#how to store garlic at home

[suchananewsblog]

Watch: This Kitchen Hack May Help Prolong The Shelf Life Of Garlic

If there’s one ingredient that can instantly spruce up the flavour of your meals, it has to be none other than garlic. There’s nothing better than garlic and we can vouch for it. From various kinds of dips to pickles, curries and more, it can enhance the taste of anything and everything. Besides adding pungent flavour to the dishes, garlic has also been shown to provide remarkable health…

[jacqcrisis]

First thing I did this morning was go to a store I don't normally frequent since it's busy, but, as it is Sunday and 830am, decided now was the perfect time. Took Chili with since it was only going to be a ten minute trip and left her in the car while I quickly grabbed some shit.

Few moments later at the checkout lane, and I look through the window to see what my dog is doing and laugh as I mention to the cashier she looks like she's having a crisis since she can't see me. The lady asks me what kind and I tell her as I pay. She then excitedly asks if she can go see my dog to which I go 'sure'.

So, turns out, she is now the third person I've met who was also looking at Chili on the shelter website and the only reason she didn't apply for her was because her husband said no. I keep finding these people. It's very funny.

[ilearntocook]

Next meal probably pasta salad. One more steak in freezer. Probably get more chicken breast when I go aquire pasta salad ingredients

[jay-catsby]

i made such a good dinner tonight :) i havent really cooked since i got back after christmas and ive missed it

[writtenfangirl]

Hungry For You

Another TikTok trend has sparked an idea in me.

Another (short) Charles Leclerc Fanfic

Y/N spooned the food carefully on to the two plates, casting the hidden camera a wide grin as she did so. While the plates were similar in size, one had a significantly larger portion. The grilled chicken on one of the plates was practically the size of her palm, the pesto pasta still steaming as she dumped it on the plate. On her own plate, she placed barely a handful of food, the chicken cut into three small strips and the pasta’s serving size so tiny, not even a small cat would feel full.

“Babe, it’s time to eat!” Y/N called out as she shot her phone another wink. She’s placed the devise inside one of the cups of utensils, hidden away from Charles’ keen eyes. The camera had a full view of the kitchen island, where she and Charles frequently ate their meals when they were alone.

She heard his footsteps bounding towards the kitchen, the door to his gaming room slamming shut behind him.

“I am starving and it smells delicious.” He practically beamed at her as he took his place on the kitchen isle, oblivious to the camera that was filming his every move. “I don’t know how you manage to impress me with your cooking every time, cherie.”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet.”

“It’s pesto. I already know I’ll love it.”

Pesto pasta was one of his favorite dishes and with the aromatic smells of the basil and garlic hanging in the air, Y/N had no doubts about his statement.

She circled around the isle taking her seat next to Charles, placing the plate with the larger portions in front of him and the smaller sized portion in front of her. But Charles paid the food no heed.

He grinned up at her, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for cooking for us, cherie.”

He did this every time she cooked. Thanked her for her efforts and grinned up at her like she hung the moon and starts. And every single time, without fail, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of that smile.

She handed him his utensils, his food finally snagging his attention before his eyes wandered to her plate. He frowned at the sight of it. “Why is your food so little?”

“What do you mean?” She asked innocently as she took the pitcher of water she had set and carefully filling their glass.

“Your food, it is so little.”

“Yeah, this was all we had,” she shrugged. “I forgot to stop by the grocery store this week and this was the last of the chicken and the pasta.” She took her utensils, getting ready to dig in when all of a sudden her plate disappeared. 

“Charles? What are you doing?” Bewildered she watched as her boyfriend dumped the contents of her plate on to his already full one.

“Eat,” he said as he pushed the fully loaded plate in front of her. There was no annoyance in his eyes, no hint of his previous hunger as he looked at her in earnest, waiting for her to dig in.

“Babe, I’m not even really that hungry,” she protested. “Come on, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry either,” he shrugged.

Liar. He’d been complaining the whole time she was cooking about how hungry and excited he was to eat. He always got that way after a training session and he’d been training since 9AM. Whatever lunch Charles ate during a training day was usually only enough to get him going and by the time he found his way home, he was always positively starving. And Y/N knew today was no exception.

“Just five minutes ago you said you were starving,” she deadpanned.

“You spent two hours on your feet, cooking. I know how tiring that is. I really am not hungry.”

She rolled her eyes, even as love bloomed at her chest. “You came from training.”

He waved off her concerns. “I promise, I am not hungry. And tomorrow, I will go to the grocery, buy our stuff and cook you a meal.”

It was a true miracle that Y/N didn’t grab her boyfriend right then and there and drag him to the bedroom. How she managed to snag a boyfriend so thoughtful and so selfless was beyond her. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?”

He grinned at her, his voice going deep and husky as his eyes darkened. “I’m hungry for you.” He gave her what he probably thought was sultry wink but that only served to have Y/N howling in laughter.

There was no denying how in love she was with her boyfriend but she had always been immune to his attempts at flirting. His charms would no doubt have worked on other girls but Y/N only found them cute. 

She was shaking her head as she took the other plate and dumped half of the food onto it. She ignored his protesting as she pushed the other plate towards him. She had given him the bigger chunk of chicken and the bigger half of the pasta but the piles of food were still more or less equal to each other. She doubted he even noticed the slight difference, especially since she pushed the other plate far away from him. “If we’re still hungry at the end of the meal, we can go to the cafe down the street.” 

He raised a brow at her, a smirk pulling at his lips. His face was barely an inch away from her, his green eyes practically glittering as he spoke. “Is that your move, cherie? Starving a man so you can take him out on a coffee date?”

She didn’t even try to stop her laughter, not as Charles pulled her chair closer to his own until she was pressed flushed against him. His arm automatically pulled her to him, his own lips pulled into a smile before he lowered himself on to her mouth. Their kiss was sweet, as sweet as this moment was. A moment that Y/N was sure she would never forget.

[seasons-of-death]

bf!rafe x pogue!reader cooking

warnings: suggestive language, nsfw, fluff i literally got this idea when i was cooking and my delusional ass was like "hmm i wonder what it'd be like to cook with rafe..."

there are a lot of things that rafe cameron was good at; being a sneaky motherfucker, manipulating people to do as he wishes, and of course ...

but it only took you a few weeks to find out one thing that he hadn't mastered, and that was the art of cooking. to be fair, if your family had been as rich as him, you probably wouldn't either, the boy having grown on meals prepared by professional chefs, and before his mother's passing, hers.

meanwhile, you had known how to cook pretty much ever since you were old enough to reach the stove, cooking for yourself whenever your parents were working late, and eventually cooking for your siblings as well. your parents never told you that you needed to learn how to cook; you simply wanted to take some of the burden off their shoulders, knowing that your father worked two jobs while your mother worked as a cashier despite her back being damaged for as long as you could remember.

one time, about two weeks into your first date, rafe had tried to cook for you and... it didn't end well. almost every part of his dish, (except for the store-bought garlic bread) had burnt, and he apologized while he was ordering more dishes than you could even dream of eating to his family's home. eventually, the leftovers ended up at your house, feeding your family for a good few days.

it had only been a joke; you'd casually said "hey, what if i teach you how to cook?" but it seemed that rafe had taken it completely seriously. and if he was in, who were you to say no to that exciting look on the boy's face?

"rafe, if we're actually gonna get something done, you're gonna have to let go of me eventually." you chuckled, the boy's arms wrapped around your torso.

"i could just eat you for dinner..." he said, pressing tempting kisses on your neck while you were chopping up a bit of chili pepper to add into the recipe; rafe had sworn that he could handle the heat, but you were curious if that was really the case, or if he was just showing off as usual.

you turned around, pressing a quick, playful kiss on the boy's lips, "we'll see if you'll get to have me for dessert." you said, a grin on your lips as you continued cooking, and rafe swore that he was paying attention to your lesson, but you knew that the part he was the most excited about was the fact that he was able to manhandle you without you smacking his hand away, his hands already resting on your tits.

after about thirty minutes, the two of you were seated at the table, each of you trying the new pasta recipe you found. "shit, this is good..." rafe said, before taking a long chug of water, and you immediately knew what had caused it.

"babe, if you wanna relieve some of the spice, you're gonna have to drink milk or something. y'know, sometimes when i smoke up with my friends, we have chocolate milk on the side to help with the sore throat." you chuckle, watching as he rises to his feet and pours himself a glass of milk.

after a short moment, he returned to the table shaking his head, a wide grin on his lips as he pressed a kiss on your cheek. "you know, i'm definitely gonna need to have some of you for dessert."

[transmascsteveharrington]

Growing up, food is always a bit of a sore spot for Eddie. Of course, Wayne does his best to make sure that Eddie never goes to bed with an empty stomach, but growing boys need lots of fuel. And while there always is food, there often isn’t much food. But it’s fine, Eddie knows Wayne is trying so hard, picking up all the extra shifts he can. Eddie would never hold it against his uncle, he knows how much Wayne already frets. And even though Eddie’s stomach growls every now and then, he learns to ignore it. Learns how not to be hungry.

While other kids experiment what herbs might go best with pasta sauce and how to caramelize sugar without burning it, Eddie tries to find out how to water down soup and stretch stew for days. Figures out how to make rice with beans still taste good on day five. Hunts down coupons and keeps an eye out for discounts so they can have hot dogs on the fourth of july and candy on Halloween. Food is never really pleasure or indulgence. Only something neither he nor Wayne try to worry about. Some days it’s easier than others.

It’s not really until after the upside down, after he has been discharged from the hospital and off the murder accusations, not until Steve that food becomes more than just another annoyingly human need. Thanks to the government hush money and Eddie picking up a mechanic jobat the local garage they don’t need to worry about food anymore. 

But it’s still just means to an end, there is no luxuriating in it, no big cravings, Eddie still cuts out coupons. Steve offers them to host Hellfire at his house and Eddie offers to buy snacks. It’s the least he can do if Steve is letting them into his mansion. But Steve declines, says he’ll take care of it. And he does. 

When Eddie and the rest of Hellfire show up the dining room table (Steve has a dining room Jesus H. Christ) is filled with all kinds of snacks. It’s everyone’s favorite kinds of snack. And not the store brand knock off snacks, no, it’s the real fancy shit. Or well as fancy as pringles and mountain dew can be. But it doesn’t stop there. 

Once the game is over, the kids help clean up, but none of them rush to get their shoes back on or slip into their jackets. Instead, they pile into the kitchen, dragging Eddie and the older kids of Hellfire with them where Steve is already handing them steaming plates of lasagna. 

“You running a soup kitchen, Harrington?” Eddie can’t help but tease as a  plate is pressed into his hands. 

There is a blush creeping over Steve’s face and Eddie instantly regrets his comment. It’s just the snacks, the dinner, it kinda makes him feel inadequate, like he was bad at hosting Hellfire because he never brought snacks let alone dinner.

It takes Eddie a while to understand that Steve doesn’t do it to show off, but simply because he enjoys cooking. He always provides snacks when they are at his house, be it Hellfire, movie night, or pool parties. There is always home cooked food and often even homemade dessert too. The day he bakes a bunch of lemon meringue cookies is a horrible day because those cookies are to die or fall madly in love for and Eddie can feel his stomach swoop. He ignores it like he has ignored all his cravings over the years. And it works for a while.

Until one golden autumn afternoon when Eddie is early and the kids are still at school. Eddie offers to drive around the block a couple of times, but Steve just laughs, tells Eddie not to be stupid. He leads Eddie into the kitchen and motions for him to sit on the counter.  Talks about how he likes company while cooking. The radio in the corner of the kitchen blares pop music loudly and Steve turns it down, no need for it to longer fill the oppressive silence. Eddie hops on the counter, dangles his legs and watches Steve cook. It’s so obviousthat he loves doing it. The way he hums quietly, sautees onions and garlic, stirs in herbs and spices, tastes his sauce, frowns and adds more salt. It’s horribly endearing and cute and dangerous and Eddie can’t tell if his stomach is growling or filled with butterflies. 

“Have you always loved cooking?” he asks, desperate to keep his thoughts from spiraling. Steve laughs again in response and the sound kicks up another storm in Eddie’s stomach. 

“God no,” Steve says and stirs his sauce. “I couldn’t cook for the longest time. Lived off tv dinners and take out for some years.” 

The soft smile of his lips faints slightly. Eddie knows what a bitter taste loneliness can leave in your mouth. Knows that while Steve never had to worry about food, he also never had someone to share it with. 

“Found some cookbooks inthe attic a few years back,” Steve continues. “Tired out some recipes, asked Claudia and Mrs. Wheeler for advice when I couldn’t get something right and well here we are.” 

“Here we are,” Eddie echoes, unable to tear his eyes away from Steve. He looks gorgeous in the golden afternoon light, a dorky apron that says Kiss the cook on it and god how Eddie would like to oblige that order. Steve catches him staring, but doesn’t call him out on it. The corner of his mouth twitches up as he dips a wooden spoon into the sauce, holds a hand under it and turns to Eddie.

