#i've tried to make things happen i've tried to change everything i've tried to talk to my parents but nothing gets through to them

[city-tickles]

Two Tickle Sessions In One Day!

Hi!

It's been a while but I hope you are doing well. I am still on break from posting clips or requests but I wanted to let you know about my recent sessions.

A month ago I was in one of those bad tickle moods. One of those moods where it was all you could think about and the rush of getting tickled or tickling someone was intense. I don't get these moods often and usually when I do, I don't like it because the last couple of times that has happened, I've received bad news about someone I care about, so it also makes me a little anxious when I get that way. Thankfully, it did not happen this time.

I needed to get the mood out but there was no one in the area to session with. Since no one was available, I decided to check out two parties that I have not been to in years. One M/M party and one Female Foot Party.

When it comes to M/M, I am 100% lee and it is something that does not give me much if any arousal. It's just tickling, and I can appreciate it. I'm sure I'd appreciate it more if it could "get me there" but I've seen enough clips and done sessions, and it usually doesn't. I also rarely do M/M because I have to be in a mood for it. This time, I was in a big mood for it, so I decided to go.

I've spoken about the M/M party in the past. Last time I went about 8 years ago, I just wasn't comfortable or ready to be there and it seemed like the owner took umbrage with that when I tried to leave. I figured a lot of time has passed and I have gained more experience, so hopefully things would be fine. I explain why I wanted to go to the party, and I was allowed to go.

I entered the party, and as a cis-identifying male, it's a little overwhelming at first. Action (Everyone is clothed) is everywhere right in front of you, but everyone is also very nice and doing their thing. I like to give people space, but there was no space to go, so I was just watching everything go down lol.

While waiting, I was introduced to a guy, who had grey hair and , who was also into tickling and we began talking. At first, the convo was small talk, but then we realized we knew each other from a previous meeting, which made things easier. After some talking, he asked what I was here for and when it comes to males, I am strictly a lee, so I told him I wanted to be tickled. Luckily, a massage table opened up and was cleaned off and ready to be used. We asked the table owner, who was a tall, slender man with grey hair and facial hair, if we could use it. Lucky or not lucky for me, we were allowed but the table owner was also into tickling. They asked me if he could join in and I figured why not?

I laid on the table and decided not to be bound because sometimes I stay still anyway. And before I know it, I have two lers all over me, testing out my spots and trying to find where I am most ticklish. They would glide their fingers all over my sides, under my arms, my tummy, my thighs and of course, my feet while I laughed and didn't move around too much. It was extra sensitive because 1. With the massage chair, I'm mostly looking upwards and can only see the ceiling. And 2. I'm getting teasing from all angles! The two very skilled lers keep saying things like, "Oh, he's real ticklish!" "I think he likes it!" While others at the party are watching and saying things like, "I think he doesn't want it to stop" and "He's having a lot of fun now"

With two lers on me, I never had time to have one spot make me off the wall ticklish because it was always changing. Sometimes it was their fingers lightly tickling my stomach that was the most intense. Other times, it was harder touches on my feet by one of the lers. Sometimes it was an attack under my arms. There were a lot of different moments during the 20-30 minutes of tickling that just kept making me laugh hysterically. I do know at one point, a hairbrush was used because I felt it and that always felt more surprising than ticklish. The other interesting part about having two lers on your feet were both styles were different. One was lighter and the other was harder, but both were effective!

(I couldn't find a MM/M gif)

After my time was done, I thanked them for the session and decided to wrap up since the party was coming to an end anyway. It was time to go to the next party.

This party, which I also had low hopes for, runs all the time in NYC and it is pay-to-play. I was that down bad, that I was willing to do it this evening lol. I went in with very low expectations and the reminder that if the first few moments are bad, I can just leave.

When I got there, it took forever for them to let me in, which already set my expectations to low. Despite this, I walked in and heard laughter already. Someone was getting tickled under the sheets, so I knew I wasn't the only tickler in the area. The girls that I saw in there were nice and chill to talk to for the most part. Some were more personable, while others just wanted to make their money, which I am not upset about. They're not there to be my friend.

The first lee was a tiny girl with red hair, and was ticklish but not that reactionary. I don't think she was ticklish on her feet at all, but I would always ask if it's okay to tickle elsewhere. Thankfully it was, and her upperbody, especially her arms, were her weakspot. She did not seem into it in the slightest, so I tried not to overdo it.

The second lee was this tall, black girl, with long hair and very nice to talk to. She wasn't sure how ticklish she could be, so I would tested some of her spots. Her feet were tolerable, her knees were very sensitive, and under her arms, she was almost unable to do!

I brought some tools that I didn't bring out at the M/M party (my bag at that party was all the way on the other side I just didn't want to bother with it) I ran an ostrich feather up and down her soles and her legs, which felt more relaxing to her. Then, I brought out TicklingDuck's device vibrating device.

As the device touched her soles, she would laugh hard, squirm around, cover her mouth, and was genuinely shocked at something being so ticklish on her. I asked if I could use the device on her knees and she went "Oh no!" and let me do it anyway, which I didn't do for long because she couldn't handle it.

The third lee was another redhead, who was also a nice person to talk to and wearing boots and long socks. I tickled her through the socks first, which made her giggle a bit, before taking them off and scribbling on her toes and soles so more. Her feet were also moderately ticklish, so I asked if I could tickle other parts of her body. Her weakspot was the ribcage and made any other spot look like a 1 compared to them! I spent most of my time on her feet since the ribcage was so intense, but we did play a few games. I would tell her if she could let me tickle there for 10 seconds, she would get a reward, which would be a foot massage or other foot worship. She agreed and barely opened up her arms until I scribbled in there and teased her further, saying "You gotta let me get in there or I'm gonna increase the time" She opened up her ribs and it was the longest 10 seconds of her life. Afterwards, I would congratulate her for making it through and doing such a good job.

After we were finished, I was ready to go since I had an obligation to get to later in the evening, but another taller woman approached me and asked me if I like tickling. She mentioned that she liked tickling to and wanted to know if I wanted to session. I was skeptical at first, because it felt like a money-grab, but I figured I'm already here so why not?

Best decision I made at that party. I started by spider tickling all the way up from her feet to legs, to her sides, across her tummy, back to her ribs, and of course under her arms. This woman was genuinely ticklish everywhere and was a lot of fun to play with. I would caress her thighs and tease like I'm about to tickle there, only to sneak attack and tickle her tummy. I brought out the TicklingDuck device again and we played another counting game to see how long she could last without moving, and I made sure to count the longest 30 seconds I could, running my fingers all across her tummy and under hear arms while she laughed her head off underneath the covers. The last thing I did to her, was bring out the pair of stocks that just arrived. I was itching to try them on someone and she was so excited to see stocks. We locked her bare feet and the stocks and I ran my fingers all across her soles and under her toes, while she was unable to get away or pull them out. While these sessions lasted 10 minutes, this one was definitely longer and we both knew it. After she was done, she complimented my ler skills, saying most male lers are rough, but I was very gentle with her, but also devastating, which I took as a big compliment.

Before I left, I had one request for her. I had a hard time locking the stocks on myself at my home, but when I did, they were not very comfortable. I asked if she could test the stocks out on me to see how good they were. She obliged and got my feet in the stocks. Once I was locked in, she began running her nails across my soles, which was one of the more intense tickles I got all night! I laughed hard and and was unable to do anything else, my feet were trapped and that definitely made the tickling worse! She would tease me and say things like "Aww! Is someone ticklish?" And "Now who's ticklish" until I had to stop her because I really had to get going. I thanked her for the fun time and planned to come back in the future.

Overall, it was a great day of tickles and satisfied my ler and lee moods!

[mooodyblue]

hi im venting in the tags don't mind me 🙃

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[smileysuh]

comfort cuisine

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

Prologue

“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”

“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”

“It’s not-”

“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”

The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.

Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.

You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen. 

You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained. 

Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-

“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”

“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”

“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”

Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”

You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

One

Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.

On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her. 

“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.

Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”

“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head.  “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”

“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.

“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”

Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’

When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-

“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.

“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”

“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes. 

“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”

“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”

Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments. 

Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.

“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”

“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”

“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.

“Speaking of-”

“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.

“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”

“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.

“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”

“That’s a great idea!”

“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”

He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant. 

When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”

“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”

“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”

“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”

“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes. 

“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”

“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”

The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had. 

“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down. 

“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.

“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”

Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.

“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”

“Hey!” Johnny laughs.

“I’ll consider it,” you grin.

“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”

“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.

“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”

There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line. 

“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”

And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.

Two

You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early. 

Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.

Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”

“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”

“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“That bad, huh?” he asks.

“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan. 

“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”

“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.

“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”

You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies. 

“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.

“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”

“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”

You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green. 

You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.

He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.

“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”

“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”

“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”

“A hundred percent.” 

“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”

“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”

“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”

“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”

“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.

“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.

“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.

“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods. 

“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”

“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.” 

“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.

Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”

Three

Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter. 

He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.

“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”

“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter. 

“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.

The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite. 

The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.

But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.

“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”

“Like what?”

“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”

“That could work,” Johnny nods. 

“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask. 

Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.

You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.

In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.

“What about oats?” you suggest. 

“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.

Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.

“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”

“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.

As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings- 

“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”

“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”

Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”

“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin. 

Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.

But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.

Four

“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.

“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”

“Shoot.”

“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”

“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”

“Really? You sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”

A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.

Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.

While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.

She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.

When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.

Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.

“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”

He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”

You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”

“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”

“Can y/n stay longer?”

Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”

“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”

“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.

Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands. 

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

Five

It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different. 

What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.

“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”

“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”

“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl. 

“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”

Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment. 

“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.

“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”

Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”

“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”

Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”

“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.

“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”

“What made you finally give it a try?”

“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”

“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”

“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”

Six

Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy. 

Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.

While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance. 

Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.

As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture. 

In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.

The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.

On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her. 

Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud. 

As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.

Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.

You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.

Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.

Seven

Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.

“Hey, you,” you answer.

“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”

There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”

“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”

“Not so hot actually.”

Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”

“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”

“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”

“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”

Eight

“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”

You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”

“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.

“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.

“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.

“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.” 

“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.

His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles. 

“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.

“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”

“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”

“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”

“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.

You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”

Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”

“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”

“I think I love you.”

“Huh?” you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”

“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”

“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”

“Doyoung, for one.”

“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”

“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”

“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”

“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”

“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”

“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”

“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.

“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.” 

His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.

“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”

Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.

His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.

His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.

“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.

“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.

“You’re drunk,” you say finally.

“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”

“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”

“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.

“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”

Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”

“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”

“You’re right,” Johnny concedes. 

“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”

“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.

“Uh huh.”

“Will you stay in my bed with me?”

“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”

Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”

Nine

Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-

He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.

After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.

Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.

It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.

“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.

God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.

“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.

“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.

“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.” 

Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”

“Good!” 

You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.  

“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”

“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”

“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”

“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.

“When’s Soonie come home?”

Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”

“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”

“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”

You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.

“How are you feeling about last night?” Johnny asks.

“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”

“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own. 

God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Take me out on a date,” you say.

“Hmm?”

“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”

“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”

Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you. 

Ten

It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.

He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.

When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”

“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins. 

“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”

“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”

“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”

Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.

The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.

“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.

“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs. 

“Look at you being all cocky.”

“You love it.”

He’s so right.

The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.

Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?” 

Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.

“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”

You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?” 

“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”

Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it. 

Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.

It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.

You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.

Johnny releases a sleepy groan.

You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Hi,” you respond lightly.

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”

Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.

“More than okay with it.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.

His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.

You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.

“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.

“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.

Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.

His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.

Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.

You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes. 

Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.

Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.

His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him. 

You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. 

Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more. 

Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh. 

He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.

“You’re already so wet,” he muses.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.

“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.

Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”

“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?

He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion. 

It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?

Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.

Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”

Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.

Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you. 

“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.

Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.

“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”

“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”

“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.

Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”

A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.

“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.

From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.

It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.

Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”

You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.

“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.” 

Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.

You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.

The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.

Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.

Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.

You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”

“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”

“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.

You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp. 

He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”

As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.

Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.

“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”

“If you say so, honey.”

The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.

Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.

Although, would this be called fucking?

The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.

“Johnny?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”

“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”

Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock. 

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.

“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.” 

Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.

“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”

“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”

“Where should I cum?”

“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”

He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.

You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.

“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”

“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.

“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.

You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-

“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”

Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.

Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.

The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.

You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close. 

“I love you,” he tells you again.

You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”

Epilogue

The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.

“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.

Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.

He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.

“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.

“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.

“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”

“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.

Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.

“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.

“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.

“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”

“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.

“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”

Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?

Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.

“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)

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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.

It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.

Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.

“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.

“Customers?” you suggest.

“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.

“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.

He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.

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[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt5) | Leah Williamson

You and Leah finally have a chat about feelings note: I have one more part to add to this series,, we need to find out what happens at Wimbledon, right? warnings: fluff and slow burn, a bit suggestive(?) nothing really pt1 pt6 my masterlist

"Hi, I stopped by to buy—" Lia was cut off when she saw Leah at the door, her face completely red and her eyes wide with panic. "Are you okay?" she asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

"I almost kissed her," Leah blurted out, still gripping the door handle.

"What? Who?" Lia looked around and lowered her voice. "There's a girl here?"

"Lia, oh my goodness, I kissed her," Leah said, trying to gather her thoughts. "I actually kissed her."

"Leah, what the hell are you talking about?" Lia asked, still whispering. "Who did you kiss?"

"Y/n… she— I kissed her, but it was just a peck," Leah tried to explain, covering her face with her hands.

"So what, she left after you kissed her?" Lia asked, trying to make sense of it all.

"No, she—" Leah's eyes suddenly widened as she remembered. She pushed Lia aside and rushed to the backyard. You were still there, now standing up and looking confused. Leah panicked. "I shouldn't have done that," she muttered, pacing back and forth.

"Wait, hang on a second," Lia said, still trying to catch up. "You kissed a girl."

"I wouldn't even call it a kiss," Leah said, frustration in her voice.

"And you like her."

"Yeah, but she has a lot going on right now. This would just mess things up for her and her career and I—"

"Wait, who is Y/n?" Lia interrupted, trying to piece everything together.

"Y/n is the girl I kissed. She's the tennis player, the one we watched last time, do you remember? This is the last thing she needs right now," Leah said, sounding regretful.

Lia sighed, taking it all in. "Okay, chill out. I need more information… Does she know how you feel?"

Leah stopped pacing and looked at Lia, a mix of hope and fear in her eyes. "I don't know. I don't think so. But now I've probably screwed everything up."

"Alright," Lia said, taking a deep breath. "You need to talk to her."

While that conversation was going on inside, you took the time to gather your courage and confront whatever was happening between you and Leah. She had kissed you, or at least attempted to, and you weren't going to let her run away from this. Drama like this was the last thing you needed.

With determination, you walked towards the house and stepped inside, finding Leah with her hands on her hips and Lia Walti standing a few feet away.

When you first met Leah and saw how close she and Lia were through pictures, it sparked a twinge of jealousy. Now, seeing Lia here, seemingly responsible for Leah's sudden departure upon hearing the doorbell, that jealousy flared into anger. Deep down, you knew Lia wasn't to blame, but the frustration bubbled up nonetheless.

"Y/n," Leah said, holding your gaze for just a moment before looking away.

"Leah," you replied seriously, feeling frustrated that the moment had been interrupted, knowing it could have ended so much better. Part of you wanted to scream at Leah, but another part just wanted to pull her close and kiss her.

"Hey, I'm Lia," Lia interjected, smiling as she reached out to shake your hand.

You glanced at Lia's hand with a slight frown, then looked over at Leah, who noticed the change in your expression. "It's nice to meet you," Lia said, trying to maintain a friendly tone.

"Hmm," was all you added, nodding your head as you took Lia's hand, giving it a firm and deliberately prolonged squeeze. 

Lia immediately caught on to the meaning behind your reaction.

"I'm Leah's teammate. We've been friends for years," Lia said, subtly trying to dispel any misinterpretations. "I understand you're a tennis player, right? I remember watching one of your matches with Leah."

"Yeah, ranked 4th in the world," you said, a touch of arrogance in your smile. You knew you'd slipped a spot in the rankings recently, but that wasn't something Lia needed to know. Jealousy had twisted Lia's innocent words into a perceived threat, which clearly wasn't the case.

Leah watched the interaction between the two of you with discomfort, so she decided to break the silence.

