#i’m on the clock so i gotta be quick

[kitten4sannie]

middle of the night

pairing: boyfriend! san x fem! reader

genre: pure smut

summary: these days, san can never seem to get a good night’s rest, that is, until he’s able to completely unload himself inside his pretty little girlfriend. good thing you‘re laying right next to him.

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: mean dom! san, subby painslut! reader, both of these mfs are nymphos, somno that turns into full blown sex (they have an established agreement and there is strict consent involved), san’s got a big curved cock as per usual, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, manhandling, tit play, spit, finger sucking, pussy slapping, marking, possessiveness, spanking, vaginal/anal sex also known as the two for one special <3 (psa: never switch from ass to pussy irl btw), rough altered missionary/doggy/back to missionary, san puts reader in a headlock (muahahahah), creampies, squirting, breeding kink, bulge kink, dumbification, brief oral, san eats his own cum out of reader, this is really filthy btw i should be locked up :3c

a/n: i literally can’t stop writing bc of the horneee that is constantly brought upon me against my will 😞 it’s all san’s fault </3 also i realized i’ve only written one fic about somno like two thousand years ago even tho it’s in my top ten kinks so i gotta fix that <3 *screams* i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed coming up with it~

song recs: angel by massive attack - beware by deftones (GRRRRRRRR BARK BARK)

San couldn’t seem to stop tossing and turning in bed, forcing his eyes shut and waiting for one side of his pillow to grow far too hot for comfort, before letting out a frustrated groan and rolling onto his other side, his cheek squished against the feathered pillow. Squinting at the glowing analog clock on the bedside table across from him, San blinked a few times, his eyes getting used to the darkness inside the room. It was already nearing dawn and he still hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. There had to be some kind of solution.

It was then that you shifted besides him, emitting a soft moan and rolling onto your back, your loose tank top lowered just enough so that one of your tits had popped out of it, creating another obstacle for San to overcome, one that wouldn’t let him fall asleep until he confronted it.

“Fuck,” San whispered to himself, pushing the covers down far enough to confirm his growing problem. With half-closed, tired eyes, your boyfriend watched his cock repeatedly throb upwards against his loose black sweatpants, as if it was begging him to do something, and quick.

Hs thought back to a conversation you had earlier that week, one you brought up after he had just got done fucking you all over the house in every position imaginable. Like many of your sex marathons, it was initiated because of something simple — you being bent over the washing machine to fill it up with a load of detergent, which, of course, led to San filling you up with his own load in every possible area of your house, including the back patio when you tried to water your poor succulents.

“Sannie, you might as well fuck me when I’m asleep too, at this point,” you giggled, running your fingers through San’s soaked hair, admiring the way he looked in between your legs, with his mouth and tongue exploring your leaking, cum-filled cunt.

“You mean that, angel? My dumb slut wants me to fuck her even dumber in her sleep?” he asked in between licks, humming softly as he continued to languidly clean you up after the destruction he caused to your used hole. It was his favorite pastime, besides rearranging your insides and painting them white with his seed, of course.

Moaning at his mean words, you tugged on his hair, rubbing your soaked pussy in his face like you always did. “Yes, I mean it, baby. Now, shut up and clean up your mess.”

Before San knew it, he was hovering over you, your thighs wide open and resting against his own, your loose, nonexistent sleep shorts tossed to the side so that he could eagerly rub his slick cock along your plush folds, his thick, calloused fingers exploring every inch of your heated skin, groping at your soft thighs, your hips and waist, eventually getting distracted by your tits, rolling your tank top up over them until they spilled out into his greedy hands. He squeezed and rolled them around, bringing his drooling mouth down to your chest to drag his hot tongue up and over your tits until they shined with his spit, pinching your puffy nipples in between his teeth until you whined out in your sleep, feeling your arousal leak out onto his pulsing cock when he finally pushed inside.

“Mmn, my angel is such a good little cocksleeve, so fucking wet for me even in her sleep,” San sighed lovingly to himself, sucking one of your tits into his mouth, spitting on it for good measure, before exchanging it for the other, moaning around your soft flesh, his eyes never leaving your pretty flushed face, even though you weren’t even awake to look down at him.

Unable to hold himself back, he began to buck his hips wildly into you like he always ended up doing when your tight, warm cunt sucked him in the way it did, the headboard beginning to bang loudly against the wall behind it. Grunting, San licked up from your spit-laced chest to your neck, sucking and biting into it, leaving his mark on you. “My baby, my sweet girl, you’re mine, all mine, even when you’re dreaming,” he whispered against your slick skin, slowly pulling back when he heard the breathy gasps you were letting out turn into full-blown moans.

“S-sannieee, I’m so full,” you voiced in a sleepy tone, reaching up to rub your tired eyes, studying your boyfriend’s rosy cheeks and lips, the way his drenched hair stuck to his forehead, a few drops of sweat landing on your face, unable to look away from his intensely dark, lust-filled gaze. “Is my pussy making Sannie go crazy?”

A low growl erupted from San’s throat, a vein starting to grow taut against his skin, now that he was pounding into you with abandon, reaching up underneath your thighs to forcibly fold you in half like you were nothing but a doll for him to use. “Your slutty cunt always drives me crazy, princess, so be good and take responsibility, hm?”

Barely able to breath now that you were akin to origami, your brain grew delightfully fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, encouraging the hazy, half-asleep state you were still in and the oversized cock that was being driven relentlessly into your cervix to work in tandem until pleasure overtook your body to the point of orgasm. “Fuck, Sannie, baby, fffuuck, I’m cumming…!”

“Oh, my dirty girl, creaming yourself so soon?” San mused with his lips quirked into a shit-eating grin, his dimples and canine teeth on display. Just as your eyes begin to disappear underneath your fluttering eyelids, San suddenly grabbed you by the chin, reaching down in between your sweaty bodies to smack his hand down roughly against your spasming cunt. “Look at me when you’re squirting on my cock, baby. You know better.”

“S-sannie, it’s so, oh my god–” you cried out, opening your mouth to moan and instead feeling his thumb slide over your tongue, your lips closing around it. You continued to suck on his thumb as he fucked you through your first mind melting orgasm of the night, biting into it when he smacked your cunt again with his free hand.

“Owww, bad girl.” San watched you lick and suck on his thumb with a lecherous smile plastered on his red, sweaty face, rubbing his other thumb roughly into your puffy clit, rolling it in circles until he felt your thighs trembling nonstop against his moving body, suddenly stopping his movements to sheath himself fully inside you, groaning heavily as he flooded your pulsing cunt with his hot load. “Mm, you feel that, princess? I’m pumping all my cum into this slutty womb of yours, so I can get you nice and knocked up for me…You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Just as he pulled his thumb out of your drooling mouth, you clasped your hands onto his cheeks, looking up at him hearts in your teary eyes, and begging, “Yes, Sannie, I like it, love it so much. Can I have more?”

And there it was. You might’ve been the love of his life and his beautiful angel of a girlfriend, but you were still his personal breeding bitch at the end of the day — and in the middle of this hazy, sleepless night.

“Oh, yeah?” San hummed, slowly pulling out of you and running his fingers through his wet hair, just for it to fall back into his half-lidded eyes, watching as his cum began to flood out of your gaped, fluttering hole. He wanted nothing more than to eat it out of you, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting the warm saltiness mixed with your sweet squirt on his lips, but he still had to pursue his mission of pleasing his baby. “My little slut still hasn’t had enough?”

“No, Sannieee, I need your cock in my other breeding hole. Please?” you whined softly, pouting up at him, hoping you’d get your way now that you were fired up and desperate for him to fill and own as many of your holes as he could before the both of you fell victim to drowsiness.

San closed his eyes to ground himself for a second, not even fully prepared for the filth that you exuded, despite being quite the pervert himself. When he opened his eyes back up, he looked down, his curved cock now painfully stiff and twitching upwards into his heaving abdomen, somewhat winded from how hard he had been fucking you just a moment ago. “Head down, ass up, little slut. Don’t make me ask twice.”

And just like that, you were lying with your head pressed into bed, drooling heavily from both ends, getting saliva onto the arousal stained mattress, your sopping wet cunt pushing out all of San’s load and causing it to drip down your inner thighs, your weak, bruised knees wobbling beneath you, your ass being relentlessly pounded into by your ravenous boyfriend. “Gonna cum, gonna cum–”

Your warning was cut off by a sharp gasp, just as San’s hand collided with the side of your reddened ass, his fingers grabbing into the soft, sensitive flesh until you whimpered pathetically. “You’re such a filthy slut, aren’t you?” he growled between gritted teeth, smacking the other side of your ass and making you cry out before you could answer him properly. He suddenly pulled out of your ass and forced himself back into your cunt, stuffing you completely full, hunching over you so that he could put you in a headlock, loose enough so that you remained conscious, but tight enough so that you could feel deliciously dizzy. “You’re my filthy slut. All mine to fuck raw, to ruin, to breed. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered hoarsely, opening your mouth up to accept his tongue inside when he closed in on you, feeling breathless once he manipulated your body until you were back underneath him, your legs near your head, his cock so deep inside your cunt that the tip of it created a prominent bulge inside your stomach, one that San was already palming as he began to shudder, his lips, teeth and tongue attacking your neck again to leave more marks, darker ones that you would have to put concealer over before you went to work the following morning. “That’s it, that’s it, cum inside me, San, please, make me yours!”

“You’ve been mine since the beginning, angel, but I’ll make you mine again, and again, and again,” San exhaled onto your lips, wrapping his arms protectively around you, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his tip just about kissing the entrance of your cervix, your bodies so entangled together, neither of you knew where the other began. You gazed into each other’s hazy eyes, moaning into each other’s open mouths, as another seemingly endless flood of thick, hot cum claimed your womb. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

“I love you too, San,” you sighed back, caressing his heated face, your fingers slipping into his hair just as he began to lower himself down, shuddering at the sensation of his lips and teeth making their mark on your chest, abdomen, hips, then gasping when he made his way to your center, his hot tongue slipping inside your pulsing cunt.

Like every time before, San ate his warm load out of you like a starved man, his nose nudging your sensitive clit as he moved his head in an up and down motion, coaxing more of the saltiness onto his tongue, reaching up to rapidly rub your clit just because he could, pleased with the way you began to cry and shake, your warm squirt pouring down his throat. He swallowed it all down with a low, pleased groan, dragging his tongue up and over your used, puffy cunt to collect the last few drops of nectar, before he finally felt tired enough to collapse down onto the bed next to you.

With the last ounce of his strength, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to your lips, letting you taste your combined essence. “Bedtime?” San whispered, cradling and rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, looking at you with a fondness that bordered obsession. He chuckled softly, giving you a dimpled smile. “I promise I won’t wake you up again.”

“You won’t wake me up, but you still might fuck me in my sleep? Huh, nympho?” you teased jokingly, cradling his face back, so close that you breathed in the same air, your eyes never leaving his, despite how heavy your eyelids began to feel. “I need my sleep, you know.”

San was in a similar state, starting to drift off, his hands leaving your face so that he could wrap them protectively around you. “Sorry, baby. I’ll try to be quieter next time,” he murmured, letting out a soft giggle, pressing a kiss to your lips just as his eyes began to close. “Just don’t be mad at me when you wake up with my cock still inside you…”

Leaving a kiss on his nose, your eyes started to close as well, completely relaxing into your boyfriend’s warm embrace. “I’ll be mad if it’s not still inside me.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

gen tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @8tinytings @baguette-atiny @lvnderhazes @knucklesdeepmingi @soobiverse @jeongwangjessmina @ja3hwa @actuallyalien @aggiebackstage @doom-fics @koalakoala8 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[bookshelf-dust]

something’s gotta give

gif by @kwistowee

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,988

warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope

synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?

a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333

————

“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.” 

You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant. 

She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag. 

You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”

“Of course! You have a good day, now.”

“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter. 

“Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him. 

“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in. 

The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is. 

“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…” 

You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”

He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”

You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall. 

You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”

When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem. 

You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”

Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—

“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie. 

He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”

In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you. 

God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson. 

You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob. 

What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help. 

But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy. 

You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside. 

Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks. 

He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor. 

The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass. 

Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines. 

You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him. 

What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger. 

A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning. 

He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance. 

But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him. 

And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now. 

Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms. 

There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow. 

“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin. 

You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer. 

“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”

He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”

“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”

You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.

The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!

Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible. 

Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”

“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”

You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”

Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”

You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.

He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”

That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door. 

“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter. 

“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”

You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time. 

————

If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work. 

You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine. 

Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace. 

You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be. 

You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door. 

“Why are you dressed like that?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”

You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself. 

Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks. 

His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera. 

“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling. 

You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”

The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like? 

Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around. 

The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle. 

In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders. 

Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears. 

At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms. 

“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s. 

The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie. 

He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!” 

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even. 

Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for. 

You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes? 

A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive. 

You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality. 

In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first. 

“You find everything you needed today?”

She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”

She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer. 

“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month. 

The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door. 

When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”

Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.

“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”

Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep. 

The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front. 

You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.” 

Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”

You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say. 

He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”

Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh. 

“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”

Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 

“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom. 

Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.

————

You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today. 

You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction. 

You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality. 

You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies. 

Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go. 

It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it. 

The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose. 

You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly. 

You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.

You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open. 

It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him. 

Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors. 

“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him. 

Eddie says your name. 

He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face. 

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”

He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”

“Let me help you—”

You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering. 

He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?” 

You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”

You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion. 

You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it. 

When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright. 

Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you. 

He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word. 

Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin. 

The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness. 

Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet. 

You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest. 

“What for?”

“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”

Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”

“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”

You blink. 

“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”

Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction. 

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”

You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm. 

“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”

You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”

Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”

“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him. 

He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing. 

“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”

When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps. 

“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”

He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”

Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”

You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring. 

“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”

“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”

Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished. 

“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”

“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”

You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him. 

“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”

He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?” 

You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in. 

“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”

Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it. 

And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers. 

You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on. 

When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him. 

Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say. 

“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[milf-murdock]

Frozen (Ghost x Soap x 141!Reader)

Soap x Ghost x 141!Reader (Established Relationship/Established Throuple)

Summary: You, Ghost, and Soap were heading back to the safe house from a quick reconnaissance mission when you’re caught by a surprise ambush. Soap’s quick maneuvering saved your lives, but when you end up overboard in freezing waters, a whole new challenge presents itself.  Warnings: medical inaccuracies, I am clearly not a doctor and also not trained on what to do if you seriously are at risk of hypothermia. But getting naked and using the body heat of your two bulky lovers seems like a good place to start :-)  A/N: This was inspired by this scene in one of my favorite winter movies The Proposal!! I don’t know that it’s a “Christmas” movie, per say, but it’s snowy and wintery and I watch it every Christmas and @glitterypirateduck said that counts!!! So I’m also submitting this for their Holiday Challenge :) 

The speedboat was flying across the dark blue waters, bitter winds nipping at any exposed area of skin. A thick fog made navigating difficult, but you were in good hands as Soap lead the speedy vessel back towards the safe house. Perched on the cushion lining the back of the boat, you scooted closer to Ghost, both to escape the windchill and to hear him better, as you recapped what you’d seen. 

“We’ll need to put through a call to Price as soon as we’re back at the safe house,” Ghost stated, and you nodded in response, already mentally planning ahead to your next steps. With this intel, they’ll probably have you three hit the ground running by sunrise. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shot ringing through the air. 

“They fucking tailed us,” Soap shouted from the wheel as he turned the boat in a different direction in an attempt to shake the pursuers. “Couldn’t see ‘em through the fog.” 

Ghost operated on instinct—up on his feet, weapon in hand before the final ring of the shot even cleared out. He had three shots fired by the time you were on your feet as well, trying your best to stabilize as Soap gunned the engine, sending you flying even faster across the waves. 

The pursuers were finally close enough to clear the fog, their boat’s impressive speed rivaling your own’s. Unfortunately for them, this made the assailants easy targets. Their element of surprise was no match for your and Ghost’s impressive sharpshooting skills. You watched with satisfaction through your gun’s scope as the last man fell. Their boat came to a stop in the middle of the water, quickly disappearing as you sped away. 

Except they weren’t all dead. No, one final shot rang out, a literal shot in the dark from a dying man out into the open air. 

Catching everyone on board by surprise, Soap jerked the wheel to the right to swerve out of any potential line of fire. Still standing, untethered, and unprepared for any abrupt action, Ghost stumbled back before catching his footing, all 250+ pounds of pure muscle knocking into you. Between the momentum of the boat’s turn and the pure mass of Ghost’s body, you didn’t stand a chance. Before a single shout could leave your lips, you were toppling overboard and into the frozen ice water.

Ghost turned to help stabilize you, panicking at the empty space beside him before recognizing your frantic form in the water as the boat sped away. “Fuck!” Ghost shouted. “Turn it around, Johnny, we’ve gotta go back! She fell over!” 

Soap glanced back to see you floating in the water and his heart nearly stopped. 

“Steaming Jesus,” her muttered to himself, quickly yanking the steering wheel to the left, turning the boat around.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Simon cursed as Soap navigated the boat closer to your form. These waters were freezing and with the current windchill, they’d be racing thee clock to get you back to thee safe house. The boat slowed as they approached your figure, and Ghost leaned over the edge of the speeder, both arms extended to grab you. 

“Come ‘ere,” he muttered, both hands clasping around your extended wrists to help pull you up. The boat came to a stop and Soap scrambled over to help bring you aboard. 

You were shaking. All the many layers you were bundled up in soaked completely through. Both men helped drag your shaking form onto the bench, immediately discarding their own jackets to help cover you. 

“What the fuck happened?” Soap demanded roughly, an edge of panic in his voice that he just couldn’t control. 

“She fell out,” Ghost’s gruff response could barely be heard over the chattering of your teeth. 

“D-d-didn’t fall,” you gasped out. “P-p-pushed me.”

“You fucking pushed her?” Soap looked up at Ghost, equal parts rage and concern flickering in his blue eyes as he pulled you into his arms, pressing his body heat up against your freezing form. His hands frantically rubbed your arms, trying to generate heat with the friction. He glared up at Ghost, who was breaking into a medpack to pull out the emergency thermal blanket.

“I didn’t mean to, obviously,” Ghost grumbled as he tugged you back from Johnny’s form just enough to wrap you in the silver material. You shaking was uncontrollable at this point, the cold wind whipping at your already freezing extremities. “Fuck,” he uttered, taking in the blue hue forming just at the edge of your lips. “We gotta get her back to the safe house, now.” His tone was authoritative. This was quickly turning into a medical emergency. 

Soap nodded, heading back to the dashboard and getting the boat back in motion. Ghost took your shaking form into his arms. “I gotcha, darling, no worries. We’re gonna get you back safe and warm in no time.” He looked down to see you pressed against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. “Nuh uh, none of that, love,” he gently shook your shoulder. “Look at me, gotta stay awake.” Your eyes blinked rapidly as you tried to keep yourself awake. Ghost moved to brush a stray hair out of your face when he noticed it was nearly frozen solid. This is bad. Without a second thought, he had the balaclava up and over his face and in his hand. “Here love, need to put this on.” The exhaustion that gripped your body was too much; you couldn’t even put up a fight as Simon slid the warm material over your head, the soft fabric warming your frozen face. 

Ghost held your body close as Soap drove the boat to safety, pulling up to the dock just outside the safe house. It was a small, inconspicuous cabin in a fairly remote area. Soap gave the area a quick once-over, making sure the coast was clear, as Simon lifted you into his arms—no easy feat as the many layers you had on were completely soaked through.

“All clear,” Soap claimed, one eyebrow raised at Simon’s bare face. It wasn’t anything you two hadn’t seen before; after all, once the three of you were back home in your shared flat, the mask seldom made its appearance until you three were back on a mission. But to see it removed here was just a little surprising. 

“She needed it,” Simon stated matter of factly, brushing past Johnny and quickly heading into the warmth of the cabin. Johnny followed quickly behind, turning the triple locks on the door as soon as the three of you were inside. 

“We’ve gotta get her out of those clothes,” Johnny commented, side-stepping Simon as he headed straight towards the fireplace to get the fire going. 

Simon laid your form on the couch. At some point between the boat and the couch, your eyes had fallen shut, your breathing shallow. You were so still in his arms it set his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Fuck, darling” Simon muttered, unzipping your outer layers and pulling them off of you, his hands shaking slightly in desperation as he stripped the frozen fabrics from your body. He pulled your boots off, sliding the outer layer of pants. Hey stripped you down to your base layer, a tight pair of thermal pants and long sleeves. His mask still rested on your face. 

Having gotten the fire started, Johnny was pacing the floor by the couch, watching as Simon discarded layer by layer. 

“She’s not waking up,” Johnny’s voice was tinged with fear. “Simon, why isn’t she waking up?” 

Simon’s hands held your own, trying to warm the frozen digits. He looked up at Johnny. “Oi, look at me, love,” his own gentle tone a stark contrast to Johnny’s panicked one. Soap couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Look. At. Me. Johnny.” Simon’s staccato words had the full commanding voice of a lieutenant. On instinct, Johnny’s eyes darted to Simon’s, unable to control his response to that tone. Simon saw the light sheen of tears in Johnny’s eyes—he always was the more sensitive of the two—and his heart squeezed with guilt. This was his fault. But he was going to fix it. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Simon’s voice left no room for arguing, no room for doubt. Johnny could only nod in response. 

