#proud of all these but What Couples Do might be one of my favorite things i've ever written

[fieryphrazes]

in honor of the fourth annual fieryphrazes valentine's day fic, let's look back at past entries, unrelated except for the fact that all my sappy urges were indulged, and of course that beejhawk unites all things under the sun (amen)

2024: 3 a.m.

2023: they say it's spring...

2022: what couples do

2021 (inaugural): makeout creek

[junezsq]

high school reunion

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when returning to your old high school five years later might turn into a run in with your ex, you’re not sure if you should even go. what you did not expect was that seeing him again felt like no time had passed at all. he was just so easy to talk to

right person, wrong time -> right person, right time

warnings: a few swear words, make out scene, mentions of stranger things season 2, 3 & 4, mention of nightmares & migraines, flashback

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this took me about a week but i’m honestly really proud of it :’) the steve brainrot is real so i really didn’t mind spending everyday thinking of this fic lmao. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i did writing <3

── ᵎᵎ ✦

the usually neatly made up bed that had now formed into a heap of discarded clothing items was the first sign of chaos. the desk and vanity full with hair and make up products was the second. a loud groan filled the room as you threw yourself onto your bed, feeling bumps of clothing poke into your back, but you didn’t seem to mind. “ugh, i’m not doing this.”

robin gasped and instantly turned her head to look at you, her hands still buried somewhere into your closet, “what do you mean?!”

“i’m not going.” you sighed, your eyes going over the ceiling. your hand found a piece of clothing to play with while you spoke, “i really don’t feel like seeing all of them again.” the material felt soft, like one of your sweaters, or maybe a t-shirt, “besides, i’ve got nothing to wear.”

robin raised her brows, retracting her arms from your closet so she could wave them around, “uhm, hello?? have you seen your room?” she exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips, “you’ve got clothes for an entire orphanage.”

you scoffed playfully, “nothing feels right to wear, though.” you mumbled, glancing down at the clothing item you’d been playing with; it wasn’t a sweater nor a t-shirt, but one of your favorite skirts, and even that didn’t live up to your expectations for tonight. a breath left your lips before letting go of the fabric and sitting up to look at robin, “i don’t want to get there and disappoint. you know, the girl who was supposed to be successful, but failed. miserably.”

“you didn’t fail miserably.” robin shrugged and you raised your brows at her. “okay, maybe, you didn’t go to college like you wanted, and moved back into your childhood bedroom,” she turned back towards your closet to continue digging through your clothes, “but who cares?? it’s only been five years, who knows what might’ve happened this time next year. right now, you’re single and living the life!”

you let your head fall into your hands with a sigh. your brain went over everyone that could possibly be there and when a certain name popped up you stilled. a gasp left your lips as your head snapped up to face robin’s back, “oh my god, what if steve’s going to be there?”

robin chuckled, “of course he’s going to be there, he was in your year.”

“ugh,” you groaned, letting yourself fall backwards onto your bed, “what if he wants to talk to me?? what am i gonna say?”

“just be yourself,” robin pulled one of your shirts out of your closet and assessed it before throwing it over her shoulder, “it’s not like you don’t know how to talk to him, i remember you two were, like, attached to the hip a couple years ago.”

“until we broke up.” you huffed, closing your eyes in remembrance. “i haven’t spoken to him since.”

robin didn’t seem to notice the somber undertone in your words, “yeah, but remember what happened 4 years back?.” she took out another shirt but also discarded it, “we all went through some heavy shit and you both weren’t really in the right headspace after, you know?” she pulled her attention away from your t-shirts and turned to your dresses, “maybe you just needed some time for yourself. both of you.”

you turned her words over in your head, opening your eyes again to let them go over the ceiling. when robin didn’t hear you speak up she continued, “i’m not saying you should jump on his dick the second you see him—“

“robin!” you exclaimed as you sat up again and watched how she threw another one of your dresses onto your bed. her arm basically disappeared into the back of your closet, “what i mean is, it might be awkward at first, but isn’t it worth it to talk to him and give it a shot? even if it’s just as, i don’t know, acquaintances.”

“maybe,” you mumbled, anxiously running your hands through your hair and over your face, “i just don’t want it be all awkward, with annoying small talk, which i hate, and—“

“holy shit!” robin’s voice stopped you from rattling. you watched as she pulled a long red dress from the back of your closet, “it’s perfect!”

your breath hitched when you saw the dress she’d picked. it was the dress you’d bought especially for a date you and steve were supposed to go on. you’d bought it months in advance, as a surprise, but never got to actually wear it since you’d broken up only a few weeks before you got to go.

after your and steve’s break up, you’d stuffed the dress in the back of your closet, not wanting to be reminded of how embarrassed you had felt about spending all that money on a stupid dress you never even got to wear. seeing it again, years later, made you remember why you’d bought it in the first place; it was gorgeous.

robin’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts, “what do you think??”

your eyes flickered between robin and the dress for a moment, eventually resting on robin, “i don’t know…” you sighed, “it’s been in my closet for years, i’m not sure it’ll still fit.”

robin narrowed her eyes at you, not believing your excuse for even a second, “your body type hasn’t changed at all.” she threw the dress in your lap, “and i mean that as a compliment, go on, try it!”

you sighed once more, “fine.” you mumbled, taking the dress in your hand and standing up from the comfort of your bed. you pointed your finger at robin, “but only because you’re annoying when you don’t get what you want.”

"thank you!" robin sing-songed, turning to the vanity on the other side of your room to busy herself with your make-up while you changed. your eyes stayed on robin for a moment before glancing down at the dress in your hands. while playing with the satin fabric you bit your bottom lip in uncertainty.

after standing in thought for a moment you mentally rolled your eyes at yourself. it was just a dress and it was definitely way too pretty to stuff it back into your closet for another five years.

with a light shake of your head you pealed off the clothes you were currently wearing and slipped inside the dress. while adjusting the straps on your shoulders you looked at your reflection in your mirror. a small smile grew on your lips as you let your hands glide down your hips to smooth out the fabric.

"holy mother of god." robin's voice pulled you away from your thoughts, "god is a woman, and that woman is you." you raised your brows at her words and a laugh escaped your lips, "you're insane, you know that, right?"

she smiled at you, closing the distance between you two to grab your hands and pull you towards your vanity. she moved her hands to your shoulders and pushed you down onto the chair. "okay, so, I've thought out this look that i think pairs so well with the dress." she spoke quickly as she grabbed your desk chair and sat down opposite of you, "close your eyes."

you giggled, following her orders. when you felt one of your make-up brushes touch the skin of your eyelids you smiled to yourself, appreciating this moment. after about a minute of silence, robin still focused on your make-up, you decided to voice a thought, "i know steve's your best friend, but thank you for helping me get ready for tonight."

"correction; you're both my best friends." robin slightly tilted your head up, "and do you really think steve was going to let me do his hair and make-up?" she snorted, causing you to giggle softly.

when robin moved onto your lips you opened your eyes again, seeing robin's brows knitted together in focus. "yes, perfect!" she exclaimed as she pulled back, closing the lipgloss she'd used. you turned your head to face your vanity mirror and a soft gasp left your just glossed lips when you saw yourself. "robin..."

you leaned in slightly closer to get a better look at yourself. robin had used a deep toned red to create a soft smokey eye and a gorgeous red tint lipgloss you didn't even remember owning.

"no need to thank me again," robin smirked lightly as she watched you admire the look she'd created, "i did it with love."

you turned to look at her with a wide smile, "thank you." robin threw her hands up, "i told you not to do that!" she stood up and pulled you along with her, "okay, now go kick some ass! not steve's."

you laughed at her words, again. robin had a way with words that would make sure she could get you to smile every damn time, and you adored her because of it. "I'll try my best."

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

as soon as you stepped inside the familiar hawkins high gym you let out a strangled breath. a sarcastic laugh bubbled up in your throat when you noticed the school board had decorated the hall as if it was a regular high school dance. besides the cliché 'welcome back class of 1985' posters plastered all over the walls, they'd re-used snowball decorations, and the signature punch and drinks table was stood in the same spot you remembered it stood when you were in middle school.

to try and get over your nerves you decided to head to that exact table. you tuned out the sound of music and chatter as you grabbed a cup and filled it with punch. a soft breath left your lips before turning back to let your eyes glide over everyone mingling on the dance floor. when taking a sip of the punch you noticed how the recipe must not have changed at all, since it tasted exactly the same in your memory.

"it's weird, isn't it? to be back here." a voice you recognised all too well pulled your thoughts away from your old classmates. you snapped your head to the side to be faced with the one person you were hoping not to bump into tonight. your eyes glided over his side profile as he was focused on the dance floor.

"yeah..." you spoke after a moment of silence and turned back to look in front of you and took a big sip from your punch, "not even the people, it's just," you breathed out, "something about this place, you know?"

he hummed, crossing his arms, "yeah, i mean, what other school would use the same snowball decorations for every event they hold."

a chuckle left your lips before you took another swig from your drink. "you took the words right out of my mouth, harrington." you smiled lightly, turning to look at him only to find him already looking at you with a small smirk playing on his lips.

“how have you been?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested. you looked at him for a moment longer but eventually tore your eyes away from him, focusing back on everyone happily moving around the hall, “do you want me to tell you what i tell everyone else, or do you want me to be honest?” you asked before finishing your punch, placing your empty cup on the table behind you.

“whatever you feel comfortable telling me.” he noticed how your expression was tense and how there was a slight strain in your voice as you spoke. he spoke softly, not taking his eyes off your side profile, “but you know you can be honest with me.”

the fact you hadn’t seen him in years but he still spoke to you like he cared. you swallowed, knowing you’d tell him everything in a heartbeat, “can we go for a walk?” you glanced at him, his eyes still on you as he nodded, “yeah, sure.”

you internally thanked him for not joking around or completely dismissing the fact you wanted to get out of the over stimulating gym hall. you wrapped your arms around yourself as the two of you made your way out, through the hallways and eventually all the way outside. you felt almost instantly relaxed when taking a breath of fresh air, “it’s been difficult these past few years.” you eventually spoke up, your eyes fixed on the ground as the two of you walked side by side.

you had picked the honesty option. steve glanced at your side profile, but didn’t say anything; giving you the chance to speak your mind. you swallowed, "i'll think i'm doing alright, but then i wake up in the middle of the night, crying because i somehow got transported back in time and one of those stupid demodogs is trying to attack me." you tightened your arms around yourself, "or vecna's back to take max again, but we can't save her this time."

steve grabbed your arm, stopping both of you in your tracks, "hey, you still get nightmares?" he asked quietly, and when he looked over your features he noticed the tears forming in your eyes. "i thought those were over? you told me you didn't get them anymore."

your breath hitched slightly, remembering how you'd lied about your nightmares years ago, "I didn't want you to worry."

his brows raised, "you didn't—" he shuffled on his feet so he was standing directly in front of you, "you could've told me. i was your boyfriend, it was kind of my job to worry about you."

"i'm sorry." you smiled softly at his words, glancing down at his hand that was still secured on your arm, "I know that now, but i was—"

"don't apologise." he cut you off, following your eye movement with his and with the realisation he'd been clinging to you he retracted his arm. "do you still get them often?"

you looked back up to meet his eyes, "i used to get them almost every night, but it's gotten better over the years." steve nodded, still going over your features. you didn't want the silence to grow so you decided to redirect the conversation over to him, "how about you? are you doing alright?"

he shrugged, "besides the occasional migraine, i'm doing alright, yeah."

you slightly tilted your head, "you still get those?"

steve chuckle softly, "yeah, those russians must've known what they were doing." he ran a hand through his hair, "fucked me up pretty badly."

"i know, i'm sorry..." you smiled sadly, instinctively placing your hand on his upper arm, as if to comfort him. "stop apologising for shit that's not your fault." he reached up and took your hand in his, "can't really do anything about it anyway."

you gave him a singular nod and you felt him softly squeeze your hand. the conversation fell silent as you both basked in each other’s company. even though it had been five years since you’d seen him, for some peculiar reason, it felt like no time had passed at all. talking to him had always been easy and clearly nothing had changed.

after a couple minutes you lightly shook your head, finally realizing you’d been staring at him. you averted the gaze to your surroundings and found you’d ended up at the backside of hawkins high, close to the big willow tree that was now slowly going out of bloom.

a small smile formed on your lips at the thought of the two of you ending up here. the willow tree had always been your spot; you and steve having spent most of your high school days there. hiding from the rain or taking advantage of the shade during hot summer days, it never mattered.

you were sure your laughter could be heard over the entire schoolyard, but you didn’t care. “steve!” you exclaimed as he dragged you along with him, eventually stopping right underneath the willow. he leaned against the tree and pulled you closer to him. “steve, class starts in a couple minutes.” you giggled, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“which means we still have those couple minutes to do whatever we want.” he looked at you with his signature smirk as he placed one of his hands on your waist and the other on your cheek so he could pull you flush against him, dipping his head to connect his lips with yours.

you smiled against his lips, taking hold of his arm. “steve.” you mumbled. he hummed, moving his hand to the back of your neck, as if wanting to pull you even closer even though there was no space left between you.

“steve.” you tried again, moving slightly back with a small giggle, your eyes going over his features, “miss. thomson is going to kill us if we’re late.”

“who cares about miss. thomson.” he shrugged, moving his hand that was on the back of your neck to your waist as well so he could softly squeeze your hips. you playfully rolled your eyes, “i do. if i wanna keep my perfect attendance.”

he ignored your words and kissed you again, mumbling against your lips, “missing one class won’t hurt.”

you decided to just give in, already knowing there was no chance in hell steve was going to let you go. your hands found their way to his chest and up to his shoulders. he smirked against your lips when he realized he’d convinced you to stay.

you melted into the firm, but also soft, kiss. you and steve had kissed a multitude of times, but you knew you’d never grow tired of it; there was just something special about the way his lips felt on yours. your let your hands tangle up into his hair as you raised yourself to stand on your toes, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

the sudden blaring sound of the school bell interrupted you and you pulled back with a gasp. you glanced backwards to see everyone making their way inside the school building, “shit!” you cursed, looking back to steve who still had his eyes focused you, “come on, we gotta get to class!”

you untangled your hands from his hair and grabbed one of his hands. just when you started to take a step away from him, wanting to take him with you, steve pulled you back against him and placed his lips on yours once more. you immediately melted back into the kiss, but detached yourself from him not even a few seconds later.

