#also. i felt like i was tripping absolute balls. everything was so fucking loud and. yknow. it didn't help my situation or anything

[outlying-hyppocrate]

oh look! a post by everyone's favorite person, credence khae outlying-hyppocrate! a perfectly normal post! on perhaps something other than the topic of human suffering!

(i lied)

#random thoughts #mh. euthanize me #don't worry! i went to the nurse's office. overcoming fears and shit. yay #also. i felt like i was tripping absolute balls. everything was so fucking loud and. yknow. it didn't help my situation or anything #i was so distracted. agh. my friend gave me a piece of candy. i just tried to give it back to her #i was actually at the nurse's office for another reason. another friend fractured his wrist in pe. he fell off one of the horses #and i was just standing there next to him in the nurse's office. i ended up sitting on the floor. i don't know how #then he left. and i talked to my friend there while i waited for the nurse to tend to the other students #then. i finally said something #so. yes. fears faced. but uh. still not feeling great #i'm used to it though. it's okay loves. but also #augh. ough. hng. hnnn. hmph. fhmhnfm. ack. positively wailing my friend #<- this tag + mh. is so me right now

[seijorhi]

Patience of a Saint

An Ushijima x virgin reader commission for the wonderful @hearteyes-candyskies, I hope you enjoy it, bby! 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi x female reader

TW non-con, nsfw, smut, virgin reader

“Wait, you’re kidding me, right?”

Ushijima simply shrugs, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

Semi and Tendou share a glance, the former hiding a smirk behind the glass rim of his beer bottle. Tendou had been the one to drag them both downtown for ramen in the middle of the night, an impromptu reunion of sorts, now that the volleyball season had wrapped up and Tendou was back in Sendai.

Perhaps his first mistake had been to allow his friend the option to stay with him instead of booking a hotel. Though, truth be told, Tendou would have undoubtedly monopolised his time regardless of where he was staying, and Ushijima would have allowed him to.

They were friends, after all, and that was what friends did. He was just glad that Semi had been roped in alongside him. 

When and how the conversation had steered towards his relationship with you, more specifically the details regarding your bedroom exploits together, Ushijima isn’t entirely sure, but he has no reason to lie to his friends.

The disbelieving look on Tendou’s face, however, makes him wonder if he’s said something wrong. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been dating this girl for how many months now, and you haven’t actually slept together yet?”

At that, Ushijima shakes his head. “We’ve slept together,” he corrects, taking a sip of his own beer. He likes sleeping with you, finds an odd sense of comfort he’s never felt before, waking up to find you curled against his side. 

Most mornings Ushijima has no trouble getting out of bed for an early start. He’s found that lately, at least on the nights you stay over, that’s no longer the case. 

The snort from his right is abruptly cut off into a choking cough as Semi tries and fails to mask his amusement. “He means sex, dude. You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

“No.”

The loud cackles from the ex-middle blocker are enough to draw the attention of several other patrons, but Tendou pays them no mind. “Why the hell not? Is she hideously ugly or something?”

“Nope,” Semi answers in his stead, a little too quickly for Ushijima’s liking. But he supposes he cannot blame his friend for noticing your attractiveness. You are, of course, beautiful - he’s told you many times.

A lone, red eyebrow quirks, glittering amusement dancing across Tendou’s face, “Are you… are you having trouble performing, big guy?”

Semi almost chokes on his mouthful, and even Ushijima feels the tips of his ears flush red. “No,” he asserts with a frown. “She…” he pauses, unsure for the first time whether this might be a line that he’s crossing to reveal something so personal between the two of you.

It’s not like he hasn’t discussed sex with them before. He has an almost uncomfortable amount of knowledge regarding the girls the redhead has been with, and Semi is no better.

(Semi was actually far, far worse.)

And truth be told he’s never been shy to share his own exploits with his friends, either. You might be the first girl that Ushijima’s ever loved, but love is not a necessary requirement for sex. He ensured that his partners left satisfied and so did he, there wasn’t anything more to it than that.

But you mean something to him. You mean everything. 

“She… wants to wait,” he says quietly. “She’s-”

Tendou’s red eyes widen, his face transforming into an expression of delighted surprise as he puts it all together. “She’s a virgin?!”