“Tell me what to do.” Johnny raised one hand to trail across  your cheek, fingers grazing the soft fabric of the mask. 

“We need to get her to the bed,” Simon ordered, his years of training kicking in. He knew exactly the best way to warm you up. He nestled one arm under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees as he lifted you off the sofa, striding to the one bedroom in the tiny cabin. Johnny followed close behind, anxiously watching your unconscious form as Simon held you in his arms. 

“Take off your clothes,” Simon ordered as he set you on the bed, pulling off the last of your layers until you were completely bare. He gingerly removed the mask, setting it flat on the bedside table for it to dry out.

“Si, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Johnny asked, his brows furrowing in concern was he unbuttoned his pants. 

“Trust me, love,” Simon shot Johnny a look meant to soothe as he pulled his own shirt over his head. “The best way to warm her up is gonna be with our own body heat. Anything warmer and we risk sending her into shock.”

Once both men were fully stripped down, they carefully climbed into bed. Johnny was in his typical spot on the right side of the bed, and he tucked himself around your body. “Steamin’ blood Jesus,” he whispered. “She’s cold as fuckin ice.” He held you closer, pressing every available inch of his body against you, even going as far as pressing the underside of his feet up against yours. Once Johnny had you safe in his arms, Simon joined in, pressing up against your backside. He swore to himself as he powered through the initial cold shock and made sure to encompass as much of your bare skin under his warm body. 

They stayed like that are a long while, strong hands grazing up and down your body in an attempt to coax warmth back into you. They pressed kisses all along your bare skin, muttering sweet nothings to bring you back to reality. Simon and Johnny continued to exchange looks of concern as the next few hours passed at a glacial pace. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you came to, eyes blinking open as you groaned. 

Johnny was the first to jump in, relief flooding through him as you stirred. “Hey Bonnie, take it easy, take it easy, eh?” His strong hand was gentle against your bare chest, gently pressing you down as you tried to sit yourself up. 

“Fuck,” you muttered. “I feel like shit.” You screwed your eyes shut, letting the two men fuss over you. 

“I know, love,” this time it was Simon’s deep voice that had you opening your eyes once more. “I am so bloody sorry. S’all my fault.” The guilt in his voice was palpable and you knew he’d be carrying the weight of this instance for a while to come. 

“It was an accident,” you soothed, turning over to face him. You winced—your body ached and your movements were stiff. 

“S’okay, Simon,” you cooed, striving to ensure he could see the forgiveness in your eyes. “M’fine.”

“We’re just so glad you’re okay, lass,” Johnny pressed himself up against your back, trailing kisses down your neck and shoulder. “Gave us quite the scare.”

“‘Course I’m okay,” your words slurred a bit as your lids grew heavy, finding it harder and harder to keep sleep at bay. “I have you two.” 

“We will always take care of you, love,” Simon’s voice was firm, more of a promise to himself than anything. 

“Now rest,” Johnny ordered, pressing a final kiss to the back of your head. “Ye need it.” 

You were asleep before he even finished the words. 

The relief in the air was nearly palpable as both men finally exhaled the collective breath they’d been holding, knowing that you were going to be okay. 

“I’m so sorry, love,” Simon repeated, this time looking at Johnny. 

Johnny reached across your sleeping form to caress Simon’s cheek. “S’alright, dear. We managed.” He smiled down at you. “She’s alright.” 

Simon leaned over to press a kiss against Johnny’s waiting lips. 

“ I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love ye too.”

Masterlist ✧ Ask Box

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, soft dom Steve, outercourse, P in V sex, morning sex, unprotected sex

Fat cock Harrington but it’s just the tip. This is a softer take on the trope but I do have a Perv! Steve version in mind for a future drabble.

A/N: the writer’s block has been pretty severe up in here so please be kind. Too many ideas but the words just aren’t wording, you know? my drafts are mountainous at this point but I am beyond delighted to have finally finished one of them and I hope I’ll be able to get the rest done too.

Divider by roseschoices

The sheets must have slipped off you again, a result of the way you sometimes moved around in your sleep. Or maybe they’d been tugged off this time? You suspected the latter when you roused to the feeling of his palm smoothing over the curve of your bare hip, fingers squeezing lightly when he saw your eyes begin to flutter open.

He’ll be leaving for work in an hour, you realize, when you spare a quick glance at your alarm clock, pushing back slightly to feel his hardened cock against your ass.

“Mm, gotta have you angel. Can I?”, Steve’s voice comes out low, still heavy with sleep and something more as he rests his chin on your shoulder, fresh stubble rubbing against your cheek.

The two of you are still naked from the night before, the bruises you’d both lovingly and desperately made on each other’s bodies still deepening in color and here he was, eager to be inside you again so soon.

“You’re insatiable”, you tease in an equally sleep riddled tone but show your interest by grinding against his cock again. The friction earns you a groan and another squeeze on your hip.

“Please? 'Couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t fuck you one more time before I left”

You’re too sleepy to roll your eyes but you manage a lazy giggle instead, finding Steve's particular brand of begging oddly endearing. “Fine. Wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over it”, you huffed playfully, giving him permission to let his fingers roam lower.  

"You're perfect", he thanks you in praise, teeth gently nibbling your earlobe. His fingers skim over your curls and ghost over your clit, detouring from the bud down to your still swollen folds. When he parts them it’s as if the rest of your body has been shaken awake, finally feeling the effects of last night when an ache of a different kind makes itself known between your legs.

The feeling isn't enough to alarm you nor does it make you want to stop, thinking little of the noticeable but weak throbbing until he attempts to work a finger inside. It's then that your core protests with a pain that's mostly dull but still unpleasant enough that your shoulders twitch and your thighs snap together by reflex, inadvertently trapping his hand there.

Steve mistakes it for jolt of pleasure at first until he hears the pain behind your whining and feels the urgency with which your fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Too sore”, you yelp, voice small and tone verging on wounded but you're able to slump against his chest with relief when he pulls his fingers away quickly.

“Shit, baby I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

He's quick to try and soothe you and your thighs clench again, this time for a better reason when he cups a hand over your cunt, his warm, gentle touch quelling the ache he didn’t mean to agitate.

“Yeah, I’m okay”, you assure him as the throbbing subsides, humming appreciatively at the way he's holding you.

This has happened before. The result of when things turned a little rough in the bedroom.

The back curving orgasms and euphoric tears streaming down your face as he fucked you into the mattress always came first, the aching reminder of it all following the morning after.

But you never regretted it.

And it's never stopped you from getting off before.

“Still want you to use me”, you offered with a meaningful look over your shoulder and the boy realizes what you're referring to - something you usually let him do whenever you wanted to feel him but couldn’t handle having him inside you yet.  

“Yeah? Sure you want it?”, he asks sweetly, full of genuine concern for you but you're able to pick up on a hopeful lilt that slips through too. You didn't blame him, reminded of the need he feels for you when his cock twitches against your ass.

You nod, sure that as long as there was no penetration the pain wouldn’t flare up again.

“Yeah, I do" you answered, showing him how much you wanted it too when you placed your hand over the one he had on your sore cunt, grinding softly against his palm with a pleased whimper. "But be gentle, okay?”

"Promise", he leans forward to place a kiss on your cheek before shifting positions.

You smile up at his halo of mussed up chestnut hair when he hovers over you, gently rolling you on to your back. The early morning chill that seeped into your shared bedroom usually had you pulling the sheets up to your chin and pressing yourself up against your boyfriend for some extra warmth but now, laid bare underneath him, you feel as if you might perspire from the mounting tension.

You remember to lift your hips when he reaches for a pillow, allowing him to slide it underneath you before spreading your legs to accommodate him.

Seeing the glistening arousal between your legs makes Steve's head feel pleasantly fuzzy, spitting into his palm and working it onto his turgid cock with a few quick strokes.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”, he makes sure to add, guiding his cock to slot it between your your puffy folds, resting his flushed tip against your clit.

"Okay", you breathe out, the word very nearly tapering into a needy whine because you're already feeling the urge to nudge your hips forward and make his length rub over your clit just right.

When he does roll his hips you're reminded of just how sensitive he's left your bundle of nerves from the night before, clit pulsing from the gentle, languid motion of his cock sliding over it.

"C'mon, tell me what's going on in that pretty head. My girl feeling alright?", he coos down at you, making sure to scan your face for any signs of discomfort.

Steve's relieved when your expression turns blissful, the softest gasp escaping your parted lips like a secret meant only for him. "Mm, so good...keep going".

The look on your face encourages him to become a little bolder, thumb coming down to keep his shaft pressed firmly against your folds and the weight of it on your delicate core makes you curse with pleasure.

“Woke up hard this morning because of you, you know? y ’had me dreaming about this pussy all night”, he grunts out, canting his hips forward the slightest bit faster, careful not to overdo it in your tender state.

Another bolt of pleasure strikes and settles warm inside your belly, curling your fingers around his shoulders, eyes half lidded but fixed on his own.

"Fuck, Stevie it's so sensitive - feels amazing", you sigh high and pretty for him.

"Making such a mess already. All this for me?", hazel eyes flicking down to tease the fresh, creamy slick that's dripping out of you and clinging to his cock.

Part of you wants to argue back that some of the steadily growing mess is of his own doing, spying the dewy precum that beads at his slit but you're a little too caught up in the feeling coiling inside you to manage a quip right now.

You liked it when he rut against you this way, each thrust stimulating your puffy clit closer and closer to the edge, but rivaling your own pleasure was the satisfaction you felt when you watched him reach his own peak like this.

Knowing you could make him cum without even letting him inside you made every soft moan he spilled sound sweeter and the pink dusting his cheeks seem that much prettier - like you'd earned it the hard way.

Your favorite part was watching him still after you'd reached your own climax, cockhead pressed right up against your needy clit before it erupted with his release. You'd cry out every time the pearly, viscous spend spurt against your pussy in hot ropes, collecting on your skin and the matted curls on your mound.

Things seemed to be heading for the same conclusion this time round too, at least you had intended for it when you asked him to use you. But with the way he's working you up with every filthy word and knowing he wouldn't be able to lie in bed with you afterwards, all satisfied and spent, you were starting to change your mind.

A reminder of the discomfort you felt when he'd tried to finger you still fresh in your mind but feeling so, so terribly empty, you weren't able to ignore the other thought that blared in your head. That if he angled himself just the slightest bit lower, he might be able to slip in and make that lonely, empty feeling go away.

You wanted that stretch again, even if it hurt.

"Wanna try taking it inside again”, you blurt out, tears starting to blur your vision.

Maybe you should have considered a softer approach. One that wasn't so blunt, feeling a twinge apologetic when his hips stutter and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat with a thick gulp.

You knew you shouldn't spring these things on poor Steve. Least of all when he's got you naked underneath him. The boy was weak for you to the point that an admission like that could risk having him cum on the spot.

The conflicted look on his face was expected. What you were asking for was different from the night before, a night although filled with plenty of manhandling and welcome roughness, hadn't consisted of anything that had pained you. Not in any way that had you calling out your safe word at least.

"I don't know...”, he starts but trails off, looking positively torn when you begin to whine and buck your hips, folds dragging along his cock.

"Please, Steve? 'just wanna try...you'll be gentle with me wont you?"

The vein at his temple is noticeable now, jaw clenching too.

"No fair, baby...going all sweet on me like that", he strains, resolve crumbling.

You pout, so close to swaying him.

"Just once more. Promise I'll tell you if it starts to hurt, okay?"

His expression shifted as if considering. He hated saying no to you. Especially when your eyes filled such unbridled want.

"Fuck, alright".

You mumble thank you's against his lips when you pull him in for a quick kiss, legs spreading wider for him as his tip slips down to press against your entrance. There's more to take in this time but you're so much wetter than before - so eager to take as much of him as you can.

Anticipating the sting that comes when he begins to breach your hole, you chant softly for him to keep going, face pinching up in pain briefly when resistance gives way and the head of his cock finally pops inside.

Your sore walls protest at first with a dull gnawing, a bearable pain but still the kind that had you holding your breath until you could settle again.

Steve remains like that in place, not pushing in any further, hand rubbing considerately at your waist. He waits patiently for you to adjust - waiting for you to release that breath you've been holding and tell him how you're feeling.

“Don’t think I can take any more”, your voice comes out in a waver, a shaky breath coming after it.

Clouded by his concern for you, he interprets your comment as a cue for him to pull out. "I'm sorry, lemme just-" and you can feel him begin to withdraw from you carefully.

"No wait"

He stills again, afraid he's hurt you until you bend your knees and press your heels into the mattress to anchor yourself. The throbbing begins to subside and Steve's jaw falls slack when he sees you roll your hips, fucking yourself on the head of his cock.

“My god, baby" he manages to choke out, disbelieving despite having his eyes trained on the way your folds suck him in, the fat head of his cock sinking in and out of you wetly.

Your eyes fall to where you're joined too and you can see the veins bulging along his shaft, missing the way they felt inside you but with how sensitive you are, you feel impossibly full already.

"Steve, please", you sob, the sound of you all eager and aching prompting him to take over.

You're rewarded when pushes in, cock dragging over a tender, neglected spot sitting at an angle you couldn't reach on your own. It's a slow, but intensely passionate pace the two of you fall into, nothing but the wet sounds of your joined bodies and pleasured moans filling the room.

You almost worry that it's not enough for him. While you feel like your almost bursting at the seams in the best possible way, he's only managed to work around two inches of his dick inside you at this point, the rest of him missing that vice grip of your plush, silky walls.

That worry increases tenfold when he pulls out, only to have him push the unfounded concern out of your mind altogether when he wraps a hand around the the throbbing length, tapping the head glistening with your arousal on your clit. "I'm getting close", he admits hoarsely before pushing back in again, this time with more ease and far less pain than the first.

The way your walls give way for him has you keening, the pleasure pain combo at equal levels now.

“Yeah? Too much for you isn’t it, crybaby?”, he thumbs at your cheek and you begin to register the hot tears streaming down your face, earning you the nickname.

You nod fervently but your hips keep bucking, pace hurrying.

“Oh? Want more?”, he asks, half as a taunt, half in awe.

"Faster, please do it faster", you beg.

"Yeah?" he picks up the pace, fucking into your poor sore pussy as far as you can handle. "Gonna cum like this baby? already crying on my cock even though it's just the tip?"

"Oh god- Steve I'm getting close", you warn, back arching, fists gathering damp sheets.

"Fuck, so sore and you're still taking it like a good girl"

“Play with my clit”, you cry and he does, hand dropping to find the sensitive bud. A gentle puff of breath against your clit could have tipped you over the edge at this point, so when he rubs circles into it the force of your orgasm surprises you both, your cunt forming a tight seal around his tip when he bursts too, flooding you full.

There's no way he's clocking in to work on time today.

[anastasiabowe]

𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉 — As a broke college student, it’s not wrong to want a rich husband! That doesn’t mean you’re a gold digger, or will stoop so low you will ruin your worth, it just means you want a man who will take care of you, and guess what? You found him.

note: this will be a 3 part series! First one I’ve ever made and may be my last! So please not too much on these writings! Luv you!

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄𝙄

Content Warnings: Language..? Nothing other than that!

Nanami stared at his reflection.

“Nanami, get it together. It’s just a date, you’ve done them plenty of times.”

Nanami repeated that to himself and each time he got more nervous. His hands were now sticky with sweat, and his stomach began to hurt from the nerves. Nanami has never been this nervous, not even for business meetings that can determine his companies status or funds.

Nanami’s phone chimed a little song as his alarm went off. It was 5:15 and he needed to leave for his date.

He went to his sink and washed the sweat from his hands. He grabbed his car keys and headed to his garage.

Once he got in his car and started driving, he didn’t want to do this date anymore. What if you found him ugly? I mean the photos he chose weren’t the best, but what if you were expecting younger, or handsomer?!

He pulled into Hermès’ parking lot, and he went to park in a spot as close to the restaurant in case of a quick exit he may have to make.

He sat in his car as the clock ticked. It was only 5:25, and his reservation wouldn’t be ready for another five minutes. He took a deep breath, and made his way into the luxurious restaurant. He signed in, and the Server brought him to his table. Nanami thanked him as the server said he would be right back and Nanami nodded. Just as he sat down his phone chimed and he picked it up.

He saw a message from Haibara.

H: “Hey dude, just wanted to wish you luck. Remember, don’t think too much and act like you. It’s not as complicated as you think! Alright, I gotta go, tell me all about the date after it, or tomorrow!

N: Thank you, I really appreciate it Haibara. I will tell you all about it tomorrow!

Nanami smiled, Haibara was too good for him. His phone chimed again and a message from you appeared on his screen.

Y: “Hey Kento! I might be running late, I missed my bus, so it might take me a few minutes! (Hopefully it’s not a deal breaker😅)

Nanami laughed to himself while also internally punching himself. Why didn’t he offer you a ride!? Oh he’s such an idiot! While Nanami cursed himself for mistakes he didn’t even make, the waiter looked at him in slight discomfort.

“Sir?” Nanami jerked his head towards the young man, startled by his sudden appearance.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Nanami kindly apologized.

“Oh, it’s not problem, at all! I was just wondering if you were waiting for someone, if not, are you ready to order drinks?” The young man so kindly asked the clueless Nanami the 4th time about what his plans were at the restaurant.

“Yes, I am waiting for someone, you can come back in five minutes, sorry for the troubles.” Nanami felt like an absolute clown. He is recognizable. He bets the waiter felt bad for him, thinking he was stood up, so he lingered to keep him company.

“Alright, I will be back shortly!” The young gentleman walked away, and Nanami checked his phone to see another message from you.

Y:“Hi! I’m at the front, the woman won’t let me in unless the person who made the reservation comes and gets me..”

Nanami sighed, places like these makes him hate reservations. He walks towards the front, and he couldn’t help but fucking forget how to breathe.

He saw you standing in a deep green dress. It was so flattering on your body, Nanami had to bite his lip to hold back the groan he wanted to let out.

“Hello, I am Kento Nanami. This is my date, please let her in.” Nanami’s stern voice irritatingly informed the woman. She looked up at Nanami with slight fear, she was different from the other guy who let him in, so she must be new.

You awkwardly smiled at the woman and walked towards Nanami. Nanami stepped to the side to let you walk past, and he eyed the woman up and down.

Nanami followed you and soon lead you to the table, and he pulled out your seat to help you sit down. He cringed at himself for acting so out of character for you. He never once felt or done this for a date, and so this all feels so forced.

“Thank you.” Your soft, sweet, voice quietly giggled and thanked him as you scooted your chair in with the help of Nanami.

“No problem.” He grunted. The awkward tension between you two was thick, but praise to god above, the waiter came over to the table.

“Glad to see your date arrived Mr. Nanami.” The waiter smirked towards Nanami, Nanami not finding it very funny. You looked in between them both, it just have been an inside joke.

“Can I get you both started with drinks?”

You looked at Nanami, insinuating him to order first.

“Um, What’s your finest wine?”

“That would be the Romanée-Conti, sir.”

“Then I will have that.” Nanami cleared his throat. You smirked, and looked at the waiter.

“A water would be fine, thank you.” The waiter nodded.

“I will be right back with your drinks.” Nanami and you both nodded back.

“So you don’t drink wine?”

“I’m 20.” You smiled at him.

Nanami felt a spring burst in his ear. You were 20, how could he forget!

“I’m sorry, I knew that, I do not know what’s come over me!" He scoffed at himself.

"Oh, no worries at all!" You awkwardly laughed. You hoped he wasn't too upset for forgetting your age..

"I tried a few types of wine before when I went to Europe with my family a while ago, I didn't really like any of them." You smiled, hopefully that helped ease his nerves.

Nanami chuckled, trying to erase the embarrassment he felt for acting so childish. No one would be offended if someone forgets their age..! "Am I a fucking child?! Who would get mad if I forget their age!" Nanami thought to himself.

"Wine is not for everyone. Took me a while to find my niche." Nanami smiled, making eye contact. You looked down when you caught his eyes, and tried to hide the smile that was creeping on your face.

Nanami knew that look, and felt his heart warm. "So, tell me, Y/n," he cleared his throat. "What are you majoring in?"

You looked back up, surprised at his question. "Uh, I'm majoring in business!" You smirked, seeing a sparkle appear in his eyes. You knew he loved to talk about business, hence everything in his profile was about business.

"interesting. Are you planning on starting one?"

"yes! I mean, I'm not sure what I want to do with any businesses I might create, but they're somewhere on the line of some sort of marketing." Nanami couldn't find you any more perfect. Not only are you beautiful and smart, you both share the same interests!

"Wow, I mean, if you need any help starting a business, you can always ask me. I've helped over 300 people start a business and 98% of them were successful." Your heart beated at the thought of having your own business and maybe a partner to help you through it all.

"really? I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I would love to, my favorite thing is to help others succeed. That's the whole point of my company."

You softly smiled, honestly completely out of words.

"Just let me know. But, let's put that aside, I'm curious, why were you truly on Richify?"

You laughed, you knew he would ask, I mean it was a very valid question.

"I could ask the same for you, but to tell you the truth, I want a rich husband." You were utterly amazed by how honest you were being. You barely know Kento and here you are telling him your selfish desires.

