#and it’s like ok can you play this electric one

[alithetiredartist]

not to be overdramatic but in my willow centric human au the emerald entrails are a band

[st4rstudent]

I AGREE its so crazy how zap gags weren't a thing.... like TTCC really popped off with that one! i understand TTR is moreso sticking closer to the way TTO was but WOW zap just feels so natural with a REALLY good mechanic that uses strategy in using squirt and its just so good.... also my favorite track

YEEEPP!! That's how I feel about it. Squirt and zap just mix well together. I also think the addition of an 8th gag track was also a good move, allowing for a nice rotation of combinations (like how lure-trap and throw-drop are together as a combo). And also its a nice even number. I also think it helps utilize squirt, idk just feels good to do in general. Of course, I don't really have anything to compare this to and it's just me speaking as a player of (currently) one server, so take what I say with a grain of salt.

It's my favorite too, zap warriors UNITE!!

[bookishdreamer28]

𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Theodore was watching you again, sitting in the back of the class with a friend of yours. Your laughter made something stir in him, and once you looked his way he turned back around. Oh how he loved this sound. A sound he can never get tired of. He hated how you made me feel things he never felt before. He hated it how much you had meant to him and he hated it that he had admire you from afar, afraid to give in to the feeling of love and affection. But at the same time, he felt things that he wanted to experience only with you. He truly needed this more than anything.

He closed his eyes and sighed to himself, feeling frustrated by how useless it was to act like this.

"You know, don't expect anything to happen if you sit all alone sulking. If you like the girl then go tell her. You two have been on and off for like, a month or so"

"I really don't need advices from you about love Riddle" He looked at Mattheo annoyingly.

Mattheo sat down and rolled his eyes at his-foolish in love but won't admit it- friend.

"Just a small piece of advice, do something before it's late mate" he pated his shoulder and turned his attention on his book. Theo looked at Mattheo one last time before he suddenly got up and left the class, your eyes following him.

-

"Theo!" He heard your voice calling him and froze in his tracks. When you reached him, you smiled up at him and his breath hitched at the sight.

"You forgot your book in the class" you handed out the book to him and waited for him take it. When his hand reached to grab it, your fingers slightly touched and you felt something like electric going through your bodies. You let out a small gasp and Mattheo's eyes went to your parted lips.

He gulped and started leaning closer instinctively, and you did the same. Your lips were only an inch away each other, but you pulled apart as you heard the guys approaching.

"Y/N!" Enzo said excitedly and hugged you tight. You giggled, and you looked at Theo, who had a cold expression on his face.

"Sorry did we perhaps interrupted some-"

"Let's go" Theo said and without the others noticing, he softly touched your fingers, making you smile.

-

When he found you playing guitar right outside the hallways, he just sat somewhere so he wouldn't bother you, and rested his back on the wall behind him, closing his eyes, letting the tune of the music you play allure him in the sweetest daydream.

He then opened his eyes, and looked at you, wanting to print the image of the sunlight bathing your soft skin, the wind flowing your hair into a beautiful curtain of silky waves, your lips...oh those lips. Glossy and kissable. So kissable.

He cursed under his breath. He knew he had fallen for you hard from the moment your shining eyes met his, and he gladly let himself drowning in them. But he found it so hard to express how he felt for you and let himself feel anything. He pushed some of his locks off his forehead and left the tower, without noticing that you had already seen him.

-

"Remind me again, why you like to make yourself suffer?" Enzo said to Theo as he continued playing cards with Matt and Draco.

"Exactly what I've been saying to him from the moment I figured out he likes the girl"

"Like, is understatement"

"Will you just Shut UP?!" Theo frustratedly pushed his hair back and continued playing with his tie.

"Now these, will not help you mate. They won't make you forget or ignore the fact that you're in love with this girl" Mattheo patted his friend's shoulder and Theo sighed, feeling defeated.

"I...I don't know what to do ok? I mean, I have never felt this before and I never planed to fall in love-"

"Please, there's no planning in these kind of things. They just happen. It hits the moment you don't expect it"

"Ah, and what exactly You know about love Mattheo?" Pansy walked in, holding a few books.

"In case you didn't know, I'm the most romantic person in this room soo.." Theo rolled his eyes and then smirked at his friend.

"Romantic my ass" Draco murmured under his breath.

"Heard that!" Matt looked sharply at him.

"Good" Draco kept playing unbothered.

"Anyways, all you have to do is to finally tell her you feel, before is too late"

"What do you mean 'too late'?" Theo curiously asked.

"Maybe someone else will take a like in her" Enzo teased him and watched as Theo's face hardened.

-

It was late at night when Theo decided to go for a walk to the great lake. The night was peaceful and majestically beautiful, something that made him think of you for once again.

"Since when did I become so sappy?" He thought to himself.

He suddenly felt like turning around, go back to the castle and look for you, so he can talk to you alone. But before he could do that, he caught a dark figure heading to the lake too. He trying to stay hidden behind a tree so he can take a better look, but the figure was already gone.

He walked a bit faster and when he had finally reached the lake, he felt his body tensing and hesrt racing.

You were sittind down on the soft grass, head thrown back and eyes closed, as you enjoyed the night cool breeze hitting your face. The whole scene looked like it came out of a painting. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to leave but at the same time, he wanted to stay here. With you.

"How long will you just stand there?" Yoir voice shook him out of his thoughts, and his face started burning.

"I'm sorry I just thought that I was all alone here" he started walking your way, in small steps. You opened your eyes and looked at him, smiling softly. He exhaled a breath he felt like he was holding for hours, and sat down next to you.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" You whispered as you stared at the castle.

But Theo's eyes were fixed on you, and only you. When you got no reply, you turned to look at him and inhaled sharply when your eyes found his.

"Oh Y/N" he whispered and his fingers laced with yours. You didn't need to sya anything. You didn't need words. You just need to feel each other. Touch each other. You waited too long just for you to let it go slow.

Without a second thought, his lips crashed on yours, and your cupped his face savoring the moment. The kiss was intense and full of excitement and desire, which made you forget about everything. When he bite your lip and heard a lttle moan escape your mouth, he lost it.

"The taste of your lips is...so intoxicating" he murmured against your lips and kissed you once more, not getting enough of the feeling of your lips finally touching his.

He slowly and carefully, laid your body on the soft grass, as he laid on the side and used his arm for you to lay your head on. He looked at you adoringly and laughed at himself.

"What?" You giggled and touched his sfot curls.

"It's just unbelievable. All this. You and me, kissing and just being together" he whispered the last part and his hand ran through your soft locks, as he leaned down to leave a sweet kiss on your forehead. "I mean, it was so hard bot to fall for you"

You laughed and touched his face, tracing softly your fingers softly on his skin.

"So cheesy"

"Oh I just know you love it" he laughed and took your hand in his.

"Hhmm...I love you" you whispered and Theo stopped playing with your hair.

You felt like it was too soon and you were ready to say sorry but Theo saw the worry in your eyes and he immediately grabbed your face, so you can look at him.

"I love you" he smiled softly and bent down to capture your lips with his own. You hummed into it and you hugged his body closer to yours, getting lost in your own world once again in the middle of the night.

And here is an Theo x reader post 🙌

Thank you for reading luvs!!

[mountainsandmayhem]

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Summary: Your husband Marcus challenges you to a little game.

CW: Pleasure Dom, vibrators, unprotected p in v (they’re married, it’s ok), ass play, Marcus gets a little mean, name calling (slut and whore), pet names (baby, sweet heart, etc.), edging, teasing, squirting, fingering, crying.

AN: Why do I IMMEDIATELY start writing for Pike when I’m ovulating?? Also this is definitely not beta’d.

Word Count: 2773

“Sweet girl?”

Marcus’s soft voice floats across your bare skin. You’re splayed out, every inch exposed to him. He has pressed his lips to every part except the one you want him to most. He’s been kissing and licking from your lips to your back, to your chest, then your arm skipping to the back of your leg. Treating your body like his own personal slalom course. Rolling you back and forth as he needed. The occasional graze of his teeth when you became too pliant, a yelp filling your dimly lit bedroom.

“Yeah?” You whisper, his strong hands guiding you to roll onto your back.

“Here.” He states. Your hooded gaze meets his. He’s holding your favourite vibrator out to you.

You lick your lips and revel in the way his soft brown eyes immediately watch your warm tongue trace along your lips; lips he loves to kiss so much. “What’s that for?”

“Figured we could play a little game.” He smiles at the confused furrow of your brows as he continues. “I’ll count down from thirty while you play with yourself, when I get to one, you can come.”

You nod and close your hand around the vibrator. He tugs on it roughly, snapping you to be at his full attention. “But you can only come when I get to one. Do you understand?”

The flutter in your chest is almost immediate at the bossy tone in his voice. “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praises as his hand lets go of the black silicone toy. “Go ahead, click it on and start playing with yourself.”

You turn it on low and gently place it on your clit. Electricity feels like it’s humming through your veins and you gasp out.

“Thirty.”

Marcus climbs off the bed and slowly drags his white t-shirt over his head as you watch him.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, and fuck, you’re already so wet. Is that from me?”

“Yes. Yes. Oh god.”

His boxers slide down next, his thick cock slapping his stomach when it springs free.

“Twenty-nine. That’s it, baby. Keep swirling your toy around your clit. Just like that. Good girl.”

Lastly, he slides off his socks, tossing everything into the laundry hamper.

“Twenty-eight. Keep that vibrator on that pretty little clit, baby.”

He slides back into the bed, laying on his side next to you, his elbow resting on the bed to cradle his head in hand. You turn your head towards him, nose rubbing against his thick neck.

“Marcus,” you whine.

“Whining already? We’ve only just started. Twenty-seven. You can do it.”

You can feel your orgasm already ready to crest. He’s been teasing you for over half an hour already. The silicone head of the vibrator easily glides around your clit.

“Please, sir.”

“Twenty-six. Please what?” He whispers into your temple, kissing your hairline.

“Let me come.”

He laughs silently, “So needy. We just started, sweet girl.”

It’s quiet for a moment between the two of you as you lift the vibrator from yourself, unsure of your ability to hold it even after years of him training you to come practically on command.

“No, no. Don’t make me tie you up and make it worse for you,” he says deeply.

You whine, placing the vibrator back where he wants it and bringing your legs together.

“Twenty-five. God, baby, you look so beautiful right now.”

You focus on your breathing. Slow and controlled inhales, anything to distract from how badly you want to let go.

“Can you spread your legs for me, honey? Twenty-four.”

You moan in disagreement and his hand comes to your chin, pinching it between his fingers and bringing your gaze to his.

“Twenty-three. You’re doing so good for me. Did you know that?”

You nod into his grasp. “Fuck, sir. Please.”

He kisses your lips gently and whispers. “Mmm - I love making you beg. Twenty-two.”

“I’ll do - hnnng - anything, baby. Let me come,” you say between gasps.

“Anything?” He grinds his hard cock onto your hip. “Make me an offer. What will you do if I let you come right now.”

His hand moves from your chin to the wrist that’s holding your toy, flicking it up slightly to that spot that makes you lose all sense of yourself. That little spot that he knows will have you falling apart in seconds.

“Nonono. I can’t. Marcus, fuuuuck.”

“Twenty-one. Not yet. Don’t you dare come yet.”

You slam your legs together again, squeezing every muscle in your body as tight as possible is the only way for you to stop your orgasm from happening. You sob out a cry of desperation and Marcus releases your wrist.

“Good girl, but you gotta spread your legs or I’m going to get the spreader bar out. Twenty.”

You try to slow your breathing, moving the vibrator down a little bit as you open your legs for your husband again.

“That’s it, just like that. What will you do for me if I let you come right now.” The tip of his hooked nose runs along the bridge of yours, his soft brown eyes melting into you.

“My ass,” you say breathily. Every single thing about Marcus Pike is overwhelming. He has a way of making the room feel smaller.

He smirks, a dimple carving into his soft and clean shaven cheek. “My little slut gonna let me fuck her ass if I let her come? Nineteen.”

“Yesyes - god, yes. Please, sir.” You’re practically writhing in pleasure, hanging right on the edge, lava bubbling in your core just waiting to erupt.

“Fuck you sound so good when you beg.” He groans, his cock pushing harder into the meat of your thigh. He sits up adjusting himself to sit between your legs. “Open up for me, sweet girl.”

At this angle, you can see his flat, toned stomach. The slight v of his hips leading to his perfect cock. Long and thick, his balls taut to his body with arousal. The slit of the velvety tip leaks a milky bead of pre cum that makes your mouth water.

“Eighteen. Should I get the lube, baby? Get you all nice and ready for me while you play with yourself?”

You nod frantically, “please! Please let me come and then fuck my ass!”

“Mmmm - I love when dirty words leave that beautiful mouth.”

One of his strong hands wraps around your hip, the other up to his mouth. He spits, then reaches down to prep you.

“Seventeen.”

“Fuck, Marcus. Fuuuuck. Can I come now?”

He shakes his head, “mm-mmm, not yet. I know you can take more.”

His strong fingers circle the sensitive skin of your ass. Jolts of pleasure cause you to arch off the bed.

“Sixteen. You’re doing so well. So perfect for me. I love you so much.”

His pointer finger pushes harder at the tight ring of muscle. “Can I come, sir? Please. Let me come and you can fuck my ass.”

He leans over you, moving his hand from your hip to plant beside your head. He looks down at you darkly, the softness from early gone. “You seem to be forgetting one thing, baby girl. You don’t make the rules here.”

His hand moves away from your ass and you feel the tears of frustration pooling in your eyes. “Fifteen,” he says with a wink.

You can’t stop both the tears and the orgasm, it’s only a matter of time before one takes you. The first time Marcus made you cry with need it unlocked something inside of him, a deep and sinister rush of endorphins. Crying kink, neither of you knew it was a thing, and now he almost gets off on it when it happens to you. Just the sight of you sobbing in needy frustration is almost enough to make him explode.

“Uh oh,” he says cockily. “Are you gonna cry?”

“No,” you half whine, half moan.

“No? Fourteen. Cuz it looks like my little whore is so desperate for it that she’s about to cry.”

“No. No. I’m not. Just please, sir. I can’t - I can’t.”

“Cry for me. Cry for me and I’ll skip down to ten,” he growls.

You break, blinking the tears of pent up sexual frustration to flow free. Marcus groans at the big tears rolling down your cheeks. Each word out of his mouth is its own sentence as he says. “Desperate. Little. Whore. Thirteen.”

Your bedroom fills with your lust filled cry, “You said ten.”

He lowers his face to yours, kissing a tear off your cheek. “Twelve”. He moves swiftly, kissing a tear off the other side, “Eleven”. And then moves again, catching one along your hairline, “ten”.

He sits up, “what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you murmur.

“That’s my girl,” his eyes trail down your body, his hand returning to grip your hip tightly. “Let me take this now, sweet girl.”

You sniffle and pout up at him, knowing he’s going to go exactly where you can’t fight it. “Be nice - Please be nice, Marcus.”

His hand wraps lightly around yours on the vibrator. “Don’t cry anymore, my love. You’re almost there. I’m so fucking proud of you for holding on.”

He smiles warmly at you and as your face mirrors his you let go of the vibrator. “Nine, that’s a good girl.”

He clicks the vibrator up a speed and runs it up and down your soaking wet cunt. Lightly grazing your clit with each pass. “She’s crying for me too. Eight. God damn, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Your hands move to fist the sheets, your feet planting on the bed as you watch your beautiful husband play with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, it’s getting harder and harder to hold on.

“You’re a masterpiece. Did you know that?” He clicks the vibrator up again, still trailing up and down, your arousal making everything slick for him. “This pussy belongs in a museum. So pretty. Seven.”

You scream as he flicks it along that spot that ruins you. His hand on your hip squeezes a few times before releasing. His finger coming to your lips. “Suck,” he instructs. You slide his fingers eagerly into your warm mouth, “Six. Fuuuuck.”

You bob your head up and down, gagging as his thick digits hit the back of your throat. Once they’re wet enough for him he pulls them free, spit landing on your chin as he brings his fingers down to your cunt.

“You're clenching so hard I can barely see the entrance. Let me in, sweetheart.” He presses, fingers slipping into your needy cunt, your walls gripping and pulling him in. “So tight. Shit. Five.”

Once his fingers are all the way in he turns to be palm up. Your eyes widen as he curls them forward, not moving them around, just putting pressure on that spongy spot of your anterior wall. “Aaaah, baby, fuckfuckfuck.”

“Hold it. Fuck, I can feel it. I can feel all that cum you’re holding in. Four. Doin so good. Almost there.” He flicks his wrist up, the vibrator and his strong fingers now pushing on the two spots that make you crumble. Your screams of pained pleasure echo through the room.

“I can’t. I can’t. Fuck fuck. I can’t.” You repeat it over and over, squeezing harder.

“Three, I got you. You can do this, my wife. My perfect little slut. Almost, almost fucking there.” He clicks the vibrator up again and it takes every ounce of energy you have left not to push free and use your safe word. “Fuckin pussy is clenching my fingers so tight. Shit, I wanna feel this orgasm on my cock. Can I go inside of you, baby?”

You mumble ‘yes’ over and over, all your muscles going slack, your bones going soft. Everything comes back to life as he slides his fingers out. You gasp at the sensation then whine at the loss of the feeling of him.

