#keys in the bowl by the front door to be picked up as you leave.

[soothfog]

everyone say thank you stevie.

[slttygeto]

SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.

synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.

c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.

word count: 2,1k

note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.

ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )

In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.

“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.

“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.

“First movie, pretty iconic.”

“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.

The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.

“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.

“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.

“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.

“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.

“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.

“Just saying.”

You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.

“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.

A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.

“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?

“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.

You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.

“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.

“Sugu—“

“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm,”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”

“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.

“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.

“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.

“Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”

He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.

Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.

“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.

“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.

You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.

“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.

“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.

“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.

“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.

He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.

Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.

You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.

Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.

“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.

“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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[pucksandpower]

My Brother’s Father

Charles Leclerc x Piastri!Reader

Summary: apparently you’re dating your brother’s father and Charles is dating his son’s sister … what a mess!

You toss another shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, humming to yourself as you go through the closet. Charles will be home from training any minute and you want to have your little prank all set up before he arrives.

The front door opens and closes, followed by the familiar sound of Charles’ keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. “Mon amour? You home?” He calls out.

“In here!” You respond, stifling a grin. You pick up the pace, grabbing handfuls of clothing and dropping them haphazardly into the suitcase.

He rushes down the hallway, ready to convince you to join him for a shower. But when he reaches the bedroom door, his heart sinks.

“What … what are you doing?” He asks, horrified.

You glance up, your face the picture of innocence. “Oh, hello darling! I was just packing a few things.”

“Packing? For what? Are you … are you leaving me?” The words crack in his throat.

You sigh theatrically, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I have to, Charles. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“What? Why?” He staggers forward, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sorry! We can fix it!”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you bite your lip. “It’s because of Oscar.”

Charles freezes. “Your brother? What does he have to do with us?”

“Well, think about it ...” You abandon the suitcase, sauntering over and trailing a fingertip down his chest. “When you adopted him, that made you his father. Ergo … you’re my brother’s father now.”

Charles gapes at you, completely lost. “I … what? That’s not how it works! I was just joking on Twitter-”

“So you’re saying you don’t see Oscar as your son?” You arch an eyebrow accusingly.

“Well, no, I don’t actually-”

You shake your head, clucking your tongue. “Shameful, Charles. Denying your own child like that.”

“But he’s not really-”

“Poor Oscar,” you lament, throwing a hand against your forehead dramatically. “Rejected by his own father! No wonder he’s been texting me constantly, sobbing about what an awful dad you are.”

Charles scrambles to catch up. “Oscar has not been … we’re not actually related, Y/N!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” You back away, hands on your hips. “But the fact is, I can’t date my own brother’s father. It’s just … wrong. Morally corrupt.”

“You’re being completely ridiculous!” Charles throws his hands up.

Whirling on him, you jab a finger into his chest. “So you’re calling your son a liar now too? How dare you!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, at a total loss. You stare at him expectantly, arms folded.

Finally, Charles decides to change tactics. “Fine, okay, let’s say all that is true. For the sake of argument. That still doesn’t mean we have to break up!”

You blink at him innocently. “It doesn’t?”

“No!” He grabs your hands, holding them tightly. “Mon cœur, I love you. We can make this work.”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to consider it. “I don’t know … having a romantic relationship with my brother’s father? It just feels so sordid and taboo.”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re making no sense. This is all hypothetical!”

“Is it, though?” You wiggle your fingers free, tapping your chin. “The heart wants what it wants, Charles. And mine wants to avoid a salacious love affair with Oscar’s own dad.”

Throwing up his hands again, Charles growls in frustration. “This is completely insane! We were together before I ever ‘adopted’ Oscar as a joke on Twitter!”

“Were we?” You ask loftily. “Sometimes the lines get so blurred, don’t they? It’s hard to keep track of what came first.”

Charles stares at you wildly for a long beat. Then, abruptly, he lunges forward — sweeping you up into his arms as you squeal in surprise. You flail dramatically as he hauls you over to the bed, tossing you down onto the rumpled sheets with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Charles Leclerc, what do you think you’re … eep!” Your faux outrage melts into peals of laughter as he attacks your sides with wiggling fingers, mercilessly tickling you. “Stop, stop! I give up, I give up!”

But he’s relentless, pinning you to the mattress as his fingers dance expertly over your most ticklish spots. You thrash and giggle helplessly, tears of mirth springing to your eyes.

“Say you’re not breaking up with me!” He demands, grinning wickedly. “Say it, or I’ll never stop!”

“Never!” You gasp out, breathless with laughter. “I’ll never, hahaha, surrender!”

Lunging up, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, stealing your breath away. You melt against him with a contented hum, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hands roam over your body possessively. The teasing banter falls away, replaced by the familiar sparks of want and need that always seem to simmer between you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both flushed and panting. Charles gazes down at you with dark, molten eyes. “Are you done being ridiculous now?”

You try for an imperious look, but can’t quite hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Well … I suppose I could be persuaded to overlook that our family tree is quickly turning into a wreath.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses along the exposed column of your throat.

Throwing your head back with a breathy sigh, you concede, “Fine, fine. I’m not actually breaking up with you, you lunatic.”

“Thank god.” He raises his head, his expression turning serious as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

You cover his hand with yours, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you so much. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny to me.” He tries to look stern, but you can see the fondness sparkling in his warm green eyes. “No more jokes about us splitting up. Or pretending I’m actually related to your brother. Deal?”

Tracing the beloved lines of his face, you murmur, “Deal. I promise to leave Oscar out of our sexy games from now on.”

Charles barks out a surprised laugh. “Our what now?”

You grin unrepentantly. “What? Like you’ve never fantasized about me calling you ‘daddy’ before?”

He flushes bright red, sputtering as you dissolve into giggles once more. Leaning down, he silences you with another heated kiss — and soon, all thoughts of Oscar and Twitter jokes are utterly forgotten.

[evie-sturns]

tummy ache - Chris Sturniolo

summary: your boyfriend chris is typically clingy as it is, but when he comes down with a stomach ache and a fever he can't keep himself off of you.

contains: nsfw, oral (male receiving), flufff, sub!chris, swearing, clingy!chris

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chris and i have been dating for over a year, he's always by my side when we're at home, and like today when we go out.

the blaring music echos through the mall, chris sits down on one of the couches as i sort through various bags i've picked up today, chris hasn't let me pay for any of them.

"um-" chris clears his throat, i look over at him with a small smile,

"i think we need to go home." he whispers with a small crack in his voice, my eyebrows twist,

"oh- no thats fine yeah." i nod, "you okay?" i follow up.

"my stomach hurts." chris mumbles, i stand up with the several bags in my hands and heave him up off the couch.

"aw chris, i'm sorry." i say, grabbing his cold hand and guiding him through the countless people near the exit to the mall.

he goes silent, something that rarely happens meaning something off.

i squeeze his hand lightly and look up at him with a small 'are you okay' look on my face, he shakes his head with a light sigh.

"we'll get you home chris, car is parked just over there!" i smile, stepping out into the parking lot.

i almost drag him over to the car, i swing open the door for him and help him into the passenger seat before walking round the front of the car and jumping in myself, i set the bags down by my feet before looking over at chris.

he just shrugs with a small pout,

"you think your stomach hurts 'cause you had too much soda?" i joke softly, earning a weak laugh from his soft lips.

i press a kiss to his cheek before starting up the car, "you want some music?" i ask before pulling out of our parking spot.

"oh- yeah thank you." chris says quietly before connecting his bluetooth to the car.

--

we pull into the driveway after a short drive, i turn off the car and chris hops out.

i jump out with him and reconnect our hands and walk with him up to the front door, he rubs his eyes as i rummage through my purse for the keys.

i click open the door and step inside,

"you wanna go grab some water and i'll set up the couch for you?" i ask, chris nods eagerly

"yes please, thank you." chris smiles before walking over to the fridge,

"chris-" i call out, "no- no pepsi thats not gonna make you feel better."

"mmgh it always makes me feel better though." he whines, i shake my head,

"water bottles are bottom right" i smile before jogging into the living room, the cool breeze from the air conditioning hits my skin.

i tug a blanket out of the small basket in the corner of the living room before throwing it onto the couch, i walk back into the kitchen and grab a small clear bowl,

"are you feeling throw up sick, or just sore stomach?" i ask,

"i- i dont really know." he wipes his forehead,

"better safe then sorry!" i shrug before trotting back into the living room and flopping down on the plush of the couch.

chris walks into the living room, wearing baggy jeans and a black shirt, his cheeks red and small droplets of sweat on his forehead.

he undoes his belt, leaving him in his loose boxers before he flops down on the couch.

his heavy body is halfway on me as he buries his face into my chest.

i press the back of my hand to his forehead,

"oh sweetheart, you're 'fuckin burning alive." i laugh with a sad smile,

he groans in response,

"c'mon, have a sip of water for me." i whisper, he holds the plastic bottle up to his raw lips and downs a good quarter of it.

chris flops back down onto me, i play with his hair while his head presses on my torso.

suddenly he lets out a crunchy cough, "jesus-" he mutters,

"god- you really are getting sick," i laugh, chris nods as he relaxes into my body.

"i think i'm dying" chris says dramatically, "i think you are okay chris"

"can i do anything else to make you feel better?" i ask, running my hands through his long floppy hair, he hesitates for a moment before opening his mouth,

"just some mind blowing head maybe.." he grumbles, i shake my head with a small scoff

"i mean something serious christopher." i reply,

"i am serious!" he protests.

he looks up at me from his position on my chest with his blue doe eyes, "please?"

i sit up, chris follows and sits up off me as well

i get up off the couch with a small giggle, chris manspreads with a stupid smirk.

i drop to my knees between his legs and rest my fingers on his thighs,

"please..?" he whispers slightly, i reach my hands up to the waistband of his boxers and tug them down teasingly, just enough to reveal his base.

"tell me what you need." i say calmly, chris lets out a needy whine, his leg bobbing up and down on the spot, "please." chris breathes out again.

i tug his boxers down to his mid thighs, his throbbing erection springs out.

i lean foward, wrapping my lips around chris's tip, a soft moan exits his mouth as he gently tangles his fingers into my hair.

i swirl my tongue around his red tip before taking more of him further down my throat, earning a small gag from me.

"close-" chris warns, bucking his hips up, forcing him further down my throat as his hands grip my hair tighter. i pull off his cock for a second to catch a needed breath,

"oh god-" chris protests as his cheeks flush, small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead, he runs his hand though my hair. i wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, "i know baby." i say, quickly wrapping my mouth around him again as i scratch his thighs with my nails.

i bob my head up and down quicker, chris's whimpers filling the room.

i look up at him with squinted eyes, he squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth.

i can see his breathing intensifying before he releases in my mouth, i pull off of him.

"you don't have to swallow that-" he says, placing a hand under my mouth.

i spit it out into his large hand, "you might need to drink more water" i laugh, chris lets out a small giggle,

"i knowww..." he groans, wiping his eyes.

chris wipes his hand on one of the tissues next to the couch before tugging his boxers back up.

i stand up and flop down on chris's lap, straddling him slightly.

chris coughs into his elbow,

"if you get me sick i'll-" i start, but i'm cut off by a crispy cough in my mouth from chris,

"oh my god chris! you're disgusting for that!" i say turning my head away from him with a grin,

"you just sucked my dick its not that gross..."

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@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom m @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall

[obsidianbaby]

FUCKING BROWNIES

synopsis - you've been good friends with the triplets for the past few years and are visiting them in LA. You and the guys decide you want to bake some brownies but you're missing some key ingredients, Matt and Nick go out to pick them up leaving you and Chris alone.

warnings & notes - dom! chris x reader, oral (fem receiving), choking and a lil bit rough, angst, slight degradation, overstimulation, praise (let me know if I've missed something)

a/n - this is my first time writing smut in fucking yearssssss so pls be kind<3 also tried my best not to use y/n cause i hate that shit okok enjoy mwah

- I also despise writing dialogue so bare with me

____________________________________

"alright be back soon!!" Nick shouts as him and Matt walk down the stairs to the garage door.

Chris and I stand alone in the kitchen now, Chris hovering over the mixing bowl at the counter, his back to me, and me sitting at the table reading the back of the brownie mix box.

"Don't know why you guys decided to buy brownie mix that requires so many ingredients you don't have" I say putting the box down and sighing.

"Dude I think you can wait like 20 minutes for them to get back" Chris says laughing turning around to face me.

"Mmmm yeah but then we have to wait for them to bake so really it's going to be closer to an hour" I say back jokingly looking up at Chris who's now leaning with both hands across the table in front of me.

"Damn a whole hour, are you gonna parish before then?" He says sarcastically squishing my cheeks with his hand. I playfully swat his hand away and stick my tongue out at him.

"Yeah actually I might," I say while pushing my chair out getting ready to stand up, "I might just need a quick taste test..." I say as I stand up to begin my journey to the mixing bowl on the counter. 

Just as I make my way around the table Chris moves to stand in front of me placing his hands on my shoulders to stop me in place.

"Uh uh uh no way I'm letting you stick your grimy little fingers in the brownie mix" he says shaking his head at me.

"Hmm seems like a challenge" I say daringly before darting around the other side of the table towards the mixing bowl. 

"For fucks sake" he says sprinting after me. He pulls my wrist and yanks me towards him just as I stick my fingers into the bowl.

"Hahahaha too late bitch" I say pleased with the chocolate brownie mix spread all over my fingers. He watches me intently as I begin to lick the mix off of my fingers. I close my eyes with delight, "yummmm you should have some" I say as I pick up the bowl and shove it in his direction.

"Yeah okay" he says hesitantly as he dips a couple fingers into the bowl and licks some of the mix off while looking at me. "Mmmm" he walks over to grab some paper towel but I interrupt him.

"Wait what are you doing?"

"Wiping my hands off??" He looks at me puzzled.

"Noooo you can't waist that shit" I say as I grab his wrist and bring his fingers to my mouth. I begin to lick and suck on his fingers, swirling my tongue around them trying to savor every last drop of the brownie mix. Chris stares at me intensely, his pupils dilating with desire as he bites his bottom lip.

After I think I've gotten all the mix off I take out his fingers from my mouth slowly. I look down at the tent growing in his gray sweats in front of me.

"Shit... Sorry" I say smiling shyly as I slowly release my grip on his wrist, knowing that this is crossing the normal boundaries of our friendship.

He looks down at his growing hardness and back into my eyes, licking his lips. "No you're not" 

"Yeah you're right I'm not" I say smirking at up at him. Fuck me it'd be a lie to say I didn't want him to take me right then and there having been attracted to him since we met.

