want to do things just to see him smirk in approval.

Plug Nanami: Who caught you once in your oversized sweats and bonnet and still said, "You look good," like it was a fact, not a compliment.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t miss a beat when you flirt with him, offering a small chuckle before responding, "Careful now. I don’t mix business with pleasure… unless you’re willing to change my mind."

Plug Nanami: Who makes it very clear he’s not just your plug but also someone who notices everything, including when you’re stressed or looking run-down. "You need to take care of yourself," he says softly, slipping your favorite chocolate bar into your hand without a word.

Plug Nanami: Who’s always clean-cut, rocking a crisp white tee or a fitted hoodie, gold chain resting against his chest, looking more like a businessman than someone pushing product—but you know better.

Plug Nanami: Who runs his drops like clockwork, his Hellcat pulling up smooth and quiet. He leans out the window with a calm, "You good? Don’t keep me waiting too long."

Plug Nanami: Who surprises you with how he speaks—smooth, deliberate, but with just enough edge to make you sit up and pay attention. "You know I don’t do half measures, ma. You get the best from me, every time."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just drop off the bag—he stays a little longer, leaning against the doorframe with a calm confidence, arms crossed, giving you a look that says he knows exactly what’s on your mind.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t deal with nonsense, shutting down any funny business with a sharp, "Don’t play with my time." But with you? He’s always patient, his voice softening when he says, "Take your time. I’m in no rush."

Plug Nanami: Who tells you he doesn’t do freebies but somehow always slides you a little extra. "Just quality control," he smirks, though you know he’s lying.

Plug Nanami: Who keeps his stash on lock, never running out of the best strains, and every time you ask where he gets it, he just chuckles and says, "That’s my secret."

Plug Nanami: Who caught you once buying from someone else and didn’t say a word until his next drop-off. "Whatever they gave you? Trash. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you’re never disappointed again."

Plug Nanami: Who shows up in his car, windows cracked, bass low, smelling like clean cologne and a faint hint of weed. He smirks when he catches you looking. "You like the vibe, huh? I can give you more than just this."

Plug Nanami: Who noticed you peeking at his tattoos one time and rolled up his sleeve just enough to show them off. "Curious, huh? Maybe one day I’ll let you trace them yourself."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you try to flirt too hard, chuckles low and deep, leaning closer to whisper, "You know you’re trouble, right? Keep talking like that, and I might start making house calls for more than just business."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you ask why he pushes product when he clearly doesn’t need to, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes the best things come from unexpected places," before giving you that look that leaves you questioning who’s really in control.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t react when you tease him about being too refined for this game. Instead, he steps closer, his voice dropping. "Don’t let my look fool you, baby. I know exactly what I’m doing—and I know you love it."

Plug Nanami: Who caught you at a party once, surrounded by people you didn’t know, looking out of place. He walked right up to you, slid his arm around your waist, and whispered, "You good? Or you need me to remind you where you belong?"

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t hesitate to pull you aside when someone else tries to step to you, his tone cool but firm. "She’s with me. Don’t make me repeat myself."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you’re standing at the door in nothing but booty shorts and a cropped hoodie, doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sweep over you, his voice steady but rough. "You knew I was coming, and this is how you answer the door? You trying to start something, Y/N?"

Plug Nanami: Who stays calm when you playfully call him "Mr. Businessman," but steps closer, his broad shoulders towering over you as he murmurs, "Keep testing me, and I’ll show you just how serious I can be."

Plug Nanami: Who has this habit of brushing his fingers against yours when handing over your bag, just to see you react. And when you hesitate, he smirks. "What? You shy now? You weren’t shy last week when you were talking crazy to me."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you ask for recommendations, takes his time explaining the strains, his voice low and intimate like he’s telling you secrets no one else gets to hear. "This one’s for relaxing. But this one? This will have you feeling nice and warm. Could even help you sleep... if you’re alone."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t hide his jealousy when he spots you dancing with some random dude at the club again. He doesn’t make a scene—he doesn’t have to. One hard look from across the room, and he has you second-guessing every move.

Plug Nanami: Who waits for you by the bar, calm but commanding, sipping his drink like he owns the place. When you finally approach him, he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Was that supposed to make me jealous? 'Cause all it did was remind me who you’re really coming home to."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just say things to say them—when he tells you, "You’re mine," he says it with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race, his hand resting lightly on your waist like a promise.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t let you forget who’s in control. When you try to test him, he tilts his head, studying you with those sharp eyes before muttering, "Careful, Y/N. You don’t want to see what happens when I lose my patience."

Plug Nanami: Who, when he finally breaks that calm exterior, has you pinned against the couch, his hands firm on your thighs. His voice drops an octave as he says, "You think you can tease me and get away with it? Let me show you how wrong you are."

Plug Nanami: Who has you breathless by the time he’s done with you, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers, "Next time, don’t make me wait. You know I’m not good at sharing."

Plug Nanami: Who, even after all that, stays to clean up and roll another joint for you, his demeanor back to calm and collected as if nothing happened. He hands it to you with a small smirk. "Don’t say I never take care of you, ma."

Plug Nanami: Who always makes you feel special, even in the smallest ways—like when he leaves your place, pressing a kiss to your forehead before saying, "Stay out of trouble. I’ll be back when you need me."

Plug Nanami: Who, despite his smooth and professional vibe, lets his street-smart edge show when it matters. Like when he rolls up late at night after you text him about some dude getting too friendly at the bar. He leans against his car, arms crossed, his tone deadly calm. "You good? Or you need me to handle something?"

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t flinch when you ask why he’s so quiet during his drops. Instead, he gives you a slow, knowing smirk. "Why talk when I can let my actions speak for me? You like what I bring, don’t you?"

Plug Nanami: Who, after spotting you dancing with another guy at the club when your out with your friends one night, waits for you outside like he’s completely unbothered. But the second you walk up to him; his voice is sharp. "Next time you feel like playing games, make sure I’m the one who gets to win."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you tease him for his clean-cut image, throws it right back. "Don’t get it twisted, Y/N. Just because I dress like this doesn’t mean I can’t get dirty when I need to."

Plug Nanami: Who finally snaps one night after you keep pushing his buttons, pinning you against the wall, his lips grazing your ear as he growls, "You like testing me, huh? Let me show you why that’s a bad idea."

Plug Nanami: Who keeps his car spotless, but when you ride with him, lets you kick off your shoes and play your music, saying, "Don’t get used to this. You’re lucky I like you."

Plug Nanami: Who always gives you the best quality, but one night, he surprises you with a strain he says is "special order." When you ask why he’s letting you try it first, he shrugs casually. "Because I know you appreciate the finer things. Just like me."

Plug Nanami: Who never loses his cool but lets his territorial side show in subtle ways. Like the way he casually slips his arm around your waist when you’re out, his grip firm enough to make anyone watching back off.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just drop off weed—he becomes the only person you trust with your stash because everything he does is handled with precision. "You’re too good for anything less than perfect, Y/N," he says, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that makes you forget to breathe.

Plug Nanami: Who stays just long enough to remind you why he’s different. He doesn’t just pass the bag; he holds your gaze and leans in close, his voice low and deliberate. "Anything else you need tonight? You know I got you."

Plug Nanami: Who, after you’ve pushed him to his limit, leaves you breathless and spent, only to calmly adjust his hoodie and smirk down at you. "See? Told you not to test me."

Plug Nanami: Who, as he’s leaving, tosses a wrapped pre-roll on your table with a smirk. "That one’s on me. Thought you might need it after… all that.I'll be back later. I got another drop off"

[jaiden-zhou]

(1) casual iso <3

contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes

not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me

part 2, part 3

.

.

iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality

iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to

iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)

iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck

iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"

iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away

iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks

iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you

iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself

iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched

iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm

iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'

iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on

iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it

iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners

iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work

iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in

iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside

iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)

iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?

iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3

iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day

iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(

iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)

iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh

yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe

------

"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."

you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."

"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."

iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.

"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."

"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."

"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.

[takenbypeter]

Hi! Could you write a Hank McCoy x Reader fic with one of these dialogue prompts? (Whatever you feel like)

5. "God, you always make me blush so damn much." (Nicholas Hoult is always blushing so I thought it would be nice if Hank did as well)

23. "Wait...are you making pancakes? Can I help?" (He seems like the type of person who cooks)

25. "Have you been drinking enough water?" (He is a doctor)

I'm pretty sure I read every fic with him in this site and I want more.😂

Doctor’s Orders

Hank McCoy x reader

Number 25: “Have you been drinking enough water?”

(Reader is AFAB)

Hehe I couldn't decide so I did all of them, sorry it took so long, I went through like a no writing phase but I think I'm slowly returning

Sometimes you hated having a uterus. More specifically you hated it when it was that time of the month. How you hated even being born whenever that time hit and of course that was today. 

Instead of listening to your body and wallowing in pain as the cramps hit hard that morning, practically almost making you spit up your dinner from the night before, you put on your adult shoes and chose to be productive around the X-mansion as you usually did. 

Most days weren’t so bad, you’d help with the younger level kids here and there before you did some of your own training but today? Today they were rowdy for whatever reason, maybe the weather, all you knew was that you wanted this week to be done already. 

You tried your hardest to just be there, be present as you seemed to be running around all day at different peoples beck and call when all you really wanted to do was curl up and scream but of course that wasn’t like you. So you had to plaster a fake customer smile. But you could even barely do that anymore as halfway through the day you decided your body couldn’t take it anymore. So you went to the one place you knew no one would bother you. 

The labs. 

Most of the time it was just Hank in the labs and you of course didn’t want to bother him when he may be working but then again he was your boyfriend and you were in a lot of pain. So you went. 

You entered his labs slowly and peeking around the entrance, you saw that luckily he wasn’t dealing with any chemicals at the moment. 

“Thank god you’re working,” when he worked that meant everyone knew not to disturb him, well everyone but apparently you. 

His arms set down whatever thingamabob was in his hands, “please come in why don’t you?”

You did realize it was rude, “sorry,” you mumbled out as you backed up into the nearest corner and squatted down. With your knees to your stomach you instantly felt better even if only just a little. 

With your head tucked into your legs you could just feel the strange sight he most certainly had on you. “Don’t mind me…” you breathed as a big cramp just made its way, “just go about your way, I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“If you think I’m going to be able to focus while you’re scrunched up in the corner like that you’re absolutely crazy.”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice muffled.

You didn’t see it but you could tell Hank was staring at you. But he was staring at you not with disbelief more with worry. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“Nothing just got my period this morning, I’ll be fine.” Typically this only happened to you on maybe the first two days and usually you just toughed it out.

Suddenly an overwhelming cramp could be felt in your lower stomach area, you groaned as you leaned forward, your knees now against the floor with your forehead touching the floor “…just give me a moment,” you said, refusing to move from that spot with your arms clutching your body. 

“Have you been drinking enough water?”

Ugh. That question wouldn’t have annoyed you if the answer was yes. But it’s not your fault everyone seemed to need your help left and right. 

“Maybe half a bottle so far,” you said. 

His mouth drops, “that’s not nearly enough.”

“Yeah yeah, thank you doctor,” you cut off, still hurting.  

You don’t pay mind to the noise you hear shuffling before you see a bottle being held out towards you. 

You reach out, taking it with a thanks. “Wait here,” he commands before he turns around. Not like I have much choice, you thought as you closed your eyes again feeling a little bit better as the cramps randomly subside for a moment. 

Pretty soon you hear Hank’s footsteps come back and you begin to hear shuffling beside you. Curious, you open your eyes and watch as he sets down a blanket beside you. Then a makeshift pillow made out of a jacket. 

He didn’t even have to say anything and you moved there willingly. You didn’t care that the floor was hard underneath, you were just glad to lie down somewhere. 

While you lay there on your side feeling like garbage he hands you a warm heating pad which you gladly take and he moves the water bottle closer to you before he takes another blanket and covers you with it. 

“Drink your water and let your body take a break,” he adds. 

Once he makes sure you’re all settled his eyes catch yours as you lay with a smile on your face. 

“What?”

“You love me,” you sing-song almost like a kid would. 

Although a grin starts to tug at one of the corners of his lips he reaches out dragging his hand down your face closing your eyes in the process as you would a departed person. 

“Get some rest.”

Your eyes open again as you watch him leave your side to return back to his work. ‘He loves me,’ you teased once again in thought as you snuggled with the blanket and heating pad.

~

Dialogue Prompt #2

[20dollarlolita]

Hi! My sewing machine (Janome JS1004) lost its default extension table for lack of a better word, and I want a replacement but its a retired model so I'm worried about compatibility. I also don't quilt so I don't need the huge upgrade extensions, just a bit of wiggle room for mending and other basics. Is there anything avaliable or should I try to DIY?