"Uh, I'd forgotten I invited Lia to dinner today," Leah said, her voice tinged with nervousness as she grabbed her car keys from the table. She glanced at Lia and then at you. "I can drop you off at your hotel if you want, or I can order an Uber, whichever is more convenient for you," she offered, fidgeting with the keys avoiding your eyes.

Lia suppressed an urge to intervene, Leah was only making things worse. She widened her eyes in surprise and then looked down, feeling the tension rise.

"Do I have to go?" you asked, pointing at yourself, visibly taken aback.

"Oh— I mean, I wasn't sure if you wanted to stay," Leah stumbled over her words, glancing at Lia for help.

"Don't worry," you replied firmly. "I'll go change and then get an Uber," you continued, remembering how Leah had lent you some clothes after breakfast to make you feel more comfortable. "I can't let you leave your guest here alone; that would be rude," you added, almost mumbling as you headed towards the guest room.

Leah just stared as you walked away without saying anything.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Lia hissed, giving Leah a light slap on the back of her head.

"What are you talking about?" Leah asked, rubbing her head where Lia had hit her.

"How could you even think about kicking her out of your house?" Lia questioned, furrowing her brow in frustration.

"I just didn't want things to get awkward. She seemed a bit uncomfortable around people she doesn't know," Leah explained defensively.

Lia shook her head, struggling to comprehend Leah's actions.

"She's jealous!" Lia whispered to Leah, lowering her voice even further.

"She's not!" Leah said. "Why would she be?"

"Because you kissed her, and now you're practically pushing her out to spend time with another woman," Lia retorted, her frustration mounting. "She must be feeling incredibly hurt right now. I've never seen anyone look at me with such disdain."

Leah took a moment to process Lia's words. She realized she had been kind of dumb about it.

"I feel like I'm messing everything up," Leah confessed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed. "I don't know what I'm doing with her."

Lia sighed deeply and placed a reassuring hand on Leah's shoulder.

"I just... I think you're letting nerves get the best of you. I haven't seen you like this in ages," Lia remarked softly.

"I do like her, but... I'm not sure. I care about her a lot, but I don't know if she's ready for a relationship right now," Leah admitted.

"You need to talk to her about it," Lia advised, giving Leah a supportive pat on the back. "Don't let her slip away. She's hot" Lia added with a smirk this time, earning a playful tap on the back from Leah. "Ouch."

With your phone in hand, you walked back into the living room, surprised to find Leah alone, leaning against the couch with her arms crossed.

"I'm leaving now," you said, not bothering to ask where Lia had gone.

Leah took a deep breath and spoke calmly, her voice composed. She had regained her composure and wasn't going to let things get out of hand. She knew how to take control and wasn't going to let her racing heart mess things up again.

"You don't have to leave," she said, looking you straight in the eyes.

"Leah, cut it out," you replied, still annoyed.  "I'll get an Uber and that's it. Let's not complicate things."

As you headed for the door, Leah quickly moved to block your path, grabbing your wrist before you could open it.

"If you're leaving, at least let me take you," she said, her expression a mix of seriousness and sadness. "I brought you here, after all."

You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered her request.

"Please," Leah pleaded, her thumb gently stroking your wrist.

The ride back wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the ride to Leah’s house. Leah didn't say a word, only glancing over when she needed to switch lanes. The rest of the time, she stared straight ahead, jaw clenched and a deep frown creasing her face. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

She was clearly irritated, maybe with herself. 

“Or maybe with me?” you thought to yourself.

But you were annoyed too. You were often criticized for being stubborn; people always told you that you never backed down. But maybe this time you should. After all, you had been pretty harsh with Lia, who eventually left Leah's place. That was the one thing you could apologize for. The rest? That was all Leah's business. After all, she was the one who kissed you first, then decided to leave you alone in her backyard and almost kicked you out of her house.

You needed to talk, that was sure. 

"I want you to come with me to my room," you said in a low, almost embarrassed tone. You weren't about to apologize for acting like a teenager in a parking lot.

Leah nodded, and as soon as you arrived at your hotel, she stepped out of the car and followed you inside. 

The room greeted you with its untouched state, just your bags thrown on the bed. Leah felt a bit uneasy; everything seemed too neat and cold.

"Leah, I..." you began.

"Y/n," Leah cut in. She raised her hand, signaling to go first. "I'm sorry about what happened at my place," she said sadly. "I was too nervous. I don't know what I was thinking. I was overwhelmed because all I could think about was that I kissed you, and I'm not sure if that was the right move or not," she admitted, pausing between each word.

"What do you mean you're not sure if kissing me was right?" you asked, feeling a pang of hurt. Did Leah regret it?

"I... I'm trying to see things from your side," Leah explained. "You've got a lot going on, and I don't want us to be another problem on your list," she said sincerely.

"This isn't a problem," you said quickly, your brow furrowing. "You're not the problem. How I feel about you—well, that's more complicated. We're in this uncertain place, and it's throwing me off," you added, trying to articulate your feelings. "I might be impulsive, but I crave stability. When you kiss me and then seem to regret it, it messes with my head. If you want to kiss me, Leah, I need you to be sure."

"What?" Leah took a step back, her expression caught between surprise and confusion, as you leaned in closer.

"Do you like me?" you asked directly.

"Yes, of course I like you," Leah said, stumbling over her words.

"Good, because I like you too," you said quickly. "I want to give us a shot, Leah. I want to go on dates with you, watch you play, have you come watch me play. I want all of that and more, but I need you to be sure."

"I am sure," Leah said, straightening up where she stood. "But I'm scared this will interfere with your career. I know relationships demand a lot, and I can be pretty intense, but I also just want to be there for you, to hug you and hold you when everything feels overwhelming. I want to be the person by your side through the tough times."

Her voice softened with determination as she closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently cup your cheeks in her hands.

"I want to get to know you even more," Leah said, locking eyes with you. "I want us to be there for each other when things get tough, to lean on each other through the ups and downs." Her gaze held a sincerity that touched you deeply. “You're someone I really want to know,” she added softly. “Just getting to know a part of you was enough to make me practically lose it when I'm around you.”

Her words left you speechless, a lump forming in your throat. Leah's honesty and vulnerability caught you off guard. You struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment and your deepening feelings for her. But you knew you couldn't leave Leah hanging without a response.

You slid your hand to the back of her neck and pulled her close. When your lips met, it felt like everything clicked into place. 

Leah's lips were soft, and you couldn't resist teasingly biting them. Her hand traced down from your cheek to your waist, and it sent shivers down your spine.

"I think I'm going to fall for you," you murmured against her lips, resting your forehead against hers as you both caught your breath. Your cheeks flushed with warmth, mirroring Leah's own blush.

"Please do," Leah murmured, kissing you again with a gentle urgency. She guided you over to the couch, plopping down and pulling you onto her lap. She held you close, her arms wrapped around your waist, and the kisses kept coming.

You couldn't tell where one kiss ended and the next began, Leah's hands sliding down your back, sending shivers through you. Leah's lips traced a path from your jaw down to your neck, her hand slipping under your shirt at the same time, sending sparks through your skin.

"Wait, Leah," you said, placing your hands on her shoulders, trying to muster the strength to pull away. But Leah looked irresistible, her mouth slightly open, lips swollen from kissing and your bites, eyes dark and dilated with desire.

"Too fast?" she asked softly, her hands resting on your thighs, gently stroking them up and down. You nodded, not trusting your voice to come out steady.

"I'm sorry," Leah apologized, but her smile was sweet rather than mischievous. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," you replied, settling more comfortably onto her lap. Leah took that as a green light, wrapping her arms around your back and pulling you into a warm, cozy hug. 

Because of the way you were sitting, Leah's head rested level with your chest, her ear pressed against your heartbeat. 

"Your heart's racing," she murmured, hugging you tighter. 

You didn't say anything, just hugged her back, clinging to her like a koala. 

"Shut up," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. "Can you... I mean, do you want to stay the night?" you asked in a whisper.

Leah chuckled softly. "Well, it’s not like I have much of a choice," she teased, referring to how you had her cornered against the back of the couch.

"Are you uncomfortable?" you whispered softly, your voice muffled against Leah's neck.

"I'm comfy," Leah whispered with her eyes closed. "You're warm, it feels nice."

"Feels nice to me too," you replied softly.

You had lent Leah a pair of your pajamas after room service brought dinner. Now, you were both in bed, facing each other. Under the covers, your legs were tangled together, as if that was enough to keep her from leaving.

"I think it's time to say I love your eyes," you murmured, taking advantage of the dim lighting. It was dark enough to hide how flushed you were, but still light enough to see her reaction. "They're such a pretty color, and they sparkle so much. It's unfair that I've spent so much time looking at them only through a screen."

Leah held her breath for a moment, her heart racing. "Do you like them that much?" she asked, moving a little closer to you. You nodded. "I also like your eyes, your lips, your nose, god, everything about you... I never want to stop seeing your face ever."

You blushed even more, feeling the heat on your cheeks, but you couldn't help but smile. "Stop saying adorable things," you said with a soft laugh.

Leah took your hand gently, intertwining her fingers with yours. "You'll have to get used to it. I could make a list of things I have to tell you for every date we’ll go on."

"You're already planning dates?"

"I won't let you get away from me," Leah laughed, stroking her thumb over your hand.

You were silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of her fingers intertwined with yours.

"Sounds good to me," you finally said, looking Leah in the eye. "I'm ready for those dates."

Leah's smile widened, her eyes sparkling even more. "Then get ready for a lot more of this," she whispered, leaning in to give you a goodnight kiss on your lips.

[kathrahender]

"You want to make everything LGBT" "They are married and with children" "They're enemies/rivals, wth?" "They don't see each other like that" "They are just friends" "They are like brothers/sisters" "They are in love with another person" "X character is straight" "Why can't two girls/two boys be friends?"

Those are only a few examples of comments people has done about shipping two girls/two boys together. And I'm so tired of reading again and again and again the same things. I'm not gonna lie, I tried to hold back my anger towards this topic, but I need to talk about this to feel better.

First, about the "You want to make everything LGBT". No, no. That's not true. We don't want to make everything LGBT. You are the one who wants to make everything straight. In every single show/movie I've watched there is at least one straight couple (most of the times there is more than one). And you know how many LGBT ships are in the same show? Yes? Exactly. Zero. One or two if the show is good enough to be inclusive. So please, stop with the "You want to make everything LGBT" argument because it's stupid and it makes no sense.

Secondly, about the "They are married and with children". So? What does that mean to you? Why does that matter? Last time I checked, divorce existed. And there are straight couples that divorced in real life, so I don't see a problem if the straight couples divorces in the show/movie. Is it a big deal in reality? No. Or you just don't like the "breaking up because falling in love with someone of the same sex" thing? Huh?

In third place, the "They're enemies/rivals". Ever heard about the enemies/rivals to lovers trope? And about the redemption/corruption arc? Because those are ways a ship like that can happen. And last time I checked, people don't care about the "enemy/rival" thing if the ship is straight. No one cared about the "enemies to lovers" in books like Shadow and Bone, Folk of the Air, Shatter Me or others. So that only matters if the ship is LGBT or what?

"They don't see each other like that". Well. You always saw your lover as your lover? Or first it was your rival, your friend, or someone who wasn't even in your inner circle? You saw them and you inmediatly became lovers or what? Because two characters can be rivals, friends, or people who don't know each other at first and then learn to love each other. Just. Exactly. Like. A. Straight. Couple. So, again, this is a dumb argument.

"They are just friends". Just like I said in the previous point, a boy/boy or girl/girl friendship can turn into love just like a boy/girl friendship can.

"They are like brothers/sisters". Let me ask you a question. They canonically said "I see you as a sister/as a brother"? Because if they didn't, you're just asuming things. You're just assuming they see each other as sisters/brothers because you don't bear them seeing each other romantically.

"They are in love with another person". Agaaaain. Were you always in love with one person? Did you marry the first person you loved or what? Or you liked/loved people until you found the person you actually wanted to be by your side forever? And just as you can fall in love with someone, you can stop loving them. So once again, this argument makes no sense.

"X character is straight". Well. I myself thought I was straight. My best female friend thought she was straight herself. My two best male friends thought they were straight themselves. And I ended up being pansexual, my best female friend turned out to be bisexual, and my two best male friends turned out to be bisexual/gay. Being married to a woman being a man or being married to a man being a woman doesn't mean they're straight. They could realize they are not straight but bisexual. Or pansexual. Or ace. Or whatever you want. But it's not something that cannot change. It's not something written in stone.

"Why can't two girls/two boys be friends?". And why a girl and a boy can't be just friends? Because almost every show has a main straight canon couple. Westallen, Olicity (The Flash, Arrow), Charles/Moira, Peter/MJ (Marvel), Darklina (Shadow and Bone), Stydia, Scallison (Teen Wolf), Deckerstar (Lucifer TV), Hinny (Harry Potter), Mileven (Stranger Things), Anidala, Obitine (Star Wars), Leorai, Apriltello (TMNT 2012)... And I could continue. And it is always the main couple. The main couple is always a girl and a boy. So I don't understand why can't you see that the ones that can't be just friends aren't two boys or two girls. The ones that always have to be romantically involved are a boy and a girl.

If you read this to the end, thank you. I hope you think the same as me. And if you don't, read it again and see some of the shows I mentioned. And please, think about what I said instead of being a close-minded person.

[mcflymemes]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST *  assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.

i love you. it's ruining my life.

does it feel all right to not know me?

i am who i am 'cause you trained me.

quick. tell me something awful.

i loved you the way that you were.

we were just kids, babe.

i can fix him.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married.

you said i'm the love of your life.

way up there, i actually love it.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

do you hate me?

did you think i had it in me?

what if i told you i'm back?

i still miss the smoke.

i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.

you look like stevie nicks.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

i still can't believe it.

this happens once every few lifetimes.

didn't you hear? they called it all off.

it's happening again.

my friends say it isn't right to be scared.

i might just die.

fuck you if i can't have us.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

no one's ever had me... not like you.

stay away from her.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

i don't think you've changed much.

that's where i was when i lost it all.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

i hoped you'd return.

do you believe me now?

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

what are the chances you'd be downtown?

is it something i did?

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.

the story isn't mine anymore.

what a charming saturday!

none of it is changing.

wild winds are death to the candle.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

i didn't want to come down.

everything had been above board.

blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.

you can mark my words that i said it first.

the professor said to write what you know.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay.

your words are still just ringing in my head.

i built a legacy which you can't undo.

who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?

the effects were temporary.

no, i'm not coming to my senses.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

you're a professional.

long may you reign.

you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

if i'd been there, i'd hate it.

only the gentle survived.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

are you still a mind reader?

let it once be me.

i haven't decided yet.

i still dream of him.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

it was always the same searing pain.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.

she used to say she wished that you were dead.

tell me all your secrets.

they tried to warn you about me.

you're in terrible danger.

i'm the life you chose.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

no one asks any questions here.

tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.

i'm running back home to you.

you should see your faces.

you knew the price going in.

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

i don't ever want you back.

did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

am i allowed to cry?

there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.

they're going to crucify me anyway.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

[kanekisfavoritegf]

PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

CHAPTER ONE:

The lights somehow made you glow in Kento Nanmi's eyes. Or maybe it was just you, and your effortless ability to draw everyone's eyes on you. You stood atop a table dancing with Satoru wildly, arms flailing and your body rolling along to the rhythmic pounding of the bass. Pink and blue lights stuck to you and everyone in the nightclub's eyes.

"Stare any harder, Kento; lasers might shoot from your eyes," Suguru smirked as he spoke.

"I don't know what you mean, Suguru," Kento said curtly before taking a swig of his drink.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

"There is nothing to tell."

"Do you want me to schedule a date with you and Yuki?" 

"Yuki?" Kento coughed a drop of his drink catching in his throat.

"Your eyes have been locked on her since she got on the table with her friend." The blonde man almost laughed in his face from pure shock.

"Who wouldn't stare with her atrocious dancing, almost like a headless chicken. Either way, stop trying to set me up; I've sworn off dating, remember?"

"How could we ever forget." Satoru chimed in, sliding next to Suguru, sweat making his blue work shirt cling to his body tightly, "One bad kiss in University and suddenly, any romantic opportunity was thrown out the window with you."

That was the washed-down version of what happened to Kento, but his work colleagues didn't need to know about how he basically got verbally beaten by a girl cause he wasn't ready to lose his V-Card in a one-night stand.

