#dick pic o’clock

[drgnflyteabox]

something to remember you by

pairing: soap x fem reader summary: your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos. w.c: 3.7k tags/warnings: dubcon, cucking, mild degradation, oral (m + f, rough), hair pulling, un-negotiated kink, dom!soap, clothed man naked reader, teasing scent kink (m + f), one (1) pussy slap, crying, squirting, unprotected sex, some anxiety, reassurance mid-fuck, overstimulation, some aftercare, abrupt but open ending, reader has some internal shame around sex/kink, reader doesn't rlly like her bf

At first, it’s nothing. Dirty talk, suggestive texts, passing comments while he’s on his second deployment with a hand around his cock and you pretending to be into it.

"Think about it, babe," he’s panting, but it’s less sexy when you can tell he’s deepening his voice on purpose like Christian Bale Batman. "Don’t you wanna give me something to remember you by? While I’m out here fighting for you?"

Corny. So fucking corny. Your feet are kicked up on your coffee table, fuzzy-socked, face schlopped with a cooling gel mask. Quarter past 8 o’clock, and he’s trying to sell you on letting one of his army buddies fuck you and take pictures of you. The absurdity makes you almost laugh.

"…babe?" Oh, shit.

"Yeah honey, I’m here." You’d kind of feel bad, if it weren’t for the ick factor. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, he was fine, it was just that since he’d joined the army he’d inched closer and closer to picking up a mic and dictating which body counts were okay to women over podcasts. That, and he’s gotten hornier. Kinkier.

Which is fine, really. Only you don't consider yourself adventurous. Sex is like a chore, something to put you to sleep, to relax the muscles. Relationships are quid pro quo - I suck your dick, you make my parents think I’m succeeding in life, deal?

Not to mention, you've never even considered stepping outside of the idea that sex is between committed couples only, sequestered away and hidden in the closet like old clothes.

"So, are you picturing it?" Schlap schlap schlap. He must’ve added lotion. "You can say no obviously, ughnnn, but I know this guy really well. I'd, ahhh fuck, sit in the other room."

"Thanks for being so considerate," you sound dry, but you’re honestly intrigued. Life has been monotonous since graduation, the transition from study to office… rough.

You aren’t adventurous. But you’re so fucking bored.

"Can I see him first?" On the TV in front of you, muted, Matthew Macfayden confesses his love tearfully in the rain. You want to be bewitched, body and soul. To feel something.

"So you’ll do it? Oh, fuck-" Not what I said, you think. His voice goes high, reedy, trembling with his orgasm. "See how fucking hot this makes me? I’ll send a pic, give me a sec."

It’s a group photo. He’s dressed in his uniform, head shaved, standing next to a group of a dozen or so men. Outlined, at the far corner with a group of guys big enough to dwarf a good third of the rest, is a man with building biceps and a smarmy grin and a confident, wide-legged pose. Hips jutted out. Fuck, he’s hot. You can see his bulge through his pants, through the picture, under a heavy tac vest.

"Get in, get in!" the apartment is clean for once. At least, clean without you getting sick of his clutter and playing maid. Did he do it himself to impress his friend? That makes you snort, but he doesn’t catch it, too preoccupied with his phone.

"Um, woah-" you start, taken aback. It looks like a porn set. There’s a plastic sheet on the ground in front of the couch. "I thought this was supposed to be casual?"

"It is, babe," he’s brushing you off, same as he did the few days leading up to this. You’d gone through some minor confidence and judgment crises, anxiety building like a balloon about to pop. All of which he’d brushed off.

It’s all fun and games, babe. Plus he’s done this before, he’s like a pro, showed me some videos - that was something you hadn't agreed to, just some pictures for him to take on deployments.

Still, trepidation makes you sweat, makes your thighs stick to the brown leather couch when you sit and try to sip water. Your socks crinkle the sheet.

You don’t turn when he arrives, still too nervous, knees stuck together and hands slipping on the glass from condensation when they start talking behind you. There’s too many what ifs - all reasons you’d used to avoid hookups in college, all reasons you wanted to break through your shell now.

Plus, you’re sick of hearing "did you finish?"

"This must be her," says an accented voice, gruff and maybe amused, "ye feelin' shy?"

No. You’re just nervous. Exposed. One of the only conditions you'd pushed was no cuck chair, but now you weren't sure how to feel to be left alone with him soon. This man is so big, so imposing.

"Hi," you say smartly. He looks just like his photo, only bigger. Bulging muscles and the same wide stance when he comes to stand in front of you. It’s only because you can’t stand sitting face-to-face with his crotch that you stand and hold your hand out to shake.

"And polite!" Loud. He introduces himself as Johnny, which makes your boyfriend's eyebrows raise. "So cute." he takes the liberty of bypassing your hand and grabbing your waist.

Oh fuck, he runs hot. His hands burn, even through your shirt. You feel self-conscious, plain, looking up at his probing blue eyes. They’re so intense, captivating, distracting you from the feeling of him getting closer and closer, till your tits are pressed to his.

"Hey-"

The moment breaks. Your boyfriend is looking at you both, unreadable expression on his face. Is he regretting this? Feeling emasculated, maybe? Hard to feel much sympathy when you’re the one about to get fucked.

And it was his idea.

"I’m gonna go to the bedroom," his eyes squint, flitting between the both of you before he scurries away, pants tented.

"Now that that's outta the way," Johnny grunts. "C'mere." And sits down with a grunt, pulling you to him.

You try to pivot, to sit next to him, but he's strong and coordinated so you wind up in his lap, back touching the arm of the couch and your legs slung over his, bum on one thigh.

"That's more like it, no?" there's that wolfish grin again, so close. One hand rests on your knee, possessively, while the other wraps around your shoulders and plays with your shirt. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?"

The hand on your knee moves to your face, gripping your cheeks in a grip hard enough to push your lips out into an embarrassing pout. You struggle a little, pulling at his wrist, but he doesn't budge.

He pulls his phone out, aiming the camera at your face, recording a video through a text-app. You can that it's a groupchat, assured by your boyfriend before that it was totally private, babe. This is jut between us.

"Now say hello," he puts his stubbly cheek next to yours, rubbing like a cat. "And introduce yourself."

"H'llo," you struggle through it, muffled by his grip. Your name is almost unintelligible, and your jaw starts to ache a little.

"Say, can I please suck your cock, sir?"

Your stomach tightens, right down to your pussy, which gushes a little into your panties.

"Cn'I please suck your cock, sir?" he's so fucking forward, just jumping in headfirst. The loss of control, your being told what to do, makes your clit jump. Sex has never been like this - you've never been so acquiescing.

"Of course you can, bonnie!" you're almost tossed to the floor, no gentleness as he pulls you toward him by the hair so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He scoots to the edge of the couch, leaning back against it, and uses that strong arm to rub your face on his bulge. "Get me hard."

He puts his phone on the arm of the couch.

You flounder, hands finding his knees and trying to pull back. He doesn't let you.

"Use your mouth, kiss me," his hand finds a firmer hold on your hair as you start mouthing against him, tasting denim, smelling his musk, letting it get to your head and make you dizzy. "That's right, kitten."

His cock starts to chub under his clothes, and you almost wish you could feel it in your mouth. Oral isn't your favourite, but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and drips into your panties is making you think maybe you were wrong about yourself.

"Up, up," your face is rubbed a little raw by the time you sit up, looking at him. Waiting for instruction. "Everything off, except your panties."

You obey, stripping your shirt and bra and then your shorts. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the apartment, goosebumps dancing along your arms and your belly. Self-consciousness almost has you reaching to cover yourself, until Johnny grabs you by the shoulders and twists you just enough that you're back to facing his phone.

"Look at these," he grunts in your ear, fingers finding your nipples. Pulling them, pinching them. It's not for you, it's for the camera. You feel like an object, an accessory, secondary to getting the shot of the rough pads of his fingers teasing you into whimpers.

You've never been more turned on.

"Nice, eh?" he pulls them up and out, which hurts, but draws a line of pure electricity from your nipples to your clit. "Whatd'ye think, L.T?" the name doesn't register. Army stuff, you assume.

You're turned back around sharply again to face his actual cock. He's pulled it from his fly, thick and leaking, while you were getting undressed. It's unfair, really, nice and long and curved.

"Ask me again," a statement. A command, phone discarded.

"Please can I suck your cock, sir?" the words make your cheeks burn, your body quiver, your clit jump.

"Ye can," laughter this time, worsening your embarrassment. His hand finds your hair again, pulling you down when you're too slow to touch your lips to the head of his dick. "I'm gonnae fuck your face, alright?"

Without waiting, he lifts his hips up and thrust into your mouth. It's not as deep as it can go, but you almost gag, unprepared. The next thrust is deeper, quicker. He's letting you build up to it, letting your hands rest on his knees for balance.

Your nose touches his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of him. Any attempt at hollowing your cheeks, sucking, licking, is futile. He's so quick that the best you can do is hang on for the ride, keeping your teeth in check.

Drool builds and spills past your lips, making wet sounds compete with his frankly pornographic moaning. He's a man possessed, using you while you squeeze your eyes against overwhelmed tears.

Finally he yanks you off of him by the hair, holding you up while you splutter from the unexpected change. Your hands go to your face, trying to wipe.

"None o'that, now," he bats them away, giving you a shake when you keep trying. "Leave it." like you're a bad dog.

Strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his cock, thin and gooey, that fall to your bare chest when he sits up.

You're turned, stood up and then guided to the couch to sit. Johnny slaps your thighs to get you to open them, lifting your feet for you so that your heels rest on the edge of the couch cushions.

"Awe, look how wet she is," he holds your legs, exposing your wet panties to him and to his phone, where he takes a few pictures. Again, you wonder about the appeal of this for your boyfriend. It's hot for you. Degrading, but hot. Or maybe more hot because of the degradation.

"Oh god," you say out of shock. You've never been so fucking wet in your life, and god forbid he sees how swollen with arousal you are underneath.

"Naw, just me," Johnny says, rubbing his knuckles over your pussy through the fabric. "She all wet and frustrated?"

You don't answer, hands keeping you sat up, chest heaving. You're still a little dizzy.

Johnny licks over your panties, mouthing over them not unlike what you did for him only a few minutes before. It's nothing, really, but you're so worked up that it startles a long, drawn-out moan from you.

He continues like this, never actually making contact with where you need it, with your skin. Every one in a while he turns his head to the side and grins, taking a picture or a videoclip while you tip your head back and resist begging him to just get on with it.

His nose presses on your mound, where he drags it down to your hole and sniffs.

That's what breaks your resolve.

"Please," you whine. Your voice is rough from taking his cock in your throat.

"Please what?" he opens his mouth and puts his teeth on you, not biting, just letting you feel them. Gnawing gently.

"Please do it," you look down at him, and even though he's on his knees you know you aren't the one in control. "Please lick my cunt."

A laugh, mean and condescending. Your eyes close in shame, pussy burning for attention.

"This cunt right here?" he pulls the gusset aside, whistling. "This desperate little cunt?"

"Yes, please," you curl your toes into the couch.

Something shifts in his eyes, some unrecognizable flash. It feels like danger, like you're in over your head. Johnny takes two fingers and rubs them over your clit, slowly at first, and then quickly when he feels how slippery you are.

Somewhere, a volcano erupts and it isn't comparable to the heat or the feeling of your clit finally getting attention. It zings through you, making you squeeze your muscles, taught and trembling.

The pads of his fingers are a rough sensation on your swollen skin, the worlds best vibrator, ribbed for your pleasure. All he does is rub, up and down over your clit, quickly and until your face starts to scrunch together in orgasm, trembling hard.

Then he pulls back and slaps you so hard on your pussy you scream.

You almost come from it, shocked, legs kicking out, skin burning and clit pulsing with desperation, back bowing. You keep making sound after, a long and drawn out aaaaaahhhhh while he grins like the cat that got the cream. Takes another picture, the click of the camera loud in the face of your disappointment.

The intensity of it almost brings you to tears, looking at him with betrayal and vulnerability in your face. You feel weak all of a sudden, cored, devoured, pulled apart as soft as slow cooked meat.

Your panties fall back over your skin, a minor comfort against the sting.

"Poor girl," Johnny says with false sympathy. "Let me make it up to ye."

Then you're up again, pulled and pressed against Johnny's chest until he pulls your underwear down and rearranges you to sit on his lap over his spread legs, yours dangling on either side.

"Gonna bounce ye on my cock, alright?" you nod. "Sit on it."

You lift your hips, using his knees for balance, and he guides the head of his cock to your hole. Stops you from sitting back right away with a hand on your hip, squeezing the soft flesh there, and holding you there.

"They're kissing," he laughs. You feel it, your cunt mouthing at him like a conscious being, separate from you. "Ye think they want tae meet each other?"

"Can I?" you don't fight to keep the whine out of your voice. You want to come, you want this aching and this emptiness to end.

"Can ye what?"

"Sit on your cock, please."

"Well, since ye asked so nicely," and then he notches himself properly again, and forces you down with two hands on your waist. You shout, arching, head thrown back. "Bounce on it now, kitten. Show me how badly ye want to come."

And oh god, you do. You rock forward, shaking at the feeling of him, no technique to guide you just pure intuition, brain and cunt and body as one. Distantly, the sound of the camera registers, but it only makes you move faster.

He spreads your cheeks, exposing where you're connected, putting the camera close to the wet clench of your cunt around his cock and - oh, he's filming it. There's no click, just the wet sounds of you riding him.

"Thas'right," he murmurs lowly, maybe for show. "You wanna come?"

"Yes!" you lean back, then, sweat slicked back sticking to his shirt, forgetting where you are and why you're here. Everything narrows down to your pussy, but you feel compelled to keep your hands off your clit even though you know it would make you come quickly.

You want to listen to him, to wait for permission. The thought is searing heat through your core.

Fingers find your face, slipping into your mouth. Your lips wrap around them, sucking like you would've his cock.

His other hand lifts his phone in front of you both, snapping shots of your unfocused eyes, your tits pushed into the air, his smarmy expression. He hooks his fingers then into your cheek, pulling back like a fishhook.

"Good girl," his lips against your ear, stubble scratching the hot skin of your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you for real now, alright?"

You nod, desperately. He pushes you up and off of him, face down in the cushion. He's still clothed, for gods sake, jeans rubbing against the backs of your thighs when he drags your ass back toward him.

The mushroom head of his cock finds your cunt again, pushing in, driving you nuts. You're moaning helplessly, letting him take your boneless arms to hold them behind you.

He fucks you like a man possessed, in a short strokes, barely leaving the hot clutch of your pussy. The sounds, if they were bad before, are worse now, wet and humiliating.

Every thrust feels like he's slowly inflating a balloon inside you, like something pulling taut, like pressure about to burst.

"Fuck, wait!" you shout and turn your head. The pressure is insane, mixed up with a building orgasm, twined together. He hasn't even touched your clit, and yet you're on the precipice.

Johnny leans down, lips on your ear. He slows, but doesn't stop.

"What is it, bonnie?"

"I have to pee," you'd have mumbled it before, but the feeling is so strong you can't help but whimper and cry. "Please let me up."

"Ye aren't gonna pee," he laughs. "Trust me, just trust me." Then keeps pistoning into you.

You feel like jello, like mush, the only solid part of you is about to burst and somehow it makes you feel real anxiety, dampening your enjoyment.

"Johnny-" you whimper, emotion clogging your voice. You feel vulnerable, held down and bared.

In need of reassurance.

"You're alright," he leans back down and nuzzles your wet cheek. "Ye can let go, kitten, I've got ye."

You gasp, pulsing hard around him, the feeling back again, before you gush around his cock, a spray so intense you cry as it forces him out of you.

"Good. Fucking. Girl!" he slaps your ass once, twice, on both cheeks. Rubs your flank like a horse and then plunges back into you when you finish dripping down your legs.

This is purely selfish, him fucking you hard now, jackrabbiting his hips into yours. You hear the phone again, just barely, as your ears ring.

You're raw from coming without any touch to your clit, a weird limbo between being on-edge and oversensitive.

"Gonna give me another," he's growling now, getting impossibly faster. You actually really cry when he reaches around to twist your clit, thrashing under him, not sure if you want to leap off the couch or crawl right back into him. "Come for me!" he shouts, pulling up the hood of your clit to really get at you, rubbing rough circles around your beleaguered little nub.

The second orgasm melts your brain out of your ears, so long and drawn out that you're still shivering with the aftershocks as he pulls out of you and paints your back with his release.

You pant, arm one arm dangling over the edge of the couch while you the other covers your eyes.

Johnny rubs a hand on your thigh, light and gentle, patting your bum as he stands. You move your arm just enough to squint at him.

His jeans are soaked.

You laugh, uninhibited, delirious. He laughs with you.

"All you, darlin'!" he takes another shot of you, pulls your legs apart and takes a picture of your wet, sore hole.

"Is she good?" ah, your boyfriend. He has his own wet spot on the front of his pants.

"She's good," Johnny confirms. "Ye need to take care of her now, right?"

Something in his voice changes. A different kind of authority to the one he used on you, one reserved for soldiers. For men beneath him. At that thought, your pussy makes a valiant effort to clench.

"Yeah, yeah," you hear. Your boyfriend has his phone out, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "These are great man, thanks."

You start to sit up, still shaking, but not wanting to have him see you that way.

"Man, you weren't kidding!" he goes on. Johnny frowns and steps forward to clap him hard on the back and grab his nape.

"Run a bath, do it now. Ye got granola bars?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on."

You're touched by his concern, and wind up soaking in warm bubbles after he leaves. You wonder about the photos, about what you look like. If your boyfriend is satisfied, if Johnny is.

If you were good.

Feels like you were, but somethings changed. Johnny found a soft spot knife-deep inside you and dug himself in, made you fly and made sure you were brought back to earth after, tenderized and then wrapped in comfort.

Beneath the water, you touch your pussy. Not to masturbate, just to feel the soft sore flesh, to remember the feeling of fullness.

Maybe, after his deployment, your boyfriend will want more pictures.

Fresh material.

Beneath the water, your finger curls into yourself and you sigh, satisfied.

[bullet-prooflove]

Silly Little Boys: John Shen x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @miraclesabound @cannonindeez @fadeinsol @nommingonfood @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

Dick Pics - You and John discuss your dating life in the ambulance bay during a rare shift break.

Brunch - John refuses to give up when you miss brunch with him.

John knows he isn’t like the men you’ve been with before.

It’s in the way you respond to him, as if he’s the oxygen you need to breathe. He takes his time, savouring the taste of you on his lips, his palms running over your bare skin, kneading those soft curves. You moan into his mouth at the sensation, arching against him and he rolls his hips against yours pressing you even deeper into the mattress.

Your hands roam down his back, chasing over the tattoos he hides underneath his scrubs before delving underneath his underwear grasping his ass. His thumb hooks on the elastic of those navy blue Calvin Kleins before he guides them down his thighs until there’s nothing separating you.

“You gonna let me taste you first?” He mumbled into your ear, his teeth lightly tugging at the lobe making you exhale.

“Next time.” You murmur as he leaves a trail of heated kisses down the curve of your throat. “Right now I just need…”

“To get fucked.” He summarises, reaching into the top drawer for a condom. “Because the last guy didn’t know what to do with you did he?”

You shake your head, your flushed skin the perfect contrast against his sage green sheets as you watch him roll the condom over his cock, biting your lower lip.

“Oh Cici.” He whispers, his dark eyes ensnaring yours as he guides his dick to just the right place. “You’re not running around with silly little boys anymore, you got yourself a real man now.”

He enters you slowly, filling you with every inch of him. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as you make the prettiest sigh.

“Good?” He checks in, his eyes drinking in the rapture on your features. Your palm comes to cradle his cheek, fingertips ghosting along the five o’clock shadow that’s starting to line his jaw.

“More.” You murmur and he smiles against your mouth as his palms chase down your thighs, hitching them a little higher up his hips. Your head tips back into the pillow, baring your throat and he wants to leave his marks all over it as a reminder to every single asshole out there, of who exactly it is you belong to. He kisses you instead, leaving a heated trail along your jugular before he sinks into you again.

The noise you make it’s beautiful and he chases that filthy symphony all the way to the crescendo, until you’re crying out his name as you combust like a star on his cock.

“You got another in you?” He murmurs, his palm smoothing your hair back from your features and you give him that fierce look of yours as you hook your ankle underneath his ass cheek, drawing him deeper.

“Harder this time.” You request, your nails raking lightly across his back. “I want to feel you for days after this.”

“You’re gonna ruin me aren’t you Cici?” He whispers before he grips the headboard for leverage. “All I’m gonna be thinking about everytime I see you in that uniform is how good you feel on my cock.”

He drives into you then, hard enough to punch the air from your lungs. It gets a little rough after that, the fast snap of his hips, the hard relentless thrusts that have you cursing up a storm as your fingertips leave bruises on his skin because you just can’t help yourself.

The euphoria, it builds and builds like a wildfire in his veins until it sets him ablaze like an inferno, consuming him entirely, eating up his sanity. He burns up in the climax as you hurtle over the edge, his release spilling into the condom as your hands thread through his dark hair, drawing his mouth back to yours, stifling his husky groans.

The sound of his ragged breathing echoes throughout the bedroom, his palms caressing over every inch of your sensitive skin, keeping you grounded in the moment.

“You gonna stay?” He asks you, his thumb tracing over your lower lip. You kiss the delicate pad and he feels something starting to bloom in his chest.

“Do you want me to?” You ask and his mouth claims yours with a tenderness that has you responding to him all over again.

“Yea Cici.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours as he looks into your eyes. “I absolutely want you to stay.”

Love John? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[lewiswhatshisname]

I still use this gif regularly. Most recently to cock block my own husband over the weekend when he asked for dick pics at stupid o’clock at night lmao

it has been like at least eight years and sometimes I still think to myself, when I am tired, “but I am le tired… well then take a nap! AND THEN FIRE ZE MISSILES” even though in retrospect that is like one of the most embarrassingly unfunny videos to ever come out of the internet 

[junesaber]

“Tats and Bruises” Rated M 

NSFW Fic #kacchako 

Summary- Ochako has a consultation with none other than Bakugo Katsuki. One of The Top 10 Tattoo artist in Japan. He’s known for his surly attitude and overall brash demeanor and is damn near impossible to book a session. Ochako thinks she can handle him. She wasn’t quite prepared for what he’ll offer. 

CW- Spanking, Slight Degradation, Dom/Sub undertones, bruising, biting, mentions of shibari, exhibitionism 

I have it posted on AO3 and Twitter under JuneSaber ❤️

“What do you want?” Bakugo barked, not bothering to lift his head from his sketch pad. 

There was a slight pause before a voice he didn’t recognize spoke up. 

“Um…a tattoo?”

He threw down his pen and looked up to see a pretty brunette standing nervously at the doorway. 

Bakugo Katsuki had made a name for himself over the last decade. It took months to get a consultation with him, and if you came across as an idiot, you either paid more or never got a chance to book a session with him. This girl was off to a shitty start. 

She was probably his three o’clock consultation. He glanced down at his calendar at the highlighted name. Ochako Uraraka. 

Bakugo scoffed. “Obviously.”

He motioned for her to enter. She walked in timidly, closing the door behind her. Bakugo gave her a once-over. Dressed in a loose-fitting gray Tee and a pair of leggings that hugged her curves. She looked like a dull, goody two shoes through and through.  

Bakugo didn’t feel like working on a stupid cutesy tat. After she’s done stammering about what she wanted, he’ll send her over to Tsu. 

“Walk me through it. Why did you choose me? 

She absentmindedly picked at the bottom of her shirt. “I heard you were one of the best.”

He smirked.” I am the best.”

He pointed to the chair by his desk. 

“Sit,” he commanded; the faster this was over, the better. 

“Yes, sir,” Ochako mumbled under her breath. 

She took her seat and looked at the man whose reputation brought her to this parlor. His ashen blond hair was styled in an undercut, the very tips of it dyed black. A line of piercings went across his right ear—sharp angular face and red eyes that were currently boring into her. 

“Where do you want it?” Bakugo grunted. 

“My…my thigh?“ she replied, her tone unsure. 

He huffed in annoyance. “Fuck off if you’re going to waste my time.” 

“Are you always such a dick?”

“Are you always this insufferable?”

Ochako bit down on her tongue. It probably wasn’t the best idea to piss off your tattoo artist. 

“Are you going to be a big girl, and tell me what you want?” he asked, turning his chair towards her. 

“I want it on my thigh,” she replied, her voice more assertive this time. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Bakugo replied with a roll of his eyes. “What do you want on your thigh? An infinity symbol?” He said with a shit-eating grin. 

Bakugo leaned forward a bit. “A lover's initials that you’ll end up coming back for a coverup.”

Her face turned maroon. Oh, this man was a particular brand of an asshole. 

“I want a girl bound and gagged surrounded by flowers.” Ochako blurted out. 

He sat back in his chair, raised an eyebrow in surprise, and grinned. 

“Kinky.” He pushed off the desk. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type.”

Bakugo reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a notebook shaped like a grenade. He opened it and grabbed a new pen. Ochako breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“You got my attention. Now I need details.” Bakugo glanced down at her bag on the floor. 

“You got any reference pics?”

She shook her head. “I saw your portfolio. I’ll take whatever vision you have.” 

Bakugo jotted down a few things in his notebook before turning back to her. 

“How big do you want it? 

“Pretty big,” Ochako said as she pointed to the area; she wanted to be inked.  “I have a lot of canvas to work with.”

He eyed her legs with an approving stare. 

“What are things you like?” Bakugo asked as he jotted down the dimensions. 

“Um…I really like space. Pink. Mochi. Books.” Ochako's voice dropped down to a whisper, “rope.” 

Bakugo couldn’t hold back his smirk. He misjudged this girl. 

“Anything you want me to avoid?”

“No roses. Not heavily colored.” 

“What position do you want her in?“

“Can I give you two, and you pick whatever you like best?” She asked, suddenly shy. 

“Two?” He questioned. 

“I wouldn’t want to hinder your vision, but they’re my favorite positions.” she replied apologetically, “either a hogtie or the crab.”

Bakugo eyed her and shrugged. “Whatever,” he replied with no malice in his tone. 

He scribbled something in his notepad before slamming it shut. 

“See you in two weeks.” He stated before waving her out of his office. 

Ochako stepped out of the tattoo parlor, her appointment secured.

“What an asshole,” she thought to herself. 

If he weren’t such a dick, he would be pretty damn attractive. 

Two weeks on the dot, Ochako received two text messages. 

“Pinky here from  Explosion Tattoo and Piercing! Your appointment is going to be around 4-6 hours. Bring snacks, air pods, and your phone charger. Oh, and water, but we have some in-house if you forget. Whatever makes you happy and keeps you entertained (boss man ain’t the type for chit chat as an FYI.),” the first message read. 

The second message was much shorter. 

“Wear pants that are easy to take off. No underwear. Don’t be late.” 

Thankfully no one was around to see her cheeks flush red. 

No underwear?  

————————

Bakugo pulled out his tablet and brought up two files. 

“Here are the stencils I drew up.” 

“Oh wow,” Ochako gushed.  

One was a girl with a crown of planets on her head staring out into a watercolor cosmos. She was crab tied, her head leaning toward her right shoulder, staring at the scene above her. The ropes were the palest shade of pink. An open book by her feet opened to a page of lavender fields. 