Off the top of my head:

Sometimes you can get parts for old machines from places like SewingPartsOnline. I think it's generally called a "free arm cover," but the parts list for different brands tend to have crazy different names. I don't believe that's a model I could look up at work (and I'm off for the next couple days) so I don't know exactly what name to look under. I would not buy a part on an older machine like that from anyone who does not have it in stock. Sometimes Janome can send parts to people, but I know that they can take a while (my store's Janome foot wall is very sad because they're just not sending things).

If you have a ton of money, or want to feel like you saved a ton of money by DIYing something, a SewSteady Junior extension table is 11x15" and they custom cut those. It'd be an extension table, but not the big one people tend to think of when they think of a sewing extension table. Those run about $80.

A SewSteady table is a piece of really high-quality plexiglass, with the shape of the arm of the machine cut out on it, and with some height adjustable legs. They're a nice product and a good price for a custom cut thing, and they're made of plexiglass, which is hard to cut by yourself. However, it's not too difficult to make yourself a basic piece of plastic, cut like your sewing machine arm, with some little legs at the right height.

Some of my customers say they can't sew under stress and that they'll cry if they come into their sewing room and it doesn't feel professional. Some of my customers come in with a 40-lb piece of metal and go, "This is my machine. It only sews if it's plugged into one specific outlet and if you stop paying attention it will sew backwards and you need to punch it to make it go forward. I pulled it out of the trash and it's named Boris, and can I try all the brands of rolled hem feet on it to see if any of them work? because it's from a brand that only existed in the 1960's so I can't buy them now."

So if you don't need a precision cut piece of perfectly clear plexiglass, and you're okay with a nice piece of foamboard with a piece of plastic on top and some little wooden dowels where you stacked rubber bumpers until it's the right height, you can probably save about $80 on that.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Stereotypical: side story

The old man has just watched as his pas test creation walked of the apartment building. Ex dumb jock to the max. Dumb as a brick and as wrong as a bull. He clapped his hands together and grinned. He had plans for his final crew member at the construction site but had to find the right specimen for the job. He got in his mustang and drove off enjoying the wind in his stringy hair as he rode with the top down. He noticed he needed gas and pulled into the station. He was getting too old for this. At his age he was getting tired of these human contraptions that were just as demanding ad the people he created ! He got out of the car and made note of somebody the states he got from across the road. Being an old man man getting out of a car like this made the younger men jealous abs he just grinned showing his sharp teeth. But they couldn’t tell being so far away. He would see then soon enough when he was done with his construction workers. He pumped his gas and went into the gas station to pay. There was no one being the counter. He rang the bell several times but no one’s ever came to the counter to take his money. He could just be devilish abs drive off without paying but he wants to scope out the product that could be used if needed. Since no one was coming to the register he walked about the store. The only other person he seen was a man standing in the chip aisle with his arms crossed trying to make a decision on what he would be getting.

“My dear boy. Have you seen anyone working here ?” The old man asked catching the man off guard. Pulling his eyes from the chips he looked at the old man was shocked st first abs he seen the oldest man he’d ever seen right before. Stuttering he answered no. Then continued “ now that you mentioned it I havent seen anyone in here at all ….” The old man chuckled. And just clasped his hands together. “Well we’ll my dear boy. We have an issue then. You see I just got gas. But no way to pay. What do you do for work ?” The man was thrown off by this question. Abs was tanner if to respond when the old man just laughed and said “I know what you are ! You run this place!!” The man didn’t know what to think before he heard his stomach gurgling. “What’s….what going oooooooonnnn” he started to moan being brought to his hands and knees. His vision getting blurry as he felt a weird sensation. He felt as though he was sweeling. Everything went dark and did few moments the world didn’t exist. He felt warmer. He could smell the thick scent of cologne as if someone bathed in the stuff was near. He heard a bell chime several times and the old man was back at the counter. Hitting the bell and look right at him. “I don’t have all day. Are you gonna come up here and run this place or not!” The man didn’t know what to think as his body began to move on his own. Without him even doing anything. He lumbered to the front. Walking behind the counter in the small work space and took the man’s money. Right before the old man left he look cupped the man’s face in his hand “yes this suits you well. Now you just have to grow into you’re new role”. And as he walked out the man could feel his body changing more. He staggered to the bathroom. Feeling his body change. Hair growing in thick. And his muscles expanding. His lips puffing up and a thick beard growing across his face. A thick gut sticking out from his once thin frame as he took on all the characteristics of an Arab gas station owner. The final touches came as his skin darkened to a permanent tan. But the time his change was finished he was a walking stereotype of an Arab where he was just a slim Caucasian man moments before. And then he heard a bell ring again. And his body forced him to go take care of customers. After all, he was joe stuck running a shop. And he had a lot more growing to do to fit his new role.

November 11th, 2021 9:04pm stereotypical male transformation

[chaotic-on-main]

The Bakery | ModernAU One-Shot

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!OC

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff

☾ Author's note ➼ This was meant to be a drabble but then I couldn't stop writing I'm so sorry. But anyways! I'm still working on March for Unspoken Words but sometimes you get little ideas and I just can't move on until I do them. So here! TAKE MY DELUSIONS. (this was only proofread once so take it as it is)

☾ Word Count ➼ ~1.8k

The exhaustion of opening the shop at five in the morning is just now starting to hit you as you roll out blue fondant for the tier cake in front of you. You can’t stop the heavy yawn from escaping your mouth, tears pricking the corner of your eyes from doing so. There were only a handful of hours left in the workday but you were determined to finish this order before then so it would be ready for tomorrow’s pick up.

“Aunt Lyra, you have flour smeared all over your face again.” A voice rings out to the right of you, jarring you from your sleepy state for a moment. You see your red-haired niece munching on a cookie with a contented smile warming up her light brown eyes.

“Sasha, how are we supposed to make a profit if you keep eating all of our products?” You give her a stern look and she just shrugs her shoulders and shoves the rest of the cookie in her mouth. You sigh at her.

“I’ll make more before I leave today.” She mumbles through a full mouth, crumbs falling everywhere.

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“Why are you back here? You should be manning the counter.” You look back down to the designs you were currently working on with the freshly flattened out fondant, reminding yourself to wipe your face when you were done.

“Your favorite customer is here, he says he needs to pick up an order he placed last week.” She stares at you with large, sparkling eyes. “When are you going to finally ask him out? I see the way you look at him.” Your face flushes with heat as you drop everything to wipe your hands on your apron before making your way to the large fridge behind you.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear. Go get his payment, I’ll be right out.” You admit that you couldn’t keep your gaze off him whenever he came in, ordering his usual drink and sitting in his usual spot. For the past year, he always brought a book and would sit in the back for around an hour or two reading and sipping on a few teas before heading off to who knows where for the day. And it was only just that, just a few professional words back and forth and then silence before he left. But you always looked forward to his next visit. You take a deep breath and shake your hands out to get rid of the jitters. Sasha had joked about it but you were actually planning to ask him out the next time you saw him. Today is the day, you tell yourself.

You make sure to have a tight grip on the tall cake box before backing out through the swinging doors separating the dining area from the kitchen. You’re met with the bustling noises of your bakery, signifying yet another busy day. When you turn around to make sure you don’t bump into anything, you also see that the building was indeed teeming with chattering and laughing patrons. The afternoon sun beams through your wide front window and bounces off the shining wooden floors.

“Ah! Ms. Brause, let me help!” Your tall sandy-haired employee comes running up from a table, dirty cutlery and cups discarded, with his arms out in assistance.

“No, Jean, it’s okay. I’ve got it.” You grunt as you heave the heavy confection on the pick-up counter then wipe your hands off on your apron. Jean is a good friend and classmate of Sasha’s. According to your niece, he needed a job as soon as possible so he could start saving up for college. He mentioned that his mom owned a restaurant, and that he could work there but would rather chew his leg off than do that. You couldn’t understand that sentiment, but it never hurt to have extra help at one the busiest bakeries in town, so you said sure.

“Alright, but I’m here if you need help!” He chirps as he stares at you for a moment before turning back around to finish the table he was working on. Sasha had made an offhand comment how Jean had a crush on you since he started. You laughed at the time because it was adorable. Of course, nothing would come out of it since you were practically double his age and he knew that. He never made a pass at you thankfully.

When you make your way to the till, you see Sasha running a card as she talks animatedly about the cake. His hooded eyes flicker over to yours and he nods a hello to you, a small smile playing off his lips. Your heart is racing already.

“Levi, nice to see you again. Would you like your usual, to-go?” You press your hands together underneath the counter to keep them from trembling.

“No, thank you. I unfortunately have somewhere to be as soon as possible.” His deep voice responds back, making your heart flutter more.

“Oh? Where are you headed with such an intricate cake?”

“Just a friend’s party.” He shoves his wallet back into his back pocket and checks his watch. “Speaking of. Is it ready?”

“Yeah, just over on this counter. I’ll help you out.” You walk around the counter to get to the customer’s side before picking up the box carefully. He steps over to you quickly with his mouth open a little in surprise.

“I can get it, just set it down.”

“No, I insist. Besides, I’m already holding it. Get the door for me?” You give him a big smile and he just huffs before turning around and doing what you ask. As you step through the door, you’re met with a warm late summer breeze. The sun is shining down, and you take a deep breath in. You’ve been cooped up in the kitchen for so long that you instantly relax at the freedom.

You see him leading the way over to a small black car about 10 feet away and you begin to follow him, holding the cake box close to your chest. He opens the door behind the driver's side for you to slide it in gently. For extra measure, you even buckle the seatbelt around it. When you stand back up to face him, he’s staring at you incredulously.

“What?” You ask him, stepping back to the sidewalk so he can close the door.

“Why did you do that?” His gruff voice sounds almost amused.

“You need to make sure all passengers are safe.” You shrug your shoulders and chuckle at your own joke. He rolls his eyes at you but he’s definitely smirking. You eye his face as he studies yours. You can’t do this, you think. Asking him on a date seems so ridiculous, maybe next time. Yeah, you’ll ask him out next time.

“Well, I’ll see you the next time you stop by. I hope your friend enjoys their cake.” You manage to get out as you give him a nod then turn to leave as you feel your face warm up again. After taking a couple steps back to the bakery door, you feel something tug at your sleeve. You stop and look over to see Levi holding on to you with two fingers. His eyes are averted and a pink flush runs across his cheeks. He lets go quickly and clears his throat.

“Hey, uh. Before you go…” he trails off. You blink hard at him and twist your body back to face him. He’s about a foot or so away from you and he has his hands shoved into his jean pockets now.

“Yes, Levi?” You notice the tips of his ears are the same flushed pink. His raven hair is blowing gently in the breeze. He is so beautiful, you think. He clears his throat again and shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“I know I don’t know you very well, but I would like to. If given the chance.” He takes one of his hands from his pocket to run it through his hair, his eyes refusing to meet your now shocked expression. He wants to get to know you. Wait, is he asking you on-

“A date? You want to go on a date with me?” You squeak out.

“Yeah. I guess if that’s what you want to call it.” Your heart is about to explode out of your chest and because of that, you can’t keep the shit-eating grin off your face. His gray eyes finally lock onto yours, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“I- yes! I would love to. I was actually going to ask you out just now, but I got too nervous.” The amount of relief that floods your system is almost euphoric. He breaks out into an actual smile, one that just takes your breath away because of how much it lights up his entire face.

“W-well great. I don’t have any plans tonight. 8 o’clock okay?” He fiddles with his car keys as he watches you expectantly.

“What about your friend’s party?”

“It should be over by then. Besides, they’ll be thrilled that I’m finally getting out of my apartment to socialize with someone other than them.” He rolls his eyes at the thought, but then looks back at you with apprehension.

“Oh, well…” You look back in the window to your bakery and see Jean and Sasha both staring at you with wide eyes and big smiles. They give you a thumbs up and a vigorous nod. You shift your gaze back to Levi. “Tonight sounds great. Absolutely.”

You both spend the next couple of minutes exchanging numbers so you can both discuss where to meet later. He gives you a small wave as he backs out of his spot and drives off to his friend’s party. You can’t help but jump up and down as you squeal with excitement. This was actually happening! After months of crushing on him, you have his number and you’re going out with him later. You pinch yourself. Yep, it’s real.

As if in a daydream you slip back into your store, the sounds of chatter and clinking dishes muffled by the thoughts racing through your head. The smile from earlier has not left. Your niece comes bounding up with another cookie in her hands and she starts asking excitedly about what you're going to wear and where are you two going. It’s all just buzzing to you. You’re still in disbelief of what just happened.

