#More samples on the way and then I'll be opening them!

[feathersnek]

Elnath 💜 sticky note

[felixbit]

up all night

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader w. 3.9k genre: shameless smut summary: chan is in the studio working late, stressed about a deadline and pushed to his limit. you convince him to take his mind off work. warnings: reader has somewhat implied afab anatomy but no gendered terms/pronouns are used. petnames used: baby, love, honey a/n: making my smut debut with chan! written for the best person ever

As of late, Chan has been in the studio far more often than you'd like.

You knew he was a workaholic when you got into the relationship. He cared about his career, music, and group so much he'd push himself to the brink. He wrote, composed, and produced all of his own music and wouldn't have it any other way. If he wanted success, he needed to make it himself.

It came at a cost, though. You saw the way his mental health would deteriorate around the time of deadlines. He'd spend almost entire days in the studio, perfecting every last word and beat. You watched as he shaped this music from his hands, sculpting them to smooth out every edge and imperfection.

Even Chan was far too aware how bad it was for himself. You'd try to find ways for him to take breaks, always bringing him food and water to keep him going. He'd thank you in a million ways, with words and fond touches but it ended in him going back to work.

When he finally was home, he returned to the kind and gentle boyfriend you knew him to be. Holding you as you fell asleep and buying your order at the local coffee shop before you woke up. He'd make you breakfast in bed when he had the time, writing love notes whenever he had to leave before you woke up.

As it always happened, a new deadline was approaching. Chan often slipped out after schedules to the studio and worked himself down to the bone. You tried your hardest to spend as much time in there with him, even if it was just laying on the couch scrolling your feed. Every little thing helped.

That night, you'd ordered him some takeout but it was eaten long ago. The time on your phone showed it was half past three in the morning and Chan was at it in earnest. Headphones on, replaying samples and tweaking sounds.

You looked over from your phone when you heard him swear under his breath and take his headphones off. Chan let out a long sigh and covered his face with his hands for a moment before looking back down at his work.

"It- it just won't sound like I need it to. It's not right, it's.." Chan rambled into the air.

You got up from the couch and walked behind his chair, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and massaging them with your fingers. "I know, Channie. Is there anything I can do to help you right now?"

"No, I'm sorry," Chan let out a long sigh and smiled up at you weakly, "You being here is enough."

You felt a stirring in your stomach at the sentiment, but you wouldn't give up that easily. "I can't just let you suffer alone here. Do you want to take a break or wrap up for the night?"

"I won't remember how I want it tomorrow. If I give up on this now, there's a chance I never fix it and it goes out sounding wrong. I can't do that."

"Chris," You stopped massaging his shoulders to turn his chair around, looking down at him, "I know you want it perfect. Write it down on a sticky note what you want and take a break. It's gonna be four soon and I'm not letting you spend another all nighter here."

Chan looked up at you curiously before deflating back in his chair. "I mean- are you sure? If I forget, it's gonna be noticeable, and-"

"I'll remind you. I'll put it in my phone and tell you exactly what you need to fix. Here, tell me what it is and I'll write it down. Got it?"

Chan paused for a moment before nodding, allowing you to open your phone before speaking. He gave you the exact timestamps of the song and the strange producer jargon that you couldn't quite make sense of. You wrote it down word-for-word just as he needed it.

"There, it's in here for you later," You recited it back to him and he gave a confirmatory nod, "You're all set for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? I can't be done for the night, there's too much to work on and not enough time. I'm sorry, just another hour. Please?"

You shook your head and set your phone down on the table before sliding into his lap, straddling him in the chair. "You're not working another second on those songs tonight, Chris."

Chan looked up at you a little stunned before a sly smirk crossed his face. "Baby, you know that's not fair to me. I need to work and you're doing something dangerously distracting."

"What are you going to do, then?" You replied back, unable to hold back a grin, "You gonna remove me from your lap to do some boring work instead?"

You could see Chan chew on the inside of his cheek before sighing. "It's not boring, and I really should get back to it.."

"Then you're going to have to remove me yourself, because I'm not moving."

Chan let out a dramatic sigh before his hands moved up the outside of your thighs, resting right next to your hips. "You know damn well I'm not going to do that."

"And why's that, Channie?"

His hands moved over your thighs, giving a light squeeze. "God, you're driving me insane. Coming into the studio every night and making yourself useful at every opportunity.. I wanted so bad to stop just to make you feel good. You deserve that, instead of me working the whole day."

"Your opportunity has finally come, I'm all yours if you want me right now."

Chan chuckled, "You could ask me that a thousand times and I could never say no."

You leaned in to his ear and whispered, "Then make your move."

There was a moment of silence before Chan pulled you in for a kiss, messy and rushed. His hands were all over your thighs, waist, back. He couldn't pick a spot and stick to it, deciding instead everywhere needed to be felt over.

You tried to keep things centered, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. One of your hands played with the curls growing on the back of his head, enjoying the soft feeling through your fingers. It was the only thing keeping you sane.

His hands finally found a place to reside when he hooked them on the hem of your pants, giving light tugs as you felt him squirming under you. Pulling away from the kiss with a grin, you looked down at Chan and his flushed appearance. "So eager.."

"Can you blame me? Now stand up and help me get those off," Chan demanded with a rushed voice, helping get you to your feet as he followed in your footsteps. His usually deft hands were fumbling as he desperately pulled your pants off of you and discarded them to the floor.

Watching him undo his own sweatpants like a madman had you giggling at the sight. "You go one week without any action, and this is how desperate you get?"

"I'm a starved man, honey," Chan's face was red and already had sweat on his brow, "I can't wait any longer, not after all that teasing."

"Teasing? What-"

"Get on the damn couch."

That much was enough to have you laying down on the couch without hesitating. His sweatpants joined yours on the floor, showing off the black boxers he was sporting underneath. A quick glance showed he was pitching an obvious tent.

Although as quick as you were, Chan caught you looking. He raised his brows and laughed, "And I'm the eager one here?"

"You are the eager one here, hardly put your hands on me and you're giving those boxers a run for their money," You responded with your own laugh.

"You little.." Chan shook his head and leaned over you, putting his weight on one forearm on the couch as he kissed you once more. Instead of the fast and desperate pace he had set before, Chan was far slower and delicate. It was almost infuriatingly slow.

You couldn't show how much you wanted him to go faster, that would only prove his point. Instead, he was slowly breaking you down by the second, one arm stabilizing himself and the other hand on your neck, softly stroking your jaw with his thumb.

The waiting game paid off when Chan suddenly took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a small tug before he pulled away. "I can't keep this up. You win. Damn you, I'm eager."

There wasn't time for any words to respond before Chan was back where he was before, sloppy and fast. He kissed down your neck, excessive in his biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. Not expecting it, a sound broke its way out of you.

You did your best not to give in to the rest of his harsh and aggressive kisses down your neck. After a week of downtime, he was making up for it in marking your neck as his own. Nobody was going to know who the perpetrator of the hickeys were later (other than the upset staff), but it was the idea that mattered.

There were bigger problems actively stealing your attention. Namely, the small amount of friction made with him moving ever-so-slightly between your legs. It was easy to ignore at first, but the neck kisses were causing the pleasure parts of your brain to kick into high gear.

With one harsher movement than the rest, you were unable to bite back a small, unfiltered sound that escaped you. Chan broke contact with your red and bruising skin to look up with a grin on his face.

"What was that, love?" Chan's tone was starkly different than before, far more teasing and with a dark edge to his voice that you only recognized coming out in bed.

Attempts to take his attention off of it failed and you were forced to fess up in the moment. "You have to stop moving like that, it's driving me crazy."

"Moving like what?" Chan shifted his legs, slotting his thigh directly between yours and pressing firmly against you. This elicited a frustrated sigh, the feeling too strong to push away.

Upon no immediate response, Chan pushed his thigh forward and forced a fuller, more in-tact moan out of you. "Fine, fine- that. Putting your thigh between my legs. That's the thing that's driving me crazy."

"There you go," Chan's words were sickly doting in a way that made you break at the seams, "What do you want instead?"

With his thigh slotted firmly between your own, finding coherent strings of words was difficult. "Just.. get this underwear off me and use your fingers instead."

Chan smiled, clearly pleased with your answer. He moved his leg out from between yours, relieving the pressure and allowing you to breathe. He sat back on his legs as he removed the last layer of clothing from below your waist, tossing it to the growing pile on the floor.

He nudged himself closer, Chan's hand finding its way to where his thigh was once situated before. His middle finger teased you with a circular motion around your entrance, so close to where you needed it most.

"Chan." You demanded, shooting him a glare.

"Okay, okay. Just admiring how worked up I've got you," Chan smirked before his finger pushed inside, slowly filling you up and drawing out a long sigh. He worked slowly yet decisively, knowing exactly how you like it.

That was one of the things you loved about Chan: he knew your body like the back of his hand. Where you were most sensitive, what drove you wild, how rough you liked him to get. He could push your buttons perfectly, string you up in his words until you were tied up into a nice present for him.

Before you could process the first, Chan had already added a second finger and was growing more confident. He worked his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, not slow enough to leave you wanting more nor fast enough to want to slow down.

"That good, baby?" Chan's eyes met yours, and you saw a different side of him for a moment. The way he sought your approval and made sure everything was right had your heart melting. He had confidence in his abilities, but occasionally needed reassurance.

You nodded eagerly, on the cusp of desperation. "It's good, Channie, you're doing so good," You said between soft moans as his fingers pumped deep, feeling him tease a third and giving him a nod.

The third was always a stretch that had you biting back whines in conjunction to moans, but the feeling was too good to beat. The feeling of being full, on his fingers or otherwise, was what drove you wild.

He kissed you once more, slow and tender as his fingers continued to work. It was hard to keep properly connected, devolving into moaning against his lips with small kisses in between.

"Chris," You said, "Can't wait any longer. Need to have you inside, baby."

Instead of his usual entourage of teasing questions, Chan nodded. He made quick work of his boxers, tossing them haphazardly towards the pile as he moved back to you. He was painfully hard, already leaky and worked up.

"Can I?" He looked down for your reassurance, which came with a nod as he lined himself up. His hips moved forward slowly, feeling him filling you up more by the second. It always took a second to adjust to the size, catching your breath as he bottomed out and waited for your signal.

When you gave him the go-ahead, Chan couldn't help but begin a slow and steady pace. He knew better than to go fast right off the bat- he was a lot to handle. But you could hear him whining softly over top of you and knew he was desperate.

Looking up at him, you cupped his face and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "You can go faster, Chris. You won't hurt me."

You heard Chan let out a breathy laugh before his thrusts grew harsher. Instead of the slow, fluid motion of before; he was faster, precise. Every movement had purpose, each angled just right and hitting the sweet spot.

The sudden adjustment had you whining and letting out louder moans, unable to properly cope. It was overwhelming how good he was at it. All you could do was wrap your hands around the back of his shirt and claw at it helplessly as he had his way.

The fabric getting in the way of your fingers on his skin was beginning to frustrate you. "Off," You managed to get out, "Shirt- off."

Chan grinned, sitting up for a moment and slowing down to a snail's pace to pull his black t-shirt over his head and discard it. You reached up, dragging a hand down his chest and over his abs. Every muscle was yours to touch, to claim.

"You like what you see?" Chan said with a laugh.

Deadpanning, you shook your head. "Shut up."

In a second, he was back over top of you and his pace was back with a new force he didn't have before. It was often he was without clothes, but you weren't under the impression a shirt would be the thing holding him back. Either way, you relished in the fact his back was open to you.

Your nails dug in to his tanned skin, dragging along as he fucked into you steadily. You could hear him sucking air in between his teeth followed by his soft moans. He was always one to endure a little pain.

An idea popped into your head when you thought of before, sitting in the chair in his lap. "Chris, stop for a sec." He immediately halted all movements, looking down at you to make sure everything was alright. "Sit normally, facing the booth."

Chan looked at you perplexed for a moment, but pulled away. He did exactly as you told him to, sitting with his legs spread facing the booth he was just sitting in front of not twenty minutes ago. "What are you planning?" He asked.

You sat up and climbed over to him, straddling his waist with your legs and feeling him hard underneath you. "What I wanted to do to you when I was in your lap earlier."

The realization slowly filled his eyes and a knowing smile returned to his face as he sat back, leaning against the black couch cushion behind him. "Go right ahead."

"If you make me do all the work, we're going to have problems," You glared at him as your hand guided his cock, slowly sinking down on it with a sigh.

Chan's large hands wrapped around your waist, slowly guiding you as you moved up and down. Riding wasn't always the easiest job, and it definitely took some getting used to at the start. Your thighs were slowly building up muscle from the practice.

"God, you're so pretty like that," Chan's voice pulled you from your thoughts, looking down at him to see him smiling up at you. His face was pink and he almost had stars in his eyes.

Seeing just how infatuated he was made your heart race and your face flush, almost forgetting to continue to move. "You're pretty, too."

Your hands were situated on his shoulders to keep steady, but one dragged down and you couldn't resist feeling up his chest a bit. Chan looked up at you smirking again. "Do you ever keep your hands off those?"

Snickering, you pushed down a little harder to see him whine and catch his breath before you responded, "If you're going to keep your clothes off all the time, I'm going to feel up the assets you work so hard on."

"Why do you insist on teasing me all the time? You know what happens when you do that," Chan had a dark look in his eyes that you knew far too well.

Shrugging, you moved your hand up to run through his hair. "Did you ever consider I might like what happens when I tease you?"

"So be it."

Without hesitation, you felt Chan's grip around your waist suddenly tighten. You leaned forward instinctively, both of your hands secured around his shoulders.

He began to thrust up into erratically, fast and without caution or precision. The sound of your skin connecting was obscene, thanking the amount of soundproofing around you as a chorus of moans spilled out of you. Every movement had him deep inside you as you attempted to roll your hips along with him.

"Fuck, Chris," You whined, his pace unrelenting and seeming like he wasn't going to let up any time soon, "Close."

There was a distinctive feeling growing, one you knew too well. The amount of pleasure from every movement was rapidly growing as your body was being overwhelmed. Chan heard you, but didn't stop for a moment. It was almost if it was a sign for him to fuck you faster.

Either way, you were tipping over the edge before you had time to process it, spasming around him as you let you a whorish moan. He slowed down, letting you ride out the high. "That's it, baby," He coaxed, "You got it."

Just as you settled down, you felt him start to work himself into a moderate pace again. Your legs felt shot from your energy levels dipping so you asked, "Do you want to me to move, baby? I don't think I have much in me to keep going right here."

"If it's not comfortable to be right there, of course we can move," Chan said with a smile as he allowed you to reposition to pretty much the same spot you were in before. You laid on your back, Chan coming back over top of you. "That better?"

"Much better," You said with a nod as he went back to the pace he had set before. It wasn't as rough as before your orgasm, but steady enough to keep you whining and your brain somewhat fogged up from the constant pleasure.

Meanwhile, you could see Chan was already getting worked up. His face was redder than usual, his eyes trained on one spot, breathing hard as he kept the effort going to thrust his hips in one continuous pace.

His deep groans and whines had begun to turn into full-fledged moans and swears under his breath. His hands eagerly gripped and kneaded at your waist, seeming like he might accidentally bruise the skin. You were about to open your mouth when he said something.

"Honey, I-" Chan was cut off by his own faltered moan, "I'm close, so fucking close."

You pulled him down to kiss him briefly, keeping his face inches from yours as he continued to erratically thrust. "You don't have to wait, cum for me."

Chan nodded vigorously, his hips snapping back and forth at a speed that had you holding onto the couch for dear life, hearing him let out strained moans and teary-eyed cries as he climbed closer and closer to the top.

All of the sudden, he pushed deep inside you, letting out a gasp and a whine as you felt him come deep inside. His hips stuttered as he slowly rocked them, riding out the high. "Oh my god, that.. that was amazing."

Allowing him a moment to catch his breath, you smiled up at him and gave him another quick kiss. "I've missed you, Chris. I've missed this," You admitted after another silent pause.

Chan nodded, pressing his forehead against yours and sighed. He had finally mellowed out, still buried deep. "I've missed you, too. I'm sorry I haven't been able to do this with you and.. be a good boyfriend."

"No, you're okay. I know how much work matters to you and getting things right means that you see that success you've always wanted. I just always miss you in the times you're working, even if I'm in the same room as you."

"I just feel bad when you're here til way too late at night. Speaking of, what time is it?" Chan slowly pulled out, leaving his mess inside you as he quickly grabbed his phone from the floor, "Oh my god. It's half past four."

Your jaw dropped, standing up quickly as Chan hurried around the room to find something to help you clean up. He settled for his own black t-shirt, telling you he'd just go home shirtless if he had to. Of course it looked terribly stained when you had wiped yourself down, sighing while knowing it probably cost a crazy amount.

Digging through a closet, you found one of Chan's old jacket. Chan was standing shirtless and pacing with the rest of his own clothes on, the defiled shirt balled up in his hand.

"Channie, guess what I found?" You asked with a grin, hiding the jacket behind your back.

Chan looked at you with a nervous smile. "Is it something good? I'm just not super stoked to walk home shirtless at four in the morning.."

You tossed the jacket to him, Chan opting to drop the shirt in his hand before he caught it to not get the filth on it. He happily slid it over his shoulders and zipped it up all the way, picking up the soiled shirt once more.