The other was laid out daintily on a bed of soft grass, rosemary and lavender. Her face was serene, the indentations of the supple ropes apparent against her curves as the girl pressed her face against the petals. Her skin kissed by the sun. 

“I don’t know how to pick. They’re both so amazing.” Ochako exclaimed, switching back and forth between the two images. 

“Don’t I know it,” Bakugo said smugly. 

Ochako was giddy. “Can I have both?” 

“You’re booked for one.” 

“I mean, I have two thighs.” She pointed to the girl hogtied on the field. “Can I save this one for another day?”

“Let’s finish this one first before you start getting ideas.” 

Bakugo stood from his desk and went to a narrow closet by his table. He reached into a bin and pulled out a dark green towel with orange stitching along with a plastic spray bottle. 

“Oi,” he called out and tossed it to Ochako. 

He sprayed down the chair before grabbing a handful of paper towels to dry it. 

“I’ll leave the room to print out your stencil,” he pointed to the table. “You get settled and throw that towel over yourself.” He ordered as he walked out the door. 

“Don’t waste time,” she heard him mumble through the wood. 

Ochako quickly took off her pants and grabbed her bag. She placed it on the table that was by the chair. 

Sitting in this room in her hoodie and a thin cotton towel covering her bottom half, Ochako felt so exposed. 

“I’m ready!” Ochako called out with a shaky voice. 

Bakugo walked back into the room with a tray in hand. He closed the door behind him and locked the door. With his free hand, he brought a small sliding table by the sink to her chair and kicked over a small bar stool. 

Bakugo sprayed down the chair and table, wiping them up quickly. He quickly gathered his supplies. Setting them on the table on top of what looked like wax paper. 

She watched as he set up, entranced. He moved quickly and methodically. Items seemed as if they appeared from thin air—a disposable razor, nozzle bottles wrapped in plastic, spray bottles, shaving cream, and little cups that he filled with colors. 

Bakugo put on a pair of gloves and grabbed the razor along with the shaving cream. He pushed the towel off her thigh and quickly shaved the area. He grabbed a bottle from his tray and rinsed. He scrubbed something on her skin before he rinsed the site again. 

Bakugo stood, stencil in hand, as he eyed her thigh, placing it on the freshly cleaned area. 

“Don’t touch it,” he growled as he picked up the paper towels and razor, tossing them into the bin. 

He slowly peeled the stencil off. “What do you think,” he asked her. 

“It’s perfect,” Ochako replied, in awe of this masterpiece that adorned her skin. 

Bakugo nodded to himself, satisfied with his setup. He placed on a fresh pair of gloves,grabbed the needle, and turned his attention back to her. 

“Spread your legs a bit.” 

She shifted them open slowly. 

Bakugo placed his dominant arm between them, and Ochako bit her lip to keep a groan from escaping her lips. 

She could faintly hear the music blasting through his one-air pod as he leaned over her thigh. 

He looked up at her stone-faced. “Don’t move, and don’t be a baby about it.” He chastised before he leaned forward, turned on his needle, and began to get to work. 

The first line was exhilarating. The sting of the needles against Ochako’s thigh gave her a head rush. 

She could feel the heat pool between her legs. 

“Oh no!” She thought to herself. Why must her body betray her? 

She needed a distraction, so she looked down at the man currently between her thighs. 

Watching him bent over her leg just inches away from her core. Fuck why did he have to be so damn handsome? 

This wasn’t helping. Ochako felt her face flush with heat. She could already feel the wetness pooling on her lips. 

Maybe once he’s done, she could use the towel to wipe it up, and he’d be none the wiser. 

“If you keep squirming, I’ll never finish. Going to have to charge you for the extra time.” he reprimanded. 

“Sorry, pain sometimes, kinda… Um, does things to me.”

He quirked an eyebrow before bending over and returning to his work. 

Ochako focused on her breathing, trying to remain calm. But the sting of the needle felt too good. Her skin erupted in goosebumps, and it took all her might not to shiver when he reached a particularly sensitive spot. 

The minutes dragged on slowly. Ochako attempted to read the book on her phone, but she kept rereading the first paragraph over and over. 

She tried in vain to stay still, but she could feel her wetness begin to drip onto the seat. 

The buzzing sound of the needle suddenly stopped. Ochako knew he must have noticed the mess she was making. 

“I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing,” Ochako said, covering her face with her hands. 

He sighed loudly and sucked his teeth. 

“Guess I have no choice” Bakugo put down the gun on the tray and removed his gloves, tossing them into the can. 

“You need a break.”

“No! I mean, yes. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up.”

Bakugo shook his head as he stood from his chair. 

“We’re never gonna finish if you keep acting like a bitch in heat.”

He went to the door and checked on the lock. 

Bakugo turned back to her, and Ochako swore she saw the vermillion eyes darken. 

He walked over to his sink and washed his hands. He rolled his shoulders and placed a hand on his chin, cracking his neck before turning the opposite way and repeating the motion. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you relax.”

Bakugo pulled away the towel that was covering her shame. He smirked. 

“Fucking knew it.” 

She covered her pussy with her hands, trying in vain to hide the wet spot on the cushion below her. 

He leaned forward. His face inches away from her own. 

“How about I take care of that for you?”

Ochako looked up at him, mouth open in shock. 

“Look, I’m not gonna get any work done if you keep squirming like some horny rabbit.”

He grabbed her wrists in one hand and pulled them up. If she weren’t in this particular situation, Ochako would admire how his hand enveloped her wrists. 

He brought his other hand down between her legs. Using his middle finger to lightly graze her entrance gathering the slick and slowly pulling it up till he landed on her clit.  

She desperately tried to bite back her moans. 

“Is that a yes?” he asked slyly. 

“You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I’m-“ she stammered out. 

“Hey,” his voice impossibly gentle. “You’re not the first one who’s needed a hand on my chair.” 

Bakugo leaned closer. His lips ghosted by her ear. 

“Let me help.” 

This Adonis of a man managed to break down the last of her resolve with just three words. 

“Please,” Ochako whined. 

“Good girl.” 

He placed one arm on the base of the chair by her head. Bakugo reached in between her legs again. Pressing his thumb against her clit. 

Ochako was in heaven. Bakugo somehow knew exactly what she needed. The perfect amount of pressure, the precise movement of his fingers. Her hands clamped down on the cushions of the chair. He leaned forward, running his teeth over the hollow of her neck before he bit down, dragging a loud satisfied moan out of her. 

“Hey, Pinky! Does Kat have an appointment now?” A male voice said suddenly from the hallway. 

The stranger's question pulled her back into reality. How could she be so stupid? She forgot they were in his studio. Anyone could hear her moaning like a wanton whore.

“Wait, they can hear,” she whispered, reaching between her legs to stop his hand from moving. 

“Fuck those extras.” he snarled. “Focus on me,” Bakugo demanded. 

He attacked her clit with fervor. She was so close, having been edged by the needle these past two hours. 

How could she not? His fingers were seconds away from bringing her over the edge. She gave in to his ministrations. Extras be damned. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he said huskily. 

He pressed a few small circles against her sensitive nub before dipping down and pushing his finger into her wet heat. 

“Wish I could stuff this cute little hole,” Bakugo whispered as he pumped into her. Crooking his finger against her sensitive walls, searching for her sweet spot. 

She was desperate for release, and the idea of getting fucked on this chair made her crave it.  “Please?” Ochako whined. 

His hand faltered for a second before he resumed his pumping. 

“You sure?” He asked.

She nodded, biting her lip. Bakugo pulled his fingers out of her center, and she moaned at the emptiness. 

“Stand up, and lean over the table. I ain’t fucking up my work 'cause you’re desperate for my cock.”

“Why that way?” She managed to ask as she slipped off the table.  

“With thighs this thick, can you blame me for wanting to grab them and mark them up? Can’t have that.” 

He ran one finger on the crest of her hip. “So these will do.” 

She wanted it so bad. But Bakugo was right. He can’t fuck up his canvas. Ochako leaned over the table, standing on her tiptoes to give him a better view. 

“You said you like pain?”

He slapped her ass. 

“Yes or no?”

She nodded, the pain making her thighs tremble. 

“Oi, be direct, or you’re not getting my dick.”

“Yes, please. Hit me. Hit me harder,” Ochako begged, relishing the sting. 

“Such a little pain slut.” Bakugo said with a devilish sneer. He brought down his hand to her left cheek, the force almost knocking her forward. 

He rushed to his desk and yanked open a drawer, pulling out a condom. Bakugo ripped open a corner with his teeth and pulled on the rubber over his throbbing member. 

Bakugo stepped in between her spread legs. Ochako immediately bowed her back, desperate for him to stuff her full. 

"Such a needy slut," she heard him mutter under his breath. 

God, she needs him to keep talking. Degrade her, use her. Anything, if it meant she could finally cum. 

He rubbed his hand over her right cheek before delivering a harsh slap. 

Ochako shrieked. 

"Again!" She demanded, arching her back as far as it could go. 

Bakugo palmed her cheek before delivering another hard slap. 

Ochako gripped the chair, eyes glassy, relishing in the pleasure. 

Bakugo leaned down 

"You take my hits so well; such a good girl," he whispered into her ear. 

He lined himself up against her hole. Bakugo dug his fingers into her hips and thrust forward. 

"Fuck” he groaned, "you're so fucking tight." 

He pulled back slowly, enjoying watching her squirm. He let the tip of his cock tease at her entrance. Ochako let out a small whimper. 

"Please," Ochako begged as she tried to push herself back onto his cock. 

Bakugo gripped her hips tighter, his fingers sure to leave bruises. 

"What? You don't want it nice and slow?" he taunted. 

She shook her head, tears threatening to spill over. 

"Since you've been a good client and haven't complained." he mused, massaging soothing circles on her reddened cheeks. "I guess I can give you what you want."

Bakugo slammed his hips forward, knocking the wind out of her. 

He began a hard, brutal pace. Ochako barely had a chance to breathe between thrusts. She couldn't form words, unable to manage a gasp from his relentless pounding. Bakugo reached his arm between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He pushed against the sensitive bud, and Ochako saw white. Her orgasm rushed over her. 

Bakugo didn't stop his brutal pace. He pulled his hand back and grasped her hips, pulling her toward him as he continued to thrust into her as forcefully as he could. Her feet almost lifted off the floor as he continued on, chasing his own release. 

He abruptly stopped with a loud groan. Bakugo wrapped an arm around her waist and used the other to braced himself against the chair. The both of them panting heavily. They stayed like this for a few moments, catching their breaths as he softened within her. 

Bakugo stood and pulled out, quickly removing and tying the end of the condom. He tossed it into the bin. Ochako felt boneless, leaning her entire weight on the table, making no attempt to get upright. 

As she came down from her high, Bakugo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white tube.

“Hnng?” She mumbled in question

“Some numbing cream; I did a number on you there.”

He gently applied the cream onto her reddened cheeks. She let out a soft moan. 

“Don’t get riled up now,” Bakugo said with a smirk. 

He capped the cream and threw it back in the drawer. He gently lifted Ochako by the shoulders and hugged her tightly. Peppering the side of her face with soft kisses. 

She sighed in contentment, melting into his embrace. They stayed like that for a few moments before he gently pulled away. He laid a towel on his desk chair and pulled her over to sit. He threw another clean towel over her and patted her head before reaching into the small mini fridge by his desk. 

He pulled out a water bottle, twisted the cap, and handed it to her. 

She graciously accepted. 

He reached into it again before pulling out a small, slender package of mochi. He shut the fridge door with his foot and tore open the box laying it in front of her on the desk. 

She watched through hazy eyes as Bakugo disinfected his station, occasionally sipping from the bottle in her hand. 

He walked back toward her. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and soothing. 

She could vaguely make out the questions he asked. Letting him help her stand and leading her back to the table. 

Bakugo resettled her into the chair and threw another towel over her. He cupped her cheek and gently ran his thumb over it. Murmuring till she resurfaced. 

“Hey,” Ochako said, blinking slowly. 

“Hey,” he replied, his vermillion eyes on her. “Ready to call it a session?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to ruin your work,” she said as she looked down at the half-finished piece. 

He nodded. 

“Let’s get the outline done,” he said after eyeing the clock “we can always book another day if you can’t.  Just tell me if it’s too much.” 

He rewashed his hands and put on a new pair of gloves. He returned to work in silence, and Ochako leaned against the cushion, sighing in contentment. The sting of the needle was now soothing. Ochako reached into her purse on the side table and pulled out her headphones. She set up her favorite playlist and settled against the chair in a dreamless sleep.  

“Oi. Wake up” 

Her eyes opened wide, confused for a brief moment before remembering where she was. 

He clicked on a small ring light, and Bakugo leaned over, taking a few photos from different angles. 

“She’s so pretty, Ochako’s said in awe as she admired his art. “Thank you.”

“Here,” he handed her a pamphlet on tattoo care. 

“Talk to Pinky up front to set up your next appointment.” He said as he exited the room. “She’ll have your bill ready.” Bakugo called back behind him. 

Ochako slipped on her sweats, careful not to rub the material in her fresh tattoo. 

She walked slowly over to reception. 

The pink-haired girl gave her a once over as she smacked her gum. 

“Don’t worry; he doesn’t charge extra for rocking your world,” she said with a wink. 

Ochako turned to beat red, dropping her wallet onto the counter. 

“I…Um. Ok.” She stammered as she picked up her wallet and shakily passed her card to the girl. 

Ochako wanted nothing more than to get home and sleep. Now that the high had worn off, she was beyond embarrassed by what went down today. 

Bakugo was leaning against the wall outside the parlor, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips as he idly scrolled his phone. 

She hurried past him, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk, avoiding his gaze. 

“See you in a few weeks,” he said behind her. 

A shiver went up her spine. Maybe if she asked nicely, he’d be up for using the rope she had in her bag to keep her still.

[thetaleoflevi]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Brat 2.0

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Brat

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Content: NSFW, Modern AU

Content Warnings: 18+ smut, established relationship, explicit language, inappropriate texting, light bondage, mentions panty gagging, mentions blindfolding, edging, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, repentant Levi, both reader and Levi are switches, penetrative sex, clitoral stimulation

Word Count: 3.6k

Description: It’s Levi’s turn to be punished. He couldn’t wait to show you how much he missed you while you were at work, demonstrating how you would be treated as soon as you got home. Too bad he couldn’t follow some simple directions.

A/N: Whoo! I got something done! Anyway, enjoy. More writing coming very soon.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Y/N?

Yes, Levi? I’m in a meeting. Is it an emergency?

Kind of *picture*

Your mouth gaped at the picture you received. His cock stood tall, hard as a rock, the tip shining with oozing pre-cum.

I’ll call you when the meeting ends. In twenty minutes.

*Picture* I miss you.

Another lewd photo of him. You snapped your head up and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to what you were doing. Luckily, everyone was in deep discussion about the future of the company.

Be a good boy and wait until I come home.

*Video*

You didn’t watch the video in that moment. You saw Levi holding himself up, hips against your pillow, in the thumbnail. You accurately assumed that he was fucking it like there’s no tomorrow.

Levi, if you don’t stop you’ll be in big trouble when I get home.

*Picture*

The aftermath sent chills down your spine. He sent one final dick pic, cum leaking out of the tip and dripping down his length. That was the final straw for you.

I’ll see you at home.

You turned your phone off and tried to pay attention to the meeting, but your mind kept wandering to the ecstatic look in Levi’s eyes.

You spent the rest of the day rubbing your thighs together at the sight of your helpless lover in all his lewd glory. You even went to the bathroom just to see the video he sent. Luckily, you remembered to bring your headphones because Levi sounded like a pornstar. He moaned your name so desperately as he fucked your pillow, pretending it was your warm pussy. Seeing him cum so hard into your pillow almost made your professional act waver. You would’ve touched yourself to the sight if only you were more ill-mannered.

You ignored the last messages Levi sent. Most of them were apologies, saying he won’t send anymore pictures or videos, but you had already made up your mind. You’re going to punish him for not listening when you were being patient. Your patience ran out quick, but he waited until you snapped to end his rebelliousness. He knows better than to go against your word. He knows you can make him a submissive toy in an instant.

“Hey, Y/N. Any plans for the weekend?” Jean, the building flirt walked up to you as you were leaving your office.

“No, I was actually gonna stay in and have a movie marathon. Maybe have a couple glasses of wine. I don’t know.”

“Go out with me. Let’s have dinner this weekend, huh? What do you say?” He has that same hopeful expression he always has when he asks you out again and again.

“I’m married, Jean. I have a husband to watch these movies with and to share my glass of wine with. You know this.”

As always, his expression drops and he makes you feel guilty, but you’re ending this once and for all.

“Hey, Mikasa! Just getting here? Great. Jean wants to take you out for dinner this weekend. Eight o’clock? Cool. Sounds like a plan. Have fun.” You zoomed into the elevator as fast as you could, spamming the button to shut the doors to avoid the looks of confusion from both parties.

You shut your eyes and exhaled as soon as the doors shut. You opened your eyes a few seconds later to check your phone. Of course Levi bombarded you with messages.

I’m sorry. I’ll be good.

Please answer.

I made dinner.

I’m a good boy, I swear.

I’m your good boy.

No. You shouldn’t feel bad. He can’t make you feel guilty when you haven’t even done anything to him yet.

I love you.. ❤️

“Fucking hell, Levi.” You mutter to yourself, laying your head against the wall for the remaining time it took for the elevator to reach the first floor.

The doors open and you exit the elevator. You walk a few feet away before stopping to send Levi a message.

I want you on the bed by the time I get home.

I love you too.

No heart. He knows what it means. You want him to know how angry you are.

—

You pulled the keys out of your coat pocket and unlocked the door. The house was as you had left it before you left for work, except now the smell of your favorite meal flooded every room. Levi messed up and he knows it.

He must be trying to get back on your good side because he’s not on the couch sipping tea and reading a book, like he usually is. He’s most likely on the bed, ready to recite a speech to you about how he’s sorry and how he just missed you and really needed your touch.

You set down your bag and took off your coat, laying it on the couch. You made your way up the stairs, ready to enter the room with the half open door. You pushed the door open gently, and there he was. Your serious, unforgiving gaze was met with a slightly wide-eyed one.

“I don’t even know who I was texting earlier. My Levi isn’t one to disobey simple instructions.” Your tone was calm and collected, a heavy contrast to the storm that had taken over your features.

“I’m s-“

“Ah. I don’t want to hear your apologies. It won’t get you anywhere at this point.”

You looked him up and down, something was clearly off, and it wasn’t his clothes.

“Why aren’t your clothes off?” You crossed your arms with impatience.

“You didn’t tell me to get naked. You told me to be on the bed by the time you came home.” His mind can be innocent when it wants to be, but now is not a good time.

“That…brain of yours didn’t get the idea?” You wouldn’t dare insult his intelligence, no matter how pissed you are. Levi is the smartest man you know.

“I’m sorry.” His cheeks had a rosy tint to them.

“Yeah, yeah. Just take off your clothes and lay down. I’ll be back.”

You planned the entire night on the drive home from work. Let’s just say, this will definitely be engraved into his ginormous brain.

Handcuffs or rope? Hmm… rope.

Ball gag or panty gag? Panties for the win. Who knows? You might not even use them on him.

Blindfold or no blindfold? Mmm… you want to see the look of desperation on his face. No blindfold.

“No complaints or the punishment will double.” You almost let his majestically beautiful body distract you as you entered the room.

Levi lifted his head to see what you brought. He had nothing to say—at least nothing that would get you to ease up.

“Arms all the way up and cross your wrists.” The red rope hit the pillow, lifting higher and higher as it went around Levi’s wrists. You knotted it, taking in how good it looked on his fair skin.

“This shit is gonna leave marks on my wrists.” He says looking up at you as you tugged on the knot to test its strength.

“Good. I hope it’ll make you think twice about rebelling against me.”

He huffed, a quick roll of his eyes as he relaxed his neck and looked at the ceiling, waiting for the torture to begin.

You moved away from the bed and started undressing yourself. Shirt: gone. Pants: gone. Bra: gone. Panties: still on.

You let your hair down from the bun it was in, having little to no clue that Levi was already hypnotized by your beauty. You glanced at him, his lips were slightly parted.

“Relax, Ackerman. The show’s about to start.” You go to the end of the bed and get on, crawling until you reach Levi’s stomach, where you plant yourself.

“Why am I the one punishing you this time, Levi?” You ask, both of your hands on his chest.

“Because I was being inappropriate at a bad time.”

“Mhm.” Your index finger circles his right nipple, and you watch as pebbles instantly form around it. He inhales sharply when you don’t stop.

“What else?”

“I-I um… I kept sending pictures when you told me to stop.”

The slight stutter in his words made your pussy throb. You could already feeling your arousal begin to soak your panties.

You put your index finger inside your mouth, coating it in saliva, then went back to toying with his nipple.

“Right. Why is that? I-“

“Fuck.” He groaned, breath hitching.

“Relax. As I was saying, I thought you were a good boy. What happened?” Your experimental touching ceased.

You scooted down lower to where his cock stood tall, like it did in the pictures he sent you. Levi watched you like a hawk to detect your next move. His eyes widened when you grabbed his length and began running it against your clothed folds. He was already malfunctioning.

“I-I am.. I am a good boy.” His chest rose and fell rhythmically, at a pace that quickened with every sinful touch of yours.

“Yeah? You think so?” Your panties were beginning to stick to your cunt, a mix of your arousal and Levi’s pre-cum covering them. It was a delicious feeling, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to stuff your panties in his mouth already.

“I do. Y/N, please.” His hips bucked up slightly, but you pushed them down instantly.

Begging? This early? But you just started.

“Nope. We’re not gonna do that.” You went lower down his body until you sat on the bed, between his legs.

Your hand immediately went for his cock, and Levi twitched at the feeling. Your thumb smeared the pearl of pre-cum all over his tip, mainly focusing on the slit.

“Damn it… It feels so… feels so good. Please, keep going.” His hips rolled against the bed.

“Aww, how cute. You think i’m gonna let you cum. No, baby, you have to feel the disappointment of losing at least five orgasms before I let you cum. Count them or we start over.”

A sickly sweet smile curled onto your lips as you began pumping his length, enjoying the way he throws his head back into the pillow. Oh, he looks so fucking delectable. His jaw hangs open to let out the most unholy noises.

“Ah, ah, ah! Come on, come on!” His abs began to tremble as his first orgasm neared. You know that look on his face? The one where his eyes shut tightly and his eyebrows furrow, and he’s panting like he ran a mile in thirty seconds, with sweat trailing down his temples and forehead? Yeah, that’s the look on his face right now.

And in 3…2…1…

You pull your hand away from his cock, stilling your entire body as you wait for him to open his eyes.

“No, no, no. Please… Fuck!” His eyes open, glossy with tears of frustration.

“One.” He says, defeatedly. His voice is shaky.

You giggled as Levi just stared at you, his breathing regulating as he came down from his unfulfilled high.

“I’m gonna break you, aren’t I, Levi?” Your fingertips dance on his thighs.

“I’ll be fine.”

Stoic as always. You know he’ll be a mess by his third unfulfilled orgasm.

“If you say so. Let’s keep going, shall we?” You slide your fingers up his thighs, higher and higher until you were within reach of his balls. You brushed the soft skin gently, the feeling making his jaw clench.

“Your balls are so pretty, sweetie. I should get to play with them more often.” Your other hand made its way to his hard cock. He was already so sensitive from the first buildup, and now that you’re fondling his balls, he can barely hold it together. You begin pumping his cock, using his pre-cum as a lubricant to ease and quicken the movement of your hand.

Levi’s eyes rolled back as he once again tried to fuck up into your hand.

“Stay still, honey. This isn’t a reward.” You press down on his hips. “You’re lucky I’m even touching you. I could always just leave you like this for an hour. Maybe two, if I want to watch a movie and have a cup of tea.”

“N-No, i’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Another minute or so went by and Levi was back to his moaning and whimpering, his release nearing again.

“Please. My love, please… Please.”

“Begging won’t work on me this time, baby. I’m sorry.”

You gave him one, two, three more pumps before pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

“You did this to yourself.” Your tone is soft, almost forgiving as you reached a hand out to his cheek, catching a single tear that slid quickly. His damp eyelashes brushed against his cheeks. You were driving him insane.

“It’s okay. Only three more to go.”

The last three were borderline hell for Levi. He cried and whimpered and moaned, and you felt no guilt at all for putting him through this, because in the end, you know he’ll get what he wants and more.

Your hand glides up and down his length quickly. His thighs are trembling and his face is a gorgeous mess. Damp strands of hair stick to his forehead and temples.

“Levi.” You cooed, massaging his thigh with your other hand while you continued to stroke his length

He mumbled something incoherent. His eyes are shut, and though he looks peaceful, he is putting an extreme amount of effort into trying not to cum all over your hand after making it so far.

“Levi, if you’re not gonna answer me correctly, will you at least look at me?”

Your hand stopped and his eyes shot open.

“N-No. Keep…keep going.”

Your thumb rubbed against his flushed tip, luring many shaky moans and quivers from his abs.

“Fuck! Fuck—please, Y/N. I can’t. I can’t anymore.”

You mentally took a step back to admire how pretty Levi looked with his hands tied, all submissive. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes were half-lidded, his jaw hung to release the breathiest of moans. You subconsciously smiled at how helpless he looked. As long as you were in control, he could be there for hours.

His hips stuttered as he neared yet another orgasm.

“You’re such a good boy, Levi. Would you die if I just stopped right now?” Your hand slowed to an agonizingly slow pace.

“Please, don’t. Please, don’t. Please-“

“Shh. I have something to tell you.” You released his length.

“Five. Fucking five.” He croaked, trembling at any lingering contact you gave him.

“You did so well, my love. Do you want to cum?” You thumbed at his slit, causing his eyes to flutter shut. He nodded in response, tears streaming down his pretty face.

“I’m gonna let you choose how you want to cum. I think i’ve punished you enough. Do you want me to untie you?”

Once again, he nodded. What you didn’t know is that he had planned every move he was going to make since the first orgasm you revoked from him.

“My pretty boy.” You mumbled, unwrapping the rope that threatened to bruise his wrists. Once he was free, he rolled his wrists a little to get rid of the sore feeling being in the same position gave them.

You turned away for a second. One second—and Levi managed to grab you by your waist and sit you down between his legs within those thousand milliseconds.

“What are you-“

“So here’s what’s gonna happen…” His voice was low against your ear, gravelly enough to make goosebumps rise all over your body.

“You’re gonna ride me, and i’m gonna cum inside you. Then we’re going to relax for a little, hop in the shower, maybe round two if we’re up for it by the time we’re done here, then we’re going to sleep.”

You chuckled incredulously.

“It’s so cute how you think you have control. I just spent the past hour edging you, making you withhold your cum, and you obeyed so graciously. I don’t see a drop of your cum anywhere.”

“Want to see how much control I have? Believe me, sweetheart, I can make you beg like your life depends on it.” Even when he was challenging you, he still gave you the most tender kisses on your neck. That’s the kind of love you and Levi had.

“Try me.”

Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.

“There’s no need for any space between us, huh?” You were lifted so easily, like you weighed no more than a feather, and dropped right onto his hard cock.

You bit your lip, fighting off the barrage of moans that normally would have flowed out of your mouth. Levi would have came instantly if he wasn’t trying to prove something.

His middle and index fingers went straight for your clit, starting with circles slow enough to drive you just a little bit insane.