He lifted both of his eyebrows in shock, but had a playful smirk dancing on his face.

"Oh, is that so?"

"I don't like dating around. For the few guys I've been with, after maybe the second date, they just weren't the one so I limited who I met with and who I talked to." You scratched your head, hoping he agreed.

Nanami thought about his words carefully.

"Exactly that. I don't get how people can just hop from person to person, I can't stand the thought of it." Nanami chuckled, you chuckling with him.

"yeah, but you seem like someone worth my time." This time those words actually came out of your mouth on their own. You slapped your hand over your mouth. Nanami chuckled, amused by your slight embarrassment.

"is that so?" Nanami puting more emphasis on 'that'.

"I don't know why I said that.." you shyly giggle. He only eyed you down, making you more nervous.

"don't worry, I think you're worth my time also." Nanami winked, you smiled, and started to ease up. The waiter came back with the wine and water.

"Here you..go." he carefully set the wine glasses down, alongside a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine.

"would you like me to pour you your wine, or would you prefer to have the bottle?"

"I'll take the bottle, thank you."

"alright, are you both ready to order?"

You and Nanami gave him your respective orders, and the rest of the night went really well!

As the night went on, you found out truly why nanami was on that app and what his true desires were. The desires of wanting his own family, a family that didn't worry about money, a family that loved each other. You couldn't help but think about how a man with such power and influence would want such a normal life. But, you also smiled thinking about how much you both wanted the same thing.

You both also talked about how it was for a girl so young to not find any guys, and a guy so old to not find any girls and how funny it was that you both met.

You both also started to talk about things more deeper, more personal. You both talked about the failed relationships and the dates you went on, what your likes and dislikes were, turn ons and turn offs, what you both found weird or normal, or even your favorite type of animal. Everything either of you said did nothing more than to help the person you were sitting across fall more deeply in love with you.

Nanami admired every single aspect of you. He adored how wide your smile would get just from his jokes and stories alone, how beautiful your hands were, which were littered with rings, as they smoothed down your dress, he admired how clean and beautiful you looked, no matter how much you covered your face with your hands, he found you beautiful. No matter how much you nervously hugged your body, he found you even more beautiful. You were simply too beautiful for him to handle.

And ever since that night, dinners turned into breakfast, and breakfasts turned into brunches, and brunchs turned into amusement parks, and amusement parks turned into sleep overs, and sleep overs turned into moving in.

+

+

"Nanami," you sighed as he pulled you softly onto his lap, legs spreading as he held your hips tightly. "You know I couldn't do that to you, my apartment is fine!"

He looked up at you, eyes soft as a knowingly smile danced on his face. He's asked you quite a few times to just move in with him, you've always been hesitant to the idea, not sure if that's what your ready for. You've never moved in with a boyfriend, let alone someone like Nanami.

"I know baby, but it would be so beneficial for us both. I mean, we can carpool to work since you took that internship at my job, we don't have to worry about meeting up when we are always together, I mean, hell, you wouldn't have to worry about rent." He softly said, as you continued to have your worries.

His house was so empty without you there all the time. I mean, he barely has anything in that mansion, and whenever you come over, you always shiver from how cold it was, except when you get to snuggle under the warm pink blankets you brought to his house to give it a little color instead of the plain white, black, and gray color scheme.

"Yeah, but that's a big step. I mean I have a lot of stuff and 2 pets!" You looked into his eyes as you emphasized your point.

"I love Milo and Princess." He simply said.

"I have a lot of clothes" He smirked as I said that as if that was a laughable point.

"I have a few walk in closets"

"I mean, God knows if my landlord will let me move out, I don't really know the terms and conditions of my lease."

"we'll figure it out." His voice never wavered nor changed in tone as he softly reassured you.

You didn't have any other points than that, I mean, what if it doesn't... You know..

"Wait, but what if-"

"Y/n please, I'm not trying to pressure you, but I think you moving in would be for the best. It gets so lonely when I don't have you next to me every waking moment. I need you here with me, I need you to help fill this empty house with things you love, we love." Nanami chuckled thinking about how the house would be a completely new home with your charm added to it. It would have a warmer and homier feel to it.

His hands began to softly rub up your sides and to your back. His would softly glide over your skin, making you melt into his touch. You nodded and relaxed as his words of how much he wanted, no needed you here made you feel. You did want to live with him. You wanted to wake up and breathe his fresh smell, listen to his deep soothing voice hum any song, and feel him everywhere you go.

You wanted to say 'Yes nanami! I will move in with you!' but an underlying feeling of doubt still clouded your mind. You had to say something.

"Nanami, I want to live with you, I really do! But.." his hands stopped moving, and slowly settled back onto my hips.

"But? Is something wrong?" His face now wasn't as soft and playful, now more tense and worried.

"No, but.." I sighed, trying to look away from him. He softly grabbed my chin with his hand making me face him again, eyes staring up directly into yours.

"Tell me, I promise you, no problem can't be fixed."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't want to think this way, but.. What if we, you know, break up? I mean I can't afford to move out, and my family lives far and that would really su-"

"y/n." He stopped me before my head started spiraling. He knew how you thought. He knew how much you overthink simple things, and don't always see things positively.

He took a deep breath, unsure as to why you were thinking you both might separate.. were you..

Unhappy?

"Please tell me you aren't unhappy in our relationship." Nanami's eyes left your as he was now just searching your face for a confirmation.

"no! No of course not, I'm very happy, why would you think that?" Now it was your turn to grab his chin and make him face you.

"well, I mean, you're having doubts about us taking our relationship to the next level, and your scaring me with the thought you don't see us ending up in a happy successful relationship." His voice was so raw, so clear, he was genuinely nervous about how you truly felt.

You felt extremely terrible for even thinking so negatively. You knew your boyfriend hated when you thought negatively, always taking those thoughts as something you're actually feeling. And in this case, he was assuming you weren't happy in your relationship.

Nanami's eyebrows were extremely furrowed as he tried to process and read your facial expressions again for now, a sign of any lies in what you said.

Your face softened as you placed both of your hands on the sides of his face. Your thumbs came to his brows as you softly stroked them to help them go back to his they were as you spoke to him.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I promise I didn't mean to insinuate that. It's just, I've never moved in with a boyfriend of mine, and I usually like to prepare for the worst." Your voice was quiet as you felt his eyebrows' tension slowly release and his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. Nanami laid his cheek on your chest, and let out a huge breath in relief.

"Just.." nanami chuckled. "Just let me know what you decide on. I'm not going anywhere, so take as much time as you need." You smiled, and stroked his hair. You just hummed in response, and you both continued to peacefully dwell in each other's arms.

[carmenberzattosgf]

ok but like. what do u think carm’s take on (consensual obvs) free use would be. just a little thought :O

( this is from March 28th I deeply apologize for the length of time this rotted)

Carmy would be SO hesitant to try it. Even with a safe word in place Carmy would be scared to hurt you. It would take ages of you and him talking about it for him to agree, but the circumstances have to be very specific.

As unhinged as this may sound, I see this playing out for the first at the restaurant. You have one job, and that is to sit in his office for whenever he wants to have you. You both sit down and plan it out the night before so you would be completely in the know about the situation.

He brings you with him to the Bear the next day. Carmy’s always the first one there, so there’s no chance of anyone seeing you walk in with him.

You’ve got everything you need in a backpack with you as Carmy walks you into the office. A water bottle, snacks, your laptop, and any other little things you might need. ( for horny purposes I’m imaging a small love seat of some kind nestled in the corner of the office.)

You sit down on the loveseat and pull out your computer; the show you want to binge is already pulled up and ready. Carmy on the other hand sits at his desk to check his emails, making sure everything looks in order for service tonight. The comfortable silence in the restaurant ends as you hear the back door open. Carmen hops up out of his chair and walks over to you, leaning down to kiss your head.

“Gotta get out there now, baby. No one will come in here; the staff’s not suppose to without asking me first. You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Mhm! I would just be sitting at home doing the same thing, anyways. This way, I can make myself useful for you.”

It’s not even half way though prep when Carmy walks back into the office. As soon as he closes the door and locks it, you quickly put your laptop down beside the love seat.

He’s mad about something. You can tell by the way his fists are clenched at his sides. He makes his way to stand in front of where you sit. All you do is look up at him expectantly, not daring to say the first word.

“What are you waiting for? Go ahead.” He mutters, gesturing to his waistband. You make quick work of his pants. Carmy doesn’t bother to kick them off; he would need to get back in the kitchen fast anyway. You press your palm to the growing length in his underwear. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he watches you.

“Did something upset you, Carm?” You gaze up at him wide-eyed, like you weren’t eye level with his dick, palming him.

Carmen finally unclenches one of his palms, bringing it up to cup your chin. “I don’t think asking questions was part of the deal. Hurry up and get your mouth on me.” He lets go of your chin and glances over to the clock on his desk. Carmy doesn’t want to take too much time. If he is gone too long, it’ll look suspicious.

You start how you always do, with your hands running up his strong thighs. You lean in and mouth over his boxers. That doesn’t last long, though, before Carmy threads a hand through your hair to pull your head back. His other hand shoves down his waistband, freeing his cock.

“Open. Open up nice and wide for me.” There’s no hesitation on your part as you let your mouth fall open wide, sticking your tongue out for him. “That’s it. Perfect,” he rasps. You look up at him, breathing heavily, when he presses into your mouth. You whine around his length as the salty taste of him overwhelms your tastebuds.

He doesn’t force his cock down your throat, no; you do that all on your own. You make it your mission to take him all the way down your throat, and you do just that. Tears well up in your eyes when your nose juts against his pelvis. Your mouth repeats this motion several times, hollowing your cheeks while you take him as deep as you can.

Carmy looks down at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s breathing heavily through his nose. Seeing you with his cock in your mouth, drool spilling from your lips as you bob your head captivates Carmy. He would let you suck his dick all day if you wanted to. He’d let you sit at his feet and keep him warm with your mouth while he does paperwork.

There’s no time to be thinking about that now, though. Carmen’s eyes dart over to the clock on his desk once again. He’s already been in here for too long. He has too much shit in the kitchen to do.

With two hands, he pushes your hair back, holding your head in his hands. Carmy pushes you off of his length, letting you gasp for air. “Shit, you look so pretty, drooling for my cock,” he mumbles. A string of spit still connects your bottom lip to the head of his cock. Your lips are swollen and red. “Such a pretty little plaything. M’ gonna fuck your mouth. I don’t have time for you to blow me.”

Carmy pauses for a moment, raising his eyebrows. Despite the whole “free use” thing, he’s still trying to make sure you’re okay with this.

“P-please. Want you to cum down my throat.” Your jaw falls slack, just like before, waiting for him.

Carmy adjusts his grip to firmly hold the back of your head. He doesn’t go easy on you when he starts fucking your face. In every single thrust, his cock hit the back of your throat. You keep as quiet as you can, but you can’t help the gagging noises as you try to breathe through your nose. Tears flow down your face in full now as you take what Carmen’s giving you.

It doesn’t take but a minute of Carmy fucking your throat in earnest before he spills in your mouth with a low gravely moan. He pulls out of your mouth, watching you closely to make sure you’re still all good. Knowing he’s studying your every movement, you decide to put on a show. You open your mouth, letting Carmen see his cum sitting on your tongue, before swallowing it down.

“Fuck—I gotta get back to work,” Carmy tucks himself into his pants and is out the door within seconds, leaving you back to your tv show.

It’s quite awhile before Carmy walks back in the room again. It must be busy out there. The chaos in the kitchen is loud and clear from behind the closed door. You can just barely make out Carmen’s voice giving orders to his staff.

This time when he opens the door, he closes it with a loud slam. “Take off your clothes,” he commands, not even a second after stepping in the room.

As soon as your clothes are off, he’s pushing his pants down to free his cock. The love seat is small, but Carmen makes it work, climbing on top of you, and lining up with your core. He presses in to the hilt in one fast thrust, making a whine leave your lips.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart. Did sucking my cock really turn you on that much? Poor thing, I left you all needy didn’t I?” His voice has an edge of mocking in it. “Well let’s hope you cum before i do, because I gotta be quick. Richie fucking over booked the reservations, making my night absolute hell.”

Carmy sets a merciless pace. His goal is clear, make himself cum. You’re starting to get too loud for his liking, whimpering every time the head of his cock hits that spongy spot inside of you. Without a second thought, Carmy presses a palm over your mouth, muffling your noises.

“Do you want everyone to know I’m using you as a fuck toy in here? What would they think, hmm?” You shake your head quickly; the idea is mortifying. “No? Then be quiet.”

Carmy fucks you within an inch of your life. He has mercy on you, removing his palm from your mouth and placing his thumb on your clit to rub fast circles. That pushes you over the edge, pulsing around Carmy’s cock. He spills inside of you a moment later.

The rest of the night goes by fast. The next time he comes in, he kneels in front of you. He doesn’t say a word as he laps at your center, bringing you to orgasm within minutes.

By the end of service, you’ve fallen asleep on the loveseat, curled in on yourself wearing one of Carmy’s sweaters. When Carmen walks in and sees your sleeping frame, he walks back out. He knows you wouldn’t have minded if he fucked you while you slept, but he just doesn’t feel right about it. He had already put your though the ringer.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented to the feeling of being carried. “Carm?”

“Hey baby. I’m just carrying you to the car. You did so good for me tonight. Proud of you.”

“Oh- I didn’t mean to fall asleep. M’sorry.”

“You need your rest, my love. Don’t apologize. Let me get you home, and get you in bed so you can get some sleep.”

[meowsuguru]

eyes on me

Dancer!Reader x Bartender!Geto

౨ৎ cont: suguru geto x fem! reader, unprotected, first time squirt, oral f!receiving, confessions.

౨ৎ word count: 4.5k

౨ৎ a/n: my life blood ty to whoever reads < 3

It’s been an awful night. Smoke clings to your skin, hair, teeth, and tongue as you come back into the club from the backdoor. Just a quick break, allowing nicotine to ease the tension in your brain. The head rush gives you just a moment’s respite, but it’s quickly overtaken the moment you step back into the club. The neon lights that adorn the walls flicker. It only serves to emphasize your mood, and it’s the most sour of moods. All thanks to the countless men who have touched despite the “no touching” rule and the incessant requests. 

“Let’s meet after you get off work.” 

“If I give you $1000 can we fuck?” 

“I’ll slide a little bit more your way if you take care of this problem.”

It’s gross. More than that, it makes you feel dirty. 

It’s the same every night. Same sleazy men, with the same revolting dispositions. You’re just here to dance, something you love doing, to make a little money for college. It’s simple. It should be easy. You’re great at it. 

But, as you have the bouncer throw out another handsy client, it doesn’t feel as easy as it once did.

You hate it. It burns in your chest. You’ve been dancing here for almost eight months, and it’s starting to wear on you. Your head is spinning, tunnel-visioned on getting out. Gotta get out. Gotta get-

“Somethin’ wrong?” Calls the bartender, perceptive as you shake your head, snapping out of the daze you were in. 

“Nothin’, just the usual. It’s been a lot of scum these past few weeks,” you sigh, relieved to be talking to a friend. 

“You seem pretty frazzled. Need some water?” He offers as he wipes down the bar. 

It’s 10 minutes to closing time and the only clients left are the filthy stragglers who frequent the club every night. The bouncers make their rounds, cleaning house as they urge the clients to leave.

“You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here,” you hear one of them say. 

You nod, sitting down across the bar. A tall glass is slid to you, ice cold with condensation already frosting the outside. You take big gulps, your anxiety from the night calming slightly the longer the liquid slides down your throat. 

Suguru Geto never offers you drinks on the clock. He knows to take care of his girls. But, with the way you’re feeling, a real drink sounds better than nice. 

“Suguru,” you say, and he turns his head to meet your gaze. 

“I need a drink.” 

He looks at you pointedly and sighs. 

“You’re still on, princess. You know I can't serve you.” 

“I’m off in 10. Let me have it just this once. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t serious.” 

Suguru is a principled man. He believes in what he believes, and it’s nearly impossible to sway him. So when he says “no alcohol,” he means it. You groan, finishing your water. 

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks after a beat of comfortable silence, taking your empty glass and setting it to the side. 

“Not really,” you admit, laying your head on your arms. “Seven minutes. Then I’ll take my drink.” 

Suguru frowns, but eventually relents, nodding.  You watch as he cleans the leftover glasses from the night, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, signature one lock falling in his left eye. Suguru is good-looking, you think, but you’d never sleep with a coworker. Your job is already dramatic enough, no need to add fuel to the fire. Nevertheless, you quietly admire him as you wait for the time to pass. 

“Five minutes gives me enough time for a dance,” you say, “Need to end this night on a good note.” 

Suguru hums, eyes never leaving the glass he’s drying.

“Watch me?” 

When you ask this, you don’t know why. Suguru is nice to you, sweet. He cares about all the girls at the club. Perhaps you want to share your love with your friend. You really do love dancing, you think, as you walk up the steps of the stage.

The DJ spots you and puts a song on, something unhurried, languid, smooth like silk. You bring yourself up around the pole, two arms locked on tight as you swing your legs up. Your legs twist in a familiar way as you spin, slowly, letting your body fall backward as you grab the metal with your hands. You hang upside down now, legs crossed above your head. The way you move is easy— intentional— like this is something you were made for. You kick off, one leg at a time, arms holding still against the metal as you spin, slowly, fluidly like water. A glance at the bar tells you Suguru is watching just as you’d asked. Eyes closing, you continue to dance. 

Your song ends and you walk back down the stairs, eyes gazing at your feet.

As you walk up to Suguru, you notice he’s returned to cleaning up the bar. You tap your nails on the bar, quirking an eyebrow up at him to get his attention. He looks up, with that damned crooked grin. 

“You watched me.”

“Beautiful as ever.” 

You give him a soft smile, but it’s quickly dropped as your lips are pulled into a tight line. He notices this and sighs. 

“Fine,” he starts, “what’ll you take?” 

You hum, pleased. He rolls his eyes.

“Vodka soda, pretty please.” 

Suguru makes the drink easily, setting it in front of you with a cocktail napkin underneath. You bring the glass to your lips, relishing in the feeling of the alcohol hitting your tongue. You don’t stop: tipping your head back, letting the drink fill your mouth and slide down your throat. A bit spills out of the corner of your lips and you stop, the heel of your hand tenderly wiping up the stream. The way your lipstick smudges is not lost in Suguru’s gaze, as his eyes flick between your lips and your hand. 

“Easy, princess,” he warns, handing you a fresh napkin. You take it graciously and dab down your chin and chest where the drink spilled. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you answer curtly. 

“I think you do.” 

You regard him for a moment, a nasty side eye as he looks at you with that same damned smile. His eyes are so soft, so inviting. You consider it, as he stands there, letting you drink instead of closing up. The way he calls you princess, only you, the way he is always always there to lend you a shoulder. It’s just so easy for Suguru to break down your walls. 

“I’m tired, Suguru.” 

You hang your head, drawing circles on the bar counter. 

“Tired?” He asks, giving you an opportunity to explain. 

“With- with everything. I can’t just sit here and be demeaned all night every night. It’s exhausting,” you start, pushing your drink away. He grabs it and puts it off to the side. You don’t need the liquid courage for this now, you’re in the safe company of a friend. 

The club has been emptied by now, most of the lights turned off as the dim bulb of the bar hangs above you. Your breath shakes, and you wrap your arms around yourself. 

“I know,” Suguru’s eyes soften, “I know.” 

“I love to dance, and I need the money– the money isn’t even that good, it just-” you trail off, unsure of how to voice your anxieties. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

“Then quit,” he says simply. 

“It’s not that easy, Suguru-”

“I know. Sorry, bad advice,” he supplies. 

You say it’s okay, that he’s not your therapist or your life coach or anything of the sort. He shakes his head and flicks the light switch, leaving you two in the dark of the closed club. 

“Want to go for a drive?” He asks, your eyes adjusting to the dark finally as you make out his form. 

“Yeah.” 

–

You find yourself, dressed back in your daytime clothes, in the passenger seat of Suguru’s Jeep. Black interior, black exterior. This guy really has a vibe, you think. You throw your duffel in the back seat when you sit down, and Suguru turns the key, engine roaring to life. You don’t question where you’re going; you don't care where you're going. You roll the window down, feeling the wind hit your face. You close your eyes, remembering easier times. Suguru glances at you, and rolls his own window down. 

He drives, out of the city, and neither of you speak. The dying night’s air kisses your cheeks and ruffles your hair, sparring a bit of hope in your chest. It blooms, like love, and you watch the moon be chased down into the day. You hope and hope, tossing your frustrations away as each leak of light peeks higher in the skyline behind you. 

“I don’t want to be tired anymore,” you say into the wind. If Suguru hears you, you don’t know. 

He just drives, out and up.

–

You arrive at a plateau, abandoned in the dawn. The clouds are down far below your feet, orange skies breaking through the fog. You hop out of the car, sneakers hitting the gravel with a crunch. It makes the breath leave your lungs, the view. You turn, facing Suguru, your hair blowing around your face. He pauses as he comes around the front of the car, looking at you. His eyes are soft, as they always are. You tear your gaze away and look down at the city, far beyond the clouds, as the sun comes up over the horizon. 