“Hey, dumbass,” Semi grunts, smacking his old friend over the back of his head, “you wanna say that a little louder? I don’t think the entire restaurant heard you.”

Tendou waves off his admonishment with a flick of his wrist, his attention firmly fixed on the ace. “So I was right then? You found yourself a cute, innocent little virgin for a girlfriend?”

Ushijima doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to. 

He can still remember the scared look on your face the first time you stopped him, the way your hands shook and your pretty eyes filled with tears as you explained. Did you truly believe he would leave you over something as simple as that? 

While he might have been… somewhat disappointed, he understood. He loves you, he’s known that for a while. He could be patient, wait for you to become accustomed to him, wait for you to get over your fears and apprehension.

Not that you make it easy for him. He knows you aren’t teasing him on purpose with low cut dresses and too short skirts, cuddling close in bed at night just so you can grind your ass against the swell of his cock, you’re too innocent for such things.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the heat that pools in his gut, the stirrings of desire and twitch of his cock every time you bend over in front of him and he’s rewarded with a perfect view. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s had to excuse himself to the bathroom, bracing himself against the wall, bent over and fisting his cock to the mental image of you spread out naked, desperate and begging before him. 

“Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still a bit ticked off that you’ve been dating this girl for months and managed to hide her from me, your very best friend. I wanna see pics!”

Ushijima exhales, “You will meet her tomorrow-”

But it’s a fruitless endeavour, as Semi’s already scrolling through his phone to pull up your social media. Dutifully he passes it across the table, and Ushijima can only watch as Tendou’s eyes widen and a wicked grin creeps across his face. 

“You, my big, beautiful, brawny friend, have the patience of a saint. My condolences.”

—

He meets you the very next day, and there’s a strange feeling in Ushijima’s chest as he watches you collapse into a fit of giggles at Tendou’s joke, the redhead’s arm slung casually over your shoulders.

He’s pleased that you get along with his old friends, it’s not something he’s ever had to concern himself with with his previous partners. They were nothing more than blips on a radar - not necessarily one night stands, but hardly worth introducing to the people who matter most to Ushijima.

Yet he can’t help but linger on Tendou’s comment from the night before.

You hadn’t told him that you were waiting for marriage. It wasn’t a religious vow you’d taken. It was just that you weren’t ready for sex yet. You asked for time.

And he’d understood. Your relationship was new, and he supposed that for your first time he was perhaps intimidating. You were shy. Nervous.

It was to be expected.

But hasn’t he proven by now that he can be gentle? That he loves you, and he has absolutely no intention of leaving you? You’re the only one he wants to be with - the only one he’ll ever want to be with. If you’re waiting for the right ‘one’ to lose your virginity to, what more does he have to do to convince you that he’s it?

Which makes him consider, watching you smile at him as you duck into his kitchen to grab some more snacks, whether you might not be as invested in this relationship as he is.

He doesn’t doubt that you love him, but even as you sidle up beside him, letting him tuck you to his side where you belong, he can’t help but question whether the true reason you haven’t allowed him to take you as he wants is because you’re still under the assumption that your relationship has an expiration date.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

Sex is separate from love, Ushijima knows that, but he’s also firmly of the belief that it can be an act of intimacy, an expression of love deeper than words or other actions can convey. He wants to feel that with you. 

He wants to watch you writhing beneath him, your pussy squeezing around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth, lost in the ecstasy that only he can bring you. 

He wants to know what sounds you’ll make, what pretty moans and gasps he can draw out from you as he fucks you within an inch of your sanity. 

He wants to look in your eyes the first time he makes you cum, wants to take his time, to kiss you slowly, baptise you in pleasure and watch as you surrender yourself completely to the love he has for you. 

Ushijima doesn’t have time to waste on romantic flings and relationships that will go nowhere. You are his future, so it does not make sense for you to keep holding yourself back where sex is concerned. 

The sound of your laugh breaks through Ushijima’s musing and he’s pulled back to the present as you recount the story of how the two of you met to the redhead. He’s told Tendou before, but somehow the way you tell it made it sound better. You paint him in a better light, make yourself out to be the awkward one, stumbling over your apologies when it was his fault that you’d tripped in the first place. 