“What did you think of those pictures I sent you? Surely, you got an idea of what I wanted to do to you.” His lips went for your neck, teeth leaving imprints on the delicate skin.

“I thought—ah—hem,” Your moan turned into a fake cough. They… they were lovely. It was just bad timing.”

“Mmm, that’s good to hear. You know, I spent all day thinking about you. Your beautiful face—just you in general. But when I started thinking about you, some other visuals came to mind, like the way you look when I fuck you dumb.”

You can’t break. You have to prove that you’re stronger than dirty talk.

“It’s good to know that you kept yourself… um…uh… busy while I was at work.” You squirmed when his other hand made its way to your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. His fingers started working a little faster against your clit.

“You smell so good. It’s intoxicating.” His lips trailed from your neck, to your shoulder, to your shoulder blade. No kissing, just the feeling of his damp lips running against your skin.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. It would be a dead giveaway that he was rearranging your insides so well like he always does. You can’t give him that victory just yet.

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you? I know you watched the video.”

“I did… I missed you so much. I missed you so much, Levi.”

His cock was pulsing at the desperate tone in your voice. There was now a major crack in your façade.

“Did you like how I said your name?”

You’re doomed if he starts moaning your name into your ear.

“Hmm? Something like, Y/N.” His breath tickled your ear.

“Fuck, Y/N… Y/N… Y/N…—NGH—come on, lovely.”

All hell broke loose inside you. You felt like you could cum harder than you ever have if he moved just a little faster. Your pride was nothing to hold onto anymore because all you want is that feeling that makes your brain buzz.

“Levi, please.” You mumbled defeatedly, still holding onto a corner of your pride.

“What was that?” He asked, purposely luring your begging.

“Please.” You tried again, beginning to feel the burn on your cheeks that you get when losing to Levi like you always do.

“I think there’s a slight breeze in the room.” His nose met your temple as he whispered against your skin,“Did you say something, sweetheart?”

His fingers skillfully quickened their pace on your clit as you were about to answer.

“I said… I want you to fuck me, Levi. Did you hear that? Fuck. Me.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“Got you.” His ego skyrocketed with your response.

“It’s okay. Now that that’s out of the way, you can stop being such a hard-ass and let me here those adorable sounds.”

He turned you around so that you were facing him. God, you missed the sight so much.

Control was something you both fought for all the time, but in the end, Levi always reigns because you like being handled by him. You like that he can pin you down effortlessly, and put you back in your place if he needs to.

“Oh! Oh, god! Levi!” Your nails clawed at his back, leaving a trail of harsh pink until you intwined your fingers in his hair.

“Mhm. Come on, baby. Come on. Fuck me as hard as you can.” His hands attached themselves to your ass, assisting you as you bounced up and down on his cock.

“Ha—holy—Levi!” You cried out before smashing your lips onto his. He inhaled every single one of the moans you fed him in your attempt to stimulate every part of your body during this hell-raising orgasm.

Your hands pushed the back of his head to deepen the already breathtaking kiss you led, your toes curled against the blankets beneath you, your stomach quivered, and your chest was overwhelmed due to the lack of air in your lungs.

Levi pulled away, his orgasm beginning to strengthen. Overstimulation was getting closer and closer for you with every one of his enhanced thrusts.

He took matters into his own hands, thrusting while moving you so that his push met your push every time.

“I’m sorry… I’m so—hah—i’m sorry.” He breathed. “Fuck. Fuck!”

You suddenly felt even more full than before. Your name is always brandished by Levi. Every time he says it, it’s like he’s polishing it until it glows.

“Hey, look at me.”

He was too busy muttering the first syllable of your name to himself.

“I said, look at me.” Your thumb and index finger held onto his chin and lifted his gaze to meet yours.

“Who’s in control now, baby?” You whispered, smiling lazily.

Oh, the simple things Levi does to turn you on.

His hand got a grip of your wrist, pulling it away from his face, and in two seconds you were on your back with your hands pinned to either side of your head.

“Still me.”

[narcos-narcosmx]

Reaction to _ | ficlet 2

Reaction to a 🍆 pic

This is a narcos-only Sideblog for @artemiseamoon

Part one

Thank you 😄 inspo credit to @purplesong1028 (original post). These are not really edited rambles. You know the show you know the warnings. All for fun. Enjoy!

This round: Maria, Cochiloco (ft. Chapo and Güero Palma), Steve Murphy (ft Javi) and my addition of Yessica

Maria aka my Queen

After putting the gifts in the car, Maria shut the truck and made her way to the front. Though she has people who can take care of tasks like this, she’s always been independent and prefers to do things herself. Except for the nights she likes to read in silence, then she prefers things to be brought to her.

With the holidays around the corner, she wanted to make sure she had the perfect gifts for her kids. And seeing the smiles on their faces as they open these up, is going to be well worth the long drive to this specific toy shop.

Just as Maria enters the car, her phone buzzes. Taking it out of her purse, unlocks her phone and stares at it with raised brows.

It’s a dick pic.

Maria take a closer look and shakes her head disapprovingly.

Definitely a dick pic.

Maria clears her throat and pressed hard on the number. The option to call pops up, she does.

It rings one, twice. Then a third time. When the person picks up, she goes off before they get a chance to speak -

She ends her thorough verbal assault with six words, spitting them out like venom, “YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!”

Maria hangs up the phone.

Cochiloco

Ft. Chapo and Güero Palma

Being an assistant at Güeros office meant you saw a lot of funny things, between Cochi and Chapo, you were guaranteed a good laugh at least once a day. You’ve grown used to coming in, start of the day, and stumbling upon a joke.

So when you round the corner and hear their cacking, you know you’re in for something good. Then you enter the office and stop dead in your tracks. You feel your eyes grow wide and you nearly drop your coffee.

“What is that?!” You tilt your head slight, trying to decipher what you’re looking at. Then it hits you, it is that, it’s that blown up to small poster size.

Barely keeping it together, Cochi and Chapo curl over with laughter.

Cochi walks over to you, still laughing, “some son of a bitch sent me a dick pick so -“ more laughing “I posted it then printed it out-“ he howls louder and grabs his stomach

Chapo falls out of his chair.

Cochi points to him, “and this - “ still laughing , “sent one back!”

You shake your head and glance at Chapo, then Cochi.

“Whyyyy would you do that?” You turn your back to the giant dick staring at you.

“Because it’s funny!” Chapo and Cochi say at the same time.

Then the door opens. You catch the brief closed mouthed smile on Gueros lips as he enters. You also watch it drop.

“What the fuck?”

His response makes them laugh even harder and you start to laugh too.

Guero is too tired for this shit. Everything with Miguel and the plazas is stressing him out, and they’re here doing this?

He goes up to the wall, tears it down, then goes over to his desk. He sighs and wishes he was home with Lupe and the kids. Thinking of them alone, brings a smile back to his face.

Cochi kicks the crumpled paper over to Chapo, he’s hiding his laughter behind his arm. Chapo picks it up and puts it in the drawer.

You know them well enough to know, they’re definitely keeping it.

Steve

(Ft Javi)

Steve closes his eyes. It’s been a long day. He’s going to have fucking nightmares about paperwork. He’s going stir crazy in this office and needs some action soon.

Opening then again, he glimpses at the window, the moon is out and it must be about 7 o’clock now. He pours a glass of whiskey and sits back in the chair.

When his phone buzzes, he expects to see a text from Connie, but that’s not what he gets. It’s a text from an unknown number, a fully erect cock staring right at him.

“What the fuck?” Steve drops his phone on the desk and pushes it away from him.

Steve stares at the phone, then picks it up again. He types, “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Then presses send.

“Asshole.” Steve picks up his glass, takes a huge gulp, then gets back to the paperwork.

Javi walks in five minutes later with a fresh pack of cigarettes and some street food in a brown paper bag.

Steve sits up, “Fuck you Javi.”

“What did I do?” Javi looks at him innocently and puts the bag down.

Steve gets up and shows him the pic.

Javi snickers, “you think that’s me?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I’m offended. I thought we were friends.”

Steve looks at it again, “who the fuck would send me a dick pic then?”

“Better question, why’d you keep it?” Javi raised a brow , leaned against the desk and lit a cigarette

Steve flips him off then deletes the pic.

Javi chuckled, bringing the cigarette to his lips, “if you want to see mine -“

Steve walks out of the room.

Yessica

I adore her so added her in…

Zipping the dress closed, Yessica turns and looks in the mirror. She was playing for someone important tonight, the manager made sure to drive that home to everyone.

It would be a long night, but as long ad it paid well, it’s fine. Yessica finished the final touches of her outfit then grabs her purse.

She heads to the counter to get her phone when it starts to buzz. She slides the screen and opens the text.

Yessica snickers, then raised her brows.

Well, if this is a sign, tonight’s going to be interesting

She puts her purse down and replies,

“I’ve seen better.”

Three dots immediately pop up, vanish, pop up again then vanish.

Yessica chuckles then writes, “hey, maybe it’s cold out? Try again later?”

Three dots pop up, then vanish.

Yessica types another message, “heres a tip, don’t take it fresh out the shower.”

She presses send.

‘Not delivered’ pops up under her message.

“Guess I hurt his feelings .”

Yessica puts her phone in her purse, grabbed her keys, and heads out for the night.

[ramp-it-up]

Very Merry

​​Pairing: Rafael Casal x Ofc Holly Woods

Summary: Rafa calls you to wish you a merry Christmas. It is Very Merry Indeed.

1Kinktober Kink: Voice Kink/ Phone Sex

Word Count 1.5K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT! Read at your own risk, mutual pining, innuendo, explicit talk, explicit pics, mutual masturbation, Daddy kink if you squint, attempted orgasm denial, oh one sex. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

For more context read the Holly Rafa fics here.

A/N: I know this is a Christmas fic, but it fit right in with 1Kinktober, and I wanted to bring these two back. Thanks to @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs for the ask and the picture above . This is for the 7th DAY of #rampitup1Kinktober! One week! TYSM for following me! 🧡

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You up?

You looked at the time, it was 7 am. 5 o’clock LA Time.

What a cliche Rafa, lmao. Yea, you know my body gets me up at 5 in the morning.

I know.

You paused and smiled. He was very observant..

Question is, why are YOU up?

You now I was up all night in the studio….

With D.

He’s passed out on the couch, right?

You know whattup, lol.

Anyway. I thot I’d wish you a Merry Christmas.

You were rolling laughing at his spelling, but quiet so as not to wake your mother.

Merry Christmas. I thought you were trying to sext me or sum...

Holly! I’m surprised at you! the holiday is pure and baby Jesus would not want you to…

You stared at your screen waiting to see the rest of the text when your phone rang.

Then you stared at the notification that Rafa was calling you. At least he wasn’t facetiming you. You pressed accept.

“Yo. What up?”

Shit. Rafael’s voice was a crackly, moany, early morning sexy rasp that you didn’t know you needed in your life. You’d had the pleasure of Rafael Casal, but you’d never woken up with him. You loved his speaking voice, his rapping tone, and his singing voice, but early morning voice was a gift from the devil.

You tried to maintain decorum.

“Hey. Nothing up but me and the birds.”

You chuckled and Rafa had to shift, because your voice was making his dick thicken. Your deeper, sleepy tone gave him visions of you in bed and that’s where he wanted to be right now.

“I’m about to go run.”

“Hmmmmm. So, did you buy new running gear, or are you going to wear something you already have?”

You let out a chuckle, and the visions of your sexy smile was getting Rafa even harder. Damn, what has happening to him?

“Ummm. In fact, I got some new gear. Leopard print performance leggings and a new black running bra. It’s pretty warm here. 60’s. You know. The south.”

Houston weather was seldom cold.

Visions of you in leopard ran through his mind. He didn’t love that everyone wore it, but thinking of you in it had him hot.

“Oooohhh. Leopard. Check. Cool cool cool.” Rafa was rubbing the bulge in his sweats.

“Why are you asking? Didn’t know you were so concerned with fashion.”

“Don’t I always look fly? Of course I care about fashion. And fit. And those leggings be fitting you girl.”

You two laughed at his rap game.

“So, If you think about it… either when you put on your gear, or when you’re running.. Or after when you’re all sweaty, or all of the above, you can snap a pic and send it to me. So I can check out your fly, of course.”

For some reason, listening to Rafa try to convince you to send him a pic got you warm. He was being so basic, but you were under his spell.

“Mmmmmmmhmmmm. For research.”

The smile was evident in your voice.

“Yes. Visual researchhhhhh.”

Rafa’s drawl became more pronounced as he pulled up your IG and the pics you posted. Damn, you were hot.

“Hmmmmmm.” You shifted on your back and stared at your phone. “Well, what about you? What is your fly this morning.

“You know how I do. Comme des Garcons or Nike grey sweat pants, all the same to me.”

Rafa in grey sweatpants was dangerous. The last time he wore them was when he came over and asked you to sit on his face. You’d happily obliged.

“Well, you can also send pictures as well, Mr. Casal. What up?”

Rafa chuckled and you heard movement “Of course. I got you, friend.”

In less than two minutes, your phone pinged. You opened the pic and had to clutch your pearls. It was a crotch pic and Mr. Rafael was very awake in at least one part of his body.

“Well, damn, Rafa. You just went for it, didn’t you? But… thank you. I may utilize that later.”

You wanted more but not facetiming and just listening to his voice was everything.

“Oh?” You heard more rustling. “How so?”

You moved your hand over to your breast unconsciously as you listened to his silky smooth voice.

“I dunno. Maybe stare at that package that I’ve had the pleasure to experience to gain while I’m gaining more pleasure. Didn’t bring my toys, but I have my hands.”

“Fuck, Holly. Well, I’m using my hands, but there is nothing like your little pretty brown hands on my dick. You stroke me so welllll. Fuck.”

Okay, now it was time for you to slip your hand into your panties.

“Rafael Santiago. Are you telling me that you are jacking off? Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Your fingers played in your slit and gathered the considerable wetness and used it to circle your clit.

Rafa listened to you huff and faintly moan and started stroking a little faster. He held his dick up, snapped a pic, and sent it to you, not caring about anything but this feeling right now. You got him so high.

“Damn girl. Got me exposing myself all over the cloud and shit.”

When you opened the picture, you couldn’t help but moan and lick your lips.

“Fuck, fuck me Rafa. That looks so good. I wanna do so many things to you right now.”

“Oh yeah? Where are your hands?”

Shit the gravel in his voice was getting to you. His voice and your imagination, along with these pics were everything.

For him, the way you paused and huffed told him everything he needed to know. Still he asked.

“Where the fuck are your hands at right now, Holly? What are you doing to yourself little girl?”

“Fuck, D-damn Rafa....”

You almost called him Daddy. Shit, would that would be hot.

Rafa stroked his hand up and down his dick, swiping his thumb over the head and collecting the precum that was dribbling out. It kept coming as he listened to your moans and huffs.

“Shit Holly, you gotta know what you’re dong to me. You touching yourself, rubbing your clit?”

You moaned, “Yes,” because as he kept talking, you got closer.

“I wish I was there to do it for you. I’d kiss it, and rub it, and love it, and suck it and bite it.”

“Gotdamn…”

You were outright panting now, the visuals that Rafa’s rhythmic speech was giving was getting you off. Then he groaned.

“Twist those beautiful, delicious nipples for me. I just want the chance to suck them again….”

Your hand moved to obey. You moaned again.

“After I eat you thoroughly the fuck out,” You moaned as Rafa paused for effect. Ever the showman. “And you cum at least once, I will give you this dick.”

“Oh shit.. Rafaaaa!”

“I’m gonna slide it in reallllll slow. I hope you’ll let me give it to you again raw.” You whimpered at the memory. “That was soooo dopeee.”

Rafa’s croon in your ear started the avalanche.

“When I get all up in them guts, I’m gonna bend you in half, like a pretzel, and fuck the shit outta you.”

“Oooooohhhhh!”

Your hand was moving furiously now.

“I like that ushy gushy shit, girl. I’m gonna dig you out so good. You circling that clit fast now? Not as fast and as hard as I’m gonna fuck you next time you let me.”

You were whimpering and moaning and Rafa knew you were close.

“You better not cum until I tell you.”

“Rafa!”

You were on the edge of a great precipice. This man was doing it for you.

“You better…. FUCKING… not!”

Rafa’s tone changed to pure dom and you couldn’t hold it, you made a mess in your childhood bed as your back bowed and your vision went red and your hearing roared.

You moaned like a freight train and tried to keep quiet by dropping your phone and clapping your hand over your mouth.

It took you a few minutes to catch your breath, but you did an grabbed the phone again.

“What happened Holly? Cat get your tongue?”

Rafa sounded different now, more relaxed but awake and veerrrrry congenial.

“You made me drop my phone. Fucker.”

You laughed, still trying to breathe.

Rafa was glad that you probably didn’t hear him moaning like a little bitch. This friends with benefits situation had him sprung. And he didn’t want to lose you because of feelings. He felt euphoric, but fucked.

“Oh, you mean when you came. After I told you not to. Cool. Well, don’t worry about it Holly, it’s Christmas.”

You smiled, relieved. “Yes. And on Christmas you get to cum.”

Rafa laughed. “And on Christmas you get to cum.”

Suddenly, he stopped laughing.

“But just wait until I get your ass alone.” Dom Rafa was back.

Your eyes widened as you considered the possibilities.

“Merry Christmas, Rafa.”

“And a Very Merry Christmas to you, Holly!”

Yoooo! I love me some Holly and Rafa. It was so much fun writing them again! Let me know if you liked it as much as I did.

Tags:

@einfachniemand @sillyteecup @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @elocinnicole @nikole-witha-k @braidedchallah @sebastianabucknettastan @jbrizzywrites @maroonsunrise83 @partypoison00 @curlyhairclub @fanfictionwr1tin @chcblndnrd75 @angelxfics @shadowolf993 @geminixevans @na-nou83 @subwaysurf45 @batboysdoll @kiwisa @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @aliceforbes @photmath @iconicshit @maroonsunrise83 @denisemarieangelina @harrysthiccthighss @simpinforu @sunshinexsin @celestialbeingz @the-1900 @afriendlyblackhottie @olyvoyl

[sarcasticsaffa]

The Curse of the Green Mamba

South Africa House? More like South Africa Kakhuis.

I have unsuccessfully attempted to renew my South African passport for the last year. Yesterday was another failed mission. I cannot put in words how gatvol I truly am of this struggle. Besides making me jump through hoops like a trick pony, has anyone been to the London embassy lately? Like, can we take a minute to just discuss the absolute shitshow that is South Africa House in Whitehall, London?

As expected, the embassy runs on Africa time. Granted, if people got their forms filled in and sorted like the email instruction says when you receive your appointment confirmation, it would probably go quicker. We opted to arrive early and queued until they opened. So proudly South African, that we continue with the tradition of queueing outside Home Affairs in foreign countries. I want my Noddy badge! When the gates to hell finally opened, the man at the door was already grumpy. Someone had rammed a burning carrot so far up his arse, that we could see the doos vibes coming off of him from the back of the queue. Shame.

Those lucky souls that had appointments at nine o’clock, were admitted into the inferno and the rest of us lesser mortals had to wait another twenty minutes. Now, I had this appointment booked for ten in the morning, but by the time we made it into the dump, they were still busy with the first two appointments. We were in for a long wait… The burning carrot security oom moaned at us to wear face masks in the building, but to him I would like to say this, covering your mouth and not your nose with your handmade mask is like wearing a condom over your balls and not your dick. If you want to enforce a rule, lead by example! Also, everyone in attendance was polite and friendly – I used my nicest Afrikaans reserved only for the dominee – was it really necessary to be a grumpy old doos and treat us like we pissed on your Ouma Beskuit? Like, who lit the fuse on your tampon? Life is not that kak, for realsies. Although you work for Home Affairs, so it probably is that kak. Sorry, né.

 I called the place a dump earlier and oh boy it was. The walls obviously hadn’t seen a lick of paint since 1910 and it was so dirty, I feel like I had walked back into a government building in South Africa itself. The chairs, that looked like they had been sourced from decommissioned tube carriages, were filthy and stained with only God knows what. Sitting on them, all I could think was that I was going to need a Dettol soak and my clothes were getting burned in a dumpster fire. Not sure when the floor last saw a broom, or a mop for that matter. Do you think they burned their cleaner for witchcraft? It’s the only plausible explanation I could come up with.

The building is starting to fall apart!

I think the funniest was the photos of Uncle Cyril and company. The frames were cheap. Wilko “three for the price of two” cheap. Uncle Cyril, have you seen your pic that adorns the shabby walls of South Africa house? It is such a kak kiekie of you. The brown backdrop is the same colour as my dog’s morning ablutions. Wonder who thought that was a good idea? They could have at least taken a better photo of you and used the South African coat of arms and flag as part of the background. Like the Americans do. Naledi! What the was your stylist thinking?! No sweetie darling, that blouse you are wearing is such an unfortunate colour. It makes you look like a cleaning lady with an employee of the month photo on the wall next to Uncle Cyril. You need to fire that stylist…

I had to sneakily take this photo to show you all what I meant. 

All in all, it was a totally shit experience. If I had to rate it, I would give it zero stars – do not recommend. Sadly, I will need to make the pilgrimage back to this den of dysfunction for another attempt at renewing the Green Mamba. Anyone have a hazmat suit I could borrow?

[erodasfishtacos]

Omfg please I literally can’t even with the audacity men have 🤦‍♀️a dude just added me on snap and was like all nice and ‘hey how are you’ and then he asked me what my plans were for the rest of the evening (it’s like 8 o’clock where I am) and I said nothing really just scrolling the socials and this man has the AUDACITY TO SEND ME A FUCKING DICK PIC ASKING IF I WANT A CHANGE OF FUCKING SCENERY!! So I left him on read and he’s like oh tough crowd and I said well wtf am I meant to say to an unsolicited dick pic? And he just says I think I got my answer 🤦‍♀️ at this point I’m ready to just be a lesbian for fuck sake

As Harry Styles say

[hood-ex]

i need a pic of dick with a five o’clock shadow sitting around in his boxers and eating a bowl of cereal. should i even venture to say boxers and socks? yes, yes. but his socks should be mismatched. and also his hair should look disheveled, but in a sexy way, ya feel? almost as if he just stepped outta the shower, toweled it dry, and called it a day. 

and he should have cute lil bandaids wrapped around his fingers as if he’s fuckin juni from spy kids. and maybe the bandaids have lil robin symbols on them bc damian gave them to him for his bday. you bet your ass dick would be wearing them. 

he’d either be sitting on the kitchen counter with his legs dangling bc why the fuck not it’s his own damn house or he’d be all scrunched up on his computer chair. no in-between bc the kitchen table and the couch do not fit the aesthetic i’m trying to paint here, mkay? 

[p-eppermintea]

love is a drug (but it never comes with a warning)

AO3 LINK

Pairing: Erwin Smith / Levi Ackerman (Eruri) Characters: Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Isabel Magnolia, Farlan Church Rating: Explicit Warnings: No warnings apply Word Count: 13186 Tags: Sexual Content, Hook-up to Lovers, Pining, Angst, Croissant the cat, Love Confessions, Christmas, Yes I wrote the Christmas scenes in June

Excerpt / Summary:

So, here’s the thing. Levi really isn’t the type of person who invites strangers over for sex. Sure, he had a couple of hook-ups, quick fumbles, and one-night stands after nights out in his younger years – but that’s about the extent of it.

--

NOTE: I started this in October and very slowly finished it over the past 8-ish months. Quality control courtesy of ADHD and my inability to force myself to edit, mixed with my impatience to post. Sorry about mistakes!

So, here’s the thing.

Levi really isn’t the type of person who invites strangers over for sex. Sure, he had a couple of hook-ups, quick fumbles, and one-night stands after nights out in his younger years – but that’s about the extent of it.

The older he gets, the less he cares about sex. He’s slowly paying off a mortgage, has hobbies and a good job and a couple of even better friends. Meeting people just seems like a waste of time, and sex is just so unnecessary and messy.

But after almost two years of celibacy and with the house to himself for the weekend, he caves and downloads Grindr. He pours himself a glass of wine, downs it, and meanders around the house for a little bit. He feeds his cat. Pours himself another glass of wine. Polishes his already meticulously clean coffee table. He finally opens the app properly.

Making a profile doesn’t take him too long, and most of that time is taken up by choosing a profile picture. He settles on the gym photo he sent to Isabel a week earlier. He doesn’t really take a lot of photos of himself either, so it’s not exactly hard for him to choose.

Levi takes one look at the array of profiles before he sighs heavily and throws his phone to the other side of the couch. This is so stupid.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. He’s thirty, for fuck’s sake. He’s gone through all of the stupid hormonal-fuelled confusion from his teen and early adult years, and he hasn’t been self-conscious about himself for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t even get nervous before big presentations. So why is this making his heart race and his palms sweat?

He sits and finishes his drink slowly, listening as his phone buzzes every now and then in front of him.

About twenty minutes pass before he eventually gives in and grabs his phone again.

Three messages. Alright, not bad. He can deal with three messages.

They aren’t really anything special. It’s about what Levi expected; “Top or bottom?”, “Come here often?”. And, of course, a dick pic straight away. Levi scoffs at that last one. It’s an okay photo, he supposes. It’s a just dick, though, there isn’t really much more to it. He’s worth more than some low-effort and unsolicited dick pic, though, so the message is ultimately ignored.

He’s actually a little disappointed by the choices. Maybe he’s a bit too old for this, but it just seems like people have gotten lazy when it comes to looking for hookups. They could’ve at least put some effort into their first messages, for fuck’s sake.

Levi shoots a lazy reply of “Switch” to the first guy. He looks okay in his profile picture. Attractive, but with soft features and the build of a particularly thin tree. He doesn’t really find himself gravitating towards that type of man too often.

Mr. Cheesy-Pick-Up-Line is more his type. Tall, wide shoulders, chiselled, and downright handsome. Erwin, thirty-five. A little bit closer to his age, too.

Too bad his first message is so lame.

Erwin: Come here often?

Levi: What is this, the nineties? Does that even ever work?

Levi: I just downloaded this.

Erwin: Not yet, but I’ve got my fingers crossed! What brings you here?

Levi: Looking for a hook-up, I guess.

Erwin: Any luck?

Levi: Not yet. Unless one mediocre dick pic counts.

Erwin: Unfortunate. I find that it’s quite rare to find a decent one. I could definitely send a much better one

Erwin: That was a joke. I think. Unless…?

This guy is so lame.

Levi: Ha. Ha. Ha. Hilarious.

He chews on his lip, contemplating. He flicks off the lid of the wine bottle and takes a swig. Fuck it. He might as well throw himself right in the deep end and get it over with.

Levi: Alright then. I’ll warn you though, I’m a tough crowd to impress.

And, well.

It’s something, alright. He was right, at least – it is much better. Warm early-morning lighting, with soft shadows that define the sharp planes of his hips. He’s kneeling on a bed, hard and curved in his hand, and okay. Levi’s stomach twists deliciously.

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it.

Levi: When can you come over?

--

When turns out to be right this minute.

Levi chews on his fingernails for the entire forty minutes it takes for Erwin to get to his house.

It’s not until he hears a car door slamming closed out on his driveway that it finally sets in. He’s known this guy for approximately… What, an hour now? And he’s coming over. To his house. At damn near ten o’clock at night.

Oh God, what if he’s a total catfish. Or a serial killer?

By the time there’s a knock at the door, Levi still hasn’t decided whether or not he can actually go through with it. He spends way too long pacing by the door and swearing to himself under his breath. He picks up his cat, and puts her down, and then picks her up again, before finally opening the door.