 “I like to come here sometimes, when I’ve got too much on my mind,” he says, breaking the silence.

“I can see why.”

Suguru comes to your side, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. 

There is a chill in the air and you wrap your arms around yourself, tucking your nose into the collar of your hoodie.The two of you fall into another comfortable silence, the air stilling around you two. You lean up against the hood of the car, feeling the heat radiate off of it, warming your bones.

Suguru inhales, and exhales. He inhales again. In a rare display of vulnerability, he speaks. 

“You can’t let them get to you,” he starts; your name leaves his lips in a whisper. “They don’t mean anything, all those guys. You can’t let them break you.”

You look at him, and he looks ahead. 

“It’s getting too hard to ignore,” you reply, frowning. 

You look forward again, tearing your gaze away from his profile, face illuminated in the orange glow of the sunrise. 

“I think I need to quit dancing.” 

“Don’t. That was bad advice,” Suguru says, chuckling.

“I’m serious.” 

He looks at you now, eyes softer than you’ve seen.

“You’re the most beautiful dancer.”  

You tear your eyes away, staring at the sun. You squint, pulling your hoodie up over your nose this time. It’s funny. You can still see the stars in the sky, even as the sun comes up. It chases the night away, and you feel a warmth in your chest. A once-spirited young girl, broken by the brutality of her field. You sigh, letting it go, chased away by the day just as the stars were. Letting the hoodie fall below your chin, you look back at Suguru and find him still looking at you. His eyes roam your face, not scrutinizing, memorizing. As you open your mouth to speak, he shakes his head. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” 

– 

Suguru drives you home. The drive is quiet, save for the low music. You play the conversation in your head over and over, mulling over what you should do. When he pulls in front of your apartment complex, you turn, facing him. 

“I won’t quit,” you say, eyes fiery and newly determined.

“Good,” he smiles, “I’d miss you too much.” 

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” you laugh, the first genuine one in a good while.

“You’re makin’ me soft, princess.” 

You shake your head. 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” You ask, your stomach doing somersaults as he gazes at you with that stupid, dopey, lopsided grin and those half-lidded eyes.

“You’re my favorite girl,” he supplies simply, like it’s so obvious. 

“I bet you tell all the girls that,” you scoff.

“Nope. Only you,” he chuckles, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your skin a little bit too long to just be a friendly gesture. It’s tender, and there’s this look in his eye you don’t want to acknowledge.

You swallow. Sure, Suguru is smoking fucking hot but he’s also your coworker, which could make things awkward. You really don’t want another reason to hate work. But, you decide to throw caution to the wind, and see what happens. He’s your friend. He could be more. You shiver.

“Promise?” You ask, blinking twice. You stick your pinky out for good measure.

He loops his pinky in yours, shaking his head and laughing softly, the sound making you smile.

“Promise.” He raises your hands, placing a kiss on your interlocked fingers. Your heart just about stops at that, the gesture so… unlike what you’d expect from him. It has your mind reeling, thinking about what Suguru would act like as a boyfriend. 

“Suguru…” you say, low as you hold each other’s gazes, the air suddenly charged with something. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” 

A response catches in your throat and you nod, helpless. He leans in, cupping your cheek with his hand, and you instinctively move forward, lips parting. He’s so close you can feel his breath. He hesitates, eyelids fluttering closed, before he finally, finally presses his lips to yours. You feel like your mouth molds to his, and in an instant, you’re clutching at the nape of his neck, threading your fingers through his hair. He hums, the sound low as it rumbles through you, and you squeeze your eyes closed tighter, scared it’ll be over soon. It seems as if Suguru has no intention of stopping, as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. You gasp into the kiss, it feels so right to be kissing Suguru like this, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, prodding gently at your tongue. You about cry when he pulls away, a strangled sound leaving your lips. He just smiles, still leaned in close as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Come inside,” you exhale.

“I would’ve waited years to hear you say that. I’m so glad I didn’t have to.” 

–

It’s easy, with Suguru. He’s peeling your hoodie off, lips connecting to yours the moment your head is freed. He’s got one hand splayed out over the small of your back, pulling you closer, closer, closer. Your hands fiddle with the zipper on your skirt and he slips his free hand under it to cup your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. His hand snakes up your spine, stopping at your bra to unhook it with nimble fingers and helping you shed it from your front. His hand slides around you, thumb grazing the underside of your breast. He cups it now, kneading at the soft flesh. Your hands tangle in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. 

It’s just so easy. He kisses you like he’s taking care of you. The morning pours through the blinds in your room, dust trickling through the leaks of light. He lays you down, lips never separating from yours as your head hits the pillow. He pulls away to look at you, and he groans. His hair falls all around your face, framing both of you in inky black. 

“You. You can’t even see yourself,” he says, low and surprisingly breathless. 

You forego words for a shake of your head, and you inhale shakily. 

“You’re one to talk…” 

He chuckles, head dipping down to the crook of your neck, the sound reverberating throughout you. You always thought it was easier in the dark, but something about the soft light of the early morning feels just… so surreal. You tip your head to the side, letting his lips roam your neck, nipping at the soft skin. 

His hand comes up, rolling your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, while his lips travel down your neck, to your collarbone, to your opposite breast, taking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud. You arch yourself into him, your moans only spurring him on. 

“That fuckin’ sound…” he groans against your breast. “Do it again…” he attaches his lips back to your nipple, teeth grazing it ever so gently and you whine. 

He must’ve liked that because he's slipping his hand in between your thighs. His fingers press against your clothed center, feeling how wet you are through your panties. He can’t help himself, it seems, as he kisses down your stomach, head finding its place between your thighs. He inhales deeply, nose pressed against your cunt just aching with need, and he curses. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. You smell amazing. You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind, want you so much,” he babbles into your underwear, and you’re slowly starting to realize this guy is fucking filthy. You moan, the realization hitting you as he’s pulling your panties off with his teeth and stuffing them in his pocket. He sits up, pulling his long hair out of his face and into a messy ponytail. You rub your thighs together at the sight, feeling the slick between your legs. He comes back down, pressing his face against your inner thigh, inhaling your scent deeply. 

“My favorite girl, look at this pretty pussy…” he drags a finger through your wet folds, prodding at your entrance with a thick finger. You’re panting now, expectant and wanting, and he slowly pushes one inside, his tongue lapping at your clit as his middle finger enters you. He moans against your cunt, continuing to work you with his mouth as you writhe underneath him. You clench your legs around his head, the feeling too much, but he pries your legs apart with his free hand, pulling away.

“Nuh, uh, baby. I gotta hear every fuckin’ sound you make. As much as I want those thighs as earmuffs,” he says, reattaching his lips and tongue to you. 

He’s practically making out with it, pussy drunk and grinding his hips against the mattress. You feel the tension build in your gut, and he adds a second finger. You have to bite your lip, and he bites the inside of your thigh. You yelp, but the jolt of pain makes you clench around his fingers.

“Gonna make you come so hard you’ll be cryin’ baby. You want that?” he groans, working you with his fingers, his tongue darting back out to swirl around your clit. He sucks on it, and you buck your hips up into his mouth. He moans into you as you ride his tongue, grinding your cunt on his face like you need it. Because, you do. You need it so bad you’re begging him. 

“Please, Suguru,” you slur, chasing your high. 

“Oh god,” you cry, hand finding his hair, messing it up as strands fall in his face as he eats you out. You’re too focused on your release now, and his head stops moving, just letting you ride his face. 

“C’mon pretty girl. Give it to me. Please,” he’s whimpering into your cunt, sucking on your clit and curling his fingers just right and- fuck.

Your vision goes white and you’re gasping, hot and heavy in your gut as your orgasm shreds the last of your resolve and you are crying, hot tears spilling from your eyes as you tell him to keep going, keep going. He laps at you, working you through your orgasm, as he grinds himself against the mattress again. 

“So good, baby, you taste so good, I wanna make you squirt,” he says. He’s pumping his fingers into you as you ride out your orgasm, slipping a third in and you’re clenching so hard around him. He pulls his fingers out and you gush, you’ve never done that before and he’s drinking you up, your head spinning as you cry, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. He comes up for air finally, pressing a soft kiss on your stomach. 

“Knew you could do it, princess,” he mumbles against your skin. He’s on his knees again, positioning your hips as he unzips his pants, his cock springing up as it's freed from the constraints of his trousers. He wastes no time sliding his cock between your folds and then pressing at your entrance, your pussy sucking him in greedily as you moan, unable to form words or any coherent sounds. He’s so fucking thick it’s making your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut to help you get through the feeling of him bottoming out. 

“Don’t close your eyes, baby,” he says as he moves, thrusting into you again, “look at me while I’m fucking you.” 

Your eyes fly open and you’re nodding, helpless as he throws your ankles over his shoulders and hits you just right. 

“Jesus, fuck, Suguru…” You’re chanting his name, spurring him on.

“Christ, this pussy is fucking killing me,” Suguru groans as his cock slides back into you, making you cry out, his name spilling off your lips in short gasps. You feel your walls clench slightly at the feeling of being so full again, and he sets a brutal pace. He wraps his arms around your thighs as he fucks you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can hear how your skin slaps. You can’t even give a fuck how it’s seven in the morning, or how you’re going to quit your job after this so no other man can even think about touching you. Suguru must be a mind reader, because he’s bending you in half now, lips by your ear as he drives into you so deep.

“Quit your fucking job. Let me take care of you. I wanna take care of you baby, please,” he babbles, breath stuttering as you suck him in.

“Bad advice,” you murmur, jaw slack as your mouth hangs open in a gasp. 

“Fuck that, hnghh, want you all to myself. Gotta get you out of there, princess,” he hammers into you, cock so deep it’s brushing up against your cervix. 

“My pretty girl shouldn’t have to- fuckkkkk, baby- deal with all that bullshit,” he’s babbling into your neck, teeth clamping down on your pulse point. 

You clench around him at the need in his voice, the possessiveness eliciting a gasp from your lips. His girl? Your brain is mush at this point and you really like the sound of that. You feel the coil tightening in your gut as your second orgasm nears, and you're gripping at his hair, tugging on the strands, begging begging for your release. 

“You like that baby? Like when I call you my girl?” He groans, pace unrelenting. 

“You wanna be my girl, princess? Please. Please be my girl. Need you so bad. Always have.” He kisses you, not giving you a chance to answer. His need is felt as his tongue is shoved into your mouth, swallowing up your sounds. As he pulls away, you’re a mess. 

“Please, Suguru, Sugu… wanna be your girl, yes, yes,” you’re panting and he just whimpers into the crook of your neck again, breathy as he picks up his pace. The tip of his cock hits just right at this speed and you’re coming, eyes hitting the back of your skull as you shut them, rolled behind closed eyelids. He grips your chin in his hand, tapping on your cheek. 

“Look at me, baby.” 

And that’s how you are with Suguru. You look at him, because he asked you to. As your eyes meet, he knits his eyebrow together, groaning. You think, maybe, he needs you. 

You see stars around Suguru as you come, vision blurry from the wetness in your eyes and the intensity of your orgasm. Suguru groans as you spasm around his length, and his hips start to stutter. He is getting erratic with his movements, but takes it and fucks you through it just how you need it. 

“Shit, baby. Let me come inside you.” He’s begging you, hand on your cheek and his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you come down from your high, sensitive and spent. You let him prod his thumb into your mouth, slack-jawed and trusting. You don’t close it or suck, just let him do it. He groans at the sight, and you nod, finally. 

All it takes is that nod and the sight of your loose jaw. He thrusts, once, twice, and then he’s spilling into you, moaning in your ear, and you’re gasping, clutching at his back as he comes. 

“Fuck, baby, princess, love this, love your pussy, milking me for all I’m worth, fuck-“ he gasps, your hand sliding up to his hair as he babbles nonsense into your ear. 

“Fuckin’ love your pussy, love you so much, God,” he pants and you freeze, the words hitting you like a freight train. 

He stills, lips coming up to press a kiss to your forehead, the gesture tender and sweet in stark opposition to his filthier behaviors. Suguru freezes, his lips still on your forehead, before he pulls away. 

“What did you say?” You ask quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“I…” he starts, eyes mirroring yours. 

“I didn’t- I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.” 

“You don’t mean it?” You ask, a pang of disappointment aching in your chest. You’re not sure why. It must’ve just slipped out. He doesn’t have to mean it. You’re close, but nothing about your relationship insinuates he should feel that way. 

“No! I mean… I,” he fumbles with his words, exhaling sharply. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I just didn’t want you to think I was like everyone else.” He sighs, sitting up. The feeling of him pulling out of you has you feeling strangely empty emotionally. 

You’re not sure what to say. This is Suguru. Your closest friend as of recently, you work together. Though, you promised to quit your job for him, you think. 

Fuck it.

You smile, eyes bright and gleaming as your hands find his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you say. And you mean it. “For loving me.” 

That’s all you can offer him right now. Your thanks, and a promise as you hold your pinky up to him again, face flushed and hair sticking to your forehead. 

“I’ll be your girl.” 

“Promise?” He looks at you with that familiar lopsided grin. 

“Mhmm. I promise.” 

Softly, you kiss the junction of your fingers. 

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

the last bit of us (chapter one)

Plot: Tyler Owens hasn’t been home in a year. He’s survived all the storm chasing and motel living with his new partners as they try to save lives. But with all the damage they’ve taken from driving high beams first into monster storms, it’s time to pay the piper and bring the truck in for repairs. And the only person who can fix them is the best mechanical engineer he’s ever met. Eleanor Harding, his estranged wife.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Estranged Wife OC (Harding Daughter)

Word Count: 2441

Playlist Song: Snap by Rosa Linn

A/N: This is a hefty intro to Eleanor but really wanted to establish her before we get angsty!

prologue / one / two / three

______________________________________________________________

The sky was still dark when my alarm clock went off. My hand slides along the mattress, slapping the snooze button. It can’t be time already. There’s no way. I snuggle deeper into the mattress and peel one eye open to squint at the cracked window. The big moon is lower in the horizon but the sun hasn’t made its known yet. 

My phone starts to go off, across the room atop my bureau. “Fuck.” 

I try to get the kink out of my neck when I get up. The wooden floorboards of the farmhouse creak as I shuffle past the bureau into the bathroom and shut off the alarm. The bulbs above the mirror are too bright and I have to shut my eyes for a minute to adjust. I wash my face, toss my hair into a quick braid and pull up the weather app on my phone before heading downstairs. 

The coffeemaker in the kitchen is ancient but after a few taps and fiddling with the cord of the plug, it starts to gurgle. It’s a satisfying sound. While it brews, I check the living room through the archway for Carter. He’s still curled up under a small crocheted blanket on her couch where I left him last night. He’s too tall and most of his calves dangle over the arm of the couch. 

“Carter, time to get up,” I call and pull my thermostat off the drying rack to fill with fresh coffee. He doesn’t move. I sigh and look down at my watch. The long spider web of cracks in the glass doesn’t distract from the face. It’s 3:19 AM. We gotta get on the road. The wind chimes are loud out on the porch. The rain should be starting soon. 

“Carter,” I say again. I walk through the archway and grab the closest thing I can find and chuck the pillow at his face. 

Carter startles immediately, shouting “I’m up,” in the process. He grabs for his glasses, dropped onto the coffee table. 

“No you weren’t,” I say, stepping back into the kitchen to fill his thermostat. “We gotta go, the storm should be rolling in any time now and Birdie will murder us if we’re late.” When I turn to look at him, he’s sliding his rain boots back on. 

“I’m so sorry, I forgot. I thought you were Birdie’s boss,” he says, hand on his chest to fey surprise. 

“It’s too early for your sarcasm. C’mon.” The entryway into the house is cluttered with a few pairs of boots and sneakers, my raincoat and denim jacket along with a variety of hats hanging from the hooks. I stare at the wooden loveseat under the coat hooks while sliding on my boots. I can only see the bottom half of the painted heart on the backing. 

“El, anytime you want to get moving,” Carter says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

I blink a little, standing up and grabbing my own backpack. “Fuck you.” 

The farmhouse sits out in the middle of an open field in Guthrie, Oklahoma. The barn doors shudder a little from the wind and I can see my dad’s red beat up Dodge Ram on the lawn. I smile a little, pushing the screen door open. It squeals as I unlock the door to my truck and slide in. The engine stutters a little when it comes to life and we whip out onto the road. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asks me, taking a sip of his coffee. A bump in the road causes the truck to jump and a little splatters on him. “Ah jeez.” He tries to wipe at it and I can’t help but chuckle. 

“Not really,” I shake my head. I reach for the radio, turning the dial so I can hear the morning station. There’s a new Luke Combs song playing and I tap my fingers a little to the beat. “Too much on the brain with this project.” 

“I don’t know if you’re aware El but you always have too much on the brain,” he says.

“Well someone has to do work on this team,” I joke, smirking at him. 

It’s not a lie. Ever since Charlie and I had gotten our first big contract with FEMA, I had been in nonstop work mode. Throwing myself into each project a little deeper than the last. It was probably worrisome how much time I spent at the warehouse, elbow deep in some new tech but I couldn’t help myself. It was a safe and mindless space, fixing and tinkering. 

We drive down the long stretch of dirt through the fields and I peer up at the sky again. There’s a loud ringing in the cab of the truck and I glance over at Carter, peering down at his phone. “It’s Birdie,” he says. “She says we’re late.” 

I grin a little, shaking my head as the warehouse comes into view. The freshly painted sign on the building reads TempestEdge Innovations. I push the button on the callbox and the military grade barrier raises to allow me to drive through. I swing around the side of the building to the open garage door. It’s just about 3:46 AM. 

I slide out of the truck as the door to the garage closes behind me. “You’re late,” Birdie’s voice echoes across the warehouse. 

“Birdie, give me a break, I had to make four repairs last night before we left,” I say, walking toward the tall blonde woman. Her hair is pulled snug up into a ballerina bun, a clipboard held to the fleece of her vest. “Not all of us go for a run a 2 AM to start our day.” 

She scoffs and shoves me playfully. “Maybe you should give it a try.” 

We grin, making our way deeper into the warehouse where all of our desks are crowded together with a few computers. Tables of spare parts, design blueprints and drawings and our small kitchen are scattered throughout the space. Beyond that, my engineering floor houses large models and mock ups that sit large and wide. 

I drop my bag at my desk and smile at the photo frame on the corner. It’s from graduation at OSU. We’re all making funny faces at the camera, hugging each other tightly. I tap on my keyboard to wake the screen, noticing my phone buzzing in my pocket. I ignore it and look up, “How’s everyone doing this morning?” I ask.

“Morning E,” Palmer, our Meteorologist says when she looks up over her computer screen. She gnaws on her lip, auburn brows raised. “I don’t think this classifies as morning quite yet.” 

“I mean, dawn, maybe?” Sean says, walking up from behind me with a coffee mug in hand. It’s white with rope lettering that spells out This ain’t my first rodeo! Sean walks over to Birdie who is looking over her clipboard, comparing it to the large chalkboard we wheeled over to her corner of the office. She’s talking to herself as he kisses her head on the way to his desk. 

“Dawn is defined by a sun rising in the sky,” Carter remarks, tapping away on his computer. “Definitely not dawn yet.” 

We’re interrupted by Charlie, stepping into the office space with her phone pressed to her ear. “Alright, yes. I can definitely get out there next week. Thank you so much, have a wonderful day,” Charlie says. She smiles at everyone. “Alright team, let’s get this test going.” 

Everyone slides up from their desk chairs, grabs their tablets and walkies and heads to the back of the warehouse. We slide on our swanky mesh neon vests, easily identifiable out in the storm. Sean slides the back door open and we step out onto the ramp. The rain has started and it’s coming down sideways, like a thick curtain across the landscape. A few hundred feet from the warehouse, a row of buildings line up on either side. 

“Alright, we all remember safety procedures?” Birdie asks, looking over her clipboard. There’s a chorus of noise and Birdie grumbles. “C’mon people, we’re all about to bunker separately for the tornado. Do we all remember safety procedures?” 

“Birdie, we’ve done these bunkering tests a few times now, c’mon,” I say. 

With our current contact, we started trying to build new infrastructures on different buildings to withstand a tornado in the hopes to help families and businesses not fall into a pit of financial burden from having to rebuild. It was the biggest project yet and took us nearly six months just to build the fake town with different materials and different methods. The only way to collect data around the structural integrity of the buildings was to bunker into each of the different variations.

Palmer had tracked cells moving toward the area and we were certain an EF2 was heading straight for us. Which was a perfect opportunity to split up again and see how well the buildings held up. It would be our third test trial. It’s not the smartest move but growing up with two crazy famous storm chasers? Kind of breeds crazy. 

The winds start to pick up and I look up at the debris and dust kicking up in the air. “Alright guys, let’s head out,” I say, turning on my radio. We take off in different directions, saying goodbyes and waving each other off through the harsh winds. While Charlie stays safe inside the warehouse, Birdie takes to the gas station, Sean the grocery store. Palmer heads to the farm house tucked behind everything and Carter yells “Stay safe” as he turns into the doctor’s office. I head the furthest down the road to the bar & grille. 