"Oh, all he needs to do is put himself out there more," Yuki said, forcing herself into this embarrassingly uncomfortable conversation. "You are gonna die a virgin if you keep this up."

"Better to die a virgin than known as a whore."

"Hey! I am not a whore." Satoru exclaimed. 

"Yet somehow you knew Kento was talking about you." Yuki quipped back.

"Where is…" Suguru’s voice trailed off when he realized he had forgotten your name.

“Y/N?” Kento helped Suguru find the name.

"Yes," the long-haired man snapped his fingers, "Where is Y/N? She is going to miss the cake."

"Cake?" Kento grumbled. "You didn't say there was going to be cake, Satoru. You promised there wouldn't be cake."

"Okay, I lied." Satoru tried to conceal a smile

Kento raised to his feet, ready to leave before the birthday parade showed up with cake, probably with something stupid on its icing, and a club screaming happy birthday drunkenly. "But think of it like a welcome cake, too. For Y/N, Yuki wanted her to get to know all of us before her first day in the department on Monday. And you two haven't spoken to her since she first introduced herself." Satoru pointed at Suguru and Kento.

"You are the one who stole her away to do the “Six Devil Shots” and then to the dance floor," Suguru said.

"Or you too could have come and danced with us." You cut in, a cake and candles in hand. "I stole this out of the kitchen."

"You said you were going to the bathroom." Yuki laughed.

"I did, and then I stole the cake."

"Unbelievable," Satoru said. "It was supposed to be a big thing for Nanami." Satoru pouted slightly at the prospects of not being able to embarrass his coworker. 

"Well, Mr. Nanami doesn't seem like the type to enjoy drunk people sing-screaming at him, much less their attention solely on him." You slid your way onto Nanami's side, placing the cake in front of him and the three and five candles in its center. "You have a lighter, right?" You whispered into Kento's ear. He only nodded, letting out a nervous breath before pulling it out and handing it to you.

The group sang Happy Birthday as loudly as they could over the blasting music that played behind them. Giving up after the first verse, Kento blew out his candles.

Thirty-five years old as of today, and he was no better than a teenage boy, semi-hard because you whispered in his ear and stole a cake so he could avoid attention. Sometimes, Nanami felt he was missing out on what Yuki, Satoru, and Suguru had. Some imaginary certificate to adulthood, the type that could only be won through cashing in his V-Card, but then again, would losing it to a stranger make him catch up with others his age? He knew he wasn’t the only virgin at his age, but in situations where a pretty girl flirts with him, and he wants to flirt back, something always manages to catch his tongue. The voice in the back of his head probably reminds him that she wants something from him that Kento knows he won’t be able to give her. So he doesn’t flirt anymore. And as fast as the hard-on came, it was gone, along with any idea of ever entertaining the idea that you would ever want him.

Just because a woman is nice to you doesn't mean you get hard. Kento reprimanded himself in his head.

"Okay, enjoy the cake; I'm heading home now," Kento shouted over the music. "I have to catch the last train."

Yuki and Gojo booed them loudly while Geto threw him a look that screamed, "You are going to leave me with these idiots?"

"So do I." You said, "Mind walking with me?" you said, realizing what time it was.

Kento wanted so badly to say, "Yes, I mind. The whole reason I am taking the train and not a taxi later is to avoid you." but he didn't. He only shook his head and grabbed his coat.

"I'll send you the money for my bill when I get home, Satoru," you said, grabbing your coat. 

"Don't worry about it," Kento said as he placed down a wad of cash before putting a hand over your shoulder, hovering slightly, "You ready?"

You only nodded, ignoring the head in your voice that swooned a little at the simple act of covering your bill. You were tipsy; that's why your delusions ran a little wild.

You made a mental note to never do shots with Satoru again as you slowly made your way through the dancing crowd and out of the nightclub, Kento's hand still on your shoulder.

***

The night air was surprisingly calm for the summer, making you shiver a little as you turned into Kento, keeping his body close to yours under the stars and in a quiet street.

“How was your birthday?” You asked, wanting to break the silence that seemed to fall upon the two of you.

“It was good.” He said curtly, “I don’t really have experience with celebrations to do with me.”

“You don’t celebrate your birthday?” You asked, even though it wasn’t all that surprising.

“What counts as celebrating?” 

“Hmmm, something fun, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Well, it’s my first time going to a nightclub to celebrate.” A small smile decorated his face, “I usually cook a nice dinner for myself or go to a fancy restaurant that I have been saving up on.”

“What about everyone else?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you are telling me this is the first time Satoru has dragged you out for your birthday?”

“The first time since University, yes.” Kento didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t pry, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. As you turned the corner, you guys made your way to the train tracks, empty and void of any life other than the three people on the other side of the tracks. 

Just like before, the train ride was quiet. A few people were on the train, but you managed to snag seats together. You don’t know when it happened, but you let yourself drift to sleep, leaving Kento alone to his thoughts.

Each lurch of the cart when the train stopped and started made you curl into the man even more until your body leaned against him completely. 

It was only when his stop approached that Kento realized he didn’t know where you lived or whether you missed your stop. A slight panic filled him, and he shook a fully asleep you back to consciousness. 

“Y/N. Y/N.” He half whispered into your ear. Only to be met with soft groans. He shook you a little harder this time, and that’s when your eyes fluttered open. Still half asleep, though, you barely comprehend what he was saying, mindlessly grabbing his hand and following him as he stepped off the train.

Alcohol was still dancing in your brain; you nodded your head in agreement and followed him to his apartment…

Preview...

Nanami knew he wouldn’t last long, but as he sunk into you, the idea of even holding in the waves of pleasure that drowned him was impossible.

TAG LIST: @marikuchanxo @sukunasstomachtongue @getosgirlfailure @allysunny @tojicvmslut @typefeisu @aiyaaayei @villsophie @sillysillygoofygoose @jinleft @rivversin @haikioo @destinyblue-jjk @ramonathinks @actuallysaiyan @actuallysaiyan @melisuh123

CHAPTER TWO UPLOADED

[sexilene]

kinda need some 80s slasher jj pleaseee!! like maybe he tries to apologize but like reader avoids him and that gets him mad!! thank you angel!

oooh! absolutely!! i literally love anything 80s you have no idea, i love talking about it!! (ignore the spelling mistakes, i'm exhausted lol)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, cock warming, blood, death, violence, obsession, squirting, slight breeding kink, gun mentions, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

"it's almost 1 in the morning jj, go away!" you whisper yell at him, lightly pushing his shoulder to get him to leave and climb back down your balcony.

"i tried to talk to you all day. you kept walkin' away from me…what's up with that?" he whisper yells back, not budging, he walks closer to the balcony window as if he's going to enter your room.

"i was about to go to sleep jj."

"nah, your light was on." he shakes his head.

"go away please!" you plead with him, hoping it is enough to just leave you alone.

"hey, you're not scared a'me? are you? cause, you don't need ta'be. i'm still the same jj."

"you killed someone!" you back away from him, placing your hand on the handle of the balcony door.

"well okay, but i apologized that day in the car and i've been trying to talk to you and apologize again, you were the one who kept avoiding me." he reasons, holding the door open with his hand.

"i accept your apology, now please go!" you whisper yell again.

"nah nah nah…you don't mean it, i need you to know that i fucked up n'i'm sorry."

"that you killed danny?"

"no, that you saw that i killed danny…look your my frie- no your my girl and i had to do somethin' cuz that asshole was just-" you put your hand up to get him to stop rambling "jj stop." but he just takes the opportunity to push past you and walk into your room.

"never saw your room before…y'like janet jackson?" he laughs softly and points to the poster on your wall and then looks over at the cassette tapes on your dresser. "…and madonna huh?"

"jayjay my parents are gonna freak if they wake up and find a boy in my room!" you grab onto his arm, trying to drag him back out.

"ya' got any dirty movies?" he diverts his attention over to your little tv on the other side of your dresser.

"seriously! beat it!" he sighs dramatically and lets you walk him back over to the balcony. "fine. see ya tomorrow then?"

"yes. yeah…you will, goodnight," you assure him, watching as he nods, satisfied with your answer he climbs back down the side of your house.

you tried you best to smile at him when you happened to cross paths or make eye contact but you just couldn't help avoiding him, i mean he did still totally freak you out. you had just about survived the day without having to talk to him but then on your way back to your house you see him leaning against his truck, parked on the side walk. you decide to just pretend you don't see him and walk right past him.

"hold it." he grabs onto your arm tightly, stopping you from walking away. "…listen, i don't know if i was a total dip for apologizing cause the whole point was t'get you to stop ignoring me, and clearly the message was not received. " he squints, obviously not very happy with you.

"i was just super busy and i had a major test to study for so thats wh-"

"no no hey, don't worry about it babydoll, i know how you can make it up t'me," he loosens his grip on your arm and gives you a charming smile, dimples showing and everything.

"o-ohkay…what did you have in mind?" you begin to relax at how his demeanor has changed, hopefully, you think.

"rented this gnarly tape n'i wanted to watch it with you. your folks home?"

"no…they don't back tonight till 3 in the morning…big dinner benefit thing, they usually get drunk and stay really late into the night…" you ramble.

"right. great. i'll drive you home."

"ohkay jayjay…thank you," you respond shyly as if you two had just met and he was asking you on a date.

"so which movie did you rent?"

"its a surprise, think you'll reaaaally like it."

"i like most movies…want anything from the kitchen? water, beer…"

"m'good, i just put the tape in, cuhmon, i'll be gentle with you." he sits down on your bed and pats his lap for you to come over and sit on. you nod slowly and sit right next to him, so he grabs your waist and scooches you over onto his lap, your ass right up against his gradually hardening bulge.

"jj…what are you doin'?" you take your eyes off the tv and look down at his hand coming to flip your skirt up and feel that you're not wearing any panties, giving him full permission to rub on your pussy.

"shshsh, just focus on the TV, princess." you ignore his actions like an idiot and figure at least he's being gentle with you and focus back on the TV, the camera in a POV angle following a guy with his hands up defensively.

"what are we watching?…" you whisper, trying to push jj's hand away from your pussy, but obviously that doesn't do anything. he smacks your hand away and goes right back to touching you.

"it's a movie i made…see there that's your ex-boyfriend, talked him into the role," he whispers back, clearly very interested in what's on the screen…and playing with your pussy. the next thing you know you watch as your ex-boyfriend gets shot in the face and then shot more times in the chest, blood going everywhere.

"ohmygod jay-!" you scream, shutting your eyes and covering your mouth with one hand, while the other tries to get his hand away from you so you can get the hell off of him. he ignores your attempt and tightly wraps his other arm around you to keep you in place.

"holyfuck you're so wet." he laughs, dipping two fingers into your embarrassingly wet cunt, the intrusion making you mewl and turn your head away from the screen and the gory mess being shown.

"nah uh, keep watching." he tuts, moving his hand away from your princess parts and over to his jeans to pull his dick out to put inside you.

"i don't want to watch this anymore! i don't wanna-"

"don't care whatcha don't wanna do, worked hard to do this for you babe…so you're gonna sit here on my cock and watch the fucking movie i made for you." he grunts, lifting you onto his dick, the stretch and fullness you feel is unreal, you have no choice but to sit there and soak his fat cock.

"no!" you cry, tears starting to gather at your waterline.

"yeah…she's likes it, she's squeezing me reaaaaal good baby. jj presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wraps his arms around you again to keep you there.

"turn it off, please! please!…"

"y'gonna quit ignorin me, cupcake?"

"uh huh…i swear just please!"

"it's almost over, keep watchin." but you just can't, squeezing your eyes shut you try to block out all the noise and just focus on not cumming on him, not wanting to give into him. yet, there's no use, cause now he's got his three fingers pressing down on your little clit, rubbing it fast and hard.

"jayjay!" you squeal, digging your nails into his arm that is around your waist, as you cum hard around his dick. when you blink your eyes open the tape has finished and you notice all the liquid sprayed on your sheets.

"oh ho…there she is, squirting on my cock like a dumb slut.” he smiles and presses a little kiss to your neck.

"not on birth control are you?" you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as he continues to softly rub your clit.

"yo, i'm talkin to you." he spits, slapping your cheek a few times with this big warm hand to get you to respond. a few more tears spill down your face and respond with a weak whisper. "no, m'not…m'not…"

"maybe y'should be." he grunts softly before dumping his huge warm load in you just from cock warming.

[avatar-anna]

When You Fall In Love...

so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood

part one, part two, bonus, bonus

Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.

Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.

But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.

Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.

"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.

"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.

Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.

"I'm fine."

She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."

Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.

He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.

But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.

"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.

"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.

Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.

Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."

Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.

So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

*.*

"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"

Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.

Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.

Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.

She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.

And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.

His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.

Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.

It was love at first sight.

Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.

He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.

They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.

So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.

Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.

To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"

"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.

When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.

That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.

*.*

"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am! God, Harry, I am."

"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."

"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.

Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"

"No!

"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"

"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"

You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.

"Y/n—"

"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."

You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.

At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.

Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.

"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.

"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"

It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.

You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.

Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.

"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."

You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."

"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"

"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."

You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.

Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."

You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.

"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."

"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.

It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.

"Oh."

"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."

"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"

"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."

"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."

You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"

"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."

"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"

"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.

"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."

Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"

"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.

Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."

"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."

"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."

Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."

"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."

"Shut up."

"Make me!"

And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.

[sweeterthanficstion]

— take me back to eden || l.s.k

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader --- fem pronouns are not used, but written with fem!reader in mind. reader is afab

tags: high school au, college au, re2r leon -> re4r leon pipeline, childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, smut, a fuck ton of yearning MDNI 18+, male masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex (don't be silly, guys), loss of virginity, hand job, cunnilingus sort of, creampie, praise kink, breeding kink if you squint (sorry...) porn with plot, porn with feelings (like. too many feelings it's sort of gross)

summary: You try to desperately reignite an old friendship with Leon before high school wraps up. What starts out as a simple effort to mend things blossoms into something you couldn't have anticipated. But as summer ends, Leon’s moving away for College, leaving you in Raccoon City. Or so you thought.

word count: 10k ish

a/n: gosh, hi, it's been a while!! i've been fighting writer's block for nearly a year, and it definitely was NOT part of my plan to post leon smut before the knight fic, but cough ovulation week cough and uh.. this happened? big thanks to cressie for feeding the brainworms, and vivi for cheering me on, and of course eva for encouraging me to write again <33

also for the sake of my own sanity we're gonna pretend kairo was released in the 1990s because i just REALLY wanted them to watch kairo. and if you can catch all the song/movie references i make throughout this you'll get a gold star, anyway, enjoy! <3

playlist ⭑ masterlist ⭑AO3

If someone offered Leon a thousand dollars to pinpoint exactly where in the timeline of your friendship you’d grown apart, he wouldn’t be able to. Maybe it was just fate taking her course, friends growing apart. He’s tried to make peace with it, chalking it up to the inevitability of growing apart, another lesson in the long list of things he’s had to learn to accept.

But it doesn’t stop him from missing you. More than he’s willing to admit, even to himself.

Between college applications and finals, Leon’s life is already at full capacity, he’s fast-tracking, tunnel vision set on finishing senior year and getting into Stanford so he can get the hell out of Raccoon City. And he’s got it, he’s got this.

But then there you are, barrelling back into his life with all the force of something impossible to ignore, as if you’d never really left his orbit, as if the universe decided it wasn’t quite done with the two of you yet. Your smile hasn’t changed, still sweet and sticky like molasses. It’s disarming when  you ask if he can tutor you, voice light and breezy, as if no time has passed between you at all— just a few sessions here and there! You tell him, just to save you from failing another semester of chemistry.

He agrees nearly blindly, the words out of his mouth before he has time to think them through.

It has been so long since you’d even talked to him properly, anything other than a ‘hi’ or a ‘bye’ muttered in the school hallways before you’re whisked away by your friends. He’s honestly elated you’d approached him at all—he tried not to show it, though.

And he did great the first few sessions. Sure, it was more than awkward at first—but Leon was partly thankful for it. It left little room for him to entertain the idea of staying friends with you again for long. You’d create a simple routine together wherein you’d come over to his place, he’d teach you everything from organic to physical chemistry, then you’d bid him goodnight and leave. Simple. Predictable. Routine.

But then you started to break that routine, a variable that he hadn’t accounted for. You’d kick his foot under the dining table while you worked on homework together, laugh at his jokes even when they’re painfully bad because you think it’s cute. Then when you have to migrate upstairs after his parents come home from work, you’d settle onto his bed, glancing around his room and teasing him about how little he’d changed—still the same movie posters, still the same boy you once knew. 