"Shall we go?" Chan said as he double-checked his pockets and walked towards the studio door.

"We shall."

[imgae-insertshockedgasps-16]

humans are space orcs

imagine someone with chronic joint pain, whose dream their whole lives has been to go to space and meet the aliens and be a scientist and learn

so they look up the requirements as a kid and go "fuck."

they wouldn't make the cut.

their dreams are dashed. hopes ruined. lifelong dre destroyed.

except....

they've never really said a whole lot about their pain. they don't particularly like doctors, and they think that they've been managing just fine, so they never saw the point.

so maybe... maybe if they just don't say anything, they can make it to space.

they spend all of their time training. doing physical therapy exercises so that their joints aren't so loose, soaking up as much scientific and mathematical knowledge as they can, teaching themselves to push through the worst of it in pursuit of their dream.

and they make it.

they make it to space! it was gruelling, tortuous work, but they made it!

their first mission is an exploratory one, with a diverse crew which only has one other human.

they're thrilled.

they have dozens of alien friends and acquaintances. they spend hours learning and researching alien planets and cultures. it's everything they've ever wanted!

but

it's exhausting.

they're in more pain than they've ever been, more frequently than they ever have.

they keep up their exercises as best they can, but even those are often too much.

they smile when asked if they're alright, tell everyone that "i'm fine! just tired."

but they need a break. they can't imagine going or being sent back to earth, this is their home now, with these people, on this ship. but they don't know how much longer they can take this.

one day, on their day off, a fellow researcher comes and knocks on their door.

"are you here?"

"not today islith."

"but we've been called! there are some exciting new discoveries that need further cataloging and investigation, and carlmoth thought you would enjoy the task!"

"i can't today, islith."

"are you ill?"

"...kind of? but i'll be right as rain tomorrow. it's my day off anyhow."

"nonsense! you should go down to medbay!"

"i'm alright, i promise."

"you get out here right this minute or i'll report you to medbay myself!"

"no!" there's a series of crashes and thumps, and then they open the door.

"oh, you look awful. come on, you really must need medbay, what if you're contagious." islith tries to grab them but they shy away.

"i'm not contagious, i promise."

"how can you possibly know that? what if you picked it up from a sample, or, or, garfon has been sick recently! humans can't survive cerian sicknesses-"

"i didn't catch something from garfon, islith," they sigh and open the door wider. "come in and let me explain."

"alright, but if i think you should go to medbay afterwards then i'm taking you there."

"sure, islith."

islith enters, notices the piles of clothes, rumpled bedsheets, the lights are off and the port window shut.

"what's wrong?"

they sigh again, "my body doesn't work like it's meant to, islith."

islith is wildly alarmed, "and you said there was no need for medbay?!? come with me right now and-"

"no! i can't, islith, you don't understand."

"then explain it to me."

"i've... always been this way, although it's gotten worse as i've gotten older. my body, it just isn't built quite right, there's something wrong with it that makes it not work properly and hurt often."

"you're right, i don't understand. why can't you go to medbay?"

"i'd... be thrown off the ship."

"what?!?"

and so they tell islith a story about a young child whose dream was to touch the stars.

"and now, it's too late. i'd get in huge trouble for lying to the government, especially for so long."

"well- but- but humans are so resilient! you hear all the stories!"

"not every human is the same, islith. some of us are born disabled, and some of us get hurt in accidents, just like any other species."

"well, then, well there must be something we can do?"

they look up in shock, "we?"

"of course we, you ridiculous creature," islith said with a fond sigh. "you didn't think i'd leave you to suffer, would you?"

"but, you could get in so much trouble!"

"that's alright, i don't mind. what else are friends for? and, anyway, we don't have to tell your government, we can tell mine."

"but i'll-"

"we don't have any rules like that. any of us who are disabled can still manage in space just fine with the right support, and i bet you could too."

"i- islith- i don't-"

"don't worry, we'll all back you when it comes down to it. you're out teammate, our family. no one on this ship wants to watch you leave because of something you can't control. now come on, let's talk to glidlep in medical, she'll understand."

and for years, things continued on that way, until eventually it was an open secret that the human with the exosuit was disabled and not technically allowed onboard.

and down the line, when nasa found out and was furious, the entire ship and more stood by their side.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Nothing But Your T-Shirt | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One Shot 1.7k

Natasha dares you to steal one of Bucky's shirts during a drunken sleepover. Natasha is definitely up to something, but maybe revealing your secrets isn't such a bad idea...

Warnings: 18+ for language, sleepover antics, fluff, kissing and suggestive situations. Rated F for fluff and T for tower fic.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Wanda opened the door of the penthouse with a squeal of excitement.

"Oh my god, you came! Yay! Come in, come in!" She ushered you inside enthusiastically, a large pina colada in one hand, your fingers in the other.

"Hey," Natasha waved from the comfort of the conversation pit, pillows and blankets draped about.

Pepper emerged from behind the bar with a tray of glasses, snacks and a huge smile. "Hi, how are you? Come and get comfortable."

You'd been an Agent level member of the Avengers for a month now. Accompanying them on a few missions and attending briefings. So when Tony declared it was 'boys night' and he was taking the male contingent to a new restaurant, Pepper had rolled her eyes and insisted that you, Wanda and Natasha join her for cocktails in the penthouse.

You were shocked at being included, but Wanda and Natasha had been so welcoming when you'd joined them for a mission the week before that you managed to tamp down your nerves enough to say yes.

Pepper handed out the drinks and insisted of getting your specific order for both pizza and desert before sitting down and finally looking you over. She was a constant presence when you were in the New York Avengers Tower, powerful and confident, always smartly turned out in heels that rivaled the tower itself in height. And you'd always been too nervous to talk to her.

Suddenly you felt hot under the over sized floor lamps.

"So," Pepper grinned, an uncharacteristic move that had you even further on edge. "Natasha tells me you have a crush on Barnes."

You choked on your drink.

"What?"

"Don't play coy," Natasha purred, I've seen the way you look at him, she winked and you couldn't help but laugh.

Wanda giggled around her straw, nodding in agreement. "You do, you're always fluttering your eyelashes at him.

"I do not!"

"Fine, fine," Pepper held her hands up, "if you're not ready to spill, lets do something else. I got my aesthetician to send me some new facial samples, want to try?"

Natasha looked pointedly over the rim of her glass, "this isn't like the egg thing is it because I don't want to put anything up my-"

"Natasha! No!" Pepper cut her off as she crossed the vast room, "behave, I'll be back soon."

Four more pina coladas and a face mask later, you were a lot more relaxed. Lying on one side of the sofa with your arms behind your head, eyes drifting closed until a foot poked you in the side.

"You sleeping?" Wanda whispered with a giggle.

"I think so," your own giggle bubbled up, inhibitions lowered by the drinks.

"Did you bring pyjamas? I have three guest rooms or we can sleep out here." Pepper's voice was excited, higher pitched than you'd ever heard it, the professional edge gone.

The others had already changed before you arrived, but you'd had to travel across town from your apartment and hadn't exactly wanted to get a cab in your nightwear. Looking at them now they were all so similar, matching even in their differences. All in over sized t-shirts. Pepper's had a joke on about electrons. Wanda's was deep red with 'Avengers Tech Institute' printed on the left side. And you were fairly sure Natasha's belonged to Steve, it fell on her shoulders in such a graceful way, showing off her collarbone. They all looked so effortlessly beautiful and, despite the fact you were over dressed, you wilted again.

It'd been so nice to be included and now you felt different again, outside. They all had their partner's shirts on, and you had…red plaid with a tea stain on.

The silence was loud until Natasha sat up, a cheeky grin appearing as she said, "I dare you to get one of James' t-shirts."

"Nat, no, come on." You could feel embarrassment heating you again. Hadn't they decided to ignore this line of questioning?

"Yes! Do it, do it!" Wanda agreed, jumping up and clapping her hands together.

"Officially I feel like I need to put a stop to this, I can't have you breaking in to someone's private rooms."

Natasha raised an eyebrow and glared at Pepper who rolled her eyes in return.

"But unofficially I'm going to go to the bar and whatever you three do while I'm not looking, isn't my fault." She held her hands up and pointedly turned away while Natasha and Wanda fixed you in their sights.

"I couldn't!"

"You know you want to, you likeeee himmm." Wanda sang obnoxiously, poking you again.

"You can, I'll help you." Natasha said, very seriously, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the elevator and leaving you with no choice.

You should probably have been concerned over just how quickly Natasha managed to break into Barnes' rooms. You couldn't think of him as Bucky, or even James as Natasha called him. Not when you were stood looking at his unmade bed, the clothes on the back of the chair and the wobbling stack of books on his bedside table.

He'd left a cookie and a half drunk cup of coffee on the other side where the pillows were propped up against the headboard and a well worn copy of Lord of the Rings was face down in the sheets.

You'd only been close to Barnes a few times, but he always smelt so wonderful, a heady mix of clean vanilla and spice. Soft and welcoming with some deeper thread that made you want to press your nose into the soft crook of his neck and just inhale.

"Quick, pick something he won't notice is gone." Wanda whispered, pulling drawers open in the dark.

"No, no, this!" Natasha held up Barnes' signature henley, ox blood red and so soft. It had frayed around the neck from wear and the cotton was slightly stretched. He wore it almost constantly, despite Steve buying his a petrol blue one for Christmas.

Natasha closed the lid of his laundry basket again and chucked it over to you.

It had that same vanilla scent and, though it also had a hint of sweat, you couldn't help the urge to press it to your face.

"Come on, put it on." Natasha urged, pulling on your tank top to lift it over your head.

The henley was as soft as it looked and, in the brief moment it covered your face, you allowed yourself the inhale that you craved. Bucky, all Bucky.

Getting it over your boobs proved a slight struggle. But once it was settled it hugged them snuggly, allowing your cleavage to peep through the unbuttoned front. It stretched at the hips too and was oddly flattering when you looked into the mirror by the door.

"That actually really suits you."

Natasha nodded in agreement and then paused, completely still.

"Fuck, quick." She ran for the balcony, dragging Wanda with her and you turned in confusion only to be met with light in the hallway and one Sergeant James Barnes, stood stock still in the doorway of his own bedroom, staring at you.

"Sergeant Barnes I -" you struggled to find an excuse, was there really ever an excuse to break into someones bedroom and try on their clothes? Instead you looked away, wondering whether to rip the henley off and try to find your top instead, or whether to try and escape past him.

He licked his lips and paused, carefully choosing his next words, but your name slipped out, unbidden.

Your eyes snapped up to his.

"That shirt looks good on you," his voice was rough when he spoke, like he was holding something back and your body flushed with heat.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, Natasha -"

He gave a low, dark, laugh.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm sure it's entirely her fault. But you - " He took a step forward and your breath caught in your throat.

"I'll give it back -"

"Please, keep it on." He approached slowly, as if trying to befriend a wild animal that could run at any time.

"I'm sorry -"

He was right in front of you now, still in the suit Tony had insisted he wear, although his bow tie was undone, hanging around his neck, and the first two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, showing a flash of his skin underneath.

"Is Natasha right?" He asked, slowly backing you towards the wall. Each step was calculated. When you staggered back, his left hand curled around your waist to steady you.

"Uhm-" your eyes flicked down to his parted lips and back to his eyes.

"She said she knew a secret, she shared it with me," he watched your every move, carefully leaning you back against his bedroom wall. The hand on your waist tightened, the other toyed with his shirt, still wrapped so closely around your body.

You heaved in a breath and his eyes dropped to your cleavage before lifting to your face. "I'm glad I came back, been dying to see you. Imagine my surprise when I find you all wrapped up in my bedroom like a present."

"Sergeant Barnes," you whimpered and his leg slid between yours, pushing up against you. "What did Natasha tell you?"

"Always so formal, it's okay, I know, you can relax." He bent forwards, nose brushing against your cheek, lips at the shell of your ear.

You let out a shaky breath.

"She told me you have a little crush on me."

It's exactly what you'd imagined she'd said, and yet, the embarrassment was so acute already you thought you might pass out.

"Don't worry," his breath tickled the soft skin behind your ear making goosebumps rise along your arms. "I have a little crush on you too."

You could feel his smile on your cheek when he pressed a kiss there and then his lips were on yours, rough in their excitement, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down towards you, fingers in his hair.

"You can keep the t-shirt," he mumbled against your lips, "but can we lose the pjs?"

You giggled, nodding and broke away only when Wanda and Natasha started banging on the glass, cheering and whooping while you and Bucky smiled, with only eyes for each other.

[v6quewrlds]

&.⠀⠀OFF THE TABLE II⠀⋆⠀JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x single mother!oc. word count⠀⁎⠀10.7k.

series summary⠀⁎⠀in maya's eyes, love has been completely off the table since the birth of her son, miles, six years ago. fate disagrees with maya's point of view, bringing her justin in more ways than one.

author's note⠀⁎⠀updates might be a little slow after this one. listen y'all, if you're from socal don't pay too close attention to the geography. i'm taking reddit's word for a lot of things in addition to the fact that i have zero clue where justin lives and don't care to know. series warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, smut, oc warning [maya atkins], single motherhood, friends with benefits, discussions of guilt, mention of deadbeat dads.

read more⠀⁎⠀justin herbert masterlist⠀⁎⠀previous, next.

"From my point of view, I think there's no harm in fully going for the Latin-Asian fusion thing. That opens your options a bit more flavor-wise." Her client of the month was a struggling upscale sushi bar on Manhattan Beach, and Maya was adamant about bringing in a fresh perspective. She had spent the last week experimenting with recipes that would appeal to the area's diverse palate without alienating the restaurant's existing clientele.

"So with the ceviche dish, we could incorporate some sushi-grade fish and add a twist with some citrus-marinated jalapenos," Maya suggested, her mind fully engrossed in the culinary brainstorming session with her client. Her laptop was open between them, a picture of the dish she had in mind taken on her phone the night before after a late-night cooking session two days prior.

The restaurant owner nodded, his eyes lighting up at the idea. "I like it," he said, scribbling notes down on his own pad. "It's definitely something we could promote during happy hour."

"Exactly," she echoed. "I would even go as far as promoting it alongside one of the signature cocktails we talked about. Something with a bit of heat to match the jalapenos, like a spicy marg or a wasabi cucumber gimlet. Really round out the profile."

The restaurant owner nodded again, scribbling away. Maya felt a buzz of satisfaction at the thought of her idea coming to life. "On the idea of keep the menu fresh, what do you think about rolling out a weekly special?" she asked, her mind racing with possibilities. "You could use local, seasonal ingredients to keep it exciting for repeat customers. The local clientele here is on the wealthier side so most will be open to trying new things."

He nodded enthusiastically. "That's a fantastic idea. I've been looking for a way to keep the menu feeling exclusive without being too stuffy." He leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I'll have to talk to our suppliers, but I think we could definitely make that work."

"Great," she said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I'll draft up a few options for you to consider and send them over tonight. When do you think I'll be able to touch base with your service staff to talk through their concerns and the new menu ideas?"

The owner checked his calendar before looking back up at her. "How does next Friday sound? We're closed between lunch and dinner from 2 to 5 for staff training. That's usually when we go over menu changes, important reservations, that sort of thing."

Maya nodded, scribbling the details in her planner. "I'll make sure to be here. I'll bring the samples for everyone to taste." She stood up, smoothing out her dress pants. "Thank you for your time today, Mr. Castillo. I'll have the menu draft in your inbox by tomorrow."

Mr. Castillo stood as well, extending his hand for a firm shake. "Thank you, Maya. I really can't thank you enough for this. I'm excited to see what the future holds for us here."

Maya walked out into the warm afternoon, heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement as she dug in her purse to locate her keys. The beach was a short walk away, and the salty breeze carried the faint sound of waves and distant laughter. Despite the allure of the ocean, her thoughts remained inland with Miles. She slid into her car and started the engine, the quiet purr echoing in the quiet oceanside streets.

Miles would be wrapping up a playdate at a former preschool classmate's house within the next thirty minutes, leaving her just enough time to set her route to the host home. She pulled up to the house, a tastefully decorated Craftsman-style home in a quiet neighborhood of Culver City. The yard was meticulously maintained, with a row of tulips lining the walkway.

The front door had been left unlocked, the message shared through the playgroup's group chat. She stepped into the living room, the smells of freshly baked cookies and playdough assaulting her nose, reminding her of those late afternoon preschool pickups. The sound of children's laughter grew louder as she approached the backyard. Miles' giggle was unmistakable, a sweet melody that brought a smile to Maya's face.

"Is that slide new?" she asked, sliding the glass door open and stepping onto the wooden deck. The laughter grew louder, and she spotted Miles at the top of the new play structure, his little legs dangling as he waited for his turn to zoom down the slide.

Danielle, the mother hosting the playdate, turned to wave Maya over. "Hey girl! Bryan installed it last week just for today, what do you think?" She asked, her eyes shining with pride.

Maya couldn't help but laugh. "It's amazing, I'm surprised you guys haven't had a line out the door for the neighborhood kids."

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Oh, trust me, we have. We had to set up a schedule so they don't all show up at once."

Maya chuckled, watching Miles slide down with a look of pure joy. "Well, it's definitely worth it," she said, her eyes focused squarely on her son.

"Anything new with you?" Danielle asked as Maya took a seat at the patio table, sipping from the iced tea she had been offered from a tray.

