#so i could then break him out and have him owe me a favor'

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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[pinkrelish]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶Eddie's month began with a rough start, but as the days passed, and your time together grew, his mood improved. He opened up to you, and you listened. Then things escalated. Slow dancing in the garage? Openly flirting while hanging Christmas decorations? This wasn't what he was supposed to be doing with his coworker who was leaving in a few months. And to make matters worse..

"I swear I didn't hang that," he promised while Adrie held both your hands, giggling under the mistletoe.✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, mild sexual tension, light angst, depictions of poverty, mention of blood, reader wears eddie's work jacket, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 6/20 [wc: 16k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 6: May I Have This Dance?

Eddie opened the cabinet above the coffee machine in the breakroom, and took out his mug to replace it with a themed one of Garfield attempting to coax Nermal under a sprig of mistletoe for a kiss. He stepped back, admired the change in seasons, and clung onto the giddy elation before the impending stress wove knots into his muscles.

He’d be getting a lot of use out of that mug in the coming days..

————

Eddie disguised his crisis well.

He knocked on your desk while keeping the glass door open with his foot, “Hey, can you make me another pot of coffee?”

It was a favor you were happy to oblige. Pausing from thumbing through the filing cabinet, you smiled at him over your shoulder. “Sure!”

And later, he came to you again–diverting the stress from entering his eyes by focusing on the kindness in yours.

“Do you mind if I eat alone today?” he asked, flopping his black notebook back and forth for you to frown at.

“Fine, but you owe me.” And of course, he made it up to you the next afternoon, eating his sandwich made with the scraggy ends of the loaf, and no side container of leftovers, and downing it with a mug of coffee.

Adding onto that, Eddie concealed his problems through other means. Blocking out his suffering, disallowing it from bothering others, but to you, it was no bother.

You leaned over your desk to look into the garage, and asked Mr. Moore when he was passing by on the way to his office, “Did Eddie leave somewhere?”

“Awh, he’s probably out on a smoke break,” he said, rubbing his knuckles along his grayed beard.

“Another one?”

“Yeah, guess so.” He shrugged, inadvertently confirming your fears. “Been takin’ alottavem the past couple’a days.”

You had an inkling of what was going on when you caught Eddie eating his lunch earlier. Alone, scribbling in his notebook for the third time that week, dipping a knife into an unbranded metal can labeled PEANUT BUTTER and slathering the Government supplied commodity on a plain saltine cracker.

Sustenance to live, and hardly at that. You weren’t about to let him hide his misery behind excuses meant to keep you ignorant.

After closing, when everyone went home but you and Eddie, he poured himself the last of the coffee to stave off his hunger, and you shot up from your desk.

“Hey! I’m going out for a sec. I’ll be right back, ‘kay?”

He backed his lips off the mug mid-sip in order to remind you to be safe because it was dark out, and you really should wear brighter colors for cars to see you, and to slow down before the sharp turns because there could ice on the road and you could get hurt, and, and–

“Bye!” You cut off his worrying by riding past the doors with your eyes on him, not where you were going, narrowly missing a street pole by centimeters.

~~~

Back in record time–beating the previous record by default because you’d never had this idea before–you hopped off your bike, loaded your hands with the two paper bags sitting in the handlebar basket, and ripped the stapled receipt off them. You finagled your way into the garage.

“Eddie!” you shouted his name as you entered. And louder again as you approached him from behind. Tempting as it was, you didn’t want to scare him, but part of you hated raising your voice, as well. It felt blasphemous to disturb the scene which captured your heart time and time again.

He was at the workbench in the back corner, sat on a stool with his heavy boots on footrests, knees angled out, bouncing his legs in a rhythm offset from one another–most likely parroting the drumbeat of the tinny music funneling from his headphones so loud he’d surely lose his hearing one day.

The smooth expanse of his shoulder shifted and flowed under his coveralls as he worked, hunched over a set of parts he was cleaning. He settled his forearms on the edge of the creaky wood and swirled an old toothbrush into a bowl of cleaning solution, and scrubbed at the hunk of metal in his hands, setting it aside on the stained towel when he was finished to let it dry. A diligent worker, through and through. Tendons in his tired hands straining to hold the next slippery piece as he circled the bristles over the grooves craggy with grease. Muscles in his jaw tensing from the way he clenched his teeth in between mouthing the lyrics to the music vibrating his brain.

Concentration bundled itself between his eyebrows and above his scrunched nose.

It was endearing to watch him work; watch the menial things he was good at for no other reason than to familiarize yourself with all assets of him.

But good things must come to an end, for you had a better one in store.

You caught him right as he was dropping into a reserved headbang on a chord progression you could hear wailing from where you stood. “Hey there, handsome.”

He panicked, and knocked the headphones around the back of his neck. “Shit, I didn’t hear you come in.” He paused the cassette player clipped to his pocket with a sharp click, and after fixating on your sly grin for a second longer, he dropped his gaze to the oil-soaked paper bag in your hand. “Food?”

“The burger place down the street messed up my order,” you replied in soft amusement. “Do you want the extra?”

He didn’t need convincing.

~~~

The sounds of your togetherness filled the open room–wheels rolling on concrete, crinkly wrappers in your hands, and the grateful noises of him devouring his dinner. Sitting parallel to one another on the creepers, you rolled back and forth, brushing shoulders with Eddie on each pass, stuffing your faces until your taste buds dulled with french fry oil, and sparked with blooms of tangy ketchup.

Wordlessly, he told you he was ready to talk by coming to a stop past the point of your shoulders touching, and resting his arms atop his wide-spread knees, holding the last bites of his burger in front of his face.

You twisted around to observe the width of his back rise with a deep breath.

“Child support is late again. Happens every December, but it’ll come a day or two before it’s officially considered late in January.” Deepening his voice, he put an edge of distaste when speaking about Adrie’s mom, “She has the money–her and her husband have good jobs–so it’s just to be petty and get back at me, or whatever. Like being tied to me years later should affect our kid when I don’t even speak to her.”

“Eddie..”

He shook his head to dismiss the pointless pity imbued in your tender whisper of his name. “Doesn’t matter. Money’s tight, but we get paid tomorrow, so that’ll help.. I figured you knew something was up when I stopped eating with you, but anywhere I can save helps. I want to make sure Adrie has a good Christmas this year.”

Realizing something, he raised his hand to ward off any criticism you were about to give him, having been trained to expect it from others since his daughter was an infant. “I want to make it clear.. Adrie always has food,” he stated slowly, and from a place of loathsome apprehension in his chest.

“It never crossed my mind she wouldn’t.” You pushed yourself backwards on the rolly board, and leaned into him, bicep to bicep, gazes met. “I know you’re a good dad” –He glanced away– “You are, Eddie, and I know how well you take care of Adrie, even when shit like this happens. And Christmas will always be special because of how much you love her, not because of what you buy her.”

“But I want her to keep up with her friends, and bond over whatever they’re into.”

“I know you do..”

Even to his detriment, through the sacrifices he made, he’d make sure his daughter had whatever she wanted.

You ran a purposeful knuckle along his tensed tricep. It didn’t earn his eye contact, but he did relax his hand, dropping it to peel down the rest of the wrapper and finish his burger while you spoke. “Maybe they’ll mess up my order again tomorrow, and we can eat lunch together.. And maybe Robin’s mom will make an extra casserole for dinner tonight, and I can leave it in the breakroom, if that’s okay?”

“I’d appreciate it.” No malicious pride. No toxic masculinity. No senseless denial. Eddie accepted your offer with gratitude, and packed his trash into the paper bag while you still ate, settling in with his arms hugged around his knees, ensuring some part of your bodies remained touching–in this case, it was your shoulders again.

The sweet, trusting pressure of yourselves melding into each other’s comfort.

Then, while the candidness was raw, it was your turn to point your attention elsewhere as you asked something you were shy to voice out loud, “Uhm, when we were at Adrie’s school, her teacher kept saying something about, like, you not carrying her, and babying her, or whatever.” You gestured vaguely as if you weren’t eavesdropping the entire time. “And I’d been meaning to ask if I’m–uh?–too affectionate with her? Like if it’s weird, or something I shouldn’t be doing? You’re the parent and I never really asked if it was okay before picking her up, and hugging her, and–”

He cut you off.

“No, no, no.” His assurance was delivered swift, and earnest. “How you are with Adrie is fine by me. More than fine. It’s–It’s–Seriously, it’s great having her look up to someone who isn’t me.”

“What about what her teacher said?”

“I don’t care,” he scoffed. “I know she means well, but it’s not like Adrie’s going to be a kid forever, and if I want to coddle her, who gives a shit. Now, her teacher is great, and I don’t want to diminish what my uncle, and people like Steve and Nancy have done for my family, but for most of Adrie’s life, it’s just been me and her, and even if she annoys the living fuck out of me sometimes, she’s all I have, and if I want to carry her around, I will.”

“You have me now, too.”

You heard yourself say it.

You heard yourself say it aloud, after he said his daughter was all he had, and now you had to follow it up with a tongue-tied spew of clarifications.

“Just, you know, it’s not only you, Adrie, your uncle, Steve and Nancy, and her teacher. You have me now, too, as your friend.. I mean, we are friends, aren’t we?”

Warmth spread through your body. From your ribs, outward, where he jabbed his elbow into your side. Thrumming where his weight pressed into you, sending his hip into yours. Pleasure–blooming–from his silly grin to your romantic heart, to your platonic fingers snagging the fabric of his coveralls around his thigh to stop him from shoving your board away. Yearning. Sprung from the grease dirtying your skin being the same as the black streak above his eyebrow where he wiped his bangs off his forehead.

“Yeah.. Yeah, I think after this, you’re my friend,” he agreed, accidentally kicking over the takeout bag in his teasing. “No qualifier of reluctancy, or addendums, or prefaces. We’re friends.”

Yeah, definitely friends.

Friends who could calculate the exact degree of the arc of the other’s smile through memory alone, having stared at their lips for longer than friends ought.

————

And you played the part of companion quite well, you thought, when Eddie cursed as he came in from the garage with his hand cradled to his chest.

He ducked into the bathroom, and before the door closed, he was pushing it open on his way to the breakroom sink. “Shit. Don’t we have a first aid kit?” he asked.

“Oh! I left it in the women’s restroom after I got a paper cut.” You pushed yourself away from your desk, and found it in the cabinetry, bringing it to him as he scrubbed Dawn soap over his left hand, from upper wrist to fingertips. “Is it bad?” you asked cautiously. Blood was.. fine. But anything needing stitches was more than your red zipper pouch could help with.

“I’m okay,” he grunted, voice deep with the resonance of an inconvenience, more so than true pain. “Just one of those shitty surface cuts that doesn’t stop bleeding.”

The moment Eddie’s hands were dripping with diluted red water instead of blackened motor oil droplets, you tore a paper towel from the roll, cupped his palm, and folded it over his pinky and outermost knuckles. You bent over to keep his hand over the sink, and accepted the sharp jut of his elbow tucked into the softness of your waist.

The scrapes were shallow, as he said. You pressed your thumbs over the superficial wounds until the white paper dotted bright crimson–same color as his cheeks–and he remained silent. He didn’t deny your doting. Didn’t disrupt the gesture, nor break the spell.

It was a nice moment. Until you opened an alcohol wipe and swabbed it over the afflicted area. His mouth twitched at the stinging liquid cooling on his skin. As it dried, you made brief eye contact and shied away from his suspicious squint, like you had a secret to tell him sealed behind your lips all morning.

“What’s that look for?”

While pulling out two beige bandages for his knuckles, you answered in feigned indifference, “Oh, nothing. Just.. y’know.. Mr. Moore promoted me to Office Administrator, and maybe it came with a little raise, and who knows, an extra sick day or two.”

“Nice!” He angled his hand so it was easier for you to wrap the Band-aid around to the side of his palm where there was a wet, angry cut. He was trembling from the rush of adrenaline, endorphins, and relief he didn’t get more injured from his strained muscles giving out while wielding a power tool without protective gloves on.

“So now I have the confusing job of being both the person who cleans the toilets, and also organizes payroll.” You drew your eyebrows in. “Whatever organizing payroll means.”

Eddie watched you turn over the pouch to shake out the slots where the more grown up, adult bandages usually resided, and came up empty. Instead, a metal tin with Sesame Street characters clattered on the countertop. You popped it open.

“Hope you don’t mind,” you said.

Cookie Monster and Big Bird were gingerly wrapped around his pinky, protecting him from further harm.

Bright, cheery colors in contrast to the grime nestled into the crevices of his skin, and the dark blue coveralls he wore today. Your delicate touch. And his rough calluses. Your soft, chapstick-slick lips. And his cold-weathered mouth lifted at the corner. Your obedient body turning with his. And his face drawing near. Your tender, weak grip on his injured hand. And his sneaky fingers reaching past you.

He took three extra Band-aids and put them in the pocket below his embroidered name patch.

Eyelashes fluttering at the sensation of your forearm resting against his stomach, you chided him in the faintest exhale, “That’s stealing from the company, you know. I could write you up.”

Pleading with you amidst a persuasive smile, he begged, “If Adrie sees I have a cool Band-aid, and she doesn’t get one too, she’ll be upset.”

“That’s not fair.” Not like you cared if he took things from work, but if the Band-aids were for Adrie, you’d give him the entire tin, and he knew it. “You play a mean game, Eddie, using my greatest weakness against me.”

He took another Bert and Ernie, and slipped them in with the others, patting his pocket flat.

In a defeated sigh, you crumbled under the smug display of his proud chest, gaze trained on the cursive lettering composing his name, the motor oil blackening his cuticles, and the grease stain on his coveralls from the french fry he dropped earlier.

“Who’s the pushover now?”

“Considering you’re robbing me of Sesame Street Band-aids to bribe your daughter out of a tantrum?” You looked him up and down, from his half-closed eyes to the ketchup stain. “Still you.”

He hummed a warm reply, and twitched his other hand closed, curling his fingers over yours for a split second. A movement stunted by the bandages. Likewise, you drummed your fingertips on the heel of his palm, and let go.

“Wear your gloves next time, idiot.”

“Yes, dear.”

————

Taking on the role of Office Administrator meant one thing to the both of you: less time together.

The interactions were fleeting; sneaking a glance at each other when Eddie made an unnecessary trip to the breakroom to get his jacket for an equally unnecessary smoke break. But it meant he’d pass by Mr. Moore’s office twice while you were being taught how to fill out ledgers and spreadsheets. Two possibilities for you to become enamored with his hair flowing from underneath his bandana, and two chances for him to capture your interest with his charm–his larger than life presence stomping past the door with his chin held high and his hands in his back pockets, looking at you out the corner of his eye, and giving you that tight, knowing grin.

It was lonely working in the mornings, having a short lunch at your desk while scheduling business meetings with salesmen for Mr. Moore, and clocking out at 4PM to help take care of things at home while Robin was managing the night shift, and her dad was on bed rest.

You missed Eddie.

Eddie missed you.

————

It was a cold, bleak mid-December night after a dreary day of clouds and wind. The service bay doors were closed, except for one to allow the draft to carry out lingering exhaust fumes. Darkness smothered the world beyond the auto shop, interrupted intermittently by the odd car stopping at the streetlight. Turn signals blinked. Headlights peered into the warehouse, shining light on the single truck in the empty garage.

Blissful, tranquil winter. Crisp, throat-aching air. Bites of frost sinking into flesh. Numbed fingers. Frozen teeth nipping at the bone. Undisturbed. Quiet. No music.

“Man, it’s freezing in the lobby,” you complained loudly upon entering Eddie’s domain and crouching in front of the space heater next to the workbench.

The pair of legs sticking out from under the truck shifted.

Surprised by your sudden appearance, and grumpy about the loss of hot air directed at him, Eddie beat his wrench on the wheel axle to show his annoyance when you giggled and refused to move. In fact, you hunkered down, rubbing your palms together, hogging all the warmth while having the audacity to wear his tan work jacket.

He tapped the heel of his heavy work boot at you. “I thought you left for the day.”

“Did you really not notice me at my desk for the past hour?”

After waving the tool at the underside of the truck he’d been staring at for the better part of the evening, he then tucked his chin to make a snide remark, “Do you think I keep track of your whereabouts at all times?”

“Yes.”

No response except for a sour expression. Predictable. It was in his best interest to roll his head to the side, and pretend to be working by muttering mathematics to himself. You, however, stood up, and sidestepped the heater to read the buttons on the stereo radio, and dug for the cassette you slipped into the jacket’s pocket before coming out here.

Snap. Click. Whirr.

The black tape spun on the wheels, and from the speakers strung at the back corners of the garage, music began.

Eddie’s groan rose above the plucky piano keys. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re subjecting me to Christmas music.”

You shushed him, “It’s just jazz.”

Ella Fitzgerald’s warbling hum filled the concrete walls. Her stunning voice and evocative, blunt lyrics soothed your eyes closed. Face-burning words you weren’t ashamed of. You let them take you. Dipping and swaying your shoulders side to side as the piano lulled you into its drunken blitheness. Guiding you two steps to the left, the right. A lazy turn. Paused on the cusp of anticipation. You stopped. Blinked lovingly at the boots beneath you.

“May I have this dance?”

Metal clinked to the ground. Eddie gripped the edge of the car, and pulled himself out. Pushed himself into a sitting position on the creeper, focusing on your hand extended to him, and climbing his gaze upwards. To the smudges of pencil lead and blue pen ink on the inside of your fingers from where you gripped the writing utensils, to the coffee stain on the cuff of his jacket, the name patch, the roundness of your cheeks from your hopeful smile.

“My hands are dirty,” he said.

“I don’t care.” You urged in all gentleness, “Don’t turn me down because you’re shy. I’ll teach you.”

Teach me, he mouthed.

A delicious secret emerged.

Excitement, charismatic boisterousness, unhesitating–eager–sincere excessive vulnerability, bursting to be the shameless youth he used to be and oh so endearing–Eddie sprang into action at the upkick in tempo. The namesake of the song vibrated under his ribs–I’ve Got a Crush On You–and the garage blurred in your dizzy eyes.

Eddie, Eddie, eddie eddie eddie, eddieeddieeddie. Hawkins’ reject, the town’s outcast, Eddie, in all his awkward, standoffish exterior built to protect his sensitive heart, swept your right hand into his left. Raised them. Compelled you into a fast, tight spin under his arm, and at the rotation’s completion, you sank into each other’s embrace like a released breath.

You used the solid curve of his shoulder as leverage, and fit your other hand in the space between his thumb and index.

Eddie didn’t lead.

He demanded you follow.

His muscles were braced with ego as he ushered you backwards. Large advances towards you, forcing you away from the truck, and half-turns to the side with an appropriate pressure at your waist to follow him to the unoccupied center of the garage. But his modest hand grew longing in the distance as you struggled to keep up in the short chase. The thick jacket meant for durability kept him wanting more, and he used it to reel you in. Draw you near. Bodies untouching, but radiating heat in the hushed sigh of winter rolling in from the service door.

Not once had you managed to sound the question on your parted lips, but he understood it, and answered.

“You’re not the only theater kid,” he said softly. “It was the only elective I liked. Had to learn to dance for a few parts over the years, and if I may judge by your reaction, I’m not half-bad.”

You laughed, “Wh-Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

The smug grin he wore waned to something more humble in nature. “Mm-nn. I never wanted to interrupt your stories. It’s more interesting listening to you talk about how you played a witch in a slutty Off-Off-Broadway rendition of Macbeth where you managed to snap both your stilettos in the first Act, than it is for me to go on about how I played background character #4 in my second senior year of high school and mostly used the class as an excuse to make props and shit.”

“Eddie,” you whined. Once upon a time, during your first days working here, he told you to leave him alone for jabbering on about the theater works you and Robin were a part of, and now he reveals this? “I didn’t even think you were listening when I told you those stories. And again! Why–didn’t–you–tell me?” Your words were minced from you shaking his shoulder.

“I didn’t think it’d be relevant,” he explained, speaking in that shy mumble of his.

“We could’ve been dancing this whole time.”

Eddie hung his head back, and bounced his brows upward. “Mmm. You make it sound like you’ve been wanting to do this since we met.” His hum, his words sent his Adam’s apple crawling up the deep shadows his jaw cast on his throat. Vibrating from within his alluring chest, and coming from the plump lips which appeared less blemished since the last time you were blessed with studying them up close.

The tube of Carmex you found in his pocket was doing wonders.

Basking in the overhead lights as flowers did in the sun, he listened to the end of the song fade. He willed his eyes half-open as it switched, dropped his face to lock onto your gaze, and obeyed the slower rhythm. Languid lurches into your compliant hips to the smooth saxophone. Step, step– With a pivot, guiding you around the floor in an unpredictable routine. One which kept you guessing. Had the rolled cuff of his pants brushing against your ankle, and his body coaxing you into a quick reverse turn at the piping trumpets on the following track. Broached the intimacy of his scent in your nose. Of course he didn’t smell great after a long day of working, but.. By your racing heart rushing blood in your ears, you had to admit, you didn’t find it as gross as you should, either.

Breaking you from your trance of staring at the frizzy baby curls sticking to the dried sweat on his neck, he suggested, “Dip?”

Your surprised shriek bubbled into a scathing yelp of Mother Fu–.

Impatient, ineloquent, and forgetful of manners. It was by the grace of your muscle memory you grappled for his upper body before your eyes could adjust to the upside down car cruising by the shop, puttering to a stop at the intersection. The arch he put in your back was wicked. Sinful, even. Supported by his strong arms.

Merciful, he righted your world. And in reconciliation, he observed you with the same obsessive interest he showed when he made you laugh. Watching for your reaction, and when it was adoring, he relaxed the apology from his features.

He hooked a finger around the lock of hair stuck at the corner of his mouth, and pulled it free; clasped your hand again–the other was slipped under the back of the jacket, and he settled his forearm around your waist, hot palm on your spine.

You took the cue. You climbed the scope of his shoulder to wager your dignity on the tight muscle at the crook of his neck. When he didn’t object, and his easy grin remained, you ventured under his unruly mane and found the back of his neck. You slipped your thumb into his collar, and rested it along the naked skin of his nape.

He shivered.

A car passed by.

The gossipers of Hawkins watched a mechanic and his boss’ receptionist-turned-Office-Administrator stare into each other’s eyes, and sway.

The distance between you two was unassuming, except for the tastes of more when the music encouraged, twirling yourself under his lifted arm as two separate beings, and rejoining as a pair, rocking back and forth, side to side, smiling from the exploration into something new.

The drum beats ebbed to a drowsy cadence.

Minutes passed. The embrace became familiar. Your held hands were sticky with shared dust and nervous sweat. His exhale mingled with your inhale. The steady sway was a polite shuffle in either direction, any direction. It didn’t matter. The embrace was the point.

“As Office Administrator,” you started, “I wanted to throw a party next week, the day before our holiday off. It’d be right after work, if you wanted to hang out, eat, and maybe bring Adrie?”

Before he could answer, you lowered your voice to an all-too-candid beg, “Please? I promise it won’t be boring. Mr. Moore said no one’s thrown a work party before, and I’m terrified no one but Kevin and his three dogs will show up.” You put a compassionate squeeze on the back of his neck. “Please don’t let it just be me, Kevin, and his three dogs.”

The bottom of Eddie’s two front teeth showed as he spoke on the verge of a grin, “I thought he only had two.”

You whispered dramatically, “It’s three now.”

He pretended to think over the offer, shifting from foot to foot.

“Eddie.”

As if he could keep up the act when you craved his name like that. “I’ll go,” he placated you, but not before inclining his head, viewing you through his messy bangs and long lashes. “And of course I’ll bring Adrie.”

You celebrated by punching up your linked hands–yours smelling of pencil shavings, and his of burnt brake pads. Eddie used it to maneuver you into another turn. Smooth, suave. A true gentleman.

“Would you help me decorate too?” you dared ask. His answer was an apathetic grumble. “And maybe bring any non-denominational wintry decorations you have because all I could find in town were very red and green, and very Christmas-leaning.”

“You’re not sweetening the deal.”

“But it’s a ‘yes,’ isn’t it?”

Another dissuasive grumble.

Whimsy, breathless lyrics about fresh love trilled from the speakers. The cassette was on its last song before needing to be flipped.

“Do you really listen to jazz?” he asked, skirting into the territory of curiosity as his frame rocked you to the left.

“I listen to a little bit of everything,” you answered honestly, engaging in a fluid stride to the right. “Are you asking because of the music you listen to?” At once, your expression went wry, and his widened to barely constrained intrigue, like you were two steps ahead of him, reading his private thoughts. “The kinda stuff you blast when you think I’m not around.”

“You’ve heard that?”

Not helping the pink hue stemming from the hot base of his neck beneath your palm, you were quick to tease him, “Well, I’m not exactly competing in the Tour de France, y’know. You don’t wait for me to ride away before starting up your little concerts in here when you tell me to leave early. Bet you play air-guitar ‘nd everything when I’m gone, like a dork.”

Visibly curbing his habit to lick his lips, not desiring the swipe of dust it’d come with, Eddie narrowed his eyes, and cocked his head back to regard you down the slope of his nose. “Yeah? And what do you think of the music I listen to?”

“Unsurprising. Suits your image.” Engaging in a bit of intentionality, you worked your hand from his nape and introduced your fingertips to his other shoulder, wrapping your arm tighter around him, and you were enveloped by his warmth doing the same. The waistband of his coveralls rubbed against the metal zipper of his bulky jacket you wore as you moved in unison. “I recognize the big stuff. Metallica, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest..” You shrugged. “Accept?”

The tip of Eddie’s nose came into focus, then his big eyes searching yours as he turned his face side to side, examining you up close. “I wasn’t even playing Balls to the Wall. No one just casually names Accept like that. You like them!”

“Okay, okay, slow down, don’t get too excited,” you calmed him before he strained a tendon in the very finger he pointed at you. “I’ve couch surfed with a lot of weirdos, and lived with six roommates at one point. I’ve listened to my fair share of music through thin walls whether I liked it or not.. But yeah, I like metal enough, I guess.”

Though he unlinked your waltzing hands in his rush to assert himself in your personal space, his arm around your waist persisted–and if he were wary of crossing boundaries, he showed no heed when he employed his strength to press your chests together through the layers of clothes in a sense of spontaneity.

Your view was eclipsed by the thrill in his boyish grin, and then, his hair was slipping from your curious fingers.

“Wait here–!”

And he was gone. His body heat bounded away and out the back door. You were stunned with your hands still posed as if he were there.

You dropped your arms to your sides, and clutched the rugged canvas jacket around you, waiting, listening to the gravel crunch and a car door slam, peering out into the dark to see what became so important he left his dancing partner in the middle of the warehouse in utter confusion.

“Got it,” he said in his stride to the stereo.

“Got what?” It was rude enough to abandon you, and now he was ignoring you in his frenzy. You followed him to the workbench, and turned to the side to rest your hip on it. The heater thawed your shins while Eddie pried open a cassette, but you couldn’t read the front from how he held it in his palms.

Snap. Click. Whirr.

He leaned his ass on the table top and folded his arms over his chest, instilling a narrow distance between you two. His gaze was on the floor. Eyes falling closed. For once, he did not want to see your reaction.

The speakers crackled with static.

You startled.

It was a hard left turn from the somber jazz from before.

Drumsticks crashed on cymbals, setting the aggressive pace for a piercing guitar to enter on a screeching note, quickly devolving into thrashy chords sure to make the fingers sore, along with a bass and rhythm guitar that were getting lost in your pounding head.

Though he wasn’t watching, you schooled the surprise from your features, and relaxed your shoulders. The music wasn’t offensive in the least, but it was loud.

After the initial assault, and a quick bass solo, you were nodding along, enjoying the overwhelming beat pulsing in your throat making it difficult to breathe.

The shredding guitar wept to a softer bridge, and the vocals began.

The vocals began.

The vocals..

The lyrics were spoken–sung–with the last word being dragged into a melodic ballad as the instruments went silent. A rich note held by a man whose voice was neither deep, nor falsetto. Perfectly in the middle. Perfectly fitting your preference. Perfectly matching the one you heard most days, and thought about at night, when your bed was lonely and your body was flushed with heat.

Perfectly matching..

You snapped your attention to Eddie’s face. His eyelids twitched with movement. Individual curls of his hair swung in time to his head dipping to the tempo. His cheek jumped at the start of the next verse, and he dug his fingernails into his sleeve until they turned white.

“This is you,” you expelled in pure infatuation. “Eddie!” You clasped his bicep, and leaned in to him, excelling at matching his enthusiasm from earlier, and surpassing it. “Eddie, this is you!” He opened his eyes and slouched away from your efforts in a laugh, angling his face into his hair to hide his shy grin.

You ran your hand along his forearm and tugged, wheedling him out of the tight hug he had himself locked in, urging him to open up. “This is you singing, isn’t it? This is your band.” The cassette case was behind him. Corroded Coffin. Same name as what was on his sweatshirt on Halloween. 

The second button on his coveralls snapped open, below the one he always kept unfastened. You didn’t know at what point you were bold enough to put your hand on his chest, nor gather the fabric into your fist while shaking some sense into him, but you did. You really did expose the tight white shirt clinging to his sticky skin. All for the sake of validating Eddie.

When he continued acting far too humble–shrinking into himself, and mumbling how it wasn’t that cool–you wasted no time embarrassing yourself by jumping on your tiptoes, telling him just how cool it was, you promised.

Reaching behind him, he slapped the volume knob down so you both could stop shouting.

“I appreciate the groupie attitude, but it’s not like we’re a big deal, or anything,” he said, awkwardly folding one of his arms on top of the workbench as he surrendered and turned to you. His other hand hesitated near the bottom of the jacket. “About once a month we get a gig in Indy. Doesn’t pay much, but it covers the cost of the trip, and we get a decent crowd, I guess. Uhm, the venue sells out.. sometimes. People know some of the lyrics. We sell a couple of shirts..” he trailed off upon making eye contact. “We only get to practice on the days I leave work early. Maybe on the weekend.. so.”