"Hmmm" chris ponders for a second as he looks my body up and down. The wetness my legs starting to soak through my panties.

"What...?" I ask looking at him with a raised brow trying to hide my growing smirk.

"I don't think you got all the mix off so I think you'll have to try again" he says bringing his fingers back up towards my mouth, grazing his thumb over my lips for permission and I gladly part my lips open and he slips his two fingers back in my mouth. 

I stare up at him as he slowly guides his fingers pumping them in and out of my mouth, my tongue swirling around them. He watches me licking his lips in satisfaction. I grab his hand and force his fingers as far as I can down my throat causing me to gag, saliva dripping down my chin.

Chris lets out a groan, "oh fuck" he says as I continue to guide his fingers down my throat, choking on his digits.

I then take them out of my mouth and inspect them "yep they look clean to me, here you are" I say smirking as I push his hand back towards him gently, enjoying the sexual frustration growing in Chris's pants, hoping he takes the bait of my seduction.

"I don't think im done though" he says stepping forward, closing the gap completely between us, his hard cock poking me through his pants. My thighs clentch at the heat growing between my legs.

"Oh?" I say sensually, tilting my head at him.

"Yeah see, you got a taste but I don't think I'm finished with mine yet" he says, firmly grabbing onto my jawline tilting my head to the side exposing my neck.

"But you haven't got anymore brownie mix to-" I begin but I gasp mid sentence as Chris's lips attach to my neck, kissing my sensitive skin. He picks me up by the waist and places me on the counter top, his legs spreading mine open for him to stand in-between.

With his hands firmly holding onto my waist he continues to kiss down my neck and across my collar bone before lifting his head up at me smiling cheekily. I grab his face with my two hands guiding his lips to mine needing to know what it feels like to kiss him.

We start moving our lips together at a lightning pace, his tongue grazing over mine asking to be let in and I immediately grant him access, our tongues fighting for dominance.

I stop the kiss by biting and sucking on his bottom lip which causes him to let out a husky moan. I smile with satisfaction at this, which causes Chris to shake his head as he places his hand around my neck squeezing firmly, causing me to let out a moan. 

He then smiles with pride from my escaped moan and I roll my eyes at him. He uses his grip on my neck to push my head back a little forcefully against the cabinet and I moan again. 

"Hmm didn't think you were the type to like it rough" he says smirking devilishly at me, his eyes almost black with desire.

The arousal dripping through my panties has me needing to clentch my thighs together but they're being held open by his waist. He instantly looks down at my legs tightening around his waist and he places another quick sloppy kiss to my lips before moving his hands onto my bare thighs, slowly guiding his hands further and further up and under my shorts until they sit resting at my pantie line, his fingers trailing teasingly under the hem. He looks up at me for permission and I nod instantly at him. 

With this he slips one of his hands under my panties and runs a finger up and down my slick, swirling his fingers in my wetness, his other hand gripping tightly around my thigh and I gasp.

Staring hungrily into my eyes, he lifts his hand from my thigh to my neck and roughly choke slams my head against the cabinets as he plunges two fingers into my hole and begins to pump them. My body jolts from the sudden tightness in my core and a few moans escape my mouth, "Oh fuck chris" 

"Fuck you're so wet already, sucking my fingers really got you off huh? Fucking slut" he spits as he curls his fingers up hitting my sweet spot with every pump, his other hand wrapped around my neck.

My legs start to shake and my breathing intensifies, the knot that's been building dramatically since I sucked on his fingers moments ago aching in my stomach begging to be released.

"Fuck chris I'm getting close i" at those words he retracts his fingers from my cunt and brings them to his mouth, his one hand still gripping my neck as he stares at me while slowly licking my arousal until his fingers are clean.

 My walls ache from the emptiness craving the need to tighten around something. "Fuck chris please" I beg trying to grab his hand to guide it back to my slick where I need him but he swats my hand away.

"You taste so fucking good" he says with a devilish smile, pushing my head back against the cabinets.

"Fuck chris please continue I was so close" I whine through suppressed breathes, pulling a face at him and he just smiles at my neediness.

"I don't think this was enough to satisfy me though" he says as he waves his two fingers that he just licked clean in front of my face before releasing the hold on my neck and gripping my thighs with his hands.  He aggressively digs his hands into my thighs and pulls me to the edge of the counter. He kneels down in front of me placing my legs over his shoulders and I bite my lip in anticipation.

He kisses the inside of my thighs teasingly, slowly moving his soft lips closer to my clothed heat. He places a gentle kiss over my clothed wetness before shifting my panties to the side exposing my cunt to the cool kitchen air causing me to gasp. He stares up at me as he licks a line from my hole up to my clit before pressing a soft kiss to it. 

"Fuck chris please" I beg, bucking my hips up to try and create friction against his face but he holds my legs firmly in place.

"Please what? Use your words sweetheart" 

"Fuck please Chris I need you I need your mouth on me"

"Good girl" he smirks as he places his lips around my clit and begins to suck. He snakes his hand around my leg and puts his fingers in me, curling them up into my spongy walls.

I instinctively buck my hips against his face starting to grind against his fingers inside me and he lets out a gutteral moan causing his mouth to vibrate around my throbbing clit sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.

He removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue and starts to draw tight circles around my clit with his thumb and I moan, gripping his hair to help guide his tongue further inside me.

"Fuck you're so fucking good for me" he says against my slick before diving his tongue back inside. 

The knot in my stomach snaps and my legs shake around his shoulders as he continues to tongue fuck me through my high. He retracts his tongue from my slick once my walls stop convulsing around his tongue and he wipes my waves of arousal off his face on his hoodie sleeve. 

He helps me move my legs from his shoulders and he stands up bringing his lips back to mine once again so I can taste the mess I made all over his tongue. 

Our lips moving against each other instinctively, tongues swirling around, teeth clashing. And he continues to rub my clit gently with his thumb, the overstimulation burning causing me to moan loudly in his mouth.

"Fuck chris too much" I say between moans as I try to continue to kiss him through the pressure that starts to rebuild in my stomach.

But the moment gets interrupted by the sound of the garage door shutting downstairs. We both look at each other eyes wide in shock.

"Fuck" we both say in unison as I stumble off of the counter and Chris tucks his rock hard dick up in the waistband of his sweats. 

We both eradically pace around the kitchen trying to find something to do that looks normal as Matt and nicks voices get closer and closer by the second. 

I quickly hop into the chair I was sitting in when they left fixing my underwear and shorts as best I can and Chris stands awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen trying to shake out his messed up hair as Nick and Matt turn the corner and continue their walk into the kitchen.

Matt places the grocery bags on the counter and him and Nick continue their conversation, oblivious to the sexual tension flooding the air.

Suddenly they stop and hesitate as they both shoot questioning glances between me and Chris. 

"Everything okay in here?" Matt asks looking directly at me as he starts to unload the items from the grocery bag onto the counter.

"Yeah what's with the awkward silence, usually you two don't ever shut the fuck up." Nick adds as he picks up the brownie box to double check the instructions before heating up the oven.

Chris and I look at each other and smile in unison, our ridiculous laughs breaking the awkward tension.

"Yeah yeah we're good" Chris says patting Nick on the back.

I stand up to help Matt with the missing brownie ingredients, "yeah it's all good guys let's make some fucking brownies" I say picking up the eggs.

MATT'S POV 

Nick and I park in the garage and as I'm grabbing the bags from the back seat I can hear muffled moans coming from inside. I snap my attention to Nick standing in front of the car to see if he heard what I did but he's still yapping about the sweet cashier from cvs who checked us out. 

Nick opens the door and I make a note to close it as hard as I can so they know we've made it back home, hopefully interrupting whatever it is they've gotten up to while we've been gone. 

Nick shoots me a questioning look, "okay calm down what did the door do to you?" He jokes poking at my clear annoyance which for nicks sake, doesn't know the direct source, that being Chris hooking up with our best friend.

We make our way up the stairs and as soon as we turn the corner into the kitchen the smell of her arousal fills my nose and I inhale deeply trying to take it what I can, my mouth beginning to water.

I place the bags gently on the counter and start to unload the items trying hard to focus on my conversation with Nick and not the annoying smirk that paints Chris's face, the glow of her arousal still shimmering over his lips. Fuck.

Nick sensing my annoyance and the awkward silence between my brother and best friend, stops mid sentence and shoots me a questioning glare which I return with my own glare and shrug my shoulders, turning my attention to my best friend sitting awkwardly at the table. 

"Everything okay in here?" I ask staring intensely into her eyes as I continue to empty the items from the bags. She looks back at me and her cheeks instantly flush before breaking our stare and looking towards Chris. 

Nick adds, "Yeah what's with the awkward silence, usually you two don't ever shut the fuck up." I chuckle to myself as I watch him turn the oven on. 

I noticed her and Chris exchange a knowing glance before they burst out laughing. I grit my teeth at their reaction, Chris annoyingly saying "yeah yeah we're good" patting Nick on the back and thankfully it's Nick who stands closer to him cause i would have swung on him right then and there for sticking his face between the legs of my girl.

She gets up and walks over to me a smile planted on her perfect and fucked out face. She stands beside me the heat of her body pressing against my side as she helps me gather the ingredients.

"Yeah it's all good guys let's make some fucking brownies" she says as she picks up the egg carton. I let out a heavy sigh and she shoots me a quick side glance with a raised brow. I decide to suffocate my jealousy with a hard swallow and smile back at her.

As we start mixing the missing ingredients in all I can think about is how much I regret wanting these fucking brownies.

a/n - let me know what ya guys thinkkkkkk <3

updated a/n - part 2 posted below MWAH xx

[zeroreasonstocare]

One day, Choso is confused when you cancel watching Yuji with no explanation. Usually, there’s a long apology and reasoning, usually a last-minute scheduling issue, but today? Radio silence. After getting his uncle over to watch Yuji, Choso walks next door to check on you, knowing he’ll be late to his nth part-time job.

When you don’t answer the door, he uses the spare key you gave him, and he calls for you. Still, no response.

He gets to your room to see you passed out on your bed, phone in hand with a half-typed explanation to him, and blankets twisting with your legs. Choso picks up your phone, reading the half-typed text with multiple spelling errors, able to make out “ghreq ip” and “um so sprty”, knowing it probably means “threw up” and “I’m so sorry”.

The dark-haired male frowns and shuts off your phone, putting it on the charger and onto your nightstand. He then shuts off your lamps and fixes your blanket. Choso then goes to your kitchen and calls into work, claiming he’s sick and can’t make it to work. He then starts to cook your favorite soup.

You wake up to the smell of food, the feeling of dread instantly occurs, thinking you accidentally cooked something while delirious after throwing up. You scramble out of bed and hurry into the kitchen and find none other than your neighbor cooking soup for you.

“Choso?” You mumble, sleepy and confused, throat hoarse from your earlier vomiting.

“Go back to bed,” he mumbles, not even turning to look at you as he continues to cook. “Actually, try the soup, does it need anything?”

He carefully blows on the spoon to cool the broth and then brings it to your lips. You taste the soup and nod.

“Good.” Is all you manage to say as you watch him cook. It never gets old. Watching how docile and domestic he can be while looking so imposing and menacing.

He lays you back in bed despite your protests, and leaves the room. He quickly returns with a bowl of soup and sits in front of you.

“Here, open up.”

“Nooo, go work, I’ll get you sick,” you mumble.

“Don’t care, open up, I already said I’m not working today.”

“Fiiine…”

He carefully cools each bite of soup for you and spoon feeds you. Choso smiles at your tired, sickly expression.

“Yuji’s with our uncle, if you were wondering,” he mumbles and feeds you, letting you sip your water.

“What was his name again?” You mumble.

“Sukuna. He instantly thought of something inappropriate when I said you cancelled today.”

“Oh god…”

“Yup. Instant smirk on his face.”

“What’d he say?”

“Said that you and I should be more careful.” Choso rolls his eyes at the innuendo left by his uncle’s words.

“He thinks I’m bedridden because… that’s so inappropriate…” It took you a while to get the innuendo, but when it did click, your cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, it is.” He agrees.

He goes back to feeding you instead of continuing the topic.

“Yuji misses you already. He said he wanted to play hide and seek today.”

“Maybe we’ll play next time.”

“I’m off work for the rest of the week.”

“Oh, guess I’ll have to wait til next week, then.”

“Who says my dear neighbor can’t visit any time when they feel better?”

“Right, we’re neighbors, friends, not just babysitter and employer, huh?” You smile, starting to feel better after eating.

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” He smiles too, always smiling when he sees yours. “Feel better and the three of us can all play.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m working on feeling better. Give me like, a day or two,” you mumble and lay down.

Choso chuckles and contemplates lying beside you, but doesn’t want your protests about getting him sick. He decides to let you rest and he fixes your covers, then puts up the leftover soup and cleans the dishes, staying quiet so he doesn’t wake you. He could get used to doing small things for you.

Masterlist

[star1ight0]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Always have a place"

TW: mentions of physical/verbal abuse

I have issue, it's okay though writing make me feel better Abt them.

Yelling it was always a non-stop screaming match in your house, your quirk allows you to absorb sound and turn it into physical energy, unfortunately for your fathers quirk was much stronger than yours and fobadde you to use it outside of school. Your house was hell between your mom and dad fighting all the time and occasionally dragging you into it it felt like internal flames.

One night got particularly bad when your dad started yelling, you stepped in to remove your mom from the situation when he raised a fist to hit her as you jumped in the way. He proceeded to derect all anger at you now. Your mom ran taking the keys urging you to leave but you refused to give him even a second to potentially hurt her. She left leaving you a bleeding bruised mess as your dad walked out the door. You couldn't stand it anymore. Through the rumbing of thunder outside you patched yourself up grabbing a duffle bag with clothes. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you didn't want to be home when he got back.

Walking in through the rain phone in hand you dialed Katsuki's number.

"the hell? Why are you calling me it's 3am on a school night?" He said in the usual gruff tone the sleep still in his voice.

"Katsu, can i-" you were cut off by Katsuki's voice louder than before "Are you outside?! What the hell, is pouring get inside before you get sick." He said even though he sounded more aggressive you could tell he was genuinely worried.

"Katsuki please just listen to me, i- " you paused feeling a wave of hesitation "I need a place to stay tonight.. please" silence. You heard slight movement from his end. "The doors unlocked my parents are sleeping but I'll tell them while you get here. Hurry up I can't have a hypothermic partner." He said hanging up the phone.

You put the phone in your pocket walking the remaining distance to his home. You knocked on the door being greeted by Mrs. Bakugou.

