#with people that also make me want to put my head through a glass window

[vvelegrin]

who will pay me to tinker with things all day. who will pay me to read my little books and learn so so so much about my little languages. who will pay me to dig a hole to look at the worms and bugs. i will make a whole list of them. who will be the patron to my personal fooling around.

[miaoua3]

(pairing: woozi x f! reader)

happy birthday to my favourite teddy bear🤍

entering the code into the little keyboard next to the door, you slowly open the glass door and peak inside. your eyes naturally go to the chair where your boyfriend usually sits on, right in front of the computer where he lets the magic happen.

but he’s not there.

next, your eyes go to look inside the recording booth, where he usually sings into the microphone that is always set up a little too high for him for the sake of his taller members.

but he’s not there either.

lastly, your eyes fall onto the only place left where your boyfriend could be found. the place where you both spent endless nights talking, cuddling, sleeping, kissing and making love. the place that you both consider your happy place.

and there he is, laying on his back, asleep, with his arm resting on across his eyes.

smiling at the sight, you completely enter the studio, letting the door softly close shut while you put down the bags full of food.

at the sound of rustling of the bags, jihoon suddenly wakes up, ready to jump from the couch.

seeing that, you quickly approach him and quietly say “hey, hey it’s okay, it’s just me, love.”, quickly sitting down next to him and rub his back, while he rubs his face with both his hands.

in his deep and sexy voice, he responds “hey baby. didn’t know you were coming. i just laid for a bit to try to think about the next steps for the song i’m working on, but i guess i fell asleep.”, before he leans back, letting the back of his head lean on the couch, closing his eyes.

sitting more comfortably, tucking your legs beneath you, you start softly playing with his silky black hair, scratching his scalp just the way you know he likes it.

jihoon opens his eyes, looking at you while he smiles. taking your hand in his, he pulls you softly towards him, his lips already slightly puckered, ready for you to kiss him.

smiling through the kiss, you let your lips separate for a few seconds. pushing his hair back, you whisper “hi, my love.”

smiling back, he responds “hi, beautiful.”

smiling brighter, you go back to kissing him, your hands going to his round and soft cheeks out of the habit.

he stops kissing you for a second for the sake of asking you “what’s in those bags?”

suddenly remembering why you came here in the first place, you jump up from the couch and round up the small table, excitedly taking out all the things from the bags.

“first,”, you say, “we have some korean barbecue chicken. then, i also bought some rice for the sake of it. and then we have…”, you continue taking out all of the things and placing them on the table, making it look like you intend on feeding six people and not just two.

when you come to the last bag, you take it before going back to sit next to him. looking up at the clock that hangs above the glass window of the recording booth.

23:57.

smiling unsurely, you start. “lastly, we have…this.”, you say as you take out a little white box. opening it, it reveals a little white cake, with little pink hearts and a “happy birthday!” spelled on it in the same colour.

you put it on your lap before you take out one singular candle and place it in the middle of it.

“i know you don’t really like your birthdays nor being the centre of attention…but i still care about you, and i love you, and i still want to show you how much you mean to me, so. i got you a small cake. and only one candle.”, you smile gently at him, looking unsure.

jihoon smiles at you, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear.

leaning in, he kisses your cheek and then your lips softly, before whispering against them “thank you. i don’t know what i would do without you in my life.”, pausing briefly to gather the courage for the next words. looking you directly in the eyes, he continues “i want for every next birthday of mine to be like this, with you, just us and a little cake. i…i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”, his courage wavers a bit.

smiling back at him, you back away enough to light up the single candle.

looking up at the clock again, you see the time.

23:59.

“make a wish.”, you say, looking him directly in the eyes.

looking right back, he says the wish out loud.

“say yes.”, before blowing out the candle.

putting down the cake gently, you then pounce on him, kissing him with all the excitement that’s been bottling up inside of you during his little speech.

at exactly twelve o’clock, you say yes to his question.

[goldfades]

meeting hayes. | JOE BURROW⁹ [008]

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MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your first couple of days with your little bundle of joy.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | sweet, domestic!joe, fluffy as a little pancake, mentions of pregnancy, babies (yaya!), joe being the sweetest, best dad husband ever, idk what else

APRIL 2022

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖. It wasn’t just the faint, powdery scent of baby lotion lingering in the air or the tiny clothes folded in drawers that made it so. It was quieter but also fuller—like the walls themselves were adjusting to the weight of this new chapter, reshaping to cradle this fragile little life.

You stood in the kitchen, the morning sunlight streaming through the windows in golden beams, and shifted your son higher on your shoulder. His soft breaths puffed against your neck, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of your sweatshirt. He’d fallen asleep after his morning feeding, milk drunk and blissfully unaware of the exhaustion etched into every inch of your body.

Joe was sitting at the kitchen table, one hand cradling a mug of coffee and the other absentmindedly running through his hair, which still stuck up wildly from sleep. He was watching you with that soft, faraway look he’d developed since you came home from the hospital, the kind that made your heart clench because it was too much and not enough all at once.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and warm in the quiet kitchen, “he’s got my ears. Poor kid’s doomed.”

You laughed softly, the sound carried on a yawn. “I think he’s perfect.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re biased.” Joe stood, stretching in that lazy, unbothered way of his that made even mundane movements look effortless. He walked over, leaning down to press a kiss to your son’s head and then to your temple, lingering for just a second. “You need to sit. You’ve been up all night with him. Let me take him for a bit.”

“No, it’s okay—”

“Y/N.” He gave you a look, one eyebrow raised in that teasing but firm way that always made you cave. “Go sit. Or better yet, nap.”

Reluctantly, you handed over the baby, watching as Joe adjusted him with a level of care that never failed to amaze you. For someone who spent his Sundays being tackled by grown men, he handled your son like he was made of glass, his big hands cradling the baby’s tiny body with infinite gentleness.

You sank into the couch in the living room, intending to just sit for a moment, but the pull of sleep was too strong. The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was Joe pacing slowly around the room, swaying slightly as he hummed a low, tuneless melody to the baby.

When you woke, the house was quiet except for the distant hum of the washing machine. You stretched, groaning slightly at the ache in your back, and wandered into the nursery, where you found Joe sitting in the rocking chair with the baby cradled against his chest. Both of them were asleep, the baby’s head tucked under Joe’s chin, his tiny hand fisted in Joe’s t-shirt.

For a moment, you just stood there, taking it all in. The sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. The crib sat untouched—Joe always claimed he’d put the baby down, but more often than not, you found them like this, tangled together in peaceful sleep.

You didn’t want to wake them, but the sight was too sweet to resist. Quietly, you crept into the room and placed a kiss on Joe’s forehead, whispering, “I love you.”

Later that day, you all ventured outside for the first time since coming home. Spring had arrived in full force, the backyard bursting with new blooms and the soft buzz of bees flitting lazily between flowers. Joe spread a blanket on the grass, and you sat with the baby nestled in your lap, his tiny hat slightly askew on his head.

Joe stretched out beside you, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched the baby with a soft smile. “Do you think he’ll like football?”

You snorted. “I think he’ll like whatever doesn’t involve being tackled.”

Joe laughed, reaching out to adjust the baby’s hat. “Fair enough. But if he doesn’t, Maisie’s going to have a meltdown. She’s already planning his college career.”

The thought made you laugh, but it was also comforting in a way. You couldn’t imagine a future where Maisie wasn’t involved, where she wasn’t there to be the chaotic aunt who spoiled your son rotten.

The afternoon passed in a haze of soft laughter and easy conversation, the kind of day that felt like a balm to your soul. Joe dozed off in the grass, his arm draped protectively over you and the baby, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

This was your season, a time of blooming and growing, of finding joy in the simple, quiet moments. It wasn’t always easy—there were still sleepless nights and overwhelming days—but as you sat there, your little family wrapped in the warmth of spring, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d found your place in the world.

The day melted into evening, the golden hues of sunset fading into the deep indigo of night. The baby had been bathed and fed, his tiny body swaddled snugly in a soft blanket. You and Joe found yourselves in the living room, the baby nestled in your arms while Joe sat beside you, his long legs stretched out on the coffee table.

The glow of the TV provided a muted light, though neither of you were really paying attention to the movie playing. It was just background noise, something to fill the silence while you both lingered in the haze of new parenthood.

“He’s out like a light,” Joe said softly, his voice low and warm as he leaned in to brush a kiss against the baby’s downy head.

You smiled, glancing down at your son’s peaceful face. His tiny lips were slightly parted, and his delicate lashes cast soft shadows against his cheeks. “He’s probably the only one sleeping in this house right now,” you teased, your voice equally quiet.

Joe chuckled. “Not my fault he inherited your sleep schedule.”

“You’re hilarious.”

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence. The weight of the baby in your arms and the steady presence of Joe beside you felt grounding, like the world had shrunk to just this room, just this moment.

“We still don’t have a name,” Joe said after a while, breaking the quiet with a small sigh. He leaned back against the couch, his head resting on the cushion as he stared up at the ceiling. “We’ve got to pick something, babe. He’s going to start thinking his name is Little Man.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and tired. “I don’t know, Joe. Nothing feels right.”

“You don’t think Maisie’s suggestion of ‘Captain Joe Jr.’ has a nice ring to it?” he teased, grinning at you.

“Mm, tempting,” you joked, “but I think I’ll pass.”

The conversation fizzled out again, the two of you content to just sit in the quiet, letting the baby’s soft breaths fill the space.

Then, something small and unexpected happened.

A soft breeze stirred through the room, coming from the cracked window that let in the cool spring air. It carried with it the faint scent of freshly mown grass and the distant, earthy aroma of the fields beyond your backyard. The curtains shifted, and in the moonlight streaming through the window, the faintest shimmer of something caught your eye.

You turned your head, craning to see. There, just outside, the moonlight illuminated the grass in silvery hues, creating a soft, glowing haze over the backyard.

“It looks like a painting,” you murmured, your voice tinged with awe.

Joe leaned forward, his eyes following your gaze. “Yeah, it does,” he said, his voice just as soft. “Like one of those fields we used to drive past at night, back home in Athens.”

You blinked, smiling at the memory. The rolling hills, the mist that settled over them in the evenings, the way the moonlight would transform the fields into something almost magical.

“Haze,” you said absentmindedly, the word falling from your lips as if it had been sitting there all along.

Joe turned to you, his brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

“Haze,” you repeated, this time with more intention. “Like the mist, the way the light makes everything soft and dreamy.”

He tilted his head, considering it. “Haze… that’s kind of nice.”

A pause. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, you both looked down at the baby. He shifted slightly in his sleep, his little hand poking out of the blanket to rest on your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Hayes,” Joe said, testing it aloud. His voice was quiet, reverent, like he was speaking something sacred into existence. “With a Y. Hayes.”

You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the softness in his expression. “Hayes,” you echoed, and the name felt like a breath of fresh air, like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.

Joe leaned in, brushing his knuckles gently over the baby’s cheek. “Hey, Little Man,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet affection. “Looks like you’ve got a name now.”

And just like that, under the soft glow of moonlight and the warmth of shared memories, your son became Hayes—a name born not from deliberation or debate, but from the quiet magic of a simple moment shared between the three of you.

↳ 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 ♡

[toutallyahoe]

━ stress relief (not really) ,, that's not my neighbor

requested by: – pairing(s): francis "milkman" mosses x male reader word count: 2503 warnings: cursing, monster fucking, blowjob a/n: joining the bandwagon on save the cow, milk the milkman teehee

switching from 3rd pov to 2nd pov for you tumblr gremlins

Looking at the ID and entry request that was pushed into the hatch, you took the bottom folder as you opened the page to flip through to the correct file and make sure the numbers were right on the ID of the individual in front of you. Also sent a quick glance at the list of people who should have been out and saw that yes... he was out.

Honestly, you have been doing this for months now. Miraculously surviving and not letting any doppelgangers in the building. Getting an employee of the month award for doing better than another doorman (Henry) and surviving. You were used to this job already and knew the tenants well even outside of your work hours, but it wasn't wrong to just double-check like always.

That's how you survived after all.

As you looked at the file and read through it, mentally listing the numbers down, a pain went through your head as you let out a hiss.

"You alright?" Looking at the security window, outside the clear glass, the Milkman's (or also known as Francis Mosses) tired eyes looked at you in worry as he tilted his head, a frown on his lips as he looked. You only nodded as you sent Francis a forced smile, not wanting to show any problem with anything. Having to work as a doorman, you should be calm and professional while not showing any weakness unless you want the doppelgangers to use that to their advantage.

"Yeah, it's nothing," You said as you looked back at the ID and file, sighing a bit in relief as you looked at the numbers. Clear. It wasn't a doppelganger... well... sparring a glance at the security window again, you squinted and the Milkman outside and he looked normal... no imperfections whatsoever from what you remembered... so it wouldn't hurt to answer Francis, right? The worried look on the Milkman's face was not one you wanted to see. "Just a headache, that's all."

"Oh... stress?" You let out a snort as you heard that. What else were there? When the lives of multiple people in this building and your own is in the hands of one single individual... one wrong mistake would lead to the whole building being painted in red. With innocent lives slaughtered by a doppelganger that was just unknowingly let in... who else wouldn't be stressed? The D.D.D. didn't give any training prior to this other than an old tape that you had to watch as you were plopped down into the job. It was truly a miracle you survived this after your first shift. No wonder almost 99.99% of the doormans die.

"You know how it is," You shrugged as you put back the folder in its place. Double-checking your checklist and the files you got one last time, you nodded in approval as you sent Francis a smile. "Well, yer all clear," You said as you reached out to unlock the door. Francis nodded in thanks as he disappeared to come in.

You let out a sigh as you locked the door when you made sure Francis came in, you then slouched in your chair. Closing your eyes as you raised a hand and rubbed your forehead to ease the growing pain you were feeling. God, you would love to get a fucking day off one of these days but unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked... and that means no rest for the doorman as well.

"Are you really alright?" You let out a surprised yelp when you felt someone grabbed your shoulder from behind. You only calmed down when turned around to see it was just Francis who looked at you in worry. "You look stressed."

"Jesus, Francis," You breathed out as you sent out a glare while putting a hand over your heart, breathing in and out as you calmed yourself down. "You scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry," Francis said. "Just worried about you." He added as he squeezed your shoulder gently. Your glare softened after that. You and Francis had been... awkward to say the least. Not after Francis had one day went down on his knees to suck on your dick as you worked. To "relieve stress" and a "thank you" as Francis had said. You were haunted by the happenings of that day. With how the tired Milkman you have been seeing for months just on his knees, underneath your desk and shyly unbuckling your belt and pulling down your pants to suck you off. It was a pretty sight...

Unfortunately, before things got more heated, a doppelganger appeared in the security window to ruin things... which you knew was a doppelganger very well due to... well, it was very awkward when that doppelganger was pretending to be the very Milkman that was milking your dick at that very moment already. Long story short, the D.D.D. was called and both you and Francis (the real one) didn't do anything other than that. It had been awkward ever since as neither of you two talked things out.

"I'm fine, no need to worry," You said, patting Francis' hand on your shoulder as you sent the man a tired smile. "Just a headache like I said... it'll pass."

Francis let out a hum, his tired eyes looking at you as he thought for a moment and then smiled. "Stress, right? How about I help you with that?"

It was like what happened before. Francis was on his knees, tucked comfortably underneath the desk as he was in between your legs. His tired eyes were half-lidded as he focused on the bulge in front of him. Something in his eyes that you can't put a finger to it. Not like you would focus on that when Francis' hands went to grab your inner thighs, rubbing it gently as it seemed like he didn't know what to do before he leaned forward and mouthed at your cock through your pants.

Softly groaning at the sight, you leaned back in your chair as you just watched Francis keep this up for a bit until he was done with the tease to then unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants to pull it down. Nuzzling at the bulge on your underwear as Francis breathed in and softly moaned.

"Taking your time?" You can't help but asked, you weren't really complaining as either way you were getting a blowjob here by the tired yet handsome Milkman. Taking the hat off and putting it on your desk, you ran your fingers through Francis' short brown hair as the man let out a keen noise at your actions. "I don't mind... but someone may arrive soon and you wouldn't want anyone to see you like this, right, Mosses?"

Francis hummed as he looked at you, eyes shining. "Can't I admire you?" He asked as he nuzzled his face back at the bulge, taking a deep inhale as he dug his nails into your inner thighs. "I want to savour this..."

An amused huff left your lips as you stared down at Francis. Something about this man was being affectionate right now and sure, maybe you didn't know Francis Mosses that well as you both had only done this once before and it was even cut short before you could come in that warm mouth of the Milkman but it was rather cute. You didn't expect Francis to have a side like this... unfortunately, you remembered what happened last time as well.

"Well, if we continue with this pace, we might get caught," You said as you pet Francis' head, pausing for a second as you continued. "You can admire later... if you want, we can continue this after my shift..." Hesitant, you were, but you finally said it. And you hoped that if Francis agreed, you both could talk about... you two as well.

"Hm, yes," Francis murmured as he finally pulled down your underwear.

Francis inched closer to your thick cock, gulping the saliva that was produced in his mouth as he stared wide eyes at it. The hand that gripped on his hair brought him back from his thoughts as Francis mumbled a quiet sorry as he then grabbed your dick with his hand. Stroking the shaft as Francis looked up for a moment to see you watching him. You nodded at him and that gave Francis the courage as he leaned close and pressed a soft kiss on the tip, smearing pre-cum on his lips that Francis immediately licked. A pleased hum left his lips as he continued on. Pressing another kiss as he then sucks on the tip, tasting more of your seed. It didn't take long before Francis got down on the cock, swallowing it down in his throat so eagerly.

Francis did have a little bit of trouble as you were rather big and he barely even have any experience of how to take a cock with his mouth, but that didn't stop him. He eagerly descended down huge dick and Francis can't help but moan as he felt the way your cock twitched on his throat. He was even more pleased with himself when he heard you moaning and praising he was doing better than last time.

Francis squeezed your thighs at that last comment with his other hand that wasn't on your dick as he tried to get used to such a large thing inside his mouth, but after a while, Francis slowly bobbed his head up and down on your cock. Softly moaning at times as clumsily sucked.  

"Use your hands," Francis heard you say. It took a moment but once he realized what you meant, the hands that stopped their stroking earlier were now back with their movements again, stroking the part where he couldn't fit in his mouth. "That's it."

You can't help but grab a fistful of Francis' short brown hair as you guided the man to suck you more better. Francis was very clumsy and clueless at this like last time... even more clumsy than before honestly but it was fine as the Milkman made up for being very eager. You didn't miss the occasional glances Francis throw your way as he sucked on your cock. It was very cute. Especially when you would give the man praise after catching his eyes, it only makes Francis more eager to suck on your dick more. Truly adorable.

Francis pulls back and gave a kiss on the tip of your cock before sucking and flicking his tongue on the slit, making sure to catch your eyes as he did. Francis knows what he was doing now from what you can tell. It seemed like the man had grown brave after some time on sucking your dick. A loud, deep growl escaped from your lips as you watched Francis take your cock back in his mouth. Fucking tease.

"This is your fault," you grunted as you grabbed a fistful of Francis' hair. You planned to punish Francis for this. Pulling Francis a little bit away from your dick, the Milkman was confused as he whined a little until you pushed his head all the way down. Francis let out a noise akin to choking as he gagged a little at your cock, tears in his eyes. Francis' body shook as his eyes rolled back. Dry cumming from just that. And you realize what just happened.

Shit. That was hot.

"Suck," You commanded and Francis complied, seemingly not mentally present as he did. Francis continued to go down your cock until it hits the sensitive spot in the back of his throat, moaning immediately.

Grabbing the sides of Francis' head, you decided to take matters to your own as you fucked your cock down the Milkman's throat. Using Francis' warm mouth as your own fleshlight and it seemed like Francis didn't mind. Just letting you be as Francis would eagerly suck on your cock.

It didn't take long until you reached your peak as you breathed heavily. Feeling Francis' throat tightened around your cock, you can't help but shove Francis' head down again while you came. Spilling your load down Francis' throat who didn't have a choice but took it. Not like Francis wouldn't have it any other way anyway.

You slumped in yout chair as you let go of Francis' head, breathing heavily as you looked down at the Milkman and was surprised that Francis never break away from your dick. Instead, Francis caught your eyes as the man gave you a grin while your cock was still in his mouth. You were truly surprised. It seemed like Francis had swallowed your cum but you expected Francis to break away and catch his breath, maybe spit out your cum but no... was this the same Francis who had trouble with sucking your dick earlier, right?

You shake your head and decided to just focus on looking at the man who's still on your cock. Taking the time to admire the pretty sight of Francis as you ran your fingers through Francis' short hair, wiping the sweat on Francis' forehead— did Francis always have a mole there?

A cold shiver suddenly spread throughout your body as you looked at the mole on the right side of Francis' forehead. You didn't notice it before as it was hidden from sight with the hat and Francis' short brown hair but... Francis must have, right?

You didn't pay mind to Francis slowly bobbing his head up and down your dick again as you tried to remember if you ever saw Francis had a mole there from the last time the Milkman had sucked you off. That day was hazy for you as you had to deal with Francis literally sucking you off and then deal with a doppelganger that looked like the same man that was sucking you off underneath the desk and then calling the D.D.D. to clean up the imposter...

Yeah... Francis must have a mole, right? You just didn't notice it before. Yeah, that was righ—

"[Name]?"

You froze as you looked at the security window... the individual that was on the other side of the glass window had an all-familiar white attire, "Milkman" on their hat, and tired eyes that looked at you in worry. Similar. So fucking similar.

"You alright?"

Fuck.

The individual outside was none other than the Milkman, Francis Mosses.

"Problem, dear?" You looked down at your legs and you felt your heart drop at seeing the "Francis" that was kneeling in front of you give you a smug smile, your cock still on his— it's lips. "Francis'" hand gripped at your inner thighs, the nails looked more like claws to your mind now as you felt your body shudder. Those tired eyes looked at you with sick amusement. "You looked stressed."

Fuck indeed.

[fxstpace]

“i’m outside your window.”

“wow. you’re so creepy.” you balance your phone on your shoulder and lift it up, pressing it to your ear so that you can finish folding your laundry. “did you watch twilight recently, or something?”

“no.” jake’s voice sounds tinny through your phone’s speaker. he huffs, and you can imagine the look of utter chagrin on his face. “...maybe. i mean, sunoo kinda forced me to, yaknow? he thinks it’s romantic or whatever.”

you snort, folding a t-shirt and placing it on your mattress. “i’m not surprised. are you actually outside my window or are you—”

a soft knock against your windowpane makes you still. there’s no way your boyfriend is actually outside your room, right? it’s dark and cold, and as much as you love jake sim, you don’t want him to catch a cold just because he wants to see you.

“you’ll never find out unless you open your curtains,” he says. “i love the colour, but i’d prefer seeing your face.”

“jake…” you trail off, walking over to your window and drawing the curtains. he’s there, leaning against the glass like this is some kind of real-life romcom. it’s chilly, but all he has on is a thin, striped jumper and a smile so wide, it makes his eyes crinkle by the corners. you put down your phone and wave at him.

he waves back. you undo the latch and open the windows. “hi,” he says cheerfully, as though this is normal. “i wasn’t lying.”

“oh, my god. that’s all you have to say?” 

jake shrugs. “i wanted to see you. i missed you a lot today. can i come in?”

“yeah.” you step aside, giving him space to climb through the open window. “careful, don’t trip.”

he clambers in, a little clumsily, because jake’s reflexes aren’t the best. he catches himself, though, and lands on the floor of your bedroom with a flourish. 

“wow,” he says, grinning at you, “it was cold outside.”

“idiot,” you scold him gently. “who told you to wait outside my bedroom window like some wannabe edward cullen in this weather?”

jake steps forward and plants his hands on either side of your face. his palms cup your cheeks—rough and calloused, but also incredibly cold to the touch. “mm, i don’t know. i really wanted to see you, that’s all.”

you soften. how could you not? you rub your own palms together to generate heat and place them over his. “your fingers are so cold,” you say. “what if you catch a fever?”

“warm me up, then,” he tells you, and kisses you—just once, softly.

the back of your neck prickles with heat. “don’t say weird things.”

“was i being weird?” jake asks, widening his eyes with fake innocence. “you’re the one assuming things.”

“what?” 

“i just wanted to hold you underneath your incredibly warm blanket.”

you pull away, embarrassed, but smile all the same. “i have to finish folding my clothes.”

“after that, then.”

“okay. i missed you too, you know.”