“steve!!” you looked at him with wide eyes, “i hate you. come on!” you turned and started running off towards miss. thomson’s class, dragging him along with you.

your eyes were focused on the willow as you smiled at the memory. it was one of many, but all memories you had created with steve underneath the hawkins high willow tree were some of your favorites.

“what are you thinking of?” his voice pulled you away from your thoughts and when you turned to look at him you found him already looking at you, the exact same smirk as all those years ago playing on his lips.

you returned his smirk as you let your eyes wander over his features; they had matured but he was so obviously the same steve harrington as years ago, “i think you know.”

he chuckled, “i’m pretty sure all we did here was make out,” he glanced at the tree before focusing back on you, the smirk still playing on his lips “or maybe you remember something different.”

you laughed and lightly shook your head, “you haven’t changed at all, have you?”

he returned your laugh, running a hand through his hair. when a soft wind rustled the willow tree, he noticed how you shivered at the cold air, “wanna go back inside?” he asked softly.

“yeah, maybe we should start mingling with all the others,” you smiled softly. steve chuckled and offered you his arm. you smiled in appreciation, looping your arm through his and placing your hand in his bicep, “we have got to find out how many boyfriends christine martin has had by now.”

steve smiled but kept silent as you made your way back towards the school entrance. it was a comfortable silence and you cherished the moment you had just shared with him. when you were about to set foot inside, steve leaned closer, “you look beautiful, by the way.” he whispered in your ear, “i haven’t had the opportunity to tell you, but i’ve been thinking it since the moment i first saw you tonight.”

you turned your head to look at him and could tell he was slightly nervous telling you that, not knowing how you would react. however, you just smiled, reached up to place a soft kiss on his cheek and pulled him inside with you before he could say anything else.

[snoopyhughes]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

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

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[goldfades]

COCKY ─── QUINN HUGHES

request: "omg could you pls do quinn hughes + couple tiktok trends <3"

The living room is flooded with the soft glow of the TV, casting a cozy haze over the slightly cluttered space. Quinn is sprawled out on the couch, hoodie half-zipped, and socks mismatched, scrolling through his phone with the kind of focus he usually reserves for hockey tape jobs. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, phone propped up on the coffee table, the TikTok app open and taunting you with its endless rabbit hole of trends.

It started as a joke—something to pass the time while Quinn’s team was on a rare break. But it didn’t take long for you to realize that getting him to participate in TikTok couple trends was way too easy. He’d say no at first, always the picture of stoic reluctance, but then you’d bat your eyes, tilt your head just enough, and he’d sigh in defeat like clockwork. “Fine, but only one,” he’d always mutter, knowing full well he was about to film at least five.

Tonight, though, you’ve got something special in mind. You’ve seen the trend a dozen times: girlfriends quizzing their boyfriends on things they’re almost guaranteed to get hilariously wrong, but reacting like they’ve just unlocked the secrets of the universe. The best part? Quinn’s sweet spot is his competitiveness—he genuinely likes being good at things. Even if those things are, well, completely unrelated to reality.

“Babe,” you call, dragging out the word as you wiggle your way onto the couch beside him.

He glances up, suspicion already brewing in his eyes. “What?”

“You trust me, right?”

“That’s a dangerous question.”

“C’mon, it’s just a quick TikTok. Super easy.”

He squints at you, leaning back into the cushions. “You said that last time, and then you made me guess your favorite color while holding an egg. What was the point of the egg?”

“None, but it was hilarious. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” You grab his hand and tug him upright. “This one’s even easier, I promise. All you have to do is guess what things mean.”

“Like trivia?” He perks up slightly, his competitive streak flickering to life.

“Exactly,” you say, biting back a grin. Oh, this is going to be so good.

Quinn sits cross-legged on the couch now, facing you with his arms loosely folded over his chest, his expression a mix of cautious interest and the tiniest sliver of smug confidence. You set the phone up on the coffee table, adjusting the angle until the two of you are perfectly framed. He leans in to inspect it, pointing at the screen.

“Wait, is this live?” he asks, eyebrows shooting up.

“No, it’s a draft. We’re not live. Relax,” you laugh, lightly swatting at his arm. “Okay, are you ready?”

“I was born ready,” he says with a mock-serious tone, earning an eye-roll from you. He smirks.

“Alright,” you begin, sitting up straighter, adopting your most serious, quizmaster tone. “First question: what is a pap smear?”

His brow furrows as he leans back, clearly thrown off by the question. He taps his fingers against his knee like he’s analyzing game footage. “Pap smear…” he repeats, drawing the words out as if they might reveal their meaning if he says them slowly enough. “It’s… a type of makeup? Like… winged liner or something?”

Your jaw drops in mock shock, and you let out a gasp that could win an Oscar. “Oh my god, yes! That’s exactly it!” you exclaim, clapping your hands together.

His face lights up, the corners of his mouth quirking into a proud grin. “Really? I was just guessing.”

“Quinn, you’re so smart,” you gush, leaning closer like you’re genuinely in awe. “I don’t know how you do it.”

He straightens up, his shoulders squaring. “Well, you know, I pay attention. I pick things up.”

You suppress a laugh and move on, scrolling to the next “question” in your mental list. “Okay, next one. What’s the difference between toner and micellar water?”

“Oh, easy,” he says immediately, waving a dismissive hand. “Toner is for your hair, and micellar water is… like, for cooking. Like rice water or something.”

You press your lips together, eyes widening in faux amazement. “Stop it right now. That’s… exactly right. Are you secretly a dermatologist or something?”

He runs a hand through his hair, his grin growing even wider. “Nah, I just know stuff. You’d be surprised how much I pick up from you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, the way he’s sitting there all puffed up like he just nailed a final exam making it almost too much to handle. But you’re committed.

“Okay, okay, next one’s a little harder,” you say, putting on a thoughtful expression. “What’s a menstrual cup?”

He pauses for a moment, his confidence faltering just a touch. “Uh…” His fingers drum against his thigh as he considers it. “Like… a trophy? For… women’s sports?”

You gasp dramatically again, throwing your hands up like he’s just hit the jackpot. “Yes! Oh my god, Quinn, you’re literally on fire right now. I didn’t think you’d get that one.”

He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “I mean, come on, you’re not giving me enough credit here. I know things.”

“You really do,” you say earnestly, watching as he practically glows under the praise. You’re pretty sure his ego has reached dangerous levels, but the sight of him so genuinely excited—and so hilariously wrong—has you biting back giggles.

“Okay, last one,” you say, holding up a finger. “What is… a cuticle pusher?”

His face twists in concentration. “A cuticle pusher… that’s gotta be, like, a tiny rake? For gardening? Like… for plants in small pots or something?”

You slap your hands over your mouth, your eyes going wide with mock amazement. “Oh. My. God. YES. How did you even know that? Did you take a secret gardening class or something?”

He throws his head back, laughing, clearly reveling in his perfect score. “I knew that one would get you. I told you, I’m good at this stuff.”

You can’t hold it in anymore and dissolve into laughter, leaning into his shoulder as he looks down at you, still grinning. “What?” he asks, a little suspicious now.

“Nothing,” you manage between giggles, waving him off. “You’re just… amazing, Quinn.”

He shakes his head, his expression softening. “Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”

You reach for the phone to stop recording, already knowing this TikTok is going to break the internet.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[i314flix]

— PART ONE, PART TWO.

the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 3k

rating: PG-15

content: fluff, established relationship au; gryffindor!reader

warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem

opening note. it took a whole year for me to finish writing this part two lmao, but for the readers who got to read part one way back, i hope y’all like this!

Being seen with Sirius—and frequently, might you add—indeed became the talk of the town for the first few days.

As soon as the news spreaded, Iris and Martha, your close friends, interrogated you endlessly inside your shared room at the dormitory, asking a bunch of questions that ranged from how did Sirius confess and what did you feel for the aforementioned guy.

They labeled themselves as ridiculous and as oblivious as you were when they realized that all the gestures that Sirius has been doing in all the times they accused him of liking Iris were actually directed to you. They apologized, for not seeing it themselves and for not thinking of you as the person Sirius liked, and told you that they were going to be happy and supportive of you as long as they saw that you were happy too and that Sirius treated you well.

When your Hogsmeade date came, you spent the whole day just getting to know Sirius. Turns out, he was more well-mannered than you thought. He was a gentleman; he opened doors for you, offered to pay for everything, was the one who ordered your meal, stood up whenever you wanted to follow up something from the counter, and carried your bag when you bought some sweets from Honeydukes.

But what you liked most about him now was how he seemed genuinely interested in you and whatever that happened in your life. He made it apparent that he really was keen on discovering more about who you really were, from your hobbies, to your favorite things, and where you grew up.

“My parents… I don’t know if you’ve heard it from somewhere,” you began as you walked with him back to the path that led back to the Hogwarts castle, “but they’re, uh, Muggles. So, that means—”

“You’re Muggleborn,” Sirius supplied for you, appearing not even the slightest bit bothered by the fact. “And you don’t have any siblings, do you?”

You answered him, quite confused that he didn’t dwell too much on your revelation, but chose to drop it for now. “None.”

“Ah, so that makes you the only witch in your family.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “uh, does that sound okay?”

He glanced at you with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You’re a Pureblood, and you come from an excellent line of wizards.”

“You have a point,” he said, still nonchalant as ever, “but I’m… well, you can say I’m a bit different from them. I mean, to start it off, I’m a Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Plus, I’ve moved out from my home decades ago.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I live with James over the summer. His parents treat me as their own. Nicest couple, the Potters.”

“Wow. I never knew.”

“Well, being a teenage runaway and an outcast in my own family isn’t exactly something I should be proud of.”

You both laughed.

You were relieved to find out that there was no issue about you being a Muggleborn, especially since as stated, he came from a family of impressive and some well-known wizards who—from what you remembered—believed that being a Pureblood was equivalent to being practically royalty in the wizarding world.

Even if you knew that he wasn’t like that to begin with, there was still some doubt in your mind that perhaps his mindset is the same as theirs, considering that you’ve been a victim of prejudice over the years you studied in Hogwarts and was even called a Mudblood by a Pureblood student when you surpassed them on an exam in second year.

So, to have a confirmation right now was great. You were happy to hear from him that he didn’t have any problem with it, unlike some people who you’ve caught muttering to themselves about how Sirius could associate himself with a person like you, which inevitably led to some insecurities building up.

“Do you reckon I can get away with taking you out again next week?” asked Sirius once you were back in the Gryffindor common room, stopping before you where you stood at the last step of the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitory.

Your eyebrows rose. “There’ll be a next time?”

“Yes. If that’s okay with you,” he said with a patient smile. “Or did I read the signals wrong and you actually hated spending time with me today?”

“Don’t be foolish. I didn’t hate it.”

“You didn’t?”

“Not one bit.”

“Then how did you like it?” He was suddenly doing it again, that thing he does wherein he moves closer to you and you were bound to move away because of shyness, but somehow at this instance, you couldn’t command your feet to do its usual response.

“Hm?”

“Was it nice?” He continued, a hand now placed on the stairs’ handrail, leaning towards it. “Was it okay? Was it average? Would you ever want to be with me again?” He was teasing, it was evident on his big smile and his mischievous expression.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” You frowned cutely.

“Oh, I really don’t.”

“Sirius…”

“Tell me what you think,” he urged, tone gentle.

There were girls from your house walking down the steps, seeing the scene of Sirius gazing at you and you looking flustered playing in front of them. They hushed among themselves, glancing at you in envy, and you felt your cheeks burn at the attention.

“It was nice.” You told him finally.

“Just nice?”

“Wonderful,” you corrected.

He nodded solemnly, waiting.

“And I’d like to do it again sometime.”

He grinned. “That’s more like it. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

You smiled down at the floor. “As if I was going to say something else.”

He lifted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. “Still, I like hearing it come from your lips.”

Before you went upstairs to your room, Sirius reached for your hand and kissed the back of it, winking at you and then heading to the boy’s dormitory.

For the following weeks, the both of you were consistently hanging out and going on dates. It reached a point wherein your respective friend groups were starting to merge. It was either Martha and Iris who were going to be with you two, while anyone from Sirius’ own friends tagged along and joined the party as well.

You were naturally growing more comfortable with Sirius day by day. You even allowed him to hold your hand by the third date. He has stolen a few kisses on your forehead and cheek, and has laid his head on your lap whenever you were in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sometimes getting your hand and placing it gently on his hair, asking if you would stroke it as he tried to take a nap.

Everything was going at such a smooth and great pace.

Sirius was great. His friends were great. What you were feeling for him was getting stronger.

The only problem was the bitter people who had no business having a say in your blooming relationship.

You knew you shouldn’t mind them, but it was hard when you could hear students whispering about you in classes and during breaks, always going on about how someone like you didn’t seem to be a good fit for Sirius, either in deep belief that Purebloods shouldn’t date Muggleborns or that you were far too quiet and timid to be a wonderful match for the ever so magnetic Sirius Black.

You couldn’t agree more, to be frank. However, your greediness and happiness were what mattered to your most in situations like these that you managed to fade those comments out.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

Or influenced you to sometimes see yourself in a harsher light.

“I knew you’d still be here,” Sirius spoke from behind you, a quick kiss being planted on your temple before he took the spot next to you on the sofa.

It was past midnight, and you were still working on an essay for History of Magic. You promised Sirius an hour or two ago that you weren’t going to stay up too late, but you haven’t been adding any new paragraphs to your essay because of your overthinking, so that meant you also haven’t reached your personal quota that was made in the first place to prevent you from cramming the said output.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” you replied, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t you say you have training for Quidditch in the morning?”