“Ms. Braus?” Jean’s voice breaks you out for a moment and you look over to him.

“Yes, Mr. Kirchstein?”

“You have flour on your face still.” Your face falls and you start rubbing at your face with your hands. When you pull them away, you see streaks of white powder covering your fingers. You groan loudly. Levi just asked you on a date while you had flour all over your face.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

(Sorry for the late submission 😭) but I would LOVE #8 with the one and only Ms. Lyla Winston!

Masterlist

Toffee and Rum Raisin

Contains: Fluff

1.0K words

Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy Ice cream and that’s basically the same thing.' - Unknown

"What are you going here?"

You sighed, "It's so hot, the AC at went died and I know for sure it would still be running here."

Lyla chuckled, "It is. I'm editing so I could use the company anyway."

She walked you through the set and into the editing studio before waving at the couch for you to sit, "What's on the agenda today?"

Lyla smiled, "Custom video, a guy who's really into cake and sprinkles. No nudity so I don't get to see you all flustered."

You shook your head, "Hey, the only T and A I want to see is yours. It's different for you because it's your job, our roads are paved because of your excellent production skills."

Lyla shot you a look, "You're laying it on thick, what do you want?"

You shook your head, "I told you what I wanted, I want to hang in the cool with you."

Lyla tapped the seat next to her, "Well come and make yourself useful and help me. I'll show you how to edit the sound so the background noise is gone."

You huffed, "I thought I was helping by sitting here and looking pretty." Nevertheless, you did as she asked and sat beside her.

Lyla moved in close enough that your arms touched as she showed you how to isolate the audio for the film, it seemed easy enough and after twenty minutes of you asking every question you could think of, you were well on your way to helping her get the video up, "I'm surprised you trust me with this."

She smiled, "I keep telling you that you should come and work with me, you'd be good at this."

You shook your head, "I love my job." You paused, "But if it wasn't there I would be here in a heartbeat."

"That's good to know. How are you doing over there?" You noticed she had stopped taking glances at your screen after a while.

You pointed at the progress bar, "I'm further along than you. I've got a few more things to remove here before I go onto the next scene."

Lyla sighed, "Wow you're fast, are you sure you haven't done this before?"

You nodded, "Yep, positive. I just have a great teacher."

Lyla leaned over and pecked your cheek, "You're too sweet to me."

****

One video turned into two, which turned into six and by the time the sun was setting, you and Lyla had gotten enough done that she could take the weekend off, "I'm impressed, you're really good at that."

You sighed, "I did enjoy it." She opened her mouth to speak but you stopped her, "But I'm going back to my day job, if I have to listen to the same lines over and over again, day in and day out, I will go nuts.

Lyla smiled, "Ok them, what do you want to do?"

You tapped your pocket, "I have ten bucks in my pocket and a craving for ice cream, you wanna come with?"

She nodded, "Hell yeah."

You hopped in her car and she drove you to the park where they had the best ice cream stand in all of Charming, with its blue and white pinstripes and big twisty ice cream cone sign. You could hear the milk bar music from the speakers as you walked closer. There was a flash of little legs and blond hair as a child ran up to you, "Auntie, auntie, are you here for the picnic?"

You could see Jax and his wife waving from the distance and Abel pointed over to the stand, "Can we get ice cream?"

Lyla shook her head and pointed to his shirt, "I think I can already see some chocolate ice cream on your shirt, little man, I don't think your mummy and daddy would like it if you had any more."

Abel seemed unfazed, "Ok, but are you here for the picnic?"

You sighed, "Well, Auntie Lyla and I are going to get ourselves some ice cream and them we'll see if we have time, is that alright?"

He nodded, "Yes ok." With that, he was off again, running back towards his mother and father on the grass.

You chuckled, "He is such a cute kid."

"I know right." She nodded towards the stand, "What do you want my dear?"

"The usual, Toffee in a cup with caramel sauce and chocolate shavings." You took her hand with a smile, "I think I know what you're going to get."

She rolled her eyes lovingly, "Yeah, and what is that?"

You held back a smile, "Rum and raisin because you're a little old man inside."

Lyla elbowed your rib, "I am not an old man, it just tastes good."

You walked up to the stand hand in hand and ordered before sitting down at the picnic tables, "We're going to have to go over there and sit with Jax for a while."

You sighed, "I know, it's just we see them every day. It would be nice to have some time to ourselves."

Lyla chuckled, "It will hurt his little feelings. Plus, we're Abel's favourite aunts anyway and I don't want to lose my spot."

"Alright." You pointed to her ice cream, "It looks so boring, you didn't even get toppings."

She blinked and took her spoon before taking some from the scoop and holding it in front of your face, "Just try some."

You gave it a sniff, the cold dessert giving only sweetness then leaned in and ate it, "So?"

You shook your head, "Nope, it tastes like creamy rum. If I wanted to relive my twenties I do it in style and drink whiskey."

Lyla huffed, "I find it hard to believe you got drunk in your twenties."

You held back a giggle, "Hey, there were many nights where I was three sheets to the wind singing the backstreet boys out of a car window."

"I bet that was a sight to see." There was such fondness in her eyes, "Jax is waving us over, we better go and say hello."

You nodded, "Alright, but when we got home, I digging up some photos I have of me on Bourbon Street on mardi gras. You'll see, I was wild."

Lyla grinned, "I can't wait."

Fin

[www-tommydesigns-store]

A Journey to Custom Designs: The Struggles, Sarcasm, and Camouflage

So, here I am, on the brink of my third year trying to start a business without diving into the world of paid advertising. Why? Because I’d rather not spend my hard-earned time dealing with marketer spam while trying to build something meaningful. I mean, time is the only resource we can’t replenish, right?

Let’s be real: I started from rock bottom—no family support, no moral compass guiding me, and certainly no fan club cheering me on. I often wonder if my wife's family thinks I'm allergic to work. But let me set the record straight: I’ve clocked in 20 years in various jobs, working so hard that I could probably run my last job with my eyes closed and half-asleep. And just to clarify, I wasn’t exactly living the easy life—think roofing and setting up mobile homes. Fun, right? Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

I got burnt out, not by choice, but because my knack for honesty apparently made me too “real” for the job market. I mean, who needs honesty when you can hire someone to sing your praises, right? I’ve learned the hard way that companies often prefer a butt-kisser over a hardworking, honest employee. Believe me, I could write a book about the places I worked that still owe wages to former employees. Apparently, "free labor" is a thing if you can’t afford a lawyer. The way they dehumanize workers? It’s like watching a circus act, except you’re the clown.

Living in a town of 400 people has its perks—mainly the chance to witness some truly questionable decisions in the local job market. Once you call someone out, your employment chances become as slim as a supermodel on a diet. But you know what? I firmly believe in doing what’s morally right, even if it means putting my foot in my mouth (again). Sure, I still have bills piling up like my laundry basket, but this blog? It’s my little escape.

Now, let me take you back a bit. I somehow managed to squeeze in a year of college before we were almost tossed out of our home. I had nearly a full ride with scholarships and grants until, wouldn't you know it, someone went and told the world I was trying to make something of myself. Suddenly, the chair was pulled out from under me, and it was back to work or school—there wasn’t enough time for both. With 14-hour days becoming the norm, we barely had time to breathe, let alone hit the books.

Oh, and before I forget, I also proudly served my country for eight years in the armed forces. You’d think that would count for something, right? But no! I had a staff sergeant who couldn’t handle my views and opinions—guess they were clouding his brown-nosing abilities. So, I gracefully exited at the end of my service, leaving behind the buddy-buddy system that nearly derailed my military career.

Currently, I’m glued to my computer while living with family since our power’s out at home. My kids are staying with their aunt until we can all fit back under one roof. I miss them every day. Sure, they visit often, but it’s not the same as snuggling on the couch together. I’m also waiting on a job that involves leaving for 27-day stints on a boat. For a family man, that’s about as fun as a root canal. But here we are, just trying to hold on to the last threads of our sanity as everything crumbles around us. Life’s a real kick in the teeth, isn’t it?

Despite having nothing, I’d still give anyone the shirt off my back if it helps them out. But when does it start looking up for us? I mean, I’m basically a keyboard warrior at this point, sometimes staying up for 2-3 days straight, adding products to my site or revamping SEO until it shines like a freshly polished car. Here’s hoping Google isn’t suppressing me again for some ridiculous policy issues. All I’m trying to do is feed my family and get the lights back on, but it feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke.

My car is on its last leg, and unless I find a U-joint that’s practically extinct, I’m stuck. I’ve managed to keep the thing running for far too long, but at this point, I might as well buy a new driveshaft (at a cool $1500) or another car altogether. Fun fact: the most I’ve ever paid for a vehicle was $3,800. Who needs car payments, am I right? Work around here is as seasonal as the weather, and you can’t exactly haul 20-ton mobile homes over soggy ground or balance on roofs when it’s snowing.

Now, sorry for the long-winded intro—let’s get to the meat of this blog and the photos I’ll be sharing. Please don’t forget to like, share, comment, follow, etc.

Lately, I’ve been designing custom patterns, primarily camouflage. And one day, I thought, why not throw in some cannabis patterns to support legalization in my home state of Alabama? People down here act like they’re the gatekeepers of freedom, deciding who gets access to what. It’s a shame the pharmaceutical companies have their hands in the mix too. Shows you just how “free” we really are. But hey, people are going to do what they want, whether it’s through a licensed pharmacy or an unlicensed one. So here’s my take: mind your own business, and you won’t have time to meddle in mine.

So, I’ve released a new mix in my shop—what I envision #marijuana and #camouflage would look like as a pattern. I also create all my own camouflage designs for the clothing featured on my profiles or at www.tommydesigns.store (shameless plug).

A bit about me for those curious about how I landed in this field: not everyone is born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Some of us get the raw end of the deal from day one, and I am definitely one of those people. If something can go wrong, it probably will. But I have the willpower to tackle nearly any challenge that comes my way.

I've been on this entrepreneurial journey for a while now, trying to keep my morals intact while navigating the murky waters of business. Being brutally honest can make it tough to find friends, a decent job, or even much of anything. I’ve been unemployed for three years—not because I’m lazy. I’m out there daily, working on the house, running errands, and rebuilding my website from scratch whenever I can’t make a payment.

I can’t seem to figure out why my sales are nonexistent. My website’s performance and SEO are solid, but I’m missing some secret sauce. I refuse to invade anyone's inbox—seriously, who likes spam? So, to any marketers out there reading this: if you’re not offering genuine, free information without a Fiverr link attached, just keep on scrolling.

On a brighter note, I create most of my graphics from scratch and occasionally use AI for reference. I’ve even penned six books on Amazon—mostly guides, how-tos, and self-help gems. Unfortunately, without any advertising budget, it’s a slow burn. I’ve studied top companies, and yet, I can’t pinpoint what’s missing in my strategy.

This isn’t about me seeking handouts. I believe in taking care of my own. Crowdfunding has proven to be a bit of a dead end without ads, so I set up a simple PayPal link on my social pages. If anyone wants to read my story, I’ll add it to this post.

So, there you have it—my journey through the ups and downs of starting a business while trying to keep a sense of humor. If you enjoy what I’m doing, please consider supporting my journey. Life’s tough, but so am I.

Website Links:

Amazon Author Page:

Discover the world of storytelling on my Amazon Author Page, where you’ll find a diverse collection of books spanning various genres, including self-help, survival, and fiction. Explore titles like "Survive & Thrive: Easy DIY Survival Tips & Tricks," designed to inspire and empower readers. Your support by purchasing or reviewing my books helps me continue to create and share valuable content. #AmazonAuthor #SupportIndieAuthors #BookCommunity

Paypal Link:

Paypal QR Code:

Stripe QR Code

Stripe Link:

Other and Social Links:

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/l337app  

Instagram Profile: https://www.instagram.com/designs_tommy

Threads Profile: https://www.threads.net/@designs_tommy 

TikTok Profile & Shop: https://www.tiktok.com/@tommy_designs

Pinterest Profile: https://www.pinterest.com/Designs_Tommy/

X/Twitter Profile: https://x.com/designs_tommy

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@Tommy_Designs

Mastodon Profile:https://mastodon.social/@tommydesigns 

Tumblr Blog: https://www.tumblr.com/tommydesigns2024 

DesignHill (Services & Products): https://www.designhill.com/member/tommyscouture 

BlueSky Page: https://bsky.app/profile/tommymarcum.bsky.social 

Redbubble(Store & Portfolio):  https://L337Apparel.redbubble.com 

ArtStation(Store & Portfolio): https://www.artstation.com/tommy_designs 

LinkedIn Profile: https://www.linkedin.com/in/tommydesignsstore/ 

Twitch(Streaaming): https://www.twitch.tv/tommyscouture 

Throne(support streamers): https://throne.com/tommyscouture 

Beacons Page(Link in Bio/Subscribe): https://beacons.ai/tommydesigns

Tommy Designs(Main Apparel Store): https://tommy-designs-store.printify.me/ 

Instagram Bot  https://aistudio.instagram.com/ai/1071617124303632/?utm_source=share

[highvern]

Sales Pitch

Pairing: Moon Junhui x fe!reader

Genre: Smut, 21+

Warnings: dom reader, sub/brat jun, anal sex (m. receiving), pegging, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, sex toys, impact play, breath play, freak deakys fr!!!