“Gonna be full of me soon, don’t whine.” He brings his now free hand to his lips and sucks your juices from his fingers. The sides of your vision blur from the pleasure of the vibrator until you only see him. He spits into his hand and fists his cock, pumping it a few times to get it nice and wet.

“Two,” he growls, and then without warning slams himself to the hilt.

“Fuck, Marcus. Fuck. Fuck. I need - Please, sir.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, babe. I’ve never felt her this tight and juicy before. You gonna gush all over me. I can feel it.”

The lava in your core starts to erupt, you can’t fight it anymore. You’ll take the punishment if he wants, but you’re convinced you can’t hold it any longer.

He removes the vibrator and softly says, “Eyes on me.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed, they flutter open to meet his gaze. “It’s time baby. Are you ready?”

“Oh god, Marcus. Please. I need to come.”

“I know, sweet girl. I know. I want you to gush all over me, okay?” He clicks the vibrator up 3 notches and presses it roughly against your aching, puffy clit. “One. Come for me.”

You explode and implode all at the same time. Pleasure rocking through every limb. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your hands wrapped in the sheets, your back arches off the bed and you aren’t sure if you’re screaming loudly or silently. All that you are is the euphoria of this long overdue orgasm.

“Fuckin gushing all over the place. That’s it, baby. Push into it. Good girl. Let it take you.”

The walls of your pussy flutter, gripping your husband's perfect cock over and over. Your hips rock up and down in a jerky, uneven pattern as you squirt all over him.

“Look at you. Fuck, gonna make me come, honey. Don’t stop,” he praises encouragingly.

You let the orgasm continue to course through you, your throat hoarse from screaming his name. Finally, you feel it, the warmth of his cum, filling you up and mixing with your own cum. He throws the vibrator to the side and fucks you through his high as you finally start to come down from yours. He moans your name loudly as he reaches his peak and then collapses down onto you, kissing you deeply as you both twitch with the aftershocks.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently as your lips break apart from one another.

You smile sweetly and nod. “Ya, that was amazing.”

“I’m sorry I made you cry,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose.

“It’s ok, Marcus. You already know that these are the only kind of tears you’re allowed to cause.” You reach up and run your fingers through his short hair. “You’re perfect.”

He blushes slightly at your praise and you think again how incredibly lucky you are to have this amazing man in your life. “We should clean up and get some sleep.”

He slips his softened cock out of you and heads into the bathroom. He grabs you a wet cloth and a soft towel. He hates that you want to clean yourself up after nights like this, he feels like it should be part of his aftercare, but you’ve explained how sensitive you are he’s learned to let it go.

He watches as you wipe away the mixture of both of your arousals and then pat yourself dry with a hiss. The sound of your distress has him moving towards you, concern and worry etched across his face.

“I’m okay,” you state. “Just sore.”

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, tossing the towel and wet cloth towards the hamper.

“No,” you giggle. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard. That was amazing.”

“Good,” he laughs. “Let me help you up. You need to pee before we go to sleep.”

You whine as he grabs your hands and pulls to help you sit. “Sleepy,” you pout.

“Go. Then we can sleep.” He pats your bum as you walk past him, feet dragging on the soft carpet of your bedroom.

When you get back to bed Marcus is on his back, both arms behind his head. You smile at him sleepily before tucking yourself against him, your leg draped over him and your head resting on his strong chest. The arm closest to you comes to wrap around your bare back, his hand finding its home on your hip once more. “I love you,” he whispers.

You barely get out that you love him too before sleep takes you.

[slowd1ving]

STRESS, STRAIN: THE TALE OF YOUNG MODULUS AND A FORLORN PHYSICS STUDENT ゜゜・BLADE DRABBLE

Dealing with a stalker roommate? No problem, Kafka's got the perfect solution: staying with the unapproachable and cold Blade. Teetering the thin line between sleeping on the streets and facing his rumored wrath, it sure is hard keeping your balance when the engineering student is anything but civil. gender-neutral, physics major reader paired with college au + band au (will come into play in another part I swear) see here for some basic designs for them warnings: some violence? consumption of alcohol, arguments, blade being a dick, college au wc: 6.3k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

✧ Perhaps it’s lucky that your acquaintance Kafka finds you at your most dire of moments, or perhaps it’s your Achilles-level misfortune finally catching up to you. Dorm changes aren’t particularly infrequent, sure—but dealing with a stalkerish, obsessive roommate is definitely story-material for when you’re downing shots. Literature major Kafka isn’t one to turn her magnanimous back on whom she considers a friend, even if said friend is currently wallowing their sorrows away by complaining about the lack of available dorms to make the switch and drowning in hard liquor.  ✧ Saviour Kafka, who plays for notorious metal group Stellaron Hunters (she’s a suave electric violinist), finds this a perfect opportunity to help out the cute guitarist from the rival Trailblazers! Her deft fingers are already sending a message to her pinned contact and drummer: Bladie, finally found you a roommate. Respond. It should be okay to put two college students (in bands infamous for their tense rivalry on– and off–campus) together in the proverbial lab rat cage; after all, neither of you are aware of who the other is behind the elaborate masks. It’s not like there’s a deficit of music groups at the Astral Institute—so who will ever know? Don’t ask how she knows the face behind the pretty Venetian mask. She won’t ever tell.   ✧ Honestly, she’s not sure how the bad blood started (she helped spread the rumours). All she cares about is doing you a solid!

“You think the streets will accept me for who I am?” Even with your head slumped over your forearms and the smell of cheap vodka clinging to your clothes, Kafka thinks you look naively charming in the dim amber lights of a bar pretending to be upscale. And by naive, she means very naive—for real, how can a physics major be so gullible as to not question their roommate’s deranged tendencies until it’s far too late? It’s hilarious. 

She’d dissect how this mood is perfectly, pathetically fallacious to your situation; yet her mind is too honed in on the buzz of her phone as Blade finally replies to her text. 

“Kafka,” you bawl into a stack of papers you’d salvaged from your ransacked dorm. “What if the asphalt doesn’t like me when I’m sleeping in the streets?”

21:48 > ok. 

Kafka, being an expert at metaphorical and allegorical interpretation, translates Blade-speak easily: let’s discuss this tomorrow, please and thank you. 

“Found you a roomie,” she murmurs delightedly, watching with her hawk-keen eyes as you sit up drunkenly. 

“That was fast, even for you,” you wipe your eyes cautiously—still wracked with the occasional hiccup. “Who is it?”

“Blade. You know him?”

✧ That sobers you right up.  Of course you know him. Nicknamed Blade for how cold and unfriendly he is, you’ve personally seen him in engineering lectures: making people shiver from just his gaze alone, and on one notable occasion, making his project partner cry after his infamously harsh criticism of her proposal. It’s common knowledge that he practises various martial arts, but the rumours that circle around him like vultures whisper of how he uses them on the streets. But whilst you doubt the reliability of the latter talk, it’s hard not to picture his hands dripping sanguine when his eyes glint the same shade.  ✧ Honestly, how bad could it be? It’s not like you have any other options unless you want to wake up with your roommate standing over you while you sleep again. After her, you doubt he’ll be any more of a walking nightmare.  ✧ Perfect!—Kafka is a bit too enthusiastic at your reluctant nodding, but you cast it from your mind as you pack your stuff with Caelus and Stelle standing behind you like a pair of twin guard dogs. One good thing about this is that you can finally take your guitar with you (rather than storing it safely at Dan Heng’s room) to the apartment—because of course he’s too good for the dorms. Though, after experiencing your batshit roommate, you really can’t blame him for avoiding this area.  ✧ Maybe, just maybe, the rumours about him being insane too are false and you can finally have a peaceful night’s rest without fearing for your life. 

Yeah right. You hate him. You genuinely hate the man over in the room next door. The passage of time on your phone indicates it’s only been a week since you showed up with five boxes of belongings and a nervous smile on your lips—but the agony you’re going through prolongs this mental period to eternity. 

Sisyphus embodies futility for evermore; as do you when you’re knocking on his door for the nth time to beg him to quiet down on his drums. The timings are so meticulous and calculative that you’re sure you could work out a linear sequence to this situation if you tried. 

Exhausted from the laboratory job you’re juggling on top of band practice and reading on Dirac notations? No problem—Blade’s busy expressing how you feel in terms of loud crashing and banging that you hate to admit is (very technically) skilled.

Recalling your first encounter—your nervous smile and his cold indifference as you moved into the room next to his—it’s not hard to imagine that he’d be inconsiderate of you. Those red eyes had slid right past you like oil on water: judging you to be not worth his time to even greet properly. In fact, it’s like he’s trying to chase you out so you leave him alone for good. 

The deep mahogany door swings inward, and you’re left facing an unimpressed, scowling Blade. With the way he’s clutching those drumsticks, you’d think he was about to skewer you—but you’re a bit too preoccupied with how he’s only sporting a pair of loose navy trousers that cascade languidly from his hips. 

“What do you want?” Laconic as ever, he gets straight to the point with his question—as if he can’t possibly fathom why you’ve come knocking. Just like this morning, just like last night, the night before, the night before yesterday’s—every damned night is a problem. 

“For you to invest in soundproofing,” you scowl back, too tired to keep up the fragile facade of politeness. At least when you practise with the electric guitar, you can easily hook it up to a pair of headphones and protect the sanctity of silence elsewhere. Actually, you don’t think he even knows your guitar exists with how considerate you are of your asshole roommate. 

“Why should I?” he crosses his arms, looking directly down at you. If you looked closely, the slight stretch of his lips resembled a smirk—but you’re definitely mistaken, since the man never so much as smiles. The cold expression accompanying his crude words sums up his thoughts: if you don’t like it, beg Kafka for whatever other solution she has. 

His inky hair sways from where it’s tied back, and you resist the urge to yank it until he sees sense. 

“For better quality of life,” you grit out. 

Those eyes turn into sardonic crescents. “I’m good.”

And the door is shut. 

✧ Fortunately, you’ve managed to fall asleep in the middle of the practise room before on countless occasions; tuning the heavy thumping comes easy after a while when you’re exhausted and practically dead on your feet. The problem is during the day—doing your assigned reading and writing up results from practical work comes much harder when you’re constantly accompanied by the rhythmic percussion of a madman who favours metal. It gets so rowdy that you seriously consider whether he’s part of the Stellaron Hunters and knows you’re a Trailblazer—it would make sense, after all, if he was just feeling extra spiteful. However, from the trembling students claiming to be his previous roommates, this is just common treatment: him basically telling them to beat it and never return.  ✧ Two can play at that game. Upon complaining to Kafka of his (rage-inducing) musical tendencies, she suggests that you get back at him with your electric guitar. Don’t ask her how she knows, no she’s not trying to instigate and watch the chaos—Kafka attempts to reassure you. You don’t trust the shady writer one bit, but both Data Analysis major Dan Heng and Environmental Studies student March 7th give the plan the go ahead. If you’re not mistaken, you can hear a touch of personal grief in the normally composed Dan Heng’s voice—something so poignantly irritated you wonder what the story between them is.  ✧ Contrary to his nonchalant attitude, it’s clear he’s annoyed by the loud chords that buzz through the apartment. As soon as he picks up his drumsticks, you plug the guitar to the amps and thoroughly mess with him. You know enough from Caelus’ repertoire to place each genre of music Blade starts to play (which is limited to metal). No problem—you play various styles that decidedly aren’t metal and are so discordant with his own tempo you can’t help but keep a grin on your lips. He’s much too stubborn to knock on your door, but the irritated twitch of his eyes in the kitchen belies just how aggravating this is. And when you know he’s scrawling down notes for his classes, that’s when you’re practising your metal riffs and playing around with the fretboard. If you’re feeling particularly nice, you’ll play along to some darkwave gothic music—something relatively more calm—but these occasions are few and far between. 

Chromatic eyes pierce your back while you deftly chop vegetables for your dinner. Really, now’s the best time to do work: when you’re busy with cooking and not insistent on plaguing him with jarring melodies. For someone so logical when it comes to his meticulous classwork, he sure doesn’t seem it as he leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen—sipping water and just staring at you while you Julienne an onion. 

You shoot him a withering glance as you toss the slices into a bowl on the side, and he glares at you with a matched fervour. If it weren’t for the fact that you literally don’t have anywhere else to go—Caelus doesn’t even have a couch for you to sleep on—you’d have moved out a long time ago. 

It’s a rustic space: sage green cabinets filled with charming, mismatched plates and cups; glossy white counters that house various herbs and the occasional plant; a lacquered table in the middle that has a vase holding a singular dried flower. An orange lily—still retaining a vibrancy that conceals just how long it’s been there. You wouldn’t have expected this style of decor from him, but at the same time, you doubt it’s his influence so much as Kafka’s. 

“Do you have a problem?” you probe icily, turning back to where you’re slicing a carrot into thin matchsticks; if there was a god somewhere, you’d hope it could transfigure the man behind you into the root vegetable you’re enthusiastically chopping. 

“No.” And when he speaks again, he’s right behind you. There’s a sink to your left, but he’s much too close as his breath ghosts over the nape of your neck. Affronted, you turn around; only to watch as his eyes widen minutely, glass of water slipping out of his grasp and spilling down your front. 

“You dickhead.” Your hands angrily grab at his collar—unheeding or perhaps uncaring of his reputation for violence as you feel the cold seep into your skin. You’re seething; for someone with such good reflexes, this is a new level of low in attempting to chase you out. Or perhaps it’s revenge for finally getting under his skin. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

It’s a little too late when you realise the position you’re in: skin showing through the translucent material, breathing shallow from your infuriation, face glaring right up at his. 

“Sorry.” His voice rings out insincere—and there’s that damn faint smile still toying at his face as he looks directly at you with that heavy gaze. “My hand slipped.”

You shove him back, too disgusted to acknowledge him any further. Maybe if you turned back around, you’d see the tiniest pricks of red on his face as you tossed your soaked shirt into the washing machine—leaving you in a damp vest while you continued cooking for yourself. Maybe if you looked back at least once, you’d see the amusement in his eyes as you maul the bok choy on the cutting board. 

Those are maybes.

There’s particular things you know for certain. One, you despise him and his existence. Two, he abhors you and your entire being—because why else would he be so insistent in making you leave out of your own volition?

✧ It’s the time of year that you hate: joint engineering classes so you can cover the materials aspect for your physics studies. Well, it’s not like you hated it from the very beginning—you’ve hated it ever since you realised that once again, you’d have to be in the incorrigible presence of Blade. While he did finally install some soundproofing in his room, he’s taken it upon himself to linger wherever you’re present. Typing up your notes on the deep maroon couch with a mug of lavender tea perched on the coffee table? He’s in the window seat, looking over a thick reference manual for tensile strengths. Going to meet bassist Dan Heng so the two of you can play around with various lines for your next song? He’s at the convenience store you briefly stop at, gazing at you before he glares at your friend. Practising a slow solo in the living room (it’s really got the best ambience)? He’s tapping out a beat that you can very faintly now hear—one that surprisingly goes with the electrifying chords.  ✧ Point is, you’re ignoring him and his presence—while he’s inching ever closer. It comes to a head at the lecture hall; you decide to sit in the third row, since it’s both far from the back (where he usually frequents) and it doesn’t make you look like a beg. When you glance at his predestined seat, it’s empty—unsurprisingly as he’s there usually a minute before the professor—while the seat next to him is taken by a girl you’ve seen before. Despite his horrible personality and the (probably true) rumours surrounding him, there’s a few stragglers who genuinely want him. And you genuinely want those people to seek help because it’s clear something went wrong in their lives for them to be thirsting over a man who looks like he eats cigarettes for breakfast.  ✧ He comes in late, as you expect, but you freeze as he places his bag down next to you. Aghast, you can’t help but stare; yet for once he’s not meeting your eyes, and it’s far too late to make a scene and move elsewhere—not when the professor’s just arrived and is keen to start the lecture for materials. He doesn’t talk much, but you’re so distracted by his presence pressing slightly into your sides that you forget that today the professor’s deciding on the pairs for your projects—mouth agape, you stare in shock as she assigns them based on who’s sitting nearby. To be generous, she says, yet there’s nothing generous about this arrangement as his mocking eyes meet yours. He knew, you seethe, storming out of the hall right as the class wraps up. 

“I hate him.” Your molars grind bone-against-bone as you harshly press angry chords into the fretboard. “I hate him so so so so much.”

“Who are you talking about?” March 7th—in charge of the synthesiser—glances first at the bassist to your side, then back at you. Her eyes are wide in sympathy, yet it’s useless in the face of your despair. 

“Blade.” Poetically, the word is accompanied by the deep twang of Smoke on the Water as your fingers move mindlessly on your precious baby. What, your roommate?—she queries. No, a pet fish—Caelus responds, but you tune them both out. 

“He knew the professor would assign groups like that,” you groan. “That’s why he sat next to me.”

“He’s definitely trying to get you to leave his apartment out of your own will,” Dan Heng’s smooth cadence is somewhat soothing—and his conjecture is one you’ve come to yourself—but the accompanying baseline he’s playing to the song makes his theory sound comical. “But he won’t screw up his own project like that.”

You sigh, and the melody falls apart as you bring it to a grinding halt. 

“Believe me, I know just how much he values his projects.” Your head throbs upon thinking about that poor girl sobbing, and the bassist coughs to stifle a laugh. 

“What did he say that one time? ‘Your vapid idea would be better used on death row than as a functioning building’,” Stelle—the vocalist and also the only Psychology major you know who doesn’t unnervingly stare at you—imitates the deep reverberations of his voice, and you’re astonished at how it’s recalled verbatim (down to the exact adjective).