Overflowing with sincerity, you trusted your hands to behave themselves on his forearm, laying your decent fingers over the tensed muscle above his wrist where he wore his watch.

He canted his head, and gave you a cynical look. “It’s not like we’re famous or anything.”

“I think it’s so cool you’re in a band,” you stressed. “How come you never told me?”

Shrugging, he glanced elsewhere. “Being you, and being from New York, you probably know hundreds of bands who’ve made it big. I’m sure you’ve met way more impressive people.”

Is that what this was about? Not sharing his theatrical past, and now his band because he was insecure about not impressing you, of all things? Using a resentful tone when speaking about his life versus yours, as if the comparisons mattered when it took all of your willpower to not stare at his lips in this proximity.

“Who cares who I’ve met. You sound amazing. The music, your voice. Everything. It’s uniquely yours, and I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.”

Eddie sighed.

Cozying into the position, he leaned his weight on the arm you cupped your palms over, and there was a pull at the hem of the jacket. You shifted closer. He looped his finger into the pocket and rubbed his thumb along the edge of it, seeking an absent-minded distraction as he explained, “I also didn’t want to, ah–I don’t know.. Scare you off. Like, if you didn’t like it, or thought heavy metal was Satanic, or some shit.”

“Scare me off?” At least, you intended to repeat it back to him as a question, but your laugh interrupted you. “Oh, Eddie. Light of my day, my neverending fountain of mirth, a true joy to be around,” you gushed at his exaggerated sneer. “If you didn’t scare me off the first week of meeting you, where you made it a point to glare at me for the mere act of speaking in your direction, I don’t think your very obvious music taste would.”

He looked at his boots for a moment to reflect on his behavior, but forwent an apology, and instead asked, “So, you don’t think it’s lame for me to be pushing 30-years-old, and still playing in a garage band?” There was a truncated tension at the end of his question, like he wanted to add more self-deprecation to it, but stopped himself. Good thing, too, because you were about to voice your adulations until you were rendered to a puddle of embarrassment.

Sparing no sarcasm, you furrowed your brows and screwed your mouth into a snarky grin as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, girls find it totally lame when hot guys with long hair drive fast cars and play loud music and are in a band. It’s totally the most unattractive thing, especially when they have tattoos and are good singers. Definitely isn’t a turn-on at all.”

Too far, too much, too inappropriate–

The last sentence was over the line, and you could see it in his surprised eyebrows wrinkling his forehead, and his wide pupils boring into yours, and his cheeks reddening as your words sank in.

The garage went viscerally quiet.

He stopped fidgeting with the jacket pocket.

Mistake, mistake, mistake.

“Not just the vocalist,” he said, voice cracking on the whisper. “I play lead guitar, too.”

You spat out, “Very cool,” desperate for the relief of his face cracking into a flattered grin.

But no, Eddie didn’t grant you such comfort. However, he did spare you the chance to scratch at the anxious sweat dripping down your back when he rearranged how he was standing, and spun around to the stereo. “It’s pretty late, huh? We should probably get going.” He pressed his hips to the workbench as he organized the tapes into their cases. Then, he paused.

The case yours went to was blank. Nothing written on the dotted lines on the back, nor on the front of the tape.

“I need my jacket back,” he reminded you.

“R-Right.”

You shimmied it off, and handed it to him. He draped it over his arm, and clutched the bulk to his stomach, covering his front as he turned to face you again. “Here.” Holding out the black and white cassette with a stylized logo he drew himself, he gave you his personal copy of Corroded Coffin’s first recording session. “You take mine. I’ll take yours.”

“Are you sure?”

Staring at the mixtape compiled of the cheesy love songs you made over the course of a few nights, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” And as he dragged his feet backwards–avoiding the space heater without looking–he said on his way to the tray where he kept his rings, “We should do this again. The whole.. dancing thing.” He gestured with the tape. “I’ll pick the music next time, too.”

With his back to you, he cleaned up his station, and let you know you could go. “I’ll lock up behind you.”

“You never answered if you were helping me hang decorations,” you found your voice. It was hiding behind a hammering heart, and shallow-filled lungs.

Outside, a car honked at a truck to take their turn at a green light.

The metal teeth on his jacket ground together as Eddie zipped it up. He sank his heavy hands into the pockets to weigh them down, and crossed his work boots at the ankle to about-face in a sort of pirouette, pinning you with his lopsided grin and mellow demeanor. “You know, I thought with all the life lessons I’ve had to learn over the past five years, I’d be able to resist a pretty girl asking me to do things for her.” He snorted and flicked his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head. “But when they’re as beautiful as you, I just can’t.”

His gaze came crashing down onto you, and your tongue froze at the tip of your teeth.

“Alright, Casanova,” you let out in a shaky breath. “I’ll take that as you agreeing, and will see you bright and early, and without any complaints.” You left as fast as you could.

No, really. The Tour de France better have a spot open for you, with how fast you pedaled home to sit on your bed, cross legged, happily ruining your hearing from having the volume scrolled to the max on your Walkman, listening to Eddie’s voice, wondering at what point the endorphins would wear off and you were stuck agonizing over how blatant you were about calling your coworker hot. And how he called you beautiful in return.

————

Talking amongst the sputtering coffee machine beginning its brew:

“The fourth one–uh–Solivagant, is definitely my favorite!”

“That one’s instrumental,” Eddie pouted. “And here I was under the impression you liked my lyrics.. Mm, a little lower on your side.”

You put blu-tack on your end of the banner, and pressed it into the wall. “I do! But that one really got stuck in my head. The way all the guitars came together to play the harmony was just–Eddie! You did that on purpose.”

Stepping around to the other side of the lunch table, you threw your head back in a groan at the glittery Happy Holidays sign you wrongly assumed he would help you hang without turning it into a way to tease you.

“You’re the worst,” you grumbled on your way to fix the banner so it was even, and his side wasn’t higher by a few inches.

“Sorry,” he said weakly between his snickering. “Let me.”

There was no letting him do what he wanted. He was going to push his way into your space, regardless. Literally, shoving a chair out of his way with his hip, and standing behind you to peel the sticky tacky off the wall, and raising it from your face’s height, to slightly above your head, needlessly, infuriatingly, unhelpfully helping you. Barging in with his hand on your shoulder, and his body at your back. Closer, more intimate than the time at the grocery store.

His inhale swelled his solid chest against your shoulder blades, and his hum rumbled down your spine. “Am I supposed to dress up nice for your party?”

You twisted your head back to admire the underside of his freshly shaven jaw smelling of astringent spice. “Only if you feel like it,” you guessed. “The dress I’m wearing is pretty casual, but you don’t have to do anything special if you don’t want to.” After circling his thumb over the tacky corner of the sign, he dropped his arms, grazing them over yours, if only in passing. “I think the other guys are wearing button down shirts.”

His gaze drifted as he visualized his closet.

You stared. “Do you really not have one nice shirt?”

“I might still have the one from my job interview,” he said, tucking his chin to look at you, creating a silly amount of wrinkles along his burgeoning grin.

The front door chimed. Either Carl, Kevin, or your boss just walked in, and it was then Eddie realized the position he had you in. It struck him when his peppermint-candy-and-cigarettes breath caressed your fluttering lashes, and he could discern the bubblegum flavored chapstick on your lips, just like you could observe the balm on his.

If someone saw him trapping you alone in the breakroom against the wall with your backside pressed to him, there would be no delicate conversation about consensual workplace relationships. He’d be gone.

“Sorry!”

Eddie made his swift retreat–three, no, four steps away.

You widened your eyes at him, at his obviousness, and tried to communicate through your facial expression you knew what he was thinking, and everything was okay. You two were a bit too comfortable around each other, that’s all. It wasn’t something serious he needed to explain away. No one caught him. It was innocent, like slow dancing when no one was around. Innocent. Teasing.

“I, uhm– Y-Yeah, the shirt.” He forced his fingers to unclench into limp fists at his side. Face pale, yet hot. “It’s–I’ll wear it.”

Wringing your hand around the fridge door handle, you bent towards him, and raised your eyebrows higher, imploring him to chill. “Eddie, you can come in a t-shirt and jeans. It doesn’t matter. Adrie can wear whatever she wants, too. It’s just a casual thing.”

Totally casual. Like the body heat fading from the back of your green knit sweater where his chest became acquainted with the acrylic. Dissipating on his skin beneath his coveralls where the crown of your head met his shoulder. Very casual.

“Uhm–”

“So..”

You both started, and ended.

“Mornin’!” Mr. Moore’s gruff greeting came from the hallway.

Treating it as a warning, you each responded with an acknowledgement of your boss’ appearance as he walked into the room. “Good morning!” and “Salutations!” To which you shut your eyes in exasperation at Eddie’s unusual welcome, begging him to act normal while Mr. Moore poured sugar in his coffee.

After stirring in complete silence, he took turns smiling at you both, and meandered to his office, closing the door behind him.

Eddie shifted topics to the table where piles of garland remained coiled.

“Should we–?”

“Wanna just, uh, forget decorating for today, ‘nd do it tomorrow?” you spoke over him.

“Yeah,” he answered, nodding too enthusiastically. He tossed his hair out of his face, revealing the red tips of his ears for a split-second, and said, “Tomorrow, yeah. We can do the rest of this shit tomorrow.”

A very graceful conversation between two people who just had a very ordinary interaction without any explicit implications.

“We’re still having lunch together later, right?” you asked.

“Duh. You’ve gotta finish giving me your thoughts on the rest of our EP. The chorus for Taladasian Empire has some meta references to the other songs, I don’t know if you caught onto that, but the second verse mentions..”

Oh, he was adorable when he hyperfixated. Not only did it steer the conversation away from the previous blood-scorching incident, but it was rather nice to have a reason to stare at his lips move a mile a minute as he conjured an unprompted dissertation about his music’s lore, even as you were sitting at your desk, pointing at your ringing phone, and suggesting he should also get to work.

There were only two days left before the long holiday, and customers needed their cars before the shop was closed for the break.

————

Kevin sipped his coffee in the early morning sunlight filtering through the garage.

You garnered Eddie’s help whenever he was available, and the current task was dressing up your receptionist desk to look like a big present, complete with a gold bow flowing over the ledge where the candy bowl sat. Eddie crouched at one end holding a roll of wrapping paper while you unfurled it to the other, and measured it to the side facing the lobby.

Kevin watched the interaction through a unique lens, noting how Eddie bounced on his heels, appearing both bored and anxious to get back to work, but when he glanced over at you–at your face pinched in concentration as you fought with the tape dispenser with one hand–it was as if his worries melted away.

The boy calmed down.

Though Kevin didn’t come in often, the effect you had on the misfit was overt in the sweetest way. It reminded him of his first and last love, who had since passed.

~~~

Carl sipped his coffee as he stood in the doorway to the breakroom.

The lobby was taken over by a cheerful wonderment.

Eddie was hanging white and blue streamers from the drop ceiling tiles, while you decorated the windows with silver snowflakes. At first, Carl thought Eddie was pinning them up around the perimeter of the room because he lacked direction, but then he saw why he insisted on following you around, setting up the step ladder directly behind you.

Without discussing it, you reached out for Eddie’s arm as you stepped onto the cushiony lobby chair customers sat in when waiting for their cars, and he was at the ready. He lent his balance to you, crooking his elbow for you to slot your fingers into, and once steady, you let go.

The conversation picked up where it was left off, and the decorating continued.

Now that the glass door was unblocked, Kevin shuffled inside with his cold mug to get a refill, and stopped next to Carl on his way to the coffee machine.

“You sure those two ain’t datin’?” he asked.

Carl shrugged with his mug on the way to his mouth. “Apparently not. Ed said they’re just friends.”

At a sound in the lobby, they craned their heads to the furthest wall to witness Eddie beaming down at you. His smile was a rarity, and watching the enormous emotion take over him when you touched his arm and laughed at his joke; it was a sight worthy of remembering.

Kevin scratched at the side of his head, then straightened out the bill to his baseball cap over his wispy white hair, and squinted at the mischievous glint in Carl’s eyes.

“But David did say he walked in on them looking mighty flustered yesterday.”

“Did he, now?”

Swallowing the hot coffee with a wet smack of his lips, he emphasized a drawn out, “Yep.”

Kevin suggested, “Maybe the holiday spirit will take over, and they’ll confess their feelings under some mistletoe.”

“Uck,” he replied with a disgusted noise. “You’re always such a romantic.”

“You’re the one starin’ at them,” Kevin countered on his way to the coffee pot, shuffling from the arthritis in his knees, and focusing his energy into keeping his trembling hand still as he poured his drink. “Besides, I think his little girl would appreciate having someone like her in their lives.”

————

Four hours before the party, the auto shop was swept into a flurry of activity.

Carl and Kevin each had vehicles to work on; driving a truck out to the parking lot for a customer to pick up after you called them, and driving a car in. Working in tandem to the jolly Christmas music on the radio. Crowding the garage with discarded packaging from parts that would be gathered to be burned later.

“Guh–” You hung up the phone, and pressed a button to erase what you previously recorded after you stuttered over part of your script.

This outgoing message thing wasn’t going well.

Sighing, you picked it up and pressed the record button again. “You’ve reached David’s Auto Shop at..” you enunciated the number and address in an even tone. “We’re currently closed for the Holidays, and will open at 8AM, Mon–”

The smell of cigarettes should’ve been your first warning. The hand tipping your office chair back should’ve been the second. The general Eddie-ism of it all should’ve been the third.

Eddie blew a raspberry directly into the receiver.

“You! Why! That one was perfect. God, you are so–freaking–annoying. I swear. Obnoxious little..” Fuming, you hung up, and glared at him.

He cackled on his way to the garage. “Hey, since you’re not busy, can you help me roll this stack of tires to the Buick over there?” Before you could share the choice words you had prepared for him–before you could process the droplets of spit drying on your cheek–before the door could hit him on the way out–he spun and caught it and ducked his head back in. “Oh! Don’t forget your policy. Can’t say no to helping me, huh?” On his smooth exit, he winked and made a clicking sound with his mouth, flashing a gratuitous amount of teeth on the smirk.

“You are the absolute worst.” You grabbed your hoodie and followed him, pointedly not thanking him for holding the door open for you. “And you know what? I seriously regret ever telling you about my dumbass policy.”

“Really? I’ve only just begun to actualize the potential for making you do things for me. I’m loving it!”

~~~

Three hours before the party, you put the finishing touches on the breakroom before Robin arrived with the food you ordered from the bakery and deli at the grocery store. Some was excess that would’ve gone to waste; extra cupcakes, and cookies. Other things were ordered, like finger sandwiches, veggie trays, and an arrangement of cheese cubes with those cute toothpicks that have red and green cellophane at the top. You also gave her money for the makings of smores, bags of pretzels, and crackers, themed plates and cups to match. The works.

You cleaned the countertop free of appliances, putting them away in the cupboards to make space and give outlets to the crockpots Mr. Moore’s wife was bringing later.

Otherwise, you shoved a tall stool borrowed from the garage in the corner of the room, and placed the small TV from Mr. Moore’s office on it, intending to play Holiday programs while people funneled in and out.

~~~

Two hours before the party, the sun was setting on the horizon. Eddie moved his car to the end of the alleyway, and Carl rolled out a barrel to be stuffed with leftover cardboard boxes, and firewood he brought from home.

He and Eddie moved the workbench to the service door, and set up the bigger TV so people could watch the football game while standing around the fire.

~~~

One hour before the party, the garage was cleared of anything that a child could hurt themselves on or with, and the shop was hushed in wait. Eddie left first to get Adrie from school, and go home to change. The other guys did the same, leaving to collect what family they were bringing, while you stayed behind to stress over having enough food to feed everyone, even after Robin dropped off more snacks than you remembered listing, along with your party clothes.

————

The evening began trepidatious.

Guests filled the lobby like a sea of warmly-dressed sardines. Scarves, mittens, jackets brushed necks, hands, shoulders. Those recognizing each other hugged, while three rambunctious dogs wove through their legs. You introduced yourself to Mr. Moore’s daughter, Misty, and waved at her newborn. Carl’s teenage sons took the opportunity of their mom being busy to throw pebbles at each other outside. Mr. Moore’s wife and her brother and his eldest son were either setting up food or starting the fire. There was a moody girl of unknown origin moping in the corner. You lost track. It was hard to concentrate in the excitement.

You tugged your sleeves into your palms, and looked around the room for what must’ve been the hundredth time..

Eddie was late, and it was difficult keeping the concern off your face.

“Don’t look so worried,” Kevin said, landing a hand on your back as he shuffled by, carrying the scent of lighter fluid and smoke. “Your date’s still in his car. Probably workin’ up the nerve to come see you.”

“He’s not my date,” you corrected with a comically repulsed frown, hoping he’d buy it. “We’re friends.”

A twinkle danced in his stark blue eyes, and his open-mouthed smile peeked from beneath his thick mustache. “Look out.”

Look out?

A pair of tiny arms hugged you around your ass, and if it wasn’t for the tell-tale giggle, your stomach would be flipping with a much different emotion.

“Adrie!” You twisted and subtly scooped her arms higher on your hips before cupping the back of her head, and hugging her to your leg in the warmest greeting you could muster while your brain went to mush.

“You made it,” you said, staring, staring, staring.

Eddie pressed his lips together as he looked from his daughter to you. Happiness etched itself in every facet of his expression; in the tight smile he failed to control, to the tenderness of his half-closed eyes shining behind his lashes, his confident stance with his hands slotted into his work jacket pockets, in his washed hair falling to one side as he let his head loll from the heavy thoughts swaying his shoulders in a slow rocking motion. Everything about him was relaxed upon seeing you.

“You look beautiful,” he complimented with a magnificent amount of ease, as if he wasn’t a bundle of anxiety minutes ago. Yet, he didn’t withhold his praise. In gradual seconds–each longer than the last–he beheld your appearance in the highest regard, noting the vast departure from the jeans you usually wore.

The burgundy pinafore dress fit you snug, and the hem stopped high on your thighs. The thin white turtleneck underneath clung to your figure, and your black pantyhose matched your chunky Mary Janes.

It was one beret and a baguette short from being an outfit you wore for a skit with your comedy troupe, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Really beautiful,” he said to himself, taking you in, his whisper lost amongst the beginning strums of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree playing from the garage.

Adrie grabbed at the dress around your waist, chaining herself to you in a needy act for attention, and you stroked your thumb over her hair in return, eyes refusing to leave her father.

“And what about you, handsome?” You signaled it was his turn to show off.

So far, the formfitting gray slacks with a faint plaid pattern were doing him justice, but you wanted to see the whole thing.

Peacocking, Eddie lifted an arrogant brow on the same side of his smirk, and put some confidence in how he unzipped his jacket, savoring the anticipation. Opening it slowly to unveil, unfathomably, a button up shirt. White with blue stripes. Untucked, of course. Dropping the jacket from his shoulders, he strutted in a circle, giving you the full view of his back–no rugged coveralls, no leather, no durable canvas, no sweatshirt–just thin polycotton blend stretched over his frame alluding to his musculature.

Working the jacket back up his arms, he presented one of his legs forward. “Think I gained some weight since I last wore these. They used to fit better.”

Oh. Oh, no. They fit perfectly.

While he was busy looking at where the slacks tapered to his black boots, you were commending other areas. Like his thighs, where the pants gave a slim shadow where his boxers ended. And a little higher, to the place the fabric bunched around, and forced the zipper to curve outward. The real deal. The whole package. The big show.

Jesus..

“You look good,” you croaked out with the last of the air in your lungs. He jerked his head up, and smiled his usual way–too wide, a little askew, showing more teeth on one side than the other. “Should’ve known you’d be just as handsome dressed up as you are in a t-shirt and jeans.”

“You hear that, Adrie? It was worth it being late, because I look extra handsome.”

“I didn’t say extra–”

“Who cares,” she whined at him. After demonstrating an ounce of patience while her dad took a shower, washed his hair, shaved, spritzed on too much cologne, and stood in front of the mirror debating over wearing his nicer clothes or his usual ripped jeans for an excruciating number of minutes, she was at her limits. “My outfit is way, way, way cuter,” she argued in her kid-like way, fighting for your approval.

You crouched to her level, and she twirled in a circle, copying him. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Your sweatshirt is way, way, way cuter than his boring clothes. What does it say?” Somewhere above you, you heard Eddie suck his teeth.

Adrie pinched the red pullover and held it out for you to read along with her.

“Santa’s.. Widdle helper.” The pronunciation wasn’t her fault. Upon closer inspection, the text did indeed spell ‘little’ as ‘wittl’.’

“And who’s that?” you asked, pointing at the character jumping out of a Christmas stocking on the front.

“Tweety Bird!”

“Alright!” You held your hand up, and she high-fived you.

Thrown back into reality at a dog’s yip, and Mr. Moore’s survey of heads, you let go of the romanticized bubble you surrounded yourself in, where it was just you, Adrie, and Eddie, and took heed of the packed room lurching towards the smell of cooked meatballs wafting in the air.

“Everyone here?” Mr. Moore asked, and when a murmur arose, he rubbed his hands together, and announced, “Let’s eat! Game starts soon.”

The sardine conglomerate moved as one, making a concentrated effort to form a line from the breakroom, down the hallway, and ending where you stood at the glass door. Adrie struggled to accept being last in line, but you prepared many distractions for her; the first of which being Eddie’s present.

“I got something for you,” you said, and reached over the ledge of your desk, patting around in search of the special item. He expressed an unreasonable amount of suspicion. “You have to promise to wear it. Or else..” You gave Adrie a look, and she had a pout at the ready if he didn’t comply.

“I don’t like it when you two gang up on me,” he mumbled, eyeing you.

“Too bad. Here.”

Eddie snorted at the red, white, fuzzy, jingly accessory in your hand. “Really?” he asked, and laughed, “Would’ve worn it anyway.”

After a pause where he held the Santa hat in strange contemplation, he humbly knelt on his knees to Adrie, and asked her to do the honors, “Wanna put it on for me?” She did so enthusiastically, jamming the hat on his head, rattling the bell at the end of the cap, and calling him Daddy Santa while roughly combing his hair. He was sure to hold your gaze as he prompted Adrie, “Not real Santa, right?”

“No, you’re Daddy Santa. Real Santa is coming in two days! And he’s bringing me lots of presents because I’ve been good.”

You understood, then, the glaze of fatigue in the look he gave you. It’d be a few more years until Adrie thanked him for the miracles in her life, the food in her belly, the roof over her head, and as a father, he only hoped he’d fix his situation before she learned the full details of his sacrifices to raise her, to give her a room, to provide her with a bed of her own while he went without.

Still, he was in the constant battle of yearning for the acknowledgement, while fearing her growing up and discovering the real world.

A complex set of emotions to parse for both him and his daughter, and he had to do it alone.

“Ow, Adrie..”

Coming to his rescue when she began pinching his cheeks to a rosy state, you got her attention, “Don’t think I forgot about you, cutie pie.” From behind the ledge, you pulled out a pair of reindeer antlers on a headband, and slid them on for her, doubling as a way to keep her bangs out of her eyes.

Glee burst across her face in a smile which rivaled the dawning rays of the rising sun. Deep-seated satisfaction erupted in your chest at her joy over the small gesture. Her immediate desire was to be picked up by you, ready to be doted on, and in that moment, you wanted nothing other than to gather her in your arms. But Eddie stole her for himself. You were left Adrie-less. And the fact it bothered you, and the fact making his daughter happy affected you in a way you’d only begun to unpack last week when you asked Robin to drive you to the toy store at the mall, was complicated.

“You can’t coerce Miss Mouse into picking you up at your command,” he told her in a playful tone. “You’re a big girl now, and only Daddy’s strong enough to hold you.”

“Oh, puh-lease.” As if your tongue wasn’t already stuck out in disgust, it certainly was when he made a show of flexing his biceps. Under his jacket. Like that would prove anything.

Now, if he were wearing less..

You latched onto the change of subject in your mind, and moved on with the night, away from the poignant feelings of longing for something you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

For now, you made a sardine family. You, Adrie, and Eddie. Your hand in hers, she on his hip, and his kiss to her forehead, fond of one another. Huddled in shared conversation–the type where everything faded away. No one else. Just you, Adrie, and Eddie.

You volunteered to make their dinner. With Adrie clinging to his side, she was able to boss you into putting whatever she wanted on her plate, and you checked Eddie’s amused face every time she added another carrot or ham pinwheel, knowing he’d be the one to eat it when she was full. After hers, you made his, and after his, you made yours. Balancing them all on your palms and forearm, and bringing them to your desk, assuring Eddie he could have the office chair while you took the black stool.

Poor him, though. He sat with Adrie in his lap, desperate to maneuver around her antlers to get a mini cupcake in his mouth while you freely ate your sandwiches, and answered her questions about if reindeer were real, and if they could fly. (Yes, and yes.)

Other guests were present in the lobby, you knew, but at the impact of your knee prodding Eddie’s thigh, and his sly grin over Adrie’s head, they faded away once more.

Until a flash startled you both from your ga-ga gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Just saving memories!” Kevin exclaimed, scrolling his thumb over the disposable camera’s film cog.

And before you could blink away the spot invading your vision, he was gone. “Hope we looked good, at least,” you said to Eddie, not having a candid picture taken since you moved to Hawkins.

He snorted, and leaned around Adrie to see the meatball he was quartering for her with a plastic fork. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, sweetheart.”

Your heart fluttered at the endearment. He said it in a casual manner, not like when he was trying to fluster you. And the compliment was sincere, not teasing. It was sweet, with his arm around his daughter to keep her from squirming away, and the warm comfort of his leg against yours, body heat transferring from his slacks through your thin pantyhose.

A moment you’d like to remember. Including..

“Here,” you giggled.

He looked at the napkin you held out to him, and where you tapped at the corner of your mouth. “Oh.”

In true Eddie fashion, he used his tongue to edge at the green icing, following it with his thumb to get whatever he missed and sucking the rest from his fingers while still managing to entertain Adrie with questions about what she did in preschool today, and dipping a carrot in ranch, dropping some of it too onto his pinky and licking that off without hesitation too. A chaotic mess of a man.

~~~

As predicted, it didn’t take long for Adrie to get bored, and she wandered off to play with Kevin’s dogs. Eddie took it upon himself to finish the monumental task of eating the assortment of leftovers she surrendered on her plate. A real hero of the times, scarfing down the butter ring cookies she wore on her fingers, and downing the sip of juice she didn’t want.

The conversation between you two was the easy kind. Simple, flowing. He slouched to the side with his elbow on the desk, cheek to his fist, legs spread,  listening to you talk about nothing.

“And as you can see” –You pulled open the second drawer to the short filing cabinet under your desk– “I’m all organized for the new year. Got my Post-it notes, a new set of highlighters, some of those fancy pens that make my handwriting look nicer. Living a life of luxury over here.”

“Very cool,” he replied in a hollow tone, implying it was in a mocking ‘you’re adorable’ kind of way, and not a ‘wow, you bought the Bugs Bunny themed sticky notes, that’s very cool of you’ kind of way.

You pushed the drawer closed with your foot, and rocked on your stool, grinning.

Beyond the circle of touching knees, fluorescent lights, and brave glances, there was an abrupt cheer at a scored touchdown. In the lobby, the mothers grouped the chairs together to adore the hiccuping newborn. In the parking lot, the teenage boys drove a remote control car around. The moody girl brought a skewer and marshmallows out to the fire. A Jack Russell terrier panted at your calf. Kevin patted Adrie’s head, and stooped to whisper a secret in her ear as they passed each other outside the glass door.

Eddie took the pom pom end of his Santa hat between two fingers and rattled the bell at you. He looked like he was about to speak, but someone special interrupted him.

“I’ve been sent on a mission. You have to come with me!”

You both turned to Adrie.

When neither of you did anything besides raise your eyebrows expectantly, and she didn’t give more context, nor information, she got impatient. “Come on!” she pleaded with a stomp, and grabbed your hand, and you grabbed Eddie’s sleeve on instinct, practically tripping him over your stool while she dragged you into the hallway.

After several feet, she stopped. You stopped, Eddie stopped.

“What’s the mission?” he played along, linking his hand in hers so you were one big circle. A sardine family.

She didn’t speak. Only grinned, and giggled.

Not catching on, you exchanged a confused shrug with Eddie, and asked her, “Is it a riddle?”

More laughter. Harder, more persistent tugs around your pinky and ring finger where she snared you. And a direct, focused smile aimed above your heads.

Slowly–slowly–slowly–

You straightened up from how you were bent over, and listened to Eddie’s clothes shift as he did the same. You followed the invisible line to where she was looking, tipping your head back in curiosity to see what was taped to the doorway exactly between you, and her beloved dad.

There was silence all around.

From the sharp leaves and red berries of the mistletoe, your gaze began its slow descent to Eddie’s. Passing over the red hat, the wrinkled forehead with messy bangs flattened onto it, the worried eyebrows. His sickly pale cheeks, flushed red lips. Suspended in time. Heart in your tight throat, pounding pulse, stomach twisting. 

You searched the frightened sheen in his eyes.

“I didn’t hang that, I swear,” he whispered.

“I didn’t either,” you promised just as quickly.

It didn’t matter who did.

There was noise all around. The football game turned to a commercial, and heavy feet announced people entering the garage, and approaching the glass door, coming inside to refresh their drinks and nibble at the cheese cubes.

Quickly–quickly–quickly–

“She.. We’ve been watching a lot of Christmas movies, and she must’ve seen it in one of them.” Lowering his voice, he brought his hand up in a sympathetic gesture, trying to explain her behavior. You let go of his sleeve. “She doesn’t understand.. The meaning, and everything.” He paused. “Us.” Another pause, a tic in his lower lip like a tremble. “Working together, and stuff.” Voice almost mute. “That w-we can’t..”

As much as you wanted to smash your lips on his to stop him from overexplaining the multitude of reasons you two couldn’t, or shouldn’t kiss, (you’re at work, this place smells like meatballs, his daughter is right there, Mr. Moore’s shadow breached the lobby, the fact Eddie chose listing coworkers as his rationale for not kissing you and not because you two were friends, but then again, what if he was about to say that, that he only saw you as a friend, and maybe being coworkers was an easier excuse than saying he wasn’t into you like that, oh god–), you had to get out of this situation with grace.

“No, yeah, I get it. Uhm.” Think fast, think fast, think fast. “You know who else is under the mistletoe, hmm?” you drew out the hum to build tension, setting your sights on your target.

Adrie squealed when you snatched her up and spun in a circle, attacking her cheeks with an unrelenting amount of kisses; the type that were quick pecks with lots of kissy noises, so saccharine and fawning and annoying to listen to. Tender and pure and tempting to the man who made a conscious effort to release the pinch of frustration from his face, and remorse from his discontent sigh before answering your question.

“Can she have one of these chocolate snowmen?”

“Only if you’re willing to tire her out before we leave,” Eddie said, taking intentional steps towards you and Adrie on your hip, leaving the mistletoe and its implications behind. He placed a friendly hand along your shoulder blade. His other hand was more menacing on her back, as indicated by her eyes growing large.

He warned her in a stern tone, “If you have too much sugar and keep me up all night, you’ll never have another dessert again.”

She called him out, point blank, nose turned up in triumph. “You’ve already said that before, and I got cookies anyway.”

Your cookies, he said in a quick glance and eyebrow wag at you, before speaking to her again, “You got me there. However.. I would hate for Santa to find out you stayed up past your bedtime.” He sucked his teeth with a pitying shrug. “The consequences are steep. He’s very strict, you know.”

Adrie’s frown was serious.

Eddie was having too much fun using his one seasonal threat to get her to behave.

“Aw, don’t listen to him,” you soothed her. You lifted your chin so she could burrow her head against your neck, and amended, “Well, do listen to your dad, but I have something special planned for us, Adrie.” She roused out of her heart-wrenching pout, and hugged you harder, kicking her feet around your waist in excitement.

You smiled at him, but your gaze fell elsewhere, passing over the men in the hallway, and taking a last, long look at the mistletoe, seeing it for the confusing event it created, not the romantic scene it was known for. “I’ll take her for the night. You go watch the game, or something. Hang out with the adults. I’ve got her.”

The tiny room became overcrowded. Someone whispered, “Oh, aren’t they cute together,” and Eddie chewed on his inner cheek. He removed his hand from you, fingertips slipping over the back of your dress, catching the strap, then your side, below your ribs, above Adrie’s leg. Measured, methodical touches. Not accidents.

While his face lacked strong emotions, there were words in his eyes. Maybe they were an apology for the weirdness you now found yourselves in, or a thank you for taking her off his hands for a bit, or they were something else entirely. He didn’t say.

“You two have fun,” he expressed in his soft voice, and grabbed a cold soda on his way out.