You don’t have a clue about the weeks leading up to that moment, but it hardly matters. He’s content merely just to listen as you speak, your cheeks warming, long lashes fluttering as you glance up at him with that gentle smile of yours.

He loves you. 

Across from the both of you, he catches the pointed look in Tendou’s eye- 

It will be good for the both of you.

-and comes to a decision.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead just grins brightly when Ushijima corners him shortly afterwards, telling him that he will have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

“No worries, I can crash at Semisemi’s,” he sings, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “You two need your space, I get that.”

Ushijima nods, turning to leave, only for Tendou to reach out and stop him. “Yes?”

“You know, I kinda like her, Ushiwaka. Think she’ll be good for you, so try not to break her in two tonight, yeah?”

He frowns at the comment, causing Tendou to break into a fit of laughter. 

By now, he should be used to his friend’s ribbing, but the thought of hurting you even as a joke doesn’t sit well with the ace. 

To his credit, Tendou plays his role well. You all but beg him to stay for dinner, but he just mournfully shakes his head, sighing about Eita twisting his arm and forcing him to go watch him and his band play at some local bar.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have put more effort into making this romantic for you. He’s never had to try with things like that before. He should have cooked dinner, and maybe considered candles and roses, or even music.

Instead, you order takeout and eat it sprawled across Ushijima’s lap, and he cannot find it within himself to mind. The most mundane activities are made better simply for you being by his side, he’s found.

He waits, fingers casually stroking along your arm as you curl up to his side to watch something on TV. You seem to be enjoying it, if the giggles that spill from your lips are anything to go by, but Ushijima finds himself distracted by the gnawing feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, an eagerness that has him twitching to act.

It doesn’t help that he’s all too aware of the softness of your body pressing against his. 

But he won’t have your first time together be on his living room couch, of all places. He has enough patience to wait for weariness to set in, and when you yawn trying to muffle it against his shoulder, Ushijima almost smiles. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

You nod, and he presses a gentle kiss to your hair before helping you up. 

He knows that you like to shower before sleeping, and while there’s a voice in his head that whispers for him to go and join you, Ushijima simply strips out of his clothes, sits on the edge of his bed and waits.

When you emerge from the steam, smelling faintly of the vanilla and citrus body wash he’d bought after the first night you’d stayed over, he stiffens. Instead of your usual sleeping attire (an old tee-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts) you’re clad solely in one of his fluffy towels, hair still damp, skin glistening with stray droplets of water.

“Hey, sorry I forgot my-” you pause, words trailing off as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, utterly naked. For a split second, you freeze in place, eyes wide and lips softly parted, like a deer caught in headlights.

And then, just as Ushijima moves to stand, you snap out of it.

“Oh my god!” you cry, whirling around and clutching the knot of your towel, hiding yourself from his view and burying your face in your hands. “I-I’m sorry!” 

It’s rather adorable how flustered you get by something as natural as nakedness.

“Why wou- you know what, nevermind. I…uh, I forgot my clothes, they’re just on my bag I think, could you, um- could you please pass them to me?”

He spies them, folded neatly on the top of the overnight bag you’d packed. Instead, he reaches out to take your hand and gently tug you back towards him.

“Wakatoshi, what are you-” but your surprised protests are swallowed up as he leans down to kiss you. Yet instead of softening to his touch, allowing him to take the lead as he usually does, you stiffen in his arms, your hands finding their way to his bare chest, trying to push him away.

“Toshi, just- just stop for a second, please?” you gasp, managing to extricate yourself from the kiss.

That won’t do.

He has to be gentle with you, but with anticipation coiling in his gut, his cock stirring at the thought of your almost naked body pressed against his, it’s easy for him to forget his strength as he rids you of the offending material, bends down and hefts you up into his arms. 

“Shh, little one,” he says, ignoring your shouts as he takes the three steps over to his bed so he can lay you down. “I know you’re scared, but you have no need to be. I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make us both feel good, I promise.”

He bestows another kiss against your forehead as he climbs over your trembling frame. 