“I’m surprised it got round that far,” you suppress a smile—after all, it’ll be your head on the chopping block next. “You should’ve gone into theatre like Caelus did.” 

What a waste of talent, you shake your head mock-ruefully, which quickly turns to true woe as you realise just the predicament you’re in. 

✧ It’s not a complicated assignment. Well, it shouldn’t be: designing a sound structure based on the whims of the architectural class (whom you loathe); except that Blade is notorious for being a severe critic for civil engineering partnerships—like seriously, out of all hills to die on and it’s civil engineering. You begrudgingly create a new contact for him in your phone; a digital space just for him, which almost makes you throw up at the thought.

(+2 unread messages) <Dickhead> (new contact) 10:11 > library.  10:11 > east block, 20 minutes.

You stare incredulously at the chat, which is neither phrased as a question nor a request but an encrypted demand. The fuck? Infuriated, you take the break between your reps now rather than later, swilling down water while you irritably type out a reply. 

No can do. < 10:15 I’m busy. < 10:16

The reply comes less than a minute later; three dots animating themselves into existence while you wipe the sweat off your face with a towel. This prick. Well, it’s not so much a reply as an acknowledgement of your words—because he doesn’t reply, but rather your phone starts buzzing and you fumble while looking at the expletive lit up brightly on the screen. 

You’re sorely, sorely tempted to press the red receiver on the device. 

“What do you want?” you scowl, and you hope it translates through your voice that you’re revolted by his mere radio presence. 

“Where are you?” He ignores your question; voice vibrating low through your headphones, and you can’t help but shiver, just a little. Even through the thick towel, you can still feel crescents being formed in your palm from your nails—you sincerely wish you were throttling him instead. 

“None of your business.” 

There’s a budding migraine blossoming to life in your temple as you finally hang up. You think that’s the end of it—after all, it was literally yesterday that the groups were assigned. 

But when you shoulder the gym door open—skin still damp and warm from your shower, clean clothes sticking ever so slightly to laved skin—there’s a sleek car parked outside, and you frown when Blade opens the driver’s door. 

“I’m going to report you for stalking,” you grit out, pressing your body to the cool glass of the building. “How the fuck did you know where I was?”

“Kafka,” he replies simply, and of course, that crazy woman was the one who viewed your private story and sent it to him. “I’m picking you up.”

“No you’re not.” Seriously, he thinks you’re that easy to convince—

“I’ll shut the fuck up with the drums for these two weeks.” 

It’s almost miraculous how quickly you slide into the passenger seat. 

✧ You’ve never been in such close proximity to him before (if you don’t count that day in the kitchen). At least, voluntarily. When you close your eyes and lean back against the headrest, you can smell the faint, woody scent of his cologne. It’s different from the putrid tide of Axe the average engineering student drowns themself in—rather, it’s got the deep undertone of oud and something sweeter. You don’t expect it; maybe if he smelled like first impressions, he’d stink of blood and a dumpster fire.  ✧ Don’t fall asleep—he remarks, and you can feel his eyes on you briefly. Eyes on the road, prick—you retort, but your own lids are still tightly shut. Therefore, you don’t see how his gaze traces the remaining water droplets from your shower: how his hands linger on his gear stick so he can feel the emanating warmth from your damp thigh.  ✧ He freezes. Gross. He doesn’t like anyone, and only tolerates the rest of the Stellaron Hunters since they’ve seen him at his lowest and yet still find ways to bug him. And you. He wasn’t expecting you to last as long as you have. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to irritate him in your own way, and actually manage to aggravate him enough to force him into soundproofing his room. Actually, he still doesn’t know why you did that. He doesn’t know why his heart picked up slightly at the sight of you in that soaked shirt. And in the end, he still doesn’t entirely know why he chose to sit next to you for that lecture instead. It’s to annoy you, he decides. No point in deliberating too much about it.  ✧ It’s surprising that the two of you don’t immediately argue over the project; some eco-facility for sports that surprisingly was chosen unanimously by the pair of you. Eyes flitting to each other and back, it was a miracle you both had the same idea somehow. And it’s surprising when despite your lack of experience in civil engineering like this (you usually opt for mechanical on projects like these), you carefully consider the missing parts in his outlines—security cameras, sound systems, and tiny edits to the structure to really amplify the architecture.  ✧ He doesn’t mind your presence. That’s what shocks him. As you doze off with your head pressed into the crooks of your elbows, he doesn’t reprimand you like he would with anyone else. Instead, he places the material reference guide down and stops considering cement foundations. Before he gets the chance to poke your forehead, your phone buzzes against the table—lighting up with a name he didn’t think he’d see.  ✧ Dan Heng. He knows you’re friends with the guy, but there’s a burning sensation as his eyes watch the pop-up turn into another message, then another. What does he want? In real time, there’s a particular irritation that blossoms with each new notification. 

<Dan Heng> 20:19 > Are you still up? 20:19 > My roommate’s going to move in with his girlfriend, so you’ll be able to…

The message is cut off, but Blade isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what the implication suggests, and there’s a certain coolness in his eyes as he stares the message down. Isn’t this what he wanted? Yes, this is precisely the ending he hoped for: you moving out and him getting his space back to himself. 

But the issue stems from Dan Heng. He can’t have that. He can’t have you moving in with that man of all people. Anyone else would be fine, he insists to himself. 

Dan Heng. Dan Heng. Dan Heng. 

There’s a certain hypothesis he’d like to test. With your guard down like this, he snaps a photo of you with the drool leaking onto your sleeve—sending it directly to you. Just like clockwork, your phone lights up once more with a message. It’s not ‘Blade’ that’s texting you. 

<Dickhead> 20:20 > [photo.jpeg attached]

He grits his teeth, clutching his textbook until his fingers ache from the strain. No, he won’t give that bastard the satisfaction of taking his roommate like this. 

He’ll play nice. When you find someone who works this efficiently with you, while managing to hold their ground under his intimidating gaze, it’s hard not to want them to not scurry away. 

Eat shit, Dan Heng.

✧ Somehow, mercifully, you manage to complete the project with that weirdo. It’s strange—he’s surprisingly more cordial than ever. And with his inky hair pulled into a loose bun, glasses perched on his straight nose—it’s hard to imagine he’d ever made that poor girl cry in front of everyone like that, but you’d witnessed it yourself. So with a sigh, you remind yourself that he’s just as much of an asshole as the rumours say. But, staring at him so relaxed like this, these two different Blades are hard to ever merge.

“Something on my face?” He’s still writing with his glasses sliding down his nose. He sounds irritated, as per usual, but the tiny smirk painting his face lets you know that no he’s not irritated, he’s just being an arse just as always. 

“Yeah, pen,” you mutter, looking away as he finally glances up at you. When you glance back at the desk where your laptop precariously shows the still-unfinished presentation slides, he’s gazing up at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. 

It almost puts to rest the image of a dickhead. 

“There’s no pen, though,” he purrs, voice low while he rests the manual back on the table. “I’ve been reading all morning.”

Nevermind—he’s as much of an asshole as he regularly is. 

“Who knows,” you comment offhandedly, slowly sliding a blue biro your way as soon as he looks back down. There—you attempt to inch forward to draw on his face, but he catches your wrist from across the table between you. 

You freeze. Shit, you screwed up. With how relaxed he is, it’s getting easier and easier to forget the rumours of his bruised knuckles that follow him like a shroud. His eyes glance coolly at you, then at the incriminating weapon within your fingers. 

“What are you doing?” Maybe he’s the questions first, beat up later kind. 

“Getting revenge.” Shameless, you think, but definitely not as shameless as getting told to effectively shut up with the drums yet having the audacity to keep going louder. 

His lips part, and your eyes nearly stray to the pink colour of them. Then, he smiles—something so cynical and disturbing you can’t help but shiver and twist your arm out of his hold, all so you can watch him askance. 

“I can see why people find you scary,” you shudder, tapping your biro on a square notepad. 

“And you don’t?” An innocuous question, but one that almost sounds accusatory. 

“Nah,” you make a disgusted noise, like you’re trying to suppress vomit. “You’re just a prick.”

In the end, that same prick ends up rolling his sleeves upon your request so you can litter blue ink upon his forearms. With how pale he is, it resembles delicate ceramics painted with cerulean landscapes. And while you do include etched illustrations and swirling designs, you make sure to include several phalluses dotted around—just so he lives up to his contact name. 

“Wow,” he remarks sardonically. “Maybe you should quit physics and join the liberal arts programme.”

You ignore him, taking a few shots of your handiwork and sending them to Kafka, captioned I feel like this truly reflects his personality and making sure all the tiny dicks are in full focus. 

“Maybe I should,” you shrug. “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with you, at least.”

“Likewise,” he responds, but it’s not as satisfying to think about you quitting as he thought it would be. 

It’s stupid. He finds that he doesn’t want the ink to wash from his arms, not so soon. 

When you log into your account to touch-up the presentation, you spot the comment he left back in the library on the presentation slides—timestamped to the exact twenty past five. 

17:20 > Maybe if you stopped staring at me, we’d be done sooner. 

It’s the longest sentence he’s ever typed out to you—but that’s exactly what makes it so galling. 

go fuck yourself < 22:31

22:31 > ooh you want me so bad aha

You pause, staring incredulously at the text, then to where the bathroom’s situated. The water’s definitely running.

… < 22:32 damn this idiot’s really getting scammed and hacked < 22:33 crazy < 22:33 [feynman’s twin] sent laughing emoji < 22:33

22:33 > on the daily lmao 22:34 > same two old man passwords for everything

Types like one too < 22:34

22:35 > right?? 22:36 > we should be friends btw 22:36 > [Blade.] sent contact silver-W

Dang he really put a period after than name too < 22:37

22:37 > top ten edgelords 22:37 > [Blade.] sent laughing emoji

[feynman’s twin] sent laughing emoji < 22:37

It’s not until the morning when he’s looking over the (surprisingly well-done) slides that he finally notices the string of (highly unprofessional) messages that he definitely did not write. 

His head throbs and his eye twitches as he reads through them—burning holes through the wall separating him and you. He hopes you receive the subliminal nightmares he’s so graciously sending you. 

It’s a fiercely deliberated decision. With a heavy heart, he finally presses [backspace] on the typo next to his nickname. 

He only hopes you won’t notice. 

(Silver Wolf notices—immediately screenshotting the new handle [Blade] and sending it to you.)

✧ Good things come in threes. Getting through this project, not getting beat up by that nerd, and getting through the presentation smoothly. By that, you mean you do most of the speaking while Blade clicks through the slides. However, contrary to all expectations, his voice comes low and rich—neither stumbling through the knowledge nor forgetting the important parts. It’s so shocking you can’t help but stare at him; something he definitely notices, judging by the self-important smirk he sends you.  ✧ Perhaps a little too good. The pair of you leave the lecture hall separately—after all, it’s not like you want to be in his presence any longer, and he doesn’t particularly want to be in yours either. But you do want the sweet energy drink that’s been chilling in the shared fridge for the past few days: as tantalising as the very nectar of the gods.  ✧ It’s when you enter an alleyway shortcut that you witness her—your old roommate. Vaguely, you recall she used to have a crush on Blade (a match made in heaven if there ever was one); perhaps that’s why she’s inching towards you with a pipe that is tetanus’ wet dream—so grimy you think you’ll immediately die if you’re struck by it.  ✧ All this over him?—you think with disgust as you try back out of the alleyway, only to collide with the towering body of her boyfriend: some guy unfortunate enough to be entrapped by her pretty face and definitely not her personality. She doesn’t want you, and he (aforementioned: Blade) doesn’t want her either. It’s rather tragic, but woefully you can’t spare any pity for them: not when you’re about to get beat and for what? A successful presentation with Blade?  ✧ They’re amateurish enough that you manage to evade them for a minute, but the alleyway’s too narrow to slip past them, and you’ve never been in a fight like this.  ✧ You’re cornered when he appears: some twisted knight he is.

“You’re late,” you heave, bruises on your knuckles and that man’s face. 

“You…” Blade trails off as he sees the blood spatters on your clothes, and his expression twists into one he’s glad you can’t see—not when his broad shoulders face you in an impenetrable wall. The two idiots—Tweedledee and Tweedledum, judging by how disturbingly gullible they are—stiffen immediately upon his timely arrival. 

He’ll handle it like he always does. 

But it’s certainly strange. Why does he feel so much angrier than he does normally?

✧ It’s late afternoon: dusk barely kissing the rooftops of the city, stars just about peeking from the violet firmament. You didn’t ask questions when he made enough space for you to slip out the alleyway: heart lodged in your throat as you quietly sat down at the local café with blossoming pain in your ribs and fists. Stupid, you were stupid to think that crazed girl would ever leave you alone.  ✧ Maybe it’s counterintuitive to feel safe when he steps into the small building. He smells faintly of blood: a terrible, metallic odour spilling onto his clothes and flesh. But beneath that, there’s a lingering scent of that woody oud—you can’t help but sink into it.  ✧ They won’t bother you ever again—he murmurs as the door jingles behind both of you. You didn’t kill them, did you?—you mutter back, half-sarcastically. No, but it probably hurt quite a bit for them—he shrugs. “Let’s go home.” ✧ Home. He says that, but there’s still that offer from Dan Heng to move in with him—one you’ll probably accept. Blade may have saved you, but he’s still a dickhead who has made numerous attempts to kick you out. 

“Ow, fuck,” you hiss as he dabs antiseptic on the various cuts on your hand. It’s well into the evening now, and you’re currently sitting on the bathroom counter with your injuries on full display. 

So infuriating. You glare at the man standing in between your legs—unscathed completely. Worst of all, there’s a smug smile on his lips; whatever worry he might have had over you has completely dissipated. 

“You couldn’t let them hit you once?”

“Bitter much?” he returns easily, swabbing another cotton ball with alcohol and pressing it against the large cut on the side of your forearm. It stings, but you grit your teeth and bear it—much too annoyed with him to show any more pain. 

In this position, the resentment you feel towards him turns faint; a veil seems to obscure the burning sensation. 

“You talk too much,” you seethe. “What happened to the prick who kept his mouth shut and ignored me?”

Tendrils of his jet-hued hair brush your cheek as he inches forward. “If you like, we can go right back to that—playing at my whim included.”

He hasn’t felt like this in years—back when he was still a boy named Yingxing and unmarred by the burdens life would eventually place on his shoulders. 

“Let me do it myself,” you argue back. 

“Nah.” Silver Wolf will pay for calling him an old man. “You won’t do it properly.” 

Another brief kiss from the alcohol against your bloody knuckles, and this time you can’t hide the slight wince on your face. It takes quite a lot of self-restraint to not dent the tweezers—he should’ve done so much worse to the two who tried this, besides beating the shit out of them and getting Kafka to land them behind bars. 

“That rod probably had tetanus on it,” he shrugs, rummaging around in his disused first-aid kit for plasters and bandages.

“Yeah, I thought that too,” you shudder. It's this moment of casual, same line thinking that strikes you as being far too strange. He's so close you can feel each puff of air when he exhales: practically scalding the bare skin stretched over collarbones. Too close—and if he keeps talking like this, as if he’s no longer disgusted by your presence, you won’t be able to deal with it. 

“What’d you do to her?” he questions, but it’s not the ‘no wonder she attacked you’ tone—rather than that, it’s like he’s trying to prompt you into distraction. 

“This is actually your fault,” you scowl, irritably casting your mind back to when she used to talk your ear off about the man standing here. 

“How so?” Nonplussed, he starts rolling the bandage across your arm—evidently, he’s experienced with this sort of thing. 

Stalker roommate. Stalker roommate has crush on engineering maniac. Stalker roommate sees that your new roommate and engineering maniac are one and the same—you summarise, too tired to give the specifics. He sees the way your lids flutter closed from exhaustion; for once, he’ll use Kafka to get more of the information you omitted. 

“Honestly, you two freaks would be perfect for each other,” you murmur absentmindedly. At that, he pulls the bandage tighter against your skin and you draw in a pained inhale. 

“You should try stand-up.” His voice is thick with revulsion, and it’s quiet for a few brief moments as he gets started on patching up the scrapes left on your back. You’re sitting on a stool now: unable to see his face but awfully mindful of how his hands brush over the skin layered over your scapula. 

“You still haven’t thanked me.”

“Thank you, my aggravating saviour,” you say, much too insincerely. “But that reminds me that I’ve got good news for you. That should suffice as a symbol of my gratitude.”

What is it?

“One of my friends has a room free, so I’ll probably be able to move out soon.”

The worst part is, he knows exactly who this friend is. His hands freeze on the band-aid he’s smoothing on your skin; too absorbed in his murderous thoughts to notice how you stiffen at the prolonged gesture. He’s not jealous; these are merely stirrings of friendship—this ugly, amorphous thing writhing in his gut and condemning him to senseless anger. 

“That’s not good news,” he breathes, and it’s a little too quiet as he finishes wrapping the final bandage around your bruised ribs. 

For the first time ever, Kafka receives a text from Blade that doesn’t consist of just one word. 

<Bladie> 20:33 > I need advice. 

Oh, this is interesting. 

What are friends for?—she coos, making sure to show Silver Wolf the glaring achievement in Blade’s range of text vocabulary. 

He’s clearly been on the rear end of bad news; while for her, on the contrary, this just means her scheme is moving along very nicely.  