~~~

A cold soda did not unwind him like a beer.

Eddie warmed himself by the barrel fire while the game played. Though any opportunity to talk with his peers rarely expanded past the usual topics of work and raising his daughter, and were frequently shadowed by what was happening on the screen, he didn’t mind the interruption. He knew the rules of the game enough to feel a sense of camaraderie when they celebrated. And really, he just wanted the time to think. Or not think. Definitely not think about how he reacted earlier, stumbling over his words to assure you he wasn’t some creep who hung mistletoe as a way to trick you into kissing him. Absolutely not agonize over his inability to articulate himself, and provide you with an out while also reminding himself why he shouldn’t listen to his impulse clawing to be released, and kiss you on the spot. And certainly not consider your mild response to the whole thing, and how your gaze lingered–for a millisecond–on his lips before you scooped Adrie into your arms.

Eddie ran the heel of palm along his jaw, back and forth, and worked it to the back of his neck, wringing his nape in tight squeezes to release the tension.

A beer was definitely better than soda, but so be it. He downed the rest of it, and justified going inside for another. Of course, his motives for going through the lobby weren’t to quench his thirst, but as he almost ran face-first into the glass door, his mouth went dry.

Your ass in the curve-hugging dress was the first thing he noticed. Noticed it because you were curled into the fetal position on the floor, pretending to die a dramatic death. Oh, and you were wearing a black cape adorned in shiny gold stars, and your mouse ears from Halloween, along with a crown.

The loud crunch of him crushing his soda can got your attention.

“You don’t always have to dress like a mouse for her; she knows who you are,” he said in cool nonchalance on his way to the fridge.

You pointed a pirate’s cutlass at him, regarding him down the plastic blade. “I’m the Rat King.”

The music on the portable radio changed moods from a battle march to a victorious, slow piece.

Ditching the mouse ears by throwing them aside into a small pile of other props, you instructed Adrie to exchange her rapier for a flower crown. “Ooh, ooh! And this is where Clara and the Nutcracker Prince dance. Yeah, hold my hand, lift your leg in arabesque. Just like that.” You walked around her, spinning her in a circle while she posed with her leg behind her, and when you let go, you granted her the stage to improv what ballet moves she knew through pop culture osmosis, clapping and gasping and cheering her on, both of you panting from the exertion of playing an entire cast of characters.

There was a pang in Eddie’s stomach. The usual stuff: wanting to watch, wanting to join, wanting to stop it. The jealousy of being left out of the intimate moment, the yearn to add a third to his and Adrie’s life, the grief of when things don’t work out and this was a mistake. Decisions, daydreams, the reality of you maybe moving away, maybe not. Maybe dating him, maybe not. Maybe making work a place he dreaded coming to again if he tried something and it ended in disaster.

He had no other job options.

And yet..

“Hey.” Eddie traced the rim of the chilled soda in his hand, collecting condensation. “Ah, the TV in there is playing those old claymation Christmas movies in a marathon. D’you guys wanna watch them with me?”

Teaching her to put her toe to her knee in the passé position, you asked, “Don’t you want to hang out and watch the game?” When he didn’t respond, you looked up at him. Immediately, your focus honed in on his shy habit of chewing on his bottom lip.

“Nah. Not really. I’d rather be in here.”

~~~

The breakroom lights were off, save for the dim set on either side of the sink lighting the buffet, and the air was humid from steam curling off the crockpots. On the table were three marshmallow snowmen held together by melted chocolate and pretzel stick arms; remnants of an impromptu competition of which he lost.

It was a warm and cozy affair, made more so by the three of you squished together to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on the small TV in the corner. 

Adrie nestled deeper into her baby blanket. She had the quilt cocooned around her, running her fingertips over her mouth while she watched. Beside her, you sat with your hands laced in your lap, and at the end, Eddie slumped diagonally in his seat, propping his elbow on the back of your chair. Half paying attention to the stop motion film, half congratulating himself on getting this far. It took all of Jack Frost to work up the courage to daintily set his elbow at the very corner of your chair, almost making contact with your shoulder without worrying if he sweated through his deodorant or cologne yet..

But what if his breath smelled bad from the weird combination of food he ate?

Fuck–

The golden retriever lounging on the floor behind Adrie wagged his tail. Kevin’s distinct shuffle came down the hallway. “Well here’s where you three gone off to,” he said. His dog lifted his head, and licked his lips in anticipation for a pet. “Don’t mind me, just came in for another pepperoni slice, isn’t that right, Coop?”

Cooper panted at his name.

Adrie mumbled around her fingers, “I love your puppy. He’s the best.”

“Yeah, she adores him,” you added.

“Aw, you’re a good boy, aren’t ya?” Kevin bent down to praise his dog with a couple of pets under the chin. And when he was finished, he made a fuss about his old knees, and the cold weather affecting them, and the–whatever else he said.

Upon struggling to stand, Kevin sought a place to put his hand for assistance–and wouldn’t you know, the perfect spot was right in front of him. He clutched Eddie’s forearm for purchase, which incidentally took him off guard before he could brace his muscles, and pinned it to the back of your chair. Once the move was complete, Kevin stood and patted the spot he held until Eddie’s arm curved flush against your shoulders. Then he winked and walked off, no longer shuffling. Eddie stared open-mouthed at the determination.

His insides clenched with unreleased tension. The holly hung in the doorway. Things he wasn’t supposed to do. Anxiety, nerves heightened with the sensation of your solid body breathing beneath the weight of him.

Adrie mumbled something about what was happening on screen, and you said something back, nodding.

It’s not like this was the first time he put his arm around a girl. But it was the first time he did so with the burden of pessimism warning him not to.

He scrutinized the side of your face for any sign of acknowledgement that his arm was around you, but if you cared, you didn’t show it. You remained poised as ever.

You didn’t mind, outwardly.

So he didn’t either.

It was only in front of his boss that he lifted his arm to comb the hair off his neck when Mr. Moore entered. And as soon as he was gone, Eddie strung it casually across the back of your chair again, twirling a curl of Adrie’s hair around his finger.

And when Carl came in, you sat forward for the entire duration of his stay, eating a marshmallow while he was in the room. And when he left, you sank back into your seat.

The third time someone came in, neither of you moved. You followed each other’s lead and did nothing. Subconsciously–or consciously–finding the courage to fit your bodies together in a purposeful way, relaxing towards one another, and slotting into the cushiony space his arm allowed against his bulky jacket.

Time went on like that.

The conversation between you two was the easy kind. Wordless, intuitive. Exchanged in the permanent grin affixed to his face, and your tender hums of affection when you looked at him or Adrie. Somewhere in the silent conversation, he summoned the balls to stroke his thumb–only once–over the soft slope of your bicep, and coped with the aftermath of studying the profile of your lips tugging up at the corners.

~~~

The party came to its natural conclusion when the game ended. Eddie scooped what was left in the crockpots into mismatched tupperware he brought from home, filling up an old butter container with chili, and rinsing out the cookware to give back to its original owner. He placed cupcakes in their plastic clamshell packaging, and downsized the veggie tray into a manageable load. You played the part of an amiable host, and wished everyone a happy holiday on their way out, insisting you’d take care of cleaning up. Really, it was no problem. You had Eddie with you, and Adrie was helping by falling asleep with a crayon in her hand.

Eddie listened to you usher them out the door, and lock it behind them once they drove away.

In truth, he preferred them gone when you both made trips to his car, loading the backseat with the leftovers. Didn’t matter if they were room temperature carrots, or the mangled overcooked meatballs from the bottom of the crockpot, he accepted them.

He took inventory of the last containers on the breakroom table while you woke up Adrie, and for once, he felt okay.

Normally stress chewed holes in his stomach this time of year, but knowing the panic of not paying the electric bill before incurring another late fee would be eliminated by the generous bonus Moore gave him in the white envelope tucked away in his inner jacket pocket, Eddie felt.. alright. Like things would be alright. He put enough aside for his daughter to have one big present this year, and things would be alright.

“Ready?” you asked, holding Adrie’s hand in the doorway.

“Yeah, it’s just these two containers, and we’re good. Were we doing anything about the decorations?”

“Nah.” You waved him off. “We can take them down after the break.”

More than happy to get home and reap the reward of a full night’s sleep, he picked her up mid-yawn, and you carried the last of the containers to the car for him. While you found available space to shove the tupperware without it spilling, Eddie swayed with Adrie. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and closed his eyes, feeling himself meld into the drowsy moment, comforted by her weight in his arms.

He heard the gravel crunch from your movement, and your shivered exhale beneath your jacket. It was his turn to put Adrie in her carseat, but when he caught the dewy glimmer in your eye, he thought he might hold onto her for the next eternity if it meant he could earn that soft awe from you again.

However, it was cold out, and he should hurry up.

“Uh, there’s uh,” you started, standing back while he buckled Adrie in. “There’s actually one more thing inside.”

“There is?” he questioned dumbly. He glanced at your incessant finger guns pointed towards the back entrance door, and tried to picture what he left behind.

“Yeah, if you could just help me real quick.”

He shrugged and tucked the quilt tight around Adrie. “I’ll be right back, okay?” She nodded, and covered the lower half of her face with the blanket.

Still cool, calm, and collected, Eddie followed you into the garage, through the glass door, into the lobby, down the hallway, and stopped when you stopped. In the breakroom doorway. Under the..

He struggled to swallow around the lump in his throat.

Adrenaline raced to his nerves, to his brain, to his heart jumping in confusion. The addictive buzz enabled him to remember each detail of your lips parting, the sound of your shallow inhale, and the sting of doubt on his cheeks when you spun around and pried out the noisy keyring from your pocket, shaking them until you found the one to the storage closet.

You turned the key in the door opposite him in the hallway, and reached inside, into the dark. “I, uhm.. I got a present for Adrie, if that’s okay..”

“You..?” He went silent at the large gift bag you held out to him, with the giant portrait of jolly Saint Nick on the front bulging from what was inside.

Second guessing if you were overstepping boundaries with the gesture, you faltered, “If it’s not okay, I can, I guess–?”

“No, no,” he finally said, screwing his eyes shut at realizing he just stood there like a moron. “No, that’s, that’s so nice of you. I-I don’t even know what to say. Just, yeah.. You didn’t have to do something like that.” He accepted the bag, and hugged it to him, crushing the decorative tissue paper sticking out the top.

“I signed it as being from Santa. I figured that was appropriate.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s perfect. Uhm.. wow.”

He was doing his favorite trait–where his smile evolved into an open laugh; a little obnoxious, and a lot flirty–and he could tell when you beamed up at him and your cheesy grin overflowed into a giggle, it was your favorite trait too.

And you kept the presents rolling.

“As Office Administrator,” you said with a spry loveliness in your sidling up to him, “I have some insider knowledge that someone put in a good word for you, and uh, it looks like you’re getting a pretty nice raise at the beginning of the new year.” There was no mistaking who. “And I heard through the grapevine that Mr. Moore is going to start pulling from his retirement in June, and Misty isn’t interested in running the family business, so he’s seeking out a new owner,” you put more than a hint of inflection on the end of the sentence, and gave him a look.

You shrugged your shoulder to your chin. “Anyway, do with that information what you will.”

Eddie stayed stupefied, speechless, staring down at the bag. Because you were you, you ended the conversation with a weak punch to his arm when a car drove into the parking lot.

“That’s Robin,” you said.

He watched you walk away. Down the hall, into the lobby. Putting distance between him and the doorway to the breakroom, where his regrets taunted him.

The sharp leaves and red berries were lost amongst the shadows, but their warning rang true. The reasons he shouldn’t kiss you. The talk he never had with Adrie, the potential expiration date even if things did work out between you two, the issue of seeing each other every day and knowing he couldn’t handle the habitual rejection of ignoring the other’s existence if things went bad.

New year, same old coward.

Except.

An idea.

An impulse.

A vicious desire.

He rejected the rejection. “Wait!”

You turned, and jumped at his sudden appearance. Eyebrows raised in surprise, a fresh smile lighting up your face in the gentle moonlight.

Eddie stopped you by grabbing your hand, wielding you closer with his rough fingers pressed into your sweaty palm until your arms entwined, and your jackets rubbed. He dropped his head to the side with a shameful shake, and ran the tip of his tongue along his teeth, building to an apologetic admission. “I’m doing that thing again where I forget to thank you,” he said, not needing to speak above a whisper as he gazed down at you, unafraid.

“Then thank me,” you replied, curling your fingers around his.

His wavering voice went deeper in his chest, “Words don’t feel good enough anymore.” The bag under his arm crinkled as he lifted a finger at Robin who had come to peer inside the window, and very quickly made herself scarce after witnessing the moment she was intruding on. “You’re too sweet, and I don’t even get to drive you home.”

You encouraged him in a laugh. “Then think of another way to thank me that’s not transportation based.”

A bad thought bloomed warmth across his cheeks. “I will,” he promised, nodding. “I’ll find a better way to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Adrie. Something good.”

“Looking forward to it.”

You lingered for a second, waiting, and when you both remained kissless, you rocked your body into him, cozying your sides together with your joined arms squeezed between in a sort of goodbye hug. “Speaking of Adrie, you might want to get back to her before she becomes a popsicle.”

He inhaled sharply and snapped his head up. “Yeah, I should probably go start the car.”

“Have a good holiday, Eddie. Get lots of rest over the break, okay?”

“I will, I will.”

With an absolutely astounding amount of memories made today, you were both content to step away from each other and go home to begin the tossing and turning, sickly sweet, cold-side-of-the-pillow reminiscing about the brave glances, and daring touches.

You reached for the door handle.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You stalled with your back facing him. Thinking you were sly, you checked the reflection to see what part of you his gaze was admiring, and you laughed.

Finally. He was making eye contact with you through the glass.

“Goodnight, handsome,” you answered, and left with your smile ducked into your collar.

The evening ended spectacularly.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

[4pfsukuna]

Kings get jealous too

Yall voted and honestly the thought of Jealous!sukuna was tooooo good to not write. Reader is black (happy black history month btw). Sukuna does not like to share… or have anyone touch whats his why would a king have to?

The vibrations of my phone for the 3rd time was finally begining to annoy me so with eyes still closed i reach around the bed only to slap something warm and firm.

“Still here sweetheart” i hear the raspy voice of sukuna i dont need to look at him to know hes smirking and my eyes shoot open making direct eye contact.

Finally reaching for my phone hoping to get some sort of clarity i see 100 missed calls, 43 text messages, 17 instagram post. The safest option was to go through my messages as i try to gain memory of why this idiot was in bed next to me.

“Oh sweetheart do you not remember?” He chides cockily and i sit up seeing a picture that nearly killed me. My tongue out… against Sukunas sternum in a secluded corner of the club with him smirking devilishly at me and the next of him carrying me out his hands firm on my ass.

The club.

The club!

Housing yuji had been no problem at all, owing a favor to Gojo i was glad when this was all he needed. Yuji itadori was sweet kind always cleaned after himself and was a genuine pleasure to have around even cooking when away on missions.

The issue? The fact that he was a vessel for a 1000 year old king of curses that was a complete pain in the ass who gets a thrill out of you especially finding out i was kazumi Honoka and had i not resented my family could easily match Gojo or top him . The Honoka clan known for the most powerful flame and fire weilding sorcerers every few generations, squeaky clean image rich and arrogant just as the other powerful clans.

“Sukuna the only reason your not dead is because i havent found a way to exercise you from yuji i know for a fact i could kill you” i seethe only to be met with silence. I hated being ignored and he would do it on purpose as if his pathetic ass being housed by a child was better than me. Growling i pull a dagger from my waist band and swing it at Yuji necks who looks at me in fear but Sukunas mouth breaks through his neck biting the dager making it crumble into a million pieces as if it was nothing more than a cracker.

“You dont even know how to fully weild your cursed energy sweetheart, i could have you dead in 10 seconds and with the remaining 9 dance over your corpse” his mouth cackles from the side of Yujis neck.

This was a typical tuesday morning for us.

“Yet you’re only a pathetic excuse of what you used to be. King of curses yet you’ve been trapped inside of yuji for years how lame” i degrade a sneer on my face as i adjust my shirt.

“I— should we do something about this” Megumi ask from next to Nobara on the couch who looks concered and ready to break us up but not sure how plates of breakfast getting cold. It wasnt even 11am yet.

“No. This is a typical Tuesday it’s kind of like foreplay for them. Usually she ignores him or teases back unless she had a difficult mission” Yuji informs them before shoving another pancake in his mouth and of course he noticed the differences in our interactions i was the only one Sukuna really interacted with anyway.

“How was it?” Nobara looks at me and i sigh. I nearly died because i lost my footing tripping over my own tube of fenty lip gloss, how could i ever admit that.

“Pffft, struggling with a puny curse yet you think you could take me on? You make me laugh, brat” and thats what makes me lose it and ignite the fire flames on my hands my eyes matching as i do cause a groan from Yuji.

“I havent even finished breakfast yet can i atlea—“

I cut him off.

“Release him” i fume cracking my knucles making the flames bigger my breakfast completely forgotten about.

“Yeah release me brat so i can finally have my moment with her” he snaps back at yuji and this time I smirk the fire on my hands dulling.

“If thats what you wanted that’s all you had to say, it’s childish to be mean to a girl you like. Unfortunately you’re not my type��� i grin patting Yuji cheek where Sukunas mouth was only to feel his sharp teeth nip at my hand.

“Youre nothing like the women i had keeping my bed warm just like you’re silly little technique you wouldnt know what to do with me” he chides back the two on the couch getting whiplash from how fast our conversation changes and how quick our comebacks are for another.

“See, foreplay” Yuji utters to them as he finishes his plate of pancakes satisfied with his belly being full leaning back on his seat.

“Well we were going to celebrate you getting back and figure you could use a night out since returning from your mission, but it looks like you definitely need it” Megumi speaks up motioning between myself and Yuji.

————————————————————-

Giggling with Nobara as we take a 6th shot of casamigos to see who would tap out first watching a woman try to flirt with  Megumi who's completely oblivious or just awkward at flirting.

“What's the deal with you and Sukuna? Girl to girl like i didn't even know he spoke unless he had full control” she prys bumping my shoulder which i roll my eyes at.  “Please Yuji told me how he always has an eye on you, always ask about you when you're not around and flirts with you relentlessly”

“He also pesters me” i add sipping the lemon drop the bartender placed infront of us mentioning it was on the house.

“Anything to keep your attention” she smirks while taking another shot. “It’s why he’s taken over Yuji yet instead of burning the entire world down he’s watching you”.

And he is, black tattoos adorned his body as he sits on the sofa eyes piercing through the crowd focused directly on me. Maybe it was the curiosity maybe it was the alcohol but i was tempted to test her theory. 

Swiping another coat of lipgloss over my lips and adjusting my shirt so my boobs were perked up with a quick hair fluff i turn to the guy at the end of the bar Whos been covering our tab for drinks.

“Hello handsome” i grin taking the stool next to him watching the instant lust build in his eyes. I could still

Feel his eyes on me and its only right to give him a show.

The man on the stool looks over at me, double taking before adjusting his posture to give me his full attention.

“My my tonight must be my lucky night an angel like you gracing me with your presence” he praises the strong smell of alcohol on his breath as he twirls one of my dark curls around his finger releasing it with a spring.

“Move” and Sukunas glare is deadly biceps rippling under the club light his shirt long gone.

“Hey pal” the man says setting a hand on Sukunas shoulder unaware of just what was about to happen and i couldnt even warn him my eyes never left the king of curses. 

Without breaking eye contact he grabs the mans hand crushing it the sound of bones crushing couldn’t be hidden by the loud music but i still could only focus on sukuna.

“Wipe the smug look off your face” he grumbles stepping closer the heat of his body rolling off onto me.

“Lord Sukuna, king of curses the almighty and powerful isnt… jealous?” I giggle watching as he takes the shot left behind by the man scowling as he takes the shot next to it as well.

“Dont humor me, he was weak and undeserving. Plus if something happened to you Yuji would never shut up” he… rambles? Oh he was so jealous. Fire literally comes out of my hand unless that man controlled water and in copious amount what harm would he truly bring me.

 “So if i were to go home with him and sleep with him you wouldnt be jealous in the slightest? And i mean hours of letting him have his way with me—“ to which he scoffs rolling his eyes in disgust.

Sukuna wasnt a man of many words more so action so i could talk all i wanted but the best reaction id get was from action. And i knew just how to pull it from him.

“Not even if i did this?” I ask but before he has a chance i bend down coming eye level with his abdomen and drag my tongue from the begining of the black mark to where it ends on his chest smirking when i come eye level with him watching as something dark ignites in his eyes.

___________________________________

When we get home theres not a surface left untouched that he doesnt have me against. Pressing me into the front door as he bites down my neck licking and sucking over my pulse.

“Suk—mmmm” the moan comes out of me as he tugs on my earlobe with his mouth his hands feeling like hot fire on my body. He begins to pull me further in but i pull back giggling at his look of dissatisfaction. 

“I gotta take m’shoes off” im sure i slur my words slightly only to be picked up and placed on the top of the black velvet couch my feet on the seat cushion giving him easier access. Im shocked by how gentle he is untying the straps from around my calfs before he gets frustrated ripping them off.

“SUKUNA!” I yell watching the coy smirk on his face and he leaves a kiss on my calf.

“Whaaaat?” Before another kiss is placed on my knee followed by my inner thigh and right when i think hes going to go under my skirt he switches to my other leg the warmth spreading in my core and i wanted him to stop teasing. 

“Sukuna” i groan but it instead comes out as a sigh feeling his thumbs massage into my inner thigh extremely close to my core as i feel his breath over my underwear.

“Tell me.” He grunts against my core the vibrations shaking my whole insides and maybe my body was just sensitive to him because i could definitely cum just like that. “Tell me what i want”

And hes placing kisses over my pussy through my underwear moaning and something about him wanting me so bad he would kiss me through my underwear turned me on even more. I’m sure he could tell because its not long before his tongue is poking at the sides making me shiver.

“Give me what i want” i counter to prideful to beg alcohol be damned the arrogant grin on his face doesnt budge as he pulls me down so im on the seat easily throwing my legs over his shoulders. Long fingers brush my wet folds as he hooks his finger in my underwear, a lewd comment about me being so wet for him my thongs were clinging to it in a way his tongue would replace.

And hes not lying, he places one long lick from my hole all the way up to my clit, a light swirl around before placing a peck and I feel electric. My head luls back as he uses two fingers to spread my lips open giving easier access to my clit which he sucks kisses licks and moans against.

“Fuck” he groans against it placing a wide open mouth tongue kiss on my pussy and i arch into him? Away? Im not sure my eyes slam shut when i realize hes kissing my pussy the same way he was kissing me against the door and the pure lewdness of his mouth being full of me. The wet smacking sounds were being drowned out by my moans and cries of his name and with a particular flick of his tongue on my clit i launch forward squeezing my thighs around his head which seems to entertain more than bother him.

“Eyes on me” he moans against me tapping my thighs twice and i couldnt even remember shutting them. His lips apply more pressure as my hands get lost in his hair holding him in place which seems to egg him on his motions becoming filthier with every flick of his tongue.

He pushes me back before his wide palms squeeze my thighs grunting as he continues his assault licking me in ways that would leave a mark on my mind before tongue-fucking me which is what sends me into the spiral of cuming for the first time. (And embarassingly fast)

“So delicious” he murmurs licking up every drop and i can feel my heart pounding in my ears as i try to catch my breath. It took him less than five minutes to have me in a puddle, figuratively and literally and my brain scrambled. 

Pulling me forward by my chin he places an aggressive kiss on my lips leaving me dizzy as i taste myself on his lips until he quickly pulls back standing up beckoning me to follow him.

“We need to get you to bed” he speaks and i miss the taunt in his voice taking it as being scolded instead which makes me stop the cold of the hallway floor settling on the pads of my feet.

“What?!” I snap and he raises a brow facing me the taunt evident on his face.

“Unless you want something from me, tell me sweetheart” And it’s nothing more than an attempt to get me to beg but i was entirely not going to. I would never, no matter how mad i wanted him to rearrange my insides.

“No?” He ask cupping my jaw roughly his thumb grazing my bottom lip rubbing the juices on my lip— the moment he fucks up.

Using my tongue to wrap it arround his thumb before sucking it into my mouth watching the desire come full force in his eyes. I release it with a small pop sound a string of saliva connecting his finger to my lip his eyes never moving from it.

“I mean i know you like when i lick your marks up your chest but what about down?” I whisper before my tongue drags down the black lines down to the waist band of the pants pulling them down watching his dick spring out yet the weight, length and girth stops it from springing completely against his abdomen. 

My mouth waters at the sight and i feel myself sink down to my knees keeping eye contact wrapping my acrylic fingers around it. Theres a drip of precum as i slowly begin to pump that i chase with my thumb smearing it against the tip.

Removed from my trance i feel his large hand cup my jaw roughly and the other replace my hand over his length giving a few slow pumps so i eagerly stick out my tongue knowing exactly what he wants to do.  He taps it on my tongue twice before slowly pushing it in my mouth keeping direct eye contact the whole time listening to the way his breath stops as he hits the back of my throat. He feels heavy in my mouth in the most delicious way causing me to moan and give a slight suck.

Its the soft groan that he makes that encourages me to take control pulling back slighty before pushing him all the way down my throat one hand at the base making a twisting motion while the other massages his balls this time earning a “fuck baby” and i almost tease him about it but my mouth was… full.

Pulling back once more for air i swirl my tongue around the tip collecting every drop of precum before licking my way down to his balls and taking them in my mouth. His leg twitches and his eyes are on me with a blown eyed gaze as i swish them around my mouth sending him a wink the smirk coming back.

“Youre such a— fuck… brat taking my dick like this in the…” he stops for a second going to reach for my hair and i almost send a glare until i realize hes just moving it off my shoulders. Hollowing my cheeks and sucking hes brought back to his words. “In the hallway, so hungry for me arent you” he growls 

Moving my mouth back onto his length taking him 4 more times down my throat my hand replacing where my mouth previously was before continuing a bobbing motion. The pace of my bobbing matching the pace of my hand twisting before his hands start caressing my cheeks using it as leverage.

“Such a good girl” he begins stuttering eyes rolling back head falling against the wall. His hips began moving and im not even sure he realizes it and hes fucking my face at a quick pace muttering words in a language that i couldnt identify— maybe something prehistoric.

“Throat so.. mmf… so good, such a good brat. FUCk” he growls when i gag but doesnt stop for a second just continues his rambling. “My brat, youre taking every inch so fucking… so fucking” he holds my head in place as if hes trying not to cum to quick.

Shit thats exactly what hes doing!

Tapping his thigh to gain his attention, the same way he did to me I internally smirk the moment his eyes meet mine and I know exactly what kind of thing would make him release. Slowly pushing down until my nose hits his pelvis as I pull back I give him the longest blink I can exaggerate without looking crazy letting the tears prick my eyes without falling giving the base of his dick and balls a slight squeeze moaning the entire time.