You tell him about your day, he tells you about his, then you’ll go as far as to stay a little longer some nights, both of you acutely aware of the time but not doing a thing about it. 

He finds with time, he’s learnt to enjoy your company again. It isn’t so tense, no longer like walking on the glass shards of your previously shattered relationship. It’s easier now, as if none of the vast ocean separating you was ever there to begin with. He tries not to dwell on the fact that this newfound relationship is built entirely on the twenty dollar bill you hand him each night.

Then one night Leon’s mother invites you to stay for dinner, he expects you to politely decline, hand him the twenty dollar bill for the tuition, and leave. 

But much to Leon’s surprise, you don’t.

It’s catalytic, like a domino effect that he’s helpless against stopping. It gets so much worse when you offer to stay behind to help clean up. All but glowing as you strike up casual conversation with his mother, as if you’d never stopped visiting over the past six years. You’re a sweet talker, always have been, you compliment his mother on her cooking, ask her for the recipe, she tells you you’ll just have to come over and help her make it one night. You laugh, meeting Leon’s gaze as you tell her you just might have to.

God, Leon’s so fucked.

Absolutely fucked when he catches himself thinking about you in the middle of class, eyes trained like a hawk on the door to the classroom, waiting to see if you’ll show or not. You don’t. He’s not really surprised. He finds he doesn’t exactly mind though. Frankly, it’s none of his business whether you show or not, and a part of him likes the extra attention he gets out of it when you ask him all the questions you’d know if you did show up to classes while he’s tutoring you.

You’ll have your pen between your teeth like you always do, run a hand through your hair as you watch him work, bat those stupidly pretty eyelashes at him when you don’t understand what he’s trying to say. 

“None of this is making sense,” You huff, shoving your head into your hands, elbows braced on his dining room table. 

You catch the glimpse of sympathy that flashes across Leon’s face when you peek at him through your fingers, and eternally cringe at how you must look.

“Just one more chapter, then we’ll be done.” He promises, tapping the eraser end of his pencil on your notebook. 

He’s got that boyish smile on his lips when you meet his gaze, his thin-framed glasses perched atop his face make him look so much cuter than you remember him being when you were kids.

Your heart constricts in the familiar way it always does nowadays. A sickening reminder that you have a secret; closely guarded in your heart, tucked away by lock and key. You’re in love with your best friend.

Well, your once best friend. The term "best friends" feels outdated, like it belongs to a version of you that no longer exists. It’s partly your fault— well, mostly your fault. The rift between you didn’t just appear; you carved it out with every sorry excuse you’d made at fourteen when you’d chosen your flashy new friends over time spent with Leon.

But what were you to do? Middle school turned to High School and you’d gone from the sad lonely girl at the back of the class to someone worth looking at. 

And Leon? Well, you convinced yourself he was only dragging you down, or that’s what you told yourself to help to ease the guilt every time you brushed him off.

Was it shitty of you to pay your way back into his life? Yeah, but you’re also sort of a coward when it comes to confrontation. There were a million better ways to try to fix what you broke, but here you are, handing Leon twenty bucks a week for a chance to be close to him again.

Either way life moves on, and you find yourself falling for him. Stupidly, helplessly, completely.

Leon finds he’s drowning just as you are.

He’s so far past the point of just fucked. He’s utterly infatuated at this point. You’re stunning, every bit as beautiful as the word allows, beautiful as he watches you across the gym at a morning assembly. You’re busy talking to one of those jocks on the football team, Calvin? Chris? He can’t remember, he doesn’t care. Or that's what he tells himself.

He cares. He cares entirely too much, especially when you curl a lock of your hair around your finger, smiling at whatever bullshit Chris must be spouting with that mouth of his. Leon sinks into his seat further, diverts his attention to the front of the auditorium, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. He’s desperate to ignore what definitely seems like you flirting with someone who definitely isn’t himself. 

He’s not jealous though, Leon isn’t jealous. ‘Course not.

That’s what he repeats to himself later that night, alone in his bed when his hand curls around the length of his hard dick, tip weeping as he gives a pitiful tug, teeth sunk into his bottom lip. 

He tries incredibly desperately to stifle the whine that bubbles up his throat, hand moving on its own accord as his eyes flutter shut. He doesn’t even realise he’s holding his breath until he starts getting light headed, too caught up chasing his own high. He comes embarrassingly fast, one, two, three, four more pumps and he’s done for, your name the last thing on his lips.

Leon swallows thickly before the crushing reality that he’d imagined you as he came fills him with a burst of shame. He tries to push the thought aside as quickly as it comes, groaning as he moves to sit on the edge of his bed. 

Yeah. He’s fucked.

A few weeks later, Leon finds himself sitting on the bleachers after class. He wouldn’t be caught dead out here less than a few weeks ago, but you had given him such a sweet smile when you’d told him you had cheer practice, asked him if he’d be okay waiting just a little before going back to his place for tuition.

It’s not so bad, he thinks, as he flicks through the songs on his cheap mp3 player. But even with that distraction, you’re far more captivating. You're dazzling, to say the least—dress glimmering under the afternoon sun as you go through your routine. Leon watchs and tries not to stare. 

It’s when you walk up to him though, all but shimmering, glowing under golden hour, that it hits him like a freight train all at once. He’s fallen horrifically far from his pedestal, what he feels for you now is so much more than what he did for you as kids. Not just as a friend, and yet much more than a schoolboy crush. 

The next few events unfold very quickly—you sit down next to him on the bleachers, the skin of your thigh pressing to his where your dress rides up. He freezes, his own skin flushing a shade of pink that he hopes goes unnoticed. You press your ear against his headset, stick your tongue out between your lips as if you’re in dire concentration, trying to hear what’s playing.

“What’re you listening to?” You ask when you pull away, pushing the headset off his head before you slide them over your own ears. 

You light up at what you hear, “The Smiths? Seriously, Leon, you have not changed.”

He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair to fix it from where your hands had mused it. “They’re good,” His voice is soft despite the protest in his tone. It’s then, you realise, that he’s blushing. 

Cute, cute, cute, you think. There is a particular warmth that blossoms in your chest seeing him like this, one that only Leon can really elicit.

You smile brighter,  “Yeah, I know. I love The Smiths.”

Leon looks starstruck. Of course you do. 

It doesn’t stop there, much to Leon’s own disappointment. He’d hoped after the school year was over you’d go back to not talking to him, and he could move past this and never think about it again (yeah, as if). 

But you don’t. At this point he should just stop wishing for anything at all. Clearly the universe is working against him in the fickle way it always has.

You call him every few nights, ask how he is, what he’s doing, if he’s busy. Things friends would ask each other. Do you count as friends? Leon would like to think so. But then again, he probably shouldn’t be picturing a friend’s face when he’s tugging at his own dick.

You should come over sometime. You say over the phone one night, voice sweet even over the shitty receptor of his home landline. His back straightens a little at your words, the lilt in your voice, as he leans against the counter in his kitchen.

He imagines you lying on your bed, feet kicked up as you hold your flashy new flip-phone between your shoulder and your ear. He wonders what you’re wearing. 

Hello? Your voice crackles, and he’s immediately pulled from his thoughts. C’mon, it’s not that bad of an idea. You laugh on the other end.

He hesitates. Yes, yes, yes, his mind screams at him. Well, I mean… what for?

Lame fucking answer.

Do I need a reason to invite my friend over?

He goes a little rigid at that, mulling over his next words as he feels heat climb up his neck. So we’re friends again now?

The line goes quiet for so long he’s sure you’ve abandoned your phone and left the line open. He nearly hangs up, letting out a sigh as he goes to rehook the landline back on the wall before your voice filters through at the last minute.

Of course we are, silly! Well, I mean— I know the secret Kennedy pasta recipe now.

He smiles then. That you do.

When Leon gets to your place, the cold Summer night air is sharp against his skin. He’s barely touched the doorbell when the front door swings open, the wide smile on your face is contagious—a spontaneous reaction sets off in his heart. 

“Hi,” You grin.

“Hey,” He greets, albeit a little awkwardly. 

You’re endeared, to say the least.

You lead him through the familiar hallways of your home, past family photos he’s seen countless times before, into the family media room, tucked away at the back of the house. It hasn’t changed much from the last time he was here—God, what was that? Six, eight years ago?—he recalls fond memories of escaping your parent’s annual Christmas parties to watch Christmas Mountain while snuggled up on the couch together instead.

“What about that one?” You hum, legs pulled up onto the large plush sofa in your media room, tucking your knees under your chin as you wave a hand at one of the titles in the box of your father’s old DVDs.

“You wanna watch Kairo?” Leon sounds amused, pulling the title out of the box before handing it to you.

You shrug, flipping the case over in your hand, honestly having no idea what the movie is about or what you’re getting yourself into. You just want him to pick a damn movie and get on with it. He’s always been like this, indecisive and hesitant about most things—you’ve always been the opposite, headstrong and impulsive. Yet, the two of you have always been tied together with a gold thread of string, your mother likes to say so, anyway.

You and Leon. Leon and You. An apple and an orange, not the same yet still belonging side by side.

It’s Leon’s voice that pulls you back to the present, taking the case from your hands before he cracks it open and insert the disc it into the silver DVD player. The screen flickers to life, and you quit chasing the DVD logo with your gaze as it bounces across the screen to fish for the TV remote as Leon joins you on the couch. 

He sits at the opposite end, and you’re acutely aware of the distance he’s put between the both of you. You’re not surprised at how your heart sinks at the implications of his actions.

Leon finds the remote before you do, silence settling over the room like thick fog as he flicks through the DVD menu. You will yourself not to get too freaked out by the eerie music or the haunting silhouette of the girl pressed against the screen.

“I didn’t think you liked horror movies,” Leon muses, not really meeting your gaze as he flicks through to press play. “Most people I know say it’s not all that great but—” And he rambles. God, he rambles and you want to kiss his stupid mouth shut.

The first thirty minutes of the movie are slow but not short of horrifying. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or frustrated when all Leon does is talk about SFX or behind the scene cuts, or how they did this and how they did that —endearingly sweet in a way that makes your heart flutter. You’re semi-grateful for the distraction.

He’s a sweetheart in every sense of the word, asking if you’re okay after you startle from a jumpscare. Partially annoyed until you realise he’s not even teasing you. You find it twice as sweet, though, when you notice him all but staring at you in your periphery.

Charming blue eyes that set you a little more on edge.

“The movie’s on the screen, not my face,” You tease, finally meeting his gaze when you glance back at him, kicking him across the couch playfully. 

He swallows, praying for the upteenth time that you don’t notice the burning of his skin he feels at getting caught, before he glances back at you.

“I mean, I think I’d much rather look at you than the movie,” He shoots back, the honesty in his voice surprising even himself.

The air leaves his lungs the moment you turn to look at him, nearly giving yourself whiplash. Leon’s sure he should find this moment awkward, scary, any number of things, but he’s too distracted. You’re so tempting, sweet doll eyes, lashes that kiss your cheeks as you smile at him, and again, he finds himself starstruck. 

Your gaze holds his for a moment longer than it should, a gentle tilt of your head and he’s done for. The teasing smile lingering on your lips slips into something softer, the room feels smaller, the space between you even more so. 

“You alright?” You hum, you’re not even sure what you’re saying, you can’t hear your own voice over the blood thrumming in your ears.

Leon doesn’t really hear you either, he tries to, he does, but then your gaze drops to his lips and— God, is this happening? He’d ask you to pinch him if his voice wasn’t stuck in his damn throat.

You search his face, trying to find any hint of jest, but all you see is the way his eyes linger on you, tracing the curves of your lips, the line of your jaw. For the first time in a long time you find yourself nervous to kiss a boy. There’s a current between you, energy fizzling in a way that pricks your skin—fireworks, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Before you can give yourself the chance to second guess it, you close the distance, your lips brushing against his. His breath hitches, and you smile against his lips, a gentle hand cupping his jaw, curling into his soft hair. The rest of the room drowns out, all he can hear is his heart beating in his ears and all he can feel is the flush of his own skin and you. Impossibly close in a way that’s already got him hook, line and sinker.

The kiss immediately and successfully turns Leon’s brain to mush, letting out a shaky breath as you incline your head, a soft groan falling past your lips and tumbling into his. Your shoulders drop, another arm looping around his neck. It’s a lot at once, your body against his, the thrumming of his heart, the way he tries desperately not to fuck up the kiss, or give away that he hasn’t exactly had much experience in this department at all.

Leon only realises he’s still rigid when you pull away, your breath a hot puff of air against his face. He thinks you must’ve laughed, cheeks heating up, but then his eyes flutter open and you’ve got a look on your face that he can’t place. Your hand smooths down the golden locks of his hair.

“Are you nervous?” Your voice is so impossibly soft.

Leon blushes deeper. “Is it obvious?”

“A little,” You smile.

“I don’t– I haven’t–” He stutters, the words coming out a jumbled mess that makes your heart ache a little.

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” You rush to reassure when you realise what must be going through his mind. “Just… follow my lead, yeah?”

He nods, tight lipped then.

Your laugh is sticky sweet, alluring in a way that makes him feel all too light-headed. You lean in again, “Relax.”

He lets out a breath, and you take the opportunity of his parted lips to deepen the kiss properly, the muscle of your tongue flattening out against his bottom lip. Leon lets out a strangled moan—fireworks burst across your skin for the second time.

“You can hold me,” You mumble against his mouth, hands tightening in his hair. “If it’ll make you less nervous.”

Leon swallows thickly, nodding as his nose brushes against yours, lips already red and aching. One of his hands tentatively moves back into your hair, he tilts his head, trying to deepen the kiss the same way you had. His movements are albeit clumsy, uncertain; betraying his inexperience, but there’s a raw sincerity in his attempt that leaves you charmed. Slowly, he slides down against the sofa, pulling you with him, his body sinks into the cushions until he’s lying down, your body resting atop his.

You want more, more, more . Want to press your tongue to the seam of his lips, part them, taste him properly—you almost do, growing just as eager as he is as you push yourself higher atop him, bracketing his waist with your thighs as you press your lips to his harder. 

Your nose knocks his glasses askew when moving your head, and you feel him tense ever-so underneath you, as if realising it at the same time, and you can sense his confidence wavering.

You pull back just an inch then, he all but groans in protest. His nose bumps against yours, lips parted and eager for more. “Slow down,” You giggle. “M’not going anywhere.”

“Sorry,” He mumbles, his voice laced with embarrassment. The warmth from his blush radiates under your palm.

Without missing another beat, you reach up to carefully slide his glasses off his face. Leon blinks up at you. He looks like he’s short-circuited, giving way to a vulnerability that makes your heart ache. 

“There,” you whisper, folding the frames before setting the glasses atop the coffee table. “How’s that?”

You’re cruel, though, don’t give him a moment to gather his thoughts, let alone respond. It’s a bit of cat and mouse to you; tease, tease, tease. Gve in just a little, pull away a little more. 

You’re pressing your lips back to his again before another moment can pass. But Leon doesn’t protest; how could he when you’re so close, your bodies pressed together like this?

Leon’s confidence grows with each swipe of your tongue against his. His hands grow bolder, they move over your shoulder blades, down your spine, pressing against the curve of your back. A soft groan tumbles from your lips, your hips pushing down against his, he lets out a shaky moan in kind.

Cute, cute, cute. You’d drown in the soft sounds that tumble from his lips given the chance.

Your hands begin to wander, trailing down his chest, over his beating heart. You rub circles against his chest, as if to satiate the burning desire that’s stuck between his ribs. 

Your lips, on the other hand, begin their descent.

You start with the corner of his mouth, then you follow the line of his jaw, down the column of his neck, the divot of his throat (that rewards you with a mewl). You decorate his collar in a blossoming painting of delicate bruises, tug down the collar of his shirt enough to reveal as much skin as possible for your lips to work over.

A soft smile curls on your lips even as you kiss him, and you realise with a flicker of amusement that he’s shaking beneath you—It’s an endearing quiver, like a newborn fawn finding its first footing. His hands tighten in the fabric of your shirt, holding on as if trying to anchor himself.

“You okay?” You hum as you pull away, Leon assumes you’re gracing him with a breather before he registers your hands working his shirt up his body. 

It’d be rude to let you do all the work, so he shifts enough to tug it over his own head, discarding it on the floor of your theatre room bathed in blue—the movie long forgotten.