Maya took a moment before responding, contemplating how much to share about her recent romantic developments. She decided on a small nugget of truth. "Just had a good few weeks," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "Work's been busy, but I got out a little bit, flirted, nothing came of it but it was fun."

Danielle's eyes widened with interest. "Flirted? That's a first since, what, Miles' dad?" She leaned in closer, setting her own tea down. "Spill. Who's the lucky guy?"

Maya felt a warmth spread through her body and into her fingertips as they cupped the glass. "It's no one, really," she said, trying to downplay it. "Just a guy I met at a bar. We texted for a bit, but I think he got busy or something. It's whatever."

Danielle leaned back in her chair, studying Maya's expression. "You're holding out on me," she accused playfully. "You've got that look."

Maya couldn't help but laugh. "What look?"

"The look," Danielle insisted, her eyes twinkling. "Did you follow-up with him? Maybe he's just… busy."

Maya took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation at the thought of seeing Justin again. "No, I didn't," she admitted, her voice dropping a notch. "I just… I don't know if I'm ready for all that yet, you know?" She looked at Danielle, her friend's expression one of understanding. "I just feel so out of my depth with all this. He was charming, sweet, but I guess I just wasn't special enough to keep his attention."

Danielle reached out and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "You're more than special enough, Maya," she assured her. "And if he's not giving you the attention you deserve, then he's the one missing out."

Maya nodded, trying to convince herself of that fact. Her thoughts drifted to the previous week's encounter with Justin, his gentle touch, and the way his eyes lit up when they talked about food. She had hoped their casual flirtation could evolve into something more, but the silence following their meeting had been deafening and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

"Should I reach out? Maybe he is just busy and forgot," Maya wondered aloud, her eyes straying to her phone on the patio table.

Danielle gave her a knowing look. "If you want to see him again, just text him. Worst-case scenario, he's busy or not interested. But you'll never know unless you try."

Maya nodded, staring down her phone, chewing her lip, then turning to locate her son in the midst of his play. "Are you gonna do it?" Danielle deadpanned, breaking the silence.

With a deep breath, Maya picked up her phone, tapping her index finger against the back of her case. Then with a sigh, she set it aside. "Maybe later. I've got a shit ton of stuff to get done tonight." She turned her focus back to Miles, who was now engaged in a game of tag with his friends.

"Maya…" Danielle called, her voice cutting through the laughter of the children. "You're not seriously going to leave it like that, are you?"

Maya's eyes snapped back to her friend's, the warmth in them pushing aside the doubt. She took a deep breath, her hand hovering over her phone. Hovering, but not quite making the move to unlock it. "What do I even say?" she asked, the question a whisper.

"Just be you," Danielle said with a soft smile. "You managed to pull him in at the bar, didn't you? A simple 'hey', ask him about his week, maybe throw in a little self-deprecating humor about your crazy work schedule. Keep it light, easy."

"I'll think about it," she mumbled, watching as Miles dodged the grasp of one of his friends with the agility of a seasoned athlete. The way he laughed, carefree and uninhibited, was a stark contrast to the cautious tightening in her chest at the thought of reaching out to Justin.

As the playdate wound down, Maya helped gather the toys scattered around the yard and thanked Danielle for a great afternoon. With Miles in the backseat, she drove home, the quiet hum of the car's engine allowing her thoughts to drift back to the texts, or rather, the lack thereof.

It wasn't until Friday night rolled around that she reconsidered Danielle's advice.

She had decided to treat herself to a quiet solo dinner at a sushi grill, gathering some last minute inspiration to tie the bow on the Manhattan Beach fusion menu. Armed with her notebook and purse, the distant fire from the center grills heated her face from her spot at the hostess stand. The smell of ginger hung thick in the air, and Maya felt her stomach rumble with anticipation.

The walk to the bar was a long one due to the placement of the grills in the direct center. She had picked a spot that was a little less crowded, but still allowed her to observe the flow of the kitchen and the interaction between the staff and customers. As she approached the counter, she noticed one of the two bartenders was busy serving a large group of male patrons. Maya took a moment to appreciate the sleek black and chrome setup of the bar, the way the light reflected off the bottles behind it.

The men standing at the bar stood heads and shoulders above the average patron, their broad shoulders and muscular builds giving them away as being athletes beyond the shadow of a doubt. She shrugged the observation off; the grill was located in a neighborhood popular with pro athletes, so it wasn't unusual to spot a few lingering around the more exclusive spots.

The second bartender, a petite brunette with a bubbly smile, saw her approach and waved her over. "What can I get you started on tonight, love?" she asked.

Maya took a seat and perused the menu. "Just a ginger beer for now. I'm still deciding on food."

The bartender nodded and set to work, the sound of ice clinking against the glass a familiar and comforting melody in the background. As she waited, Maya couldn't help but overhear snippets of the conversation happening a few stools down. One of the men was talking about a game from college. She turned her head to take in the decor of the restaurant, taking in the modern chandeliers and the abstract art on the walls.

It was when she turned back that she saw him staring directly at her. Justin. Every unfathomable inch of him. His hair was shorter than it was when she had met him weeks ago, but that same quiet confidence was there, his eyes the same piercing shade that reflected the light gorgeously. His cheeks flushed a slight pink, and he looked surprised, yet delighted. She felt her eyes widen as they locked gazes.

He stepped away from his group of friends, drowning out their conversation as he approached. "Maya," he said, his voice a low rumble of surprise. "What are the odds?" There was that familiar lean against the bar top, his beer already forming a ring on the sleek surface.

Maya's heart skipped a beat, her hand frozen mid-air as she tried to process his sudden appearance. She gave him a nervous smile, her eyes darting to his friends before returning to him. "Hi, stranger," she said, her voice a little shakier than she had intended.

Justin grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Small world, isn't it?" He leaned closer, eyes drifting over her notebook and beer as he took in the scene before him.

"Yeah," Maya replied, her heart thumping in her chest. "What are you up to?"

"Just having dinner with the guys," Justin said, gesturing to his teammates who had all turned to look at them now, an array of wide smiles and amused glances passing between them.

"Is that what's been keeping you busy? Dinner with the guys?" Maya asked, her voice filled with a teasing lilt. She couldn't help the little thrill that shot through her at the sight of him, the way his eyes held hers, the ease of their conversation.

"I deserve that," he flushed under her teasing. "Actually, I just was in Oregon for a few days handling some…" he paused, licking his lips hesitantly as if carefully choosing his words. "contractual obligations."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "Contractual obligations?" she echoed. "You're not going to tell me you're a CIA agent or something, are you?"

Justin chuckled, his gaze dropping to the floor briefly before returning to hers. "No, nothing that exciting." He didn't provide any additional details, which only served to pique Maya's curiosity further. The bartender returned to take Maya's order, and she requested the chef's special. The petite brunette nodded before heading back to the POS system.

The men from Justin's group continued shooting them glances just behind his back, their whispers and laughs growing louder. "Am I interrupting time with your friends?" she joked, trying to ease the tension between the two of them.

Justin shook his head, his smile unwavering. "Nah, we're gonna be here for another 30 to 45, still waiting on a table." He cleared his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing before he slowly added, "We'll have plenty of time to bond before the season kicks in."

Maya took a sip of her ginger beer, the fizz tickling her nose as she pondered his words. "The season?" she questioned, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. She had no idea what he meant by that, but if the way he eased that detail in told her it was significant.

Justin looked a bit flustered, as if he'd said more than he meant to. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little less sure than before. "I'm an athlete. NFL."

Maya's eyes went wide, the ginger beer almost slipping from her grasp. "Oh," she managed, trying to keep her cool. "Which team?"

"The Chargers," Justin said, his voice a mix of pride and something else she couldn't quite place. He was watching her reaction closely, gauging her interest or perhaps waiting for recognition that didn't come.

She paused before shaking her head with a chuckle. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," Justin said, leaning closer.

Maya took a deep breath and put her ginger beer down. "I have no idea who you are," she admitted, a laugh tumbling from her lips. "I'm not a sports person. But if you say you play for the Chargers, I'll take your word for it."

Justin's expression brightened with a hint of relief, taking another step closer to her. "No big deal. It's just my job," he said with a shrug.

"So, that's why you're so busy…" she hummed with an upwards curl of her lips. "CIA agent moonlighting as a football player."

That drew a genuine laugh from him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Something like that," he responded. She took note of the deep dimple that appeared in his right cheek. The sound of his laughter was infectious and she found herself joining in.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'm pretty busy myself," Maya said, absentmindedly flipping her notebook shut. "One secret for another?" she asked, moving forward when Justin nodded. "I have a son. He keeps me just as busy as I'm sure you are."

Justin's smile faltered for a moment before regaining its former warmth. "That's a big deal," he said, his voice genuine and a little softer than before. "How old is he?"

"He's six," Maya said, her eyes shining with pride. "His name is Miles." She watched Justin's reaction carefully, expecting some sign of disinterest or discomfort, but his expression remained open, curious even.

"Six… first grade?" Justin asked, his gaze holding hers with a gentle curiosity that made her heart flutter. She didn't miss the way his eyes dipped to glance at her hands before releasing a shallow breath at the absence of a wedding ring or even a tan line on her left ring finger.

Maya nodded. "Yeah, he's a handful but worth every second," she said with a warm smile. She felt a sudden need to explain herself, to justify her presence in this bustling bar on a Friday night. "He's with my parents for the weekend, so I have a little free time."

Justin's gaze remained on her, his eyes filled with something she couldn't quite read. "Well, it's good that you get some time for yourself," he said, his hand briefly brushing against hers on the bar.

The urge to explain herself continue to ravage her senses, pushing her to provide another disclaimer. "I really don't want you to feel like I'd be offended if you didn't want to pursue things," Maya spoke quickly, her voice a little shaky. "I know having a kid can be a deal-breaker for some guys. No hard feelings at all. I'd probably feel the same way if our situations were reversed."

Justin's expression grew serious, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her forearm. "Maya, I'm interested. Really interested," he assured her, his voice deep and sincere. "As long as you're single, I'd like to get to know you better."

The tension between them grew thick with anticipation. Maya felt a rush of heat to her face and took a moment to compose herself. "Well, I am single," she murmured, looking away shyly before meeting his gaze again. "But I can't guarantee that I'll have much time to devote to… whatever this might be."

"I get it," Justin said, his voice understanding. "My schedule's pretty packed too. My trip to Oregon was a last-minute Nike thing, and I've got a lot riding on the upcoming season." He took a sip of his drink, looking at her intently over the rim. "I can't say it would be fair for me to start something serious either. Asking for your number at the bar was a bit out of character for me, honestly."

Maya sat up a bit straighter at that revelation. "What do you mean?"

Justin cleared his throat, his voice dropping to a murmur. "It's been a while since I've put myself out there like that." He paused, searching her eyes for understanding, continuing when she nodded. "But I liked talking to you, and I'd like to do it again. Maybe without the pressure of making it into something it's not ready to be? At the very least, I think you're worth sacrificing some sleep over."

Maya felt a stutter of her heart, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So, you're proposing…?"

"We can keep it casual," Justin suggested, his thumb still tracing circles on her arm, sending warm shivers down her spine. "Keep seeing each other, no strings attached, no expectations."

Maya took a deep breath, her eyes searching his. It was a tempting offer, one that whispered sweet nothings into the part of her that had been starving for male companionship for so long. "So… friends with benefits?" she asked, her voice steady despite the racing of her thoughts.

Justin's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, but he met her gaze without faltering. "If that's what you're comfortable with," he said, his voice earnest. "Emphasis on the friends part." A muscular arm bent behind his head to scratch nervously at the back of his head. "I just don't want to miss out on what this might be."

He tapped nervously against his glass bottle, the nervous tick defeating the auditory integrity of the confidence in his voice. Maya took another sip of her ginger beer, her mind racing with possibilities and potential consequences. Her eyes flicked over to the group of towering men who had been watching them, now engaged in their own conversations. She knew what he was asking wasn't typical, but something about the way he spoke, the sincerity in his voice, made her feel like it could work.

"Alright," she finally said, setting her drink down. "Friends with benefits it is. I'll go ahead and let you know that I'm free until Monday morning." There was a haze in Justin's eyes as he digested her words, his hand lingering on her forearm.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his calendar. "Promise I won't make the mistake of leaving this to chance again," he said, looking at her with a determined expression. "How about tomorrow night?"

Maya felt a thrill at his decisiveness, nodding eagerly. "That works for me," she said, watching him tap away at his phone.

Justin looked up, his gaze locking onto hers. "It's a date," he confirmed. "My place or yours?"

Maya's pulse quickened at the prospect of spending the night with him, but she remained cool. "Mine," she said with a nod. "I can send you the address."

Justin nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Text it to me. I'll come over around seven tomorrow night." His words held an air of promise. She nodded, her voice a whisper as she agreed to his plan.

"Justin!" a male voice called out from his group, breaking the intimate moment. He looked over his shoulder, offered a thumbs up, and mouthed "I'll be right there."

Maya felt a twinge of disappointment at the interruption, but she knew this was a public place and he couldn't ignore his friends. "Go ahead," she said, smiling. "Don't keep your team waiting."

"Thank you," he murmured, his hand briefly squeezing her forearm. "I'll text you around five to make sure it's still a good time to come over?"

Maya nodded, trying to keep her excitement in check. "Sounds like a plan," she said, her voice a little too high, a little too cheerful. She welcomed the embrace he offered, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, the strength in his arms, and the beat of his heart against her chest. It had been so long since she'd felt this kind of closeness with someone, and she had to admit, it was intoxicating.

"See you tomorrow?" she asked, her voice thin with a whisper.

"Count on it," he said, his eyes filled with promise. He gave her a final squeeze before letting go, and Maya felt the sudden chill of the cool air in the bar.

Maya watched as Justin walked back to his table, his teammates slapping him on the back as he approached. She couldn't help but feel a bit like she was floating as she finished her ginger beer.

"I might've fucked up," Maya announced the moment the call to her best friend, Brooklyn, connected. She could hear the TV playing in the background and the clatter of kitchenware, but she had to get it off her chest before the excitement overwhelmed her.

"What did you do?" Brooklyn's voice was a mix of amusement and concern.

"Are you alone?" Maya whispered into the phone, her heart racing as she put the phone on speaker and set it down on her bathroom counter.

"Yeah," Brooklyn replied, her voice dropping an octave as she muted the TV.

"Look up Justin Herbert," Maya said, her voice barely a whisper as she paced the bathroom floor. "Tell me if you recognize the face."

"I know what he looks like, quarterback for the Chargers, right?" Brooklyn's voice came back after a few seconds of silence. "What about him?"

Maya leaned against the cool marble countertop, taking a deep breath. "Remember how I said I met a guy at the bar but it didn't go anywhere? That guy is Justin Herbert."

Brooklyn gasped. "You fumbled a quarterback?" she exclaimed. "Maya! Are you just finding this out?"

"Kind of," Maya said, her voice tight. "I ran into him again tonight at this sushi grill. He's actually really sweet, and he seems to be into me…"

"Maya, spit it out!" Brooklyn's voice was a mix of disbelief and excitement. "What happened with him?"

Maya took a deep breath and recounted the evening's events, from the awkward run-in to their unexpected connection, and finally, to the arrangement they'd made. "So, we're doing this friends with benefits thing," she concluded, apprehension coating her words.

Brooklyn was silent for a moment before she burst into laughter. "Girl, you've got to be kidding me," she managed through her giggles. "But seriously, if he's cool with you being a mom and all, and you guys are on the same page, I say go for it. You deserve some fun, and if the sex is good, keep him around; if it sucks, don't."

Maya couldn't help but laugh too, feeling some of her anxiety dissipate. "Thanks, B," she said, rolling her eyes at her friend's blunt advice. "But it's not like it's going to be a regular thing. He's a professional athlete, and I have a kid. We're both busy."

Brooklyn's voice grew serious. "You know what, Maya? Sometimes you just need to let go and enjoy living in the moment. You're a great mom, and you work hard. If this is something that makes you happy without messing with Miles' life, then why not? You deserve a little treat every once in a while."

She felt dazed, her mind playing back the feeling of his eyes on her, his hand squeezing her forearm, the blush that spread across the bridge of his nose and spilled pink across his cheekbones. It was like she'd swallowed a handful of confetti; the colors of their encounter glittering through her thoughts.

"Did you set something up? When are you seeing him?" Brooklyn's question brought Maya back to reality. She checked the time on her phone, realizing that it was already late, nearly midnight. "We're supposed to meet tomorrow night," she replied, chewing her bottom lip.

Brooklyn's voice grew more solemn. "When was the last time you…?" She didn't need to finish the question. Maya knew what she was getting at. It had been a while since she'd been intimate with anyone. Too long, if she was being honest with herself.

She wasn't ready to unearth the various reasons why she hadn't been with anyone since Miles' father. It was a conversation for another time, if it was ever a conversation she was willing to have. "It's been a minute," she admitted, shaky words hinged on a shakier breath.

"I genuinely want you to enjoy yourself tomorrow, My," Brooklyn said, her voice a gentle reminder that she was still listening on the other end of the line. "Just take it slow and make sure you communicate what you want."

Maya nodded, though her friend couldn't see it. "Thanks, B. Love you." They talked a few more minutes before wishing each other off. By the time her head hit the satin pillow, every inch of her was buzzing with anticipation.