“aw. someone’s getting all soft on me.”

you throw your half-folded sweatshirt at him in response.

author’s note — let’s all collectively ignore that last line because it is so! anticlimactic! also this was kind of inspired by that one video where jake pokes his head out the window and waves at people during his prada shoot in milan :) thanks for reading 🤍

[ladymoody]

SATURDAY NIGHT

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw +18, childhood friends concept, teasing in public, explicit and suggestive language, dirty talk, v rubbing, blowjob, p in v penetration (unprotected), creampie, cum in general.

word count: 3,7k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist ; playlist ; characters list ; my website

the clock struck 8pm. I won’t lie saying I wasn’t nervous, because I was, I was very nervous.

my parents had recently become in touch with enzo’s parents again after 5 years of no communication, so now I was getting ready in my room to hang out with them.

enzo and I met when we were kids. he was slightly older than me but we were both in elementary school. our parents immediately became friends so we started hanging out quite often.

enzo had always been very sweet with me but also a pain in the ass. since we were kids, we often argued and we almost even hit each other once. though, I cared about him and I guess he cared about me too. through time enzo and I grew up and became distant — we stopped playing together and we began to hang out once every two months at best.

once we started high school, we lost touch and so did our parents.

I often thought about him. I quite missed his presence as he had filled a good part of my childhood memories. the only thing I had left of him was a necklace he got me the last time we hung out — it had a little swan as a charm and I was completely in love with it. I found myself touching it every now and then, in an attempt to feel enzo’s presence with me again.

“y/n! are you ready, honey?” my mom called out from outside — she was already in the car.

“I’m coming!” I said out of the window, rolling my eyes in annoyance.

I glanced at myself in the mirror one more time to check if I looked good. I didn’t know why, but I felt the need to look good. then I grabbed my purse and headed out fidgeting my house keys.

once outside, I closed the door behind me, I locked it, and then I spotted my parent’s car. I saw my father looking at me up and down through the window, his gaze not much approving of my outfit — I was wearing a fancy black dress, elegant and delicate. it was quite long, but not too long, and had a wide neckline that showed my cleavage and my boobs which perfectly sat there.

I approached their car and got in. “hi.”

my father sighed, almost sounding like he grunted. my mom, on the other hand, turned around and smiled at me. “are you excited?”

“a bit, yeah.”

“enzo will have turned into a handsome man by now, don’t you think?” she teased.

“mom.” I warned.

“just saying.”

my dad started the car and I put my headphones on, ready to get lost in my fantasy world as I watched the real one out of my window.

I didn’t want to admit it, but I did feel something odd in my stomach… like butterflies? impossible. enzo and I had only been friends and nothing else. besides he wasn’t even my type — for what I could remember from the last time we met. I sighed and accepted the fact the hangout would have been quite awkward.

(skip time)

my dad pulled over and we all got out of the car. the light of the streetlights surrounding me caught my attention, making me look up and see the dark sky of the night. I loved that feeling.

“cover up.” my dad walked past me looking down at my cleavage. I knew my dress wasn’t so appropriate, but I didn’t have many dresses in my closet.

I grabbed my purse and closed the car door before following my parents into the bar where my and enzo’s parents agreed on meeting.

the bar from the outside looked really good — there were a few glass tables and small dark red armchairs probably made of velvet. there were some people already, drinking and chatting, and enjoying each other’s company. the dim lights were placed on the tables, followed by some candles as well, creating a cozy and elegant atmosphere for the whole bar.

my parents walked in first, making me snap back to reality. I followed them inside, realizing the big moment had come. my eyes lazily roamed over the room scanning it to spot enzo and his parents, but they weren’t there yet. we decided to get back out and sit at one of the tables outside that I had previously spotted. as we settled down, my mom spoke.

“are you nervous?”

in the meantime, I calmed down. I mean, it was just a reunion, right?

“I’m fine, actually.” I replied nonchalantly, both because it was a bit true, and because I still needed to convince myself of it.

(skip time)

I looked at my watch on my left wrist, which showed it was already 9:45pm. the meeting should’ve been at 9:30, but I let out a huff.

before I could complain to my parents, who were busy on their phones, my attention shifted to the three figures approaching us from afar — enzo and his parents.

his mom and dad still looked the same, slightly older, obviously. and enzo… wait, that was enzo? he looked way taller than the last time, his hair was still brown but he had changed haircut as it seemed more like a sort of mullet with a few strands falling down on his forehead, he was grinning and looking in our direction as he got closer, making me appreciate his outfit as well — his black t-shirt amazingly hugged his torso, highlighting his abs and chest, long black pants fell down his legs matching his t-shirt, and the shoes as well, but not his belt which was brown and silvery.

oh my goodness.

I would’ve said it wasn’t him, but the way he was smirking with his eyes made me recognize him without a doubt. that was my childhood friend lorenzo berkshire.

“my god, hi.” my mother stood up hugging enzo’s mom. my father stood up too, saying hi to his dad and shaking his hand. enzo stared at me as I stared at him back. he nodded as if he wanted to say hi to me as well, and I smiled in return.

“you grew up so much!” my mom caressed enzo’s cheek, making him slightly blush. enzo glanced at the ground, trying his best to seem polite in dodging my parents’ touching. after that, enzo’s parents’ attention turned to me, admiring how I had grown up as well. (I will let up on this for your sake).

we all sat down around the table, the seats felt so comfortable. my and enzo’s parents started talking, happy to finally meet each other again, as enzo looked at me — I felt his eyes wandering on my figure so much that it seemed like his gaze was burning my skin. after a couple of seconds, I looked up, seeing his eyes, which shifted quickly from my cleavage to meet mine. I smiled and he smiled back, rubbing the back of his head. as he did so, I could finally have a better look at his silver bracelet that made his wrist look delicate and sexy.

“hey.” he broke the silence, he was sitting right next to me.

“hi.” I said back, eyeing him up a bit.

“how’s your life going?” he asked as he propped his head on his hand and turned his attention to me.

“good, good… yours?”

“same.” he eyed me back up, scanning my figure in my tight dress. his tongue licked his upper lip subtly.

our conversation went going for half an hour and it was totally awkward. not because enzo and I had nothing to talk about, but because I kept feeling his gaze on me all the time — every single movement I did, even the slightest, he looked. to finally break the moment was enzo’s mother.

“you grew up so much… I still remember you playing with my enzo at the playground.” she said with a hint of nostalgia in her voice. I smiled at her words. she had always been so sweet.

in the meantime we had already ordered our drinks — enzo had ordered some martini and I had decided to get the same. the bartender brought the beverages to us a few minutes later and we started sipping them as I kept sharing words with enzo’s parents.

“do you have a boyfriend now?” enzo asked me. his voice had lowered a bit not to let our parents hear us too much as they began to talk to each other once again, shifting their attention away from us two.

“no. do you have a girlfriend?”

“no.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I couldn’t understand why, but I felt relieved by the news of him still being single. I felt… possessive over him? as we kept chatting I couldn’t help letting my eyes fall on his hands several times as he gestured while speaking, even his hands grew up with him — they were veiny now, bigger than the last time we saw each other, and each finger had at least one ring.

“you sure you’re single? no guy drooling over you?” he said out of the blue, his eyebrows furrowed, interrupting the speech he was giving a few seconds before.

“yeah, I’m sure. what’s wrong?” I chuckled.

“I hardly believe a pretty thing like you hasn’t got a nice boyfriend.”

“well, guess what...” I sarcastically spoke and we both laughed.

but then he suddenly stopped, becoming all serious as his eyes stayed on me. I looked at him with a confused expression and I calmed down, finishing to laugh as well.

“I’m glad to hear that. you’re still my friend, aren’t you?” he spoke lowly, marking the word ‘my’ with his voice while his hand wandered on my bare thigh.

I nodded, not understanding what was happening. his touch gave me shivers.

he backed up, now fully focusing on my parents who started asking him questions, yet his hand stayed on my thigh — his thumb caressed my skin every now and then as his other fingers squeezed it.

I didn’t know what to think of it but I definitely enjoyed his touch and I didn’t want him to stop whatever he had in mind.

(skip time)

as the night went on, we all found each other more comfortable than at the beginning. but for each passing minute, enzo’s hand slid upper and upper. suddenly, when I was chatting with his father, his hand touched the hem of my dress, tugging at it, and slightly sneaking under the fabric to brush against my panties.

I tried to hold back a gasp, but I couldn’t do anything with the light blush that spread across my cheeks. I tried to push his hand away, but the harder I tried, the further he went until he completely felt my panties under his fingers.

enzo abruptly pulled his hand away, stood up, and he spoke to his and my parents.

“I’m going to smoke.” he picked up his lighter with his right hand while his left one still wandered in his pocket to find the pack of cigarettes.

“your father and I told you to quit, lorenzo.” his mother intervened.

“I will, I promise.” he grinned as he walked away to find a place to enjoy his cigarette.

“would you fancy keeping him company?” his mother changed her tone, sounding sweeter as she spoke to me.

“sure.” I nodded excitedly, hinting a smile as I stood up to follow him. 

I made a little run to reach him, and he slightly turned back but once he spotted me with the corner of his eye, he drew his attention back in front of him.

“your parents let you smoke?”

“I ain’t a kid anymore, aren’t I?” he replied with a cocky smirk. “but they don’t like when I do it.”

I nodded as silence fell between us again and we headed behind a wall, I leaned my back against it and enzo stood in front of me.

“you still have the necklace I got you when we were kids?” he noticed, gazing at my cleavage.

“yeah.”

“it looks good on your boobs.”

“excuse me?”

“I said it looks good with your hoops. your earrings.” he said, but I swore I had heard something else.

“you think they match?”

“yeah.” I could tell he was not staring at my necklace, but he was looking a little lower. though, I decided not to push it further and we kept chatting for a bit until he finished his cigarette.

“did I tell you I’ve got myself a car?” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

“no, you didn’t.. have you really?”

“yup. wanna see it?”

“ ‘course.”

he tilted his head in the direction of his car and looked at me before we started walking. “I drove my parents here.” he boasted a bit.

“damn, you’ve really grown into a gentleman.” I complimented him, being a bit sarcastic. but he was indeed a gentleman, a sexy gentleman if I might say.

we walked a few more meters before approaching his gorgeous dark red car.

“wow…”

“the insides are even better, come on.” he said as he picked up his keys and threw them up in the air, before catching them with a smooth movement and making his way to open his gem.

“it won’t bite you.” he said as he got into the driver’s seat. I smiled and got in as well.

I admired the insides and as he said, they were indeed beautiful and looked quite luxurious.

“did you pay a lot of money for this gem?”

“uhm… let’s just say that I worked hard for it.” he smirked, leaning against the seat.

“wanna spice this up a bit?” he suddenly suggested as he moved his head to face me. his eyes fell on my cleavage for what seemed like the millionth time that night, before shifting back on mine.

“spice this up?” I echoed slightly confused, tilting my head towards one side. though I knew what he meant by that, I just enjoyed playing dumb.

“yeah, with some music.”

“uhm, sure, why not.” I smirked and he turned the radio on.

(I recommend playing this while reading. check my playlist)

“I like this song.” I spoke.

“yeah?” he spoke back, staring at my lips. I smirked to myself as I noticed how he was not concentrating on what I had just said at all.

“mh-hum.” I nodded as I shifted completely on my seat, facing him with my body as well. I gazed at his lips too.

“would you like to know an interesting fact about this car?”

“yeah.”

“well, it’s soundproof.”

and there I did 2+2. I knew what he had in mind and he was planning on it from the real beginning.

“soundproof, mh?” I smirked. “and how is it useful to you?”

his smirk got wider as he leaned in and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“you’ve grown into a really gorgeous woman, you know that?” he looked at me with a darker gaze, his voice slightly above a whisper.

“I saw you swinging your hips and showing off your little ass as we walked. I immediately understood the innocent little girl I once knew was completely gone.”

my eyes widened for less than a second, before turning back seductive as I listened to him.

“and that little girl, who’s now a menacing woman, enjoined my previous playing on her thigh, didn’t she?” he continued,  his smirk never leaving his face.

“you were crazy for doing that in front of our parents.”

“you didn’t complain.”

“I tried to push your hand away.”

“you didn’t try hard enough.”

“how do you know that?”

“because I know damn well you liked my fingers on your skin, squeezing it and slowly going upwards. I could feel that you were into it… your panties were soaked, doll.”

I sighed. continuing to pretend would’ve been useless. I almost jumped on him, my hands finding his jaw as I held his face close enough to capture his lips in a fierce kiss. he happily wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me onto his lap as he kissed me back. our lips moved so passionately that I moaned every other second.

“fuck, baby… that was what I wanted…” he panted between kisses.

“you taste so good…” I moaned.

“let’s keep kissing then…” he groaned back as we heavily made out. his hand slipped under my dress, finding my drenched panties once again. he rubbed my pussy against the fabric, making me squirm on him, and let out desperate yet muffled moans against his lips.

“fuck… you are completely soaked.” he panted after his hand slid into my underwear — his middle finger rubbed my folds at a slow and sexual pace.

“ughh— mhh..” I clang onto him, my nails dug into his shoulders.

enzo pulled his hand away, leaving me needy of his touch, before starting to kiss me again. I kissed him back as my hand glided from his lower chest to his belt, and then I tugged at it, making him chuckle.

“someone’s impatient?” he teased, leaving some lazy kisses on my jaw.

I hummed in response, backing up enough to give room to my hands and undo his belt. enzo bit his bottom lip.

he lifted his hips up to let me pull his pants down, but without warning, I took his boxers off as well. he let out a low gasp, followed by a groan as he saw his hard cock popping out and standing right there for me. I smirked and immediately crawled back to my seat, before bending over and kissing his tip.

enzo threw his head back and shut his eyes, while my hand stroked his erection up and down and my mouth sucked on his leaking tip.

“ohh just like that…” he grabbed my hair, pulling it almost painfully, and forced me to go all my way down. I slightly gagged but quickly got myself together as I sucked on his dick completely, my lips touching his balls.

I could feel my throat giving me signals that I needed to pull out, but I couldn’t, I was making enzo feel too good.

“ughh! mhh— baby!” he jerked his hips upwards, trying to meet my movements.

I kept going for some minutes until I heard him groan and moan underneath me, so I understood he was getting close. I fastened my pace, trying to satisfy his needs, and in a matter of seconds, he spurted his seed down my throat.

“swallow… go on… swallow…” he encouraged me, panting heavily as he pulled my head back and watched me swallow his cum. I looked at him, not breaking the eye contact as I tasted him on my tongue, meanwhile, he watched me with an arrogant, yet affectionate gaze as his seed dripped down the corners of my mouth.

“backseat. now.” he smirked and pecked my lips, tasting himself on them. I happily moved into the back of the car, laying down on the seats as I watched him do the same thing and lay on top of me.

“you’re so beautiful… you’ve grown so well… fuck…” he groaned kissing my neck like a starved man — but suddenly he pulled away and his hands rushed on him to pull down his pants and boxers fully.

I bit my lip at the sight and in the meantime, I helped him taking his shirt off. he smirked, enjoying how I was as eager as him, and once his clothes were out of the way, he helped me undress as well.

“open up…” he arrogantly spread my legs, making me wrap them around his waist as he lined up against my core. “mhh…” I let out, my nails already digging into his back as I pulled him close to me.

“so wet… I bet you’re so tight too…” he said as he rubbed the tip of his erection back and forth against my folds.

“why don’t you go ahead and see yourself?” I teased him, smirking as I stole him kisses.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard.” he said, his teeth clenched.

suddenly he thrust in. I let out a moan mixed with a gasp as I felt my walls adjust to his size. He hissed, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he slowly started to grind his hips against mine.

“fuck, baby… ohh god…” he groaned in my ear — his thrusts becoming more and more urgent.

I knew our parents were wondering where we were or what we were doing, but enzo’s dick was all I could focus on at that moment. I felt it throbbing inside of me, eager to hit every good spot and make me come undone underneath him.

“ugh— keep going!” I encouraged him as I dug my nails into his back, scratching his skin and making enzo suck in air through his teeth multiple times.

my moans only fueled his hunger, his willingness to come inside of me, and I couldn’t help but give them to him all the time as he pistoned fast and hard. we didn’t worry about using a condom, we didn’t think about it and we didn’t even discuss it — we were too lost in the moment to mention that. I knew I wasn’t on birth control, but my paranoia could’ve waited. enzo was more important.

“ohh, baby! I’m close… please…” his eyebrows furrowed in a blissful expression, letting me know he was indeed getting close.

as his thrusts became more uneven, I began to realize I was getting close too. he was going rough, maybe too rough for me to handle him, and I could feel my body burning due to his harshness, but then I felt it. I felt my orgasm coming.

“enzo!” I cried out, arching my back and throwing my head against the seat. my juices coated his dick, which spurted his hot seed a few seconds later.

enzo grunted in my ear, altering incoherent murmured praises to desperate whimpers. “ohh— baby… god…” he moaned.

I chuckled, my hands caressing his back in a soothing manner.

“you okay?” he asked me, leaving a sweet kiss on my jaw.

I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile and he smiled back.

“we should probably get back to our parents…”

“we should.” he smirked. “but they can wait a little more…”

[steddieas-shegoes]

Congrats on 3K followers, which you so deserve! My request is because The Hold Steady's song "Stuck Between Stations" is stuck in my head and the lyric is, shockingly, "Tonight it's like he's stuck between stations". Have a wonderful writing weekend!

Thank you so much! I decided to take this super literally and do something a little silly. Hope you enjoy!

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

The train was late, but what else is new?

Eddie watched the board as the estimated arrival time kept going up. He’d have to text Elliot to let him know he’d be late for their appointment.

At least Elliot was a regular client of his and would understand.

Eventually, only 18 minutes late, the train arrived.

Eddie shoved through the crowd to get on, not even caring if he had to stand sandwiched between sweaty people as long as he got to his shop.

By some miracle, he managed to get the only empty seat left at the back of the car.

And it was next to possibly the hottest guy he’d ever seen.

He was wearing tight jeans and a polo, glasses, a nose ring, and his hair was perfectly mussed. Eddie was such a sucker for the preppy hipster look. It never turned out well for him, but dammit if he didn’t try anyway.

“Mind if I sit?” Eddie asked the guy.

“Nope,” he replied, not even looking up from his phone.

He was furiously typing something, and Eddie was doing his best to not read anything.

But it sure was difficult and Eddie had pretty good eyesight and also never learned manners.

It’s not even that she left me for someone else. She tried to say that my coming out as bi ruined our relationship. Our relationship was ruined way before that! And she knew saying that would make me feel like shit so-

“Am I entertaining you?” The guy said from next to him.

Eddie startled and looked up, right into the warmest brown eyes he’d ever looked into.

“Sorry. It kinda seemed like you were working on a novel. I’m an avid reader.”

The man snorted and put his phone face down on his leg. “I’m Steve. You should at least know my name if you’re gonna know my business.”

“Eddie. I am sorry. Even more sorry your ex was clearly a piece of shit,” Eddie nudged his shoulder with his own.

The train started moving and Eddie glanced up at crowd of people in the car.

“Yeah, well. It was bound to happen. I wanted to settle down, she wanted to travel and focus on her career. Would’ve never worked,” Steve sighed. “Onto the next!”

Eddie snorted. “How long were you together?”

“Three years.”

“Ouch.”

“It was coming for a while,” Steve shrugged. “I feel like I mourned the relationship while I was still in it. Plus, she moved in with her new boyfriend, so it’s only a matter of time before I move in with mine.”

Eddie felt a weird pain in his chest. “Oh, you’ve got a boyfriend?”

Steve smirked at him. “Not yet.”

The train slowed and then came to a stop. The usual announcement for the next station didn’t start. Instead, an announcement let them know they were experiencing a short delay.

Eddie groaned and let his head hit the window next to him.

“I’m sure my shoulder is more comfortable than the window.”

Eddie’s head shot up at Steve’s suggestion.

Steve was blushing, looking down at his phone like he hadn’t even spoken. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Eddie imagined it.

“If you want. The last short delay took 25 minutes,” Steve continued, finally looking over at Eddie with a small smile.

“I have to let my client know I’m gonna be even later,” Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket to send another text. It may not go through underground, but at least he could say he tried.

“Client? Are you a therapist?”

“Close. Tattoo artist,” Eddie finished up the text and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, my friend Will is a tattoo artist! He keeps telling me to get something, but I’m not the biggest fan of needles.” Steve looked apologetic. “I’m worried I’d pass out.”

Eddie was already planning exactly what he’d tattoo on Steve’s body.

“You’d be surprised how many people I tattoo who don’t like needles. Is it a pain thing or just the needles in general?”

“Both? I guess?” Steve was slowly leaning closer to Eddie’s side.

“Well, the pain is easy. I have a numbing cream I recommend to first timers or people getting something done in an especially sensitive spot that works great.” Eddie let his arm rest across the back of the seat, skin brushing against Steve’s back. “The other part is a little harder, but usually I go the old school distractions method.”

“Like a toddler with a shot?” Steve laughed.

“Exactly! I play music they like or put on a show they wanna watch. Sometimes we just talk the whole time. Sometimes they prefer to just close their eyes and pretend they’re somewhere else. Everyone’s different.”

Eddie watched Steve soak in that information. He technically didn’t take walk-ins anymore except for special events, but he’d be willing to have Steve in his chair right after Elliot’s appointment. He’d stay late. He’d do it for free if it meant having his hands on Steve’s skin.

“Have you ever had someone leave before it’s done?”

“Twice,” Eddie nodded. “Once was a drunk guy who insisted he was sober enough to do the tattoo and halfway through, he threw up and then just walked out. Don’t know if he ever bothered to get it done. The other was a woman who had chosen her ribs as her first tattoo ever. Don’t ever do that, by the way. Not a great start. She quit on the second word of the lyrics she was getting.”

Steve snorted. “What were the lyrics?”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t remember. I’m sure she regrets even trying all the time.”

Steve laughed again and leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie let his arm wrap around Steve’s shoulder and squeeze.

“So? You gonna get one? Did I convince you?” Eddie said quietly. He didn’t want to ruin this moment between them, stuck between stations for the foreseeable future.

“Hm. I’ll consider it. Do you have room on your books for me?” Steve turned his face into Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure I can make room for you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart already? What a sweet talker you are,” Steve mumbled against his shoulder.

“I read people pretty well and you are a sweetheart. No doubt about it.”

Steve groaned. “Are you always like this?”

“Not at all.”

Something in Eddie’s voice must have sounded genuine. Steve looked up at him, his face close enough to Eddie’s to feel his breath.

“This is kind of crazy.”

“What is?”

“This. I feel safe here with you. I’m ready to let you give me a tattoo even though I hate needles.”

Eddie’s fingers traced patterns along his upper arm, mindlessly planning out a tattoo already.

“Could give you one right here,” Eddie tapped his bicep. “Something small, dainty linework, a sunflower maybe.”

“A sunflower? Isn’t that kinda feminine?” Steve’s fingers were tracing a pattern on Eddie’s thigh. “Not that I’m against it because of that, it just doesn’t seem to fit me.”

And maybe yeah, if Eddie thought about it, he could see how Steve’s body type was thicker, muscular, closer to jock than city hipster living off of coffee and cigarettes. Flowers might not be the first thing someone would think of when looking at Steve.

But when talking to him, when seeing how soft he got with an arm around him, how he turned into the affection, it was pretty obvious he should be covered in delicate work.

He deserves delicate things, Eddie could already tell.

He wanted to give him that.

He wanted to give him anything.

“Someone as radiant as you needs something that represents that. Anytime you’re ready,” Eddie couldn’t help the kiss he pressed to the top of Steve’s head.

The short delay turned into a long delay, but Steve and Eddie talked the entire time. When they finally got moving, Steve stayed on even though the next station was his stop.

“Think I’d like this tattoo artist to take my tattoo virginity,” Steve smirked at him as the train started moving again.

“As long as you’re okay sitting through my appointment first. Might get boring.”

“Doubt being near you could ever be boring.”

Getting stuck on the train with Steve turned into barely leaving his side for weeks, months, years.

Nothing felt as natural as being with his sunflower.

[sailoryooons]

BOONGI REQUEST THE SEQUEL !!! honeymooning with yoongi and your trip is a little too richly scheduled considering how horny you both are.... leads to fucking in some interesting places 🙈

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Your tropical honeymoon is planned down to the very minute to get the most out of your trip but it seems that Yoongi has plans of throwing off your itinerary every time his hands touch you. 

❀ Word Count: 4,355

❀ Genre: Established relationship, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Absolutely self-indulgent and gratuitous smut, literally this is the most porn without plot I have ever done, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, fucking from behind, semi-public fucking, light degredation, oral (m. and f. receiving), riding Yoongi, fucking from behind, face sitting, throat fucking, a lot of cum and spit and holes, Yoongi and reader fuck in public spaces where they cannot be seen a lot, temperature place, use of ice (please do not ever take ice from a random ice bucket and put it in your partners vagina, this is fiction and it was handy but do not do that lmao), cum swallowing and cum eating when you squint. 