Leon’s large hands settle back against the swell of your hips, his thumb runs over the bone of your hip through the fabric of your shorts. He gives you a gentle nod. “M’alright,” He mumbles, but his voice has grown thick, stuck in the cavern of his throat.

“Do you… want to keep going?” You ask softly, your voice is tentative, as if dipping your toes into the deep end, testing the waters.

His mind screams yes, he settles for a “ Please ,” that comes out shakier than he’d like instead.

Your hands make quick work, moving down to undo the button of his jeans, fumbling clumsily in the wake of your excitement that you try incredibly hard to school. For the most part you do, refusing to cave too fast.

You’re acutely aware this is Leon’s first time—he doesn’t have to tell you, you can tell by his shaky voice, and shaky hands, by the way he looks at you as if you’ve just about hung the stars and the planets. To be fair, he’s always looked at you like that. Something akin to a sweet puppy.

Jesus Christ, you’re losing it.

When you finally pop the button, tug the zipper down achingly slow, Leon mewls, his hand on your hip curling into your flesh bruisingly. Fuck.

Your gaze meets his once again. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna go slow, okay? You’ve gotta tell me to stop if you don’t like anything, alright?” As desperate as you are to get your hands on him, you’d never forgive yourself if you ruined his first time.

Leon nods like he’s on autopilot, dutifully, as if the idea of you ruining anything for him is a stupid one. “Yeah, I will– Just, please, ” His voice grows impossibly quiet, “Don’t think I can wait–”

God. You go a little lightheaded.

Your hands make quick work of his jeans then, pushing them down along with his boxers. You’re blessed with a heavenly sight. His cock, pretty and flushed and all but drooling. It’s nearly erotic, has your head swimming. 

“Jesus, Leon.” You huff, eyes wide as you look back up to meet his gaze.

Leon swallows thickly, throat bobbing as his eyes bore into yours, blown wide, rings of blue barely visible. God what a sight. He doesn’t respond, can’t. His throat is thick with something he cannot place. You’re a vision to him like this—hair spilling over your shoulders, framing your head like a halo, thick eyelashes that flutter sweetly down at him. His cheeks heat, neck growing impossibly hot. 

Your hands dance over his stomach, his abdomen, tracing the contours of his skin as you watch his face to gauge each reaction, each shiver, every tremble of his lips.

You’re cruel, you’re so impossibly cruel and, oh— Nevermind. You’re an angel.

You giggle at his blissed out expression as your hand curls around the base of his dick. “That what you needed?” 

Leon’s eyes flutter shut, head tips back as your hand inches up. He resists the urge to buck right into the tunnel of your palm. “Mmhmm…”

“Can’t speak now either?” You coo sweetly.

Something soft bubbles up past his throat, a mewl, a whine, you don’t know what to call it, but God does it make your cunt flutter in time with your heart. “C’mon, Leon, let me hear you.”

And God does he.

You pull whimper after whimper from his pretty lips, tumbling out like prayer each time. You are the chappel he worships at, the altar where he falls to his feet. He thinks if he died like this he could be happy, would go willingly, accept his fate—

“D’you want… more?” The words echo around in his skull.

He couldn’t have nodded faster. 

You’re both giddy and giggling as you pull away, his hands eager as they pull your shorts and underwear off at once. If you could memorise the way he looked at you right now, you would. Leon’s eyes rove over your thighs, the space between them that glistens, in a way that makes you shy despite the hesitance in his own. 

“You’re pretty,” He says thickly, and there’s not a tease behind his words, not a jest. He says them with such sincerity you stutter to a halt. 

You blink, caught in his gaze. Leon watches you carefully, his own eyes wide, as if he’s not sure whether he’s overstepped some invisible boundary. The heat in your cheeks burns a little brighter, and you find yourself instinctively breaking eye contact, glancing away to gather yourself.

His words feel as if they’ve lodged themself in between the left and right ventricles of your heart. Suddenly, you feel the need to close the distance again, your hand slipping to cup his face, brushing a thumb over the flush of his cheek. 

He hums against your lips, hands climbing up your back, under your shirt, slipping under the strap of your bra. 

Your hips are gentle, moving over his instinctively, like something written into your DNA. The subtle brush over the underside of his length has him gasping—you preen internally at the reaction.

But you’re impatient, as impatient as he is, eager for more, eager to take, eager to please. You sink down over him slowly, revel in the silky stretch you’re graced with, moaning around his tongue as your heart feels like it’ll burst out of your chest.

The feeling is near incandescent to Leon, his mind already too far gone. 

“Eyes open, baby,” Your voice comes, shattering the haze of his mind. 

Baby, baby, baby.

He’s hardwired to comply.

You’re something holy above him, head crested by the glow of the moon spilling through the windows, wings of starlight, angel-song falling from your lips as your hips move over his. He wants to swallow each sound. You have the grace to let him.

Your body presses to his as you lean down, chasing his lips in a kiss that surely rewires his brain chemistry. Each moan you let out is like honey in his mouth, sweet and addicting, his tongue pushes past your lips, seeking out as much as you’ll give him.

You’re ecstasy. Entirely too addicting; Leon can’t get enough. Each time you sink down on him again, he’s sure it steals more breath from his lungs. And with earth-shattering realisation, he knows he’s not going to last. “M’close.”

He’s puppy-dog cute like this, pout on his lips, a cinch between his eyebrows that you smooth with your thumb. “I can tell.”

His hand moves to where yours are on his chest, taking one in his own, intertwining your fingers. It’s so fucking over for you. 

“I can’t—” His hips buck up into yours, but his movements are reserved, you clock his desperation to hold out immediately.

“God, Leon, please do. I want you to.”

It doesn’t take much longer than that. He comes within three, four, five ruts of your hips against his, a warning on his lips before you pull off him and his release coats the muscles of his abdomen. You’re left aching, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind, not when you have him underneath you like this.

“Shit, God,” He groans. “That was… fast.”

You sense the apology on his tongue and shake your head before he can get there.

“No, don’t. It was… it was good.”

Leon can’t believe his ears. It was good? He did good?

“Yeah?” You hear the anticipation in his voice, higher at the end, a question.

Smiling, you nod. “Uhuh. Plus, we can… Work on it.”

The implication of doing this again sometime is enough to have him mirroring your smile. 

But soon summer’s over and college is starting. You decide to take a year off, figure yourself out. 

But Leon’s always had big dreams. Before you know it he’s packed his life into boxes, ready to move across the country to California. You can’t lie to yourself forever, pretend that what you feel for him is superficial, that you won’t miss him with a longing that will linger for months.

Your heart aches the night before he leaves. His head on your stomach, looking up at you with those puppy dog sweet eyes, half lidded and hair mused from where you’d grabbed and tugged while he’d lapped at your sweet cunt all night.

“I’m gonna miss you,” The words slip out softly, surprising even yourself. Lately, you’ve found vulnerability escaping you more often around him. A tenderness you’re learning to grow used to again.

Leon’s gaze lifts to yours, sweet baby blues that you try to memorise even in the low light of your bedroom. “I’ll visit.”

“I know.”

There’s a sickening silence that follows. You ache to tell him everything, pour your heart out for him to pick up, but you don’t.

Leon promises to call you as soon as he gets to his new dorm, and he does. For the first few months, everything goes smoothly. You and Leon fall back into that regular routine—you call him every now and then, he updates you on his day, you tell him about yours. But as fate has it, the chasm between the two of you begins to split once more, you feel him drift away, caught up in his flashy new life. 

Turns out distance does make the heart grow fonder.

There are things Leon doesn’t tell you either. Like how he’s been binge-watching those awful horror movies you always mention nowadays (you’ve developed a weird fondness for the gore). Or that he’s started tutoring again. Or that he wishes you were here. God, he really wants to tell you that last one.

He thinks of you all the time, even when he probably shouldn’t—between classes, during his morning coffee before the 8 a.m. lab, while driving from his part-time job to campus. He thinks of you in the inbetweens, when his mind seems to wander. The thoughts come unbidden, when there’s a million other things he should have at the forefront of his mind, you’re there.

And then there’s the way he pictures you every time.

Leon’s not exactly proud of the number of hook-ups he’s had since college. One party turned into two, then three, then four. Simple drinking games blurred into long nights with countless girls underneath him who he now doesn't even remember the faces of.

Convinced if he shut his eyes, if he really focused, he could imagine it was you whimpering under him instead, your hands on his body, your lips melding around his name oh so perfectly.

It was never the same though. Never would be.

None of these girls sounded like you, none of them fucked like you, none of them felt like you did. Like they were made for him, like he could get lost in their cunts forever. It was pathetic, really, the way he’d so willingly chase that unmatchable high forever. Nothing would compare. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

So by the time semester break rolls around, he’s already packed his bags, and the four hour route from California back to Raccoon City has been set before he’s even finished his finals.

Raccoon hasn’t changed, still the same sleepy city tucked away between twin mountain ranges, the smell of pine heavy in the air. His house is how he left it, so is his neighbourhood. He drives by the familiar faded sign of Emmy’s Diner, the Police Department with its big white hollywood-style letters and rusting iron gates.

He heard that you work at the new video store down the road from his house now. Flashy, neon signs and all. Leon wonders what it’s been like for you, staying behind when he left for college, how the city has cradled you in its unchanged arms. If you’ve missed him like he’s missed you.

He pushes the glass panelled door to the video store open, the store bell tinkling in wake of his arrival. He’s fidgety. Leon hasn’t been fidgety in a very long time. He does not remember the last time he hesitated around a girl. Well, he does, it was you when he was awkward and nineteen, but since then? It has been a long road. Too long.

But then he spots you, and it’s as if the world narrows down to this one moment.

You’re leaning against the counter, eyes downcast, lazily flipping through a magazine. The overhead lights catch the strands of your hair—it’s shorter now. He wonders when you had it cut, why you chose the new style. A part of him aches, realising just how much time has passed, how long a year can be when he’s not in your orbit.

Without thinking, he beelines for the horror section, eyes scanning the rows of movie titles as his fingers brush over each DVD spine. He glances at you out of his periphery, half-watching the way you absentmindedly flip through your magazine.

Come on, come on, come on.

H, I, J, K… 

Bingo.

He slides Kairo across the counter, heart stumbling in his chest. You don’t even glance up as you take it into your hands, half-focused on whatever glossy pages have your interest, but you do smile when you register the title in your hands.

“Good choice,” you hum, your fingers already moving to punch the movie code into the register.

“Yeah? You think so?” His voice is a little rougher than he intended, but he presses on, tries to act casual as he leans up against the counter. In honesty, he feels like a dork. “Most people I know say it’s not all that great…”

Your fingers freeze over the buttons. That voice, those words. Your eyes shoot up to meet his. 

“Leon?”

“Hey.” He smiles, catching the way your expression shifts, disbelief melting into something warmer. “What’s wrong? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You laugh suddenly, that bright, familiar sound, filling the empty space between you. For a moment the months apart don’t seem so long. “God, you did not just quote Scream at me.”

Leon’s dusty blonde hair falls into his eyes as he drops his head to hide his grin. “Yeah that was… Not my best.”

Shaking your head, you slide the DVD back across the counter, still smiling beautifully at him.  “You didn’t tell me you were going to be back in town!” You sound breathless as the words escape you.

“Just for the semester break,” He says, his voice steady but soft. “Figured I’d come back before you forgot what I look like.”

You blink. Something in his expression must’ve given him away, because then you smile—small, almost shy. “I missed you too,” you hum, and the words hang in the air like they’ve been waiting to be said.

But just like that you bounce back, as if the vulnerability in your tone was never even there at all, drumming your fingers across the countertop. “You shoulda told me, we could’ve planned something nice.”

“Oh, like a date?”

You blush. Blush. Fuck. You don’t remember him being this forward.

“Are you suggesting something, Kennedy?” You tilt your head, honeyed gaze and all.

Damn you and those fucking eyes, he thinks.

“Well, I was thinking… maybe we could go to Emmy’s after your shift? You know, catch up, and I can tell you all the terrible jokes I’ve collected since I’ve been away.”

Your smile widens, and there’s something in your eyes that makes him feel like he might’ve just found his way back home. “I’d like that, Leon. A lot.”

Emmy’s diner hums with a life that he’s missed. The sound of casual conversation, plates clattering, the soft croon of Bob Dylan from the old jukebox. It’s how he left it. Same peeling leather booths, linoleum tables, vinyl floorings, bottomless pots of coffee and the smell of sizzling burgers over the griddle in the back. 

You share a booth at the back, your boots propped up on the round metal base of the table while you watch Leon with a small pout as he stands by the counter, waiting for a takeout box. The old fluorescent lights cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the little changes—slightly broader shoulders, a more defined jawline, longer hair, no glasses. But he’s still your Leon.

When he turns back, takeaway box in hand, he catches you in the act—a fry pinched between your fingers, dragging it through his ketchup in lazy swirls. You beam up at him, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and Leon feels his chest do a violent lurch, feels his heart rattle in the cage of his ribs, clawing to jump out and into your waiting hands.

It’s the kind of smile that would have driven him crazy when he was younger—when he was all nerves and stuttered words around you. And God, if it doesn’t still have the same effect.

“You know,” Leon starts as he settles into his seat, “there’s a fine line between sharing and stealing. You’re definitely crossing it.”

You roll your eyes, pushing the fry basket back towards him in a silent peace offering. “You weren’t going to finish them anyway.”

Leon chuckles softly, he doesn’t know what to say then, no witty quip on his tongue or eager reply.  “It's about the principle," His voice finally comes, something soft. "But I guess I’ll let it slide this once." 

You laugh, and the sound is like a balm, soothing the ache in his chest. “How generous of you,” you reply, playing footsies with him under the table. It’s in this moment Leon realises, everything he’s ever wanted is right in front of him. He’s spent so much of his life chasing. Chasing, chasing, chasing, he’s always been chasing. 

Now he thinks he’d like to slow down.

And that’s what he does, when he takes you home that night, you twirl through the door of his old home, giddy as you track the familiar path to his bedroom. It’s how you remember it, same posters on the wall, same black Paul Reed Smith tucked into the corner.

Leon, however, is so much gentler than you remember him being, careful hands sliding up your waist as he walks you back towards his bed. Your calves hit the edge, breath caught in your throat as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. His lips find yours, slot perfectly, he groans against your lips and you melt into his embrace.

Leon’s palm slides down to the underside of your thigh, lifts it up enough to help you back onto the bed. 

Your words get caught in your throat, but they’re not needed—not now, not with Leon. He’s always known you like the back of his hand. His lips move over your face, your cheek, your jaw. Your arms settle around his neck.

It’s like muscle memory to Leon now, the way he slots his knee between your thighs, how his hands move over your torso, up your body.

Your mind wanders—a dangerous thing in times like these—and you find yourself growing a little jealous. You're not dense; you know he’s probably had other girls in his bed between his time away in California. You wonder if they were any good. 

Leon doesn’t let you dwell on those thoughts, has your voice catching in your throat as his fingers tease the underside of your breasts. He looks up at you, those same deep blue eyes studying you, yet unreadable all the same. Your skin burns beneath his gentle touch. Hot, hot, hot everywhere he touches.

One of his hands come up to cup the same cheek he had kissed earlier, his touch featherlight. He looks at you—part adoring, part like he’s planning your ruination.

“Leon… Please. ” You beg desperately then, and in response he groans. As if he’s waited too long to hear you say his name like that again, all needy and breathless.

“Makes me wanna wreck you,” He murmurs against your mouth, his breath hot and heady, “when you talk like that. So fuckin’ sweet.”

And God if that doesn’t do it for you. A whine falls past your lips, eager, tender, desperate, and Leon’s sure he’s never heard anything as beautiful in his life.

Your skirt is off in a flash, so is his shirt, then yours, then his jeans, so on and so forth until your bare cunt is pressing against his thigh he’s conveniently slotted back between the apex of your legs. He presses his knee up against your wet cunt, mutual groans filling his bedroom. All it takes is a tremble of your lips, and Leon’s kissing you twice as hard.

“Tell me what you need,” He’s eager to please.

“You.” You, you, you, always you.

There’s a reverence in your words he cannot shake, a promise laced into the moan that tumbles from your lips. His hands smooth over your abdomen again, spreading your thighs wider to accommodate him in the space between.

“Yeah?” He hums, one of his hands runs from the corner of your jaw to your chin, the other gives a purposeful squeeze to your waist. “I need you too. Want you.”