“I do.”

“Which means you really have to go to bed.”

“I tried to. Really. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not? Do you need warm milk or a frame that has dozens of sheep for you to count to help you get drowsy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ha, very funny, but I actually wanted to make sure that you were already in your room. It’s not good to be here all alone.”

“I do it all the time. Nobody’s usually up in the common room at this hour, anyways.”

“Well, next time, tell me, so I’ll keep you company.”

“Oh, but that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “However, I insist. Come on, love, we’ve talked about this.”

You smiled, apologetic. “Sorry. I should know better, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, you told me that you’re still getting used to it, so I’m not holding that against you.”

“Yeah. But that’s just it, actually. I know that I should be getting used to it. To us… to you… but my brain keeps telling me that it’s bad to do so.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” you trailed awkwardly, realizing that you might have said too much, but you didn’t want to stop giving him a little bit more of your thoughts, getting a sudden rush of courage you’ve been wanting to have, “perhaps just, I feel like… I don’t deserve this. Any of what’s happening between us.”

Sirius stared at you, confused. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I just feel like this is all a wonderful dream that I’d have to wake up from soon.”

“____,” he began to say your name, but you shook your head, already sensing where it was heading.

“You don’t have to say anything, Sirius. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you’re making me feel.”

“Then what’s making you think this way? Is it because of what the others are saying?”

In your silence, he got the answer he needed.

“It’s absolute rubbish, you know,” he said. He sat up straight too, appearing more passionate now. “People don’t know what they’re blabbering about. All they want is to stick their noses into others’ businesses when they don’t know anything.”

“Sometimes they have a point, though.”

“Such as?”

“Such as you being a Pureblood and me being a Muggleborn not making any sense.”

He seemed frustrated at that. His nostrils flared a bit when you mentioned it. “Since when did that matter anymore? Lily and James are literally the same.”

“Yeah, but we’re not the same same as them. We’re still different. Lily’s different. She’s much more spectacular than I am.”

 “Come on, you’re being absurd. You’re amazing, ____.”

You had the nerve to laugh. “It’s fine, really. You don’t have to make me feel better. If there’s something that I’m used to, it’s this.” You sighed, going back to your previous position and focusing back on your parchment. “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.”

“No, don’t be,” he reached for your hand and forced you to face him again, in which you did, but you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I should be the one apologizing. I haven’t been checking up on you about this. I should have known better that this was something that would bother you.”

“What do you even see in me, Sirius?”

“What?”

“We nearly have nothing in common. You should be someone who’s at the same level as you are.”

“No, I don’t. I much rather be with you—regardless of how different we are, I don’t particularly care and I never thought of it as an issue nor will I ever do.” Sirius pursed his lips, appearing a bit nervous now because of what he was going to say. “Look, ____, I like you so much. I like every aspect of you and what kind of person you are. I see what you’re made of, and I cherish you very much because of it. I like your kindness, your wit, your energy, and your whole being. You’re simply the easiest person to adore, and I’m utterly puzzled that you cannot see it.”

Your tongue felt dry. No one has ever declared what they felt for you in that manner before. It caused your eyes to tear up a bit at the overwhelming reality that there was a person out there who saw you this way, who liked you for who you are and didn’t give two cents of what others thought of about it. You were so accustomed to being unseen, not given that much importance to, that to have Sirius tell you what you meant to him brought indescribable contentment in your heart.

So, without thinking, you leaned towards him and kissed his lips, bringing your arms around his neck while he parted his mouth in surprise, nonetheless wrapping his own around your waist to support your weight on him.

Sirius reciprocated the kiss, matching the vigor you were showing him, despite being shocked that you were the one who initiated your first ever real kiss with him. He was under the impression that it would take more dates before the both of you would reach this point, a concept that he didn’t have any problem with since he was sincere when he said he’d be patient with you, and that he’d be the one who was going to test the waters before asking if you were good with the thought of him planting a kiss on your lips.

“I like you so much too, Sirius,” you whispered, pulling away and gasping for air. “Having you be in my life is perhaps one of the most unexpected yet greatest things to happen to me.”

He grinned at that, pressing another firm kiss on your lips that made you sigh. “You’re so wonderful, love. I should’ve been with you since first year if only I wasn’t a bloody coward.”

You both laughed at his statement.

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You have a lifetime now to show me what I’ve been missing.”

“You’re exceptionally bold tonight.” He observed.

“Well, the guy I have been crushing on and dating just made a heartfelt declaration of his attraction to me so I’m feeling my best.”

“About time that he did, honestly. Will this guy have the honor of being officially your boyfriend if he asked tonight?”

Your eyes widened. “That depends. Is he going to ask right now?”

“He’s about to. Just after he stops pretending that he’s pertaining to another guy and not himself.”

Another laugh and you were kissing him again, Sirius holding onto you tightly as he kept you in his embrace.

“Be mine?” he murmured against you, drawing his head back a little so he could stare directly at your eyes.

You smiled. You were on cloud nine; there was nothing that could ruin your entire year. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Sirius leaned for a longer kiss, much longer than the one you just shared earlier. He thought of how he could stay all night like this, how he might have to fake sickness just to ditch quidditch practices so he wouldn’t have to wake up so damn early, but before he could seriously contemplate it, you retracted your mouth from his and was telling him that he should go back to sleep because he had a tiring day ahead of him.

He frowned, wanting to kiss you again but you shook your head, evading his advances and giggling. “Sirius, you have practice in a few hours,” you told him again, “and I have to finish my essay too. You should head back.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“But—”

“No, no.” You stood up and pulled him with you. “As your girlfriend now, my opinion holds more bearing, so when I say that you should go back to sleep—”

“I should follow you?” he finished, allowing you to lead him back to where the boy’s dormitory is headed.

You grinned, teasing. “Only if you want to, of course.”

He snorted. “You promise not to stay up too late? Because as your boyfriend, I should be entitled to stop you from making bad decisions as well.”

“Yes, I won’t. You have my word.”

“Good.” Sirius pecked your lips. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

An even bigger grin made its way to your features. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at lunch?”

He nodded. “You’ll probably catch me standing at the Gryffindor table too. I have to announce to the whole school that you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re still available, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.”

“Sirius.”

“Goodnight. Dream of me, would you?” He snickered, abruptly rushing to the dormitory and leaving you there, speechless.

You were positive that he was only bluffing to tease the hell out of you who was not a fan of too much attention, but somehow, considering Sirius’ track record of being mischievous, you suddenly feared that he was not bluffing like you reckoned him to be.

Not to mention that he could be really petty at times too, and given that a lot of students still did not believe that a person like him would like a person like you, making a dramatic proclamation of how much he liked you and how much he hated those who couldn’t keep their idiotic opinions to themselves would certainly make a point.

For some reason, you found yourself smiling at the idea, secretly pleased that you had Sirius—the person you were now sure would move the earth and moon for you if that was what you wanted.

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

[g0thc0re420]

Manicure: Spock x Reader

Song: Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

CW: MINORS DNI!! smut. from the very beginning it’s just smut. hand fetish (it’s foreplay with a vulcan lol.) oral fixation with fingers (finger sucking, gagging on fingers). breeding kink (but like also trying for a baby) hair pulling. 

Spock might be a little OOC but honestly I stand behind the idea that loves being very touchy with the people he loves and adores the most.

Spock didn’t know what he was expecting when he entered the code to your room, but it certainly wasn’t this. He had seen you many different ways, sick, excited, even naked, but this was different. He scrunched his nose, the smell of nail polish wafting across the room. He saw you, sitting criss-cross in front of your coffee table. You had a row of metal nail instruments and a cleaner sitting in front of you. You were happily singing along to the background music you had on. 

It was one of his favorite things about you, you always seemed to have the right music for any situation. You had even curated a playlist for him for his birthday, Spock listened to it frequently. It took him a moment but he soon recognized the melody flowing into the room. He stood across from you, contentedly watching, trying to not disturb the focus you held on the cuticles of your fingers.

“Kisses on the foreheads of the lovers, wrapped in your arms,” You softly sang as you looked up at him. Noticing his shadow fall over the table. You gently smiled at him, scooting over on the floor to make some room for him, patting the floor next to you.

He sat, forgetting what he was needing to talk to you about, “T’hy’la, might I inquire how your day was?” He felt breathless, watching as you gently started buffing the previous layer of clear polish off. 

“McCoy was more annoying than usual, but other than that I would say my day went pretty well. I was able to start research on testing to see if there is a genetic predisposition for Bendii Syndrome.” You had now moved to shaping your nails, and Spock was watching every movement. “It seems the Vulcan high council is now more set on completely eradicating it. And they chose a human to do it.” A smile Spock had only seen a couple times appeared on your face. You were proud of yourself. This smile had mainly been reserved himself, although Spock was never really sure if he ever deserved it when you looked at him like that.

You were now taking the cleaning solution and cotton balls and wiping the dust from all the filing off your nails. Spock couldn’t keep his eyes off your hands as you inspected your hand, stretching your fingers and humming at your handiwork, “Do you think they look good?”

Spock noticed how his mouth had run dry, he swallowed thickly before flicking his eyes to yours, you were waiting patiently for his response, even wiggling your fingers in the air for a dramatic effect. He watched as your look slowly shifted to one of concern. 

“Spock, are you feeling okay?” You slowly shifted, facing toward him, and Spock finally looked somewhere other than your hands. Noticing the black tank top you were wearing. His eyes falling over your exposed skin, eyeing the intricate details of the tattoos that covered your arms. He felt a very human emotion fill him, and soon he would be showing you just how he was feeling. 

“Spock,” he blinked, looking into your eyes as you snapped, “Are you feeling well? You’re turning green-oh.” He watched as you shifted your weight, finally realizing.

“I promise I am in perfect health my dear. Your hands look great. Please continue.” You nodded sheepishly and he watched as blush creeped over your neck and cheeks, before turning back to the table. Slowly pulling a thin coat of clear polish over your nails, before placing them under a UV light. After a moment or two the timer went off. You wiped them clean once again before placing your hand in front of you.

Spock had been resisting the urge for so long he felt almost robotic as he reached forward and grabbed your hand. Pulling it towards his face as he traced the lines of your fingers. He felt another wave of lust roll through him as he moved behind you, pulling you into his lap, the feeling of his cock straining against his pants was getting to be too much.

You squeaked at the sudden movement, moving around in his lap, Spock let out a soft moan as you pressed against him, just trying to get comfortable. He closed his eyes, letting his hands fall at your hips. He had missed you today. There wasn’t a moment today that either of you could steal away. You had spent all day in back to back Federation meetings and holed away in the research labs. Spock had spent the better part of his day on the surface of a new planet. Finding an interesting micronism, he had a suspicion it was a type of fungi, but as of right now, he wasn’t sure. Right now, he couldn’t focus on anything. 

“Spock,” Your voice was quiet, “I’m finished, do you wanna see them?” He could hear you lightly tap them on the table in front of you. He couldn’t help the way he snaked his hands up your body, before sitting forward, pressing his chest against your back. Gingerly taking your hands into his, he let go of the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. The way you could make him feel so human, yet so Vulcan at the same time always baffled him. It was the way you truly saw him as who he was. Never comparing either side or trying to push him to either. You always looked at Spock as if he was a complete being.

“They might be the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen.” He mused aloud as he started playing with your fingers. 

You took a second and adjusted yourself, turning in his lap so your chests pressed each other’s. “I think that might be the highest compliment I could ever receive from you.” You were looking at where your fingers lined with his, a shiver running through you as you inspected the size difference. He watched as you took the opportunity and stole a second for a Vulcan kiss, your fingers almost dancing over his, as if you were nervous to make a move like that. Then, without warning you gently kissed his knuckles. The kiss was barely a whisper, your lips gently grazing over his skin, almost as if you were teasing him. He didn’t miss the way your lips twitched at the corners as a breath caught in his throat. 

“I missed you today. I know Vulcan’s require less sleep, but Spock you were gone before I was awake and I woke up at 0500.” Your thumb works soothing circles on the back of his hand. The love you held for him, washed into him as you pressed your palms together. It clicked for Spock that you had genuinely worried about him today. The light touches and kisses a way of conveying that softness to him. 

“I apologize. My intention was not to worry you. I’ve been working on some interesting research. We found an oceanic micronism in the water testing samples and it’s displaying some interesting characteristics. It may be a certain type of fungi. However, I am not certain-” Spock had noticed the look on your face, he had seen that mischievous look in your eyes before. The time you hid a whoopie cushion in the Captain’s chair. Most recently was when you had hidden lingerie under your uniform and gave Spock a private show in his office. He had no time to react as you kissed the tips of his fingers before pulling a single digit into your mouth. Eyes still holding his gaze. 

He tried to continue, but just as he did, you pulled a second finger to join the first and he didn’t miss the way you lightly grazed your teeth over the tips of his fingers. He could only imagine how he looked, he knew his cheeks were flushed a dark green right now, he watched as you pulled his fingers from your mouth, a small trail of drool still connected to your lips. He had to remind himself to breathe as he moved you off his lap and stood. Standing over you now, he watched as a glint of worry crossed your features. He held out his hand to you, “It would simply be most illogical to partake in coitus anywhere but the bedroom. The carpet would burn your skin.” 

You accepted his hand and with Spock’s help stood, before he had pulled you into his chest again. He needed to have you close at this moment, he had never even wanted to have sex before he met you, and you were intoxicating. You always had been for him, seeming to take the air out of any room you were in. Even now, Spock was following the human tradition of an engagement before he wed you. You wanted a ceremony with your friends and family. Spock would give you that if you wanted it, he would give you Earth if he could, and he hoped he had spent his entire courting you, making sure you knew that. 

Spock led you into the bedroom, trying to control the needs bubbling inside of him. The desire for you feeling like it was trying to claw its way through his chest. Suddenly, you stopped, stepping in front of him and bending down as you silently pulled down the shorts you were lounging in. Your bare ass now bent over in front of him, you slightly shimmied in front of him, just enough for a teasing jiggle . He noticed the absence of underwear in the forming pile on the floor and that was it. What little reserves Spock had left his body. He was behind you in an instant. Pulling your bare ass against his clothed dick, he didn’t miss the way that you pressed yourself back into him, or the sigh that fell from your lips. 