“Taste this for me?” he asks, stepping closer, until he is bracketed by Eddie’s thighs. Eddie can just swallow and nod, not sure how to cope with Steve being this close. Steve lifts the spoon until wood touches Eddie’s lips. He parts them hesitantly, lets Steve push the spoon into his mouth, licks the sauce off it. All while looking in the gold honey and caramel of Steve’s eyes. Eddie wonders if Steve's lips would taste of spun sugar too. 

“It’s good,” he rasps once Steve has lowered the spoon. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Steve smiles and god if smiles had a taste, Steve’s would be Eddie’s favorite flavor. The kind of flavor that would teach Eddie indulgence. The same way Steve indulges in his cooking, lets all the time and care he puts in his food speak for how much he loves the people he prepares food for. Because for Steve food is more than just sustenance. It's love. 

Steve goes back to the stove, stirs some more and begins humming again. Eddie continues to watch him. And for the first time in years, Eddie allows himself to be hungry. 

.   

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 1. a fresh start

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: After you settle into your tiny, dingy apartment safely in the middle of nowhere, you go on the hunt for a job to help make ends meet. There, you meet someone who forces back memories you would rather forget.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, PTSD-type symptoms

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist

Anybody else who walked into the small, one bedroom apartment you were currently standing in would most likely be revolted. The kitchen faucet dripped incessantly, the toilet was stained, the carpet looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a decade, and the entire place smelled like garlic from the pizza place downstairs. But when you looked at it, you smiled. You could work with this. Rummaging around the dollar store bags you left on the kitchen counter, you pulled out all of the cleaning supplies you picked up and got to work.

The landlord - who also happened to be the owner of the pizza place - seemed surprised you wanted to rent it. He said the place had been vacant for close to a year, and considering the state, he knocked off quite a bit on the price. But you could see the potential beyond the grime, and you never shied away from a little hard work, so you jumped at the opportunity. It took you almost the whole day, but you managed to get the place smelling halfway decent. The bathroom and kitchen both looked sparkling new - well, relatively. The only thing you couldn't figure out was the faucet, but that concerned you the least since your landlord said that utilities were included.

Aside from the low rent, the next best thing about the place was it came partially furnished. It had a queen bed, a beat up sofa, and a rickety dining room table, but that was all you needed. At this point, you were just happy to not be staying in another dirty motel. You were ready to find a home, plant down some roots, and start fresh. And Fredericksburg, Texas was just as good a town as any.

You were surprised by how cute the town was when you first drove down Main Street. It was quiet and quaint, and very much had a small town atmosphere. When you were at the dollar store, you had overheard the cashier making conversation with every single customer as if she had known them all her life. By the time it was your turn to cash out, she examined you quizzically, most likely trying to place you, but fortunately she let it go and didn't pry. You weren't in the mood to make up more lies. You were exhausted from being on the road so much the past few weeks, and you just wanted to collapse into bed in a somewhat clean room.

And that is exactly what you did, after you stocked the small fridge with some essentials from the grocery store at the corner of the street so you would at least have coffee and something to eat in the morning.

As you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan swirling above, you silently thanked your grandmother all those years ago who told you since you were old enough to understand when you meet a man, keep your own bank account. At the time, you laughed, wondering why on earth anyone would purposely keep secrets from their partner. That it seemed like such a betrayal to even suggest it. But luckily for you, when you met Patrick, you already had your own bank account. You let it lie dormant for a while, almost forgetting you had it. Eventually, you told yourself you should close the account. But that required going down to the branch in person, and you never seemed to find the time to do it. Or maybe some part of you always knew there was something ugly about him, and maybe your grandmother's words had more of an effect on you than you realized.

Whatever it was, it's the reason you were able to find a shitty little apartment in the middle of nowhere without anybody being able to track you down. And for the first time in a long time, you closed your eyes and felt safe.

The next morning, after you drank your surprisingly palatable off brand coffee and ate a borderline stale blueberry muffin, you headed down the steps of your apartment to the sidewalk lining Main Street. You took a deep breath and looked around, a small smile playing on your lips. The town was just waking up, businesses just opening their doors, cars rolling lazily down the street. You had your own car - it was an old Honda Civic that you weren't entirely sure had many years left - but you wouldn't need it today. Picking an apartment on the main drag in town afforded you the option to walk almost anywhere. So you chose a direction and started walking, glancing in the windows of the shops, looking for any help wanted signs.

You tried a small clothing boutique and a coffee shop before entering the pharmacy. There wasn't a help wanted sign out front, but you needed to pick up a few things, anyway. Things the dollar store didn't have, or things you didn't exactly trust to buy there.

You grabbed a basket by the door and smiled at the teenager behind the counter who greeted you before heading down the first aisle. You snagged some generic pain reliever and a box of tampons before you made your way to the hair products. Flipping open the caps, you took a hesitant sniff and put them back before deciding on a cheaper bottle that smelled like strawberries and didn't make you gag. Dropping the bottles in your basket, you wandered past the makeup, looking at it longingly but knowing you wouldn't waste the money on it. Instead, you stopped in front of an end-cap where a display of chapstick caught your eye.

"Sarah?" you heard a deep voice call from behind. You ignored it and kept looking at the display, landing on a vanilla scent as the man walked past. You didn't see his face, but you smelled his cologne, and you instantly recoiled. Your heart began to slam in your chest and your throat felt tight. You squeezed your eyes shut as you focused on taking deep breaths. It's not him, it's not him, it's not him.

"Excuse me, can I grab one of those?" a girl's voice said softly behind you. Taking a shaky step back, you nodded and forced a weak smile.

"Sorry, of course," you told her. She had beautiful, dark brown eyes and thick hair with tight curls framing her face. She looked like she was in her early teens, and based on the backpack over her shoulders, you were probably right.

"Sarah?" you heard the voice call again, and you saw her eyes flick up. You realized the man with the cologne was probably related to her, and you weren't sure you would be able to handle smelling it again, so you quickly took off down the next aisle to hide, waiting until their voices carried them to the cash registers and out the front door before taking a few steadying breaths and forcing yourself to move.

Minor setback aside, you had a pretty good morning. You found you had some luck at the diner a few blocks over. The owner took a liking to you right away and interviewed you on the spot.

"You came at the perfect time, darlin'," he said, taking a seat across from you. "Just missed the breakfast rush, so I got the time to talk right now. Name's Tommy," he said, extending his hand. You smiled and shook it, introducing yourself, then quickly brought your hand back to your lap to nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt.

"You ever work in a restaurant before?"

"Uh, yeah, it's been a few years. But I think it's like riding a bike. I have really good time management skills, I have experience handling cash, I'm friendly, I'm great at anticipating customer's needs-"

Tommy laughed and patted his hand on the table.

"Sounds like you got more skills than half the waitstaff I already got. Some of the older ladies ain't exactly friendly, but they've been here so long, no one seems to mind," he explained quietly with a wink. You chuckled and glanced down at your hands.

"You from around here? I don't think I recognize you," he asked, his eyebrows pinching together. You shook your head.

"Nope, just moved here." You briefly wondered if you should lie - you were so used to lying at this point, it came as second nature - but you couldn't see what it would hurt to tell him the truth. "I'm from Pennsylvania. Just got in last night, actually."

"Long way from home, what brought you here?" he asked, leaning back to study you. You just shrugged.

"Looking for a fresh start," you said honestly. If you were really looking to start over, the lying needed to stop, too.

Tommy nodded and glanced behind you before meeting your gaze again.

"Well, you're hired. If you want the job, that is," he said. You grinned, not expecting that.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. When can you start?"

"Uh, tomorrow?" you offered, your mind racing. You weren't sure if you would need new clothes so you wanted to give yourself the rest of the day, at least, to prepare.

"Works for me. Maria," Tommy called over your shoulder. You turned around and saw a beautiful woman with long, dark braids walking over. He introduced her as his wife, who also happened to be the hostess. You stood to shake her hand, exchanging warm smiles as Tommy told her your name.

"Why don't you come by tomorrow 'round 9 and Maria can show you the ropes? I work the kitchen, she's got the floor," he explained, and you nodded along excitedly.

"I'll be here," you confirmed, the grin still plastered on your face. Tommy left to head back to the kitchen as Maria told you what you needed to bring the next day. You took out your new phone and began jotting down everything she mentioned.

On the way back home, you stopped to pick up a pair of nonslip sneakers from a shoe store. Maria had given you a couple plain black skirts and black t-shirts with the diner's logo that all of the waitresses wore as their uniform before you left. To celebrate, you got a pizza from the pizza place below your apartment and watched old reruns on the ancient TV in your living room.

Things were finally starting to come together.

"Refills are free. Cream and sugar is down here, along with any extra condiments. Coffee should be made every hour but you'll go through the pot long before that," Maria said to you, pointing as she walked behind the counter. "Here's some extra notepads and pens. The computer system is kind of old but pretty easy to use. Tommy'll ring the bell when food is up, we try to move it as quick as possible before it gets cold, even if it's not your table," she said, turning around to face you. "It might take some time to learn the table numbers but we have a little cheat sheet next to all the registers. And if you're ever not sure, don't hesitate to ask."

"I think I got it," you said confidently, tapping your pen against your notepad.

"You can shadow with Betty today, she's been here for decades, long before Tommy and me ever bought the place. She knows her shit forwards and backwards," Maria said, leading you back to the kitchen where you saw an older, round woman struggling with a cardboard box.

"Here, let me help," you told her, rushing over to take the box from her.

"Thanks, sweetie," she said with a smile. "Can you take it up front for me?"

"Of course," you said, following her through the kitchen.

Maria introduced you to Betty as you helped her stock the ketchup bottles underneath the front counter. You heard Tommy's voice call for Maria through the kitchen window and she excused herself, leaving the two of you to tend to the only two customers in the place.

The morning went by quickly. Betty was nicer than you expected. In your experience, when a newcomer joins a seasoned team, it sometimes takes time for the veterans to warm up, but she seemed very eager to show you the ropes, and she had the patience of a saint. All of the customers seemed to know her name and history, some occasionally asking about her husband or her children. As it inched closer to noon, the diner started getting busier again, so you began to branch out a bit on your own, taking a few simple orders and delivering food or refills whenever you could. Betty was deep in conversation with a regular when she waved you over.

"D'you mind takin' care of him?" she asked, nodding over to the man who just sat down. "That's Joel, Tommy's brother. Don't charge him for nothin', he comes in all the time."

You nodded and pulled your pen and notepad out of your apron as you headed over to greet him. When you finally lifted your gaze, you noticed he was wearing a worn, brown suit with a striped tie and as you got closer, you saw the little gold star pinned to his belt and the bulge of a handgun under his blazer.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you made the realization he's a cop.

It's fine, it's fine, it's fine you kept repeating to yourself, forcing your feet to move. You thought you were okay by the time you stood in front of him, but then his cologne invaded your senses, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck.

Fortunately, his head was bent down looking at the menu and didn't see your reaction, which afforded you a few precious seconds to collect yourself. It's not him.

"Hey Betty, I'll have-" he glanced up and realized you were not, in fact, Betty. His warm brown eyes trailed over your face for a moment too long, making you shift your weight nervously.

"Sorry, didn't uh - have we met?" he asked, his eyes unblinking as he continued to stare, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. It's fine, you're fine.

"No," you finally managed to squeak out, shaking your head and introducing yourself right as his eyes drifted to your name tag. "What can I get for you?"

You needed to walk away. You weren't sure how much longer you could stand there smelling that fucking cologne and staring at that badge. But for some reason, he didn't answer you. Maybe if you weren't so wrapped up in your own issues, you would have recognized the look in his eye. The look that clearly expressed interest beyond you taking his food order. And maybe, if you weren't so messed up, you would have realized he was insanely handsome. Maybe, if you could have seen past the cologne and the gold star on his waist, you would have noticed how plush his lips looked, or how big and strong his hands were. You had no idea how you could possibly miss how broad his shoulders were or how thick and soft the messy, dark curls were on top of his head.

But you did miss all of those things the first time you saw him, because he just kept staring and the scent was making your stomach turn and the fluorescent light was shining too brightly off that damn star, so you repeated yourself with a little more edge to your voice than you usually had.

He finally snapped out of it and glanced down at the menu, quickly telling you his order. You wrote it down and held your breath, only letting it go once you were around the corner and far enough away. He comes in all the time, Betty's words replayed in your mind. You were either going to need to find a way to deal with your issues, or find a new job.

"Hiya, Joel. New girl take care of you?" Betty asked as she ambled over to refill his coffee. His eyes flicked around the diner, following your form as you smiled and chatted warmly with other customers.

"Yeah, when did she start?" he asked, trying to sound noncommittal, but Betty saw right through it.

"Today," she told him with a smirk. "Real smart. Pretty, too, don'tcha think?"

"Uh," Joel stammered before clearing his throat. "Yeah, suppose so."

"I think she's single," Betty told him, leaning up against the counter.

"When are you gonna quit tryin' to set me up with every woman in this town?" Joel asked her with a grin.

"Whenever you decide to finally settle down," she shot right back. "You need a woman in your life, Joel."

"Do you do this to all your customers, Betty? Grill 'em 'bout their love lives and tell 'em what they need, like you know best?"

"I do know best, Joel," she said with a wink. "And you know it."