[newobsessionweekly]

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Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!firefighter!reader

Fandom: 911

Fluff, smut

Summary: They have to shower after each of their firefighting operations and Y/n keeps catching Buck half-naked so often, that she asks herself if Buck specifically want Y/n to see him. And things heat up after a call.

Warnings: Probably poor quality smut, descriptive sex, mentions of blood, injuries.

Requested: No

Words: 1.8k

Requests are open for Buck / Eddie !

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

“Ok, but there’s two of us now, how come we have to share the same changing room with you guys ?” Y/n stops Eddie from babbling, tired of being afraid someone would peek at her naked body once she’d go out of the shower. Speaking of, just for the record, the shower is shared too.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. Hen’s been sharing changing room with guys for ages! And not only with us, dealt with worse!” Buck turns his head to stare at you out of those washed-out blue eyes while still chewing on his food.

You can’t lie, it didn’t bother you that much to share the locker room with the sexiest firefighters of LA, what really bothers you are the sneaky peak you and Buck been sharing.

Buck was some of the most wished-for firefighters in town and you can’t blame all the girls that are throwing at his feet. With those ocean blue eyes, one painted with that mysterious scar making girls wonder what’s the story behind that bravery and only after they go through his bed are served with the truth; it’s just a birthmark. His muscles are showing up in that uniform, popping out and taking any breath away in a shirt. And not to talk about the uniform. Anyone looks sexy in a uniform.

Leaving behind the looks, Buck is the most selfless person you’ve ever met in your life. He’d do anything to save every single one in a case, no matter is he’s crashed by a car, train, building or any other hard thing that could end his life on spot. He’s always ready to take that risk. You, on the other hand, are ready to follow the instructions.

He’s the most reckless person, but his heart’s so big it wouldn’t stop beating soon. And he knows that. His heart is not only beating for him, to keep him alive, it’s also beating for all the people out in the world that need help, that need him.

What really bothers you are not the looks he’s giving you with any chance, but the electricity you feel run down your spine every damn time he’s around you or even looking at you. His reputation isn’t a secret and all you wanna do is to avoid getting hurt.

You were zoned out for a while, playing with the food and ignoring all the voices around you. Only one stood up in the crowd and you’d recognise even in your sleep.

As alarm echoed through the station announcing a car crash with possible multiple injured, you sipped out of your coffee cup and jump into the paramedic ambulance.

As you walk back into the station, covered in blood, you let the boys to take a shower first. You approach Buck, holding him back for an inspection.

“Could you be more reckless?” you hiss at him, looking down at his bruises and opened cut on his arm.

“I’m fine, Y/n. I just got the usual bruises.” you press a cold compress on his head before cleaning the cuts.

“And a concussion.” you rolled your eyes.

As he stood there, patiently waiting for you to get your job done, his blue eyes searched for your body. From head to toe, you are the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Smart too, very brave and bossy. Shame you didn’t want to stand up and ignore Bobby’s orders. You’d make a great team.

“You know I can take care of myself?” you did know that, what you didn’t know was why all of the sudden you decided to play the doctor on him.

You were scared when he jumped right in the middle of the flames to save a dog trapped inside a burning car. Your heart was racing like it would pop out of your chest any minute and your eyes filled with small tears. Just the smoke, you’d tell everyone.

When he returned safely with the small dog in his arms you could finally breathe out. All you wanted to do in that moment was to hug him and yell a little.

And yet, you didn’t know why your body would react that way.

“You’re all done right now. You should take a shower, you’re smelly.” he nodded.

“Thank you, doc!” he smiled.

You can’t help a smile, cheeks burning red. You liked that, all the funny names he called you all the time.

You made your way to the locker room, keeping your distance. Everyone was back in the kitchen upstairs, Eddie watching your moves. He could tell something’s going on between you two, all the looks, the way you’re inspecting Buck’s shirtless body, like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

You remained in your underwear before heading to the showers. You really need to take off the blood. Hearing the water running down, violently hitting the floor, you soon realise it was coming from your usual shower spot, seeing Buck’s shape beautifully contouring on the curtain’s surface.

“You took my shower!” you screamed at him.

“Sorry, doc! Problems with the other ones. They’re out of service.” Buck pokes his wet haired head out. “But you’ll free to join me, if you can’t wait!” he winks.

You can’t wait, the cold air embraces your naked skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Move!” you demand, joining Buck.

You were full grownups after all, a shower isn’t that big of a deal. You’ve seen him half-naked countless of times before and you suspect he’d seen you as well.

Hot water pouring down your body felt like heaven. Warmth hugging you as perfect as this moment was, not minding Buck’s glancing down at your side.

You peak at him, causing your body to burn up in excitement. Every inch of you desired to be touched and you finger tips aches to trace the shape of him. To help him get rid of the dirt, of course.

His hand touches your arm, cleaning the wound you’ve won yourself today.

“You’re injured.” Buck whispered, so close to you now, can feel the warmth of his freshly minted breath.

“Just a cut, I’ll live.” you joke. Looking up at him, water was framing his face so sinfully. You watched a small thread of water paint his nose, those red juicy lips, then going down his chest, stopping at the lower part of his abdomen. Your eyes locked on his erection, and your hands caressing up and down his worked arms.

Buck cupped your cheeks, locking his gaze in yours. Forehead touching, he searched for your permission before hungrily brushing your lips together.

You splay your hands across Buck’s chest as he swirls his tongue around yours. He got you already high over his touch, but the kissing in out of this world.

He press you gently on the cold wall, water still flowing down over both of you, sneaking under your touch. Your body trembles as his hands wanders up and down, memorising your curves. He stops for a moment over your breasts, caressing one by one very carefully, like he would want to remember their shape. You racked your nails through his messy wet hair and down across his back, his lips escaping a little needy moan.

Buck pauses, lips barely touching, taking his time to look in your eyes as his hand went down. “You’re so beautiful!” You breathe the same air, you share the same desire. He admires your intoxicating beauty while shoving his hand between your legs, making you break eye contact and throw your head in pleasure back into the wall.

His lips ghosts over your neck and your fingers lightly run over his abs and down to his erection. Buck kisses you hard, like his life depends on it, like he’s addicted to your touch and wants to feel your name on his skin a whole lifetime from now on.

Moans and desire flying in the air, Buck plays with your wetness before he impatiently lifts your hips up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist. You hold on into his shoulders, closing the distance between you, he pulled your hips up and down, setting a peace as he buried inside you.

Sinking into him, digging your fingers into Buck’s shoulder, the rhythm became incoherent as both of your bodies burned in indescribably pleasure. You want him as much as he wants you.

The Earth stops spinning and the whole world evolves around you two. That moment is about you and Buck, covered in exultation and savoury. You feel his pulse inside, fire pooling low in your abdomen, waiting for Buck to put it out for you.

He run his tongue over where your lips meet, your eyes running back in delight as your moans melts together under your kiss. A spring coiling tightly and then being release, both of you dissolving into pleasure under the hot warm water spreading your love into the air.

You stayed there, in that sweet embrace minutes before one of you could do something. You enjoyed the moment and rested on Buck’s arms, tears of joy welting with the water caressing your bodies. Buck didn’t want to let you go, afraid you’d disappear as soon as his eyes would open. Instead, he inhales your smell, so unforgettable. He’s convinced it’ll haunt his mind, his dreams, countless days from now on and he’s sure as hell he doesn’t want to forget any second you spent in that shower.

“I’m glad you came back safely today.” you murmured into the base of his neck, your fingers still lightly tracing his shape.

“Will always come back in one piece to you.” he answers, placing a soft kiss on your wet hair.

You raise your head, searching his beautiful eyes. Buck can’t help a smile, seeing you so vulnerable before him, still trusting him enough to let him admire you like that. He locked you lips again, this time so soft, afraid he’ll hurt you with just a touch. You melt on him with every touch.

“We should go back.” you broke the silence.

“Yeah, we should.” he agrees. “I’ll go first, take your time.” he kissed your cheek and disappeared behind the curtain.

When you returned to the kitchen, everyone was eating one of Bobby’s delicious meals. You grab yourself a plate and sat across Buck, avoiding his sight, afraid you’ll lose your sanity. You’re smelling like Buck and sex combined, the best combination you’ve ever smelled.

He locked your eyes and you both smiled like idiots, still drunk over the moment happened in shower, just minutes before, a few feet away from everyone else. But you don’t care, it was your moment.

“Don’t really wanna know what happened back there, you idiots! Stop devouring each other at table!” Chim jokes as your cheeks burn red again.

[rogueddie]

Mutual Mixtapes T | 544 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is letting him pick the music

Steve hates metal music. He hates how loud it is, how the higher notes on an electric guitar grate on his brain. He hates how it always triggers a migraine when it's played too long, how it makes them almost blindingly painful when it's played too loud.

But Eddie loves Metal. It always makes him visibly happier, excited, energetic.

As long as he pays close attention to himself, Steve can get through Eddies metal music. He knows that Eddie will turn it off, or turn it down, the second he asks.

It's worth suffering a few mild headaches to see Eddie so joyful.

"Which ones do you like?" Eddie asks him one day, out of the blue.

"I don't know, they're all great," Steve lies.

But Eddie rolls his eyes, tutting. "You hate most of them, it's fine, I know. Are there any that you do like?"

"Uh... that master puppet one that has that line that goes, uh... 'sleep my friend and you will see, the dream is my reality'. That's kinda good. But, uh, I don't like the heavy guitars it gets into."

"So you like the first three minutes, got it. That ones not too heavy for you?"

"It's a little heavy, and that start bit with the high guitar is, like, bad, but it's pretty alright. I like the words."

Steve forgets about the conversation as soon as he gets to work, distracted by Robins rambling and their work.

It doesn't come up again for a few days too, so when Eddie is holding a mixtape and grinning at him, excited, he's confused.

"I made you a mixtape! Well, technically us."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I think you might like it. If you don't, it's ok."

He puts the tape in and, when it starts to play, Steve is surprised. The first song that plays is... nice. It's nothing like the music he's grown used to Eddie playing.

"What is this?"

"It's Black Sabbath."

"This is Black Sabbath? Are you sure?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. It's a short one. Orchid. Thought it'd be the type of song you'd like."

"It is. Yeah, this... it's lovely."

Some of the other songs are edging a little too close to 'too much', but most of them are alright.

When Welcome Home (Sanitarium) plays, Eddie tells him the name and explains how he cut it up so the parts that Steve mentioned not enjoying aren't in it. It ends up sounding a little choppy, but Eddie is proud.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks, pausing the tape when he pulls up outside the new place Steve and Robin are working at.

"So far? Great. Some, um... they'd be better played a little quiet, but I like them. Thank you, for doing this."

"Don't worry. I want you to enjoy music with me, not suffer through it for me."

"Well, I loved that first one."

"Good. I'll try and find more like it."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to."

"Alright," Steve huffs, ducking his head. "Thank you."

Eddie shifts, turning so he can look around them, before quickly leaning over to kiss Steves cheek. "Stop thanking me. Just be honest when you're miserable, ok?"

"Alright."

"Go on then, out, I have another mixtape to work on."

[chelseeebe]

promise.

eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?

a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending

title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two

read part two here.

18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

eddie is positively wrecked.

who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?

graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.

he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.

on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.

‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.

‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.

‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.

truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.

‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.

eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.

you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’

it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.

he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.

‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.

he really needs to get a grip.

‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.

‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.

‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.

‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.

‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’

eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.

‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.

‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.

the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.

‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.

‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.

the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.

‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.

‘what?’

‘i hate this song.’

your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.

his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.

-

‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.

your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.

but he knows.

there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.

he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.

ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.

only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.

he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.

‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.

you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.

you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.

‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.

you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’

‘clumsy?’

you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.

you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.

‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.

you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.

even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.

‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.

‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.

he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.

there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.

‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.

‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.

‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.

you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.

it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.

-

perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.

understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.

so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.

he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.

‘what the hell happened?’

you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.

he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.

it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.

‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.

your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.

‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.

so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.

it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.

‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.

you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

‘you want a drink? beer?’

your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.

he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.

that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.

-

at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.

everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.

it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.

‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.

‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.

‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.

‘just thinking.’

‘about?’

you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.

‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.

‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.

‘mhm.’

‘what about me?’

you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.

‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.

‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.

you nod, ‘can i?’

there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.

‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.

your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.

this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.

it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.

the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.

‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.

eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.

but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.

‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.

‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.

the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.

it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.

bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.

‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.

he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.

he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.

he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.

‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.

it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.

a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.

he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.

‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.

‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.

‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.

the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.

sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.

hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.

his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.

‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.

your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.

your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.

you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.

he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.

every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.

‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.

images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.

he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.

‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.

eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.

he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.

it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.

before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.

in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.

‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.

if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.

‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.

you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.

-

eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.

you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.

at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.

maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.

the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.

he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.

eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.

judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.

‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.

eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.

you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.

he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.

his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.

a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’

eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.

because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.

[dearlyjun]

— CRY FOR ME ☆ HNK

☆ SUMMARY: another night in your neighbors apartment where you were supposed to be having a chill night together, until you end up crying while you ride him. based off of just a neighbor but can be read separately.

☆ PAIRING: HOTNEIGHBOR!KAI X AFAB!READER

☆ GENRE: SMUT! (18+ ONLY)

☆ WORD COUNT: ROUGHLY 1.6K

☆ WARNINGS: gendered terms are kind of (?) used, kai says "my girl" "sweetheart" kind of a lot, kai also says "fuck" a lot, big dick kai agenda again, tank top and grey sweats kai, reader is literally crying, making out kind of, tongue kissing, mostly dom kai because what else would anyone expect from me, unprotected sex, henced multiple orgasms and henced cumshot. think that is all....

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: ok im obsessed with hot sexy dom kai and that neighbor couple I’ve created and yeah this was supposed to be a quick drabble and I kind of cut myself off lollll

☆ QUICK LINKS BELOW!

MASTERLIST! / TAGLIST!

Another night in Kai’s apartment. The both of you in his living room after having shared dinner with some wine.

You came out of his bedroom after changing into your pajamas— a pair of panties and one of Kai’s t shirts that fit you more on the baggier side. You didn’t feel like going back to your apartment to grab clothes to stay the night. You found Kai sitting on the couch in grey sweatpants and a white tank top that showed off his broad and practically chiseled chest.

“Fuck.” You muttered under your breath, unbeknownst to Kai who was looking at what was on tv.

He leaned back on the couch, and sort of parted his thighs. You instantly thought of all those times that he was in that exact same position while you were on the floor in between his thighs; taking his cock down your throat.

Kai looked in your direction when you came closer, smirking when he saw what you were wearing.

“My shirt?” He asked, you as you were now standing in front of him.

You nodded. “Yeah, that’s okay?”

He leaned forwards, running his fingertips along the back of your thighs. Your knees almost buckled at the sudden contact.

“Yeah, I think I like you in my clothes. Come here.”

Kai motioned for you to sit next to him on the couch, and you did.

“Do you like Pinot Grigio?” He asked you, picking up a bottle that was on the coffee table in front of both of you. He poured it in one of the glasses before you could respond.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite.” You responded as he poured you a glass.

“Yeah?” He questioned as he leaned back onto the couch. “As opposed to what?”

You put one of your legs over his thighs, and he placed his hand on top of your bare skin; sending electricity through you.

“Well, you.” You smirked at your corny comment that you knew he’d find funny. “But I think I like you a little bit more.”

“Oh do you now?” Kai took a sip of his wine and set it back down on the table.

It was crazy how you’ve been with him so many times by now, but he never failed to make you nervous. Especially now since his hand crept higher up your thigh.

“Mhm.” You hummed, reaching to play with his small silver chain necklace.

“So what’d you do today?” Kai asked you, his gaze on you as he leaned his head back onto the couch cushion.

“The usual.” You sort of sighed. “You know I can never get any work done when I think of you.”

“Sweetheart, I told you that you can call me.” Kai’s words when right to your core. Sweetheart. Your favorite nickname that he mostly used when he was pummeling you with his cock from behind. You practically let out a whimper at the flashbacks.

You leaned in towards him, giving him a kiss. “I don’t want to distract you. You work so hard.”

He pulled you closer to him, kneading your thigh with his hand. Kai kissed you on the jaw, making you hum. “When my girl needs me, I have to give her what she needs right?”

“Yes.” You answered. “I need you.”

Your voice was quiet. Kai probably didn’t hear you. If he did, he wanted you to repeat it just to hear it again.

“You need what?” His face was so close to yours it made you nervous. “Use your words, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” Kai kissed you softly on the lips before trailing down to your neck.

“You know.” Your voice came out somewhat a whine, and you pulled on the material of his tank top. “I need you. I need you to ruin me.”

Kai smirked, and you could smell the wine on him as he brushed your hair away from your face. “You’re pretty.”

“But….” He pulled away from you, adjusting himself on the couch into a position that had you salivating. Sliding down, and putting his thighs apart. “I think you’d look prettier crying on my cock. Get on my lap.”

You almost too eagerly climbed onto his lap, and immediately felt his cock hardening against your still clothed core. You let out a moan, grinding against him almost out of reflex.

Kai’s hands were gripping onto your thighs, then pulling your shirt up to be able to see the way your hips moved against him.

You were desperate, and your movements became like they would be if you were fucking his cock.

“Fuck.” Kai swore under his breath, watching you desperate for friction against him.

You were positive that you were soaking through your underwear now. You let out a whimper; falling into the crook of his neck.