I look up the doors behind me, moving to the safety corner where all the monitors are. I slide into my space and settle in, logging into our tracking system on the tablet to type in my notes. I can barely hear the wind outside and pull my walkie talkie from my waist. “Alright, I am settled and am clear. See you guys on the other side.” 

I wait, anxiously tapping my foot as I watch the footage off the street for the incoming destruction. But ten minutes passed with no noise whatsoever. I glance up and toward the door, confused. I tap the storm tracker, noticing the pattern of movement for the storm diminishing. I click the button of the walkie with my thumb. “P, am I reading right that the storm choked itself out? Over,” I say, watching the monitor again. 

“The winds are dying down, I think it missed us,” Palmer calls back.

“Let’s hold for another five minutes to be cautious,” Birdie’s voice crackles. But five minutes pass with no movement. Birdie calls that we’re clear and I head out of the building. The sun is starting to rise, illuminating the fields with a golden glow as if there hadn’t been 40 to 60 mile an hour winds and rain only a little while ago. 

“We woke up at the ass crack of dawn for this?” Carter groans. 

“Not dawn,” Palmer corrects, walking in step with us back to the warehouse. Birdie wraps her arm around Sean’s waist as they step ahead of us. 

“The conditions seemed perfect,” Birdie says, shrugging. “All we can really hope for.” 

The door slides open to the warehouse to reveal Charlie. She’s got this fixed look on her face as if she just stepped in dog shit. “We’ll get the next one Charlie, no need to fuss. They know that we can’t control the conditions of the storms,” I point to the sky and pat her on the shoulder. 

“That’s not what soured my mood,” she says. She crosses her arms over her chest and huffs. 

My eyebrows knit together in confusion as the team steps passed us, back to our desks. “What is it?”

“Someone’s out at the gate,” she says, nodding to the opposite end of the warehouse. “Someone’s here? No one comes here.”

“Oh, if only,” Charlie says. She turns on her heel, heading to the door on the other side of the building. I rack my brain for people who know the warehouse. We had some rich investors who would stop by trying to buy us out, our clients and FEMA reps that would come our way to see new tech and some family but, Mom and Dad would’ve called me before showing up. Curiosity kills the team and I hear their chairs scrap against the floor. Loud footsteps follow us as Charlie shoves the door open with a knowing look.

I step around her and peer out at the gated entrance to see a suped up red Dodge rumbling idle. The engine turns off after a moment and the driver side door swings open. I see his cowboy boots before I see him. He’s wearing a stupid flannel and his stupid backwards baseball cap. Tyler. He takes off his sunglasses, expression is hard to read. He’s not showing his normally beaming pearl whites that I caught a few times while passing Carter’s viewing of their YouTube videos. His face is stiff, uncomfortable as he rests his hands on his hips. What takes me by surprise is the young woman who steps out of the passenger side. 

I don’t notice my feet are moving until I realize how far away Birdie’s “Son of a bitch” is. I don’t even realize how fast I’m moving or how close Tyler is. “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask when I’m close enough that I could throw a rock if I wanted to. And I wanted to. 

He looks down, trying to collect his thoughts. I can see the gears turning in his brain, trying to figure out what to say to me. He rubs at his jaw, nearly smiling and leaning up against the door of the truck. His eyes sparkled a little. “Hi El.” Bold to go with charm. 

“That’s all you have to say? Hi El?” I cross my arms across my chest, staring him down. He’s insane.

Tyler purses his lips, gaze softening as he takes me in. He turns to look at the woman, now having moved in front of the hood of the car. “Kate,” his drawl is still thick with an enthusiasm that can’t be rivaled. “Meet Eleanor. Eleanor Owens.” 

“I prefer to go by Harding these days,” I retort. 

“Owens…you mean–,” the woman – Kate – stutters a little. 

“Wife,” I state, turning to look at her. “He means wife.”

Thank you for reading! Want to be added to the tagged list or share feedback? Click here :)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

study sesh

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex

“rafey, i don’t know how you expect to help me study considering you’ve never even taken an anthropology class before.” you say into your cell phone.

“i can help you concentrate! keep you focused, bring you snacks, hand feed them to you.”

“you know you’re only going to be a distraction.” you say, genuinely needing to study.

“okay, okay.” rafe says with a chuckle. he had no intention of actually helping you study. “how about a deal? you have an hour of solo study time before i come over.”

you look at the clock, figuring you could cover most of the chapters that would be on the exam tomorrow. “alright. bring snacks though.”

you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone when he responds, “i wouldn’t dream of not.”

--

“hey baby, you gotta be quiet.” rafe shushes you as you bounce on his cock again, textbooks long forgotten, decorating the floor along with your pens and flashcards.

“can’t.” you whine, knowing that your dorm walls are thin and the girl across the hallway is a tattletale who has reported rafe for sneaking into your room multiple times before.

“gotta, princess.” rafe says, bringing you down into a kiss to hopefully smother your whimpers and moans.

“trying, i swear.” you tell rafe, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sure to leave little crescent marks on his skin.

“i know, and you’re doing so good for me, huh?” rafe brings one hand down to your clit, massaging it and spreading your wetness around. “always my good girl.”

you nod your head quickly, loving the praise. rafe flips you over quickly so you are laying on the bed, keeping his cock lodged deep inside of you as he does so.

“ahh…” you let out a quiet moan, rafe’s cock reaching deep inside of you. 

“cum for me.” rafe demands, pinching your clit. upon release, you let out a shudder as your orgasm racks through your body. rafe closes his eyes as your cunt pulsates around his cock. he takes deep breaths as he waits for you to come down from your high, wanting to force another orgasm from you before he came inside of you.

“so good.” you place your hands on rafe’s cheeks, bringing him down to kiss you.

“i know, you got another in you?” rafe asks as he picks up the pace again. it’s already your third orgasm of the night, being given one by his fingers and one by his tongue.

“can’t.” you whine, pushing his hand away from your clit.

“oh, but you can, my love.” your boyfriend teases you, but takes his hand away from your pussy, gripping your hips as he uses your body to meet his with every thrust, a slapping sound no doubt able to be heard by your neighbors.

rafe suddenly pulls out, silencing your complaints with a kiss as he gets off the bed, grabbing a stack of flashcards from the floor.

“what is primatology?”

“wh- what?” you ask, pussy throbbing, missing the sensation.

“you said i would just be a distraction while you studied. i’m proving you wrong. let’s study. want me to fuck you? tell me what primatology is.”

“study of primates, like apes and shit.”

“language, but good job.” rafe says after he flips over and reads the back of the card. he lines his cock up with your entrance, giving you one quick thrust.

“what is ethnography?” 

“study of…” you let out a gasp as rafe thrusts into you, “cultures.”

“you’re so smart.” rafe praises, giving you a couple more thrusts as he reads the next card, “who was franz boas?”

“he developed a theory of… something.” you can’t think of anything as rafe’s cock pulses inside of you.

“cultural relativism.” rafe explains, tossing the card onto the floor, pulling out of you.

“nooo, rafe, please. fuck me and then you can quiz me.” you beg.

“then you won’t have any motivation, sweetheart.” rafe smiles gently, “besides, your test is in the morning, you need your sleep, and we are multitasking to save time.”

“what is cultural relativism?” 

you rush to answer, needing to feel rafe inside of you again, "that we judge cultures based on the standards of our own."

“good.” he coos, tossing the card as his cock re-enters you.

“what is stimulus diffusion?” 

“the spread of ideas from one group to the next.”

“aaand…” rafe prompts you, giving you a hard thrust.

“and the… the idea being changed by the adaptors.”

“good.” rafe smiles, “answer the next two right and i’ll give you a break… and let you cum.”

you nod quickly.

“what is acculturation?” 

“adapting... assimilation to a dominant culture.” rafe reads over the card and then nods, you summed it up well enough, and his need to also cum lets him give you a pass.

“what is the result of acculturation?”

“abandoning of original culture and um… uh…”

“good enough.” rafe tosses the rest of the cards on the floor, smashing your lips together in a kiss.

he thrusts up into you, hitting just the right spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

“can’t last.” you whimper out, bringing a hand down to rub your clit.

“cum for me, smart girl.” 

you immediately follow his demand, tumbling over the edge as your legs lock around rafe’s hips, forcing him to cum inside of you.

“there you go.” rafe hushes you as your body slowly stops shaking. “good girl.” he kisses along your shoulders and collar.

“now…” he sits up, letting his cum slide out of you. “what is biculturism?”

[simjaexy]

Todo De Ti

Pairing: Loser! Sim Jaeyun x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Wanting to get out of the house you decided to go with your friend to a roller skating rink that opened. Upon going there you meet someone that took a liking to you and doesn’t plan on leaving you alone.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: Cursing, One minor incident

Note: Not proofread. This song has been stuck in my head so why not make a one shot out of it! Jake is somewhat of a loser on here. Btw this is set in english cause I’m obsessed with Jake’s Australian accent.

“Y/n did you do the dishes?” You mom yelled. You groaned and rolled around.

“Yes!” You yelled back. You took your phone out and looked through your social media. Today was the weekend which meant for people to go out and have fun.

You on the other hand, aren’t doing anything. You were bored and had nothing to do which sucked. You cleaned all day with no text messages from your friends.

You breathed through your nose and put your phone down. You stretched your limbs and got out of bed to get a snack from the kitchen.

Upon going down there you saw your mom watching her TV drama. She smiled at you.

“Aren’t you gonna hang out with friends today?” She asked. You shrugged your shoulders and grabbed Cheez-Itz from your cabinet.

“I guess I’m just gonna stay home. Seems like everybody busy.” You replied. She hummed and looked back at the TV

You went back upstairs and heard a buzz from your phone. You picked it up and looked at the contact. It was your friend Shunua.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! What are you doing today?”

“Nothing why?”

“The new roller skating rink opened. We should go together with the other girls!”

You thought about it for a moment. You remembered how much you loved to skate when you were little with your parents. You smiled thinking about the memory.

“Sure. What time?”

“How about at seven?”

You looked over at your clock. six thirty.

“That’s fine.”

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up! Bye!”

You chuckled and said bye back. You shake your head while smiling. Shuhua was always excited to do new things.

You went over to your closet and scanned your clothes. Since you’ll be inside you decided to wear a sweatshirt and shorts.

You brushed your hair and put on some light make up. You finished dabbing your blush and put on your shoes before going downstairs.

You saw your mom staring at you, “I’m going with Shuhua to the roller skating rink.” You said.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “The one that just opened?” She questioned. You nodded.

Your took your phone out of your back pocket when you heard a buzz to see that Shuhua’s here. You put your phone back.

“I gotta go. I’ll be back before midnight!” You said. She bid you goodbye as you shut the door and headed to Shuhua car.

“Ready to go?” Shuhua asked. She put her phone down and started the car.

“Yup.” You chimed. She drove out your driveway and started heading towards the roller rink while blasting pop music making you shout out the lyrics.

Once you made it there you noticed how there was multiple people here. Families, couples, teens. You and Shuhua made your way inside, pushing people around to get to the desk.

Shuhua did all the talking while you looked around. The lights were different colors like a disco party, a dj playing music and switching it up.

There was even a dance floor that people were dancing on. You smiled seeing them sing the songs out loud.

You and Shuhua got your shoes and headed to a table you reserved. You both took your shoes off and put on the roller skates.

“To be honest I forgot what it’s like to roller skate.” Shuhua admitted. You giggled.

“Me too.” You replied. You both slowly got up and went towards the rink. You went out first, holding on to the railing. Shuhua came out second while trying to grab you.

You reached out for her and lead her near the railing, “Is it okay if I take a lap real quick?” You asked. She nodded.

You smiled and let her go. You started to skate around people. You forgot how much you loved to skate. You felt a rush of adrenaline through your body feeling your hair come off your shoulders on how fast your going.

You were going so fast to the point you didn’t notice another person coming the wrong way towards you.

Slam!

You felt your eyes close on the hard impact on your body and fell to the ground. You groaned in pain while the other person made a noise.

You looked up and made eye contact with him and your heart stopped. He was definitely not ugly, but that doesn’t changed the fact that he bumped into you.

“What the hell man? Don’t you know you were going the wrong way?” You snapped. The boy rubbed his head.

“Well why were you going so fast?” He asked. He had an Australian accent. You felt yourself blush at his voice.

“B-Because you can! It doesn’t say you can’t. Besides, you’re in the wrong either way!” You bellowed. He rolled his eyes and got up.

He took his hand out, “Well I apologize. I didn’t know I was going the wrong way. It’s my first time skating.” He admitted.

You grabbed his hand making him lift you up. You fixed your clothes and stared at him.

“Well I accept your apology, uh,”

“Jake. Sim Jake.” He replied. You nodded your head.

“I accept your apology, Jake.” You said. He smiled.

“Can I know your name?” He questioned.

“Y/n.” You spoke. You gave him a smile before skating to Shuhua.

“Girl where were you? A bunch of kids were making fun of me for holding this railing for dear life.” She whined. You laughed and held onto her.

“Kinda had an accident with someone.” You said. She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Were they cute?” She teased. You shrugged.

“He wasn’t so bad looking.” You admitted. She gasped and playfully slapped your arm.

“He? And you didn’t ask for his number?” She asked.

“Well what he did wasn’t a really ‘Can I have your number’ type incident. It was more like a ‘I’d punch you in the face if you weren’t so cute’.” You replied.

“Oh did he bump into you or something?” She said. You nodded. She laughed.

“That’s funny! I should’ve seen that, but you disappeared in a flash.” She joked. You giggled.

You both made it on the carpet and rested on the railing part, viewing the people. You were both joking around until Shuhua elbowed you.

“Is it just me or is that guy staring at you weird.” She said. You looked over and noticed it was the guy, Jake.

They were talking while staring at you before laughing and patting Jake’s shoulder. You saw a pout on his lips, one of his friends pointing it out before laughing again.

You cleared your throat and looked at Shuhua.

“Yeah well I don’t think he’s looking at me.” You muttered. She gave you a ‘really’ look before playfully pushing you.

“Wait, was that the guy your bumped into?” She interjected. You slowly nodded. She cackled.

“Girl now you gotta be confident in yourself, seriously. You gotta be ready and take that dick.” She said. You almost choked on your spit with the last sentence.

“I don’t wanna have sex with him yet!” You bellowed. She raised an eyebrow.

“Yet?” She smirked. Your eyes widened and glared at her.

“You know what I mean.” You interjected. She threw her head back laughing.

As you were about to say another thing you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and almost fainted.

There stood the boy you definitely did not want to see. He had a smile that made your legs feel wobbly. You looked over at Shuhua, but she was no where in sight.

You cursed and looked back at the boy, “Uh, hi?” You said. He chuckled.

“Hey.” He replied. His voice with an Australian accent. Yeah he’s definitely gonna bag you tonight. You cleared your throat.

“Do you need something?” You asked, titling your head, judging.

“Yeah, your number.” He spoke. It was quiet for a second. The only sound was the music in the background playing.

All of a sudden you burst out laughing. You couldn’t help but find the pickup line terrible and cute.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, “Was it really that bad? My friends told me to say that.” He mumbled. You heard him let out a curse about his friends and wiped away your tears.

“No no, it’s cute, actually.” You said. His face lights up like a puppy. Cute.

“Really?” He beamed. He tilts his head making you giggle.

“I mean, at least you tried you know?” You reasoned. He hummed. The chatter of people made you remember you were still in public.

You stared off into the view of people roller skating and suddenly had an idea. You looked over at Jake.

“Wanna skate? You know, after bumping into me you at least owe me a skate together.” You asked. He chuckled.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” He said. He took his hand out for you, you accepted it. You both walked towards the rink and stepped onto it.

Slowly, you both rolled along the smooth glossy floor. You laughed as Jake tried to show off, but failing miserably by almost slipping.

You started going a bit faster making Jake yelp, “Wait I don’t know how to skate!” He yelled. You laughed and slowed down, but not without teasing him once in a while.

He soon got the hang of it and before you know it, you both were skating together while holding hands. Your hands molding together perfectly.

You won’t lie and say it didn’t make your heart race a little when he sent a smile your way. The song changed into a slow one as the light turned a bright red and white.

It was a slow romantic song for couples. You and Jake looked at each other. He sent you a wink while you bashfully looked away, smiling with your cheeks pink, and it definitely wasn’t the blush.

“Is this my time to be honest with you?” He suddenly said. You looked at him confused.

“Did you lie about your name being Jake?” You questioned.

“What no- well kinda? Well my korean name is Jaeyun but here it’s Jake.” He said. You laughed.

“That’s cool.” You replied. He shyly smiled.

“But that’s not what I wanted to say. What I wanted to say was that I knew I was going the wrong way, I just didn’t know how else to talk to you.” He admitted. Your eyes widened.

“You wanted to talk to me, so you bumped into me making me almost get a concussion?” You joked. He shook his head.

“No! I didn’t wanted to do that- but are you seriously okay? I didn’t know you were going so fast and I-“

“I’m fine, Jake.” You smiled. He nodded and looked ahead.

It was silent while the music was playing before you looked at him, “If you actually went up to me, I would’ve gave you my number.” You said.

“So that means I can’t get it now cause I bumped into you?” He asked. You let out a hum.

“Well since you’re so cute, I guess I could let it slide and give you it.” You mumbled. He almost didn’t hear you.

He gave you a big smile and bumped his fist up in victory. You laughed at his action.

The song finally ended and went to a more upbeat one. More people started going in the rink once they heard the music.

“Wanna go sit?” Jake requested. You nodded your head as you both left the rink. You took off your skates and put on your shoes.

“Oh shoot, I left my shoes over there. I’ll go get them!” He said before leaving. You looked around and spotted Shuhua talking to a guy. She was practically all over him, but he didn’t seem to mind it.

You chuckled as Jake came back just as the song ended. The music changed to one you were familiar with making you gasp. It was your favorite song, Todo De Ti.

“I love this song!” You said. Jake looked at you confused.

“You know Spanish?” He questioned. You laughed.

“Only to this song. Come on let’s dance!” You rejoiced. You grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the dance floor you saw earlier.

The wind rubs your hair

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Those beautiful eyes kill me

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

I like your scent, of your skin the color

And how you make me feel

I like your mouth, that pink lipstick

And how you kiss me (Yeh)

There was already people there making you and Jake kinda mush together, but still enough space for you two to dance individually.

I want to wake up with you

Do it after smoking (Ayy)

I don't have anything to look for anymore

Something away from here

You combine with the sea

That bikini looks phenomenal

There’s no gravity that can lift me

You make me desperate (Yah!)

You swayed your hips to the beat while Jake dance with you. You were singing the lyrics like your life depended on it making Jake smile.

You accelerate my heartbeat

And like еverything about you

Of all your parts, which do I decide?

And likе everything about you

“Es que me gusta todo de ti!” You shouted. Jake furrowed his eyebrows.

“What does that mean?” He questioned.

“And like everything about you!” You replied. He let out a ‘oh’.

“What’s this song about anyways?”

“It’s about a guy that confesses he likes everything about this girl he spotted at a roller-skating rink!” You said. Jake stopped dancing and you did too.

You have a him a confused looked before realizing what you said.

“Well isn’t that a coincidence?” He teased. He pulled you closer by the waist making you gasp.

“Y-Yeah, it is.” You stuttered. He smirked. He cupped your face.

“Does he get the girl at the end?” He whispered. You felt a shiver down your spine.

“I-I don’t remember.” You whispered back. He brushed his lips against yours. His soft plush lips making you yearn for more.

“Well I know what my ending is.” He said before finally kissing you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he gripped your waist. The song slowly coming to an end as you and Jake broke the kiss, making you gasp for air.

“I like everything about you.” He said. You giggled and kissed his cheek.

“I like everything about you too.”

[stvharrngton]

don’t leave me hangin’ on the telephone

a/n: just a lil somethin somethin i wrote inspired by a certain blondie song :^)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), dirty talk, friends to lovers sorta, hint of perv!steve if you squint

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

Your back hit your bed with a quiet thud, your clothes still stuck to your body, one shoe off, one shoe on. The bottle of wine, or two, you shared with Nancy sounded like a great idea at the time but now the room was spinning and your skin was buzzing, it seemed less so.

Groaning, you managed to get your other shoe off, downing half the glass of water you’d left on your nightstand. You glanced at the red numbers on your alarm clock, 12:02 they read, and then at the phone on the table.

Wine always had you like this. A little needy, a little desperate. Hot under the collar and skin clammy, usually fixed with a cold shower or a hand shoved down your panties.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, toying with the flesh as the scenario you imagined swirled around your brain. He’d been on your mind all night, in fact, he was never off your mind. A crush on your best friend that he was totally oblivious to.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, picking up the phone and dialling the number you had memorised long ago. It rang out a couple times, a part of you hoped that he wouldn’t pick up but another part of you hoped he really fucking did.

“Hello?”

Your heart was in your throat as the person on the end of the line answered, their voice gravelly and rough as if they’d just woken up. 

“Hi, Stevie,” you whispered as innocently as you could. Fingers curling around the phone cord as you try your best to remain calm.

“What time is it, is everything okay?” your heart swooned at the quick change of tone in his voice, the panic evident. Steve knew you were hanging out with Nancy tonight and there would be alcohol involved, he just hoped you hadn’t gotten yourself into any trouble.