He fumbled for a second with his belt, before weaving his free hand into your hair and shoving you face first into the mattress. He couldn’t stop the growl that rumbled in his chest if he tried. You weren’t even fighting back. “T’hy’la you look pathetic right now.”

You scoffed, managing to turn your head to the side and trying to glare at him from over your shoulder, “Yeah, you say that, but you should take a look-” 

Spock had moved his hand from your hair, and shoved two fingers in your mouth. He closed his eyes as your lips wrapped around his digits, and he took a moment to see just how far he could push you, slowly pushing his fingers further down your throat before pulling out, and restarting at the tortuous pace, pushing further each time. Until tears pricked at the corner of your eyes and you were solely relying on breathing from your nose. You coughed as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and he softened. Pulling you to him ever so slightly. Guiding you by your chin until you were looking at him. 

Your eyes slightly glazed over and Spock noticed how your skin felt flushed, “I apologize. I should have asked-”

You quickly shook your head, so aggressively you stumbled a little bit, “No,” You were still breathless, “I liked it.” you placed a kiss just under his ear lobe “I trust you.” A second kiss, now on the shell of his ear, “Completely.” 

Your face was in the mattress again as he stepped in between your legs, spreading them slightly until the fit was comfortable for him. He stepped back for a moment, only taking the time to pull himself through the zipper of his pants before coming back to you. His hand once again snaked up the base of your skull, weaving his fingers into your hair, the other one gripping your hip. He took a breath, before slowly starting to push into you. He set his pace slow, wanting to enjoy every second of this moment. He could feel you wiggle slightly under him. Desperate to feel anything more than he was currently giving you.

“Patience my dear. It is a virtue you must learn.” His second thrust was just as slow, he even took a brief pause while he was fully sheathed, slightly bumping his head into the spongy tissue he felt. He reveled in the feeling as you fluttered around him. You wiggled under him and he rolled his eyes, “I expect you to listen to your superior when you’re given an order.”

You froze, he watched the muscles in your thighs tighten as you tried to stiffen as straight as a board, He started again, “Do you understand me Lieutenant?”

You nodded under his hand and he paused again, slowly tightening his fingers in your hair as he lifted your head, “Do I need to repeat myself?”

“No Commander.” The words spilled from your lips and he noticed how swollen they already looked. He was amused by the way he could so easily make you lose all logical sense, just wanting to do anything to make him pleased. He clicked his tongue as he set a quicker pace this time. He pulled you closer to him, the slight whimper from you egging him on even more, his hands moving from your hip to your thigh. Raising your leg until your knee was resting on the bed as well.

The change in angle caused a surprised moan to fall from you and you clenched around him. Spock faltered in his pace for a brief second before he pursued you faster, his thighs now hitting the edge of the bed frame as he felt a familiar tingle starting in the pit of his stomach. The sounds coming from you with every thrust were almost too much for him, between the sound of your skin, and the incoherent babbling he was pulling from your lips it was almost enough to do him in.

He moved his hand from your hair, your head gently falling back into the mattress, as he gently traced the lines of jaw, resting his first two fingers on your temple, and soon, he was basking in the warm golden light that was you. He could feel the love and adoration from you. He could feel something more, just a thought floating around before his own smacked him in the face. A primal urge seemed to fill him as he thought about it.

You, filled to the brim with his seed. You, pregnant, the way your skin would glow, how he would have even more of an excuse to go randomly see you in the middle of the day. You, as a mom, to Spock, it would be no greater than honor than raising a child who had half of what you did.

He couldn’t hold the words, they were falling from his mouth before his brain even registered what he was saying. Jim always said ‘a drunken mind speaks sober thoughts’ and Spock now understood what that meant, in his love drunk state, he had told you one of his deepest desires, from the moment he had met you. His hand fell to your chin, resting his hand under your jaw to keep you supported, “Do you want a baby?”

Your hips stuttered for a split second, and Spock panicked. He felt his heart squeeze in an uncomfortable way, his lungs felt heavy, “Yes Commander.”

“Do you want my baby?” He needed clarification, he needed to know you wanted this.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a deep breath, trying to steady your breathing, “Yes Spock. I want to have your baby.” 

Spock was done for. He found your temple once again as he reached the edge, holding on to anything for just a second longer, before you were there with him. He let himself fall, moving his hand from your thigh to your midsection, pulling your body further against him. He gently worked you down, never stopping, only slowly in his languid motions in and out of you. He stayed in you, until your breathing slowed down and until, all, parts of you relaxed. 

He slowly pulled away, before working on you, helping you move further up on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable with a pillow. He was gone as soon as you were settled, returning moments later with a glass of water and a warm washcloth. “Please, drink my dear.” He wiped you down from head to toe. Starting with your face, he gently wiped the tear streaks, before noticing how dry your lips were. He placed a very human kiss on them, almost as if he were trying to kiss them better.

 There were bruises forming where he held your jaw. He could feel the slight furrow in his brows. Your hand graced his cheek, he looked in your eyes for the first time and he swore he could see the love he felt from you earlier, had you always looked at him like that? “Stop worrying. I liked it, and I like the bruises.” You gently trailed off again, eyes dropping from his gaze. Spock couldn’t believe you were shy about admitting this to him with everything that just happened between the two of you. 

He had now moved on to your chest and arms. Moving in steady even motions across your skin.“I know I can be…forceful. I do not wish to inflict any-” He stopped as you held your hand up.

“Spock, I need you to understand that I wanted everything you did to me done. I promise, I will let you know if you ever take it too far, but maybe we could benefit from having this as a bigger conversation tomorrow.” He has now moved to your hips, taking extra care around the where he once gripped you. “I think it would be great to establish boundaries so there are preset guidelines for any type of sex we have.”

He was now wiping down your thighs and legs, letting the words you spoke process as he inspected your body. He was amazed at how you always seemed to find a way to find a solution that benefited everyone, “I think your idea sounds very logical. It would benefit in the enjoyment for both of us.”

“Yes! Exactly!” You lazily smiled at him as you crawled under the blankets, “Now, I know with as much as you love me, Vulcans need time to process things. But you are Spock, and you did a lot of things tonight ruled by your emotions. I know that takes a toll on you.” You opened your arms, and he willingly fell into them, letting all of his weight on you as he took what seemed like his first steady breath of the night. 

He couldn’t help but press his head further into your touch as you gently ran your fingers through his hair, your nails every so gently grazing his scalp, he felt his skin tingle after you, you continued speaking, you voice quieter now, “You need to go shower, you’re still in your uniform. Take a moment for you, I’ll be here when you come back.”

You were laying on your stomach when Spock entered the room again, his hair still slightly damp, he may have rushed his routine just to be by your side again. He thought you were sleeping, until he heard your voice call out into the darkness, “Computer, play ‘Apocalypse’ by Cigarettes After Sex, year 2017.”

Spock recognized the tune immediately, the same song all of this had started with, as he crawled into the bed beside you, within a breath you had pressed yourself into his side, your head finding solace in the crook of your neck. He could feel his skin prick as your breath fanned across his skin. Your hand quickly found his as you laced your fingers together.

“I was being serious earlier. About wanting to have your baby.” Your voice is just barely a whisper as you speak in the darkness of the room.

“As was I. I feel it would be my greatest honor to raise a family with you,” he gently rolled, so he was able to look at you, his free hand gently cupping your face, “I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“I cannot wait to marry you.” You closed your eyes as you spoke those words and Spock knew he would spend the rest of his life making sure you spent every moment knowing how much he truly loved you. 

He didn’t even care when he instinctively pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well T’hy’la. I will be here when you wake.” Spock knew his life was now changing, forever. There was no going back, yet also not an ounce of doubt arose from his decision. As your breathing slowed, subconsciously falling into rhythm with his. He slowly closed his eyes, letting everything else but the current need for sleep fall to the wayside. Sinking lower into the feeling, Spock realized, if you liked the bruises, the next time you put on a show for him like that, he wouldn’t wait to make it to the bedroom.

[heartshapedcigaretteburns]

(RAHRWAHRAHAHAHWAHRAWR 😩‼️)

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who hates leaving you even before you start dating. He worries about you 24/7 while he's on a mission even if he knows you can take care of yourself.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who can't help but feel like you're already family. You're at his parents house every holiday get together and you're friends with all his cousins and siblings. You're his plus one to every wedding. It'd be so easy for you to take his last name.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who convinces you to move in with him. He says it's cost efficient but really it's because he can't stand being away from you more than he has to. He loves coming home to you just lounging or cooking bc it makes him feel like you're his little wife waiting for him to come home ☹️ he just wants someone to hold him when it's over. It also doesn't hurt that he gets to see you prance around with wet hair in just a t shirt (no bra 😏) and panties bc you hate the feelings of pants on your freshly moisturized legs.

This doesn't help the problem Childhood Bsf Soap! has of talking about you to his team like you've been married to him for years. Calls you his lass, the missus, his lady. "Can't make it to the bar tonight, the missus has been looking forward to this new movie so I'm gonna take my lass to see it." The first time he complained about your new partner his teammates were stunned bc this whole time they thought you were his gf/wife. Soap likes the idea of people assuming you 2 are a couple.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who has never liked any of your past partners and always made it very well known bc this boy can't hide his emotions. If he has to be around the person you're talking to romantically he's constantly like this 😡 in the corner literally POUTING. He'll even go as far as trying to convince you to break up with them for something. "They didn't even know your favorite childhood cartoon! They obviously don't care about getting to know you on a deeper level maybe you should end it now 😁"

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who already knows your relationship preferences and love languages. When he finally decides he's had enough of the just friends thing he takes full advantage of the years he's spent listening to you rant about love and ramble about your dream partner. All of the sudden he's hitting you with all the aspects you want in a partner and it's not an opportunity any sane person could pass up.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who traps you in the bedroom the night before a mission. He got the call just after lunch and you haven't left the bed since. Hours later, his head is on your chest and you're lazily stroking his mohawk and watching some cooking show on the tv. He stays buried in you all night even after he goes soft just to be as close to you as possible before he has to leave. He's praying he's allowed to come back to you again this time.

Umh 2nd ever time doing something like this 😬not as proud of this one bc I don't read much about Soap personally but I figured I started with Gaz so I might as well do another underated one. Soap needs some love too fr 💕 I really don't know what I'm doing y'all 😔😭

[lymtw]

NSFW

Gojo x f!reader

Description:

FWB Gojo series

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Continuing on with the whole Gojo being the most jealous fwb partner…

He’s so hellbent on proving that he fucks you better than that one dude you’ve been seeing recently. He’ll do anything to hear you admit it, because one, his ego will sky rocket, and two, it’ll ensure him that he has nothing to worry about with this guy.

“Tell me he does it better, ma. Tell me he makes your legs tremble like this.” He hasn’t even made contact with your bare cunt. Your underwear is still on, and he’s been focusing on trying to get you to soak through the garment. You’re pinned to the wall, and he’s on his knees with his head beneath your skirt. “You like when I kiss you down here?” He asks, his head leaving beneath the veil of your skirt.

You look at him and shudder, your nails digging into your palms. Sometimes you wonder if Gojo is in love with you, with the way he acts and all. He looks at you in such a love stricken way, but it’s kind of hard to reciprocate it when he put the bounderies up in the first place.

“I do. Please, keep going.”

Whenever you bring up your current love interest he’s not as interested in what you have to say. You’ll start out telling him you have a date, and that you’re not able to come to his place, and suddenly you’re cut out of his thought process. Really, he’s just scared that you’ll call the whole thing off when you take things further with this other man.

His lips go to your inner thigh, kissing, sucking, anything to make the process of getting your legs to give out because of him, quicker.

“You wore my favorite pair of underwear. Bad call.”

You sigh, looking down at him briefly. “You have a favorite pair of underwear of mine?”

He laughs in the middle of kissing your knee. “Of course I do, and the only reason this pair is still an option for you is because I… have… self… control,” he says between kisses that rise up to your panties again.

“C-Clearly,” you stutter, feeling his warm tongue against your clothed folds.

“You’d be proud, you know. Might even call me a good boy.” He teases.

“Tell me about it,” you moan, your hand going to his neck.

His tongue laps at the wet patch on your underwear, and he notices the strings of arousal that connect for a split second on his tongue before snapping. You’re putty beneath his touch.

“It’s my favorite pair for a reason. I’ve seen you wear this pair more than a couple times.” He creates access to your drooling cunt, moving the fabric aside. “You’re not very aware of the flow of your dresses and skirts, baby. You should really be more careful.”

“Ah!” You gasp, his tongue running through your bare folds shocking you.

“They won’t be around anymore because you chose to wear them on a day when all I want to do is ruin you.”

[starryjkoo]

I've seen some people bringing up hickeygate for some reason so in the spirit of AYS?! release week, I’d like to talk about why I love hickeygate.

To begin with, I feel like a lot of people don’t understand that what makes hickeygate so funny isn’t even necessarily the hickey. Or rather, there’s too much focus on only the hickey when the whole thing is just hilarious and weird.

Like, apparently Jikook get drunk (alone) together and JK lifts Jimin bridal style, spins him around, and refuses to set him down even when Jimin gets super dizzy. And apparently Jimin’s drunken method of getting JK to set him down is to “bite” him on the neck in such a way that leaves a mark that looks exactly like a hickey. That’s weird! Every part of that is weird!

And what’s also kind of funny to me is that I think they told the story because imo in their eyes it really was all very innocent “see, we weren’t doing anything weird or wrong!” almost, defensive, if you will. Because technically, they weren’t doing anything inappropriate, they were just defending themselves/explaining the totally non-weird mark Jimin left on JKs neck. It wasn’t really a “hickey”, they have nothing to hide, they were just playing around, nothing untoward happened.