“Kai, please.” Your voice was muffled, but it was whiny enough that it had Kai’s cock throbbing in his pants. “Fuck me.”

Kai bit down onto his bottom lip, smirking to himself. You couldn’t see him anyways. He loved how he always had you begging for him almost to the point of tears.

“Look at that.” Kai spoke, lifting your shirt to pull it off from your body. “I didn’t even have to ask you to say please. Good girl.”

His praise made a new wave of arousal rush through you. It didn’t help that the hardness of his cock was pressing right up into your clit. You were solely relying on the friction of your underwear right now.

“Sit up for a second, sweetheart.” Kai patted the spot on your hip that was close to your ass.

You did as he said, lifting yourself from his lap for a few moments. You were unsure what he was doing, until he pulled down his sweatpants a bit, along with his underwear.

“Fuck…Kai…” You whimpered. You boosted his ego damn near every time he pulled his pants down; but for good reason.

You reached down, pressing your thumb to the slit that was already leaking precum. Kai sucked in a harsh breath. God he was so hard, and so big. With the way that you were sitting, his tip was almost reaching your belly button.

“Sit on it. Show me how you fuck yourself on my cock.” Kai’s voice was low and raspy as he pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side. The material was most definitely cutting into your skin, but you couldn’t care less.

He leaned forwards slightly to help you align him with your entrance, and you placed your hands on his shoulders for stability.

Kai’s hands moved to your hips, guiding you to sink down.

Kai let out a moan, already feeling lost in the feeling. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck.” Was all that you could muster to say as you were trying to find a rhythm.

“You look so nice like this.” Kai’s voice was breathy as he kissed down your neck and chest, sucking on your skin every so often. “My cock so fucking deep in you.”

He couldn’t help it and was practically slamming you down onto him.

You didn’t even mind. As a matter of fact, you preferred it when Kai took control and moved you how he wanted to.

“My pretty girl.” Kai muttered, bouncing you onto his cock and making your brain go numb. “Wish you could see what I see right now.”

You clutched onto his hands, just for something to grab onto.

Kai suddenly crashed his lips with yours, the movement so abrupt. You moaned against his mouth, giving him the chance to tongue kiss you. It was sloppy, messy, but you pulled him closer for more. It was never enough.

Your arousal was leaking onto his lap, surely making a mess.

“Fuck.” Kai was smirking against your lips, so you knew that he noticed. “You’re leaking all over me, baby. You like when I say those things to you?”

He must have forgotten that he didn’t stop pummeling into you.

“Answer me.” Kai’s voice was suddenly very steady.

“Yes.” Your eyes were watering. He sure was sticking to his words. “I love it.”

“What do you love?” He was looking at you so intently as his thumb now brushed against your clit, making your body shudder.

“Your cock.” Your voice was coming out like a sob, but you couldn’t help it. “And when you tell me I’m your girl. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“There it is.” Kai was pleased, hitting your sweet spot so good you were going to see stars. “My good girl, crying on my cock.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw.

You felt a few hot tears hit your cheeks, and you sniffled.

“Oh my fucking god.” Your orgasm suddenly crashed into you, totally unexpectedly. Your legs shaking and walls clenching Kai so tight you thought that you would hurt him.

You leaned your head back, panting as Kai gently kept going through your orgasm; watching your face for the cue to stop.

“Clenching me so tight.” Kai gave you soft kisses as you rode out your high. “You did so well.”

“More.” You were pulling him closer to you like your bodies weren’t already just about as close as they could get. “Want you to cum. Please.”

Kai was a little taken aback by your words, but he had a smirk on his face. “My girl wants more; I’ll give you more. You don’t even have to ask.”

TAGS: @dearlyjoonie @mhasimp666

COMMENTS/REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED <3 LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

[morganbritton132]

Omg ok so my sisters used to play soccer and one of the moms had a cowbell. This woman would ring the bell every time the team got a goal. And now like 20 years later our mother was talking to someone about how my sisters used to do the local soccer thing and the other person was like “omg do you remember the cowbell lady? That team was so good but dear lord that cowbell was annoying!”……..I can picture Eddie getting a cowbell

Absolutely yes. No notes. Eddie definitely does this.

Steve kinda dooms himself to it because they played a scrimmage against a team that brought their own cheerleaders. Eddie prides himself on a level of dramatism that is not going to let that slide so he asks.

He did ask if he could be Steve’s cheerleader.

Steve, who melts every time Eddie takes an interest in one of his hobbies, does not think of the consequences when he says, “You’re already my cheerleader, but sure.”

If Steve thought about it for a little bit than he would probably think that Eddie was going to show up at the game in an actual cheerleading uniform, but he didn’t think about it. He actually forgot about the entire conversation until the next weekend when Eddie tries to get into the car with an electric guitar.

Steve stops him, “What are you doing?”

“Uh, cheerleading?”

“Where would you even plug that in at?”

“Oh, you’re right,” Eddie considers and then darts back into the house. He returns a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar, but Steve gives him a look that says very clearly ‘absolutely not.’ Eddie strums the guitar anyways and says, “I love you, bitch. I ain’t never gonna stop-“

“Eddie, we’re going to be late!”

So, he didn’t do anything that weekend other than come up with some on-the-fly cheers with another player’s girlfriend and agree to design them shirts. Nancy did say that if he tried to start a wave in the crowd that she would divorce him. From the land of the living.

He thinks she means it too.

Eddie’s already picked out the cowbell by the time next weekend rolls around. They’re playing against a group from the nearby methodist church and the only thing that Steve requests is that Eddie stays off his soapbox about organized religion. He says nothing about cowbells.

Nancy isn’t even aware that he has it until he whips it out after the first goal and starts ringing it. The whole field stops moving and just stares at him for a second, which is great. Eddie loves an audience.

Steve looks fucking delighted, too.

It is rather unfortunate that the team they’re playing against sucks major ass and they score more goals than they have in any other game because that cowbell rings with enthusiasm every single time. Except for the last goal because when Eddie went to reach for the bell, Ozzy put his paw over his hand to tell him to stop.

It doesn’t matter though because Steve runs over to him as soon as the game ends, all smiles and kisses. It’s painfully and sickeningly sweet when he tells him, “Best cheerleader I’ve ever had.”

Steve kisses him again and tells him, “Never do it again though.”

[minisugakoobies]

Yours for the Night - Teaser | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Teaser Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, kissing, what's a little fucking between frenemies? (fic warnings tbd) Teaser Word Count: 637 (fic count tbd) Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me

Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: Hiiiii. Hyunjin has been wrecking the fuck out of me ever since KCON LA last year, so I had to write a fic to get him out of my system. This is just nothing but tension, teasing, and filthy fucking. Hope that's ok. 😁

My goal is to finish this one up and post by month's end. Taglist is open - comment, reblog, or send an ask to be added! 💕

SKZ Masterlist

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” Hyunjin's hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric. 

“Is that what we are? Friends?” 

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?” 

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you. You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. 

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!” 

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.” 

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip. 

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it just puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”  

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs. 

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin. 

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.  

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.” 

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake. 

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my works.

[mischieveousmayhem]

Hiiii I was wondering if I could request a Deku x reader and jealous ochako??

It goes where reader and deku are childhood besties like pinky promised to marry each other when they get older besties but reader had to move away to another country due to being accepted into one of the most prestigious quirk schools in the world (besides UA) and she ends up coming back to Japan during the UA sports festival and her and deku have a sweet reunion but ochako seems to be a bit jealous of reader and tries to make it obvious abt how she feels abt deku but in the end ultimately decides her jealousy isn’t worth losing her friendship over and deku and reader end up together :3

"Until we meet again.."

a/n: ok this took me a minute to figure out what i wanted to do but please enjoy! i did see the other part anon , where you requested what the quirk is, i just spiced it up a little! also please request guys im so uninspired till i see requests.

pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem! Reader , one sided Izuku Midoriya x Ochako

Warnings: Jealousy, Cursing, Making Ochako act slightly fannon and annoying, Reader moves to Getmaly

Genre: Fluff , maybe slightly angsty?

Synopsis: Y/N L/N finally returns to Japan where she can finally see her bestest friend. However, someone (Ochako) has a crush on her best friend, Izuku. When Ochako sees the two super close she tries to steal all of Izuku's attention away from the reader. But is it worth the loss of making her crush, but friend hate her?

Readers Quirk: Energy Absorbtation. User can absorb energy around them (ex. electricity, heat, etc.) and release powerful bolts of pink bolts. User also has laser eyes and can absorb enough energy to fly . (Basically Starfires powers but using energy to create the power). However the user must be super careful! Absorbing too much energy can make them have too much adrenaline and lose control and go manic!

—

"HEY!" A small voice boomed across the playground.

The ash blonde and his friends turned to see to see who was yelling at them. The green haired boy sunk more thinking it was just another person who would treat him the same as the ash blonde, Kastuki Bakugou and his friends were.

"Leave him alone! He didn't do anything to you."

Looking at the figure it was a girl, she had H/C pigtails and beautiful S/C toned skin. This made Bakugou smirk. Really? A girl tryna challenge the great Katsuki.

"Ooohhh I'm so scared , what is a little weak girl gonna do." He sarcastically remarked.

She smiled, "Weak? You call this weak?" There are pink bolts forming around her hand.

"Wowww so your a night light?" One of the ash blondes friends say.

"Hmm, no." She takes the bolts and pulverizes a nearby petite plant. The ash blonde and the rest of the bullies eyes widened, "Could be you next by the way." She said knowing that the plant was only turned to ashes for two reasons, it was a small plant and secondly, she didn't really know how to use her quirk that well so she absorbed a powerful bit.

Bakugou snaps out of it, "Yeah whatever, I'm not scared of you. We're just gonna leave cause we don't hang around useless nerds." Bakugou leaves while his "posse" follows behind him.

The girl walks up to the green-headed boy on the ground and reaches out a hand. He immediately takes it.

"Thanks for that..." He spoke shyly not knowing the girl who was seen as a stranger.

"No problem! Whats your name by the way?" She smiled.

"Izuku Midoriya."

"Cool name! I'm Y/N L/N"

"Nice to meet you L/N"

"Please just call me Y/N!"

From then on the two hung out more and more each day and they grew closer and closer. To the point where one day when they were playing house in Y/N's backyard a conversation came up.

Currently the two had stuffed animals and dolls as kids and Y/N smiled "I can't wait to have a life this growing up! It's so fun being married to you too!"

"Yeah it is fun. I want to have a life like this when I grow up to! Being a hero and having kids that look up to me would be a great life" Izuku smiled at her agreement.

"I have an idea, when we grow up, let's get married!" She exclaimed.

"Okay!" He says giving her a hug.

Once the hug breaks she holds out her pinky.

"Pinky promise?"

Their fingers lock.

"Pinky promise."

The two were super estatic to grow up and marry each other. However they ran into a road bump.

"Izuku..I'm sorry but I have to leave the country. I got an offer to go to a better school than U.A."

Those words rang into Izuku's ears everyday even to the present day. Everyday he missed her , everyday he wanted to see her face to face instead of just texting her or calling her. He missed her dearly. Y/N was like Izuku's oxygen. He felt it hard to breathe without her. However her going away didn't set him back from his journey to becoming number one hero. In fact, it pushed him harder.

This takes us to present day, the day Y/N gets to come home. Although it is not permanent, Izuku is very happy she is coming back home even if it's just for the festival. Sure all his friends were nice at U.A. Especially Ochako. She considered Izuku her best friend, but he didn't consider his. Y/N would always be his best friend no matter what.

They haven't been separated that long either it's been like what? A year? Maybe a little less? Either way he was just happy he was going to her again. And again was today.

Waiting at the bus stop for her to get off, Ochako stood next to him, more like against him, she gave him like zero personal space. They were gonna walk with Y/N to U.A since she must not be familiar with Japan anymore.

"Soo who are we waiting for?" Ochako started conversation.

"My childhood best friend." Izuku says.

Ochako questions, "Oh really? Did they not pass the exam go get into U.A?"

"Actually that's not it at all. She got an offer to take an exam at a much more prestigious school and she passed. She is one of the top students in her class." Izuku explains.

She? His best friend was a she? This made Ochakos stomach turn into knots. She has had a crush on Izuku for a while but he knew his so called childhood best friend longer. What if he liked his childhood best friend instead of Ochako? Is that why he ignores all her small hints? Or maybe the boy is just oblivious as hell.

Snapping her out of her thoughts, the bus pulled up and there came a beautiful S/C toned girl who stepped off smiling as wide as possible.

Izuku didn't even almost notice her! She had changed so much. Her hair had pink highlights, the same shade as her energy bolts along with puberty hitting her like a bus, and not just her body, but her face matured. The only thing that made Izuku sure it was her was that wide smile and her glimmering E/C eyes.

"Izuku!" She jumped and embraced him. Before he could even embrace her back they started flying in the air in circles. After 5 seconds of spinning Y/N made sure both their feet touched the ground.

Ochako just stood there awkwardly watching this entire interaction. However her awkward stance is what was hiding that boiling feeling inside her.

"You can fly now?!" Izuku exclaimed at Y/N.

"Yeah! Training really does help you explore what else you can do with your powers." She smiled. "I can't wait to see your awesome quirk today at the festival."

She knew Izuku got a quirk , however she didn't know the backstory on how or why he got it so late. She didn't even bother to ask because the boy was happy and she wouldn't dare ask unless he offered to tell her.

"I'm gonna try my best to win." He says before turning to the awkward Ochako.

"Oh Uraraka, this is my best friend I was telling you about! This is Y/N and Y/N, this is Uraraka." He introduced the two.

Y/N stuck out her hand in front of Uraraka to shake it, "Nice to meet you, by the way you're like soo pretty."

Ochako shook Y/N's hand, "Nice to meet you too, and thanks." She said, but you could hear the slight bitterness in Ochako's voice.

The three walked to U.A together, mainly Izuku and Y/N talking and laughing while Ochako trailed behind them, like a third wheel. This wasn't fair. When Y/N wasn't here Izuku would be talking and laughing with her not Y/N. She would just have to get Izuku's attention some way.

—

Before the festival started Izuku and Y/N shared on more conversation.

"Woww , it must be fun to be able to compete! In Germany we can't compete in festivals till we're second years." Y/N explained.

"I wish so too, I would love to try to compete against you so I can show you how I can beat you with my quirk." He said pumping a fist up.

"And may she might, young students!" All Might appeared out of no where behind the two. The voice startled Y/N but when she turned around she saw All Might.

"Oh my stars! It's All Might!! Wait what do you mean?" She titled her head.

"I have heard about you , L/N. You and your fellow students were in a magazine a while ago." He explained, while Y/N's eyes lit up. "I can speak and have it arranged for you to join us in our festival. I want to see you at work."

"Oh my stars! Really?! Like really , really?!" Y/N was so happy right now she looked like she was gonna pee herself.

"I can try. Now wait for me outside in the hall while I speak to this young student." All Might says as Y/N obeys and closes the door on the way out.

All Might shrinks back down to regular old Toshi. He coughs before speaking.

"Does she know?"

"No, I didn't tell her."

"Good , I was afraid you would tell her especially since she doesn't go here." Toshi says, weakness in his voice. "I'm going to go take her to talk to the other pros in charge to see if we can get her to join the festival. I know you will do good Midoriya." He places a hand on Izuku's shoulder before going back to being All Might.

Before leaving he turns around and says, "Good luck."

—

Y/N hummed as she changed in the locker room. Ochako so happened to be there getting prepared. When Ochako spots her she immediately tries to avoid Y/N however Y/N's attention was somewhere else. She was just too excited for this opportunity.

When Ochako realized Y/N wasn't paying attention she stared at Y/N. Damn, she wouldn't blame Izuku if he did like Y/N. Y/N was beautiful and she looked so much better in the gym uniform then Ochako.

Y/N wore a sports bra only under the uniform because she wasn't prepared for this. Ochako saw this and thought she should do the same so Ochako took off her tank top and left her sports bra on with just the gym uniform on top.

Y/N turns, "Oh Uraraka! Guess what they're letting me compete in the festival." She smiled.

"Oh. I am happy for you. I hope you do well."

"You too! May the best one win." Y/N smiles friendly before leaving.

"Yeah may the best one win.." Ochako mutters knowing that she didn't want to just win the festival she also wanted to win Izuku's love and attention.

—

The festival contained of many challenges.

The first one was the obstacle course. Y/N ended up passing at number 15. That was only because she didn't use flight for it. She used her pure skills.

Next was the calvary battle. Y/N ended up being placed on team Todoroki. She was having so much fun she barely noticed it was a challenge.

Finally , it was one on ones. Y/N won her first round against Mina and she was super pleased by it. She didn't think she was that good with her quirk. But she had an advantage against Mina's acid. Acid is a chemical, and chemicals have energy.

It was time for Uraraka and Bakugou to fight and Uraraka was nevous before she went on so she went to Izuku.

But before she did she unzipped her uniform to show off her sports bra and then confronted him unfortunately Y/N was there.

"Oh Midoriya!" She exclaimed interrupting what Y/N and Izuku were talking about. "I have to fight Bakugou and I'm so gonna lose" She said almost in an almost too dramatic way.

"Let me help you come up with a pla–" Izuku tried to speak.

"I don't need your help with winning, I want to do this on my own. I know I can do it." Ochako say, "I'm just so nervous, can I have a hug before I go on?" She asks with pleading eyes.