"Yeah, well. I got my hands full with Sarah and work down at the station. Don't got time for all that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee.

"Sarah's 'bout to be goin' off to college before you know it, and there ain't nearly enough crime in this town to keep you that busy," she said with a shake of her head.

Joel mumbled something under his breath before taking another sip of coffee and glancing around the dining room.

"What was that?" Betty asked, leaning in and cupping her ear. Joel sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Don't think she likes me much, anyway," he said, clearer now.

"Oh, well I can find out for you, sugar. All you gotta do is ask." Betty gave Joel the biggest shit eating grin she could muster. He took a deep breath before asking what he knew would be a huge mistake, but he suddenly needed to know the answer.

"Can you..." he trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek and staring down at the closed menu.

"Can I what?"

Joel groaned and dragged his eyes back up to Betty.

"Can you find out if she'd be interested?" he finally spit out, and Betty clapped her hands.

"Of course I will, Joel! I would absolutely love to," she gushed, and he rolled his eyes again. Just then, he saw you come around the corner and go behind the counter, completely ignoring the two of you before reaching up to the kitchen window and grabbing his lunch. You turned around and gave him what looked to be a forced smile and carefully set the plate down in front of him with a bottle of ketchup. Betty took a step back and watched with a glimmer in her eye as Joel's neck began to flush.

"Can I get you anything else?" you asked. Your voice sounded sweet and you were smiling, but your smile didn't reach your eyes. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

"Nope, all set, thank you," he said, giving you a warm smile in return, but before he even had a chance to say anything else, to try to make a connection and learn more about you, you scurried away. He glanced over at Betty and raised his eyebrows.

"See?"

She waved him off and picked up a rag to wipe down the counter.

"She's just nervous, is all."

The embarrassment still sat with you by the time you arrived back to your apartment that evening. When Betty caught you off guard and asked what you thought of Joel, you couldn't turn down the idea fast enough. You must have looked and sounded crazy based on her reaction. Your only saving grace was Joel had already left the diner and didn't hear you vehemently tell her you wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't his fault, you weren't interested in hurting his feelings, but you were far too vulnerable still. The wounds were too fresh and the memories were too strong.

Besides, even if you weren't in the unfortunate position you were in, you wouldn't feel right dragging even more people down with you. You dug this grave, so you had to dig yourself out. And you were on the right track, too. As far as you knew, nobody knew where you were. You were incredibly careful, you kept a low profile, and you didn't contact a single person back home. You had no idea who you could even trust anymore, so the safest bet was to just cut all ties and start over.

You weren't going to risk everything by getting involved with some guy. Okay, he was more like a man. But still. Your situation was far too complicated to get involved with anybody. Technically, you shouldn't get involved with anybody.

No, it was a very bad idea.

So why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

"Stop it," you muttered out loud to yourself as you paced around your little apartment. With a huff, you picked up the small potted plant you bought on clearance and gave it a little bit of water from the dripping kitchen sink before putting it back on the windowsill.

Remember what he smelled like? Remember he's a cop?

That did the trick. Those two simple reminders erased all prior thoughts about the handsome sheriff who visited the diner earlier that day.

And as you tucked yourself into bed that night, you convinced yourself the only reason who were momentarily intrigued by the man's interest was flattery. You were simply flattered someone looked at you in that way. It's been a long time since anybody had, and it just made you feel good.

Yep, that's all it was.

When Joel sat down at the counter the next day and was greeted by Betty instead of you, he was surprised to find he was disappointed. He had just met you, he knew nothing about you, he barely even spoke to you. Why should he care if you were waiting on him today or not?

"She ain't here," Betty said when she caught Joel glancing around the dining room. He tried not to look deflated.

"Who?"

Betty laughed heartily at that and had to pause to catch her breath so she wouldn't spill his coffee.

"Listen, Joel," she said, setting the coffee pot down and leaning on the counter. "Remember what I said yesterday? 'Bout how I always know what's best?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, eyeing her up and bracing for what was coming next.

"Well, turns out I might have been wrong. There's a first time for everythin', right?" she said, forcing a laugh that he didn't reciprocate.

"What'dya mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I don't think she's interested in datin' anyone right now," was all she said, and he felt the disappointment instantly flood his veins. He didn't even realize how much he had been hoping his instinct was wrong, that maybe he misread you, but of course he was right. He was a cop, after all. He was good at reading people, it's what he was trained to do.

"That's it?"

"I don't know, Joel. Maybe she's not into men, I didn't ask any more questions," she said. "Besides, I was thinkin'. Margaret's daughter is back in town. You remember Nikki?"

Joel shrugged and turned back to his coffee. He remembered Nikki. He wasn't interested in Nikki. She was a nice girl, but he didn't feel anything when he looked at her. Not like the way he felt when he looked at you.

"Now I know for a fact that Nikki's had a crush on you since you were in high school. I could talk to Margaret at church this weekend..."

"No thanks," Joel said immediately, then glanced at his watch before standing up and tossing a tip down on the table. "Gotta get back to work, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

He turned on his heel and left before Betty had a chance to reply.

What a stupid idea. What did he expect would actually happen? That you would fall in love with him after he spoke barely three sentences to you? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Hey, Joel," he heard the owner of the hardware shop call out to him in greeting as he walked by.

"Hey, Lee. How's it goin'?" Joel stopped outside the open door to the shop, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Lee sweep the floor.

"Can't complain. 'Cept, you get any leads on those vandals? Someone's been drawin' obscene things on the street signs over on Willow." Lee lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder before adding "someone even drew a phallic image on a deer crossin' sign."

Joel had to stifle a chuckle because he knew the old man was completely serious.

"I'm on it, Lee. Promise, I'll get to the bottom of it," he said with a nod.

A clatter deep within the store pulled both of their attention toward the noise.

"You alright back there, miss?" Lee called, peering down the aisle. Joel's breath caught in his throat when he heard your voice.

"Yeah, sorry! Just dropped something," you replied, emerging from the aisle looking a little flustered and holding an array of tools in your hands. You stiffened before you even laid eyes on him, like you could sense him before even seeing he was there. Joel couldn't help but take it a little personally. Why were you so sweet and friendly to Lee and other customers at the diner, but so cold to him?

You glanced his way nervously and he tried to give you a reassuring smile, maybe even a quick hello, but you immediately turned to address Lee, asking him questions on how to fix a kitchen faucet. Joel watched as Lee picked out the right tool for you and explained how to fix it, but it was clear as day you were having a hard time following. Lee must have noticed as well.

"You ever fix anythin' 'round a house, sweetheart?" Lee asked, and a little pink dusted your cheeks, making Joel's heart flutter in his chest.

"Is it that obvious?" you asked him with a sweet smile. Why wouldn't you look at him like that?

Lee laughed good-naturedly before turning to Joel.

"Joel, would you mind helpin' her out? Her place's on the way back to the station."

Your smile fell and you instantly shook your head, eyes widening as you clutched the tool in your hand.

"N-no, that's okay, I can manage," you said, first to Lee, then braved a glance in his direction before dropping your eyes to the floor.

A big part of Joel told himself to just give up, just let you be and ignore whatever it was that made you dislike him so much. But he just couldn't do it.

"Not a problem, it should just take a second," Joel finally said, tilting his head to look at you. "Where d'you live?"

He could tell you were incredibly uncomfortable now, and he wondered if he should stop pushing it. It looked like you could hardly breathe as you stared at the floor and considered your options.

"Just a few blocks that way," you said meekly, pointing north up Main Street. Joel pushed himself off the doorframe and stood aside so you could squeeze through without getting too close to him, and for that you seemed grateful. He nodded to Lee before following you down the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he tried to think of something to say.

"You likin' it here so far?"

"Uh huh," you replied, your gaze trained straight ahead. The pair of you walked in an awkward silence for another minute before he tried again.

"You got a place right on Main?"

"Above the pizza parlor," you said, and before he could follow up with another question, you suddenly stopped walking. He turned around when he realized and gave you a confused look.

"I really appreciate the offer, but I think I can figure out the sink for myself," you told him, forcing yourself to look into his eyes this time when you spoke.

"It's no trouble. It's what we all do 'round here, we help each other out," he replied. You fidgeted with the strap of your purse and averted your gaze. He waited for you to weigh your options, not wanting to pressure you but also not ready to give up, either. Finally, you spoke.

"You said it'll be quick?"

He grinned and nodded.

"Less than ten minutes."

You sighed and forced yourself to continue walking.

"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind..."

"I'm sure."

You walked in silence the rest of the way to your apartment. Joel seemed nice enough, and you could probably even get over the fact he was a cop, but you just couldn't get past the fucking cologne. It permeated every molecule of air whenever he was near, and you couldn't stop the horrible memories that came flooding back. You knew you would end up regretting allowing him into your apartment because you would end up spending the rest of the day trying to rid your little sanctuary of that scent. But you were weak. You never were very good at saying no. And this time was no exception.

You unlocked the front door and Joel held it open while you led him up the creaky stairs, then unlocked the second door at the top that led directly into your small apartment. He closed the door behind him and glanced around, taking in your space for the first time.

"Cozy," he finally said, and you let out a soft chuckle.

"You could say that," you replied. The room wasn't very big, but he noticed the moment you both entered, you put as much space between the two of you as you could. Your eyes were flicking around the room anxiously, your back against the only window and your fingers clutching the tool to your chest, toying with it nervously. He took a couple steps towards you and your fidgeting stopped. You dragged your gaze up to his as he studied your curious behavior. If it wasn't obvious before, it was crystal clear now: he made you incredibly uncomfortable.

Rather than make things worse, he stopped halfway across the room and just held out his hand. You stared at it, unmoving and barely breathing before he cleared his throat.

"Wrench?"

"Oh," you said softly, letting out a shaky breath before taking a step forward and handing him the tool you had just bought. He took it and gave you one more look before turning back towards the small kitchen. He shrugged off his blazer and draped it over the back of a chair, and your throat went dry when you clocked the gun on his waist.

You watched him warily as he flicked on the overhead light and fiddled with the lever of the sink before opening the cabinets underneath and peering inside at the plumbing. You hardly moved a muscle as you watched him. You wished you could light the scented candle on your table to help minimize the cologne, but you were too nervous he would find that suggestive. The silence became deafening as he worked, and you felt compelled to say something.

"Can I get you some water?"

He stopped what he was doing and gave you a small smirk.

"As long as it ain't from the tap," he said, tilting his head towards the faucet he currently had taken apart. You smiled and walked quickly over to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water. He noticed your fingers shaking slightly when you handed him the water, and he frowned.

"You alright?"

"Me?" you squeaked, as if there were anyone else in the room he could be addressing. He nodded slowly and unscrewed the cap, still staring at you.

"I'm fine," you assured him, but still took a few paces back to stand next to your window again. Far away from him. He looked you up and down as he took a sip of his water before setting the bottle down on the counter.

"I can tell you got some issue with me," he began, and you stilled, watching him carefully from across the room, clutching the water bottle tightly against your chest. You shook your head quickly, but he held out a hand to stop you.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable at the diner," he said.

"W-what do you mean?" you stammered.

"Betty," he added, raising his eyebrows. "She's got a tendency to stick her nose where it don't belong, and I know she said somethin' to you 'bout me. I just wanted to apologize if that put you in tough spot."

"Oh, that's alright," you told him, quickly waving him off. He chewed the corner of his mouth as he studied your surprisingly relaxed response. So Betty's prying wasn't the problem.

"You gotta give me somethin' here," he said after a moment, and you dropped your gaze to your feet. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," you said softly, your eyes still pinned to the floor.

"Then why can't you stand lookin' at me for more than five seconds?" he asked, desperate now to know the answer.

"Does it matter?" you whispered.

"I wish it didn't," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. You finally looked up at him now, taking in his hurt expression, and you felt your resolve crumbling. What happened to you wasn't this man's fault.

"What does that mean?" you asked him, and it was his turn to look away.

"Nothin'," he finally mumbled, his heart slamming against his chest.

"It's your cologne," you blurted out, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn't expecting that.

"My... cologne?"

"It's nothing personal, I'm just sensitive to smells." He knew you were lying. Your entire apartment smelled like garlic and marinara sauce from the pizza place downstairs. But he decided not to push it.

"My daughter - Sarah - she got it for me for Father's Day. Truth be told, I don't like it much, either," he told you, and much to his relief, he saw the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly. He just shrugged and turned back to the sink.

"Nothin' for you to be sorry 'bout. Thought I offended you or somethin', is all," he told you as he worked on putting the faucet back together.

You took a few tentative steps closer to peer over his shoulder.

"Can you show me what you did to fix it?" you asked. He straightened up to look at you and twirled the wrench in his hand, deciding to be bold.

"If I do that, then I won't have an excuse to come see you when it breaks again."

You bit your lip to hide your smile as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He grinned and turned back to the sink. Maybe he still had a chance. He was nearly finished, but he showed mercy on you and explained what he did, anyway.

Once he was done, you walked him down to the first floor, thanking him profusely along the way.