She was like a second mom to you so the look on her face when she was you bruised eye and cut lip/face was beyond frightening. She helped you in placing your bag on the floor calling Katsuki to start a bath for you. "Go up and take a bath dearie, I'll leave some soup upstairs in Katsuki's room for you." She spoke in a rather soft voice.

You went up towards the bathroom seeing Katsuki still warming the water. "What the fuck. I'm gonna kill that bastard." He spoke pulling you into a hug. "Don't it's - it's my fault I got in the way it's just - he was going to hurt her and i- " your voice was braking with tears and finally giving out with a sob. You shoved your face into his chest

"It's okay dummy.. you're here and safe now. I'll take care of everything okay?" He said his voice softening. "Get in the bath I'll throw a towel in the dryer for you" he said placing a kiss on your lips.

You faced away from the door using Katsuki's soap to wash up. When katsuki returns he sees a bad bruise on your side as you wince in pain trying to wash your hair. "Give me the soap" he said his hand outwards. "Kats-" you said trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Nothing I haven't seen before, just lean back and let me do this for you." You felt your face get warm at his beginning remark but let him nonetheless. Afterwards he leaves to let you get changed.

When you entered the room there was a bowl of soup next to the bed and Katsuki was putting away laundry, you walked behind him wrapping your arms around him placing your weight onto him out of exhaustion.

"Hey, you okay now?" He asked shifting so you were in front of him. "Mhm just cold" you said and he placed his hand on your head "your probably gonna be sick. You should've called me I could've gone and got you dumbass" he says but there's no anger anywhere in his voice just worry. He picked you up bridal style placing you on the bed laying next to you. "Mom's okay with you sleeping in here but if you want the bed to yourself.. too bad." He says kissing you. You snuggling into him finally letting your guard down snuggling into him "I don't.. know how long I'll need a place-" you were cut off by a kiss from Katsuki "don't act like you don't have a place here. Besides, the hag likes you so she won't mind"

The rest of the night is cuddling and a little bit of crying, but Katsuki holds you the whole time until you both fall asleep.

[niabang]

Peaceful Arguments

Pairings: Bangchan × fem reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You and your boyfriend got into a huge fight and you have a "special" way of reconciling.

Warnings: smut included (Minors dni). Hard dom/possessive chan, angst, angry/makeup sex, bratty sub reader, overstim/edging, unprotected sex (don't be silly wrap your willy.) Drew inspiration from Chan's bbl messages if you can tell hahaha.

More under the cut!!

Well, this honeymoon phase ended pretty quickly. How did you and your boyfriend go from finding everything adorable and cute to fighting every now and then?

You could still live with it. It was just the usual couple bickering, and it always ended with you bent over the kitchen counter or squirming under your boyfriend, so a win was a win for you.

But it never got this bad. This time, voices were raised, and insults were bouncing off the walls of your apartment.

"Y/n, I don't have time for this. Just leave me alone." Your boyfriend Chan said standing right in front of you.

"What do you mean you don't have time for this when you started it!?" Why was he pulling the victim card when he instigated this mess?

"What the fuck did I start y/n?" He was really acting innocent.

"Well, for starters, you pulled me out of a party and yelled at me in public, insinuating that i was cheating on you while you were right there? That was so embarrassing. You're being such an immature dick right now." You said.

"I'm immature? How did you expect me to react when you were basically fucking another guy just 10 inches away from me huh? Don't act stupid because I know you aren't." Okay, maybe the dance you shared with your former classmate did get a bit too intimate, but you shut it down once you saw he was getting the wrong idea.

Your boyfriend was kind of (really) overreacting right now.

"Did you just call me stupid?" You asked him cocking an eyebrow.

"Y/n I didn't call you stupid. I said, "Don't act like it." Use your head." Oh, he was actually calling you stupid.

"You're being so fucking dramatic right now Chan. You asked me who he was, and I told you he was a former classmate from high school. I told you that I fucking shut it down when I noticed he was getting the wrong message..."

"You yelled at me in PUBLIC Chan fucking hell I am not a child or your property I'm a grown woman who can think and speak for herself."

"Okay, then y/n go think for yourself into someone else's pants I don't want to have this conversation anymore." There was no way he was being serious.

"You are such an insecure bitch, I hate you so much. I can't stand you." You said.

"Then I'll leave then. Let's talk tomorrow because you're clearly confused." He turned and picked up his car keys from a tiny bowl on the kitchen island and proceeded to the door.

"No. Who said anything about tomorrow? Don't come back till you're ready to accept the fact that you're wrong and apologise to me." He stopped in his tracks and turned to face you.

"Now that's where you have it wrong. I won't be back until YOU apologise to me and cut off all contact with that guy whatshisface..." Wow, so you were both dropping ultimatums now okay.

"He has a name, and it's Brandon." You corrected him, and just at the perfectly wrong timing, you received a call, and it was Brandon. Chan took a look at your phone and laughed.

"Oh fuck off y/n." He walked out and closed the door behind him then you heard his car zoom off.

Good riddance.

You called Brandon back, and the poor guy was only calling to apologise for causing war between you and your boyfriend and even offered to speak to him on your behalf but you told him not to bother.

Not that it would even work. That would only make things worse between you and chan.

You slept it off and woke up the next day expecting to see texts and missed calls from your boyfriend, but you got nothing.

You were a bit hurt because part of you hoped that he would come crawling back, but you couldn't have everything you asked for. Could you?

It was 4 p.m. now, and you had successfully spent your day lazing about and binge watching a crappy sitcom on Netflix.

You missed your boyfriend. You really did, but you had to be strong because you knew you weren't the one in the wrong.

God, you were so pathetic. You hadn't even eaten all day because of a man, and it made you remember how mad he'd get if he realised that you were skipping meals and not taking care of yourself properly.

Life was so sickening without him (it had only been a day).

You decided you were going to make yourself a quick sandwich because you were already dying of heartbreak, and it'd be wrong to add hunger to your struggles.

6:30 p.m., you received a text from Chan saying he was coming over to pick up his stuff and added that you could throw them out if you wanted to.

He was so dramatic. You replied to him with a simple "fine" and turned off your phone.

You were just about to start making your sandwich when you heard a key turn in the lock.

He was here to pick up his stuff.

You were so happy to see him, but you had to keep your cool and act like you weren't because you didn't want to stroke his already inflated ego.

"Am I not going to get a hey or anything?" He said after he had come in and locked the door, but you completely ignored him and kept on eating your sandwich at the kitchen island.

"So you're ignoring me now, huh? You gon do me like that?" You still didn't pay any attention to him and kept munching on your sandwich.

You heard him scoff and watched him find his way into your once shared bedroom.

You shouldn't have looked up at him, though, because now you were horny. Did he really have to wear the grey sweatpants and compression shirt combo today? Of all days?

He was definitely doing this on purpose. He knew what he was doing, but no, you weren't going to give in.

He came out of the bedroom carrying his two suitcases and proceeded to the living area to pack up his console and the other things that accompany it.

You stood up from the chair you were eating on, and you were now leaning backwards with your elbows rested on the kitchen island.

You were watching his every move in silence.

You expected him to just finish packing his stuff and leave, but he stopped halfway, got up, and started walking towards you?

He came closer till there was only an inch of space between you two, and you had to crane your neck upwards to look at him.

"Baby, what are we even doing?" He said and your stomach did a thousand flips.

"I don't know you tell me." You were determined not to fold today.

"What do I have to do to make you come back to me." He sighed and placed his hands on your hips. Fuck.

You placed your hands on his and took them off your hips, and widened the gap between you two a bit.

"Come on." He said in an almost whiny tone.

"Beg me." You didn't even think before you spoke, but that was the smartest thing you had said in a while.

Your boyfriend looked at you unbelievably and scoffed at you like there was no way he was going to do it.

"You can just pack up and leave if you aren't going to do it." You were doing so good.

"Okay, fine, you win." There was no way he was actually agreeing to this.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry for being an insecure and immature boyfriend. I acted like a dick and I was in the wrong but it's been hell without my girl and I miss her so fucking much my heart hurts, my tummy hurts, my head hurts and I can't even think straight it feels like the walls are closing in on me and I'm going to stop breathing at any second..."

"Bro, okay, I accept. Stop being a drama queen." You said half laughing at your boyfriend.

"Does that mean I can kiss you now?" He asked.

"Say, please." Maybe you just wanted to hear him beg a tiny bit more.

"Please y/n can I kiss you, please?" He was surprisingly playing along well.

"Ye-"

You felt his lips on yours before you could even finish your sentence. Oh God, you missed this. You missed him.

You guys were kissing each other so hungrily with tongues gliding in and out of each other's mouths. You could feel his hard on against you and you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you.

Chan bit your lower lip, and you felt him smile against your lips when you let out a moan. He was so damn cocky.

You started to undo the strings to his pants, but when he realised what you were doing, he broke the kiss and moved away from you.

You were slightly (very) confused as to why he did that, and you're pretty sure you whined as he broke contact between you two.

He looked at you up and down and bit his lip.

"When did you get this skirt? Is it new?"

You looked down at what you were wearing and it was even too short to be called a skirt but you were at home so who cares?

"It's not new. I've had it for years, but I stopped wearing it because it got too short." Why were you guys talking about clothes when he could be breaking your back right now?

"I want to be rough with you." Oh, you were so back.

"Then be rough with me." You replied, looking straight into his eyes.

"Fuck." Chan said. Before you could even say anything else, you were being hoisted up onto the kitchen island, and chan went back to devouring your lips.

He went down to your neck with a hunger, and your hands went into his hair. He was definitely leaving marks on your skin.

You were moaning his name uncontrollably, and you guys hadn't even gotten started yet. Maybe absence does really make the heart grow fonder.

He stopped kissing you once again, but this time, he was giving instructions.

"Get down and take off your clothes." You got down immediately and started to comply, but he stopped you when you got to the skirt.

"No, not that. I want to fuck you in it." You died a little at that statement.

"Take off your panties." He said.

"I'm not wearing any." You're a 100% sure you saw his eyes darken at that statement.

"Okay, turn around and rest on the island." You complied without saying a word.

Your cheeks were met with the cold marble and you could feel your ass and pussy completely exposed to him.

You felt chan come closer to you, and you let out a moan when he started to rub his dick in between your folds teasing your entrance.

You thought he was finally going to fill you with his dick but instead, you were met with a hard slap on your ass and you let out the nastiest moan ever.

One slap turned into two, three turned into four, and your cheeks were stained with tears.

Chan gave you no time to collect yourself as he pushed himself inside you and thrusted agonisingly slowly to gain a rhythm.

You started whining from how slow he was going and as if he knew he started pounding into you as fast as he could.

He filled you so well it was like you were two pieces of a puzzle.

He was fucking you so well you were loosing your mind and your stamina.

Chan noticed and used one hand to steady you then continued his assault on your pussy.

You started feeling that familiar feeling in your stomach and you knew you were about to cum.

"Chan, please don't stop." You begged.

He, in fact, did not stop, but just as you were about to reach your high, he pulled out and left you an unsatisfied mess.

"Did you really think it was going to be that easy?" He asked you in the most condescending tone ever.

"You liked it when I acted all weak and nice, huh? Well, it's your turn now." Fuck. You should have known there was a catch.

He smacked your ass once again and your pussy clenched around nothing.

"Not so confident now, are you?" He taunted.

"Chan I'm sorry please just fuck me please." You begged hoping to make things better for yourself.

"What do you want?" He asked you.

"I want to cum chan please make me cum." You whined.

"You'll have to earn it because only good girls get to cum." He said that and went back to destroying your insides.

This man edged you not once but three times.

At this point, you were sobbing uncontrollably, and you were worn out.

"Who does this pussy belong to?" He asked while thrusting in and out of you at the speed of light.

"You Chan." You said through tears.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked.

"You chan." You struggled to get that last one out.

"That's my good girl." He said and finally let you cum. Your release hit you like a brick, and he came right after you, too. You felt so full that you were literally on cloud 9.

Chan lifted you from the island immediately after, turned you to face him, and gave you a kiss on your forehead.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked, and you nodded.

"Let's not fight anymore, okay?

"Okay." You answered, and he pulled you in for a hug.

You were so back!

You did lie about one thing, though. The makeup sex was too good for you guys to stop fighting.

There were many more fights to come.

[mabelstone]

Imagine Being Loved by Me

hozier x f! reader

part three of lullabies <3 | part two | masterlist

cw: 18+, nothing too serious but a bit teeeny bit of smut

word count: 3.2k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure

Three weeks have gone by since I walked in on Joe piledriving another woman in my bed.

Three weeks ago after a beautiful morning of jazz music, pancakes, and instant coffee, Andrew drove me back to my house to pick up my car. I sent him away with an earnest hug, putting on my bravest face as I let myself inside. No shit, there were rose petals on nearly every inch of floor board. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, instead, tiptoed upstairs into my room. Joe was asleep in bed, and I nearly tasted my breakfast for a second time that morning. Instantly, I felt nauseated, the type that makes you hot and dizzy and want to run away and never come back.

I pushed the feeling back down, determined to grab all my shit and forget this tainted cell of a house I once loved more than anything. Furiously, I began stuffing all of my clothes into a suitcase. Then in another bag, I took everything that belonged to me; sheets, towels, everything down to the last teabag. I was fuelled with rage, huffing and puffing my way around the house, lugging my bags out to my car. Oh, fuck. My keys.

Where are my car keys?

I searched the house like a mad woman, tearing apart the couches, looking in every cupboard and under every piece of furniture. Nothing. I called Andrew, asking if I'd had them at the bar, as if he'd know the answer if I didn't. "Ehm... just your house keys? I tink..."

"I tink you're no help," I mocked, hanging up with the briefest of smiles before I was playing detective again. I searched for nearly an hour before caving in and waking Joe.

I shook his shoulder roughly, standing back with my arms crossed once he finally stirred awake.

"Mmm..." He groaned, and I waited patiently with a scowl for him to realise it was me and not some broad off the street. "Oh, you're finally home."

"Where are my keys?" I deadpanned, fuse shorter than ever. I wasn't in the mood for the slightest conversation with him.

"I missed you so much, babe," he sighed, pulling my stiff body into a hug. I peeled myself away from him, repeating myself.

"Where are my keys, Joe? I left them in the fruit bowl, and now they are gone."

"Let's talk first before we make any hasty decisions," he coaxed, pulling me by my wrists onto the bed beside him. "I can't explain how sorry I am."

"Joe, please."

"I've been up all night crying, my heart is broken," he sighed emphatically, taking my hand into his. Oh, you're the heartbroken one? "I can't imagine a life without you."