Izuku and Ochako embrace for a solid 10 seconds before Y/N joins in. Then the unwanted group hug only lasts about 5 seconds.

"You're gonna do great Ochako! Bakugou just has a bigggggggg ego since forever. You're gonna win." Y/N smiled.

"Yeah, you are Ochako!" Izuku agrees.

"Thanks guys..." The "guy" thats came out her mouth was super bitter and she stared daggers at Y/N while she said it. However Y/N thought it was on accident so she smiled.

That almost frustrated Ochako past her limits. But made her think why is Y/N being so nice? Why can't Y/N back off OCHAKOS Izuku? Whatever it didn't matter.

Ochako hugged Izuku one more time before going to her battle. As she walked off she thought that if she did well it would impress Izuku and he will fall in love. Maybe she's being delusional but she won't give up on him.

Y/N and Izuku watched the painful battle of Ochako vs Bakugou. They were both putting on a strong fight but Bakugou was obviously winning.

"She needs to forfeit or she's gonna get seriously injured, Izuku."

"She's gonn—" He's cut off when Ochako hits the ground.

Y/N gasps and Izuku's eyes widen.

Midnight declares Ochako is unconscious, however leading Y/N and Izuku rushing down to recovery girl.

A few moments later Ochako's eyes fluttered open. She saw Y/N and Izuku next to her.

"Shes awake!" Y/N exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

Ochako stared blankly. Why was Y/N here? But she knew Izuku was here so she put on a little act, "Oh my..I'm in so much pain right now." She wasn't seriously lying, Recovery Girl can't fully help Ochako recover.

"You put on a good fight Uraraka! It's nice to see you awake however, I have to prepare to fight Todoroki in a little. I'll catch you guys later!" Izuku hugged Ochako and she became slightly flustered before he left the room.

Sitting down in a chair next to Uraraka, Y/N speaks, "That fight was so impressive! I could see your strategy. I wish you won it would have been so badass for you to beat Bakugou."

While Y/N kept complimenting Ochako and talking about the fight. Ochako realized something. Ever since Y/N came back she's just been jealous of her. When in reality she shouldn't have. Y/N has no bad intentions towards her, she just wants to be her friend. Imagine if Izuku knew what she thought of Y/N? He would hate her guts.

Realization.

"And the way you used your jacket for a—" Y/N was cut off by Ochako,

"Do you like Midoriya?" Ochako asks.

"Yes, he's my best—"

"I mean do you like him?" She exaggerates the like this time.

Y/N stops and thinks before answering.

"... It doesn't matter, I don't think he feels the same." The answer came out her mouth almost too quietly, but Ochako heard it.

"L/N," Ochako sat up, wincing from the little pain she had left and grabbing Y/N's hand. "The way he looks at you, the way he interacts with you, every time he interacts with you it's different from others. He doesn't just like you, I'm sure he loves you. You're the love of his life, you should tell him."

Y/N is speechless, "But don't you like him?"

"How'd you know?!?" Ochako becomes flustered.

"It's obvious."

"Then it's also obvious he doesn't like me back."

Y/N got up and helped Ochako get up. "I know you like him, but I don't want to get with him if you lik—"

"Please, who cares if I like him, I want him to be happy and he's obviously happy with you. So let's go watch him kick ass." Ochako smiled hooking her arms with Y/N's as they went to go watch Midoriya vs Todoroki.

—

"Aww you did so well , though." Ochako spoke, where Ochako, Y/N, and Izuku were all back with Recovery Girl.

"I agree." Y/N smiled.

"Thanks guys, I'm disappointed though."

"Next year, you're going to beat him for sure." Ochako says.

"Same goes for you beating Bakugou."

"Speaking of Bakugou," Y/N chimes in, "I'll avenge you right now. Cause guess who has to fight him."

The two stared at Y/N.

"He's super strong though." Midoriya spoke up.

"He may be strong but I'm sure I'm stronger." Y/N smiled.

"You got this girlie! If anyone can beat him it's you." Ochako smiled optimistically, and this time there was no bitterness.

—

Y/N stood in the ring across from Bakugou.

"We meet again Katsuki." Y/N smiles.

"Don't call me that."

"Hmm, I'll call you whatever I want after I beat you." Y/N smiles.

"The hell? You'll never beat me."

"Wanna bet?"

"Damn right, I do."

Y/N giggles, "I'll go easyy.."

Bakugou had enough of the talk he sent the first explosion towards her. Using acrobatic skills, she flipped out the way dodging the attack.

"Damn, thats all you got?"

"Fuck no."

Y/N flew up throwing bolts at Bakugou.

The two were fighting for a good 15 minutes. The area was smoky from not only Bakugou's explosions but Y/N's bolts and laser eyes.

Unfortunately, Y/N was beat by Katsuki by default because she absorbed too much energy and went manic.

—

When everyone recovered and everyone recovered it was time for Y/N to go home. Izuku was sad and so was Y/N. They didn't know the next time they would see each other and this made them both upset.

It was rainy, and they both stood under an umbrella waiting for the bus to take Y/N to the airport.

"You did awesome at the festival." She broke the silence.

"So did you." He spoke , but there was sadness in his voice.

"You know, I'm really proud of you and your quirk is amazing. I can't wait to see how hard you train and how good you are next time I see you." She smiled almost sadly, "And then I'll fight your that time."

He chuckles, "I hope you don't think you're gonna win."

"Trust me, I will."

The bus pulled up and the two looked even more sad.

"I guess this is it for who knows how long." Izuku turns and faces her.

"Don't be sad, Izuku. Our separation is only temporary. Remember, I'll come back and we will get married?" She cuffs his cheek.

He lit up a little, not thinking she remembered the promise. He melted into the touch of her hand while nodding.

They shared one last embrace,

"Goodbye, Y/N."

"Until we meet again, Izu."

The embrace broke but Y/N didn't walk off yet. What did was totally unexpected. She pecked his lips and ran on to the bus, "Call me later!"

Those were the last words he heard her say before he stood there flustered.

They wouldn't just marry each other in the future because they were best friends.

Izuku Midoriya found his true love, his soulmate, and he can't wait to see her again.

[traffic-was-a-b1tch]

anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: bitchy jake (iykyk), slight arguing, let me know if I missed any.

author’s note: heyyy guys! this is my first ever series! i’m super excited to write it and I think its gonna be a fun one lolz. please feel free to give me feedback, requests, comments, etc. enjoy!!!!

• • •

Chapter One:

your pulse beat rapidly. you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this.

you put the last of the moving boxes on the couch and looked at kaylee. your smiles radiated as you took in your new place. the two bedroom, one bath apartment stared back at you.

the walls were painfully white and bare, but the dark blue couch added much needed color to the middle of the living room.

“it’s not much to look at right now”, she started, “but I think we can work with it.”

“let’s hope”, you laughed.

of course you both could work with it. y’all could turn a dumpster fire into a trendy café. you distinctly remembered that your dorm was in a similar condition y’all’s freshman year of college. and let’s just say you had to fix a few nail holes and tear off so much wallpaper when y’all moved out.

“I got it!”, kaylee gasped, “dark blue and white chevron!”

“chevron? are we in 2014?”, you gave her a look.

“oh please, you know I know best. here”, she positioned you to where she was standing by your shoulders, “look now.”

after a few head tilts, you hated to admit it but, you were starting to see her vision.

“hmmm ok fine. but the couch would have to go there”, you pointed, “and the lamp there against the wall.”

she gave your shoulders a squeeze and rested her head in the crook of your neck, “awe you finally trust my artistic eye.”

you shrugged her off with a laugh.

“you know things will be better, right? he’s not here to bother you, and you get a nice fresh start.”, she added hesitantly.

right. one of the main reasons you left your home state after college, your ex. you tried to push him out of your mind, nodding at kaylee.

you tried to focus on the room before you. your mind was starting to race with ideas and approaches, and the place was slowly piecing itself together.

the rising excitement was going to keep you up all night.

or so you thought.

you would have a different enemy tonight.

after hours of planning with kaylee, you finally started to get tired. the long hours of the day suddenly hit you and all you could think about was your mattress. it was on the floor as of now, but it never looked more comfortable.

after doing your skincare, getting in pjs, and brushing your teeth and hair, you laid down on the bare mattress. your eyes were slowly drooping as you started to slip into sleep.

just then you were startled awake with the sound of a guitar.

what in the world?

you waited for a second, thinking it was just your mind playing tricks. then, a second strum of an electric guitar echoed through the wall.

it was followed by a riff, cool and sharp, ripping through the quiet night. then came drums, pounding a dull beat that the guitar followed.

the music was good, great even, but it was too late for it.

you sat up, annoyed and tired, and looked over at kaylee, who had woken up from the same sounds.

“ugh. your first roommate duty.”, she grunted, pointing at the wall the music was coming from.

“no way, kaylee. are you kidding?”

she pointed again at the wall, strictly.

you rolled your eyes, standing up to stretch.

“ooohhh mama”, a man’s raspy voice came in with the music.

you cursed as you walked out into the hallway, not wanting the confrontation but needing sleep. the neighbor’s door reverberated with the vibration of music, making it obvious where the musicians were stationed.

you sighed and knocked at the door.

no response. just music.

“la di da di da oooohhh”, the singer’s voice was clear and distinct, mocking the guitar’s strums.

you knocked louder, growing frustrated.

suddenly, a voice interrupted the flowing sound and one by one the instruments stopped. the music ceased, and you could hear footsteps growing closer.

the door opened slightly, giving you a view of half a man’s face. his dark brown eyes sweeped you up and down, and you abruptly became aware that you were at their door in a big t-shirt and sleep shorts. a little embarrassed, you crossed your arms in front of you.

“can I help you?”, he asked, annoyance dripped from his husky voice.

“um- hi. sorry, me and my best friend just moved in next door.”, you pointed to your door.

his neck craned to see, opening the door a little more. you took in his appearance. the brown hair draped over his shoulders, reaching his upper back, was flowy and dark. he had on a black button up only buttoned to the middle of his torso, exposing his tan chest.

damn. he was attractive.

your eyes traveled further down, spotting an electric guitar hanging on him.

so this was the guitarist.

he looked back at you expectingly, waiting for an explanation.

“anyway, we were just going to come ask if y’all could quiet down just a little bit. it late and we have long days tomorrow and we would just really appreciate it.” you smiled sweetly, sort of wishing he found you attractive the way you found him attractive.

he raised his eyebrows, looked you up and down again, and turned to face some other men in the room. you could only see their heads, but you saw three men standing around instruments in the cramped apartment.

“what do ya say, boys? should we keep it down?”, he murmured, his voice mysterious and yet sweet. the other men laughed half-heartedly from inside, causing the man at the door to chuckle.

he looked back at you.

“look, sweetie. we are a professional band and we need our practice. now, we only can get together at night. so, what do you suppose we do, hm? stop our productive, important practice for you and your little friend to get beauty sleep? I don’t think so. we haven’t gotten any complaints yet, so I think that you just need to go back to your apartment and invest in some earplugs if it bothers you that much.”

you were taken aback, mouth slightly open in shock. you’d have never guessed such rude words would fall out of his beautiful mouth. he looked like a dream, but acted like a nightmare.

“well”, you started, unsure of how to respond, “I guess i’ll be the first to complain.” you lifted your chin up defiantly, not letting him see how much he disappointed you by being rude.

his eyebrows dropped, his face forming a deep glare.

“now then, let’s not be rude here.” he was testing you, seeing how confrontational you would get.

“yes”, you smiled sarcastically, “let’s not. so, practice is cancelled tonight?” you looked behind the man and into the room to see three slightly shocked faces.

one of them, with a seafoam green bass in his hand, broke out into a smile, “well i’m free tomorrow at noon.”

“shut up, sam.”, the man at the door barked, looking back at him.

“oh, give it a rest, jake. you know we can postpone and be fine.”, sam added.

oh, jake was the man at the door.

“yes, jake”, you cooed, “let’s postpone, hm?”

his eyes found yours, surprised and slightly impressed at your tone. his hard mouth slowly let up.

he scoffed, “you playing with fire, baby. be careful.”

your eyebrows raised, testing him to try you. you backed away, eyes never leaving his, and walked the four feet to your door.

the last thing you saw was a glimpse of his eyes following you into your apartment.

the intensity of the encounter haunted you, playing back in your head over and over. you leaned your head back onto the door, waiting for the music to resume. waiting to see if he had the gall to keep playing. still after a minute or two, there was nothing but silence. you sighed, sluggishly walking back to your bed.

then you collapsed, sleep slowly enveloping you into its warm arms.

good, that’s the end of that, you thought.

until you woke up at 3 am, to the sound of a guitar riff.

• • •

eeeeeeeekkkk!!! so excited to start a seriessss. (also please excuse my use of y’all. i’m from the south and it just comes naturally lmao). PLEASE let me know what you would like me to write next, give suggestions, feedback, anything!

[thoseboysinblue]

Be Mine

Christian Pulisic x reader

Christian plans a romantic Valentine's date for the two of you.

Wordcount: 3100+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, smut

A/N: This is a follow up to the pairing from Mistletoe Magic. I had intended to post this before Valentine's but the days got away from me. Feedback is always appreciated.

You smile as the Milan players line up before the match. Christian searches for you in the crowd, a brief smile dances across his lips when his eyes meet yours. You can't deny the flutter of butterflies and flicker of heat that makes its way to your core at the sight of him in their new black kit.

Damn he looks good, you think to yourself as you chew on your bottom lip. It's been nearly two months since you first kissed under the mistletoe. During that time, you've both tried your best to see each other as much as possible. You'd already had several trips planned out, which made it more difficult to work your schedule around his, but you had changed some of your plans to bring you back to Milan when you could.

You had been friends for quite some time, so getting to know one another wasn't really an issue, but it had been nice speaking with him nearly daily to fill one another in on your day to day lives.

A few weeks ago, you met up with him and his parents when he had a few days off and chose to spend them exploring some of the areas in northern Italy. During that time, you realized that the feelings you had for him had completely bubbled to the surface.

Even though you have spent several nights together since that first kiss, you haven't taken the leap into anything sexual after deciding that both of you wanted to make sure this is right before completely throwing your friendship aside for something different, something more.

But seeing him in that kit, has you aching for him in a way you haven't quite felt before. You have nearly a full week with him now, planning to spend Valentine's Day together and watch his Europa League match prior to leaving for your next trip.

The stadium is electric for their win over Napoli. After the match, you find your way to the designated area for family and friends to wait for the players. Christian makes his way over to you and pulls you into a warm hug, placing a barely there kiss to your neck that sends a shiver up your spine before he intertwines his fingers with yours.

"You ready?" he grins at you once you've finished chatting with the handful of teammates of his you've met. You nod as he leads you towards the area where the players park.

Once inside his car he leans over the console and runs his hand along your jaw before pulling you towards him and kissing you. His tongue runs across the seam of your lips and he moans softly into your mouth when you allow him to deepen the kiss.

He pulls away from you naturally and whispers "hi" against your lips. You chuckle and whisper, "hey" back to him before pecking him again on the lips.

There is an undeniable tension between you as he drives you back to his house.

"You played well," you smile at him as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it before settling your intertwined fingers over your lap.

"Thank you, I'm glad you were there," he smiles back, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I like the new kit," you hum absentmindedly.

"Yeah?" he chuckles noticing the way you bite your bottom lip when you nod slightly.

You stop and grab some takeout before finishing the drive to his house. Once inside, he stops you at the door and places a kiss to your lips. "Wait here for a couple of minutes," he smiles sheepishly at you before disappearing down the hallway.

He returns a few moments later, "close your eyes" he grins as you do as he asks and he takes your hands and leads you into the kitchen. He settles himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Ok, you can open them," he whispers against your jaw placing a light kiss there.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the display in front of you, a large bouquet of red roses, candles flickering, and fresh Italian deserts.

"I know I'm a little early, but will you be my valentine?" he whispers against the shell of your ear.

You turn to face him and wrap your hands around the back of his neck and whisper "yes, of course," before kissing him slowly as he pulls you closer to him leaving no space between the two of you, a soft groan escaping his lips as his hardened cock presses against you.

Warmth spreads through your chest as you realize he wants you just as much as you want him. You break away from the kiss sharing a brief, shy smile before putting your take away meals on plates.

As you're eating dinner, he explains that he's made reservations at a restaurant in the city for Valentine's dinner and that was his reasoning for asking earlier, telling you that the two of you would need to go shopping for cocktail attire.

"Shopping in Milan sounds terrible," you grin at him.

"I asked Oli for suggestions of nice places to take you, so if it's terrible, blame him," he chuckles.

Your heart flutters at the effort he's gone to in plannng a nice evening for the two of you.

"Something tells me that Oli is probably solid in the romance department," you chuckle reaching over to lay your hand on top of his, "thank you," you whisper.

The tension between the two of you is palpable as you turn on some music and clean up the minimal mess from your meal.

Just as you are finishing cleaning up, "I Wanna be Yours" by the Arctic Monkeys begins to play. A shiver runs up your spine as Christian steps behind you and grips onto your hips. He runs his nose along the column of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent before turning you around and taking your hands and placing them behind his neck.

You dance slowly for a few moments as your heart races. He swallows dryly as he stares into your eyes praying that you are feeling the exact same way he is. You instinctively bite your bottom lip and he brings his thumb up to brush over it, pulling it gently from between your teeth before he kisses you tantalizingly slow until your breathing becomes ragged.