Erwin is standing in front of him, way taller and way more handsome than his photo looked. “Levi?”

The cat squirms in his arms. “Um.” Levi swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Yeah, that’s me.” He steps aside and gestures inside, inviting him in.

Erwin steps inside, moving slowly and smiling kindly at Levi on his way past. “Cute cat,” he comments while Levi is bumping the door closed with his hip. He steps closer – way too close – and immediately starts rubbing behind her ears.

“Her name is Croissant,” Levi mumbles. She’s a little sand-coloured thing, with big green eyes and a fluffy tail. The name suits her. “She’s my housemate’s cat.”

Erwin laughs. ��Nice to meet you, Croissant.” He’s leaning down and cooing over her, and she’s purring. That little shit, who almost never purrs when Levi is petting her, is actually purring.

Before Levi can get too annoyed that Erwin is giving the cat more attention, Erwin straightens up and looks at Levi with a bright grin. “How shall we do this, then?” he asks. “Would you feel more comfortable if we sit down and talk first, or just get into it?”

Levi contemplates for a moment, Croissant squirming in his arms until she breaks free from his hold and dashes off into the kitchen. It’s not like they’re on a date or anything, so getting to know each other first seems a little pointless to him. “What do you usually do?”

“I don’t do this too often, but when I do, I find it easier to start slow.” He’s already pretty close, but he steps forwards, moving more and more into Levi’s space. They’re basically breathing in each other’s mouths. Levi wets his dry as fuck lips and shuffles nervously. “Is this okay?”

Levi nods, and Erwin’s hand starts travelling lightly up his arm. His body jerks automatically in response, but he quickly relaxes. His hand eventually stops on Levi’s elbow, and he leans even closer. “Tell me when to stop,” he mumbles.

Erwin is taking his sweet time, studying Levi’s face. He squirms under his steely blue gaze. The anticipation is fucking killing him. It’s almost unbearable.

So Levi kisses Erwin first. He raises up onto the tips of his toes and smashes their lips together, throwing his arms up around Erwin’s neck, slow be damned.

It’s good, as far as first kisses go. Erwin is soft and tender, but there’s this underlying dominance to him. He allows Erwin to kiss his way into his mouth, his hands sliding up Levi’s arms and finding their way onto his cheeks.

They move slowly to the living room, hands and mouths roaming carelessly, and clothes slowly finding themselves strewn out on the floor. They fall onto the couch together, Erwin pulling Levi’s shirt off over his head and dropping it onto the floor next to them. Levi shudders at the sight of clothes discarded on the floor haphazardly, but then Erwin is kissing him again, and pushing him down into the couch cushions, and climbing on top of him, and suddenly he just doesn’t mind.

“Do you mind if I mark you?” Erwin asks, looking down at Levi with narrow eyes.

Levi’s breath catches in his throat, and he shakes his head quickly. Erwin moves downwards, and Levi’s head immediately falls back to expose his neck, his eyes rolling back when Erwin’s lips attach to his skin.

Part of Levi wants to roll Erwin over and make him beg – he usually takes on a more dominant role during sex. But they’ve only been making out for about ten minutes, and Levi just wants to lay there and let Erwin do whatever he wants to him, as many times as he wants. Levi groans quietly as Erwin digs his teeth into his skin and sucks hard.

They just seem to click.

--

Afterwards, when they’re both sweaty and exhausted and very much satisfied, Levi makes Erwin a cup of tea, and they sit in the kitchen and drink in silence.

After Levi’s usual hook-ups, he usually either kicks the guy out, or passes out immediately afterwards and pretends to still be asleep in the morning as he sneaks out, never to be seen again. He doesn’t have time for casual conversation with random guys from clubs.

This time feels different – he actually kind of likes Erwin. He’s definitely the best sex he’s ever had, that’s for sure. He really has no idea what to say, though.

Croissant is sitting in the doorway, eyeing them both suspiciously. Levi can feel her judging them.

“So,” Erwin starts, setting his cup down. “What happens now?”

“I don’t know,” Levi admits. He takes a sip of his tea. “You do this more than I do, you tell me.”

“I mean… unless you’d like me to go, perhaps we could put on a movie?” Erwin’s eyebrows wriggle suggestively. It’s stupid, and lame, and annoyingly cute. “And not watch it?”

And that’s how they find themselves back on Levi’s couch, making out lazily with some shitty rom-com that Erwin chose playing on the TV.

Erwin is exactly the right size for Levi to be far too comfortable lying on top of him. He’s big enough to wrap himself almost completely around Levi’s body. He feels oddly secure.

He’s also the perfect size, it seems, for Croissant to insert herself directly in-between them, pushing her little head between the two of them and lying down directly on Erwin’s chest. She starts purring immediately, flexing her claws in Erwin’s shirt, and flicking Levi with her tail.

“Oh wow,” Levi says, sitting up and crossing his arms. “Are you some kind of cat hypnotist or something?”

Erwin laughs, scratching Croissant behind the ears. “I guess she just likes me.”

Levi scoffs. “The little bitch doesn’t like anyone except my dumbshit housemate,” he replies. “She doesn’t even like me that much.”

“That’s surprising, you’re very pleasant,” Erwin replies, smiling cheekily. The joke is obvious behind his eyes and toothy smile.

“If my stupid cat wasn’t between us right now, I’d kick your ass.”

Erwin laughs, a bright and hearty sound that rumbles deep in his chest and startles Croissant. She merely looks at him in alarm for a moment, and then goes back to purring. He continues to fuss over her, making little kissy faces and squishing her face delicately in his hands. “You are so cute,” he coos, wrapping his arms around her gently and pulling her closer to his chest.

All Levi can really do is just watch as his Grindr hook-up, still in just his underwear and a T-shirt, gives his cat more attention than him. He can’t help but smile a little bit to himself, though, as he watches Erwin interacting with Croissant. It’s actually pretty endearing, in a way.

“I think someone’s in love,” Levi comments. He watches for a little bit longer, before his erection starts to go down and he gets a little too impatient. “Okay, time’s up. Shove her off and pay attention to me again.”

Erwin rubs his nose lovingly against Croissant’s forehead and picks her up, putting her down on the carpet. She looks disappointed, but opts for staring up at them instead of jumping up again. He looks back up at Levi and wets his lips, pulling him down with a large hand on the back of his neck.

It’s not until after half a movie, two more rounds, and a few episodes of Friends later, that Erwin yawns loudly, stretching his arms over his head.

“It’s late,” Levi observes. The clock above the TV reads somewhere after 2 AM. He really wasn’t intending for Erwin to stay for so long, but part of him really didn’t want him to leave. If anyone asks him, he’ll probably say that hormones were compelling him to let Erwin stay – it has been a while since he’s had any kind of sex, after all. But the truth is that he actually just really likes spending time with him.

“Yeah,” Erwin replies slowly.

“You’re probably too tired to drive home.”

“I guess I am, yeah.” Erwin’s eyebrow rises, waiting.

Levi looks down at his hands, scraping at an invisible speck on his thumbnail. “So maybe you should stay for the night. Y’know. So you don’t fall asleep at the wheel and die.”

Erwin huffs out a laugh. “That sounds good to me.”

Levi stands up, rubbing at his tired eyes with his sleeve. He reaches out his hand sheepishly, and leads Erwin into his bedroom – Croissant following close by.

“Just don’t leave in the middle of the night and steal my shit,” Levi grumbles. “I’ll know.”

--

When Levi wakes up at 9 AM in the morning (which is uncharacteristically late for him), he’s almost shocked that Erwin is still in the bed with him. For some reason, he kind of expected him to get up and disappear during the night. He doesn’t seem like the type, but there’s always the possibility. And of course, Croissant is curled up on the pillow, right next to his head, and snoring quietly.

He sits up in bed and watches them for a little bit. While Croissant is a bit of a cuddle bug sometimes, she’s never really connected with anyone as quickly as she seems to be connecting with Erwin. Even when Isabel brought her home as a rescue kitten – it took her a couple of months to get to this point. What’s so special about Erwin, then?

Levi is almost tempted to take a photo of the two for Isabel, but he really doesn’t want to be that guy who takes weird creepy photos of his hook-ups. He also doesn’t even want to think about all the questions and comments she’ll have for him. Knowing her, she’d be on the first train back, just to get a glimpse at Erwin. No, it’s probably better he keeps this to himself. She’ll inevitably find out eventually, though.

Erwin shifts and groans in his sleep, and Levi startles, whipping his head the other way. He quietly crawls out of bed and retreats into his en suite, closing the door carefully behind him. He busies himself with brushing his teeth, keeping an ear out in case Erwin stirs more.

He has no idea what he’s going to do when Erwin wakes up. He supposes he should make him breakfast and tea, and then what? Would it be rude to ask him to leave after that? He could always use work as an excuse if he needs to.

Levi sits on the side of the bathtub for a little bit, eyeing the spiderweb in the corner of his ceiling with disgust. It’s been there for a few weeks, but he doesn’t have the heart to get rid of it while there’s a spider still living there. After all, she keeps the flies out.

He sighs loudly and gets up, leaving the bathroom quietly. Erwin is sitting up in bed with Croissant, stroking her back quietly. Unfazed by Levi’s re-entrance, she rolls over onto her back, purring loudly as Erwin rubs her belly.

“Wow, you have her so whipped,” Levi observes.

Erwin smiles up at Levi. “I guess I just have the magic touch or something.”

Levi lingers in the doorway, shuffling his feet. He watches as Erwin leans over and presses his face into Croissant’s chest, scratching her cheeks. It’s stupidly cute, and Levi hates it.

“Um, so,” Levi starts. “Sleep well?” He cringes. Small talk really isn’t his thing, obviously.

Erwin sits up, smiling handsomely up at Levi. “I did, thank you.”

Levi sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to Croissant and softly petting her head. She looks up at him, looking downright offended that he’d even dare to look at her right now. In one swift motion, she flips over and bolts out of the room, sprinting down the hallway at full speed.

They both sit in silence, avoiding eye contact like the plague. Or, at least Levi avoids it. When he finally looks up at Erwin, he’s looking right back at him. His cheeks turn hot.

It’s not long until Erwin is pushing him down into the mattress and slowly kissing his way down Levi’s chest. His mouth is hot and wet when he takes him all the way down.

--

Levi makes both of them breakfast and they eat quietly in the kitchen, exchanging casual small talk every now and then. Erwin is a sous chef. He has no siblings, both of his parents are dead, and he lives alone. He likes dogs more than cats, but cats are cool, too.

They both have such regular, boring lives. No wonder Erwin is so freaky in bed.

Erwin puts his empty teacup down carefully and stretches, groaning loudly as he does. “I have to go,” he starts. Levi deflates a little, strangely disappointed. Erwin continues, “I’d really like to see you again, though.”

“I’d like that too.”

They say an awkward goodbye to each other at the door. Levi gives Erwin his phone number with a shy, “Call me whenever,” and watches as Erwin gets in his car and drives away.

Croissant sits by the door for most of the day.

--

Levi: I think you broke my cat.

Erwin: Oh?

The image Levi attaches is of Croissant, sleeping right next to the front door.

Levi: She’s been here since you left yesterday.

Erwin: I guess she misses me!

He also replies with a dorky laughing emote, and seriously Levi is so close to just blocking him. What is he, eighty-five?

Levi: My housemate came home, and the cat barely even looked at her. Usually, you can’t keep them away from each other.

Erwin: Oops! :)

Levi: She might get too lovesick, so you might have to come over again soon, maybe.

Levi physically cringes after hitting send on that one. This sort of weird flirting thing is new to him, but he quite likes Erwin. He never knew how enjoyable slightly awkward non-conversations and really good sex could actually be. It’s enjoyable enough to actually let himself talk like this, he supposes.

Erwin: Just tell me when

--

When Erwin comes over for the second time that Tuesday afternoon, he immediately scoops Croissant up into his arms and rocks her in his arms, pressing little kisses onto her forehead. She squirms in his arms until he loosens his grip and climbs up onto his shoulders.

Isabel slides up next to Levi, eyeing them both curiously. “Wow, I thought he was joking,” she comments, eyes wide. “But there she is, happy as a peach.”

They go through the weird introductory stage as fast as they can. Luckily, Isabel and Erwin are both rays of fucking sunshine, so they get along really easily, readily going into a full conversation about Croissant while Levi stands there awkwardly. They don’t talk for too long – Croissant is far too insistent on Erwin’s full attention for that – and soon move to the kitchen. The plan is for Erwin to cook dinner, Isabel to “have a nosy at her big bro’s new man” (her words), and Levi to suffer eternally until she finally leaves them alone.

Isabel sits herself down on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, resting her chin in her hands and looking between Levi and Erwin. She’s smiling uncontrollably at them, and it’s seriously creeping Levi out. She makes a happy little noise when Erwin sets Croissant down in her lap. Surprisingly, she settles right down, staring back at Erwin with big eyes.

Isabel and Erwin get back into their easy conversation, with Levi chiming in every now and then, while Erwin gets to work. He’s making vegan spaghetti and meatballs, as per Isabel’s request. Levi and Isabel half-play Scrabble while they wait, and Croissant eventually jumps down from her lap in favour of following Erwin around the kitchen – nearly tripping him up every five minutes.

It’s getting dark outside by the time Erwin finishes. Levi pours them all a glass of wine each, and they eat at the dining table.

Surprisingly to himself, Levi finds himself really enjoying himself. Erwin and Isabel seem to get along really well, which is good. He probably wouldn’t be able to see him anymore if she didn’t like him. It’s not exactly hard to get Isabel to like you, so if she doesn’t like someone, there must really be something wrong with them – especially if they’re willing to make dinner. And enough for leftovers, at that.

“God, you should cook for us every day,” Isabel groans, shoving her clear plate forwards. “I will give you Levi’s entire paycheque to be the head chef at Casa de Levi and Isabel.”

Erwin laughs, scratching his neck and blushing bashfully. “Oh, well…” he trails off, glancing at Levi, who just shrugs. “In that case, I’d quit my job in a heartbeat. I’ll even cook dinners for little Croissant here.” He looks down at her, where she insisted on curling up on his lap while they ate. She’s usually not allowed to be at the dinner table while they eat, but… well, Levi couldn’t exactly say no to all three of them, could he?

Isabel claps her hands together and looks at Levi with mock-pleading eyes, jutting out her bottom lip. “Oh please, Levi, can we keep him?”

Levi raises an eyebrow and pretends to think about it for a moment. He might as well play along. “I guess so, but only if you promise to clean up after him.”

Next to him, Erwin chuckles quietly. He reaches over subtly and places a hand on Levi’s knee under the table. Levi nearly jumps out of his skin, but manages to disguise it as shifting in his seat. His hand shifts, moving upwards slowly and eventually settling again high up on his thigh. When he glances at Erwin, all he gets is a small, polite smile.

Isabel grins hugely at Erwin, leaning forwards. “Looks like you’re staying here forever, then.”

“You’ll have to help me pack a bag,” he counters, somehow smiling back with the same intensity as Isabel. All while slowly sliding his hand between Levi’s thighs. When he opens his legs a little bit more, almost instinctively, Erwin’s hand moves further forwards. He rubs Levi through his jeans slowly, and Levi feels himself hardening, and okay, okay, okay.

Levi jumps up, completely startling Croissant and causing her to wriggle off of Erwin’s lap and shoot off out of the kitchen. “I’ll clean up,” he blurts out. He busies himself with taking all of the plates and empty wine glasses to the sink. Erwin looks up at Levi as he takes his plate, one eyebrow raised in concern. He smiles minutely, just to assure him that everything’s okay.

He cleans the dishes as quickly as he can manage whilst still being as meticulous as he usually is, and Erwin and Isabel continue their casual conversation quietly amongst themselves. He dries off his hands and turns around, tossing the handtowel at Isabel’s head. “Alright, fuck off now, it’s my turn.”

Isabel stands up abruptly and throws the towel back at him, missing completely. She’s smiling. “Alright, Mr. Grumpy Bones, I’m going!” She turns to Erwin on her way out and gives a little wave. “It was nice to meet you, I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, you too!”

She turns back just before she leaves the room and stares Levi down, her eyes saying, “Don’t you dare fuck in the kitchen,” in every way.

Levi huffs and slowly walks towards Erwin, waiting until he hears Isabel close her bedroom door behind her until he finally throws one leg over Erwin’s legs and climbs into his lap. “That was pretty mean,” he tells him, quiet and under his breath. He grazes his lips lightly against Erwin’s cheek, feeling him shudder.

“What was?” Erwin asks, smirking slyly.

“You know.” He nudges Erwin’s lips gently; not kissing him yet, but teasing. He puts a hand on Erwin’s cheek, using his thumb to part his lips and open up his mouth, and Erwin chases Levi’s tongue with his own.

They finally kiss, Erwin sighing contently and wrapping his arms perfectly around Levi’s waist. “Which one’s your bedroom again?” Erwin’s words come out as a whisper against Levi’s lips. They kiss again, and Erwin pulls Levi even closer, their chests pressing together. He slides his arms down and heaves both him and Levi up in one movement.

Levi’s legs wrap around Erwin’s waist, clinging to him like his life depends on it. “First door on the left down the corridor, make it quick.”

--

They have their first kind-of-but-really-not date on the following Friday.

It starts with Isabel harassing Levi from the second he gets home from work about how they “absolutely must go out tonight!” As much as he hates to admit it, Levi has never really been able to say no to her – and she knows it, too. That’s why there are photos of them all over the house, and a cat called Croissant.

Levi plays along and protests weakly for all of two minutes before giving in; she really does have him wrapped around her little finger. He feigns annoyance as he trudges to the bathroom to shower, just for the drama of it all. Truth is, they haven’t really had a night out together for a while. She’s been working pretty hard recently, and she deserves to have a nice time.

Levi showers as quickly and as thoroughly as he can manage without Isabel knocking the door down. He barely gets his underwear on before she’s barging into his bedroom and insisting that he dress up, immediately digging through his wardrobe to find him a shirt. She throws a dark blue button-down with white flowers to him – a shirt that she had gifted to him a few months ago after receiving her first paycheque. Levi isn’t really a flowers person at all, but it’s his favourite shirt. He’s allowed to be a sentimental bitch every once and a while.

Isabel pretty much forces him into a pair of inappropriately tight dress pants and pats him sweetly on the cheek. “So handsome!”

He shrugs her off of him, his cheeks growing warm. “Yeah yeah, get ready, and let’s fuckin’ go.”

She orders them both an Uber into the city – with one stop on the way to pick Farlan up – and walks them so quickly to the bar that she’s practically running. They end up in a fancy-looking underground cocktail lounge on the main street. It’s not quite dark out yet, and the clouds are grey and dense with rain. It had rained for most of the day already, but it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. Inside, there’s dim, warm lighting from the little chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, swing music playing on the speakers, and a lit fireplace. The whole nine yards.

They’re escorted to a small booth in the corner and given a couple of food and drink menus. Farlan and Levi go into a conversation about their respective days at work while Isabel immediately snatches up the menus and pours over them.

It’s been far too long since Levi and Farlan last caught up properly, but they fly back into comfortable conversation with ease. The three of them have a lot to talk about, especially after a couple of drinks each.

Levi gets up after a while to use the bathroom, slash buy the next round, slash flirt awkwardly with the stupidly cute bartender while he makes their drinks. When he walks back to their table, there are noticeably a couple more strawberries in the glasses than usual. He supposes that’s all he’ll get from his weird flirty banter, but he’s okay with that. He admires the professionality more than he cares for getting his number.

He barely sits back down and starts up the conversation again before Isabel gasps loudly, squirming in her seat. “Erwin’s here!” she squeaks, far too loudly, and pointing at the other side of the restaurant.

And yep. There he is. Of course, she invited him.

Levi hides behind his drink and watches as Erwin rushes over, all handsome and tall and button-up shirt tucked in with the sleeves rolled up and a stupid navy tie, and who even gave him the right to look that good?

“God, sorry I’m late,” Erwin says hurriedly. “We were late with closing, and then I got stuck in some traffic, and then I had to go home and change, and –”

Isabel cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t worry about it!” She stands up from her seat next to Levi and pats the now-vacant chair. “Sit! I’ll get you a drink – the espresso martinis here are so good.”

She runs off to the bar before Erwin can get another word in, let alone protest to her spending money on him.

There’s a long beat of weird, awkward silence before Farlan sticks his hand out, switching from awkward to his usual friendly self in a split second. “You’re Erwin, then,” he remarks.

Erwin shakes Farlan’s hand. “And you must be Farlan,” he counters. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Isabel.”

“Likewise,” Farlan responds, not without taking a not-so-subtle glance at Levi and raising his eyebrows suggestively. It takes every bit of strength in Levi’s being not to throw his drink straight at him. Instead, he just chews on his flimsy paper straw and grunts in acknowledgement.

“I think you just might be Isabel’s new favourite person,” Farlan continues. “She’s already completely smitten.”

Right on cue, Isabel gently places two espresso martinis down onto the table, before sitting down heavily herself next to Farlan. “If you and Levi split up, I’m totally swooping in and making you my housewife,” she jokes. “I do love some good home cooking.”

Erwin laughs nervously and sips his drink. “Well, I mean… There isn’t really anything to split up,” he adds in, glancing warily at Levi. “So… I suppose I could be your housewife whenever, then.”

All Levi can do is stare down into his drink and fidget with his hands. It is true that they aren’t actually together, but there’s something about the way Erwin said it, just like that - and he sounded so sure about it. For some reason, it hurt.

Levi tries so hard not to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Everyone who’s known him for more than a minute knows that he’d rather shove his head into a spider web than show his emotions, but that hit him differently for some reason. Perhaps it’s just the fact that he was always under the impression that there was something to split up – they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a while – longer than anyone has ever wanted to be around Levi for, other than Isabel and Farlan. Does Erwin actually think that way, or is he saying it because he thinks that’s what Levi thinks?

The thought of that, and coupled with the fact that Isabel didn’t even mention that he was coming, sends his brain into overload. He listens to Isabel and Farlan continue to talk at Erwin, until the staticky feeling in his brain starts to become too much and he downs the rest of his drink in one go. “Excuse me,” he says, getting up on wobbly legs and high tailing it to the bathroom as fast as he can.

He washes his hands once. And again. And then once more, for his own peace of mind.

Levi sighs and stares at himself in the mirror – at his tired, sunken-in eyes; the dryness of his lips and the paleness of his skin; his messy, dark hair. Every part of his brain is screaming at him. That he’s not good enough for Erwin; that he’s just going to leave him at the first chance he gets. It shouldn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, just let it play out. His throat is dry, but he swallows down his anxiety and turns the tap on again, frantically dispensing soap onto his hand.

Two men enter the bathroom, chatting obnoxiously loudly with each other, and Levi uses it as an opportunity to escape back to their table. Nobody says anything, thank God¸ but Isabel slowly pushes a pink cocktail in a jar towards him. She gives him her best puppy-dog eyes, and he forgives her instantly. Of course he does.

His heartbeat thumps loudly in his ears as he sits down next to Erwin. He’s good at acting natural, so he warily hooks his foot around Erwin’s calf and puts a hand down on his thigh. He gets a warm smile in return, and Erwin leans in closer.

“So… Isabel didn’t mention that I was coming, then,” Erwin starts, quietly.

“No, she didn’t.”

“She said that she’s sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he offers.

Levi sighs. “Yeah, I know she is. She just got a bit carried away.”

Erwin raises an eyebrow at him. “There’s not much she can’t get away with with you, huh?” He sounds surprised, as if he hasn’t been in the same room as both of them at once. It’s laughably obvious how lenient Levi is with Isabel. She could come home with a whole litter of kittens, and he’d let her keep all of them if it would make her happy.

Of course, he wouldn’t actually tell her that, because she’d probably come home with a box full of cats the next day. But the sentiment is still there.

Levi shrugs passively. “She’s like a little sister to me,” he explains. “It’d be very un-big-brotherly of me to not let her get away with everything.”

That seems to make Erwin smile. “That’s really sweet.”

They sip their drinks together, in a silence that’s comfortable but still so painfully awkward.

Across the table, Isabel and Farlan are arguing over a basket of sweet potato fries – Farlan keeps stealing all of the crispy ones before Isabel can even look at them, how dare he. They’re both laughing about it, but Levi really wouldn’t be surprised if Isabel jumped over the table and started clawing at him.

Levi stays mostly quiet for the next hour or so, only chiming in on conversation every now and then. He just sits and sips on cocktail after cocktail, sinking into a fuzzy haze. By the time everyone starts to get ready to leave, his cheeks are numb, and it takes him a good few seconds to stand up on his shaky legs.

“We should head home before I spend all of my money,” Isabel sighs, pulling her coat over her shoulders.

Erwin slowly stands up and looks around at them, unsure what to do with himself. Isabel hooks her arm around Erwin’s and pulls herself close to his side.

“Come back to ours,” she says, looking up at him. “I have some wine left, and you can stay the night.” She turns to Levi. God, she knows he can’t resist her stupid puppy-dog eyes. “Right?”

Levi shrugs, acting as nonchalant as he can. “Sounds good.”

Erwin smiles, “Sounds good to me, too.”

--

It’s not long until Isabel is wine-drunk and singing and swaying around the kitchen with Croissant huddled securely to her chest, whilst Levi, Erwin, and Farlan play Uno at the table. It’s definitely not Levi’s game of choice – not by a long shot. He’s unnecessarily competitive and impatient, and everyone knows that when you mix that with Uno, friendships get destroyed and someone ends up crying. He sits there, grumpy as ever and holding about fifteen cards, and glares at Farlan from across the table. He somehow managed to get all of the pick up four and reversal cards, completely fucking Levi over, because he’s a fucking coward who doesn’t even dare target the new guy.

“Fucking hell Is, it’s your turn,” Levi groans, picking up her hand and throwing it at her weakly. The cards flutter down around her and land softly at her feet.

“Noooo, no cards. Time to dance with the baby.” The baby, who is actually a four-year-old adult cat, seems content to just sit in her arms and be swayed.

Erwin looks on with amusement. It’s the first time since they got home that Croissant hasn’t stuck to Erwin like glue. (Although, she did get a bit upset about being stolen from her comfortable perch on his lap.)

“My turn, then!” Farlan says. He’s far too excited, Levi notices. And… yep, another pick up two card. Yet again, Levi doesn’t have anything to refute it with. He grumbles in annoyance as he picks up another two. He’s so getting his ass beaten later.

Next to him, Erwin takes his turn, happily exclaiming, “Uno!” as he sets down a yellow reversal card.

Levi throws his card onto the pile unceremoniously, and then Farlan takes his turn, and ultimately, Erwin is declared the winner.

“Thank fuck that’s over,” Levi hisses, dropping the rest of his cards onto the table. “I forgot that you’re an asshole.”

Farlan laughs happily. “Not my fault you’re bad at Uno.”

“I will punch you, and you know I will,” Levi challenges, standing up. It’s all just casual banter, and they both know that he probably wouldn’t punch Farlan. (Probably.)

“Let’s go, then!” Farlan jumps to his feet, puffing out his chest comically. He moves into an open space and beckons at Levi, planting his feet down firmly on the ground and bracing himself.

Erwin looks alarmed, but he doesn’t say anything. He just watches quietly as Levi lets out a (reasonably volumed) war cry and immediately pounces on Farlan like a cat. Their actual cat squirms out of Isabel’s arms and bolts off out of the kitchen. They wrestle with each other, and it’s like they’re kids again. Except much less messy, and more… two men who are getting way too old for wrestling.