"Don't mention it," he said, shoving his arms through his blazer as he walked, but turned back before you closed the door.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gazed up at him. Now that you were back outside and the scent wasn't so strong, you allowed yourself to acknowledge that Joel was a good looking man. A really good looking man. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you cursed Patrick for ruining so many things for you, but you were afraid the worst thing he might have actually ruined for you was Joel.

You slowly nodded, then he grinned and tilted his head to the side.

"You have yourself a good rest of the day, sweetheart."

You felt yourself blush at the term of endearment, but luckily he had already turned away.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @merz-8 @sarap-77

[hayakawalove]

I'll Get My Way

Summary: Suguru wants to punish you for being a brat, but Satoru has other plans.

A/N: I need them both to fuck me up. I thought I posted this here already, but I can't find it anywhere. More poly Satosugu for you guys.

TW: Brat taming, Cunnilingus, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Gay Sex, Dacryphilia, Teasing, Oral Sex, Polyamory, D/S Dynamics, Female Reader, AFAB reader, Praise Kink, Vaginal Penetration

W/C: 5,326

Most of the time, you never caused trouble. Causing trouble was something reserved for Satoru. Suguru was grateful for it. He didn’t think he could handle two trouble makers if he was being honest. It was hard enough to keep a tight leash on Satoru, there was no way he could keep you in line as well.

That didn’t mean you never acted out, though. Most of the time you were Suguru’s angel. His princess. Key word being: most of the time. And it so happened this week you decided you wanted to rebel. 

It all started with grocery shopping at the beginning of the week. Suguru believed it was an honest mistake, really. He sent you out to pick up specific things for dinner. There was even a list clutched tightly in your hands when you left. He didn’t need a lot for the recipe as you already had some of it at home. But there were key ingredients written down that he did need. Ground beef, garlic, eggs, among other things. It was a dinner Suguru had been waiting to try for a long time, and he was really excited to see what your and Satoru’s reactions would be. Except when you came home you didn’t have ground beef, garlic, or eggs. You didn’t have anything on the list in fact. The bags were filled with random food items that looked good to you around the store. Definitely not something Suguru could make into a decent dinner. 

It was an honest mistake, he was sure of it. But the second you saw his eye twitch, there was something that went off in your eyes. It was like the brat inside you was suddenly awoken after being dormant for so long. 

You began to see how much you could get away with before he snapped. Your next stunt was directed towards Satoru. 

The two men had gone out for the day and Satoru was beginning to get antsy. He got like that if he didn’t have his usual amount of sugar. Lucky for him, there was one piece of chocolate cake waiting for him at home. Satoru whipped the door open and saw you sitting on the couch, the only remnants of his cake was frosting that laid on your lips. 

After Satoru had a melt down, Suguru caught your eye and he noticed a gleam in it. Daring him to do something. He decided it would be more torture for you if he didn’t do anything, so that was his plan. 

That was his plan, at least. The final nail in the coffin happened on a bright Saturday afternoon. It was cleaning day for everyone, but you were nowhere in sight. Suguru noticed the sink full of dishes and the unmopped floor and he let out a sigh. He looked everywhere in the house, and finally found you spread out on the bed. Your phone was in your hand while you idly scrolled. 

Suguru stops in the room and breathes out your name. 

Your eyes flick up then return to your screen. 

“Why aren’t you cleaning?” 

You adjust yourself on the bed. 

“Didn't feel like it.” 

Suguru felt heat begin to radiate through his body. He wasn’t really mad at you, but every time you or Satoru was defiant just for the sake of it, he could feel every hair on his body stand on edge. 

“Didn't feel like it?” He repeats and you nod lazily. 

Before you can do anything else on your phone you feel a large warm hand wrap around your ankle, yanking you down the bed. You let out a yelp, your phone flying away from you. 

The reaction you were looking for all week was right in front of you. Suguru leans over the bed, one of your ankles tightly in his grasp. His brows furrow in concentration, his eyes dancing across your face. You feel your skin break out in goosebumps, a low roll of excitement burning in your stomach. 

“That’s what I said.” You counter, not backing down from his eyes, no matter how much your brain begged you to. 

Suguru grabs ahold of your chin and you feel your stomach drop. He stares you down waiting for you to waver but you never do. 

“You’ve been a brat lately.”

“Have I?” 

Your lips twitch in a small smile. Suguru leans down closer to your face, towering over you. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. Black bangs fall down, careful caressing your face. His eyes drop to your lips and back up. Sometimes it was scary not knowing what was going through Suguru’s head. For the most part it never bothered you, but he could be so calculating. His lips lightly trace over yours, not pressing down hard enough to be considered a kiss. 

“You know what happens to brats, don’t you?” 

You spread your legs inviting him in. His hand slides down, guiding down your body. You can already feel the desire for him begin to pool in your stomach. 

“No, what happens?” You say. 

Suguru’s hand lands itself in between your legs, his palm pressing down over your shorts. If you wiggle your hips just right, you can feel it relieve some of your ache. 

He listens as you try to press up into him harder, a pathetic sight. 

He tears his hand away and looks up to see your reaction. He can see a quick flash of desperation cross your face before it quickly leaves. 

“Okay.” You try to play it off. 

He knows you want a reaction. You want him to punish you. Lose control. But brats don’t get what they want, do they? 

Suguru stands up and leaves, leaving you laying dazed and confused on the bed. He comes back shortly though, with your other boyfriend dragging beside him. 

“Suguru! I was-“ Satoru complains but instantly gets cut off. 

Suguru pulls him to the front of the bed and smashes his lips against Satoru’s. Satoru moans softly and stiffens up, before melting into the touch and reaching out to hold Suguru. 

You can’t pull your eyes away. The view in front of you was irresistible. Their lips were locked, hard bodies pressed against each other. Tongues tangle together and you can faintly hear Satoru panting. You weren’t sure what Suguru was getting at, but you couldn’t complain at the view. 

Satoru reaches a hand out blindly, grabbing around until he reaches around your ankle. It was sweet, you thought. Satoru always did something like that when he was getting attention from Suguru. He never wanted you to feel left out. 

You lean into his touch, your body filling up with need. Suguru reaches out and pulls Satoru’s hand back from your leg, interlocking his fingers with Satoru and pulling both of their hands to their bodies. 

Before Satoru can question anything, Suguru breaks the kiss. Their foreheads touch while looking into each other's eyes. 

“Don’t you think she’s been a bad girl lately?” Suguru murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. 

Satoru’s eyes flick over to yours briefly before colliding with Suguru’s once more. 

“She has, hasn’t she?” 

You feel your heart drop. Usually Satoru was defiant, never one to jump on the bandwagon. It was bad enough when Suguru punished you, but when it was both of them it was insurmountable. They worked in tandem so well, always leaving you dizzy. 

Suguru hums, his lips brushing against Satoru. If you weren’t eyeing them so closely, you would’ve missed the shiver than ran up Satoru’s spine. 

“I’m thinking maybe she should sit this one out.” Suguru continues. 

Satoru pulls his head back and turns it to look fully at you. You weren’t aware of how desperate you already looked. Hair a mess from being dragged across the sheets, wide eyes, and a heaving chest. 

“Don’t you agree, Satoru?” Suguru says. 

The way Suguru says Satoru’s name makes your mind blank. It was filled with so much lust, you could barely take it. 

Satoru cracks a grin, his eyes slowly tracing your figure. He turns back toward Suguru and nods, pressing his lips against his once more. 

You want to pout and complain but you knew they wouldn’t pay any attention to you. Once they both put their mind to something, all you could do was enjoy the ride. 

Satoru was more ravenous this second time around. His hands frantically pull Suguru closer to his body. Satoru presses a hand against his cheek while the other winds tightly against his waist. Suguru tangles his fingers in Satoru’s hair while the other hand slides down his body. 

The room felt increasingly hot and all you could do was wriggle on the bed, impatient and needy. 

Soft moans fill the room along with lips smacking. Your mouth felt dry as you watched them. Your hips wiggle from side to side subconsciously. You had two of the most beautiful men in front of you and it left you breathless. They rip each other's shirts off, pressing their toned bodies together. Suguru’s nipple piercings drag against Satoru’s body, and you can see Satoru’s brows furrow in response, his body shuddering in pleasure. 

Satoru’s hand trails down and unbuckles Suguru’s pants. The two quickly shove the garment down, allowing Suguru’s cock to jump free. The sight made your mouth water. Not only were their faces beautiful and their bodies irresistible, their cocks were something sculpted by the gods themselves, you were sure of it. Your hands shook with the need to reach out. 

Satoru tries to pull away from the kiss, Suguru’s lips following his. His teeth latch onto Satoru’s bottom lip, pulling it before letting go. Satoru groans, opening his eyes to reveal a hazy look. 

He looks up at Suguru while sinking to his knees. Your eyes follow his body, watching his hands roam Suguru’s legs and stomach. 

“You gonna play nice today?” Suguru questions, idly running his hand through Satoru’s hair. 

“Figured I might give it a try for once.” Satoru says. 

His tongue sticks out, laying flat against Suguru’s tip. You liked watching Satoru give Suguru head. He was really good at it. It made you think about what their sex life might’ve been like before you. 

Satoru stares up at Suguru while licking his cock. His hands drag up Suguru’s body, running past Suguru’s belly ring. He grabs onto his waist and pulls him in closer to his mouth. 

Satoru wraps his lips around the head of Suguru’s cock, slowly taking in more. Suguru’s breath hitches as he watches his cock envelope into Satoru’s warm mouth. It only takes him several seconds before Satoru’s nose is buried deep in Suguru’s pelvis. If the light caught perfectly, you could see the spit shining on Satoru’s chin. 

Neither paid you any mind, your heavy breathing going unnoticed or ignored. Your legs shuffled against each other, your elbows propping you up. 

If they wanted to, they could go at it for hours like this. You weren’t sure how evil they were feeling today. 

Satoru groans, feeling Suguru’s cock hit the back of his throat. He gags a little before pulling back, all the while his tongue strokes against Suguru’s cock. 

“Okay guys, I get it, you can s-“ You begin. 

Your words die in your throat once you see Satoru’s lips release Suguru completely. Strings of spit connect the two, a sight so lewd you thought you might’ve died and gone to heaven. 

Satoru looks at you from the corner of his eyes, your dazed gaze locked on his mouth and Suguru’s cock. He tries to suppress a smile. The two of them knew how riled up you got when watching them, but they weren’t expecting you to be this caught up. 

Satoru glances back to Suguru, already finding his eyes trained on him. He wraps his hand around Suguru’s cock, slowly stroking it while he licks the underside of Suguru’s tip. As composed as Suguru looked, Satoru knew the truth. He could tell in the way Suguru’s fingers twitched at his side, how his shoulders tensed every time Satoru slid his cock in his mouth. 

Suguru might like to pretend he was this stoic man, but to Satoru he was an open book. One he’s read many, many times before. 

Satoru’s eyelashes flutter when he takes Suguru’s cock in one more time. He bobs his head faster than before, driven only by the cloud of lust that loomed over his head. If it weren’t for Suguru pulling his mouth off, Satoru would’ve continued for hours, always finding himself completely at home in between his partners legs. 

“Bend over for me.” Suguru says breathlessly. 

Satoru smiles, standing up. He watches as Suguru saunters away to the bedside drawer, looking for a bottle of lube. 

Satoru turns around facing you fully, his facade almost dropping when he meets your eyes. The expression is one he’s well acquainted with, as you wore it often. Your eyes were peeled wide open, lips trembling and parted. Your body fidgets under his gaze. You looked torn between holding up your bratty persona, or saying fuck it and begging for them. He thought it was cute how desperately you clung to pretending to be unbothered. Satoru would like to say he looked like that too when he got in his moods, but he knew he didn’t. Satoru didn’t have the patience to keep it up. If he wanted something, he cut the shit and wasn’t afraid to get on his hands and knees and beg. 

“Poor baby.” He cooes at you, leaning forward. 

He leans over close to your face, his presence instantly overwhelming. You scramble back, your body only stopping once you hit the head of the bed. 

“You could have this too if you only weren’t such a bad girl.” He pretends to pity you. He doesn’t, not really. 

He crawls on the bed, fully getting into position for Suguru. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his. 

“I don’t need it.” You boast, hoping your trembling voice doesn’t give you away. 

“No? You don’t need it? You don’t need me or Suguru? Bunny, I’m hurt.” Satoru pretends to frown. 

He inches up further, caging you in with his arms. You keep your chin held high, despite the fact his bright blues were seconds away from making you crumble. 

“Let’s see if that’s true.” He says. 

Satoru stuffs a hand in your shorts, the action causing you to jump. His fingers quickly find their way inside your underwear, the fabric soaked. 

Satoru groans loudly, his lips parting. His eyes remain on yours while his long finger skims your slit, dipping down into your hole. 

The tip of his finger sneaks into your pussy, the stretch making you throw your head back. Satoru likes playing with his food first, so he takes his time in seating his finger in you fully. 

Once his finger was fully sheathed in you, he curled it up. You raise your hands up, the last bits of control you had, ebbing away. You refuse to grab onto him and ask for more. 

“Oh bunny.” He moans obscenely. 