“A little after midnight,” you replied, your fingers toying with the strap on your top, thighs squeezing together at the mere sound of Steve’s voice on the other end, “and I’m okay, just wanted to hear your voice s’all.”

Ouch, subtlety was never your thing when tipsy. You could only imagine the look on Steve’s face in the dark of his bedroom, hair still full of sleep, lips soft and pink, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” You could hear the cockyness clear in his voice, the sound making you gnaw on your bottom lip out of arousal.

“No reason.” You lied. There was a reason, a reason that you hoped Steve would be able to pick up on so you wouldn’t have to utter the words yourself. Something told you that you were both on the same page.

Steve thought he was dreaming when he answered the phone and you were on the other line, voice sweet like saccharine. Truth be told you were all Steve thought about. His gaze follows you whenever you aren't looking, thoughts circling his mind about how his life would be ten times better if you were his girl. Innocence interrupted by impure dreams of how good you would look bouncing on his cock whenever you would wear that skimpy red two piece by his pool, or that skirt was a little too short.

“I’ll just hang up then if you won’t tell me, sweetheart.” Steve teased.

“No!” you cried, internally closing in on yourself at how desperate you sounded, “No, please don’t go.” Your fingers were now teasing the waistband of your shorts, your need to keep Steve on the line ever present.

Steve chuckled on the other end, hushing you as you got yourself worked up. “Fine, fine,” he started, “but you gotta give me something here, love.”

You groaned, cursing as you hoped he wouldn’t actually make you say it. “Just keep talking, please?” you asked, fluttering your lashes wishing he could see, “I just need to–” you cut yourself off, preserving your dignity.

Steve played along happily, engaging in small talk until he could hear the quiet breaths and subtle groans coming from the end of the line, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he blurted out.

You could only respond with a small moan, your fingers now situated in your panties, your index finger teasing your throbbing clit. Your eyes shot open as soon as the noise left your mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in total embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered under his breath, “are you touching yourself, pretty girl?” he cooed, his attention fully on the sounds you were making on the other end of the line.

“No, I–” your voice quivered, “you think I’m pretty?” you asked innocently, Steve’s words suddenly registering in your foggy brain.

Steve chuckled, running a hand through his messy bed hair, “I do, yeah,” you could hear his breath become a little heavier, a little more shaky, “but I’d think you were a whole lot prettier if your hand was in those panties.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. All you could hear was your racing heart beat, all the blood rushing to the tips of your ears. Steve’s voice rang in your ears when he spoke up again.

“You still there, babe?” He asked, minor concern mixed with self assuredness lacing his voice.

“I’m still here, Stevie,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “gonna tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about?” he asked, his own palm running down his chest now, fingers sitting pretty at the waistband of his boxers.

You considered not answering, considered telling him some lie that somehow ended up with your fingers playing with your pussy to the sound of Steve’s voice, but fuck it, you were too far gone.

“Y-you.” Your voice was shaky, full of adrenaline and wracked with nerves. You squeezed your eyes shut as you waited for his response, your thighs clenching as your clit throbbed in anticipation.

“Yeah?” he questioned, “What about me?” 

You sighed in response, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You cursed Steve at the boldness of his question and you knew he would pull the answer from you one way or another. On the other hand your head was too fuzzy and all you could think about was the tension in your lower stomach and Steve.

“Your fingers.” you breathed, fingers now circling your clit once more.

“Oh yeah?” Steve chuckled, “What about my fingers, pretty girl?”

The pet name made you swoon and your heart beat faster, “How good they’d feel in my pussy,” you whispered down the phone. You were now long past caring about any feelings of embarrassment or preserving any dignity.

You heard Steve mumble out a curse on the other end of the line before he spoke again, “Mm, I bet they would. Why don’t you take your fingers and pretend they’re mine for a minute, hm?”

“Fuck,” you whined as your fingers moved further south, circling your entrance before you plunged a single finger into your cunt. You breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling, a sound that went straight to Steve’s cock.

The boy had his fingers wrapped around his length now, softly tugging as his lips parted, praying to God that this was real and wasn’t some sort of cruel dream. He had the girl of his dreams moaning and whimpering on the end of the phone line, Steve swore he had died and gone to Heaven.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He cooed, his voice sticky sweet and a sexy kind of patronising.

“Y-yes,” you moaned, trying your best to curl your finger like you imagined Steve would, “but it would feel better if it was the real thing.” 

“I’m sure it would, honey,” you heard Steve mumble, before hearing the sound of him clearly spitting into the palm of his hand rang loud in your ear, the sound going straight to your core, your arousal coating your fingers and leaking down onto the sheets, “and I’ll give you the real thing, real soon, I promise, but can you do one thing for me?”

Your fingers slowed as your eyebrows pinched together before you stuttered out, “Yes, Steve, I’ll do anything.”

Steve wished you could see the smirk on his face at your response, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his aching cock as his spoke, “Wanna grab that flesh coloured toy I know you keep in your bottom drawer and fuck yourself with it f’me?”

You gasped at his request, your movements all but stopping in their tracks. You wracked your brain as to how he would know what you kept in that drawer but you were all but stumped. The silence on your end of the line had Steve wondering if he’d crossed a line and taken it too far but he couldn’t help himself.

Truth is, he’d seen the silicone length, complete with veins, tucked away when you’d left the drawer open accidentally when you’d excused yourself to the bathroom a month or so ago. And Steve found it simply impossible to get the image of you filling yourself up with the toy out of his mind.

“Is that okay?” Steve asked, bottom lip held firmly between his teeth now. Heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of being rejected. He could hear you moving and rustling at the other end, the anticipation making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His heart was racing, his hands growing clammy. Saliva thick in his mouth as his stomach churned with nerves.

You settled back against your plump pillows with the dildo in hand, holding the phone to your ear once more. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at the toy, “I have it.” you squeaked out, feeling yourself get wetter by the second.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Steve purred, his fist beginning to pump at his cock once more, “now can you suck on it a little? Get it nice and wet f’me, baby.”

You mumbled a little mhm down the phone and Steve could only imagine what you looked like with, could only dream about what you would like with his own cock in your mouth, bright eyes blinking up at him and spit dripping down your chin. Fuck, what Steve wouldn’t give to see that.

You whined down the receiver as your hand was preoccupied, leaving you to only be able to squeeze your thighs together. The sound of you sucking and slurping on the silicone cock made Steve impossibly harder, his cock now aching and throbbing, the tip angry and leaking precum.

Steve’s jaw went slack at the sound of the dildo hitting the back of your throat, gagging on the toy, a string of spit still attached to the thing as you pulled it from your mouth. You breathed heavy down the line as you regained your composure.

“Christ,” Steve groaned, his stomach tensing as he squeezing his eyes shut, “why don’t you stretch out that little hole for me?”

You gulped at his words, teasing yourself with the toy like you usually did. Letting the tip of the dildo brush over your clit a couple times before you pushed the head into your entrance, wincing at the sweet little stretch it created. You moaned loudly once you sunk the toy a quarter of the way in, moving it in and out slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, “can you go a little faster for me? Wanna hear how wet that pretty little pussy is.” 

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned before obeying his wishes, speeding up your movements, fucking the dildo in and out of your cunt faster now. In a deliberate attempt to tease the boy, get him real riled up, you pulled on the phone, stretching the cord until the receiver was closer to the apex of your thighs.

The loud sound of the wet slap of your pussy as you fucked yourself with the toy boomed over the line and Steve reacted as expected. Hand tugging on his cock faster now, his feet firmly planted on his mattress as he bucked his hips up into his hand, his breath getting heavier and his moans getting louder.

You brought the phone back to your ear so you could moan out the boy’s name, “Oh, Steve,” you whimpered, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.

“You’re doing so well, honey, fuck–” Steve groaned, “taking that cock so well, huh? Can’t wait to see you take the real thing, shit, bet that pussy’s just the sweetest little thing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah, Stevie,” you whined, bucking your hips to match the movements of the toy, “wish you were here. Need your cock so bad.”

Steve wasn’t even here and you were already so fucked out, so close to your orgasm, one you knew was going to wipe you out. The sound of his strained voice over the line, his unruly and raspy moans were driving you insane. 

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” he cooed, “you’ll get it real soon, I’ll fuck you real good, nice and deep. I bet that’s how you like it, hm?” 

Once Steve opened his mouth the words wouldn’t stop. There was no going back now, no hiding any feelings, no sparing himself of any embarrassment. The poor boy was drunk on you, drunk on the sweet little whines and whimpers that found their way down the phone receiver. 

“It is, yes, fuck, it is,” you cried, “I need to cum, Steve, please?” You dropped your grip on the toy, your fingers resuming their circles on your clit, your movements becoming faster, “Oh, please can I cum?”

“Fucking hell,” Steve groaned, his own orgasm around the corner, “yeah, go on baby, cum for me.” 

The boy’s words pushed you over the edge, your legs shaking as you writhed on the bed. Your pussy fluttered as you came, moaning Steve’s name down the receiver like a song, the sweetest melody that Steve had ever heard. 

“That’s my good girl, does that feel good?” Steve’s palm was slick with his own spit as it was wrapped tightly around his cock, pumping his fist harder and faster. Steve moaned loudly as you rode out your high, his own climax a stroke of his cock away.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, toes curling into the sheets as he came, painting his stomach with ropes of hot cum. Babbling words of praise and incoherent moans into the phone, followed by heavy breaths.

The line went quiet for a beat, nothing to be heard but the both of you catching your breaths and regaining your composure. Your head became clear now, no longer tipsy, no longer desperate, suddenly realising what had just happened. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you went to speak, before Steve cut you off.

“I think I owe you a real date after that,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “pick you up at 7?”

[aliensupastar]

shouldn’t feel like a crime

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You finally try Carmy’s cooking. Follow-up to “not wrong, but not right”

Part I Part III

Warnings: minor angst, comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food and eating, healing?

A/N: first off, thank you all so much for the love on the first part! i wrote it as a comfort during a difficult time and it was so nice to see people enjoy it. i didn’t intend on writing more for it, but a few people asked for it and i finally got an idea for a follow-up! as a disclaimer, i wrote most of this before season 2 came out and edited it afterwards, but there are no spoilers. gif by emziess <3

Carmy is a good boss. You know this, you’ve known it for months. His sometimes-abrasive idiolect aside, he runs the restaurant like he cares about every brick that built it, every burner the crew uses to make each dish, every ticket that comes through that god-forsaken machine on the expo station. It makes any screaming match easily forgivable, and any nightmare lunch rush endurable. 

What you didn’t know was that Carmy could also be a good friend. Since your stint in the emergency room he’s made good on his agreement with you, without ever being overwhelming. He’s instead mercifully subtle. There’s a few bottles of lemonade kept in the office’s mini-fridge now, for when you get dizzy. He’s lent you that coat of his a few times, when the night air ends up chillier than you predicted that morning, and you’ve left your own jacket at home. And he never fails to give you a look, during the busiest hours at the restaurant, communicating quickly, and quietly: Are you good? And you know if the answer is no, he’ll let you take a breather without a single complaint, but you always respond with a quick nod and push through the rest of the shift.

In turn, you do your best not to worry him. You take vitamins and get better sleep and try to stop pushing yourself to the brink of passing out. You even eat one of your safe foods in front of him, at family while everyone else enjoyed the samosas Ebrahaim had cooked up that day, and for once it felt good to eat; the constant playful bickering and banter a welcome distraction from the usual stress that follows your meals. 

It’s nice. Maybe you don’t necessarily feel like you’re getting better, just more… stable. Less like you’re in a free-fall and more like you’ve got both feet on solid ground. 

When you go to leave after closing up one night and find that it’s raining, impeding you from making your usual trek to the train station, you turn back and head to the office. And a few months ago, you might’ve been too nervous around Carmy to even ask to stay in the restaurant an extra hour, preferring to brave the cold rain and let your clothes get soaked and heavy rather than hang around. You’re relieved, now, to find Carmy right where you left him when you said goodnight just a minute ago, ready to save you from a miserable trip home. 

“What’s up?” He asks when he spots you. 

“It’s raining.” You tell him, nodding your head in the direction of the back door. “Didn’t bring an umbrella. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit, just ‘till it stops?” 

“Yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be here finishing up for a while, anyway,” He says, then continues after a brief pause. “Y’know you really gotta stop relying on that iPhone weather app.”

You scoff, shaking your head at his teasing. 

“You know I’m too lazy to start using another one.”

“I’m just sayin’.” He pushes out of his chair and walks past you, into the kitchen, grabbing a sponge and the container of soap water he uses to clean the countertops. 

“You want help?” You offer, already taking off your coat and tossing it onto the office chair. 

“Nah, you already clocked out. Don’t worry about it.” He replies, not even looking up as he begins to scrub, but you pick up a sponge anyway and get to work on the counter behind him. 

You fall into a comfortable silence for a while after that, only broken by the sound of rough sponges scraping away at the grime and the faint patter of rain on the roof of the building, and part of you wishes you had more opportunities for this. More time spent with him, outside of the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, even if it’s spent cleaning. His presence has become something you’d rather not avoid, even if it makes your heart race; the unique scent of him on the coat you’ve borrowed is becoming familiar, comforting. 

“Glad it wasn’t busy today.” Your train of thought is interrupted by his sudden comment, but you quickly nod. 

“Practically a miracle, for a Friday.” You agree, hearing him chuckle behind you. 

“Didn’t need that shit today, anyways, not while I’m on,” He says. He was working the stovetop today, alongside Sydney, making an efficient team as they churned out dishes quicker than the customers could file in. It made your day a little easier, the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen while you savored the downtime granted by the slow day. 

“I’ve never tried your cooking,” You say offhandedly, but your words make him pause and look back at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Really?” He asks, and you nod. “You’ve worked here for months, though.” 

“I know.” You shrug. 

“How come?” 

That makes you stop scrubbing, turning slightly to look at him. 

“Think you know the answer to that one, chef.” You tease, before continuing to work. He huffs out a laugh, but keeps staring at your back while you scrub. 

“I could make you something.” He finally says, and it makes you truly stop, turning to face him fully. 

“Y’all just cleaned this whole kitchen.” Now it’s his turn to shrug. 

“I don’t mind.” You give him an incredulous look.

“I- If you think I’m gonna help you clean the stove and the plates again, you’re wrong.” Carmy just shakes his head, tossing his sponge back into the container of water and grabbing a few clean pans. 

“C’mon, I can’t have you walking around saying you’ve never tried the food at the restaurant you work at,” He says. “You like spaghetti?”

He’s casual in the way he asks, but you’re still standing by the counter, eyebrows raised in shock. Your mind is starting to race, the way it does every time you’re faced with food, but Carmy’s already pouring olive oil into a saucepan and brandishing his chef knife to chop an onion. 

You approach the stove he’s standing at carefully, like it might just burst into flames, and you can already smell the familiar scent of garlic and olive oil and god, he’s only been at it for a minute and it already smells like heaven in this kitchen. 

“Smell good?” 

“Yeah,” You practically breathe out. “Shit, smells amazing.” 

He smiles at that, a rare thing to see on his face. He’s thoughtful for a moment, before saying:

“This is, uh, Mikey’s recipe, actually.” 

Your eyes widen, a bit taken aback by his mention of his late brother. At least, his mention of Mikey to you. 

You’d learned about what happened to Michael just a few weeks after being hired, after having witnessed the heavy silence that overtook the room when he’d been mentioned, and asking Marcus after work what all that had been about. Since you received your explanation, you’ve tried to mind your own business when the melancholy that came with Michael’s memory returned, giving those who seemed to know him best room to process before getting back to work. 

Carmy’s never talked about Mikey to you directly; no one has. You’re not sure what to say. 

“Mikey, that’s… your brother, right?” You ask hesitantly, even if you already know the answer before Carmy nods. 

“Yeah. He used to run this place, before it was The Bear.” He tells you. 

“Before?” Your confusion and surprise seeps into your tone. “What was it before?”

“Still a restaurant, but, quick service. Italian sandwiches. We weren’t called The Bear, we were-“ He chuckles, caught up in reminiscing. “We were called The Original Beef of Chicagoland.” 

“No shit! This used to be The Beef?” He nods his confirmation and you’re instantly brought back, the memory faded like an old photo that’s been shoved into storage and forgotten. The only thing that wasn’t hard to recall was the sandwich you’d ordered, practically dripping with flavor, the exact kind of comfort food you’d needed that day.

“Been here before?” He asks.

“Yeah, I just- I didn’t recognise it.” You’d sat at a table across from the friend that dragged you to the slightly shabby establishment, silently relishing in the deliciousness of your food before the panic could set in, so enraptured by it you didn’t even care about the booming voice coming from behind a door that presumably led to the kitchen. Not even when the person it belonged to came out to the front and-

“Mikey, was he like, tall? Black hair?” You suddenly ask, gesturing how tall you’d remembered the man being, and now Carmy’s the one that’s confused. 

“Uh, yeah. You- you knew Mikey?” He sounds a little breathless when he asks, but you shake your head. 

“No, but when I came here before, he was still running the place, I guess. And just… loud as shit. Hard to ignore,” You look up and meet Carmy’s eyes. “Hard to forget.” 

You both share a laugh at that, at the memory of his brother that he loved, and that you barely even knew. 

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like him.” The sweet smile stays on his face as he chops and sautées, refusing to let you do more than start boiling the spaghetti for him. All you can do is watch the pasta and watch him as he navigates his brother’s recipe like it’s pure muscle memory. 

As much as you like to steal glances at him during opening prep, you don’t get to see as much of him during service hours. You’re just as busy working front-of-house, keeping people happy and keeping Richie off your ass, as he is while he’s trying to keep up on dishes. You don’t get a ton of chances to see him like this, in his element. He plates the finished spaghetti perfectly, in two bowls, so you know he won’t let you eat alone. 

Still, the anxiety in your stomach rises when you accept the fork Carmy hands you, and you can’t help but pause. He does, too, and you know he easily recognises the cause of your trepidation. 

“What’s up?” He asks, his voice gentle. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the conflict in your mind, but you can’t stop yourself from saying it. 

“Do you… just, maybe have an idea of-“

“I have no clue how many calories are in this.” He answers your question before you can even ask it, and you can’t help but let out a breath of amusement — at yourself, at him for somehow knowing. 

It’s his gentle smile, one that lacks judgment or pity, that pushes you to finally swirl the spaghetti around your fork and take a bite and-

Oh my god. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you during that first bite, ignoring Carmy’s chuckle at your slight dramatics. You can see why he’s hot shit in the restaurant world; the dish barely looked fancy or complicated when he’d made it, certainly not as complicated as anything on the menu, but somehow it tastes better than any pasta you’ve ever had. You would say you’re in disbelief, but you don’t pause long enough to think about anything but this, how amazing every flavor bursting on your tongue is.

Carmy finishes his pasta before you do, but he stands next to you till your bowl is empty, before taking it over to the dish pit and beginning to scrub down all the dishware he’d used. And you stand there for a second, staring at his back, unable to process all the emotion filling you as he washes your bowl. The bowl he let you get dirty, because he wanted you to be able to try his food. 

The utter warmth flooding your senses is almost overwhelming.

Then, despite your earlier protests, you pick up the sponge he abandoned earlier and get to scrubbing the stovetop down again. You ignore the few warm tears that escape your waterline in the process. 

You mindlessly follow Carmy around as he walks through each room, shutting off lights and locking the front entrance and office doors. When you inevitably make your way to the back exit, you push open the door only to find that it’s still raining, worse than it was hours ago. You can only sigh and lean your head against the doorway in defeat. 

“Need a ride?” Carmy offers easily. 

You think back to the frame that sits on the countertop out front, holding a slightly crumpled index card: “I love you, dude. Let it rip.” Words you’ve seen nearly every day since your first on the job; you just now realize they’re probably Michael’s.

It feels like too much. The letting you stick around, the pasta, the… everything. 

You nod anyways, accepting Carmy’s offer, letting him lead you to his car, and he lets you lead the way home.

[nctsplug02]

i also want you to write for mrs suh and johnny (just like mrs jeong and jaehyun) 🥹🥹🥹

Misses Suh? j.suh

GENRE: fluff, smut, dilf and milf parents, halloween night!

WARNINGS: milf and dilf parents, young children are mentioned in this story (several month old-17 year olds), drinking, fluffy scenes, slight angst scene but not really, kissing, flirting, groping, oral sex (M receiving), sexual commenting, car sex, rough sex, riding in the backseat.

WARNING 2.0: chenle being the absolute cutest in the world.

DING DONG!

“trick or treaters already?” you wipe your hands on the ripped paper towel. “it’s only six?” you look away from the oven clock.

you grab the bucket of candy off the dinner table and walk to the front door only to see your husband has beat you to it.

“come on in, leslie!” a girl with her hair in short braids, a metal head brace on, her thick brown boots on, and books in her arms walk in.

“thanks, mister suh!” she comes in and quickly takes off her boots, neatly setting them aside.

“hey leslie, i thought you were a trick or treater!” you hold the big pumpkin bucket on your hip. “misses suh, you look so good!” she squeals.

you giggle and place a hand on your chest. “oh, thank you, honey.”

you and johnny were dressed as the joker and his ROD, harley quinn.