The next day at work was a whirlwind of client meetings and brainstorming, leaving little room for her thoughts to stray. Yet, every time she glanced at her phone, she could feel her eyes drifting up to the time, ticking down to their rendezvous.

The clock hit 5PM and just as he promised, a message from Justin popped up on her screen. "Still good for tonight?" he asked. Maya felt butterflies in her stomach, and she quickly typed back, "Still good," she confirmed. "I'll be home from work in a bit." He responded with a few logistics, letting her know he would be stopping by his home before heading over.

If this were a cartoon, Maya would have jumped out of her skin at the chime of the doorbell. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart knocked against her ribcage, and she felt the heat in her cheeks spread down her neck. Her reflection stared back at her, jittery and anxious, in the mirror near the entryway of her home. She took a deep breath, smoothed her hair, and checked her outfit one last time: white linen drawstring pants and a square neck top of the same tone that she had agonized over for much longer than she was ready to admit to anyone.

Time slowed as her eyes swept over her figure in the mirror, taking in her fresh matching manicure and pedicure, hastily done in her bathroom before leaving for her meetings that morning. The doorbell rang again, and she took one more deep breath before heading towards the sound. She opened the door to find Justin standing on her porch, lilies in hand and a boyish smile playing on his lips. His hair was impeccably tame, a touch more gelled than it had been the night before, and he looked fresh from the shower, the smell of soap and cologne wafting towards her.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, holding out the flowers. "Thought they'd be nice."

Maya's eyes widened as she reached a hand forward to accept the bouquet, feeling the soft petals against her fingertips. "They're beautiful, thank you," she murmured, her cheeks growing even warmer as she stepped aside to let him in. "Come in."

Justin walked in, his presence filling the room with a sense of excitement and nerves. He looked around, nodding in approval at the cozy yet elegant decor of her home. "Shoes off?" he questioned, quick to notice the wooden shoe rack by the door.

"Yes, please," Maya said, lifting the bouquet to her nose, inhaling deeply as her eyes fluttered shut. When brown eyes met pale green, she couldn't help mirroring the shy smile that grew on Justin's face. They both knew what tonight was about, but the gesture felt sweet, almost too tender for what they had agreed to. She led him into the living room, the soft glow of the pendant lights casting shadows across his broad shoulders.

"Lilies," she hummed out, searching for a vase in her kitchen as Justin followed her, his eyes taking in her home with curiosity. She filled a clear vase with water and placed the flowers in the center of her kitchen island.

"I wasn't sure if you had a preference," Justin said, leaning against the counter as he watched Maya arrange the lilies. His voice was smooth, like a high-grade dark liquor, resonating in her chest and running through her veins like warm honey. She swallowed, her throat dry, and turned to face him.

"Magnolias are my favorite," she responded, opening a drawer to find her kitchen scissors, a navy blue pair that perfectly matched the accents scattered around the room. "But lilies are a close second. Thank you. They're gorgeous."

Justin took a step closer, his gaze dropping to her mouth, then back up to meet her eyes. "You're welcome." His voice was low, movements slow as he moved to stand just behind her. As she set down each flower after trimming the stems, he placed them in the vase, his large hands gently peeling open the petals that had folded in on themselves.

Maya felt his body heat radiating against her back, and she could hear the soft thud of his heart in her own chest. She snipped the last stem at an angle, handing it to Justin, her fingertips brushing against his. He took the final lily and placed it in the vase, stepping back to admire their combined effort.

"Nice work," he spoke softly. "Fits with the vibe of your place."

Maya set the scissors down in the sink. "Thank you," she murmured, feeling the weight of the moment settle over them like a warm blanket.

"How long have you been out here?" he asked, stepping away to lean against the island. His arms crossed over his chest, accenting the muscles beneath his shirt. They strained against the plain black t-shirt, discipline from his training evident in every line of his body.

"In Culver?" she clarified, feeling her back straighten as she leaned against the sink. "Two years now. I've lived in LA County my whole life, can't imagine living anywhere else." She turned to face him, her eyes tracing over the lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, and the way his eyes seemed to darken under the dim light the longer they stood there.

"It's a good spot," Justin agreed, his voice still a soft rumble. "Quiet, but not too far from the action." His eyes searched hers, a silent question hanging in the air. Maya felt the tension build, a delicious cocktail of nerves and desire.

"I'm assuming you're out near the beaches somewhere?" Maya asked, her hands nervously rubbing her arms. The question was innocent, but she felt the urge to fill the silence that stretched out between them.

"Hidden Hills, actually," he spoke up, his eyes finally taking her full figure in. "It's quieter, more private, close to the mountains." Each word grew successively lower, dripping in a tone that suggested although he was more than happy to discuss his living situation, there was something else on his mind.

Maya felt the air thicken. "It sounds beautiful," she managed, the words clipped and breathy as his hands found her arms. He removed her hands from her skin, drawing her closer to his body. There was a gratifying magnetism to his touch, a force that made her knees weak.

A hand found her waist, the touch electric, sending a shockwave through Maya's core. She stepped closer to him, feeling the warmth of his breath against her cheek. "It is," he responded, the words falling from his lips nonchalantly.

Her head tilted back to take in the full view of him, the soft light from the pendant lights above highlighting his features. Justin's hand slid from her waist to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against her pulse point as his eyes searched hers. "So beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm and sweet.

The moment was charged, the air around them crackling with the unspoken understanding of what was about to happen. Maya felt a flutter in her stomach, a mix of anticipation and nerves that she hadn't felt in a long time. She stepped closer to him, chest to chest. His hand tightened around her neck, angling her head just right as he leaned in. Just before their lips met, he asked a question, clementine sweet and a little shy, "Can I kiss you?"

Maya's breath caught in her throat. The brief handful of seconds between the question and her response seemed to stretch on for hours. Then, she nodded, her eyes fluttering shut as his lips met hers. The kiss was gentle, soft exploration that enveloped her lips in supple warmth. She leaned into him, her hands finding his biceps, feeling the power beneath her fingertips. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, as if he had no where else to be. It was just them, in her kitchen, the scent of the fresh lilies mingling with the lingering aroma of his cologne filling her senses and making her head spin.

The hand cupping her face guided her into a more passionate kiss, his other arm wrapping around her waist to pull her closer. Maya melted into him, the heat of his body enveloping her, making her forget the exhaustion of the day. He kissed her as if her starving, as if he had been waiting for this moment since the moment they met. His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue slipping past her teeth to tango with hers. She whimpered softly, her hands roaming from his arms to his chest, feeling the contours of his muscles.

Breaking the kiss, there was a brief pause before she laughed. Slow and soft as her head bowed forward to hide the smile that was growing across her face.

"It's been a long time," she eventually confessed, meeting his gaze again.

"Would you believe me if I said the same?" Justin's voice was low, the question a gentle tease, as he brushed his thumb across her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. The admission hung in the air, stretching the moment out into something more intimate than it had been before.

"No," she chuckled, her arms draping over his neck, releasing an involuntary sigh as both of his hands held her waist tightly, pressing her closer to him. "But I appreciate the attempt to make me feel better."

"Save your compliments until after," he responded with that bashful smile of is. His head dipped to kiss along her neck, hands hovering over the curve of her ass, not quite touching but the promise was there. He was giving her control, making her feel desired without overstepping, and Maya appreciated it more than he knew. "Might disappoint you."

Maya's laugh was light and airy, the sound of it filling the kitchen. "I doubt that." She leaned back into his touch, her eyes closing as his mouth worked its magic. His mouth rediscovered hers, the kiss deepening and growing more heated. Her head tilted back to give him better access, the feeling of his kisses setting her skin on fire.

Justin's hands moved from her waist to her hips, his thumbs gently digging into her skin as he lifted her onto the counter. The coolness of the marble sent a shiver down her spine, her legs wrapping around his waist as the kiss grew more intense. His kisses grew more demanding, his tongue caressing hers, tasting and exploring every part of her mouth. Maya's hands slid down to his chest, her nails lightly scoring the fabric of his shirt.

Maya felt her heart racing, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Justin's kisses grew more urgent. He paused, his eyes searching hers for consent. She nodded, unable to speak, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He took this as his cue and leaned back in, his teeth grazing her neck, slipping the strap of her top down her shoulder as his kisses trailed down to her collarbone. She let out a small moan, her hands fisting in his hair as she tried to hold onto something solid in the storm of sensations.

His hands roamed up her sides, feeling the softness of her skin, the heat of her body. He squeezed her hips, cursing under his breath before he leaned back into her, pulling the top over her head and capturing her mouth again. "Bedroom," she said between kisses before pulling back to catch her breath.

Their eyes locked for a moment, the air thick with desire. He nodded, lifting her off the counter with ease. She wrapped her legs around his waist, his strong arms supporting her as they stumbled through her house, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Where am I going?" he laughed upon the realization that he had no clue which way was which in her space. She reciprocated his amusement, pecking his lips one more time before tapping his hand, delighted as he took the nonverbal hint to set her down.

Maya led him through the dimly lit hallway, the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears. They reached her bedroom, a soft oasis of white and grey tones, the king-sized bed dressed in silk sheets that matched the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze from the open window.

"You're stunning," Justin murmured, his eyes drinking in the sight of Maya standing before him in her bra and linen pants. She took a seat at the edge of her bed, crossing her legs, watching him as he took off his shirt. His abdomen was a washboard of muscles, each one defined and rippling as he moved. She felt a surge of desire that was almost overwhelming.

His hands parted her legs, providing space to accommodate his larger frame as he knelt between them. Maya's eyes traveled down his body, her gaze lingering on the waistband of his pants. Justin caught her stare and chuckled, placing a warm kiss to her cheek. "Patience," he whispered, his hand finding the back of her neck to draw her back into a kiss. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, his eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he kissed her again, pressing her back into the mattress.

"I wanna know what you like," Justin murmured against her ear, his breath warm and tickling her skin. His hands began to explore her body, his fingertips dancing along the edges of her bra and the waistband of her pants. Maya felt a shiver run down her spine, her body responding to his touch. "You'll tell me what's working and what's not, yeah?"

"Mmhmm," she mumbled, nodding as her eyes fluttering closed. She felt his hands move to her bra clasp, deftly unhooking it, allowing her breasts to spill out into his waiting hands. He took his time, teasing her sensitive nipples before his mouth followed, suckling and nipping, making her back arch off the bed.

Maya's breath grew ragged as she felt Justin's hand slide down the front of her pants, his thumb brushing against her clit over the fabric. She gripped the bedsheets tightly, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it was a futile effort. His touch burned into her skin as he drew the pants down her legs, dropping them where he had disposed of her bra moments before.

"Justin," she whispered his name, a plea and a warning. He looked up at her, before leaning over her, trailing slow kisses from the top of her breasts down the center of her chest, over the small roll of her stomach, and down to her navel. He kissed her gently, a silent promise that he'd take care of her, that he'd make her feel good.

Maya's body responded to his touch, her legs instinctively spreading wider. He kissed along her inner thighs, the anticipation making her quiver. His hands creeped up her thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed as his mouth hovered just above her panties. She felt him inhale deeply, a subtle groan escaping him as if her scent was intoxicating. The fabric was the only barrier between them now, and the heat of his breath made it clear that he was more than ready to take things further.

Maya felt exposed, vulnerable, but his gaze was nothing but adoration and hunger. Justin took his time, kissing along the soft skin leading to her core, making her squirm and whimper with need. His touch was light, feathering over her most sensitive spots, building the anticipation to a crescendo.

Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she sighed and squirmed underneath him. Justin took the cue and began to kiss her through her underwear, the touch of his lips brushing featherlight against her, making her toes curl. "Oh," she breathed out, the sound muffled by her hand. He looked up at her, a smug smile playing on his lips before he hooked his fingers into the fabric and slid it off her.

The coolness of the air hit her skin and she shivered, but it was quickly forgotten as Justin's warm mouth replaced it. His tongue found her folds, flattening and exploring, making her body tighten with pleasure. He was gentle but insistent, slow but deliberate as he indulged in his first tastes of her. Maya's hand fell away from her mouth, and she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles tight as she moaned his name.

His thumbs parted her folds, giving him better access to her clit, and he began to circle it with the tip of his tongue. Maya's hips rolled upward, urging him closer, her thighs tightening around his shoulders. Justin took his cue, increasing the pressure and speed, his tongue flicking and stroking her sensitive nub as Maya's breaths grew erratic.

"Shit," Maya hissed through gritted teeth, the sensation of his tongue on her clit was almost too intense. Her legs trembled, and she felt like she could come at any moment. Justin seemed to sense her urgency, his movements becoming more purposeful, his tongue pressing harder and faster against her swollen nub.

"Talk to me, Maya," Justin rasped, his voice thick with need as he continued to pleasure her. His arms wound around her thighs, keeping her in place as he feasted on her. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her moans to a whisper, not wanting to be too loud. Her hands found his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as she directed him to the exact spot that sent shockwaves through her body.

"So good, Justin, so good," Maya breathed, her eyes squeezed shut as pleasure began to coil tightly within her. The warmth of his breath, the wetness of his tongue, it was all too much and yet not enough.

Justin took her words as encouragement, his tongue swirling and flicking over her clit with newfound vigor. He could feel her body tense, her legs shaking. His hands gripped her hips, holding her still as she began to buck against his mouth. Though he could sense she was close, he could tell she need a bit more to send her over the edge.

"What do you need, baby?" Justin murmured against her, his voice gruff with desire.

"Your hands," she whispered, her voice shaky. "Use your hands, please."

Justin's eyes gleamed with understanding as he slid one hand up her body, his thumb tracing circles around her clit as he inserted two fingers into her, stretching her and curling them in a way that had her hips jerking up to meet him. Maya's eyes rolled back in her head, a long, low moan escaping her as he found that magical spot deep within her. The hand she had embedded in his hair gripped the strands tighter, her other hand gripped the sheets next to her head as she arched her back, pushing herself closer to him.

"Mmm, sweetest thing," Justin murmured as he began to pump his fingers in and out of her, stroking her in time with his tongue. He could feel her getting wetter, her muscles tightening around his fingers as she grew closer to climax. Maya's moans grew louder, and she threw her head back, her body shaking as she lost control.

"There you go, so beautiful," Justin murmured, his voice a gentle rumble against her thighs as he watched Maya's orgasm crash over her. Her body tensed, then released, a gush of wetness coating his hand as she rode out her peak. Maya's mouth fell open, and she stared down at him with a mix of shock and pleasure. He took his time, his tongue and fingers moving in tandem, ensuring that she felt every ounce of her climax before finally pulling back after she had gone slack with satisfaction.

He kissed a path back up her stomach, her breasts, and her neck before finally claiming her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Thank you," she murmured against his mouth, her voice hoarse from her moans. "Fuck, thank you so much."

Justin chuckled, his eyes bright with amusement and arousal. "I should be the one thanking you," he said, his voice a low growl as he positioned himself at her entrance. "You taste incredible."

She breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath as she watched him fumble in his pockets for a condom. He pulled out a black foil packet and ripped it open with his teeth, rolling it on with a confidence that made her stomach flip. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle, and Maya nodded, still floating on the aftershocks of her climax.

"I'm glad you had one, I'm sure mine are expired," she laughed nervously as she watched him sheath himself, the mood lightening slightly. Justin leaned in to kiss her again, his hand resting on her cheek. The kiss was tender, contrasting with the passionate, desperate one from moments ago. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock pressing against her wet folds.

"Stopped by CVS on my way over," he chuckled against her lips as the head of his cock swept through her folds, teasing her. "Think the guy at self checkout nearly recognized me," he whispered, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Maya couldn't help but giggle, the tension in the room dissipating slightly as she felt the warmth of his skin pressing against her own. "Well, I'm grateful for your preparedness," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt him nudge against her entrance.

Justin took a moment to appreciate the feel of her, the slickness of her arousal coating his tip. He pushed in gently, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. Maya's eyes went wide, and she took a deep breath, but she nodded her consent. He pushed in further, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. He stilled, giving her time to adjust to his size.

Mirrored sighs passed through parted lips as she adjusted to the fullness of him. Justin's gaze remained fixed on hers, a silent question in his eyes. Maya nodded again, and he began to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm that had her gasping. The initial stretch gave way to a warm, delicious friction that had her breathing out slow and deep. He was mindful of her comfort, his strokes deep and deliberate, each one hitting that spot she hadn't realized she'd been craving.

Her body began to respond, hips moving in sync with his, the quiet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room. "God, yes," she purred as she held his face in her hands, her lips brushing against his before taking his bottom lip in a gentle nip. Justin's eyes darkened, and he picked up the pace, his hips moving faster, his cock driving into her with purpose.

Their breathing grew ragged, their kisses sloppy with passion as they lost themselves in each other. Maya's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on as the tension within her began to build once more. "Deeper, please," she whispered, her back arching as he hit her sweet spot.

Justin's muscles flexed as he complied, shifting his weight to press her further into the mattress. She released a strangled moan that sent a jolt of pleasure through him. He could feel the tightness of her pussy, her walls contracting around his cock as she grew closer to another orgasm. His own desire was mounting, his balls drawing up tight, but he was determined to make sure she came again before he allowed himself the release he desperately craved.