Satoru slowly drags his finger in and out, each time his finger retreats you want to yell. You couldn’t focus on Suguru anymore. A dull hum of pleasure flows through your veins. Satoru slides a second finger in to join the other, easing both back in. 

Satoru pumps his fingers inside you, your walls clinging desperately to him. He loved when you were a needy, teary eyed mess, pouting for attention. The only thing he loved more than that was when you were bratty. He liked seeing you put up a fight, pretending not to be their good girl. It made it all the more enjoyable when you finally gave into your desires. 

The only other person who enjoyed it more was- 

“Satoru.” Suguru’s stern voice comes up from behind Satoru. 

You’re filled with emptiness when Satoru pulls his fingers out of you. Satoru turns his head back and grins at Suguru. 

“What? You were busy.” 

“I was gone for less than a minute.” 

“I gotta keep myself entertained somehow.” 

“Can’t do that and keep your hands to yourself?”

“No, she’s too tempting.” 

Suguru grabs onto Satoru’s hips, dragging them back a bit so he’s no longer looming above you. 

Satoru feels cool liquid drip over his ass. Suguru grabs his ass and spreads it, watching the way the lube drips down coating Satoru’s hole. 

He rubs two fingers over his asshole, keeping a firm grip on Satoru. Satoru’s head hangs low, waiting on bated breath as Suguru presses his fingers in. 

Why start off slow? He needed to be inside Satoru now. 

You moan softly at the sight in front of you, the air feeling too hot. Satoru looks up at you, pressing his ass further back. He really wanted to see you naked. Satoru knew they were supposed to be punishing you, but it felt a bit unfair to punish himself too. 

“Take your clothes off, give Satoru something to look at.” Suguru says. 

The heavy tone of his voice makes your body move by itself. Your clothes are torn off, tossed over the edge of the bed. Satoru licks his lips once he’s met with your exposed body, your dripping pussy put on full display in front of him. Suguru moves his fingers faster, his eyes peering over to look at you. Your hole looked something desperate, wet and clenching around air. He was hoping Satoru wouldn’t rile you up more, but maybe his expectations were too high. 

Satoru fully expected to feel Suguru’s cock press against him, but Suguru stepped away from Satoru. 

Suguru dug around and found a toy, a dildo comparable to Satoru and his size. He handed it to you, your eyes jumping back and forth between him and the toy. 

“Since Satoru couldn’t help himself.” 

You grab it and pull it close to your body. You were grateful to have something fill you up, but you wanted it to be Satoru or Suguru, not this. 

Suguru settles himself behind Satoru once more, lining his cock up with Satoru’s hole. 

Satoru eyes you hungrily as you trace the toy down your slit, your eyes low. 

Suguru presses the tip of his cock into Satoru, making him let out a shaky breath. 

The second Suguru pushes inside Satoru, you press on the toy sliding it into you. Satoru’s salacious moans fill the room as Suguru pulls back and slams in once more. Even though the toy was close in size, it wasn’t comparable to the two men. 

Your hand works deftly at plunging the toy inside your heat, the sight in front of you egging you on. Satoru’s hands clasp at the bed sheets, a permanent expression of pleasure drawn on his face. He watches you intently, focused on the way your pussy stretches around the toy. 

His head bows down and he purses his lips, letting some of his spit collect before it slowly descends on top of your pussy. The extra fluid only makes the toy glide easier in you, feeling even better than before. 

“Satoru, oh-“ You moan. The sight was borderline pornographic. 

Your head falls back, your chest heaving as you try to breathe. 

“Eyes on me bunny.” Satoru tries to make his voice sound even, but Suguru wasn’t letting him. 

You gather all your strength and look forward. The toy plunges deep inside you, grazing against your sweet spot with every movement. It felt like some kind of cruel joke. You had two impeccable cocks at your disposal, but you were forced to use something fake that couldn’t amount to even half the pleasure they would give you. 

You catch the way Suguru’s hand reaches forward, grabbing a fistful of white hair. Satoru whines, the feeling pushing him closer to the deep end. Suguru reaches around Satoru’s hips with his other hand, running his palm over Satoru’s cock. Satoru moans loud, hand shaking against the bed. He grabs your calf, dropping his head and pressing his face into the muscle. You feel hot breaths in succession beating against your leg. 

Satoru’s legs shake from the pleasure. He felt like he might be able to compose himself, but then Suguru’s soft touch reached down to slide against his balls. 

“Fuck, Suguru…” Satoru moans breathlessly. 

Suguru holds Satoru’s balls tenderly while slamming into him from behind, the sight in front of him making his head fog. His two babies, absolutely ruined in front of him. 

“So tight Satoru, you’re such a good boy aren’t you?” Suguru cooes down at him. 

Tears bubble in your eyes, desperate to receive the same praise as Satoru. The toy pushes into you, making your palm graze your swollen clit. It needed more attention, it ached something fierce. 

Your fingers from your other hand trail down, skimming over your clit. Your moans increase in volume, snapping the men from their daze. 

“Hey, keep your hands to yourself.” Suguru orders. He had only allowed you to use the toy, nothing more. Suguru slams his hips forward once with more force, causing Satoru to push forward. 

His asshole ached from Suguru’s ministrations, but he never would dream of telling him to slow down. 

A low whine emits from your throat, the idea of leaving your clit be made you want to cry. 

“I don’t remember giving her permission to do that, do you Satoru?” Suguru questions, slick eyes staring into you. 

Suguru was a kind man, a soft man, but when he wanted to he could be terrifying. 

Satoru’s breath falters as he tries to regain some semblance of composure. 

“Hngg, n-no I didn’t, didn’t give her permission, fuck…” Satoru stutters out. 

You tear your hand away and instead grasp at the sheets below you. 

Suguru looks down at Satoru and watches how his back flexes. His shoulder blades curve as he holds himself up, clinging to some sense of sanity. He can practically feel how bad Satoru’s cock ached beneath him. 

Suguru removes his grasp on Satoru’s balls, jutting his fingers in front of Satoru’s lips. He doesn’t even need to speak for Satoru to understand what he needed to do. 

Satoru lets spit drip from his mouth, collecting on Suguru’s long fingers. Suguru hums contentedly and brings his hand back, coating Satoru’s sensitive balls in the spit. 

Suguru rubs them gently while pushing into Satoru’s ass. 

You watch Suguru’s fingers clench Satoru’s hair tightly, no doubt a low thrum of pain shooting in his scalp. Your hand aches at how it needs to be contorted to fuck yourself, but you were too needy to stop. 

You wouldn’t be able to cum like this, and maybe that’s why Suguru was okay with letting you do it. 

You had one last weapon in your arsenal, and you hoped to god it would work. 

“S-satoru.” You mewl pathetically. 

Satoru’s eyes fill with more lust if that was even possible, and you watch as he pulls away from your calf. 

He looks at you through heavy white lashes, trying to keep his gaze focused on you while he pushes his upper body up. The skin on your leg already missed his touch.

Suguru might want to reprimand you, but Satoru might give in. 

“Yeah bunny?” 

You slow your hand down, fucking yourself at a languid pace. 

You moan out, craving something to push you over the edge. 

“What do you need?” Hard eyes set on you. 

“Need more Satoru, please baby, please.” You wiggle your hips down, attempting to fuck down onto the toy. 

He gives a small grin before moaning out once more. He had a tough job, juggling two positions. He needed to look strong for you, but it was hard to do that when Suguru was decimating his insides. 

Satoru lets Suguru keep him steady by his hips while he reaches forward, hands wrapping around your waist and dragging you down. Your pussy is placed directly under his face, and the sight was enticing. 

“Oh honey, you’re dripping.” He groans. 

His ass jiggles against Suguru’s hips. Suguru heaves out a heavy sigh as Satoru leans down, licking from the base of the toy all the way up to your tortured clit. 

“Ah! Thank you Satoru thank you!” You plead. 

“Satoru.” Suguru reprimands, pulling his hand from his hair to get a better grip on his hips. 

Suguru saw it coming really. Satoru liked the idea of punishing you, but he never was able to do it. Satoru gave into his desires too quickly every time. At least Suguru was able to save some face, refusing to give in until you learned your lesson. 

Suguru’s fingers press into Satoru’s hips, while he pistons himself forward. He could feel Satoru’s walls clenching down on his cock, making it almost impossible to pull out. 

You squirm around the bed trying to push the toy inside you while Satoru licks your clit. His soft pink flesh draws circles around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. 

“Let go.” He murmurs against you. 

You reluctantly let go of the toy, digging your teeth into your tongue. Satoru takes over and wraps his hand around the base of the toy, slowly beginning to fuck you with it. 

“Shit, fuck, Satoru wait!” You groan, not sure whether you want to arch into his touch or away from it. 

He keeps himself propped up with one hand while using the other to drive the toy further into you. He’s mesmerized by the sound it makes, closing his eyes and letting his tongue guide him. Your squeals fall on deaf ears as he fucks you with the pseudocock, listening as you get closer to the edge. 

Suguru feels Satoru’s ass clench around him as he gets more turned on by indulging in you. He can tell he’s close to the edge and all Suguru can focus on is spurring him over. He speeds his thrusts up, hearing the way Satoru groans into you. 

“Gonna cum for me pretty boy?” Suguru pants, feeling his cock twitch. 

“Yes, yes suguru!” He whines, sloppily licking your folds. 

“Say it again, correctly this time.” Suguru throws his head back, his eyes closing. 

“Yes sir, gonna cum for you, gonna cum hard, fuck, please!” 

Satoru erratically fucks you with the toy, the pace dizzying to you. You want to beg him to slow down, but you don’t think he’d be able to hear you over the sounds of his moans. You don’t think he’d listen anyway. 

Suguru pulls Satoru’s ass back, shoving him over the edge. Satoru whimpers as his cock twitches, cum shooting out dirtying your sheets below. As he cums, Suguru groans and forces himself to look down. He wanted to last longer but there was absolutely no way he was going to. His face pinches while he cums deep in Satoru. 

Satoru slows down as he tries to regain composure, but you’re so far off the deep end that pleas fall from your lips. 

“Please don’t stop, please more I, I-“ Tears fill your waterline, your body breaking down from being teased for so long. 

Satoru looks up at you, a new sense of energy filling him immediately. He places slow soft kisses around your pussy, your body twitching each time he makes contact. Suguru hisses as he pulls out of Satoru, eyes glued to the way his cum begins to drip out of his hole. 

Satoru crawls closer to you on his knees, finally stable enough. One of his hands starts to slowly build up speed with the toy while the other holds your thigh up, keeping you spread for him. 

“I got you bunny.” He soothes, dipping his tongue out to lick against you. 

You’re so far removed that you don’t even notice Suguru until the bed dips beside you. He sits next to your head, his beautiful hand smoothing your hair. You whimper, head leaning into his touch. 

“Satoru’s so nice to you baby, don’t you think?” He asks. 

Your words are incoherent at this point but he thinks you murmur an agreement. 

“Gonna reward him then? Cum for him?” 

Satoru’s eyes flick up to see your response and the look on your face almost sends all the blood draining back to his cock. You look wrecked, torn apart. Your hair was disheveled, tears staining your cheeks. 

You prop yourself up once more by your arms, needing to see the way Satoru pleasured you. He was a beautiful, beautiful man. 

Suguru wraps one arm in front of you, crossing over your chest to stop you from caving in on yourself. His other hand drapes around you, trailing up your hot sticky skin. You grab his hand and bring it close to your lips, desperate to have something fill your empty mouth. 

Suguru watches, always amazed at how you somehow got sexier. His two fingers fill your mouth, resting against your tongue. It helps your moans from spilling out, instead getting buried against his skin. Suguru’s pinky and thumb hold each side of your cheeks while he slowly finger fucks your mouth, watching as Satoru sucks your clit. 

You claw at the arm containing you. You wanted to curl in on yourself, you were quickly finding all the attention to be too much. Satoru speeds up his hand, tilting it so the toy beats against your sweet spot each time it enters. Your body tenses as you feel yourself cum, body scrambling beneath their strong hold. 

Suguru slowly drags his fingers out of your mouth but continues to hold you as you settle down. Satoru pulls the toy from you and licks up all your spilt cum. Your body stills in Suguru’s hold, your sniffling being the only sound in the room. 

Satoru places the toy to the side and helps lay your legs down. Seconds ago your body was brimming with electricity, but now you felt burnt out. Suguru leans down and kisses your head, standing up to move you so he can sit fully on the bed. He never once lets go of you, and picks you up to place you on his lap once he’s sat. He holds you as you tremble in his grasp, all emotions from the moment finally washing over you. 

“You did so good, baby.” He whispers, holding you tight against his chest. 

You nod and look up, meeting his gaze. He wears a soft smile as he fixes your hair for you. 

“Did I?” You ask, sounding hopeful. 

“Yes, you were perfect for us.” His eyes trace your face as if he needs to memorize each individual line. He does this even though he already committed them to memory years ago. 

“I’m sorry for being mean to you guys, I didn’t…” You try to hold back tears, regret flooding over you. 

You didn’t want to be mean to them, and the idea of hurting their feelings weighed heavily over you. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Suguru presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Punishments aren’t a bad thing baby. Sometimes you just need to be reminded, that’s all. Everyone can be a brat sometimes, just ask Satoru.” 