“You fucking demon— nnghhhh”he moans as ropes of his cum shoot down my throat his hips twitching as he holds me in place trying to keep his eyes on me. after hes satisfied everydrop is in my mouth not a single one gone to waste He finally lets my face go before im being pulled up by the front of my shirt. His lips are on mine as hes groping me like my clothes dont exist his hands running all over my body pulling me in closer. 

His tongue swirls in my mouth and its like a mix of both of us before i playfully bite down on his bottom lip feeling him harden against my hip making me grin. He likes it rough i could be as rough as i wanted and hed probably just love it even more.

My legs wrap around his waist the moment he picks me up walking the rest of the way to my room and placing me on the bed pulling me shirt over my head and to inpatient for my skirt and underwear he rips them off. Climbing over me he places a few teasing bites up my neck marking up what hadn't already been marked before pulling back slightly to line himself up with my entrance.

I assume hes going to tease but the squelch and sudden burn of him pushing in makes the corner of my eyes prick with tears only brought back by the sounds of his grunts.

“And you fucking thought id let you go hone with another man and hed have this view of you cock drunk already and all ive done was slide halfway in” he chuckles darkly and i look at where we are connected.

HALFWAY?

“Eyes on me brat” and my leg is thrown over his shoulder before he leans forward giving me a bruising thrust. Well clearly i bit off more than i could chew. His thrust are fast and heavy but not painful. He rolls his hips and my hands fly up to his chest.

Hold on what was this. He sends a handful more thrust just like that with the same force… no not force pressure and i can feel my mouth watering. These werent the quick hard and fast strokes i was expecting. Sure they were rough but—

His large hand throws my other leg over his shoulder pulling a high pitched moan from me and he was entirely to deep inside of me. Its a particular thrust that hits a spot deep inside of me causing my eyes to cross and i nearly push him off of me had it not been for our position.

“Ahhhh looks like i found that sweet spot” he taunts thrusting into it again and i bite my bottom lip trying to hold in the moans. “Cute attempt” and before i could ask what he means he leans forward so were chest to chest and if he wasnt deep before he definitely was now.

“Fuck” he growls against my ear continuing his assault my eyes only catching the way every muscle ripples in his back. He was making his mark and not just sucking and biting but engraving his self in my memory. Every thrust every roll of his hips its like he was trying to make sure i wouldnt forget drunk or sober. Its slight caresses that turn to grips, hip rolls that turn to strong thrust that rattle my whole body bites thats followed by his tongue flicking over them.

The orgasm begins to build and i feel the wetness already sliding down making him grunt picking up the pace. 

“S-sukuna!” It rocks through me before i have time to warn him but he doesnt stop just continues to fuck me through it his chuckles a distant thought it my head.

“You were so jealous” i mutter through heavy pants the only thought i could hold onto before he's pulling out and i'm flipped onto my stomach his length pushed back in this time his hand snaking under me to play with my clit his strokes different this time. 

His fingers are going fast yet his strokes are slow are taunting his balls slapping against me the contrast sends me into another orgasm my brain telling me to fight back. 

“The next time you think IM jealous of another man some puny mortal remember i can make you cum in 30 seconds” he grunts in my ear and i know theres a glare on his face. But he doesnt stop he alternates the pace of his fingers and thrust making me moan out trying to hold back long forgotten.

“You look so delicious” he moans and the sound has my toes curling. He drops half of his weight on me as his other hand comes around grabbing my neck lifting me up so I can see our reflections in the mirror. His maroon eyes were dark and getting darker with lust as we made eye contact through the mirror and for a second my mind turns to mush the only thought was how good he felt with every thrust and pinch of my clit.

“Look at you… fuck falling apart under me” he grunts a smile building on his lips before he licks them gripping tighter on my neck. “You look so perfect taking my cock like this. Getting so… youre making such a mess on me. Youre pussy is so tight and warm and the way youre clenching when i talk… shit. You must like my voice” his grin grows and i look away but the way i clench around him gives me away im sure.

His hand moves from my clit leaving three stinging SMACKS. His grip grows tighter on my throat forcing me to look at him again in the mirror, his hand squeezing over my cheeks.

“Sukuna” i snap or try to but it only comes out as a stuttering moan which satisfies him. 

“Don't look away” he growls and when hes sure im not going to try again he places his hand back on my clit.

“Im not jealous,” he tries to prove his point but it was lost on me i didnt even care i was in complete bliss.

“I can fuck you better than him. He was just going to turn into a boy and jackrabbit you. He wouldnt know what to do with all the woman you are. Me…JEALOUS? No im leaving my mark youre going to remember every touch, lick, bite, shit and thrust. Thats real punishment. Ruining you for every man after me. They couldnt fuck you like this” he rants a deranged look in his eyes before his speed increases and of course.

He wasnt some 20 something year old guy he was a 1000 year old curse with years of experience in torture. Brute force was a mere quick thing and nothing about this was quick.

“Sukuna im going to…” i whine kicking my legs feeling the pressure build up and it was becoming to much for me. I try to thrust back to push him off but that sinister smile grows the widest ive ever seen and instead he pulls me to my knees by my hip. It instead becomes leverage as he uses his other hand to push my back down creating an arch as his pace comes to the fastest its been all night finally pushing in all the way the tip hitting the spot that made my eyes cross again.

“Oh… OH” he chuckles as he watches my fist curling in the blankets the moans no longer quiet but loud screams im sure my neighbors would complain about tomorrow but i couldnt care. 

“Feels good doesnt it, i should make you beg to cum, i should edge you. I shouldnt even.. fuck.. youre lucky youre so pretty i shouldnt even let you cum for even entertaining him. Were you trying to piss me off?” He growls but it all falls on deaf ears. My own shrieks of pleasure are the only thing i can register.

“But since youre here… under me and that stunt you pulled? At that silly little club? Ill be nice just this once brat.” He moans his thrust becoming sloppy as if the thought of me licking him turns him on. 

“Cum for me” he pinches my clit sending me into my demise the hot ropes of cum from him shooting inside of me as his grunts get louder while he rides out our orgasms. 

“Good girl” is the last thing i hear before darkness takes over.

_________________________

Sukuna isnt prepared to glance at the clock at 4:37am. Sure he wasnt fully sleep but being prepared for the brown skinned fire sorceress to wake him up 10 minutes ago for another round was the last thing he expected.

Sukuna loved every second of it. She wasnt like past women who wanted to made sure they just pleased him oh no she wanted to conquer him.  find every kink, every sensitive spot any twist of her hips or clutching of his core that made him putty for her and exploit it. Biting him, sucking on his neck, hair pulls and even slight chocking— ok it was nothing slight about it at all, even when she pins his arms above his head he was losing his senses because everything was her.

She had the audacity to try this and look so fucking good doing it. It was no longer him fucking her but dhe was fucking him and damn did it feel good. She was marking him every inch of his body stating her claim and he nearly felt pride, his brat, fuck did she know how to get him going. So prideful she wouldnt even cum again until he did even if that means he did have to snake one of his hand down to pinch her clit watching her tears come down her face as she fights so strongly.

Sukunas proud and for a moments forget this isnt his body just a mere vessel but hes so proud of her he wants to drop his whole load and really claim her as his own but things are a bit complicated right now. But hes so prpud of her being so strong taking every inch and seeing the lengths of her stubotness but fuck does he want her to cum. He needs to feel the way she cums arounds him and watch as the cream builds up at where their bodies meet, he needs to see that pure look of bliss and feel the desperation as her body clings to his. But he can talk her through it.

“H-hey sweetheart, look at me” he growls angry she had him stuttering and with a sharp thrust upward to meet hers she whines looking down at him.

“What?! Y-youre —-mmmm fuck… youre fucking up my pace” she seeethes through clutch teeth pulling roughly on the hair at the nape of his neck his moans unable to be hid at the pure pleasure.

“Sorry sweetheart” he falsely apologized repeating the thrist again feeling her clench. “Just wanna say youre doing so good, taking me dick so good just like you should” he sits up watching as she adjust using his shoulders for leverage.

“Listen to it… every sound, squelch— youre gripping me soooo tight. I could fuck you all night, loose myself in it. Its so wet and warm and your taking every inch like a good brat for me, my brat” he breathes in her ear before bringing her jaw so theyre eye to eye once more.

“I cant wait to watch you cum for me again, make a mess all over your dick.” He tells her watching as she tries to close her eyes and he sends another rough thrust forcing her eyes back open.

“You have 5 seconds to give it all to me” he tells her darkly left hand going to her clit as a threat not rubbing or moving just pressing into her.

“4” and she presses her forehead against his

“3” he smirks as her hips become erattic the whimpers increasing from her mouth.

“Sukuna!” She snaps digging her nails into his back holding on tighter to him. He grins kissing the side of her head thumb not moving from her clit but pressing harder.

“2” and the wet sounds increase  letting him know he was more than capable of talking her… counting her through it.

“I hate you” she moans releasing all over him sending him into an orgasm as well thrusting his hips so they can both ride it through only stopping when he feels her body slump against his.

“I hate you so much” she speaks through ragged breaths as he leans back never pulling out and he chuckles kissing her head again pushing her hair out of her face.

_____________________________________

“So youre telling me…” i trail off completely speachless when all the memories from last night come back and i can feel everywhere he touched like it was burned into my skin.

His arms rest behind his head the holds that cocky smirk and lazy look in his eye as if i forgot his moans.

“You fucked me like that because you were jealous?” I giggle once more watching as his glare comes back

#jjk x black!reader #jjk smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x oc #sukuna ryomen #yuji x reader #choso x black!reader #megumi x black reader #nanami x black reader #jjk #sukuna smut #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n

[atticsandwich]

but you come back to what you need

pairing: mephistopheles / gn! reader (mc)

fluff, tension, mephisto's usual tsun tendencies, mc annoying their way into mephisto's heart etc etc

it's not your fault you enjoy crashing at the newspaper club room for your midday breaks. it's also definitely not your fault for pretending to be asleep when he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, so it really can't be helped that you're trying to figure out how to get more.

i finally finished it LMFAO... i am so sorry for the delay fellow mephisto lovers....

prompt based off of this tiktok reddit video, although it took its own form eventually. (please give it a listen though it's way too fucking cute)

—

"You're here again?" Mephistopheles groans, seemingly annoyed, putting his pen down as you waltz into his office at the newspaper club room. It's spacious— almost as big as Lucifer's study back at home. You immediately find your place at the seating couch situated at the office's side, feeling your body sink into the soft cushion.

"Previous class drained the hell out of me," you groan, watching the demon across you roll his eyes. "I have a week to list out a bunch of plants I've never heard of and their most effective usage. Potions and stuff," you continue anyway.

"Hmph," he ignores the way you blatantly disregard his posed grievance of your visit, trying to return his focus to his paperwork. "...I have some books on Devildom botany on the second shelf."

You stop yourself from laughing at his attempts at being dismissive— as much as he hates admitting it, you eventually figure out that he doesn't mind your daily visits; an occurence that started out of pure accident, no less.

-

[You recall the first time you barged into his office, out of breath, narrowly escaping Solomon's pure-hearted attempt of making you a surprise lunchbox. You love the sorcerer, you truly do, but you weren't in the mood to have your stomach collapsing onto itself for the next three days. You could only be thankful Simeon gave you a heads up about his plan so you could avoid him during lunch, knowing well enough of your inability to refuse.

"Do me a favor and don't let Solomon know I'm here," he didn't get a chance to retort before you dived to hide behind his chair, just in time as someone started knocking on the office door. With a huff of defeat, he grants the knocker entry— who turned out, to be in fact, the aforementioned sorcerer.

"Mephisto, have you seen my apprentice around? I was meaning to give them homemade lunch, but they ran off right as the bell rang," clearly, the sorcerer was earnest in his actions, but even the demon could feel the malevolent aura emanating from the supposed 'lunch box'.

"No, I have not. I doubt they would come here of their own volition, more especially during break period," he quirked an eyebrow, trying to ignore the almost-vice grip you had on the back of his coat.

"Hm..." Solomon pondered for a second. "That's weird. I thought I saw them run in this direction... I must have been mistaken, then. Thank you anyway, Mephisto!" with that, the clueless sorcerer turned to leave, and it is only when you hear his footsteps fade into the hallways that you breathe a sigh of relief.

Clearing his throat, the demon looks down behind him, and you flash him a bright grin. "I owe you one, Mephisto! You're the best!" you say before quickly wrapping yourself around his back, dashing out of the office before he could say anything in return.

He's relieved you just barely miss the way his face flusters, and the small goofy smile that creeps its way to his face after he double-checks that you're out of periphery.]

-

You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at the memory while picking out the book from the shelf Mephisto directed to. It's been a few months since then, and although your visits started off sporadic, it eventually became a daily thing— much to the demon's proclaimed inconvenience. A facade, considering no annoyed demon would start keeping an extra teacup in his office that wasn't Diavalo's spare, which just so happened to be your favorite color. Or the fact that that his record player started having your favorite music on rotation— a complete coincidence!— he exclaimed in defense when you pointed it out one day. Or even the fact that his seating area, which once felt like a completely separate space from his work desk, was slightly rearranged so the sofa just so happened to be in a closer, more comfortable viewing and talking range— not to mention the blanket draped over the backrest which also just so happened to be perfect for midday naps.

"—And what might you laughing about? I doubt a book on botany is hardly a comedic masterpiece," he quips, pulling your attention away from the book.

"Mmm," you shift your angle slightly to look at him better. "Just remembered something funny, is all."

Rolling his eyes, he gets up from his chair to the room's small tea station, where a pair of teacups are set out, a tray of snacks also already conveniently prepared.

"Barbatos gave me this blend the other day, it's supposed to help out with stress. I'm guessing it'll be useful for Lord Diavolo as well."

"Mhm," you nod along, your focus already returned to your botany study.

You hear him mumble an incantation— probably some sort of heat spell to boil water, and it's not long after that he sets your cup on the coffee table, along with a select pick of snacks you usually went for first. You would've teased him about how he knows exactly which ones you go for it if not for the fact that you're fully engrossed with Devildom's botany, making steady progress on your assignment.

"Thanks!" the faint scent of something familiar hits your senses, though you couldn't quite put a name on it. "Mm, this tea is quite fragrant."

"If I recall, it's some sort of human realm fruit essence infused in the blend," he explains, taking a book from one of the shelves, sitting down across from you. "Bergamot, I think it was? I took a little sip earlier, and it's pretty good; although I expect nothing less from Barbatos."

"Ah, that's what it was. I knew it smelt familiar."

He mumbles something incoherently, though you can barely make out the words 'humans' and 'calming effects of familiar scents'. It really is laughable how he still feigns not caring.

"Done with newspaper work already? It's rare for you to take a break at this time of day," holding back a laugh at his ridiculousness, you notice a more faintly lax expression on his face.

"I'm already a bit ahead in progress, so I can afford a small break. On the other hand, I didn't think botany would catch your interest," he points out.

"There’s a lot of cool stuff here! I didn't think I'd enjoy researching it this much. Plants in the human realm just kinda... grow?... with some exceptions, of course," with that, you start listing off the ones you chose for your assignment, particularly enthused about plants often used for traditional and ceremonial practices.

Before long, you managed to finish more than half of your task, all that's left being to actually put it in paper. Tea drank and snacks consumed, you let out a pleased sigh before letting out a yawn and a stretch. Without a word, Mephisto stands to return both your book and his back to the shelf. This time, he pulls out a record from the display and goes to play it, which you instantly recognize as a record you recommended to him some weeks ago. Before you can bring it up, he throws a glare your way, preemptively sensing the teasing that was bound to come out of your mouth. You laugh at him instead, sparing him actual words (for now).

"Fine, fine, I'll shut up and just take a nap. Happy, newspaper boy?"

Groaning at the nickname, he walks over back to his desk. "Do whatever you want. And I already told you to stop calling me that."

"Mmhm," is all you can say, already comfortably in place with the couch blanket draped over yourself, the soft music from the phonograph combined with being filled from the tea and snacks already starting to lull you into deep relaxation. You hear Mephisto grumble something, and you notice his gaze towards you when you turned your head to look at him— one he quickly broke, pretending he wasn't caught.

"Did'ya say something?" your eyelids grow heavy, sleep starting to take over.

"...Nothing. I'll wake you up before your next class."

"I know you will," you mumble before dreaming away.

—

You're not certain how long you dozed off, but the slight shuffling of an office chair lulled you out of dreamland. Still being sleepy however, your eyes opted to remain closed, hoping to grasp every second of slumber before your afternoon classes. They remained closed when you hear a familiar demon's grumbling noises as he threw another batch of proposal articles in the bin, and they remained close when you sense him quietly walk over to you, his form slowly leaning down over your face. He's so close that you could feel his breath tickle your nose, and you might be hallucinating it, but you think you feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

"Tsk..." you hear him huff out, fingers carefully tucking your hair off your face.

"...I'll never understand why you keep coming back to me," this time, his tone is a lot more soft, you almost didn't recognize it. Half your conscience is telling you to come clean and open your eyes, but you suck it and keep up the act, wanting to see where it goes. You just hope he doesn't notice your own heart beating a mile a minute. You sense him inch closer

"What am I saying..." he whispers to himself.

"...Please keep coming back to me."

In what felt like a blur, you feel the warmth of his lips silently land on the center of your forehead. He lingers there for a few seconds, before you feel him pull away.

Come back, is what you wanted to say, but words have left your throat, and you almost forget you're supposed to be pretending to be asleep.

"...Ugh," he huffs out again, feeling his hair tickle your neck as he lays his head next to yours in exasperation. He snaps out of it in a flash, and you think it slipped his mind that he wasn't supposed to be caught— so much for that anyway, you think. He walks back to his desk, mumbling to himself, and before your mind could start overthinking about what just happened, you slowly sink back into comfort, the last string of thought your mind provided was how much you wanted him to do it again.

—

You wake up fully this time, by Mephisto snatching the blanket from your sleeping form— keep it up and you'll be late for your last class!, he chastises, and you only groan out a pleading 'five more minutes,' in response.

It's not until a few minutes after you get up that it clicks— that wasn't a dream.

Mephistopheles really kissed you in your sleep.

Sure, it was on your forehead, but now you can't help but continue thinking about it. You thought about it as you waved him goodbye as you left the club room, you thought about it the whole time in class, and you thought about it all the way back to the HoL, where you finally let out a muffled scream as you buried your head in your pillow.

You want him to do it again. You wanted him to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, then your—

"Hey, dinner's ready!~" Asmodeus' intrusion cut off your thoughts, but you couldn't even be bothered to care about dinner.

"Hey Asmo?" you ask. The Avatar of Lust perks his brow up in acknowledgment.

"Yes dear?~" it's scary how it's like he can sense what you were thinking...

"...You got any ideas how to get someone to kiss you while awake and not asleep on his couch?"

#obey me mephisto #obey me mephistopheles #obey me x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me #mephistopheles x reader #om mephistopheles

[softevnstan]

*NSFW PROMPT*

Imagine Bucky masturbating to the thought of you.

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral!reader

summary. returning bucky's laundry to his room after owing him a favor, you're spooked at the abruptness of someone returning. taking shelter in the closet on impulse, you find yourself getting a front-row seat to bucky taking care of his pent-up frustrations.

warnings. voyeurism, unintentional exhibitionism, panty stealing, masturbation, soft!dark!bucky (he steals your underwear but he's not a creeper past that), panty sniffing, uncircumcised p (mentioned, not relevant past that), light dirty talk. SMUT - minors DNI. reader technically is breaking and entering but bucky took their underwear so they're even. reader wears thongs but nothing is ever gendered as men's or women's, just implies the reader wears similar things.

a.n. ok so not as long as my usual things but i wanna start finishing requests in general rather than making all of them super longer - it's daunting for me. so have some slightly pervy bucky and you caught him :) no beta, we die like men.

w.c. 5.3k

The sound of skin on skin is obscene; Flooding the quiet air alongside the labored pants and muted groans from Bucky. The slick slide of his fist is hypnotizing - working over the impressive length of his aching cock and twisting his wrist on the upstroke. Bucky moans low, and the sound reverberates to your core.

You hadn’t even intended to intrude on the moment. You’d brought him his laundry after taking the liberty to do it yourself since you knew Bucky suffered from rough days (anything to make it easier for him).  It was a relatively simple task in the grand scheme of things - Laundry. When did it so complicated?

Bucky wasn’t even supposed to have been back yet! How did you get yourself into this mess??

You owed Bucky his laundry due to a favor; he’d come to your aid one night in the rain when you’d run over a bottle and flattened your tire. Bucky had helped you on the side of the road, in the rain, changing your tire. To pay it forward, you insisted you’d help Bucky out with odds and ends given his schedule suffered from hectic changes from having to be on standby for Ross. You knew the help certainly couldn’t hurt and you’d feel better about having him come out to your rescue. After moments of bickering, Bucky agreed for you to help with his laundry; It was the only thing he’d been comfortable letting you do for him. Still learning to let people in.

And you were more than happy to help out a friend. But when you’d insisted to pay back Bucky, you didn’t expect it to bite you in the ass in the sweetest yet worst way possible. 

Admittedly, you were in the wrong to an extent here. Going into Bucky’s apartment while he wasn’t there? Big no-no, but leaving the basket outside the door wasn’t an option. Someone could steal it! Then what kind of friend would that make you?

Bucky lived above you in your shared building. You’d met at the laundromat around the corner one late evening and eventually weened yourself into his friend circle through tokens of affection - such as making plates for Bucky on nights when you had extra, or talking to him when you’d catch him on the fire escape overhead while watering your plants. Through persistence and patience, you were proud to say that you were one of Bucky’s friends. It especially elated you when Bucky would confirm such statements.

With becoming Bucky’s friend, you also eventually became aware of the rock that sat on the metal grates on the fire escape above yours. The first time you’d spotted it, it’d confused you - how did a rock get in a place like that? Your apartment was on the second floor, Bucky’s on the third! Was someone throwing rocks at Bucky’s windows? You never heard anything shattering or breaking, and as far you were aware, the window seemed well intact when you’d stretched out to sneak a glance at the casement. Nor had you recalled any mumbled gripes about the potential disturbance - therefore ruling out that as an option. You’d pondered it for a long while.

Eventually, you found the opportunity to inquire about the rock to Bucky one day a few weeks ago - ‘Spare key.’ was all he had told you.

It made sense; Bucky was an enhanced super soldier - scaling the side of the building to get his spare key (or just going out through your window - you’d let him if he asked) was a minimal feat at best. He wanted multiple fail-safes. 

That fail-safe had come to your aid earlier that day. After shakily climbing the flimsy metal ladder to the floor above you, you’d been relieved to come into contact with the flat landing of Bucky’s fire escape. You found safety in the more-so-stable steel grate that held your weight; The cool breeze of the afternoon served as a reminder that you were three stories above the ground and falling would be extremely inconvenient. 

Clambering with the rock was… Interesting. On the surface, it really did look like a simple rock. In your hands was only when you could tell it wasn’t; It was light in your palms and there was a line dividing the ‘rock’ into halves to anyone who was paying attention long enough to find it. Weighing in your palms, you took a moment to examine the rock and appreciate the ingenuity of the hiding place.

After attempting to pry it open with your fingers - trying to find the best means of opening it - the phony rock popped open into two pieces. Briefly, it sent a strike of fear wracking your body. The key clattered against the fire escape, stealing your breath with a shrill gasp. You quickly attempted to scoop the key up before it slipped between the slots in the steel and was lost on the ground. The last thing you needed to do was lose Bucky’s spare. Sure, you could go looking for it on the ground, but it’s about principle and responsibility.

With the brass clutched safely in your fingers, you breathed a sigh of relief before slumping against the brick wall of Bucky’s apartment behind you. Everything after that would be a piece of cake. The only thing left to do was head up to Bucky’s apartment and drop his laundry off. You’d give the key back in person when you caught up with him rather than taking your chances on the rickety metal that made your heart drop to your stomach with every creak.

After safely returning to the comfort of your apartment, you pocketed the key in your jeans for safekeeping. Then after gathering the blue, plastic laundry basket full of all of Bucky’s folded clothes, you left your apartment and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Eyes traveling the corridor, you’d scoured the orientational numbers on each beige door before halting at the door with golden numbers counting out ‘306.’ 

Rather than knock, you balanced the long basket on your hip and used your free hand to fish for the key and unlock Bucky’s apartment - telling yourself it’d be a simple in and out; Unbeknownst to you it was about to be anything but.

Bucky’s apartment was far drab compared to yours. Filled with the bare essentials, his walls didn’t hold photos or paintings of the things he loved. The coffee table he had was overwhelmed with stacks of books; A bookcase still in its box and unassembled sat perched against the living room wall. You didn’t help yourself to his home past entering, but it didn’t stop your eyes from searching curiously. His kitchen was so empty; The fridge only held a grocery list and the drainboard was full of clean dishes Bucky must’ve done recently after a build-up. Everything looked so untouched; So empty - it was disheartening to you. If Bucky were to take the time to actually personalize his space, maybe his bad days would take a little less of a toll on him without bare walls threatening to close in on him. 

That was for another day. In the meantime, you made quick work of carrying the basket to Bucky’s bedroom. Simply telling yourself you’d set the basket down and leave it before returning to your own apartment and getting a start on dinner. But when you pushed the door open to Bucky’s room, you were surprised by how lived in it seemed compared to the rest of the apartment.

There was an empty glass on Bucky’s nightstand, as well as two half-full water bottles and a digital alarm clock. Alongside the bottles sat a small, red pocket notebook with a pen next to it. The bed was half unmade; The queen size bed only being ruined on the right side, next to the nightstand. So much of his room appeared second-hand; The area was a mess of items and clutter but nothing too gaudy or expensive. You half wonder if this is a contributing factor/result of the man’s depression; Especially considering none of it looked dirty - simply unkempt. Mustering the energy must’ve been far few and in between when his priorities tend to lie with work. By the time Bucky returned to his apartment after a day’s work, perhaps he didn’t have the energy by then to keep the room maintained.

Maybe you could help him with that one day.

A desk nearby was lined with journals; Stood against the wall with their empty spines outward towards you. There had to be roughly ten to thirteen - you hadn’t counted out each one, simply guessed. A small lamp was left on at the desk; Casting the desk in a yellow light. Sticky notes and pens are scattered across the flat, wooden surface. There was a roll of tape, a bottle of paste, scissors, and the clippings of what looked like a newspaper detailing the refurnishing of the Captain America exhibit left out. A brown leather journal sat left out and untouched amongst the supplies, and you assumed it was Bucky’s most recent diary.

Setting the laundry basket on top of Bucky’s dresser, you took a closer look at Bucky’s desk. Temptation left your fingers to twitch curiously at what could be hiding in the drawers but knowing better than to help yourself. As many secrets this room no doubt had that could bring you closer to Bucky, you knew being any more invasive than you already were would deter him. Push him away. You wouldn’t want someone rifling through your things, either.

Bucky always held you at an arm’s distance. One day you hoped he no longer did; That you’d be welcomed into these spaces freely rather than technically intruding in on them. You could only hope Bucky wouldn’t be too upset; You had good intentions, you swear.

Though, as the saying goes, ‘curiosity killed the cat’. After abandoning the basket, you tentatively moved to Bucky’s desk. Crouching to peer into the round trash can that was full of crumbled and torn papers, and excess clippings that Bucky hadn’t needed for his journal. It was trash, yes, but you were curious. You’d only managed to search for a few seconds in shifting through the papers when you were suddenly jarred by the sound of the lock in the foyer sliding open. You heard the door opening next. The apartment was silent save for your breathing, which made it easy to hear, but it also made it easier for you to be heard. 

The abruptness of someone’s return shocked you; Jumping right up to your feet and eyes flickering for somewhere to hide - you were somewhere you shouldn’t be, after all. In retrospect, it was the wrong option. The only reasonable person it would be was Bucky, but you didn’t know that at that moment. And in a world where aliens and robots co-exist and the world has been on the brink of end countless times, you come to expect the worst of situations. Better not to take chances. So hiding out in the closet was instinct; Even if it was the wrong choice. And if you’d taken a moment to remember entirely where you were, you’d have been able to put together that it was Bucky returning but the thought was far from your mind in those short few seconds it took you to get to your feet. Without thought, you quickly advanced towards the closet that was a quarter of the way open; Hanging clothes peeking back at you. 

Sliding the door open, you hid inside the closet without a second thought - silently trying to slide the door back as you had found it and leave the room as untouched as you could manage. It was only then, standing on Bucky’s extra pair of shoes and attempting to not stumble over yourself, you thought to yourself: Genius idea - now what?

You didn’t have to ponder the next course of action for too long.

The heavy footfalls of Bucky’s boots on the wooden floor resounded through the empty apartment, drawing nearer and nearer. Your heart jumped into your throat, holding your breath as your mind scrambled for the next reasonable phase of action - springing out on Bucky would no doubt startle him, and lying in wait was hardly an option. Perhaps he’d leave again and a window of escape would open, even if it meant clambering down the fire escape and praying Bucky’s enhanced hearing didn’t catch your commotion. 

That meant getting to the window itself, though, which was going to be a monumental feat. Especially when you hear the click of Bucky’s heels entering the same room as you. Bucky comes to a halt somewhere around the entrance to the room; You hear no movement, no sound. Your heart pounds in your chest; Fearful he may somehow know you’re there. The last thing you wanted to do was shatter your trust in this man. It was a long moment before Bucky’s feet pick up again and he enters the bedroom. Great. Getting out undetected just became leagues more complicated.

A hollow sigh emitted from the man behind the door, and in the seconds following you could hear the springs of his bed whine under his weight. The shuffling of sheets, and still, you’d hardly breathed in that time. Body kept as stiff as possible in the cramped, dark space. 