But I think it’s funny because imho it at the very least implies that Jikook have some weird-ass boundaries/behaviors, that they might be so deep into their strange dynamic, so used to and desensitized to it, that they don’t even recognize when they’re being weird af. Because, regardless, this situation is still ????

Most people don’t drunkenly spin their friends around bridal style and refuse to set them down and have hickeys bit (sucked??) onto their neck in response. I mean, maybe some do, but I definitely don’t think it’s the norm (and Jin’s & TH’s responses are hilarious). And certainly most people would realize that leaving what looks like a hickey on your friends neck is going to be perceived a certain way regardless of what story you tell or how it came about, and would maybe cover it up to save themselves the embarrassment if they were bothered by the implications. But clearly that’s not what happened. They were out and proud of that thing lol (well Jimin seemed a bit sheepish about what happened lol).

Anyways the whole thing is funny and very weird and says something about their dynamic and weird physical boundaries and what they might be like when they’re drunk and alone together (which seems like something they do/did a lot). We also now know they also have in depth discussions about singing to the point they get lost in their own little world even when they're with others which is cute too.

Anyways, I know I’m not crazy to point out that their dynamic is weird and their intimacy boundaries are weird and their dynamic can read a certain way because I’ll always point to one of my other very favorite Jikook moments — Rainy Day fight — particularly the way that the other members responded. Like, continuously cringing for no reason, shivering and yelling “ew”, calling it a drama, singing a kdrama song at them, smiling and laughing, which is all honestly hilarious, and unnecessary, and validating lol. Especially because it didn’t really deter Jikook, who were just telling that story as it was, with JK seemingly pretty serious and invested in making sure Jimin got the details right.

So yeah, that is just how they come off, even to their own group that already have loose boundaries - and I just love that about Jikook. Love their weird drunken shenanigans and their dramatic as hell couple like rain fights, and how soft and silly they are in general.

Also shout-out to the retelling of the Rainy Day story where they both separately took the blame because they're mature, considerate and sweet towards each other like that. Also the fact that it was something JK felt sorry for years down the line, even though clearly there were no hard feelings about it. I feel like they probably didn’t fight that often if a fight in which they immediately made up was on his mind like that lol. Also the fact that what upset JK so deeply was Jimin’s threat of not caring about him anymore.

Anyways, I hope we get to see some drunken shenanigans in AYS. They did cut out whatever tussle occurred on that mosquito net during ITS though, so idk what they’ll actually show in the end, but I’m here for it.

[another-goblin]

Spoilers for 2.3

Some thoughts, speculations, and headcanons about our little dialogue with Ratio (+more)

1. This tells me that Ratio and Aventurine are friends (or as close to being friends as both of them are currently capable of, which isn't much, but still). Yes, what Aventurine thinks about TB could have been them discussing their mission. But I choose to think that they just chat with each other sometimes, because they actually enjoy it. Aventurine feels comfortable enough to just share what he thinks about the people he meets, and he knows that Ratio is interested in his opinions, and he's right. He listens and takes note. btw people being actual friends is my favorite trope for romantic couples.

2. Ratio seeing his relationships with Aventurine, and our TB, and people in general as a teacher and a student and being constantly in his teacher mode made me think. Probably all significant relationships in his life were those of a teacher and a student. He cannot see himself in any other role because he has never experienced it himself. I wouldn't be surprised if even his parents provided him with knowledge and education instead of parental love. This may also be why he's so frustrated with people who don't fit these two roles: normal people not interested in bettering themselves through education, students who don't take studying seriously, most scholars, and especially the Geniuses, for not actively sharing their knowledge or doing anything to uplift humanity.

3. Ratio seeing their relationship with Aventurine in particular this way is appropriately weird and a bit unhealthy, in my opinion (but what did we expect from him), considering that they are undeniably close. But that's probably the only way he knows to show his care for somebody:  to teach them stuff and help them better themselves.

4. On Avenrutine's side, he seems amused by it, in a good way (the way he playfully refers to Ratio in the descriptions of some of the 2.1 quests, "Your professor friend," and so on). He even seems to be a bit proud that an actual professor has taken an interest in him.

5. But what can he teach Aventurine? He might share his actual knowledge. I think the "Death" and "Dormancy" part of his note is him doing that. But he mostly sees his duty as a teacher in showing people that they can achieve a lot by themselves if they stop relying on higher beings who don't care about them and start relying on themselves (with little help from Ratio.)

But "relying on himself and achieving things" is what Aventurine has been successfully doing most of his life. So is it the "little help from Ratio" that matters here? Or is he helping Aventurine stop relying on his supposedly supernatural luck and realize how capable he actually is?

6. This. (btw 'philosophical zombie' means "a being in a thought experiment in philosophy of mind that is physically identical to a normal human being but does not have conscious experience" (from wiki), so basically just some weird concept in philosophy.) But what an admirably in-depth knowledge of his 'not partner' he's showing here. Are you equally interested in the inner worlds of all your students, doc?…

7. Anyways, that reminded me of what Jade said about the Stonehearts, even using the same word 'void'. So. Aventurine has a void in his heart, caused by his inability to protect people he cares about. It's very significant that Diamond gave him the power of Preservation specifically to help him fill that void, to be finally able to protect somebody he cares about. The problem is, he doesn't have anyone to protect anymore (he doesn't even see himself as worthy of protection). Until recently. So, and I'm being extremely self-indulgent here, if Ratio got in danger, Aventurine protecting and saving him would fill the void in his heart. And btw what can boost one's self-worth more than protecting somebody who's important to you? I mean, he should snap out of that 'I'm only worth the money my slaveowner paid for me' mentality sooner or later, I hope.

(the problem is, I'm not sure how it can play out now that he doesn't have his stone anymore. And he lost it, not protecting anybody but nearly killing himself and furthering the IPC's agenda. Although doing something like that without the stone would be even more significant)

Also, I hope Ratio won't realize that, and won't deliberately put himself in danger for Aventurine to save him. You know, for educational purposes.

8. He just runs around helping people, making sure everybody's okay, and, emm, 'enhance their living', that's his thing.  And even broadly speaking, with his scientific discoveries, and him saving people on Herta station. And considering that 'everybody's my student' thing, I feel like he sees himself as responsible for everybody (in his own way).

And some people still think that he's selfish and egoistic. He even gets angry when we ask for an autograph:

9. Aaand that's the third time he disappeared in the middle of a conversation involving Aventurine. I understand him, though. As somebody who also 'detests noisy gatherings', group chats aren't much better.

------

ok this was supposed to be hidden in tags but i think tumblr found it too scandalous or something i don't know, i'll just leave it here: the more I write about Ratio, the stronger the urge to just call him Rat, you know, lovingly also whoops sorry, I'm physically incapable of writing short posts, it was supposed to be a short comment about their friendship, how much content can I squeeze out of a half-minute long dialogue?, the answer is yes, but I just had to get it out of my system

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Killer | Vox x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, dead bodies, established relationship (married), HUMAN VOX, NSFW (18+), p in v, slight breeding kink but otherwise vanilla for my first 'smutty' Vox writing, reader is heavily implied to be female, Valentino existing

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Your husband came home from work to find a rather interesting sight in his living room. . . Made him wanna do a thing or two. . . Idk 💀✨

A/N — I couldn't not use this gif — I love it. I don't mention him by name until the end because we don't know what his name was while he was alive. . . It could've been Vox in both, but I'm not taking chances, so I used sweet little names instead. . . He also has dark hair and blue eyes in my mind. HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS ONE 💕 (I drew/made the MDNI banner myself — tell me you're proud of me. . . I'm gonna pretend I didn't write this when I wake up tomorrow 😭, but hopefully someone does like it)

Blood dripped from the hand of the body that was carelessly draped across the coffee table, the metallic smelling crimson staining the white rug below.

You stood firmly, hands on your hips as you stared at your husband, who, in turn, stared at the body as if it would suddenly disappear if he looked away.

"You killed her." He stated rather plainly, a glint in his eyes as he turned to look at you in all of your glory — bloodied hands, stained apron tied around your waist, hair tousled, and ripped pantyhose. . . It was odd for him to see you so unkempt. Had he not been your childhood friend turned lover and husband, you might have had something snarky to say in response to his obvious comment.

You hummed, assessing the expanding puddle on the new rug that nearly costed a fortune. "Yes, it seems I have."

"Did she deserve it?"

"They always do." You replied nonchalantly, removing your hands from your hips as you walked towards your husband — silently thanking whatever higher power that the blood on your hands had dried. You pulled him down by his tie and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Welcome home, my love. . . Dinner will be done shortly. It's your favorite."

"I'll handle the mess while you finish up." Came his response.

You smiled as a thank you before going off into the kitchen to wash up the last couple dishes and stir the pot of stew that had been cooking low and slow all afternoon.

Your beloved husband entered the kitchen a bit later, hands coated in dirt and blood with the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He stood there for a moment watching you as if you were an animal of prey and he was an apex predator. Your breath hitched when that glint of something familiar returned to his electric blue gaze.

Within a moment, his hands drenched in sticky blood found your face, gently caressing it and leaving trails of the viscoelastic fluid behind as he brought you into a rough yet passionate kiss.

His hands trailed down your clothed body until they reached your thighs. . . With his fingers grasping the plush flesh, he hoisted you onto the counter top.

"Are you certain you want to do this before dinner, Honey?" You asked breathlessly just as his hands fell to his belt buckle, hastily undoing it with the metallic clicks of the silver colored mechanism, the leather falling from the silvery confines.

"No time like the present, Doll." He replied, practically ripping the button from the hole of his perfectly tailored suit pants.

"Carry on, Darling." You hummed.

He bunched up the skirt of your dress before reaching just below and ripping a large hole in the already destroyed pantyhose, all to gain access to the already soaked cotton fabric beneath.

The singular piece of fabric that separated your pussy from the warmed air of the kitchen.

"All mine. . ." He muttered in awe, rubbing the pad of his thumb up and down the large spot of arousal that had formed since he arrived home. You couldn't help it. Your husband was a fine specimen.

You whined at the need for something more; your darling husband only smirked before completely ripping the beloved pair of panties away, tossing them to the floor — he always said he'd get you more, and he always did. His thumb returned, slipping through your glistening folds before gravitating towards the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Need you, Honey, please. . ." Your sweet voice cut through the silence with a whimper at the end — that was all it took for your husband's restraint to fly out the window.

He freed his bulging cock from the confines of his pants and boxers, immediately lining it up with the entrance. With your silent nod of approval, he slowly slid it into your sopping wet pussy.

He grunted as he bottomed out, paired almost perfectly with your moan as you adjusted to his sheer length and girth — it didn't matter how many times the two of you fucked, it was always like the first time.

After a moment he began thrusting and your sweet noises filled the room along with the sound of skin on skin. One of his hands held on to your waist so you wouldn't slip, and the other held on tightly to the counter.

"Taking me so well just like you always do, Doll." He grunted in your ear, his pace picking up as you moaned his name like a prayer on the lips of an angel, your fingers laced in his soft, dark hair.

It wasn't very long before the coil within began to build with pressure until it finally snapped, bringing you to a much needed orgasm that caused you to release your hold on his hair and clench around him, unintentionally milking your husband's cock. He came, painting your insides white, yet his thrusts didn't cease until he felt the very last drop enter you.

He then pulled out slowly, using his thumb to push his seed back inside of you as it tried to escape. "Gonna be a good mother one day, Doll."

"I'll try to be," you replied breathlessly before plastering a smile on your face, as if you didn't get railed in the kitchen by your husband, where your neighbor could've seen. "Dinner?"

"That sounds good, Doll. . . Let's get you cleaned up."

Sixty or so years later. . .

"Remember that time we fucked in the kitchen with a dead body two rooms over because the ground was frozen, so we couldn't dispose of it properly?" You questioned casually at dinner.

Vox looked up from his plate, a smirk falling onto his face. "Which time?"

"Well, this just got interesting." Valentino muttered into his drink, looking between you and Vox.

"When I killed Dorothy, of course."

"Can you not talk about your serial killer sex shit at the table!? I'd like to eat without the imagery." Velvette groaned, sliding her plate back slightly.

"Would you rather listen to Val talk about all the positions he's had his new favorite toy in?" Vox questioned.

"Hey!" Valentino whined.

[godbirdart]

Hey there. Ive been admiring your work a long time and I was hoping I could get some advice from a more experienced artist.