“now are you sure you don’t want to go trick or treating with your friends?” you pick at your nails while johnny joins your side.

johnny hugs your waist. “you can back out, just say the word.” johnny says with a nod.

leslie shakes her head firmly. “no ma’am and no sir. my friends are going with their families and i think i’m old enough to the point where i don’t need to go trick or treating anymore.”

“is that so?” leslie nods with a giggle and a snort ending it. “yes ma’am.”

“well, i’m gonna get my wallet so i can pay you now. just so i don’t forget.” you wink at the fourteen year old before leaving to the kitchen.

“don’t feel so bad, baby.” your husband follows you. “i can’t but help feel that way. i feel like we’re holding her back from living her childhood life.” you frown and unzip your wallet.

johnny bear hugs you, his chin on your shoulder. “she offered to watch our little min jung on halloween so, we aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“leaving a minor home alone with another minor?” you zip up your wallet after grabbing a fresh crisp $100 bill.

“she lives next door and her parents are home.”

you pause and laugh. “you just have an answer for everything, huh?” johnny hums, lightly grazing his red lips on your neck. “maybe.”

“no no, we start at my neighborhood then we start moving to the left.” haechan says coming down the stairs with his friends.

“hi haechan!” haechan flinches and jumps back. “leslie… how the hell did you get inside my house?”

leslie blinks and smiles. “oh, you don’t know? i’m babysitting your brother!” she giggles and ends off with a snort.

“yeah…okay, just don’t go in my room again.” leslie squeezes her books and nods.

a nudge pushes haechan forward. “uh…yeah, excuse us.” the group of boys squeeze past leslie who follows with her head.

“mom! dad! we’re going trick or treating, now!” haechan shouts with his hand on the door handle.

you usher to the front door. “already? it’s only six.” you frown and return with the cash fisted in your hand. “yeah, mom. we wanna go early so we can get the good king size candy bars. we’ll be back before ten, see ya—!”

“nuh-uh, uh, uh.” you shake your head while putting your hands on your hip. “lemme get a quick picture of you boys first.”

the seven of them line up, three of them squatting for the second photo.

“just one more,” you take a few more shots before haechan begins to whine. “no more, mom! we gotta go!” you glare at him and tsk. “donghyuck suh.”

haechan sighs and poses for the picture. “you boys look amazing!” you giggle at their costumes.

haechan as micheal jackson. (didn’t want to comply in the family halloween costume).

mark as spider-man. (with a big hole in the middle of the mask because haechan cut his breathing source too big).

renjun as a fox. (teased for being a furry).

chenle as jigsaw.

jaemin as a male harley quinn. (he refused to wear the booty shorts/skirt).

jeno as the joker.

lastly, the baby of the group; jisung who’s dressed as a white sheet cut out ghost. (he was lied to by the group that they were gonna go as white sheet ghosts).

“looks like we have ourselves some copycats.” johnny says, eating a kitkat. “it was unplanned!” jeno whines with jaemin agreeing.

“uh huh, sure. now, have fun trick or treating and be safe.” the boys who’s are kneeling stand back up and follow haechan who opens the front door and ushers them out.

“haechan,” you call out for the boy who halts and turns back to you. “what time should you be home?”

“ten.” you nod with a hum. “that’s right. any later than ten— i’m eating all your king size candy bars.”

haechan whines and is taken into your arms. “i love you, be safe.” you plant a kiss on his cheek. “you’re getting too tall.”

haechan was four inches taller than you but he still towered over you.

“i love you too, mom. don’t party too much, you’re getting old.” you scoff and shoo him out the house. “be safe, boys! i love you all.” you shout out the door before shutting it.

you turn to see johnny with leslie and the seven month old in her lap.

“looks like someone’s awake from their nap.” you walk over to the group and join johnny on the floor. “hey little mister, you’re gonna stay with our good neighbor, leslie.” you wipe min jungs’ drool off his cheek.

min jung coos and reaches out his arms to you. the three of you aw as you take him into your arms.

“now leslie, dear. i’ve left some instructions on the fridge. i also wrote emergency numbers—including my number and mister suhs.”

leslie nods. “yes ma’am. i’m sure we won’t be needing to use those emergency numbers! i’ve got it all under control. i took several baby classes so i’m pretty sure i know what i’m doing.”

you nod with a sigh. “alright,” you look at your husband who looks back at you. “you ready to head out?” he nods with a frown.

“okay, we’re gonna head out now. did you need anything before we leave?” leslie looks around and shakes her head. “no ma’am.”

“okay then, here he is. we have a whole bunch of snacks for you if you get hungry—and some backup bags of candy for the trick or treaters if we run out. i’m just gonna grab my bag then we’re gonna leave.” leslie nods and takes min jung back into her arms.

johnny stands and helps you up off the ground. “your bag.” he holds your bag up after helping you off the ground. “oh, thank you. i thought i left it in the kitchen.”

“nope.” johnny pats your hip and guides you to the front door where he watches you put on your boots.

“i’m gonna go start the car first so it warms up for you.” you nod and feel your heart flutter, for you.

johnny leaves the moment you finish lacing your boots. you give one more glance to leslie who makes the sleepy seven month old giggle.

“you sure you’ll be okay, leslie?” she looks back with a confused sound. “oh, yeah! we’ll be just fine, won’t we, min jung-ie?” she lifts the chunky boy up and makes him wave.

“okay then. i’ll see you later tonight. but if i don’t make it back before 10, leave baby with haechan.” leslie nods. “okay,” you extend, holding onto the door handle. “i’m going now. goodnight!”

when you shut the front door after you step out, you let out a deep breath.

it was the first time in months since you’d be leaving your son behind with a babysitter. it was always hard when leaving them even for a few minutes.

haechan was the hardest. since he was always attached to you, whenever you had to leave for work he would chase you out to the drive way whenever you tried leaving. some days you’d cave and stay with him until he eventually grew out of it.

you make your way to the car and johnny is standing by the passenger side with his phone to his ear. “—just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. be back by ten and be safe.”

johnny hangs up and smiles when seeing you. “hey puddin’.” johnny opens the passenger side. “hey joker, who was that on the phone?”

“just my brother.” you climb into the passenger side. “mark?” johnny nods, watching you seatbelt yourself on. “i was just telling him that since he’s the oldest, don’t let them screw around too much.”

“it’s halloween and they’re teenagers. let’s just hope we don’t need to bail any of them out of jail tonight.”

johnny laughs. “if anyone’s going to jail tonight, it’s you. you’re too sexy to be walking around like this, baby.” you roll your eyes as johnny shuts the door and jogs to the driver side.

the two of you take off after johnny seatbelts himself in.

“cheers!” you squeal as you clink your long shot glass with the group of girls.

“nononono,” you whine when your shot glass is gently pulled away from you. “that’s too many shots tonight. especially for you since you’re a light weight.”

you pout and cross your arms. “i’m barely drunk! i’m like 2/4ths drunk.” you slur a bit. “sounds drunk to me.”

“please,” you scoff. “i’ve only had two cans and three shots.”

“yeah and those two cans took you an hour and a half to finish them.” johnny sets down the shot glass. “your point?”

johnny puts his hands on his hips—typical dad pose.

“it’s time for us to go home.” you whine and the girls join you. “we were supposed to be home two hours ago but you insisted we stay a few more minutes.”

“it’s halloween, john! loosen up!” taeils wife says while holding up a shot glass to you. “for real, johnny! don’t worry, dude—you’ll make it home in time to fuck your hot wife.”

you giggle with the girls at johnnys face and wrap your arms under his.

“i wanna fuck my hot wife when she isn’t heavily intoxicated.” johnny says, grabbing your ass under your skirt and then moving his hands up to your waist.

you whine once more and push yourself off johnny. “fine,” you fix his purple blazer with a pout. “we can go home since you’re that horny.”

johnny laughs, “sure, baby.”

johnny drags you to the car and buckles you in with reassurance and kisses. he settles himself in and drives off.

“wanna stop at a 7/11 so we can get some snacks for the drive home?” the drive home was approximately 45 minutes, taeil just had to buy a $3M house on the north side.

“mmm no, i have alcohol in my system and we’re driving—and that’s already not a good mix. but, if you want to get something, you can and i can feed you your snack so we don’t get pulled over.”

johnny laughs, slapping his hand on your thigh and rubbing the spot with his thumb after.

“it’s okay, baby. and, you’re right; beer and driving doesn’t mix well. don’t drink and drive.”

you sigh, “i think i can actually go for something to snack on.” johnny chuckles and makes a turn, driving to the nearest 7/11 and grabbing snacks.

“you got tuna kimbap?” you sort through the bag while johnny drives out the parking lot. “i got two.” johnny holds up a quick peace sign.

“mmm and you got some chocolate mochi balls on a stick?! oouuu! you even got some sweet potato chips!” you whine and pull out the treats.

you rip open the packaging of the chocolate mochi balls and you grab a stick. you yank one of the mochis and smack on the soft chewy dough. “want one?”

johnny looks at what you have in your hand and opens his mouth while his eyes stare at the road. “ahhh,” you say while johnny inhales the last two mochi.

“oh,” you stare at the stick. “oh, i’m sorry.” johnny muffles and laughs. “it’s okay, we have two more sticks.” you place the stick back into the packaging.

you grab the bag of sweet potato chips and you rip open the bag. “mmm, these ones are so crisp!” you nod and look in the bag, finding a nice big piece and plopping it in your mouth.

“me too, me too!” johnny says ahh and munches on the stack of potato chips you placed on his tongue.

as you continue to feed your husband, you realize the mess on his lap. “babe, you’re such a messy eater.” you brush away the crumbles.

johnny smirks and grips the steering wheel. “hmm, somebody’s excited.” you giggle and lightly squeeze the outline of his angry bulge. “and what for, hm?”

“i think you know what for.” you look at his phone, the maps app was open and it was directions on how to get home.

twenty minutes until home.

“this tesla can go autopilot, right?” johnny snickers at the way you asked the question. “we just got this car last week, my love. i’m not gonna risk it yet. not just yet.”

“next week?” there’s hope in your voice. “okay, sure, baby. next week.” johnny giggles.

you bite your lip and fiddle with his belt. “sooo,” you tilt your head and tug on his belt. “no autopilot…but, you didn’t say i couldn’t give you head while you drove us home?”

“you’re absolutely right about that, baby.” johnny glances at you and smiles. “you’re so smart.”

you undo johnnys belt and his pants. he lifts his hips a bit to give you some help on removing his jeans.

“i still can’t get over how lucky i am.” johnny scoffs as you press kisses on his tip. “i know, i’m a great catch.”

you fist him with two hands and smear the oozing precum. “and your dick is amazing.” you mumble before wrapping your mouth around his tip.

“oh shit,” johnny sighs and drops his heavy hand on your head.

you whine and push his hand off.

you’re a grown women, you don’t need assistance giving head. in this moment at least. winky face, winky face.

you moan and swirl your tongue around his tip. johnny curses loudly when you fondle his balls.

johnnys long and girthy, he knows he is. he’s proudly acknowledged that his wife chokes and gags on his dick and isn’t ashamed of it. so, when you force yourself down his shaft, tears instantly spring to your eyes.

“baby,” johnny pets your head. “baby, calm down.” you lift your head and use the back of your palm to wipe your lips. “don’t force yourself, it’s okay, baby. take your time.” johnny wipes your tears and kisses your lips.

you grab him by his base and retry but this time taking your time working down his dick.

while you work with johnnys length and girth, johnny notices your pretty ass in the air, swaying left and right. so, he lifts your skirt and gives you a few harsh spanks.

with tears dripping onto johnnys thighs, you still manage to fit his cock halfway down your throat before you’re pushing yourself off and gasping for air.

“good job, baby. you’re doing so good.” johnny wipes your cheeks, smearing your makeup as he does.

“i’m sorry,” you giggle when seeing his dick all messy with your red lipstick all over it and saliva slowly dripping down the sides of it. “i got a little messy.”

you don’t even notice when johnny pulls into the driveway until he puts the car in park.

“i love it when you’re messy. it turns me on so fucking much.” johnny pulls you in for a kiss, it turns heated and sloppy quickly.

“c’mere,” johnny lifts you out from the passenger side and drops you in his lap.

“uh,” you look back at the steering wheel and at johnny. “wanna push your chair back a little? it’s kind of crowded over here.”

you and johnny laugh while johnny pushes his chair back. “butt too big?” johnny pushes you on him and spanks you harshly that a moan fills johnnys ears.

“wanna just move to the back?” johnny suggests when feeling his legs cramp. “that’s a better idea.” you laugh and crawl to the back with johnny following.

you straddle johnny when he’s seated in the middle of the backseat.

“fuck, you sound so sexy.” johnny says while rubbing your ass.

johnny pulls your skirt to the side and rubs your pussy through your thong before pulling that aside as well.

“how’re we feeling tonight? eager or wanna take our time?” johnny asks, rubbing your clit with his fingers.

“eager,” you moan.

“that’s perfect.” you gasp as johnny pushes your hip down so that your cunt swallows him.

it was only the tip and you were already tensing up. “slow?” you nod, body shaking as you attempt to adjust to johnnys size.

even after birthing two human out of your vagina, johnnys size was still hard to adjust to. a lucky women you were.

“fuck,” you softly cry out when johnny bounces your hips.

your hand quickly grabbing his wrist and squeezing it tightly. “you okay, baby?” you nod, holding your breath.

“i just have to adjust—like usual.” you chuckle and slowly drop your hips, letting out a long hiss.

johnny has his hands on your hips, guiding you and reassuring you that you’re fine and that you’re doing amazing.

after settling for a few minutes, you give johnny a kiss and stare him down. “are you ready now?” you nod and giggle.

johnny smacks your ass and lifts your hips, rolling them down and repeating. “you’re so beautiful.” johnny says.

you kiss him and sit yourself up, letting johnny bounce your hips as you undo your top. “fuck,” johnny laughs and rolls his eyes when seeing your breasts drop in his face.

johnnys hands release your hips and attach themselves to your breasts. you giggle at his reaction and begin moving your hips on your own.

you moan loudly when feeling johnny nibble on your left nipple. his thumb rubbing the other in circles and sometimes giving them little pinches and tweaks.

you roll your hips and eager chase for your orgasm. moaning out loud and pulling on your husbands long locks.

johnnys cock being tugged and hugged tightly by your walls. “have i ever told you that i love your tits?”

“our first date.”

johnny laughs and buries his face in your breasts. it was like heaven with billions of the worlds best and most comfortable pillows around him.

“fuck,” you cry out and tighten your walls and thighs.

johnny releases your breasts and hugs your waist, holding you still and fucking himself into you. your little skirt bouncing with his thrusts.

johnnys pretty moans and grunts filling up the car along with your moans as johnny fucks you through your orgasm.

your tight walls clinging onto johnnys dick as he slides into you without any worries or problems. the sound of wet and skin slapping and meeting blend with the sounds of both you and johnnys moans.

johnny was very vocal during sex—praising you for every little thing you did, moaning when he felt the littlest bit of pleasure.

and johnny would tease you for being the loudest, as if.

johnny lets out a broken grunt when slamming his hips once more before freezing and staying still. his hips pushed up into yours while he forces his load inside you.

johnny pants out loud while slowly lowering his hips and holding his fucked out wife, you, to his chest.

sweat melting down his temples and nose, his makeup running with the sweat. your pigtails all messed up and lipstick smeared all over your mouth area.

“oh, puddin’.” johnny sighs with a big grin.

johnny lifts his head. “happy halloween, baby.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs your hips.

“it’s passed halloween,” you mumble and lift your head. “it’s november, baby. that means no nut november.” johnny laughs and shakes his head. “we failed didn’t we?” you nod and kiss his jaw.

after sitting for a few more minutes, just sitting in silence and making out like teenagers in the backseat of your car.

“ready to go inside, baby?” you nod and slide yourself off johnnys lap.

you and johnny clean up a bit before sneaking inside.

“i’m gonna go start us a shower, m’kay?” johnny presses a kiss on your head before tip toeing upstairs.

you go check on min jung who’s sound asleep in his crib with a bottle and haechans favorite stuffed brown bear next to him.

you leave the room and get jump scared by a tall figure. “misses suh?” it’s a soft voice. “chenle? what’s wrong, honey?” you cup the teens face and examine him in the dark.

“i thought i heard something but it was just you, i’m sorry.” you ruffle the sleepy boys hair and guide him to haechans room where everyone is scattered everyone and all asleep.

chenle stops after taking a step into the room. “misses suh?” you hum, holding onto the door handle. “i saved you some candy bars, it’s in the kitchen for you.”

you smile, “thank you, chenle. you’re a sweetheart. now get some rest, i’m sure you’re exhausted from trick or treating.”

chenle nods and joins jisung on the floor and under the sheets.

you shut the door and join johnny, briefly explaining to him about what happened with chenle before going for another round in the shower.

that’s an amazing way to end off halloween.

AN| happy halloween, my loves! i now i’ve been inactive but i’ve been so busy on the outside of tumblr. i love and miss you guys so so much! please be careful trick or treating (if you guys still go because me and sneakylink are planning to go HAHSKSJ). also, be careful at parties! >:c

AAN| i didn’t know whether it was “jen the babysitter” or a

love you guys! 🩷

[thebirdandthebee]

Back to Sleep (18+)

A little something to try to get back into writing - let me know what you think! 18+ only! This is not edited, so please excuse any glaring issues.

Title: Back to Sleep Ain't sorry that I woke ya. WC: 1839

“Baby, you almost done?” Jake asked from the kitchen, where he’s just finished loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. “Come on, let’s be couch potatoes,” he insists.

It’s tempting, it really is, but you’ve got so much work to get done to stay ahead of schedule. Perched at the dining room table, your hair was tossed up in a ponytail as you focused on the laptop ahead. Yes, you were first in your class in your occupational therapy program, but final exams were coming and you were gunning for the number-one spot.

“You go ahead and I’ll meet you,” you said, tipping your head back for your fiancé to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“You’ve been studying like a maniac for weeks,” Jake pointed out, one hand gripping the back of your chair and the other braced on the corner of the dining table, “one night isn’t going to break your streak – exam isn’t for a few weeks, still.”

“I know, I promise, give me thirty minutes,” you insisted, looking up at him through your blue light glasses that you knew he loved.

“Thirty minutes,” he repeated, kissing you again.

But thirty minutes came and went, and you were still staring intently at your computer. Admittedly, Jake got swept up in Thursday Night Football, and at halftime, he shook out of it.

“Excuse me,” he called from over the back of the couch, “Where is my fiancé?” He asked. You peeled your eyes off of your study cards, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“Twenty more minutes!” You called back, tucking your hair behind your ear. But as twenty minutes passed once again, you found Jake dragging your chair back from the table. “Jake, please, I’m on a roll,” you whined. You barely had time to grab up your notecards before Jake lifted you from the chair to bring you over to the sofa.

“You can study from the couch if you must,” he said, only somewhat dramatically.

And that’s how the evening progressed, with you flipping through notes and Jake’s arm firmly around your shoulder as the clock ticked later and later. Soon, you were yawning and focusing more on the back of your eyelids than your flashcards.

“Jake,” you murmured, eyes still shut. “I gotta sleep,” you said, reaching over and patting him on the stomach twice. 

“I’m going to finish the game, be up in a second,” he assured. You dropped another sweet kiss on his lips before making your way upstairs, flashcards in hand. After changing into a pair of Jake’s boxer briefs and a big t-shirt, you crawled into bed, still flipping through your notes.

Jake was surprised to see you still awake when he came up to bed about forty-five minutes later. Leaving the bathroom door open, he quickly showered and brushed his teeth

“Baby, time for bed,” he gently plucked the cards out of your fingers, tossing them onto his nightstand. You groaned quietly but snuggled up to his side instead. You’d been hitting the books hard and it was finally catching up to you. Jake’s warm, vetiver skin lulled you quickly to sleep.

However, much later, during the wee hours of the night, Jake awoke to find your side of the bed empty. His eyes strained in the dark night and if he listened carefully, he could hear the soft clicking of a keyboard.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Jake muttered, wiping at his eyes as he rolled out of bed, lazily pulling his sweatpants up his hips to pull the drawstring tight. He padded down the stairs to see you yet again perched at the dining room table, the chandelier above dimmed to the lowest setting. “What are you doing?” He asked, eyes still adjusting to the light, “it’s almost three in the morning.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to see your fiancé frowning at you in the soft light.

“I know, but I had a dream that I showed up for exam day and couldn’t remember the steps to the malleability scale and I woke up panicking,” you listed off. “I just thought if I could re-arrange some of these class notes into a more visual aid, it would help me remember,” you gestured to the computer, a giant yawn overtaking your face.

“Babe, it’s time for bed,” Jake said, stepping closer. You protectively splayed your hands across your notebook on the table.

“I’m not done,” you said quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Jake reached over closing your laptop.

“You’re done. Bed, now,” he ordered, which gave you a little shiver, but you complied nonetheless – dragging your feet down the hall. Luckily for you, you could turn the brightness down on your phone and run through the study guide your leading MD sent out.

After tucking into bed yet again, Jake rolled over, invading your space.

“Phone,” he said, holding out his empty palm.

“Jake,” you began to protest. He tipped his chin up in a challenge. “I need it for my alarm,” you weakly argued.

“We have an alarm clock and I’ll make sure you’re up,” he reassured as you reluctantly placed your phone in his hand. Jake rolled over, his back to you as he set your phone on the side table before snuggling down into the mattress.