It’s the sound of a zipper that surprises you.  Not daring to peek, you allow your mind to attempt to fill in the blanks. The long ‘ziiiiip’ leaves you to believe it’s Bucky shedding the layer of the coat he lives in - he runs cold easier. He explained it to you one time; His serum and all of its laced dysfunctions.

Bucky mumbles something to himself about the thermostat and what temperature it's on, and part of you realizes you missed his voice. Sure, Bucky was only going about his daily work while you both were apart, but hearing him and knowing you were in the same room with Bucky did bring about an odd sense of natural comfort. Just beyond this door, he was at arm’s length. What would it be like to welcome Bucky home after a long day of work?

Your thoughts are jarred when you hear the slide of a drawer. Tentatively, you lean towards the barely-there gap between the door in the wall to peek through. Bucky is sitting on the bed, one leg draped off the side and the other up with him. He’s tight up against the headboard, sat up as the soldier shuffles through his nightstand drawer. Bucky’s brown leather coat is abandoned on the edge of the bed, leaving him in his dark navy jeans and a black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination in regard to miles and miles of muscle. It’s only then you notice the fact that Bucky’s fly is unzipped as well; The flaps of his jeans are pulled open to show his gray boxer briefs that hug his hips all too well.

The moment feels utterly invasive. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be seeing any of this - this is Bucky’s private time, but there you are, with a front-row seat, helpless but to watch.

What Bucky produces from the drawer is a clear bottle of water-based lube and… Underwear. It only takes a few seconds for horror to creep up your spine and realization dawns. It’s your thong.  Specifically, a black pair that you’d thrown into your laundry the other day; You feel shame creep up your face and color your cheeks - a sense of violation but that would make the both of you even, wouldn’t it? You’re intruding on him after all. 

You follow Bucky’s hand holding the bottle of lube as he slots it between his legs and propped up on his inner thigh; Your glance moving further to acknowledge the semi-bulge in his underwear. The angle is perfect, his headboard facing the closet doors and providing you with the best view of his spread thick thighs. 

It makes your heart pound in your chest; Your guts swoop with something akin to excitement and guilt ebbs in your mind for the fact that this is bordering on arousing. For a moment you humor the thought of how thick Bucky must be fully erect; How the weight of his cock might feel on your tongue. It’s not the first time you’ve indulged yourself privately in such explicit thoughts of your friend, and part of you had always felt silently contrite for the sexualization, but now you had a direct show. It was like finally having food for thoughts; A burning in your chest. It can’t be real, can it?

Coming to your senses, you tear away from the display face a hot face and a dizzying mind. You take a deep breath, scrubbing hands down your face attempting to cool the flush. You can’t watch something like this - how did Bucky even get your thong? Did he go snooping in your apartment? Did he take anything else?? Confliction tugs in your chest, almost frustrated with yourself for finding a sense of arousal in the thought. 

Bucky going through your things when you’re not there, taking something so intimate like a trophy… It should disturb you - someone breaking into your apartment. But thinking about it longer makes your gut feel tight and arousal swell between your legs. Were there chances he’d watched you in other intimate moments? Moments where you cried his name, muffled by your pillows and impaled on your favorite toy? It was more than just a thong, it was all the implications that came with the gesture. Was this the first time? Were there others? Questions ran a hundred miles a minute through your mind. Grounded in reality for half a moment and reminding yourself this isn’t a fantasy. It’s real, it’s wrong, it’s— A low, husky groan stops your train of thought. Going stock still, you take a moment to actually listen to what’s happening. Paralyzed in the dark, you realize you could now hear the slick slide of what you assumed was Bucky’s hand on his cock. The short pants from Bucky hung in the air; “Aw, that’s it…” Bucky husks, arousal thick in his quiet tone. “Needed this so fuckin’ bad…”

Another burst of arousal rings from your core and makes your skin tingle. The sounds are so obscene…

Against your better judgment, you redirect your attention to the gap in the door. 

You’re greeted with the delicious sight of Bucky’s pants shimmied down his thick thighs, bunched up before his knees. His cock stands half erect, his flesh fingers wrapped around the length with fingers slick with lube. You can see his heavy sac, the curve of his cock, and the way the head of his cock is slick with pre-come when his foreskin is drawn down on the stroke. He has a pretty dick, all things considered; Bucky keeps himself well-groomed in regards to his pubic hair from what you can tell, and his cock looks thick - even he barely manages to wrap his fingers entirely around the base of his cock and pump.

The motion is hypnotizing, and as much as you’d love to continue to swallow the sight whole, you can’t help but be distracted by his vibranium arm. The one that’s holding your thong between sleek black and gold fingers, held to Bucky’s face as he breathes you in. Eyes closed in bliss.

Nose buried into the fabric while he fists the length of his cock, the pornographic act surprises you. The way Bucky is so enthralled and aroused at that moment, knowing that it’s because of you, and having the dirty little secret of watching Bucky jerk off. To watch him in one of his most intimate positions. 

You’re already stuck here. What more is there to lose? You can only sell your soul once. Your hands slink down between your legs, fingers slipping past the hem of your pants and into your underwear; Fingers getting to work at coaxing your arousal.

“F-Fuuuck,” Bucky huffed out, fingers tight around the base of his cock as he jerked himself off; Fucking up into his own fist with minute thrusts, his slit weeping copious amounts of pre-come. His face still buried in the fabric of your thong, the long draws of inhales through his nose making you squirm.

You could only imagine what was going through Bucky’s mind when it came to you. What he could possibly be thinking of to egg on his own arousal so deeply? He pumped to the thought of you, and you watched his angry red cock drool at the attention. You wanted to stay with Bucky through this. Feel good with him; Pretend you were part of the equation.

With your heart pounding in your chest and your head feeling airy, your circle your fingers around your needy hole before working them in. Working experimentally to loosen your aching hole and allow the penetration; Sinking to the first knuckle as you fucked your fingers in and out of your entrance. Nowhere near the same brutal pace Bucky maintains, working yourself gradually to take the intrusion. The slide is made easier when your wetness slicks the inside of your underwear and ruins another pair.

Your needy hole swallows your fingers easily; made simple by the arousing nature of the situation. The guttural sounds from Bucky’s throat as he inhaled your scent, sending shivers down your spine with the raw display. 

“Oh God, Y/N,” Bucky groans low in his throat, the sound of your name rolling off his tongue taking you off guard. "Mm, yeah, I love your hands…" his voice is breathy, the way it hits your ears makes it feel as though Bucky is right behind you and whispering it in your ear for half a moment - you clamp a hand over your lips to avoid squeaking out a noise you shouldn't as your fingers make progressively faster work fingering yourself open. 

Bucky is pretending it's you there.

You feel like butter, bracing against the wall of the closet as you became a victim to your own lust. Fucking yourself open in the rhythm of Bucky's tugs on his hard cock. 

"Ri-Right there," Bucky speaks to himself through labored pants. "God, mm, such a good baby… Yeah, y-you're my sweet little doll-baby..." The praise coaxes you on; A barely audible muffled whine vibrates along your palm. You freeze entirely and go stock-still upon the realization you’d made some sort of noise, but Bucky’s rhythm doesn’t falter. He hadn’t even heard you. 

Relief washes over you, tight shoulders going slack before you allow yourself to melt into the euphoria of the moment again.

Bucky creates such beautiful noises on his own, but part of you imagines he’d be too self-conscious to be nearly as vocal with a partner. When you peek out at him, his jaw fluctuates between slack and baring his teeth with a clenched jaw. His swollen lips curling into a perfect ‘o’ shape as he strokes his delicious cock before worrying the flesh between his teeth again. The sight burns into your memory; Forever immortalizing itself. You’ll never need to look at another man again, truly.

Still he holds your thong to his nose, breathing in the scent deeply until he changes things up. Bucky sits up just a little more, and you bite back a keen that the show has come to a pause. Bucky shifts his weight on the bed in what you assume is an attempt to get more comfortable. He rucks up the black t-shirt to reveal the pleasant happy trail that cascades over his navel and belly button - the star of the show and stealing the spotlight is his abdomen; The man looks chiseled from marble, even with the scars that are speckled throughout his physique. Bucky’s perfect.

Bucky, still holding your thong, alternates his hands. Wrapping the fabric around the length of his cock and resorted to quick flicks; Using something that touched your most intimate places to aid in his solo session. You watch Bucky’s cock jerk with interest, and he husks out a delighted chuckle that bleeds into a blissed moan. 

His eyes never shut. Steely blue gaze always peering open and aware, it just adds to the adrenaline of hiding for you. It excites you. Wondering what would happen if he peered towards the closet and caught your gaze; In an ideal world, he keeps jerking off to the thought of you - sharing the filthy moment together and shamelessly. 

“That’s it, sugar,” his voice rumbles, and if you close your eyes, you can pretend it's you and him, not your defiled thong. You screw your eyes shut and strain to listen, fingers still working meticulously between your slick wet inner thighs. “Y’take it so fuckin’ well, made for my cock…”

You imagine what it’d be like to feel him slide home in you. The way your walls would flutter around the stretch and how Bucky would stretch you open. You’d feel so full, you imagine. Taking inch after inch until he was buried in the hilt. Would he be a rough lover? Would he jackhammer your poor hole until it was simply stretched and dripping with his come? Would he hold you missionary so he could see your face when you came around his cock?

You squeeze your thighs together and exhale shakily into your palm - attempting to control yourself even as you still finger-fuck to the beat of Bucky’s strokes. Your legs tremble with want. After a moment, your eyes squint open to see what Bucky is doing now…

Bucky’s intent focus is fixed on soiling the material he holds. Smearing his pre-come into the fabric and staining it with traces of him. He ruts into the fabric before fucking into it all together. Fisting it around his aching girth and wrapping his dick with the cotton and treating it as if it were his own hole to fuck. Though you imagine it not nearly as gratifying.

His head falls back; The column of his throat is exposed and you imagine littering it with kisses and hickeys that wouldn’t last. He’s utterly lost in that moment, hips fucking subtly off the bed into your underwear that’s wrapped around his cock. You try to meet the pace with your fingers, thrusting into your slick channel and the arousal creeping into every last crevice. Your skin feels hot, mind fuzzy with desire. Your hand isn’t enough, you wish you had more, but it’ll have to do. Fingers thrusting in, you eventually manage a third alongside your two. Bucky’s fingers would be bigger, thicker. They could hit every best part of you, or perhaps they could fill your wanting mouth while his cock takes up every last inch and then some inside of you. 

“O-Ohh, oh fuck, doll, m’gonna come,” Bucky moans, and your heart jumps into your throat. “Yeah, m’gonna fill up your greedy little hole, gonna fill you up with my fuckin’ come ‘til you’re drippin’ with it…” 

You wish you could consider it a promise, the words egging you closer and closer to your own teetering edge. His voice is so rough, the words so sultry and filthy - you’d never heard Bucky speak in such an obscene way and it reached to your core.

His hand impossibly quickens as lube-covered fingers come to roll his balls between them. Watching Bucky play with his sac left you on the cusp of drooling; You could only imagine the lewd sound his balls would make clapping against your flesh in the haze of his animalistic fucking. He’d sink balls deep into you, making you take every last drop…

“Please, please, please,” you whisper a litany in barely a breath to yourself. Begging for a man that doesn’t even know you’re there; Reduced to such a needy and wanting thing as you draw on the cusp of your own orgasm. It’s only when you angle your fingers just right and curl against that sweet spot, you see stars. It drives you right over the brink of your orgasm, hand clutching over your mouth so hard it hurts.

It’s perfect timing. As you unravel in Bucky’s closet, knees nearly buckling under you, Bucky reaches his own climax. You can tell in the way the crease forms between his brows and his eyes finally screw shut; Groaning like an animal in rut out into the air as his hips stutter and falter. You watch the fabric dampen, and the slick seed trickle down to the seam of his balls and stain the sheets under himself.

“Fuck!” Bucky moans, and you tremble.

It’s an absolutely gorgeous sight. Watching the way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, the sweat glistening on his flushed skin, and the mess of come that Bucky unloads into your thong. You’ll never look at the pair of underwear the same if you ever even see them again.

You pant, feeling like jelly and rather defeated by being stuck in the closet. You long for nothing more than to pull that door open and crawl into bed with Bucky, or at the very least, find sanctuary in your own apartment. 

You nearly laugh when you remember the turn of events that even brought you to this moment.

Carefully, you coax your fingers from your used hole. Biting your lip to bite back the whine that nearly leaves you when you clench around nothing; Empty. The floor of the closet is littered with shoes, and without much thought, you brace your hand on the door in an attempt to steady yourself and find better footing before you go crashing to the floor. The door gives. The way you’re holding on with your palm flush to the cool surface, the door braces against the metal horizontal rig and leaves the door to shake. The applied pressure makes the door give, and slide open; before you could find leverage on anything to save you from the fall, you stumble harshly in Bucky’s closet - meeting the carpeted floor below. Your heart is suddenly pounding in your ears, pierced with a new sort of fear and a way less sexy one.

When you prop your arms under yourself to lift up, Bucky is already standing at the closet door. Your eyes nervously raise up the length of his legs, over his half-soft cock that’s eyes level with you, to the used thong in his hands. Further up, you find that piercing gaze looking down on you. Cast in Bucky’s shadow, you suddenly feel so small as he looms over you. A grin fixed on his lips and pupils blown; it looks like he wants to eat you alive.

“Well, well, well, what're we doin' in here…?” Bucky purrs, the opposite of the anger you expect. “B-Bucky!” You gasp, the ecstasy of your high gone and instead holding a prickling knot in your stomach. “I– I wasn’t— This—” “Oh, sugar, what’re you makin’ excuses for…?” Bucky asks, voice low and almost threatening. “You think I wouldn’t notice the basket when I came in with an unlocked door? How stupid you think I am, pretty thing…?” Bucky’s sultry and rough voice sends another jolt between your legs and straight to your core. Your face burns with shame and humiliation with the implications.

Bucky knew you were there the whole time.

“Aww, nothin’ to say for yourself, baby…?” The tone is almost condescending albeit with an underlying heat. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer uselessly, voice quaking with a mix between arousal and fear.

Bucky holds up your defiled thong before tossing it into your lap.  You jump, lifting up the thong with your fingers and only then see the load stained on the inside of the underwear. You swallow around the tightness in your throat, tentatively looking back up at the hulking man.

“No, you’re not. But you will be.”

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[unfinishedslurs]

fwb to lovers (steddie)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says. “I can do casual sex. I’m great at casual sex. Friends with benefits will be a breeze.”

“You’re full of shit,” Robin says flatly. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t do friends with benefits, Steve,” Eddie cringes from his hiding spot behind a shelf, like a criminal who’s been doing friends with benefits with Steve. “You fall in love with every age-appropriate friend you have. Add chemistry and compatibility to that mix, and you’re toast. Might as well slather you in butter and jam, that’s how toasted you are.”

“I don’t fall in love with all my friends,” Steve protests weakly.

Robin holds up a finger. “Nancy,” she starts.

“That doesn’t count! We weren’t friends until after we dated.”

She ignores him, putting up another finger. “Jonathan.”

Eddie frowns at that, mentally going back and pulling up every memory he has of Jonathan and Steve interacting. The jokes that Steve threw his head back to laugh at, the flush on his cheeks. It makes sense, and Eddie doesn’t like it. 

Then he realizes how ridiculous that is. He’s the one sleeping with Steve, a feat he’s fairly sure Jonathan hasn’t accomplished. Jonathan doesn’t know the sounds Steve makes when he comes, or how amazing Steve looks on his knees. Eddie smugly puts his jealousy to the side in favor of listening in. 

Steve has turned a bright red. “You can’t—”

“Me.”

He gives up trying to stop her, putting his head on the counter in shame.

“Plus Eddie,” she finishes, raising a fourth finger and waving it at him. Eddie nearly falls over with surprise. Sure, the whole conversation had been gearing up to it, but he wasn’t expecting an actual confirmation. Steve doesn’t even argue. “Four for four, Steve. Not including Tommy, Carol, the Tommy and Carol incident, or the time you made out with Argyle, which actually makes seven. Do I need to keep going?”

Woah, woah, woah, what? Here he is being jealous of Jonathan when fucking Argyle is the one he needs to watch out for. Eddie briefly wonders if he can get away with putting hair remover in his shampoo or some shit. Weed out the competition. 

No, that’s too far. 

He also wants to hear more about this Tommy and Carol incident. 

Robin is still waiting for a reply, eyebrow raised. 

“No,” Steve mutters into the counter.

“That’s what I thought.” She hops up on the counter, lightly tugging his hair to get him to look at her. “I just listed all your friends who aren’t toddlers, so which of them is it? Fair warning, if it’s Jonathan I’ll just kill you to put you out of your misery.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Jonathan?” Steve asks, afronted. Maybe Eddie should be jealous.

“Nothing! Except the part where he’s your ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend. Even if they are in the middle of the world’s most awkward slow-burn breakup, that’s not the Dingus I know.”

“Are they really?” Steve asks, apparently oblivious to something even Eddie could see from outer space. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not Jonathan. It’s…it’s Eddie.”

“Eddie,” she echoes, entirely unsurprised. “Steve, you know I hate to be the voice of reason, but that is a remarkably bad idea. Like, Jesus, that’s rough.”

Ouch. He thought Robin liked him. 

Steve smirks. “So is he.”

“Ew.” Robin throws a VHS case at him. 

“Ow! Hey!”

“Dingus! Why is your brain so nasty all the time?”

“Oh, like yours is so pure. I can see your rent history, Buckley. How many times have you watched Fast Times this week?”

They’re off, bickering like the world's worst comedy duo, and Eddie has to stifle his laughter into his hand. Jesus, but they could go on television with this shit. Buckley is a master at coming up with insults. 

Finally, they wind down, and Robin leans against Steve. “You know this is gonna break your heart, right?” She asks quietly, sadly. Eddie busies himself with studying the back of whatever movie is in front of him, pretending he’s not straining to catch every second of this conversation. 

“I know,” Steve answers. Eddie’s heart skips a beat. “Worth it, though.”

“Is it?”

His laugh is hollow. “I guess we’ll see.”

The thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to break Steve’s heart. He wants to hold it in his hands, feel along the steadily-beating shape of it, learn all the things that make it tick. Wrap it in bubble wrap, store it away in his own chest so that no one else can get to it. Keep it safe. 

There’s just one problem with that. 

Eddie’s never been on a date in his life. 

Everyone knows Steve is a romantic. He’s the kind of guy who’ll buy flowers for a date, chocolates for Valentine’s Day, take you to the movie theater and make out in the back. All the classics. Eddie’s version of romance so far has been sacrificing himself to the wet spot so Steve wouldn’t have to deal with it. 

If he’s going to date Steve, he wants to do it properly. Which, okay, they can’t really risk necking in a theater, and they’d have to be careful at a diner, and Lover’s Lake is out for obvious reasons, and—

Jesus, dating as a queer is fucking hard. He hasn’t even been on one yet, and he’s exhausted thinking about all the hoops they’ll have to jump through. Maybe they could just get takeout and a movie, like they always do.  

No. No. He just said he was going to be romantic, dammit!

What is romance, anyway? Really it’s just a false sense of meaning attributed to certain gestures instead of others. In a different universe, ding-dong ditching burning dog shit on someone’s porch is probably a declaration of intent. 

Hmm. 

No! 

Okay, romance. He can do romance. After all, he wrote the greatest love story of all time. Between Sir Severus the knight and the great bard Edith the Magnificent. 

He’s never claimed to be subtle. 

He stares down at his notebook, page empty and mocking. He’s going to need some help. 

With a huff and a dirty look at the notebook, he heaves himself out of bed. Stalks through the hallway so he can punch a number in the phone with more than a little vehemence. 

“Wheeler? Yeah, it’s Eddie. Can you put your sister on?”

“Romance,” Nancy repeats, brow furrowed. “You’ve been sleeping with Steve, and now you want to romance him.”

“Yep.”

“And you came to me and not Robin because…”

“She can’t keep a secret from Steve. C’mon, Wheeler, you know this.”

She purses her lips in a way that he knows means she agrees with him. “You know,” she says, “As someone who did date Steve, I think he would just be happy to be with you. You could be doing anything, and it would be amazing to him because you were there.”

Eddie stares at her. “That’s such a cop out.” 

Her face instantly goes from sweet to annoyed beyond comprehension. It’s his favorite expression of hers. He makes sure to bring it out often. 

Eddie puts a single rose on Steve’s nightstand. Yellow, like his favorite color. There, he thinks proudly, declaration of intent. 

Nancy is less than impressed when he tells her. 

“What’s the problem?” He asks, affronted. “It’s a fucking rose! In his favorite color! There’s no way to misinterpret that!”

“Did you even read the pages I copied for you?”

“I started to, but then I remembered that yellow roses exist. He looks really good in yellow, and it’s his favorite color, so he’d probably appreciate a yellow rose. See? Romantic.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before pulling the book off her nightstand and flipping through the pages. He doesn’t get what the big deal is, he thinks his idea was pretty fucking swell, actually. He tells her so. 

The answering look she gives him could level a city. 

“It’s a nice idea,” she tells him. “The sentiment is right. It would be perfect if his favorite color was anything else.”

“What’s wrong with yellow?”

She purses her mouth and shows him the book, open to roses and their color meanings. 

“Son of a bitch!”

Friendship roses. Fucking friendship roses. Most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

#fwb to lovers au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #i just think nancy and eddie would have the kind of friendship where they're super close but also so sososososo catty #either to each other or other people. judgemental besties #rip eddie you try to tell a guy you're in love with him and you accidentally friendzone him even more #stranger things fanfic

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Secrets Kept From Him Series Ran Haitani x Fem Reader Chapter 2 : Uncovered Secrets chapter 1 WC: 4590+ Resident: @enchantedforest-network TW: Past relationship with Ran, Disappearing, Slight Suggestive Themes, Angst, Drinking, Suggestive Language, Secret Child He Doesn't Know About (unedited) MINOR DNI 18+ Synopsis: After running into him at the hotel, his mind begins to wonder if there is someone else. He asked you to meet him at his penthouse to talk. The conversation you have been dreading to have if you ever encounter him once again. Your reason for leaving.

It killed you as he softly spoke those words to you knowing you could hear the aching in his voice. “I missed you too..” you couldn’t help as the words fell from your lips.

It was becoming all too much for you to handle. You wanted to break down and cry in front of him. Ran pulled back slightly he saw your eyes fill up with tears ready to be spilled at any moment. You couldn’t let him see you like this, a complete mess. You began to wipe your eyes. You need to compose yourself and get back to your table. Maybe following him was a bad idea. You were so caught up in the moment you needed to leave.  “I have to go.” you said trying to walk away but he grabbed your hand not letting it go. “She is mine…isn’t she…” he asked, looking at you. He had no doubt in his mind it was his daughter. He just wanted to hear the words come from you, wanting to hear that it was indeed his daughter. 

You nodded looking down avoiding eye contact with him. “She is Ran….” Ran took a moment before speaking he took a deep breath and said “We need to talk to you about this.” He spoke in a more concerned tone. “I can’t have you disappearing on me along with my child,” he pulled out a pen and a piece of paper jotting down some notes.You could see his jaw flexing as he was trying to calm his nerves down. “Come to this address tonight at 10:30pm…. I will have Rindou escort you to the address.” Ran said even if you thought about leaving you couldn’t know Rindou was going to wait for you. “Ran I--” as you were trying to speak he cut you off.

“I will let you go back to her now…” Ran stepped to the side with his hands in his pockets as he began to walk away. “I will see you soon.” 

As he began to walk away, his expression changed; he didn't know what to think after all these years. He was torn between glad you were safe but angry to see you with a secret you kept from him. Walking into the lobby he saw Rindou. “What happened?” Rindou followed his brother outside.

As they both exited out the lobby into the brisk cold Ran pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Exhaling the smoke. “I told her to meet me at the penthouse… Can you bring her there before 10:30 pm…” he looked at his brother.

Rindous eye twitch “Look I don't want to get into your messy relationship with ______.” “I’m asking you as a favor from brother to brother… I can’t have her leaving with my kid again  who is also your niece…I need to prepare for this encounter mentally…” Ran took a inhale of the cigarette  a few mins a silence between the brothers as uber arrived a few mins later “Thank you Rin..I owe you one.” “Yeah yeah whatever.” he rolled his eyes seeing his brother get into the uber as they drove off. 

‘shit ..shit…shit.’ you were saying to yourself as you began walking away. Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since the encounter. Making your way to the table, your aunt saw a bit of distress look on your face. She didn’t speak a word until you both went back into the room. 

Putting on a smile for your daughter as you tried to enjoy the rest of dinner with them. As you got back to  the hotel room it was getting close to her bed time. “Baby it's getting late, why don’t you get ready for bed, okay?” you looked down at her daughter. She ran to the room where she had her items. You had your hand on your hips letting out a sigh. You felt the beaming eyes of your aunt looking at you. “What happened?” She asked.

“He saw us… He knows about (D/N)” you spoke nervously as it was getting close to the time Rindou was going to meet up with you. “What did he say?” she asked “he must have said something to you to make you jittery.” “He wants to talk, I know what he wants to talk about.”  You sighed “Well he has every right to know why you left and didn’t tell him about the baby.” her arms crossed against her chest. 

“But aunty I-“ you tried to talk but one of her hands halted your talking. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.. This was bound to happen…if you were so worried you wouldn’t have moved back here. Like I told you when you just had D/N…if you planned on staying away you should have stood back in America and not come back to Tokyo…. Either he is gonna want to get to know her or not it will be up to him. If he does, you will need to work something out with him. You also have to understand if he is with someone else you will have to accept whether you like it or not.” 

She was right. You knew the risk factors of coming back and you needed to accept them. Even if he was with someone else you would  have to not let it interfere if he wanted to be apart of her life.  “I get it… You're right…it’s just….” You couldn't finished sentence because you didn’t know how you felt about Ran right now. You switched your question. “Can you watch D/N?”

“Of course… Why don’t you go see her before you leave okay?” Your aunt spoke calmly. You nodded as you walked to the room. Your daughter was in her nightgown and she was in the large bed. “You look all cozy in that big bed.” you teased her. “Mommy are you going to come to bed now?” your daughter asked. “I’m actually going to go somewhere but I will be back before you wake up, your aunty is going to stay with you till I get back.”  Sitting on the edge of the bed as you ran her fingers through her hair. “Where are you going?” she asked as she held her stuffed lamb.

‘I’m going to meet you dad…’ you wanted to say but you couldn’t. “Just an old friend of mommy’s.” putting a smile on your showing her not to worry you were gonna be okay. “Sweetie.” you cupped her cheeks. “Mommy loves you very much.” giving her the eskimo kisses. “I know mommy I love you a whole bunch too!” she cupped your cheeks back making your slightly giggle. “Get some rest sweetheart.” you kissed her forehead. After tucking her in you grabbed your purse and phone. You exited out of the hotel room entering into the elevator. As the elevator stopped at the lobby, your heart was pounding as you stepped out of the elevator.  “Oi ______.” you heard Rindou’s voice with the familiar unfazed look on his face

‘Geez did they both go through a phase of changing their styles?’ you thought to yourself. Walking towards him. “Rindou, it's been a while.” “Well that's what happens when you disappear for 5 years and you don’t see the people you're used to seeing on a daily basis…” Rindou still with the familiar sarcastic tone as always. 

‘Smartass as always… I guess some things never change….’ you thought to yourself. “Right…right.” you spoke in a low tone. 

“Follow me, the vale is getting the car already.” Rindou began to walk towards the exit, you followed behind him closely. You could tell he didn’t want to be bothered with his brother's love life. You always maintained a good relationship with him because of when you and Ran were dating. But he was doing this for him, and yet if the little girl he saw was his niece he had to compromise. Getting into the car it was awkwardly silent for you both. 

Your mind began to wander looking out the window. You remembered the day you gave birth to her.

~~~~~

You had just given birth a few hours ago, by yourself. Your daughter was sleeping in your arms . You were exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. You could have blamed it on the pain from labor along with the lack of sleep or just pure guilt of doing this by yourself and not having Ran apart of this journey with you. Your bottom lip quivered a bit thinking about wishing he could have been here. She was your whole world now and knowing you had to do everything you could to protect her. She was swaddled in the blanket. You could hear the soft cooing coming from her as she slept. “It's just you and me sweetie…” cradling her in her arms. Pressing your lips softly against her forehead, “I promise to protect you with my life”.

You had a knock on the door “yes?” you called out to the door. “Hello Ms. we are here to get your informations for your daughter's birth certificate.” The admins from the hospital spoke. She was gathering the information from you. “What would be the last name?” she asked.

“Haitani…” you spoke.

“Do you want to add a father on the birth certificate?” “Just curious if I do put his name down will there be any chance of him knowing unless I tell him?” you asked The admin responded “you can always add him but you have no legal obligation to let him know you can always keep to yourself unless you want to collect child support.” “No no I don’t want to do that to him...I would like to add him to her birth certificate.” “What's the fathers name?” “Ran… Haitani.” as you said his name you looked down at your daughter.

~~~~~~~

Rindou was curious about the little girls that had the strong Haitani genes. “What's her name?” his eyes were on the road. “Her name is D/n Haitani.” you spoke in a low tone. The moment hearing his niece's name and her having the last name of him and his brother made him feel relieved yet bothersome. He knew his brother wanted a family, specifically a family with you the moment things became serious in your relationship. Ran had all these ideas planning out his future. Rindou heard every part of it to the point he was becoming annoyed with his brother. But seeing how it made him happy he just listened. When you left all those ideas vanished. His brother wasn’t the same after you left. The amount of blood shed to the extreme over killing someone. ‘Get the fuck a hold of yourself. She is not coming back, she is gone.’  he remembered telling his brother this and something inside Ran made him feel numb. “I want you to know something before seeing Ran…” Rindou gave you a side glance before returning his eyes back to the road. “He has changed since you left…Don’t think he is this sweet guy you knew from the past… Understand he had a difficult time adjusting when you left…” “Rin, look I’m not trying to get back with him. He was the one who wanted to meet up okay?” you spoke to him a bit snippy. Realizing how you must have sounded when he was just telling you information. “I’m sorry I just… I’m nervous, okay I hadn’t seen you brother in a long time. And we are in this predicament right now.. I'm sorry you got dragged into this.” The rest of the car ride was silent until you arrived at the building. “He is on the top floor, the door is down all the way to the left.” He parked the car. When you were getting out Rindou spoke “_____ sorry for earlier…“ he finally made eye contact with you. “It’s okay… I know you care about Ran, you guys are all you have... Thank you for bringing me.” you gave him a soft smile before got out of the car and began to walk into the building.