"You weren't thinking that way when you were fucking the girl you met at my show."

"You hadn't had sex with me in weeks! I was getting desperate-"

"Just stop," I barked, throwing his hand off of me. "Give me my car keys so I can leave. This doesn't need to be any harder than you've already made it."

After minutes of brutally painful back and forth, he gave me the keys to his safe. I unlocked it to find my keys and an open jewellery box with a sparkling engagement ring. He was sitting on the bed, eyes filled with optimism, and I almost fell for it.

My phone buzzed and I saw a message from Andy.

You haven't crashed your car have you? X

I took my keys and closed the safe, turning on my heels out of the bedroom.

"Um, what the fuck?" Joe called out as he followed close behind me, roughly grabbing at my arm when I was halfway out the front door. "I just proposed to you, and you don't even have the decency to say no?"

"No," I replied, unlocking my car and tossing my bags into the boot.

"What? Babe, don't throw this away," he began to cry, clearly panicked.

"I haven't thrown anything away. You have." I shoved him away by his chest, just about ready to boil over with anger. "You have destroyed any shred of trust I had in you. It's over, Joe."

My tough act began to slip as my voice shook, climbing into my car and slamming the door shut before he could see how hard this really was on me. He screamed something inaudible at me as I drove away, and I watched him sob into his hands from the rearview mirror.

I cried the entire drive to my mums, ignoring the hundreds of calls I missed from him.

Andrew and I continued to spend time together. I spent many nights at my mums place while I tried to look for a house. I didn't have rental history as Joe wouldn't put me on the lease... because I didn't have rental history. "Babe, it'll just make everything harder," was once his excuse.

When my step dad would get unbearable, Andrew would invite me to spend the night. These nights would frequently begin with me sobbing about how broken hearted I was, and end with him and I snuggling on the couch to a movie. Innocent enough, sure. But after weeks of abstinence following six years of frequent sex, I was pent up. So pent up to the point where I would have to excuse myself for some time alone with his retractable shower head. Many of my thoughts of Andrew were so explicit, you'd think they were from the brain of a teenage boy who'd plough through two boxes of tissues a day. This of course left me feeling inexplicably guilty and beyond confused.

Tonight, we drank wine and sang cheesy duets together. We clumsily danced and laughed until we cried. He had the coordination of a newborn giraffe, and though I'd never admit it to him, I wasn't much better. He drunkenly rambled about how in a perfect world, he'd own a cottage in Wicklow and keep bees. I told him how I'd be a florist who sold my Irish friends' honey.

As if routine now, we'd share a blanket on the couch and watch a movie. Last night was Superbad, tonight was Inception. Andrew mindlessly carded his fingers through my hair, and with the comfort that brought me mixed with the wine, I was out to it within minutes.

His beard tickled the inside of my thigh as he continued to bite and suck at the sensitive skin, eyes boring holes into mine with a devilish grin.

"C'mon, Andy," I whined, throwing my head back in frustration. I closed my legs over his head, desperate to feel his mouth on me where I needed it viscerally.

"Patience, darlin'," he tsked at me, spreading my legs wide before him again. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous right now."

"Please, just touch me," I begged, reaching a new peak of arousal that was actually causing me pain. "Anything, just fucking touch me!"

He just chuckled, locking his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer to his face. He continued to place hot, wet opened mouthed kisses along my thighs, his beard scratching over my clit for a split second, and I swore I was on the brink of orgasm immediately. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, impatience taking full control of my autonomy.

He licked a languid stripe up my clit, causing me to let out a guttural moan, arching my back beneath him. He pushed me back down by my hips, one hand easily reaching my breast as he toyed with my nipple.

"Fuck, Andy," I cried, eyes screwing shut as every single nerve ending of mine came alive.

"Look at me," he ordered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against my core. Without warning, my orgasm rippled through me, each nerve erupting like fireworks as I chanted his name.

I woke up panting, taking a moment to realise I was laying with Andrew on the couch. And processing the fact that I actually just orgasmed in my sleep.

"What's a'matter?" His voice was soft and concerned as he turned his head to face me.

"Weird dream," I laughed breathlessly, heart still pounding in my chest. This happened far too often. I almost wanted to spill my guts and confess everything he made me feel.

"Dreamin' of me, huh?" He grinned down at me, and I felt my cheeks burn.

A moment's silence.

"What?" Please tell me I wasn't moaning his name in my sleep.

"I'm jokin'," he laughed, averting his eyes back to the TV. "Unless you were."

I laughed along too, though in my head I was screaming. 'Unless you were,' what the fuck does that mean?

The credits rolled over the screen and like routine, we got off the couch and went to our separate rooms. Except this time, my heart didn't settle, and I didn't get much sleep.

We went about our days as usual, as if I didn’t fantasise about him every waking moment. I worried that I was catching feelings, and catching them far too fast for someone who'd only just gotten out of a 6 year relationship.

I couldn’t help it. I was infatuated. Infatuated was an understatement. I was completely and utterly enamoured by Andrew. I wanted to be in his presence every moment I could. I often told little white lies so I could spend the night, even though our we remained within a strictly friends only basis.

He was kinder than any man I’d ever met, insisting on having to open every door for me, sending me off to bed with a glass of water each night, and waking me with coffee just how I liked. He was gentle and tentative, always fast at identifying cues when I was upset.

But that’s all we were - just friends.

I began to crave his touch, desperate for any opportunity to feel his skin on mine. He’d often play me a new song he’d written, and I’d watch on with hearts for eyes as his skilled fingers worked his guitar effortlessly.

I saw it in his eyes too, sure he wanted me how I wanted him. I dreamt of climbing into his lap, kissing him until my lips were swollen or until he couldn’t take it anymore and we’d need to take off our clothes to satiate our desires.

But I couldn’t.

When it felt like we were moving in that direction, I’d turn ice cold. Though my heart was begging me to love him how he deserved, my brain knew this was probably just a rebound. And someone with a heart as golden as Andy's didn’t deserve the hell grief I’d cause him.

So I brushed off each pet name as if hearing them didn’t cause my stomach to do acrobats. I treated each night on the couch as if we were simply best friends who enjoyed each others' company. As though there was no other option than spooning on the couch where his scent became hardwired into my brain. I’d act as if I couldn’t feel his hard on pressing into the small of my back most nights. I’d pretend I’d have no idea what he was really doing when he’d have to excuse himself halfway through the movie to ‘make a call.’ It’s just how it worked for us.

And often, I wondered if it was torturing him as much as it was me.

We pulled up at the venue, Andrew of course opening my door for me, offering me his hand as I stepped out onto the kerb. I thanked him and we headed in together, turning a few heads as we did so. Not that this was unusual, he was 6’6” and painfully handsome, after all. He’d also given himself quite the name, rumours of a few producers attending tonight in hopes of setting him a deal.

“Remember me when you’re famous and touring the world without me,” I fake pouted, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

“Well obviously, nobody forgets their muse,” he bumped his shoulder into mine, that cheeky grin stretched across his face. “Besides, I owe you that much for giving me something to write about.”

I nearly choked on my drink, raising my eyebrows at him. “And what songs are written about me, hm?”

“The monster mash?” He kept a straight face, giving me that duh look at the same time.

“Oh, shut up, Andrew.” I laughed, acutely aware of the man who just sat beside me. “I’m being serious! It'd make me happy to know.”

“You’ll know when you hear ‘em, baby,” he grinned, throwing back his glass of champagne. Baby. My heart leapt from me, and in that moment I was grateful that he wouldn’t have noticed the deep blush splattered across my cheeks. He was too busy claiming another round of free drinks for us.

“Please tell me that’s your brother or something,” the man sat beside me spoke up, chocolate brown eyes so endearing, thick American accent on his lips.

"I sure hope not," I joked. His face fell, and I realise how that could've been misconstrued. "No- he's not my boyfriend either. We just sing together."

He put his hands together in prayer, looking up to the roof, mouthing, 'thank you, God.' I laughed at him, shaking my head. He had dark brown curls similar to Andy's, his were just more tame and much shorter. Full lips that twisted into a dopey smile, and if I weren't so confused with my emotions, I'd have jumped into a cab and gone home with him without a second thought. "I'm Will," he introduced himself, shaking my hand.

"Y/N," I blushed when he kissed my knuckles, wondering where the hell Andy had run off to. "Where are you from?" I attempted to avert the conversation, regaining ownership of my hand.

"Colorado," he smiled, signalling to the bartender that he wanted to order another round. "And you're a singer?"

"Uh... well I sing, yes," I giggled, the three prior glasses of bubbles gone to my head. "I wouldn't label myself a singer as such."

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing," he grinned, slipping his hand onto my thigh.

"I uh," I stammered, struggling to find the words. "That's very kind," my eyes searched the room for Andy. He towered over mostly everybody wherever we were, standing out like a sore thumb. But for some reason, he was nowhere to be found right when I needed him.

"I'm only in town for the night," he leaned in close to me, his breath hot in my ear, and his hand only getting warmer on my thigh. "Once you're done your little performance, why don't you come back to my hotel and give me an encore?"

Like the Gods had intervened, a familiar calloused hand was grabbing my arm. "C'mon, we gotta go backstage." I looked up to Andy, his expression rigid, bordering on disgust and anger.

"Oh, okay," I nodded, hopping up from my stool, Will's hand quickly retracted. "Uh, see you," I smiled awkwardly, Andrew's grip still around my arm.

"Here's your drink," he let me go, handing my glass to me.

"You saved me, Andy," I laughed, glancing back at the man who'd already moved onto his next victim. "Total wanker."

"Mhm," he hummed, not even looking at me as we made our way backstage.

"Everything alright?" I prodded, his expression unchanging. He didn't reply, instead opened the door to the green room for me. We weren't at our usual bar tonight. We'd been invited to perform at a decently size theatre that just so happened to be full of producers, offering free drinks for the performers. Maybe not the best combination.

The green room was alive with seven or so other musicians, all mingling amongst each other as they awaited their turns. There was a table lined with finger food, and a minibar with premixed drinks. Andrew had made a beeline straight for the snacks table. Typical.

"Um, hello?" I whisper shouted to him, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. "Is there a reason you're ignoring me? Is it because of that bloke? Because I-"

"Yes," was all he replied, taking his food to one of the couches with him.

"Okay," I was surprised with how forward he was, sitting down beside him, honestly perplexed by his rigidity. "...Why?"

"I didn't like the way he was talking to you," he shrugged, still avoiding my eye contact. "He was disrespectful."

"So... why are you icing me out, exactly?"

"I will say the wrong things, better to say nothin'."

This was unlike any way I'd seen him act before. Cold, annoyed... jealous? Surely not.

"Well, I'm sorry I- or he made you feel this way."

"Andrew Hozier-Byrne? You're on in two minutes," one of the stage hands announced, nursing his clipboard on his hip like a baby. "And we're still going ahead with the song change?"

Andy nodded, having a quick drink of water and tossing his rubbish away.

"Song change?" I questioned, following behind him. I made sure to watch every performance of his, even if it meant being amongst the audience when I wasn't also performing.

"Oh, yeah. When I went to get you a drink, I quickly changed my song. No biggie," he shrugged, tying his hair back into a bun, slipping his cap over the top. Jesus Christ, he looked fucking edible.

"What's the song?" I pressed further, still adamant despite the backstage timer ticking '30 seconds.'

"Haven't named it," he shrugged his guitar strap over his shoulders, giving me a wry smile. "It's about you, though."

I blushed deep, unable to form words. There was no space for talking anyway; he headed out onto the stage, leaving me dumbfounded as I watched on.

He awkwardly introduced himself, as he did each night.

And then followed my undoing.

I'd be the voice who urged Orpheus when her body was found.

I'd be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground.

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around.

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice.

Imagine being loved by me.

Suddenly, there was not nearly enough air behind this curtain as I watched on, awestruck.

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do.

So I try to talk refined in fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you.

I'd be the last shred of truth lost in the myth of true love.

I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of.

That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marvelling at God.

Before he feels alone one time and marries the sea.

Imagine being loved by me.

Fuck.

My knees felt weak, sure my ears were deceiving me. Imagine being loved by me. Oh, but I do.

Sure enough, producers from many labels were flagging him down from the minute his set finished, flooding the backstage where I was waiting for him.

I ended up having to go on straight after Andrew, thankfully. I couldn't think of any words to say, and the ones I could think of were highly inappropriate. Not that he would mind, clearly.

I hung around after my set, making eye contact with Andy here and there, waving him off when he looked like he might leave the conversations for me. I was happy for him. Ecstatic. And the craving for his touch only multiplied tenfold with his subtle admission that he felt the same.

tricked ya!! i am physically incapable of writing slow burn lol i hope u enjoy what i have for u in the next chapter xx it'll be very juicy (and hopefully longer)

i've also added a taglist as per a request, lmk if you wanna be added xo

[yncoreee]

YOU’RE MY FIRST PRIORITY. Minji x reader

Synopsis— After being the cause behind the end of your trip with your friends, Minji couldn’t help but feel nothing but guilt. Being the loving girlfriend you are you had to reassure her that she was your first priority.

Warnings .ᐟ Requested, established relationship, pet names, sick minji, minji being guilty, crying, wrote this in 2nd person POV 💀, Female reader, FLUFF

꩜ — ⵌWord count 944

Before you could take a step into the bus that one of your friends already owned, you felt a vibration in your pocket followed by your ringtone.

Without wasting much time you pulled your phone out of your pocket and furrowed your eyebrows at the contact name.

You picked it up and held the phone close to your ear. “Hey bae what’s up?” You asked in a concerned tone at why she was suddenly calling you when it wasn’t even up to 10 mins after you left home.

She coughed loudly. “Sorry, ummm y/n… I’m sorry for disturbing you but can you come back home? I’m feeling a bit sick” she expressed.

You felt like she was lying at first but when you heard the tone of her voice and how tiredly she talked you couldn’t help but feel even more worried.

“I’m truly sorry for disturbing you, there’s no one to take care of me…and I can’t even move an inch” she added sluggishly.

“Alright, I’ll be there in five minutes”

As you hastily ended the call, you glanced over at your friends who looked at you with worried expressions.

“Y/n is everything okay?” One of them asked.

“Not really, something important pulled up but don’t worry you guys can go without me, I’ll probably go another time” you responded with a faint smile leaving the venue.

You made your way towards both you and Minji's shared apartment, opening the door with a spare key. You noticed minji curled up on the couch looking under the weather.

Kneeling in front of her you lightly traced your fingertips over her sweaty-damp bangs. And rested the back of your hand on her forehead quickly retreating it. “Oh My you’re burning”

You gently held the back of her head helping her to sit up and lean back against the pillow handing her a box of tissue as she gave it a little blow.