“Hey, I heard that.” Satoru grumbles, shuffling in bed, sitting beside Suguru. 

“I know you did.” Suguru tilts his head back and gives a small smirk to Satoru. 

They both share a quick kiss before returning their attention to you. 

Suguru initially preferred to watch you be forced to watch them, body screaming for their touch, but he was content with what happened as well. Each time you fell apart for them was something he loved. 

“I love you baby.” 

“I love you bunny.” 

Heat rises to your cheek and you wrap your arms around their shoulders, burying your face between them. 

“I love you both.” 

Being a brat hardly worked in your favor. 

But maybe for tonight it did. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list

[peterman-spideyparker]

Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)

Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.

Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying

Other Characters: Karen Page

Word Count: 1,158

“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.

“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.

“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.

“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.

“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”

“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”

“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”

“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”

“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”

“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”

“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”

“Love you, too.”

You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.

“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.

“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.

“What time is it?”

She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”

“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”

“I think so.”

“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”

Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.

As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.

“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.

Nutmeg.

Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.

“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”

You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.

“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”

“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”

“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”

“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.

“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”

“The label,” he echos softly.

“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”

“You really love me, huh?”

He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”

Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[appocalipse]

how about stevie coming home from work and finding reader making dinner for him and he's just 😏😏

there you go | mdni

"Hello," he murmurs, voice a husky rasp against your neck. "I'm home."

You laugh. "Hi, honey. How was work?"

"Boring," he says, planting kisses down the line of your jaw. "Can I help with dinner?"

You swallow, trying to focus on slicing the garlic instead of the feel of his warm lips. "Dinner?"

"Yeah. You know...that thing you're making?" He slides his hands down your hips.

"Not with you distracting me, I won't be." You can feel him smiling against your neck as his hands slide back up your sides, warm even through the fabric of your t-shirt. He's not usually this needy. "Why are you home so early?"

"Closed the store," he murmurs, busy working his way along your shoulder, tugging your shirt to the side. His fingers leave a tingling trail. "I missed you."

"Missed me?"

"Mmm. I thought about you all day."

You pause. He did?

"Yeah. Like...this morning when I was showering, and I had to stop because it got a little too intense thinking about how good you looked in that little sundress yesterday."

"That?" you ask, surprised. It was a standard sun dress. Nothing sexy about it. But you're not complaining.

He chuckles, breath hot against your neck. "Mmhmm. When you bent over to pick up the newspaper, I almost lost it."

"Steve!" You laugh.

"Sorry," he says, unrepentant. His hand is back on your hip, his other trailing down the side of your neck. His touch makes you shiver. "You looked so damn good. I just wanted to..."

"To...?"

"Push you against the wall. Lift that skirt up. Watch your eyes go wide while I—"

"Steve!" Your face is warm. You put the knife down and turn around, unable to take his teasing any longer. "That's it. No dinner for you."

[half-oz-eddie]

🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better. 

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk. 

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it. 

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her. 

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there. 

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered. 

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.” 

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy. 

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely. 

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down. 

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned. 

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down. 

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked. 

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled.  “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch. 

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them. 

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday. 

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating. 

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.” 

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery. 

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk. 

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind. 

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’

[colorthecosmos444]

My Cherie Amour

by cece & lele ★

Sweet Like Cherries Part Two

Summary: Matt and Reader didn't intend on having a first date yet, but little do they know Nick and Chris have something special planned for them. Afterall, they are Matt's best wingmen.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2501

A/N: this is co-written by the amazing @vanteguccir !!!! please go give her account some love and read her work. lele thanks for being my best friend. 💗

☾ ★☀ ☾ ★☀ ☾  ★☾ ★☀ ☾ ★☀ ☾  ★☾ ★☀ ☾ ★

Matt’s lips devour mine as we sit in the parking lot of the local grocery store. We were able to go inside and get whatever Chris needed, but as soon as we bought the items and got back to the car, we both completely forgot our given task of returning home. Hands roaming each other, our breaths hot and heavy, I am completely lost in his touch. Time has melted away and my brain is on fire, thinking about the way Matt’s lips move against mine so tenderly. His hand holding the back of my neck, his playlist softly filling the car with the sound of Mac Miller’s voice.

A moan escapes from my throat, diving into the kiss. Matt´s lips form a smirk against mine before moving a bit more aggressively, his fingers tugging my hair and his broad shoulders leaning over me as he pushes me against my seat.

I pull away, gasping for air and clinging to the collar of his shirt. “Matt,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath, “we should probably get going before this milk gets spoiled.” He rests his head against my forehead, looking into my eyes.

“I really don’t want to, though,” he mutters, pecking my lips again before sighing and buckling himself back in and starting the car. “We should get back, otherwise Nick and Chris are gonna give me hell.” I giggle at his frustration, buckling myself in and reaching over to hold Matt’s hand as he drives us back to his house.

—----------------

Back at home, Nick and Chris stood in the kitchen, surveying the array of ingredients spread out on the counter. The soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clatter of utensils were the only sounds breaking the silence. Chris adjusted his apron, emblazoned with the pathetic phrase “Kiss the Cook,” while Nick fiddled with the stove knobs, trying to remember which burner was which.

“Alright, Chef Boyardee.” Chris started, raising an eyebrow at Nick. “What’s the game plan?”

Nick glanced at the recipe book open on the counter, scratching his head.

“Well, it looks like we’re making pasta, salad, garlic bread, and we can use the Maraschino Cherry cake for dessert. Should be easy enough, right?”

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

“Easy, he says. We can barely boil water without setting off the smoke alarm. Why are we doing all of this again?”

“Details, details.” Nick muttered, flipping the recipe book to the first page. “We are supposed too be Matt’s wingmen, and we told him that we’d help him out. Let's give them a nice romantic evening. We can start with the pasta. How hard can it be to boil some water and throw in some noodles?”

As Nick filled a large pot with water and set it on the stove, Chris rummaged through the pantry, pulling out a bag of pasta.

“What about the sauce? We need to make that from scratch, right?”

Nick glanced at the recipe, his index finger sliding on the crisp page momentarily, nodding seconds after.

“Yeah, looks like it. We need tomatoes, garlic, onions, and some spices. You start chopping the veggies, and I’ll get the water boiling.”

Chris grabbed a cutting board and a knife, starting with the onions.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if we actually knew what we were doing.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, it’s for Matt and Y/N. They deserve a special night.” Nick smirked, stirring the pot of water.

Chris rolled his eyes, his cornea burning and taking on a red hue, tears starting to pool from the onions, a hiss escaping through his gritted teeth.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let the water boil over while you’re daydreaming about being a master chef.” As Chris continued chopping, Nick added the pasta to the boiling water, giving it a stir.

“I’m not daydreaming. I’m focusing.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Chris retorted, tossing the chopped onions and garlic into a pan with a splash of olive oil. The kitchen filled with the fragrant aroma of sautéing vegetables, making their stomachs rumble.

Nick grabbed the tomatoes, quickly chopping them up and adding them to the pan.

“How’s it looking, Chef?” His tone was a mix of formality and bitterness.

Chris stirred the mixture, nodding approvingly.

“Not bad. Let’s add some spices and let it simmer.”

As the sauce bubbled away, Nick turned his attention to the garlic bread. He sliced a loaf of French bread in half, slathering it with butter and a generous amount of minced garlic.

“Think we can handle putting this in the oven without burning it?”

Chris smirked, grabbing the tray of bread.

“Only one way to find out.” He slid the tray into the oven, staring at the buttons above it before finally setting a timer. “Now, what about the salad?”

“Lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes…what else?” Nick rummaged through the fridge, pulling out a variety of fresh vegetables.

Chris looked around, his hands resting on his hips, thinking

“Maybe some carrots and a bit of cheese?”

“Sounds good. Can’t believe we even have all this in the fridge.” Nick uttered, washing the vegetables and setting them on the counter. They worked together, slicing and dicing, occasionally bickering over the best way to cut a cucumber or how thin the carrot slices should be.

As they finished the salad, the timer for the garlic bread went off. Chris carefully pulled the tray from the oven, the golden-brown bread filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma.

“I think we actually did it.” He said, a note of surprise in his voice, his blue eyes widened.

Nick peeked at the pasta sauce, giving it a final stir.

“Don’t jinx it. We still have to bake the cake.”

Chris groaned, glancing at the clock.

“Right. Dessert. How hard can it be?”

They turned their attention to the cake, grabbing the decadent batter that they made earlier. Despite their lack of culinary expertise, they managed to get the cake into the oven without too much trouble.

As the cake baked, Nick and Chris tidied up the kitchen, occasionally sneaking tastes of the pasta sauce and garlic bread.

“You know.” Nick said, leaning against the counter. “We might just pull this off.”

“Yeah, it’s not half bad. And it’s for a good cause.” Chris nodded, a satisfied smile on his face.

Nick grinned, glancing at the clock.

“We should get everything set up. They’ll be home soon.”

Together, they arranged the table, lighting the candles and placing the bouquet of flowers Chris had ordered from doordash in the center. The pasta was plated, the salad placed in a large bowl, and the garlic bread arranged neatly on a serving tray. As they finished, the timer for the cake went off, and Chris pulled it from the oven, the sweet scent of cherries filling the room.

They iced the cake, their movements careful and messy, but turning it pretty either way. They topped it off with a couple cherries, completing their duties. Once everything was ready, they stepped back, admiring their efforts.

“I think we did good.” Nick said, a note of pride in his voice. “We should become chefs someday.”

Chris laughed nasally, nodding and clapping his brother on the back before crossing his arms.

“Yeah, we did. Now, let’s hope they love it.”

Just as they finished, they heard the front door open, and Matt and Y/N’s voices filled the house. Nick and Chris exchanged a grin, ready to surprise their brother and his girlfriend with the romantic dinner they had worked so hard to create.

—------------

As we arrive back home, Matt parks the car and turns to me, smiling his big goofy smile that makes me swoon. He leans in and kisses me a few times before grabbing the plastic bag of groceries from the back seat.

Matt’s smile is infectious as he steps out of the car, grocery bag in hand. I follow him to the front door, our fingers brushing together, sending little sparks of excitement through me. He unlocked the door, being careful to not drop his keychain on the ground, before pushing the door open.

We start our steps on the short stairs towards the living room and kitchen. As soon as I step into the room, I immediately sense something different.

“Why are the lights dimmed?” I ask, squinting slightly in the low light, the soft glow casting mysterious shadows across the walls.

Matt glances around, a look of genuine surprise and confusion crossing his face.

“I have no idea. Nick? Chris? You guys home?” He calls out, his voice echoing through the seemingly empty house.

We walk further into the house, the familiar tap of our feet against the cold floor echoing through the walls, guiding us toward the kitchen. As we round the corner, I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. The kitchen table is set up beautifully, with elegant tapered candles flickering softly, casting a warm, romantic glow around the room. A bouquet of fresh flowers sits in the center, their delicate petals adding a splash of color to the intimate setting. The aroma of a delicious meal wafts through the air, tantalizing my senses.

“Surprise!” Nick and Chris appear from the small hall that leads to Matt´s bedroom, grinning widely, their faces lit up with excitement. Their loud screams make me jump slightly, moving closer to Matt automatically.

“Guys, what is this?” Matt asks, clearly stunned, his eyes wide with amazement and hesitancy.

Chris steps forward, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses, his movements graceful and deliberate.

“We thought you two could use a special night. You know, a little romance.” He winks at me, his playful expression making me smile, shaking my head in disbelief.

Nick claps Matt on the back, a brotherly gesture filled with affection.

“We’ve got everything under control. Dinner is ready, and we’ll be your servers for the evening.”

I glance at Matt, his eyes shining with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know?” He says, his voice soft and sincere, a breathy laugh escaping his half-opened mouth.

Nick shrugs, smiling warmly.

“We wanted to. You two deserve it.”

Chris motions for us to sit at the table, pulling out a chair with a flourish.

“Please, have a seat. Dinner will be served shortly.” He raises his face with a snobbish expression, embodying a real waiter.

Matt, ever the gentleman, pulls out my chair, gesturing for me to sit before he takes his place across from me. The candlelight flickers, casting a soft, golden glow over his features, highlighting the warmth in his eyes. He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his, his touch sending a wave of comfort through me.

“This is incredible.” I whisper, squeezing his hand gently. “I can’t believe they did this.”

Matt’s eyes soften, a look of pure affection in them.

“Me neither. But I’m glad they did.”

Chris and Nick move around the kitchen with practiced ease, serving us a sumptuous meal of perfectly cooked pasta, golden garlic bread, and a fresh, crisp salad. They work seamlessly together, their movements synchronized as they make us feel like royalty. We laugh and talk, the atmosphere filled with love and warmth, each moment more precious than the last.

As we finish our meal, Nick brings out the mouthwatering maraschino cherry cake for dessert, his eyes twinkling with pride.

“Hope you saved room for this.” He says with a grin, setting the cake down in front of us.

Matt and I share a piece, feeding each other bites with playful tenderness, giggling like kids.