Ran was looking at his watch and it read  10:25pm. His brother texted him about 10 mins ago saying he dropped you off. He would have thought you would have been up by now. He decided to check and  see if you got lost. When opening the large door he saw you. You were standing there for a good 5 mins anxious to knock on the door. “Did you forget how to knock?” he asked raising his brow.

“Oh um no I just…” your voice trailed off you began to rub her arm. 

“Come in.” he opened the door wider to his penthouse. Walking in your heart was pounding once again. You were trying to control your breathing. Hearing the door closed Ran could tell the anxiety was spilling from you, your eyes avoided his. “Did you want something to drink?” “No it's okay..” your eyes wanted to wander the large penthouse filled with extravagant items. Ran still poured you a drink knowing you needed to relax your nerves a bit in order for you to talk. Bringing the drink towards your way “Here take a seat…” He took a seat at the end of the couch while you sat at the other side. He began to unloosen his tie and unbutton the first two buttons to get more comfortable. You noticed the small hickey that appeared on his neck you didn’t see earlier as it was covered by the collar. Ran noticed you looking at his neck. The intimate moment between him and Ms. Yamaguchi prior to him seeing you. “I think it's time we talk about what happened. But first, what's my little girl's name?” he brought his drink to his lips as he made eye contact with you as he took a drink.

“Her name is D/N… D/n Haitani.” you said. 

He nodded at her name “you gave her my last name… I would have expected you to give her your last name since you left.” “I thought about it but I decided to give her your last name. You are your father.” you looked at your drink swirling it.

He let out a sarcastical chuckle “How kind of you…You gave her my last name but didn’t tell me about my daughter.. Better yet you weren’t planning on telling me it just happened I was there and that’s when I saw you both…” Ran spoke calmly yet you could hear the slight disappointment in his tone. “How old is she?” he asked.

“She is gonna be 5 in two weeks.” you went into your purse pulling her a photo of her. You handed it to Ran. 

Ran looked at the photo of the smiling little girl. His heart dropped seeing how beautiful she was seeing all the features and how strong his genes truly were. “My little girl.” it was hurting him more. This wasn't what he had envisioned in his life. “I missed close to 5 years of her life and her not getting to know her father. Is that fair to her or me?” his smile disappeared. “Ran I get what I did wrong okay?  I’m sorry if that’s what you wanted to hear. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about D/n." You were becoming a bit upset and defensive.

He slightly shook his head. “You don’t get it…You promised to be by my side… and then you were gone.. You broke that promise to me ______…You left while I was gone from our home we shared. Only taking a few items and you up and disappeared on me…Why? Why did you leave someone you supposedly loved?” You stood quiet…. You could hear the bothersome tone in his voice, something you weren’t used to. “I had to do what I thought was best for my daughter…even if it meant leaving someone I deeply loved to protect her. ” you furrowed your brows. 

“Are you saying I wouldn’t have protected you or my daughter?” Ran asked, putting the glass down. He sat closer to the edge of the couch, his feet flat on the ground, his hands clasping between his thighs. He turned his head slightly looking at you. He was slightly offended by your words, he assumed you thought he wouldn’t have fulfilled his duties on protecting you both.

“Ran just listen okay? I brought it up to you many times about how I worried about you. You always seemed to not take my concerns so seriously. Did you ever consider what it made me feel, what you did for a living at the time and how I worried about your safety.” you took a deep breath closing you eyes, you had a crackle in your voice and needed to calm down before you spoke again. “What would have happened when someone wanted revenge because of someone you killed? They would have gone after your loved ones. Me or your daughter. You think those sons of a bitches would have given a damn gunning one of us down. What would have happened if that happened huh? It would have hurt you way more than this…. I couldn’t risk my life or your daughter's life…I understood when being with you and what kinda business you were in but it changed when I became pregnant Ran…” your emotions were coming out a bit more. “ I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I did but understand where I’m coming at the time your girlfriend was carrying your baby…Every single night I was anxious about getting a call from someone saying you were dead because of a bad deal.” Ran remembered you constantly bringing up to him about how you worried about him. Just the last time you worried about him, you were attending to his wounds. He didn’t want you worrying about him at the time. Sometimes he slipped up. “I would have made sure nothing would have happened to you both. I would have protected you both with my life… But I guess you made that choice without talking to me.” Ran could understand your worries but you had to see if from his point of view you didn't have to leave the way you did. “The woman that you're with, who is she?” “My mothers sister… Her and my mother have not been on great terms since I was young. But my mom made a point for me to get to know her. My mother just found out about the D/n she was upset not knowing about her granddaughter.” you place the glass down knowing that was another issue you had to deal with that didn’t involve him. “Ran look…I won’t force you to see D/n if you don’t want to… I get it…I decided to have her she is my responsibility” “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to know my own daughter? You didn’t give me that choice...” he sighed it

You nodded “If you want to see her, we can make an arrangement for you to meet her… It's going to be a new experience for you both and I think it should be taken slow..She is a rather bashful child when you first meet her. She may not open up right away.”

“I see… When do you want to make this arrangement?” he asked.

“We will arrive at the new house tomorrow. You can come over tomorrow and meet her if you want.”  offering him the day.

“I can make that work…” he said. After going over the rest of the detailed planning with Ran he was curious about a few more things. He was used to holding you close to him exchanging kisses between one another. Just seeing how reserved you were right now he couldn't help but ask, “Did you find someone else when you left?” 

“I didn’t have time to date while raising a child. I can see you kept yourself busy though.” you looked at the hickey on his neck once again finishing the last of your drink. Looking at it was bothering you, seeing how fresh it was too. 

“Well this is how you wanted it.” Ran came back with a quick response. “You right, maybe I will have enough time to do that now since I’m here.” you looked at the time on your phone then back at him. 

Ran smirked “right right…” he didn’t find your response amusing. But he couldn’t say anything since you both aren’t together. At one point maybe there was just that small part of him that wanted to grab you and pull you in for a kiss. Yet he couldn’t do it with everything going on and how rocky you both were with one another you both needed time to process this. 

“I should get going. It's getting late and I will see you tomorrow.” You got up from the couch. You began walking to the door. Ran got up right behind you following you to the door, before your hand reaches the door knob. He reached it first, opening the door for you. So many things he wished he could do right now but he was hurt. One of them was to bring you back into his home and not let you go. But seeing how you were reacting to the hickey on his neck it wouldn’t have been a good idea. He still found you attractive and for him to have you as the mother of his child.

“_______” he walked you to the elevator pushing the button.

You looked at him. “Yea?” 

“What does she like?” he asked.

“She likes tea parties, flowers, and dressing up. A typical 4 year old going on 5.” you smiled He had a small smile “I’ll see you both tomorrow.” “See ya tomorrow… also make sure you cover that up before you get there” you pointed to your neck  mimicking the hickey on his. The elevator door opened as you were pressing the button for the lobby. 

Before the door could close Ran kept the door “Is that jealousy I smell on you?” His voice was smooth. 

“Don’t flatter yourself…” you sighed, you wouldn’t admit your jealousy about it. But you couldn’t tell him what not to do, since he was technically a single man. Who had hoes in different area codes. On the other hand you were a single woman and he couldn’t tell you what you couldn’t do either. “I don’t want D/n to ask about it when she meets you tomorrow. I mean you're all about making good impressions right?” His hand released the door, he knew it bothered you. You could be read as an open book by him but it also went the same way around. You knew him like the back of your hand. There were a lot of unsaid things you both didn’t say to one another as you both looked into one another's eyes. There was that gleam of loneliness in his violet eyes because he would be alone once again when you left. Nothing could come out of either of your mouths as the elevator closed and Ran gave you a small smile. “Till tomorrow.” 

You had a small smile,  as the elevator door closed. You were trying to process everything that happened. Your hands ran through your hair taking a deep breath. Memories of you and Ran when you both were together were hitting you all at once. You needed to keep it together till you got back to the hotel. The car ride with Rindou back to the hotel was silent until he said “Ran is going to meet D/n?”

Nodding at his question “yeah he is going to meet her tomorrow. You will meet her soon too.”  you gave a grimace smile. Rindou  analyzed your tone and expression, he knew there was a part of guilt eating you up, along with a mixture of still having feelings for Ran. It was painfully obvious to him. This was between you and Ran with all the underlying feelings for one another he couldn’t get involved in that part. Still he was wondering if his brother would still see the different women he grew accustomed to over the years or if that would stop and possibly rekindle the old flame.  

Arriving back at the hotel “Thank you for the ride Rin.” 

“Your welcome… I’ll see you around.” He spoke. Rindou watches as you enter the hotel. Taking a deep breath he drove off to his place for the night.

Getting into the hotel room. Your aunt was still up at 12:35am. “I’m sorry I got back so late, how was everything?” You asked her. 

“Everything was fine. She was asleep when you left… How did it go?” She asked. 

“He is going to meet her tomorrow…” you looked down picking your nail. 

She lightly smacked your hand “relax okay? I know it’s different but at least you will have some help with her father being in the picture. A little girl should know her father.” 

“Yea…” you wanted to change the subject “did you want to stay here tonight or I can have a taxi take you home?” 

“I’d rather sleep in my own bed,” she said. After about 15 mins the taxi was down stairs. You both said goodbye to one another as she left the hotel room. 

Sitting on the couch, it finally hit you that he was going to meet his daughter tomorrow. The thoughts of what ‘if you didn’t leave’ filled your mind, would you both be married?  Have more kids? Would you both be living the life you dreamt off? You kept thinking of the hurt expression on his face of how much he has missed his daughter, growing up without him knowing. The tears from your eyes  fell to your cheeks, as you began to sob on the couch.  All these tears you locked away for years couldn't  be contained anymore. You tried to repress your feelings, you failed. 

You felt exhausted from the long day. You changed into your pajamas. Walking into the room where your daughter was sleeping. Carefully get into the other side of the bed so as not to disturb your daughter's slumber. 

The following morning your daughter was the one who woke you up. “Mommy, wake up! We get to go to our new house today!” You could hear the excitement in her voice.

Your eyes are a bit swollen but you managed to open them to see the big smile on her face. “Okay okay I’m up.” You slightly chuckle sitting up in the bed.  It took about an hour and a half for you to both get ready to leave the hotel. It would take an additional 25 mins to get to the home you bought. This would be the place you both would call home now. Entering the home you saw all your furniture from your prior home there. It was more than enough room for you and your daughter. You saw the excitement in her eyes as she ran up stairs to see her room. You could hear the exciting squeal coming from upstairs from her.

Not even 5 mins of being in the home you heard the doorbell ring. He was here already, walking to the door. You took a deep breath opening it to find Ran there. “Good morning.” He had his signature smile on his face and in his hand were two bouquets of flowers. One of them was smaller than the other.

Tagging: @pjmo-ri-ka-wa @rindougf @inupiluv @shycreatorsandwich @awkwardaardvarkforever @the-haitani-baton @bontensbabygirl @thebrownemo @satanlovesusall666 @galactict3a @ratlovecat @niko-ash

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#ran haitani #ran x reader #tokyo rev #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #Tokyo Revengers Telenovela #Secrets Kept From him Series #Chapter 2: Uncovered Secrets #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokrev #tokyo revengers x y/n

[daisyvisions]

✦ Day 19 - Face F*cking

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: academic rival!Changmin x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.8K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), will consider this a dark fic, face fucking, blowjob, blackmail (sexual favor - don't read if triggering) , mean!changmin, slight fingering and mentions of it, slight handjob and ball massaging, dacryphilia?, some graphic descriptions, names used (sweetheart, whore, slut, good girl - wow that's the whole quad), a bunch of swearing, reader is basically being used here, let me know if I missed any more! Proofread once, will edit later if needed.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Did not expect how this one turned out if I’m completely honest, but here you go! This was fun to write, different tone than what I usually do! Fun fact, story was based on this little Tumblr game I did long time ago.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦

“Love me or hate me, both are in my favour.”

A picture quote you mindlessly scrolled pass as you were on your phone taking a break from a paper that was due at midnight. It’s not that you procrastinated this specific essay. In fact, you could even do it in your sleep. That’s just how fast your brilliant brain works.

Today just seemed like any other normal day. Wake up, go to school, come back home, the usual routine. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. But not even your brain could conjure up the events that were about to unfold in three… two… one…

Ding dong.

You looked up from your phone, eyebrows knitting together in confusion from the sound of your front door ringing. Who could it possibly be? You didn’t plan any hangouts with friends nor did you order any takeout for dinner. You think for a moment to check if you had any deliveries coming in-

Ding dong.

You got up from your chair and placed your phone down on the desk to answer the door. As soon as you swing it open your eyes slowly look up to meet another pair of eyes you were definitely not expecting to see at all.

His figure leaning against the doorframe like the men you read in your books. But only this time, you wanted to punch him.

“Hey sweetheart. Missed me?” He smirks down at you.

“Changmin? What the hell are you doing here?” You question.

“I could ask myself the same thing-” He suddenly walks into your hallway uninvited. You scoff at his rudeness (not that you were surprised, he’s always like this with you anyway.)

“Cozy-” His eyes survey the room. “-didn’t expect you to live in a place like this especially with that icy attitude of yours.” He turns his heel to face you, you roll your eyes as you close the door and walk towards him, meeting in the middle of your living room.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“No need to get aggressive, just here to collect that favor you owe me.”

“Favor? I don't owe you any favors what the hell are you talking about?” Your patience wearing thin as his words dance around you instead of getting straight to the point.

“Oh… you don't remember?” His eyes gleam with a hint of mischief. “Let me refresh your memory then-” He turns his back to you as he walks towards the couch and plops himself down, instantly manspreading and getting comfy as if were his own home.

“If I can remember correctly, you owe me a favor from helping ward off that jackass during Younghoon’s party. Grabbing my arm and pretending I was your boyfriend so that he could fuck off. Ringing any bells?”

“Yeah, and I thanked you for it-”

“No no no. You didn’t thank me.” He interrupts you. “You said ‘Never doing this again but I owe you one.’”

“That counts as a thank you-”

“C’mon now sweetheart. You’re smarter than that.” His black orbs staring you down, slowly making you feel unsettled. He suddenly gets up from his seat and walks towards you like a predator, slowly walking you backwards until your back hits the wall.

“Enough stalling. I’m here to cash in my favor now.” His hand resting at the side of your head.

“W-what did you have in mind?” Your voice slightly shaking. His other hands lifts to hold your chin before the corner of his lips slowly curl upward.

“On your knees…”

“I’m sorry?” Your eyes widen. Did he just-

“Are we speaking two languages? On your knees. Or else…”

“Or else what?” You try to play it cool and hide the fear coursing through your veins.

Suddenly, Changmin pulls out his phone, plays the video in his gallery, and shows it to you. You were like a deer caught in the headlights as soon as you saw the figure moving through the tiny screen. Said figure was moaning and playing with themselves like some kind of homemade porn.

It was you. It was a video of you touching yourself.

“Give that to me!” You try to reach for his phone, but Changmin already anticipated your moves by holding the phone high up beyond your reach.

“Nuh-uh. I didn't say you could touch my phone now did I?”

“Where the fuck did you get that?” Panic and anger radiating from your body.

“I have my ways.” He smiled at you as if he surprised a friend at their birthday. But this was not a gift at all.

“That was for my ex’s eyes only. How. Did. You. Get. It?” You attempt to reach for phone once again.

“Well, he's not the smartest of the bunch. Seriously you dated that idiot? Expected more from you.” He says with a disappointed tone.

“Changmin this isn’t funny. Delete that NOW!” You demand him.

“No can do sweetheart. Grant me my favor and I’ll consider. If you don’t, this hot as fuck video will be played in the auditorium for everyone to see. How will the whole school think of their precious little valedictorian now?”

As you look into his eyes, you could already tell he’s not playing around. You would know this, you see that look every time he would try to win against you. And you can’t put your whole reputation down the line. Not like this.

You gulp down the saliva in your throat and let out probably the biggest sigh of defeat you’ve ever uttered your life. You pulled the hair tie out that was on your wrist and hastily tied your hair as you sink down to your knees, looking up at him with the face of disgust.

“Such a good girl. Was that so hard?” He coos at you. “Now, get to it before I change my mind.”

You hesitate for a moment before you reach out your hand to touch his bulge. Your eyes widen in surprise and confusion as soon as you touch his already hard member.

“But you’re alrea-”

“What? You think I didn’t already touch myself watching your video?” He says this like it’s common knowledge. “Needed something to work with. And trust me, it fucking worked.” He smirked down at you.

“You’re disgusting.” You grimace at him.

“And you’re taking way too slow.” Changmin unbuckles his pants and instantly pulls out his cock from his boxers.

If anyone told you your rival’s dick was rock hard right in front of your face, you would’ve vomited. But here you are, in this exact scenario. His cock flushed pink with a hot mushroom tip oozing out with what you probably thought was the most delicious pearls of precum you’ve ever seen.

“If you want this done quick, you better listen to what I say got it?” He raises his eyebrow. You nod your head in response.

“Good. Now kiss it.” You immediately hold his length in your hand and close your eyes before giving the tip a light peck, already tasting him on your lips. You give another peck to his tip before kissing the under side of his cock. Planting each kiss gently but firm at the same time.

“Fuck that’s it. Keep kissing my cock.” Changmin hisses at the feeling of your soft lips. His hand resting on the wall the balance himself. He groans suddenly when he feels your other hand massaging his balls as you continue to leave hot kisses on him.

“You’re such a little tease you know that? That’s what I’ve always liked about you. Getting me so riled up all the time just wanna fuck the brat out of you.” He mumbles as he watches you.

You’re not gonna lie, hearing him dirty talk like that sends your core throbbing like a bitch in heat. You keep kissing his cock until you’re suddenly licking it, practically making out with it at this point.

And somehow you don’t even realize that you’ve stopped massaging his balls just to snake your hand under your skirt to rub little circles on your sensitive clit, trying to relieve the ache down there.

This action doesn’t go unnoticed by Changmin however, making him smile from ear to ear at the sight beneath him.

“Touching yourself now are we? You were always a selfish one.” He tuts.

“But that’s alright. I’ll allow it. Just thank me. Say it-”

You pause kissing his member to look up at him with a raised eyebrow, replacing it with your hand jerking him off.

“What?” You slightly tilt your head to the side

“Go ahead sweetheart…Thank me.” He holds your face with his free hand and places the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip.

“Thank me. Like the dirty little whore you are.” You scoff. Of all things, he’s still looking for that? His eyes go wide at your response.

“No? Rather take my cock instead of saying two simple words?” He pulls your bottom lip with his fingers, making you whimper from the slight tug.

“If you aren’t gonna thank me, then might as well treat you like a fucking slut.” As soon as Changmin says this he swats your hand away from his cock and grabs it firmly and squeezes your cheeks to open your mouth with is other hand and shoves his whole length inside.

Before you even have the time to process what’s going on, both his hands are grabbing your face as he fucks himself in your mouth.

Gluck gluck gluck.

That’s all the sounds you can hear ringing in your ears as Changmin groans in pleasure. He fucks your mouth with raw aggression, you’re sure your throat’s gonna bruise after this from how his whole length goes in and out. He’s bigger than you anticipated, making you slightly gag as small tears from fall from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, especially when you’re like this.” He continues to fuck himself into your mouth. The way he manhandles your face as he quickens his thrusts has you getting wetter by the second.

And without warning he instantly shoots his hot load down your throat as his hips stutter. Swallowing the warm salty liquid as it infiltrates your taste buds… and it’s intoxicating.

You cough out and try to catch your breath as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, tucking it back inside his pants before letting out a sigh of relief.

“Such a good girl.” He looks down at you with a post orgasm haze in his eyes before zipping his pants up and walking towards the front door. Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

“W-where are you going?” Your raspy voice calls out to him.

“You didn't think I was gonna stay did you?” He turns the knob and pulls the door open.

Before he sets a foot out of the door he looks back at you over his shoulder and smiles one last time,

“You really should've just said ‘thank you’ instead…”

#deoboyznet #ji changmin #changmin smut #tbz smut #tbz fics #tbz scenarios #tbz #tbz hard hours #the boyz drabbles #the boyz hard hours #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #kpop smut #the boyz fanfic

[damianwayne0]

In the Drawer ||

Pairings : Damian Wayne x reader

Summary : Damian and Y/n had been dating for 3 years . Damian is 19 and reader is also 19

After a long eventful mission, Bruce invited the justice league and the titians in the manor for a well deserved break. Everyone was just chilling since it was stormy outside.

Beast boy, excited : let's play a game!

Everyone : Yes let's play a game

Dick , hopefully: Are u also playing Damian?

Damian: I don't want to play with you all imbeciles.

Tim, rolling his eyes: whatever

Dick : please Dami it will be fun!

Damian: no-

Dick, ✨giving his puppy eyes✨ : And you owe me a favor

Damian, irritated : Fine.

" So what game are we playing ?" says Starfire .

"oh! oh! I know! I know! Truth and dare lets play it" says beast boy with an mischievous grin.

Jason took a bottle and spinned it , it landed on Dick.

Jason : Truth or Dare?

Dick : tru-th

" Were you the one who put fart spray in to the batmobile and blamed replacement for it?" Says Jason smirking know it was really dick.

"ye-s"says dick as he looks at Tim and Tim looks back at him with an betrayed look.

"I am sorry Timmy" says dick feeling a lil guilty.

" hahaha dude ! You really did that to batman ? That's so cool! " Says beast boy in disbelief.

" oh, that's why you were smelling so bad that day?" says Starfire with an disgusted look on her face.

"yeah " says dick with an small nervous laugh.

"By any chance was it also you who put glitter all over my bag?" Says Damian glaring at dick. He would have forgotten about that incident, if the gift he bought for you wasn't cover in glitter . And yeah you thought it was still cute regardless of the glittery mess it had become.

"uhhh" says dick nervously knowing he is screwed.

"you- " says Damian as his chasing dick with an fork begins and everyone was laughing at the sight.

After Damian literally hunted down dick , they came back and sat down , This time Tim spinned the bottle and it landed on Starfire.

" Truth or Dare Starfire?" Says Tim , smirking.

Then on then dick knows he's screwed.

"uhh dare?" Says Starfire hesitating a bit.

" ha! Don't kiss dick for a week " says Tim knowing he got his revenge.

Dick with an betrayed just stares at him . While he just shrugs.

Damian is a tiny bit impressed but he won't admit it .

Raven , impressed says " hmm he can't handle that one .

"Damn replacement you got him" says Jason to Tim while looking at dick who now has a defeated look on his face.

" hahah look at his face " says Beast boy pointing at dick, who just glares at him.

" fine, no kisses for a week I see" says Starfire giggling a bit.

Now its dick turn to spin it and it's lands on Damian.

"truth or dare Dami?" Says dick pressing his lips together so he wouldn't laugh.

"Truth." Says , Damian glaring at dick.

"How many girls have asked you out ?" Says dick already praying for his life .

To everyones suprise Damian begins to count and count and count not stopping.

"Damn dude we understood " says beast boy a shocked and maybe a tiny bit jealous.

" I don't know, I never counted" says Damian shrugging.

" yeah because who could even ask you out". Says Tim smirking.

Damian glared at Tim and Tim glared back.

" okay enough of your staring competition. It's my turn now" says Jason as he spins the bottle and it again lands on Damian.

" Seriously I got demon brat?" Says Jason disappointed.

" whatever just ask already" says Damian rolling his eyes.

" Fine , Fine demon brat. Truth or Dare?" Says Jason.

"Truth" says Damian as he sighs.

" do you hate replacement?" Says Jason with an smug

"I don't hate him but I would pull off his life support to charge my phone" says Damian.

Everyone seems shocked then they all crack up .

"Damn replacement got roasted by the gremlin"says Jason rolling on the floor while holding his stomach from laughing.

"Good one Dami" says dick out of breath from all laughing.

Tim just looks as if he saw a ghost. After everyone calmed down,they all say down and it's was Starfires turn and the bottle landed on raven.

"Truth or Dare raven?" Says Starfire smiling.

"umm dare?" Says raven hesitating .

Everyone than continuous to play. After sometime the justice league comes up from batcave to see the young heros playing. After the game ends. Damian goes into his room for sometime.

Damian than calls you and almost instantly you pick up.

"beloved, I miss you" says Damian wanting to be with her. It's not like he doesn't want to spend time with his family and friends but with you he finds peace that he cannot describe.

"My love, I miss you too but what happened?" Says Y/n worrying that something might happen to the love of her life.

"Nothing, beloved I am just missing you that's it" Damian sighs .

"I wish we could meet but this storm is not stopping anytime soon"

"you're right , beloved"

" I have a little surprise for you when you come back" you say seductively. You were waiting for him for so long because of that mission. You can't lie that you didn't miss his touch, his kisses during your time apart.

" beloved, you really love to make me suffer" Damian frowns

"hehe be patient my love, you will get your reward don't worry. Byeee love ya" and then you cut the call before he would say anything.

Damian heart beating so fast that it could beat the flash in a race . He than heard his brothers calling him for dinner. He goes down but he can't stop thinking about his reward that you were talking about. But he shook it up as his family and friends were watching him.

At the dinner table:

Everyone was seated. When Tim asked Damian if he had the cards game he took from Tim.

" They are in my room , in one of the drawers" says Damian, stabbing his vegetable with fork.

Tim than gets up to go to Damians room.

"So , Bruce did you know someone asked Damian out yesterday?* Says Jason smirking at Damian.

" oh I see , I mean he is a charming boy" says Bruce smiling.

Jon who just arrived flying says : ohhh that girl ? Damian told me about her. Apparently she tried to kiss him but he pushed her off ."

Bruce chokes on the food and Damian drops his fork due to shock and Jason just raises an eyebrow and well dick ,well he is cheering like those cheerleaders as Starfire tries to calm him down.

"He is a charming boy" says Clark repeating Bruce words.

Damian than speaks up.

"she was the daughter of Logan family and shes been trying to get my attention but I was putting her off"

Logan family are one of business partners of Bruce.

"hmm her mother tried the same" says Bruce as his scowls ,remembering those stupid attempts to get his attention.

Dick: where is Timmy? He certainly is taking his time.

Just as he said that Tim came running in and sat down on his seat. After sitting down Tim stares at Damian.

"what are you looking at imbecile?" Says Damian raising an eyebrow at Tim.

Tim with an straight face than says " Are You a virgin?"

Bruce for the second time chokes on his food. Jason starts laughing and dick is just horrid. Clark passes water to Bruce.

"Drake ,what actual heck!?"says Damian standing up .

"I mean , can you than explain why is there two packs of condoms in your drawer?" Says Tim as he puts up those boxes up in the air.

"TWO BOXES!?" says Jason

"CONDOMS!?"says Dick

"I don't think that's any of your business" says Damian. He was quite irritated but mostly embarrassed.

Damian than gets up and goes to his room

"Timmy, I don't think you should've done that"says Dick

"yeah dude"says. Beastboy

"I guess but what if he has a girlfriend?" Says Tim

"Who's gonna like that brat?"says Jason

The next day ,after the teen titan and the justice league left. Damian didn't come down for the whole day .

In Damians room

"ahahahahahahaha"

"Beloved, stop now"

"ahahaha I can't- I swear I can't-"

"seriously?"

"ok ok fine . But really? They saw it?" Pressing your lips together to try to not laugh.

"yeah and now I don't know what to do".says Damian,still irritated and somewhat angry.

"it's okay my love. That doesn't really matter"

"hmm but are you gonna wear that green one or the black one ?"

"...... really?"

"what?"

" perv" You could literally hear the mischievousness in his voice.

"Oh come on "

"Nope , you gonna have to find out"

"Fine "

"Damian, you know, we have been dating for a long time now"

"Yes , beloved I understand what you're trying to say.And I also know it's time"

"really!?", You have been dieing to meet his family for a quite time now, and he already met your family so it's only fair if you meet his.

"Yeah, I also been thinking about this. And I can't imagine my life without you anymore"

"Me too , Damian"

#damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #robin #batfam #dc #batfamily #batboys #dick grayson #jason todd #damian al ghul #nightwing #redrobin #red hood #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne fanfic #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne x female reader #batman family #teen titans #superman #batman #bruce wayne #timdrake #starfire #tim drake #damian wayne x reader fluff #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you

[worksby-d]

Pairing: dilf!Andy Barber x babysitter!Reader

Summary: Andy offers to drive you to a halloween party after babysitting for him, but you get distracted before you can get there.

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her 20s), Andy’s imaginary younger kid that I made up to make the plot work, car sex, blowjob, fingering, creampie, 18+

Word count: ~2,000

a/n: Changed this prompt to be for Andy at the last minute because I miss him soooo much 😣💕 I’m sorry to the Ari girlies. I’ll make it up to you, I promise 🫶

Part Two

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

Skipping down the steps, you're in your own world as you quickly gather your jacket and shove the rest of your clothes into your bag, heading toward the kitchen to wait patiently for Andy and Jacob to get home.

Andy had texted you earlier today, asking a last minute favor of you to watch his youngest daughter while he and Jacob had a father-son evening. It wasn't like the Barbers to have not asked weeks in advance, but they're like a second family to you at this point, so you couldn't say no. But you do have plans to get to once those two are finally back.