“Babe… Toshi, please- I-I’m not, I don’t-” your eyes are wide and filling with tears and you’re shaking your head - it fills him with a flicker of unease, but he knows deep down that this is just temporary.

You need this as much as he does, and once he shows you how wonderful he can make you feel, you’ll thank him. 

Cradling your cheek with one large hand, he tries to tell you as much.

But your breath is coming in quick pants, your terrified eyes darting past his broad frame as if you’re trying to look for an escape route while pleas and whimpers spill almost incoherently from your lips, and he realises that words won’t be enough.

He’ll just have to show you. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing you once more before turning his attention to the rest of your body. It’s not the first time he’s seen you bared, of course, but it is the first time he’s been allowed the luxury of taking his time to enjoy it.

Your whimpers are soft and distressed as his lips trail down the column of your throat, resisting the urge to nip and suck at the tender skin, and you squirm under him when his mouth finds your breasts. The sounds you make for him, your choked little gasps only feed the pit of hunger deep inside of him. You must be able to feel his cock, big and thick, rutting up against your stomach, leaving a shining trail of oozing pre-cum across your skin as he busies himself playing with your tits.

They’re soft and pillowy, just the perfect size for his hands to grasp and knead, and the way that you keen for him, jerking a little when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the pebbling bud is utterly captivating. You’re so caught up in the attention he’s paying to your chest that you miss the hand that trails down your side, snaking between your trembling thighs.

At least until long, thick digits swipe along your folds. 

Like a frightened little rabbit, your eyes widen and you jolt into action. “Wakatoshi, stop!” you cry, hands finding his chest once more to try and push him off of you, your legs kicking out uselessly beneath him. 

His expression softens, his thumb sweeping against your thigh in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Shh, it’s okay. I need to prepare you to take me, otherwise it will hurt.”

If anything, your expression only becomes more panicked. “No, no, no, no-”

“Let me take care of my girl. You’ll feel good,” he murmurs, and already his fingers are sliding back to your pussy. You’re not as wet as he’d like, but it’s no matter, as his thumb finds your clit, his other fingers returning to tease at your entrance.

The soft little moan you try and fail to bite back as one finger slides inside of you sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. It twitches and throbs, aching for relief and perhaps if you were anybody else, he might throw caution to the wind and fuck you right then and there, regardless of whether you were ready or not.

But as you shiver, gasping as he curls the thick digit inside of you, he’s reminded that he needs to have patience. You are not worth rushing, and despite the feral beast inside of him that’s snapping and snarling to sink into your heat, he wants to savour this.

You only get one first time, and he’s determined to make yours unforgettable. 

“That’s just one finger,” he tells you, his thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements. “You’re going to take three before I can fuck you properly, understand?”

He doesn’t want to break you in half, after all.

You still writhe beneath him, shaking and jolting as he teases your shining pearl and coaxes your pussy into accepting another finger, and when he lowers his mouth back to your tits to add to the pleasure building inside of you, a sob bursts free.

“Please- please, Toshi!”

A third finger prods at your entrance-

“Please don’t!”

He almost winces at the sharp hiss of pain that escapes you, but he reassures himself that it will only be for a moment. The stretch and burn will give way to pleasure as he fucks them into you slowly. Your pussy is so warm, so tight, sucking the digits in deeper and when rough fingertips brush against a particular spot on your walls and you cry out, Ushijima allows a small, adoring smile to cross his face.

“Good girl,” he purrs, quickening his pace. 

You’ve always been so beautiful to him, but when you cum for him that first time, face flushed and dewy, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try not to scream in pleasure, he doesn’t think there’s anything on earth that could possibly compare.

The same could be said about the way you taste, he thinks, greedily sucking your juices off of his fingers. 

“Wakatoshi,” you beg, lying spent across his bed still reeling from the afterglow of your orgasm as he slides your thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He grunts a little as he wraps his hand around his flushed cock and guides it to your sopping entrance, marvelling at the way you shiver and mewl when he nudges it against your oversensitive clit.

Olive eyes find yours, and he cannot resist leaning down to claim your lips once more as he sinks slowly inside of you.

The sound that escapes him is deep and guttural, but the feel of your warm pussy clenching around his throbbing cock is simply heaven, and he almost - almost - loses control.