He kisses you like there is nothing else he would rather be doing and like he has all the time in the world. He lifts you up onto the counter and steps between your legs tucking your hair behind your ear before kissing you again.

"Be mine," he whispers against your lips.

Your eyes flutter open to be met with his dark, pleading eyes; two pools of perfectly dark amber that you could lose yourself in.

"I wanted to wait until Valentine's to ask you, but I can't stand it," he smiles softly at you.

You thread your fingers into the back of his hair, leaning in to kiss him again before kissing your way to his jaw and neck. After kissing over the freckle just below his ear and watching as his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, you whisper "I'm yours" into his ear.

A flicker of a smile dresses his lips before he crashes them against yours. He grips your hips and pulls you closer to him as he swallows a soft moan from you.

When you wrap your legs around his waist he lifts you off of the counter and carries you to his room. He settles you onto your feet gently. Nipping at your bottom lip, "we don't have to do anything, y/n" he says quietly as he searches your features, "I was hoping to make this a bit more romantic you know," he chuckles.

"Christian," you sigh, reaching for the hem of his shirt, "romance is nice, but I don't need it, I just need you," you lift his shirt gently until he pulls it over his head.

He watches as your eyes shamelessly rake over his body. Of course you've see him shirtless before, but this is obviously different. "I'm all yours," he whispers as you use your fingertips to trace over the tattoo on his chest. He shivers in response when you kiss delicately over where his heart is hammering away.

He can't deny he's enjoying the way you're looking at him, your eyes filled with need.

"May I?" he questions lowly as he grips onto the bottom of the shirt you're wearing with his fingertips.

You nod and raise your arms over your head to allow him to slip your shirt off of you. "Fuck" he curses quietly as he glances down to the black lace bra you are wearing. You'd put it on hoping for that very reaction from him.

"So pretty," he mumbles as he dips his head to kiss over the tops of your breasts. He takes your bra off of you easing you towards his bed. He loosens his joggers letting them fall to the floor as you shimmy out of the jeans you are wearing leaving you only in your black lace thong.

He takes a moment to take you in, a quiet whimper escaping his lips as he shakes his head.

"You're unreal," he smiles softly at you as you both settle on the bed.

"You're not too bad, yourself" you grin at him as he hovers his body over yours leaning down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he brings one hand up to caress over your breast rubbing his thumb teasingly over your nipple before he drops his head to pull the sensitive flesh into his mouth.

He hums against you when you arch you back forcing more of your nipple into his mouth. He intertwines his fingers with your pressing one of your hands above your had as he switches to flick his tongue over your other nipple until you're panting and moaning his name.

"You sound so pretty moaning my name like that, baby," he says as he kisses a trail down the center of your abdomen until he reaches the top of your underwear.

"Let's see if we can make you moan it some more, huh?" he glances up to you waiting for your consent before you lift your hips so that he can slide your underwear down your legs.

He teasingly kisses from one ankle up to the top of your thigh before repeating the same up the other leg. Your hips buck involuntarily as he inches his way closer to where you desperately need him.

He chuckles against your thigh, "ok, ok, I get it" he grins at you, "I'm gonna take such good care of you, you don't even know."

He hums as he dips his tongue into your entrance and you gasp. "All this for me, baby?" he whispers against you as he teases your folds with his tongue, working in long and languid strokes, before sucking lightly on your clit.

"Fuck, Christian," you breathe out.

He wraps one arm around your thigh as you catch a glimpse of his tattoos before he uses that arm to hold you in place. Your back arches against him, your head rolling to the side on the pillows as you bring one hand to your mouth to try to quieten your moans.

"Don't you dare do that," he mumbles against you, "I want to hear every single one of them." He reaches up and pulls your hand from your face before sliding it down towards your breast.

"Touch yourself, y/n," his voice suddenly taking a commanding tone. You're almost shocked at how quickly you comply by rolling your nipple between your fingers, your other hand coming down to tangle into the short curls at the top of his head.

He slides two fingers into you, pumping them a few times before curling them against your g-spot.

"Chris, fuck, please, I need you," you pant out through your uneven breathing.

"I'm gonna make you cum first," he says quickly before latching back on to your clit.

"No, no, I want you, Christian, please," you groan.

He lifts his head to look into your eyes, "listen, I'm worried I'm not going to last more than a couple of strokes once I get inside of you, so I'm making you cum first," he blushes slightly.

"And they say romance is dead," you giggle.

He chuckles before flicking his tongue over you again, his fingers working in tandem to push you towards the edge. You clench around his fingers, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"I can't wait to feel you squeezing my cock like this," he breathes out as he continues what he's doing. He can tell by the way your fingers are gripping tighter into his hair and how you are thrashing against him that you are close.

"I've got you baby, let go for me," he says before sucking on your clit one more time and curling his fingers perfectly inside of you forcing you over the edge with a quiet moan of his name. Your legs nearly clamp around his head as he slows his movements and eases you through your high. He slowly uses his tongue to clean you up before pressing soft kisses to your thighs and over your pubic bone as you both work to steady your breathing.

He kisses his way up to your neck, his face there for a few moments. "You good?" he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. You nod in response, closing your eyes as you take a few more deep breaths before pressing your lips against his.

You moan at the taste of yourself when he swirls his tongue around yours. You reach for the waistband of his boxers pushing at them, silently telling him you want him to take them off.

"You sure? There's no going back after this," he tilts his head back to make steady eye contact with you.

"Christian, there's no going back after what you just did to me with your tongue, so yeah, I'm sure," you giggle.

"You can have that whenever you want it," he grins at you.

"Take these fucking things off," you grin back at him as you tug at his boxers.

He chuckles as he slides them down his legs, kicking them off of the end of the bed. When he settles back between your legs you reach to wrap your hand around him and he groans at the sensation of your touch on his painfully hard cock.

You use your thumb to spread his precum over his tip before pumping your hand a few times, his dick thick and heavy in your hand. He drops his head against your shoulder and breathes raggedly before you line him up with your entrance.

You hook one leg over his hip and thread your fingers into the back of his hair, as he barely pushes his tip into you. "Please baby," you whisper against the side of his face.

He nods and intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing them into the mattress beside your head. He grips your hip with the other hand as he slowly pushes into you inch by inch.

"Shit," he whimpers in your ear once he's fully settled inside of you.

"Chris," you roll your hips against his.

"Oh fuck, god, don't do that, I'm fighting for my life up here," he groans.

You let out a quiet laugh before you tilt his head up and press your lips to his, "it's not funny," he mumbles against your lips, "you have no idea how good you feel."

"Mmm, no, but I know how good you feel," you clench around him as he slowly starts to move.

He kisses you again, both of you moaning into one another's mouths.

"I wasn't kidding about not lasting long," he breathes out as he picks up the pace a bit.

"Ok," you whisper against his lips before kissing him feverishly.

"Do you want me to pull out," he grinds out through clenched teeth.

"I'm on the pill, do whatever you want," you breathe, lifting your leg up higher over his hip and deepening the angle he's pushing into you at.

"Fuck" he curses as you feel him twitch, his movements sloppy before he stills himself, buried fully into you.

"Jesus, y/n" he whimpers before collapsing onto you with his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he catches his breath.

"I'm sorry" he mumbles against you as you trace your fingers up and down his back.

"For?" you question him knitting your eyebrows together.

"Blowing it faster than a 15-year-old virgin," he chuckles as he wraps his arms around behind you, pulling out of you and rolling both of you onto your sides at one time.

You scoot closer to him and press a gentle kiss to his lips. "As long as the foreplay is good, I don't mind," you wink at him, "it's kind of flattering actually," you giggle.

"I'm a fucking professional athlete, I've got stamina, just apparently not with you," he shakes his head.

"Also, I'm a bit mad at myself for not making a move sooner, because damn," he trails off.

"I think the timing is perfect, honestly, I'm at a good place with my business where I can take a few breaks and not feel bad, and you're in a much better place now. We've been friends for long enough that no one will get suspicious when they see us together, so we can keep this to ourselves for as long as we'd like," you nuzzle into his chest for a few more minutes before hopping out of the bed to clean yourself up.

When you return to his bed, he's still naked so you slip in beside him without worrying about grabbing some pajamas.

"Can I ask you a favor?" he says quietly as he pulls you closer to him.

"Anything," you whisper.

"Save some of the places you really want to travel to for me?" he whispers before kissing you on the forehead.

"Of course," you smile up at him, "we can look at my plans for the rest of the year tomorrow and decide which ones we want to do together."

"I'd like that," he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again.

"I was worried it might be weird," you confess to him out of the blue.

"Worried what would be weird?" he knits his eyebrows together in confusion.

"This, sleeping together," you motion between the two of you, "we've been friends for so long and I was afraid that taking things to this level might be awkward. I'm glad it's not. It feels right, this feels right."

"I'll never get enough," he whispers into your ear sending a shiver up your spine as he rolls on top of you and you feel his semi-hard cock rub against your leg.

"Me either," you giggle as you lift your leg over his hip.

Tag List:

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @bracedes @landoslover

[eros7hanatos]

Can you write Dottore x reader with blasphemy kink? I'm lowkey a sucker for sacrilege. Also, I don't know if you're ok with feet, so this is optional.

A/N: I couldn’t really write for the feet kink, sorry about that anon T^T, also sorry this took SOO long, I’ve been so busy T0T. I've never written something like this so I hope it's alright! Not proofread ➽ In the eyes of god

Dottore x priest/priestess!gn reader Warnings: smut, blasphemy kink, sacrilege, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, i think that’s all?

word count: 974

It was so wrong. What you were doing was so so wrong. And you knew it. Of course you knew it, you were an important member in this church, highly looked upon and here you were. Getting fucked mercilessly in front of the holy lord himself. You swallowed a moan as your hand slapped onto your mouth, trying to suppress the noises coming out of you. “Oh no no, I want to hear you. I’m sure he would too~” Dottore smirks, his hands digging into your hips, pulling your hips to meet him halfway as he thrusts into you. You bite back another moan as he abuses your gummy spot, tears falling down your cheeks as your back arches on the wooden table. It was like a fever dream, you were talking with him one second and the next he’s shoving his fat cock into your aching hole. His hands came snaking up your body, from your thighs to your stomach then to your chest; landing there and playing with your erect nipples. It was impossible to keep your whimpers and moans in your throat, letting some loose as he continued pummeling his dick into you. “S-s-stop…” you tried to shout, but all that came out was breathy whispers. Suddenly, he pulled out, dragging his tip around your entrance, admiring the erotic scene; his cum lowly dripping out of your needy hole, already fucked out but still asking for more. You whined, feeling empty, you knew you shouldn’t be doing this, but the sensation of his cock made all your worries go away, your mind replaced with only thoughts of him. “Your mouth tells me to stop but your hole is practically begging for more. Look at you. Pretending to be such an innocent person. What a slut, you are.” he chuckled, before you could even answer, he turned you on your stomach and shoved his cock back into your hole, eliciting a loud moan from you. Your cheek, firmly pressed on the wooden table as your hands claw around, knocking a book to the floor. You gasp. You just knocked the Bible. While doing such an act… “D-Dottore!” you mean to shout, but it comes out as a moan instead. He laughs, getting close to your ears and licking them, suckling on the soft spot before pulling your hair and making you face him. He looks at you, pleased with the sight of you being absolutely fucked out, tears on the side of your eyes and on your cheeks, face flushed and sweat all over your face. He kissed you harshly, forcefully shoving his tongue inside, exploring your mouth as hee hums. Satisfied, he lets you go, sucking and biting your lower lip first. You pant and gasp for air, trying to regulate your breathing.

He lets go of your hair, your head hitting the wooden table, that’s going to leave a bruise, but that was the least of your worries. You were close to bliss, that electrical and aching feeling formed once more in your lower abdomen. His sharp and deep thrusts help you reach your high, screaming his name once more as he helps you ride out your high. Even after you cum he continues bullying his cock into you as you squirm and scream, sensitive from just cumming. “That’s it~ Let the whole world hear you. Let them know how much of a slut you are.” At this point your brain had turned to mush. All you could think, feel and smell was him. “Hmm, this should work well~” you hear him say. Suddenly, he pulls out but in an instant your hole is replaced with something hard and cold. You turn your head back to see Dottore shoving the head of a crucifix in your hole with a smug grin. You scream, the edges of the crucifix scraped your walls but the thought of doing such an unholy act turned you on, edging you into another orgasm.

You feel your hair being pulled once more, you whimper, throat aching from screaming. “Look at your lord while you cum from a crucifix in your tight little hole, what a dirty little priest/ess you are.” You whimper again, moans coming out of you as you look at the bigger crucifix hung on the wall in front of you, tears falling down your cheeks once more, replacing the dried ones as you cum. Your body falls to the floor, unable to hold yourself up. Dottore chuckles at the sight before grabbing your arm and pulling you up. You rest your arms on the table once more, gasping for breath. You squeal as you feel him slam into you once more, your legs almost giving out as he grabs your arm, pulling it behind you as he continues to pound into you. He tossed his mask to the floor, revealing his blue hair sticking to his face from sweat and that lustful look in his red eyes. He’s close. You can tell he’s desperate, from his pace and how deep his thrusts are. “Fuck.. gonna pump you full.. Gonna pump you full in front of your so-called god.” he laughs at the irony as he grunts, thrusting a couple more times before stilling and a familiar warmth fills you once more. You whine and squirm as he continues. Archons. How much more was he going to cum? After a few seconds he pulls out, eliciting a sigh from his lips as he wipes his cock on your ass cheeks. “I expect to see you next Sunday for our private sessions.” he flashes another smug grin, his white teeth shining as he pulls his pants back on and grabs his mask on the floor, securing it to his face before walking out. 

Now you have another thing to look forward to on Sundays.

[faegoddessog]

Years? Really?

Part 1: Birthday boy

Summary: A tipsy car ride home from a birthday outing becomes oh so much more.

Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only Fingering, Big cock, PiV, Friends to lovers.

Authors Note: It's been a while, I know. Writing and indeed creativity hasn't been on my front burner for while. Life, it's happening to me. But I was a couple drinks down riding in the backseat of a car and BAM, this thought struck. The thought became a fantasy and the fantasy became a story. Happy Birthday Austin, sir. I sure hope all your b-day fantasies come true!

OH! and check out the poll at the end!!

You were in the back of the generic sedan. The two mango margaritas you had made you just a little more relaxed than usual. He was sitting next to you, or rather he was manspreading next to you. He was a dirty blonde, tall, slim but muscular and fucking gorgeous. Like in a ‘how are you even real’ sort of way. Which you would totally be able to handle if it weren’t for the fact that he was also kind, sweet, thoughtful, endearing, and the best fucking listener on the damn planet. The mere fact of his presence shifted the energy around him. It was like a current of electricity flowing in the very air around him. He was the whole package.

You two had moved in the same circles for years. You had developed an interest in him that went beyond ‘just a friend.” A desire, a spark for him that you never told anyone about, much less him. 

 Austin was recently single, it was also his birthday. He had texted the group chat and said he needed his people around him to celebrate the day. Thrilled to be counted as ‘one of his people’, you were there, like always.  He promised everyone that he was ok, that it was actually a good thing. Nevertheless, you had seen the hurt behind his smile. 

She had only been using him, you knew. You watched it from across the living room at game nights; from across the table at restaurants. You saw how she treated him at the bars. He hadn’t expounded on what happened, only said that they were done. Who broke up with who? You didn’t know, you only knew that he was better off without her.  

Now he was in the back of the car with you and your DD friend was driving you both home. She and her partner are talking in the front seat. Those two had been married for years and were like the epitome of a comfortable happy couple. You can see their hands laced together on the center console. 

You hadn’t the faintest idea what they were saying. You are too distracted by the heat of Austin’s leg and watching the streetlights play across his face. Perfect nose, high cheekbones, plush lips and the graceful curve of his neck all intermittently highlighted as the car zooms along. His perfectly tousled hair is swept back away from his face, you watch his prominent Adam's apple bob up and down in a swallow. 

He makes some kind of noncommittal noise to the front of the car. You press your knee into his as your hand lighted upon his leg. You meant it to be a reassuring gesture between friends. But when he looks down at you, a slow smile spreads across his lips and fire races from his eyes directly to your core. Unable to look away from his magnetic gaze, you can only feel his long artistic fingers trace lines on the back of your hand and wrist.  

Just as the thought, ‘is this a good idea?’  crosses your mind, his fingers snake around your wrist and gently pull your hand farther up his inner thigh. Your pinky nearly brushes the bulge at his crotch. A slow smile spreads over your face and you inhale. Oh yes, yes indeed. 

The cool night air at the open air bar had made your thighs cold to the touch. His hand, warm and sensuous, slithers over the edge of your skirt. You open your legs to him and he drags his fingers up, up, he can feel the heat increase. He is a fraction of an inch away from your panties. 

It takes everything you have not to moan out loud in the backseat of your friend’s car. Instead you bite your lip and close your eyes.

Austin answers a question directed at him, laughing a little. You open your eyes just in time to see his face light up as he laughs. He goes from beautiful, perfect model man to giddily boyish. It’s so damn cute. 

“Yeah, you can just drop me off at her place, we came together,” you hear him say. Wait what? That is a flat out lie, you had been the first one there when you watched him get out of the Uber in front of the bar. 

His fingers grip your inner thigh in a silent appeal to keep your mouth shut. 