“Hold on, let me cook something for you” you stood up from your kneels making your way over to the kitchen.

In less than 15 minutes you had whipped up some Samgyetang for her.

You placed the steaming hot bowl in front of her sitting right beside her. You scooped up a big spoon of the steaming hot soup and motioned it towards Minji's mouth.

She slightly parted her lips as you slipped the spoon into her mouth. She gulped down letting the hot liquid flow down her throat.

You fed her until she was full, letting her lay her head on your laps as you ran your fingers through her hair.

She slept so peacefully but she didn’t know what was coming for her next.

“Why can’t you just take the medicine? Do you want to be sick forever?” You questioned motioning the medicine towards minji’s mouth.

“Nuh uh, it’s bitter and disgusting” Minji huffed, swaying her head away from the liquid. Burying her face into a pillow nearby.

“Babe come on, stop being so difficult, the taste is going to fade away before you even realize it. Now open your mouth and take this medicine” you spoke in a soft and gentle tone.

“Minji….”

“No”

“Please….” You pleaded.

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll take it” she replied with a sulky expression.

She parted her lips as you slipped the bitter liquid into her mouth. Gulping it down her throat, she looked at you with a disgusted look as she gagged dramatically causing you to playfully roll your eyes. “See it wasn’t so bad now was it” you teased.

“Yes it was”

You chuckled lightly but stopped when you heard a ding coming from your phone.

Your friends had sent you a picture of them enjoying their trip with the caption. “What you’re missing out on😜”.

You slightly pouted that you couldn’t be there right now, enjoying with them.

Minji noticed your sudden change in demeanor. Peeking over your shoulders to see what made you pout a bit.

She felt so guilty for being the cause of it.

Tears began to fall from her eyes down to her cheeks as she looked down at the floor.

You responded to your friends shutting your phone and looking back at minji. “So should we watch a—“ you cut yourself off as you noticed her looking down.

“Min is everything alright?” You asked softly, placing your finger below her chin, raising her head up. You felt more worried as you saw a tear stain on her cheek.

Minji sniffed and immediately wiped away her tears. “Yes but it’s just…. Your friends are probably having fun while your here and I’m the cause of it” she sniffed in between her words.

“No minji—“

“It’s all my fault and I’m a suck a burden, I’m sorry” she said,not breaking eye contact with the floor.

“Minji you’re not a burden, you were sick and there was no one to take care of you and you did the right thing. It was good I took care of you before the sickness would’ve gotten worse, and I can hang out anytime with my friends” you spoke, confronting her as you placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“Really? I’m not a burden?” She looked up at you and then laid her head on your lap.

“No you’re not, you’re my first priority”

“The hangout was at the beach and I can definitely go to the beach any time, I can even go with you” you added.

“You’re so sweet, I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend” she mumbled but it was audible.

You giggled lightly and planted another soft kiss on her forehead. “So am I”

[soulseobie]

hair dye - soul x gn reader

not proofread

i think i saw this idea on @kisseobie's blog but for seob (｡>﹏<) this is for u pookie bear ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

you press the lock button on your keys, hearing the familiar chime notifying you your car's locked. your hand instinctively curls into soul's as the two of you walk towards the beauty store.

soul had expressed to you that he wanted to switch his hair up and asked that you be the one to pick his color and dye it.

soul disconnected his hand from yours as you made it to the entrance of the beauty store, pulling the door open and gesturing you forward. you stepped into the store, greeting the employee who welcomed you before directing your eyes towards the shelves of hair dye.

you park yourself in front of all the fun colors, organized in rainbow order, contemplating what would look best. you feel shota's toned arm curl around your waist, pulling you from the trance of colors.

you turn your head towards him, "is there any color you don't want, sho? i don't want you to hate your hair..." you clarify as you watch soul's eyes scan the colors. "whatever you want, bug. you're the artist!" soul smiles mischievously before resting his chin on your head. you roll your eyes as you turn back towards the colors, a neon green catching your eye.

you reach your hand out, plucking the bottle off the shelf and inspect it. "hey, what about this? it's called space cowgirl, that's basically you!" you giggle, showing him the color. he gives you a look of surprise before grabbing the bottle from your hands, smiling as he read the name. "let's do this one!" he nods, grabbing your hand to lead you to checkout.

.·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·.

after arriving home, the two of you race to the bathroom. you set the beauty store bag on the counter as soul parks himself on your vanity stool. you dig in the cabinet under your sink to find a dye bowl, brush and gloves before you turn to soul.

"do you want to change into something you don't really care about, love? i don't wanna ruin your shirt.." you warn him as you pull the dye out of the bag. soul gives you a blank stare before peeling his shirt off, leaving his muscular mid-section on full display. your cheeks heat up as you divert your eyes back to the dye bowl, "that is not what i meant, shota." he chuckles, tapping his feet on the floor as he waits for you the prepare the dye.

once the dye is ready, you shuffle over to soul, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself before brushing dye on the first strand of hair.

you feel his eyes on you as you focus on applying the dye evenly. soon enough, you feel a slender hand slide up your thighs and rest on your ass. "soul, behave. i'm gonna drop dye on you!" you exclaim as you try to divert your attention away from his wandering hands. you hear an audible 'hmph!' leave his lips before the offending hand slips back to his lap.

after the dye is evenly applied, you slip a processing cap over your work. you decide to use the excess dye on lighter pieces of your hair before wrapping it in foil. "okay, honey. this has to sit for a bit," you pat his head before continuing, "why don't we play mario kart while we wait? i got the booster course pass!" soul's eyes light up before he darts up from his seat, pulling you towards your bedroom excitedly.

.·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·.

after an hour, you and soul are back in your bathroom; his head tilted into the sink as you rinse his hair, a green stream of water trailing to the drain. "my neck hurts!" soul whines as you scrub his hair thoroughly. "i know soulie, i'm almost done rinsing you. then we can style your hair." you coo, freeing one of your hands to massage his neck.

once the water runs clear, you ease his head up and hand him a towel to dry off his hair. you rinse the dyed strands of your hair and grab a towel for yourself, mirroring soul's actions.

you sit soul down at your vanity again, pulling out your trusty hairdryer and brush, styling soul's silky (now neon green) hair. you even put some little curls to frame his face. "you look so cute! this was the best color idea ever." you giggle, pinching his cheeks. "and we match!" soul smiles widely, pointing to the dusting of neon green in your own hair.

soul rises from his seat, pulling you into a warm hug, "thank you for doing this, munchie!" you giggle, rubbing his back.

"you're welcome. i love you, space cowboy."

.·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·.

｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ not my best work but i tried

[absfawn]

⠀⠀⠀ღ ELECTRAPLAYER ✶ CLEAN UP THE MESS YOU MADE !

a/n: massive shoutout to @andersonfilms for helping me with this. with all of it actually ... ily ღ

the slam of the wooden door echoes throughout your shared home, rage spilling over like oil under a gas stove, both of your frustrated but truthfully? more so you. not so carefully you discard the keys in the entry bowl, smirking maliciously as abby just continues to press, creating more distance between the two of you as if this doesn’t need to be discussed. 

abby’s nails pick at the cuticles anxiously and you know if she continues they’ll bleed. you also know, you’re far too stubborn to help her with it, not with the stunt she pulled tonight. the two of you leaving early, the attitude she seemed to pull out of her ass. 

no, you’re not fucking standing for this bullshit. 

anxiously, the blonde halts near the kitchen island, waiting for you to meet her there but you don’t. firm hands running over your hair until they reach the nape of your neck, fingers pressing against the tension built. 

“are we going to talk about this or are you going to continue to give me the silent treatment? that is your typical move, abby.” questioning her as you slowly step forward. cynically, cocking your head to the side, waiting to give her back the same bullshit behaviour she served you on a silver platter all night long. 

her soft jaw clenches, lips pursed into a pout as her arms cross her chest. a needle drop could be heard between the two of you, only sound to be heard is the insistent tapping of your foot. an attempt to edge her into submission. 

taking one step closer, your cologne starting to invade her sense, numbing the frustration nudged in her mind. “is this what you really want? to act like an absolute brat, go to bed angry, and leave this all unresolved just so you can cry to me in the middle of the night when you want me to hold you.” 

“t-that’s not— i don’t do that.” abby defends, breaking her silence for the first time since the two of you headed home. 

“oh? you don’t?” your tongue pokes through your cheek, shaking your head at her in the process. all the fucking talk in the world but when it comes to you? she never has it in her fight back when you do. “okay. fine. let’s just pretend you don’t for one second. why on earth are you pissed at me for talking to people we both know?” 

“you’re calling it talking? please you fucking get off on flirting with other people in front of me.” perhaps she wasn’t thinking clearly, all the pent up frustration doing the talking for her but it spilled before she could halt her words. 

this time she was met with silence, as you roll the sleeves to your elbows carefully, exposing your tattoo forearms, the ones she loves so dearly. abby can’t read you, fuck, you look stone cold. processing what she just said to you as you reassess. 

if abby wants to play dirty, you’ll play goddamn dirty. 

“that’s what you think?” you laughed, dryly but sarcastically in her direction. “you’re gonna stand there, tell me m’flustered over some other girl? right in front of you? my girl? better yet, you wanna say i’m flirting with them?” you scoffed, running your fingers through your hair and tugging gently. 

abby didn’t know why you had switched from being so sweet, soft, and gentle, to suddenly pissed off, and annoyed. it was a joke. a joke she always tells you. always tells you that other girls make you flustered when you suddenly get warm and hot in a room. a joke that you usually laugh at and say something like ‘if it’s not because of you, then i am not flustered, i am pissed off’ and let it go. but since coming home, you’ve been downright moody and pissed off. “it was a joke” she sighed, shrugging off her jacket.

“a joke” you laughed and moved closer, not enough but one step was enough to have her baby blue eyes locking onto yours. “a bit of an overused joke, don’t you think, baby?” you’re scoffing again, cocking your head to the side. “a joke that you should know pisses me off by now”

“babe i didn’t mean it seriously. i know that you dont have eyes for anyone else” abby sighed again, looking at you with softer eyes. softer ones than a few hours ago. ones that would usually have you kneeling at her feet, worshiping the ground she walks on, and doing whatever she wanted you to do. tonight though? tonight you weren’t doing any of that. so she knew she had pissed you off with her joke. 

she’s barely able to keep up with her own thoughts circling in her brain, let alone able to keep up with how fast you’re moving. one second you’re standing so far away from her, so far away from her reach to being right in front of her. looking down at her with a clenched jaw. a clenched jaw that she usually finds so attractive, but now her throat is dry and she’s looking up at you with wide eyes and a pout on her face. “so you think that any girl i see makes me flustered?” you questioned, inching your face closer.

“no! s’not what i mean” she mumbled, shaking her head and closing her eyes.

“no? then what did you mean?”

“it was just a harmless joke, babe. really”

abby chokes out a sound. you can’t really tell when you’re grabbing onto her hand and tilting your head to the side more, your breath fanning her face hotly. “harmless joke?” you’re asking, eyes flickering over the way her eyes flutter open and she’s gasping softly when you’re out of nowhere shoving her hand down your pants. a crimson blush coating her cheeks upon feeling just how wet you are. “you wear those tight fuckin’ pants, that shirt that shows everything, and you think i am flustered because of them? 

“i—”

you have her body boxed in against the wall. her hand shoved down your pants. her brain and body are fighting against each other. one side is telling her to behave and do nothing until you let her do something. but her brain is telling her to touch you. have you gasping under her touch and make you forget all about the joke. and yet she can’t. not when you’re looking down at her like that.

“have you ever taken notice to understand you are the most beautiful person in the entire world, and every single day i am with you or near you, i can’t contain myself? do you really forget how wet you make me?” you whispered against her neck, smirking. “have you forgotten how many times you have made me cum in the same night? forgotten the sounds i make when you touch me?” 

“no— i just—”

“you just what? c’mon baby, speak up, use your words”

“i was teasing you. m’sorry” abby whined, squirming against the wall when you’re sinking your teeth into her neck, and sucked softly. “m’sorry”

“yeah? you know how much i hate being teased” you’re growling, using your free hand and wrapping it around her throat. grinning smugly at the small gasp she lets out when you squeeze just enough. “get on your knees, clean up the mess you made and maybe i’ll think about forgiving you. depends on if you do a good job or not”

[motherlvr]

I just found your blog but I love your fics omg. I don’t know if you’ve received a request like this, so forgive me if you have. But do you think you could do a sickfic with the reader taking care of Miles?

i havent gotten this req yet, tysm for requesting!

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wc: 1k

Pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x f! reader (could possibly be read for 1610! Miles as well)

Summary: Miles has been acting off, so you decide to pay him a visit.

Warnings: established relationship, sick fic, cursing, fluff

----------

Staring at your phone's messages, you awaited a response from Miles. But he hasn't been responding to you all afternoon. He never does that. So, it's only natural that this raised suspicion within you.

Miles made the mistake of granting you a spare key to his dorm a while ago. Since you lived on the same campus, you decided to pay him a little visit. It's not like this was the first time you've shown up unannounced, anyway.

Walking down the hallways of your school, you successfully found his dorm. You knocked on his door, "Miles, it's me. I'm coming in." Putting in the key to his door, you unlocked it. Miles was seemingly unfazed as he stood in front of you. "Hola, princesa. ¿Qué tal?" (what’s up?) He said with nonchalance.

But there were a couple of indications that made you realize what his deal was. For one, he didn't greet you with a kiss. Matter of fact, he was standing a few feet further from you than usual. Even before you started dating, Miles would always leave a small kiss on your forehead or temple. And secondly, there were dark circles on his under-eyes that don't usually adorn his face. He was still indubitably charming, however. There was no denying that.

You raised an accusatory eyebrow at him, and he immediately knew you saw straight through him. "You're sick. Aren't you, Miles?"

He almost rolled his eyes at how well you could read him. "I'm fine. It's nothin', ma." He shrugged, but his voice was laced with a subtle rasp. Still enough for you to pick up on, however.

"C'mon, even big tough douches get sick sometimes." You hit him lightly on the chest and grinned at him. Entering his dorm, you asked him, "Have you even eaten anything?" He brushed off your question. Instead, he said,

"You're lookin' pretty-" trying to change the subject, but you cut him off. "Good try, Miles. Wait here, I'll be back!" You promptly ran out the door, Miles stood there dumbfounded.