Forcing his eyes open, he watches your face as you take his cock, feeling every vein and ridge stretch you out, the pained whimpers that slip from behind clenched teeth. He knows that he’s bigger than average, that his girth is impressive and that even with his foreplay you’re still squeezing around him like a vice, but he forces himself to take it slow, to allow you the time to adjust. 

He almost starts when you reach out to grab him, fingers painfully sinking into the muscles of his forearm as you fight off another wave of tears, so he pauses for a beat, peppering your face with more kisses. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

When your grip eases, he resumes moving, drawing his hips back and trying not to curse at the friction your slick walls are creating. 

“I love you,” he grunts, “so much.”

And then he rocks his hips forward - steadily, filling you up again, allowing you to get used to his girth. He kisses you, trails rough fingertips gently along your skin, teases you finding all the sensitive spots that make you moan for him.

Gradually, he feels you relax around him.

The obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin is drowned out by your soft whines and pants as Ushijima slowly picks up the pace. He fucks you deeply, but not roughly, taking care not to hurt you anymore than necessary.

It’s slow and sensual - your body can’t help but respond to his ministrations, and when you clench around him, sucking him deeper Ushijima can’t help but groan, feeling the tight coil of heat in his core burn as pleasure ripples through him.

He wants more. Needs it.

Ushijima’s hands wrap around your thighs, easing them back towards your chest so that your ankles fall over his broad shoulders. He kisses at your calf when confusion flickers across your face, but doesn’t offer any explanation as he snaps his hips forward once more. The choked scream that leaves your lips is beautiful, but he can barely focus on that when he finally bottoms out, his balls slapping against your ass as another hoarse groan leaves him. 

He promised himself that he would be gentle with you, but as your velvety walls quiver and convulse around him and your lips fall open in another soundless scream as your second orgasm hits, he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

There’s a tightening in his balls and he can feel the tether he has on his control fraying little by little as you moan for him, your hips rocking up to meet his fervent thrusts. You’re beautiful, perfect, and he’s losing himself to the feeling of being buried inside of you. It’s indescribable, the way your pussy’s fluttering around him, clenching and pulsing, kissing his cock with sweltering heat - it feels like the very edges of his sanity are blurring as he fucks himself deeper inside of you, his cockhead hitting your cervix with every thrust. He wants to cum, wants to fill you up with his thick load again and again and again, wants you so full it’s leaking out of you-

It won’t be enough, it’ll never be enough.

He loves you, and Ushijima won’t ever be satisfied again without the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, milking him for every drop that he’s worth.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere ushijima #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tw non con #virgin reader

[sunshineseung]

Journal Finale

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 4.9k 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, milf!reader x dilf!changbin, threesome, blowjob (giving), unprotected PIV (missionary position), breeding/impregnation/pregnancy [end of threesome], protected anal (receiving), more unannounced voyeurism, arguing :(, kissing/making out, nipple play (giving), blowjob (giving) the squeakuel, cum swallowing, slight pussyjob, unprotected PIV (cowgirl position), use of handcuffs, creampie, your usual praise and mild degradation here and there, and the ending :) enjoy~

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

“Jeongin, get over here.” Changbin readied himself at your entrance while Jeongin stumbled over to Changbin. “You’re gonna fuck her pretty face while I take this pussy, got it?”

“Yes, sir!” Jeongin jumped at the command and walked to the top of the bed, running the head of his cock between your lips before you smiled and took him into your mouth. His dick hit the back of your throat as Changbin filled you up, his thick cock making you whine loudly onto Jeongin. “Ah~ mommy!”

“Such a good mouth, huh?” Changbin’s hips are relentlessly thrusting into your sopping cunt while Jeongin desperately bucks into your mouth. “Tight little cunt, too.”

As much as Jeongin wants to say “yeah, I know,” he holds back to keep the peace. Jeongin watching you get fucked while sucking his cock is going to make him cum so much faster than usual, he can already feel it. You just look so gorgeous with your tits bouncing on your chest as you get pounded by Changbin and the drool running down your face from Jeongin’s cock.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy up with my cum. Get you pregnant with my kids.” Changbin groans loudly as his cock rams into you, brushing perfectly against your g-spot. You swear you can see stars when he starts playing with your clit, egging you on even more. “Fuck, you wish this was you, don’t you, Jeongin?”