❀ Published: August 9, 2023

❀ A/N: This is sort of a part two? You do not have to read the first request to read this one, they are easily read separately. Thanks for giving me an excuse to just write porn. There literally is nothing here but porn, I don’t even know if they have chemistry, but they fucking. Honestly I had to cut scenes out of this because I also imagined the infinity pool moment and so many other moments because M and I are fucking insane and ruminate on this shit, but at one point it was just… getting longer and I was RUNNING OUT OF WORDS FOR DICK AND COCK AND I HATE THE WORD DICK IN SMUT IF FEELS NOT VERY SEXY. Okay. Here is my ode to the love of my life, M. This somehow made me more insane.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Part One | Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Listen Along |

“Come on,” You murmur, lips pressed against Yoongi’s warm forehead. “We have a breakfast reservation at that place we talked about.” 

A deep groan rumbles through Yoongi’s chest. It’s dark in the bedroom of your resort, the lights still off and the sliding glass door window still shuttered. Your newly wed is tangled in white sheets, face pressed against the pillow and swollen with sleep. You bite your bottom lip to hide your smile as he buries his face deeper into the pillow.

It’s tropical warm in the room, your skin still heated from the sun the day before. Yoongi’s cheeks are sun-kissed blossom, bottom lip jutted out as he pouts. You think about the night before, biting that bottom lip hard as you came around him in the shower, cold water pebbling on hot skin. 

Sighing, you climb onto him, knees on either side of his waist as you sit. His chest is flushed and warm as you lean down, dress riding up your thighs as you press your forehead to the side of his head. His hair is messy, an inky halo around him as he lets out a sound again, very close to whining. 

Yoongi smells like coconut shampoo and palm breeze. It makes your stomach flip having him this close to you, flashes of the night before making your already sore thighs twitch. Ignoring your more carnal urges, you nudge him with your nose, huffing. Sliding your hands around to the back of his neck, you thread your fingers through his silky hair, holding him there. 

“Don’t you want breakfast?” you ask, hoping the promise of food will lure him from bed.

Yoongi is fully awake now. “Mhmm.” 

Yoongi frees his hands from the sheets and places them on your thighs, squeezing. His hands are warm and callused, sparking a curl of pleasure in you as he rubs them up and down your legs. It’s an innocent touch, but your thoughts turn devious. 

When Yoongi’s hands trace to the round curve of your ass to grab a handful of flesh, you let out a breathy sound and tighten your grip on his hair. He hisses in appreciation, hips twitching off the bed as you growl, “What are you doing?”

Yoongi turns his head to face you, your foreheads pressed together as he bumps your nose with his. “I don’t need to leave for breakfast,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips as he talks. His right hand gives you a playful crack on the ass, making you squeak as the sweet sting riles you up, your knees squeezing his waist. “I can eat right here.”

His hands are firm, fingers dimpling your rear end as he pulls you against his stomach and rolls your hips. Your eyes flutter shut at the barely-there friction, Yoongi lifting himself up a little to help you grind against him. 

“Yoongi.” 

The chastisement is nothing more than half of a breath, already feeling arousal curl in your stomach. Your thighs stretch painfully from the night before, a feel-good burn that makes you spread your legs a little wider to feel the pleasurable strain. 

“Come on,” Yoongi grunts. “Girl breakfast.”

“That’s not what that meme means.”

“Who gives a fuck. Sit on my face.”

Ignoring him is impossible. Yoongi’s hands palm your ass, pulling you forward. On unsteady knees, you shuffle up from his waist to his face, lifting the hem of your dress as you go. Yoongi hums appreciatively, slipping a hand between your legs to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, the stimulation jolting. “We have an itinerary.”

“Fuck the itinerary. You were going to go to breakfast like this?” he asks, slipping a finger under your underwear, swiping through your dripping folds. “All wet and sticky?” 

You whine, fists tightening in the fabric of your dress. He drags a curled knuckle up and down your pussy, pressing into your clit purposefully as he does, making your hips swivel a little. Yoongi laughs underneath you, mouth hot on your thighs as he leaves sloppy kisses, air cooling his spit on your skin as he goes.

There’s no escaping this. Any desire you had to go to breakfast with a view of the beach is gone as Yoongi nips at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, your legs trembling in anticipation. Yoongi is so good at this, making you bend to his will with just a few words and guiding hands. 

Yoongi’s breath is hot on your center as he peels your underwear to the side. You look down at him, pressing your dress flat to give you the perfect view. His dark eyes are focused on your cunt, his lips bubble gum pink, tongue darting out to wet them. His hair is fanned out around him, some pressed to his forehead. 

Smirking, Yoongi uses one hand to pull you forward, lowering you to his mouth. You hold your breath as he drags his tongue slowly from your leaking entrance to just below your clit before rolling licking back down, ignoring your bundle of nerves entirely. Your toes curl, immediately going white hot at the slow feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds. 

“Oh,” you sigh, eyes shutting as Yoongi hums and repeats the motion, determined to take his time. 

With one hand wrapped in your dress, you lean forward, pressing the other hand against the wall to keep you upright. You hang your head down, heady-heavy, eyes falling shut as you heave shuddering breaths.

Yoongi’s tongue is wicked, laving up and down experimentally as you shake on top of him. He hums appreciatively, pulling you down to his mouth further by your ass. A sharp moan escapes you when he fastens his mouth to you, sucking your clit gently. The suction makes your head spin, your skin over warm and tingling, feeling faint in the dark room.

“Shit,” you pant, listening to him make a mess of you, all wet smacks and happy hums. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees. “Girl breakfast. Or is it wife breakfast?”

You’re too busy rolling your hips gently against Yoongi’s face to shoot something smart back, lost in the rough drag of his tongue against your cunt, the buzz of his mouth when he hums. You feel the way your stomach tightens, the way that pressure in your core builds, the tensing thighs. 

The sweet, saturated sound of Yoongi’s mouth backtracks your whines, your fist pressed against the wall, knuckles popping with the force. Sweat slicks down the back of your neck and your thighs tremble as you fuck his mouth in earnest, hips flexing.

It feels hot in the room, your dress sticking to your skin, panties stretched to the side as Yoongi has his way with you. The strap of your dress falls down, abandoned as you quiver, your shoes and purse long forgotten by the door as you start to come undone.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants against your pussy, tongue prodding your throbbing hole. You squirm at the feeling, wanting more. “Breakfast is supposed to have juice too.”

Your laugh sounds hysteric, closer to a high-pitched cry than anything. Yoongi is vicious, pressing his nose to your clit as his tongue fucks your entrance, drinking you in. You’re dizzy, ears ringing as your orgasm mounts. You start to tense up, teeth clenched, fingers pressed numb against the wall.

Eyes shut, head back, balmy skin, you come hard in his mouth, Yoongi’s tongue pressed against you, not missing a drop. You feel fuzzy drunk, letting Yoongi control your hips. He moves you against his mouth, bobbing his lead as he slurps, dropping staccato mhmms as he goes. 

When you’re falling into his lap, skin sweaty and panting, Yoongi sits up, the lower half of his face shining with your slick. He licks his lips, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Thanks for the meal,” he teases. “I want more.”

-

A high-pitched zing whines through the air, drawing your attention to look at the fishing rod on the back of the boat. The reel spins out of control as the line runs wild, handle circling as the fish on the hooked fish runs wild with the line. 

“Yoongi,” you gasp, turning back to him. 

“Fuck the reel,” he growls, fingertips pressing into your hips hard enough throb.

The vinyl cover of the boat seat is slippery with sunscreen, sweat and a little cum. Sun heats your bare back. The burn on your shoulders is nothing to the fiery arousal spooling in your stomach as Yoongi pulls you up by the hips, dragging you along his slick cock.

It’s a calm day on the water, the only motion coming from the way you roll your hips, fucking Yoongi in earnest on the bow of the boat. Blue water glitters around you, reflecting the sun back up toward a cloudless, azure sky.

Salty wind cools the back of your neck as you throw your head back, gasping when Yoongi presses a thumb to your clit, circling slowly. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull is drowned out by the wet slap of your ass on Yoongi’s pelvis, already soaked from your first orgasm.

Your second high blazes through you hotter than the beaming sun. Yoongi growls between gritted teeth, his grip savage as he helps you fuck him. Up down, up down, up down. His chest is flushed and raked with angry red nail marks.

Fishing plans long forgotten, you continue to ride him, the feel of Yoongi’s cock stomach-deep, your walls gripping him tight as you race toward another orgasm. It feels so good, your knees slipping as the boat bobs under you, the up and down motion aiding the way you glide on his dick. 

“Just like that,” Yoongi moans, head tossed back, hair damp and sweaty. He’s worked up, a beat of sweat dripping down his tan neck, jaw flexing as he tries to stop himself from coming. “Use me just like that, baby.” 

And you do, the tip of his dick brushing your g-spot every time you slide down, working your closer and closer until you’re seated in his lap, cock pushed to the deepest parts of you while you come hard around him.

Yoongi waits for you to come down for your high, post-orgasm twitching and panting before he pins you to his chest and holds you while fucking up into you a few more times before he clenches his teeth and comes.

Hot and spent, you both melt into one another, skin sliding against skin as you lay on his chest. He softens inside of you and you become hyper aware of the slide of your mixed juices dripping from your folds and running down your leg. You don’t care, closing your eyes as you inhale deeply.

Eventually, Yoongi lifts his head to peer over your shoulder. You turn around to see that the line has broken on the road and Yoongi laughs, sounding exhausted.

“Fuck it,” he sighs, laying his head back down and tightening his hold on you. “I don’t care.”

-

“My wife is such a little slut,” Yoongi grins, leaning against the sink as you take him further into your mouth. “You love having a mouthful of cock, don’t you?”

Looking up at Yoongi with wide, teary eyes, you hum the affirmative. Dark blush creeps up his neck, his skin visible where the top button of his white shirt is undone. He looks to die for tonight, with his long, dark hair slicked back and just touching his shoulders, a white short-sleeved button up, and dark pants. 

And you? You looked nice earlier, but now your dress is messy with sand from the bathroom floor, mascara running down you face as you swallow around your husbands cock, feeling your throat tighten as you force yourself to the limits. 

You’d at least manage to pay the bill before dragging him into the palm-textured bathroom and dropping to your knees, ignoring the way stray grains of sand from the beachside restaurant burn your knees in favor of taking him into your mouth.

Yoongi slouches against the sink, his shoulders pressed into the mirror as he closes his eyes and angles his head back. You take him further into your mouth, letting spit escape the sides and run down your chin, working what you can’t fit with your hand. Your wedding ring flashes in the low light and drives you mad, loving the way the diamond looks on your hand while it’s wrapped around him. 

You’re ravenous tonight, staring up at him with clenching thighs, watching the way Yoongi unravels. Pulling back, you pop off of him, strings of spit and precum connecting the brown tip of his cock to your lips. You break it, leaning forward to run your tongue along the frenulum of his cock, earning a whine from him.

Grinning, you continue your assault, dragging your tongue down the thick vein on the underside of his cock until you reach his balls, giving a teasing lick that makes his hips cant off the sink.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he warns. “I fucked you the way you asked for three times today, baby. Don’t I deserve to cum in that pretty little mouth?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pumping him with your hand as you come back up. “Want to come in my mouth?”

Yoongi’s hand shoots to the back of your head, fingers squeezing your skull. It’s not painful, but it’s firm, making you grin up at him, delighted. “Okay then,” you agree, tightening your fist on him a little more, pumping him a little fast. “Fuck my throat.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yoongi’s grip on the back of your head stays solid, a comforting feeling as you get a little dizzy from the way he looks down at you, eyes fathomless. Starving. He uses his other hand to prop himself against the sink before he drives his cock into your mouth.

The slide is rough and messy. You flatten your tongue and open up the back of your throat, the sound of you choking wetly around him drowning out the hiss of air between his teeth. You breathe through your nose, your hands gripping his thighs and digging your nails in hard into his flexing thighs.

Absently, you wonder if anyone walking by can hear the gurgle of your mouth, the stilted grunts as he flexes his hips.

Throat burning, eyes stinging and dripping tears, you let Yoongi go wild until he’s coming deep down your throat, a hot and thick mess. He pulls out gently, letting you gasp for air, mouth swollen and sticky as you pant.

Yoongi pulls you up from your knees, holding you tight as you lose your balance. His grip is crushing and he smashes his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste the mix of cum and spit, hungry for it.

When he pulls away, his lips are pink and slick and his chest is heaving.

“We’re going to miss that concert I bought tickets for,” you complain, giving him a pout.

“Fuck that concert, we’re going back to the hotel room and I’m going to fuck you for the next three hours, baby.”

-

Admittedly, hiking wasn’t the best event on your itinerary. When you’d planned the adventure originally, you hadn’t accounted for the fact that your legs would be near unusable from days of Yoongi folding you in half to drill into you, or the fact that the jungle is, in fact, hot and humid.

Yoongi walks next to you, his thumbs tucked into the straps of his backpack as he goes. His hair is pulled up into a bun, a few loose strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. He hasn’t complained once since starting the uphill trek through the trees and sifting sand, though you can tell he’s also spent from his inability to stop touching you this entire trip.

But you really want to attempt to get to a single thing on your itinerary for this trip, and the ruins will be out of the question tomorrow when it rains. So, you persist, legs wobbling as you high up the path, shirt sticking to you and scent of sunscreen following you like a coconut cloud.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Yoongi askes, looking up at the gleaming sun filtering between branches. “We haven’t seen a single person.”

“There’s steps, aren’t there?” you ask, gesturing to the path. “There’s ruins that aren’t as much of a climb that everyone prefers. Plus, it’s hot as shit. I wanted to see the good ones though.”

“Anything for you.” 

A few more minutes pass before Yoongi sees you lagging a little. The burn in your thighs is real, remembering acutely the way Yoongi had pressed them to your chest last night as he fucked you slow and deep. The memory makes you shiver, a post-orgasm twitch still haunting you an entire day later.

“Come on,” Yoongi urges. “It’s flat up here, we can step off the path and take a break.”

Yoongi finds some broken trees that have fallen sideways to sit on. You’re grateful, taking deep gulps of water. It immediately cools you down and you close your eyes, rolling your shoulders. Yoongi guzzles down water next to you, his arm pressed up against your.

After a few minutes sitting, you get up and turn to face the fallen tree, bending over at the waist to lean against it in a deep lunge, stretching your hamstrings. It’s a soothing sort of pain, the extension of muscle a relief. 

Yoongi looks at maps on his phone behind you, waiting as you you switch legs and arch your spine, feeling a few joints pop in release. It feels good and you sigh, letting the tension bleed out of you.

Hands find your ass, gentle and curious. You look over your shoulder to find Yoongi looking at you with his brows raised and head tilted. A question. You know he’ll back off immediately if you shoo him away. Instead, You burst into laughter and shake your head, “Seriously?”

“What?” 

You stare at him. He looks delicious, sweat dripping down his Adam’s apple, hair pulled back. He’s dressed simply and yet, looking at him looking at you, wanting you the way that he does makes you vibrate. It doesn’t matter how many times you have him, you always want him more. And again.

You married Yoongi for a myriad of reasons. Because he is gentle and kind, because you like the way he takes his coffee and reads the paper in the morning, because you like that he uses mint shampoo, because you like that he has to line his shoes up perfectly next to the door. 

Everything about him enchants you, and you’re over the moon to have someone who doesn’t shame you for your carnal desires, that you have someone who matches the energy, who can take it and give it to you anywhere you want. 

Yoongi is the perfect balance, always knowing when to initiate, always knowing when it's a good time.

“I know that look,” he smiles. “Now you’re thinking about it.”

“Can you be quick? I don’t want someone to stumble on us.”

“Fuck yeah I can,” he promises, dropping his backpack and popping the zipper on his pants. You let out a pathetic sound at the sight, earning a smug look from Yoongi. 

Yoongi peels your legs and underwear down to your knees, just enough to get access to you but also safe enough to pull them up quickly if you need. His clothed chest presses against your back as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your middle in what seems like an innocent hug.

You gasp as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, the stretch a little painful with no prep. It doesn’t matter, though. He pushes in slowly, letting you get used to it until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around him. 

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, pressing butterfly soft kisses to your cheek and temple. He starts thrusting shallowly, stealing your breath away. “You are my perfect, beautiful, wonderful wife.”

“Fuuuck,” you whisper. Yoongi isn’t fucking around, making his thrust precision perfect, pressing that soft spot inside of you. Your thighs are pressed together, making the fit even tighter, feeling him even more. “You’re just saying that cause I’m letting you fuck me against a tree.”

“Untrue, I say this all the time.”

That’s fair. Yoongi does tell you that he loves you. More often now than he used to, more verbal than his little utterances of love by readying your coffee long before you were awake in the morning or picking up the things you were missing from your pantry on the way home. 

“You’re right,” you pant, head lolling to the side as his mouth seeks the heat of your throat. “I love you too”

The tree bark bites into your hand as you take him fully. With the way your legs are pressed together and the angle that you’re standing, it feels like Yoongi is punching to the very core of you, making the world spin. You think you might collapse over the tree if he weren’t holding you up. 

“You’re just saying that cause I’m fucking you against a tree.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the fact that Yoongi picks up the pace, fucking you hard and with purpose. His hand slips between your legs, finding your clit and pinching it lightly, making you squeal and twitch. He laughs, choosing to circle it instead, working you faster toward an orgasm as he pounds into you, punching the breath from your lungs. 

Sex with him is different every time. You don’t know how you manage to never get tired of it, but it never feels the same. Not with him. Every time feels like you’re discovering something new, 

When you do come, you suddenly feel like you can run the rest of the way up to the ruins, energized on the endorphins alone. 

“I’ve heard of post nut clarity,” Yoongi jokes, tucking his cock back into his pants. “But never post nut energy.”

“It’s like a second wind.”

“Dickened wind.” 

You glare at him, tossing his backpack to him. “Stick to writing songs, not jokes.”

-

“You’re so fucking swollen,” Yoongi groans, thumbs peeling apart your folds. “Cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your face pressed down into the pillows of the daybed, ass up in the air with Yoongi behind you. The sound of the pool and anyone beyond the closed curtains of the banana are muted by the tropical music of the DJ. All the better to drown out the sound of your husband spitting onto your exposed heat. 

“Cause you’ve been fucking me insane all week,” you protest, body vibrating. Yoongi hums thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything, letting his spin trail slowly down your slit. You’re already wet from the way his greedy mouth sucked at your chest. “Baby, please. I want your mouth.”

“Yeah? You all hot and bothered?”

“Yes.”

“Let me cool you off.” 

Yoongi’s hands leave your ass for a moment. You’re too overheated from days in the sun and the rising tropical temperature to look at what he’s doing. You’re in a slow daze, a little buzzed from sweet drinks and Yoongi’s mouth, from sloppy kisses that taste like strawberry and Yoongi’s cute little sunburn on his ass from falling asleep after letting you drive him insane with your mouth on the private balcony the day before. 

Now, you hear the clicking of something moving around the ice bucket. Your brows furrow and you’re about to turn your head to look at what Yoongi is doing when you feel ice cold water slow drip onto your ass. 

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of the daybed and arching your spin. The water is a cool burn, a relief that drives you mad as he makes a pleased sound. “Ohhh fuck, again.”

“More?”

“Fuck yeah.”

There’s the sound of more ice and Yoongi is dripping the cold water on your ass again, making your lower spine tingle and toes curl. The cold drips move closer to your cunt until he’s directly over your clenching hole. The shock of cold against hot sends you into a frenzy. You wiggle your ass back and forth, asking for more, eager for it. 

Yoongi has never been one to deny you. This time, you feel his lips around an ice cube, dragging his cold kiss over the swells of your ass, letting the ice melt on his tongue before lapping at your pussy, tongue cold against your dripping heat. 

It drives you mad. Your fingers ache with the way you clutch the pillows, pressing your face hard into the daybed as Yoongi does this a few times, bringing his cold lips to mouth hungrily at you until it’s all he’s focused on, forgetting the ice in favor of sucking greedily at your clit. 

Your spine feels like it might crack, bowed dangerously as you press back into his face. He moans at your eagerness, tongue twisting between your folds as eats you out in earnest. If it weren’t for the privacy curtains and the DJ booth, you’d never get away with this. Yoongi is not quiet, smacking his lips like a glutton. 

Air escapes you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm bears down on you. Your face is pressed so far in the cushions that you don’t think you can breathe, your lungs contracting and your chest squeezing as you come on his tongue without warning, a silent scream raging through you.

Stars burst behind your eyes. Yoongi takes it in stride, licking you long and slow as you remain rigid for the duration of your high. When it finally begins to subside, you fall to the side, sprawling boneless and feeling drunk.

“Holy shit,” you croak, voice gone. “You were right. Fuck the itinerary. This is so much better.”

[pubes-xxx3]

i haven't written fanfics in forever but this came to me in a dream after seing more and more Tom Taylor/Cregan content.

i'm not a native speaker and i'm not willing to go to length to write proper english, so this is all i can offer.

this fic is loosely inspired by my own backpacking trip where i was stuck in a train somewhere in austria and things would've been so much better if they ended up like this:

A Game of UNO

everybody has had a crush on a stranger on public transport, right? this is a story about how briefly meeting one of the most handsome men ever has turned your life upside down (always wanted to use that cringe sentence somehow lol)

warnings: a bit of smut, fingering, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, semi-public 'sex'

words: ~8.5k

this is set in the modern world, somewhereon the tracks of eastern europe.

also loosely inspied by this story from toms insta because if that man was sitting in front of me in a train, i would forget myself

https://x.com/tomtaylorfiles/status/1832120778034237528?s=19

you struggled as you tried to squeeze past multiple other patrons trying to find an empty seat, your backpack getting caught on door handles or in tight spaces as you tried to be as little of a nuisance as possible.

it was only your second week of backpacking, yet you already had enough of it. currently traveling from croatia to slovenia, you were already struggling with the scorching august heat.

it was hot.

you felt sticky.

your travel-buddy injured himself and had to cut your backpacking trip short.

the last thing the universe could grant you was a decent seat near an open window, preferably without anyone getting into close proximity to you.

just as you finished that thought you reached the end of the train wagon.

an annoyed sigh left your lips as you tried to shimmy around, your backpack trapping you once again in the narrow hallway leading past the secluded compartments of the train.

once you managed to make a 180° you were met with blue eyes from the other end of the hallway.

most people managed to find some place to sit, so you were able to get a clear view of the tall brunette smiling at you.

“no seats?” he asked, and you shake your head. “nothing available i fear…” you said as he approached you, double checking the seating-situation through the glass doors of the compartments on his way over to you.

“i guess we’ll have to take the floor then” he said as he hauled his own backpack off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a thump loud enough to make you fear he put a hole in the floor of the old train.

you eye him carefully as he opens one of the many zippers of the backpack to pull out some random cardgame “you know how to play?”

by now it’s obvious that he does not plan on enjoying the train ride separately, so much for nobody getting into close proximity.

you shake your head.

“i only know mau mau…” you admit ashamed.

his confused eyes met yours as he was about to settle on the floor, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“what, like a cat’s noise?”

you sigh again as you struggle to take your backpack off, “no… I mean it does sound like it, but it's a lot like UNO. just with different cards.”

as you finally managed to let your bag fall to the floor, you let out an annoyed huff before you dropped to the floor yourself, propping your back against your tightly packed luggage.

“i would show you how to play but my brother took the deck of cards with him”

“where is your brother?” the strange man asks as he sits down as well, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscular thighs bulged under his linen shorts.

“had to take a plane home.” you tell him

“we wanted to backpack through the EU together to celebrate his graduation but the idiot broke his foot on a hike not even a week after we left home.” you keep on rambling.

while you were talking the guy in front of you started to dig through his backpack without lifting his gaze from yours.

“well, i’m sorry to hear that. hope he’s having a quick recovery.”

you can only nod as you watch random stuff from his bag fall in his lap as he’s going deeper into it.

“i’m y/n by the way, sorry for blubbering around.”

“it’s fine. i’m cregan” he answers as he triumphantly pulls another cardgames’ box from gis luggage before placing it between you on the floor “nice to meet you!”

as you realized what he’d searched his bag for you couldn’t help but smile “i thought since you knew a game like UNO, might as well try the real thing.”

nodding and smiling at him, you grab the deck and start shuffling the cards while he stuffs the few stray items back into his backpack.

“may i ask where you’re from? i’m guessing the UK but i’m not sure… i’m not that great with accents” you say as you lay out the cards for each of you.

“well, i guess its not that hard to tell in my case” he laughs “i’m from northern england”

“so scottish?”

“not that far up north”

he smirks at you and you can’t help but laugh, his eyes wandering over your frame as you’re distracted with sorting your cards. he does the same, laying down a red 7 on the foundation card.

“your turn”

“IN WHAT UNIVERSE ARE YOU ALLOWED TO PUT TWO BLACK CARDS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER?”

his loud voice erupts through the train. it’s not the first time either, so at this point a few other travelers peak through the glassdoors to glare at you.