Sending Andy a quick text, politely asking for an ETA since he wasn't sure before, you jump hearing his phone ding from just a couple feet away.

“Never mind,” you chuckle, walking into the room and seeing them both standing there already. “Sorry, I didn't hear you guys come in.”

“That's alright,” he laughs. If you aren't mistaken, you swear he does a double take after his eyes land on you. And you kind of hope that’s the case for a different reason, but he's probably just trying to decipher your costume. “We just got back. Figured you were putting the princess to bed, but maybe you were playing dress up..?”

“Oh, no,” you giggle. You know he's joking as he gestures to your outfit – a white skirt, white cropped tank top with thigh high tights, white heels, and a halo on your head to match. “I have a Halloween party to get to, so I was getting ready since she fell asleep early.”

“I didn't know you had plans tonight, I'm sorry–”

“No, it's okay.” You can’t let him apologize. He didn't force you to say yes. “I'm always happy to help out. I have a friend coming to pick me up though, so I'm just gonna hang out a while longer if that’s okay. This is kind of out of their way.”

“Well… Tell them they're off the hook.” Your confusion must be evident. “I can give you a ride,” he explains. “Yeah, Jacob’s here now, so I can leave for a bit, no problem.”

“You don't have to–”

“It's the least I can do.”

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

It's a quiet ride at first. You spend the first couple minutes trying to come up with some small talk. You've always talked to his wife more than you have to him, so you're not coming up with much.

As if he can read your mind, he takes it upon himself to break the silence.

“Laurie and I separated.”

Is this his idea of small talk?

You have kind of been wondering though since it was Andy who contacted you for once and since she wasn't at the house when you got there. Plus, you wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but you noticed his missing wedding ring.

“Just felt like I owed you an explanation for the last minute need for a babysitter today. It's my weekend with the kids, but I didn't want to let Jake down, so…”

Glancing at him beside you, there's a sadness in his eyes–very clear as they're lit up under each street light you pass–and you wish there was something you could do for him.

You're not sure what to say honestly. Your initial reaction is scoffing an astonished, “her loss,” but you figure that's probably the wrong thing.

“Oh…” You let your solemn tone fill the quiet for a second. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

You don't leave it at that though, instead punctuating your words with a daring hand resting on his leg.

His heart races the same as yours at the contact – But while yours does so out of nerves awaiting his reaction, his is a result of not having felt such a gentle touch in so long.

As your touch lingers, he has to resist his impulse to drop a hand from the wheel and take yours in his.

For fear of misreading your movement, he just grips the steering wheel tighter, trying his best to not dwell on what’s probably nothing.

You watch as he shifts slightly in his seat, gauging his reaction to your subtle advance. When he doesn't pull completely away or ask what you're doing, you assume you're in the clear.

Seeing how far he'll let you go, you slowly move your hand higher up his leg, gently brushing your fingers along his inner thigh.

He's trying to keep his composure, but you hear the hitch in his breathing as your touch gets closer to where he's secretly wishing it would go.

In an instant, he’s slowing the car down, and you smirk to yourself as he veers to pull over on the side of the road.

It's a dark one, nearly silent save the rustling of what's left for leaves on the trees as a few gusts of wind blow by.

He lets out a deep sigh when you take your hand away from him, finally looking toward you to search for any signs that he's gotten the wrong idea. But you're unbuckling your seat belt and leaning over to undo his too.

“You look so sad,” you whisper. “I can make you feel better.”

Your eyes meet his as you move closer to him–as close as the center console separating you will allow anyway.

“Yeah?” His voice is low as he watches you kneel on your seat, putting a hand back on his leg to hold yourself up.

“Uh-huh,” you hum, putting an end to his anticipation as your hand slides over the crotch of his jeans, palming against his cock. “If it's okay with you…”

His head falls back against his seat, a groan escaping his lips, when your fingers work to undo his belt and move his pants out of the way, ghosting over his hard dick.

“Go ahead and show me, pretty girl.”

He moves his seat farther back so you can comfortably take up the space between himself and the wheel. You can't contain yourself, eagerly replacing your hand with your mouth, taking as much of him as you can before softly gagging.

“Oh, fuck.” A breath gets caught in his throat. One of his hands gathers any hair from falling on your face, while the other rests on your upper back to keep you down. “You're good at that.”

Lifting your head, you let out a small laugh before sinking your mouth back down on him. Hearing him pant above you, you can't help but squeeze your thighs together in attempt of some sort of relief, no room to slip your own hand between your legs.

Andy catches on though, his leather seat squeaking each time you squirm. His hand on your back glides down to your ass, finding that your skirt is conveniently short enough to just flip up and pull your thong aside.

Deft fingers expertly find your clit, already slick from your dripping arousal.

He tsks, “All this just from sucking my cock, babygirl?”

Your whimper quickly turns into a moan as he pushes a finger into your sopping pussy, legs already trembling from the sudden intrusion.

“You're a sensitive one,” he chuckles.

You have to come up for air for a second, resting your cheek against his body while your hand takes over, slowly stroking his hard cock.

“Andy–” Your voice trails off, all words forgotten as he continues thrusting a second finger into you.

“Keep going, angel. I've got you.”

Taking him back in your mouth, nothing but lewd noises fill the car. An involuntary thrust of his hips makes you gag again.

With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you have to push off of him for a breath again. And as tempting as it is for him to fill your pretty mouth, he doesn't force you back down this time.

He pulls his hand from between your legs, eliciting a whine from you as he kindly smoothes your skirt back into place.

You have to sit up slowly, but once you're steady, you swiftly clamber into his lap, straddling your legs on either side of his.

“Woah, eager,” he teases, putting his hands on your hips to support you. He has to reach up to remove the halo from your head though so it doesn't get ruined pressed against the roof of the car. “I usually take my time with people I like.”

Attempting to ignore the heat that flushes across your face following his words, you let out a shy laugh. He can't help but notice how breathtaking you look – the glittery makeup on your eyelids and cheeks reflecting the bright moonlight peeking into the dark vehicle.

“My friends will wonder where I am.”

“So…” He smirks. “Another time then?”

“Another time,” you nod, breathless again as you lift up and begin sinking down on his cock.

“Shit–”

“Andy–”

You sigh in unison.

Feeling a breeze across your damp forehead, you’re reminded of the windows you kept cracked for air. You drop your face to his neck to muffle your moans, afraid of being too loud.

It doesn't take long for you both to teeter on the edge of your highs after working each other up. He can feel your legs quivering against his own as you continue to ride him.

“Can feel you're close,” he grunts, gripping your hips to help you move.

You cry out, quickly grazing your teeth against his neck to quiet yourself as he fucks you deeper, clit bumping against his pelvis each time you come down.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Give it to me. I wanna feel you cum.”

He's got you in the palm of his hand at this point, you'd do anything for him. Your orgasm washes over you as an intense heat flooding your body. It leaves you trembling in his arms, biting down where his neck meets his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming his name.

“That’s it,” he breathes, working you through it as he chases his own release now. “Good girl. ‘m right there with you. Gonna leave you full of me for the–for the rest of the night.” He stumbles over his words. “No one will suspect a thing from the girl dressed like an a–angel.”

“Please,” you choke out, wanting, needing, to feel him. “Andy–”

Your pleas are cut off by a low growl in your ear and his arms tightening around you to keep you still as his cock twitches, release spilling deep inside you.

Letting out a shuddering breath, your body goes lax against him. The rise and fall of his chest as he works to steady his breathing is the only thing you can feel for a few moments.

“You with me, Y/N?” He chuckles, albeit still a little out of breath, as he checks on you.

“I think so,” you laugh and let out a sigh before finally lifting yourself off of him.

You instantly feel his cum dripping out of you, but he's a man who sticks to his word–quick to push it back in with two fingers before adjusting your panties back into place.

Your cheeks burn and you avert your eyes from his, whimpering at the obscene act. But your eyes fall on his neck, littered with evident bite marks outlined by your shimmery lip gloss.

“There's glitter everywhere,” you giggle, bringing your thumb up to try to wipe some off of his skin and his t-shirt. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, don't worry about it.” He shrugs, but tries to get some that's misplaced off your face too though. “Let's get you to that party, sweetheart.”

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #andy barber imagine #dest's kinktober

[starsomens]

Primal

A/N: I was looking around for a prompt generator and I had found one specifically for NSFW prompts and this one prompt caught my eye and HAD to write it so please enjoy 😘. Here’s the link to the generator

Warnings: exhibitionism!, not proofread. outdoor(ish) sex, public(ish) sex, getting caught (kind of) PIV sex, unprotected (WRAP IT!),oral (female), dirty talk, marking, slight degradation, Noah x Y/N with slight x Nick Folio, kind of threesome to an extent (??), Noah is aware of it (sort of), this is a work of FICTION! proceed caution!!

Prompt: Exhibitionism. While out in the wilderness with friends, family, or a tour group, Noah and Y/N fuck in their tent, getting off on the idea that someone could possibly hear them. Bonus points for a member of their party catching them and watching them or listening to them, but not saying a thing.

The air was fresh and crisp, the scenery was gorgeous, and you could understand why so many people loved camping and hiking. There was so much peace and tranquility. Birds of all colors and sizes would fly and chirp as you pass them by. No schedules, no deadlines, no tour bus, just time to relax. That mixed friends and your boyfriend made it all better.

It was the end of the tour and you all thought having some time out together would be a great time to unwind. Noah new a hiking trail that also had some great camping spots. Noah, you, Jolly, Folio and Nick all headed there for the weekend staring from Friday and you'd leave by Sunday afternoon.

"Guys look back," you call as you snap a picture on your polaroid. You snapped a great picture of them on the trail with a view of thick trees behind them, and some genuine smiles

"Hey, Y/N where are your bags?" Jolly asked tilting his head to the side

"I got it," Noah said holding it up with a bit of a shake. Most of you things were in one big back together while yours had supplies. Soap, extra undies, the battery pack, medicine, the emergency stuff.

"He didn't let me take it for myself, even when I asked if he wanted a break and he said-"

"No, cause we're almost there" he said coming up to a small hill and at the bottom was the campsite. Luckily the park that offered them had areas that can be reserved for people, while still giving space and privacy to others who might be camping. The area was a bit higher than where the lake was and the view was gorgeous! You had gotten there early just so you could set the tents up and hopefully have a swim.

You and Noah had brought a tent to share while Jolly had set his up, Folio need some help with his. He somehow was setting it up correctly....but inside out....

Nick secured any food you brought to be sure of bears not finding it. For now it'll be in a small safe provided by the park until you were ready to eat. The sun had come to it's peak at around 2:30 pm and you were all ready to have some fun! Of course you nearly forced them all to use sunblock before even leaving the camp area. While everyone was just changing in the open! You quickly changed inside the privacy of your tent with Noah waiting outside

"hey babe," he called

"Yeah? I'm almost done!" You answered

"Oh you're fine was just gonna say I can see the shadow of your boobs" he smirks to himself, you give a small shriek and fold into a ball trying to cover yourself "Babe, babe I'm playing! You're fine" he chuckled

As you unzip the tent you groan "Noah! Can you at least help me tie the top?" you look up at him as if he now owed you the favor for pulling that stunt

"Of course princess" you turn around and hold the pieces in place while he tied it. You could see the guys getting a head start, Noah most likely telling them you’d catch up. After he was done tying up the strings he kissed the nape of your neck

“I love this one on you babe, you look great” he smiles at you as you turn to him and you peck the bottom of his chin

"Come on let's get in the water!" you take his hand and lead him to the rope that hung from the tree that leaned over the lake. Noah took the first swing and landed with a splash into the water below. You catch the rope and hold it to your chest, taking a look at the jump you'd take. The guys were in the water encouraging you to come down

"Come on Y/N, Its just a swing! You'll get down here in 5 seconds flat!" Folio tried to make it seem less intimidating.

"Come on Y/N, you live with a fucking tree, you can handle this!" Jolly calls pointing to Noah

"Just swing down Y/N, I'm right here come on!" Noah said opening his arms to you. You take in a deep breath, hold it and run off the ledge holding on to the rope and letting go just a few feet from Noah. The cool water surrounded you as you swam up to the surface, if you weren't awake before, you were now

The guy cheered and clapped for you as if you were a performing diver for the Olympics "Nice job facing your fears Y/N"

"hey I wasn't scared!" you laugh splashing Nick. Noah coming up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist. You had he was going to be romantic and hold you in the water....but you were wring. Suddenly he flips you over his head and back into the water once. again.

"NOAH! Ugh I'm get you for that!" you smack his shoulder

"Awwhhh baby I'm sowwwyyyy" he said almost mockingly

This was exactly what you all needed after tour. Just relaxation, and fun. After about an hour in the lake Folio had gotten out to start some fishing, and Nick had started on some food. You and Noah sat down under the tree. You head laid on his shoulder as his hands played with yours. Your chin rests on his shoulder as you admire his features. His beautiful skin with some freckles just underneath his eyes, his sharp jawline and beautiful nose. Those deep dark eyes you love to lose yourself in, and of course that smile. That smile was what did it for you then and still does it for you now.

“What are you looking at pretty girl?” He asked you with a smirk finally catching you

“I’m looking at a pretty boy” you answer with eyes full of love

“Is that so?” He asked twisting his body to face you more “well, can this pretty boy kiss the pretty girl?” He asked

"of course your can" you close your eyes and lose yourself in the feeling of his lips on yours. His hand cups your jaw and holds you deeper in the kiss. the leaves sing in the wind as the breeze lifts your hair. When he pulls away he pecks your nose

"Did I ever tell you, that you're gorgeous as hell?"

"I think I may have heard that once or twice" you smile feeling your cheeks burn from the blush that crept to the flesh.

He leans down to your ear "you're also the reason my pants are so tight now" you furrow your brows in confusion and when you look down you see the slight tent forming in his pants

"Noah...really? Out here? What did it for you?" you ask trying to hide your giggle

"Well you tell me," he said looking around "I'm here with my sexy girl wearing a bikini that only makes her hotter, and I'm really debating on taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree"

You could feel yourself ache just a bit at the thought of having sex, out camping of all places! Maybe if you didn't have your friends and his band members here you would have considered it.

"Well as much as I'd love that, maybe we can tomorrow when they go on a trail hm?" he pat his chest "How's that sound?"

"We'll see baby, come on let's get some food" he said helping you up and adjusting his situation before taking your hand and walking to the food that was being cooked.

...

As the night came, you all changed out of your wet clothes and gathered by the fire. The food was amazing! Of course, you and Nick had prepped them before packing and they came out perfect for the trip. The later it got the more beautiful and clear the stars became. Noah's arm was around your shoulder as your fingers linked together. Your lay a kiss to his hand and he returns it to your head

"Ugghhh the love birds are at it again" Folio groans, teasing you both

"Don't be jealous Nick! We can find you a nice nature girl out here" Jolly shoots back

"hey! I'd sweep her off your feet for your information" he defended with a confident smile

"I'm sure you would Nick," you answer "How about we get some rest to get a good start tomorrow? I don't know about you but that food has me sleepy" you said stretching

"I'm already ahead of you" Nick said getting up and diving into his tent, ready to get some sleep. Luckily since the are is meant for camping, the floor was pretty flat and clear of twigs, roots or anything sharp. The fire was at a safe distance to keep on for the night to avoid the area getting too cold. You bid each other good night and go into you own tents. Noah shuts yours tent, with enough room for some ventilation. You had both gotten a double sleeping bag just so you didn't have to be apart, plus you still wanted cuddles.

You both climb in and snuggle into each other. Your head on his chest, and your leg was over his hip, the best and most convenient position for you both since Noah tends to sleep on his back more often then you.

"Good night princess" he squeezed you tights and kissed the center of your forehead. "I hope snakes don't crawl in here-"

"Noah! Stoooppp" he giggles and rests his chin on your head for the night

. .. ... An hour must have passed by now and you still couldn't sleep! You turned around so your back was facing your boyfriend but you couldn't get the conversation from early out of your head. The idea of you both having sex, out here, trying to keep quiet, the risk the passion. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter with just the thought of it. You couldn't help but rub your thighs together to get some kind of relief from the ache between your legs. You had accidentally bumped into Noah with your ass 1 or 2 times. Luckily, he hadn't booked enough or make a move to think that he may have.

At this point, you were just feeling desperate and wanted to feel release. Do you lift your head just a bit to see or hear if anyone else was awake. luckily, it seemed as if you were the only 1 for now. You cautiously call to your boyfriend to see if he was awake

You cautiously call to your boyfriend to see if he was awake "noah!" you quietly yell "are you awake?"

A few seconds passing you thought that maybe he really was asleep, but then he answered you and realized that he in fact was also awake

"of course I am with the way you're rubbing your ass against me" he whispered " If I didn't know any better, I'd say that my little slut is feeling needy" He whispered closer to your ear, feeling his hot breath against your skin. his large hand grazes over your waist and onto your stomach. finding his way under your shirt and up to your bare breast, where he gave a slight squeeze.

"mmm Noah" you whine trying to keep your noise to a minimum.

"shh shh shh, careful princess, we don't want the others to wake up do we?" he shushes you scooting closer to you until his hard cock was against your ass. His hips grind up against you, even if it wasn't direct contact it felt so good, you wanted more and you wanted him.

You flip around and your lips instantly lock in a kiss, his hand brings your leg over his hip. You grind against him finally getting sensation through the thin fabric of your shorts. He swiftly flips you on to your back and kisses along your neck, each kiss searing into your skin, your heart racing and anticipating what was to come next.

"Noah please..I need-"

"Shh princess, I gotchu" he hushed you as he sat back on his knees and pulls down your bottoms and tosses them to the side. His hands spread your knees open for him to see the wet print on the center of those cute blue panties he loves. He lifts your but on to his lap and removes the last barrier between him and your pussy. Noah had one rule when it came to sex: he always eats you out before he fucks you. With the limited space that was in here he simply lifted your hips up enough to bring his meal to him.

You bite your lip from being help at this angle. Your knees dangle over his shoulder as his breath creeps up your thigh. His eyes never leaving yours as his mouth slowly comes in contact with your wet pussy and gives a long, slow lick from bottom to top, his tongue flicking your bundle of nerves

You could feel the air from your lungs escape completely as he ate you out. His nose began nudging at your clit as his tongue worked between your fold and prodding at your entrance. While one hand kept you hoisted up in the air, the other one snakes down your body and pushes your shirt over your breasts. Your nipples exposed to the cold air, hardening at the pleasure he was giving you, and being exposed in a risky environment. His large hand massages the flesh and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

“Noah…feel s’good,” you moan “ don’t…. Please don’t stop.”

He loved when you told him not to stop, especially when you said please. His hand retreats from your breast and comes up to your pussy. His lips wrap around and suck your clit between his lips as his long digits enter you and pump in and out. His fingers curl and hit your sweetest spot making you nearly cry out waking up everyone who is there. Your hand slaps over your mouth as you try to keep quiet.

Noah, for one was enjoying the view. Had his mouth on your pussy, giving you immense pleasure while he watched your face contort in the best of ways. Feeling you pulse around his his middle and ring finger made his chest swell with pride, knowing he was the one that was making you feel good. Little did he know that there were an extra set of eyes watching from a distance.

Over in folio’s tent, the drummer, completely shocked by what he was seeing. He was woken up by some suspicious noises and set up to see what was going on. At first, he thought he may have been dreaming and it could not have possibly been what he was thinking. His tent was directly across from yours at a certain Angle getting him. Perfect access through the slightly cracked zipper of your tent. Watching his close friend and leadof their band, eating out his girlfriend in their tent. They hadn’t even noticed how far the tent was left unzipped. He knew that they left it just slightly inserted. Maybe it was the movement, maybe they opened it more? He doesn’t know the reason why he was able to see so much into their private time. Was that he could not find himself looking away Either. 

All he knew was that he could feel his shorts growing tighter the longer that he watched. He knew that it was wrong, but for some reason he just couldn’t look away. he couldn’t see your face he could just see you being eaten out from the distance. His heart was pounding, trying to keep his breath at a minimum. His pants were getting tighter by the second to the point it was nearly painful, but wouldn’t be wrong to touch himself watching his two friends have sex? More thoughts were flooding into his mind. Things he would never think of before. Like what if it was him eating you out instead? Him being the one to give you pleasure, to make you moan and scream. But for now, just watching you receive pleasure was enough for him as his hands begin to lift and beyond the elastic of his shorts. He watched as Noah changed positions and had you on top.

You peel the shirt off of your body and toss it to the side as you adjust yourself to sink onto his hard dick. The sweetness of the stretch in the, fullness you felt in your lower stomach. Something about being out in a camping site, with his friends nearby, sleeping in their tents, made your body shiver in pleasure. Not necessarily to be watched, but the risk of being caught ignite something in your chest. You look down to see Noah with his eyebrows nipped together feeling the pleasure of your pussy constrict around him. You move your hips back-and-forth grinding your clit against his pubic bone as his dick stretched, and filled you, rubbing against your spot. You were seeing more than stars at this point. It was pure ecstasy, running through your body.

“Fuck princess… so tight and wet.” he whispers, obviously struggling to keep his voice down. “ do you like this? do you like when I fuck you outside, knowing there are people around? Such a little slut…but,” he comes up from his position to sit and come close your ear and whisper “ you’re my slut. My dirty little princess.” His hand, grabbed at your ass as he guides you up and down his cock. His mouth working at your collarbone, leaving bite marks, and bruises. your feet now planted on the ground as you walked back-and-forth against each other. The slight clap of skin against skin filled the quiet night air period the only other noise to be heard was the cracking of the fire. Just over your shoulder he had noticed something in the distance. Could it be possible that another pair of eyes were watching? You simply closed his eyes and came down to your nibble and began to suck and laugh at the sensitive skin.

“Yeah…right there, Noah” you pant “ So fucking good”

All of a sudden he pulls out of you, causing a wine to slip from your lips, losing the feeling of fullness and stretch. He turns you around and pushes your shoulders down onto the ground of the tent. The sliver of light that crept into your tent, making your body look celestial in the glow of the fire. He lines himself up and pushes the tip slowly before he bottoms out in one thrust into you. One reason he loved doggy was the primal feeling in his chest. Much less being out in the forest he felt like this is what you were meant to do. Find your person and marking them as yours and just fill them over and over again. Something about it just felt so natural and primal. If it weren’t for the extra people that were with you, he would have you screaming your head off.

He leans back as he watches himself pump in and out of you. Watching you take all of him, inch by inch your body arching more towards him, wanting to feel more of him. It made his cock harder and pulse each time, his large hand massaged the flesh of your ass so badly to spank you, but knowing that you would definitely wake everyone up. His body comes down until his chest molds with the arch of your back. His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he says

“ who does this pussy belong to?” he asked.

“Y-you..” you whimper out as his hips give slow short, thrust, extending, and prolonging the pleasure that you were chasing

“ say it baby,” he growls “ see how much you like being fucked and people know the only I can fuck you this good”

“I… I love it Noah” you squeal trying to keep your voice down, feeling your throat ache, wanting so badly to moan out “ I love it so much”

Nicks hand was coated with pre-cum as his hand quickly pumps up and down his deck. He could see your ass ripple with each thrust in the glow of the fire. each thrust your body jump and arch with pleasure. He just wish that he could see how your face twisted and pleasure. The way your mouth fell open when you were close. Fuck! This was so wrong!...but...but why does it feel so good? He's never felt so hard in his hand, never felt so good.

“Yeah baby…take it…take it” he huffs as his hand leaves your body and locks his fingers with yours and squeezed tightly. He ruts against you as he stutters and bites down on your shoulder to surpressed his own noises.

“Where..where?” He asked feeling himself close to cumming. He straightens himself again and gives you the last few hard thrusts. His eyes no longer on you but through the tent crack and gave a smirk, knowing damn well someone had enjoyed their night with a free show. Now most would think this wasn't ideal but in Noah's mind his first thought was

"that's right...all you can do is watch but never touch"

“I-inside…aahhh” you whine

He pounds into you with a few short but strong thrusts and spills into your pussy. Your walls milking and pulsing around him sweetly.

you shake as an orgasm rattles through your body, shaking your to your core. Your ass shivers against his hips as he pushes you over the edge. The lightheadedness, the tightness of your stomach, the way you pulse around him, the warmth that oozed out. He pulled out slowly and grabbed his shirt to clean you up. Pulling his shorts up again he helps to find yours and opens his arms for you to lay in

"Think you can sleep now?" he chuckles against your hair "little minx"

"hey!" you giggle "you like it when I'm a minx" you fire back

"I like you even if you weren't one" he kissed your head "Now go to sleep before someone gets up and asks why we're outta breath"

Nick sat in his tent, steamy and hot staring at his hand and the mess he had made. He couldn't believe what he had just done and how it had ended (lol post nut clarity). He cleans off his hand and plops back down on his sleeping back and stared through the see through room of this tent.

"fuck..." was all he could say when he processed what happened. Getting off to what he saw, fantasizing about you, and worse

Noah catching him and smirking at him! Tomorow morning was sure to be interesting.

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @fvckmeorchokeme @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547 @itsmrsfuentes @purple-lili @ima1986

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #nick folio #nick folio smut #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #star's original ✨ #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #nick folio fanfiction

[whispersoftheton]

Hey, lovely!!! Could I get a Regency Anthony x reader with the prompt “is that a drawing of me?” where maybe Anthony had Benedict draw the reader and just fluff. Please and thank you!!!

Hi my love! Oooohhhhh I've been wanting to try writing some Benedict so this is perfect! I hope you like it!

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader, Benedict Bridgerton

Warnings: anthony is a pining fool as usual, fluff, brotherly teasing

Word Count: 1.5K

Every day in Anthony's life was precisely like the other. Endless business deals and meetings, mixed with social obligations, became an excruciating routine for him. He found himself dreading each day, that is until he met you. You were the only thing that would instantly melt away a long day of dodging insignificant exchanges and keeping up a pleasant facade amongst everyone. The sight of your warm smile and the comfort of your presence was enough to instantly break through Anthony's seemingly tough exterior. Your voice whispered a soothing sonnet to his ears; he couldn't get enough.

But Anthony often found himself yearning from a distance, with fleeting moments and stolen longing glances at one another, constantly leaving a desire for more. A feeling he was quite unfamiliar with, seeing as he cared so little for other's company if it didn't involve business or family. You were different. The captivating way you held yourself in every discussion, effortlessly capturing his mind and heart all at once. Anthony knew he had to do something; he needed to make you his before the season came to an end. And he knew just how to do it.

Benedict sat in the center of the well-lit room, surrounded by canvases of unfinished paintings and what seemed to be smeared paint scattered among them. He contemplated continuing a piece he had been working on before Anthony barged through his doors.

"Ah, there you are." Anthony approached him, a firm pat on his back as he pretended to take an interest in the canvas before him.

"Brother. What do I owe the pleasure?" Benedict turned from his easel, an inquisitive look painted on his face at his brother's unusual affection toward him.

"I require a favor of you. A gift for…someone, and I will need your help." Anthony maintained a steady tone so as to not feed his brother's curiosity.

"And would this have anything to do with a certain lady who has piqued your interest as of late?" Anthony's eyes widened. He couldn't have known; he thought he had been discreet with the time he spent with you. "Maybe one who enjoys strolls in the park, hm?" Benedict teased, taking great pride in seeing his brother shift uncomfortably as he attempted to hide his affection for you from his prying. "It is, isn't it?" Benedict pushed, determined to get an answer out of him. "You are smitten! I knew it!" he blurted, jumping out of his seat, making Anthony step back and roll his eyes, shushing him in annoyance.

"You know nothing, and I will not discuss this any longer if you are to ridicule me as such." Anthony moved to depart before Benedict quickly moved in front of him and placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

"No, no, brother, I assure you it was not ridicule. I will help however I can, but…what could you possibly need from me?" Anthony scoffed, briefly pondering his options. Perhaps he could go into town and find you the most exquisite jewel his money could buy; that would undoubtedly rid him of the embarrassment now flowing through him before his sibling.

"You are artistic. I should like for you to paint a portrait of her."

"A portrait?"

"Yes. I want to gift it to her."

"And will you be gifting this said portrait to her as a sign of courtship, brother?" Benedict smirked, unable to help himself when it came to taunting his own brother. Anthony shot him a glare, to which Benedict put his hands up in defeat and cleared his throat. "Very well then. I shall have your portrait ready soon enough."

Benedict knew it would not be possible to have you posing in a room for hours on end for this portrait, so with Anthony's help, he dedicated a portion of his days to enjoying the park on days you did as well. He would sit on a bench far enough away to not be seen but near enough to capture you exactly right. He knew if Anthony had asked this of him, it must be of importance to him; he couldn't mess it up.

The mid-afternoon sun graced the sky as you made your weekly visit to the Bridgerton home. You and Eloise had made it a habit of strolling the market together from time to time in order to gain some time away from your mamas to talk all things Lady Whistledown. Upon your arrival, Lady Bridgerton greeted you as always, informing you that Eloise had made a quick visit to her friend Penelope but would make quick haste in her return. You graciously accepted her offer for tea and catching up while waiting.

Anthony huffed as he signed his name for what seemed like the millionth time that day on a never-ending sea of business documents. His eyes burned, and his head ached from the tension of a long workday requiring a break from his duties. He shut the door to his study and made his way to the main room, where he was sure whatever his many siblings were up to would engage his mind elsewhere. Instead, Anthony found a largely empty room, Hyacinth quietly practicing her Latin in one corner and his mama enjoying company in another. It wasn't until he walked closer that he discovered it was none other than you.

Your eyes immediately cast downward toward your teacup as Anthony came nearer with eyes searching for your own. It was inevitable; as much as you tried to avoid it, your draw to him was too much to disregard. Your eyes unwillingly met his. The softness of them melting away any tension you felt, pools of amber you wished to soak in forever mesmerizing you and making your breath hitch as you tried to steady the teacup in your hand. Your moment dissipated almost instantly when you heard Benedict enter the room, making both of you glance away, and Anthony cleared his throat.