The sincerity in his voice floors you, hits you harder than any kiss, any touch. This isn’t just lust, this is Leon, raw and open, offering you something more than you’d expected. Something you’ve always wanted but were too scared to admit. You feel the sudden sting of tears kiss the corners of your eyes, startling yourself. 

“Leon…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. He cuts you off with a gentle kiss, one that’s soft and sweet, filled with a promise that leaves you breathless.

"You’re it for me. I’m yours," he whispers into your mouth. "If you’ll have me."

Your heart stumbles over itself, caught somewhere between disbelief and a feeling you’re not sure how to put into words. “I’ve always had you.”

He laughs softly then, “Yeah. Guess you have, huh?”

It’s now, he realises, you’d never left his orbit in the first place. You’d always been there, one way or another, a constant in his life he’d never be able to shake despite how hard he’d try. You really are it for him.

“I want you too,” You blurt, the words tumbling out too fast. “I want this, want you. I always have.”

The rest is unsaid. He kisses you again with a smile, your hands drift over his back, trace the contours of every plane of muscle, press against the space between his shoulders. His hands run over the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waists, caress the skin of your thighs and leave gooseflesh in their wake. You can’t stand it—how utterly gentle he is. It makes you want to cry.

You take Leon’s hand, leading it down to where you need him most. With precision you drag his fingers up through your folds, tantalisingly slow before pressing the pad of his index to your clit. You let out the softest of whimpers at the sight, his hand on your cunt. Fuck. You don’t take your eyes off the sight before you, even as you push his fingers back down, until you slip just the tip of his finger past your walls.

Your gaze flicks up to gauge his reaction, and you're more than pleased at the sight before you. Leon Kennedy, his eyes wide, mouth hung open in a small ‘o’, like he’s never seen pussy before.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You hum, amusement dripping from your lips—but your voice comes out in between panted breathes, unable to still your thump, thump, thumping heart.

He looks back up to meet your gaze, shaking his head as a grin stretches across his lips. “No, sweetheart, don’t play your games with me.” He huffs, withdrawing his hand, leaving you whining, before he pushes your thigh up to your chest.

You’re disappointed by just how fast he manages to school himself, no longer desperate for more, now invested in the waiting game.

“You want it that bad?” He croons, voice a teasing lilt against the shell of your ear, kissing the skin behind it as his body comes back down over yours. Your leg hooks around his back, hands on his shoulders, in his hair. 

“Are you gonna make me beg?” Your laugh is soft, breathlessly incredulous.

He grins against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

His lips trail a path from neck to collar, tender kisses that intensify into bruising hickeys so fast your head swims. He litters your chest in lovebites, his hand moving on its own accord as he presses two fingers against your sopping cunt. He teases you, drawing circles around your entrance, grinning against the valley of your breast as he kisses down your sternum when your cunt flutters against his hand.

He drags his fingers up, up, up, presses them to the bead of your clit in a way that makes you squirm, another round of featherlight circles that makes you keen.

“Leon, holy shit—” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, watching as he sinks his fingers into your cunt, right down to the knuckle.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You don’t have to look at him to hear the shit eating grin in his words.

The pads of his fingers press against ribbed flesh, scissoring you open. When he pulls them back out, palm against your clit, a moan bubbles up past your lips. He shushes you, sweet nothings whispered against the cavern of your throat. 

His hand, glimmering with your arousal, finds its way to your lips. “Open,” He murmurs, and so you do, lips parted for his fingers to press curiously against your tongue. Your heart hammers in your chest, thighs pressing into his sides as you blink up at him. You’re beautiful like this, a picture of pleasure that he wants to sear into his mind, brand across his heart so he won’t forget. 

You moan around his fingers and his heart stutters pitifully in his chest, he needs to hear you like that again. “Want more, sweetheart?” His voice is rough as he pushes his hips against yours teasingly, has your eyes fluttering shut and rolling back. “Need words, baby.”

Leon chuckles as you struggle to speak around his fingers pressing to your tongue, a muffled yeah caught in your throat. He placates your whine that follows with a kiss to the underside of your jaw, lining his hips up with yours as he goes.

He sinks in as deep as he can get, searing hot, like he’s desperate to melt through, skin to skin, atom to atom. You push back, chasing that same euphoric feeling, a groan falling from your lips as you choke around his thick fingers in your mouth. You twist your neck, your nose pushing into his cheek as you seek his warmth.

“Got you,” He mumbles into your skin, voice ragged. A forearm is braced by your head before he pulls his hand from your mouth, moving to hold your body. His hand presses into the gentle curve of your waist like it was made for the palm of his hands. Smearing your spit across your skin as he goes.

When Leon’s with you like this, your body beneath his, he’s so sure this is how it’s meant to be. God, you’re perfect in every sense of the word—surely this is fate’s crashing course, isn’t it? Driven together by some higher power, an invisible thread of gold looped around both your fingers.

Has to be, surely. Feels too good when his hips push into yours, shared moans tumbling from both your lips, when his lips find yours once more and he’s swallowing each one like a man starved. You’ve missed the way he feels, how he stretches you out so deliciously, fills you up and seats deep inside you like he’s made for it. 

Your hands on his shoulders blades dig burning half-moon crests into his skin, dragging your nails down his back, eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest.

“Shit, pussy’s fuckin’ made for me,” He all but groans into your ear, dick pushing in at a steady pace, sickeningly slow in a way that makes you ache.

Please, please, please, your mind screams, begging for him to hurry up, give you more. You’ve waited so long to have him like this again, why should you wait any longer?

Leon’s laugh vibrates against the shell of your ear, “Beggin’ already, sweetheart?”

Oh. You’ve said it out loud.

“Don’t tease,” You plead with him.

“Tease? No m’not teasing, that’d be cruel,” He croons, “M’just taking my time with my baby.”

You want to sob. God, he is cruel. You think this must be karma for all those times you’d teased him when you were younger, worked him so close to the edge then pulled him away—

But then his hips slam against yours and a sob lurches from your throat. “Leon!” You cry, nails digging deeper into his back you worry you might draw blood.

“God, just look at you, sweetheart,” He pulls back enough to meet your gaze, hand on your hip moving to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “Crying on my dick. Fuck. ”

His hips are bruising, not an ounce of mercy in the way he ruts into your cunt.

“Can’t,” You whine, tears in your eyes.

He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, obstructing your pretty view, as his hand cups your jaw. “Yeah you can, baby.”

“No, it’s– too much—” You try to get him to understand, you won’t last like this.

He knows before the words even leave your lips. “Aw, pretty baby, gonna come f’me already?” 

More tears spill from your eyes, he kisses them away with gentle lips, almost humorously different from the pace of his hips. “That’s okay,” He decides, “You wanna come now, that’s fine. Jus’ means you gotta keep taking it till I'm done.”

You’re so fucked.

“Can you do that, sweetheart?”

In the haze of your mind you comply.

“Good girl,” You arch your back at the praise, he slips in deeper if that’s even possible. “Good girl, come for me. Let me see you.”

Who are you to deny him?

You come with a soft cry of his name, words sticky with the tightness of your throat, a babbling mess underneath him as he works you through it. He’s not a complete dickhead though, he slows down to accommodate the ache between your legs, gives you a moment to collect yourself as his hand moves to interlock with yours, holding it by your head.

“How was that?” He asks you on the comedown. 

You’re burning bright, you feel like the sun, your heart ablaze in your chest. Your mind is left in a haze, and when it ebbs away, it’s as though sunspots linger in your vision. You look at him, really look at him now, rings of blue in his blown out eyes, hair tousled, lips red and raw. 

You kiss him in lieu of a proper response, tongue and teeth, messy and desperate as your hands hold his face. He groans against your mouth, you feel his dick pulse between your tight walls and you preen internally. Even after all this time you still have him wrapped around your finger.

You giggle at the thought, drowning in the gilding golden haze of the pleasure he’s given you.

“What’s so funny?” He hums, smile sweet on his lips. 

“Nothin’,” You hum, eyes half-lidded.

He grins a little wider, something cunning. “Come again, sweetheart, didn’t quite catch that.” His hips roll into yours, a moan falls past your lips.

“I said– Oh. ” Nevermind.

Another roll of his hips.

“Speak up, baby,” Another, another, another.

You give up trying to get any words out, fruitless attempts reduced to whimpers as you melt into the mattress below him. Your hands wander back over his back, shoulder blades and muscles shifting under your palms as you sooth the ridges that have emerged from where you’d left your stinging mark.

You're tight as sin, sucking him back in salaciously. Leon’s not going to last much longer at all. 

He makes as much known. He whines and you swallow each sound like it’s a sweet prize. His hips snap into yours at a brutal pace, whimpers falling from your lips at each time he drives it home. He has half the mind to pull out, but then your legs are wrapping around his waist, trapping him, keeping him firm in place.

“Sweetheart– fuck , baby–” His words carry the weight of protest but you’re stubborn, always have been.

“ Please Leon?” You’re so sweet, aren’t you? “Want it inside, want you to come in me pretty please–?”

He couldn’t say no to you if he tried. “Shit, that’s what you want, baby? Huh? Need me to fill you up real good?” His voice is low in your ear, a bark that matches his bite.

“ Yes. ”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, I’ll give you what you need, alright?” He placates, and you’re sweet as you mewl in response. “Yeah, anything you want.”

“M’so close,” He’s brought you to tears again, and this time he lets himself relish in the sight of them dribbling down your cheeks. “So close–”

Leon’s thrusts grow shallow with time, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy once more. “Let me feel you, baby,” He mumbles into the skin of your shoulder, his hand gripping yours in a knuckle white grip, the other so tight around your hip it’s sure to leave behind bruises in the morning.

Not a thing you’re saying is comprehensible anymore, slurred words sobbed into the crook of his neck as your cunt does the talking for you. You flutter around his aching length, clamping down around him as the pressure building at the base of your spine snaps in half, a broken cry of his name tumbling from your lips.

Leon reaches his breaking point in quick pursuit, tumbling over that edge just as you do, fucking his release deeper into your cunt. “So sweet, so sweet, so sweet,” He chants, a babbling mess of emotions as you milk him dry. “So good, s’good, baby, fuck. ”

For a few moments, you are nothing but two bodies, twined together, panting and huffing as you catch your breaths. Leon’s hand, still in yours, squeezes reflexively. His face falls into the crook of your neck as his fingers dig further into the flesh of your waist. You hear his breathing grow ragged, his body trembling above you. You think you hear a whine slip past his lips, only solidified when he pulls back and you catch the glassy look in his eyes. 

“We should do this again sometime.” You grin playfully.

“Jesus, Sweetheart.” Leon shakes his head, wet chuckle caught in his throat. “I plan on doing this a lot more often than sometimes. ”

You hum, your knuckles tracing the curve of his cheek before you sweep his hair out of his eyes. “I’d like that.”

There’s a pause then, words hanging in the air. “But at least let me get it right this time. I’ll take you out to dinner, how’s that?”

“Perfect.”

"I meant it, you know." His voice is quieter now, more vulnerable. "About wanting to get it right." He looks at you like he's seeing everything he's been chasing, right in front of him.

You tilt your head, a soft smile playing at your lips. "I know."

Fate is curious, you think—tugging at the golden threads that make up the spider's web of your universe as she pleases, weaving people together and pulling them apart with equal ease. You realise, as you lie with your head on Leon’s chest later that night, that fate has been kind to you. Leon's strong arm envelops you, grounding you in a way only he ever has. Home is inbetween his arms. You listen to the gentle beat of his heart, steady in his chest, pounding beneath your ear. 

Without much thought, you find yourself holding your breath, syncing the thump of your heart with the beat of his, a satisfied smile curving your lips when your breathing finally falls perfectly in time.

likes n reblogs r very much appreciated <3

[musickgeek]

Happy (SDV Sebastian x Farmer!Reader)

945 words, unedited

Warnings: None

The first time you'd met Sebastian was the first Friday after your arrival in Pelican Town. You saw him bent over the pool table, lining up his shot. Your face got hot, and butterflies flew in your stomach. He looked so at peace, in his element. The small smile on his lips, and comfortable stance he took up. You were wondering how to introduce yourself, but Sam, who you'd met earlier in the day, waved you over. Nervous, you tried to walk over as casually as possible, brushing dirt and dust off your clothes. "Hey (Y/n), these are my friends Abigail, and Sebastian." Sebastian makes a shot, knocking a few of his balls into the pockets. Sam frowns, but quickly refocuses on introductions. He bumps Sebastian's shoulder with his own, almost teasing. "Sebastian, this is the new farmer girl." 

The dark haired boy looked at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Oh. You just moved in, right?" You nodded. "Cool." He pauses for a moment, as if thinking about it. "Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” You couldn't help the small laugh that came out. "I know it seems small and confining, but for me, some of the best memories of my life were made here with my grandfather." He nodded thoughtfully, accepting the answer. You found him to be so pretty, it almost embarrassed you. You'd just met the man for Yoba's sake! Oh well, you'd already decided you wanted to get to know him better.

~~~~~

You tried to speak to him every day, trying to figure out the things he liked. What do boys like him like? You came to an easy conclusion while in the mines. When you found a little piece of clear crystal. "You may think it's not much, but when in the right light," you moved it into the sun to show off how it glimmered, "it shows it's true worth." Just like him, you decided. And so your ventures into the mines became more frequent, finding colorful gems and crystals that Sebastian might like. 

You would walk in the house, scuffed up and dirty, but smiling widely. Robin would look at you strangely. You'd greet her cheerfully like you weren't bleeding and bruised before disappearing down the stairs to her sons room. She was confused for weeks until Sebastian asked her to build a shelf for him to display the fruits of your labor. 

~~~~~

"You know, I'm starting to think you're obsessed with me." He teased one Friday, you guys walking to the saloon together. "In your dreams!" It wasn't you fault, you thought. He was the one who plagued your mind with a late night motorcycle ride a few nights before. You found him working on his bike, and he suggested brining you along on time. You said you were scared, to which he promised to keep you safe. That moment played in your mind over and over like a broken record. You'd become a little clingier, and the fact that he'd noticed startled you. His phone chimed, luckily changing the subject. He frowned, and you asked what had happened.

"Sam isn't coming by tonight. He hurt himself on his skateboard earlier, and is stuck with Harvey tonight." Little did either of you know, it was a crafted lie designed by Sam and Abby to get you guys to hang out. "Do you know how to play pool?" 