“what do you mean?” you laugh, acting innocent as he rambles about rules of the game you “clearly didn’t know or at least didn’t care about”

by now you were at the sixth round of the game and you had multiple disagreements about certain rules. the first few times were accidental, as you really did play a bit different than him, but by now it was out of principle.

the way his eyebrows carved into a deep frown each time, his hands frantically flapping around as he explains how fundamentally wrong you are with no real vigor to it: it was endearing to watch.

“i’m sorry cregan, but that's how i was taught to play” you shrug “it’s just like last time”

his lips are pressed into a tight line as he looks up at you again “it’s alright” he sighs as he puts down his last card “because i would’ve won anyways”

your mouth falls open as he snickers to himself, collecting the cards from the floor and plucking your remaining stack from your hands.

“one more round? i have to get off in two stops” he asks as he shuffles the deck once again

“sure” you smile, even though you would prefer it if he stayed.

the next stop comes and multiple people get off, as this is the last stop before crossing the border to slovenia.

a frown forms on your face as the first fat drops of rain hit the windows and the sky darkens considerably.

the rails snaked themselves through the scenic mountains of the balkans for quite some time now, but the sudden change of weather made the rocky slopes loom over you scarily, as if the sky was trapping you in and crushing you in the valley of two mountains.

the rain got heavier as you left the last town behind and it took only a few minutes before the first thunder erupted from the skies.

UNO was the last thing on your mind right now and cregan seemed to notice your change of mood.

“hey, it’s just a bit stormy. no need to worry.” he smiles at you as he reaches over to reassuringly grab your hand, squeezing it lightly to get your attention.

as your eyes met, the train came to an abrupt halt in its tracks.

the lights flickered for a moment and you held onto his hand tightly as you waited for someone to tell you what was going on.

soon enough the train attendant came by and tried to explain what was going on, the only thing you understood was that there was some rubble covering the tracks and that you had to wait.

great.

cregan reassured you that it would be fine and probably just take a little time, but after almost an hour passed you started to grow restless.

“listen, i know you are worried right now, but maybe we should try and get your mind off of this.”

as he spoke, he rose to his feet and offered you his hand once again. a blush crept up your neck and covered your cheeks at the suggestive tone in his voice.

you grab his hand quickly, letting him pull you up and standing a bit closer to him than really necessary.

“what do you have in mind?”

“you not hungry?” he asks through his mouth full of soup.

your eyebrow twitches as you sip your tea from a flimsy plastic cup “no, thanks for the drink tho”

apparently his idea of getting your mind of a thunderstorm rocking the still train was a lot different than yours.

as he pulled you to your feet in the hallway of the train wagon, you had realized how most of the compartments were empty by now. he had taken your backpacks, hauled them into the luggage racks of one of them before turning around smiling.

a chill went down your spine as he stepped closer, taking your hand in his once again before shooing you out the door again.

“let's get something to warm you up. your hands are freezing.” with that he started to lead the way towards the dining car.

you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

was it like you to just fuck a random stranger on the train? no.

did the last two hours of playing and laughing with cregan convince you that you actually liked that strange british guy? absolutely.

the way he talked to you, his laugh vibrating in your chest every time you used a proverb the wrong way while trying to seem savvy, his gaze always holding yours but scanning over you every time you looked away.

it made you crazy about him.

you also couldn’t help but notice that his thick thighs weren’t the only enticing thing about him. his choppy brown hair and stubble framing his face nicely, his shirt tightening around his chest every time he straightened his back and shoulders, and most importantly: the way he listened to everything you had to say with a look of genuine interest while staring you down.

it made you tingly all over again, thinking about the intense eye contact you held with him (something you usually struggled with).

your thoughts were disrupted by the noise of cregan's plastic spoon scraping up the rest of his suspicious looking soup.

you watched as he liked the spoon clean before tossing it away with the rest of your disposable cutlery, as you were also finished with your tea.

“can i do you for another one?” he offers, considering he had paid for your first drink already you just shook your head.

“thank you though. i think we should get back to the compartment, i don’t wanna leave the luggage alone for too long”

“fine, you can go ahead. i’ll get something for myself and then i’m right behind you”

by now almost two hours had passed since the train stopped. two hours you spent with the sweetest young man, telling you about his family and his travels.

you can’t help but sigh again as you reach the compartment, trying to think of the least awkward way to ask him for his number.

the inside of the train had cooled down considerably over the past few hours and you shiver as a draft brushes over your bare shoulders. trying to reach your bag to cover up was to no avail, as cregans considerably larger backpack was blocking yours.

you struggle as you try to free your sweatshirt from the bag one more time as the door slides open.

“need any help with that?” cregan asks as he shimmies past you to place a glass bottle down on the little desk below the window.

“yes please… it’s freezing and i can’t turn down the AC in here.” “here let me…”

he reaches past you and you duck, shying away last minute as his chest brushes your back.

he throws you a dark gray bundle rather than handing you your luggage. you frown at first before realizing he gave you a piece of his clothing to cover up.

you don’t comment on it, just pulling the soft half zip sweater over your head to not draw any further attention to your very prominent blush.

your nose is flooded with his smell, a nice combination of pine-scented deodorant and his personal musk. the soft wool of the sweater warms your skin quickly and you smile as your hand brushes over the small wolf emblem resting over your left pectoral.

“thank you…”

you smile down at him where he sat down next to the window, but before he could reply you frown at the beverage he brought with him from the dining car.

“is that… red wine?” you ask bewildered “what, were they out of any hard liquor?” you mockingly ask him as he takes the bottle to unscrew the cap.

“no, well… the train attendant came in as you left and informed us that because of the thunderstorm they can’t do any work on the railway. we’re gonna be here for a while so i thought we might as well get cozy” he smiles at you sheepishly.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at the news as you plop yourself in the seat next to his “maybe you should’ve started with that” you sigh before reaching over to grab the bottle from his hands

“it’s a nice idea though, let’s get comfy…” you smile at him as you take a swig from the bottle, the sour taste of cheap wine flooding your tongue.

“cheers!”

the compartment is filled with giggles and laughs as you finished half the bottle together, passing it back and forth between you.

“so, wait… you’re telling me you realized it was a musical after you had to audition for it with a musical number?” you spurt out as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.

apparently, cregan stark was a theatre kid. you also learned that his last name was stark, and that he comes from a family of gifted sportsmen, him being an aspiring ice hockey protege apart from his gift for theatre productions at his university.

“it wasn’t supposed to be a musical when i first got the script, i swear!!” he laughs as he takes another swig “who would expect a pop-musical production of King Lear?”

you shrug as you take the bottle from him again “i don’t know man, but still…” trying to remember what witty remark your drunk brain had prepared for him you look past him out the window, watching the rain pour down and forming small streams down the rocky side of the mountain.

“what was your favorite play? like, were you ever the lead or something?” your eyes find his again as you try to keep the conversation going, hazily reminding yourself that there was still something you wanted to ask of him.

“i was romeo once, in freshman year” he smiles shyly “don’t even know why i got the part, i was to nervous to remember any lines”

“they probably just wanted a handsome face for their lead” you giggle “the story wouldn’t make any sense if romeo wasn’t smoking hot”

“that's not true…” he says before taking another swig.

“yes it is, i mean come on… they were super young, they were basically told that they could be with anyone but the other, and they had to be super hot to find it enticing to run off with each other instead of just carrying on with their families rivalry”

you ramble along, remembering the lecture you held about this english class back in highschool

he looks confused as you carry on with your lecturing before putting a hand on your arm to pause you “no, that makes total sense and stuff, but i meant the part about my cast.”

now it’s your turn to look confused, partially because you couldn’t follow him but mostly because the warmth of his hand seeping through his sweatshirt was a welcome distraction

“i wasn’t cast because i was handsome”

“are you fishing for compliments now?”

“what? no!” he frowns at you “i looked like an egg back then, had a buzzcut and all that…”

he leans back in his seat comfortably as he holds the bottle out for you “but thanks for saying i’m hot anyways” a grin spread over his lips at your flustered expression.

“you really are” you tell him as you reach for the bottle, cregans fingers brushing yours. instead of pulling away he holds the bottle between you, nudging his fingers against yours and squeezing your arm where his hand still layed.

his eyes scanned over your face before he spoke again “you would make a nice juliet yourself” “are you calling me pretty?”

he scoffs “now you’re the one fishing for compliments” “i’m not! i just wanna hear you say it” you laugh, leaning a bit closer.

cregan leans in as well, and you’re sure he can smell the cheap wine on your breath

“you’re very pretty” he mutters as his gaze flickers to your lips, “especially with the wine staining your pretty lips”

you lick your lips out of reflex before you meet his gaze again.

“can i kiss you?” he asks at the same time as you, resulting in a snort from both of you

“i’m taking that as a yes” his lips met yours, his hand leaving your arm to cup your cheek delicately.

he pulled away almost as quickly as he pressed the kiss onto your lips, which left you confused

“that was only a peck… you gotta kiss me!”

before you could complain any further he came onto you again and this time, it felt like a real kiss.

his hand on your cheek guided you towards him and your lips met again, at first only moving carefully to try and find a comfortable rhythm until you slotted against each other perfectly.

he kept pulling away just to reconnect your lips quickly, only taking a second to breathe before filling your body with warmth again.

you don’t remember who incorporated tongue first, you just know that he had the most delicious taste to him.

the more heated the kiss got, the closer you tried to get to him. the bottle of wine was long forgotten on the floor of the compartment as you finally took a leap and broke the kiss for a moment to climb into his lap.

you barely manage to straddle his thighs in the narrow seat, so cregan quickly flips up the armrest to make some room for you.

considering how hesitant you were earlier to even play cards with him, you certainly changed your biases quickly as you scoot up in his lap until your chest grazes his.

he looks up at you through his lashes as his hands find their place on your jeans clad thighs “is this okay?” you ask him nervously as you push some of his hair back

“i can get off if i’m to heavy, i just thought-” he cuts you off by pulling you even closer, his chest now pressed to yours and his hands wandering up to grab your hips.

“you’ll stay right where you are, understood?” you can merely nod before cregan pushes another kiss to your lips, this time there's no hesitation to push his tongue into your mouth. the faint taste of cheap red wine making you dizzy.

your hand pushes into his hair once again, this time to grab it as your other finds its way to his waist, ghosting over the hem of his shirt before dipping your fingers underneath to feel his hot skin.

you can feel him shiver beneath you as you push yourself even closer, your nails skimming up and down his side. his hands started wandering as well, first lighty massaging your upper thigh before he resorted to plainly grope your ass.

it was a welcome surprise to feel his fingers indentations on your flesh even through the thick fabric of your jorts, his initial roughness soon turning into soft guidance of your hips against his pelvis.

as the kiss you share turns more and more desperate, whimpers and grunts being swallowed by the others mouth, your hands keep wandering all over his upper body. you couldn‘t decide whether you wanted to map out his entire body with your fingertips or just hold him impossibly close.

at some point, cregans left hand had slipped underneath your (his) sweater to hold you even closer by your lower back, your core being held in place while his right continued to guide your hips in a leisurely paced grind over his hardening length.

feeling the compartment heating up, sweat forming beneath his broad palm pressed to your skin, the desperation on his tongue being thrust into your mouth, you decide you need to take a breather before things get on to well to quickly.

reluctantly, you pull your head back and with that, leave cregan to desperately pant into the crook of your neck where he rests his head. you look up to the luggage rack above you, trying to focus on anything but the delicious burning sensation the drag of cregans hardened cock against your vulva has left in your lower belly.

your regained focus is ripped from you almost immediately as cregan slowly pulls down the zipper of the half zip to latch onto your pulsepoint.

a hand quickly shoots to his disheveled hair, grabbing the brown strands tightly. the whimper passing his lips is almost pathetic, his eyes closing tightly at the pull of his hair.

it took all your willpower to actually hold him back by the hair on his nape instead of just crashing your lips on his again, his mouth reddened and shimmering with the remainder of your combined saliva.

cregans eyes meet yours, glossy and pupils blown wide from excitement.

“i think…“ you whisper „i think i need a moment“ at this point your hips have stilled completely, yet cregan still held you tightly by your lower back and arse

“alright sweetheart…“ he pauses for a moment, trying not to focus on the throb coming from both his hair being pulled and your thighs tightly trapping his hips in place underneath them

„i didn‘t push it to far, did i?“

„no, you actually pushed it just right, probably a bit to well…“ you chortle as you loosen the grip on his roots, having calmed your breathing just enough to settle comfortably an cregans lap without feeling the need to restrain his burning touch.

a big smile stretches over his lips at your words and almost immediately, his hands start to wander again. you roll your eyes as he tries to shake your regained composure from you. with a smile on your own lips you lay your hands on top of his.

cregan hesitates for a moment, thinking you‘re asking him to pause his movements again. to his surprise, you do the opposite:

you slowly guide his hands to the slope where your thighs meet your hip, his fingers spreading over your hipbone and his thumbs resting comfortably on your lower stomach, perfectly framing your little pouch beneath your bleach washed jorts.

“i think we can take it a bit further now… only if you want to of course, i don‘t wanna pressure you to do it if you don‘t feel like it!“

you start to ramble again, nervous to ask for such intimacy from someone you met mere hours ago. cregans thumbs slowly start to caress where they can reach, inching closer to the zipper of your pants, wiping any doubt from your mind as your eyes meet once again.

“stop worrying so much“ he tells you, the sweetest tone to his voice „i want this just as much as you do, so please…“ his hands grip your hips tightly as he easily maneuvers you off his lap to sit on the seat next to his „do me a favor and take of your pants.“

he says it so matter-of-factly, you almost feel stupid for not starting to undress on your own accord. worry clouds your mind for a moment as you glance towards the glass door to your compartment, but as if he had read your mind cregan was already on it, closing the blinds and lowering the curtains of the small windows next to the ‚isle-seats‘ facing the hallway of the train.

you quickly loosen the button and pull down the zipper of your pants, wiggling out of the thick fabric and purposefully ignoring the damp stain on the inside of your pants‘ crotch-area as well as the wetness tracing between your thighs.

cregan also takes notice of your newly revealed skin, watching hungrily as you nervously press your knees together. technically, you want nothing more but to get the buff man in front of you between your legs.

practically, you can‘t help but think about how dirty the seats must be and how little contact you want your bare skin to have with the dusty upholstery.

“why don‘t you sit down?“

too embarrassed to admit your squeamishness concerning the hygiene of public textiles, you spew out the next best excuse that comes to mind

“i don‘t wanna leave a stain“

cregan snorts as he watches the deep blush creep up your neck and cheeks, hands clasped tightly in front of you

“don‘t worry about that“ he says as he pulls his shirt over his head to place it over the middle seat for you to sit down on.

as he stretches his arms upwards to free himself from the fabric you can feel the flame in your lower belly rekindle. you knew what to expect from the way his clothes hugged his bulging muscles, yet you didn‘t imagine him to be this beefy. his muscles laid bedded underneath soft fat, yet could still be made out clearly whenever he moved. a trail of coarse dark brown hair spread over his pectorals and down to his navel, the soft happy trail disappearing under the band of his boxers peeking from his shorts.

the sight of him made you salivate a little, trying not to think too intensely about what it might feel like to have his front rut against yours.

as if he was trying to stop your train of thoughts, cregan guided you backwards slowly until you sat down atop his discarded shirt. you could feel the remaining warmth of his body heat through the thin fabric of your slip, the gusset most certainly soaked through with your arousal and leaving a moist print on the fabric.

practically vibrating with excitement you followed his every move with your eyes as he slowly knelt in front of you, his hands reassuringly rubbing up and down your plush thighs to coax them to open up to him.

you did as instructed, slowly spreading your legs only to draw in a sharp breath as he slips between them, his waist nestling neatly between them to keep them spread.

“i want to try something… do you trust me?“ he asks, his breath ghosting over your face, drawing you in to lean closer

„yes“

lips are pressed against each other once again, desperately clinging to another as if kissing was their only purpose.

carefully, your hands start to explore his now naked upper body, enthusiastically roaming his back only to rake down through the thin layer of hair towards his navel, not missing the opportunity to grace over his nipples to cast gooseflesh over his body and draw a breathy moan from him.

the thought of cregan being so sensitive to your touch filled you with excitement, slowly starting to inch your waist closer to the edge of the seat to connect with his pelvis again, your core desperately clenching around nothing.

cregan didn‘t keep you waiting much longer, slowly trailing his lips from yours towards your neck, continuing to suck a dark mark into the same spot he tried to claim not to long ago.

this time, your hands found their way into his hair to try and bring him impossibly closer. the welcome throb of his hair being pulled send thrills down his spine, only spurring him on to let his lips wander and map out the skin of your neck, marking every sensitive spot with a loving bite as well as an apologetic lick over the forming bruise.

you don‘t know how much time passes until he detaches from your neck completely, your mind hazy with the way his touch seemingly has left permanent marks on your skin.

without a doubt, you could still feel his lips trailing your neck, his hands going from massaging your thighs to ghost over the hem of your knickers before finding your chest, his palms perfectly resting on the swell of your tits with an occasional flick of your nipples with his thumbs.

cregans previous touches were all but forgotten when he pressed one last peck to your lips before leaning down between your legs, now resting on his hunches.

he eyed the wet spot between your legs with a soft glimmer in his eyes, now on the same level as your soaking cunt as he was leaning down. his broad shoulders nudged your legs apart even further, his arms circling them from underneath to gain further control as well as softly caressing the outside of her thighs soothingly.

slowly getting the idea of what he wanted to try so desperately, your breath grows quicker.

his eyes found yours again as he started to trail stray kisses along the insides of your thighs, nipping at certain spots just as he did on your neck. you try to clench your legs to chase the friction you try to chase so desperately, but he restrains you from doing so.

his shoulders keep your legs propped open as he finally lowers his head to press his open mouth to your covered vulva. an excited gasp leaves your mouth as his tongue pushes forward to add to the wetness of the fabric stretched over your middle, tasting your arousal through the cotton.

„fuck“ is the only thing you manage to utter as he laps on you over the fabric once again, this time accompanied by a pleased hum.

„can i take them off? please…“ his desperate eyes seek your gaze again, pleading to finally expose yourself fully.

the thought was tempting, but the little voice of reason in the back of your head did not want to shut up. this was already a far more intimate situation than you ever thought yourself capable of, but you couldn‘t seem to fully let go.

you slowly shake your head, worry clouding your mind about how he might react to the rejection. „can i keep them on please?“ you don’t even know why you were asking, it was your decision after all. yet you still felt relieved when he nodded in agreement.

“totally fine by me. is it okay if i keep going?“ he asks with his cheek rested on your thigh, his hands stroking your calves soothingly.

“yeah, please keep going“ you basically repeat after him

it doesn‘t take cregan long to get back into his previous position, his hand coming up between your legs to assist his mouth by you pulling the gusset of your panties to the side before diving back in.

the first contact between his hot tongue and your glistening lips was electrifying. he started of with a broad lick right through the middle, parting your lips with it as well as gathering your sticky wetness on his tongue.

“you taste so fucking good“ he mumbles as he closes his eyes for a second, letting your flavor melt on his tongue before diving back in and tracing his tongue upwards again, slightly gracing your clit before closing his lips around it.

you hold onto the armrest for dear life as he starts suckling on your engorged bud, swiping his tongue over it in a harsh rhythm that soon becomes too much too quickly, forcing you to stretch out your hand, grabbing his hair once again.

“careful!“ you tell him „i‘m- haa… a little sensitive“

as you push his head back a little he mumbles an apology before placing a parting kiss on your clit. cregan lays his tongue flat against your hole, the new sensation making you gasp his name aloud.

picking up on the signals your body gives him, the shiver running up your spine as well as the gooseflesh covering your legs, he starts prodding his wet muscle into you slowly, careful not to overwhelm you.

pushing himself into you with slow, languid moves while the crooked bridge of his nose softly nudges your clit is what really sets you off. you can‘t help but grind your pelvis upwards slowly, matching the slow strokes of his tongue against your inner walls.

your breath shudders with every swipe and press, his hands found their place between your thighs once again as he uses his left to keep your slip out of the way and his right to carefully assist his tongue.

as the knuckle of his pointer finger breaches your hole you yelp loudly, as you were not used to the sensation. you faintly remember asking your ex to perform cunnilingus, only for him to laugh and explain how dirty women were down there (obviously complete bullshit).

cregan didn‘t seem to think you were dirty in any way. his movements got bolder and more intense, chasing after your pleasure just as intensely as you were doing yourself.

an occasional moan , often followed by some slurping sounds, passed his lips as he eagerly swallowed each wave of wetness gushing out of you.

his tongue was soon joined by a second finger, and as cregan kept pressing against your g-spot while slowly scissoring you open your legs came up to press against his ears, locking his head in a shaky hold as your moans grew louder by the second

“you have to keep quiet” he whispered, momentarily parting from your pussy

his fingers kept prodding against the rough spot inside of you while he looked up at you, watching as you nod slowly.

“i’ll try…”

cregan smiles and gives your mound an awarding peck before he dives in again. his tongue laps at your clit once again and you’re back in your throes of pleasure, pressing your thighs together again to keep him there.

he picks up on the hint immediately, matching the strokes of his tongue with the pumping of his fingers.

your eyes roll back as you bring your hand to your mouth, trying to keep yourself from moaning out loud again, reducing your pleas for him to finally have mercy on you to muffled whimpers

the air grew tense with your approaching climax, with cregans tongue drawing continuous whimpers from you.

he must’ve felt you growing more tense by the second and before you could protest again, he went from one broad lick over your clit to sucking it between his lips gently.

it was enough to finally push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard as you felt the familiar warmth rushing down your spine, pulsating between your legs. you kept your legs closed tightly around his head, fingers trembling in his hair as you spurred him on to keep sucking, your pelvis grinding against his face roughly in order to ride out your orgasm as best as you could.

cregan complied gladly, keeping his lips closed around your bud as well as his fingers pressed to your g-spot. he was breathless, with his nose pressed tightly into your mound and his mouth still occupied.

he enjoyed himself, the noises of the occuring thunderstorm being muffled by your luscious thighs and your juices coating his palm, slowly trailing down his arm.

the constant pressure slowly became to much for you to handle and your hips stilled, your hand pushing cregans head back from where he was still latched to your core.

the moment your eyes met, you couldn’t help but smile at his flushed state.

cregans stubble was sticky with your arousal, his lips swollen and puckered as he breathed heavily.

“was it good?” he asked teasingly, his cheeks bright red from the heat.

“the best” you reply, still a little breathless. “you did so good baby” you tell him, his shoulders tensing at the praise while a soft hand brushes back his hair.

“keep calling me that…” cregan says as he slowly pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean as he raises to sit next to you once again.

you weren’t sure whether it was the slight buzz from the red wine, or the pleading look in his eyes that encouraged you to straddle his lap again, but you did so swiftly.

your lips crashed against his instantly, giving you a taste of your own arrousal as his tongue immediately found yours.

without a second thought you brushed over his prominent bulge with your knuckles, earning yourself a whimper from the brunette.

“can i touch you baby?” you whisper against his lips, your fingers teasingly slipping under the waistband of his shorts

“hmm… fuck, yes…” cregan answers breathless, your hands immediately fussing with his pants to pull them down enough to finally get your hands on him.

the desperation in his voice only spurred you on as he was pleading for you to touch him, whimpering loudly as you freed him from his confines and took him in your hand carefully. “please…” he croaked as your cool fingers sent electrifying shocks down his length, but you were too occupied with the sight between the two of you to decipher what he wanted, needed.

as expect from a guy his size, he was big. not neccesarily the longest, but definitely girthier than you were used to with a beautiful pink tint to the weeping tip.

dreamily, you brush a thump over his slit, smearing the precum he already leaked and earning another low moan from cregan.

you started to stroke him, the soft skin moving under your fingertips as you mindlessly wondered how beautiful his color would look on your lips, glossed up with makeup in the same way his tip glimmered with cum

“so pretty…” you whispered as he throbbed in your palm, urging you to speed up your movements while adding a little flick of the wrist to it.

as his moans grew louder you shut him up with a kiss, lips and tongues sloppily crashing together as cregan started to thrust into your fist, your hand barely able to close around his dick.

he was gripping your hips tightly, pulling you closer again until he could feel the bottom of his tip pressing against your mound, a beautiful hot sensation of thrusting up into your closed palm while grinding against your pubic bone, his moans resonating in your throat as he kept your lips on his by the back of the neck.

despite his efforts you pulled away slightly while keeping your ministrations on his dick up.

“do you wanna cum baby?” you ask softly, his eyes never leaving yours as you could feel him throb again, precum trailing down your fingers with how much he was leaking

“yes, please..!” he urged you on, his hands gripping your sides as he pressed another messy kiss to your lips “can i come in your mouth? please sweetheart, please put your mouth on me”

you couldn’t help but coo at his begs, adding some speed to the movement over his length.

his pleas were answered by actions, not words as you pressed a parting kiss to the corner of his mouth before you climbed off his lap, his hips straining from his efforts to hold back his thrusts into your fist.

your chest tightens as you look up at him, his cheeks are flushed red with his chest raising and falling rapidly.

you give him a few more strokes until he looks ready to cum, his skin tensing beneath your touch and his moans of your name growing louder with each stroke.