Levi manages to pin Farlan down, jamming his hands under his shirt and wriggling them against his sides. He tickles Farlan until he’s a mess of laughter and surprisingly high-pitched noises, thrashing around and begging him to stop.

“It’s like watching two puppies fight,” Erwin remarks amusedly. He steps back cautiously when Levi’s head whips around to look at him.

“You wanna go too, big boy?”

Erwin raises an eyebrow at him. “You really think you could take me down?” he challenges. He thinks for a second before adding a wary sounding, “Short stuff?”

Isabel and Farlan gasp dramatically. “You didn’t,” Isabel laughed.

Levi gets up rather ungracefully and starts towards Erwin, flipping his hair out of his face and cracking his knuckles. Erwin doesn’t seem to be too worried by his “boy on the streets” intimidation tactic. He seems confident that Levi won’t actually hurt him or anything, but they both know that Levi is stronger than he looks.

Levi is also a lot quicker than he looks, too, and he manages to dodge around Erwin and jump up onto his back. He uses all of his weight to clumsily pull Erwin down onto the ground, rolling him over onto his back and throwing a leg over his body to straddle him. Isabel cheers for him enthusiastically. Even though Erwin’s tipsy state makes it a lot easier to take him down, he still huffs in triumph at his win.

“I wasn’t expecting you to actually be able to do it,” Erwin observes. He subtly places a hand on Levi’s thigh, stroking it gently. “I stand corrected.”

Levi grumbles under his breath nervously, his face warm and flushed. He moves to stand up and Erwin strikes, wrapping his arms around Levi and flipping him over onto the ground. The impact knocks the wind out of Levi’s lungs a little bit, and he gasps for breath.

“You dirty bitch,” Levi hisses, immediately struggling to regain control. Erwin just laughs and sits down heavily on his thighs, restricting his movement.

Erwin shrugs, grabbing Levi’s hands and pinning them down by his head. “You don’t win by playing nice and following rules.”

Levi sticks up his nose at Erwin, giving him his best annoyed face.

All he gets in return is a big grin as Erwin leans down, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “For such an angry little man, you sure are cute,” he points out.

From the kitchen, Farlan fakes gagging sounds. “I’m going to throw up, stop it.” Isabel giggles next to him.

Just to be rude, Erwin leans down and kisses Levi properly, laughing against his mouth. And what kind of person would Levi be if he didn’t kiss him back?

--

It happens slowly, but eventually, Erwin ends up spending most of his time at Levi and Isabel’s place. It started as one or two times a week, but then Levi suggests that it could be nice if Erwin spent a weekend there. After that, his toothbrush starts making an appearance in the bathroom, and Levi finds at least three pairs of his underwear in his wardrobe. They go to work at the same time, Levi comes home, and then he and Croissant just sit and wait for Erwin to come back a couple of hours. Sometimes it feels like years, but he doesn’t think too far into that.

Levi isn’t entirely sure what it is that keeps Erwin coming back. It could be that he gets along with Isabel really well. Both her and Croissant seem to follow him around wherever he goes. He comes home one day to all three of them asleep on the couch, some cheesy TV show playing in the background. He tries not to feel too jealous about their bond, because he and Erwin do still spend plenty of time alone together. But Levi just seems to struggle to connect with people in the same way that Isabel has always been able to, and he’s always been uncomfortably insecure about that.

Awkward lapses in conversation slowly turn into comfortable silences, though, and slowly but surely, it gets easier.

It’s hard for Levi to believe that someone like Erwin could genuinely like him, sometimes. He wouldn’t exactly brand himself as someone who’s easy to tolerate, never mind actually like. But apparently Erwin, who is relentlessly pleasant to be around and far easier to get along with than Levi is himself, really, actually, genuinely likes him.

Levi brushes his teeth and stares at Erwin’s razor, sitting on the side of the sink. It’s just sitting there, like it pays rent or something. And it should annoy him, but it doesn’t. Erwin is very slowly invading his home, his social life, his thoughts. Surprisingly, he’s okay with it. What started out as a hook-up and then really good casual sex is now… a friendship, he guesses. The sex is still good too, which is a bonus.

He sighs and puts his toothbrush back in its holder. What is he turning into?

--

They don’t see each other for about two weeks, making sure to text every now and then and communicate through Isabel. Even Levi will admit that it gets a little sad around the house without Erwin around. Croissant goes all around the house trying to find him, and Levi feels bad enough for her that he lets her sleep in his bed for a couple of nights.

Levi comes home on Thursday night from what is turning out to be his longest and most exhausting week in a long time. He fully intends on just lying on the kitchen floor with his cat for the next few hours and disintegrating into a pile of sand. He groans, hanging his work bag up on the hook by the front door, and heads towards the kitchen. The smell of sautéing onions gets stronger the closer he gets, accompanied by some faint pop song on the radio. “God, Isabel, I swear,” he starts, “if another one of the assholes I work with tests me, I’m going to start punching.”

He rounds the corner into the kitchen, only to be met by broad shoulders and blond hair. He blinks at Erwin, standing at the stove with Levi’s stupid old apron on. It’s pink, with big black letters on that front that invite you to kiss the cook. It’s also about two sizes too small on Erwin, and Levi has to work hard to suppress his laughter. “My, Isabel, you sure do look different today, did you cut your hair?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Erwin replies, turning back to the stove. “She let me in and went out for the night.”

“Right,” Levi says, suspicious. He approaches the kitchen island cautiously. Croissant is sitting on one of the stools, flicking her fluffy tail and watching Erwin intently. He sits on the stool next to her and reaches over to pet her head.

“I mean,” Erwin continues, pushing the contents of the pan around slowly, “she told me you were having a bad week and invited me over. Y’know, to help make you feel better.”

While he has never met them, Levi knows that Erwin has friends of his own. Which, as Levi understands it, loosely translates to having something better to do with his time. He doesn’t say that, though, because the last time he brought it up, Erwin just looked really sad and said, “What could be better than this?” Levi felt guilty for a whole week after that.

“I have this whole thing planned for tonight, so you can just go sit down and relax,” Erwin explains, reaching over to turn the kettle on. “I’ll bring a cup of tea out for you.”

Levi starts to protest, but Erwin gives him a look of pure don’t even try that’s somehow scary enough to scare Levi, of all people, into just shutting up and following instructions.

He heads into the living room, taking off his blazer on the way and folding it up neatly, placing it carefully on one of the armchairs. He throws himself down onto the couch, clicking the on button on the TV remote. He doesn’t really indulge himself on TV at all, but flips the channel until he lands on the opening song of this soap opera that he and Isabel started watching ages ago. She slowly lost interest and stopped watching, but Levi still catches up on it every now and then.

Erwin comes in and sets a mug down on the coffee table, taking care to put a coaster down first. Levi watches as he meticulously shifts the coaster around until it’s in the exact spot (more or less) that Levi puts it every time he uses it. He softly kisses Levi on the forehead on his way out, having said nothing about his evening TV viewing choices – Levi sighs in relief at that.

Levi takes a big gulp of his tea and sits back. He swims in and out of consciousness for a little bit, only half paying attention to his show. It’s been such a long and shitty week that he can’t even watch his favourite soap opera for longer than ten minutes without just wanting to fall asleep immediately.

The next thing he knows, Erwin is standing over Levi and gently shaking his shoulder. “Dinner’s ready,” he says softly when Levi opens his eyes.

Levi groans and crawls off of the couch, still half asleep. His soap’s credits sequence is playing on the TV, so at least he hasn’t been asleep for too long. He follows Erwin to the dining room, yawning obnoxiously loudly as he trails slowly behind him. “Thanks for making dinner,” he mumbles. “I’m so exhausted, I probably would’ve forgotten to eat again.”

Erwin laughs quietly. “Yeah, Isabel mentioned that you haven’t been eating properly.”

“Figures,” Levi sighs, sitting down at the table. There’s a big bowl of spaghetti bolognese (with real meat) in front of him, and a big loaf of garlic bread in the middle of the table. “Oh God,” he moans, reaching straight for the end piece of the loaf. “I am so in love.”

He doesn’t even try to back-peddle on that – he just immediately blocks it out of his memories and shoves the entire slice of garlic bread into his mouth at once. Thankfully, Erwin just sits down and doesn’t mention it at all, looking noticeably redder in the face.

Levi scarfs down his dinner in record time, downing an entire glass of water afterwards. “You’re too good at this,” he sighs. “Maybe you should be our live-in chef.”

“I’m sure Isabel will be very happy to hear that,” Erwin replies. “And Croissant, of course. She was absolutely screaming at me when I got here.”

“Stupid fucking cat.” Levi says it with all of the love he can muster. After all, they’re not that dissimilar when it comes to Erwin these days – always wanting to spend time with each other. He almost rolls his eyes at himself – he’s turned into such a fucking sap, it almost makes him sick.

They sit there for a little longer while Erwin finishes his own dinner, keeping up quiet casual conversation. Levi slowly eats away at the rest of the garlic bread, despite having eaten way too much and way too quickly. The bread is just so good, though, that he can’t resist.

Erwin takes their plates to the kitchen and gets to tidying up. Levi rests his chin in his hands and watches him work. He cleans up thoroughly and efficiently, and fuck, Levi should not be as turned on by that as he is – and yet…

Before he fully realises he’s doing it, Levi gets up from his seat and approaches Erwin, turning him around and kissing him straight on the lips. Between the tea, dinner, cleaning up afterwards, and just being here in general – Levi just can’t resist. He has always been independent, never relying on anyone, but letting Erwin look after him for just one night is just so refreshing.

Levi pulls back slowly and watches as Erwin stands there with his eyes still closed and his lips still parted and looking so beautiful; and before he can stop it, a little voice in his mind says, “Fuck, I’m in love with you.”

“Oh,” he says, out loud. It’s the first time he’s ever allowed himself to think about it. It slipped out, really – he’s been in denial about it for months now, shoving any thought even beginning with L deep into a little locked box in his mind.

Erwin opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He replies with a quiet, “Oh?” in return.

Levi laughs nervously, pulling away and backing the fuck up and out of Erwin’s general vicinity as fast as he can. He’s suddenly sweating buckets, and he can feel it sliding down his back – taunting him. “Oh!” he repeats. “Would you just look at the time.” He pulls his sleeve up to reveal his watch-less wrist. “I should go take a shower.”

Erwin looks conflicted for a second, cocking his head to the side like a confused dog, but he suddenly perks up and reaches out to grab Levi’s arm before he can run off to the bathroom. Any reaction to Levi’s sudden weirdness is thrown out the window as a shy smile spreads across his face. “Wait here a minute. I was going to draw you a bath as a nice surprise.” He pauses. “Well, I suppose it’s not much of a surprise now, but…”

“Oh,” Levi says again. He cringes at his overuse of the word and digs his nails into his palm, cursing this ridiculous gay panic. “That sounds good.”

Erwin happily trots off towards the bathroom, leaving Levi to stand around awkwardly in the kitchen. It’s almost too good. Dinner and a bath wouldn’t exactly be the most luxurious thing in the world in a lot of people’s eyes, but the most that Levi has ever gotten in terms of – he guesses – romantic gestures, is a one-night stand ordering food to his house after sex.

Erwin is making things very difficult for him, indeed.

While he’s in the kitchen, Levi busies himself with feeding Croissant for the night. The spoilt little cat meows loudly at his feet as he’s tipping a tin of Fancy Feast onto her plate. He puts the plate down for her and she immediately goes for it, scarfing the entire thing down in record time. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was being starved to death.

Levi squats down next to Croissant and strokes her back while she eats. It must be nice to be a cat, he thinks. Sitting around all day, not having to go to work or file taxes. Or deal with the feelings that you’ve been repressing for your friend-with-benefits, that have now reared their ugly little head despite how far you try to shove them down.

Not that Levi is bitter about it or anything.

Erwin calls out to him from the bathroom, and Levi gives Croissant one final scratch under the chin before he heads off to the bathroom.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t a bathroom filled to the brim with candles, a portable speaker playing quiet classical music, and a bath full of bubbles. Erwin is sitting down on the edge of the toilet lid, looking nervous as all hell.

It’s romantic, that’s for sure.

And all Levi can do is just start laughing. To make it worse, the sad, dejected look on Erwin’s face just makes him laugh even more. “Oh, God- Erwin, no, don’t worry,” he huffs. “This is really lovely, I swear.”

He’s not sure he’s ever referred to anything as lovely before in his life, but he’s being truthful. He forces his face back into a neutral expression and crosses over to the other side of the bedroom in a couple of strides, taking Erwin’s face in his hands and kissing him. “Really. Thank you.”

Levi starts to undress himself, placing his folded clothes in a neat, ordered pile on the counter by the sink. He can feel Erwin’s eyes burning into him as he takes off his underwear, and then even hotter still as he steps carefully into the bathtub and sinks down into the water. He sighs, and closes his eyes, and suddenly all of the stupid shit from the past week melts away in a mix of green tea scented bubble bath and vanilla candles. Fuck, it feels good.

“Are you going to join me or just sit there and stare at me like a creep for an hour?” Levi asks, rolling his head to face Erwin.

Erwin is hardly able to hold his excitement as he gets to his feet, taking his clothes off in record time. Levi sits forwards so that Erwin can slip into the tub behind him. The tub is pretty big, but Erwin still has to bend his knees to be able to sit in it. It’s still comfortable though, and Levi lets Erwin wrap his arms around his waist and pull him back against his chest.

With Erwin’s lips pressing little kisses against his cheeks and his fingers stroking little circles on his ribs – this may be the most relaxed he’s ever been.

--

After they get out of the bath and dry off, Erwin leads Levi to the bedroom. As if dinner and a bath weren’t enough, he gets Levi to lie naked and face-down on the bed for a massage. Erwin puts down a towel, brings a couple of candles in from the bathroom and sits, also naked, on the back of Levi’s knees.

The massage oil is cold as it drips onto his back, but it smells like coconut and it soon warms up when Erwin’s large hands glide up from the base of his spine to his shoulders. His entire body feels like it’s melting into the sheets as Erwin works out some of the most egregious knots in his shoulders and neck.

Levi sighs contentedly. “You better not have anything else planned. This is already so much.”

“This is the last thing,” Erwin chuckles. He leans over Levi’s body, pressing his chest against his back and kissing the back of his neck, and moving a short distance down his spine. “I promise.”

All Levi can do whilst Erwin is massaging his entire body is just lie there and moan quietly. He’s not really the type of guy to get massages, so he doesn’t have anything to compare it to, but Erwin does a damn good job at it. It’s hard for him to believe that anyone could do any better – especially when Erwin lightly presses his fingers between the tops of Levi’s thighs, sliding them up and cupping his buttocks firmly in his hands. From that point on, Levi is almost painfully hard.

He starts to squirm in his spot – not out of discomfort or anything, but pure anticipation. It’s obviously turning out to be one of those sorts of massages; especially with Erwin’s erection pressing firmly between his thighs. Levi isn’t exactly complaining about it, but Erwin sure is taking his sweet time to move onto anything further.

“Okay,” Erwin mumbles, sitting up on his knees a little bit. “Turn around.”

Levi flips himself over, raising his arms up to cover his eyes. Erwin applies more oil onto his hands and Levi can’t help but sigh as his hands move up his stomach and press into his chest. His gentle fingers circle Levi’s nipples, and God, he’s never felt so sensitive there in his life. He gasps loudly and arches his back when Erwin finally brushes the pads of his thumbs over them.

“Fuck, fuck,” Levi hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. His cock is throbbing and leaking against his stomach. Thankfully, Erwin decides not to tease him too much this time and goes straight into slowly moving his palm up the shaft of Levi’s cock before loosely wrapping his hand around it. He uses his other hand to nudge Levi’s legs apart and rub against his inner thighs, eventually sliding down between his cheeks to caress his perineum. It almost feels like too much stimulation, but in a good way. Honestly, he feels a little cheated that none of the hand jobs he’s ever received have felt like this.

Erwin’s hands speed up, his fingers inching further down to press and rub up against his entrance. Levi draws in a sharp breath when his middle finger finally penetrates him. He doesn’t take his time in sliding his finger further in, eliciting a loud moan from Levi when he crooks his finger up into his prostate.

He seems to be getting a lot of satisfaction in the reactions he’s getting from Levi, if the soft smile on his face is anything to go by. “How are you feeling?” he asks, tightening his grip a little bit.

Levi sighs, “Good, good,” and lifts his legs up a little bit for easier access. Erwin takes it as an opportunity to add in another finger, pressing a firm kiss onto Levi’s knee. His fingers press up against Levi’s prostate at the same moment his other thumb rubs against his frenulum, and Levi’s whole body twitches almost violently. Erwin raises a thick eyebrow at that, letting out a soft, “Oh?”

Having found the sweet spot, he sticks to stroking those two places in particular, and the more he strokes, the more vocal Levi gets. It’s the loudest he’s ever been during sex – which isn’t that much of a challenge to beat, since he was usually strangely quiet. But the noises he’s making are downright pathetic. Even so, coupled with the fact that he’s legitimately panting and his body keeps twitching involuntarily, he can’t bring himself to feel too embarrassed about his body’s reaction to the stimulation.

His orgasm builds up in the pits of his stomach, tingling up his spine, and Erwin just keeps speeding up little by little. Luckily for Levi, it doesn’t take too long for his entire body to explode with pleasure – and explode it does. Levi comes, and his whole body shakes with it, and it just keeps going. His pathetic little moans evolve into frantic crying – so bad that he has to shove his face into the sheets to muffle most of it. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, fuck,” Levi hisses, scrunching his eyes shut and practically crying into the sheets. “Fuck, I love you, Jesus fuck.”

Tears roll down his cheeks as his body starts to calm down a little bit, and he manages to wipe them away with the back of his hand. Erwin doesn’t say anything – he just strokes Levi’s hair and leans in to press little kisses on his forehead.

They lie there for a few moments, Erwin whispering praise in Levi’s ear as he tries to calm down and stop the physical aftershocks of his orgasm. It takes him a good ten minutes for his body to finally settle and stop feeling like it’s floating. He looks up at Erwin, and then it clicks. Oh no.

“That was… um,” Levi starts. He digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands and cringes internally. Erwin is looking back at him with wide eyes. There’s no way he missed it. Change the subject as quickly as you can. “I think you’ve killed me.”

“Is that good or bad?” Erwin asks, giving Levi a pitiful little smile.

“Good,” Levi confirms. “I totally blacked out for a minute there. Like… I almost have no idea what happened.”

Erwin looks a little confused, but Levi just chooses to ignore it and rolls away. He sits up, and immediately his vision floods with static. He groans and waits a few moments before he crawls off of the bed. His legs nearly give way when he stands up, but he manages to stay on his feet and pull on his underwear without falling over. “I’m going to shower this oil off of me.”

“Good idea.”

“Are you staying the night…?” Levi asks warily, completely unsure of whether he wanted him to or not.

“I’d like to stay,” Erwin confirms.

“Okay.” Levi stands there awkwardly for a beat too long, before basically sprinting down the hall and into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him a little bit too hard and leans his back against the door, sliding his hands over his face.

Fuck.

--

“You did what?!”

Levi just sits there, looking down at his hands in shame. Needless to say, Isabel didn’t take the news of Levi accidentally telling Erwin he loved him and then completely back-pedalling – y’know, like a coward – very well. She leans forwards and smackshim on the head. “Ouch, you bitch!” Levi yelps, grabbing his head. “What was I supposed to do?!”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know, maybe just fucking tell him how you feel?” Isabel exclaims.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Isabel counters. “You’re both obviously crazy for each other. Are you that stupid?”

All Levi can do is shrug. While it is true that he is a bit crazy about Erwin, he��s not really sure if he loves him. It’s not like he has anything else to compare to – he’s never been in a relationship or even really liked anyone before, so how should he know whether or not he’s in love with Erwin? They’ve been seeing each other for a while – longer than Levi has ever seen anyone by a longshot – and Levi cares about him just as much as he cares about Isabel and Farlan, but that doesn’t necessarily have to mean that he’s in love.

And what if Erwin doesn’t feel the same way about him? When Levi said that he loved him, Erwin didn’t say anything back. Granted, the entire situation was awkward and weird, but… He didn’t say anything about it then, and he hasn’t said anything about it since.

Isabel sighs, throwing her head down into her hands. “Why are you like this?” she groans, and Levi suddenly feels like a child who’s being lectured by his teacher. She lifts her head. “Do you remember when I was dating Sophie? And for months she was the only thing I talked or thought about. Like, it was so bad that you started spraying me with water every time I even said her name.”

“Yeah?”

“You sit around waiting for him to message, and if he’s not here you mope around the house all day until he asks if he can come over.”

“I don’t mope,” he argues.

…

Okay, maybe he does mope a little.

Isabel flaps her hand in his direction. “Whatever. I’m basically saying that you’re acting exactly like I used to, and it’s so obvious.” She sighs and leans forwards towards him. “Look. It’s okay if you don’t feel ready to tell him. If you’re too scared to acknowledge that you love him, or if you don’t think you do just yet, you don’t have to do anything at all.”

For the first time in a longtime, Levi doesn’t know what to do.

Maybe he is falling in love, but where does he go from there? If Erwin tells him that he loves him, do they start calling each other boyfriends? The idea of calling someone his boyfriend at thirty fucking years old just feels so weird to him – hell, it would’ve felt weird to him as a kid. And if Erwin doesn’t feel the same way and doesn’t want to see him anymore, what will he do then? He can’t even begin to imagine his life without Erwin in it anymore.

The idea of losing Erwin makes him feel sick.

Levi groans and throws his head back. “God fucking damn it,” he sighs. He brings his hands up to his face and digs his fingers into his eyelids. “I’m going to have to tell him for real, aren’t I?”

Chuckling, Isabel leans over to pat Levi’s knee. “Good luck.”

--

He doesn’t have anything close to a coherent plan in mind, but Levi invites Erwin over on the following Saturday.

He arrives at Levi’s house at noon with a paper bag full of different kinds of doughnuts and a cappuccino for Levi, who drinks it so fast that it burns his throat on the way down. The caffeine calms him down a little bit, but his hands are still shaking as Erwin says hello to Croissant, shouts his greeting to Isabel in her room, and throws himself down onto the couch.

He needs to say something.

Despite Levi’s jittery nerves, Erwin seems to be acting exactly the same as he always does. He smiles up at Levi and pats his knees, beckoning him to come and sit down. Levi complies, slowly slinking over to climb into Erwin’s lap. He pulls Levi down, kissing him on the mouth and sliding a hand up the back of his shirt. He idly strokes Levi’s back, fingers skimming over the ridges of his spine and causing Levi to melt even further into Erwin’s embrace.

Levi sighs happily, his hands immediately finding their place in Erwin’s hair and pushing his fingers through to separate the shitty hair-wax that he insists on using.

He really needs to say something. How hard does it have to be to tell someone that you love them, when you’ve already said it before?

But Erwin is warm, despite how cold it is outside, and Levi can feel himself finally calming down for the first time all day. Why does he even have to bring it up? It would be so much easier to just wait until Erwin brings it up himself. Or until he gets sick of him, Levi supposes – which would probably be so much worse, now that he thinks about it.

Winter is finally creeping up, and the more time he spends with Erwin, the more he begins to dread the idea of spending the season alone. He doesn’t peg himself for a particularly traditional person, nor a romantic, but spending the holiday season without him there would just feel wrong. Seeing people in their happy couples never really bothered Levi too much in the past, but there was always the tiniest feeling inside of his chest that felt a little too much like loneliness. Not to mention that they’ve all already gotten so used to Erwin being around, and Levi is in way too deep.

Erwin eases up, nudging his lips against Levi’s gently and slipping his hand down to his ass. He hums contentedly as Erwin’s long fingers dig firmly into his skin, acting as a way to pull him closer. His lips slowly find their way down Levi’s neck, and Erwin gently nudges his Adam’s apple with his tongue, eventually attaching onto his neck and sucking and licking its way down to his collarbone. There’s a sharp curl of pleasure deep within Levi’s core, and he can’t help the startled hiccup that forces its way out of his mouth.

“Fuuuck, alright.” Levi pulls back from Erwin suddenly and scrambles to climb off of his lap.

Erwin’s eyebrows shoot up and he sits up, carefully folding his hands in his lap. “What’s wrong?”

“God, um…” Levi shifts nervously. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, sinking his teeth into the inside of his bottom lip. “You know, the other night. When I said… That I. Love you. Or whatever.”

Erwin blinks slowly at him. “I… didn’t think you’d want me to bring it up.”

“Yeah, well…” Levi digs his fingernails into his thigh and looks away. “I guess I’m bringing it up.”

“Okay,” Erwin says slowly. “You’re going to say that you didn’t mean it, right? Like, you just said it in the moment.” He sounds pretty sure of himself, Levi notices. He wonders if Erwin went through it in his head over and over, trying to convince himself that he didn’t mean it – just like Levi did.

Levi shrugs. “I did say it in the moment,” he confirms. He hazards a glance at Erwin for a second, and looks into his eyes, and sees just how startled he seems. There really isn’t any way he can’t tell him now, and the worst Erwin can do is reject him. It will only mean years of crippling embarrassment and loneliness for Levi, but he’s sure he’s been through worse in his life.

He takes a deep breath and turns around so that he isn’t facing Erwin anymore. Here goes. “The thing is,” he starts, slowly, “I think I do. Love you.”

There it is.

He did it, he did it, he did it.

Levi lets go of the huge sigh that’s been weighing him down all day. He’s still absolutely shitting himself, but it feels great to finally get it off of his chest. He has never laid his heart out to anyone like this before. He takes a couple of moments to breathe and slowly turns around to look at Erwin again. And… Erwin just staring at him with his mouth open was not exactly the reaction he thought he would get.

“I was–” Erwin’s voice cracks, and he clears his throat “…not expecting that.”

Levi is suddenly hit by a rush of oh fuck, oh God, oh no, and slowly pulls further back. He’s not sure exactly what he was expecting himself – total and complete rejection, maybe, but not… awkward, stunned silence. He can’t even run away, because it’s his house. Fuck, he knew he should’ve done it at Erwin’s place.

Still, he considers bolting anyway because he doesn’t think there is anything he has ever hated more than telling someone that he loves them for the first time and just getting stared at.

He’s just about to stand up and make his escape, but Erwin leans forwards and places a hand gently onto his thigh. “Tell me again.”

Levi clears his throat, and suddenly he’s completely nervous all over again. “I think I’m in love with you,” he mumbles. For good measure, he tentatively adds, “Erwin.”

Erwin suddenly leans in closer, pressing a hard kiss onto Levi’s mouth and sliding a hand up into his hair. He wraps an arm around Levi’s waist and pulls him in closer until their chests are pressed up against each other. He pulls back slowly, and he’s smiling, and he says, “I think I’m in love with you, too,” and Levi feels the weight lift off of his shoulders.

“You kept me waiting a little too long for that, y’know?” Levi says, leaning back. “I thought you were about to get up and leave.”

“I’m sorry.” Erwin chuckles, and kisses him again. “I would never do that to you, I promise.”

“That’s okay,” Levi says, just about melting. He pulls Erwin on top of him and kisses the hell out of him.

--

In all of the years that Levi has known Isabel, there has never been anything that has stopped her from going all out for Christmas, and this year is no different. She buys her presents months in advance, and absolutely insists on decorating immediately after Halloween.