"I get the idea, but I've never actually played. I don't know how to execute it, really." He gave his little smile that you adored. "Tonight is going to be interesting." He sped up, almost giddy at the idea of sharing his skills with you, leaving you to chase after him, laughing.

~~~~~

Your skin was on fire. His body had never been so close to yours. You could feel your face burning. You could feel his breath on your neck. His hand covered yours, his chest was pressed against your back. You could smell the woodsy scent of his room on him. To the other patrons, the act was innocent. He was just showing you how to line up a shot for pool. But to you, everything about this felt like carnal sin. You felt like you could pass out. The sound of the lively talk and music faded away, all you senses focused on him. Could he feel it too? You when for the shot, but were too distracted to make a hit. 

"You're even worse than Sam." He said, pulling away. "I'll just have to practice more." You insisted. "Oh, by the way, I found this for you." You pull the blue, teardrop shaped crystal out of your pocket. The shock on his face pleased you. He took it carefully, afraid of breaking it. "I really love this." 

"It's no big deal." You shrug. But he shakes his head, frowning deeply. "But it is, I know the lengths you have to go to for something like this, for any of the crystals you give me. You go down there all the time, risking your life just to give me some silly trinkets. I don't even understand why." Now you frown, feeling hurt. "I thought you liked them..." He realizes his mistake, and gets panicky. "No, I do, I really do! But...I like you more. Sometimes I wait at the rivers edge for you to come back. Just to know you're safe." 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. What was he saying? "I...I can handle myself, Seb. I promise. I do it because it makes you happy." He looks down, and smiles. You so badly wanted to kiss him. "(Y/n), you make me happy." 

[zegrasdrysdale]

matthew knies smut — losing ur v card to him

[ helping hand ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : Matthew helps his best friend out after she asks him to take her virginity

warning(s) : smut ! loss of virginity, virgin!reader, light dirty talk, slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it tbh) oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex, use of pet names during sex (pretty girl, baby, etc.), multiple orgasms

author’s note : felt like writing something cute so i decided to tackle this request and make it as cute as i could. this is my first time writing for kniesy so if it’s bad then pls tell me lol

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Being a 20-year-old virgin sucks. Every time she tries to hook up with a guy, she blurts out that she’s “never done this before” and it scares him away. Needless to say, she is getting very tired of being a virgin. She's loves sex, but she's never gone all the way with a guy.

Tonight was just another reminder that she's never been fucked. She thought that after her date, he'd take her back to his apartment and she'd finally lose her virginity. Then he said that his mom was going to be home soon just as things started getting heated, right after she had said that she's never gone all the way.

It's a tiring pattern.

She's frustrated, and frustration means stomping up to her longtime best friend's Toronto apartment a little before eleven. She pounds her fist on Matthew's door then waits. There are light footsteps behind the door before it's pulled open.

Matthew looks like he just woke up, and she feels bad. His Toronto hockey shirt is a little wrinkled and he's wearing sweats. His hair is a complete disaster. "Did I wake you?" she questions.

He yawns, but shakes his head no. "I was just closing my eyes," he tells her. "I thought you were out on a date or something. Why are you here?"

"You'll never guess what happened," she sighs as she walks past him into his apartment. "I did it again."

Matthew laughs and shuts the door behind her. "You need to stop," he comments. "You're never going to lose it if you keep telling guys that you haven't gone all the way. You're twenty."

"I know!" she groans as she plops down onto his couch. "It's like a get scared or something and it just comes out. I wish I could just get it over with and then it won't come out."

He sits beside her and she looks up at him. "Don't rush it," he tells her. "It's not all that anyway. Just wait until you find someone you trust and genuinely like."

A light bulb flicks on in her head. She sits up and turns her body to face Matthew. "Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Sleep with me so I'm not a virgin anymore," she finishes. He raises his eyebrows and looks like he's about to object. "I mean, I trust you with everything I have. You're my best friend. You're not bad looking. I've known you for years, Matthew. I'd be okay if you did this for me. It wouldn't change anything with us."

Matthew thinks about it. She knows by the way he sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair. "You're sure about this?" he questions. "Because I don't want to do this then-"

She rolls his eyes in frustration and cups his jaw. She pulls him into a kiss, and it surprises her when she feels her heart beat out of her chest when her lips meet his. Even Matthew is thrown off by the kiss. He immediately pulls back. She drops her hands to her lap.

"I'm not going to regret it, Matt," she tells him as her eyes meet his. Have his eyes always been this pretty and blue? She's never been this close to see how blue they are. "I promise. It might bring us closer as friends if we do this. I'm not going to stop being your friend because you slept with me."

He still doesn't seem very convinced. "This is going to change us," he tells her. "No matter what. I just want both of us to be ready for that."

With a nod, her eyes flicker down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. "I know," she replies. "Just ... please. I'll never ask you for anything ever again if you do this for me."

Matthew searches her face for any signs that she doesn't want this. He won't find any. If she's going to lose her virginity to anyone, she wouldn't mind losing it to her best friend. She wants this.

He doesn't say "okay" or anything like that. All he does is grab her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If this is what you really want then I'll do it," he says to her, voice slightly higher than a whisper.

"I really want this," she confirms. "Seriously."

His eyes drop to her lips before he leans in and gently presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter shut. Her heart beats out of her chest with how soft and gently he kisses her.

The kisses don't immediately turn heated and needy. Matthew makes sure of that. When they do though, she climbs onto his lap in the red minidress that she's wearing. She straddles his thighs and wraps her arms loosely around his neck. Matthew's hands drop to the bare skin on her thighs.

Her heels clatter to the carpeted floor beneath them with a thud. Her fingers find a home and curl in his locks. She tugs gently and a soft noise comes from Matthew. She smiles into the kiss that follows and tucks this piece of information away for later.

She traps his bottom lip between her teeth and pulls back. She watches it snap back into place. Matthew looks up at her and she sees that his eyes have darkened a bit. There's a dark fire between them and she can tell he's trying to hold himself back.

"Pretend it's not me," she tells him as her hands drag down his neck and chest until they come to a rest on his torso. She play with the hem of his t-shirt. "I can tell, Matt. You're holding back because it's me."

Matthew shakes his head. "I'm holding back because I want to do this right," he replies. "It's not because it's you. I want to make sure that it's perfect for you."

"Then don't hold back," she whispers to him as she attaches her lips to his jaw right under his ear. "It'll be perfect no matter what."

A shaky sigh passes Matthew's kiss-bruised lips. He kisses the swell of her ear and she keeps working at his jaw.

Before she realizes what's happening, Matthew slides his hands to the back of her thighs and stands up. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "It's insane how easily you were able to just pick me up like that," she comments.

"I work out everyday," Matthew replies as he makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. "Sometimes twice a day. I lay hits on grown men that weigh as much as I do or heavier for a living. I hope that I can lift someone up that is nearly a foot shorter than me and weighs less than what I bench."

She can't contain the giggle that rises in her throat as he crosses the threshold into his room. "That's kind of hot of you, Matt," she admits. "I mean, I don't know how you're single when you bench more than I weigh."

He kicks the door shut behind him and gently sets her down so she's flat on her feet. She sees the flush in his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. She smiles and gets on her tiptoes to instigate another kiss. Matthew has to lean down to kiss her because of the heigh difference between them. His hands rest on her cheeks and she rests against the door.

They stand there for what feels like an eternity. She's almost certain that the lace panties she has on under the dress are ruined. She hasn't be able to stop thinking about Matthew's fingers on her thighs while they were in the couch, not to mention the fact that he was able to pick her up with almost no effort.

Her fingers curl around the hem of his t-shirt and she pulls at it. "Off," she mumbles against his lips. "Matt, please. Off."

The kiss breaks and Matthew reaches down to pull the fabric over his head. Her eyes rake his body and it's very obvious that he works out every day. Her fingers trace his abs and she bites her bottom lip.

Okay, maybe he's more attractive than she's let herself admit. She's never really allowed herself to look at him like this. She's never let herself admire him like this.

Matthew hooks his fingers under the very thin straps that sit on her shoulders. She looks up at him and notices how focused he is on his actions. He pulls the straps off her shoulders and lets the dress fall so it pools at her ankles. She's in her strapless bra and matching panties. She notices Matthew's eyes drink her in.

She puts her hands on his chest and gently pushes him in the direction of his bed. She kicks the dress off so she can follow him. As soon as Matthew sits back on the bed, she crawls onto his lap. Her knees bracket his thighs. She leans in and ravishes his mouth with hers. One of his hands finds its way to her curls and he holds the back of her head so she can’t break the heated kiss.

Without realizing she does it, she rolls her hips against his. He hums and his other hand comes down on her bare waist.

A surge of confidence overcomes her and she reaches behind her. She unhooks her bra and lets the red lace fall between them. She tosses it somewhere at the same time Matthew breaks the kiss.

Her entire body shakes with nerves.

It’s just Matthew. They’ve been friends since his first year at Minnesota. Best friends since his sophomore year. She visited him earlier in the season and fell in love with Canada so she moved into an apartment down the street from him.

She can do this.

Matthew lifts her head up and says, “I’ve got you. Okay? I have you. Whatever you want.”

“I want you,” she tells him. “Please. I need you.”

He moves back on the bed and flips them over so he hovers over her. Her curls create a halo around her head. Matthew thumbs her swollen lips and trails it down over her chin, over her chest, between her breasts, and down her stomach until his fingers rest at the waistband of her panties. Goosebumps follow his fingers down her upper body.

She can feel the bulge in his pants so she bucks her hips up to grind her clothed core against the bulge. “Shit,” he gasps. “You can’t just do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll come before either of us are ready.”

She lets out a light laugh. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” she teases.

“Shut up,” he mumbles before shutting her up himself with a deep kiss. She smiles and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.

She pushes his sweatpants down and over his ass. He helps her out and kicks them off.

When she tries to put her hand in his boxers, Matthew stops her. He breaks the kiss and shakes his head. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I’m going to make sure you feel good and make sure you’re comfortable, okay?” he says to her.

“Okay,” she replies, voice barely above a whisper.

With her permission, Matthew hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body. He tosses them to the floor and she lets her knees fall open.

Matthew attaches his lips to her jaw, then slowly trails his lips down her body. He makes a quick stop when he gets to her breasts. He gives each one a little attention and she lets out a soft noise. She bites her lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises.

He lies on his stomach and throws her legs over his broad shoulders. She watches as he presses soft kisses to her leg trailing from her inner knee and up her inner thigh. He stops right before he gets to her core.

“Already so wet for me,” he comments. She nods and grabs a pillow to rest her head on so she doesn’t get a crick in her neck.

That’s when Matthew slides a finger through her soaked folds. A whine passes her lips and she looks down at him with her eyes. He teases her entrance and she gasps, “I- Matthew. Don’t tease please. Do something.”

“Didn’t think you were a begger, pretty girl,” he replies. She shoots him a glare and he laughs.

She’s about to say something to him when he wraps his lips around her clit. “Oh my- fuck” is what comes out of her mouth instead. Matthew hums and sends vibrations through her entire body. He slowly pushes a finger into her and her back arches off the bed.

Matthew’s free hand slides up her body and cups one of her tits. She didn’t pick Matthew to be a boob guy, but today is full of surprises.

Soft pants pass her lips as Matthew keeps using his mouth and fingers to bring her closer to an orgasm. He adds a second finger and her hands fly to his hair. Her breathing has gotten extremely labored and soft noises consistently pass her lips.

He’s so careful with his movements, so precise. He knows what he’s doing, and she’s not at all surprised that he does. She didn’t realize just how much he knew. Despite never actually hooking up before, it’s like he knows her entire body and what she likes.

Once a third finger is inside of her, Matthew curls his fingers in a “come here” motion. She gasps and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. “Matt,” she groans. “I- Matthew.”

“Let me hear you,” he tells her. “Wanna hear you when you come on my fingers. Can you do do that for me?”

She nods and hums. “Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Go ahead, pretty girl,” Matthew says. “Come for me. I can feel how close you are.”

His lips are back on her clit and she’s coming seconds later.

Her back arches off the mattress as her walls clench around his fingers. Her body turns into jelly as he fingers her through what’s probably the strongest orgasm she’s ever had. She swears she blacks out.

Her breathing is extremely labored as Matthew withdraws his fingers. She whimpers at the loss and watches him crawl up her body when her vision comes back. He smiles when he sees how out of it she probably looks.

Matthew peppers her cheek with soft kisses as she comes to.

“You okay?” he asks. “Can you do one more?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Want you inside me, Matt. Please. I need you.”

He captures her lips in a soft kiss and she groans when she tastes herself on his lips.

It’s a very quick kiss. Matthew reaches over into his bedside drawer and pulls out a tiny foil package. He puts it between his teeth as he pushes his boxers off his body. She bites her lip as Matthew’s dick pops out of the confines of the boxers.

She accidentally saw his dick one time before now, and it looked nothing like it does right now. “Jesus, Matt,” she gasps. “Is it gonna fit?”

Matthew laughs and slides the condom onto his dick. “I promise it’ll fit,” he tells her.

He hover over her between her legs. The tip of his dick lines up with her entrance and she shakes. Her heart races in her chest and she stares up at the pretty boy above her. “Slow,” she tells him. “Okay? I don’t know-”

“Tell me if you need me to stop or if it hurts,” he interrupts. “I’ll move at your pace, okay? I have you.”

She nods. “Go.”

Matthew slowly pushes into her. She gasps as the unfamiliar stretch and grasps onto his biceps. The deeper he goes, the more it hurts. She pushes through though and pain eventually turns into pleasure.

He moves so slow though that it’s almost painful. She wants him to ruin her but she wants to be able to walk in the morning. Whatever that will look like.

She reaches up and slides her hair into Matthew’s hair. His eyes lock with her as he bottoms out in her. Her lips are pressed in a line. “Okay?” he asks.

With a nod, she says, “I’m okay. Give me a second. You’re fucking big, Matt. Damn.”

He laughs. “That’s not my fault,” he replies. “Most women I hook up with like it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, asshole,” she retorts. “I said I needed a second.”

Matthew laughs again and she pulls him down into a kiss to shut him up. He licks into her mouth and she groans.

Feeling ready, she rolls her hips. One of Matthew’s hands rests on her waist and he meets her movements.

It’s slow, but it feels good. He slowly but deeply thrusts into her. She moans into Matthew’s mouth and he swallows every noise. Her hands slide from his hair to his back. She gently digs her nails into his skin.

He speeds his movements up a bit and she throws her head back against the pillows. “Fuck,” she gasps. “God. Matt.”

“Okay, baby?” he asks. “Good to keep going?”

She nods. “Like you mean it,” she pants. Matthew’s smile reaches his ears.

Matthew throws one of her legs over his shoulder and is able to move deeper into her at the new angle. She cries out his name and he attaches his lips to her neck. He’s covering her entire body at this point. It’s not only his dick that’s big. Matthew himself is a bigger guy.

He slows his movements but continues to bury his cock in her. The knot forms again in the pit of her stomach.

“Matt, I-”

“Me too,” he interrupts. “This is about you. I’m not gonna come until you come on my cock, pretty girl.”

She feels tears in her eyes as she tries to keep herself from coming. It feels too good and she doesn’t want it to end yet.

Especially since this is probably the first and last time she gets this from Matthew. She wants it to last.

Matthew slides a hand between them and as soon as his fingers find her clit again, she comes.

His name is on her lips as he fucks her through what is definitely the strongest orgasm of her life. Her entire body shudders as she comes. Her vision goes white for a hot second and she completely melts against the mattress beneath her. Her legs fall to the bed.

He comes into the condom before he pulls out of her. They’re both panting messes as he ties off the condom and throws it out. She very lazily crawls under the covers and Matthew joins her.

There’s a comfortable silence between them as they both recover from their highs. She finally gains feeling back in all her extremities and looks over at him.

“Thank you,” she weakly says.

“For?”

“Doing that for me. It was fun. I enjoyed it.”

Matthew sits up in bed and leans back against the headboard just as she went to curl up next to him. “I should’ve said something before we did that,” he admits to her.

She sits up and holds the blankets under her arms to keep herself covered. “What?”

He bites his kiss-bruised bottom lip for a second. “I have feelings for you,” he confesses. “Genuine feelings for you and I feel guilty for saying yes before telling you that.”

A day full of surprises.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. There is a reason she asked him of all her friends to do this for her. She’s always known he was attractive, a genuine guy and an incredible hockey player.

She’s damn lucky that Matthew agreed to have sex with her.

Matthew looks terrified. She smiles and drops her head to his shoulder. “You should see the look on your face,” she laughs.

“I’m being serious,” he tells her.

“I know,” she replies. Her chin rests on his shoulder. “I like you too. Why do you think I asked you to do this and not someone else?”

He blinks. “I thought you were just tired of being a twenty year old virgin,” he flatly states.

“There was that but I wanted it to be you,” she admits. “I guess I was just shooting my shot.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matthew laughs.

She crawls onto his lap and lays on him. “When do I get one of those cool jackets the wives and girlfriends have?”

“You want one?”

“I do,” she tells him as she looks up at him. “Is that okay? If I got one?”

Matthew smiles and nods. “I’ll get you one.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[onelonelysaiyan]

Hazbin Hotel Adam Relationship Headcanons

Fairly gn, i tried my best! This is kind of my starting point for getting back into writing, let me know what you guys think! <3

-DAD BOD!!!!! You CANNOT change my mind on this 

-Hairy arms, legs, a little on his chest, has a really nice happy trail 

-Strong arms, good at cuddling  

-Uses wings a lot in his body language 

-Enjoys when you preen his wings, makes him feel loved 

-Tries to be less rude and mean when talking to you 

-LOTS of petnames; Angel, babe, baby, mommy/daddy, sugartits, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, dollface, wifey/husband

-Super clingy, like, to an obsessive extent sometimes. Will get upset if you’re not spending enough time (in other words, all of your time) with him. Calls you all day if you’re apart, will text if you tell him to stop calling. Has to know where you are, who you’re with, if you’re safe. Has absolutely spied on you before, and has made poor Lute follow you around on numerous occasions. He just wants to make sure you’re alright!  

-Big Baby. He’s so whiny and needy, please coddle him. Not in public, but like when you’re alone just hold him and run your fingers through his hair. Kiss his forehead. Hold his hands. Let him rest his head on your chest, he needs it 

-PDA is his thing, but in general his love language is touch so expect lots of physical contact ALL the time unless you just really don’t like that kind of thing 

-Absolute tease, doesn’t matter where you are. Love to rile you up even if he’s not looking for anything to happen afterward. Just likes seeing your red face 

-Will talk to/at you for HOURS, about literally anything and everything. Like please, babe, just shut up for like, five seconds? 

-KISS HIM WHEN HE’S RAMBLING. Shut this asshole up with the sweetest way you know, he’ll fall for you all over again 

-Honestly just kiss him, any time will do. Might act a little upset if he’s in the middle of a sentence but he loves it, please kiss him more 

-Likes to spend the rare day off by laying in bed with you and just holding you, all lazy kisses and gently roaming hands while you lay on his chest 

-Give him chest kisses!!! Especially over his heart, practically melts when you do, it’s just so sweet and intimate to him and he feels so loved when you do 

-Loves to play with your hair, long or short. Sometimes tangles it on accident, but he’s willing to brush it back out for you if you’ll let him 

-Will just stare at you sometimes, he’s so in love. He wants to make sure he commits every detail of your beauty to memory, even if he’s already done so numerous times before. 

-Will absolutely adore it if you train with him and his exorcists, even if you can’t always keep up. You’re trying and it’s cute as hell 

-Will brag about you to anyone and everyone. Can be rather inappropriate about it, but he really can’t help it! He wants everyone to know how perfect you are and how you chose him out of everyone.

-Possessive, can’t stand seeing others trying to flirt with you. He understands why they would, after all, you’re the hottest being in Heaven! Who wouldn’t want you? But he still doesn’t appreciate it. Will march up to you and the other person before wrapping his arms around you and fluffing out his wings to make himself seem bigger (which really isn’t necessary, the man’s an absolute GIANT already...) 

-Speaking of being a giant, this man loves to engulf you with his body. He’s just so big that no matter what size you are he practically swallows you whole when he holds you. Thinks it’s super cute how small you are compared to him 

-Plays his guitar for you a lot, loves to sing for you too. Will make you attend band practice to get your approval of new songs and honestly just so he can see you while he plays. Gives him an ego boost to see you cheering him on both in practice and at shows and he’s certain he sounds better when he knows you’re there watching

I've got a fair few NSFW headcanons too so let me know if that's something y'all would be interested in!

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! reader, Eds and Reader don't know each other, but Max and Dustin know both Eddie and Reader, and they both think that they would be a great couple so they try to get them to know each other but it never works. But what if Reader goes to the trailer park to take care of Max, or help her with homework but on her way to Max's trailer, Reader falls and Eddie sees it and helps her, after some time, Eddie and Reader start dating and it made Max and Dustin happy but they argue about who made that it happened? (I hope this make sense! I just imagine Max and Dustin seeing how similar Reader and Eddie are in some aspects so they're like, yeah, they would be a great couple, but for some reason, they can't make them like meet each other or even see each other! you can change some things if you think it'll be better!)

I love writing Max as a bestie. This idea is adorable. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting♥︎

Wingman vs Wingwoman

Max was surprised to find herself being friends with a cheerleader, granted it was forced in the beginning. Max's mom has been on an insane level since everything happened with Billy, so she refuses to let Max be alone. Y/N became Max's babysitter, Max wasn't warmed to the idea at first but now it was more of friends hanging out compared to babysitting.

Y/N was way more chill and interesting than the other cheerleaders, shocking Max. They talked, watched horror movies, shared comic books, and went to skate parks. With all of Y/N's badass interests, Max realized she might not be the only one who would adore her. Max knew she had to get Y/N to meet Eddie.

Dustin fell in love with Y/N the second she walked into the student council. Dustin's mom wanted him to engage in more school activities ( apparently hellfire wasn't real enough. ) But the student council wasn't horrible when Y/N was the president. Dustin was a love-sick puppy when it came to her and he practically was her vice president with how much he did for the club. Or for her. With her leading confidence and how high she held her head, Dustin couldn't help but see a bit of Eddie in her. That's when it snapped in Dustin's head that Eddie would love to meet this girl.