Length: 3.6k

Note: enjoy!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

Part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“Do you think these make my boobs look big?”

You turn to find Jun modeling the new shipment of nipple clamps over his shirt, the metal chain glinting across his chest from each peaked bud. His hands lift behind his head to further highlight the adornment.

“Gigantic.” You quip, diving back into the box filled with an assortment of lube.

In the six months you’ve been working at Bad Kittyz, you’ve discovered more about your coworker's weird fetishes than you really should. 

Even in snippets of conversation with customers, you hear him recommend toys and gadgets like he’s tried them all. Products that haven’t moved off the shelf since you started and look like they’ve sat there even longer than that he talks about like old friends. The day Jun discussed the installation of a sex swing with a woman pushing sixty you came to the conclusion the sex dungeon under his apartment must be stocked beyond belief.

A crash from behind you makes you turn, finding Jun stumbling as he struggles into a harness.

“What are you doing?”

“We got these strap ons and—”

Cutting him off, you eye him with confusion. “I can see that but why are you trying it on? You have a dick.”

“Sorry I like to give our customers my most informed opinion.” Jun rolls his eyes, going back to fidgeting with the straps.

“Please don’t say that.” You wince. “Not when you sold that sex machine yesterday.”

“What do you mean? You don’t think we should try the products before selling them?”

You blush at the implication that he’s tried everything he’s sold. Including the sex machine.

“I didn’t say that. But you don’t even need a strap.”

“I’m not gonna sell it without first hand knowledge.”

“I think that means you should get pegged then.” You sniff, turning back to your work.

You don’t want to be honed into his body. Every breath, every creak of the old floor boards as he moves closer. Even the heat of his body against your back wouldn’t register under normal circumstances but now it's overwhelming. 

Jun seems hell bent on making it even worse.

“Is that an offer?”

An entire day of preparation only serves to fan the flames of nervousness. Wrinkled laundry from weeks ago gets folded, every dish you own sits spotless in the cabinets; you’ve even lint rolled your couch. It’s more than you’ve done for any hookup before and it makes you jitter with embarrassment. 

The day barely dips into the afternoon by the time you're done. It gives you too much time to think. Your bedroom is off limits. Already prepped with fresh sheets, towels, and condoms. If you have to see the set up you might start scratching at the walls.

A shot of liquor helps take the edge away. Just enough you can sit on the couch without shaking out of your skin. But not enough to stop you from rotating through the same apps over and over in hopes a distraction will take your brain away from thoughts of Jun bent over the edge of your bed with his ass displayed.

When he finally arrives, you nearly puke. Because now its real and you’re about to fuck your hot coworker with a fake cock like its just another normal Thursday for him.

Jun smiles as you open the front door. It’s innocent at face value, only the edges tilting into something fouler. 

“What's up?”

“Please don’t try to act casual.” You warn, stepping aside so he can enter.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

He flings himself onto the couch and somehow manages to still look hot despite the awkward angle of his limbs. The bag full of contraband sits on the floor, unassuming despite carrying a menagerie of who knows what. 

Crossing your arms in faux nonchalance, you nod towards the opposite end of your apartment. “Bathroom’s down the hall.”

“Okay?”

“Listen, it's not that I don’t trust you.” You sigh. It's a lie. You trust him as far as you can throw him. For all you know that tote bag could have cuffs and collars and a sex swing tucked away. “But I’m about to be closer to your ass than should be legal so I want to make sure.”

“Fine.” Jun shrugs, slipping past you while removing his shirt. “Are you coming too?”

The broad expanse of his back disappears behind the bathroom door. A creak preceding the patter of the shower vaguely registers in your brain still operating a mile behind. You don’t follow immediately, unwilling to bear to witness what he needs to get done. And maybe you want him to sweat for it, knock him off balance the same way you’ve been since he asked for this. 

But after a few minutes your feet move you his way, clothes falling with each step closer to the cracked door. But not before you snag the bottle of lube out of his bag. You’re almost disappointed by the lack of oddities beyond the strap on.

The hum of his voice bubbles behind the curtain. You find him lathered up when you duck into the stall, foamy tendrils lacing across his back and down his legs. 

“Wow, you don’t waste any time.” He jokes, turning over his shoulder to spot the bottle still squeezed tight in your palm.

Shouldering past him into the spray, you scoff.  “You asked me to pop your cherry and now you’re complaining?”

Jun doesn’t respond, scrubbing at his skin while following the streams of water webbing over your chest. You don’t object when he pulls you into his orbit, following until your mouths meet with ease. The nudge against your thigh feels juvenile against what you’re about to do but it doesn't stop you from taking advantage. 

Water doesn’t provide the smoothest glide but Jun doesn’t seem to mind, bucking into the catch of your palm. He turns pliant with a lazy swipe against his slit and a lick between his teeth. His shoulders shelter you from the downpour as you turn him, slowly dropping down until you’re face to face with his cock. 

Blinking lazily, you tongue where he leaks against your fingers, glowing at the twitch muscles across his stomach. Steam shrouds around his face but it can't hide the grind of his jaw.

“Good?” 

Jun nods, hands limp at his side. Finding the bottle again, your fingers shine with excess as you reach underneath and glide them across his ass. You suck him down to soften the stretch but Jun doesn’t so much as flinch when your finger slips in without resistance.

Popping off his cock, your eyebrow arches. “Have you done this before?”

“Umm,” he swallows, pinking from the neck up. “Define ‘this’?”

“Had fingers in your ass.”

He hesitates; bashful despite still being stretched over your knuckle. “Yes.”

“Wow, and here I thought I was special.”

Jun’s rebuttal is lost to a groan, ripped out by the curve of your throat against the head of his cock. The timidity of taking his first time evaporates through your veins, replaced by the hunger to be the best he’ll ever get.

A second finger proves little challenge either and you almost pull back to goad him but one glance at Jun’s face hints he might cum if you degrade him too much. Instead, you take the satisfaction of his taste on your tongue as a win and keep curling your fingers until his hips kick.

“More lube,” he croaks.

You rush to do what he asks, pouring so much onto your fingers it drips down his legs when you press back in with a third finger. The new stretch has you gagging on him again.

“Fuck yeah. Oh shit.”

Replacing your mouth with a hand, you lap at the raised vein running from his base to his abs. “How big is the dildo you brought?”

His Adam's apple bobs with your next stroke. “I–Mhmmm.”

“Jun, how big is it?”

The water creeps cold and you're about to start humping his leg if you don’t find something new to distract yourself with. So you stop until he answers.

“Small.” 

You reward him with a quick glide but that's all. “Think you’re ready?”

A quick inhale and a nod has you rising to your feet, rinsing off your used hand before turning the faucet and exiting into the chilly air.

“Grab the lub—” 

Jun cuts you off with his mouth. He laps away his own taste, nearly bending you in half with enthusiasm. The idea of lifting your leg and letting him fuck you against the counter whispers in the back of your mind; how easy he can fill you before you take him back to your bed and give him the same treatment. But, just based on how he kisses, you can tell if you indulge now then you’ll be much too tired later.

His stomach bows when your nails find his nipple, scraping the sensitive bud on a whim. Something about the way he responds, whiney and breathless, sends you into a frenzy. 

“Go grab,” a pass of his teeth, “your bag and,” another draw of his tongue. “Meet me in my room.” 

You almost cave to his attempt at drowning you in his affection but you break away, turning back to the shower for the bottle. Jun’s hand ghosts down your spine, fingers digging into the swell of your ass for a second until he dissolves through the door.

Unable to prolong the charade, you follow only a few seconds behind. 

Jun sprawls across your bed like a renaissance painting. Nothing but long limbs and lean muscle. Damp skin shimmering like liquid golden in the light of the singular lamp. One leg bent at the knee, not so subtly bringing your gaze to his length; stiff and sticky against his thigh. The harness rests at the foot of the bed, more daunting than the naked man only feet away.

Tossing the bottle of lube down, you grab the tangle of straps and try to orient yourself. It’s straightforward but the crawl of eyes over your body makes you falter. 

“Stop staring at me.” You bite when you nearly drop the entire thing.

Jun huffs, an arm flinging over his face. “I grabbed the one with a vibe built in. But you can use the normal one if you want.”

You refuse to dwell on the sweetness in such a vulgar scenario. The thick purple vibrator rests next to a smaller black one, both sleek silicone. If he’s offering you equal pleasure you’d be a fool not to take it so you snatch up the larger of the two and set to work. 

The harness shimmies up your hips almost too easily. All it takes is a tug here and a pull there and you’re ready to dick down your hot coworker with a fake cock and too much lube. And its when you notice the ring of plastic on the nightstand.

“What's this?”

You know what it is. Unpacked a box of them a few days ago while he helped a customer pick out a fleshlight. But getting Jun to admit it makes you salivate.

He peeks from behind his hand, eyes dropping to your finger donned with the cock ring. The smirk on your face refuses to be concealed under his view.

“A dick in your ass isn’t enough?” You ask, feigning innocence as you round the bed and sink the cushion under your knees. “Or are you really that much of a freak?”

Jun sinks back. Crawling over him, you plant on his thighs, savoring the twitch of his own cock when you drop the piece of silicon on his stomach. Your fake dick and his real one clash beautifully next to one another. You worry you’ve pushed too far, growing hesitant under his moon eyed gaze.

Raking your nails across his stomach, and Jun finally answers your goad when you reach the crease of his hip.

“I’m—I’m a freak.”

It’s completely silent as you eye one another up. Pupils blown and chest heaving at the cliff you’re about to jump off of.

“Then show me.”

Creeping up his chest, you rest the tip of the strap against the pink of his mouth. He doesn’t miss a beat, leaves no room for any more nerves as he sucks it in, the purple disappearing inch by inch behind his lips. 

You should have known he’d be messy, anticipated the way he drools and moans. But it hits you like you can actually feel any pleasure through the faux extension. Even if you don’t feel physical stimulation, his hands at your ass, pushing your hips until you catch his hint and give a few shallow thrusts of your own, makes your ears ring.

Jun campaigns for gold, swallowing around the intrusion like he loves nothing more than taking cock. Like he could cum like this, untouched, gagging on a fake dick while you watch him.

“Shit,” you curse as his nose meets your stomach, bottoming out in the softness of his throat like he’s sucked more dick than you’d believe.

You curse again when one of his hands drops to find the button that’ll make the end of the cock buried inside you vibrate. Hips rutting into the stimulation, tears bead in his eyes while he chokes. 

Rising away you push him back when he attempts to follow, “Fuck, thats enough. Jesus Christ.”

You find the bottle of lube and the cock ring. Dribbling a generous dose on his cock, you wait until he starts rolling it down.  Jun doesn’t resist the urge to jerk off, knuckles brushing against the spit soaked plastic of the strap.

Tangling your fingers with his own, you squeeze him through a tight fist until he’s kicking. 

“Turn around,” you breathe. “Don’t stop, but if you cum I will.”

He doesn’t tell you that he can’t cum with the new addition but the idea that he is staving off licks up your spine. 

More lube shines across his ass and you slide the head of the dildo through the mess in a tease, barely nudging at his entrance before moving away. The way he attempts to force you in is nothing compared to the curve of his spine when his chest falls to the sheets.

“C’mon,” he whines.

A fist stops him from sinking back, giving him just an inch of pure frustration and nothing more.

“How bad do you want it?”

“So bad.” Jun groans, gifted with another inch of stretch before you stop him again.

Draping over his back, you nip at his earlobe before whispering, “Then ask for it.”

Rising up, you give a harsh tug of hair, a broken cry cracking through the air.

“Please, please, please,” he chants.