“M’not even tired,” you lied with a petulant tone. Jake rolled his eyes, not that you could see it. You spent the next minute being dramatic, sighing heavily and flipping all around to find a comfortable position.

“Baby, go to sleep,” Jake grumbled. You glared at his back for a moment before flopping on your back, arms crossed over your chest, staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you could remember what the study guide looked like from memory.

A few beats passed.

“I swear to god just you being awake like this is keeping me up,” Jake said with finality, rolling over to face you, a stern expression on his face.

“You could have kept sleeping if you just left me alone at the table,” you pointed out.

“You have to sleep or that pretty little brain aint’ gonna remember shit,” he countered, nearly taunting. With a huff, you turned to face away from him, lying on your hip with one knee bent up.

“M’not even tired,” you mumbled again. Ten seconds later, you jumped when you felt Jake’s full body pressing into you from behind.

“You’re not even tired, huh?” Jake asked, knowing damn well you were just being a brat.

“No,” you grumbled, trying to keep in a squeal as his stubble scraped against your neck.

“You want me to put you to sleep?” He breathed into your ear, big hand landing on your upper thigh, just below where his boxer briefs had ridden up your leg with all your tossing and turning.

“You can’t,” you replied, still feeling put off by Jake confiscating your flashcards.

“Sure I can,” he said, hips shifting so you could feel his soft erection against you.

“Bet I can get you to sleep in twenty minutes,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind your ear.

“Not even tired,” you tried not to gasp as his fingertips slipped below the stretchy band of your borrowed shorts.

“How can you be tired when you’re this wet?” He asked, swiping his fingers through your sex, making you huff.

“You know I like those boxers on you,” you muttered, embarrassed, but at least you were honest. “You’re on the clock, Hangman,” you reminded. Jake gladly cradled your clit between his two fingers, rolling them up and down against your skin. The way you almost avoided his touch by pressing your hips down into the mattress made him grin. Sometimes it was almost too easy. You frowned softly into your pillow as you felt Jake’s hand retreat from your body, but squealed as he quickly dragged the waistband of his boxers all the way down to your ankles.

Jake softly huffed as he pressed his blunt tip against your sex, jaw clenching at the resistance as he sunk in further and further. Turning him further beneath you, your front was pressed down into the mattress.

“How’s that, hmm?” He murmured in your ear. “Gonna listen to me when I tell you to go to sleep, smart girl?” You simply whined gently at the feeling as he filled you. “You hear me?” He asked, knowing he was being haughty.

“Yeah,” you whispered, pushing your hips back against him. Jake reached underneath you, palming your breast in his hand as he continued to fuck you gently down into the mattress. “Jake,” you huffed softly.

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed patronizingly. “Put you right back to sleep tonight,” he snapped his hips, making you jump. His hand traveled down your stomach, the other braced against the bed so he didn’t squish you entirely, to find your clit again, and gently circling it.

You could feel it start to tickle at the soles of your feet – a telltale sign of impending orgasm.

“More,” you murmured, eyes shutting gently both from pleasure and pure exhaustion.

“More?” Jake asked, pulling his hand out from between your body and the mattress, dipping his fingers in his mouth as his hips continued their steady thrusts. Zeroing in on your clit once more, he knew you were getting close – after this long together, he could read you like a book. He didn’t mind, he was close as well. “Going to fill you right up with a sleeping pill,” he didn’t care that he sounded corny, he was putting his money where his mouth was. One more strategic roll of his fingers and you were fluttering around Jake’s cock, toes curled tight at the end of the bed.

“There we go,” Jake grunted, meeting his own orgasm as he pumped into you dutifully. “That’s a good girl,” he exhaled.

You hated it when Jake was right, because now, your eyelids felt like they were being weight down with bags of cement. Whining once more as he withdrew, you jumped when he tapped the head of his spent cock against your clit.

“Wait right here, precious,” he said, pressing a kiss to the round of your hip.

As if you were going anywhere now. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you knew an alarm was set for the morning, because now you simply couldn’t be bothered to lift your head from the pillow.

“Warmed it up for you, baby,” Jake murmured as a warning before a wet washcloth swiped through your folds. “I know, I know,” he hushed. Jake wiped himself down before padding across the room to drop the towel in the laundry hamper.

Crawling back onto the mattress, he threw a blanket over the two of you, double checking his alarm once more before tossing an arm over your waist. Your lashes laid across your cheekbones in pure serenity as you entered deep sleep.

“Thought you weren’t tired, huh?”

[the-oblivious-writer]

After the Storm |One-shot [1]|

Tara Carpenter x Spider-Woman!Reader

One-shot One: Vigilantes & Branzino

Summary: Tara invites you over for dinner in hopes you and Sam could get off on the right foot. But of course, things don't go her way

Warning(s): Swearing, police!Sam, & vigilante slander (?)

Notes: Here's that one-shot I promised and for quick background context the other people at the table during dinner are: Mindy, Chad, Anika and Quinn

Masterlist

“Hi.” You heard out of the blue; you looked up from your book to find Tara looking at you as you took out your headphones.

“Hi,” you replied with a small smile.

“Do you like branzino?” She randomly asked. You furrowed your eyebrows a bit, tilting your head as you looked a little confused. 

“You know, like a fish?” 

“Mhm, no, no,” you let out a small chuckle, “I know. I know,” you shrugged. 

“Well, if you want, you can come to this address at eight o’ clock?” She proposed as she wrote something down on a piece of paper, soon handing it to you. 

“My roommate, Quinn, is making branzino. She’s been testing out these, like, new recipes and stuff and tonight is branzino night so, yeah…that was a lot of unnecessary information, sorry,” Tara let out an embarrassed laugh as you only looked at her with fondness.

“Don’t be, I like hearing your voice,” you told her genuinely, now looking down at the piece of paper. Tara looked away as she felt heat rush to her cheeks. She looked back at you as she wore a bright smile.

“Oh, and it’s apartment twenty sixteen…I didn’t write that part down—I don’t know why I didn’t,” she said, growing a bit flustered. 

“I’ll remember it,” you told her, looking up from the paper and at her.

“Okay…” Suddenly she could hear her name being called from a few feet away. She looked over to see Chad, Mindy and Anika, waving at her. She waved back before looking back at you. 

“I gotta go but, uh, twenty sixteen!” She called out as she walked over to her friends.

You responded by tapping your temple with your index finger, looking at her for a couple more seconds before you continued reading. 

—

Tara was sitting on her bed, looking at her laptop when she heard soft knocks on her window. She looks up from her laptop to find you on her fire escape. A smile grazes her face as she puts down her laptop and goes to her window to open it. 

“Hi,” she greeted after sliding the window up. You reply with a loving grin and Tara can’t help but giggle. “How did you get out there?”

“Uh, fire escape. Your doorman’s intimidating,” you responded as you came inside the room.

“It’s twenty stories.” 

You looked at her for a couple seconds before saying, “Yeah..”

You were now fully in her room, standing in front of her. You looked around and wore a smile; the room felt like Tara. “So this is your room?”

“Yes, this is my room,” Tara answered, looking at you as your eyes wandered the room.

“Of course…it’s yours,” you add, pulling a laugh from the younger Carpenter.

“Oh hey, uh, I got your sister, uh, these,” you told her as you took off your backpack and took out a bouquet of flowers. Well…if they even still qualify as such.

Tara saw you take out the damaged bouquet; the flowers were bent, each one going in different directions, and pedals were clearly missing. But you somehow still made them beautiful to her.

“Oh—oh lovely.”

“Yeah, they’re beautiful right?”

“They’re beautiful.”

“They—they were nice,” you spoke before raising the bouquet to cover your face in a poor attempt to hide the embarrassed smile you wore.

“No, they’re beautiful,” she said as she looked at your embarrassed state.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized under the flowers. 

“No, it’s impressive. They actually held together very well,” Tara nodded as she spoke, trying not to laugh any more. 

“I’m gonna keep these…” Tara let out a short laugh, giving you a smile that you’ve grown to admire so much.

As you put the flowers back in your back, you heard Tara speak again. “Do you have your suit?” She asked, catching you off guard. Suit? Did she see it?

You instantly lift your head up, looking at her. “My suit?”

“It’s for dinner… Are—are you gonna wear that? A dress is fine too—” Just then the door opens and Sam's voice could be heard.

“Hey, Tar,” Sam's expression changes when her eyes meet you, clearly not expecting you to be in Tara’s room. Tara’s eyes go wide and your mouth is slightly open as you both look at the police captain. 

She makes a couple steps forward before finally saying, “You must be Y/N.”

“Sam, this is Y/N.” Tara looks over at you, silently begging you to say something.

You hesitantly look at Tara then back at Sam, not sure if you’re reading the singles right. “Hey, nice to meet you ma’am,” you finally said as you walked over to Sam with your hand raised. 

“Nice to meet you,” Sam responded as she shook your hand, voice lacking enthusiasm. You ignored the look she gave, only responding with a short yet soft smile.

“Dinner’s ready,” the police captain informed, “hope you like branzino.”

“Who doesn’t?”

—

You awkwardly poke at the fish with your knife, not really sure where you were even supposed to be cutting; how the hell were you supposed to do this? 

Anika looked over at you as you struggled to figure it out. “You're having trouble there, aren’t you; the head goes on the other—Chad, help Tara’s friend with her fish,” she said, causing you to grow even shyer. 

“Oh, I uh, I have no idea” you awkwardly chuckle, putting a timid on your chest.

“First time,” Chad said with a single nod as he began to cut your fish.

“Branzino,” you heard Tara whisper at you from across the table

“Hey, Sam, did you catch that spider chick yet?” Mindy inquired, you slowly lifted your gaze and averted it to the police captain who sat by you.

“No, we haven't caught her yet. But we will. She’s an amature who’s assaulting civilians in the dead of night, she’s clumsy, she leaves clues, but still dangerous.” After you swallow the bite you took of your fish, you look at her deep in thought.

“She’s assaulting—she’s assaulting people,” you say, as if absolutely stunned by the accusation—in a way you were. 

Sam slightly furrowed her eyebrows at you but before she could get a word out, you continued. “I mean, I saw that video,” you do a slight nod, “with—with her and the car thief.” Tara watched as she knew what was about to unfold, taking a deep breath in and out.

“And—and I think most people would say she was…providing a public service.”

“Most people would be wrong,” Sam responded with certainty in her voice, “If I wanted the car thief off the street, he’d already be off the street.” 

“So why wasn’t he then?” You asked, coming off as more of a smart ass than intended. Tara let out an awkward laugh as she felt the tension thicken with your response. 

“Let me illuminate, you see, the car thief was leading us to the people who run the entire operation. It's been a six month long sting. It’s called strategy—I’m sure you’re aware of the term strategy? You’ve probably heard about that in school?” 

You nodded along to the police captain’s words before answering with a quiet, “Yeah.”

Tara looked over at Quinn with a look that read “You’re kidding me, right?” Quinn tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“Well, obviously she didn’t know you had a plan,” you suddenly add before taking another bite of the branzino.

“You seem to know an awful lot about this case; you know something we don’t know? I mean, whose side are you on here?” Sam’s voice slightly raised as she spoke. 

“No, I’m not on anyone’s side; I saw a video on the internet–”

“Oh, you saw a video on the internet. Well, then the case is closed.”

Tara ran her hands down her face as Chad and Mindy watched with amused expressions.

“Well, no I’m just sayin’ that if you watch the video—maybe I can send you a link. It looks like—it looks like,” Sam slightly raised her hand to you, not wanting to hear anymore of this. “She’s really trying to help you.”

“Yeah, sure on the internet she must be made to look like some sort of masked hero or something.”

“No, no, no, I’m not saying she’s a hero, I don’t think she’s a hero at all–”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying she’s tryna’ help, but it looks like she’s trying to do something maybe the police can’t.”

“Something the police can’t?” Sam’s expression somehow grew even more frustrated.

“I don’t know.” You responded, hiding behind bites of your branzino.

“What do you think we do all day? You think we just sit around, eating donuts, with our thumbs planted firmly up our asses?”

“Sammy,” Tara sighed, putting down her utensils. Quinn gave Sam an unimpressed look as she said, “Sam,” in a firm tone. 

“Up your what, Sam?” Mindy asked, earning her a light slap to the shoulder from Anika as Chad did a terrible job of containing his laughter.

“I think she stands for what you stand for, ma’am,” you finally say. “Protecting innocent people from bad guys.”

“I stand for law and order, kid. That’s what I stand for, okay? I wear a badge; this chick wears a mask like a—like an outlaw. She’s hunting down a bunch of criminals that all look the same, like she’s got some personal vendetta. But she’s not protecting innocent people, Ms. Y/L/N.” Sam’s words came crashing down with each one she spoke.

Suddenly, Tara puts her fork back down and pushes her chair back to stand up. “Let's get some air, Y/N.” You mentally curse yourself for screwing up dinner.

“Sam, we need to talk.”

“Yes we do,” Sam replied before taking a sip from her glass.

“Thank you for having me. I’m sorry if I insulted you—it was not my intention,” you apologized before getting up from your seat.

“You're welcome.” Sam replied before harshly placing down her cup.  

“The branzino was really good, thank you,” you complimented, earning a smile from Quinn. “You're welcome,” you heard Quinn say as you walked away from the table, following Tara to wherever she was leading you.

—

Your hands were in your pocket as you followed Tara closer out on the roof. “Well that was something,” Tara finally spoke, earning a timid chuckle from you. 

“Sorry…you know I thought she was gonna arrest me at one point?” You both looked over the edge, looking at the city streets below you.

“Nah, I wouldn’t let her arrest you.”

You quietly sigh, leaning forward and resting your forehead. Tara looks at you, thinking to herself before asking, “What happened to your face?”

“I wanna tell you something,” you immediately reply.

“Oh,” Tara lightly laughed. “Okay.”

You both turned and faced each other, now getting to admire the other’s eyes. You exhaled, struggling to muster the right words to tell her. How do you tell the woman of your dreams you’re Spider-Woman?

“I’ve been bitten.”

Tara couldn’t help the love struck smile that grew on her face as she softly responded, “So have I…”

Once you realized what she meant you let out a light, “Oh,” and smiled. She slowly leaned closer and you did the same but stopped yourself once you remembered what you were doing. 

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay—I gotta tell this one thing, I gotta tell this one thing, I gotta tell you this one thing, and it’s about the—the vigilante and the car thief, alright?” Tara’s expression turned to disappointment; the conversation wasn’t exactly what she had hoped it would be.

“Oh, okay,” Tara backed away a bit.

You slightly furrowed your eyebrows at her. “No, no, no, no, no,” you repeatedly said as you shook your head and waved your hand. “No, no, don’t–”

“Okay.”

“Okay, no. Forget that. I’m not gonna talk about that. I’m gonna talk about me, okay?”

“What about you?”

“It’s… I wish I could just,” you gestured to your mouth with your hands, “I can’t. It’s hard to say.”

“Just say it,” Tara said, giving you a comforting look. 

“No, no, no, no…” You turned over, leaning to look over the edge.

“Just say it…”

You only responded with a deep exhale, not being able to spit out the words.

“What?” Tara leaned over to you, and you turned your head to look at her before shaking your head and turning back. 

Tara lightly rolled her eyes, “Nothing, forget it,” she let out defeatedly as she began to walk away. 

In a split second decision, you impulsively shot a web at Tara and pulled her back to you. She landed in your arms, holding onto them as one hand held onto her waist and the other reached up to her neck. 

She looked at you with a stunned expression but before she could get a word out, you softly pulled her in by the back of her neck and your lips made contact. Your other hand reaches up from her waist to cup her jaw. You both melted into the kiss as it grew deeper and deeper with each second. 

You both pulled away to catch your breath. “You’re–” 

“Shut. Up.” You interrupted before pulling her back into the kiss. 

Tara smiled into that kiss and held onto your collar, pulling you in as close as she could. Your hands moved down to her waist as her other hand moved to wrap around your neck, pulling you in more.

“Tara?” Somebody called out, but you both were too distracted to notice.

“Tara–” You both finally heard, pulling away as Mindy stood at the rooftop door.

“Uh, Sam wants you to come inside—right away.”

“Okay…”

Mindy looked over at Tara when she realized she hadn’t moved at all, “Tara, come on. You can make out later.”

Tara rolled her eyes as she felt her cheeks heat up. “I’m coming,” Tara sighed, moving away from the rooftop’s ledge as Mindy went back inside. 

Tara and you shared a single look before she let out a laugh of disbelief, clearly not expecting this to be the night she finds out you’re Spider-Woman—or any night for that matter. 

You start to follow her when suddenly your senses go off, causing you to turn to your right and look out at the city. A city that needs you.

Tara stopped and turned when she realized you were no longer following her. She saw you looking out at the city as police sirens rang. You took a few steps as your eyes never pulled away from ahead of you. Then suddenly, you jumped off the roof as if it were nothing. 

Tara lightly shook her head as she watched this.

“Oh, I’m in trouble…”

-----------

A/N: The way I genuinely laughed when Pete said he'd send Captain Stacy a link 😭

[gleefullypolin]

Stacy's Tipsy Musing's - Colin Bridgerton Hot Takes - Part 4

Ok boys and girls, we need to have a little chat about Colin Bridgerton.

Part 2 has been out now for a couple of days and there have been a lot of hot takes to come out of the season. A LOT of hot takes. I’m going to break this down into 4 parts. 4 questions that I'm seeing really bad hot takes about Colin.

Now none of this is new, I gotta say before Season 3 aired Colin was a hot button topic anyway. He seemed to be the Bridgerton brother that lots of people love to spew hate takes on anyway. But damn I gotta say its painful seeing the Polin fandom have so many bad takes falling from their lips.

So, I figured...having a little drink tonight, sitting down for Father’s Day (Happy Father’s Day, Colin) I’d give you the opinion on some of these takes that you didn’t ask for...Mine!

Last time we talked about Colin’s entrapment statement to Pen and if he truly meant it.  Question 1, Question 2, Question 3, now lets get to Question 4:

How could Colin refuse to listen to Pen and just jump in to fix the situation with Cressida?

Colin “Hero Complex” Bridgerton to the rescue! This one is the easiest to answer because it has been coded throughout all 3 seasons to his character.

Season 1: Needed to save Marina from ruin. Even after finding out that she lied to him, tricked him, was pregnant with another man’s child, he STILL would have married her if she had told him she loved him. Like the boy had hero written on his chest and wanted to rip his shirt and fly into the sky to save her. He was the star of his own action story until it all came crashing to the ground the moment the damsel told him she didn’t love him. She thought him a foolish child.

Season 2: We have a couple of hero moments in season 2. He’s still stuck on there being a chance at redeeming himself at saving Marina, visiting her to see if she is happy, if there is anything he could have done differently for her. And once again he is told to stop living in a fairytale. The damsel is not in distress.

Our second hero moment comes in Jack Featherington. This time he gets to be the hero; he saves the ladies Featherington from his schemes. He proves him to be a fraud and runs him out of town. He has no idea that Portia is actually in on the scheme or that it has put the Featherington house into its own ruin at this point, but he rushes in to save the day without thinking ahead of anything else. Damsels in distress, Colin to the rescue.

Season 3: Ok, Pen needs to find a husband, Colin to the rescue. Balloon in Pen's path, Colin to the rescue. Pen is in danger, the Queen has advanced on her, and now Cressida is threatening. Colin does not even hear Pen the moment she speaks, all he hears is danger and he begins to act. His wife is in danger, and he will protect her. Hero mode activated. Again, Colin does not think ahead, he only thinks that his purpose is to protect. So he does not stop to listen to reason, he doesn’t hear Pen’s words or even sense, he just takes action.

The action at hand was apparently to go have a therapy session with Cressida Cowper, because that is what he did. A passionate plea with a woman who had no empathy. It was one of the best scenes however, because it was interesting to me that Colin was unable to tell Pen how he was feeling, but he opened up to Cressida and spilled his thoughts. Why? Because he did not care about her judgement, he did not care about her feelings toward him.

He admitted to feeling loss when Pen did not respond to his letters, he admitted to becoming a fraud, a shell, a person who closed himself off to feelings because he lost the person who opened him up to that piece of himself. He spoke of Pen’s treatment, he also tried to separate her once again from Lady Whistledown as if Pen was simply working for the woman and not actually the person holding the quill.

But Cressida was quick to pass her judgment, she clocked his jealousy immediately. He tried to appeal to her about love, family, fairness, and loneliness. Things he incorrectly assumed she would understand, but Colin, just like Eloise, is a sheltered Bridgerton’s who do not always understand how lucky they are, and he misjudged her reaction.

And our hero returned defeated by our villain. He faced the consequences of rushing in without listening to his wife. She thanked him for his counsel and his heart sank. Once again, the damsel did not need him. Once again, his purpose was gone.

It is only when she tells him she does not need him to be her hero, she simply needs him by her side that he understands his purpose. He doesn’t need to rush in to be her hero. He simply needs to love her. Sometimes the damsel saves herself. Colin truly is that wonderful romance hero I dream of.

Stick around for a bonus question....

I can’t believe Colin was going to just take 20,000 pounds from the Bridgerton funds, he doesn’t even have a job to take money from the family?