His nose nudged against hers, foreheads touching as their eyes locked, the air thick with desire. "You take me so well," he murmured, his voice strained with effort as he held back his own climax. She nodded, her hands roaming his back, her nails digging in as he pushed deeper into her gaining a steady rhythm that had her crying out.

"Feel so good around me, squeeze me just right… fuck, you're so tight," Justin groaned into Maya's ear. Maya's eyes squeezed shut tighter, her orgasm building again. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed this, the feeling of being filled by someone who knew what they were doing. If she wasn't so caught up in the moment, she might've felt a twinge of embarrassment at how pathetic she sounded. But she didn't care; all she cared about was the delicious pressure building in her core, the way Justin's cock hit her in just the right spot, the way his muscles and warm skin felt under her fingertips as she clung to him for dear life.

"Don't stop, please don't stop." She whispered, voice trailing off with a moan. He watched her face, her eyes scrunched up in pleasure, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. He leaned in, taking her mouth in another bruising kiss, his hips snapping into her with a ferocity that had her gasping for air. Maya felt the second orgasm wash over her, her body tightening around him, her nails digging into his back.

Justin could feel her pussy pulsing around his cock, the sensation so intense that he had to bite back a groan. He waited for her to come down from her peak before he allowed himself to let go, his hips moving faster, harder, until he couldn't hold back anymore. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on his bottom lip as he came, his body shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment they sat in the stillness, panting and sticky with sweat, their hearts racing in sync. When he pulled out, Maya made a small sound of protest, the feeling of emptiness sudden and surprising. He kissed her neck gently, his breath warm against her skin. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

Maya nodded, savoring the feeling of his weight on her. "Perfect," she murmured, her voice hoarse from the moans and cries that had filled the room. She felt him shift, his body sliding off hers, and she reluctantly opened her eyes to find him standing beside the bed, disposing of the condom.

He turned back to her with a soft smile, "Bathroom?"

Maya nodded, "Through that door, to the left."

While Justin was in the bathroom, she couldn't help but replay the last few moments in her mind. The way his muscles had tensed with his release, the sound of his grunts of pleasure, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress—it was all so overwhelmingly perfect. She took a deep breath and decided to use the time to collect herself before he returned. She stood up from the bed, groaning at the ache between her legs, and walked to the bedside drawer to grab an old t-shirt, deciding to hold on pulling on a clean pair of underwear until her own trip to the bathroom.

When he came back out, Maya was lying on the bed, her legs drawn up to her chest, the shirt riding up to expose her smooth, brown skin. She felt a bit shy now that the haze of passion had lifted slightly. Justin leaned over the bed, planting a kiss on her forehead. "So, about those compliments…"

Maya couldn't help but laugh, full, bright, and warm, pulling him down towards her for a peck. "The compliments still stand. It was really good." Her giggles continued as he flushed under her gaze, bashful but pleased.

She stood from the bed, heading off to the bathroom to clean up. When she returned, Justin's back faced her, muscles beneath sun-tanned skin flexing with the effort of pulling his discarded shirt over his head. "What are you up to for the rest of the night?" Justin asked, glancing over his shoulder as he moved to zip and button his pants.

Maya shrugged. She felt a sudden shyness wash over her. It had been so long since she'd had a one-night stand, and she didn't quite know the protocol for what came next. Was she supposed to kick him out? Rush him toward the door and pretend it was nothing more than a good lay? Or was she allowed to enjoy his company a little longer? Offer him to stay the night?

If the way he seemed to move in slow motion as he zipped up his pants was any indication, Justin had noticed the hesitance in her tone and the indecision in her gait. He turned to face her fully, the question in his eyes mirroring the one in hers. "Tell what you're thinking," he spoke, the rumble of his voice cutting through the quiet of the room.

Maya took a deep breath. "I don't know if this is how these things usually go," she admitted, playing with the hem of her shirt as she leaned against the doorway of the bathroom. "But, I had a really great time tonight. And, like you said last night, I do think we could be really good friends. Even with the other stuff."

He stepped closer, reaching out to take her hand. "So tell me your plans for tonight. Friends hang out, right?" Justin's eyes searched hers, hopeful but not pushy.

"Well," she exhaled, trying to ignore the way her heart raced at the thought of spending more time with him. "I've had a recipe bouncing around in my head for a client I'm working with. I could use some fresh eyes, and a taste-tester." She bit her lip, watching his reaction closely.

Justin's smile grew wider. "I'd love to help," he said, genuine interest lighting up his eyes. "Did you think I'd turn down a meal?" He laced his fingers with hers and gave her hand a gentle tug. "Lead the way, chef."

If she were a few shades lighter, the warmth in Maya's cheeks would have been glaringly obvious as she led Justin to the kitchen. She hadn't had anyone in her kitchen, not like this, for what felt like an eternity. It was her sanctuary, where she poured her love and passion, and now, she was sharing it with someone who had the power to dismantle the walls she'd built around her heart. There was a strange comfort in the simplicity of it all, though—just two people sitting in the aftermath of the afterglow. It felt almost domestic.

Wide eyes watched as Justin lifted a bite of the upscale plate, Maya's twist on her grandmother's oxtail stew recipe, to his lips. She'd been nervous about serving something so personal to a man she'd only just met, but the way he savored each bite told her she'd hit the mark. She couldn't help the pride that swelled in her chest as he nodded in approval, swiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "This is incredible, Maya. Really good."

The smile that broke out on Maya's face was a mix of relief and satisfaction. She watched as Justin took another bite, his eyes closing in appreciation. "Thank you," she said, feeling a bit more at ease now. "It's based on my grandmother's recipe. I've been playing around with it for a new client."

Justin continued chewing, slightly amused by the way she retrieved a notebook from one of the island drawers. She flipped the small black cover open, sorted through the pages filled with neat rows of notes, and scribbled something down. "Ah, the notebook," he teased, taking a sip of the freshly made mango-passionfruit juice she'd blended together.

"The notebook," she echoed with a chuckle, "This is my bible. It's where I keep all my thoughts, notes, and inspirations for my work." Maya looked at the notebook with affection before setting it aside, focusing her gaze back on Justin. "So, tell me, what do you think needs to be tweaked?"

He pondered for a moment, swirling the juice in his glass before taking another sip. "I don't know," he said honestly with a laugh and a shrug. "It's perfect, really."

"Okay, I guess I could ask specifics," Maya said with a smile. "What do you think about the balance of flavors? When does the spice kick in for you?"

"The flavors are spot on," Justin replied, his eyes sparkling with delight. "The spice is a slow burn, which I like. It doesn't overpower the other seasoning." He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "But, if you're looking for something to tweak, maybe just a hint more of thyme."

"You don't even know what that means, do you?" Maya teased, raising an eyebrow.

Justin chuckled, setting his fork down. "No comment," he said, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "But seriously, Maya, this is amazing."

Her laughter filled the kitchen, the sound bouncing off the gleaming countertops and stainless steel appliances. "Well, I'm happy to hear that," she said, her heart swelling with pride. "Maybe we can make this a regular thing. You can be my taste-tester."

"I'd be happy to help," Justin said with a grin. He casted a glance to his Apple Watch. "But, I gotta head out. Got some early morning training I can't miss." He stood up, stretching his tall frame, his muscles rippling under his shirt.

"It's getting late," she echoed. "How long's your drive?"

"Not too bad," he said, brushing a hand through his hair. "But I've got to get going if I want to get some decent rest."

She walked him to the door, feeling the cool night air sneak in as he stepped out onto the porch. He turned to her, his hand resting on the doorframe, and for a moment, Maya watch the conflict play out on his face—desire to stay, responsibility to go. "I had a great time tonight, Maya," he murmured, his eyes holding hers in a way that made her knees weak.

"Me too," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and the hope of future moments. Justin leaned in, capturing her in another kiss, tenderly giving into a brief second of abandon before pulling back. "I'll text you," he promised, the words lingering in the air as he took a hesitant step back.

"That sounds familiar," she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as a good-natured smile tugged at her lips.

Justin chuckled, that deep, round dimple in his cheek resurfacing. "Deserved again." He propped his forearm above her head, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes tracing the lines of her face as her head tilted back to properly take him in. "But I promise, I won't be the one to fuck this up again. I'll text you first. I swear."

Maya's smile grew into a grin, the warmth of his body radiating against her as they shared the small space. "I'm holding you to that," she murmured.

Then there was a lull. Justin made no effort to turn around, unlock his car, and leave. Instead, he remained where he was, his eyes locked onto Maya's. It stretched on forever; this silent conversation passing in between dilated pupils and shallow breaths. From this angle, where Justin towered over her, Maya could see the slight stubble on his chin, the way the moon cast shadows on his cheekbones, the softness of his lips that had just been on hers. There was a pull to him, a gravitational force that she hadn't felt in so long, and she found herself leaning in for just one more taste.

She swore it would be quick. Just one more kiss to hold her over until they saw each other again. But as soon as their lips met, she felt everything all over again. The heat of his skin, the softness of his mouth, the way he tasted like a drug. It was addictive, this rush of sensation, a hit to the system that made her heart knock against her ribs. Her hands curled into his hair, his touch pressed into her waist.

One more kiss was never going to be enough.

She was obsessed.

[uniquethingtastemaker]

I've been working on a series called "Dreaming of You.” The premise is that when you jump into the romantic interest’s dream in Chapter 7, you’re there as their significant other

This is an update to this post, since much has changed! I'll add my writing status for them. I'll also include some samples for the ones I've been writing for. I'll put this on the Masterlist for everyone to see as I update it!

Another aspect that will be included in this series is showing how each love interest fell in love with Reader in the real world. This is usually formatted as a few flashback scenes from his POV, but some of them are special

(The writing status list from beginning to end is [Concept-> Idea-> Outline-> Writing])

Riddle — [writing. currently 24k, closest to done] Spicy! However, the focus is on character development. Multiple panic attacks with comfort (what can I say? the man is unstable). Lots of screaming from the cast. Riddle learns affection. Samples: Spicy! Hilarious. Serious. Deep.

Trey — [concept] Vague, but supporting Trey in Riddle's dream is what I want. Parent couple.

Cater — [outlining/writing. suspected to be 30-40k] Angst with comfort (gut-wrenching. the type where you have to pause, get up, and hold your head because your heart hurts. Don't worry, there's comfort!! A lot of it. that's why it's so long). Character deep dive and analysis. Peeling back Cater's mask to find insecurity, pessimism, low self-esteem, and more. He gets the attention and love he deserves. Still funny. It can't all be dark

Deuce — [idea] If Azul’s dream is most embarrassing in canon, Deuce’s is the most ridiculous in this series. I love him, but he can be so unobservant at times.

Leona — [concept] Leona's not happy in his dream... Idk what's going to happen, but it's going to be angst with a happy ending. (It's not like Cater's. That one can sneak up on you. This one is obvious depression)

Azul — [writing. currently 10k] Despite the cringe context, Azul is a good and dedicated boyfriend. Money's on the mind even in his dreams. MVP Floyd (it's a delight). Business power couple (be scared, run away). A few deeply (often unwillingly) vulnerable scenes with Azul due to outside circumstances. Reader swoops in to save the day, Azul style. Samples: Hilarious

Jade — [idea] He likes you the best, and it shows. You encourage crime.

Floyd — [idea] He missed you, and it shows. Gets angry and upset when he first sees you. Then, he figures out you're the fun Shrimpy and glomps you.

Kalim -- [idea/outlining] Kalim gets help in the real world! Yay! He acquired more self-sufficient skills. (You helped him, but didn't become his parent... Lilia became his dad, though lol) Unexpected intro to dream, but makes way too much sense once you think about it. He's surrounded by too many competent people, including himself, surprisingly (we like character growth here). It's a problem... Kalim has really good intuition

Vil — [outlining/writing] Chill Reader (Vil needs someone a little calmer than himself). Vil loves physical affection. Envy moment! Then, he immediately regrets something, like in canon. Open mouthed, can't breathe, gasping sobs from Vil. Slowly feeling out the new relationship.

Rook — [concept/idea] Rook usually takes a spectator role. It's not too different in his dream. Just a little more involved in Reader's happiness. A lot is unclear for this one

Idia — [idea/outline] "My family saw my search history and crush. Now I have to work with my target LI to defeat the ultimate boss, but my family and their company keep trying to wingman me," the fanfic. I love the Reader in this one. It's so funny

Malleus — [concept] Ace uses his unique magic on Malleus to put him to sleep. Unclear about the content

Silver — [idea/outline/writing? unclear. it's been through phases] Soft Silver. Helping the Diasomnia crew with their fundamental problems (Malleus-> Time management, Silver-> Narcolepsy accommodations, Sebek-> Racism). Getting Lilia's approval. Intense fight scene (it's so good. so tense, but so good). Sample: get wrecked sebek

Sebek — [idea/outlining] Reader schools Sebek, then chooses him over anyone else to confide in and trust (this is so important for him. I could do a whole analysis about this, but not here). Tactician Reader! (Sebek needs a strong leader figure, let's be honest) Multiple near-death experiences (was not expecting it to be this intense). Sebek steps up and does the right thing to protect Reader. Sweet relationship. Sebek is a little shy. Rollercoaster of emotions. It's intense

What do you think? Who are you excited for?! Leave it in the comments. It motivates me. Do you see how long my fanfics tend to be? I work hard lol. I need max support!

(I hate tags. I need more of them)

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[lilacgaby]

Yay request open oh oh if youre in Gumi era just having idea can I have more of his domestic fluff like planning on their future life any kind of domestic will do (๑•́ω•̀) 💗💗

title: my heart is yours eternally

pairing: boyfriend-> husband!megumi x girlfriend->wife!reader

summary: megumi thought this life he planned was only one in fairytales, but as he looked at the life he built with you, he knew it was real.

note: i love megumi pls pls pls request him more ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

"i want a small wedding." he said out of the blue as you two laid in his bed, holding your hand in his and he looked over you. "one that's intimate, i don't mind you choosing the theme or anything."

as you nodded thoughtfully, you entangled your fingers together. "mhm. just for us. and i want you to have a pretty ring too, i think you'd look nice with one in silver."

"you think?" he replied, eyebrow raised.

"i know so. and we can have a huge wedding cake-"

"vanilla."

"yes vanilla, with ice cream too. just for us."

he seemed content with that, smiling softly. until a thought crossed over his mind and he looked down at you with a look in his eye.

"i'll get you a nice ring, i promise. you just need to wait." he said, determined.

"i'll wait for you 'til the end of time, 'gumi."

he flushed and squeezed your hand tighter, he had to get the best for you. he couldn't sleep right if he didn't.

"you want any kids 'gumi?" you asked absentmindedly, not noticing the way he choked on air at the thought. images of you pregnant ran through his mind, his mind spiraling as he failed to find the words.

"megumi?"

"oh, uh.. a brother and a sister. that's all we need."

"sounds good, i wouldn't want our baby to get lonely when we're gone after all."

he felt his mind sputter at the thought of your baby, with features from you and him.

the topic of conversation eventually changed to something different, a show you were watching. as he listened to you recount how happy you were that the characters you hated died, his mind still kept going back to the conversation you had earlier.

he fell asleep holding your hand, images of the life you'd have together running through vividly, like he could almost touch it.

since then, he was determined to make that a reality for the two of you.

he proposed to you on your anniversary, taking every possible note he could about the types of rings you liked before choosing one. as he held you hand in his and slid on the ring, kissing you with only the sunset behind you as witness, he felt truly loved.

the months spent planning your wedding weren't as stressful as you handled it together. finding the perfect venue, small like you both wanted.

going on dates to sample cakes, laughing at megumi's face of disgust. choosing the topper for the cake, opting for two loving bunnies at the top since none of them could get megumi's hair right.

choosing who to invite, megumi 'begrudgingly' inviting his old friends from jujutsu high, and you yours.

him going out with gojo and yuuji to pick the perfect suit, you choosing your dress with your most trusted friends.

walking down the aisle, megumi felt emotional since you were just so gorgeous, he never felt as luck as he did when you were announced husband and wife.

well actually, that's a lie.

when you gifted him a box, full of baby clothes and a stick with two life changing lines on it, he knew you were his good luck charm.

as he promised, he loved you through even your sickness. a lot of foods made you nauseous, so he'd started to learn how to cook because it was exhausting for you.

your bump was bigger than average, not like he'd say it to your face, but it was confirmed when you went to get your ultrasound. twins.

you squinted your eyes at him and jokingly hit him on his shoulder lightly, saying, "this is your fault!"

he only laughed. at your gender reveal, just a small thing between you two, you held hands and cut a cake slice out of the cake. to your surprise, it was blue and pink.

your stomach got huge, at 9 months you just wanted your kids out. megumi would take you out on walks everyday, well just strolls around your house technically, but it was a lot for you.

on day number 3, your water broke. you thought you'd finally feel relieved, but good thing megumi was there because you panicked. he was too but mentally.

as you delivered your babies, the son first, you squeezed his hand for dear life.

when you went home with 2 kids a couple days later, you sleeping as megumi held the two in the rocking chair he'd picked out, he felt like it was a dream.

when you awoke, and he'd matched the features of your son who took after you and your daughter after him, his heart fluttered as he felt his body soar.

this is what love is, and this is what he dreamt of.

[tiny-space-platypus]

Never really fit back in

Part 5 9:47 PM June 26 How much can you lose in a day?