“Huh?” Jeongin peeks his head up, slowing his pace in your mouth so he can edge himself (and not look like a baby for cumming so soon).

“You wish you were knocking Y/n up, don’t you?” Changbin smiles, staring Jeongin dead in the eyes as he pounds your pussy like he owns it. “Y/n’s gonna be all mine soon enough. Once she has my kids, you’ll be out of the picture.”

“No! Please!” Jeongin’s cock slips out of your mouth, the younger going to push away your other lover. “You can’t take her!”

“You’re too late, Jeongin.” You and Changbin laugh as Jeongin looks down, your belly already bloated as if you’re pregnant. Suddenly, Jeongin feels miles away from the bed, Changbin fucking you from a distance across an indescribable void. He tries to run, but you just keep getting farther. He hears your voice: “Wake up, Jeongin! Wake up!”

🍓🍀🍯.

“Ah~ oh my god…” 

“You like that, baby? Tell me you like it.” 

“Y-yes Changbin, so good.” 

Jeongin slowly opens his eyes, rubbing them before looking at his surroundings. He’s still in the closet… what? Jeongin looks out the crack in the closet door and as if he couldn’t already hear, Changbin’s pounding you from the back. The lighting of the room is hardly bright enough to see the action, but he certainly hears every skin slap, moan, and bed creak. 

“Fuck, your ass is so tight,” Changbin groans hardly over a whisper, the deep growl in his tone making you shiver. His hands gripped your hips tight enough to control your movements, keeping your ass still while he rammed his fat cock into your tight ass, the lube making everything sound extra wet and lewd. 

You dropped your hands to your sides and let your face fall into the bed, turning your head to the side so you could still breathe. The vision of Changbin’s dimly lit body with sweat dripping down his sculpted chest made your cunt throb, as if he hadn’t just been balls deep inside that hole minutes earlier, the used condom still on the floor next to your bed. 

Without warning, you feel Changbin release inside of your ass, his cum being caught in the condom as his pelvis stops thrusting for his body to rest. He moans loudly, your name somewhere in the mix of expletives as he comes down from his second high of the night. You both feel worn out, bodies exhausted from two consecutive rounds of sex. 

Being the gentleman he is, Changbin pulls out slowly and pulls off the condom, picking up the other one from the floor to throw them both into the trash can. As you go to the bathroom, Changbin sits on the edge of your bed and waits for you to return. 

Jeongin’s sweating bullets in the closet. He feels so disgusting for peeping like this, although this was one of his secret fantasies not too long ago. He also can’t help but feel the slightest bit jealous… okay, maybe really jealous. He backs himself into the back of your closet and puts his head into his knees, curling into a ball not to cry but just to pretend he’s anywhere else. 

“Hey, this was fun, but I should get going.” Changbin puts his wrinkled clothes back on as you get out your own pajamas. “I’d be down for a second date.”

“If you’re paying, I’m down for anything.” You both laugh as you take him out to the front door to say goodbye. After a short kiss, he goes out to his car and drives into the fog of the night. Satisfied, you hobble back to your bedroom, pleasantly unaware of the laughable mess going on at your destination.

Jeongin’s face down on your bedroom floor after tripping on the way out of the closet. You hear a loud thud, so you quick check on your daughters, but nothing’s out of the ordinary. Turning the corner into your bedroom, Jeongin’s on the other side of the door, a weak attempt to hide from you.

Of course, when you close the door, you immediately see Jeongin. You jump back and clutch your chest, beyond confused as to why Jeongin’s in your bedroom right now, half naked and shaking like a scared pup.

“Jeongin, what the fuck?!” He’s never heard you so loudly angry since you were on the phone with Minho. Every word gets caught in Jeongin’s throat as he tries to explain why he’s creeping in your bedroom. “I should call the police right now...”

“No! Wait!” Somehow, he’s out of breath without even saying anything. “I can explain.”