Annoyance taints your sigh, sending you back to square one with the fake cock resting between his cheeks. It’s hard to pretend you’re not just as desperate. Between the heaven blessed image of Jun on his knees, begging for cock, and the vibrations making your thighs twitch, you’re nearly on the verge of begging him to fuck you instead.

You squirt more lube, making it messier like some cheap porno. Clean up will suck but right now you don't care.

“Please what?” You sing, hand massaging the lube between his cheeks.

“Please fuck me!”

You don’t wait for more, rewarding the bare minimum by letting him take as much as he wants as fast as he wants it. There’s no way he’s never done this before. Jun rides dick better than you, keeping pace without faltering and rocking with so much enthusiasm you itch for your phone to record such depravity.

Each clap of his ass against your pelvis rocks the toy just right inside you, until you're seizing. Part of you hates he’s getting you off so easily. And you take it out by leaving a red copy of your hand on his ass. 

Jun collapses with a squeak and you follow. Each rut of your hips has him rippling with one of his own, destroyed between the fullness of his ass and the roughness of your sheets against the sensitive tip of his cock. 

“Harder,” he whines.

You try. But few pathetic cants leave him crying for more than you can provide with the angle you’re in. 

Jun’s limbs shoot out when you sit back, scrambling to be full again. He looks over his shoulder, tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth. No doubt to curse you to high heavens for edging him.

“Flip over.”

On autopilot he flips to his back, knees rising to his chest to show off the damage you’ve done. His cock sits wet and aching, stiff in the confines of the cock ring. 

You slip back in, only teasing with more light strokes while working off his confines; the insatiable hunger to see him covered in his own cum infecting your every move. Jun’s lips are bruised, worried between his teeth at ever pass against that spot inside him. It’s worse when you circle his cock. Each jerk in time with your hips sending his head further back into the pillows and baring his throat for whatever marks you want to leave.

But Jun doesn’t crave the sting of your teeth or the plump drag of your tongue. Instead, without an ounce of reserve, he pulls your hand up the dip between his collar bones, blankets your hand with his own, and squeezes.

“You’re such a slut,” you spit, delighting in cutting his next moan off before it can even begin. “Say it. Say you're a slut.”

“I’m a slut!”

“Can’t hear you.”

Flailing under the beratement, Jun groans again. “I’m a slut!”

He’s so easy. So eager to roll in the pleasure and pain you provide. It bleeds through his features, the way his body contorts and his face shifts. It makes you itch to stretch him so far he has no choice but to snap. 

“Are you gonna cum?” Your voice is hopeful. Its all you want. All you need. “Is this all it takes? Getting called a slut with your ass full and you’re ready to blow your load?”

Another violent curl of his back until he’s nearly in half. “Shit, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

This time when you stop, Jun takes over immediately. The tip of his cock peaks through his fist, pearly beads dripping until he seizes. Rope after rope paints his chest, crude gems in the low light. Face twisted in pure agony. He looks like a dream. Like a model in the magazines tucked away in the backroom of the shop. 

The end of the vibrator buried inside you keeps you at a dull hum. You bubble just on the edge of your orgasm but watching Jun twitch and writhe is better than anything you can possibly think of. Except dipping down and lapping away the stains on his skin, sucking his cum coated nipples until he drives you on to your back. 

It takes some maneuvering but he manages to wedge his tongue under the toy and find the patch of nerves like he’s been there a thousand times. 

He laps at your clit, hot and languid and dirty; all while he angles the vibrator buried inside you to bully against your front wall, breaking you into a twitching sweaty mess.

“Fuck, oh fuck—don’t stop.”

Your back curves, spine bending almost in half when Jun sucks and delivers another harsh push bordering on cruel. His free hand lands flat on your chest, forcing your shoulders back into the pillows with ease.

“Please, please, please,” you chant, curling your hips up into Jun’s face. He abandons his previous grips, focusing on guiding your body across his tongue until your thighs spasm.

His groans echo loudly despite his face being buried in your cunt; scorching into your muscles until it hurts. Cruel fingers pluck at your nipples, tugging until you yelp and then pinching some more.  Jun doesn’t stop until you wedge your fingers between your pussy in his mouth, continuing to lick and suck until he opens his eyes and realizes you're swatting him away.

Croaking an intelligible nose, you collapse; only focused on the soaking kisses across your hips and up your breasts. The tickle of Jun’s bangs against your neck don’t even elicit a response. The room spins as you return to your body. Only the weight of the man on top of you keeps you from floating away. 

Later, after another shower that is really only an excuse for some lazy groping and equally lethargic kisses, you cuddle up on the couch. Jun decides your chest is his new home, happily buried between your breasts while the movie drones on in the back. Weed still reeks in the air but it makes the edges hazy, glowing like the sun beats through your veins. 

“Ya know,” Jun whispers into your sternum. “Next week we’re getting ball gags.”

It doesn’t throw you off. Your fingers continue combing through his hair, nails scratching his scalp until goosebumps bloom on his bare back. “Let me guess, you wanna try them out?”

“If you’re offering.”

Your next exhale carries you to sleep. “Only if I get to wear it.”

@tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @horanghaezone

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[gazs-blue-hat]

Decided to make this a bit longer. We all deserve love.

TW: canon typical language (Simon curses a lil bit). Nothing else I can think of.

——————————————————

Your day had been utter shit. You had started that day with a positive outlook. A new person was starting at the shop you worked at, and they had seemed promising on their resume.

How wrong had you been.

The new person at work ended up being an absolute hindrance to any productive work. They lied about knowing the POS system and they didn’t put in effort to learn as you tried to teach them.

Along with the new employee (who had been assigned to shadow you), you were met with a slurry of rude and antagonistic folks. With the holiday season coming up, people decided to take their frustrations out on those in the service industry.

That happened to be you.

Instead of eating on your lunch break, you had spent the thirty minutes sobbing in your car. You debated internally (and out loud) if you really and truly needed this job. (You do.)

By the time the shop was closing and you said goodbye to your co-workers, any semblance of joy or peace in your body was gone. It had been stolen by the horrors of customer service. As you turned the key in the ignition of your car, you could only think of one thing that could make things better.

Your loving partner.

💙Simon Riley💙

Once you pulled into the garage and had put the car in park, you saw the looming figure of your boyfriend standing in the doorway. He always greeted you when you came home (if he wasn’t on assignment) and today was no different.

Simon smiled softly, opening his arms out to you for a hug. As you stepped out of the vehicle and into his arms, he sighed softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He had noticed the tear-stains on your face when you pulled in and he was determined to make things better.

“People are made of absolute shite love. Come on, I’ve got some gingerbread people we can dip into tea. Pretend those fuckers are the idiots from today.” His voice rumbled low in his chest and he smiled when you gave a wet laugh, followed by a sniffle.

“There ya are…home sweet home.”

❤️John Price❤️

John kept tabs one you throughout the day. It came with the territory of being a Captain of an elite group of soldiers. You and John have impeccable communication skills and you had warned him of your negative mood before you came home.

John is a planner, first and foremost. He had cleared some space in the main room of your shared apartment and lit some of your favorite candles. The simmer pot on the stove filled the air with your favorite seasonal scents and soft music played in the background.

John couldn’t help but stand at parade rest as he heard your keys jostling the lock to the front door. As you entered and mechanically set your stuff down, John rocked on his toes a bit. You turned and he watched as you eyes lit up a smile broke your tear-streaked face.

“May I dance with you, my dear?”

Your smile could have lit a million candles with how bright it was.

💛Johnny MacTavish💛

Johnny is no stranger to bad days at work. Almost getting blown up on a daily basis will do that to a person. So when you had called him in tears, telling him about how horrid your day was, he knew he had to do something.

He spent the hours before you came home cleaning up the apartment and getting some of your favorite snacks ready. He had also run a steaming hot bath filled with your favorite bath accessories.

When he heard your car beeping in the driveway, he skidded to the front door and pulled it open, gathering you in his arms and shoving his face into your shoulder.

“Oh bonnie…I’m so sorry you had a shite day. Let me get that heavy coat off of ya’.” The words spilled out of his mouth before you had time to argue. Johnny was rushing you to the bedroom, pulling off layers of clothing as he went.

“Fixed you a bath and a nice glass of that drink you like. You deserve it. After you’ve washed up and had a sit-down, we can watch that movie you’ve been wanting to see.” He ushered you to the bath and smiled as you looked up at him, mouth opening to say something.

“Dinnae worry your sweet head about it bonnie. I’m the best. I know!” He then closed the door and smiled widely as he gathered the blankets for a kick-ass blanket fort.

💚Kyle Garrick💚

Kyle is almost frightening in the way he knows you. He knows you too well. As soon as you stepped out of your vehicle, he was there grabbing your items and helping you into the apartment with his arm outstretched.

Once you had gotten inside, he pressed a kiss on your cheek and got started on setting up your ‘relaxation station’. Blankets upon blankets had been piled on the couch and a hot water bottle had been prepared for you.

He led you to the couch and got you settled in your cocoon of blankets, he settled behind you and began to massage your shoulders. He had found a bottle of your favorite lotion and slathered his large hands up, making sure the lotion was warm before he started massaging your skin.

“Welcome home love.” His lips pressed behind your ear as the intro music to your favorite show played from the TV. He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as you groaned and leaned into his embrace.

Right where you belong.

Hey there! So sad you had a bad day.

Imagine you come home from a rough day. Someone was mean at the store or stole your perfect preferred parking spot.

You come home on the edge of tears because you’re hungry and you’re tired and today was absolute shit and…

There’s your boy. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish. He’s got your favorite snack and your favorite drink in hand.

“Welcome home Bonnie. Knew you had a shit day…figured I do somethin’ nice.”

-Gaz’s blue hat 🧢

🥺

[musicloverxoxo7]

Pirate Captain – featuring Jin

Pirate!Jin   x   fem!reader

Summary: You meet captain Seokjin by coincidence and have to flee with him. On his ship, something blossoms between you. How long can you resist?

Themes/warnings: AU, smut with plot (smut in last half), unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, spanking (mild), bit of fluff, pirate brother Jungkook

Wordcount: ca. 3.6k

 

Disclaimer: 18+, DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

I do not own BTS. They merely inspire me. None of this is related to their persons in real life.

 

“I’ll be back in 2 hours”, you say to your mother before leaving the house. It’s market day and your mother has written an entire list. As every Wednesday.

With a basket and a bag, you walk along the street that leads into town. It’s a warm day of late spring and you look forward to taking a dip in the ocean later today with some friends. Or perhaps your little sister.

“Hi, Ms. Lim. Nice day, isn’t it”, you ask your neighbor as you pass her.

“Beautiful. Is your mother home?”

“Yes. If you pop in straight away, you might catch her before her and my sister go fetch wood from the forest.”

“Thanks, dear. I hope they still have everything you need at the market.”

It’s true. You’re a bit later than usual today. But somehow you had a feeling earlier that you shouldn’t hurry today and enjoy every second.

Finally, you make it to the market square. Dozens of people bustle from stand to stand. The vendors try to attract more customers by advertising their products. You go to a vegetable stand first.

“The usual”, the man there asks.

“That and two extra gloves of garlic. My sister has started enjoying the taste as well.”

The man packs everything for you. Once you’ve paid, you walk on to a stand that sells fabrics. This vendor only visits your town once a month and your mother is in dear need of a new shirt. She’s great at sewing.

You run your fingers over a few of the blue cotton fabrics. One has darker blue flowers on it, and you know your mother will adore it.

“Oh, sorry.”

A man bumps into you and tries to steady you after the impact.

“No worries.”

He has gorgeous brown eyes, like the milk chocolate your father sometimes brings home from his trips.

You take a step back, out of his arms. Though you have to admit his body felt nice against yours.

“You can steal it, but there’s nothing in there.”

Of course, he doesn’t have the wallet in his hand anymore. It must have long since disappeared into his coat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The wallet is a decoy. You really think I’d fall for the “I’m just saving the lady from falling over” charade?”

He looks you hard in the eyes for a few moments, then takes out the decoy wallet from an inside pocket of his coat. He opens it. As you’d said it’s empty, except for a slip of paper.

“You’re good.”

He hands you the wallet. You put it back into your bag.

“How do you know?”

You just shrug your shoulders. Let him interpret into that what he wants. No need for him to know that your mother used to run in a pretty rough crowd and taught you lots of things.

He smiles. It draws your attention to his lips. They are full and look very soft.

“So, uhm”, he starts, then breaks off, looking over your shoulder. “Damn.”

He pushes you behind him and draws a sword you hadn’t noticed was there before. This is turning into a much wilder morning than you’d bargained for.