Levi hates it. He hates Christmas, and he hates decorating, but it’s not like he could stop her. That would just be wrong.

Most of all, he hates the Christmas tree. He hates how the plastic leaves scratch his hands, and how difficult it is to screw it into the shitty metal stand, and he can’t stand the fact that Isabel and Farlan seemingly have no eye for decoration. They just throw ornaments and tinsel of all colours onto the tree and call it a day. It’s genuinely painful, and Isabel is lucky that he loves her so much. And if he subtly fixes her decoration monstrosities every now and then, no one has to know.

Levi watches in horror as Isabel haphazardly throws green tinsel onto the tree, completely covering up at least five of the baubles Levi had hung himself. She smirks sideways at Levi, and he concludes that there’s no way she isn’t doing it on purpose.

Beside him, Erwin chuckles quietly to himself and leans over to wrap an arm around Levi’s shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re just letting her do this,” he notes. “You must be more whipped than I thought.”

“He is!” Farlan says happily, tossing another string of tinsel at the tree. It lands almost directly on top of another string, and they just leave it there. Because they’re monsters.

Levi grumbles, crossing his arms. “She does it on purpose because she knows I can’t say anything about it,” he explains. He has to try extra hard not to cringe in disgust. “Christmas is the only time of the year where I’m not allowed to complain.”

Humming in what Levi chooses to believe to be a sympathetic manner, Erwin pulls on Levi’s shoulders until his head is resting in his lap. He takes the opportunity to curl up and shield his eyes from the horror unfolding in front of him, and pretty much melts into the couch as Erwin runs his fingers through his hair.

“And there’s still two months of Christmas left!” Isabel exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Yay,” Levi responds, completely unenthusiastically.

As November rolls on into December, Erwin and Farlan start to spend nearly every day at the house. It starts with Farlan, who usually spends most of the holidays with them every year, and Levi supposes that Erwin just follows his lead. It makes sense, he supposes, since Erwin doesn’t really have family to spend time with during the holidays either.

He wouldn’t admit it, but Levi is the happiest that he’s ever felt now that Erwin is around every day. They slowly fall into new routines, and it definitely helps that Erwin has plenty of time to bake holiday-themed treats. Whilst they both have time off of work, it’s easy to slip into a comfortable state of sitting down in front of the TV, cooking, “family bonding night” with Isabel and Farlan, and making out all week.

Levi can’t remember ever being excited for Christmas, but he bought Erwin an expensive Damascus-patterned Santoku knife, and there are some nights where he genuinely can’t get to sleep from how excited he is to see the look on his face when he gives it to him – and sometimes, from how nervous he is at the thought that Erwinn won’t even like it.

On Christmas Eve, he waits no later than 12:03am to sit Erwin down in front of the fireplace and give him the meticulously wrapped giftbox that has been giving him so much anxiety lately. He watches with a full heart as Erwin takes his time to unwrap it, being extra careful not to tear the wrapping paper or crease the nice ribbon that Levi used. He takes the lid off of the fancy wooden box that the knife resides inside, taking his sweet time as though he knows exactly how much the anticipation is killing Levi.

“Oh wow,” is all Erwin says once he sets the lid down. He gently picks up the knife and turns it around in his hands, not even attempting to stifle the huge grin that crosses his face. “This is lovely, Levi. I’m almost a bit scared to use it, it’s so nice.”

Levi just shrugs. “It can just be for decoration.”

Erwin gently puts the knife away and leans forwards to land a hard kiss on Levi’s mouth, “Thank you so much. I love it.” He adds, “I love you,” and Levi can’t help but push him down onto the floor and crawl on top of him. The world outside is slowly filling up with white snow and holiday chill, and the crackling fireplace isn’t the only thing keeping them so warm on their first of many Christmases together.

[gotham-rat]

BRO since father's day is nearby, how would the batfam celebrate it with bruce and alfred (alfred takes care of them sm and deals with their shit on the daily, he's technically a father too imo!!) and how would they celebrate it when they're in quarantine and before when there's no quarantine?? I love reading your stuff anf it genuinely makes me happy and hope u have a great day! ^___^

this made me so happy!!! and wow it’s an amazing ask so thank you anon :)) here we go, it’s a pretty long one:

batfam + father’s day

bruce, without fail, always forgets about father’s day. it creeps up on him every year and every year he’s surprised by his kids. the very first father’s day gift he ever received was from dick-his second year of being robin. it was a very colorful card, with a drawing of a small robin and a big hulking batman. young dick also included 46 cents in change because he thought money was a very high end addition. bruce cried later, softly while in bed. he couldn’t stop thinking about just how much he cared for richard. his little boy. dick, of course, carried on the father’s day gift tradition. cards accompanied by long hugs, cheesy fake trophies for “#1 DAD”, awkward pictures of bruce on patrol in big frames, his gifts remained light, always poking a little fun. bruce keeps every single one.

jason’s first father’s day with bruce felt a little tense. jason wasn’t sure if he could celebrate it with him, he didnt know if bruce liked that type of thing, even though jason himself wanted badly to spend the day with him. so when dick showed up, bearing gifts, and jason saw bruce’s grin, he ran upstairs and pulled out a letter he’d written but wasn’t planning on giving. every year until his death he’d write bruce a long letter. post-death jason doesn’t usually show up, but leaves a small package on the front step every father’s day. it’s addressed to both bruce and alfred and is normally random things. a polaroid of him and a bad guy he tied up, a batman themed card deck, an old batarang he found in a street once, etc.

tim woke up really early his first father’s day, and replaced every picture in the house with one of bruce that had been used as a meme all that year. (it was him at a red carpet event, doing The White Man Pose, awkwardly facing the camera). every year he does something like that, TPing the house, putting googly eyes on the food, etc. bruce finds it absolutely delightful even though he pretends to be annoyed.

damian didn’t really understand the concept of father’s day, so upon waking up and finding the whole crew there, he was pretty confused. when he found out what was happening, he quietly excused himself and proceeded to cry in his room. he felt embarrassed and guilty for not knowing. he wanted to express his great love for his father but he had no idea how. bruce came into his room, quietly shutting the door behind him, and dami wrapped his arms around him and they sat on the bed hugging for a long time. bruce kissed the top of his head and said “thank you.” when damian heard that he asked “for what? I didn’t get you anything.” and bruce said “you’re here. you’re my kid. I’m thankful everyday for that.”

cassie punches bruce in the arm as hard as she can every year. she leaves a tiny fist shaped bruise that hurts way more than bruce will every admit.

barbara always swings by, and takes a pic of bruce and her own dad when she sees him, and then cuts each person out and pastes it together on one picture to give to both of him. on the back she writes “love you dads!” or “batdad and copdad” or “why do you both look so stiff? xx”

father’s day makes stephanie uncomfortable. highly uncomfortable. she certainly loves bruce, but doesn’t quite see him as the father figure most of the others do. she calls him every year though, at 6 o’clock on the dot. sometimes she cries. she thanks him and tells him she’s so grateful to have him in her life. bruce wants nothing more than to hug her, but he knows she doesn’t like being around him on that day, when her mind is filled with thoughts of her own father.

when it comes to alfred, bruce organizes the whole thing with his kids. alfred doesn’t really do much butler work anymore, but he definitely gets the whole day off, dami and bruce cook whatever he asks for, for each meal (and he likes to mess with them and ask for difficult things to make) and tim puts on a suit quite similar to alfred’s and talks with a bad british accent. damian likes giving him father’s day gifts and writing “grand” in front of “father” which alfred absolutely adores. he’s completely showered with gifts, in fact he gets more than bruce does. last year they distributed nerf guns and had a full pillow fort war with him. alfred kicked all their asses of course.

for quarantine this year, things were a little different. these members are quarantined in wayne manor: bruce, alfred, dick (he couldn’t be alone in his apartment), tim, jason (where else could he go), cassie, and damian. (stephs in cali and babs is self quarantining). dick got the wonderful idea of putting on a talent show for bruce and alfred, as a way of celebrating how well the two have raised them. it took a lot of convincing on his part, but finally everyone agreed. dick did a dance number that’s was entirely too long. tim solved not one, not two, but three rubix cubes in under a minute. damian did a little magic show where he was supposed to *cut* off jason’s finger and restore it, only he accidentally did cut into jason’s finger, and there had to be a pause in the show for jason to get gauze and wrap. damian is now banned from doing magic. jason reanacted the door scene in titanic by himself. cassie dares anyone to challenge her to a staring contest. she won everytime.

[bijvoorbeeldja]

HERE SHE IS

The full enemies-to-lovers, “You’ve Got Mail” Sobbe AU, sprinkled with a few little surprises ***

I was NOT playin around when I said I was going to write ALL the fics during this quarantine y’all ain’t ready

Hope you enjoy! <3 I’d love to know what you think (even if you hate it)

……

Robbe’s phone buzzed on his nightstand.

earthlingoddity: good morning

He smiled into the screen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

sterkerdanijzer: already awake?

earthlingoddity: yep

earthlingoddity: had some early morning inspiration

sterkerdanijzer: r u gonna let me see what you drew this time?

earthlingoddity: nope

earthlingoddity: against the rules

Robbe sighed, shaking his head.

Rolling out of bed, he contemplated what to type in response. This back-and-forth had been going on for months now, always coming back to this: the rules.

Clearly, they could text all they wanted. But that was it: just text. No voices, no photos showing their faces, locations, or anything else personal. Like drawings, for example. Nothing personal.

But really, everything they had been doing, all they had been talking about, felt personal to Robbe.

Screw the rules, Robbe thought. Even just through texts, he’d gotten closer to this person than anyone else in his life. Their conversations often started at dawn and spread throughout the day, lingering into the night until one of them fell asleep.

Of course, he’d agreed to the rules at the beginning. Hell, he’d made them. It was just talking, nothing else. But the more they talked, the more he wanted.

….

In a weird turn of events, Robbe had met Earthling in the comments of an Antwerp street art Tumblr, where teenagers flocked to share and comment on their latest masterpieces. Masked by alias handles, no one involved in the group knew the identities of the others. When they met up to tag at a location, everyone wore masks, hoodies, and dark clothes. Then they rehashed their work online, sharing photos and comments before planning their next meetup.

Robbe, using his disguised handle, had commented on a photo, when a stranger named earthlingoddity had commented back. Robbe had laughed and responded. The two passed banter back and forth before finally moving to DMs.

earthlingoddity: so you’re an artist, then the stranger had written him.

sterkerdanijzer: no, definitely not

sterkerdanijzer: I’m just in it for the vandalism

earthlingoddity: Hahahaha fair enough

earthlingoddity: u live in antwerp tho right?

sterkerdanijzer: pretty sure we’re not supposed to share details, STRANGER

earthlingoddity: ;-)

earthlingoddity: youre right. but i mean, we are talking now. and we’ve probably already seen each other

sterkerdanijzer: yeah maybe

earthlingoddity: I probably would have recognized a vandal tho…

sterkerdanijzer: not a chance. you’re probably one of those uppity art hoes who makes his masterpiece and doesn’t even acknowledge the little people

earthlingoddity: so you’re short then

sterkerdanijzer: enough! no personal details

Earthlingoddity: ok, so no names, no locations, no personal details. Any other rules?

sterkerdanijzer: uhm

sterkerdanijzer: no phone calls. And NO pics of your artwork. I might recognize it 

Earthlingoddity: so definitely no dick pics, then

Robbe had nearly choked at this. Even though their chatting had started as nearly nothing, it had rapidly become...something.  At least for Robbe. The past few weeks, their conversations had grown from occasional back-and-forths to constant communication, nearly-endless banter, and then...not-so-subtle flirting. Whatever was going on with this stranger, Robbe couldn’t bear to lose it. 

…..

Once he was finally ready for school that day, Robbe grabbed his skateboard and headed out to the street. Before mounting his board on the sidewalk, he opened his last chat with Earthling, trying to muster the courage to send him the message he’d been wanting to for days.

sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

Robbe’s fingers hovered over the keys, trying to gather the courage to hit send. It was stupid, he knew, but he was so terrified of scaring this stranger away. For reasons he didn’t fully understand yet, he needed him. Assuming it was, in fact, a him. I guess it was bold of him to assume Earthling was a boy. And gay. He took a breath and kicked off, starting to roll down the street. 

Then, out of nowhere, he was crashing, thrust back off his board and onto the ground as he collided with something. Or better, someone. 

Ugh, he groaned. Slowly rising up, he grabbed his phone and bag, which had been expelled violently from the impact. 

“What the hell, Robin?” the boy said, picking himself back up off the sidewalk where he’d fallen. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?! Do you even know how to ride that thing?”

Brushing the dirt off his hands, he looked up, already feeling stiff aches form in his joints from the fall. Looking up, he groaned again.

Of course, it was Sander Driesen. He should have known immediately. No one else had the nerve to call him Robin.

Robbe rolled his eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t be meandering in the middle of the sidewalk,” he threw back. “Pick a side and stay out of the way of people who actually need to get somewhere.”

Sander scoffed, dusting himself off and grabbing his bag, rearranging the now-disorderly contents inside. “Right, I forgot. You’ll be late for class,” he said, the words dripping with disdain. “Ahh, to be young and only concerned with high school drama.” 

Oh, how Robbe hated Sander Driesen. 

Clad head-to-toe in black, with a noisy leather jacket, combat boots and a shock of (badly) bleached-blonde hair, he was a walking cliche. 

The two had grown up together, coexisting side by side in school and social circles. But the two could not be more different. Because of this, their relationship didn’t amount to much more than swapped insults in passing, tense confrontations, and merciless teasing. Now that Sander had graduated high school, their interactions were fewer. But for Robbe, that was still too often. 

“So tell me, O Wise One,” Robbe  shot back. “If you’re so above all of us children, why are you still dating Britt? She’s not too ‘high school drama’ for you?”

Sander grimaced. “I’m not with Britt,” he said, almost clenching his teeth.

“Right, whatever,” Robbe said, ready for this encounter to be way past over. “I don’t give a damn about your personal life. In fact, I don’t give a damn about anything involving you. I have to go.”

He turned to leave, realizing he skateboard was still on the ground, rolled out of his reach, an end tucked under the heel of Sander’s boot. He smirked at Robbe. 

“Oh, right. Your toy.” Sander rolled it back to Robbe, staring him down with an obnoxious smile. “See you around...Robin.”

Robbe grabbed his board and walked off in a huff, flipping Sander off as he passed. “Screw you, Sander.”

Rounding the corner, he stopped to steady his breathing. Why must his day be tainted with the influence of that fake blonde, edgy wannabe pyscho? Inhaling deep and taking advantage of his high tide of emotions, he pulled out his phone again, returning to his chat with Earthling. Do it, he told himself. Do it before you lose your nerve. Typing fast, he wrote:

Sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

He hit Send, waiting breathlessly.

Within seconds, three dots appeared. Earthling was typing.

……

The music was blaring, thumping against Robbe’s heartbeat. The crowd at the party was so thick that he was pressed up against Jens and Aaron, their combined heat making him slightly nauseous. 

But all he could focus on was the neon glow of the screen in front of him, and in his mind running over and over the words Earthling had texted him hours earlier: Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea.

Robbe had stared at it again and again, feeling that same nosedive in his stomach as he had when he first got it that morning on the street. He didn’t want to meet Robbe. So all of it had been...nothing after all. Deep down he’d known that. It was just talking. But it still felt like rejection. How could he so intensely have misread their connection? Even virtually, Robbe had felt the magnitude of it. Or so he’d thought. 

All of this considered, he hadn’t been a very good wingman for his friends tonight. They’d dragged him to this party at Noor’s, scanning the room intently, looking for girls to pursue. Robbe just stood by, slumped and sipping lukewarm beer that just made his stomach turn.

Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea he read again. Ugh. He was going to be torturing himself all night.

“Dude,” Jens elbowed him suddenly, or maybe just shifted, their proximity making it impossible to tell. “Dude, ten o’clock. That guy is totally checking you out.”

Robbe scoffed, not even bothering to look up. Gay guys at this party? He doubted it. 

“Seriously, Robbe,” Jens pushed again. “He’s definitely staring. And he’s actually pretty hot.” 

“Yep, totally,” Aaron agreed, nodding as he took a swig of his beer. “Definitely your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” Robbe sighed, finally tucking his phone back in his pocket and looking up. Shifting his gaze to his left, he looked in the direction the boys had indicated, trying to find a pair of eyes seeking his.

Whoa. Okay, so he was pretty hot.

Tall with messy brown hair, a boy with blue eyes was meeting his gaze. When the corners of the boy’s lips lifted in a smile, Robbe blushed, looking down. Now he looked desperate. Super.

“Go get another beer,” Jens said, shoving him forward. “See if he follows you. And act cool!”

“What? I—” Robbe protested, but the two were now pushing him together, forcing a parting of the crowd in front of them. 

Robbe swallowed, palms starting to sweat. He wove slowly through groups and couples dancing, making his way to the kitchen. Inside he sought out more drinks among the counter full of bottles and cups. It only took a few moments before he heard it.

“Hey,” the voice behind him said, deep and raspy. 

Robbe turned slowly, trying to swallow the dryness from his throat. The tall boy stood behind him, his beer dangling from two fingers. He leaned down to Robbe, putting his mouth close to his ear. 

“I’m Nathan,” he leaned back again to look Robbe in the eyes. 

“Uhm,” Robbe stammered. “I’m Rob-Robbe.”

“Hi, Robbe,” Nathan said, smiling. “Do you dance?” He took a step forward, dangerously close.

“Not if I can help it,” Robbe laughed nervously. The boy laughed too, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth and dimples. Robbe wiped a hand across his mouth, worried he was drooling now.

“Maybe another drink, then?” the boy asked. Robbe just nodded.

Nathan smiled and reached around to the counter, searching through the bottles. When he finally found an unopened one, he popped off the top easily, making Robbe’s stomach flip. So hot.  

Nathan handed it to Robbe, smiling. As Robbe took it, their fingertips brushed together. Robbe looked down, blushing. Then, again, the boy’s face was leaning down. They were cheek to cheek. 

“Want to get out of here?” he whispered, sending a wave of goosebumps down Robbe’s arm and spine. With a small nod, Nathan grabbed Robbe’s hand, leading him through the crowd.

…..

Outside, the air was much cooler, and Robbe felt like he could breathe again. The music blared from the door of the apartment building onto the street, but now it was just a dull throb instead of a deafening pulse.

Deep inhales of the outside air made his head feel lighter, his thoughts clearer...that is, until Nathan would brush his arm. Then he felt fuzzy again. With one arm leaning against the brick of the building, the other was casually touching Robbe’s every few minutes and Robbe could feel his knees going weak.

They had been talking for almost forty-five minutes and Robbe forgot how nice it was to talk intimately with someone he could actually be face to face with. Why had he even been bothering with Earthling? Clearly, that was going nowhere. Nathan, on the other hand, had potential. He was interesting, asking Robbe about his life and sharing details about his own. They talked easily, their touches getting progressively more frequent. Then, Nathan went silent, his gaze flicking down to Robbe’s lips. Robbe’s stomach was fluttering, licking his lips in anticipation. Nathan was leaning in, the hand against the brick sliding down to Robbe’s waist….

“Well, well well,” a loud voice behind him announced, breaking violently through their moment, causing the two to pull apart quickly. “If it isn’t my pal, Robin!” 

Sander Driesen, in dark jeans and a white t-shirt, appeared next to Robbe, followed by Britt in tow. He looked from Robbe to Nathan, smiling widely. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Robbe muttered under his breath. Nathan looked confused, glancing from Robbe to the bleached-blonde boy.

“Robin?” he asked, biting his lip in bewilderment.

“Ignore him,” Robbe said, grabbing his shoulder. “C’mon.” 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Robin?” Sander replied, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows at Robbe. 

Robbe groaned. “Seriously, Sander,” he said, “Not now.”

“Oh, c’mon, buddy,” he gave Robbe’s shoulder a soft punch. “Introduce me to your friend,” the last work thick with implication.

Robbe rolled his eyes as Sander stuck a hand out to Nathan, who took it with a polite smile.

“I’m Sander,” the boy said. “Robbe and I….well, let’s just say we have a looooong history.”

Robbe glared at Sander. “We’re going now.”

As he was leading Nathan back down the street, Sander called out again, louder.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt the moment, love birds,” he said, smirking. “Carry on!” With a chuckle, Sander threw an arm around Britt’s waist and walked into the apartment.

A few feet down the sidewalk Nathan turned to Robbe. “Who was that?

“Nobody,” Robbe answered quickly, trying to turn the conversation anywhere but on Sander. 

“It didn’t seem like nobody,” Nathan said quietly, rubbing a hand through his hair.  “Is he...an old boyfriend, or something?”

“What?!” Robbe near-shouted, stopping to look right at Nathan. “No. No. Not even close. He drives me crazy.”

Nathan bit his lip. “Look, Robbe. I should probably get going.”

“What?” Robbe said, his face dropping. “Because of him? You can’t be serious—”

“I was probably moving too quickly,” Nathan said slowly. “I’m sorry.” He gave Robbe a quick kiss on the cheek and walked away, turning the corner out of view. 

…..

Robbe didn’t care who was spilling drinks or getting their feet stepped on. Plowing through the crowd with his elbows, he found his way into the party and back to Jens and Aaron, who were in the middle of telling a story to two girls bearing plastic cups and bored expressions.

“Uhm, hey guys?” Robbe said, tapping Jens on the shoulder. “I’m going to take off.” Jens turned, quickly motioning a be right back to the girls, who nodded vaguely. 

“Wait, what happened with the guy?’ Jens asked eagerly. “Are you going to his place?”

Robbe frowned. “No. It didn’t exactly...work out.”

“Sorry, man,” Aaron said, slapping Robbe’s shoulder. “Want us to come with?”

Robbe shook his head. “Nah, you guys stay. I’m going to call it a night anyway.”

Finishing his goodbyes, Robbe ditched his bottle and stepped back out in the night air, now considerably cooler. Finding his bike, he started unlocking the lock when a voice behind him again shook him out of his thoughts.

“Headed home already?” Sander. Again.

Robbe whipped around on him, finding him alone this time. 

“Seriously, Sander? Can you please just leave me alone?” Robbe said, almost whining now. “You already managed to ruin this night for me once.”

This sobered Sander a little, who swallowed and took a step forward.

“Robbe, I—”

“No, I mean it, Sander. Go back to Britt, who’s apparently not your ‘girlfriend,’” Robbe did air quotes, making Sander clench his teeth again, “and leave me the hell alone.”

There was silence for a moment before Sander spoke.

“I’m sorry, Robbe.”  

Robbe shook his head and turned back to his bike lock.

“I was doing you a favor, okay?” Sander spoke, his voice insistent. “That guy seemed like a real douche.” Robbe scoffed. Seriously? 

“I mean, did you see his hair?” Sander continued. “Total poser.”

Robbe laughed to himself. “Yeah, like you’re one to talk,” he mumbled back at Sander.

Sander smiled at this. “Touche.” 

Robbe had his bike unlocked now and he started to wheel it down the street. 

“See you around, Robbe.” Sander called out.

“Yeah, don’t count on it,” Robbe replied.

As he mounted his bike, his phone vibrated. A message.

Earthlingoddity: You know what, forget what I said. Screw the rules. Let’s meet. When? Where?

………

Robbe didn’t respond to Earthling’s message for several days. When he did, he wanted to come off cool, casual. He drafted and redrafted the same message in a hundred different ways. Finally, he sent back:

Sterkerdanijzer: Yeah, okay. I guess we can. I can do Friday at 18h. Drinks at Jardim Antwerpen?

He got a reply almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: Absolutely. I’ll be there. Without a mask ;-) 

So there he was, sitting at a table watching the sun go down, turning a near-empty glass in his hands over and over again in his hands. Even with the condensation from the glass, Robbe’s palms were clammy. He was so nervous he had to occasionally reach down to calm his shaking legs. 

Milan had helped him pick out an outfit, a white linen button up and jeans. Zoe had mussed his hair until she insisted it was “perfect.” But he just felt ridiculous. Why was he even doing this? If he’d learned anything from the past few weeks, it was that he knew nothing. And he was probably going to be single forever. And for all he knew, Earthling would turn out to be a serial killer. 

At 18h15, Robbe started to get antsy. He messaged the boy:

Sterkerdanijzer: I’m here. White shirt, brown hair. U close?

But he got no response. He bit his lip anxiously, checking his phone constantly. At 18h45, after he had downed one more drink than he should have, he got up. Leaving a tip on the table, he shoved his phone in his pocket and headed to leave. This was a ridiculous idea, he scolded himself. So stupid. Of course he wouldn’t show.

As he neared the exit, he saw a flash of white in his peripheral. Turning, he saw a boy sitting at a table alone, phone in his hand. Sander.

As if he’d spoken his name out loud, Sander looked up, green eyes glowing. He smirked. “Small world,” he called out to Robbe. “What are you doing here?”

Robbe glared at him. “None of your business. What are you doing here?”

Sander just looked at him for a minute. “I’m, uh...waiting for Britt. She’s supposed to be here soon. Were you waiting for a date?” His knowing smile made Robbe’s insides twist. 

“Right,” Robbe said, nodding. “Well, I’m going to…” he turned again to leave.

“Uhm, actually, Robbe?” he called out. Robbe turned back slightly. What was he going to say now?

“Do you think I could borrow your phone to text Britt? Mine is dead.”

Robbe hesitated. Gone from Sander’s tone was any hint of teasing. He sounded genuine. He sounded desperate, almost. 

“Yeah, fine,” Robbe seceded, walking over to Sander’s table and handing over his phone. 

“Thanks,” Sander said, giving Robbe a small smile as he met his gaze. 

Robbe stood there as Sander typed, concentrating hard on the screen. Waiting, he glanced around again. No sign of anybody new. No sign of anybody looking for him. He was so stupid. 

“So, were you supposed to meet Nathan here?” Sander asked, not looking up as he continued to type.

“Why do you care?” Robbe asked.

Sander looked up. “I’m just making conversation. I hope it wasn’t him, though. You could do better.”

Robbe scoffed. “Okay, thanks for the tip, Sander.” He turned away again. ‘Cause Sander cared SO much about him. Right.

Then Sander stood, downing the rest of his drink. “Look like she’s not coming.” But as he handed Robbe back his phone, he didn’t look sad. He was smiling. Walking toward the exit, he turned back toward Robbe. 

“You coming?” Sander asked.

“What, me?” Robbe asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah you, Robin,” Sander laughed. “Let’s go.” Walking away again, Robbe stood there, mouth open. 

“Come!” Sander’s voice reached Robbe again. He was probably too drunk to think straight because next thing he knew, he was following Sander’s silhouette into the sunset. 

…..

“Sander, you cannot be serious,” Robbe stood obstinately away from the door, shaking his head at the boy, who was jiggling with the lock on a door, labeled boldly with a “No Trespassing” sign. “I assumed your plans were more drinks, not jail.”

Sander kept his hands on the door handle, but turned to face Robbe, a teasing grin on his face.

“Would you chill? We’re not getting arrested. I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes me feel better,” Robbe retorted. 

Sander just laughed and continued jiggling until click. The door squeaked open. He turned and raised his eyebrows at Robbe. “Come.”

Robbe shook his head again. He could not believe this. Not only was Sander trying to ruin his social life, he was trying to get him arrested. But Sander had disappeared behind the door, and finally, reluctantly, Robbe followed behind him.