“look at me baby” you tell him, and his eyes find yours in an instant.

slowly sticking out your tongue, you press it to his throbbing tip accompanied by a delighted moan as the taste of him spreads over yout tastebuds.

his face contorts with pleasure as you carefully wrap your lips around his dick, gliding down until your lips meet your hand.

your mouth stretches over his girth and it takes a few attempts for you to comfortably start bobbing your head, the prominent vein running down his underside pulsating against the press of your tongue.

his hands find your head and reluctantly prepare to get your face pushed further into his lap. instead you find yourself delighted by the gentle caress of cregans fingers on your temple, his knuckles brushing some loose strands from your forehead before he runs his fingers through your hair.

as you look up at him through your lashes, sight slightly hazy with the remaining tears of your orgasm, you find him staring at you.

the intensity of his gaze as well as the comforting weight of his palm resting reassuringly in your hair elicits a low moan from you.

cregans eyes widen with surprise as you moan around his cock, the low vibrations in combination with your tongue gliding over his tip once again send familiar shocks through his lower abdomen, he feels his lower back tingling as he realizes his release is approaching rather rapidly.

„hold on-“ he tries to warn you, but with the way you hollow your cheeks and make an effort to swallow his dick completely, there is no way he can manage to form a coherent sentence.

you feel your pussy clenching with excitement at the sound of cregans pathetic moans, a new wave of arousal slowly dripping down between your thighs as you close your eyes again. concentrating on not gagging, you give it your best to take all of him in, imagining the way he would feel inside your cunt as his tip hits the back of your throat at the same time your nose burrows itself in his stomach.

his happy trail tickles your nose as you swallow him down completely with a delighted moan, cregans grip in your hair tightening slightly as he closes his eyes with a loud moan.

his orgasm crashes down on him and without a chance of holding back he softly grinds upwards into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat. your hands hold onto his thighs tightly as you meet his shallow thrusts with the bop of your head, eyes closed with concentration as you try to drag this out for him as much as you can.

it doesn’t take long for him to slowly guide your face away from his dick, his chest rising and falling quickly with heavy breaths.

“guess you really wanted to return that favor, huh?“ he teases as your eyes meet once again, your chin glistening with the remains of your spit and the bit of cum you didn‘t manage to swallow.

„i did…“ you whisper quietly, voice hoarse from the strain on your throat „did you like that baby? did you like eating me out so much for you to cum this quickly?“ you tease as you slowly get up again, pushing yourself up by holding onto his thighs to stand in front of him.

the blush on his face darkens as you use that nickname again, seemingly having a rather intense effect on him

„thank you“ he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs. you step closer to cregan, your knees pressing against the seat between his legs as you brush his hair out of his sweaty forehead.

you as you look down on him, your eyes scanning over his still-sticky face, his big eyes glistening with remaining tears of pleasure, his chest still darkened by a deep blush, the weight of reality starts to set in with you.

did you really just do that, get down on you knees in front of a stranger after he ate you out like a man starved?

but he wasn’t really a stranger to you, was he? after how much you talked, laughed and played around together?

cregan seemed to notice the panic settling into your stomach, his eyebrows drawing together with worry as your eyes dart around the compartment.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” his hands reassuringly rub the sides of your legs, trying to calm you down as he tries to meet your gaze

“i’m just…” you bite your tongue as you think about it for a second “i think i’m just a bit overwhelmed is all… we just did this in public, and without protection-”

“i’m clean if thats what you’re worried about”

“it’s not, but thanks for letting me know”

cregan looks a bit helpless as you keep brushing your fingers through his hair to calm your nerves.

“i’m not the type to do something like this out of the blue, which probably sounds super cheesy but i’ve truly never done something like this, and i never thought i would do it with some stranger on the train”

nodding slowly as he tries to follow your train of thoughts, cregan leans to the side to kiss your wrist without breaking eye contact

“do you regret it? i didn’t want to pressure you, i swear! i just thought that we got along so well and then we made out-” you stop him by pressing a kiss to his hairline

“i never said i regretted it, it was great!” a smile stretches across your face “i’m just a bit surprised by this whole situation, thats all. i really enjoyed this…”

“i’m glad to hear it” he sighs as he leans back in his seat, tucking himself in and closing his pants before reaching his hand out

“now- why don’t you get dressed and come sit down again? i think we’ve still got some wine left, and you still need to finish that story about your theater play in highschool” you smile brightly at cregans words as you gather your pants and the one shoe that came loose throughout your snogging session and put them back on while he stuffs the soiled shirt from the seat into his backpack to exchange it with a clean one.

you’re glued to his side immediately as he sits back down, one leg thrown over his and your arms hugging his tightly.

cregan laughs at the sight of you, slowly caressing your leg while you rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes.

the evening goes by faster than you had anticipated, but with your laughter filling the compartment, neither of you realized how quickly time flew by.

you were in the middle of another make out break, cregan slotted between your legs as you tussle his hair some more, when the train suddenly recoiled. his head shot up immediately, trying to see anything out the window despite the darkness limiting his sight.

as the train suddenly jerked forward and started taking up tempo, you realized that the rain had stopped. the sky outside the window was as clear as ever and with a heavy sigh, your eyes met cregans.

“you’re getting off at the next stop?”

“yes…”

“oh… you should get ready then, it can’t be that long until we’re there” you mumble, trying to force a smile as you push yourself up and cregan out of your lap.

the realization hits you that this whole afternoon, the idea of you two being so intimate with each other and possibly forming more than a physical bond was over now.

cregan raises from his seat reluctantly, avoiding your gaze as his bubble was burst well.

“i think i’ll go to the bathroom, be back in a second…” he sort of tells himself before leaving you behind in the compartment.

it feels cold to be left behind like this, even though he hasn’t even gotten off the train yet. as cregan returns to you you start taking of his woolen hoodie, only to be stopped by his hands resting on your shoulders.

“keep it. please.”

he looks down on you sternly and before you can protest, an announcement over the speakers tells you that the next stop is coming up.

you tear up immediately and press yourself face first into cregans chest, hugging him tightly around the waist while his arms wrap around your shoulders.

“thank you for today” you say, muffled by his pectorals.

“no, thank you sweetheart. i had the best time with you today.” he whispers into your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead, the train slowly coming to a halt.

“i guess i’ll see you around?” cregan asks hopefully.

“maybe… goodbye cregan.”

“goodbye…” as the train fully stops you sway lightly in his embrace.

you let him go without hesitation and step aside so he can take his backpack, with one last look over his shoulder he waves at you before squeezing out the department and towards the exit of the train.

you close your eyes for a second taking a deep breath while trying to calm yourself down.

this is so stupid you think to yourself as you gaze around the empty department, until a flash of color catches your eye:

cregan hat forgotten his UNO deck.

in a second, you scurry to find a pen and hastily scribble something on the cardboard box.

you can hear the doors opening and before you know it, you push open the window and lean out on the platform, scanning the crowd for the tall man.

“CREGAN!” you yell out as you spot him, cigarette and lighter in hand, his nose and eyes suspiciously red.

he scans the platform for a second before he strides towards you quickly, the doors already closing after the waiting passengers boarded the train.

before he can catch his breath or ask any questions, wasting the little time you had left, you pull him towards you by the neck and press a quick peck to his lips.

the two of you part with a smack as the train picks up speed and you toss over the little red pack of cards, which he catches against his chest.

you simply grin at him as his confused figure gets smaller and smaller in the distance, slowly backing away into the confines of the train, smilling as you let yourself fall into your seat.

cregan stands at the platform, looking after the train as it passes by and slowly disappears into the night.

confusion is clear on his face as he looks down on the little cardboard box in his hand, turning it in his palm.

“fucking hell…” he laughs out as he stuffs it into his backpack, finally lighting up his cigarette as he makes his way towards the exit of the platform, smiling ear to ear at the message you messily scribbled down.

call for a rematch :) xxx-xxxx-xxxx

will there be a rematch one day? who knows. but i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did while writing it.

love ya

[kaitsawamura]

-> somebody come get her (she's dancing like a stripper)

-> SUMMARY

You have bills to pay. That's the only thing on your mind when you go in for your shift at the strip club. The only thing on your mind until you see Daichi.

Daichi doesn't expect to find you, the girl of his dreams, at the strip club. In fact, he's 99% certain he shouldn't be here. But now he can't stop thinking of all the things he'd let you do to him.

Will your mutual attraction pay off for the both of you?

-> STATS

Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Stripper!Reader (get that bread!)

Rating: M for Mature, MDNI

Warnings: My take on a corruption kink except Daichi's the one getting corrupted

Tags: Corruption, strangers to lovers, smut I tell you, filthy filthy smut with my husband, strip club au, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, a bit of choking (like a tiny bit), hair pulling, nasty nasty f*cking with my husband, sex in public (sorta, it's in a public restroom), a little dominant confident Reader (if I missed anything y'all can let me know in the DM's)

Word Count: 6.3K

Author's Note: I knew the moment I saw Mint's post . : HERE : . that I had to write something about it. They obligingly gave me the go ahead to be inspired so off I went a-writing. Obviously, this might be considered mild corruption by some but to me? This was like I went into a blackout and woke up not knowing what year it was. So, here you go, enjoy some nasty filthy smut with my love!

-> LINKS

Main Masterlist

HQ Masterlist

Playlist

Moodboard

“Rent’s due on Monday,” your roommate reminds you, concern masked with sympathy clear on her face. She’s not trying to be mean or overbearing but damn it, the stress of the situation makes you want to snark back. But you don’t.

“Do you have your half?” She nods. You nod back decisively. “I’m working tonight. Fridays are good days to work. It’s my first one without shadowing anyone. I’ll have the rest of my half in tips, don’t worry.” Her face brightens as she pours herself a glass of orange juice, sunlight streaming in the kitchen window of the tiny two-bedroom apartment you share with her.

“Thank god. The landlord’s being an ass again. We’ve been late one time. I have half a mind to give him a list of all the things wrong in this shithole instead of the check.” You roll your eyes conspiratorially but in reality, you don’t know if you’ll make your half in tips or not. Maybe your boss will give you an advance. You’ll talk to him tonight. He was surprisingly reasonable so the odds were at least in your favor.

Either way, you’ll get the money. You just hope you’ll be able to put the nervous energy thrumming through your veins to good use.

Daichi Sawamura should not have come here tonight. The guys in the office had convinced him, said there was a new pretty girl who was exactly his type. But this place was not the sort he was used to coming to. It wasn’t that this establishment was a bad one or that he had any problem with it; people had to make money how they could. Empowerment and autonomy and all that. It was more that he felt a little inadequate if he was being completely honest with himself. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone from here. He was used to good girls, the ones who had a routine and didn’t like anything too kinky. Which was also fine. But there were things he wanted to try, had a suspicion he would like that he just couldn’t ask of anyone he’d been with. He scrubbed a hand over his face, realizing the conversation he was having completely in his head was stressing him out.

“Dai, bro, just relax. She’s pretty. You better tip her good but you don’t have to talk to anyone but me and the bartender if you don’t want to. Just enjoy the show.” Kuroo smirks at his friend; it has been a long week. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to wind down. Part of him just wishes he was doing it in the comfort of his home, with his favorite ramen from around the corner and a good movie. But who knows, maybe he’s getting complacent.

So he sits in the seat Kuroo has pulled out for him, a front-row spot directly in the middle of the runway. Right in front of the center pole. The seats are comfortable and he’s got a whiskey neat in his hands. He can feel a little of the stress release from the muscles in his traps, can feel his jaw unclench just in the slightest as the first warm sip of whiskey flows down his throat.

This is fine, he reassures himself, pushing work from his brain. Kuroo takes a sip from his own drink, a fruity one that he insists is the most delicious ever but is just a little too sweet for Daichi. The place is in a lull right now, preparing for the next act. But soon there’s a growing murmur from the back. Someone whistles, and a few others catcall. Daichi bristles just a bit, but he can’t even see anything until you hit the steps and it’s then that Kuroo elbows him.

“That’s her,” he says, raising his voice so Daichi can hear over the now thrumming bass. He feels it in his toes, in his chest, in his head. But your steps, the bounce of your tits in a skimpy bright blue bikini top, he feels in his dick. It barely covers anything, just like the matching bottoms. Cute little bows keep them on your hips and your heels are a deep black. As you get closer, your walk slow and sensuous, he can see the peep toe and your fresh French manicure poking through. He tries to adjust his navy suit pants with little success. He’s in so much fucking trouble.

You strut up the steps, the blinking LED strips embedded into the floor blinking in rhythm with the bass and the rhythm of your hips. You put a little bit of extra attitude into the sway tonight, praying to any higher power that will listen that tonight will be a good one for tips, even though it’s your first show without any supporting performers. Part of you gets it; you’re new. The owner has to make sure you know how to use those doe eyes and amazing tits properly. The other part of you, the one that knows you’re hot and knows exactly what you’re doing, wanted to smirk a little when your boss had said you wouldn’t get a Friday on your own until you’d completed two weeks of bartending and shadowing.

Your hard work has paid off though, and when you take your place at the center of the runway, you know you have your audience hooked even before dancing. There’s one guy in particular, right below you. He got arguably the best seat in the house along with his friend. You’ve seen the friend before, all confidence, slicked-back black hair, and a steamy attractive smile. Your coworkers say he’s pretty regular and always tips well. Thank god. The one next to him though, you don’t know anything about him except for the fact that the five stages of something flow across his face as you make eye contact with him. The low lighting does nothing to hide the blush flushing from the open neck of his crisp white button up to his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. He’s got a wad of cash already set casually on the bar top in front of him.

You smile, bright and unguarded, knowing. You’ll have the rest of Monday’s rent if he’s an indication of the rest of the customers that will be coming in tonight. He turns away, uncomfortable. Aw, how sweet. So unlike some of the slimy patrons you’re used to. Something you don’t like trips low in your belly. The biggest rule was no sex with any of the customers. It was in place for a reason and a majority of the time was a good one. You remind yourself of it as the song for your first dance starts playing over the speakers.

Buss it, buss it, buss it, buss it

Is you fuckin’? Two shots, fuck it

You take a deep breath, hands on the shiny silver pole, and wrap one leg around it. The metal is cold to the touch but something else has goosebumps crawling up your bare skin. When you spin, turning in the new guy’s direction, your suspicions are confirmed that the feeling is not the rest of the eyes on you but his. And his are suddenly, somehow, the only eyes you want to perform for. So you do.

Daichi can feel Kuroo snap to attention next to him; he can’t blame him. You’re stunning and you know it. You look like maybe you shouldn’t know how to do this so well, but none of that matters as all coherent thoughts leave Daichi’s head when you spin and drop, rolling your hips so your ass faces him. You turn and look at him as you rise slowly, a deliciously naughty smile still all over that pretty little mouth. He rushes to take a sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the bartop, runs them through his hair, anything to occupy his hands. Because he knows the only place they really should be is all over you. Oh, the things he would let you do to him. He’d do anything for you. He takes another gulp of whiskey, disappointed when he drains the heavy glass.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. He knew you were making eye contact with him but when you get on all fours and crawl to him like some lethal jungle cat, the end of the song nearing, he knows he’s in for it. And he’s okay with that. Any doubts he had, about being here at least, have vanished completely. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but he leans forward to meet you where you are at the edge of the stage. The crowd is roaring around him, the cheers only growing louder at the chemistry shooting like electricity through the air between the two of you. They’re jealous cheers he thinks, although he’s sure as hell not looking away long enough to check anyone’s expressions to confirm.

“Got anything good for me, pretty boy?” Your voice is pitched low as you blink big eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. Because, goddammit, he is pretty. Prettier than any other patrons you’d ever catered to. You would not mind if he came to be one of your regulars, regardless of any funds that might be exchanged. You would not mind if he came regularly—in your cunt, on your ass, on your tongue… A girl could take her pick with a man like him. Thick dark hair, glittering brown eyes, full lips. A barrel chest and wide shoulders to boot. No sex with the customers, no sex with the customers, no sex with the customers…

You watch, heat pooling low in your belly, as he unbinds the cash you had noticed earlier. You can’t quite figure him out. Because he’s making eye contact with you as he spreads the folded bills, licks his thumb, and pulls out two crisp Benjamins but there is a nervous tremor in his large hands as he passes the bills to you. Your eyes widen, the act dropping momentarily before you catch yourself and push out your bottom lip in a pout.

“Hm, a girl should get a little more than that for such a good performance, don’t you think?” You are completely used to this, the schpeel. You’ve done it thousands of times at the last place you worked and hundreds more at this club. It’s part of the persona within these walls. Mystery man is apparently not used to acting this way. You can see the war within him as you take the bills and he leans back, trying to be casual but every line of him is taught like a rubber band about to break.

“You here all night?” Don’t give anyone your schedule. If they like you enough, they’ll figure it out on their own by being a regular paying customer. You nod, liking this new game. Toeing around something you would normally consider dangerous, if only for all the variables far out of your control. But that makes it all the more fun, especially when he clicks his tongue behind his teeth and replies “Good, then so am I. I have more where that came from. Do you?”

Kuroo is watching the interaction with a gaping mouth. Daichi doesn’t have a clue where this new side of him is coming from. Except. Except he does. And it feels damn good. Despite being sure it is glaringly obvious that he is leaping so far out of his comfort zone, you seem to be very receptive. He shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of staying all night. He could use some sleep. But he could also use that mouth around his cock. You probably have rules, rules that should be followed, for your safety. Daichi knows he’s safe, but you don’t. He most definitely should not ask for your number or give you his or ask what time you’re off. You shouldn’t answer him.

But you do, nodding earnestly when he asks if you’ll be here all night. He has no choice. There’s something about you that he can’t shake off. The extra cash is of no consequence to him, and maybe, just maybe… No, he won’t let that thought go further. He won’t imagine how you’d look on your knees, or bouncing on his cock. He won’t imagine you writhing beneath him or securing him to his headboard with those cuffs he’d bought but never gotten to use. He won’t imagine you breathily calling him pretty boy again even though, fuck, he wishes you would so, so bad.

“What’s your name,” you ask before you can stop yourself, before you rise to your feet. The rules here are good ones, meant to keep both the patrons and performers safe.  You’d worked at other establishments before that didn’t care so much about safety so much as they cared about money.  Your radar has never been off in the past and maybe that shouldn’t be enough for you but everything about Mystery Man makes you want to break every rule ever set before you.  There’s something about him that makes you want to risk it all.  You want to hear him whimper and you’d place bets that you could get him to do it in record time.  Even now, his breathing is shallow and he seems unable to answer you.  His friend leans over, elbowing him into action.

“His name’s Daichi.  And mine’s Kuroo.  Ya know, in case you wanted to know.”  His smile is genuine, not creepy at all.  You return the grin as you stand before turning back to Daichi.  He straightens a little, snapped back to reality by his friend.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say to Kuroo.  He is attractive, just not who you have your eyes set on.  But it’s good information to pass along to your coworkers.  Judging by his tailored suit that fits just as good as Daichi’s, you’d wager his job pays like his friend’s.  The music swells again, the DJ cueing to your next song.  “Kuroo, make sure your friend doesn’t go anywhere.  Tonight’s for him.”  Kuroo scoffs in friendly disbelief at Daichi’s luck.

“I’m hauling you to the club more often,” he says to Daichi, who flashes a quick small smile.  Oh god, that smile could bring anyone you know to their knees.  It could certainly do it to you.  That smile alone could get you to do anything Daichi would ask.  You point at Kuroo as you take your place at the center pole again.

“I’m holding you to that, Kuroo.”  You brace your hands one over the other on the pole, and shake your ass for all it’s worth.

Body crazy, curvy, wavy, big titties, little waist.

Daichi’s going to have a stroke, he just knows it.  He can feel the veins in his forehead and neck bulging.  The blood has flowed elsewhere too.  His cock is so hard it feels painful.  There are several different ways he could get relief, most of which he should not be considering seeking in a public area.  But it’s unbearable and there’s no way he’s going to let himself come in front of all these other people.  He waits for the end of your current number and then he’s standing so fast his chair screeches out behind him; a couple of people look his way but for the most part, you’ve got everyone’s attention.  Kuroo glances sideways at his friend; he doesn’t say anything, just smirks as Daichi tosses another hundred on the bar top, telling Kuroo to give it to you before rushing to the bathroom.

He makes his way down the hall and notices there are several doors marked RESTROOM in bold capital letters.  Thank god there are single-person stalls.  He stumbles into one, shutting the door and locking it with shaking hands.  The music is still audible, even here; it seems to have dropped to a low steady hum.  Intermission.  Perfect.  Daichi turns to the sink and splashes cold water on his face, one last attempt to snap himself out of this fucking trance.  Because that’s what this has to be.  He’s getting all hot and bothered over someone who he doesn’t even know.  And god, he wants to think that you like him but he knows he’s tipping good and he’s not one of those creeps that can’t recognize it’s your fucking job.

The image in the mirror is one that almost shocks him; his eyes are glazed, and his hair’s a mess.  Just once, he just needs to come once and then he can stay here until the end of the night like he said he would.  He’ll tip you like a good customer would.  Then he’ll leave and he’ll never come back.  Because this?  This is Daichi out of control and he’s not sure that’s a good thing.  Maybe he should go back to making love to nice girls in his king-sized bed.  Yes, that’s what he’ll do.  He’ll leave here and he won’t come back and he’ll never think of you again.

Daichi unbuckles his belt, the metal of the buckle clanking as he yanks his zipper down.  He lets out a pained breath, his cock straining against his underwear.  He slips his hand into the elastic band, taking it into his hand and bringing it out into the air.  He backs up to the wall, the cool air offering little comfort for the engorged head, and closes his fist around himself.  A breath comes fast and heavy out of his mouth as he starts jacking himself off slowly, trying to make the moment last.

You watch as Daichi stands abruptly, so quickly and sharply that he almost topples his chair over.  You watch as he tosses another bill on the bar top, leaning in to say something to Kuroo.  You watch as he throws one last glance your way before beelining to the bathrooms.  Idiot.  Absolute idiot is what you are because you’re making your way off the runway, ignoring the audience as a low boo goes through the crowd.  Your boss catches your eye from the end of the bar and waves you over.

“What the hell is going on?”  It’s not said unkindly but more with an air of annoyance.  This is your first Friday night on your own and you might be blowing it.  But you don’t care.  You put on a fake wince and point at your head, trying to look as contrite and imploring as possible.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s my first Friday and I’m so grateful.  But I’ve really gotta pee and I’ve got this horrible headache starting.  Can I take ten?  Just ten minutes, enough time for an ibuprofen to set in while I go to the bathroom, and then I’ll be back out.  Please.”  You put those big eyes back to use, blinking slow and tilting your head slightly like you’re trying to relieve the pain of your fake headache.  Your boss squints his eyes but doesn’t protest as he pulls a bottle of Advil from behind the bar.  He hands you a couple with a glass of water.

“Ten minutes.  Go to the bathroom.  Take a breather.  Then get your ass back out there.  I’ve seen the business you’re encouraging after two sets.  You’ll be back up there as one of my main performers if you keep up the good work.”  You smile as you throw the pills back with the water and hurry in the direction of the restroom, pulling on one of the extra robes from the bar.  Now to find Daichi.

A couple is making out in the hallway; you brush past them and knock quietly on the first door.  A voice answers quickly that the stall is occupied but it’s not Daichi’s voice.  You knock on two more doors before getting to the last one.  You suppose he could have gone into the multi-stall restroom but you’d seen the look on his face when he’d stood and you’d bet all the cash he’d given you so far that he wasn’t coming back here to take a piss.  You rap your knuckles on the last single-person stall.  You’re rewarded with his voice coming from the other side.

“There’s someone-ha-there’s someone in here!”  He can barely get the words out; you know what’s going on in that stall and you want to help.  You rub your thighs together, realizing you’re already getting wet.

“Daichi, it’s me.”  This is stupid.  Maybe he doesn’t even like you that much.  Maybe you’re just some stripper at a strip club.  There’s a heavy silence now, almost solid enough that you could cut it with a knife.  Another pause and you’re getting ready to leave, cursing your confidence for all that it’s getting you, but then you hear the click of the door unlocking.  He opens it but only just so.  Still, it’s an invitation and one you are eager to accept.  You open the door just wide enough to slip through to shield yourself from any potential wandering eyes in the hall.  The scene inside the stall nearly wrecks you.

Daichi has backed up against the wall, as far away from you as humanly possible.  It’s so obvious that he’s been jacking himself off. His hair is messy, his eyes wild like he was already on the brink. He’s desperately trying to cover his cock with his hands and even though they’re large, they can’t cover it completely. You meet his gaze, which he tries to avoid, his eyes fluttering left then right with shame, before finally settling on you. Something trips across your skin.