“Then go ahead, Jeongin. I’d love to hear your reasoning for snooping around in my room right after... wait, how long have you-“

“I wanted to surprise you, but you brought home someone else, so I just... hid in your closet while you, ya know, did that.” Your jaw hangs open because you’re just unable to believe what you just heard.

“I told you to leave, and yet you felt the need to stay, but not just stay, to hide in my closet and watch me have sex?” You’re tempted to go absolutely feral and beat the shit out of Jeongin, but being the classy lady you obviously are, you hold back. “Give me one good reason why I should let you off the hook for this.”

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just leave. Besides, I... I fell asleep.” Jeongin hangs his head, his hands tightened into fists at his sides.

“You fell asleep?” You’re shocked the little pervert managed to doze off while you were getting the life fucked out of you. “Was the sex really that boring to watch?”

“Nonono! It’s not that! I was just tired... I guess.” Jeongin looks out of your bedroom window and sees his own bedroom, his safety. God how he wishes he were there right now. “I’m sorry! Can we just pretend this didn’t happen?”

“Pre-... Yang Jeongin, this isn’t something we can just brush under the rug!” You pace back into your room, putting your hands to your head to alleviate the sudden stress. You were too focused on what you’re going to say next that you didn’t hear Jeongin’s ‘well we could try’ remark. “This is a breech of privacy!”

“And fucking another guy behind my back is a breech of trust!”

The self control it took you to not wack this boy upside the head was immeasurable. At this rate, you had as much patience as a silent monk.

“I thought I was your only man. How many other guys have you been fucking, huh?” Jeongin thought he had finally gotten you on his side, he really did. He thought he put the jealousy behind him, but now he was heated, but not as heated as you. Oh, not nearly as heated as you.

“I don’t have feelings for you, Jeongin.” You put your foot down. You just stared at the boy, crossing your arms to firmly stand your ground. “This partnership isn’t exclusive. I can fuck whoever I want. I thought I made that clear.”

Jeongin’s shattered. Destroyed. Ruined. Synonyms he can’t think of for right now. You said what he already knew, but he didn’t want to hear it come from your mouth. As explosive as this relationship was, he knew it would eventually blow, just not like this, and definitely not this soon.

“Get out of my house. I want to go to bed.” You turn around, unable to face Jeongin for your own sake. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

When the going gets tough, Yang Jeongin runs the other way. Whenever he stands up for himself, he’s punished for it. All he can do is run. He can’t keep running away.

Jeongin gets dressed in his clothes from earlier and leaves without a word, only a sullen look on his exhausted face. Walking into his own home, no one is there to greet him so late at night. Everyone in his family is asleep, or more likely jarred awake from the random slamming of doors from their lovely Jeongin.

Looking across the way to your bedroom window, the lights are off and the curtain is shut. You’ve likely gone to bed by now after this restful and simultaneously stressful day. Jeongin’s heart aches, but he’s glad you’re getting some rest. He knows how hard it can be recovering from anal.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

As usual, your babysitter arrives at 5pm sharp to watch your kids while you go to work. You wave him a sour goodbye before leaving him with your kids. For once, you’re actually worried if your kids are okay. You’ve always trusted Jeongin with your easygoing daughters, but you can’t trust him anymore. Not after that.

Upon getting home, you see your two daughters running around pretending to be knights and a tired Jeongin laying on your couch being the slain dragon of course. “Welcome home! Sorry, they wouldn’t go to bed.”

“Well, at least you tried.” You put your purse down before wrangling your kids and hustling them into bed, but not before promising to play castles with them in the morning for your day off. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, mommy!” No way was Yang Jeongin going to ruin that word for you.

“So, how was work?” As you walk back into the living room, Jeongin is acting as cool and proper as possible to keep your anger level at a low.

“Let’s talk.” Damnit, the one thing Jeongin wanted to avoid. “Why did you stay last night after I told you to go home?”

“I... I wanted to play.” His cutsie submissive voice is sweet, but very much unwelcomed right now. “I missed you!”

“Cut the shit, Jeongin. I know I should have told you about Changbin, but sneaking around my house is unacceptable.” There you go again, scolding him like a child. Even though he was totally in the wrong here, he couldn’t help but feel bitter from you treating him like a kid. Some things never change. “And you decided to just stay?”