The smell of smoke hits your nostrils. Someone is screaming. Someone else is laughing. It’s a crazy laugh that makes goosebumps erupt all over your arms.

“Go home. Take your family and leave. Go!”

You turn around. You know your way around the town like the back of your hand. But there are two men with torches and swords coming your way from that direction.

“Ah, Seokjin. Man, it’s been a long time.”

You can feel the man’s back stiffen against yours. That must be his name. You’re royally screwed now.

“Yeah, few months.”

“Tell me, how much did you get for the ruby necklace that you stole from under my nose?”

If he reacts to the statement, you can’t tell. He doesn’t say a word.

“Who’s that little thing hiding behind your back? Your newest toy?”

“Just an innocent bystander whose pocket I happened to pick.”

“No, man. Don’t buy it. I think my men and I will bring you and the little missus onto our ship. Let’s see how we deal with thieves.”

“Follow me to your right. On the count of three”, you hiss at Seokjin across your shoulder.

You grab a few bales of cloth and throw them in the direction of the men coming towards you. One hits one square in the chest.

“Three. Now.”

You grab the blue bale and make a run for it. The market square has emptied completely. You dash through it and off into a side street. There are shouts and the sound of feet on cobblestone.

You turn off into a small side street. Then another. And another. The number of footsteps behind you reduces to one pair quickly. Still, you keep running for a while. You’re out of town by the time you stop behind the hedge of a small house.

Seokjin, breathing heavily, stops beside you.

“Good grace, you’re fast. You just outran pirates.”

“Well, they hardly have time to practice running out at sea.”

Seokjin wheezes, clutching his side.

You straighten up and look at him.

“Who are you and why have they been following you?”

With your hands on your sides and the stern face you must look quite a bit like your mother, but you don’t care.

It takes a few moments until Seokjin has recovered enough.

“I’m Jin. I…”

“You?”

“I hunt treasures.”

“Essentially, you’re a pirate too. I’m not entirely stupid. I listened to what that pirate guy said to you. Not hard to put one and one together and get two.”

Jin looks at you for a long time. You raise an eyebrow.

“They’ve seen you. They’ll come for you now. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Next thing you know a piece of fabric is being held over your mouth and nose. Then everything goes black.

--

Everything seems to be shaking. And your head is pounding. You peel open your eyes and sit up.

You weren’t entirely wrong. Everything is swaying gently. A glance around tells you that you are in a wooden cabin of some sort. A lamp in the corner casts a soft glow on the room. The bed you’re on has plush covers and pillows, covered with the most expensive fabrics you’ve ever seen.

Where the heck has this pirate guy taken you?

A gentle knock on the door startles you back to reality.

“Enter.”

A tall man with short black hair and small, heart-shaped lips walks in. He’s carrying a tray. It smells of chicken. Your stomach suddenly grumbles.

The man walks over to you and puts the tray down on the edge of the bed.

“Please, tug in. You’ve been out nearly ten hours. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“Is someone going to come and knock me out with something stinky again after I’ve eaten?”

“Nah, you’re safe now. You can leave the cabin whenever you want. Also, hyung said I’m your contact person if you need new clothing. Something a little better fitting for the sea.”

And suddenly everything clicks into place. You’re on Jin’s ship. He’s the captain of a pirate ship. Does that mean you’re a pirate too now? Would they persecute you for it?

You choke back the tears you suddenly feel. But the man must have seen them.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay to be sad. That’s one of the policies on the ship. We can cry when we’re sad and then not get mad and kill or betray each other. Jin doesn’t like when people do that.”

The way he says it, with a cute pout, makes you laugh and cry at the same time.

“I’m Jungkook by the way. The captain’s younger brother.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

“That’s a pretty name. How about you eat, and I go fetch some fresh clothes for you? I think the world is always a little less terrible when I don’t feel like I’ve just waded through the mud.”

Jungkook gives you another smile before he leaves. He’s very sweet. So much so you decide to trust him somewhat and dig in. The chicken is delicious. And the rice is just the right amount of sticky. There’s even some fruit juice, which you gulp down. Strangely, it makes your head feel okay again.

Once you’re done with the food, you untangle yourself from the blankets and get up. Your dress is indeed quite dirty. Jin must have dragged you through the mud to get you onto the ship.

A few minutes later Jungkook delivers the clothes and leaves again. You put on the pants, blouse and jacket. They fit surprisingly well. Either a woman works on this ship, or they often have female guests. That thought makes you scrunch up your nose. You hope they at least washed the sheets between you and the last female guest.

It takes you a few more minutes to gather the courage to go outside. It’s dark and the stars are out. The moon shines brightly, but the sea around the ship is pitch black. A few lanterns guide the way on the boat.

You find Jungkook and Jin standing at the ship’s wheel. Jungkook has binoculars in his hand.

“No, nobody is following us. You know they never were that fast. Neither their ship, nor, you know…”

Jin’s forehead is wrinkled.

“They won’t catch up with us tonight. That much is certain. Let’s talk about the rest during tomorrow’s meeting.”

You clear your throat.

“Y/n.” Jungkook sounds happy to see you. Much like your younger cousins when you go to play with them.

He looks at Jin, then nods at you and leaves.

Jin’s straight, strong stance changes once Jungkook is out of sight. His face softens, making him look much younger and much less like a scary pirate captain. In fact, like this, he wouldn’t look out of place in the castle in your town.

“Please say all you want. I’d imagine this isn’t the life you imagined. You may stay with us as long as you wish. Or leave the ship when we dock and make a new life for yourself.”

Frankly, you aren’t quite sure what to say.

“I’m not happy about this situation. My family will worry. I don’t want that. I also don’t want them to think I’m dead.”

“You could send them a letter the next time we dock.”

You stand there, looking at Jin for a few minutes and contemplate things. While it is true that you never wanted to end up like the small-town wife, you had also never contemplated living with pirates and leading a life of outlaw.

“You don’t have to decide now. Or tomorrow. You can test out life here for a while first.”

So that’s what you do for the next week. Everyone is friendly to you and there are three other women on board, which makes things a little easier. You pull your weight in work. Jungkook quickly becomes your friend. He’s a bit shy in general but seems to have taken to you quickly.

With Jin, it’s hard to say what he thinks of you. Sometimes you joke with each other, other times he is serious and distant. You can’t deny, though, that you enjoy every time it gets warm, and he unbuttons his shirt.

It’s another week before you dock at the main port of an island. Jungkook brings the letter to your family to the post office, while Jin and a few others do some business. You’ve been advised to stay put for this one. It’s still too close to your hometown.

You were supposed to leave port before nightfall and now it’s long past and Jin and his buddies still aren’t back.

You fall asleep in your cabin while waiting for them.                        

The floorboards creek under careful footsteps. It’s dark. You come to and pull the knife out from under your pillow. The footsteps continue.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

“It’s just me, Jin. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Hastily, you push the knife on top of a drawer beside the bed.

There’s the sound of a match being lit and then the lamp in the corner comes to life. Jin looks exceptionally tired.

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“Just this.”

Jin goes to the bookshelf and pulls out a book bound in red leather.

“You keep your books here?”

“Yes. This is my cabin.”

You nearly jump out of the bed, but then decide that would be rude.

“But why did you give it to me? You’re the captain. You should have it. I’ll move tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been bunking with Jungkook. He doesn’t mind. Too much.”

Jin smiles a little.

“So, uhm, is that your comfort book or something?”

“In a way. May I?”

Jin point at the edge of the bed. You nod. He approaches and sits down. With the blankets drawn tightly around you, you crawl closer. Jin opens the book. It turns out it’s a photo album. Lots of black and white pictures.

Jin points at the picture of a beautiful woman with a braid of long, dark hair. Her hand is on the wheel of this ship, you realize.

“My mom. Most feared pirate captain for over 30 years. She passed on two years ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you.”

The next picture is of a small Seokjin, a tiny Jungkook and the beautiful woman. The family resemblance is very obvious with Jin.

“Jungkook doesn’t look like her, but you do.”

“He’s not related to her. We only had the same dad. Jungkook’s mom ran away. And then our dad did. Mom raised both of us.”

“Does he know you are half-brothers?”

“Of course. But he thinks of mom as his mother too.”

“You two were adorable.”

“I guess we were.”

He shows you a lot more pictures. Nearly the entire album. The last picture you remember is of Jungkook and Jin flanking their mother’s sides, both of them substantially taller than her.

You wake up to a heavy arm draped around your rib cage. At first that feels quite nice. Very protected. Until you realize that it must be Jin and you two have fallen asleep.

Unsure what to do, you freeze in place. Jin’s hand glides down to your stomach. He pulls you closer until you are flush against his chest. And his erection pokes you in the ass. You’ve had a boyfriend before, so none of this is new. Still. You’ve never spent an entire night with someone.

But the warmth of Jin’s body feels nice as it envelopes you, so you snuggle closer.

“Mh”, Jin hums into your ear.

You repeat the little wiggly movement, and he sighs. To see if you can get another reaction out of him, you keep moving your ass.

A few more sighs follow. Then, Jin’s hand moves up your torso until he finds your boob and squeezes it. You still don’t stop moving.

“Do you want something from me or are you just teasing me?”

You stop and giggle as silently as possible. Jin twists your nipple. You gasp.

“Talk to me, darling. We can go back to sleep. Or we can…”

You twist around in his arm. Your faces nearly touch.

“Or we can what?”

“Spend the night on more pleasurable things. If you want the specifics: sex, mostly. Though I’d definitely also like to have those nipples in my mouth at some point.”

You move forward until your lips meet. Jin kisses with the perfect balance between gentle and passionate. It feels like being kissed by a prince. Not that you have any experience with that, though.

You unbutton Jin’s shirt and run your hands up and down his torso. Though he is quite lean, the muscles are clearly strong.

His hands are on your butt, squeezing. He breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily.

“Can I… under the nightgown… feel skin.”

“Go ahead.”

You dive in for another kiss. Jin’s hands move under the nightgown. He trails his hands up your naked thighs and to your butt. He seems to take great pleasure from squeezing it. If his dick twitching is an indication.

You untie the front of his pants. Now there’s only his underwear in between. You glide your hand over his length. Jin moans into your mouth.

“Please, darling, can I have one of your nipples in my mouth? If you keep doing that, I’ll cum right away. I haven’t since you came onto this ship.”

“Yeah, sharing a room with your brother must suck in that respect.”

Laughing, you pull the nightgown over your head and toss it aside. As soon as you lay back down, Jin’s lips are on your nipple like those of a starved man. The way he rolls your nipple on his tongue, sucks on it and runs his lips over it has your mind short-circuiting in nearly no time.

“Like that, Jin. Mh, please don’t stop.” You don’t even notice how whiney you sound.

Jin doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you are a writhing mess. Even then he keeps going, holding you tightly.

You cum with your face buried in his hair. It muffles the sounds you make a little. Finally, once your body stops convulsing, Jin moves up to kiss you again.

“You make the cutest noises.”

“No wonder with what you just did.”

Jin chuckles, before kissing your neck. His erection is rubbing against your thigh now. It can’t be missed that he’s big. But frankly, you’ve never been more ready.

“Jin?”

“Mh, darling?”

“I’d really appreciate if I could have you in me now.”

You’re not sure if Jin is coughing or laughing or both.

“You sure know what you want. Phrased very politely, though.”

“Just because you’re a pirate captain doesn’t mean I need to be rude.”

“True. How could I say no to such a nice request. On all fours.”

Jin lets go of you. You untangle from each other, and you get on all fours, sticking your butt up. Jin comes up from behind and runs his hands over your lower back. His finger pads are calloused from things like sword fighting and handling ropes.

He pulls down your underwear and traces his fingers along your slit. It sends electricity through your body.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Can you play with yourself while I push in? It might be easier that way.”

So you play with your clit. You can feel his head touch your entrance. He pushes in very slowly. It feels a bit tight, but not painful. Once in he gives you a bit of time to adjust. You were right in your assumption that he’s big. He fills you very well now.

“I think you can start moving now. Just, slowly, okay?”

“Of course, darling.” His voice sounds strained.

He sets a slow and controlled pace. Slowly, you relax more around him and can give in to all the pleasure. In this position, he rubs against you G-spot in a way that makes you dry sob into your forearm.

“You feel so nice, darling. Good grace.”

Jin slaps your ass. It takes you by surprise. Your head comes up and you arch your back more.

“You like that, huh?”

Jin slaps your other butt cheek. You squeeze around him.

“Fuck, darling. Okay. Enough.”

He withdraws from you. You suddenly feel very empty. You whine.

“Turn around. We aren’t done yet.”

You turn onto you back.