“Babe, let me help you with that,” you whisper as you direct your line of sight to his cock. It twitches as you move closer, slowly, as if you’re approaching a cornered animal. Daichi groans a little when you reach him, one hand steadying on his shoulder and the other reaching up to touch his face.

“This is—this is not what it looks like, I swear. I promise I’m not some creep, I just—” You put a single finger softly to his lips, making sure he’s got his eyes on you. They widen just a bit. In the brighter light of the bathroom, you can see how rich the color of his irises are, golden brown like sunlight streaming through an autumn wood, or espresso, or something corny like that. Fuck the rules.

“Daichi, can I kiss you?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. His mouth drops open but his eyes rove from yours down to your lips, then your covered chest, and back up. Finally, he nods so you guide his face down to yours and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and pliable. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, so unlike the image he’d put out walking in this place with his fine, tailored suit and stack of cash. Your hand slips from his shoulder and moves down the ridge of his pectoral, then lower still to the hard planes of his stomach. You trail your fingers over the now wrinkled fabric, close to his undone belt and open pants. His cock jumps against your abdomen past his hands and he gasps. “Is this okay?” You ask the question, certain that Daichi just needs the chance to give in. He nods again so you smooth your hand lower until it wraps around his cock.

Daichi’s head thunks against the wall of the bathroom as another sharp breath explodes from his open mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he growls quietly. You move your hand experimentally, softly, swiping your thumb across the head, gathering the bit of precome at the tip and smearing it about. You can’t decide what you want to look at more: the red bleeding over Daichi’s skin from the neck up, his heaving chest, or how his cock looks in your hands. He’s so… responsive. Each turn of your wrist has him shuddering beneath you. More. You need more. You want to see him beg. And part of you also realizes that he needs this too. You drop to your knees and his eyes snap back open as he watches you. “What’re you doing?”

“Only what you want me to do, Daichi. Unless you don’t want me to?” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s shaking his head. He wraps his hand around yours, enveloping it, and moves it once, twice, over himself. A thought occurs to you, one you’re denying even as you ask him “Daichi, have you ever come down anyone’s throat?” The answer is obvious but you still feel incredulous as he tells you no. The veins in his hands are bulging and he’s still, like the calm before the storm. You lean in, maintaining eye contact, as you blow a breath over his cock. “Do you want to?”

It’s like you flipped a switch. Daichi, slowly now so you have time to pull away if you want to, curls his fingers in your hair, stroking them along your scalp. “Yes, please.” He whispers it, certain this is a dream. This has to be a fucking dream. He’s had a blow job before but never has he ever asked to come in someone’s mouth. He’s a clean guy but he’s not clueless; he just assumed most people thought it was gross and never had a problem with the fact that no one wanted to do that. At least not anyone he had been with. But, oh, he’d thought about it, lots of times. Most of those times in one night.

His pupils are blown wide as you lick your lips and take just the tip, swirling your tongue over the head. His skin is smooth, molten hot. The way your eyes never leave his is something else entirely and when you hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat to take all of him, he thinks he might die. He’s trying to maintain some semblance of control but it is already dwindling to nothing. There’s a coil building in his abdomen. Not yet he thinks viciously. Not yet. You take a few more pulls before releasing him with a pop. Frantic, he feels frantic. Maybe you decided you didn’t want to do this and he’d have to be okay with that, he couldn’t blame you but god damn—

“Daichi, eyes on me.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobs as he locks in on you again. “Let go, babe. Show me how you want it. Pull my hair. Set the pace. And when you’re gonna come, you come down my throat. Nowhere else, you got it? I’ve got five more minutes. Think we can get you there, pretty boy?” He nearly blacks out when you say those words he needed to hear again. Oh, yes, yes he’s sure you can. His eyes search yours once more before fisting his hand in your hair, tightening experimentally. You smile around his cock, deep-throating him once more, but waiting expectantly. He’s not going to come back from this. You’ve ruined anyone else for him. And he’s accepted his fate.

The moment he lets go, the moment he breaks down whatever wall is holding him in place, you can sense it. You place your hands on his thighs as he pulls you nearly all the way off before shoving you back down. Your eyes water just a bit but you feel the slick gather between your thighs. Yes, the girl inside of you that wants to see him to the end hisses. He sets the pace, a strong and quick one, but somehow still gentle. If you said you needed to stop now, you somehow know he’d do so immediately. He twists a little more, angling your head just how he wants it. You set your teeth down ever so lightly just to see….

Daichi whimpers and gasps, the sound nearly a sob on his lips. You swirl your tongue again and suck. “Ha—shit. Just. Just like that,” he grits out as he grips tighter. It hurts a little, your hair and your knees, but the pain swirls with the pleasure in a delicious slide of skin against skin. Your nails dig into his thighs again before he takes one of your hands and closes it around the base of his cock. You grip, working your wrist along with your mouth. He bucks against you, a jerky movement. “I’m close, fuckfuckfuck I’m close. I’m gonna come.” His voice lies somewhere between a bark and a whine. He can’t decide if he wants you closer, or farther, to stop or keep going. His brain is short-circuiting. He tries to pull back just a little bit, but you won’t let him in the best way possible.

You quirk your wrist and tilt your head in just a certain way… Daichi cries out, long and broken, as he curls in over you, his orgasm washing over him in waves so intense his vision goes black. His entire body shudders with his release, his form towering over you as he spurts ropes of come all the way down your throat. You milk him for all he’s worth. Not a single drop is getting away from you, no way in hell. Next time, you want him to come in your pussy. Next time? God, you want there to be a next time. He’s still leaning over you when his breathing slows and steadies; his hands are bracing themselves on your back rubbing soothing circles there with his thumbs. He helps you to your legs and steadies you for a moment.

The silence stretches on as you look at each other, both a little shocked at what just conspired. Daichi slowly puts himself back into his pants and you help him buckle his belt. You’re both on the verge of saying something either extremely brave or extremely stupid with each moment that passes. You’re about to make the first move again when he reaches up and takes your jaw in his hand, running a thumb along the corner of your mouth to gently push the last of his spend into your mouth. You lean into the touch and welcome his finger, sucking it clean just like his dick. He thinks he might be in love with you.

A breathless giggle comes out of you as you back away just a fraction, trying to give yourself space from the startling sensation fluttering in your stomach like butterflies. Your boss is gonna kick your ass if you don’t get back out on the floor. “I would invite you to my place to continue this after I’m off but it’s a little crowded and the walls are thin,” you say, hoping against hope that he wants more just as much as you do. There’s no room for doubt when he leans in and kisses you, deep and slow, tasting himself in your mouth.

“That’s no problem, princess. If you’re still feeling this when you’re off, I’ve got a penthouse all to myself.” Oh, there it is—the swagger you expected him to have. Your eyes glitter as you smooth out your hair, knowing it still looks good enough to perform. If anything, the smell of sex and the appearance of your swollen lips will get you better money, as long as your boss doesn’t catch on. You don’t think he will. “I’ll find you at the end of the night.” You nod, suddenly the bashful one.

Somehow, everything that just transpired did so all in your ten-minute break. In fact, you have one minute to spare as you strut back to the runway, giving your boss a wink and blowing a kiss to the stupefied audience.

“Harder, Daichi, harder.” You can barely get the words out as he thrusts inside of your aching cunt. Your face is pushed into the pillows on Daichi’s king-sized bed, your ass in the air. The sound of skin slapping on skin in the quiet of his room is pornographic but you can’t waste any thoughts on being even remotely embarrassed. Tears stream down your face as he continually hits that spot inside of you that you’ve only been able to hit with a dildo and even then it never came close to this. Daichi’s a machine, the way he keeps going. After you sucked him off and he came so quickly earlier in the night, he was determined to make this one last longer. One of his hands is gripping tightly into the plush of where your hip meets your ass cheek, the other is splayed over your back, even now caressing the skin, alighting it with goosebumps. “Oh, fuuuuuck,” you whine as that same hand snakes around to your neck to pull you up.

His fingers and palm ghost over the skin as he thrusts up into you and it’s all you can do to hold to his thighs for dear life, your nails digging in so hard you’ll know they’ll leave a mark. “Are you close, princess?” He whispers it labored into your ear, his breath hot, his mouth even hotter as he leans in to nip at your pulse point from behind. You nod frantically, almost unable to answer. “Can I come inside, baby? Will you let me? Will you let me be a good boy for you?” His hand moves from your throat to your clit, stroking one slow circle over the oversensitive nub. Thank god for birth control.

“Yes, Daichi, yes, come in my pussy. Oh, god, yes be a good boy for me.” You squeal as he thrusts hard, once, twice, swiping his fingers over your clit again in a more concentrated pattern and you feel your first orgasm of the night sweep over you as Daichi finds his own release with a mangled, animalistic groan.  You think he’s done, especially when he pulls out leaving you feeling way too empty.  But you’re wrong, so, so wrong.  He proceeds to flip you over and push back in, a ring of white forming around where he’s begun thrusting inside of you again.  

“I thought about this all fucking night.”  He surges up over you, grabbing your wrists and pulling them above you.  “I thought about that pretty little cunt around my cock.  I thought about how pretty you’d look laying in my bed.”  One thrust, slow and teasing.  You roll your hips up to meet him, even though your thighs are weak and shaking.  “I’ve never–I’ve never fucked anyone like this before, it’s,” he leans in to suck on your pulse again, runs his tongue over the salty skin there, “magical.”  You whimper beneath him when you feel the familiar coil tightening once more in your belly.  

“Do you think I can make you come again, Daichi?  Can you come for me one more time?”  He groans, sealing his lips over yours as he releases your hands so that can pull him closer into you.  You scrape your nails from the nape of his neck into his hair, and grip, breathless, as his rhythm becomes choppy again.  God, you don’t know how he’s still going.  The two of you are so frenzied, the blood in your veins hotter than a blue flame.  “Look at me when you come, baby, look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hands to his cheeks.  His eyes are glazed, his face strained but still beautiful.  “I’m going to touch myself now, okay?”  His mouth pops open again as he nods, before watching as you wrap one arm around his shoulder and bring your other hand to your clit.  You swipe around his cock, collecting some of the mess you’ve both made there.  You know how to pleasure yourself and with Daichi’s expert stroke, it doesn’t take long before it snaps over you, the walls of your pussy squeezing around him forcing spend from him one more time.  It’s not as explosive as the first time but still enough that you can feel the wet leaking out onto his sheets.  “So good for me, Daichi, look how good you are for me,” you chant as you wring the last of the pleasure from each other.

When it’s over, he stills, pulling out of you and collapsing onto the bed beside you.  There’s a sheen of sweat covering you both.  The cool early morning air coming in Daichi’s open window creates the perfect juxtaposition of sensations.  He reaches over to trace patterns into your palm.  “Can I hold you?”  The question is so sweet, it makes you huff out a laugh.  The man just blew your back out and he asks if he can hold you.  But you are more than willing to oblige him so you roll into his open arm and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.  You wait a moment before looking up at him, relishing the feeling of his fingers now tracing patterns into your arm and shoulder.

“Didn’t you mention something about handcuffs earlier?”  He looks down at you jerkily, a sheepish grin on his face.  You smile mischievously.  You’re going to ruin him.  He’s going to let you.  And he’s going to love it.

“Let me make you breakfast first, yeah?”  You nod and breathe in the smell of him, all sex and musk and expensive cologne.  Neither one of you knows where this is going to go but right now, it doesn’t matter.  You yawn and snuggle closer.

“Just so you know,” you intone sleepily, “I like French toast.”  He laughs softly, his own body relaxing into a lazy slumber.

“Hm, French toast?  I pinned you as a pancake kinda girl.  Good thing I also like French toast and always keep the supplies in to make it.”  His breathing is slow and shallow, matching the rhythm of yours.  The sun peeks over the cityscape around you as the two of you go under, cradled in each other’s arms.

This work and its digital elements (photo credit to photographer) are © Kait of @kaitsawamura 2024. Please do not alter or copy this work. Please do not repost this work to other platforms without my express permission.

[alizalayne]

Hello! this will be a quick process post so that you can see how I needlefelted a fursuit head!

I began by following the "bucket head" tutorial by Matrices, then added a layer of polyfill so that I wouldn't use as much of my merino wool. This is how I typically make a doll head, my "core wool" is often polyfill because it really likes to clump together and fuse.

Overall, this project took about two months of my spare time. This is the first fursuit head I have made, but not my first needlefelt project.

I would really like to encourage other people to try making masks this way! You can do any kind of subtle color with wool and the wool fiber is very cheap. If you wanted to make a fursuit head with the entirety of starry night flowing over it, or a head with tons and tons of complex colors, I think wool might be the best material. I also did not need to know how to pattern or sew in order to make this-- it was sculpture rather than sewing, which I am bad at.

The rest under the cut!

Another angle where you can see that I am building up the structure of the head.

I then made the ears, which are translucent because they're felted, just like real ears!

I wasn't happy yet with the proportions at this point, so I spent a lot of time figuring that out and deciding where and how I'd be placing the eyes.

I made a pair of sculpey follow-me eyes by using a little soy sauce dish as a concave circular mold and tried a foam clay nose and teeth. The sculpey eyes could be more successful, they took a lot of shaving and adjusting to get right and they eventually cracked from the strain I'd put them through while making them more shallow. For a while, I intended to make wefts of white wool to use on the sides of the head, but I ended up preferring a domestic shorthair head shape because it reads the most clearly as a cat vs any other animal.

I originally intended to have the eyes behind clear plastic domes and used "shaker domes" that people use to make greeting cards to cover the eye, but in the end they made the eyes too dull. I made foam clay housing for the eyes and painted it pink with acrylic paint. I used stick-on car window tint to create the pupils. My visibility inside the head is really good!

Finally, after fiddling, one of the eyes was deeper than the other and I had to re-set both to account for it. I added spot glitter on top of the acrylic paint on the eye using some gold watercolor paint I had, which was silly because I'll need to wash the head at some point. I will probably seal the eyes before washing and hope for the best. I intend to spot clean the head until it absolutely needs to be washed, at which point I'll remove some pieces or find a way to protect them while soaking the head in a cool dr. bronner's bath.

I glued down a layer of felt fiber on top of the foam clay "tear ducts" and then felted new fiber over the tear duct skin and cheeks to blend them into the face. I also removed the teeth and closed her mouth because I didn't have time to adjust the teeth as much as I wanted before the con that my friends and I attended. I would like to modify this head so that she can open and close her mouth.

Lastly, I added wire whiskers with little glass beads looped onto the ends and paper eyelashes that I also watercolored and sealed, like the insides of the eyes. Like I said before, it's gonna be a problematic wash, but I'm confident I'll figure it out, and I can always repair her or replace her lashes if something goes wrong.

Last thing, to keep the inside of the head nice and cool and prevent fogging since in the end I closed the mouth and had sealed eyes, I made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece fitted into two collapsible auto funnels.

I would say that realistically this entire project cost me less than $150. I had some materials lying around, like the wire and the beads and the sculpey.

I added two ear vents on either side of the head so that I had options on where to feed the snorkel out. If you look at the other pictures on the blog of me wearing the head, you mostly can't even see the snorkel mouth. However, it was a little problematic to let go of the snorkel to talk. it would be perfect for a silent suiter, but I'm lucky that so many people wanted to talk to me. I'd like to try and replace the snorkel mouth with something I can talk in, but I'm not sure what to use. It should be something that can create a seal to keep my breath out of the head. it's possible that I will be able to make something with a painter's mask.

I hid the "seam" between the head and my body with two yards of tulle tied into a big bow and sewn down onto the neck so that it wouldn't move around.

I hope that if you try making something similar you'll show it to me!

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Aaron Quotes

men who are just constantly tired of everything>>>>>

“Well buckle up, wiz kid.”

“So yeah, I am gonna miss you. I’m really gonna miss you.”

“Sue me. Except don’t. My brain is already fried from the financials, I don’t need to throw legalese on top of that.”

“Fuck it. There’s nothing in here I can’t replace. I want you."

“Oliver”

“I didn’t say I wanted to spend the day with you, I asked if you wanted to spend the day with me. I asked first.”

"Ell"

“Hey, stop it. Because you know how much I like you running your fingers through my hair. Makes my brain go all fuzzy.”

“I appreciate it. And you.”

“Oh, it’s not playing dirty. It’s just me making you feel good.”

“I didn’t realise I was apparently dating an anthropomorphic backpack.”

“H-hey—stop it. You—no, your kisses are just… it tickled. Shut up. So what if my sides are ticklish, it’s not like that’s weird, you shit.”

“Oh, and now you can’t even find the strength to lift your head out of my lap, hmm? You poor thing. Who knew that being lazy could be so exhausting?”

“I love you very much. Now get off me.”

“You talked a big talk back then. But it turns out you’re just a cuddle-hungry softy after all, huh? Yes you are. At least when you’re still sleepy, anyway.”

“I also know you’re probably the kind to fly off half-cocked and make me chase you down with the SPF 50 like a madman. If for no other reason than to infuriate me.”

“Come here. Come closer. Because I said so.”

“I love you. And I love rain. And I love being with the person I love while it rains. Isn’t that a fun little combo?”

“You are very cute looking up at me like that.”

“Or is the thought of a few more minutes in my arms that much of an imposition? Asshole. Mmm. I love you too.”

“I can’t even try to say a nice thing without you having to get some snark into it, can I? No, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You brat. I love you just as you are.”

“You make me better. And that’s no small order when you’re talking about me, given the high level I already started at.”

“A man’s gotta eat. And you’ve always been my favorite thing on the menu.”

“Oh yes, you’re so put upon. Your evil boyfriend only makes you a whole breakfast spread, he won’t then also let you sleep in even later than you already have.”

“Eli”

“Yes, in a shocking twist, I do find your absence unpleasant. Perish the thought, right?”

“Time spent with the people I care about is important to me. It doesn’t have to be time doing anything special, it doesn’t have to be conversations about our future or some greater purpose or any of that shit, I just want to be with the person that I’m with.”

“Sure, there are plenty of ways to sleep on a couch just fine. It’s your hybrid approach that lands somewhere between gymnast and pretzel that tends to get you in trouble.”

“You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“If it feels like it's coming on again, come tell us, okay?”

“I only met them a handful of times. They're sweet. They laugh a lot. They spent most of the time giving Elliott shit, it was funny. Not in like a mean way, like the way you do when you love somebody that much. They were a good balance for one another.”

“God I sound old. And I feel old. And I’m not, but it feels like it. A grumpy old man. Might as well start yelling at kids to not play so loud in the neighborhood, really complete the image.”

“Stop calling me an old man, only I’m allowed to call me old. Don’t be mean. I’m in a vulnerable state. I need baseless praise.”

“Yes. Holding you feels very productive.”

“Yeah. Let me just rub it on that pretty face for a little bit…”

“ It’d be fine. Almost as fine as you. I’m tired, I’m allowed to be stupid.”

“El, I have never hated you. You’re my little brother, I love you.”

“No the windows are mirrored glass. You should know that, you worked here.”

“Whose is it? Louder”

“Thank you baby. Yeah, thank you for trusting me like you do. […] All I wanna do is prove myself worthy of that trust.”

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

you're a bad idea (i'll never say no to)

Summary: After an awful one night stand, you find some comfort (and more) in an unlikely source

Pairing: Nick Miller x fem!reader

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+, oral sex (fem receiving), sexual innuendo, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating

A/N: i remembered i had this draft lying around and it was not as bad as i thought, so here it is for y'all to enjoy!!

Tagging: @tripleyeeet @elfinbloodbag @fictionobsession (not sure if you care about nick miller, but if you do, i hope y'all enjoy!! if you don't want to be tagged, let me know <3)

\_/

Entering the loft, you found Nick laying on the couch in complete darkness. You only noticed him because of the dim light that shone through the windows. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, his hand wrapped around a bottle of booze that, in the darkness, you couldn’t entirely make out.

“Hey, Nick.”

He groaned, raising his bottle in what you imagined was his way of greeting you home.

“Anyone else home?”

He answered with another —negative— groan, putting his lips around the bottle and taking a long sip. You sat down on the other end of the couch, reaching out for the bottle that, after a scowl, he handed to you.

“So, what are we drinking for?” you asked, after gulping down some of the liquor. Probably whiskey, given the burning taste it left in your mouth.

“I’m drinking,” he started as he sat up on the couch, “because life sucks.”

“Preach.”

You took another sip under Nick’s tipsy but inquisitive stare.

“Why are you drinking?”

“Can’t I just drink because I want to?”

Nick raised his eyebrows, scoffing slightly and raising his hands in surrender. “Trust me, I won’t be the one to stop you.”

You nodded, lowering your gaze on the glass bottle in your hands as you pondered pensively if it was wise to drink more of that. You had to show up at work the next day, you couldn’t miss another shift without a reasonable excuse.

“Didn’t you have that big thing tonight?”

Your fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle.

“Yeah, you had that date with the guy you met a while back at the bar.” He turned towards you, his elbow resting on the back of the sofa. “How did it go?”

You didn’t answer. You just took another swing of the liquor —definitely whiskey, your burning throat confirmed— before giving the bottle back to Nick.

“Wow…” he chuckled as he placed the whiskey on the floor, “that bad, uh?”

“I mean…” You threw your head back on the couch. “It wasn’t going that badly but then…” You groaned in frustration, covering your face with your hands.

Nick scooted a little closer, the leather of the couch creaking under him. “Well, well, color me intrigued.”

Your arms fell to your lap as you skeptically looked at him. “I don’t think you really want to hear anything regarding my misadventures in dating.”

“You underestimate me, I love hearing about other people’s misfortunes.” He took the bottle once again before handing it back to you with a smile. “Makes me feel better about my awful life.”

You snorted as you gladly accepted his offer.

“Well, then you’re really going to enjoy this.”

-

“His mom?!”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes through the embarrassment. Your hand moved on his own and brought the nearly empty bottle to your lips; some more booze to hopefully quiet down those memories freshly ingrained in your brain.

“And she did not only walk in on us having sex, but she also started giving both of us a lecture on protections, trust and cheating…”

“Don’t tell me he has a girlfriend,” he murmured, already in a fit of giggles.

“He has a girlfriend! Good job, Miller!”

You clapped as you watched Nick almost rolling with laughter. His head was thrown back, his body incredibly close to falling flat either on the couch or the ground, depending on which direction he swayed in. Every time you thought he was about to fall face-first into the floor, and every time he managed to balance himself at the last moment and not break his nose.

“That’s the LA experience right there, little Day.” He gave you a fist bump and stole the bottle from you. “You haven’t lived here unless you’ve had at least one weird hook-up.”

As he downed what remained of the whiskey, you realized how cute he looked when he smiled. In the two weeks since you had ‘moved in’ with your sister, crashing in her shared apartment while you looked for one of your own, Nick Miller hadn’t exactly been Mr. Sunshine. The moment you had set your foot through the door of the loft, he had made clear he didn’t love the idea of you staying there —or at least, that was before you said you were going to help with the rent— and since then, whenever you were around he acted more like a robot than a human.

Answering in monosyllables, sometimes even ignoring you when you were in the room, it was almost logical that you had come to the conclusion that Nick Miller hated you.

“He does not hate you,” Jess had assured you despite your skepticism. “He’s just not the biggest fan of change.”

Telling the truth, from what you had seen so far, Nick wasn’t the biggest fan of anything. He spent most of his day complaining about everything he could think about. The half-broken sink. The socio-economic injustice that plagued the US. Pants with tight crotches.

But most of all, something that he avoided like the plague itself: talking with other people. Sure enough, he and the other three roommates talked all the time: always fighting, bickering, gossiping, bothering each other in that irritating but loving way that you —as a sibling— could understand. However, when it came to opening up and communicating without filters or jokes, it seemed like he would’ve much preferred jumping off the roof of the loft than to actually say how he felt. He could do it, but he always seemed about to puke when he had to.

After the cold shoulder he gave you for two weeks, you were surprised that you were able to have a civil conversation with him at all. Obviously there were no feelings or any other deep emotional stuff, but it was still baffling how easy it was to just be with him like that.

Maybe it was just the booze.

“I bet you’ve had many weird hook-ups,” you teased him, poking his leg with your shoe.

“I’ve…” Nick trailed off for a moment, his eyes following the shape of your leg —from the ankle to the knee— before clearing his throat and looking away. “I’ve had my fair share.”

You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head as you watched Nick in the dim light. It might’ve been the booze, but he looked incredibly hot. Since you had arrived at the loft, your eyes had always been drawn to Nick, one way or the other. You often found yourself lingering on him as he walked by, replaying every interaction you two shared in your head for hours before letting it go.

His scruffy attractiveness wasn’t a subjective matter, it was a fact. But at that specific moment, there was just something more to him. Perhaps it was his hair, all messed up and going in all different directions, or his cheeks, slightly flushed because of the whiskey… or perhaps —you thought— because of you.