~~~

Max was rushing Y/N to Hellfire with a purpose in mind.

"I'm gonna be late for the student council!" Y/N groaned as Max dragged her arm down the opposite hallway.

"I know! I just need to show you something." Max said, a tiny smirk on her face. Her blue eyes lit up with mischief.

Max cheered as they reached the door, Y/N looked at her confused for two reasons. One, Max was excited about something, and two it was about a door with hellfire written on cardboard.

"What the hell is this?" Y/N asked, Max didn't answer, so she yanked open the door.

Max's smile and mood fell when she didn't see Eddie. Just the same losers she always saw.

"Where is he?" Max demanded, her foot stomped against the glossy floor.

~

"Dustin, dude, we can't be late for this campaign. The rest of the sheep are already set up." Eddie scolded but Dustin didn't listen. Just yanking Eddie down the hall.

"Just one minute!" Dustin groaned. He sighed at the lack of patience Eddie had.

"Where are we even going?" Eddie huffed.

"Tada!" Dustin cheered as he yanked open the wooden door. Eddie peeked in over Dustin's head and felt confused.

"Tada? It's a group of nerds talking about the school."

"It's called the student council, and she's not here!" Dustin growled. Where the hell was she?

~~~

Max and Dustin had no idea they were trying to get Y/N and Eddie to see each other. And they had no idea they were backfiring each other's plans.

"No! I need Eddie, I've been trying to get him to meet this girl for weeks!" Max snapped at Dustin, her icy blue eyes glaring straight at him.

Dustin felt himself shivering in fear but tried to stay confident.

"I don't care. I've got a way better girl for Eddie to meet."

"Mine's better, just watch." Max scoffed as she raced off on her skateboard.

"What did red want?" Eddie asked as he walked to his van.

"No clue. But look, I need you to drop me off at school early tomorrow, student council meeting." Dustin lied, Eddie huffed but agreed as he started the engine.

~

"Max, what's up? Dustin said he needed me this morning." Y/N asked as Max kept looking up and down the hallways.

"I just need to see something!" Max said as she looked into the parking lot. She saw Eddie's van but she couldn't find him at all. She checked all the rooms she knew Eddie knew but nothing.

~

"Dude, we've been here for ten minutes, when does this meeting start? We are the only ones here." Eddie sighed. He could have gotten another hour of sleep but this damn kid.

Dustin checked his watch with a pit of anxiety in his stomach. Y/N said she'd be here and she is nowhere to be seen.

"Whatever. I'm going to have a smoke." Eddie said as he walked out the door.

Not even two minutes later Y/N walked in with a grumpy Max.

"Of fucking course," Dustin said as he shook his head.

~~~

Max and Dustin were slowly wanting to give up. Every plan they had was backfired. Somehow Eddie and Y/N were always at the wrong place at the right time.

Y/N groaned as she walked through the muddy trailer park. She regretted wearing her nice shoes. A huge van came speeding down the road, frightening her into slipping in the mud.

She groaned as she landed on her ass. Now her clothes were as muddy as her shoes.

The van slammed on their breaks and a boy came running out.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." The boy apologized, he kneeled next to her as he softly helped her stand up.

She went to scream in his face but once she took in his face, she was silent. He was the most gorgeous boy she's ever seen. His soft skin, bone structure, nice jaw, and flowing brown curls rested on his shoulders.

"Oh, that's alright." She shrugged off with a smile. She was sure she'd have fallen for him the same way if he still wasn't holding her up by the waist.

Eddie didn't hear a word she said. Too amazed at how beautiful the girl was. He didn't even realize he was still touching her until she shifted.

"Shit sorry." He apologized again as he removed his hands. He took in her muddy clothes.

"This will sound so creepy, but can I drive you to my trailer to get you new clothes? I feel awful." Eddie smiled as she laughed.

"It is super creepy, but I also don't want to babysit in these clothes." So she agreed and they rode off to his trailer. Only to connect the dots that Max was right across the way.

"Here! It's just an old shirt and some sweatpants." Eddie said as he handed Y/N the clothes.

"Do you want me to drive you to the trailer you need?" Eddie asked as they stood at his front door.

"It's actually just right there so I can walk. Thank you, what was your name?" She asked.

"Eddie Munson, and you?" He asked as he held out his hand.

~

Max eyed Y/N as she walked in covered in mud and clothes in her hand.

"What happened to you?" Max asked as she got off the couch.

"Slipped in mud, but I got new clothes so gonna change!" Y/N said she walked into the bathroom, with a smile on her face.

~~~

A month passed and Max was preparing to give up. No matter what she did, she never got Eddie and Y/N in the same room.

"Why can't you come tonight again?" Max asked, Y/N walked beside her down the hallway.

"I've got a date, but your mom is staying home," Y/N explained.

"Where is the date? I've got a guy for you and I bet he's way better than whatever loser you picked yourself."

"Rude, he is not a loser. I appreciate in a weird way that you want to set me up, but I'm fine. We are going to the movies."

~

"Dustin, I can't! I'm going to the movies for a date." Eddie sighed as he searched for an outfit to wear.

"Waste of time, bro. I've got the perfect girl for you. Just cancel, then come be my wingman at the diner then I'll set you guys up!" Dustin argued.

"First, I am way too old to be your wingman. It's creepy. And second, this girl is hot, I'm not ditching."

"Come on dude! You are my only ride and my mom said I needed a babysitter. Steve is working so please?"

~

"She's here, see ya," Dustin said as he ran to an empty booth with his date.

Eddie picked a seat where he could see the back of Dustin's head.

He smiled when Y/N took the seat across from him, blocking Dustin.

They dived into a conversation and the time flew by in seconds.

~

Dustin said goodbye to his date and walked over to Eddie, he noticed Eddie was alone.

"Stood up?" Dustin mocked as he pointed to the empty seat.

"Bathroom, now beat it," Eddie said, but Dustin sat down instead.

"I've got nowhere to go, you are my ride." Dustin shrugged, grabbing a fry from the plate in the middle of the table. "Plus, my girl would be so much better for you."

~

Max walked into the diner, and her mom drove her to pick up dinner. She waited near the counter as she waited. She gasped when Y/N walked out of the bathroom.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had a date?" Max asked, her arms crossed.

"I do! We changed it to her because he had to babysit." Y/N explained.

"Babysit? Can't get a real job?" Max mocked and rolled her eyes.

"Watch it. I'm a babysitter." Y/N declared as she glared at the younger girl.

"Is he still here? I want to meet him so I can prove my guy is better."

Y/N sighed but agreed, walking Max to the table.

"Dustin?"

"Y/N?"

Eddie looked between them confused, "you two know each other?"

"How the hell do you know her?" Dustin spazzed as he looked at Eddie with huge eyes.

"EDDIE IS THE GUY!" Max squealed, and Y/N was confused about her showing a positive emotion.

"What is going on?" Eddie and Y/N asked at the same time.

~

After Dustin and Max explained their sides, they left the couple alone. Dustin walked Max out to her car, killing time until Eddie was ready to leave.

"I so did that." Dustin bragged, he nodded in improvement as Eddie slid his arm around Y/N as they walked out.

"They didn't even know you were trying to set them up, plus she met him because of me!" Max argued

"No, she did not!" Dustin fought back.

"Yes huh!"

"No huh!"

~

"It's kinda cute they wanted us together so much," Y/N said, walking out of the diner.

"I'm surprised Dustin thought I was in your league." Eddie chuckled, his arm still over her shoulder.

"I'm surprised you'd even like a cheerleader," Y/N replied.

"When they look like you? Yeah, I like the cheerleader." Eddie teased, but his heart raced as she laughed and swatted at his chest.

He might have to give Dustin a praise for this.

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

[nikkeora]

e-42!Miles Morales headcanons (fluff) ㅡ

Okay, so, I've seen a lot of people headcanon that Miles is going to buy you anything and everything you even look at

but while that's fine because they're headcanons, let me remind you the boy is 16. He's not gonna be walking into Gucci and buying everything off the displays like a webtoon.

That being said, if he has a little extra cash he'll most likely spend it on you.

I'm talking little meaningful things though. Flowers, books, little trinkets that reminded him of you and such,

if your hobby needs supplies, he'll discreetly scan your stock when he's over and get you a refill of whatever you're low on.

He also cherishes whatever you gift to him and refuses to throw anything from you away.

Like once, you got the both of you matching shoes. They've been his favorite pair ever since.

And also dates.

Dates are a little rare between the two of you ngl, because 1) New York is literally Gotham atp, and 2) being the Prowler takes up a lot of time.

so you mostly hang out at each other's places as a substitute.

But when you do go out, Miles will plan everything down to a T

because let's face it, he tries to act cool but boy is nervous

You're the first person that isn't family he's actually opened up to. He doesn't want you to have a single bad experience with him.

But even if your dates go sideways, either one or both of you always find a way to make it better :)

At the start of your relationship, he's not too big on PDA.

but as it progresses, he starts getting more comfortable about stuff like holding hands or chaste kisses in public.

Once he's completely sure of himself and the two of you, he's always touching you in some way;

linking pinkies, holding hands, hand/arm around your waist, etc.

Never, I repeat never in front of Uncle Aaron though.

It's not that he's embarrassed of you or anything, but his uncle will definitely tease the living hell out of him

Speaking of Uncle Aaron, he likes you.

The first time he heard about you was a week or two after he taught Miles the Shoulder Touch™

Keep in mind, this is before Miles's dad passed away and all that,

so the boy was awkward.

When he tried it out on you, you couldn't help laughing, just a tiny bit.

Then he made the mistake of telling his uncle, who made it so much worse

"Can you please stop laughing? I'm being serious!"

"I'm sorry man–"

"No you're not 😒"

Back to physical affection, Miles is a sucker for any that you give him.

hugs, cuddles, kisses, you name it.

He will literally melt into your arms.

He'll try to deny it at first but it isn't fooling anyone, so at one point he just gives up the tough guy act when it's just the two of you.

Forehead/top of the head kisses? PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E

he needs some soft affection.

He is down bad.

You get back hugs. all the time. extra when he's sleepy.

he will literally penguin walk you everywhere.

A lot of times he'll put his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat to remind himself you're still there and his. Especially when 'work' was hard.

Speaking of, he also told you he's the Prowler.

Of course, he tried to delay it as much as he could, but once the two of you were absolutely stable he felt wrong keeping it a secret.

Especially when he had to bail on plans for some inpromptu work thing and couldn't give you a reason why.

You'd kinda put two and two together at that point, but it was nice to hear him actually tell you.

After Miles comes clean though, his protective tendancies will double.

He isn't controlling or smothering, but he has some strong feelings against you walking in the streets alone after dark and such.

And they only get stronger after he tells you what he does. If something happened to you because you knew, he'd never forgive himslelf.

So he takes precautions. Whenever he drops by your place after work, he always changes first so that no one sees the Prowler frequent some random apartment.

he'll never let you anywhere near his job. You don't need to watch all that nasty shit.

and so on, so forth.

He's also a big whiner. He will drag his words out to the ends of the earth if he has to.

"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa–"

"Miles, my paper's due in two days."

"Finish it tomorrow then. Necesito sostenerte, hermosa."

"...Fine."

Mrs. Morales also loves you. You're basically her daughter in law already.

Which is great!

Until she starts showing you the baby pictures.

"Miles had the cutest little face–"

"Má, please–"

She loves having you around and will let you stay the night whenever (as long as the door's cracked open).

You're invited to every single family event courtesy of Rio.

Miles will try to participate in anything you're interested in.

you like doing makeup? put some on him pls.

he'll also watch youtube tutorials to learn how to do it himself and do it for you.

which doesn't work too well the first few times, but now he's a natural!

his first time doing your eyeliner though:

"Miles, you've been at it for like 10 minutes. Let me see!"

"..."

"Is that– is that a wing?"

"..."

"🏃‍♂️🚶‍♂️"

"No, no, it's nice– it's so nice–"

Rio almost died laughing.

If you like to draw, he'll take you on grafitti dates !

But if you're nervous about that, then he'll just sit and draw with you or something.

don't look at his paper, he's drawing you and will be very flustered (he'll try to play it cool but blushing isn't rly something he can control)

so yea look at his paper

If you're part of a fandom, he'll study everything he can find on it so that he can understand what you're talking about.

He'll most likely like it too, and you guys could spend hours talking about it if you want.

but if he's not that into it, he'll just sit and listen contently to you talk about it with the stupidest smile on his face like :]

He has the softest spot for you even a blind person could see it.

He just loves you so much pls love him back

probably do a pt.2 soon