Previous

11:00 PM June 25

Damian was infuriated and terrified. He wanted to keep his brother from the family at first. He had wanted to meet him on his own first. Damian wanted to ease him into the family unlike how he was but apparently his family had other ideas.

He could only watch from the cameras he had hacked into a while ago. There was no time to get the Masters Manor, there was no time to protect his brother. Though Damian knew his brother never needed protection, Danyal Al Gul was the stronger twin, the smarter twin, and the more protective twin. Danyal never let Damian be punished if he could help it, Danyal took the blame for any misdeed or mistake and when he couldn't he'd just switch places with Damian. They were practically identical after all and every time Danyal would return smiling. Happy to have protected him and Damian repaid that kindness by killing him.

He watched as his brother disappeared out of his father's grasp. Damian would need to explain his brother to his family as soon as they got back.

He'd need to tell that that Danyal was supposed to be dead. By his hands. That he had died when he were 7. How he melted away into the pit instead of coming back to them.

He needed to find his brother, to explain this misdeed. He had just gotten his brother back Damian couldn't lose him again.

Midnight June 26th

"I'm your son"

The bitter and hurt voice of his son rang in his ears as he made his way back to the Alley. That boy couldn't be his son. He would have been told if he had another-

Tim was in the cave, Bruce had sent him there with samples from Danny. Samples he wanted tested and the computers he wanted scrapped. When the test came back, it confirmed Danny was his son. He needed answers and the Fentons likely had them. They did raise the boy after all but first, he had to see his parents. Bruce doubted he'd be able to follow his normal routine for the day anyways. So he left the flowers at the sight of their death early on the oh so rainy anniversary of their death. He whispered to flowers as he placed them down. "I don't believe I'll be able to follow our tradition this year. I'm sorry"

... The Fentons weren't as helpful as Bruce had hoped.

They practically knew nothing of their son or daughter instead they kept rambling on about the dangers of ghosts and Phantom. In short they were insane..

Until Tim and Barbara checked their computers, till they called an all hands to show the Fentons cutting open and tearing apart a boy with white flowing hair and terrified green eyes. The boy had some sort of muzzle on to prevent him from speaking or screaming, all he could do was cry as the Fentons spoke of him like he was a monster. Tim skipped over most of the recording, showing the Fenton pulling organs and bones out of the poor boy as he fast-forwarded to after the Fentons had left, leaving the boy strapped down and still cut open on their metal table. A red headed girl came down the stairs to the lab and carefully removed his restraints. In a small flash of light the white haired boy was gone replaced with Danny. Green blood now an awful red as his head lolled again the girl. The girl then threw him through a green portal they had been off when they tore down the Fenton Lab.

They were quiet for a moment before Barbara played the next Video of Masters making closes of Danny and using said clones to attack the boy. Then it was Damian's turn to explain his brother's story. By the end of it Bruce had realized his mistake but as it always was with his children. He realized too late.

9:55 PM June 26

It was raining when Danyal finally made it to Gotham. Flying would normally help with his rage, help with the emotions he normally refused to let loose. He wanted to make sure this is what he wanted so he waited a full day before taking action. The emotions he hid as Danny and festered in as Phantom where now let loose as his core slowly turned the rainy summer night of Gotham into a snow storm. Danyal didn't care that the living below him weren't prepared for the sudden change of temperature and weather. He didn't care because the living shouldn't be his problem. The living weren't his problem anymore. At least the dead were consistent, they either feared him or loved him or both. They didn't cause havoc anymore only occasionally coming around for a friendly spar. His rogues were more of a family than his real one ever was.

Ｃｒａｃｋ

It's time to balance the scales. The living loved to take and take and take and now it was time to give.

Ｃ ｒ ａ ｃ ｋ

Danyal could feel Gotham mourning. Mourning a loss from decades earlier, the loss of Thomas and Martha Wayne as the city did every year for her knights. Danyal does feel a little bad for disturbing a sacred day for the city but if anyone had the right to do so it would be him.

Danny stood in Crime Alley looking down at the soaking wet and slowly freezing roses left of the ground some time before he got there. He frowned at the roses as he made 2 little ice vases to place the frozen flowers in. Danyal knew they were memorial flowers by the two spirits that hovered around them. He sat with the ghosts of his would-be grandparents, rage still radiating off of him.

He detransforms back into his human form except for the glowing green katana he summoned. Now he waits, holding a katana that felt both so right and so wrong in his hands. Danyal will grow used to it again.

The two ghosts fidgeted as Martha elbowed her husband wanting him to say something to their angry grandson. He cleared his throat and tried to speak softly. "He didn't know Phantom. None of them knew. None of them like speaking of death."

Danny scoffed, "yes I am very aware of how uncomfortable the living are with dying." He ran his fingers along the edge of his blade. "It's what I get for hoping for something better. Now everything is so much worse."

Martha cut in her voice soft as she placed a ghostly hand on the young lonely king. "He would love to have you once everything is explained"

Danny buried his face in his hands before looking up at the smog filled sky. "I-I don't think I want that anymore. They didn't even try to get to know me before trying to destroy my life." Danny paused as he looked back at the frozen flowers. "Maybe I should go find Mother, she loved me once, she cared once. Damian can stay here and I can take care of the league. Maybe that's my place"

10:15 PM June 26

It didn't take long to be found, Danyal knew it wouldn't. There is always at least one Bat around here, he was expecting Red Hood or Jason whichever pill boy liked to be called. But that's not who found him. Instead he was face to face with Batman, instead he was face to face with a father that was never his. A father who never loved him.

Ｃ ｒ ａ ｃ ｋ

If Danyal hadn't followed his father or had lived with Damian as a child, he probably would have found the constant scowl intimating but Danyal was King and possible heir to the league. 2 positions he never wanted but 2 positions he'd take anyways. "I'm not here for you Batman. I'm here for my brother."

————————

Bruce looked down at the boy in front of him. A boy he failed to recognize twice, but now he couldn't help but recognize him. A boy who was almost identical to Damian except for the icy blue eyes that were currently staring a hole through him. Just like how Damian did when he first arrived at the Manor. Would this child also come to the manor? Would he even want to join the family after all they've done? What he could do was try and ensure their decisions didn't ruin his sons' relationship. Bruce couldn't let his mistakes tear his sons apart again.

"The attack wasn't Robin's idea. It was mine, I'm sorry." Bruce's gaze was soft and he was apologizing but it was all too little too late. "If I had known-"

Danyal stares at Bruce matching his gaze with a glare. He snapped at Bruce. "If you had known, you would have for tea? Played up that nice and goofy dad persona? I've played that game before too and I don't need to play it again."

Damian would soon drop down from the roof tops disobeying Bruce's grounding. Damian dressed as Robin with his katana stood facing a now different Danyal dressed in a league uniform. Danyal's eyes shifted a glowing green as his skin became as pale as Bruce and hair pure whispy white. He looked over at Bruce as his crown appeared over his head shifted between fire and ice as it floated above his head. A command rang out from the boy.

"Don't interfere"

Danyal then turned to Damian and held out his blade. Danyal's eyes were cold as he stared at his brother who also prepared himself to spare. He took a deep breath as he felt a little nostalgic this was just like how they'd spare when they were young except Danyal wasn't going to hold back this time.

Damian stared as his brother's cold glare, he wasn't used to it. His brother had always been the happy cheery and easy going brother. It was why grandfather didn't like him. It's why mother loved him. That glare however reminded him more of grandfather, a man he knew his brother hated.

"I once hoped we could be a family again Dami. I understand that was a foolish wish now"

Ｃｒａｃｋ

—————————

A small buzz came from Bruce Com, a small reminder he had built into it to remind him of the time every year at the time. 9:42 June 26th, 5 minutes til he's supposed to be in this alley watching over his parents Death sight. Yet again Bruce was powerless, unable to move to stop his sons from fighting. Unable to prevent another death in the family. The fight was quick, Danyal was the winner cutting down his brother as easily as he did to him so many years ago.

Bruce watched Damian fall and screamed as he tried desperately to move, to get to his son. He couldn't- not here, please not here. He watched as Danyal pulled out his sword allowing Damian to slump further.

Move MOVE MOVE 𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙀

But he couldn't, all he could do was watch as his son's face paled and breathing labored. Damian was dying and there wasn't a damned thing he could do... Again.

Danyal grabbed Damian by the hair pulling him up to the wounds through his chest was entirely visible and bleeding profusely.

"You're lucky I promised Mother I would always take care of you"

Danyal presses his green blade into Damian's chest allowing the living brother to take in the ectoplasm Blade to heal. The pit and ectoplasm were practically the same after all. Danyal then snapped his fingers after dropping Damian. Bruce Stumbled forward and grabbed Damian immediately then began to call for back up. As Bruce focused on his now unconscious son, Danyal disappeared into the shadows.

9:47 PM June 26th

[thischarmingmandalorian]

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

Couple, Bar Chapter 1

Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.

Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader

Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.

While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."  

You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.

Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern.  And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.

On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.

The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting.  Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set. 

Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.

"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music. 

You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.

Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."

"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.

After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.

"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."

There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?

"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm…"

"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.

You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"

Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."

"Oh…kay?"

Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'

You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round.  Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right. 

You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."

You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."

Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"

You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry.  You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.

This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played.  You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself.  Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is? 

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.

You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.

"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"

You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.

"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.

"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.

"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.

"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.

"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.

The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything. 

And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper. 

You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front. 

You'll show him sexually frustrated.

Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach. 

"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.

Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.

"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder. 

"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet.  He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.

I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don't know how to say this

'Cause you're really my dearest friend

Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass. 

"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."

Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."

You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.

"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"

"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"

His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.

Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."

"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."

His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"

"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"

"Mommy left some in the fridge."

Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.

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

"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"

You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."

"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."

Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.

After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."

Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"

"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"

"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.

You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."

"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."

You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.

"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.

"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.

"I don't."

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

The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.

He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."

He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."

Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."

"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.

"Uhhh... just some stuff."

"Natasha."

"Bradley."

"What did you do?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."

With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.

"She knows the plan."

He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"

Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."

"We have work on Friday-" 

She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.

"Hi, Daddy."

He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."

"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."

You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."

Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."

You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."

He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 

It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."

"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"

"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."

Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."

"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."

He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."

You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 

"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."

"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 

Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."

"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 

"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."

When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"

"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.

"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."

You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.

When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 

When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.

"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."

You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"

His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 

"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.

"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.

"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."

You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."

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

As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 

"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"

"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."

He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."

"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."

With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"

You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."

"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.

You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"

"That's adoption?" he asked. 

"That's adoption."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"

The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.

You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!

Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 

You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 

When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.

You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 

Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 

You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."

"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy."

And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.

"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 

"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 

He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"

When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."

"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."

You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.

But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"

"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.

"Bradley!"

He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."

Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.

"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."

He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.

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

Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 61

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[cherryheairt]

Law of Attraction ch.3

Previous Chapter

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Finally meeting Chishiya!

chapter three: Outlier

“Death to all traitors” Was the third and final rule that Hatter decided on. While you stayed silent in pure shock, the rest seemed to unanimously agree. Across from you, Mira even seemed to shift in her seat and unconsciously lean forward like the idea enthralled her. You shrunk back, uncomfortable at the idea of a few select ‘Militants’ running this group's security.

Anyone could be deemed a traitor so long as an accuser has backup. The mood lifted as Hatter dismissed everyone, keeping only the three that had been in the room from the very beginning and himself. Promising to assign more specific roles in the morning, he let everyone off with a jovial ‘goodnight!’

The next floor down was the suite rooms, only ten on the floor that marked the rooms that each of the top residents would stay in. Niragi split off immediately, following Aguni as if he'd known the older man his whole life and not uttering another word to you and Hoshiko.

In your room, labeled ‘Six’ with the original ones crossed out with black spray paint, you sighed and slumped down on your bed. The room was clean enough besides the faint scent of dust, and was otherwise empty of all personal touches as any resort room should be. The only things in the room that were usable were sample hair and body products plus some towels and bathrobes. Briefly, you wondered if it was even worth it to find anything around Tokyo to fill your room with, but the thought of having to move everyone when you might eventually be usurped out of your spot wiped that brief hope away. If you lived past the next game long enough to be usurped, that is.

Your only respite from the somber evening after Laser Tag was the promise of a shower. Cold or not, you wouldn't do jack shit before getting that shower.

A knock on your door shattered your one dream.

“Who is it?” You asked suspiciously, wondering is Hoshiko or Niragi would bother to knock.

“Ann.” Came the monotone female voice from behind. Ann? What would she want?

Opening the door, your confused expression was cleansed away from your face at the sight of a stack of skimpy bikinis in her arms. Holding them out to you with a downturn to her lips, you scowled.

“Hatter is instating the rule immediately?”

“There was a shoppe downstairs, for the tourists. Filled to the brim with nonsensical souvenirs and emergency outfits.”

You took the bikinis into your grasp, deciding vaguely between throwing them off your balcony or into Hatter's face. “Are there coverups down there?”

Shrugging, she straightened up, long legs shown off in the shorts she'd been wearing since you met her a few hours ago. “Not that I saw. Next game, I'll find some with you.” She promised, leaving promptly immediately after.

Not having room to say anything else, you dumped the suits on your desk and jumped into the shower before any more interruptions could stop you.

It was better than you ever remembered. Something as simple and mundane as a shower was taken for granted your entire life, but now you never wanted to leave it. Using way too much of all of the soaps and simply standing under the hot water for what might have been all night, you reluctantly parted with the bathtub and wrapped a fluffy white towel around your body. Finding a toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash you immediately got to work yet again. The refreshment was almost worth the two harrowing games you had survived.

Almost.

Outside, Niragi's figure lounging on your bed as if it were his own startled you. Clutching your towel tighter over your chest to ensure no slips, you glared down at him from the bathroom door. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Niragi laughed and fell back into the bed, showing the brand new automatic weapon Aguni had apparently trusted him with. “Can't I visit my companion?”

“Not with the shit you pulled this evening.” You said, sifting through the pile of swimwear irritatedly. He frowned, no longer in his giddy mood and instead joining you near the table. He sat at the office chair, leaning forward to look into your eyes. He looked intensely sobered up, even though he was never inebriated to begin with, and spoke.

“This is good. You, me, and that kid you wanted to keep around can stay here and leave this place for good. There's power in numbers. No more scrounging around for food or clean water.” He said your name with a pleading tone.

“You really believe that gathering all of those stupid cards will work?” You asked. “Just, hold all the cards in your hands and poof! Back home again!” You exasperated, throwing your hands up. “This guy doesn't know anything for certain. We could end up at the back of the line in a few weeks for all we know—or! get accused of being traitors and killed on the spot.”

He leaned back, resting his head on the back of the chair and staring at the ceiling tiles. “No. We don't know if it's true or not. But I need to keep us safe, and this is the best way.”

You sat across from him on your bed, nodding slowly to his words. “It's not all on you, Niragi. We could make it out there, just the three of us.”

“It's too late, now. There are more Militants that Hatter didn't let attend the meeting earlier. Not many, but every Game Night they go out and recruit others at the games they play.”

You hummed, taking his words into consideration. “So you're a recruiter and gunman. What about me and Hoshiko? Did Aguni say anything?”

Niragi shook his head. “Hatter decides that. Probably with those other head honchos there.” He pointed upwards. “They seemed pretty close.”

“For now,” You urged. “Let's just stay low and play the games. If shit gets out of control here, we leave. Promise me that you'll leave, Niragi.”

“I swear.” He said, grabbing your hand to softly interlock your pinkies like children do.

Feeling extremely exposed, you loosely hugged yourself as the other members of the table gathered around to sit with each other. You picked out a pastel spring color that didn't stand out too much in color yet wasn't a neutral to blend into your skin tone, giving more to the imagination than others already were given. The seat was cold on your back and the bottom of your thighs but you kept all complaints to yourself. After all, Ann and Mira were in quite a similar situation with their white and black bikinis respectively. Only, Ann had her shorts on again and Mira had a long flowy skirt to appear more modest. You were the odd duckling out, it appeared, and all the men had on swim trunks that were basically cargo shorts along with open button-ups. Fair rules, your ass. The Militants were downstairs, fixing up a car that worked on diesel, apparently.

Hatter calling your name drew your attention immediately. “I want you and Mira to finish the card paintings until the games tonight, which have been partnered already.”

“Got it.” You smiled tightly, nodding to the silly request. Though, you supposed you had nothing better to do with your time. Mira looked nice enough, but the anxiety of waiting for another game bit at you. “Wait—tonight?” You whipped your head around again.

“We're joining games every night.” Kuzuryu pointed out like you were stupid. “To get people to join us at a rapid pace, we cannot simply join games on our last visa days.”

“So my five days are just cut to the very next evening?” You rubbed your temples. Niragi better have his bags packed.

“Only temporarily.” Hatter smiled sympathetically. “I know it seems wasteful to not use your days for yourself, but after we get more members for The Beach we will follow a different schedule.”

You agreed to appease him, irritation climbing up your throat yet again.

Glancing around, you were entirely alone yet again in your displeasure for Hatter's insane rules and regulations. One against everyone else. Even Hoshiko didn't outwardly seem to mind the rule, giving you a knowing and sympathetic smile while bouncing his leg.