Within less than ten minutes, you returned to his dorm as promised. With a whole bundle of supplies. "Alright babe, sit." You grabbed him by his arm and sat him on his bed. "Estoy bien, mami. Really. You don't gotta do all this." He told you. But you didn't buy it. Holding up the back of your hand to his forehead, you winced. "Miles, you're burning hot. Temperature-wise." You winked at him.

Unpacking all the supplies you brought, you gave him medicine to take. "This stuff is magic, it'll help you feel better in no time." You said as you handed him the bottle. Glancing at the bottle in skepticism, he told you, “I ain't that sick.” His voice came out atypically groggy.

Much to his dismay, you whipped out a thermometer and put it in his mouth. He didn't even see where it came from. Within a few seconds, it read an unusually high temperature. As you suspected. Putting your hands on your hips, you told him, "Miles. You’re 101 degrees. Take the damn medicine or else I'll feed it to you."

Miles always put on a front. A facade that he didn't need anyone, a 'tough guy' front. But you knew better.

He finally gave in and took the medicine, your eyes trailing to his adam's apple that bobbed as he downed it. Shaking off your wandering gaze, you handed him a bowl and told him, "I brought you some soup as well." Staring up at you, he accepted it. He looked at you with adoration in his eyes. As long as you were here with him, he'd look forward to waking up in the morning.

A few moments passed by and he said, “...Gracias, mami.” “Of course, Miles.” You replied, gently placing a kiss on his forehead. He backed away slightly and concernedly said, "You're going to get sick, ma."

"It'd be worth it." You carelessly grinned at him, and he was sure you could singlehandedly cure him with your smile.

The sun was already starting to set, so you decided to stay at his dorm for the night to make sure he was taking care of himself. Behind closed doors, there was no doubt in his mind that he'd stand outside in the cold rain for hours if it meant you'd stay here with him.

The next morning, you somehow ended up with his arms wrapped around your waist, your back snuggled against his torso. At least you attempted to keep a safe distance the night before. Can't say you didn't try. Stirring awake, you noticed Miles was already up.

But unbeknownst to you, he's been up longer than you'd think, silently listening to the soothing thump of your heart. Glancing up at him, he pressed his lips to your temple.

"¿Cómo te sientes?" (how do you feel?) He said, the rasp in his voice almost undetectable. You let out a small chuckle at the irony, "I feel like I should be asking you that." You replied. Waking up from your trance, you remembered that it was a school day. Looking for your phone, you asked him frantically,

"What time is it? We're going to be late for class, Miles." He shook off your fears, reassuring you. "Cálmate, princesa. We got time."

Letting out a sigh of relief, you relished in his embrace, not wanting to ruin this rare moment of quietude. Maybe you should've been more careful around him, but how could you when he was holding you like this?

It was almost a perfect way to wake up in the morning. You silently hoped you could stay like this a while longer with him. And little did you know that your wish would be granted. Just not in the way you initially hoped.

An abrupt sneeze interrupted the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. You slapped your face with your hand. Groaning at how warm it felt, you exclaimed,

"Oh, fuck."

Needless to say, both of you were in this together. Whether you liked it or not.

----------

estoy bien - i'm good

cálmate - calm down

princesa - princess

gracias - thank you

[wheels-of-despair]

Gonna Need A Bigger Bathtub Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman, Eddie, and the rest of the Hellfire nerds have been sentenced to helping out at the school carnival. There will be casualties. (EW kinda hijacked this fic, but it's still a wild night for all!) Contains: Everyone's own personal hell, violations of child labor laws, carnival games, heroic rescues, new pets, a happy ending... for most. Words: 2.8k

"This is such bullshit," Eddie growls, slamming the front door of his van.

"It's one day," you remind him as you slide out of the passenger's seat. "Half a day, really. It's the price of a diploma."

You meet at the back doors, where the rest of Hellfire is piling out into the sweltering parking lot of Hawkins High. On a damn Saturday.

"Eddie?" He turns to you, misery on his face. It's still decorated with traces of fading yellow bruises from the rumble with the jocks. So is everyone else's. "I tell you this with all the love in my heart, but: Suck it up, buttercup."

"Easy for you to say," he sighs, stripping himself of his battle vest and emptying his pockets into an old coffee can. "You're not in the dunking booth."

He slams the back door, locks it, and looks at his keys with hesitation. "I'll hold 'em," you offer. You pocket Eddie's keys, and he throws an arm across your shoulders as you walk toward the field behind the high school where the carnival is being held. The rest of the boys reluctantly follow along behind you.

Your official assignments were distributed last night, after you helped set this shit-show up. Now you're here, at the damn Hawkins High Carnival Fun-Raiser, ready to raise money (and fun!) for the stupid school you're leaving behind in just a few weeks. Eddie's graduating, you remind yourself. This is a small price to pay for that diploma he's been working so hard for.

"Where have you been?" Miss Click screeches when she spots you, waving her clipboard in frustration. "It's almost time to open! Go get set up! Now!"

You answer with mumbles and half-assed salutes as you pass. Today is going to majorly suck.

"This is me," you sigh mournfully, stopping at your assigned booth. The rest of the boys keep trudging toward their own personal hells, but Eddie stays with you to say goodbye. "Close your eyes, hold your nose, think of Ozzy."

"Who told you the secret to giving great ora—" You cut him off with a shove in the direction of the dunking booth, and he turns around and walks backward to grin at you. And then he stumbles, catching himself just in time to avoid a fall. You cover your mouth to hide a laugh, and he flips you the bird before he turns around.

You have been awarded the honor of running the fish bowl game. It's a table full of fish bowls that people try to throw ping pong balls into. If they win, they get a live fish in a plastic bag. You're hoping for a quiet night, banking on the fact that most people probably don't come to the carnival for a new pet.

You're in a good location; you can see most of the boys from your booth. Jeff is in charge of the balloon game across the way, where people throw darts at balloons and pop them for prizes. Grant's manning the Lucky Duck Pond nearby, where toddlers will pick up a duck and feel like a little winner every time. Gareth is glowering at his popcorn cart a little to your left. And when you stand in the corner and lean out a little, you can see Eddie eyeing the dunking booth warily.

Assorted jocks are set up with easy-to-assemble sports games. Uniformed cheerleaders sell raffle tickets. You have Patrick McKinney with some kind of basketball game to your right, and Chrissy Cunningham in the Kissing Booth to your left. That seems sanitary.

"How are we doing over here?" Overlord Click asks.

"Ready and waiting," you deadpan.

"Why haven't you put the fish in yet?"

"What?" you ask.

"You're supposed put the fish in the fishbowls, silly."

You look from the massive bucket of goldfish in plastic bags to the fishbowls.

"You want people to throw balls at the fish?"

"Why do you think it's called the fish bowl game?" she asks.

"Because you toss a ball into a bowl and win a fish?"

"Put the fish in the bowls," she orders.

"And if I don't?"

"Then perhaps Principal Higgins will have second thoughts about letting you and your little friends off so easy," she says through pursed lips. "Now put the fish in the bowls, or I will put someone who can follow simple instructions in charge of this booth."

You'd like to put her in a fish bowl and let kids throw balls at her. Maybe let someone dunk their balls in her bowl, too. But the thought of Hellfire having suffered a week of detention for nothing gets to you. You reach for a fish bag, untie it, and carefully dump the poor little guy into a bowl.

"Every two or three bowls will do," she says. "We don't want to run out of prizes."

She walks away, and you want to chuck a fucking fish bowl at her.

You stare at the bucket of bagged fish and settle for staggering three of them across the front row of bowls so they're visible to people walking by. You apologize to the little guys as you pour them in.

You're surprised by how many people are willing to haul a goldfish around the carnival all day. But they get their dumb balls in and take their bagged fish and carry on. You take money and distribute fish until dusk, when your relief shows up to grant you fifteen minutes to eat and use the bathroom. How generous.

Since you have no appetite, you decide to check on the boys.

"Hey," you grin at Grant, yawning with boredom by his little duck pond. "Gettin' lucky yet?"

"Kill me," he mouths as a new herd of toddlers approaches. You back away from them with a horrified expression, and he laughs as he takes their mom's money.

"How's it going?" you ask Jeff, leaning against the plywood outside of his balloon-filled booth.

"Oh, just great," he rolls his eyes. "Love watching these degenerates throw darts in my direction. If I get hit, I will sue."

"As you should," you affirm.

"I'd rather be here than in the dunking booth, though," he says. "Poor Eddie, man."

You turn and look in Eddie's direction. He looks like a drowned rat.

Because the person trading money for balls is Jason Carver.

"Oh, no," you groan. "See ya," you say quickly. Jeff waves, then presses himself against the plywood wall as another wave of darts are launched toward the balloons.

There's a long line of jocks waiting for a shot to dunk the freak. It looks like he's barely catching his breath between drops, and exerting all his energy into crawling back on the stool.

"Look here, boys," Jason Carver says loudly when he spots you. "Does the little freak girl wanna play?"

"Maybe she does," you respond. "But her break's almost over, so she won't have time unless these gentlemen want to let a lady cut in line."

Jason gives his flunkies a look, and they part for you like a sea of dickheads. Eddie's breathing heavily on his little stool above the tank and still trying to brush his wet hair out of his face from the last dunk.

"Three tries for $3, miss," Jason says sweetly. Eddie's spotted you, and is shaking his head, but you hand over your cash. Jason gives you three balls.

You throw them quickly, before the pricks can figure out what you're doing. You launch them high and far, way over the target and into the woods. You almost wish the gym teacher could've seen it.

"You bitch," Jason seethes.

"And yet, you're the one who has to fetch," you smile, walking around him to the tank. You reach in and hand Eddie a hair tie. "It's almost over," you remind him. Eddie's in the process of tying his hair back when he's sent into the water again. You both yelp in surprise; Eddie at being dropped again without warning, and you from getting drenched by the splash. You turn to see Carver leaning against the target with a smirk on his face. He set it off manually.

"Thanks for that," you smile sarcastically. "It's really hot out here. I don't envy the person who has to suck Higgins' sweaty balls tonight. Maybe you should suggest he take a dip in the tank before the carnival closes."

You leave before he can work out what you've said, checking your watch to see that you need to get back to your fishy booth.

More fish have been put into open containers. Damn you, temp!

Business carries on as usual, until you notice that two elementary-aged kids are standing off to the side and watching you.

"Can I help you?" you finally ask, sick of being stared at like… a goldfish in a bowl.

"My fish died," Brace-Face pouts. His pal Glasses looks on nervously.

"What'd you do to it?"

"I didn't do anything to it!" he argues with a stamp of his little foot. "You gave me a bad one!"

"No refunds or exchanges." Is this an official policy? Probably not. Are you going to indulge this brat? Definitely not.

"Told you you shouldn't have taken it in the bounce house," Glasses mutters. Your eyes narrow.

"You took a live fish into the bounce house?" you ask.

Brace-Face freezes.

"Give it," you command, holding out your hand for the dead fish. He drops the bag into your hand. The poor little fishy is indeed dead; floating upside down in a plastic prison filled with too-warm water. You turn your gaze from the fish to the kids. "Scram."

They do.

"What was that about?" Miss Click asks, appearing out of nowhere.

"His fish died and he didn't want it anymore," you shrug.

"Did you give him a new one?"

"No."

"Good," she sighs. "We can return the live ones and get a refund when the carnival is over."

"The live ones?" you ask.

"There are bound to be casualties," she shrugs. "Anyway, I'm here for a cash pickup."

You take a fistful of bills out of your apron and hand them to her, concocting a plan as she counts the money and writes on her clipboard.

When she leaves, you dart over to Gareth.

"Give me some popcorn bags."

"Why?"

You huff in annoyance. He puts on his customer service voice.

"Small, medium, or large, ma'am?"

"Large."

He hands you a stack.

"Come see me when you get a break," you instruct, tucking them under your arm and returning to your booth.

Fun fact: You can fit four fish bags into one large popcorn bag.

The first batch of refugees (and Eddie's keys) are smuggled away by Jeff after a whispered explanation. He walks away with a grin and a popcorn bag held to his chest, looking like everyone else walking around the carnival with a snack.

Grant and Gareth's breaks come next, and eight more fish are rescued. They seem pleased to be sticking it to The Man and saving lives. Eddie is the last person to get a break, only an hour before the carnival is scheduled to close. This event is violating so many labor laws.

"This is the worst day of my life," he groans, stepping over the side of your booth and collapsing in the grass beside you. He's still dripping from his last dunk.

"Then I really hate to ask, but…" you bite your lip. "I need a favor."

Your sweet Eddie, soggy and wet and miserable, is the hero of the day. He transports twelve fish to the safety of the van. After his last run, he comes back with flushed cheeks and a twinkle in his eye.

"What about these little guys?" he asks, pointing to the fish in the bowls.

"I think their fates have been decided by a crueler god," you sigh.

"Munson! Your break is over! Stop loitering and get back to your booth!" the aforementioned crueler god barks, chasing him off with a threatening wave of her clipboard.

That's alright. Less than an hour to go, twenty-four fish saved, and a diploma with Eddie Munson's name on it being printed very soon. It's worth it.

When the time comes to pack up, Miss Click comes to collect the rest of your cash.

"How much do you get for taking the fish back?"

"How many are left?" she asks, eyes darting from her fistful of cash to the bucket that the boys of Corroded Coffin helped you empty.

"Just the ones in the bowls," you answer.

She performs a quick fish count and cringes. There are ten left.

"I don't even think it's worth trying to take those back," she sighs.

"Can I have them?" you ask. She eyes you suspiciously. "I've grown attached to the little fellas," you shrug, looking to the ground shyly.

"Fine," she laughs. "It's barely a dollar's worth of fish, and saves me an hour. You did a good job, moving so many! I bet there's a lot of happy kids out there, and a lot of dough in here!" She waves the leather zipper pouch containing the funds.

You smile, grateful that she didn't notice how few people were actually walking around with fish.

"We have to return the bowls though, so you'll have to put them in bags when you take them."

"That's alright," you grin. "I can handle bags."

You bag your remaining fish and present them to the boys with a grin when the post-carnival clean-up is complete.

"Look, guys! I get to bring a few fishies home!"

Your joy is met with eye-rolls and groans.

"What the hell are you gonna do with all those?" Eddie asks once you're safely in the fish-filled van.

"Eat them?" Gareth suggests.

"I bet if I put them into the tub with you, they'd eventually nibble you to death," you threaten.

"Nah, don't do that," Jeff says. "His funk will kill the poor little fishies." Gareth smacks him, and a playful slap fight breaks out in the back of the van.

You're all laughing as you pull out of the parking lot… but your smile soon fades. What are you going to do with all of these fish?

"Anybody want to take a fish or two home?" you ask hopefully.