When he looked back at you he scoffed, shaking his head and standing up, his gaze glued to the ceiling.

“Don’t look at me like that, little Day.”

“Like what, Nick?”

He didn’t answer: he just stepped away from the couch, heading to the kitchen while chanting no to himself. You followed him with your eyes as he opened the fridge and took a beer. The condensation glistened on the glass as Nick opened the bottle and brought it to his lips. You swallowed as you watched him drink, transfixed by the movement of his Adam’s apple with every gulp he took.

He came back to the couch, sitting on the other end of it, putting as much distance between you two as he could. Despite that, he kept glancing at you before looking away immediately after.

“You’re Jess’ younger sister.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“She will kill me if I…” His eyes darted to your face, falling to your mouth and then lowering even more. “If we…”

“If we what?”

He shook his head and took another long sip of beer, avoiding your piercing stare.

Frowning in annoyance, you stood up and plopped on the couch next to him. You took the beer from his hand and put it on the shelves behind the couch. When you did, your fingers brushed: despite the cold bottle in his hands, his skin was warm. You blamed the booze for the thoughts that started filling your head, wondering how his fingers would’ve felt on you.

“If we what, Miller?”

Nick took a deep breath before turning towards you with a wry smile. “It’s the rules of the loft, little Day.” He moved one arm on the back of the couch, just behind your shoulders. “As roommates, we vowed not to nail each other or each other’s siblings.”

You raised your eyebrow with a smirk. “So you want to nail me?”

“I never said that,” Nick pointed out immediately, shaking his head with a smile, “and I’m ready to deny these accusations in court.”

You nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“So…” you started again, shifting on your seat until your shoulder was pressed against his side, “you don’t want to nail me?”

The smile on his face faded, leaving behind just a hint of softness in his features. “I never said that either.”

He stood still, looking into your eyes while someone shouted in the streets below and a far away car alarm kept ringing. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers moved on the back of your neck, brushing on your skin and leaving behind a trail of fire. You held your breath for a moment, getting used to the sensation and keeping your tipsy mind from roaming too far away.

“I see,” you whispered as your fingers moved along his jaw, the rough stubble grazing against your fingertips. “It must be a very hard decision for you.”

He nodded, his mouth opening ever so slightly when you pressed your thumb on his bottom lip, still damp from the beer. You leaned in, stopping just a couple of inches from his face. So close that you could feel his breath on your face.

“Then I’ll leave you to it.”

You pulled away with a smirk, quite amused by Nick’s annoyed face. “So you can make up your mind without any distractions.”

You pushed yourself up, headed to Jess’ bedroom. You were already dreading sleeping once again on the air mattress that she had kindly lent you when a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back on the couch.

As you fell across Nick’s lap, one of his arms wrapped around your back and the other held your waist. His mouth was on yours before you could say or do anything, and when his lips started moving your brain melted just as much as your body did in his hold. It was unexpected, a mess of crashing limbs and lips that tasted of alcohol and poor decisions, and a warmth almost too intense for your fogged mind.

When you pulled away, breathless after just a few seconds, you found him staring at you, his lips parted as he inhaled shakily and a longing glimmer in his eyes.

“I think I might’ve made up my mind.”

You snorted, gently holding his neck as you ran your thumbs along it. “Took you long enough.”

Your back soon met the cushions of the couch as he cupped the back of your neck —tugging ever so slightly at your hair— and dove back onto your mouth, deepening the kiss when you parted your lips again. Gripping his scratchy flannel, you pulled Nick closer as you kissed him back, wrapping your legs around him. When you felt his crotch pressing against your core, a groan of desire left your lips, silenced by Nick’s mouth while his hands wondered along your thighs and towards the hem of your shorts.

“Jess can never know about this,” he stressed as he pulled away, just enough for your eyes to meet. “Ever,” he added, your lips brushing when he spoke.

“I’ve lied successfully to my sister thousands of times.” You nudged your nose against his with a smirk. “What about you, sweaty-back? Will you be able to hide it?”

Nick rolled his eyes, half a smile gracing his face before you pulled him back in for another kiss. Despite the stubble, his lips were soft and gentle, even when you were eating each other’s mouths. It might’ve been the booze that still lingered on them, but the more you drowned in their taste, the more intoxicating it got and the harder it was to pull away from them, even to just breathe.

“Maybe-” you gasped, moaning softly while Nick left a trail of kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, “maybe we should go to your room. Before anyone-”

He shoved those few words back in your throat with another kiss, pushing your shirt up as his hands glided along your skin. His warm palms pressed against your bare waist created a loud cacophony of sensations which made your guts twist all around.

“Yeah,” he nodded as he pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his lips ever so slightly glimmering with spit in the dim light. “Let’s do that.”

It took you all of your self-control not to drag him back on top of you.

He clumsily stood up, his legs all tangled in yours, and then helped you to your feet. Before you could take another step, Nick placed his hands on your waist and pulled you into him. His mouth was back on your neck, almost tickling as he kept kissing and sucking your skin.

“Nick, I swear to God,” you muttered between a giggle and a moan as he dragged you both to his room, “if you give me a hickey I-”

His mouth moved from your jaw and sloppily closed around yours. His tongue moved on your lips, that opened to it without any resistance. You threw your arms over his shoulders, pulling him in as he blindly opened the door and then closed it.

After hearing the lock click, you felt the plywood pressing against your back while his mouth wandered even deeper into yours. Your hands tightened on his hair, gaining a moan from Nick that died in your throat.

When he finally pulled away, the only sound in Nick’s bedroom was your heavy breathing as your lungs slowly filled.

“As I was saying,” you sighed with trembling voice, “I will not hesitate one second to throw you under the bus.”

“God.” His whisper brushed onto your numb-kissed mouth, his fingers cupping your jaw and running on your bottom lip. “Do you ever shut up?”

You threw your head against the door, eyebrows cocked and a smirk gracing your glistening lips.

“Do you want me to shut up?” With your eyes glued to Nick’s, you hooked your finger to his jeans and pulled him in. “Or do you want to hear me scream, Miller?”

-

“Fuck!”

The moan left your mouth louder than you expected as Nick curled his fingers inside of your cunt, reaching the deepest part of you before pulling them out and then thrusting them in at an agonizing pace.

“Do you like this?”

His whispered question hit your inner thigh, followed by the grazing of his beard as he let his lips run over your skin. His warm breath brushed on your core, tingling on the wet and sensitive skin between your legs.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding quickly as you watched him pushing his fingers in again, both of them disappearing inside of you up to his knuckles. “Can you go faster?”

Nick chuckled against your leg, curling his fingers once more —almost touching that soft spot inside of you— before slowly pulling them out. You groaned, throwing your head back on the pillows, while he moved the sticky fingers up and down your thigh.

“You don’t have a grain of patience in you.”

“Well, at least I’m not edging someone who’s had a terrible-”

You took a sharp breath in when his tongue lapped your folds, his hands grabbing your legs and pulling you closer. Before you could even think about anything else, he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking onto it, stealing another loud whimper from you.

“God, you’re so loud.”

His words rumbled against your slick, twisting the knot in your abdomen that was aching to be released. You bit down on your lip as you felt a flush of warmth growing on your face, suddenly too aware of yourself, too bare in front of him. Then a soft tapping on your thigh drew your gaze back between your legs. Nick was there, looking back at you with a smirk pulling upwards his lips damp with your slick.

“I love it.”

Your throbbing core sent one last aching pulse before Nick, his eyes still stuck in yours, dove right back into it. When his tongue slithered inside you, lapping your folds and walls, you closed your eyes as your mouth started letting out the most lewd sounds you had ever heard.

He kept fucking you with his tongue, moving it back and forth as you bucked your hips towards him for more friction, chasing that release you’d been looking for all night. Then Nick turned his head ever so slightly —an accident, probably just trying to find a position that hurt less for his neck— and, with every thrust inside of you, his nose started nudging your clit. Over, and over, and over.

Your hand jolted to his hair, keeping his face in place as you bucked your hips again and again, as much as you could despite the rush of pleasure that was starting to overcome you, the same rush that had transformed you in a whimpering mess, unable to form one single word.

“Fuck- I-”

Whatever you wanted to say, it died in your mouth as his tongue curled inside of you and his nose nudged once more against your clit. That was the last push you needed; soon after you were writhing in the bed, your hands tightening around Nick’s hair as the knot in your abdomen finally loosened and a sudden warmth rushed to your face, and every other inch of your body.

As your muscles and grip eventually relaxed, you felt one final lick running along your sensitive and over-stimulated folds before Nick sneaked out of the nestled spot between your legs.

“So.”

He crawled to the spot next to you, his fingertips roaming along your sternum as your chest kept slowly raising and falling with each breath you took. With the rush of adrenaline and desire still running through your veins, even his ghost touch was enough to make your insides tremble.

“So what?” you breathed, turning your head to meet that annoying, attractive grin — still glistening with your cum.

“Was it or was it not the best oral of your life?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“I see, you’re speechless.” He nodded to himself. “Understandable, I’ve trained a lot for this.”

“Ah, yes…” you chuckled lightly, taking his hand in yours and playing with his fingers. “Nothing more romantic than to hear about your previous one night stands.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Was this supposed to be romantic?”

“This? God, no! But next time…”

Nick scoffed. “You’ve already decided there’s going to be a next time?”

“Why not?”

“Little Day…”

Before he could say more — before he could try and convince you how that was a really bad idea — you pushed yourself up and sat on his abdomen, legs spread on either side of his body.

“I mean, at least let me ride you before you decide.”

His mouth hung open for a few seconds, a couple of terrifying seconds. Then his hands slowly crept along your thighs, taking hold of your flesh with a mischievous grin.

“I would never say no to that.”

[curiositydooropened]

Ranged • 02: Home

Finally, a day off. You're prepping for your best friend's barbecue when your partner starts pounding on your front door with news that brings you unease.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 5074

Warnings: very slowburn, this fic is episodic, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of death, cremation, scars, autopsies, etc.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Fic Masterlist

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Moodboard • 01: Firetower • 03: Bayou [Coming soon]

The pounding at your door nearly startled the wrapped gift from your hand. 

“Be right there!” You shouted and carefully tucked the card beneath crossed ribbon. 

With a huff, you made your way to the door. It was a challenge nowadays, hobbling on one foot, bracing yourself on the back of your couch and the buffet near the front door. The staircase was by-far the worst of it, especially when you were still on crutches. 

The pounding continued, a bit incessant and impatient, and you groaned. “Hold on! I’m in a boot!” 

The little cover over your peephole swung beneath your fingertips, and you strained to see your partner. His broad shoulders took up most of the frame, and his hair wagged as he checked both sides of your hallway. 

You unlocked the deadbolt and inched the door open. “Steve?”

“Les Joplin is dead.” Worry creased his brow.

You sighed and hobbled aside to let him in. Owens had called you with the bad news this morning. It was just a part of the gig. You can’t save everyone. You noticed Steve took these things harder than you’d been trained to.

Steve barreled past you, and until you saw the look of curiosity cross his features, you’d forgotten he’d never been to your apartment before. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about the lace trimmed window treatments your mom had set up and the Pig-shaped cookie jar on the countertop. His fingertips grazed the couch upholstery and he took in your massive entertainment shelves before turning to size you up.

“I’m sorry, were you going somewhere?”

You tugged your cardigan a little closer, hem of your dress brushing your knee over your hideous boot. “It is our day off.”

He nodded, and you took a moment to survey his own outfit. An oversized sweater was emblazoned with red, white, and blue embroidery. Navy blue shorts barely covered the breadth of his hairy thighs. The way his hair stuck to his temples denoted he’d been out on a Sunday morning jog. 

“How’d you find out about Les?” You asked, hobbling back to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. 

Steve met you there, tutting about your bum leg as he reached over your head for a glass from the cabinet to fill for himself. “Owens left me a voicemail.” 

You watched the steady rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he drank. A droplet fell from the corner of his lips and slid down the length of his jaw until he reached to wipe it up. 

“Joplin makes six in six months.” He frowned, turning the faucet on to rinse. 

You frowned, nodded. It was true, nearly all of the people you’d managed to life-flight out of Hell seemed to have died through some infection or surgical complications.

“Joplin had a broken leg.” Steve tapped at your boot with his toe. “You’re still alive.” 

You rolled your eyes. “He’d also been exposed to the elements for two days before we reached him. Vines had wrapped themselves around him. He could have been infected with the Blight and we just didn’t know.” 

“He was coherent!” Steve argued, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t find any of this fishy?”

The vulnerability in his gaze was rare, a softness that kicked something up within you, reminded you that this grumpy exterior cared and had compassion.

You chewed on your bottom lip and shrugged. “What do you want to do about it?” 

His shoulders seem to relax a little, and he leaned against your counter, crossing his ankles over one another. “I have someone looking into the autopsy of the Garcia brothers.”

You swallowed, remembering the smiling faces of the two boys as they held each other’s hand in the back of the ambulance. They’d died hours after pick-up. You shook your head. “They were cremated, remember? We can’t exhume any bodies.” 

Steve nodded. “I know. They’ve all been cremated. Les is being torched as we speak.” 

“Steve,” you groaned at his crudity, imaging the frail man with kind eyes being locked in an incinerator.

“Like I said, someone’s looking into it. I’m meeting them tonight.”

You broached your next question with caution. “Have you… spoken to Owens about this?”

Steve watched you, like a caged animal deciding whether or not it could trust the hand that feeds it. 

You understood the roots of his mistrust. You barely knew what he’d gone through, how complicated his tangles were with these government entities, but what little you did know seemed reason enough to question everything.

He cleared his throat, shook his head. “No, I want to have more solid evidence before I bring it to his attention.”

You nodded and opened your mouth to commend him when the antique cuckoo clock on your wall chimed 11. “Shit!”

Steve leapt back onto his feet, just as startled as you, and he side-stepped you as you grappled for the gift and wine bottle on the counter behind him. 

“Steve, I’m so sorry, but I’m late.” You said as you hobbled to your denim jacket and purse hanging near the front door. 

“You’re not driving, right?” He frowned.

You cursed again, reaching into your purse to procure your cell phone. 

“Who are you calling?”

“A cab,” you argued, shoving him out your door with full hands. The phone rang, wedged between your cheek and shoulder, and you fumbled in your bag for some keys. “Hold these,” you dumped the gifts into his outstretched hands.

“Hang up. I’ll drive you.” He sighed.

“Capital Cab Company, how can we help you today?”

“What?” You struggled with the key in the lock, and gaped at your partner when he gently removed your phone from your ear and ended the call.

“Let me drive you.”

—

A jagged scar sliced through toned and tanned thigh meat, deep, purple, fresh enough to thrust you back into that cold cave. You taste his blood in the air, feel his pulse slow against your chest. 

“So at what point were you going to tell me your partner was this scrumptious?” Your childhood best friend’s voice shook you back to reality.

Steve stood about a hundred feet away, thighs at eye-level and on-show in those tiny running shorts. His white tube socks were stained with flecks of mud and grass. He hugged one hand into his armpit, the other held a beer he’d barely drank since you all stepped into the backyard an hour earlier. 

“Or was that confidential information?” Sadie snickered, poking at your side.

You shushed her with a waved hand, trying not to let her see the way you warmed at the idea. You leaned forward in your lawn chair for another handful of potato chips from the card table teetering in front of you. “He is not… scrumptious.” 

Steve Harrington wasn’t a hunk. You’d seen him with toothpaste stuck to the corner of his mouth and dribbled down his sleep shirt. You watched him trip over his own shoelaces once. 

Sure, he took great care of his body. It was kind of in the job description. Neither of you could climb mountains or fight monsters if you’d let yourself go. And yeah, he possessed handsome features. He had a nice hairline and thick, full hair, rare for a man his age. The handful of times you’d seen his stubble grow in hadn’t made him look haggard.

You could admit there was a kindness in his eyes too, saved for incredibly special occasions.

“I honestly don’t know how you get any work done,” Michelle agreed, pouring herself another glass from the wine bottle you’d brought.

“I’d be taking every opportunity to climb him like a tree.” Tammie played with the pendant on her necklace, perched on her chair like she was waiting for him to look her direction.

You coughed, salty chip wedged somewhere in your esophagus.

Sadie saw your struggle and laughed, slipping your wine glass into a salty hand for relief.

“So tell us,” Rhonda leaned in, covering her mouth with her hand, “have you two ever…?” She waggled her eyebrows.

You sputtered wine back into your glass, and Sadie threw her head back in delight. 

You wiped the dribble from your chin and glared at your best friend. “Is this why you invited him in? So you and the girls could torment me?”

“Oh Pigeon, don’t be so dramatic,” Sadie pinched the flab under your arm and grinned. “I invited him in because I wanted to stare at those thighs. Think he’ll play volleyball if we put the net up?”

“Your husband is right there.” You gestured to poor, sweet Jeff, receding hairline and beer gut stretching his cotton polo. He drank his beer and flipped burgers and stared at Steve like he was just at smitten as his wife.

“He can join,” Sadie shrugged. 

This sent the other women in a fit of giggles and hoots. 

Steve met your gaze. Someone behind you must have waggled their fingers, because the corners of his lips quirked into a confused smile, and he extended a timid wave. 

You chewed on your cheeks to avoid laughing with them.

“I know we’ve been talking about those legs, but have you seen the size of his hands?” Tammie whispered into her wine glass.

“Oh I know, I’d like him to - “

“Alright,” you hoisted yourself from your lawn chair and hobbled away from the cackling women. The grass wasn’t ideal for your wobbly boot, but anywhere was better than the warmth radiating from your collar and the call of your best friend for you to return. 

Halfway across the yard, you stumbled on a rogue gopher hole, wine splashing from your glass and all over the front of the man who was conveniently there to catch you. Two large hands held you upright at your ribs.

“Why is it difficult for you to just sit and stay there?” Steve asked, chin and throat glistening with white wine. It soaked the top half of his sweatshirt.

Before you could apologize, the crew was on you, a flurry of mom’s pinching and doting, patting you both with paper towels. 

Steve waved them off so he could limp you back to your seat, pointing a warning finger your direction. “Stay there.”

“Steve, honey, let me throw that in the wash for you. I’m sure Jeff has something you can borrow.” Sadie shot you a salacious look before beckoning your partner in through the sliding glass door at the back of her house.

“Think they need help?” Rhonda snorted, and the rest of them started to holler again.

—

A summer thunderstorm forced the party indoors. Husbands toted drunk wives out the front door. The kids were hauled into the basement with popsicles and VHS rentals. Only a handful of party-goers remained, indulging in quiet conversation around Sadie’s immaculately floral living room. Her favorite record spun in the corner. 

“I’m worried about you, Pigeon,” she tapped at your knee above your boot and offered a glass of water. 

You accepted it and shrugged. “Hazards of the job. I survived, didn’t I?” You kneed her back.

She glanced around the room before she lowered her voice. “When Steve changed earlier, I saw those… scars. What exactly are you two fighting out there?” Her eyes were wide, full of worry, of fear. 

You felt it, too, sometimes. You thought about her a lot, about a life in a perfect suburban home with a picket fence. You wondered if you’d ever achieve that, too.

“Steve went through a lot before we recruited him.” It was the only explanation you could manage. 

You glanced at your partner. He stood in the kitchen, arms crossed over a too-small polo of Jeff’s in a horrid khaki green that still, somehow suited him. You wondered if he’d ever wanted the American Dream. You could imagine him hunched beneath a kitchen sink or flipping burgers outside. You could imagine him coming home after a long day’s work, dumping his briefcase in the hall closet, smelling the air for a home-cooked dinner. You imagined kids and a dog running to greet him.

“I just need you to be careful,” Sadie warned.

You blinked back into focus, and turned to see the look in her eye had changed. 

She nodded toward the kitchen, a knowing smirk playing at full lips.

“Sadie, thank you so much for inviting me. Are you sure it’s alright if Wyatt stays here tonight?” A voice from behind you pulled your best friend from her seat on the couch.

“Michelle, of course! Wyatt’s welcome anytime. Just call if you can’t pick him up tomorrow, I’ll have Jeff drive him home.” Sadie kissed her acquaintance on the cheek, bangles on her wrists jingling. 

Michelle said your name, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “It was really good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “You, too.”

She turned from you both and took a few steps before pausing and turning back to face you. “Okay, I know this is going to sound a bit… I dunno.” She waved off her words, insecurity oozing from a typically-poised frame.

Michelle was such a sweet woman, confident, beautiful. She worked with Jeff in radio advertising. She was a single mom. You’d never seen a hair of hers out of place, nor a pearled button. 

You glanced at Sadie, whose demeanor had gone rigid beside you.

“I just um… is there anything going on between you and Steve?”

You blinked back at her, your mouth going a little dry.

“I only ask because he and I had a really nice conversation earlier, and I wanted to give him my number, but I obviously would never step on your toes. I think the world of you. Also like, if it’d be weird at all, that’s totally understandable.” She was rambling now, her pale features tinged a bright red. 

Sadie was holding her breath beside you.

You blinked a few more times, processing the word vomit, and eventually your head shook itself. “No. Nope, no, huh uh. No. Um… no.” For God sake, anything else, say anything else. 

Sadie elbowed you.

You laughed. “Sorry, just um… Steve? Harrington?”

Michelle ducked her head and smiled, tucking a black curl behind her ear. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Chyeah, of course it is. That’s great, Michelle! That’s really great! I’ll put in a good word for you.” The words came out of you like they were flowing from someone else’s mouth. You felt paralyzed in your seat. Sadie’s claws were digging into the meat of your thigh. 

“Oh really? Oh that’d be amazing. Thanks so much. Well, wish me luck, I guess, then…” She let out a little eep like a school girl and waggled her fingers your direction before she turned to make a b-line to the kitchen. 

“You’ll put in a good word?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, smacking your friend’s hand away.

Steve stood up straight at Michelle’s approach, that stiff kindness meeting his eyes. He struck you a bit like Frankenstein’s monster, a man learning to be human again, movements stilted and face stuck in a scowl.

Michelle took something from her purse and placed it into his large hand, her own fingers lingering softly against his.

His throat turned a bit pink, and his ears, and it looked like he was fighting off a smile like it might hurt him. He nodded and said something back, and they ended their exchange with an awkward half-hug. Her curls caught on the bridge of his nose, his lashes. He met your gaze from across the room.

Then he jumped, apologized as the distinct bell of his cell phone chimed in his pocket.

Michelle left with one last excited wave to you girls, but you were already snapping your fingers for Sadie to grab you your purse from the coffee table. 

You dug for your phone, but by the time you flipped it open and dialed into voicemail, Steve was walking your direction. 

“Sadie, mind if I grab my sweatshirt?” He shot you a look and said, “We have to go.”

—

The rain thunked heavy on Steve’s windshield, wipers pulsing at a steady rhythm. The warmth of a far-off streetlamp cast reds and yellows across his silhouette and splashed across a bare kneecap.

You sat in a park parking lot. A swing set swayed in the wind a hundred or so yards to your left. A large hill jetted upwards at your center. Trees scattered the area. 

Steve’s car idled. The heater puffed warmth that smelled of leather and him, and the faintest sweet of white wine that Sadie’s natural detergent hadn’t managed to squeeze out of his sweatshirt. 

“Where are we?” You asked, glancing around the empty lot. 

The sun had dipped west an hour ago, just as you reversed out of Sadie’s driveway beside Jeff’s station wagon. 

“I don’t know,” Steve grumbled. His leg bounced, shaking the entire car with nervous energy. 

You had half a mind to slow his movements, the heat and the sway churning your motion-sick stomach, but the idea of clamping down on his muscled and hairy thigh had you thinking of the girls at the barbecue. You imagined each of them in the backseat of his car, oohing and chanting for you to quit being a baby and just do it.

So you sucked your cheeks between your teeth and stared directly ahead at the beading water on the windshield.

“So…” You breathed. “What did you think of Michelle?”

“Who?” Steve stopped his quake.

You sighed and looked back at him. “Michelle, from the party? Black hair, freckles, drop-dead gorgeous. She gave you her number at the end of the night?”

“Oh right,” he said, like that was the only indication he’d met this woman.

You blinked back at him, waiting for more elaboration. You should have known better. With another deep breath, you pushed a little further. “She wanted me to put in a good word.” 

“Okay,” and now he waited expectedly.

“What?” You frowned.

“Tell me something good about her.”

For the life of you, all you could muster was, “She’s a really good mom?”

Steve snorted, though his expression remained unamused. “Great, I’ll ask her to cut the crust off my sandwiches.” 

“No, that’s not…” You huffed, adjusting your sweating back against the leather seat. You grumbled and flicked off the heat, suddenly feeling the space around you void of air.

You sat in silence for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts, frustrated that the only image coming to mind was Michelle’s perfectly manicured nails clinging to Jeff’s polo collar. Steve’s hands held her close, sliding down to the seat of her jeans. 

Steve cleared his throat, and you blinked back to reality.