“Are you okay with this position?”

“Definitely.”

Jin pushes back in. You sigh in relief. This is definitely where he’s supposed to be. He lowers himself over you. Like this, you are chest to chest, face to face. It’s a more intimate position, but it doesn’t bother you one bit.

Jin picks back up the slow movements, but they quickly become faster, harsher. It has you moaning into his ear practically non-stop.

Your nails claw at his back, your legs are hooked around his waist.

“My beautiful y/n”, Jin whispers.

His hair is hanging wet into his eyes.

“Jin”, you press out before cumming. As you come down from your high, Jin’s thrusts become sloppier. His hips come to a stuttering halt as he fills you with his warm cum.

His eyes go from glassed over to crystal clear quickly after that. He pulls out and gets towels from the dresser to clean you up.

After that, he lays down next to you. You slowly crawl closer.

“Is it okay… Can I?” You nod at his chest.

“Of course. Come here.”

You snuggle up to him. Jin pulls up the blankets around the both of you. It feels nice and cozy.

“I haven’t even dined with you. That’s not like the male honor code at all.”

“We eat together with Jungkook every evening.”

“Not the same.”

“Still counts for me. But if you insist, we can always still do that.”

“Okay.”

You place a kiss on his neck. He’s so deliciously warm. The lamp in the corner shows that he’s frowning.

“Anything else on your mind?”

“I called you mine, didn’t I?”

“It didn’t bother me. In fact, I thought it was quite a nice touch.”

“You don’t mind being mine?”

“Not in the least. So far, I’ve been enjoying it, actually.”

The frown is replaced by a smile. Jin pulls you closer and kisses your forehead.

“My y/n.”

“Mh, exactly”, you mumble before drifting off into dreamland.

 

© musicloverxoxo7, 2022

Please do not copy, translate, or repost my work. Doing so will make you legally liable for stealing intellectual property.

[dontfeeltoohot]

Steve gets a cold, Eddie takes care of him (in more ways than one), and tries to catch his boyfriends germs. - Set in my youtube au. 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI 4.2k

X X X

They spend the day lounging around. Steve has Sunday’s off, and Eddie’s lucky enough to have a pretty flexible schedule as long as he has no appointments for tattoos booked. It’s how the new couple finds themselves on the long haired man's couch, curled up under a blanket as Friday the 13th plays. They’re tangled up, legs slotted together and fingers intertwined. Eddie’s head rests on the barista’s shoulder as he sniffles and rubs at his nose.

“eiKSHHHuh! EHiiSHew!” Steve feels his cheeks warm up as he mists the top of his boyfriend's arm with the sneezes. 

His nose has been itchy since he woke up, and his first thought had been allergies, but as hours tick by, the shaggy haired man is thinking maybe he’s catching a cold, if the congestion and slight sore throat he’s starting to feel are any indication of what's to come. 

“Bless you baby,” Eddie murmurs, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You’ve been doing that an awful lot today, you feeling alright?” 

He has been doing that an awful lot. He’s sneezed at least a dozen times in the past three hours he’s been with his boyfriend. Maybe that customer that he’d helped that was sniffling and coughing hadn’t been just suffering from allergies. 

“Mm, think I might have c-caught a-snf! a cold.” 

Eddie’s eyes snap to his, widening slightly. Steve smirks, moving closer, rubbing his nose against the long haired man’s shoulder. He can feel the shiver that runs through his slender body, can see the goosebumps that start prickling on his skin. Oh yeah, he can have fun with this. 

“You can’t just say that Steve,” Eddie licks his lips, watching him. 

“But it’s true,” the barista plays up, giving a slight pout. “I feel all itchy, I can feel congestion starting to build up in my head.” 

The other man squirms, hand tightening just barely on his shirt. Steve sniffles a few times, still looking at his boyfriend, whose cheeks are dusted pink. It’s adorable, and though everything is still new, this is almost familiar. Maybe it’s from listening to Eddie’s wavs so much, or maybe it’s just Steve’s desire to both be taken care of and make the musician all flustered. 

“Poor bubba,” Eddie runs a hand through Steve’s hair and leans down, rubbing the tips of their noses together. 

Steve sniffles and moves his hand, pulling away to rub at the tip where an itch has started buzzing again. It tickles in a way that’s so close but so far off at the same time. His boyfriend holds his hand and they turn their attention back to the television. 

The rest of the day goes in similar fashion. Thunder and lightning boom and crackle outside, rain pounding on the windows. They move through The Exorcist, Sleepaway Camp, and then begin the Conjuring series. Steve’s never seen any of these, he’s not usually a horror guy. October to him means Hocus Pocus and The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. It’s fun to steal glances of Eddie, who’s enjoying every minute of the movies. 

Except, now it’s 4:49 in the morning, and Steve’s lying awake after coming out of a dream about his boyfriend being possessed, and he can’t breathe through his nose at all. His sinuses feel full and sniffling makes him cough. Rubbing his nose in a small circle, feeling it run, the coffee shop owner looks around, spying the box of tissues on Eddie’s nightstand. 

Fumbling out of bed, he goes to the other side and grabs it, plucking one out as he crawls back inside the warm cocoon they’ve made, giving his nose a blow. It’s productive but any congestion that’s been relieved instantly is replaced. His nose tickles, all consuming. It makes his thin nostrils widen, a trail of mess making its way down. Glancing at Eddie, he confirms he’s still asleep, so he mentally prepares himself as the tickle flares. 

“hhGkTch! SNF! ehKXxTuhh! Snfsnf-eiKSHH!!! Guh…snf!” 

Stifling only makes the tickle worse, as well as causes twin lines of snot to sluggishly start dribbling down to his upper lip. Steve’s unable to focus, unable to even register the mess, because his eyes are already fluttering shut again, pink rimmed nostrils flaring. 

“EHIHKSHHEW! hehIHJKSHuh!” 

He can feel the mess this time, warm against the skin under his nose. Grabbing another tissue, he presses it to his sensitive nose, rubbing and punching at the rims to try to get at the fuzzy, coldish tickle putting up a fight. 

“Cold seems to be bothering your poor nose,” Eddie says next to him, and Steve jumps from the sudden noise. 

Eyes opening, he keeps the tissue in place, absentmindedly still rubbing as he nods. The artist looks sleep rumpled and soft, eyes a little puffy from just having woken up. He’s smiling, watching in a way Steve kind of preens over. He’s not used to having someone enjoy his colds. 

“Itches,” the younger blows his nose again, wiping at the mess that almost soaks through the soft tissue. 

“Sounds like it. How long have you been awake?” 

“Just a little while, maybe half an hour,” Steve shrugs, voice rounding the words out, maybe sounding more like baby. 

“Should’a woken me. Wanna take care of you,” Eddie says with a sleepy rasp, sitting up and stretching. “You’re calling out of work right? No way you can be serving people drinks all day.” 

“Yeah…Robin’s gonna be pissed,” he slides a hand down his face, knowing Eddie’s right, even if it’s already making him anxious. 

Grabbing his phone off of the bed side table next to him, Steve pulls up his text messages and clicks Robin’s name. 

Hey, apparently I picked up a killer cold. Don’t think you want me at work with how much snot I’m producing. I’m really sorry Robs. 

Eddie’s moving closer to him, pressing a palm to his forehead, then moving it to his cheek. It’s so intimate it makes his entire body hot, and he leans into it a little, giving a timid smile. 

“What’s the verdict doc?” 

“A little warm, maybe slightly elevated. Nothing too worry about for now.” 

His phone buzzes. 

That sucks man, I’m sorry. I can handle it, it’s a Tuesday. Just get better. I’ll get Max to come in later today and tomorrow to help. No offense but I don’t feel like catching your plague. You let Eddie take good care of you ;) 

“She’s a menace.” 

“Nah, that’s sweet. It’s nice she already is counting for you to be out tomorrow.” 

“She just knows I suck at covering properly,” Steve jokes, leaning his head against Eddie’s shoulder. 

A wet, soupy sniffle makes another tickle appear, and Eddie, who’s wrapped an arm around him, doesn’t let him pull away to grab a tissue. He’s tired enough he can’t bring himself to care too much. Instead, he presses his face right into the man’s t-shirt. 

“There we go, just sneeze, handsome.” 

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. 

“EIKSHhHhuh! ahIKSHUH!” 

Steve can feel how wet it is, how he dampens Eddie’s shoulder. Pulling back, twin strands still connecting him to the, the barista goes to wipe it away, but his boyfriend beats him to it, using his thumb to swipe at his nose, still a little itchy from the cold in his head. Eddie’s cool skin against his warm nose feels nice. 

“Still got more in there?”

A playful tap on the tip of his nose has Steve nodding again. The feeling is there, but it’s not strong enough, and after a few seconds, it retreats. 

“Damn it,” Steve groans and lets Eddie rub a tissue against his stinging nose. 

“Hate it when that happens,” the older man agrees, yawning. “I was going to suggest I make you tea, but now I remember you hate it. Heathen.” 

Laughing softly, Steve gives a ‘what can you do smile’ and then takes a tissue, blowing his nose again before dropping it into the growing pile next to him. Eddie leans closer, then presses a kiss to his lips. 

“You’ll get sick.” 

“…what do you think I’m trying to do Stevie?” 

It makes them both shift a little as he says it. 

“You like that Steve? Me catching your cold? Kissing you when you’re all germy and contagious?” 

Steve can’t help the whine that he emits, his arms finding Eddie’s shoulders, hands clasping around the back of his neck. He leans forward and kisses his boyfriend, and they both can feel the dampness accumulating on Steve’s upper lip, smearing onto Eddie’s. He pulls back after another, quicker kiss, catching his breath since he can’t inhale through his nose. 

His boyfriend looks at him, eyes bright and smile cheeky, then rubs at his own nose, palm pushing the mess that’s been passed, upwards. It slicks up the tattooist’s nostrils, and then Eddie sniffles a bit, looking pleased with himself. Steve’s acutely aware his face is probably flushed for reasons other than a slight fever, and his body feels like it’s been electrified. 

“Ohmygod,” Steve exhales in one breath, making his boyfriend laugh. 

“There’s no turning back now.” Eddie says, lips quirked upward, likes he’s the cat who’s got the cream. 

“God you’re so-SNFSNF! so hot.” 

“Look in a mirror, Harrington. Now,” the man pushes Steve back a little, careful not to hit his head on the headboard. “You need rest. Try and sleep ok?” 

“Y’staying?” 

“Duh, where else would I go? On my usual 10 mile run around Hawkins?” Even as he says it, Eddie wrinkles his nose as if he’s said D&D is an abomination. 

“Ha! You? running? I’d love to see it.” 

“You really wouldn’t. My legs are so skinny, and they’re like three shades paler than everywhere else,” Eddie grimaced, shaking his head. 

They both end up dozing for a couple of hours. Eddie stretches as his stomach rumbles, and Steve groans, coughing into a barely held up fist. He’s not sure if he wants to stay here while Eddie works or if he should head home to get more clothes. He thinks about subjecting Robin to this shit and scrunches his face up. 

“What’s up buttercup?” 

“I need to go get a couple of things from my place…but are you cool if I stay here? I don’t wanna get Robin sick if I can help it.” 

Eddie chuckles and nods, pressing a kiss to Steve’s now sleep-limp hair. 

“Of course baby. Kind of assumed you would be. Wouldn’t want Birdie catching her death,” he jokes, kissing Steve softly. 

“Mm, I’ll go and get my stuff when you leave for work,” the younger man nods, grabbing a tissue after the kiss so he can blow some of the excess congestion from his head. 

“Sounds good. Then you gotta rest ok? Watch tv, relax, make yourself at home. Maybe you can pick up some soup or something on your way back, so you get some food in you,” the artist suggests, standing and checking his insulin pump numbers. 

“Yes mom.” 

“It’s daddy to you, princess.” 

Steve’s mouth goes a little dry and his boyfriend laughs, giving him another kiss. 

“Fucking adorable.” 

The morning consists of Eddie making coffee and breakfast- oatmeal and eggs for the both of them, both of which Steve actually finds appetizing and easy on his sore throat. He sniffles and sneezes his way through watching Eddie get dressed and ready for work. Before long, both men are heading out the door, though Steve is dressed considerably more comfy than his boyfriend. 

“Alright. I’ll check in on you in a bit. Let me know if you need anything okay?” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s lips as they head down the steps to where their cars are parked. 

“Sounds good,” Steve smiles, kissing back before getting in and heading to his apartment, heat blasting. 