Is it possible that he has the same thing in mind? Maybe he thinks you are more drunk than you actually are and just wants to make sure you are safe. Probably the latter, that’s something Austin would definitely do, he’s so thoughtful and kind. 

You barely compose yourself when the car pulls up in front of your little house, a symbol of your freedom from your bastard ex.  You’d bought it with the money from the divorce and remodeled it yourself… well mostly yourself. Your family had been roped into some of the bigger projects. 

Austin grabs the shoulders of your friends as they wish him a happy birthday. You give them big smiles and goodnights. You completely miss the knowing look they give one another because Austin is suddenly opening the car door and helping you out of the car with an extended hand. Maybe you are a little more drunk than you thought you were. 

He doesn't let go of your hand as he walks you to your front door. You stop on the step and turn around. Eye level with him, it feels like his ocean eyes are staring into your soul, even in the dim porch light he is mesmerizing. You wonder how his plush lips might feel against your own. 

“How many did you have?” he asks, waiting, wondering if you’ll give him the brush off or invite him in. 

“Only two and with dinner,” you insist “I’m barely tipsy, birthday boy.” 

“Mmm, hmmm,” he nods as if he doesn't believe you and steps up to tower over you, wrapping his hand around your waist. 

“Wanna…?” you tilt your head towards the door. You can’t actually finish the sentence, not with him this close to you. 

Suddenly,  that one word is full of meaning. His nostrils flare as he nods. Anyone with eyes can see the thoughts racing through his head. Thankfully, you have eyes. 

The door closes behind him in the dim light of your living room. His hand snakes into your hair. 

Your purse falls with a thud to the floor. 

His lips are millimeters from yours. 

“Is this what you had in mind?”  his voice is barely audible and his hand shakes.

“Something like it,” your hand fists in his shirt, hesitation falling away.

“You sure you want this?” he asks with a shaky breath,

“Oh yes, are you?” you throw it back to him. 

“For years,” he states, rubbing his lips along yours.

Years? Really? How did you not know this? You are momentarily stunned until his lips meet yours and that line of thinking evaporates. 

He doesn’t mash his lips against you all sloppy and needy. Oh no, this man knows what he is about. His kiss commands, but softly and with the perfect amount of suction. Gently, he probes your own lips open. Not once in the countless times you have imagined Austin kissing you did you come close to what is happening to you, to just how talented he is. The kiss deepens and seems to come right from his toes. His hand cups the back of your neck as your fingertips dig into the columns of his back in a subconscious effort to get him closer, to get him inside you.

“Fuck Austin, you are really good at that,” you can’t help saying when you both come up for air. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers. His chest is rising and falling as he holds onto restraint. 

“We’ll unpack that later, right now though, Austin, please,” you push your chest against him. You are suddenly so needy for him. Years of pent up desire start cracking the ‘just friends’ shell you’ve been working so hard to keep intact. 

A devilish grin peaks one of his cheeks, “If you need to stop, just say.” 

You nod and lick your lips. 

He takes control of your mouth again. So immersed in the supple feel of his lips and the soft texture of his tongue, you don’t notice that he is backing you towards the couch. You are too busy helping him bunch up the hem of your skirt, moaning as he rubs the pads of his fingers along your damp cotton panties. 

You feel the bump against your calves and nearly lose your balance, but he holds you so close. 

“Condoms, my room,” conveying your willingness, if unable to use full sentences.

“I got some,” he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a few Skyns. 

“Do this often?” you ask with a wicked grin.  It doesn’t matter that much, you are just curious. He had never really been one to kiss and tell. But you wondered if sleeping around is the reason he is single, or the reason he’s doing ok.

“No,” he puffs out shaking his and looking away, “not since before I caught her… a while before too,” he shakes his head, a moment of pain in his eyes. 

“Oh Austin, I’m so sorry,” you want nothing more than to take care of him, especially on his special day. 

“It’s done,” he shrugs, “But, I knew I’d see you tonight and I kinda had hoped, so I wanted to be prepared.”

“Austin, all you had to do was say the word, and I would have come running,” you find yourself confessing. 

“Well, we will add that to the unpacking list,” he flashes a sheepish grin that is the cutest thing you've ever seen.  

“I look forward to it,” you banter back. 

“But right now, I want you,” his hand shakes as he cups your face, “I hope you won’t mind if we take our time?” 

“Or we could just take lots of times,” you suggest, pulling his face to yours, “Cuz I need…” your hand cups the large bulge of his crotch.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans against your lips.  

Then it’s like an explosion of motion. Your panties are kicked under the side table, and your skirt is bunched around your hips. You tug at the hem of his faded black 80’s rock band t-shirt. He pulls at the back of his shirt as it goes over his head. You’ve seen him once or twice without a shirt, the privilege of all men, to go shirtless once in a while with no repercussions. He looked even more delicious than you remembered even in the low light of your living room. His naturally slim waist was accentuated by the muscles he had built recently in his upper body. Pecs defined, abs faintly outlined with his motion, caps of his shoulders rippling into his bi and triceps. You can’t see the breadth of his lats, but you certainly can feel them. He is breathtaking.

Your knit blouse gets tossed to the wayside. You reach behind your back and unhook your bra with quick and practiced ease. His hands hold your breasts as the bra loosens. He peels it off with an appreciative moan. 

“Fuck you are so beautiful”, he dips his head to suckle at your chest. You don’t see him unbutton the fly of his jeans with one hand because your head is thrown back from the way his tongue works across your nipple. Zings fire to your spine and down to your pussy. Your hips thrust forward as you pull his hand to you. 

Thank the gods that you had spent the afternoon doing some spa-like self care.  You are smooth and soft and clean. 

Austin pulls back to watch your face as he slips his fingers against your seam. He definitely knows what he is doing. You bite your lip and moan as he presses on either side of your lips, activating those clitoral branches. Your legs nearly collapse out from under you. He catches your back, then your mouth, holding you in one strong arm. 

Your fingertips dig into his bicep. 

Holy fuck, he’s not even gotten to your clit yet. Tonight might just be more than you had ever dreamed. Your hips press forward, begging for more. His fingers spread your lips, triggering your pussy to clench on the nothing as he stretches you apart just enough. Slowly, one finger dips into your wetness, his movement so slight, twitching only the end of his digit back and forth.

“Oh fuck, Austin,” your eyes roll back in your head. Again, not even touching your clit.

“Oh yeah, you like that?,” his voice is a whisper in your ear, “I want you to cum on my fingers.”

All you can do is whimper and nod.

“Put your arms around my neck and your foot on the couch,” he instructs softly. It’s so easy to do as he says. He’d make an amazing dom.  You can feel your wet lips open to him as your skirt falls in a curtain behind your bent leg.

He kisses you as he slips a gentle finger inside you. Moans reverberate in your chest and flow into his mouth.  

His other arm is wrapped around you sandwiching you with long fingers splayed out over your low back and sacrum. He pushes a second finger in. It feels so good. He slides in and out a few times, spreading your juices. 

“Oh you are so wet,” he murmurs in your ear, “is that all for me?” 

“Uh huh,” you moan into his bare chest. 

“Heh, heh,” his laugh is throaty and deep, “That is so fucking hot, I love it.” 

He straightens to his 6 foot height, pulling you into his frame. Skin on warm skin. You feel his hard cock pressed against your side body, still trapped in his teal underwear and framed by his jeans.

His fingers drag moisture lightly up over your clit. You shiver at the contact. Then his thumb is gliding over your clit as his fingers curl inside of you. 

Oh fuck, your knees threaten to buckle again and  your eyes close as you moan.  His arm clamps onto you as he works you with expertise you didn’t know he had. How is he this good? Squelching in curling and gliding out while his thumb captures your clit, milking it just perfectly.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” each word a staccato as he fingers you. 

A litany of dirty phrases find their way from his lips to your ear:

“Fuck you are so hot.” 

“Yeah, tighten down just like that.”

“Does this little clit need more?”

“That’s it, beautiful.”

“I want you to cream all over my hand.” 

Each word, each stroke, pushes you farther to the edge. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you begin to chant over and over. Yes to everything, yes to anything.

Then you are moaning wordlessly, unabashedly pumping your hips onto his fingers. Your face screws up and your fist pounds his shoulder. It’s a wave that rises and crashes over you. Austin holds you in place between his palm on your low spine.  The thought strikes you, "This must be what waves feel like crashing against the shore, Ocean orgasms.”

“Fuck yeah, so hot,”  he whispers, jaw tight as he tries to maintain control of himself. He captures your mouth with his own, swallowing your moans.  He gently strokes out your orgasm, prolonging it without overwhelming you.

“I want to fuck you so bad, can I?” his hip tilts forward and back, nearly dry humping your leg.  Just the idea of being fucked by him might as well come with a halo and choir. This sex-god in friend-clothing can do whatever he wants to you.  You nod, not trusting your own voice at this moment. Looking down, you can see the pink tip of him breaching the side of his waistband. Your eyes go wide. Jesus, to reach that far he has to be… 

He takes a big breath, as though steeling himself, and drops his drawers to the floor, his cock swaying with his movement. It’s long and hard,  tapering to thick but not drastically so. It’s not a monster cock per se, but it's bigger than any cock you’ve taken before. Luckily,  you like them big. 

“Oh wow,” you mutter, stroking him lightly. When you look up, you see the mix of desire and trepidation in his eyes. 

“Do you still…?” he asks, almost embarrassed. 

“Still what?,” you stroke gently up and down his substantial shaft.

“Still want …me? This?  It’s not like…scary?” his brows draw together and he unconsciously bites his lip. 

What kind of insecurity was this? Worried about his big cock?

“Oh lord no,” you bend over and plant a kiss on his pretty pink tip, then kitten-lick the clear drop on his pretty little hole.  

His breath hitches. 

Suddenly a thought occurs to you, “Wait, did someone make you feel bad for your cock size?” 

“Maybe? Yeah, a little?  I don’t know,” he shrugs noncommittally, “She said it was intimidating and only ever wanted me to eat her out and finger her. I’m really good at oral, believe me,” he smiles, trying to make light of the body shaming he had so clearly experienced. 

You know exactly who he is talking about, and if you didn’t like her before, you hated her now. How on earth could anyone of substance do that to a man as sweet and adorable as Austin, then turn around and cheat on him too. That little wench wouldn’t know a good thing if it hit her in the teeth. 

“Oh, Austin,” you take his face in your palms. “Austin, no, it’s fucking beautiful and I want you to fuck me with this gorgeous dick…Slow, fast, hard, gentle; whatever you want.”

“Really?” The relief on his face is so evident. You nod just before he kisses you like a man dying of thirst. His hands wiggle your skirt over your hips and to the floor. 

“Where do you want me?” you ask, determined to make this night amazing for him.

His only answer is to lean over to pick up his condoms then take you by the hand.

You follow his naked, adonis-like form down the hallway to your bedroom.  It’s like a dream, the way he cradles your head as he lays you down gently on the bed.

His whole body is pressed to yours and you can feel him rooting against your leg, leaving little trails of pre-cum. You can’t help but reach down and stroke him, just to feel the size of him in your hand. His little moans are the best aphrodisiac. 

He sits back and rolls a condom over his rock hard cock. Christ it looks even bigger from this angle. 

“Oh god, I want it in me,” you murmur both for his reassurance and to simply state the truth. You want to feel him spread you, split you, sate you. It is without hesitation that you open your legs to him.

He leans forward on one arm,  and you reach down to guide him to your entrance. 

Despite his excitement, he pushes in real slow. 

“Holy fuck your pussy feels so damn good,” he moans. 

“Holy fuck your cock feels so damn good,” you respond in kind. 

The deeper he goes, the more stretched you feel. The sensations on your labia are just perfect. You feel gorged on his magnificent cock. You have never felt so full before. 

 Finally, he bottoms out, still not balls deep, but most of him is inside you. He pauses. 

“You ok?” he asks  

“Austin, I need you more, please.” you moan into his ear. You simply must feel him moving so deep in you. 

“Are you sure?” he says, still cautious. 

You hold his face in your hands, looking him in the eye with serious intent. 

“Please yes! Austin, you feel so fucking good, I might lose my mind if you don’t ride me.” Your pussy clenches encouragingly around him and your hips push involuntarily. 

His hips begin to move fluidly, pistoning that sumptuous cock in and out of you. 

He treats each stroke like a sacred deed, each one its own perfect ecstasy.  He buries his head in your neck, breath hot on your skin. Your hips rise to meet his, urging him closer. A smile creeps over his face, one that is just now beginning to trust that you really want it, really want him.

Now it’s your turn to coax him with your own dirty words slipped in between the moans that his thrusts push out of you:

“You feel so good stretching me.”

“Oh god, I can feel every inch.”

“I love it so deep in me.” 

“Don’t stop until you cum.” 

“I fucking love it.” 

It lights him up, to hear you say such dirty things while he is inside you. He goes faster, harder.

“M’gonna cum,” he blurts out after a few minutes. 

“Yes, fucking do it, fucking cum in me,” the idea itself nearly sends you over the edge.

He rails into you, groaning. His body tenses on a deep thrust and he lets loose. 

“So fucking hot,” you moan into his ear, “so good in me, on me.” You run your hands over his back down to his tight ass, 

His inhale is ragged as every cell of his body is drugged with a cocktail of endorphins.

You gently hold him close as his body relaxes on top of you. For a bit, he reminds you of a dragon; spent with his back expanding in puffs. Your muscles bunch under him and he stirs. You expect him to roll to the side and for words of gratitude to come out of his mouth. 

Instead, he starts moving again, as though merely the tensing of your body is new fuel for his desire. Something primal seems to take hold of him. It’s not words, but growls and grunts in your ear. Austin reaches down and grabs your ass. He is all of a sudden insistent and dominant. You are hardly surprised when his mouth clamps onto the crook of your neck, sucking and biting. He ruts into you deep and intense, nearly using you like a fuck toy. 

You’ve never seen this part of him, it’s fucking hot. 

The gripping of his teeth and lips send incredible shivers down your spine. The primordial energy overtakes you. You snake your hand between your bodies to get your middle finger on your clit. 

“Don’t fucking stop,” you snarl into his ear, “I’m gonna cum all over that brillant cock.”

You can feel his smile against your skin as he thrusts into you over and over. It’s beyond amazing, the way he works you.

“Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, fuck yeah!”  you moan. 

Your pussy clenches down hard on his big cock and you feel your juices flood around him. You are shaking with the rising energy as he pounds you to the pinnacle. Your toes curl and your vision blurs; your only anchor is his body on yours, in yours. Your blood-curdling scream resounds off the walls of your little bedroom as you writhe under him.

His fingers knead into your ass as his spine jerks and he tenses, his second release flooding down his spine. His wordless moan is stoppered by your shoulder, where there is sure to be a lasting mark.  His body shudders and jolts, then stills. 

This moment is bored into your mind: the light sheen of sweat on his back, the movement of his breath across your neck, the pressure of his chest against yours, the slight twitching of his cock inside you, the scent of his hair in your nostrils, the faint taste of his precum on your tongue. 

Finally, he lifts his head to look at you, his concern is poorly hidden behind the lopsided smile. 

“God, that was fucking amazing,” you say just before pressing your lips to his. 

His smile is far more genuine in your reassurance. In one motion, he rolls to the side, taking you with him. You are perched on top of him, cock still in you. 

“You, fuck. I’ve never had a woman say things to me like that, I don’t know what came over me, I just needed you again.” He says hands on your hips. 

“You don’t hear me complaining,” you say, “it was sexy as fuck.”

“Well thank you, I’ve not gotten to-“ he shakes the thoughts from his head, “Thank you.” 

“Oh, you are so welcome. For the record, you can fuck me like that anytime.” You smile down at him. 

“Give me a few minutes and I will take you up on that.” he chuckles. 

“In the meantime,” you purse your lips, “ what the hell, years? Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve had a little crush on you for a long time,” he blushes and looks away. This man, who just rutted into you like a damn animal, who’s cock is still buried inside you, who is starting to prove himself as a god among men,  is suddenly shy? And good lord, shy Austin is so fucking cute. You want to wrap him in your arms and just kiss away his sudden timidity. 

So you do. 

You lean down over him and press your mouth to his. You play your tongue on his, sucking at his full bottom lip. It’s the kind of kiss that takes its time. 

When you finally pull away from him, his self-consciousness is gone and fire has risen in his eyes again. 

“Well me too with you,” you murmur, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his eyebrow lifts. 

“You were unavailable, sir,” you point out climbing off of him, “and I am not that girl.”  

“True, you are not,” the look he gives you melts your heart, “you could be my girl, if you wanted.”

“Austin, I’ve always been your girl,” it tumbles from your lips and you realize that it’s true.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You are amazing, you know that? I’m sorry it took so long.” 

“Me too, but we are here now. You know, I’m glad I started feeling up your knee in the car,” you giggle. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure how I was gonna broach the subject,” his shy smile is back again, “but I might have had a whole corny speech prepared on the off chance that it came up.” 

“Oh dang! Now I want to hear the speech!” you tease. 

“No, no, besides, I don’t think I can remember it now,” he  reaches up to grab the back of your neck, “Thank you, I had  forgotten how good that feels.”

Jesus, how long had it been for him? You wonder. 

“Well, tell you what,” your hand slides down his semi hard shaft, cum from his two orgasms starting to drip down his balls. “Let’s get his condom off and clean you up a bit. Then I want this magnificent cock in my mouth.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he says with a smile. 

“Oh, and before you fuck the thought out of my head entirely, Happy Birthday Austin.”