Illuminating the stairs inside with the light on his phone, Sander led Robbe to the top, where he held his hands out in a ta-da! motion, so clearly pleased with this reveal. 

Reaching the top and taking in the scene, Robbe’s jaw dropped. A large, open-air pool laid out before him, neon blue water rippling with the cold wind.

“No,” Robbe started, his voice escalating. “Sander, no. We are not—”

But Sander was starting to shrug out of his jacket, then reaching down to undo the laces of his boots. 

“C’mon,” he whisper-yelled. “We’re doing this!”

“You’re insane!” Robbe yelled. “There’s no way I’m getting in that pool. We will die!”

Sander laughed as he lifted his shirt over his head. “We will not die, Robbe. Just come!”  

Robbe just stood there in disbelief as Sander kept shedding clothes, not stopping at his briefs. In a blink of an eye, he was completely naked and running towards the pool, jumping in with a yelp.

Robbe’s jaw dropped. Sander was actually insane. And was his skin always that golden? And did he have abs?

Emerging from the water with a screech, Sander called out again. 

“Robbe, come! It’s amazing in here!”

“No,” Robbe said defiantly. “No way.”

“You’re missing out, Robin,” he called out to him in a sing-song voice.

Robbe shook his head. “It’s freezing cold!”

“Yeah, it’s freezing cold,” Sander said. “But you have to do it. Get in! Now!”

Treading water, the light from the pool making his blonde hair glow neon, Sander waited for him, smiling.

Before he could think, Robbe started unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the concrete. Stepping out of his jeans, he watched Sander’s eyes roam across his bare chest. He swallowed hard.

Down to his underwear, Robbe started toward the pool, berating himself for giving into the demands of a pretentious — but weirdly captivating — boy. 

Okay, that was clearly the alcohol talking, he thought, shaking the idea from his head. 

“Hey, hey!” Sander yelled, stopping Robbe in his tracks. “All the way or no way.”

Robbe balked at him. Was he serious? He exhaled, biting his lip. Reaching down, he stripped off his underwear, now completely bare in front of Sander Driesen. He was going to regret this. But for now, he jumped into the pool.

He had been right. It was freezing. Easily the coldest water he’d ever felt. When his head exited the water, he yelped. 

“Oh. My. God.” he squealed, teeth chattering. “I am going to kill you, Sander!” He splashed around violently, trying to keep his limbs from going numb. 

“Dude, can you even swim?” Sander yelled, laughing.

Robbe splashed water Sander’s way. “Are you kidding? I can swim better than you any day!”

“Was that a challenge?” Sander quipped, circling around Robbe. 

“Well, yeah, I think it was!” Robbe answered. “You scared Driesen?” 

Sander smiled at him. “You’re on, Robin! First one to that opposite side of the pool wins! On three!”

“One….” Robbe started.

“Two….” Sander echoed.

“Three!” They yelled in unison, taking off for the pool’s edge. 

Robbe stroked, gasping deeply as he tried to find his stride. He was not going to let Sander beat him, no matter how drunk he was.

But when he reached the ledge, cheering in victory, he couldn’t see Sander. He wiped the water from his eyes, and looked beneath the water for Sander. He couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Sander?” He called out. “I totally kicked your ass!”

Still, nothing. Now, Robbe was starting to panic.

“Sander?!” His yelled, desperation creeping into his voice. He was about to call out again when Sander popped out of the water directly in front of him, so close, stealing Robbe’s breath and pinning him against the ledge.

“Sander, what the hell? What are you—” Robbe started, but before he could finish, Sander grasped the ledge behind Robbe, covering his body with his. Robbe felt Sander’s chest rise and fall against his as he tried to catch his breath.

“You won, Robin,” Sander spoke deeply. 

Then, he was kissing Robbe, keeping one hand on the ledge, the other sliding down to Robbe’s waist, holding him in place. Sander’s hand was firm, making Robbe melt beneath him. Robbe reached back a hand to hold himself to the ledge and the other found the nape of Sander’s neck. Using his fingers, he pulled Sander towards him, then let those fingers tangle themselves in Sander’s hair. Feeling his pull, Sander kissed Robbe deeper, grasping at any part of Robbe’s mouth he could find, sliding down to his jaw and his neck, sucking the skin there. Whining, Robbe’s eyes rolled back. Sander found lips again, tugging on them gently. Robbe licked the soft skin of Sander’s lips and heard a gentle moan escape the boy’s throat. It was happening so fast. Their limbs and breath were tangling, mixing together in explosive energy that made them both weak. 

He was kissing Sander Driesen. He was kissing Sander Driesen. When these words came together and made sense in his mind, he startled, shoving Sander off of him. 

“What are we doing?” Robbe spoke, trying to catch his breath. “What are we doing?! This isn’t….we’re, we’re drunk!” His voice was rising, filling with disbelief and exasperation.

“Robbe, I—” Sander said, water dripping off his golden skin, tempting Robbe more than he wanted to admit. He approached Robbe again slowly. 

“No, no,” Robbe said, reaching for the ledge and hefting himself out of the water. “This was a huge mistake. I’m drunk. We’re drunk. We shouldn’t have—”

“Robbe, wait!” Sander called, swimming towards the ledge and following Robbe out.

Robbe ran and gathered his clothes. “I have to go, Sander. Let me go.” 

Sander stopped, a look of confusion and hurt painting his face. “Robbe, don’t….”

Robbe spun on him, his voice rising. “Don’t follow me, Sander. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this. Swear it.”  

Sander just looked at him, lifting up his hands in submission. “I’m sorry, I swear I won’t—”     

Then Robbe ran down the stairs, struggling to pull his clothes on over his soaking-wet body as he left Sander behind him.

……

Robbe had hoped that when he woke up, the whole night would have been a dream. A ridiculous dream that would have made him blush...and probably need to take a cold shower. But still, a dream. A dream he could forget about. But the pile of wet clothes on the floor and phone full of messages from Sander proved otherwise. He groaned, aching from the memory and the hangover. 

His phone vibrated again and exasperated, he turned to silence it when he saw it — a message not from Sander, but from Earthling. 

Earthlingoddity: Hey….I know that there is probably nothing I can say to you right now that will make up for what I did last night. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I promise. Something just...came up and I couldn’t make it. I promise it wasn’t you, okay. Please, please forgive me? 

Robbe just stared at the message. As he did, another message from Sander came. 

Sander: Robbe, please answer me. I’m sorry about last night. Can we please talk, face-to-face?

Robbe rubbed his face. What was he going to say to either of these people? Why was everything such a mess?

Kissing Sander last night...that had been the biggest shock to his system. Sander hated him. He hated Sander. That was their relationship. But in an ice-cold pool they’d entered some alternate universe and crossed a line. They were drunk. That was it. Right?

Robbe went back to the message from Earthling. Typing slowly, he sent:

Sterkerdanijzer: you were right. We should have never agreed to meet.

He got a response back almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: No! No, it wasn’t a mistake. We should meet. I promise, something just came up that I couldn’t say no to. I want to meet you so bad. Please, can you give me another chance? I’ll do anything.

Robbe closed the message. Not now.

Taking another deep breath, he opened Sander’s message. 

Robbe: Fine, we can talk. Come to my house in an hour.

Sander: I’ll be there. 

……

After Robbe had showered and straightened up his room, he took a deep breath. He had no idea how he was going to survive this interaction with Sander, after all that had happened between them. They’d kissed. ALOT. They’d been naked, for heaven’s sake. Robbe groaned, flopping back down on his bed. What was happening to him? The world was turning upside down.

With that, there was a knock on the door. He could hear Jens shuffling to get it, but he raced to the door, sliding past Jens. 

“I got it, I got it.” 

Jens just looked at him, yawning. “What the hell?”

“It’s...it’s uhm...for me. I’ll get it.”

Jens stared blankly. “You’re being weird.” But he just went off towards the kitchen, yawning again.

Taking a breath, Robbe opened the door. 

Sander stood there, his hair also wet, clearly brushed into submission. He had on a cream-colored sweater, which shocked Robbe. He looked good. 

“Robbe. Hey.” He smiled, taking a deep breath.

Robbe just stood there, unsure of what to say.

Sander smiled again. “Soooo….can I come in or….?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, come in.” Robbe opened the door wider so Sander could enter. 

Glancing towards the kitchen, where Jens was making coffee, glasses clinking, he motioned to the hallway. 

“Let’s go to my room and talk,” Robbe spoke quietly.

“Sure, yeah,” Sander nodded. “Lead the way.”

Robbe walked hesitantly toward his room, opening the door for Sander. He entered, looking around. 

“Nice place,” he commented, looking at Robbe with a wink. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Robbe smiled, feeling flushed all of the sudden.

Sander went and sat on the edge of the bed. Robbe followed.

Sander cleared his throat. “So, I know what happened last night surprised you. I know it surprised me.” He smiled to himself. “I just wanted to say that….I’m not sorry.”

“What?” Robbe looked up at him, confused.

Sander was firm, sure. “I said, I’m not sorry. For what happened. For kissing you.”

“You’re….not sorry….” Robbe repeated slowly, trying to understand.

“I wanted to kiss you and I did. And I don’t regret it. I know we were drunk, but I think you wanted to kiss me, too.”

Robbe felt heat rise to his cheeks. He spoke quietly. “Sander…it doesn’t make sense. We don’t make sense. At all. We are at each other’s throats constantly.”

“So what?” Sander asked, laughing. “Maybe what we thought was hate was just passion.”

“Passion?” Robbe choked. “Passion? We can’t stand each other! We drive each other completely crazy!”

“Well,” Sander began, biting his lip. “That, I guess, is true. You do drive me crazy. But not for the reasons you think.”

What? 

“Sander, what are you—” but Robbe stopped as Sander turned towards him, sliding a hand to cup his jaw. 

“You do drive me completely insane, Robbe,” he said gently. “But in a way I want to feel all the time. That kiss was….” he put his hands together over his head, imitating a mind-blown gesture, “pppppffffffeeeewww.”

Robbe’s lips were curling up in a smile he couldn’t hide. He felt warm. But something nagged at him.

“Sander, I can’t do this,” he admitted quickly, before he could stop himself. “I know this sounds silly and stupid, but….there’s someone else.”

Sander sat back. “Who, Nathan?”

Robbe shook his head. “No, not Nathan. You ruined that one, remember?” He slugged Sander’s arm.

“No, it’s….” Robbe put his head down, embarrassed. “It’s someone I don’t even actually know.” He covered his face in his hands. “I know, it’s so stupid. But I think I really care about this person.”

To Robbe’s surprise, Sander didn’t laugh. Or come up with some stupid insult. Or even seem surprised by his revelation at all. 

“Okay,” he began. “So, who is he? Where did you meet him?” 

“Well,” Robbe said, blushing again. “We met online. On a stupid street art blog. We talk through DMs all day, everyday. Yesterday, when we ran into each other, I was waiting for him. We were supposed to meet each other for the first time in person. But….he stood me up.”

“Hmmm,” Sander sounded. “Sounds like a real asshole.”

Robbe laughed. “He’s not, though! Sure, I was devastated that he ditched me...and then, we kissed...and, everything is just a mess.” He fell back on the bed again, hands over his face.

Sander was silent for a minute. “So did he apologize? For last night?”

Robbe sat up slightly. “Well, yeah. He messaged me again saying he was sorry, and that it wasn’t me.”

“So?” Sander asked, probing for more. 

“So what?” Robbe asked.

“So, what are you going to say? Are you going to forgive him?” Sander asked.

“Well...I don’t know,” Robbe admitted. “I want to. You’re going to insult me mercilessly for the rest of time for saying this, but...I think Earthling is my soulmate.”

Sander grinned. “I’m sorry, who?”

Robbe laughed, embarrassed again. 

“Earthlingoddity, it’s his handle. I just call him Earthling.”

Sander looked down at his lap, biting his lip to hide a grin.

“I knew you would make fun of me!” Robbe shoved Sander. “I knew it!”

“No!” Sander held his hands up innocently. “I’m not making fun of you! I think it’s cute. I mean, it’s a Bowie reference, he’s obviously got good taste.”

Robbe smiled. “Yeah, he does,” he said.

“So,” Sander continued. “If you think this guy is your soulmate, I think you should talk to him. Give him another chance.”

“What should I say?” Robbe asked. “Do I ask him to meet up again?”

Sander thought for a minute. “I think you need to give him an ultimatum. His last chance.”

“An ultimatum?” Robbe asked.

“Yep.” Sander said, scooting to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Take out your phone.”

“What, now?” Robbe asked incredulously. 

“Yes, now!” Sander said firmly. “C’mon. Get your phone.”

Robbe shook his head. Of course, his rival, the guy he’d made out with last night, was now helping him attempt to snag a man. He officially understood nothing.

Taking out his phone, he pulled up Earthling’s message. 

“So what do I say?” He looked at Sander.

“Just say….” Sander began, looking off in thought. “You hurt me yesterday. This is your one chance to make it up to me. Meet me tonight or we’re done with this. No more talking, no more messages. This is it. Your last chance” Damn. Looking at Sander once more, he typed it out. Taking a deep breath, he hit Send.

“Oh no, oh no, I sent it. What now. What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m desperate?” Robbe rattled off, starting to hyperventilate.

Then, Sander’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out. 

“Sorry, hold on a sec,” he said. “I gotta respond to this.”

“Sander!” Robbe whined. “Focus! I need you! If he responds, you have to help me!”

“Don’t worry. Robin,” Sander said with a smirk. “He will. And I will.”

Sander typed quickly, then put his phone back down on the bed. He was hiding another smirk.

Robbe glared at him. “Sander! Are you texting Britt right now? Should I remind you that we’re focusing on me right now? Or should I remind you that you kissed me last night? What is wrong with you?!”

Sander shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t texting Britt, Robbe, calm down.” 

But Robbe ignored this as his phone buzzed again.

“Oh my god, okay, it’s him,” he cleared his throat. “This is what he said.” 

Now, Sander was laughing. Loudly. 

“Sander!” Robbe whined again.

Sander tried to stifle a laugh with his palm. “Okay,” he tried to turn the laugh into a cough. “Right, I’m focused. Well, what did he say?”

Robbe swiped and opened the message.

“He said...I choose you, Robin. Always, one hundred percent, forever.”

Robbe’s phone fell in his lap as he looked up at Sander. 

“Sander…..what kind of joke are you—”

Sander just shook his head and grinned. “Don’t call me, Sander. From now on, you have to call me Earthling.”   

Then, Sander was crawling over to Robbe, pushing him back down on the bed.

Hovering over him, he spoke gently. 

“When I saw you with Nathan at the party last week, I got jealous. You looked so hot and I knew I was starting to want you. It scared me. I knew you hated me. But I did. I wanted you. Trust me, Britt and I aren’t together. I just wanted to make you jealous. And that obviously backfired,” he said, laughing.

He continued to Robbe’s breathless stare. “Then I found out it was you I had been messaging when I borrowed your phone at the bar yesterday,” he said. “I saw the messages I’d sent you as Earthling. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe Robin was the boy I’d been talking to. The boy I’d been falling in love with, online and in real life. I was going to tell you right there, but you were so mad at me and so cute and I couldn’t resist trying to see if I could get you to fall in love with me, too. As Sander. And after that kiss, I knew what we had was real. Whether over text or in a freezing cold pool, it was real.”

Robbe blinked in disbelief. Was he really hearing this? It wasn’t some colossal joke Sander was playing on him? 

“Sander….” he said carefully. “Is that true? Is that really—” but before he could finish, Sander was kissing him again, winding a hand into his hair, immersing him completely, deeply into him.

It was true. 

.....

So, telling their friends about their relationship had been interesting. 

First, Jen had walked in on them, sloshing coffee all over himself when he saw Sander pulling off Robbe’s shirt. That had been a hard one to explain.

But the weirdest part was that no one had really seemed surprised. Sure, Jens was taken back initially, but as they sat in the kitchen sharing coffee (after Robbe had reclaimed his shirt and gotten dressed), Robbe sitting on Sander’s lap, Jens had smiled at them like a proud dad. 

You’re like yin and yang, he’d said. Somehow you two just fit.

And they did. In so many ways. Their minds, their souls, their bodies...

They just fit. 

[ramp-it-up]

Fresh Squeeze, Chapter 7

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Lots of pics, Cursing, Angsty Angst, Mention of Death, Lots of Plot, Anthony Ramos, Afro Samurai, Clothes altering, SMUT: Fingering, Thumb sucking, Fluff. 18+.

Word Count: 6.6 K 

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal and nursing his broken heart post pandemic. 

Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, movie star.  They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were chaotic. She knows now that wasn’t love. 

Read the Previous Chapter.

--------

Thursday night/Friday, May 6-7, 2023

After Daveed heard what you said, he stood stock still, trying to decide whether or not to go back into your room.  He clenched his fists and concentrated intensely to not break the fucking door down. All he needed was for you to call his name…

You stood in the middle of your room, naked except for the towel.  You closed your eyes and prayed for strength to not go running after him. You had to stay in control.  

But if you saw him turn your door handle, you would fuck him right there on the floor of your room.

After a few minutes, you both turned around and went about your business, Daveed to his room and you to the shower. You thought of Daveed in the shower and fell into bed still thinking of him. 

What did you want for your birthday, if not Daveed?

Daveed, alone in his bed, thought of all the feelings involved.  He knew you were fragile, but it seemed you were relaxing a bit, deciding to trust him if just a little.

He resolved to give a little bit of chase. You just needed to feel safe and accepted. 

You dreamt of each other so deeply that all that was left when you woke up was a wisp of a memory.

------

Daveed did not sleep long.  Even though it was after 4 o’clock when he went to sleep, he was up by 10, hard on raging under the sheets.  

He’d be damned if he jerked off, but he remembered your voice through the door of the room last night, and he had to strip the sheets away, as he was making a mess at the thought of you.  

He decided to go for a run on the beach. He pulled on some basketball shorts and decided to go shirtless, as the temperature outside was already 80 degrees.

Daveed ran with his music blasting in his ears.  He played out song lyrics and lined up preparation for upcoming roles.  Before he knew it, he was three miles down the beach from the house.

He turned around as the tropical heat and the sun was getting to be a bit much. He went back in and went to his room to shower and put some clothes on. You didn’t know the sight you were missing.

When you woke up at Noon, you pulled on Mark's t-shirt and basketball shorts and made your way to the kitchen which had floor to ceiling windows and glass doors facing the ocean. It was breathtaking. The doors were open and the ocean breeze felt amazing.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" 

You turned to see Daveed at the stove, greeting you and smiling. 

He was wearing an orange Oakland tank top and some pajama pants slung low on his hips. You smiled at his hair, which was tied up in two curly puffs at the front, with the back down in his wild curls.  

Even though it was an odd hairstyle for a grown man, you knew the curl life. And it did not take away from his masculinity.  

Not. At. All.

Besides, his curly puffs gave you a place to focus rather than on his well-muscled arms.  

Daveed’s hair reminded of when your mom did your hair only to have Dell try to pull your pony tails out as soon as she dismissed you from the kitchen chair. 

Ya’ll would get into so much trouble for fighting yet again. The thought gave you a warm feeling at the memory as you smiled wider and patted your own pineappled hair. 

‘Damn, her smile is a killer,’ Daveed thought as he watched you look around the kitchen for other signs of life. Now he was glad that he couldn’t sleep, and that he decided to be productive.  

He would have the chance to talk to you. As friends. Yeah.  He nodded to himself, trying to emphasize that last thought.  Friends.

Fuck.  He was in serious trouble.

Noticing that you and he were the only two humans in the kitchen and sniffing the air for the delicious smell that was wafting over from the stove, you finally greeted Daveed.

"Good morning, D.  Looks like everyone else is still knocked the fuck out.” 

Your other four friends were nowhere to be found.

You laughed, yawned and stretched.  Daveed turned back to the stove, cursing to himself. You were so damn fine.

“Calm the fuck down boy,” he whispered.

“What’s that?” 

You ventured over to see Diggs making French toast and bacon. Your stomach rumbled.

"I said sit down. Sounds like you’re hungry, haha. We gotta feed you. Grab some fruit over there and I'll serve you right up."

You grabbed something and sat down at the bar facing the windows. When Diggs turned to offer you some fresh oj, you didn't notice him watching you eat your banana. 

Your lips were a problem for him. When you looked away from the ocean, Daveed turned back to the stove and looked over his shoulder to smile at you.

His smile made you feel some kind of way.

"Why do they call you ‘Smiley?’" 

Daveed laughed, a sound that was quite nice.

“Because I started out as a clown. A professional clown.” 

You tilted your head, convinced that he was fucking with you. But maybe, he and Rafa always talked about the random shit they did to make money before they made it.

When he winked and turned back to the stove to the food, you just shook your head and ate the rest of your banana, positive that Daveed was fucking with you.

Meanwhile, Diggs was trying to stop himself from thinking about fucking with you. He did not need to watch you eat a banana. He licked his lips as he thought of how your lips tasted.

You smiled at Diggs’ broad back. He seemed different this morning.

He turned to plate some food for you and smiled again, shaking his head.

“Most times it’s a nervous tick.”

You were confused. “What’s a nervous tick?”

“My smile. I'm actually a really shy person.  Most times my smile is a defense mechanism.”

You were not sure about all that. Daveed had to know how he affected people.

“I’m not sure I believe that. Man. You are famous for performing in front of hundreds of people a night.  You’re on tv, movies, for goodness sake! You do live rap shows with your shirt off. I ain’t boo boo the fool.”

Daveed’s laugh filled the kitchen.

“How many clipping. shows did you watch on YouTube?  Or did you only watch the ones where I'm shirtless?” 

His look was hungry, and surprised, like he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud. Then he barrelled on.

“I am shy, but I get my energy from crowds. I'm an introverted extrovert. Ya feel me?"

You nodded, understanding. You noticed that he was fiddling with the spatula he had in his hand. Uncertain again. He really was awkward. It was sweet. And hot.

Diggs continued.

"When I perform, I'm probably under the influence."

Pause.

"Hold up. What?" 

You flashed back to Mark. You couldn’t be around this again. Daveed caught your panicked look.

"Oh, it’s not like that, haha."  

That laugh and that smile. It automatically put you at ease. 

"It just takes a little. Drink; like last night at Criag’s Adrenaline; when I used to run track. Now it's performing." 

Daveed watched you carefully, gauging whether or not to continue. Fuck it, he thought. He felt as comfortable with you as when he first met Rafa.

"You know what the best drug is?" 

You cocked your head to the side, intrigued despite yourself. That smile. It was angelic and so opposite of what came out of his mouth next.

"Fucking. You know? When it's that good good. Or even better, that feeling when you haven't smashed, but the sexual tension is everything?"

There was suddenly little air in the room. You had to open your mouth to get oxygen. Oh. You knew the feeling alright. You gulped down your orange juice and continued eating.

"Hard-dick dopamine delivers every time." 

He said it so casually. He was playing innocent, but he was going for it.

You choked on your bacon. Daveed came up beside you.

"Raise your arms above your head.”

You turned toward him, held your arms up and he helped you, his hands holding your hands up. You stopped coughing pretty quickly but you stared at each other with your small wrists in his large hands. Daveed shifted on his feet and cleared his throat.  

“You good?" His voice had to be a couple of octaves lower. 

You gaped for a second, mouth still open, then laughed and nodded, pulling your arms slightly to get him to release them.  Daveed let go, stepped back and laughed along.

"But yeah. Back to what we were talking about...It just takes a little high, and I'm a completely different person." 

You watched him as he crossed his chocolate arms. 

"So what's your drug? Your motivation?"

That was something you didn't want to think about too hard. You tried to avoid his eyes. You cleared your throat and took another drink.  

“You got any vodka for this orange juice?”

-------

“C’mon. I made you this gourmet breakfast and everything…” You could hear the smile in his voice even though you were looking down. You didn’t feel pressed, you just felt like telling D this would open up so many things to him.

"Well, I don't do hard drugs if that's what you mean. No pills, or coke. Don't need molly," you winked and filled your mouth with French toast. 

"Gosh. This food is amazing!"

Daveed could barely make out the words through the food in your mouth.  He shook his head.

"Thanks, but don’t play me Lindy. Is french toast your motivation?"

Diggs wasn't letting you off the hook. You thought about it.  He was being very cool, and you felt safe with him.  You plunged ahead.

"I think about how fragile life is. How it is not guaranteed from day to day. How it can be taken away in a moment." 

You tried to push the emotions down and took a deep breath.

"I lost my twin brother when we were 17 in a car accident. I think a lot about what he didn't get to do. And that motivates me to do better with my life."

Daveed just looked down at the counter, mortified that he had pushed you to share something so personal. Then he finally looked up at you.

"That's a good reason to be motivated. I'm sorry for your loss." He looked down at his plate again.  "Look, I didn't mean to press you...."

Telling Daveed about Dell just felt right, even though you really didn’t know him like that.

"Don't apologize.  You didn't know. And I'm glad I told you." 

Diggs looked up at her and smiled. You smiled back.

He got up and stood next to you to grab your plate. Daveed smelled like coconut. It was nice. You closed your eyes and sniffed him.

"You done?" He was laughing at you.

"What? Oh, yeah. Thanks."

"Where is the fooood?"

Craig padded in the kitchen, with a wide smile. 

"There you are." You grinned at your cousin.

"Goood morningggg peopleeeee! I smell the Diggs Special. Hey. You two fuck last night?”

Rafa came in already on one this morning. Unlike his best friend, his confidence seemed to seldom waver.

He ignored your shocked looks and Craig’s laughter and went to get some food.  He continued as if he just walked in and said, “Good morning.”

"Ay, D, you gonna go check out this venue in town with me?"

Daveed shook his head at his friend. But he was chilling.

"Sure, what up?"

"I figure we can turn up on stage tonight"

"Cool. Let me eat and chill a little bit before we go." He looked at his watch. "About two?"

"Dope."

Jasmine walked into the kitchen. 

“Lindy needs to go shopping. We should come with.  You down, Craig?”

“You know it. That reminds me, we gotta fix you up.  Start destroying Daveed’s pants, since Lindy won’t do it for real.”

“Y’all gonna get enough…” you were getting swole.

“Calm down Ms. Fussy pants. Let’s go.”

Craig grabbed some shears from the kitchen and went toward Lindy’s room.

When you got to your room, Craig gave you the business.

"You are so tiresome."

“What?”

“You just need to fuck the man. We are all tired of feeling this sexual tension. It’s bothersome.”

“Leave me alone, Craig.” You watched as he worked his magic on the jeans. “What if I don’t want t…”

“Lie.”

“What if I’m not read…”

“Fuck that.”

“What if he hurts me? What if I hurt him?”

Craig put the shears down and turned toward you.  

“Listen, stop over thinking and do what you feel. What you want. Turn up. It’s your birthday. Anybody can see that man is all about you.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. But you deserve…” He didn’t say it. 

“You deserve. Now put these clothes on, bitch.”

----- 

You emerged from the room and no one paid any particular attention to you, no one but Daveed. 

His eyes swept from your feet, which were housed in some of Jasmine’s high heeled sandals, to your long, brown legs which were highly moisturized and seemed to go on and get better from your juicy calves to your generous, muscular thighs. 

Craig had cut and distressed some jeans that Daveed didn't particularly love to garments that he felt he could not live without. 

On you. 

Damn, Daveed gaped as he remembered that you probably didn’t have any underwear on. 