Entering his and Robin’s apartment, Steve tries to be thoughtful of his roommate, touching as little as possible as he goes to his room. Once there, he pulls out a small duffle bag from under his bed and puts some sweatpants, t shirts, socks and underwear in it, along with his own pillow (because nothing beats your own pillow especially when you’re sick), and his glasses. 

Normally, Steve forgoes them unless he has a headache, which he currently does. Plus his eyes are tired in general from his not feeling well. They’re round and gold, the frames wired and thin, and he’s had them for a few years, but they’re still holding up well. Going to the bathroom he and Robin share, Steve snags his toothbrush, toothpaste, and only his shampoo and conditioner, deciding sick days aren’t worth using product. 

By the time he’s back at Eddie’s, opening it with the spare he’s been given; and doesn’t that feel domestic, Steve’s absolutely exhausted. It doesn’t help he’d sneezed 8 times in the car before walking up. Dropping the duffle bag in Eddie’s room, the brunette grabs his toiletries and forces himself to go to Eddie’s bathroom, knowing he’ll regret not showering two days in a row. 

Stepping in after letting the water warm up, Steve lets it hit his sensitive skin. It feels amazing, and as it loosens his muscles, it also seems to loosen some of the congestion in his head. As he lathers his hair with his fancy Wella shampoo; the one Robin had suggested a while back that’s worked wonders for his already impeccable hair, his nose starts running. 

Rubbing at it with his arm, his hands still soapy, the man tries to continue on with his shower routine, rinsing the soap out then putting conditioner on. As he lets it sit and soak into his hair, Steve washes his face with the sensitive skin face wash Eddie has, having discovered he liked it more than his own, earlier in the week. 

With his head tilted back in the hot spray, rinsing everything off, something about the water hitting his face and the scents of everything intermingling makes his nose itch suddenly. Breath hitching, the man tilts his head to the side. 

“EHIKSHHuhEW! ihhDTChh’uh! hhHh! heh-IhKSHuh! ihtSCHH!!!” 

The sneezes are messy and harsh, scraping his throat as they come. He rubs his nose harshly, tilting back into the water to let it rinse away the mess. Fifteen seconds later, he groans as his breath snags. 

“ehIHtCHHuh! hehTihKSHH!! Fugck.” 

He repeats the step of rinsing away all the mess that’s against his face, then finally turns the water off and grabs the gray towel sitting right outside the shower door. Drying himself, he rubs his nose on the towel. And though the material is rough against his sensitive, chapped nostrils, it feels oddly good, getting to scrub at the itch and make it actually stop. 

Steve slips into clean underwear, sweatpants and then decides on Eddie’s ‘Halloween (1978)’ tee, it’s big and well worn, and it doesn’t make his skin hurt. After towel drying his hair; a rarity for him, and throwing it in Eddie’s washing machine with the other towels, the barista heads back to the bedroom and crawls onto Eddie’s cozy queen bed, sliding under the covers. 

He lays there for a while, letting himself drift as his mouth parts halfway, allowing the man to breathe. At some point, he wakes up to his sinuses buzzing and nose running. Too sleepy and vaguely coherent, Steve turns as his nose twitches, and presses his face right against Eddie’s pillow, nostrils quivering, rims red and damp. 

“hRTSHHhuh! ehIKSHHuh! Snfsnf! uhKSHEW!” 

Mess and spray hit the pillow, creating small damp spots. Steve sniffles wetly and coughs a little, directing that, too, onto the deep grey pillowcase. Finally shifting, the man grabs a tissue and blows his nose, attempting half heartedly to clean Eddie’s pillow off after. The crumpled tissue is tossed into the ever growing pile and then the barista falls back asleep. 

“-evie, hey baby, there we go,” Eddie’s voice is soft as Steve stirs, cracking his eyes open. 

“Eds? What times’it?” Steve sits up and sniffles, rubbing his nose with his wrist. 

“Four. Wanted to come check on you, you weren’t answering,” Eddie explains, dropping a kiss to his lips. 

Steve yawns and grabs a tissue, wiping away the mess that’s run down while sleeping, leaning into Eddie’s cool touch when he drops a palm on his forehead. He feels so sleepy, like he’s taken cold medicine, even though he knows he hasn’t. 

“I brought you soup. Figured you probably forgot or just didn’t do it.” 

Damn, his boyfriend was smart. 

“Mm, forgot,” the barista is already leaning back, eyes drooping. 

Minutes pass and he listens to Eddie moving around in the kitchen. He’s almost asleep when the artist comes back in. 

“Nope, sit up Stevie. Need to get some food and medicine in you.” 

“Nngh, fuck off,” Steve mumbles, but it’s not heated, and he doesn’t actually mean it. 

“Someone’s testy,” his boyfriend laughs, kissing his hair. 

Steve blushes. He knows he can be grumpy when he’s sick, his parents always told him, and even Robin and Max comment on it sometimes. He doesn’t mean to be, but he just…likes sleeping. He’s used to doing things on his own. Help is hard. 

“Alright princess. Soup, then meds. I’m gonna go make myself a quick snack while you eat. I still have to work another four hours, just needed to come see you.” 

By the time Eddie’s home for good, Steve’s curled up on the couch, wanting a change of scenery. The television is on, playing Seinfeld, an old comfort show of his. The long haired man walks in and sets his backpack down by the door like always, and Steve smiles at him. 

“How was the rest of-snf! work?” 

He’s got half a box of tissues crumpled next to him, and the other half waiting to be used. He’s well aware of just how pink his nose is, how the underside is slick with mess, probably chapped as well. Eddie walks over and sits on the couch, smiling back, kissing his hair. 

“It was fine. Had a couple walk-ins. Nothing too exciting,” the older man assures, rubbing his own nose a little. 

“Missed you.” 

“Missed you too. I think I might take a quick sh-howher,” the last word wavers and Steve raises an eyebrow. 

Looking at his boyfriend, Steve notices his nose is a little pink and the tell tale allergic crease on the bridge tells him his allergies must be bothering the man. His eyes are red and puffy too, like he’s been rubbing at them. Eddie must be able to see Steve’s curiosity, because he huffs and rubs his nose again. 

“Cameron was vaping right next to my table for like an hour,” he sniffles and though Steve can’t smell it, he’s sure the scent of whatever the guy's vape flavor was today, along with probably some cannabis if he was using the CBD juice. 

He can’t help but think it’s kind of adorable, how Eddie’s nose is so sensitive to the smell of weed. He’s learned during one of their late night talks that his boyfriend had even sold weed in highschool, and would smoke all the time. 

“ihhGKtSHew! ikGTshh’EW!” 

Steve waits for the last sneeze but it never comes. Instead, Eddie blows his nose a few times, rubbing at it and clearing his throat. 

“Bless you.” 

“Thanks. Okay, shower, then I’ll come cuddle you.” 

Watching the man disappear, Steve replays the sneezes in his head, eyes slipping shut as he imagines Eddie sitting with some client, trying to tattoo them while battling with the most teasing, ticklish feeling in his sinuses. His allergies have already been getting worse now that it’s Autumn. He was probably already sensitive. 

While waiting, Steve heads back into the bedroom, head feeling a little fuzzy from sitting up so long. Once again, he positions himself so he’s half on his own pillow, but the very front part of his face is brushing against his boyfriends. Rubbing his nose on the fabric, knowing he’s leaving an inordinately large amount of germs behind, he gets lost in thoughts of sick, coldish Eddie this time, shutting his eyes. The door to the bathroom opens eventually and he listens to Eddie putter around, pulling on clothes. 

“You look cozy,” the tattoo artist leans down and kisses Steve’s shoulder, then shifts so he can get into bed too. 

“Feel all coldish,” Steve admits, because really, he can’t deny it.

His throat’s finally painful, not just a little achy, and his sinuses have been throbbing. Even his ears have been tugging uncomfortably. At the feeling of Eddie’s arm around him, Steve scoots closer and lets out a sleepy sigh. 

“I’m sorry babe, anything I can get you?” 

“No, juh-snf! just you is good.” 

A tickle starts immediately swirling in his head and Steve keeps his face against Eddie’s shoulder, rubbing it against the soft shirt over and over. The older of the two shifts then tilts his head up, and then they’re noses are rubbing together. 

“hhh! Ehhdie-snfsnf!” Steve goes to rub his nose but a pale hand grabs his wrist. 

“Nope, gonna try and get at that itch for you. You just enjoy,” the man grins almost wolfishly, teeth glinting. 

Okay, fuck. That’s hot as hell. Steve squirms, nose twitching. 

“Good boy.” 

Leaning in again, Eddie keeps nuzzling their noses together, first the tip, then he angles his head so he can use the tip of his nose to brush against Steve’s nostrils, damp and dilated. 

“eISHHH-huh! HehKSHhhehw!” 

“God bl-“ 

“EhIKSHHUH! hiKDShhUH!” 

“Fucking hell.” 

Eddie pulls back only slightly, and Steve lets his sneezes mist Eddie’s face and chest, half too caught up in the absolute desperation to sneeze, and half because he knows his boyfriend is turned on. He’s turned on too. They’re both hard, he can feel it as he slots their legs together. 

“More?” Eddie asks so sweetly Steve almost dies. 

“Yeah, feels…really itchy,” he nods, and Eddie grabs a tissue, rubbing at the younger's nose, getting some of the mess. 

Steve’s breath hitches and he tilts his head back, letting Eddie do what he wants, even though he himself wants nothing more than to just scrub at his nose until it stops- if it ever will. 

“hehISHHuh! eIKSHH’EW!” 

“Big sneezes,” Eddie laughs softly, and Steve leans into the man’s neck. 

“ihKShhuh! Sorry, snf! Snuck up on me,” he teases, smiling when he feels his boyfriend's hands squeeze his hips. 

“Sorry, you’re not sorry Harrington,” Eddie kisses him again, nipping his lower lip. 

“You’re right, M’not.”

Eddie shifts and suddenly Steve is being straddled, brain short circuiting. His boyfriend, with his curls everywhere and his big brown doe eyes, leans over top of him, then drops kisses all along his jaw and down his neck, sucking at the base of his throat. 

“Hope you don’t scar, or maybe I do,” he teases, teeth biting lightly where he’s just sucked. 

“Fuck Eddie.” 

The man moves back in front of Steve’s face. Another kiss, and then- 

“I-I’m gohhna sneeze,” Steve somehow manages to get out, nose suddenly needing attention. 

Eddie pulls back and the look on his face is pure lust. He doesn’t move away, and Steve can feel his nostrils twitching, can feel how goopy his head is and how these sneezes are going to be messy. His breath hitches and Eddie runs a blunt nail against his right nostril. Steve feels his body jolt, his nose scrunch, both on their own accord. 

“That feel good Stevie?” 

“y-hh! hiDSCHH’uh! EISHH’UH!” 

“Good job baby,” Eddie continues to tease the rims of his nostrils, his touch so delicate it’s driving Steve insane. 

“Ehhddie please,” he can feel the mess sliding onto his upper lip. 

His boyfriend kisses him again and both of them whimper and whine at the same time. Steve shifts and somehow, even exhausted and kind of weak, energy drained from the cold, he still manages to flip them over, probably mostly due to catching the other off guard. 

“Steve, wh-“ Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and it takes everything in Steve not to laugh, as his hands start pulling down the artist's sweatpants. 

Looking at him, he notices his boyfriend's eyes are almost black, and he’s squirming a little. Pulling both the black sweatpants and black boxer briefs down, Steve rubs his nose across Eddie’s stomach. There’s a dip in his hip bones, and Steve kisses across it and then down his happy trail.

The small wiry hairs leading away from Eddie’snelly bottom rub against his nose and it twitches, running. He’s sure the other man can feel the dampness against his abdomen. As his nostrils flare, Steve shifts to Eddie’s thighs, nosing along the inner right. 

“iHKSHHhuh! EISHKSHH!!” Spray and mess are cool against Eddie’s warm body, and Steve smirks as he watches him jerk upward. 

“Steve oh myfuckinggod…” 

Precum is already leaking from Eddie’s cock, and Steve’s sure it’s probably throbbing with how hard it is. He lets his hand brush against it and Eddie whines loudly. 

“Fucking Christ Steve…” 

“I’ve got a cold, Eddie, don’t rush me,” Steve says in a faux-annoyed tone, sniffling soupily as he kisses his other thigh. 

“Y-You do…so hot Steve…”

“hehhh-IKSHHuh! eiXShUH!” 

A whimper makes Steve smile, and he strikes his boyfriend, barely getting a few in before he sneezes again, messy and loud. Not four seconds later, Eddie’s coming and moaning loudly, eyes shut, mouth hanging open. 

“That was hot.” 

“Tell me about it Princess.”