Perhaps the Beach would simply fall before you could escape it. Waiting it out wouldn't take too long, especially when it was being run by someone like Hatter, who you could easily imagine allowing things to get out of hand just enough to be controllable—but would accidentally allow the scales to tip out of his favor.

You never knew how long fifty days truly were until you lived them with no internet. At first, it was fine. You weren't bored with all the work needed to set up The Beach. Games every evening, glueing locks and painting stupid cards on the wall while Hatter and his closest friends drank downstairs. There were a few other things to do, sure, but nothing to fully occupy the waking hours of the day. The main thing to do was mingle with your fellow Beachers.

Not to say that you weren't social, it was just easy to get tired of the way people acted when drunk or high twenty-four/seven. You unfortunately got stuck with bartending duty on nights that you had no game, which meant you were in the thick of it most every night. The sounds of moans, vomiting, or whoops and hollers of intoxicated men and women never let your ears have a day of rest.

Every day, the numbers grew at The Beach and you and the other executives were finally allowed to play your games whenever you pleased—which was usually the very last visa day available. The lower numbered people were unlucky enough to continue doing games every day or other while also recruiting more people. The resort was nearly full, you would guess, and never slept either. People truly lived up to Hatter’s rules. Parties lasted all day and all night, never broken by the solemn news of many not making it back to home base after a game was completed. You hadn't even dipped a toe into the pool since the second week—horrified at the sights that occured, defacing the public pool itself. Chlorine was strong in the air, but no amount of cleaner would ever allow you to trust it again.

A team system was developed quickly by the Militants, who you also quickly learned to avoid when possible. While the Idealists first came up with the idea that certain people should be lumped together, Aguni suggested that at least one militant member is on each team. He seemed to be the most sane member, and you considered yourself lucky that he was the leader rather than anyone else. What do you get when you mix drunks and druggies with guns? Trigger-happy and controlling bastards who never got told ‘no’ anymore.

Niragi was one of them. He had taken to their partying and carried around his gun like it was a lifeline. He parted the crowds like the Red Sea wherever he went, usually either following Aguni or having his own followers behind him. He seemed to take the unofficial spot as ‘second in command’ to the Militant branch. You and him rarely spoke during the day, but always got partnered up in your ‘teams’. Since you were in good with Mira (who worked with Kuzuryu to make the perfect teams according to ‘player specialty’ and their estimates about what venue was what card type) you were able to get Hoshiko and Niragi in your car 90% of the time. There always had to be at least one militant in a car for every group attending games, and you got either Aguni or Niragi each time. You didn't exactly know why Aguni was your spare when Niragi was busy, but you wouldn't deny the security his broad shoulders brought when you lingered behind him.

You were apparently a Clubs player, according to the monotone voice of Kuzuryu. Mira had disagreed, telling you that Hearts was definitely your specialty although you haven't joined a single one yet. From what you'd heard of it, you'd hoped you could continue that lucky streak.

When the rare occurrence did happen and Niragi was off to a Spade while you were sent to a Club with Hosiko (also a Club specialist) your anxiety about not seeing your companion upon your return had worsened. You could only comfort yourself with the knowledge that Niragi was indeed a smart guy who presented himself as a pure meathead and had passed every game sent his way so far.

You were not even aware of just how many games you had survived. You stopped counting after Hatter finally allowed the top 10 group the freedom of decision. With the amount of death you had seen and the blood on your hands, you felt like the games had turned you into an entirely new person. Born of blood and desperation and fear.

Though, life in The New World was not entirely miserable.

You had grown quite close to Mira and Ann during your two month stay. The two women were proven to be a godsend amongst the raving people of The Beach. They rarely went down to the bar and when either of them did, it was to simply sip on a cocktail and have a genuine conversation with you. Of course, you had little girl's nights in your room and celebrated surviving games with champagne or little treats brought back by scavengers. It wasn't nearly what the Old World's nights of enjoyment might be like, but none of you complained when in each other's comforting company.

Aguni was an unexpected friend, although he would never call you one. He lingered downstairs when no meetings were called, sharp eyes making sure no fights broke out between the drunks. You were grateful for his interventions whenever Niragi was involved: one sharp look from the older man and Niragi was silenced like a dog. You and him quietly cooked and ate your meals together after a game completion. His fight and tension seemed to release in the quiet parts of the day when no one else was around. The games were tiring him, too, and the fact that someone as strong as Aguni had grown exhausted of the games was a true testament to how much you'd endured.

Hoshiko was a designated supply runner, usually taking a car out in the mornings and not returning until the early hours of the next and happily digging into whatever hot meal you scrounged up for him. Occasionally, Niragi would linger around to ensure Hosiko was safe from his trip before he said curt ‘goodnights’ and went up to his room, still number Six You were honestly shocked that you were still number Seven although Hoshiko was demoted to the 20's and now stayed on a different floor of the hotel.

Hatter’s intentions of keeping you in the Six spot bemused you to no end but you kept your mouth shut and didn't outwardly question his choices. You had brought back many useful cards for Hatter, you and your team often being the sole survivors in the randomized games and that was an undeniable benefit to The Beach, but you knew your main use lay in your communication skills and the sheer number of recruits you brought in.

You were young and a kind face in a sea of people who adapted the ‘every man for themself’ mentality, which increased your geniality to the fresh meat of the New World. Some were lost causes, namely the few that had been you as long or even longer than you. They developed their routines and made safehouses, not willing to trust a stranger who promised them a life of luxury at a resort. You couldn't blame them, and found yourself feeling all the more guilty when the teary eyed desperate ones eagerly clung to your every word and joined your team’s car home.

You never told them about the third rule—not when Aguni and Niragi were always looming over your shoulder to ensure just that. Blindside the recruits with promise of safety, food, and community while keeping the darkness of The Beach away from them.

Tonight, you had Hoshiko and Niragi with you in an old Chevette with you in passenger and Niragi driving. It was only you three and you were unsettled about the potential suite of the card you would be forced to play.

“Do you think it'll be Hearts tonight?” Hoshiko quietly piped up from the back. He was the only one out of the three of you to play one before in the early days. It took him three days to speak again and you tiptoed around him all the while trying to get him cheered up. You never found out exactly what happened during his game, but one of the other scavengers that he usually hung around didn't return with him.

“Kuzuryu said it would be Diamond.” Niragi said casually. He didn't ever seem bothered by games anymore, and in fact seemed to look forward to the more aggressive ones like Spade and Club.

You agreed with a short nod. “It's a small venue. Usually Diamonds are held in them, and Kuzuryu is rarely wrong.”

Hoshiko swallows harshly but bobs his head in an eager agreement. “Yeah! He and Mira are practically geniuses.”

Mira and Kuzuryu were extremely intelligent and they both knew it well. Mira wasn't as cocky and outward about it like Kuzuryu was, but her silent emotional intelligence spoke volumes when you watched her expressions change whenever others were speaking. Usually, she was amused by the drunks that argued or mindlessly fought around the pool or lobby area but she never seemed to gossip about it afterwards. Contained and elegant outside as she was inside.

She was an angel not in disguise, though her dark wardrobe was a stark contrast to her personality. She often wore long, flowy cover ups to match her black or red bikinis and let you have your pickings in whatever clothes had arrived in the scavengers’ car before she did. You always left the darker colors for her and the knowing smile she sent you afterwards made your heart warm. You had grown used to the revealing clothes and even more confident as days went on, choosing to wear tube tops and mini skirts over your bikinis. Hatter learned to stop pestering you about your clothing decisions, knowing it was the best he could manage out of you before you rebelled and switched clothes right after he was out of your room again.

For the games, however, you stuck with more athletic wear to protect yourself from any scraped skin or roadburn. Even knives, as much as you hated to know that other players were often your biggest threat. Breathable leggings and a thin jacket over a sports bra did the trick and was easy to move in when the time called for it. You missed jeans and hoodies, but they seemed to be a thing of the past at The Beach.

Niragi pulled up to the glowing venue, turning the car engine off and simply staring at the building for a few long and silent moments while everyone got ready to leave the car. Hoshiko entered ahead, sensing Niragi’s tension and wanting nothing to do with his temper.

“Is something up?” You asked, hand hovering over the handle. His hands limply sat over his thighs as he breathed through his nose—pierced now, by the way, to your shock (it had been somewhat of an argument when he came back from a ‘scavenging trip’ with some Militants with multiple facial piercings. They looked good on him, you had to admit, but Hoshiko thought so too and you had to be the one to shut the kid down, explaining that his parents would be furious when he got back home)—and mumbled something about ‘everything being just fine’.

“If you want to sulk for no reason, be my guest. Don't make it everyone else's problem in the game.” You rolled your eyes at his juvenile behavior, leaving the car with a pinched brow and growing headache.

Hoshiko was already in the game arena, phone in hand and awkwardly shifting his weight between both legs. You seemed to get here extra early, being the only three to register in the small building. It was a fairly small building in a strip mall-type huddle, with a glowing sign that simply said ‘Game Lounge’ at the top. Inside, it was rows of computers and cozy seating with bean bags and couches in corners with large tvs and game consoles. You'd never been the type to pay to play games in a random building with a bunch of others shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but the concept was easy to understand. Probably the easiest and most affordable way to meet friends with similar nerdy hobbies that didn't include spending hundreds of dollars at a ComicCon.

Niragi inspected the area, staying mysteriously silent as he seated himself laxly on a bean bag. You rolled your eyes and Hoshiko tensely found a seat at one of the desks, keeping his eyes on the lasered entrance.

“One minute remaining until registration closes.” The robotic voice announced.

“Looks like it's just us three today.” Hoshiko said, though his brow furrowed deeper at the thought.

“No problem.” You shrugged. “We're plenty smart enough together to figure out a diamond game.” By the look of the computers, it was best to assume Diamond was the game you'd be playing.

The bell chime of the glass door broke the silence. A man around your age stepped in completely alone, wearing regular cargo shorts and a greyish jacket over a plain t-shirt that stayed half-zipped. His hoodie was over his head, but the little strands at the sides of his neck gave away the slightest curl of white-blonde hair. From what you could see of his face, your first thought was that he was pretty cute.

“Registration closed. The game will begin shortly.”

He made no move to greet anyone, simply taking a phone and unlocking it with a blank look on his face.

The voice chimed again. “Game; Would you Rather: Outlier. Difficulty: 5 of Clubs.

“Clubs?” You asked no one in particular. How would an all-rounder game work in a place so small?

“Rules: Players will use the devices available to choose from options on the screen. Each round, your goal is to pick the option that you think the other players would prefer. If you choose the less popular option, you are the Outlier. Three wrong answers is an elimination.”

Hoshiko sucked a sharp breath in. “That should be fine! We just need to communicate and we'll all live.”

“Speaking is prohibited at this time until the game is cleared. Cheating results in an automatic elimination. The game is cleared when ten rounds are successfully passed. Three minutes are provided per question.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach at the conditions. Sure, you and your two companions have grown closer due to the mutual desperation to survive and supposed trauma-bonding, but it's not like you'd stopped your days and played 20 questions with them. The new guy has also an annoying variable who could have everything or absolutely nothing in common with any of you.

Behind you, the amused breathy laugh from the blonde guy made you turn your neck and glare back at him. He had no worries or care plastered on his features, just a small cat-like smirk as he brushed past you and sat himself at one of the laptops.

Your second thought was that this guy might be a bigger asshole than Niragi.

The four of you sat parallel and side-by-side in a four square formation, glances shared between the three of you who were familiar.

The screen lit up right when you seated yourself. It's bright light caused you to squint for a moment, eyes adjusting to see the first question plastered on screen in a colorful display that reminded you of the Norwegian online game: Kahoot.

Four options. Much more niche than the two you were expecting to choose between. The only sound in the room was the four of you breathing and shifting in your seats, and the urge to glance at the screen of the stranger next to you was growing by the second.

‘Question One’

‘Would you rather visit:

♡ America

◇ China

♧ Brazil

♤ Finland’

The answers stumped you. The four options were all entirely different countries with different languages and cultures. You had zero clue what the others had experienced in their lives. Personally, you'd never even left Japan your entire life. You highly doubted Hoshiko did, either, with his young age. Niragi was a wild card but given his timid demeanor when you first met him the most likely chance was that he never ventured outside of Tokyo. And the asshole next to you? You wouldn't even begin to assume.

Time felt like it passed quickly, though there was no clock or timer on your screen to tell.

You changed your internal question, taking a deep breath in to sooth your frazzled nerves.

It didn't matter where they might have visited before. What did matter was what is the most popular general tourist area? Picking the most popular one was likely what everyone else would do, and you doing the same would mean all the answers line up.

Although Japan was extremely close to China, most of your friends always gushed about the tourist cities in America like Los Angeles or New York. The Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, Yellowstone National Park, the Hollywood walk of fame. So many bucket list options could be crossed off with one country.

Steeling yourself, you clicked ‘America’ and sat back to watch Niragi and Hoshiko in front of you. Hoshiko's face was glistening with sweat at the sheer anxiety of the game, and Niragi was slightly squinting at the question. You remembered the glasses that he was all too quick to ditch early on in the New World, and almost laughed at his lack of planning.

When all the answers were submitted, you smiled at the pie chart lying on the screen. 75% choose America.

But who was the Outlier? You scanned the three for panicked faces, and saw Hoshiko's face lit up with a red light on his screen. As much as you wished to give words of comfort, all you could provide was a tight smile.

Three chances out of ten games. The odds were not too challenging.

The next question was fast and the answer even faster. You felt confident in your pick, sitting back first to observe again. Your eyes caught on the man next to you, who had never seemed to be ill at ease like the rest of you and rather seemed to enjoy people-watching when he clicked an answer.

You looked away immediately, his dark eyes almost drawing you in and distracting you from the game. What exactly made him so confident in a low strategy game like this?

The game's second round came to a close and every screen was green. Sighing in relief, you felt ever more confident for Round Three.

‘Would you rather choose between yourself or your best friend?’

What kind of question was that? You chewed your lip, looking at the two options given, which simply said ‘Yourself’ and ‘Friend’. There was little context, so your best bet was to assume that the situation was life or death. You glanced at Niragi and Hoshiko. You weren't the type to hang around many people in the Old World given your busy schedule, so you didn't have a specific person that came to mind when ‘best friend’ was in question.

However, Niragi and Hoshiko, as well as perhaps Aguni, Mira, and Ann were your friends. Though half of them would simply name you an ally, that was the closest to a friend you could ask for in this world.

Would you sacrifice your life for theirs? Or rather, would they sacrifice theirs for you? Your tablemate seemed to turn his head and stare into your side profile when he finished answering, his dark gaze burning into your skull like lasers that you tried to vehemently ignore. What's his deal? The scrutiny felt like being held under a microscope and observed for testing, leaving a prickly feeling up your spine and down your arms.

Everyone would pick ‘Friend’, right? It was the obvious answer to pick whatever made you look more selfless and agreeable. When it truly came down to it in a life-or-death scenario, most would abandon all relationships and instinctively protect themself.

You took the question from the others’ perspective, wondering what they might assume was your answer.

Niragi would choose himself, undoubtedly.

Hoshiko might choose ‘Friend’.

The stranger would also certainly choose himself.

You pressed ‘Yourself’ and sat back, hoping that Hoshiko had the same thought process as you.

Your heart dropped yet again when his screen lit up a blazing red. Two dings, there were 7 more rounds and he only had one more chance. You bit your tongue, the forced silence nearly killing you. You'd have to try and take two questions for him, or manipulate the answers so it was possible to split the decision half and half and that way no one would be an outlier. Everyone could live through the ten rounds easily, so long as you took the questions seriously.

With no way of communication and the constant anxiety of your hands being watched for cheating, you'd have no other choice but to attempt it alone.

The next was a much simpler question. No moral compass in play, just; “Would you rather own a:

‘♡ Bird

◇ Cat

♧ Fish

♤ Dog’

Bird and fish were the obvious outliers, as none would risk choosing such unpopular options. Personally, you thought both cats and dogs made great pets for you. As far as your schedule, a cat would work better.

Niragi would pick the dog. The comparison was almost ironic but you knew one would suit his new lifestyle well. Perhaps a Doberman Pinscher or even a Belgian Malinois that he would train diligently for protection or hunting.

Glancing at the guy next to you, you couldn't help but associate him with ‘Cat’.

That's 50/50 right there, and Hoshiko could do either way. Dog, maybe. He was an energetic teenage boy, and dogs often found the best lives with active owners.

You picked ‘Cat’ and waited for the pie chart.

All the screens lit up green, and you couldn't hide your satisfied grin at the results: 50% Cat and 50% Dog. There were no outliers and everyone moved on. Meeting Niragi's eyeline, he seemed to understand the strategy and nodded to himself, slumping in his desk chair.

Everyone moved on to the next round safely. Hoshiko let a loud breath out and wiped sweat from his forehead.

Question five was next. Half way done.

‘Would you rather live in:

♡ A townhouse

◇ A beach house

♧ A mansion

♤ A cabin’

You smiled slightly, wasting no time to press the Diamond option, knowing that your companions would, too. It almost felt like an inside joke, seeing the option pop up on your screen. A safe, free round.

Your screen lit up green. As did Niragi and Hoshiko's, who both looked relieved in their own ways. Beside you, a dim glow of red caught your eye. The man in the hoodie pursed his lips for only a split second before letting his face be neutral again. He met your eye, raising a brow as if to say, ‘what about it?’ You quickly left it at that.