“I think we did a pretty damn good job, even though you were blind,” Matt chuckles, indulging in another bite of the delicious dessert.

“That’s only because I had the best helper,” I flirt, winking at him and letting out a soft giggle.

The evening feels magical, every moment perfect, as if we’ve stepped into a fairy tale.

When dinner is over, Chris and Nick clear the table with a flourish, leaving us with the last of the wine. Matt leans back in his chair, his eyes locked onto mine, a smile playing on his lips that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Thank you for tonight.” I say softly to Nick and Chris, my voice filled with gratitude and a hint of awe at the magical evening we’ve had. “This has been amazing.”

“No need to thank us, it was our pleasure,” Nick insists.

Chris walks over to the tv in the living room and sets up his music.

“I’m going to get this party started for you,” he teases, playing a slow romantic song from a premade playlist on Spotify.

Nick and Chris smirk at us and wander upstairs, leaving us alone in the dimly lit room.

“You want to dance, beautiful?” Matt asks.

I feel a warm blush creep up my cheeks, his words enveloping me like a gentle embrace. There’s a sincerity in his tone that touches the deepest parts of my heart.

“I love you, Matt.” I whisper, the words carrying all the depth of my feelings for him.

He stands, moving around the table with a purposeful grace. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every step that brings him closer to me. When he reaches my side, he pulls me up into his arms, the warmth of his body comforting and familiar.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He whispers, his voice filled with emotion, resonating with a quiet intensity that sends shivers down my spine. He presses a gentle kiss to my lips, the touch soft and tender, yet powerful in its simplicity.

We stand there, wrapped up in each other, the flickering candlelight casting a warm, intimate glow around us. The soft glow highlights the contours of Matt’s face, the shadows dancing playfully across his features. It feels as though the world outside has faded away, leaving just the two of us, swaying to the rhythm of the love song, lost in the magic of the moment.

The room is filled with a serene silence, apart from the voice of Stevie Wonder dancing in the air. It’s the kind that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. The scents of the evening mingle with the faint hint of wine, creating a sensory tapestry that is both soothing and intoxicating. Matt’s arms around me are a safe haven, a place where I feel completely at ease and utterly cherished.

With a soft sigh, I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It’s a sound that brings me peace, a reminder of the deep bond we share. Years of friendship now blossoming into a deep passionate love story. Matt’s fingers gently stroke my hair, his touch light and reassuring. In his arms, I feel completely and utterly loved, as if nothing in the world could ever harm me.

☾ ★☀ ☾ ★☀ ☾  ★☾ ★☀ ☾ ★☀ ☾  ★☾ ★☀ ☾ ★

tag list: @aurora-merritt @spideylovin @watercolorskyy @esioleren @luvbotsblog @bernardsbendystraws @lovekaiya @pouring-rains @1800-love-me @flouvela @fratbrochrisgf @demzzz @vanteguccir

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 <3

𝔫𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

love you all to the stars, cece ★

[i-luvsang]

as your college neighbors — ateez hyung line

pairing : ateez hyung line x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, neighbor!au, college!au ➖⟢ cw : food mentions, a tiny bit of feeling insecure in yeo's part ➖⟢ wc : 0.9K

[ 🦪 ] hongjoong — oftentimes, your apartment is like a refuge to him. he gets moments of quiet, so long as the other boys haven’t crashed there for their fun times. even better, though, he gets you. even if you’re off to class three minutes after he’s arrived, the sight of you packing your backpack the same way you always do is a  comfort enough for him amongst the chaos that’s swirling around him. you smile at him before swinging open the front door, reminding him that he’s free to any of the food in your kitchen (except the last few garlic cloves that you’re saving for a recipe). you make him laugh like you always do. as if he’d find reason to help himself to your waning supply of fresh garlic. little do you know, he picked up more garlic at the grocery store yesterday because he noticed you running out of it last time he was here, and he knows how much you use it in your cooking. he’ll be gone by the time you get back, he’s got classes in the evening, but you’ll see the extra ingredients right before you start to make dinner and it’ll make you smile, maybe even kiss him on the cheek next time he comes over like you do sometimes. it makes him wonder what he is to you, but no matter what, your smile alone is everything he could ever ask for.

[ 🦪 ] seonghwa — he worries, that’s all. now your fridge is full of food and it’s all from him. it started with his leftovers, after he made too much food for him and his roommate hongjoong. he didn’t even notice that you popped into his head before any of the other boys to share with this time. surely, he still give them food, but they’re stuck with the leftovers. for the record, the leftovers are amazing, and you were more than grateful for them. but at some point, as hongjoong rests on your couch for some peace of mind, you realize the dishes in your fridge are no longer leftovers from last night. you ask hongjoong if he wants any bibimbap to munch on before remembering outloud he probably ate that for dinner last night. he denies it; he ate out last night with seonghwa, yunho, and mingi. that’s how you find out that this morning’s “leftover” delivery was made just for you and it turns out that half the dishes you get for free are too. you confront seonghwa, trying to tell him not to spend all the time and money it must take for these meals on you. he tells you it’s no big deal, but now you’re always asking hwa over just so you can make him a meal. sitting in your space, looking at you from across your small dining table, seonghwa is convinced that he’s met an angel.

[ 🦪 ] yunho — he loves it when you text him that you’re on the way over. that way he can look out his bedroom window and catch sight of you walking in through the apartment complex’s front door. what he loves even more is you seated on the edge of his bed (or even better, you all the way up on it, your back resting against his pillows). something about you in his space, all comfortable and sweet looking, has his heart doing backflips. in his mind, you belong there, with him. you fit in with his things somehow, just as if it’s the only thing that could be right. sure, he loves to visit your apartment, to see you in the place where you’re most at home. it’s just that he finds pride in the fact that you look like you’re at home in his place too. it makes him happy that his space can be somewhere that you can let out a deep sigh and feel okay grabbing a snack from the kitchen after class because you came straight here from campus. call him “delusional,” as wooyoung might, but it makes him feel like you’re kinda, just a little bit, his.

[ 🦪 ] yeosang — he only comes over when one of the other guys is too, because, to be so honest, he’s too shy to go over by himself. but he loves being your neighbor. he loves knowing you’re right down the hall, he loves when you knock on his door and he opens it to the sight of you in your pajamas and a shy smile on your face. his heart drops just a bit when you ask him if san is around because secretly, so secretly, he wishes you would knock on the door looking so pretty just for him. but he thinks it makes sense. who wouldn’t want to be around san, one of the sweetest, brightest, most affectionate people out there? yeosang’s awkward and unable to show you physically or verbaly that he kind of adores you. san has no trouble with that, and yeosang sees the way it makes you smile. he wants to make you smile like that. regardless, he tells you that san went out with seonghwa and jongho and expects to lovely smile on your face to slip just a little. instead, it grows a bit, not because san’s gone, but because all you need from him is to return the textbook you borrowed and you really came because you want spend time with yeosang. you want to know him, because his awkwardness is so incredibly endearing and you don’t hear his voice as often as you’d like since you’re never alone with him. that day he finds out he’s good at making you smile, too.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Testing One, Two, Three (S.R. Smut +18)

Summary: (Spencer Reid x Fem Reader) Spencer comes home, after a long week of being away, with a bag full of (sexy) surprises.

Content Warnings: Sex toy use, praise kink, dirty talk, mutual self pleasure, coming undone, overstimulation, very light submissive (Reader) dominant (Spencer) dynamics, talk of anal sex & pegging

Word Count: 3.3K

Note: This is one that I have had saved in my drafts for a very long time! And I just had the inspiration to finish it a couple days ago.

Testing One, Two, Three

It wasn’t strange for Spencer to make trips to the grocery store, to the used bookstore, or the pharmacy before making his way back to Y/N’s storybook Tudor home after work.

This evening proved to be not unlike the others. Spencer, driving his powder blue Volvo pulls into Y/N’s driveway. She watches from the windows as he takes out his satchel, his overnight bag, and other large black shopping bags. It didn’t look like it was from the grocery store and their local bookstore didn’t give customers plastic bags. Curious, Y/N unlocks the door for Spencer, deciding to meet him at her front stoop instead of in the kitchen or the hallway like normal.

“Hey there, love,” Spencer says, the nickname brushing off his lips with ease. He looks tired and worn down. Y/N thinks that traveling through two different time zones and not getting enough sleep is a way to do that to a person, but she decides she’ll keep that to herself and just usher Spencer to bed earlier tonight.

“Oh, Spence. I really missed you,” she confesses, breathing in his familiar scent. It's a little different. He smells like cheap hotel shampoo and stale coffee, not like his usual minty and green tea body wash and expensive coffee beans. 

Spencer sighs into her neck, swaying slightly as he holds Y/N in his arms on her front stoop. His bags, even the mysterious black on, lay neglected on the ground by their feet.

“I know, Y/N. I know, sweetheart,” he reassures, rubbing his hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture. “I got you something. Well, really it’s for us. But for you, mostly I suppose,” 

“You’re acting clingy and squirrely,” she assesses, leaning back to look at Spencer’s unreadable face. He simply shrugs, as if to say you’ll find out when you find out. 

“I need caffeine,” Spencer remarks, as he insists on carrying all the bags into the house by himself, “And something comfy to wear. I’ve been in this shirt for the last two days. There was a break in the case 41 hours in and we couldn’t break for the hotel. It was too out of the way,” 

“Oh my poor boy,” Y/N exclaims, helping Spencer shed his cardigan and standing with him as he takes his shoes off, “What about a nice hot shower and then some leftovers. I made chickpea curry last night. We have leftover rice and garlic naan, too,” she offers. 

Spencer, offering his thanks, grabs at his tie. His shoulders tense with exhaustion and something unreadable. He’s not usually mysterious. Usually, Spencer’s nothing but an open book. 

“You alright?” Y/N asks, doling out the portion of chickpeas and rice on the delicately decorated plates she received for her 25th birthday. 

“Fine,” Spencer says, clipped and detached. 

So unlike him. 

“Hmm. Well how was work? Anything interesting happen?” Y/N asks, attempting to spark conversation with her boyfriend. They’ve only been dating for a solid five months; enough time for whatever it was to have run its course. If Y/N didn’t know any better than she should expect herself to be circling the drain tonight along with dishes that would certainly be neglected for a pint of Java Chip. 

“Fine,” Spencer says, nodding thanks for the plate of food. He shovels in a couple bites, seemingly uninterested in continuing the conversation. 

So unlike him. 

Usually, Spencer would be clamoring to talk to her. It wasn’t too long ago that they spent long nights sharing a bottle of red and talking about everything from books to movies to the meaning of life. 

“Alright, Spencer. Cut the crap. Are you breaking up with me? Because if you are–?” 

Shock washes over Spencer’s face. And he doesn’t wear it well. He does a spit take and it’s nearly as foolish as it looks like in movies. Spencer’s eyes grow about three sizes bigger. 

“What? Break up with you? God, no,” he stammers, the sentiment clear although his efforts lacked clarity. 

“Okay.” Y/N says, tossing Spencer a napkin to mop up his mess of curry and water. “Good to know. But why are you acting so….squirrely?” 

Shifting in his seat, Spencer attempts to remain calm. His eyes, a honey brown with a cool brown rim, flit to the mysterious bag he brought in from his car. It was as if she could hear the whirring of the gears clicking into place. She follows his gaze to the bag. 

“You bought something. Something that you’re either nervous about or embarrassed? So it can’t be books. And it’s not something innocuous like a throw blanket or pie dish. And judging by your breathing growing heavy, it’s something….salacious.” 

Spencer’s thin upper lip twitches with delight. He hums, neither confirming nor denying her claims. His eyes flicker with playfulness, a contrast to moments ago when Spencer’s eyes flooded with fear and shock.

“You’re smart.” Spencer concludes, smiling with knives. He stands to presumably grab the black bag that has caused so much intrigue. “Should have been a profiler with a mind like yours.” 

“I’ll stick to what I know.” Y/N tells him, her interest in the bag only growing 

when Spencer places it in front of her on the table. “Let me guess, we’re at the stage in our relationship where you can buy me sexy underwear without it looking like you’re sleaze,” 

Chortling, Spencer blushes profusely. His feeble attempts at hiding the bag's contents fail miserably as they only pique Y/N’s interest. His eyes are wide with wonder and anticipation in the kitchen light. 

“It’s not lingerie.” 

“Alright, well whatever it is, Spencer I’m sure I’ll love it. You’re being so jumpy, it’s making me think you’ve got some really kinky sex toy in here,” she says, reaching her hand into the bag to finally examine its contents. She’s good at reading faces. From the old man who reads French Literature on the Metro to the young barista at the local coffee shop, Y/N, like even Spencer admitted, is pretty well versed at reading people. Which is why, for a split second she reads pure terror in Spencer’s eyes. 

“Oh shit,” she says, turning the box in her hand and reading the label. “You bought me a wand?” Her voice goes up an octave as if she’s just realizing what she’s holding in her hands. 

Spencer, now thoroughly, embarrassed, covers his face with his hand. His cheeks are tinged a lovely pink and he peeks through his fingers, apparently still eager. “Will you kill me if I say that’s not the only thing in there?” 