"Nope," the boys in the back say in unison.

"Eddie?"

He puts his hand up, blocking his face from your view so you can't work your puppy-eyed magic. You roll your eyes.

"I'm gonna need a bigger bathtub," you sigh.

Thirty minutes later, after Jeff and Grant are dropped off, Eddie pulls into your driveway.

"How are you going to break it to Mom that you brought home a hundred fish?" Gareth grins.

"I had accomplices," you remind him. "And there are only… thirty-four?!"

Two Days Later

"Okay, babies, are we ready?" you ask, smiling down into one of two buckets full of goldfish.

Much to your surprise, your mother did not murder you for bringing home 34 mostly stolen goldfish. She found the situation hilarious, and declared that she'd always wanted a backyard fish pond anyway.

Your babies were freed from their bags and put into buckets for the night. The next morning, there was a group expedition to the home improvement store.

It took all weekend to get the hole dug and the liner laid and the filters installed, but you all had so much fun doing it.

(Except maybe Gareth, who hissed "I'll get you for this" every time he stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow.)

There's still work to be done with the overall landscaping, but flowers are your mother's department, so those can wait. Now, it's time to introduce your fishies to their new home.

You look to Eddie, standing on the other side of the little pond with a fish-filled bucket of his own.

"Release the fishes!" your mom calls, camera at the ready.

You both start to pour, slowly, and watch the little gold creatures plop into the pond and start swimming. When the buckets are empty, you set them aside and meet in the middle, kneeling beside the pond to peer down into it.

"They look so happy," you whisper.

"Well, yeah," Gareth grunts, dropping to his knees beside you. "They have a memory span of like three seconds."

"So do you," you and Eddie say together, looking away from your fish long enough to smirk at each other.

"That's good, though," Eddie says quietly, wrapping an arm around you. "Because they don't remember the carnival. They've already forgotten all the bad stuff. This is their life now."

"And it's gonna be a good one," you smile, leaning into him.

"How do we forget that fucking carnival?" Gareth mumbles.

Eddie glances back to see how far away your mom is. She's staring at a butterfly on one of her flowers through the camera's viewfinder.

"The good shit's in the van," he whispers. "Our memory loss comes later."

[gabgabwrites]

BUNDLE | Det. David Loki

summary ⇝ your coworker planted the idea of starting a family in your mind, now having you wanting to start one of your own, only to find out David is on the same page.

warnings ⇝ husband!David, language, pet names (baby, darling, angel, mama), smut! p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink?, titty worship, grinding, oral (F), fingering, pregnancy, mdni!

You kicked off your shiny, new heels that's pinched your feet, and replaced them with your much more comfier slippers. A long, tired sigh left your lips as you shrugged your coat off and hung it up.

After placing the keys into the decorative bowl, you went to the bathroom to wash your hands, about to start dinner.

Now you had a pot boiling on the stove with long, doughy stems softening. Bellows of steam coming up, as the water bubbles and boiled.

You were busy stirring the noodles when the sound of the front door opening and closing caught your attention, followed by the thud of heavy footsteps. David appeared in the kitchen doorway, lingering for a moment as he spotted you making dinner. He approached slowly, setting his keys down on the counter with a soft clink.

"Hey," he mumbled, his voice thick with fatigue, tension lingering in the air as his hand swept wearily through his hair.

"Hi," you chirped, feeling the warm fumes of smoke frame your face.

David took a couple more steps until he was right behind you, pausing for a moment before slowly wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you towards his body in a gentle hold. He released a long sigh, bringing his chin down and leaning it against the crook of your neck.

"Long day?" You asked gently, leaning into his touch.

"Very long," he answered simply, his tone slightly muffled as half of his face was buried in the crook of your neck. David went quiet for a moment, seeming to just enjoy being close to you and being able to hold you. After a few seconds he spoke again, though his words were slightly mumbled against the skin of your neck. "What's for dinner, hm?"

"Alfredo."

"Alfredo, huh?" He mumbled, his breath warm against your skin. He lifted his hand and ran his thumb along your side a couple times before speaking again. "Smells good," He took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the scent of the food that you were cooking, before he continued again. "I'm starving." He said, voice still low and his chin still resting on your shoulder.

"Well you're going to have to wait a little," you turned around to face him, still in his embrace.

"Damn it," he muttered, his grip around your waist only slightly tightening when you turned around to face him, he lifted his chin from your shoulder and straightened up, now able to look down at you clearly. "Not fair," he mumbled in a playful tone, one corner of his lips curving into a sly smirk.

"What's not fair is having my husband come home late, leaving me all alone," you said with a smile, brushing some of his hair out his face.

"Mmm, and how can I make it up to you, hm?" He asked, lifting his hand and gently catching your wrist as you brushed the hair away from his face. The smirk on his face only grew as he pulled your hand from his face and brought it up to his lips, leaving a slow kiss on each of your knuckles.

"Let me finish dinner and then I'll decide."

A small scoff of amusement escaped his lips when you gave him orders, though he relented. David released your waist, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Fine," He groaned with a small hint of playfulness still in his voice, "I'll be on my good behavior while you finish."

"Good," you grinned, before turning to pick the pot of pasta up to drain it. The corners of his lips curved into a smirk as you turned back to tend to the pasta, leaving him with a good view of your backside.

David's gaze traveled up and down your body a few times; the view was nice, really nice. He watched you in silence as you strained the pasta, his smirk lingering on his lips.

"What you can do for me...is set up the table."

"I'm basically your slave, aren't I?" He teased, raising an eyebrow as you started to give him more orders. He let out a huff of feigned annoyance, though it was easy to tell he was just being playful. He pushed himself off from where he was leaning on the counter and started towards the cabinets. "I see how it is."

David started grabbing dishes and silverware and set up the table. He was quick and thorough, and he took a moment to watch you work at the stove for a few seconds before he continued.

Once he had finished with the table, he came up behind you again and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body against his as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbled against your skin, closing his eyes a he began to gently nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck. "Mm. Almost ready?" He mumbled, tightening his grip around your waist.

"Yes, David," you chuckled while shaking your head, mixing the creamy sauce with the pasta, before throwing in the diced ham and mushrooms.

"Finally," He said in a hum of amusement. He left a couple kisses against your neck, his grip on your waist still holding firm. "'M so hungry, I think I'm gonna die..." He rasped, in an obviously over dramatic tone, though the sarcasm was clear as day.

"No... what will I do with this lovely house, and all the money, and my bed will be so lonely..." you faked a gasp

A huff of laughter escaped his lips, the smirk on his face growing wider as you played along with his dramatics.

David lifted his head a bit so he could speak to you more clearly, still holding you against his body. "No, darling. Please be gentle, you're breaking my heart," He murmured in equally feigned dramatics.

"Or I'll get it embalmed."

A scoff of laughter escaped his lips again when you said that, and he gave it a couple seconds of thought before he spoke. He hummed for a moment, his arms still around your waist as he gently nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. "You'd keep my dead body as decoration?" He mumbled.

"Yeah? I think it would make a lovely center piece in the living room, don't you think?"

He gently nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck again, leaving a few kisses against your skin.

"If it means I won't be buried, I'll take being a vase." He muttered, holding you a bit tighter for a moment.

Once seeing you were practically finished, David released you and went to sit down at the dinner table. It was a small, round table that was a light brown, with a moss green table runner and one unlit candle decor in the middle.

David sat at the table, crossing one leg over the other as he waited for you.

When you walked in with the pasta bowl, he looked up for a moment and his gaze landed on you first before it moved to the food. His stomach growled lowly and he gave a sly smile in response.

"Mmm. Smells good," he mumbled, watching as you placed the bowl down on the table before sitting down across from him.

"Hope it's as good as it smells," you handed him the dishing spoon. He took the spoon from you, scooping a decent amount of pasta onto his plate.

"I'm sure it'll taste good, you're a good cook," He said, giving you a small smile and starting to eat. After a few minutes of eating in silence, he spoke up. "Oh, that's good," he muttered, swallowing the food he had in his mouth before speaking again. "Tastes amazing, darling."

"Thank you," you smile, before taking another bite. "Mm, so how was work?" David took another bite of the pasta before he answered, swallowing his food before he spoke.

"Work was annoying," he responded with a huff. "It was one of those days where everything went wrong and I was in a bad mood because of it," he answered, stuffing another bite of food in his mouth before continuing. "How about you? How has your day been?"

"It was fine, Margret got engaged so that's nice. Fourteen karat gold and the biggest fucking boulder I've ever seen. Expensive, but hideous," you told him as you pushed food around on your plate.

David snickered at your response, his eyes instinctively glancing at your ring that was on your finger, a delicate band with a pretty stone that managed to capture the light. "Her fiancé a good guy?"

"I don't know much about him, Margret doesn't speak to me about mundane things," you sigh, picking up your glass and taking a sip.

He hummed, taking a couple more bites of food before he spoke again.

"So, you work with a bunch of people, but don't know them in depth?" He asked, picking up his water glass and taking a drink before gesturing to you with his hand. "I feel like you're more of an introvert that way, you keep to yourself at work?"

"Well there's always Anne, she's the closest person to me there so," you shrugged.

He raised his eyebrows as you mentioned this other person. "Anne, huh?" He mumbled, taking another bite of his food before speaking up again. "You say you're the closest to her out of everyone else?" He repeated, swallowing his food and putting his fork and knife down for a moment.

"At work, yes," David nodded before picking up his fork and went back to eating, his only response to your words being a small hum.

After a while, he finished the last of the food on his plate and sat back in his chair, his gaze slowly landing on you. He watched you in silence as you continued to eat, a small smirk on his face as he thought about something.

David let out a small huff of air as you finished your food, his smirk growing deeper as he spoke up.

"Did you save room for dessert?" He asked, voice low and holding a hint of playful coyness.

"I didn't know we had dessert," your eyes met his, with one brow lifted.

He chuckled, shifting in his seat and adjusting his legs a bit before he spoke. "Well I can think of something sweet you might like, though it's more of a dessert for me than it is to you," he mumbled, his smirk turning a bit cheeky as he spoke.

"And what's that?" He leaned forward a bit more in his chair, resting his arms on the table as he looked you in the eye. He paused for a moment longer, his smirk never leaving his face as he spoke up in a rather playful tone.

"Why don't you come over here and find out, darling?" He purred gently, waving his hand to gesture you to come closer.

The corners of your mouth tipped up, you slid off your chair before stalking over to him. He turned in his chair and spread his legs, allowing for you to stand between them.

He raised one hand and crooked a finger in a gesture for you to come closer and stand directly in front of him. "C'mere, love," he mumbled, his eyes never leaving you.

He reached up and took you by the hips, pulling you into his lap so you were straddling him. He gently guided you into sitting down on his thighs until you were properly on his lap. He left his hands on your hips, his thumb gently tracing small circles into your skin as he looked you in the eye with a wide smirk.

"This is dessert?"

"Just a taste test," he mumbled, his smirk widening into a full blown cocky smile. He gently pulled you a bit closer on his lap, his hands moving to your hips and keeping a firm but gentle grip on them.

"Of?"

His rough hand gently slid to your jaw, his dark sleeve and tattooed fingers a dark contrast compared to your soft features and painted lips, from your worn, work makeup. His thumb glided from your cheek to your lips, rubbing your bottom lip before you felt a sudden pull, and suddenly his nose nudged yours and you were breathing the same air.

"This," his voice had an edge to it, laced with something much like desire before his hand moved to your nape and his lips found yours. It was a slow kiss, a testing kiss, one that tasted like pasta sauce and old tabaco.

He leant closer, lips closing around yours again before you two found a steady rhythm. You felt a gentle flick of his tongue on your bottom lip before deciding to speak up.

"U-Um, I didn't finish telling you about my day," you managed to get out. David gave you a Cheshire grin, his forehead pressed against yours, your breath fanning his lips and chin as he let you continue to speak. "Charlotte announced she's pregnant."

He paused for a moment, leaning back so he could see your facial expressions. He sat back in his chair, his hand still on your hips keeping you on his lap while the other let go of your hair and found your jaw again.

"Oh?" He mumbled. "When'd she tell you that?"

"Today, while waiting for my coffee."

He hummed in acknowledgement, his smirk widening when you confirmed it was announced today.

He reached up and gently hooked a thumb under your chin, lifting your head a bit so you'd look at him properly. "Yeah?" He mumbled again, his fingers dancing along the sensitive skin of your chin and jawline. You nodded.

He was silent for a moment longer, simply gazing at you for a few seconds before he spoke up again.

"How do you feel about that?" He asked, his voice still low and having a hint of playfulness to it.

"What do you mean?" He watched your eyebrows move a fraction together, his grin and eyes softening.

"How do you feel when someone else tells you they're having a kid?" He murmured, giving your cheek a small squeeze between his thumb and forefinger.

You felt your cheeks burn under his gaze. "I think it's nice...that she's starting a family."

He nodded a couple times, his hands moving down to your hips once more. He left them on your hips, his fingers tracing small circles into the fabric of your clothing.

"Do you want that someday?" He asked softly, pulling you a bit closer against his chest so you were flush against him.

You slowly nodded. "Yeah, it would be…nice."

He was silent for a moment longer, still gazing at you. "You said it'd be nice, twice," he repeated your words, his gaze flickering down to your legs resting on either side of him for a second. "Hm, I think it'd be more than nice," he added in that low tone of voice.

"You do?" Your voice almost sounded like a gasp, you and David never really had this conversation, so you couldn't fight the excitement ready to burst in your chest.

He nodded his head quickly, his gaze trailing back up to your face. "Yeah, I can picture it now. You, me...a couple of little ones running around," he said, his hands starting to gently trace small patterns along the sides of your waist.

You let your middle finger trail from his midsection to his breast bone, through the material of his button up. "How many?"

He shivered slightly at the movement of your hands and closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply as you trailed your fingers over his chest.

The grin on his face became even more cocky as he answered without hesitation. "Three, maybe four."

Now, it was your turn to let out a small hum. "We're not getting any younger," your voice was soft and airy. "I think the sooner we start trying, the better."

David felt this feeling in his chest, one he couldn't place. It was a warmth, one that made him smitten, yet full of lust. The thought of starting a family excited him, in both ways. "Tonight?"

"And every night."

With no hesitation, David shifted in his seat, causing you to fall forward. This action had your lips smash against his in an instant. His hands slid to your waist, one slid further to your behind where he gripped onto you, so that you wouldn't fall when he stood up.

Lips locked ferociously, never breaking while he carried you to your shared bedroom. He laid you on the bed where you had to break the kiss before slowly crawling over you and began to kiss you once more.