How do you go about deciding which commission submissions will proceed forward? If you decide to decline a request how do you go about it? I recently started accepting commissions and get nervous when certain requests are too vague, too difficult or the requester isn't fully answering my questions and I dont know how to go about justifying a decline. Is it okay to decline a commission submission?

aAA thank you for enjoying my work!!

i could talk for Days about commissions and how I handle my own work, but I'm going to try to keep this short and simple for ease of reading:

i use a Google Form in combination with a number generator for my commission openings

reasons why i use a Google Form and number generator: - to avoid favoritism / client bias - to push my comfort zone with a variety of projects - to ensure i'm not taking on more work that i can handle

The Google form will automatically assign a number to each form, making it easy for me to pull up a website and ask it to generate a number between [insert number] and [insert number]. That said, I will still manually go through each form. Occasionally I'll pick up a project if I notice someone's reapplied a couple times who wasn't selected during previous openings, or if a project especially appeals to me, or isn't something i'd usually draw!

declining a commission / project:

yes, it is always okay to decline a project! you are not obligated to accept every submission that comes into your inbox / form / etc. there are many valid reasons to decline a project, from a conflict with your Terms of Service, to making sure you don't take on more work than you can reasonably handle.

if the project doesn't inspire you or spark that creative passion, it may result in frustration, exhaustion, and you might wind up handing the client a subpar art piece that you're not at all proud of. it's much more honorable to be upfront about it than to subject yourself to such grief as you waste your time and energy and your client's time and money.

ways to decline: it's always important to be polite. depending on your reasoning, you could say "Thank you for considering me for this project, but, ...." - "... This is not a project I'd be comfortable taking on." "... This project conflicts with my Terms of Service and I cannot accept it." "... I cannot accept it at this time." "... but I would not be able to fulfill your request to the detail / complexity you are expecting for this piece."

there's no shame in saying "i would not be a good fit for this project". i've had clients ask me for hyper-realistic work, which is quite far from my art style. while i could do it, i'd rather not put both myself and the client through months of frustration and waiting for a project i am not completely confident in executing.

if a client is being too vague, not answering questions:

it happens! not every client will communicate thoroughly. some clients will over-communicate, and for others there may be a language barrier so their difficultness may be entirely unintended.

you can't do the job if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing. never be afraid to ask your client for clarification on their request. phases you can use would be: - "I do not have enough information to begin work on this, could you clarify these details: [insert questions about details you need elaboration about]" - "I cannot proceed without knowing more about [insert thing], can you tell me more about [thing you need clarification on]". if your client being deliberately obtuse and refusing to supply the necessary information, you can be more firm with them such as: - "I will not proceed any further with this project if I do not receive [insert details]."

on clients being too difficult:

"difficult" is a bit subjective here. what may be considered difficult for one artist may be a walk in the park for another. this said, i'm going to use some very generic common examples here.

too many irrelevant notes, or randomly forwarding details / requests instead of condensing their ideas into one message:

"Thank you for these additional notes, however: ..." - "... please only supply notes that are directly related to the project at hand." [such as notes on the expression, environment, pose, etc - things that you need to know for the artwork you are working on] - "... please condense them into one message instead of sending multiple messages. I want to stay organized / do not want to lose track of your notes."

frequent requests for updates, or changes to the WIP / final art:

note: you should always be communicative and receptive to a client's request for updates, but here i am referring specifically to excessive requests such as numerous requests sent multiple times a day. additionally, what is considered "excessive" will vary depending on an artist's average turnaround time. "Thank you for reaching out, ..." - "... but I do not yet have an update for you at this time. I will reach out when I have an update ready for you, thank you for your patience." - "... but these requests are too frequent. Please allow more time to pass between requests for updates." You could also ask your client if they have concerns about the turnaround time, if they need the work by a specific date for a birthday / event, etc. It is important to consider that some clients may have been scammed by an artist in the past and their insistence on updates could be a result from that. if a client keeps requesting edits on the concept / sketch or final piece, you're within your right to say enough is enough. this will also vary depending on the artist's individual work process. if the changes are getting excessive, you could say: - "As we've undergone numerous edits to this, I will permit one final request for editing after which I will -" [move on to the next stage, cease work on this project, issue a partial refund, start asking fees for edits, etc; insert next step of your preference]

ignoring work hours / terms of service / communication channels

as an artist, you should set a firm boundary of what is a working day and what is not. you are not in a profession that is "on-call" 24/7. you can save some headache by having your schedule posted on your website / social media or wherever your queue is publicly posted. anywhere that is readily accessible for a client to easy find. - something you could say is: "My work days are [insert days], I answer work-related messages, work on art, and send out updates [if applicable] on those days. Thank you for your patience." if you prefer to have your work messages confined to one social media account or email, it's okay to enforce that! but be sure to have it posted in easily noticeable spots like pinned posts. - something to say here would be: "If you need to reach me, please do so via [insert platform / email etc]. I will not respond to [comments / DMs on other social media, etc]." terms of service, same as above, should be in an easy-to-find location and should be easy to read. if a client's prompt or action conflicts with your ToS, you could address it with: "As mentioned in my Terms of Service, [address thing that conflicts with your T&C."

language barriers

sometimes you may have a client with a language barrier. we live in a vast world, after all! be patient with them, and depending on their fluency, do your best to simplify your questions for them. if you know your client is using an online translator, try and avoid using jargon. we've come a long way with online translators, but they're not going to spit out the right translation if you ask "are they supposed to be super shredded and beefy" and the translator tells your client "should they be shredded meat".

dropping a client

this is an absolute most extreme last resort, but i bring this up since we're on the topic of difficult clients and this particular stage isn't spoken about often. no artist wants to up and drop a client, but sometimes it's better for all parties involved instead of dragging out a bad experience. dropping a client could result from a variety of factors, including: the artist is retiring from art, something has come up in the artist's life and they are unable to continue, a client has become abusive, or an agreement cannot be made on a project or the project has caused a conflict of interest between the artist and the client. if you must drop a client, you could say: - "I apologize, but for [insert reason] I cannot continue with this project. I will be [refunding / partially refunding] this project." If it's for medical reasons, you can say "due to a medical complication, I am unable to continue" - and leave it at that. Your client does not need elaboration on your private medical information. The same goes for private family matter or other personal issue. artists shouldn't let guilt eat at them if they are physically incapable of completing a project due to personal reasons. things happen, life happens. the vast majority of your clients will be understanding and appreciate that you reached out to them to address the situation instead of leaving them in limbo. If you have to drop a client because they're being genuinely abusive and hostile and not respecting you, your time, or your work, you can say the same thing as above. There's zero need to retaliate or be hostile back. The situation will likely make you feel awful, sure, but firmly staying professional is the best thing you can do. When issuing a refund, always specify when the client should expect their refund to arrive. "A refund has been issued and will be processed through [insert payment method] shortly." or "A refund will be issued on [insert date]."

This wound up long anyway despite my effort to shorten it, but ah well.

If you'd like more elaboration on something, don't hesitate to ask! Some sections did get pruned down in my futile effort to keep it short, so things might've ended up a bit vague or convoluted [my apologies].

[totaly-obsessed]

The Great British Bake Off

Leah Williamson x reader blurb

-> Reader and Leah have too many cakes to handle and feed the Arsenal girls

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Uhmmm, do you have a new hobby?”

Lia was quite confused when Leah entered the Arsenal cafeteria where most of the team was currently having breakfast.

You see, Lia’s question was warranted. It is not every day that you see the Leah Williamson carry more cakeboxes than you would think she could. “Nah. Not me.” And with that, the Swiss knew the answer – you, her teammate's girlfriend must have gotten bored while injured.

Turns out that playing football is quite hard with a broken leg – watching the great British bake off, however? Works wonderfully.  And while you probably will not make a realistic burger cake any time soon, you were quite good at the easier cakes.

However, there was only so much cake a two-person household could eat, so the next best solution was to visit Leah’s family. And while Amanda was very thankful for the cakes and the nice afternoon you had all spent together, she did not need five more of them. She had however taken a batch of cupcakes that she would distribute at work – guaranteeing you, that everyone would love them.

After a little consideration, it was decided that you would join Leah at training that Monday, which is why she was carrying the cakes.

“Where is she then?” You could hear Katie’s booming voice as you limped down the unnecessary long hallway to the cafeteria. “Oh she’s here, don’t ya worry your pretty little head, McCabe!”

It was Beth who was the first at your side, helping you to the chair next to Leah and taking care of your crutches for you.

Alessia came stumbling towards you, a big dopey grin on her face “My favorite Williamson!” and with that, she tumbled over, taking an empty chair with her.

“Careful Less, otherwise you might be the next one with crutches.” A deep blush overtook her cheeks, “Yes, Mom.” While you certainly were not Alessia’s mother, you had taken on the role of an older sister when she had played in Chelsea’s youth academy where you had coached a couple of years ago before switching to Arsenal’s academy after meeting Leah.

While you liked playing, coaching gave you a little more of a kick – shaping young players and helping them discover themselves. But that clearly did not work with a broken leg.

“So… Cake anybody?” There was no hesitation, all the girls just digging straight in – no forks or anything.

Collin the Caterpillar style.

“Leah, no cake for you?” Kyra’s mouth was barely empty as she nudged the older player. “Nah, think I’ve eaten my weight in cake this week.”

“No problem with that.” Jonas joined the girls and sat down right next to Stina and Lina, his fellow Swedes.

“Ooh! That reminds me – Leah had me that box!” Your girlfriend did as you had requested, handing you the box while bowing forwards “Yes – my queen.”

You ignored her jab in favor of opening the box with as much drama as you could “Tada! Prinsesstårta!”

Boom.

Four excited Swedes practically thew themselves on the cake – Jonas leading the pack, followed by Stina, Amanda, and Lina. “What even is that?”

“Just the best thing in the entire world.” Stina tried to swat away Katie’s hands as she prodded at her piece of tårta.

“It’s a sponge cake base topped with vanilla pastry cream and fluffy whipped cream – Sweden’s national cake.”

Leah, the proud Brit that she was immediately set back the piece she had taken out “Sweden? Why not the UK, baby? You are British baby.” 

“No, I’m not Leah – I’m German.”

[undercovercameron]

a domesticated rafe cameron

summary: a bf headcanon for sir rafe m.f. cameron

notes: *NSFW NEAR THE END* i have been seeing so many headcanons for rafe as a bf recently and i used to do these all the time for other fandoms and people and holy fuck i miss and love them.. allow me to indulge myself. also a lot of these are not simply him being touchy or super cute positive ones bc he’s canonically a murderer and drug addict and felon sooo akdjdjd we all of course romanticize him but i just thought i’d say that. lemme know what you think !

tags: rafe cameron x reader

i think rafe is a very complicated kind of lover

he’s a complex ass dude as it is, so that obviously reflects in your relationships

your relationship probably started unconventionally, either because of a fuck up or drunken mistake or maybe even meeting him randomly on a golf course or on the beach and just immediately being drawn to each other

he wants someone that challenges him a Little bit but really just wants someone to go with the flow and let him take the lead

he already gets enough direction and bossy shit from his family

(probably a couple arguments have sparked because of that; he sees too much of rose or ward in you. it’s also something that draws him to you, though, so take it with a grain of salt)

on the topic of arguments, you two are no stranger to them

he always ends up apologizing though, even if you started it—he’d just much rather have your mouth on his than have it yelling at him and knows there’s always a way to get you back on his side

he’s a proud man, so his apologies are usually in the form of him complimenting you or giving entirely hypothetical situations in which he Possibly Might Be Sorry

you take it because it’s probably the best you’re gonna get

he shows his love and affection in a little different ways that other people you’ve dated

of course he’s no stranger to PDA

in fact it only puffs his chest that you want to be seen with him and touch him

he’ll never admit it, but he loves when you kiss his face

like duh,

but not just his lips, he really likes when you kiss him on the temple or just press your face to his cheek or peck at his jaw

he also likes when you hold onto his belt when getting his attention or trying to move him

a lot of your dates involve watching a movie or TV show, because truth be told he is a home body

maybe not his home, but def a home body

your house is a reminder that he is apart of your life; he sees the pictures, the movie tickets, his favorite chips (salt and vinegar, ew i know), or spares of toothbrushes and his clothes in your closet

in any social situation he is either looking at you, thinking of looking at you, touching you, or asking people where you are

he cannot stand to make small talk without his emotional support girlfriend at his side

you’re just so much funnier than all these other people

he prides himself on his ability to make you blush, and does it any chance he gets

he doesn’t really get to laugh a lot, as he is either in distress or about to get punched or reprimanded, so you’re always whispering some joke into his ear to get him to laugh. your success rate is much better than anyone else’s in his life

he knew he loved you when you grabbed his hand during a dinner you were at and some politician walked in with a very apparent and badly concealed nose job. you just mouth “oh my god” and he had to snort to cover up his laugh

you were also all dolled up and cute and sexy that night so that may have had something to do with him knowing he loved you

he is also a great communicator

it’s not in his nature to hide his feelings because they’re so fucking obvious on that expressive face of his

and he never knew he could have so much fun texting until you came along

now he’s a regular emoticon user

weird, right?

now onto spicy things,

you’ve never known a partner to ask you how you feel more than Rafe

it’s a praise thing, you think

he wants to hear that he feels good, that right there, that he fucks you so good, that he’s perfect for you

the nonverbal sign that all those are true is when you throw your head back and a gasp is caught in your throat

the very idea that your breath is stolen every time he does something good makes his heart skip a beat

his cheeks get very red while you’re having sex, so your cool fingers are usually petting them or pressed near them

you have a thing for his legs

i mean come on

he just walks around like that all day

he walks around with a dick like that in his pants all day, and you’re supposed to just ignore it?!

absolutely not

you especially like when he wears those hoochie daddy 5 inch inseam swim trunks, because you get to see where his skin gets a little paler and softer and it makes you get goosebumps at the thought of where it leads

those trunks are a treat usually, saved for a special occasion where he doesn’t have to be around his family and he can have you in his lap, hand trapped between your legs

let’s just say you two fuck like rabbits

two beautiful young adults, what else occupies your time?

it gets a little annoying for other people when you’re apart of their dinner party, because you’re always late, but then learn to just deal with it

it’s better to not have a sexually frustrated rafe cameron that accidentally stabs through his plate of rice and vegetables like that one time at the island club with your parents when you licked up a drop of lemon sauce from your chin and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head

decidedly not a great time or place to act like that

anyways,

i just think while yours’ and rafe’s relationship def has its ups and downs like all other relationships, your recovery period after an argument is remarkably high

you both know you’re not mad anymore, so it’s not worth it to be bad communicators and make it worse

at the end of the day, there’s always space for you in his bed, and he always welcomes you with a slap on the ass and a whisper of “we’re totally fucking in the shower tomorrow”

(and yes. you do)

notes: i hope this doesn’t seem to scatterbrained, i may or may not end up adjusting or editing this later to be closer to what i think would be him

[whatdaikesneed]

One of the bartenders at the not-quite-a-gay bar I frequent is an out-and-proud lesbian working her way through a psychology PhD. She's 23, early in the program, straight out of undergrad. She's been working at this bar since she turned 21, so I've known her for a few years. She's also, like, fucked up. I love talking with her about school, because she gets visibly horny talking about studying abnormal psych and abuse.

This semester she's in a seminar on familial abuse, and a few weeks ago she's telling me all about this family where the parents are grooming the kids from when they're preteens, and she's talking to me about trying to look the right amount of disgusted in class, meanwhile fantasies are swimming around in her head about getting abused like that. I asked her if she would masturbate to a client's trauma story if their parents had sexually abused them. She said, "Probably not in front of her."