"My brother and Mama tell me you are fond of art, yes?" Benedict said as Anthony stood behind him, eyes seemingly looking anywhere but at you. "We have several pieces you must see. I do think I should show you before Eloise makes her return, hm?" Benedict kindly offered you his hand. You glanced between Lady Bridgerton and him, taken back by his sudden offer. "It will only take a second. Brother, will you join us?" He looked knowingly toward Anthony, who nodded and began following the both of you down the hall. As keen as Benedict was to show everything to you, it seemed almost as soon as you entered the room, he excused himself with a hasty justification you barely heard, leaving you and Anthony utterly alone. You offered Anthony a kind smile which he returned. Unsure of what to do now that your chaperone had run off to god knows where.

"May I?" Anthony offered his arm, which you took almost too eagerly. He began guiding you through the room, showing you each painting and how his family acquired it. Your mind was otherwise preoccupied with having him so close.

"And this one…" Anthony paused as he led you to the end of the room. You must've been too distracted to realize he'd already passed most paintings—all but one. You noticed a small portrait was propped up on an easel beside the far wall of the grand room. The image became apparent as you approached it.

"Is that…me?" You were in awe, heart positively bursting at the lovely gesture. It was a detailed portrait of you sitting on a park bench, seemingly enjoying a book on a beautiful spring day in one of your favorite dresses. The picture captured you in one of the most tranquil moments of your day. It was breathtaking.

"Do you like it? I had my brother draw it for you; he is quite the artist. Or at least, he likes to think himself so." Anthony rambled unintentionally, slowly losing the composure he prided himself on before you. He wondered if you liked it; maybe this would be the moment he longed for. The moment you'd realize all the feelings he harbors for you. His head couldn't help but wonder, slipping into self-deprecation faster than he cared to admit. What if you absolutely loathed it? Found the entire situation to be quite odd and never wanted to see his face again. Your words untangled him from his spiraling thoughts.

"It is beautiful. Thank you." Anthony searched your face for any sign of disdain but found none. "I am quite speechless. I-This is…" Tears welled in your eyes, and your chest tightened, unsure how to convey your appreciation in words. But Anthony could tell by the tender way you admired it with so much fondness.

Anthony took a deep breath and stepped closer; this was it; he had to ask you now. A courtship with you was something he could only dream of. Deep down, Anthony knew if there was ever a chance of happiness with someone in this lifetime. It was with you by his side.

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I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton fic #bridgerton season 2 #anthony bridgerton angst

[batneko]

I've been watching Luigi's Mansion videos so here's another bowuigi idea:

King Boo took over an abandoned building and managed to lure in and capture a bunch of Luigi's friends. As Luigi's making his way through he finds a portrait of Bowser, of all people. At first Luigi is like Not My Problem, but his conscience gets the better of him and he goes back to free him.

Turns out the abandoned building was one Bowser Jr. liked to use for graffiti practice, and Bowser got caught when he came looking for him. Luigi finds this out because as soon as he's free Bowser grabs him and starts demanding where his son is and what kind of petty trick is this and all this must be Mario's fault somehow! It isn't until he tosses Luigi aside and declares he'll tear the whole building down that Luigi manages to get a word in edgewise.

Normally he'd be all in favor of destroying the building because it's haunted and he hates it here, but he's not sure what'll happen to his friends OR Junior if Bowser accidentally takes the portraits down along with the walls. Bowser is like "I don't take orders from you! But... uh, if you know what's going on I guess I could let you fill me in."

Luigi does, Bowser storms off to do slightly less destroying, and Luigi finds him in another painting two rooms later.

After that Bowser decides he's in charge but he'll allow Luigi to take point. There's not much he can do against ghosts, and he's too big to use the Poltergust, but having him along helps Luigi feel less scared. If he's grabbed by something or caught in a trap, Bowser can just grab him right back. And there's no need to find hidden doors since Bowser can tear through most indoor walls without breaking a sweat.

They find Junior before Mario, and Bowser is like "okay thanks for the assistance, loser. Bye." Leaving Luigi alone again. He hadn't expected anything else but it still doesn't feel great. But when Luigi is cornered by a floor boss, Bowser ends up smashing through a window and coming to his rescue.

He says he only did it because it'll be funny to tell Mario he owes him one, but Luigi thanks him anyway.

They keep going as a team, even fighting King Boo together ("You thought I was gonna let you get away with kidnapping MY kid and harassing MY- ... rival's brother?") but when Luigi goes to finally free Mario from the last portrait Bowser makes an excuse and dips. Didn't he say this was all just so he could rub it in Mario's face?

Later, once everything is over and everybody's home, Junior sends Luigi a drawing of him and Bowser fighting ghosts. Luigi pins it to his fridge.

#i don't know how they actually get together after this #maybe Luigi spontaneously kissed Bowser after one of his rescues #and Bowser is like 'ugh that's weird see if I ever help you again' #but saves him like three more times before they even leave the room #bowuigi #bowser x luigi #bowser #luigi #luigi's mansion #luwser #super mario bros #free idea

[monicahar]

wanderer x reader, short oneshot, suggestive near the end although nothing truly explicit, scaramouche's insecurities about his vision, that's all.

the wanderer liked to think he deserved his vision.

much like a puzzle fitting in its respective place, it's only right for him to gain the recognition of celestia. after all, he did become an all-knowing god himself from nothing but the ugly being known as the discarded puppet—kunikuzushi. even if it was but a momentary lapse, he had achieved an admirable feat unheard of since the archon war. receiving a vision in place of the gnosis that didn't belong to him was nothing to get worked up about. he constantly tells himself that it's expected from someone ambitious like him—he shouldn't be surprised.

he takes the teal gem into his hands with careful movement.

it's nothing to be happy about at all.

yet as he clutches the glowing anemo vision in his grasp, he cannot help but let a small smile grow on his face, feeling a swell of emotions stir inside him.

he doesn't know what this feeling is, but he's certain he's felt this before during his time as a kabukimono.

gratitude.

much absorbed in admiring the way it fits just right in his hands, he doesn't notice you approaching him, eyes softening at the way he stared in awe at his own vision.

“i remember you always scoffing at the notion of freedom,” you start with a smile of your own, effectively taking him out of his trance as he snaps his gaze towards you, immediately letting go of the vision as it hangs on a blue sash over his shoulder, “now you're here admiring your anemo vision like how you'd admire me.”

ignoring your flirtatious comment, he quickly retorts. “don't jump into conclusions.” he clicks his tongue as he crosses his arms, side eyeing you from his peripherals. “i was just checking if it was some type of sick fraud. celestia has to be testing me if they granted me a vision after i became god out of immoral means.”

you blink at his cautious statement. “give yourself a break. gods don't just hand out visions to anyone,” tugging playfully at his tucked-in kimono, you grin as you reach up to pinch his cheek with your other hand. “i, for one, think that the power of anemo is perfect for you. the clash of teal and blue do wonders for this pretty face of yours.” you laugh at the way his face burns.

“you're insufferable.” he complains, but doesn't make a move to remove your hand from his cheek.

“look who's talking.” you reply nonchalantly as you ignore the way his eye twitches in annoyance, removing your hands as you take a step back to stare at him properly. “look, i know you're hesitant about your vision. no matter how many times you tell me that you do deserve it—i know that's not what you actually think deep down inside.”

“...”

you sigh at his silence. it's just confirmation that you hit the bullseye. gently taking his hand in yours, you speak up once more—“does it feel that much unreal to have something you'd finally call your own?”

he doesn't reply again, but the answer is evident in the way his eyes narrow at the ground. after having so many things taken away from me, i'm not sure if i could trust this just yet. it still feels like a dream.

“we eternally owe buer for this. any other archon probably wouldn't have tolerated your actions, so do everyone a favor and just believe in yourself.” your grasp on his hand tightens. “if you can't do it for anyone, then atleast do it for yourself. you're quite the selfish one after all.” you giggle at your own comment, causing him to pursue his lips as to stop himself from smiling like an idiot.

right. he'd never forget the amount of help nahida and the traveler provided just for him to finally be himself—free from the exhausting hatred and bitterness he held against his creator.

he sharply inhales. “okay. i'll try. for both of us.” his voice comes out small, much akin to a whisper that you probably would've missed if it weren't for your close proximity.

he shuts his eyes when you lift his hat to press a chaste kiss on his forehead, further reminding him that he wasn't alone in this world anymore. that he has someone to rely on once again.

he inwardly scoffs. he's selfish. incredibly selfish.

to think that he can have you and his vision in one seating—it's only a matter of time before fate takes it toll and takes one of his cherished possessions away once again in the name of karma.

he has sinned so much that even he's unsure if he deserves the peace bestowed by the god of wisdom. he could get you in more danger now that the fatui is in his trail—it'd really be better if you cut ties with him but he really doesn't want to.

simply because he's selfish.

and if it's his selfishness that's keeping you anchored by his side, then he doesn't mind it at all.

he'll stay selfish till the ends of time, as long as it means to have what he wants right where he wanted it.

the wanderer gazes at his vision once more, bringing it up to the moonlight pouring in from an open window, blinking his eyes at the way it reflects on the luminous glow of the moon.

glancing at the sleeping figure beside him, his eyes soften at the way your chest heaves back up and down, before he trails up on your neck—covered with the blotches of his bites. his eyes narrow at the sight.

you encouraged him to be selfish even after everything he's done.

after putting his precious vision atop the bedside table, the wanderer gently brings your head to tuck under his chin, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips as he caresses your back in comforting circles. his own eyelids fluttering to a close at the comforting beat of your chest, quietly inhaling the scent of your hair affectionately.

so he'll oblige.

he'll bask in this selfish peace, and he'll prolong it—no matter what it takes.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #har❗fiction #genshin impact x reader

[kaleldobrev]

Prologue — Take Me Back Series

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hi, I just joined Tumblr and came across your blog, it's wonderful! I'd like to make a request, something between Sam and reader. The reader dies and Sam makes a pact to bring her back, but she comes back without remembering him and the hunting life. He thinks it's best to stay away from her. Years later they meet and she falls in love with him all over again, and when they kiss she regains her memory. Do you like it?

Chapter Word Count: 1.3k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Sad Sam Winchester

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy the Prologue of the Take Me Back mini-series! | This was originally supposed to be just a one-shot | Also Y/N is not in this chapter, but she'll be in the next one! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Four Years Ago...

With a snap of the small metal box, Sam placed it back into the crossroads and buried it, taking a deep breath. Turning around, a brunette woman appeared, wearing a long black gown. "Ah Sam Winchester, what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked, a slight smile on her lips.

"You already know," Sam replied, voice stern.

"You want your girlfriend back," she answered, and Sam nodded. "See, here's the thing about that. I would love more than anything to bring her back so the two of you can live happily ever after. I'm a sucker for romance."

Sam scoffed. "I'm sure you are. So can you bring her back or not?" He asked, his hand slowly starting to move into his back pocket, gently gripping the demon knife.

"Release your hand from that knife and then we can talk," she smirked. Sam and her exchanged looks briefly before he released his hand from the knife, placing his hands in front so she could see them bare. "That's more like it," she smiled. "So, there's the deal. I can bring her back, but...there's a catch," she said, flashing her whitest smile.

"I know there's a catch. Me and my brother have made plenty of demon deals," he replied. "Ten years, or me and my brother do you a favor and not kill you."

She let out a small laugh. "You boys know that ten-year deal is never on the table for you, and as much as I would love having a Winchester owe me one, you boys almost never hold up your end." She started walking toward him now, and her hands fell to his chest, which tightened at her touch. "I can bring her back, and you don't have to owe me a thing but, the catch is," she leaned in, whispering in his ear, "she won't remember you or the hunting life."

"What do you mean she won't remember me?" He asked, his voice slightly hurtful.

"Sweetie, what part of she won't remember you can't you wrap your gigantic head around? Tsk. Tsk," she moved around him, her hands gripping his muscular arms. "I bring her back, she doesn't remember you or hunting. I say that's a pretty sweet deal."

Sam wanted you back, needed you back. You didn't deserve to die the way that you did; especially because it was his fault, a true accident. Something that he would never forgive himself for, for as long as he lived.

You were his person, the love of his life; the first woman he's truly loved in a long time. Someone who, after years of struggling, finally let break down those walls of his that he had spent years and years working on in order to protect himself from further hurt. Before you, he had told himself that he was done with relationships, done with romance in general; he didn't really see the point as all of his romantic ventures always ended up just like this. But for you, he made the exception; being solely your friend was something he just couldn't do anymore.

After years of pining after you and finally being able to call you his, it was now a Catch-22 for him. He could either have you be brought back to life and no longer have you in his life or you would be dead and gone for good, still no longer having you in his life. But maybe, despite not having you in his life, this was the best-case scenario for you. Not only would you be alive and well, but you would be able to live your life in safety and without the previous traumas of the hunting life you were so privy to.

With a small sigh Sam said, "Do it," almost responding through gritted teeth.

"You know the deal," she smirked. "Pucker up Buttercup."

Present Day...

Sam's alarm went off the same time as it normally did, and he quickly shut it off, softly groaning. Today was the day that he had been dreading for weeks, although he had been mentally preparing himself. At this point, he thought that this would become just another average day for him to get through, a day that he would slowly forget over time; but this day in particular had become so ingrained in his memory that he would not be forgetting this day any time soon: your birthday. He had spent countless birthday's with you, before and during the time that the two of you were together.

Sam was never really a person that liked to celebrate his birthday, it was just another day for him. But when he met you, he learned to appreciate every single birthday, especially because of something that you had said to him. "It's another year that I can celebrate being alive."

Sitting at the edge of his bed, he rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep from them. Sighing, he got up and started making his way into the kitchen; and much to his surprise, his older brother was already up making breakfast on the stove, a fresh pot of coffee already made on the counter. "Good morning Sunshine," Dean grinned, as he slowly worked on the scrambled eggs before him.

"Morning," Sam replied, his voice monotone. He walked over to the mugs, grabbing one and sighing as he examined it. You had given him his mug.

Dean looked up, noticing the slight hesitation in Sam's movements, and saw the mug that he was currently holding. Fuck, I forgot to hide it today, Dean thought to himself. "Give me that mug will ya? I'll put it some place else."

Sam looked over at his brother, continuing to hold the mug in his hands as Dean held out his hand to take the mug. "It's fine," he replied, pouring the coffee into the mug before sitting down at the island. "You know what today is right?"

"Y/N's birthday," Dean said, as he started making up the two plates of food. "I uh, I tried making the eggs the same way she would make them in honor of today."

"Thanks," Sam said, taking one of the plates from his brother. "I thought I'd be over this by now," he confessed. "It's been what? Four years."

"Sam, she was in our lives for six years," Dean began. "I don't expect you to just get over it," he stated. And he really didn't, Hell, even he wasn't completely over it. Although he didn't have the same relationship with you that Sam had had, he deeply cared for you. You were one of his best friends, someone that he considered family, and you were gone in seconds. But despite losing you and hurting, the hurt that he felt was extremely different compared to that of Sam's hurt. You were the love of his life, the first woman that Sam had let himself love in a long time. He loved you more than anyone, and you were ripped away. "Did you want to do something for her birthday?"

Sam shook his head. "Honestly no," he said, his voice a mixture of tired and defeated. "There's no point if she's not here. I just want to work."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Well, in that case, if you're up for it, there seems to be something that might be right up our alley in Kansas City," Dean said, sliding the newspaper over to Sam. "Five runaways have been killed in less than one month at the same shelter."

As Sam examined the news story he raised a brow. "Y/N's shelter," he commented, sliding the paper back over to his brother.

"Shit," Dean said, "Sorry, I had no idea," he lied. "I can uh...I can call another hunter to go and check it out or I can always bring Cas or Jack along instead."

"No, no. I'll go," Sam said. The last thing he needed was for Jack or Cas to accidently say something to you; at least Sam knew better not to say anything.

"You gonna be okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I gotta be," he responded.

"Perfect! We leave in thirty!" Dean smiled, as he clapped his hands together.

In the next chapter...

“It’s better this way. She’s…she’s not in danger anymore,” Sam said, his voice defeated. He was miserable without you, but you being safe was all that mattered to him.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @fuiabarcelos @foxyjwls007 @missscarlettangel @crystal555 If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#sam Winchester x reader #Sam Winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #Sam x you #Sam x reader #female reader #reader insert

[geminixevans-stan]

Little Elf

Pairing: Biker!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Words: 2.9k+

Summary: The reader wanted to spread some hoeliday cheer by giving a gift. But what comes with that gift is something that she’s wanted all along 

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, explicit content, smut, Anal (f receive), daddy kink, use of handcuffs, spanking, anal play, and aftercare.

A/N: It’s been forever since I’ve written anything and thanks to my sweet flower @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for gracing me with this wonderful request! My muse jumped at it like it owed it money! Anywho! I hope you all love it! Like, comment, & reblog! ♥

Divider by @firefly-graphics

I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P

You thought it would be a good idea to show him an early Christmas present. Even thought it would be cute to visit him at the clubhouse in an elf costume to hand deliver the gift yourself. 

What you didn’t think about was the consequences of your actions. 

The consequences being you bent over his desk, legs spread wide as both your wrists laid between your thighs with the pretty gift wrapped around them. Your pretty little elf skirt was long gone and the anticipation of what your Steve was going to do had your cunt glistening in the well-lit office. 

“My pretty little elf, what am I going to do with you?” he hums, standing erect as can be as she scanned his handiwork of you on his desk. His growing bulge concealed behind his jeans as he watched your pretty pussy become wetter by the second. 

If only you could see the look in his eyes as he looked you over, your eyesight thoroughly concealed by his favorite bandanna. But, you’ve seen that look more than once before. 

Whenever you decided to try him, that menacing, daring look he gave was all you needed to plead for your life. Even though, they would always fall on deaf ears, causing you to have a sore ass and a wrecked pussy the day after. 

You try to wiggle your way out of the position, only to yelp at the sharp sting of his hand as it landed on your soft cheeks, accompanied by a disapproving sound spilling from his lips. 

“Ah ah little elf, you brought daddy a gift. A gift that I plan on using over and over again.” 

A whimper falls from your lips, causing him to chuckle as you hear his footsteps become more prominent with each step he took. The excitement and nervousness confused you but, your body heating up only had one mission. 

Be good for daddy… we broke a rule

That rule you ask? It was a fairly simple one and when Steve found out that it was broken… He was confused. 

Confused because you looked so goddamn cute and delectable in your Elf outfit and pissed that someone could get a glimpse of his pussy with how short your skirt was. Way above your knees and almost short enough for everyone to see his initials permanently on your skin. 

Steve Rogers could be the sweetest man on Earth… to you anyway. But even he had to let his princess know when and where to not fuck with him. 

What better way to find out than today?

If it was bratty holiday cheer you wanted to spread, he was going to make sure he returned the favor. With perfect strides, he steps in front of you, lifting your chin up with one single finger as she bent down to nip at the skin of your lips, causing you to whimper softly for him. 

“What rule did we break baby? Should be easy to answer since there was nothing under that pretty skirt of yours,” you could just see the smirk on his lips. You knew it just by the sarcastic tone in his voice. 

And you hated it…

With your chin captured between his fingers, you bit your bottom lip, feeling it tremble as you started to speak, “I didn’t wear panties…”

“And why didn’t you, pretty elf?”

You were nervous, that was apparent. Yet, there was something in you that still wanted to test him. To see just how far you could push him until he had you a crying and sore mess. 

With a simple shrug or a shrug that you could do with the position you were in, you give him the prettiest smile that you could give him and say, “I guess I forgot daddy. You know you have to help your dumb baby with these thi-,” his hand wrapping around throat cut off whatever else you needed to say. 

His grip was firm but gentle as he rested his forehead against yours, the scent of his cologne wrapping around your nose as feel his warm breath on your face. 

“You’re my dumb baby, that’s a fact. But not that fucking dumb. Wanted to be cute and now look at you, princess. Dripping all over my desk, and my gift around your wrists,” the slow sucking of his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth, alerted you of just how fucked you really were. 

But, you were in too deep to start begging now. You poked the bear too much and now your ass was going to pay. Your breath was yours once more as you felt him leave the front of you, hearing his footsteps in the same area but now behind you. 

“Thought long and hard about what I should do, princess and I’m going to apologize to that tight hole of yours for what I’m about to do to it,” his voice gravelly as he moves closer to you, gripping the soft globes of your ass before letting go and smacking them both at the same time. 

A guttural moan escapes your throat at how deliciously painful the sting was to your skin, painful pins radiating through your scalp the moment Steve pulled your hair back and brought his hand back down to your skin again over and over.

“What? You want them to hear you too? Does my princess like being looked at? Heard by others?” he asks as she slides his hand over your throat again, squeezing even tighter, “I think I saw Ari with his eyes on you. Think he heard you just now?”

The grip on your throat caused for little words to spill out. But, you knew to answer or things would get much, much worse, “N-no daddy… No… AH!!” you shriek, feeling a harder slap on your other cheek. 

Steve pulls your hair taut, leaning your head against his shoulder as she licks a slow stripe up your cheek, “You’re lying, little slut. I know you better than you know yourself. And…” his voice lowers, slipping his hand from your throat, you feel his thick digits spread your drenched folds open, running them up and down.

“My pussy tells me a different story, don’t you my precious cum dump?”

It was all true, your body betrayed you every single time. Steve had the key and he knew how to please your pussy like no other person could. From your very first date, Steve had claimed you and your sweet pussy as his and you let him. 

Over and over and over again….

There was no denying him at this point. No reason to even put up a front to him. Whatever he had planned was going to happen no matter how hard you pleaded and besides…

You knew you could stop him whenever you said the magic word

The easy way out was not what you were looking for. You wanted Steve. Wanted to be his little fuck toy until he was tired and now was your chance. With a shaky breath, you let out a soft giggle, swiping your tongue over your bottom lip as you looked up at him, “Maybe daddy… Maybe Ari could fuck me better. Seems like you’ve lost your touch”

Silence…. Absolute silence.

Steve let out a low chuckle, the tick in his jaw apparent as he slowly let your hair go, “Oh princess… my sweet girl. I think you really are fucking dumb,” a low growl erupts from his lips, encasing you in his arms as she carefully takes you over to his sofa, dropping you down carefully. 

He positions you with your face to the cushion, ass up and your wrists nestled between your legs as he takes his spot behind you, his chuckle returning as she grips your ass cheeks tightly and letting them go. 

Your thighs were beyond drenched with slick, fresh droplets hanging from your lips as Steve admired you from behind. 

“It’s such a shame, pretty elf. You look so good like this. Too bad you had to be a fuckin’ brat,” he murmurs, slapping your ass again as you hear the jingle of his belt being loosened and the button of his jeans popping. You can hear the rustle of his jeans and briefs being pushed down the same time, anticipation lacing your body as you lay your head against the plush sofa. 

You sway your ass in the air, smirking before crying out as she lands another swat on your cheek, “Daddy please!”

Steve hums, sinking two fingers inside your drenched cunt as he pumps them slowly in and out of your soaked hole, “Oh we’re so done with manners baby. You wanted all my attention and now you have it,” coldness lacing his throat as he pumps his fingers inside you, hooking them expertly to bump against your spongy spot. 

Moans slip from your lips as you feel him stretch and scissor your slippery opening, coating his fingers in your slick as you fall deeper and deeper into pleasure. Your body heating up from how close he could push you to the end. 

“Oh… fuck, daddy. That’s so good, m’ so close” you whisper softly, feeling your cunt flutter and drip before he snatches his fingers from you. You whine protest, yelping when he slaps your ass again. 

He leans over your body, his cock, pressing against your opening as your eyes flutter closed, “Only good girls get to cum. Let’s see how nice I am after I wreck that pretty hole of yours,” smacking your ass again before sinking his cock into your wet channel, groaning when he feels you wrap around him. 

Steve curses under his breath, sinking in deeper as you let out a low groan, feeling every inch of him stretch you out, feeling him pulse inside of you. He leans back from your frame, spreading your cheeks apart and spitting on your puckered hole before slowly sinking his thumb inside and thrusts deeply into your tight pussy. 

He snaps his hips slowly, inching his thumb deeper into your ass, leaning his head back as he enjoys the warmth of you around him, “Why’d ya have to be a brat baby? Huh?” he grunts, sliding all the way out to the tip, and thrusting back in as she knocks the breath out of you. 

With each snap of his hips, Steve stretches you more and more, removing his thumb as you hear the pop of a top open and cold fluid drip over your tight hole. You try to move away, feeling both of his hands pull you back on his cock. 

Your mouth hangs open at the feel of every inch of him inside of you, trembling when you know what’s coming next. 

Steve wasted no time pulling from you, resting his cock between your soft cheeks. He grabs both globes in his hands, massaging them softly as she feels you relax for him, “That’s it my pretty elf, be good for me. Don’t wanna hurt you too bad,” he whispers, sliding his cock up and down between your cheeks, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, closing his eyes slowly. 

You feel his cock harden fully, eyes widening under your blindfold at the damage you know he could do. Breathing deeply, you stay still, as he lines his cock up with your puckered hole, beginning to slowly push past the tight ring.

“Fuck… me” you groan out, clenching your hands closed as he sinks his thick cock further inside of you, feeling the stretch of every single inch, “Fuckfuckfuckkkkk, daddy”

“Goddammit princess, need to fuck this hole more often. Gripping me like a fucking vice” he grunts happily when he pushes every inch inside of you, “Look at that perfect ass. Swallowing my dick like a champ,” admiration in his tone as he squirts more lube on your hole. 

He throws down the bottle, gripping your hips as she pulls his hips back and sliding back in slowly to get you used to his size before slamming back in gripping you tightly.

 

“Holy fuck! I didn’t mean it, daddy! Ow!” 

Steve snaps his hips over and over, reaching down to rub circles over your clit as you begin to relax your tight ring around him, “Hm, I think you did baby. I think you wanted this. You wanted them to see what’s mine” he growls, changing the pace of his thrusts as he strokes you deeper, making you cry out in ecstasy. 

He reaches forward, gripping your hair in his hand as he pounds your ass, the loud sounds of slapping skin and the noises coming from your lips echoing against the walls. You squeeze around him tighter, feeling the pleasure bloom in your core from the double stimulation. 

“I just… wanted.. Fuck!” you whimper as his strokes become deeper and quicker. Juices dripping on his fingers as your mind goes blank.

“What was that pretty elf? Couldn’t hear you” he snaps his hips once making your cry out, “You were say dumb baby?” snapping his hips twice as you make the same noise again, “What’s the matter princess? Hm? Don’t tell you went dumb already” he coos, taking you squeezing around him as his answer before pounding you once more. 

You words were incoherent, save for the sounds don’t stop daddy. Just like that. As you say it over and over again. All that was left of you was a blissed out slut, taking every single inch that her daddy gave her. 

Wanted to get back on his good side was everything as he was showing you what happens when rules are broken. Steve couldn’t even be mad at you for acting out. He was busy beyond belief and there wasn’t anything else he would rather do than to be with you all day. 

In some way, right now, he was making up for it. But oh, he was more than willing to put you back where you belonged in the process. You’ve acted out before but not to this extent. Steve had to make sure that his lesson was well learned.

He placed his hand at the small of your back, making you arch more as he crossed his arms over your ass and pounded into you tight hole deeply, making you feel every single part of him. 

“Oh.. My… daddy… daddy” you whisper for only him to hear. Your head reaching into the clouds the higher he took you to pure bliss and pleasure.

Steve kept using you to his pleasure, keeping his pace just right as he could feel you squeezing him tighter and tighter, signaling the end coming near. He releases you from his grip, leaning over to tilt your head up with his hand as she strokes you deeply.

“Does my little elf wanna cum? Hm?” he asks, smiling when he sees you nod frantically, the act was all he needed to return him back to wrecking your ass. 

With precision, Steve kept your back arched with his hand keeping you pressed down, snapping his hips, as the clapping sound of skin centered back to what he was doing. He licked his other fingers, dropping them down as he rubbed quick tight circles around your clit, hearing you moan out softly. 

Spurts of slick dripped down into his palm as she brought it up to lick every single drop before returning his fingers back to your clit, “That’s my fucking girl. Cum for me little elf. Cum hard for daddy. Right. Now” he growls, while punctuating every syllable with the snap of his hips. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, the dam gushing out of your pulsating pussy was first before your mouth flew open, the most pornographic sounds spilling from them as orgasm after orgasm began to crash down on you. 

The splashing of your release quickly triggered his as he pushed deep inside of you, filling you tight hole with rope after rope of his cum. Steve held your hips, groaning loudly as she filled you, “Fuck! Goddamn, princess, keep cummin’ on my cock just like that,” Steve’s voice trembled as he emptied himself, pulling out and slamming back in as he filled you with another load.

The pulse of his cock only triggered another release for you, feeling yourself collapse on the couch as Steve followed you, kissing down your back slowly before pulling out and unlocking the handcuffs from your wrists. 

You try to move, only to be pushed down softly when you hear the clicking sound of a camera, tensing up automatically. 

Steve presses a kiss to your shoulder, before the sound happens again, “Just me, princess. Just taking a pic of art,” he murmurs, almost getting hard again at his cum leaking out of your ass. 

He hums, softly, taking you in his arms as he lays back on the couch with you on his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, relaxing as she rubs aloe all over your cheeks, kissing your body all over as she takes care of you.

“Did so good for me, so fucking good,” he whispers, opening up a bottle of water and pressing it to your lips, giving a satisfied hum when you drink half the bottle before pushing it away.

Steve holds you tight, feeling the light breath on his neck as you lay on him, feeling completely satisfied. You feel his soft lips, press to your temple, making you snuggle close as she gives a soft chuckle.

“What did we learn baby?” 

The answer rings in your ear as you lean up to look into his eyes, smiling softly, “Never wear panties…”

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