“Spencer Reid!” she shouts, slapping his hands on the table with glee and excitement. It was the very thought of Spencer Reid in a sex shop that sent both shivers down her spine, like an electric shock and shock waves of laughter through her system. “You went into a sex shop.” 

“Yes, Y/N,” Spencer contends, his tone playful enough, “But please continue your teasing. We’ll see how cocky you’ll be when you’re on the receiving end of 5000 RPMS. And that’s the lowest setting,” 

“Is that a threat?” Y/N asks, leaning in closer to Spencer. Her cleavage is eye level to Spencer’s line of vision. His eyes dart there to the bag and back to her eyes. 

He shakes his head. “A promise. Continue,” Spencer instructs, pointing towards the bag. She listens, fishing her hand in the large bag.

“That’s a clitoral stimulator.” Spencer explains, “The website I got recommendations from says that it simulates oral sex. It has eleven settings,” he continues, watching as Y/N’s eyes grow big at the thought of the toy in her hands. 

“Hmm, eleven?” she muses, putting it down next to the menacing looking hitachi wand.

“Another one? Spencer, how much money did you spend on toys?” she says aghast as she takes out yet another item from the bag. 

“It’s a Lush vibrator.” Spencer explains, waving off Y/N’s concerns for his wallet. “It’s actually connected to my phone. That means I can control it, even when we’re apart. Which, considering how much we’re apart, just might come in handy.” 

“This must have cost a lot of money.” Y/N speculates, staring at the three presents facing her on the countertop. “You really didn’t have to. You really shouldn’t–” 

“Y/N,” Spencer says, her name sounding deadly in his breathy timber, “It’s my job to make sure you’re satisfied. And I thought it would be a little fun to bring in some…reinforcements.” 

“That’s certainly more forward thinking than my last boyfriend. He was under the assumption that toys stole his thunder. But between you and me, and like every other woman he slept with, it’s probably because he hardly ever made me finish.” 

“Really?” Spencer says, looking shocked. “And he was still insecure about bringing toys into the bedroom?” 

Laughing, Y/N tosses her head back in a chortle. There was something endearing about Spencer’s genuine shock. 

 Spencer, looking half bemused and half proud, shifts in his seat. “So are we going to test them out or what?” 

Twenty minutes later, they were both in her bed. Y/N, on her back, with her feet planted firmly on the bed, watches as Spencer studies her carefully. Sweat pools in her cleavage and she grabs the sheets, needing something to grip as yet another wave of pleasure washes over her body. He had already coaxed an orgasm out of her with the clitoral stimulator. 

Spencer, fully dressed, holds the wand against her. He has a notebook to her left with small scribbles of notes detailing how fast she’s edged with each different toy. His scribbles, messy and disorganized at best, grow increasingly illegible. Spencer’s creases his brow, a sign of his intense determination, and is fuzzy as Y/N gazes down at him. She watches his look of stoic concentration, something that she finds entirely too attractive. But considering he plans on bringing her to climax time and time again tonight, she’ll give into her flights of fancy. 

“Think you like this one.” Spencer comments. He switches the wand to his less dominant, but still skillful hand to make notes on the pad. A self-satisfied smirk grows on his face, a sign that he’s enjoying this more than he’s letting on. 

“It’s really good.” she says, her voice betraying her already limited resolve. Spencer’s fingers lie casually on her thighs, searing marks into her legs that vaporize her skin. When he touches her it’s like her limb liquifies and her skin melts. She wants his fingerprints to sear into her skin, finally becoming part of her. 

“Yeah,” Spencer asks, a sarcastic smirk playing on the corner of his mouth, “Tell me more, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels.” 

Spencer’s words are punctuated by the head of the toy rolling against her clit. He never keeps it in one place longer than a couple of seconds, either not wanting to overstimulate her too soon or to keep her on her toes longer for him. 

“It feels so…good. Better than it used to. Before I had you,” she stammers, the words clunky in her mouth as she concentrates on Spencer’s deft hand at her core and his warm lips against her neck. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Before you had me to keep you nice and full, you had to use things like this. But I’m gone too often for you. I need to know my sweet girl is taken care of. So we’re going to test all of these toys out tonight. Till you’re drippy little mess, begging for me to finally fuck you.” 

Spencer’s sloppy kisses climb the slope of Y/N’s neck. He leaves whisper-wishes into the nooks of her skin, each one filled with promises and love. It’s a stark contrast; the sweet kisses to his hand that holds the vibrator: the bane of her undoing. 

“You know Hitachi wands are excellent for clitoral stimulation. This one has only one vibration pattern, but eight different speeds. Now that sounds like a challenge. And one that I’d like to break.” 

Y/N’s brow furrows as she gazes at Spencer with a deep concentration. He breathes against her neck, a trail full of wet kisses plotting their revenge against her sensitive skin. Spencer’s fingers hold the wand deftly as he concentrates the sensation against her clit. Y/N’s feet move up the bed, dragging the crocheted blanket with them. 

“Holy shit, Spence!” Y/N curses, her breath bated as the wand’s vibrations kick up a couple of levels. 

“That’s my girl. You like the fourth setting. Remember that, baby,” Spencer says, his lips curved into a proud smile as Y/N’s hips jut upwards in tandem with the toy, “Just like that, Y/N. I can tell you’re close. Give me another. One’s not enough for my greedy girl. And who am I to deny such a pretty face and a wet pussy. It’s all mine after all.” 

She feels the wand leave her clit and venture up to her stomach. Y/N’s muscles react like falling dominos at the sensation. She tenses as the vibrations shoot up and fry her nerves. Spencer licks his lips at the sight of her arousal sticking to her bare torso. He carefully dances the wand up to her nipples, watching with glee as they pebble even further in response to the vibrations. 

“One day I’ll give you an orgasm from just playing with these nipples. I’ll lick and kiss and suck on them till you’re dripping and begging for my cock to fill you up.” 

“Jesus, Spencer.” Y/N pants, her hips buckling as her climax reached its peak. “Can I come, please? Please let me come again? I need it so fucking bad, baby.” Her tongue peaks  out from her lips, wetting the surface as Spencer peered up at her. She grabs his collar to drag him up for a kiss just as she finally teetered off the edge, yet again. 

Spencer separates from the kiss, his lips puffy and red from Y/N’s frantic mouth. He smiles, gently caressing her head in a gesture that was entirely too sweet for their current situation. She feels Spencer’s erection in his pants; it had to be almost painful by now. 

“What was that two or three?” Y/N asks, a self-satisfied smirk plaguing her face. “I think we might set a record or something.” 

“That was two.” Spencer corrects. He takes more notes in his little notebook. “Of at least four or five. Depending on how much you beg later.” He slips off the bed and fishes through the bag. “Now, I think I have an idea for which I’d like to try next.” 

A bright pink silicone dildo with a flared based, freshly washed, lays in between them on the bed. Y/N raises her eyes in surprise. 

“Most men wouldn’t be too thrilled to have something other than their penis fuck their girlfriends, you know.” 

Spencer shrugs. “Yeah, but there’s a lot that we can do with it.” He claims, “Like double penetration or even, uh,” He blushes and stumbles over his next comment, “And pegging.” 

Y/N grins as an overwhelming sense of arousal washed over her. “Oh,” she says, skimming her fingers around Spencer’s neck. His skin is ridiculously soft, “we are so tabling that one for later. I would love to see you a mess for me instead.” 

Spencer grins. “Fuck, that’s good, Y/N. So good.” He kissed her forehead. “I wanna watch you ride it. Like you would my cock.” 

Y/N nods, as Spencer shifts on the bed, allowing for her to assume a crouched position. She looks at Spencer, his eyes laden with lust and love. He sits, legs spread in an attempt to accommodate his hardened erection in the old arm chair. He looks too good to be true, his cheeks are tinged with a blush, the dances that line between innocence and corruption. His notebook is forgotten, as he needs the entirety of his attention focused on the sight before him. 

“Good girl.” Spencer mutters, his hands resting on his thighs, but they twitch restlessly. It was as if he needs to physically hold himself back from ravishing Y/N at the sight of her crouched on her bed ready to fuck herself with a dildo her purchased for her. “Lower yourself on the toy. Give yourself an inch into your sweet little cunt.” 

His voice is deep, yet soft as he guided her pleasure expertly. She groans as the toy breaches her cunt, the full sensation is welcomed after the last hour of the wand and clit stimulator. 

“Don’t you wish it was your cock fucking my cunt, Spencer?” Y/N asks, her right hand wrapped around the flared base of the toy and the other holding herself up. Her abdominal muscles stunned with strain as her body remained in a crouched position, but the promise of release goaded her on. “You’re so hard, baby. I can see it from here. Don’t you want to touch yourself?” 

Spencer bites his lip. He nods as his hands undo his belt and his hips lift up enough so he can shimmy his pants and underwear to his knees. He wraps a hand around his cock, hard and glistening with arousal, and rubs upward with a tight fist. Spencer’s teeth dig into his bottom lip as he continues to watch Y/N lower herself onto the toy. 

“Give yourself another inch, sweetheart.” Spencer instructs as he fucked his fist. He swipes his thumb over the tip of his cock. “Fuck I wish it was your mouth or your pussy on my dick.” 

“God, you have the prettiest cock.” Y/N pants, the toy filling her up more and more as she sinks lower onto the base. “But now that we have this toy, maybe you can fuck my ass? I know you’d like that, baby.” 

“Dirty girl,” Spencer praises, a smile covering his face as Y/N’s thighs quiver, “Tell me does that toy fill you up nicely? I had to pick out the best one for my girl.” 

“Yes, yes,” Y/N answers, her voice rough and raw, “So good….I feel so full.” The pink dildo filled her cunt. 

“Good. Good.” Spencer says, his hand moving up and down his cock at a hastened pace. “Show me how you’ll ride it when I’m not here to fuck you, baby. Show me how you’ll fuck that tight cunt.” 

Spencer’s words provide the encouragement for Y/N to hoist herself up and down on the dildo. She would've laid flat on her back, a position that would have been easier on her thighs and core, but the angle she’s  able to reach makes the suffering all worth it. 

“Fuck…so good, Spencer. But I don’t think I can come from just this…it’s not…it’s not enough for me.” Y/N explains. Spencer knows that. He understands the science behind the female orgasm enough to know that many women are unable to reach climax from vaginal penetration only.

“I know, sweet girl. Don’t you worry.” He promises. “Bring your fingers to your clit

and give yourself some nice tight circles.” 

She listens. Her fingers draw tight circles around her clit. Y/N bites her lip as she feels her pleasure build and build. “So good. So good.” 

“I know, I know. Grind against the heel of your hand. You go wild when I do that, love. Like a little fucking minx. You can’t get enough.” 

The tension builds in her stomach as she grinds against the heel of her hand. Cursing, Spencer watches with lust-laden eyes as Y/N writhes on the bed. Sweat forms against her brow as her feet dig into the mattress and her thighs burn in exhaustion. Until she finally feels that familiar burst of pleasure release. 

“Fuck, fuck,” She curses, so caught up in her own pleasure the room seemed to spin around her. “I–I…Spencer, I’m coming.” 

Her release washes over her as she slumps down into the bed, finally spent with all her energy expended. She can barely hear Spencer shuffle over, nearly tripping over his feet since his pants remained gathered around his ankles. 

“Holy shit.” Spencer curses. “That was the most sensual thing I’ve ever seen.” He looks at her with half awe and half love. He pulls his underwear back up and kicks his pants off as he sits on the bed. “Are you alright, babe?”

Y/N groans, her cunt is raw with overstimulation and it is like every single nerve in her body is lit on fire in the best way possible. She offers Spencer a weak thumbs up that morphed into an equally weak fist bump. He obliged and gave Y/N a sweet forehead kiss in return. 

“So toys are a plus for us,” Spencer muses. He adjusts the pillows on the bed and helps Y/N sit up in a more comfortable position. “Thank you for this. I really enjoyed it. And I’m, you know, glad you’ll be occupied when I’m gone.” 

Y/N’s face flushes as a warmth resembling love covers her entire being. “I should be the one thanking you,” she counters, “Wait…I didn’t get you off.” She says, sitting up and then failing as her tired body gave out. 

“That’s a problem you already took care of,” Spencer protests, gesturing to his stained underwear. “I had already come untouched by the time you told me to touch myself. You put on quite the show, sweetheart.” 

She raises her eyes in disbelief as Spencer chuckles and kisses her cheek. “I’m glad you found that equally pleasurable. I don't think I’ve ever come as hard as I just did. And I doubt it’ll ever happen again.” She rises from the bed, with the help of Spencer. He grabs her waist as they make their way into her bathroom.

“Is that a challenge?” Spencer says, with a cocky smirk

“Fuck yeah it is,” Y/N said, “but I think I need like three weeks to recover.” 

Thank you for reading! Please remember, I appreciate you reading, reflagging, and commenting on all of my fics. I love your feedback and appreciate your support & community more than you'll ever know.

Tag List (I don't want to bother anyone, so just tagging people I mainly interact with)

@reidsbookclub @foxy-eva @reid-ingandweeping @boldlyvoid