I know she's not planning on going into clinical therapy, but I kind of want her to. Bet she'd come back and tell me great stories about the confidential shit that's happened to her patients.

Anyway she says she's so glad to be able to talk to me, because she's got no one to talk to about any of this stuff, but it's hard at the bar because she can't be as graphic as she wants to while she's working. So I offer to make plans to hang out at my place, where she can come get it all off her chest.

Two days later she shows up at my place with a laptop, so excited. We sit down on the couch and she opens up the laptop and goes to fansly. She's subscribed to like twelve accounts, that don't look like they have anything to do with her.

She pulls one of them up, scrolls down a bit, and finds a particular video, which she plays. The girl in the video is doing an RP video with a dildo sticking in from off camera, talking to her "Daddy" and sucking and fucking it. And the bartender girl says, "Her dad really fucked her like this. Almost beat for beat." I noticed that the performance felt a lot less contrived than these things usually do, like there's a whole backstory but she's not worried about filing you in on it.

After a few minutes of that one, she goes over to a femboy with a huge cock, and pulls up a video of him riding a dildo until he makes himself cum hands free. No mention of family here, but while he fucks himself she explains, "he didn't get molested, but his sisters both did. He said he wonders sometimes if that's what made him want to be so feminine, because that was how you got Dad to want to play with you. Later, he raped one of his sisters. She still won't speak to him, but he said it was worth it, because it was the best sex of his life. He thinks she might eventually admit how good it was and come back for another round. He also thinks about raping the other one, to see if it's just as good. He doesn't think she knows about her sister."

Bartender girl fully had her hand down her yoga pants and was rubbing her clit, watching this oiled up twink cum, and, I imagine, wishing she were his sister.

"How do you know this stuff?"

"My advisor works on sex workers and trauma. She interviewed all these people."

"And she told you about it?"

"Fuck no," she said, queueing up another video. "I broke into her filing cabinet and took photos. Look, see this girl? That guy fucking her is her real brother."

That video was a good half hour long, and she was settling in to masturbate right through it, so I said, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"please do," she said, and I took my cock out and started stroking. She reached up her shirt and started playing with her nipple, then noticed me looking and pushed her shirt up to show off her tits. A couple minutes after that she pulled her yoga pants and underwear down her thighs, and went back to masturbating.

She said "this is my favorite part," and rubbed herself so hard as the boy—the girl's brother—pressed deep into her and came.

The girl said "did you just cum inside me?" And he goes "yeah." She says "you can't do that, idiot! I'm not on the pill!"

But this is only like halfway through the video, and this guy straight up cuddles up to his sister, says it's gonna be okay, strokes her hair, then opens her legs and starts fucking her again.

Without turning to her, I ask bartender girl, "What was your dad like?"

And she said, "What? Fuck!" And doubled over herself, rubbing so much harder.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine! Ask me again!"

"What was your father like?"

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—"

I put a hand on her back, and said, "What kind of man was your father?"

She had a shaking, screaming, whole-body orgasm.

When she began to regain her composure, she said, "Thank you. That was so good."

"Anything you need help with, I'm your daddy."

She nuzzled up to me, and said, "do you mean it?"

I said, "Of course, sweetheart. I'd do anything for my favorite daughter."

Tremors shot up and down her body as she took that in, and she said, "Thanks, Dad."

(to be continued)

[sundew199]

Chateau Belle

a/n: anon request! I made one slight change but only because I thought the tension would be better for it, hope that's okay to whoever requested this!! I also got carried away with this, my b

tags: reiner x f!reader, bartender!reiner, waitress!reader, oral f!receiving, cum eating, smut, teasing, porn with some plot

Chateau Belle

The most expensive restaurant in the city and the ideal place to work, for you at least. That was your mindset going into the interview, dressed almost to the nines for the waitress position that was posted a couple of days ago. The manager, blanking on his name, was kind and straight to the point. No small talk or pleasantries, just a handful of questions and a handshake and the interview was done. You waited on pins and needles for a couple of days, giving yourself a 50/50 chance of getting the job and trying to not get your hopes up too high.

Luck was on your side, trying to remain composed over the phone when the manager let you know he was impressed with your resume and that he looked forward to having you working at Chateau Belle. Oh you could squeal! The clientele for this kind of establishment would mean hefty tips and that was exactly what you needed.

After about two months of working there and training for a couple of weeks, you felt like you were finally getting the hang of how to present yourself, how to speak and what to suggest. You were very proud of yourself and even formed a few work friendships with your coworkers.

"Who's the new bartender?"

Asking behind the host stand, trying not to eye the tall blonde with his back to the restaurant, going over the liquor bottles on display.

"Reiner, and he's not new, just out of town for a couple of months." Pieck responded, leaning over on her elbow on a pile of menus.

"Oh."

Whispering your response and trying to tear your gaze away from the tight shirt hugging his shoulders, accentuating the defined muscles underneath. No wonder you hadn't see him and he walked in like he knew exactly what he was doing. Better him than that guy who was filling in the role of bartender while he was gone. Ugh what was his name? Zeke?

"Reiner's cool, been working here for a couple of years. He's all the waitress' favorite, and im sure it won't be too hard for you to figure out why." Pieck giggled, giving you a wink and giggling a little more at the eye roll you were giving. You understood why just based on appearances, and you had yet to see his face.

Just when you were about to ask Pieck another question your name was called by the restaurant manager, beckoning you over, presumably to go over what your shift might look like today.

"Since you haven't been trained on cocktails and what not and Reiner's back, I'll have you do that."

"So I'm not going to be waiting tables?" Trying not to sound too dumb when you asked, but not quite grasping the need for you to be trained behind the bar.

"You will, I'm predicting a slow night tonight, but I have all the waiters and waitress' learn a few drinks in case the bar gets backed up."

Oh. That made sense. The restaurant could get unbearably busy without warning and you wanted to be efficient as possible at your new job.

After listening to the last bit of information your manager had to give you, he instructed you to introduce yourself to Reiner before the restaurant opened back up again. Another convent thing about working here was there was a short period the establishment closed to transition from lunch to dinner service, real fancy stuff.

Like you've never spoken to another person before, your stomach flipped on itself, butterflies swarming the closer you got the bar, Reiner not even noticing you yet. Good god he was attractive, chiseled jawline, sharp nose, plump lips and the faintest freckles across his cheeks the bridge of his nose.

"Hi," Clearing your throat, waiting for him to stop looking at the sheet in front of him. "I'm the new hire, John sent me over to train-"

"Oh hey," Coming off of his elbows and pushing the laminated paper to the side and away from him. "Yea he went over everything before I even clocked in, I'm Reiner, nice to meet you."

He was leaning over the bar now with an outstretched hand, warmly smiling at you and waiting for you to shake his hand. Reluctantly you shook it, giving him your name in a sheepish tone with a sheepish smile. God? Why were you so nervous? This was embarrassing almost.

Trying to think of something else to say, you had your plans thwarted when Sasha, the sous chef, stuck her head out from the doors leading to the kitchen to ask you a question. You gave Reiner a small wave before disappearing. Unfortunately Sasha didn't have anything too important to say, briefing you on the evening specials, which were already told to you by several different people tonight. Still, you thanked her and headed back out to the main area to start getting ready. Even for a possible slow night, everyone who came in to dine would still be treated with the top service.

Your first table of the night was someone familiar, serving them before right after you started working here. They were so impressed with your service that they promised to ask for you every time they came in. The man and the woman were a slightly older couple, looking like they may have a few older kids, and boy were they well off, clearly not looking at the price when they ordered and always leaving a good tip.

The wife surprised you tonight by ordering one of the signature cocktails instead of her regular glass of red wine, meaning you got to give the order to Reiner directly. Tonight was going to change a lot of things and wouldn't lie and say that thought didn't excite you a bit.

Putting their appetizers in and the husband's regular drink order, you took your notepad over to the bar and slapped it down to grab Reiner's attention.

"What do you got?" Sliding his way over, taking the notepad you set down.

"French Martini, for Mrs.Scotts."

Reiner's brow raised, one corner of his mouth raising in what you think was a slight smirk. "Doesn't she typically order red wine?"

How would he know? Oh wait, he's been here a lot longer than you have and the Scotts come here quite often too, duh.

"She does, but I sold her on trying one of the drinks specials." False confidence pouring into your words to try and impress Reiner, which was silly if you thought about it deeper.

"Did you?"

Damn. Saw right through it.

"No, but we can pretend I did."

Reiner laughed smoothly, setting the notepad back down and pushing himself off the bar to start on the drink, grabbing things with ease and sometimes without even looking. Suave.

"So I gotta teach you a few drinks and also how to sell, tsk tsk I heard you were picking things up pretty quick."

Cheeky fucker he was, making sure he saw your over exaggerated eye roll at his comment. Whatever nerves had been there before were gone, realizing Reiner was easy to talk to right off the bat, conversation and banter flowing quite nicely.

"Here, before your next table comes in, stop by here for a few minutes so I can teach you how to up sell the drink specials."

Taking the martini and putting it on the small tray Reiner had set out for you, you huffed.

"Aren't you suppose to be teaching me how to make drinks incase you get busy?"

"I can do both, I'm capable of multitasking." Winking, fucking winking at you and tossing the rag he wiped the down the bar with underneath, then tipping his head in the direction of where the Scotts were sitting, instructing you to go give them their drinks.

Due to misfortune on everyone's end, you didn't have enough time to stop by the bar before your next table, the restaurant getting stupidly busy and ruining the preset plans to train with Reiner. Should've known better than to get your hopes up like this.

And maybe you spoke too soon, seeing the rush die down significantly after about an hour and a half, waving out the table you just finished serving out the door, trying not to let yourself get too antsy to swing by the bar.

The second you couldn't see them anymore, you stuffed your notepad into the pocket of the waist apron you wore and sped walk over to the bar. From afar, he looked a bit stressed, brows pinched with concentration, lips pulled into a thin line.

"Bad time?"

Announcing your presence with a question that bordered on an amusing tone, instantly softening the harsh lines of his face.

"Nah, let me make this last drink and I'll train you." Chuckling under his breath, tipping the shaker over the fine delicate glassware rimmed with what you think was salt or maybe sugar.

Instantly, right as Reiner finished making the drink, one of the other waiters, maybe Armin or Eren came by to grab it and rush it over to their table.

"Come back here," Lifting the part of the counter to get behind the bar for you, striding back over to where he was originally standing. Closer to him than you were before, the size of him was so much more drastic. Reiner was stocky, bulky and looked like he could've been a star athlete with his physique alone.

"This is our most commonly ordered drink, a cosmopolitan, which I'm sure you already know, but it pretty simple."

Grabbing a cocktail glass and reaching behind for the vodka, he measured the perfect amount by his eyes only, tossing the bottle back and reaching for another.

"Two or so ounces of vodka, and ounce of Cointreau, then an ounce of cranberry juice and lime juice, garnish with any kind of citrus peel, whatever we have on hand." Saying as he poured and measure all the listed ingredients, handing you a curled orange peel to garnish like he said, taking it and brushing the tips of your fingers across his.

Such a cliche but failing to stop the electricity from his touch running through your veins, locking eyes with him and thinking unholy thoughts. Just glancing at his large hands made you wonder what they felt like touching and squeezing all over your body. Oh good god, get a grip.

"Armin is a little backed up, you mind running this to his table?" Reiner asked after a beat, his voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

"Table number? and sure."

"15. I'll teach you another drink once you get back." Winking, again at his little promise, maybe realizing the effect it had on you. First time meeting the guy and you already want to fuck him. Great.

Smiling sweetly at him, moving the drink onto a tray, you carefully maneuvered out from behind the bar and over to where Armin's table was, you were close to having the entire seating chart memorized.

Dropping off the drink and even grabbing a few things they asked for, you caught Armin and asked if he needed any help, seeing as he was looking a bit backed and no one had been sat in your section since the last table left. He declined even after you insisted, giving in finally but reminding him to come find you if he did need help.

Without much else to do, you went back to the bar, learning a few more drinks and delivering some to the tables they were for. No one had been sat in your section still, the idea that Pieck may have been doing it on purpose coming to mind, though you weren't exactly complaining.

"Whiskey sour, Dirty Martini and a double shot of Crown, Eren's table." Reiner ordered out, barely glancing at you as he set the drinks on the tray.

Balancing the tray partially over your shoulder to avoid spilling, you weaved in and out of customers and staff all rushing around to get what they needed. The atmosphere was tense, stressed as things were slowly picking up again, but at least you already met your goal for tips tonight or else you might be a little irritated at Pieck for not seating your section.

Eren's table came into your vision, starting to make a beeline and being a bit careless when you collided with a customer who walked right out in front of you.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" Instantly apologizing to the man, utterly embarrassed and trying to decide if you should grab the broken glasses from the floor or keep checking over the man who now had multiple liquors down the front of his shirt.

"It's fine, I should've been more aware." Smoothly reassuring you, even going a step farther to help you clean up the broken glass, heightening the embarrassment inside of you. Since when were you this clumsy for fuck sakes?

Apologizing to the nice gentleman again, you rushed back over to the bar and didn't even need to say a word to Reiner, taking the tray and surprisingly not even looking mad. Remaking the drinks faster than he did the first time, he stepped out from behind the bar and took the drinks himself, making you feel even worse than you already did.

Hanging around the bar, picking at your nails and trying to rid the last of the humiliation from inside, you sighed and slumped over the counter, holding your face in your hands.

"Mistakes happen, don't beat yourself up."

Reiner was back, hearing his voice from behind and then beside you, peaking through your fingers, catching his pearly whites in the dim lights.

"It's still embarrassing." Coming up from your little self pity party and looking Reiner in the eye, shrugging and wishing the night were over already.

"So? Only people that'll remember this are me, you and that guy."

"Oh that's so reassuring."

"You're welcome."