He tugged every item of clothing you had on, off, until you were there in your undergarments. You were perhaps not as gentle as you pulled his heavy jacket off, his shirt almost ripped open and his belt flying off, letting him step out his jeans and now in his tented, black briefs.

His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of your body. He was gentle, but firm. He wanted to make sure that you were ready for him. "I've been waiting for this for so long," he murmured between kisses.

"Yeah?" You asked softly while spreading your legs to give him more access, allowing him to push his body weight further onto you, his began a trail from your lips to your neck where they lay peppered kissed.

"Mhm" He hummed, nipping at your neck before moving down to your collarbone, leaving small marks. "You have no idea how much I've thought about this, darling. Starting a family."

"Why didn't you say anything?" You saw his shoulders droop, his lips stopping their action, and a sigh caressed your skin.

"I saw how upset you were about the case I had, on the two little girls, and I didn't want you to get negative thoughts," he admitted.

"Oh, Dave," you sighed out, hand going to his hair where you gentle brushed it with your fingers. "That's in the past, and I'm not so worried about something like that happening again. I think that spooked everyone, but I'm ready now."

He raised his chin, looking in your eyes for any hesitation. "You sure?"

You raised your hips, and bent your legs. This allowed for his prominent boner to nestle in the warm space between your thighs. "Tell me when you feel it, then let me know if you think I'm sure or not."

He waited about thirty seconds before he felt it, a new warm and wet feeling seeping into his underwear, a feeling that definitely wasn't from him. "Jesus Christ," he groaned.

"Uhuh, still thinking if I'm ready or not?"

"You're gonna be the death of me," he muttered, shifting himself to rest on his knees, now towering over you. His large hands cupped the back of your knees and threw them up, ankles caught on his shoulders.

He started to slowly grind his hips against you, his clothed cock, strained and leaking, rubbing against your core. You let out a hefty sigh at the pleasurable feeling.

"David," you whined, needing him. Your toes curled at the idea of him filling you up.

"I know, baby, I know, but let me take my time. Get you ready."

"But I am ready."

David snickered with a shake of his head. "This is supposed to be slow and romantic," his one hand slid up the curve of your thigh, until his fingers found your waistband and began to pull, exposing your dripping arousal.

He could not stop the moan that rumbled from his chest at the sight. He bent at the hip, lips hovering over your creamy folds as he took a deep inhale, taking in your natural musk.

His tongue dipped out, licking at your cunt, long lashes fluttering shut. "Baby..." he groaned softly, before his lips wrapped around your clit, earning a sigh of bliss from you.

Your fingers found his slicked back hair, tugging at the roots to pull him deeper into you. He'd suck your folds into his mouth when his lips moved down. His rough fingers gentle against your skin as the pads of his fore and middle finger pressed against your puckering hole.

Your eyes screwed shut and your lips fell open when he sunk them in, past the fine-line tattoos. You couldn't help but grind your hips as his fingers pumped inside of you. His tongue would fold and lap against your clit, earning little moans from you.

"Mm, David," you gasped when his fingers curled inside of you. David continued his ministrations, enjoying the sounds of pleasure you were making.

He added a third finger, making you wince at the delicious pain, his free hand moving up the side of your body, where it found your still covered breasts. His hand crept under the cup and squeezed at the flesh. Fingers drawing to pinch at your sensitive nipple.

"That's it, baby," he murmured against your skin, his teeth nipping lightly at the sensitive spots he knew you loved. From his nose to his chin and even down his collar was wet from saliva and arousal. David was enjoying the way you writhed against him. He moved his face up your body, trailing kisses up your stomach and chest until he reached your neck. He planted a few soft kisses there before biting down, his teeth leaving a mark on your skin.

"You taste so good," he whispered in your ear, his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

His tongue then found your nipple after pushing your bra up, swirling it around and gently biting down, causing you to arch into his mouth. He groaned against your skin as your hands tangled in his hair, holding him there. He loved the way you responded to every touch, every kiss, how sensitive you were to him.

The palm of his hand dug against your puffy nub. His palm ground against you, applying the perfect amount of pressure that had you practically screaming.

Your body was on fire as he continued his assault on you, his lips and fingers and tongue working together to send you spiraling into ecstasy.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in closer as your breath came in short pants. "David," you gasped, your voice hoarse from the sounds you had been making.

He chuckled against your skin, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I make you feel like this."

"Uhuh," you moaned, feeling your tummy tighten.

"That's my good girl," he murmured against your neck, his lips trailing along your skin. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to rile you up and get you begging for more.

He pushed you down onto the bed, pinning you beneath him as his lips found your neck again. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin there, leaving more marks in his wake.

"Cum for me, cum for me, baby," he groaned against your skin, feeling you tighten around his fingers.

You tossed your head back, feeling a white, hot orgasm rip from you, painting his hand. He worked the orgasm from you, slowing his movements as you came down from your high.

His fingers slipped out from you, sucking them into his lips to lick your juices off his fingers. His eyes darkened as he tasted you on his fingers, a low growl escaping his lips. "You taste so good, baby," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

"Please, David, I can't take it anymore. I need you."

Your body was on fire, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pleaded with him to give you what you so desperately wanted. You couldn't remember ever feeling this intense, this desperate for anyone or anything before.

"Yeah mama? Won't make you wait longer," he said, pulling his boxers off him. He moved to hover over you, the weight of him hung heavy between his legs as his tip brushed your thigh. "Are you ready for me, baby?" he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

You nodded. "Please?"

You felt him nod, more to himself as he placed soft kissed against the skin of your jaw and neck. You shifted your hips until his tip prodded your entrance.

You both shared a moan as he pushed in. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he savoured you constricting around him.

"I love you," he panted as he began to move, his eyes never leaving yours. "I love you so much.” Then, his hips began to movie.

You felt the air leave your lungs with every punch of his hips. Your hand slinked over to his chin and move up his jaw where he leant into your touch, with a loving smile, which wobbled the more he thrusted his hips, out of pure pleasure. The way you touched him made his heart beat faster, made his body crave your touch even more. He wanted to be even closer, to be completely enveloped by you.

He angled his hips, trying to hit that one spot that made you breathless, that made your breath hitch in your throat. He loved seeing you like this, so lost in pleasure that you couldn't think, couldn't do anything other than moan and writhe under him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

His lips moved down to capture yours, moans muffled as his tongue swirled around yours. It was desperate and passionate.

He was losing himself in you, in the way your body responded to him, the way you made him feel. He never wanted this feeling to end, never wanted to lose this connection between you. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you even closer to him. He needed you as close as possible, wanted to feel every inch of you against him.

Your fingers found the taut skin of his shoulders before leaving red slashes across the flexing muscle. The pain you gave him spurred him on, thrusts becoming sharper as his cock hit the spongey part in you.

"David, 'm so close!" You choked out, words spilling from your lips into his.

"I know. You can do it, angel. Gonna make you a momma," he groaned. "Gonna give me babies. Make you all round, carrying my—fuck—children."

You moaned into his mouth. "David!" Before your second orgasm hit you like a tidal wave.

"Fuck!" David spilled deep inside of you, painting your walls a creamy white, filling up every crevice inside you.

With rugged pants and slowing thrusts, he stopped, still softening inside of you, keeping your hole plugged from spilling out his cum.

He brought a hand to brush some of your hair out your face, staring lovingly at your tired, worn and fucked out face. "You'll make the most beautiful mother," he whispered.

And it was to no one's surprise when a week later, you stared at the two lines on the three tests you held, heart swelling with joy.

Yeah, you were gonna make the most beautiful mother.

[merumis]

your son is watching tv upstairs. something bright and slow that he’s been into recently; you caught one episode a few days ago, watched as the alphabet painted its way across the screen in satisfying reds and blues. it reminds you a lot of the things you watched as a kid—soft music and sweet-voiced narrators.

the sound of a xylophone leaking from television speakers floats its way down your staircase, just loud enough that you can hear it.

you’re sitting at the kitchen counter—scrawling a grocery list underneath the one your husband has already started. fruit snacks, gallon bags, paper towels—not the trader joe’s ones. just above yours, two items of iwaizumi’s catch your eye: dark chocolate, silken tofu. he’s making mousse—the protein kind, obviously, but the one that melts on your tongue and then bites the back of it in that sweetly bitter sort of way.

there’s sets of drawn-on papers to your left. you’ve been waiting to put a couple on the fridge. your son is particularly proud of one, put it right on the top and smiled at you all wide while he did it. a woman in red crayon labeled mom, a man in blue labeled dad, and then a proud, smiling boy in orange between them, labeled me! in all big letters and exclamations.

you run a thumb over the top of it, feel the waxy residue collect on your skin, and then slide the corner of the paper between your fingers. you stand from the stool you were using and, with the drawing, make your way over to the fridge—pinning it with a red postcard magnet that iwaizumi’s mother got you from her most recent vacation.

there’s a jingle of keys at the front door. you turn at the sound, catching the soft swing of the door and the little routine iwaizumi’s made for himself at the end of the work day; key’s hung on their ring, wallet and work badge in the bowl by the door, shoes kicked off onto their shelf. his eyes catch yours and he smiles, softly—more like a greeting than anything else.

“didn’t know if you’d be home yet,” he says, and makes his way over to the kitchen. he slides into the stool you’d been using previously, stretching out his neck and back as he settles in. you lean back against the fridge.

“yeah,” you reply, “got out early, so i picked up the monster.” you gesture upstairs with a pointed finger. “figured he’d rather be at home than daycare.”

he nods, and then taps his fingers out against the counter. there’s this weird beat as he settles, the tap tap of his fingers filling out bits of silence. “either of you eaten yet?” he asks.

“no,” you say, “figured we’d wait for you.”

it’s then that your son comes tumbling downstairs playfully begging for dinner. he says something about hearing dad’s car, and then that he heard his keys, and he runs over and wraps himself around iwaizumi’s leg.

iwaizumi gets this big smile on his face—grabbing your son and pulling him up onto his lap. they exchange something that you don’t pay much attention to. you’re turned already, opening the fridge and scanning what’s in it.

“we could do tacos…” you start, “stir fry, vodka sauce-“

“why don’t we go out?” iwaizumi asks, and you can hear your son’s excitement at the idea, a little symphony—or cacophony, perhaps—of different restaurants he wants to go to filling the air of the kitchen.

“yeah,” you say, “that sounds good—let’s do that.”

iwaizumi lifts your son off his lap, telling him to go clean up himself and his room before you can leave, and he rushes up the staircase again, taking them two at a time.

the two of you have been doing this dance now for a while, you know. you’re pretty sure you both know. pieces of half-conversations spliced between interruptions and affection towards your son; quarter-baked commitments and yes’s that always sound more like maybe’s.

last night, he fell asleep first and you watched the rise and fall of his chest. you traced your fingertips along his shoulders and chest, wrinkling the cotton of his t-shirt between your skin and his.

you could’ve been twenty-one again—your bedroom soaked in the stench of rum and tequila and neither of you caring. him half-asleep, answering questions with closed eyes and mumbled sentences, his laughter warm as it brushed against your cheeks.

instead, you stilled your breath against him. you worried about waking him up, about what he would say if he knew you were up like this—if he would even say anything at all.

you still watch him now. a beat of anxiety hitting as you lean against the fridge. he’s playing with his hands, working his fingers against his palm up to his wrists.

“we need to-” you start, and you aren’t sure you can bring yourself to say the rest of it.

“talk,” iwaizumi says. he sighs. “i know.”

you walk over to the other end of the counter. when you rest your elbows on it, your knuckles brush up against his. you both inch towards each other until your fingers are flush against his.

“i love you.” you say, and you feel your throat start to tighten.

“i know,” iwaizumi replies. it’s quiet, not quite mumbled but just barely more than it.

“but i don’t think we-“ you begin, and you hang your head. you take your hands away from iwaizumi’s, propping yourself up on them, rubbing at your forehead, your temples, your eyes. “i don’t know.” you sigh. “i don’t know if we’re good for-" another breath, you catch iwaizumi's gaze for a second. for the first time in a while, you see the way he's aged in the past few years; sprinkled in grey hairs, the beginning of crow's feet. "i don't know."

you had an argument last week—as you do almost every Friday now, when you work from home and he makes his way back early. you couldn't name the topic of this fight, or really any of them, if you tried. you know you made a snarky comment, and he made one back, and that devolved into both of you yelling across the couch.

you got into an argument last night, too. prior to the late night gazing—because even with the fights, you always insisted on sleeping together. even now. but last night, you were arguing about work, his work and then yours, and maybe the groceries and where your son was going to school next year. you can't remember all the details—you don't particularly want to, either—and the day after it all becomes an abomination of anger anyway.

you're still looking at each other. you keep biting your lip between both sets of teeth, and you can see the way he's clenching his jaw.

"i know," he says for the third time tonight. he sounds so young when he says it, like you're in college and in love and you've just told him you're taking an internship across the country for the summer.

you hear your son upstairs, moving something around his room to clean up for dinner. he's not the best at keeping things clean, but when he does it, he's meticulous about it. you think he gets it from his father.

"i want it to be different," you say. "i don't want this." he shakes his head, gives you that tight-lipped smile.

"i know you don't," he replies, "i don't either, but-"

"but," you repeat.

your eyes flick to the stairs. you can still hear him cleaning up there, but you can't help but worry. when you settle your gaze on iwaizumi again, he's reaching a hand towards you. his fingers wrap around yours, his thumb pressing against the base of your knuckles.

"i won't grow to hate you," he says, "i won't do it. And if we stay married, i don't know how much longer that'll last."

you feel your face heat up, your throat tighten, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. you nod, silently, gripping his hand a little tighter.

"i know." you swallow something down, though you're not sure you could put a name to whatever it was. it feels like a jumble of everything inside of you. "me too."

you push yourself up and off the counter. neither of you say anything as you cross the threshold towards him. you wrap your arms around him, press your lips against his hairline. he raises an arm in front of you, reaching up to pull you closer by your shoulder.

"so this is it?" your voice is thick—hoarse—and still mumbled into his hair.

"yeah," your husband replies. you hear the crack in his voice. "yeah this is it."

your son yells from upstairs. he's ready to go, he says, and he's decided that you're going to his favorite mexican place. despite it all, you laugh into iwaizumi, and when your son comes tumbling down the stairs, you both compose yourselves.

you pull your son into you by the top of his head, ruffling his hair in the process. you can feel iwaizumi's arm around your waist—delicate and cautious and barely there in the first place.

and somewhere, in your chest or in your ribcage itself, you're not sure, you feel something that seems an awful lot like relief. even if it's small.