His eyes moved up to notice how his blue Oaklandish t-shirt was huge, but the way you had it tied up let it accentuate your waist, breasts and shoulders.

‘Good God,’ he thought. As his eyes moved up to yours, he saw that you noticed his reaction and were smiling at him. He smiled back. He wanted you to wear nothing but his destroyed and altered clothing for the rest of your life.

“OKAYYYYYYY, you look cute as hell.” Jasmine admired your outfit.  

“Thank you!”  Craig responded. 

“Yes, you did that!” Jas laughed.  “And the model ain’t half bad.” Jasmine got up, took your hand and had you twirl.

“Got DAMN!”  

Everyone turned and looked at Rafa as he yelled.  He put his hand over his mouth. “Oh, did I say that out loud?”

Daveed was so grateful that you did not have any of your own clothes. Your ass in those distressed shorts were everything. He gulped and you and Jasmine giggled.

“Be quiet!” 

Anthony shushed everybody and then gave you a double take. 

“Nice, Lindy,” but then he turned back to the tv. He was used to Jasmine’s glorious ass, so he was nonplussed. 

“Let’s just finish this episode before we go. It’s my favorite,” he said as Jasmine went back over to sit down with him.

Black Dynamite was on the tv while they were waiting. It was the alien episode. 

Ant and Jas were curled up in a big white overstuffed chair, Craig was on the other,while Daveed and Rafa were on the couch. You sat down in between them. 

You leaned your head on Rafa’s shoulder, looking at Daveed. Rafa put his arm around you, watching the show, as you put your legs up on Digg’s knees. 

You didn’t see Rafa wink at Daveed, who just smiled at you and turned toward the screen. After a couple of minutes, he put his hand on your shins, looking over to see if it was okay.  

Your chill smile indicated your assent.  He started lightly rubbing, looking down at your caramel skin. Your legs were so soft. 

Diggs peeked up at you relaxing and accepting his touch, and snuggling into Rafa’s embrace.  The way you were looking at him was everything, even if you were in Rafa’s arms. 

Rafa was his boy. And he knew what you wanted. As for Daveed and you, you two were watching each other and not the screen.

Daveed decided to move his hand up your leg, but a flash went off and he stopped. He hadn’t noticed that the show was over and that Craig was taking pictures. 

"This is so cute! Family love!" 

He was cheesing as he snapped a wide-angle selfie and some pics. Jasmine came and sat on your lap, the couch becoming a crazy twister game. 

Anthony came behind the couch and snuck in the pics with the crazy eyes flipped a double bird behind Rafa’s head. You were all being so silly.

"What is this, a orgy?” Rafa with the jokes. 

“Not that I’m saying there’s anything wrong with that.” That devilish smile. Everybody laughed. 

“Y’all are some beautiful people, but ain’t nobody got time for that. Let's go."

Anthony seemed hype.  He slapped his hands together and then rubbed them.

“Okay, we have a choice, since we are going into town we can drive….” he looked around at everyone.  “OR, we can go over in my new boat!”

Everyone sensed that there wasn’t really a choice, so they all said, “Boat!” and laughed.  

Anthony’s grin was wide as fuck.  Jasmine harshed the flow.

“The only thing is, it only has four seats…”  Everyone looked around and counted six people. Ant spoke up.  

“I’ll be piloting, so I will stand, but it takes about 20-30 minutes, soooooooo…..”

“Sooooooo, Lindy… would you mind sitting on D’s lap? We need to get creative.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she smirked. 

“Would that be okay with you Diggs?”

Rafa coughed “Setup” into his hand.

You looked at Jasmine and Anthony and Daveed, who was looking at you expectantly.  You were in agreement with Rafa, but you weren’t mad. It seemed that everyone was looking at you.

“Sure…” said Daveed whose eyes were fixed on you.  “Is that okay with you, Lindy?” 

You smiled and nodded your head.  “I’m cool with it.”   Daveed smiled wide, eyes crinkling with happiness.

Jasmine and Anthony led you all out onto the back deck, where you and Jas took off your heels, and down to the beach, a little ways away to the boat dock.  You and Daveed brought up the rear of the little ensemble.

You were watching the waves and the beautiful surroundings, trying not to focus on the awkwardness. 

Daveed was watching you.

“You good Lindy?” 

Daveed’s voice broke your reverie.

“Yeah.” 

You two stopped and looked at each other.  Your head was tilted back, looking into D’s eyes. He smiled down at you and you felt warm.  Must have been the sun.

“Heyyyy youuu guuuysss!”  

Daveed nodded his head toward the boat. 

“Leggo.”

You smiled and followed him. Ant was at the helm, Jasmine and Rafa were at the front, and Craig was in the second row.  

Daveed stepped on the boat and turned around offering you his hand. You flashed back to that January night.

You swallowed, smiled and tried to board. And immediately fell when you misjudged the deck while stepping on the boat.

Daveed helped you up, chuckling, while Craig howled and Rafa shook his head. Jasmine just stared, open mouthed, said “That’s not funny,” then burst out laughing.

Anthony was busy getting the boat ready but had a grin on his face.

“Fuck all y’all!”

“No, not all of us, just D…”

“Shut the fuck up Craig.”  You gave him the gas face and then turned and smiled at Daveed.

Daveed was seated and spread his arms out so you could sit down.  Anthony started the engine, so you got settled in on his lap as carefully as you could.  

“You okay?” you asked him softly, turning on his lap and feeling the muscles in his thighs. And maybe something else. 

You tried to adjust your shorts to cover your core adequately, because like this, he would easily be able to ascertain your situation.

Daveed looked into your eyes and whispered, “I’m perfect.”

You agreed silently as you stared back into his big browns. 

You were thrown against Daveed’s chest as the boat gained speed. You were able to feel his abs through his t-shirt and your rear shifted and came into contact with his crotch. 

‘This is going to be a fun ride,’ you thought, smiling to yourself.

Daveed put his arms around you, one at your waist and one on your legs, to try and hold you steady.  The movement of the boat allowed him to feel you, just as he wanted.  

He turned his head and looked at the water, concentrating on keeping his hands in neutral locations.

Jas looked over at you.  “You okay?” she mouthed.

You smiled and nodded, giggling a little.

D turned his head back quickly to look at your face. You looked at him and winked. He smiled and unknowingly started stroking your leg.

You stopped laughing and all of your attention turned to his hand on your leg. You adjusted yourself in Daveed’s lap. You were getting a little moist and could feel his cock becoming hard. 

Your lips parted and you started breathing a little faster.

The feel of you on his lap was what was up. There was a definite heat from your core. Daveed happened to look down at his t- shirt on you and saw that your nipples were hard.  

All he wanted was for them to be in his mouth and to be enveloped in your heat.

Daveed turned his head to look at everyone else to see if they noticed you two, and his lips brushed your shoulder.  He heard your sharp intake of breath.

Geez, he felt like he could take you on the boat in front of everyone. By the way your body was reacting, he thought that you would let him.  

He finally noticed he was stroking your leg and stopped himself.  He sat up straighter and tried to get control.

You closed your eyes and moaned a little when Daveed pulled away.  All you wanted at that moment was him inside you. When you opened your eyes, Daveed was looking at you.

“You sure you’re comfortable? I could sit on the boat deck if you want.”

“No!” you said a little too loudly.  Craig smirked at you.

You blushed, then relaxed again in D’s arms. How could a moment be so awkward, yet so perfect?.  

After about 20 minutes, the view of the pretty little town of Isabela became clear.  It looked like a neat spot to spend the day, but you were sad that the boat ride was over.

As the boat came to a stop and tied off at the dock, you and Daveed let everyone get off before them, then D climbed out, turned around and held out his hand for you.  

You took it and stepped out onto the dock. You didn’t let go and Daveed didn’t either. No one said anything, just exchanged glances as you and Daveed concentrated on being casual with it.  

Truth be told, each of your hearts were pounding in your chest.  

This is another world. You could be free and do what you wanted to do.  And what you wanted to do was to hold Daveed’s hand.

Daveed’s chest was puffed out, proud that you decided to show affection. In front of the crew. 

This was a big step but he tried not to make it a big deal.  

You strolled together and admired the architecture, holding his hand until you walked to the shopping center on Barbosa Street.

They were going to check out a venue to do a show later in the weekend. Daveed didn’t want to let you go.

Rafa and Ant just walked on and let Daveed handle his business. 

“Go to work.” 

You smiling at him was everything, as Daveed played with your hand, moving it up to lace his fingers in yours and press your palm upright.

Jas and Craig went into the store.

“It’s not work. Having fun creating with friends…”  

Daveed really wanted to create fun with you. He felt like he should kiss you goodbye, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Bye Daveed.  See you in a few.” 

You laughed, cause it was like he was going off to war. This was too much.

“Bye Linden…” 

He finally let your hand go and then backed up the street in the direction that his bros went, not wanting to let you out of his sight. 

When you disappeared into the store, he turned and ran to catch up.

------

Rafa and Anthony were talking to the club owner in Spanish, Daveed following along, but not very well.  He thought they were talking about lighting and sound, but couldn’t get the entire conversation.

“Tienes tu propio gaffer o tenemos que hacer nuestra propia iluminación?”

“Nosotros tenemos un capataz, pero él cobra una tarifa separada.”

Daveed zoned out and planned how he was going to get closer to you.

Rafa turned to him and said something, and Daveed nodded. 

“Oh, absolutely.”

 He had not one clue what was happening in this club right now.  His mind was on you.  Rafa and Ant looked at each other.

“So, when they bring up the pigs in tutus, we cut one open and smear the blood all over you…” 

Anthony wanted to see if Daveed was paying attention.

Daveed smiled. “Sounds dope.”

Rafa and Ant shook their heads at him.

“Listen dude, your head is not in the game right now. You need to get right.”

They didn't have to tell him twice. 

------

You were going to town.  Craig and Jasmine had abandoned you and were already down at Pinkheart and Loft.  You were not moving from H & M.

You didn’t mind being alone in the store, as you minored in shopping in undergrad. You were in the zone. And zoned out from what was happening with Daveed. You needed some headspace.

Your hands were full of clothes and your heart was feeling light as you headed toward the dressing room. 

You could barely see over your pile when the cute top you just recently grabbed off a clearance rack fell on the floor as you rushed ahead.  You walked past it before you realized, then went back to try and pick it up.

You jumped as soon as you turned around.

Daveed was standing there with your top in his hand.

"Drop something?"  That smile was everything.

You stared at him wide-eyed. 

‘Fuck. Me.’ Daveed thought. 

"Here, let me take your pile, I'll help you to the register."

You smiled at him again. He'd do anything to see that smile forever.

"Oh, ok. Thanks." 

You handed over the clothes to reveal a handful of sandals underneath which you kept. Daveed slowed himself to appreciate you fully.

“I really like that shirt on you.” Daveed bit his lip. “And those shorts..”

You saw him checking you out and you watched him, your eyes fixed on his lips. 

You recalled the talk about what mouths could do from months ago but were thinking about his succulent lips. And you couldn’t stop.

You needed to remain in control.

"I'm not going to the register, I'm going to try these on.  You can drop them at the fitting room." 

Daveed looked around to tear his eyes away from you.  He caught you checking him out when he swung his eyes back around.  His stomach flipped a little.  

He smiled.

"Well."

You were at the fitting room, the attendant eyeing Daveed as he gave you a number and pointed you to a stall.  

You took the 10 garments you were allowed and started to go into to your fitting room, looking back at him over your shoulder. You disappeared into the room.

Daveed just stood there.

He made a decision.

You stood there for a minute, shook, before you thought you had yourself together. You were about to take off his shirt when Daveed opened the door at came in.

The look on your face was everything.  The wide eyes, that mouth in an "O." So damn fuckable.

"The guy out there said I could bring you the rest of your clothes."

That was true, after Daveed paid him 20 dollars.

He got close to you, reached behind you and put the clothes on the hook.

You could smell him. He smelled like the coconut and his cologne, and your dreams.  You closed your eyes.

Daveed wanted your lips. He wanted to own them, to command them, to hear them command him.

You opened your eyes and he backed up.  He tried to contain himself despite your proximity.

“Look. Daveed. That night. The launch party. I was wasted. I usually don’t lose control like that… I don’t want you to think that’s really me.”

You were keyed up and stressed because you were losing control.  He could tell.

God, he wanted to put his hands on you. In a good way. You’d calm down then.

He knew you had baggage.  And that he should probably stay away.  But he didn't want to.  Hell, he had matching luggage. 

"Well, I think it is you. I have a theory that people are more their real selves when they are drunk or high. Inhibitions are gone. They get to act out like they want to. Do what they want to."

Daveed looked into your eyes.

"What do you want to do, Lindy?"

You wanted to do a lot of things.  To Daveed. In this fitting room. You almost gave it all up for him right there.

Then you got mad. At Daveed or your feelings, you didn’t know.

"That's just it, adults don't get to do what they want to do all the time. It's called adulting, you know. Responsibilities...?" 

You fired back at him.

He opened his mouth and spoke.  To himself as well as you.

"Chill."

He said it gently, not raising his voice at all, but the force behind it made you shut the fuck up. 

Your knees were weak and the small of your back was acting up again. Your body was reacting without your permission. You shivered.

Daveed could tell you were reacting to him physically.  But he wanted inside your mind, not just your body. He was going to give you some space. 

He backed toward the door of the fitting room. Leaning against it, his long body in jeans and t-shirt delectable.

“What do you want, Linden?” 

His voice was deeper, more commanding now. You swallowed. You were exhausted from fighting it. Maybe you could have a taste.

“I-I want a kiss. Just a kiss.”

Daveed felt triumphant.  He smiled and looked down at his shoes, then back up at you.

“Come get it.”  

He was going to let you make the first move.

You bit your lip through a smile.  You walked the five steps toward him in slow motion it seemed, as you raised up on your tiptoes to reach up and peck his lips, your hands behind your back.  

Your lips met his pillowy goodness and you leaned back to look into his eyes.  

Then, you put your hands on his shirt, tracing his abs all the way up and going back in for more, Daveed’s tongue prodding it’s way between your lips, and your tongue dancing with his.

You moaned as Daveed put his hand on your hips and then slid them up the sides of his shirt, skimming your breasts, and resting under your arms as you two went for it. 

He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he backed you into the wall. 

He palmed your ass in the shorts, his long fingers reaching inside the distressed rips and squeezing your ass. He spread you apart and squeezed you closed, so that his fingers barely grazed your core and drove you crazy.  

When you reached up and pulled his hair, that’s when he stopped kissing you, leaned his head against your forehead and breathed, “Fuck, Lindy. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You just looked at him and craned your neck for another kiss which he couldn’t deny, but then he stopped and let you down.

“What do you want Daveed?”

Daveed put his hand on the wall above your head. You looked up at it and at him and he had to remember to breathe.

“Fuck it. Linden, I want you. You know that.” 

You raised your eyebrow and smiled up at him, then bit your lip, playful. Daveed’s throat became dry.

“And I think that I know that you want me too. But I know it’s hard.”

Your eyes swept down his torso to his pants, and damn, well…if it wasn’t hard right now.

He cleared his throat.  “It’s hard for YOU.”  You smiled wide. 

He rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean. It’s hard for you to be vulnerable, but Linden, I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

The way he looked in your eyes. You couldn’t go there with him, but the physical was okay for now. You decided to indulge yourself.  It was almost your birthday.

“What if I want you... to hurt me?” 

The innocent look in your eyes masked the devilish intent in your words. Daveed, stomach flipped again and he screwed his eyes shut. He masked a whimper and opened his eyes again.

“Huh. Don’t play with me Linden.” The menacing tone of his voice was making you wet.

“But what if I want to play with you, Daveed?” 

You reached for his belt buckle; Daveed stopped you, grabbed your hand and put it above your head against the wall, his arms now caging you in. 

You raised your chin, meeting his glare with yours. His eyes were fucking you so rough right now. You had to open your mouth to breathe, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip.

Daveed was looking as if he was going to devour you..  That mouth. He wanted to take it, but he restrained himself.  He had to know.

“Tell me. What. You. Want.”

You held his stare, the air around you crackling with energy.

“I want you Daveed.”

His smile was wide. Then he bent down, grabbed your thighs in his hand, picked you up and carried you to the mirror and pressing you against it, running his hands back down your body to your ass, cupping and grabbing it to memorize how it felt.

“We are NOT about to do this in the fitting room at H & M.  But somebody is going to cum. Right now.”

You kissed him as he ran his hands under your shirt to your nipples, pinching and rolling them in between his fingers as he kissed you again.

You started whimpering in your throat as you let him make you wet. 

“God, Daveed.”  

You kissed him again, but he did not stop what he was doing to your breasts.

“What?”  Daveed asked when you came up for air. “You wet?’

“Fuck yes.”  

You moaned as you threw your head back and huffed.

Daveed pulled his shirt up off your waist and exposed your breasts.  

“So fucking beautiful.”  

His mouth watered at the sight. Daveed licked his lips and leaned toward those beauties.

“Can I?”  Daveed paused.

“Please!” You whispered.  

He leaned down. His mouth got so close that you could feel his hot breath. Then he paused again.

“Please what?”

At first you could not think of what he was talking about. Then you got it.

“Please. Sir.”  

Your eyes sparkled under your lashes as you looked down. His dick got even harder.

“Such a Good Girl for me Linden. Fuck.”  

Damn, he had the key to your pussy.

Your wetness was leaking down your thigh, now reaching the tips of Daveed’s fingers.

Daveed proceeded to alternate his attention to each breast. Delicately at first, he kissed your nipples, then suckled them gently, then harder, more insistently, until his mouth was pulling at them rhythmically and firmly, to the point of almost hurting you.

You were groaning pretty loudly and Daveed released a nipple from his tightly clamped lips with an almost painful pop.

“Suck this,” he said, and put his thumb in your mouth, pushing your head back into the mirror. 

While still suckling you, he then moved his other hand down your body to your crotch and stuck his hand into the jean shorts, his long fingers grazing your folds, feeling a small patch of hair and your oh so slick lower lips. 

He looked up at you and how you were enthusiastically sucking his thumb, fellating it like it could cum down your throat.  That sight and feeling, combined with how you felt at your core, was fucking him up.

“Damn, Lindy? All this. For me? You sure?”

You nodded vigorously, his thumb deep in your mouth as he kept you pressed to the mirror. He found your clit and started rubbing, while inserting a finger into you. 

You were so fucking tight, it was a stretch to fit two in, but you were humming with pleasure now, your eyes rolling back in your head.

You nodded again, and as he pried your mouth open, your sounds became louder before he put his mouth on yours and kissed you, muffling your moans as his thumb and fingers worked in concert to bring you close to the edge. 

You tried to reach for his belt buckle again and he moved out of the way.

“Unh unh, it’s not about me right now.” 

Daveed grunted. He spun you around and had you face the mirror, his hand in your mouth and your pants, and his cock pressed into your ass.

It was big and your eyes matched it. You two stared at each other.

“Look at us.  Don’t we look good together? This should be a thing.”  

You watched what he was doing to you and it did look hot as fuck.

He pressed deeper into you through your pants.  He could feel you quiver on his fingers. 

“You want it Lindy?”

Daveed could feel your clit harden and vibrate like a guitar string.

“Maybe later, but you could cum… not now…” 

You whimpered around his thumb, but he sped up.  

“Not now…”

You were almost crying now. Daveed was smiling, his teeth bared against the shell of your ear, whispering his commands to you.

“NNNNot now….” 

Your legs were shaking from holding it.

“Good girl. Now cum.”  

Daveed spoke into your ear and you exploded from the inside out. It had been months since anyone else made you cum.

He reached down and grabbed you under your knees and sat down with you on the fitting room bench. You were draped around him like a vine, exhausted.

D held you for a few, taking care of you and waiting for his hard on to go down. You clung to him, eyes closed, trying not to panic. This was good. You wanted this.  And you told him so.

“Me too, Lindy.”  

He helped you stand and stood himself, standing behind you and watching you straighten yourself out in the mirror.  He pulled you back against him, wrapping his arms around your front and putting his chin next to your forehead.

“I meant what I said, Linden.  We look good together.  Let this be a thing.”  

You just smiled at him as you thought about the weekend to come.

-------

Read the Next Chapter

Let me know if you like it!

Tagging: @sillyteecup  @ohsoverykeri  @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @curtainremote @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @biafbunny @id-do-it-for-free-babe 

Also, let me know if you want to be tagged!

[harryfeatgaga]

anyways im horny and i know it’s barely 1 o’clock but i must speak my mind 😌 last nights concept was hot, we love getting fucked while lazily laying on your belly but i just saw pics of harrys FAT COCK and honestly now im thinking of some nice soft sex where he’s on top of you and when you’re softly making out and feel him pull his cock out and it rests right against you, like on you for a second and it’s just...heavy. you FEEL it. his dick is big and you’re so 😋 every single time you feel it

JESUS FUCKING CHRISTTGJIRKFJIRFJNRFH OH MY GOD BITCH HOLY FUCKJKFMVNJRKFMVJK

[okk--maaan]

Hi Deja, Can you entertain: thigh riding & "Is someone needy?" + Ronnie? Thank you!! xoxo 🌹

Helllooo Rosie!! (I have a couple ideas about who you might be but I’m not sure so we’re not gonna talk about it, just like we’re not going to talk about how it’s almost 6 in the morning and I don’t know how that happened). I actually think this is the first full Ronnie thing I’ve written so that’s cool! BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!!!

WC: ~1.3k

CW: cold leftovers, a nickname for RC that may have already been used in regards to Ronnie, slightly Domme RC, a lil hint of a taste of my crackhead AU, teasing, orgasm denial

It was unusual for Ronnie to stay at the station later than six o’clock. Usually by six-ten he was latching the front door and padding around the house to find you, ready for a kiss and dinner. But tonight wasn’t one of those nights. Something about a spike in weird disappearances. And a spike in paperwork along with them. He had been texting you all day about how he already missed you. Already wanted you. There may or may not have been some suggestive pictures exchanged. And they may or may not have been coming mostly from your end. But that was okay. You liked teasing him. And he loved you teasing him.

Around ten o’clock, you realize he’s not going to be home for a while still and his dinner's getting cold. Maybe you’ll bring it to him. Along with another little surprise. You click off the silly show you’re not really watching, push off the couch, and head upstairs to the bedroom. You rummage through that special drawer in your dresser, searching for his favorites. Once you find them, you slip them -- and those heels that make your ass look like really good -- on. For a second you ponder what to put over your risque get up. You very well can’t just walk around town like this but you still needed something that would give you easy access, free movement. You figure that random tan trenchcoat you have for some reason is the best option. You take it from the hanger, wrap it around your body, and tie it around your waist snuggly.

As soon as you step over the threshold with Ronnie’s to go plate, the chilly air hits you, and you think maybe bare legs wasn’t the best choice. But you’re committed to it now. You walk to your car, turn it on, crank the heat, and wait for the goosebumps to go away. On your way to the police station, you think about all the messages Ronnie had sent you over the past twelve hours. About all the dick pics. Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as you imagine him inside you. In your mouth. In your pussy. In your ass. You have to force your eyes open and your head straight forward as those thoughts flash in your mind.

You’d never hear the end of it if you got pulled over.

You’re so caught up in your own fantasies that you don’t even notice that your limbs have driven you right to the station, purely out of instinct. Snapping yourself out of your daze, you turn the engine off, gather what you brought for your husband. Oh yeah. He’s going to like what you have for him. His treats.

You push back first into the door of the little municipal building to open it. When you turn, you see him sitting there in the empty pulpit. Nose deep in manila folders and loose papers. Such a good Sheriff’s Deputy, you think to yourself. So diligent. Although maybe not the best situational awareness. He doesn’t even look up until you call his name. “Oh! Hi Pumpkin! What are you doing here?” You lift the tin foil wrapped dish for him to see. But at the same time, you walk around the little swinging door separating the reception area and his desk, and the flash of your legs is enough to instantly make him forget about the food. “Just thought I’d bring you something,” you put an infliction on the last work to match the quirk in your eyebrow. “Whatcha got there?” he points to what you’re holding, but you know what he’s really asking. “Your favorite,” you respond, playing coy. He gulps, “Mushroom ravioli?” “Mhmm,” you reply softly, savoring the way his Adam’s apple bobs and the leather of his chair’s armrests squeaks under his strained grip.

Honestly, this is probably your favorite part. Getting him all hot and needy for you. It makes you gush. The thin fabric of your panties didn’t stand a chance.

As you make your way closer to him, you can already see the long prominent outline of his growing erection. Considering how long you’ve been in the station and how hard he already is, he’s been thinking about you for a while. Getting himself worked up. You can’t break your gaze from his lap as you click click click your way across the linoleum floor. You only look up to him once your shins make contact with the seat of his chair, once you're wedged in between his wide spread legs. Even behind the lenses of his glasses, you can see the desire shimmering in his honey flecked green eyes.

You set the now irrelevant plate on his desk and whisper, “Hi.” “Hi,” he breathes as he leans forward to wrap his thick fingers around your exposed thighs. “What’s under here Pumpkin?” he asks running his hot palms up your skin, bunching up the hem of your coat. He scoots to the edge of the chair, pulls your body closer, nuzzles his face into your soft belly. “Hmm. Wouldn’t you like to know, Officer?” you retort, a devilish smile playing at your lips as your own hands come up to twist in his dark locks. He nods into you and you grip his hair, yanking with just enough force to pull his head back so he’s looking at you. His red plump lips part and a desperate strangled breath blows past them. You tsk at him as you work one of his knees between your thighs and lower your already dripping core onto his leg. “Ohh Ronnie,” you coo. “Is someone needy?” you ask, at the same time dragging your wet heat over the starchy material of his uniform pants. You nudge his rigid cock just enough for him to loose an “Uhhnn”. Just enough for his head to knock into the backrest. Just enough for his fingertips to dig further into your supple flesh. You giggle a little and ask again, “Huh? What was that baby? I didn’t hear you.” “Yes,” he huffs out. “Yes Pumpkin. I need you.” “Mmhmm. That’s what I thought,” you smirk, even though he can’t see you now that his eyes have fluttered closed. You take that as you cue to go full force. To grind down hard back and forth over his strong thigh. Your own heavy head falls back in ecstasy. You work yourself over and over and over his muscles, relishing in the sensation of them flexing against your stiff clit. Even with the barrier of your underwear, you’re sure you’re leaving a dark slick streak on the front of his trousers. He’s going to have to re-pleat these. His hands work their way up to you ass, grasping and kneading there. Your nails dig into the now sticky skin of his scalp, anchoring yourself so you can go faster faster faster.

Ronnie's head snaps up, his eyes crossed and blurry as he searches for, seeks your gaze. “Pumpkin please. Please. Ple-mmhhh-please,” he begs pleads. He feels like he could cum just from this. Just from you rubbing your cunt on him. Just from your knee occasionally brushing against his ragingly blindingly hard cock.

But just as he’s ready to hoist you up and throw you across his desk, you stop your ministrations. His eyes go wide with disappointment and shock. His breathing is erratic and you know he’s right on the edge. Good. You lean into his ear and whisper, “Now Ronnie. You didn’t think I would let you get off that easy. Did you?” You place a chaste kiss to his flushed cheek, release yourself from his grip, point to his probably cold dinner, and make your exit. “See you at home baby,” you throw over your shoulder with a sly grin.

He really hopes all the documents he filled out in a matter of two minutes are correct.