Someone was sat in your section a little while after the humiliating slip up with the drinks, keeping you occupied for the last bit of your shift. And for some unknown reason you decided to take Annie's closing shift tonight, maybe as a sort of punishment for fucking up something so simple.

No one wanted to stay behind longer than they had too unless they were closing once the front doors were locked, which you now wishing that were you, tired and wanting to just go home and unwind. Most of pre-closing had been done, saving you a bunch of time since it was just you and Marco closing the dining area. He offered to finish up the very last of it so you could go home and you almost took him up on it until spotting Reiner still behind the bar. For no other reason other than your sinful thoughts did you approach him, in a bit of a better mood since it was only the two of you up front now.

"Thought Annie was closing?"

"I decided to be nice and close for her tonight."

"How saintly of you."

Smirking as he wiped the rim of the glass in his hands, getting the last of the smudge spots off with his rag. Those thick fingers worked a small portion of the rag hard into the glass, really getting in there like it had to be beyond spotless for it to be satisfactory. Neither of you said anything else for a while, Reiner cleaning some more cocktail glasses and you watching him, like you couldn't be home curled up in bed.

"How are you liking it here so far?"

"Just like any other job, but the people here are nicer than my last one."

His brow raised at that, suddenly so much more interested in what you had to say, prompting you to laugh a bit.

"I don't know, no one treats me like I'm incompetent because I'm new, which I didn't think was possible."

"Well you are competent, just based on what I've seen and heard." Seconding your statement with his own, smiling that sweet smile again and hanging the cocktail glass on the rack right above where you sat on the barstool. The muscles in his arm strained against the fabric of his oddly tight white button up he wore. Now that you thought about, his shirt was tighter than you initially thought and it did such a nice job of accentuating his muscles. Here you go again, lusting after a man you just met today. But who could really blame you.

"So Pieck says you were on vacation when I started, where did you go?" Forcing some small talk on your end simply because you didn't want to leave yet, which was such an odd thing to think.

"The beach with some friends."

"Ohhh, I'm just going to assume you wore the tightest swim trunks didn't you?" Not even knowing where that came from but proud of yourself for it landing when Reiner gave a small laugh.

"Do I give off the impression I would?"

"You do yeah." Leaning across the bar, closer to him and wiggling your brows a bit.

"Well, your assumption or I guess impression is correct, wore the tightest ones I could buy. Had to give the ladies something to look at." Flashing you that wink again, but this time sending heat to your gut at the mental image of him in tight ass swim trunks on the beach.

"I'm sure they appreciated it."

Now it was Reiner's turn to lean over the counter, moving in close to your face, almost sharing the exact same air as you in the next to nothing space between you two. You watched him wet his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, imagining what his tongue and lips would feel like.

"Don't all ladies appreciate something like that?"

Air caught in your throat at his whispered question, the insinuation clear in his tone, sending a small shiver up your spine.

"I would assume so, especially if there's something to look at."

"There's something to look at alright."

Fuck you were about to go insane, Reiner was so quick and smooth with his comebacks it left you a bit breathless, not having a quick enough response it seemed.

Again, neither of you moved, frozen across the bar and staring at each other, mainly at one another eyes and lips, hoping for a surge of confidence on either end.

"I'll let you be the judge of that though."

Now you really were speechless, watching Reiner pull away and step back just enough so you could see him from the waist down, and god he was not lying either. It was hard to tell if he was fully hard or not, but shit he was big.

Tucking and releasing your bottom lip, you did a quick look around to see if anyone were around, excited that it was clear and that even the kitchen looked closed down already.

Sitting up on your knees on the barstool. you hoist yourself up and slide across until your sitting on the edge of the other side, shamelessly admiring the bulge in Reiner's slacks, hearing his throaty chuckle and the scuff of his shoes as he took a few steps forward.

"Well?"

Placing his hands on either side of you on the counter, leaning in close again, the tip of his nose almost touching yours.

"I envy the girls who got to see you at the beach." Smirking and pulling back just a bit to tease, only for Reiner to lean all the way forward and press a kiss to your lips.

Taken by surprise, you don't kiss him back, you freeze in shock for a moment before melting into it and wrapping your arms around his neck. This was probably the fastest you've ever kissed one of your coworkers, a new record.

His hands were instantly roaming up your body, messing with the buttons on your shirt, specifically around where your breasts were, setting his goal from the get go. You moaned into his mouth when he pulled you even more to the edge, standing up straight and wedging his way between your legs, pressing his hard on to your crotch.

"Won't need to envy anymore after this." Breaking from the kiss, giving you a smug smile and diving back in for another, more insistent and hungry this time, devouring your mouth the moment his lips touched yours again.

Everything was buzzing inside you, the arousal and tension heightening your senses, making you sensitive to his touch over your clothes. The little noises being lost in his mouth were spurring him on, motivating him to pull more of them from you.

His patience was wearing a bit thin, breaking the kiss again and glancing at your swollen lips, mind wandering to other thoughts at the mere sight. Reiner, swiftly unbuttons your shirt all the way, untucking it from your pants and cupping one of your breasts through the bra and landing kisses just below your collarbone. His thumb pressed against your erect nipple, dragging his tongue across your skin and nipping it with his teeth along the way, your head falling back with a blissful moan.

Reiner really didn't waste time, not even processing he undid your bra with one hand, freeing your tits and nearly moaning too loud once his tongue flicked over one of your nipples. he was looking up at you, smiling as he slowly traced your nipple with the tip of his tongue, laughing deep in his chest as he then enclosed his lips around it, still maintaining eye contact.

"Shit-"

Was all you could say at your body tingled with lust and arousal, your pussy throbbing behind your pants and underwear begging to be free, begging for touch, for his touch.

"Lay back for me."

Instructing with a raspy voice once he came off your nipple, gently pushing you back to lay across the counter, kissing down your stomach and making your back arch. His hand undid the button and zipper of your pants and your had already mindlessly kicked off your shoes, making it easy to slide your pants all the way off, leaving you in soaked panties from the waist down.

Reiner hummed seeing the damp spot, dragging his nose down your naval with another laugh, keeping those pretty golden eyes on yours. If he were a tease during the shift today, you could only imagine what he might be like in bed, and fuck you were about to find out.

Spreading your legs for him, Reiner dotted your inner thighs in pecking kisses, getting closer and closer to your cunt, but also taking his time. He pressed his nose to it, inhaled and then sighed dreamily, kissing right over where your clit would be.

"Fuck I wanna devour you."

You sat up on your elbows, draping one leg over his shoulder, which he came up to stroke with his hand endearingly. "Are you always this horny at work?"

Asking with a taunt in your voice, enjoying the sight down between your legs. All Reiner did was shrug, slip a finger behind the side of the hem of your panties, teasing you with pulling it aside.

"More or less."

"Well then let me ask a different question," Trying to keep your voice steady despite him slowly moving the fabric to the side. "Do you fuck all the new hires here?"

Reiner laughed, finally pulling your panties all the way to the side, flitting his eyes to the sight of your dripping cunt.

"Just the pretty ones." Teasing right before he licked a single stripe across your folds, yanking your panties even more to the side to give him more access, burying his face in your pussy without hesitation.

Your knees automatically wanted to close around his head, but he kept them apart with his broad shoulders, burying his tongue inside your hole and bumping his nose along your clit, raising the pitch in your moans and making it impossible to keep it down. Hopefully no one had decided to linger like you and Reiner were.

His delightful hums and moans vibrated against your sensitive flesh, turning your body weak and unable to stay upright. The shoulders of your shirt were slipping down your arms, finally deciding to shrug it off along with your bra, presenting Reiner with the opportunity to grab and squeeze your tit, pinch and twist your nipple as he swirled and flicked his tongue over your clit like a mad man.

"Sound so pretty, baby."

Words muffled by your pussy but still making you shutter, allowing yourself to get a bit more vocal as he ravished your pussy like no one has before. And he was being just as vocal as you were, groaning and grunting like this were getting him off and it wouldn't be that much of a surprise if he was.

"Fuck, who taught you how to eat pussy like this?" Gasping and landing a hand in his soft blonde hair, pulling on the thick strands and shaking from the stimulation.

"Practice, lots of it."

Barely coming off to respond, taking his own opportunity to shove two fingers inside you without warning, sending you up off the counter and crying out. He didn't even give you a chance to process his response, leaving no room for jealously of any kind to simmer inside with the lust, and maybe that was a good thing.

Thick fat fingers scissored you open of his mouth sucking at your clit, juices smearing down his face, wetting the goatee enough for it to catch in the low light above the bar. You were close, and he could tell, fluttering and pumping his middle and ring finger faster, humming salaciously around your clit, giving you a doe eyed look as he watched you crumble with the approaching orgasm.

Your orgasm ran from your head to your toes, rattling your entire body as you came on his tongue, not even caring that it was all over the bar too, at the restaurant both of you worked at. But shit, who cares, that was the first intense orgasm you've had in a longe time.

Reiner came up, cleaned his fingers with his mouth and smashing you in a kiss to give you a taste. Everything was a blur, barely registering the sound of his pants coming undone or how he held you tightly at the hips and scooting nearly all the way off the counter.

Only when the head of his cock split through your folds did you pull away from the kiss, trying to push him back.

"What?" Looking confused at what you were trying to do.

"Let me suck you off," Feeling as if were unfair that you got head and he didn't not wanting to be any greedier than you already were.

"Next time." Thrusting his hips forward and into your pussy, slamming himself inside abruptly. Thank god you were dripping with your cum and just arousal in general or that might've hurt more than what it did. Your jaw was slack in a silent moan, even Reiner having to take a second to gain his bearings before moving, realizing it probably wasn't the smartest move.

"So tight, holy fuck." Panting above you, his forehead resting on yours as he slowly pulled his hips back only half way, easing his way back in with a gentle thrust. Just from the feel he was thick, knowing you were absolutely stretched out around him in the best way possible.

"God you're fucking big, fuck." Digging your nails into his shoulders to hold on, the only support you had from falling flat on your ass were your legs now wrapped around him and his hand holding you tight at the hip.

"You can take more of me, already sucking me and I'm only halfway."

Arrogance bled through his tone, pushing his hips flush with yours and laughing under his breath. Reiner clearly knew how to work what was between his legs, and thank god too. After endless mediocre hookup for as long as you could remember, it was nice to have some fuck the shit out of you good.

Allowing you some grace, Reiner started with a slow unhurried rhythm, giving you a second to adjust around him before he started slamming into you like a mad man. But you were impatient, clawing down his arms and whispering to him for more and to go faster. At first he ignore you, really not wanting to hurt you, but eventually the warmth of your walls around his dick enticed him to start slamming into you relentlessly.

You clung to him like your life depended on it, the cresents from your nails on his skin started to bleed a little from how hard you were digging into his shoulder. It wouldn't be help, the way Reiner's cocked was bruising your cervix with everything thrust was making you see stars.

He muffles his groans into your neck, occasionally biting down or suctioning his lips around the skin, to leave a mark on purpose. Reiner got off to the blooming purple on skin when he fucked like this, and your skin was so pretty he was dying to see it on yours, didn't matter if you both met each other for the first time today, Reiner was greedy.

"You feel so good, oh my god Rei-ner." Hiccuping through your words, arching off the counter harshly, defying just how much you thought your back could bend.

"You too, god damn." Huffing back, coming off of your neck and holding you down at the hips with both hands, watching his coated dick thrust in and out of your pussy rapidly. As appealing as the sight was, any longer and he would've cum and he wasn't ready to just yet.

Your tits bounced in time with his hips, raised into the air from the arch in your back, making him pulse and get harder from watching, all while inside you with your walls hugging him tight.

Reiner doesn't even know what came over him, just seeing you, how pretty you were and how easy it was to hold a conversation with you made it easier it seems. Normally no he wouldn't fuck someone if he just met them a couple of hours ago, but shit there was something about you that he couldn't quite place.

Beginning to falter in his thrust, Reiner grunted, moving one of his hands from your hips to grip the counter instead, his orgasm unable to be held off for much longer.

"Play with yourself, let me see you play with yourself baby." Whispering between pants, letting his head fall back as he tried to hold back for just a few seconds longer.

You moaned, sitting up on one elbow, using two fingers to part your folds around his thick thrusting in and out, looking up at him and seeing the tired but approving nod at your action. Reiner moaned the moment your started circling your clit with your middle finger, unable to look away as he frantically thrusted in and out of your, breaking his rhythm.

"That's it, fuck yes. You gonna cum on my dick?"

There wasn't much energy left for you to speak, nodding your head with a whimper, eventually murmuring out a yes.

"Can't hear you baby."

Clenching around him with a disapproving whine you cried out. "Yes, I'm gonna cum on your dick, fuck."

A raspy laugh is all you get for that declaration, Reiner approving and holding you closer and pressing you into another kiss.

"Cum with me then." Requesting in a sort of desperate manner, in between heated kisses, holding the back of your hair and thrusting into you three or four more time until he stills completely, filling you while you shook with your second orgasm.

Everything was hot and sticky, your skin stuck to his clothes and felt odd when you pulled away. Reiner carefully slid out of you, biting back a wince from the loss of contact.

He made you wait while he grabbed a fresh rag to clean you up with, getting you a glass of water from the sink behind the bar and helping you back into some of your clothes. He was being incredibly gentle and you weren't really expecting it, but still appreciated it nonetheless.

"You owe me a free drink next shift."

"For what exactly?" leaning back into the counter beside where you sat, idly rubbing his palm on your knee in a soothing manner.

"For making me wearing panties after cumming in me." Snorting out a laugh, knowing there wasn't much that could be done.

"Fine take them off and I'll just keep them." Holding out his hand and giving you a mockingly serious look, before breaking out into laugher after you did.

"Fucking perv."

"Maybe just a little, but don't go saying that when we're at work, I like this job." Turning a bit serious, hoping you wouldn't screw him over with a little joke between the two of you.

"Don't worry, all of this stays between us." Placing your hand over his on your knee and reassuring him with a smile. Whether this was a one time thing or a benefits thing, you'd keep all this right here, behind the bar of Chateau Belle.