“I’m sure I can think of nicer things to say,” you managed to squeak out.

“I’m not going to date Michelle,” Steve spoke low and slow beside you, his voice warming you more than the heater had.

You glanced up at him, strong jaw and defined nose cut through warm lamplight. You pondered his tone, wondered how final it had felt, how far you could press. Maybe it’d be best to leave it there.

“This job doesn’t lend well to… a life.” His voice startled you again, information given before it was asked.

You didn’t dare respond, lips sealed, breath held.

He scratched at the stubble overgrown on his chin. “Doesn’t feel fair to get someone’s hopes up when I could be killed the next day.”

His name fell from your lips in a sigh, and he caught you gaze, lips quirked upward in a wry smile as he waved his words from the space between you.

“That’s just me though. I’m not like… putting that on you. Date a bunch of guys, if you want! Or one guy! Or one gal. I don’t care, I just um…” He coughed into his hand. 

You snorted and glanced back out the windshield at the lamplight and the rain. 

A shadow moved straight ahead, emerging from the hill top, bowed shoulders and a wide-brimmed hat. 

“Steve,” you nodded, reaching your hand into your bag for your concealed weapon. 

He adjusted himself upright, his own hand stopping your wrist. 

“Is that your guy?” You asked, heart thundering a little louder in your ear.

“I hope so,” he answered, and you both just waited. 

The figure seemed to sway down the hillside, walking at too slow a pace, darting through the tree line to be covered in shadow when he could. Finally, as he stepped into the warmth of lamplight and tilted his head to expose round cheeks, Steve released your wrist and dropped his shoulders in relief.

The door creaked and the pitter of rain against the asphalt deafened you for a moment as Steve stepped out to scold the contact. Both men spoke in hushed tones, gesturing wildly to you before admitting defeat and retreating to the safety of the car’s interior. The whole vehicle shook under their combined weight, and they brought with them the sweet smell of ozone. 

You eyed Steve, tendrils of his hair dripping onto scruffy cheekbones.

He grimaced and pushed his hair from his eyes, gesturing from you to the man in the seat behind him. “This is Dustin Henderson, Henderson, this is my partner.” He introduced you.

“My real name, Steve? Really?” Dustin snapped, pulling the fedora from wild curls.

Steve shrugged. “She didn’t know it was your real name until you just confirmed it, dipshit.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

You blinked back at a the two of them. There was no family resemblance, but they bickered like siblings, and you realized this was the largest glimpse you’d gained into Steve’s private life in the year you’d known him. You knew his parents’ names, that he grew up in Indiana. You knew he was captain of the swim team. You knew he enjoyed sports. You knew he knew far too much about the movie Labyrinth. You knew his go-to sit-in diner order (a cheeseburger with no onions and a strawberry shake). But somehow this connection, with this strange young man, was the greatest insight you had into who your partner really was.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you extended a hand. 

Dustin Henderson smiled at that, a big, warm, round smile. His hand was cold and clammy from the rain, but the handshake was strong and firm. “Likewise,” he nodded. “Steve was right, you are a beautiful woman.”

“Hello? Can we talk about the autopsy reports?” Steve snapped his fingers to get you both back on track.

“Okay, Jesus Christ,” Dustin hissed like a scolded middle schooler. He reached into the inside pocket of his oversized trench coat and pulled out a few pieces of paper. He handed half the pile to Steve and half to you. 

You squinted down at a handful of coroner’s reports, the names of the deceased all familiar to you. Les Joplin sat at the top of the pile. Cause of death: prolonged exposure. You swallowed and handed the paper over for Steve to read.

He shook his head. “So could you find anything?” 

Dustin tapped his fingers on the bottom of the pages. “All of these autopsy’s were done by the same man. No matter what part of the country these people were in, they brought in the same guy. George Humbolt.”

You thumbed through the remaining papers to find the signature he’d indicated. 

“George Humbolt no longer works for the United States government. He actually recently retired and bought a very large mansion in Key Largo. He was a very difficult man to track down, and when I called him earlier to ask him about the Garcia brothers, his phone line was disconnected.” Dustin explained through grit teeth.

You glanced up at the young man, peach fuzz barely cresting his upper lip. You wondered what got him into this life, if he’d been thrust into conspiracy theories chasing his older brother-figure. You wondered if he’d seen as many horrible things as Steve had, as you had. You hoped not. You hoped nothing would come of this snooping. You hoped he was being safe.

“Humbolt didn’t do Joplin’s,” Steve exchanged you papers again. In script, you could barely make out the name of a woman, Caroline Something. “Maybe we can track down the new person?”

“I did some digging into her too.” Dustin nodded. “Her supervisor is one Samuel Owens.”

You watched Steve’s expression shift, harden. You watched him watch you. You watched the trust fall from his eyes, wariness making his shoulders and jaw rigid.

He swallowed, nodded, folded the papers in his hands. “Well, Henderson, thanks for this, man. I think maybe it’d be wise to lay low for a little while.”

“Sure, man. You know I’m always careful though.” Dustin could sense the shift in his friend. His face seemed to screw up, too, in concern. He offered you a sad smile. 

Steve nodded, solemn, and cranked the heat again. The noise from the fan cut through the tension. “Do you need a ride home? How the Hell did you get out here?”

“Walked.” Dustin sighed and folded himself back into his seat, reaching for the seat belt.

—

The rain calmed to a soft sprinkle that dotted your cheeks. Droplets caught on your eyelashes and cast stardust in your vision under streetlights and the entrance to your apartment building. You blinked them away, keys jingling at your side as you let yourself in.

Steve held the door to let you hobble past, and he followed you in quiet silence onto the elevator.

You pressed the button to your floor and relaxed into the handrail, taking some weight off your aching foot in its boot.

Dustin had made sweet small talk on his way home, asking about your life and your interests. You’d learned he was a computer programmer. He had a pet turtle, and Steve was his best friend. 

When he exited the car, the two exchanged a cute handshake that Steve seemed nonplussed to reenact, despite both of them being silhouetted in the headlights.

Steve didn’t speak a word to you the rest of the way home.

“Thanks again for sticking with me at Sadie’s today. You really didn’t have to stay.” You said, voice hoarse, as you stepped off the elevator and onto your floor.

Your partner shrugged, rubbed at the back of his neck. “I had fun. Sorry about Henderson, by the way. He can be a bit…” 

“Endearing? Wholesome? Adorable?” You smiled.

Steve snorted. “I was going to say obnoxious, but I’ll tell him you said that. He’ll probably buy you flowers.” 

You hummed. “Flowers are nice, and so was he.” 

You put your keys into your lock and twisted. Steve was warm behind you, a towering presence of protection and safety. You thought of Sadie’s warning. Be careful. Never had you doubted where you stood with Steve. Even though he’d been a stranger to you, you never felt threatened, never felt afraid. 

You turned to look at him.

He swallowed, glanced down the hall. “Listen, I’m really sorry about today. Sometimes I can’t handle that I can’t save everyone, and I get a bit carried away.”

Your heart sunk, and you tilted your head to catch his gaze. His brown eyes were nervous. You shook your head. “No, you were right. Something weird is going on, and we’re going to figure it out. We can’t save everyone, but we can save someone.”

He took a few beats, searching for a falter in your certainty, searching for that trust in you, before he nodded.

A soft meow startled you apart, and your front door clicked open. Mrs. Song’s cat began rubbing his black and white butt against Steve’s ankle, purring loudly.

You both chuckled, clutching at startled chests before Steve leaned down to give the cat some much-needed pets.

Your heart pittered a little in your chest, and you found your face warming once again at the thought of Steve returning home after a long day’s work to greet his pets.

You cleared your throat and backed into your apartment, tossing your purse on the nearby hook and shrugging out of your jacket. “Well, goodnight. Thanks again for the ride.”

Steve stood up straight, all thick thighs and broad shoulders, cheeks pinched pink. He nodded. “Sure, no problem. Do you uh… do you need a ride to the office tomorrow?”

You tucked a hair behind your ear and shrugged. “Sure, um… sure, thanks.” 

He nodded again. “Alright, pick you up at 7:45?”

You nodded. You felt paralyzed in this moment.

Steve stood in the precipice of your doorway, the green of your wallpaper bringing out the green in his eyes. You thought back to the teasing words of the women at the barbecue. If any of them had a man like this in their doorway, they’d invite him in, offer him a drink, do anything but stand and stare and wonder what could be, hearts racing.

He wrapped his knuckles against the doorframe and pushed off, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. “Alright, then. Night.”

“Night.” You managed.

He stumbled a bit around the cat during his turnaround and bent to give her one last little pat.

“Steve!”

He stopped and stood back up to look at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t let the job discourage you,” you released a shaky exhale.

He frowned, confused.

“From having a life,” you explained.

Realization flooded his features, but the two of you remained rooted to the spot. You thought of Dustin and his turtle, and of Sadie and Jeff and their sweet little home. You thought of kids screaming on the trampoline. You thought of all of these things you never thought you’d have, unsure if you wanted them, unsure where Steve stood, if you’d be dragging him down, stealing his happiness by dying on the field. Maybe that’s what happened to Robin…

You cleared your throat, smiled, nodded. “You should really call Michelle. She’s a really sweet person. She’s funny. She’s very intelligent. She makes excellent brownies. Her son, Wyatt, is a really cool kid, too. I think he’s in karate.”

Steve nodded, taking another step backwards into the hallway, spell-broken. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good.” You smiled. “Night.”

“Night.”

The peephole carved a divot into your forehead once the door was closed. 

---

Moodboard • 01: Firetower • 03: Bayou [Coming soon]

[mamabearneeds-her-dietcoke]

Pictures- Daryl Dixon

summary- Slowing taking down built walls

i didn't proofread this so excuse any spelling mistakes

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When Rick's group first arrived at Alexanderia you were delighted. You were do excited to meet new people, and of course keeping your distance but overall being nice and helping out.

After a couple months of them being there they finally started to warm up to everyone. You had made friends with Michonne and Rick, along with Carl. Sometimes You'd have them over for dinner or offer to watch Judith.

You did however, have your eyes on one special person. You worked in the infirmary here and there and when you did see him it was Carol forcing him to have someone treat his infected cuts. He never said anything to you, just glaring at Carol as she shoves him in the door. It startled you the first time, and when you turned around he stoof there looking at you before lifting his shirt and showing the injury.

nothing needed to be said, you just nodded your head and gestured to the bed as you grabbed supplies and cleaned him up. You mumbled a finished as you threw bloodied tissue and such away and he left.

Even though you worked a bit in the infirmary you also went out on runs quite often and had a good say in how things rolled. Whether the runs were longer or shorter, whenever you returned you always saw him near the gates. You wanted to believe he was making sure you were there but you were never sure.

One day, a couple months after Rick's group joined Alexandria, you opened your door to see daryl holding a small box. "Here. Collected these fer ya. ya don' gotta wear em'." He hands you the box and it's filled with jewelrys and small little knickknacks. "Thank you Daryl." You smile and whether or not he'd admit it, there was a small smirk on his face as he walked away.

You took the box to your dining room table and sorted through it. There were all kinds of necklaces and rings. You could tell they've been cleaned and fixed up. You put on some of the bracelets and necklaces, along with a couple of the rings. There's small little animal figurines, and you put those on your window sill above your sink.

Often times you'd find Daryl sitting on your porch, cleaning his crossbow or fiddling with whatever he managed to find on his runs. You'd bring him a glass of water or lemonade, sometimes a plate of whatever you were cooking. Sometimes You'd ask if he'd try a new recipe, other times the two of you would just sit there in comfortable silence.

It's around 6pm, You walk out to give Daryl his glass of lemonade and you start to walk to your chair on the porch when you feel him grab your hand stopping you. "Sit wit' me." Surprised but not upset you turn back and sit next to him. "Why are ya so nice to me?" He asks. "Why not?" You reply. "Others just look at me weird and keep their distance, You smile at me and invite me in. Whatsup with tha'?" He asks. "Because Daryl. People tend to judge all books by their covers. I like to read the book before I say anything. I know you won't hurt me or be a creep. I trust you." You smile softly at him again, and for a brief moment you could see a small part of his eyes soften.

"You trust me?" He asks, his voice a tone softer then usual. "With my life." Your smile stays unbroken and this was the moment you see him smile, fully smile. "Yer stupid." He chuckles softly and shakes his head looking out in front of him.

"Maybe. But it pays off in this case." You laugh and look to him, taking in all his features. "I'll be right back." You smile to yourself and run inside to grab the Instax camera you found on a run.

You rush back out and sit next to him, putting yourself as close as you can be. You wrap your arm aroun him and hd the camera up. "Smile!" You click the button and the flash goes. You move your arm and pull the picture out, waving it hoping it develops quicker.

"Look." You show him the picture, its you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you. "Ma turn." He takes the camera from you, doing the same as you, putting his arm around you and holding the camera up.

When the picture prints he grabs it and waves it. "Look at us." You smile. "Let me get on of you." You take the camera and point it at him. "Smilee." You say. "don' know how ta smile fer pictures." He says. "Imagine Glenn falling down the stairs." You suggest. He smiles, not at what you suggested, but at you trying to make him smile. You take a picture and grab it.

You smile at the picture you took of him, and you look to him still smiling as he calls your name. Theres a flash, followed by "Daryl!"

"What?" He says. "I could've looked bad and im that I wasn't ready!" You say. "Ya never look bad." He waves the picture in his hand. "You think?" You ask. "If anything I'm the one who looks bad." He looks at he picture in his hands. "See?" He hands you the picture. "Ok I guess its not that bad." You give it back. "Here I'll keep the one of you and the one you took, and you keep the one of me and the one i took." You hand him the other picture.

He puts them in a pocket of his vest. You look at him, his eyes eventually meeting yours, and you can't look away, you see him lean in, a look crossing his face asking for permission. You lean in further connecting your lips with his. "Mind if i spend the night?" He asks. "Not at all." You smile as he kisses you again, moving his arms around you, the same arms that'll be holding you as you drift off to sleep.

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yo what up guys🗣️🗣️

so I have an idea for an angsty pt2 if yall wanna see that, lmk.

don't be afraid to send in requests‼️‼️

peace out luvas see yall later🙌🙌

[lexisecretaccx]

High School Sweethearts pt.5 - Chris Sturniolo

PT1, PT2, PT3, PT4, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, PT10, (rest of the parts on my Masterlist)

(Femreader x Chris Sturniolo, sorta fluffy at the start , finally getting smut and happiness for y/n❤️female!receiving, praising, idk what else)

A/n: I wrote this listening to Melanie Martinez😍 I hope u enjoy the cuteness and happiness because it won’t last long what who said that?😨 I’m totally kidding..👀😅 bit of a slightly longer chapter so y/n and Chris can have a part fully just to them

“It’s a date then.” I smile up at him as we walk through the streets of Boston, “I know a place you will love.” Chris smiles and leads me down an alleyway, “you’re not gonna kill me right?” I joke. He looks back and rolls his eyes, before we come out the other side of the alley and we are near a bunch of stores.

“There.” Chris points across the road at a cute little cafe, ‘J’adore Coffee’ he looks to me for my reaction and I smile as I notice the red and wooden interior through the window.

“Come on!” Chris pulls me across the road and we enter the cafe, there’s satin curtains tied either side of the window, red wallpaper and wooden panels on the wall. It’s decorated with cute circular tables with white table clothes lined with red and hearts. There’s a lot of fake plants and cute portraits of Paris and other things. The front counter has an open glass revealing an arrangement of all sorts of sweet treats, and to the side are sandwiches and warm savoury foods.

On the counter is a cute little chalk board displaying what food items they have available for lunch. “I love it here Chris.” I whisper as I take in the dangling orb lights and vines on the ceiling, the cafe not too busy except for 3 tables which have people sat up to them. “I knew you would.” He smiles down at me.

“May I help you.” A woman asks, directing my attention to her, she was a middle aged lady wearing a red button up short sleeve shirt and a white apron. “Yes, what do you want to get?” Chris asks me smiling. “Could I have the BLT sandwich please?” I ask the lady politely and she nods her head, “of course sweetie, what about you?” She asks Chris.

“I’ll get the maple waffles please.” The lady nods at Chris and he pays “okay would you like to sit down? We can bring it to y’all.” “Okay thank you.” Me and Chris both say before sitting down at a table against the wall. He sits opposite me. “Only a BLT? They have waffles and pancakes here too.”

“Yeah I’m just not too hungry, but a BLT sounded nice.” I lie, smiling reassuringly to Chris, I was kinda hungry I just didn’t want him to spend too much money. “okay, thank you by the way.” He looks into my eyes, his full of adoration. “For what?” I grin, feeling genuine happiness which I haven’t felt in quite sometime.

“For being here with me, letting me take you on a date, you know. I’m glad we met, not tryna be corny or any shit.” He laughs softly, “thank me falling asleep in class, because then I never would’ve been in detention,” I chuckle “but I’m glad we met too and thank you, you didn’t have to pay.”

“Are you kidding? I would spend any amount of money to be able to be on a date with you.” We both laugh, not too loudly as to not disturb the others enjoying their meals. “That was corny right?” Chris asks me awkwardly, I nod and softly giggle as he also laughs.

“Here you are.” A man puts a tray infront of us, with Chris’ waffles, my BLT and a pot of a maple syrup. “Thanks.” Chris says to the man before he walks away.

We eat our food and laugh and talk and Chris leaves a tip before we leave.

“Let me walk you home.” He looks down at me, “okay thank you Chris.” I smile up to him and he returns the gesture. “Walk here,” he moves me to the inside of the sidewalk. “Such a gentleman.” I half joke and he rolls his eyes, “don’t make it weird y/n.” We laugh.

About 10 minutes pass and we are not far from my house, we are both silent but it’s not an awkward silence more of a comforting one, the only noise is our feet on the concrete and some distant cars and birds tweeting overhead. “My mom’s not gonna be home for at least 4 hours.” I sigh, breaking the silence.

“So you can come in, if you want?” The corners of my mouth softly lift, “yeah of course, school should be ending in a few minutes.” Chris replies as we turn down my street. “My house isn’t the biggest, but it’s just me and my mom so you know.” I shrug. “I’m not gonna judge your house y/n, I’m not an asshole.” He puts his arm around my shoulder for me to feel comforted.

“Evan judged my house.” I whisper, Chris looks at me and rolls his eyes, “Evan is a dick, don’t let him judge anything about you.” He reassures me, “thank you Chris.”

We approach my house, I point it out to Chris, “that’s not bad at all! it’s so nice.” He smiles as we walk up the path, “my mom always makes sure the garden and house are tidy, she’s always cleaning whenever she’s not working.” I laugh as I unlock the door. Chris looks around in awe at the neatness and cosyness of my house.

“This is so cosy what the fuck.” Chris sounds almost surprised, “are you surprised?” I ask. “Yeah you made it seem like it was gonna be really bad, I wouldn’t judge you either way but this is so nice.” He smiles to me. “Oh thanks.” I smile back.

“My rooms up here.” I lead him upstairs into my small hallway containing of three doors, my bedroom, my mother’s, and the bathroom. I open my bedroom door and god am I happy that I tidied my room the other night.

“Woah it’s so..” he looks around.. “girly..” he smirks at my pink and white satin bedsheets and pink wallpaper. “What can I say? 10 year old me picked the wallpaper and I wanted my room to match so I made it work, plus it’s cute.” I turn to face him. “It’s so.. what’s that word, that pink word with the bows and shit.” I let out a small giggle. “Coquette?”

“Yeah that’s the one.” We laugh, “you can sit on the bed.” I sit down patting the bed next to me for Chris to sit next to me.

“So..” Chris says. “So?” I reply, the air around us gets slightly awkward as we sit on my bed. We just look at each other for a moment before I break the tension. “Do you want to kiss me?” I ask lowly. Chris’ eyes widen and he smiles leaning into me “yeah, I didn’t know if you wanted it..” he place his hand onto the side of my face, “of course I do.” I whisper before we bring our lips together.

Instantly our lips connect like a perfect puzzle piece, like our lips were supposed to be together. Slowly the kiss turns into more of a make out as Chris’ tongue slowly makes its way into my mouth and I let him take control. We both understood the rhythm perfectly and it felt so right to kiss him.

His hand made its way down to my thigh as he rubs circles on it, I ignore the growing heat between my thighs, a feeling I’m unfamiliar with. The air is full of lust which replaces the once awkwardness that was there.

“Have you ever..” Chris breaks the kiss to look at me, “ever what?” I whisper. He looks down between my legs at back up at me, “if you’re asking if I’ve ever had sex.. then no, I’ve had chances but, they never felt right.” I swallow nervously. “Okay, just wondering,” he smiles reassuringly, “what about.. uh have you ever done anything, to yourself?” He asks me, trying to figure out what I’m comfortable with.

I nod, “yeah.” I breath. “Do you want me to.. I could help you with, becoming more comfortable, only if you want!” He holds my hand and maintains eye contact. Something feels different when I’m around Chris, like I can trust him, like I want him to.. my dream about him a few nights ago is practically gonna become true.

“Yes.” Is all I reply with. His eyes light up, “really? I can use my fingers first, to make sure you’re fully comfortable with me.” He places a kiss to my forehead, I nod “yes.. please.” I smirk, and Chris looks at me, “I’m proud of you.” He whispers.

I wrap my arms around his and he hugs me back.

“I’m gonna remove these, is that okay?” He looks up at me for consent. He puts his hand at the waistband of my sweatpants, “yes Chris, I want this.” I smile, “if you want me to stop anything I’m doing, just say stop and I will listen straight away I promise.” He nods as he looks into my eyes, his blue eyes piercing through my own eyes.

“I trust you.” I assure him, he pulls down my sweatpants and discards them on my floor. Leaving me in my cami top and red panties, “lay back for me?” Chris asks and I do as he says. He looks at me and I nod before he removes the underwear I had on, “so perfect” he whispers as he kisses my collarbone.

“Can you spread your legs for me?” He asks “okay.” I say quietly, trying to contain my excitement. It feels so right to do this with Chris. He rubs a finger over my heat, causing me to shudder from the sudden sensation, he looks up to me for any signs of discomfort but I’m fine, “so wet already.” He smirks at me, planting a kiss on my neck.

“I’m gonna put a finger in okay? Tell me to stop if you want or if you want more I’ll do it for you, I wanna make you feel good.” He whispers against my skin before planting another kiss, “okay.” He smiles before I feel his finger slide into my velvety walls. I throw my head back in a mix of pleasure and satisfaction from a new feeling, his long fingers are finally gonna be fully inside of me.

He slowly pushes it in further and keeps checking my face to make sure I’m good. He starts to pump him finger in and out of my heat as I let out soft breathy moans, “doing so good for me.” He praises. “More..” I mumble, “you sure?” He asks and I nod.

He slips another finger inside of me, stretching me out and causing me to breathe heavier. He starts to fasten his pace, and i bite my lip to suppress my noises, “no need to stop yourself from moaning, you make such pretty noises, nobody is home remember?” He reassures me and I smile before even more pleasure hits me and I arch my back.

“Such a good girl.” He whispers in my ear, which only makes me more wet. I feel a knot in my stomach tightening, I start to clench around his fingers as they curl just right into my g-spot causing me to moan and breathily whimper. “You’re close hm?” He continues his pace and i nod rapidly, holding back my orgasm as I don’t want the pleasure to end.

“Fuck Chris right there.” I moan, “sound so perfect moaning my name..” he plants a kiss on the sweet spot below my ear, causing me to edge closer to my climax, “cum for me baby.”

I don’t think twice before I moan loudly as the knot snaps and my arousal leaks around his fingers, slowing their pace to ride me through my high. He removes his fingers finally and licks them clean. I lay there breathing heavily, Chris lies next to me and turns to me.

“I’m so proud of you.” He smiles, I turn to him and grab his face before kissing him, “thank you, and thank you for..” I exhale “that.” I smile.

“Let me grab a towel to clean you up okay?” He sits up, “bathroom is the door at the end of the hall, not the one opposite because that’s my mom’s room, I say breathily. “Got it.” He leaves the room and I lay there with a feeling of euphoria.

“I wet one of the pink flannels with your name on it from on the shelf, is that okay?” He leans down to clean up my sensitive entrance. “I need to put bleach or pen on it or something so I know which one to not use on my face.” I laugh softly, “why don’t you just cut the label off this one?” He replies as he finishes cleaning me up and opens my top drawer to find underwear for me, “that’s more reasonable yeah.. get out of my underwear drawer Chris.”

I sit up and cover my face in embarrassment, “my fingers were just inside of you and you’re embarrassed about panties, socks and bras?” He laughs and shakes his head and I realise the stupidity of what I just said.

“Thank you, again.” I smile to him.

A/n: omg first smut of the series yass. How cute is this part? I wanted to include some happy moments, I’m not gonna make anything happen between y/n and Chris dw but without spoiling much there will be upcoming moments where u need the tissues.. ily all tho❤️😥

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind

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