‘Question Six’

‘Would you rather have the power to:

♡ Fly

◇ Read minds

♧ Gain super speed

♤ Use the elements to your will’

The juvenile question felt quite nostalgic. The blurred memories of you asking your middle school friends the exact same type of questions during late night sleep-overs and giggling at which celebrity you'd ‘rather date’ or what career you'd (unrealistically) want as your dream job. Without fail, you always choose something impossible like ‘actress’ or ‘popstar’.

The question was hard. It could go any of the four ways. Really, this one relied on personal knowledge of a person. You weren't even quite sure of your own answer. The most practical one, maybe, would be a realistic answer that the other three would pick. Either way, if you all choose a different answer then there would still be no outliers. All it took was one answer having two players choose it for the other two to be dinged. For Hoshiko, it was his final chance and his most stressful. With only about two minutes left, he wasn't looking confident.

You choose Club, the presumably least popular option among the others. Praying that no one else picked it or had the same thought process, you held your breath and focused on the others in your peripherals.

The pie chart lit up, showing you a green screen. Immediately, you checked to see Hoshiko's, which was also green. There was 25% pieces evenly splitting up the chart, making everyone clear the round.

Round seven was next.

‘Would you rather own:

◇ A game company

♧ A private airport

♡ A theme park

♤ A race track’

You hesitantly clicked the option for Diamond again. You hoped the other three might put together ‘game’ in common with the game room and also choose it, but there was no differentiating between personalities and answers. All were nice things to own and would all make good money, leaving personal preferences out the window.

The answers were all submitted and you were the only one with a red screen. You grew tense again, rubbing your sweaty palms on your leggings and soothing yourself. Only three more anyway, and you had another chance before you were out. Niragi's stare was obvious in your peripherals, but you sent a small smile to him to let him know that you were just fine. Rolling his eyes, he read the next question as it appeared.

‘Question Eight.

Would you rather:

♡ Drown

♤ Get set on fire’

Morbid and jarring at the same time, a stark contrast to the last question. It seemed like every few questions that were light-hearted also gave one question that was serious.

You'd rather neither entirely. You shuddered when you remembered your very first game and how the water completely submerged you in its grasp, leaving no room for escape until Niragi saved your life. If possible, you'd rather avoid large bodies of water for the rest of your life. Living next to the water on the beach resort was uneasy enough, although the pool was small and open enough to be fine.

You picked the spade.

After the minutes passed, the final person (Hoshiko, you knew, who was definitely overthinking the most due to his two dings) submitted their answer.

Your screen lit up green.

The chart was 50% for both answers, and you grew more hopeful that all four of you would pass the game together. Only two more.

‘Question Nine’

‘Would you rather fight:

♡ A gorilla

◇ A kangaroo

♧ A tiger

♤ A shark’

Your first thought was that Niragi might actually fight whatever option he picked. You felt like the easiest might be the shark, simply from the fact that you enjoyed ‘fun fact’ videos in your little spare time. Most sharks were passive upon crossing paths with humans, and did not blindly attack them unless they flailed around and tried to swim away, giving themselves away as easy prey. And, it never specified what type of shark, either. Fighting a lemon or mako would be easy as pie. You picked Spades with little thought for how the others might vote.

Your screen lit up red, as did Niragi's. 25% for shark, 25% for tiger while kangaroo had 50%. The white jacket guy breathed through his nose in what might be considered a laugh. You shot a look to him, wondering what could be so amusing at the prospect of three others dying right in front of his eyes. Even if Jacket Guy was the Outlier in the next round, he would survive.

Well, shit. Although it was only one more round, the three of you now all had two dings and the 10th round could very well make or break the entire thing.

Final question. You missed your lifeless room at The Beach.

‘Would you rather:

♡ Go back home

♧ Stay here?’

It felt like a pin dropped in the middle of the room. Unanimously, all of the answers were placed at once and the screens lit up green. The question felt sentient, like someone was behind the screen rather than an AI making up random questions. It was a taunt. Someone knew you were trapped here and even possibly had the power to bring people in or out.

“Game clear. All remaining players may exit.”

You tucked your head into your palms, dragging them across your face in ragged relief. Hoshiko stood like the seat he was on got lit on fire, jumping with all the energy any teenager should have but you never seemed to.

You watched Jacket Guy stand up cooly from his seat, hands stuffed into his pockets as he turned towards the exit, opening the door to see a table, probably holding the Club card on it.

“Wait,” you spoke up, chasing after him after your nerves settled and your throat no longer felt like you were being choked out by the tension.

He looked subtly over his shoulder at you, face still frustratingly neutral and holding no signs of being relieved that he had just won a Five of Clubs game.

“What's your name?” You asked politely after quickly introducing yourself. Bringing home a new resident as well as a decently valued card would make Hatter all the more content and allow you to be left alone until at least your next game.

“Why?” He asked, the first word spoken since you'd met.

“Can't I learn the name of the guy who I survived a game with?” You shrugged, eyes gleaming with the hope that he wasn't a huge jagoff like you suspected. Maybe he was simply socially inept.

“You won't see me again.” He stated matter-of-factly, walking away to the card table before he was cut off by Niragi, who made a show of snatching the card and pocketing it.

Great, now he would feel cornered.

“The lady asked you a question.”

Hoshiko stood awkwardly in the doorway, not having any experience recruiting players.

“Oh? Are you her guard dog?” Jacket Guy asked with a purring amusement in his deep voice.

Niragi was all too happy to whip his gun out, which had been strapped over his shoulder. “Want to find out?” He growled, inching closer while shoving the head of the gun to the other guy's face. Jacket Guy showed no indication of fear but had the wit to at least put his arms up, glancing sideways at you like you truly were Niragi's handler.

You set a hand on the gun, lowering it with a raised brow to Niragi. “We don't wanna fight. I'm just asking to be friendly, I promise you. It's good to have allies in this place.”

Jacket Guy hummed. “Shoving guns in people's faces gives off friendly vibes.”

You felt your face grow hot, glaring at the smirking Niragi. “It won't happen again. I wanted to extend an olive branch. You seem experienced in these games, am I right? Smart, useful—we're always looking for people like you.”

He only seemed to grow more amused, like he was listening to a child ramble on about their new favorite tv show or video game.

“We live in a sanctuary not far from here. The Beach. We have electricity, running water, and vehicles.” You nodded to the car parked just outside of the front entrance. “If you don't like it, you can leave. I'll even give you a car.” You offered.

That was a blatant lie, and Niragi and Hoshiko knew it well. Once you were recruited, you were a resident of The Beach and would live there until you died. All your previous thoughts of leaving were quickly nullified by Aguni's militant team growing in numbers and actually taking that part of their responsibilities seriously.

You'd offered it many times before, but it's not like anyone actually ever wanted to leave. This guy was no different from the others.

“You're in a position to hand out cars?” He asked.

You waved your, honestly extremely ugly, bracelet that had the key number ‘Six’ on it. “I'm an executive. I can do pretty much anything.” It wasn't too far off. You did get away with more stuff than the average person, probably because you had a suspicion that Hatter wanted to get in your pants (bikini) and buttered you up for it. It wasn't like you were abnormally smart like Mira, Ann, and Kuzuryu or strong like Aguni and Niragi, so your continued stay on the executive branch was something of an anomaly.

He seemed to think it over for a minute, looking to the streets as they seemed to grow dark once more as the games finished one by one. “Fine, I'll bite. I'm Chishiya.”

You smiled genuinely, glad to have brought another into the mix. You'd grown numb to the guilty feeling what felt like years ago, but in reality it was only weeks. The Beach was lawless and gave no sympathy for the weak, but ultimately if a person died from their games or being labeled a traitor—it was their fault, not the recruiters.

“You won't regret this, Chishiya.”

mira trying to pair up people who would lose their best friends in heart games core

actually not my proudest game idea, it came out more childish and simple than I imagined 🥲 I have others that are much more intense, but this was just a way to introduce Chishiya.

Their bracelets are so ugly. was originally gonna have one of MCs responsibilities be making the player's bracelets with actual materials but that was kind of a ridiculous notion lmao making like 200 bracelets for all the people plus more for the ones who needed replacement numbers when they die in games

longer or shorter chapters? idrk, this one's about 7k but took a while to pump out.

subtle forshadowing with answers hint hint

[sweetbunpura]

Fellow and Gidel first week in NRC

First week here and Fellow already hated these snot nosed spoiled brats. Sure, he and Gidel had lived on the streets so he had seen his fair share of fights. But the amount of fights to come out of this school in a mere week is absurd. Now, him and Gidel were on their way to get their check-up from the "wacky doctor" Grim had coined earlier. The door to the nurse's office greet them as the fox beastman opens it.

"Hello?"

No one's inside and Fellow thinks the doctor is out until he hears a sound from the backroom. A long haired brown man steps out of the room, white rabbit ears on his head as he carries a few files in his hands. His long speckled white tail pulls the door closed behind him. He also wore a set of dark glasses, which shielded his eyes from Fellow's view.

"Um..."

The man finally noticed him. "Oh, my bad." He tossed the files on his desk. "Are you the two I was told about?"

"Yes. I'm Fellow Honest and this is Gidel."

Gidel waved to him as the man sat down on one of the rolling chairs.

"I'm Howard Chestnut, NRC's Physician. Call me Chestnut."

Physician? Fellow frowned at the word as Chestnut wheeled his way over to a bed.

"I'll start with Gidel first." The beastman adjusted his glasses. "Are you his guardian?"

"Oh, yes."

"Alright." He patted the bed. "Come here, kid."

Gidel seemed hesitate as he hid behind Fellow, the fox beastman sighed and picked him up. He set him on the bed and stood nearby, watching as Chestnut went through the motions of a check-up. Height, weight, blood sample taken, lungs checked up, and the works. Afterwards, Chestnut ruffled Gidel's hair and gave him a lollipop before sending him off. Fellow's tail flicked nervously as the man turned his attention towards him.

"Your turn."

Fellow's shoulders slumped. "Is there anyway to avoid this?"

"You can, but I'm sure you would like the ability to move." He smirks, showing off his sharp canines.

He stares at him and actually takes in more of his features. Bunny ears, snow leopard tail, and sharp teeth. Fellow has heard talk of hybrids before, but had never seen one.

"You're a hybrid Beastman, aren't you?"

"....is that a problem?"

Fellow shivers at the glare he can feel behind those dark lens. "N-No, no problem whatso ever!"

Chestnut proceeds to take all of Fellow's vitals as he goes through the physical, although the fox beastman could've sworn he took his sweet time taking blood from him. Fellow already dislikes him and doesn't want anything more to do with him.

[ablobwhowrites]

Another y/n idea but I rewatched the Lego movie recently

MEGA YAP SESSION COMING UP

I love this Benny from the Lego movie dude. And was thinking of a y/n who is basically like Benny cause I think he's very neat and I don't know if I should make this y/n a superhero or just a weird little guy who has powers but just prefers to be in space sometimes.

This y/n can be used it other ideas for yandere stories but I'll keep this one open for any as one I thought of was cookie run, sonic?, digital circus, transformers?, and other stuff that I didn't put here but here's the first idea or concept of how this y/n kind is

Cause the first idea for this y/n who's like Benny the astronaut guy is for yandere cookie run stuff. Just him getting so excited about the cookies letting him build a spaceship or if anything space related that the cookies wanna know and y/n will yap about it and the cookies love all the cheerfulness y/n has and how like Benny in the Lego movie can just fly or float around but y/n keeps his space suit and no one knows why but leaves it cause y/n is happy (y/n probably has multiple of the same suit in his closet) so the tailor and fashion cookie give y/n clothes and stuff but he doesn't really wear it but does keep his space suit clean and once was caught in their pajamas while cleaning their space suit but the cookie never told a soul about it and the cookie was Caramel Choux Cookie who got worried when she saw upset y/n was about the big stain on his suit but got it properly washed because washing it the regular way wasn't getting the stain out.

Y/n is trying to repair his space ship as his friends the other astronaut are in space waiting for him to come back but oddly the supplies he got is always disappearing and the metal for his ship which frustrates y/n a lot and to bad their comlinks to the others doesn't work mysteriously as it was working yesterday and oddly something looks like it chewed the wires. Y/n gets so excited about gifts as all of them are space themed and it reminds him of home with his other friends as he feel some what homesick as he misses being at the base with his friends, going to collect rock samples to study, be in the cafeteria just to chat and hangout then being able to stare out the big windows to the stars and so much more but he tries to keep a good attitude about it as he will fix the ship and go back home! Eventually as there's much to do on earthbread than he thought and what the cookies say as well.

Y/n sometimes just spaces out and it worries some cookies who didn't know y/n did that but the others are fine with it as y/n just snaps out of it quickly after a few minutes or if his name is called. Y/n doesn't gets frustrated just like Benny does in the movie with the computer not listening. Y/n pulls the same expression when he gets frustrated with something not working the way it's supposed to or if he is just and the cookies find it adorable how y/n looks when frustrated but then help anyways they can if y/n let's them. Y/n floats around a lot sometimes and cookies who can fly just make sure y/n doesn't float to far away because that once happened before and was found on top of the cookie kingdoms rooftop at the tallest point and needed help down.

(That's it for my little yap session for today. If you guys like it and want more please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's you want! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[rannadylin]

Time for a knitting update! Summer vacation is upon us and all I want to do, now that my classroom is packed up for summer cleaning, is knit and play video games (and preferably play games that don't require my hands on the keyboard all the time so that I can knit while I play them; that is the summer ideal!) Thus, the last few weeks have been very productive.

I saw @yllene's Seashell Legwarmers on here a while ago and thought they looked way too cool to pass up on when test knitting opened, despite that I'd never done brioche before. Happily, I caught on quick enough and now I am obsessed with brioche knitting - so here are my Seashells and the other brioche patterns I've knit since then!

Alchemist's Moon Hat (from the Knitrino app, which very helpfully walks you through every row with videos explaining every stitch type, so it's actually a good one to start with for learning brioche - although the reversible hem at the end of it is not beginner stuff, that was trickier than any of the brioche I've done!) It's cleverly designed so that if you weave in the ends sneakily enough (which in brioche is totally doable) and sew that hem correctly, the hat ends up 100% reversible - the yellow and purple versions below are two sides of the same hat!

Liguria Hat, which is a much simpler increase/decrease pattern than it looks like, so very easy to memorize and I'll probably make it again!

And finally, I'm almost finished with a pair of Froth Fingerless Mitts from the Spring 2023 issue of Interweave Knits:

The pattern as written has...issues, and no errata I could find, but at this point I've done enough brioche (or just enough knitting in general, I guess) that I could look at the picture and say "Wait, these instructions aren't going to match what that actually looks like. This is two pattern repeats shorter than what I'm counting on the sample in the photo! *grabs pencil and edits* Nope, we're doing it this way!" It pretty much worked out to match the pictures. I think I could've used one more pattern repeat; I like my fingerless mitts to warm my fingers too, at least a little. I will be glad to be done with all the tubular bind-off on this one though. 😅

[heartfullofleeches]

femboy creep reader would def have one of those dentist teddy bears... but with real teeth that they took found

Some boys like roses, some like plies of teeth and bones left at their doorstep to use for their special art projects.

-

"I've sent you flowers, meals, my credit card information, even my medical records and samples of my blood when you asked - why won't you go out with me!"

Blocked. Didn't even send a full pint like you asked. You'll never have enough blood to finish that painting tucked away in your closet at this rate. Rolling onto your side, a knock at your window weeps away the brief flicker of tranquility you felt at ridding yourself of another parasite chasing after your tail. When will they learn that sweet gestures like those just aren't enough for a boy anymore?

Crawling out of bed, you walk over to window and take a peak outside. The thick layer of glass muffles footsteps growing fainter in the distance. Unlocking the latch, you open and lean out the window in an attempt to get a better look at them - knocking over the wrapped box left on the sill in the process.

"A gift?" It's not an entirely uncommon occurrence. You're used to them being left on your doorstep, but this was new. Long as they aren't trying to break in you can't really complain. You're tempted to throw it right out, but the wrapping paper- what a gorgeous shade of red. You pick at the tape as you walk back over to your bed, intending to salvage the paper for later use. The box pops as you peel back the final piece seeming to have none taped to the cardboard itself. You look inside. A fluffy brown bear looks back. You'd like to say they were smiling, but it would be pretty hard for them to do so with that giant hole in their mouth. A note sits on its little tummy, held in place by its tiny claws. You read aloud it to yourself.

"Have fun, pretty boy~ Got more for you on the way if you're willing to keep me around.

Much Love, your secret admirer."

The box was definitely heavier than the weight of a plush bear. Lifting your new friend out of the box, another prize awaits. You run your fingers over the eggshell colored object, trailing them downwards till you reach imperfections in its smooth surface. Sockets, nostrils, teeth. You toss the bear onto the bed and pull the second object out. A pair of pliers at the bottom of the box next to a photograph builds up the excitement fluttering in your stomach. Scooping the bear up in your arms, its jaws fall slack - a second note lodged in the back of its mouth.

"Call me. ;)"

You snuggle the bear to your chest- retrieving your phone from the nightstand.

"This is more like it. Don't worry, little guy. I'll give you all your teeth back- then we'll send whoever sent you a nice thank you message."