“What the hell else was I supposed to do? You and your man were blocking all the exits!” As right as he is, you refuse to admit defeat so easily. “And I wanted to join in... a little.”

“If Changbin knew you were in that closet, he would have tossed you out of the window. Consider yourself lucky.” You sigh, tossing yourself onto the couch next to Jeongin. “I don’t want to end our relationship like this, but-“

“End? What?” Jeongin’s doe eyes are wide as he jumps up and stares at you, weak in the knees just from the thought of leaving you. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“It’s not just this incident.” You take his hands in yours, rubbing your thumbs over the backs of his hands to comfort him. “This relationship was never meant to go far. We both know that.” Just because you both knew it doesn’t mean Jeongin wanted to accept it. “You deserve better than your old neighbor, and I need to move on to be happy. You deserve a real girlfriend, and my kids deserve a real dad.”

“I can be a great father!” Oh, he’s so desperate. You’ve never seen him so tearful. Your heart stings just seeing him like this. With your hands still intertwined with his, you pull him onto your lap. “Where is all this coming from? You just said the other day that you loved me.”

“I do love you, but not like this.” You can’t look him in the eyes right now. It’ll hurt too much for you both. “We’re just sex partners. That’s all this was ever going to be. Do you honestly think I’d let you become the father of my children?”

That dream. That god damned dream. The images of Changbin and you from his dream are all he sees. Your words sting like knives but they go in one ear and out the other; felt, but not heard.

“Please don’t leave me.” Jeongin can’t hold it anymore. He starts to cry, falling into your shoulder to hide his shame. You just pat his back, clutching him to your body. You didn’t expect him to get this emotional. With how your last breakup went, the crying was your job. “I love you.”

“I know,” you say, giving him plenty of time to calm down. His eyes begin to dry, but his chest is heavy. He feels like the world is collapsing around him. “All of this because I couldn’t mind my business and keep out of your journal.”

Your attempt to lighten the mood does get a chuckles out of Jeongin, but it’s followed by a pause in his breathing and a loud sigh. He backs away from your hug, wiping his cheeks and finally looking you in the eyes. It was now you realized that you haven’t made eye contact with him since you started this conversation.

“Can we do it one more time?” Aaaaaand there goes the eye contact. You fumble over your words, mind jumbled from the unexpected proposition. “And if fucking you vanilla didn’t keep you around, can I be your little boy again?”

The light in his eyes is flickering back. His skin feels warm again. Jeongin’s coming back to you. As much as you want to say no, you couldn’t possibly turn down one last time with your favorite boy. “Of course, baby. One more time.”

“I want to break the bed.” Jeongin hops up, pulling you up by your hands before you can even process what’s going on. You’re tired, he’s tired, but you both want this. This is for the both of you. “Ruin me, mommy.”

"A little demanding, aren’t we?” You turn to lock your bedroom door shut as Jeongin sits on the edge of the bed, eager for whatever you’re willing to give him. After turning down the lights, you push Jeongin back on the bed, his legs still hanging over the edge. Although your body was still recovering from the night before, you’re ready to, as Jeongin so kindly put it, break the bed. 

You set yourself up on Jeongin’s lap, both of you still clothed, and gently grind down onto his crotch. He’s hard as ever, whining as you roll your hips over him. You bite down on your lip to hold your moans, although your partner doesn’t care how much noise he makes. Jeongin’s sure that if he gets too loud, you’ll shut him up. 

“You’re so pretty underneath me, baby.” You lean down to put your hands in his hair, combing through his short hair to cup his cheeks with both of your hands. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” Jeongin huffs. 

“As much as I yell at you, I do want you to know that I enjoy my time with you,” you say with sincerity dripping from your tone. You kiss his lips sweetly, quickly turning the kiss into a heated mess of tongues. His cheeks are warm against your palms. He feels so small, so precious. All yours. When the kiss breaks, you look each other in the eyes for a moment, his eyes sparkling with innocence despite the circumstances. “My lovely little boy.”

Before Jeongin can speak, you dive in for another make out session, this time the kisses leading down from his pretty lips to his defined jawline. As much as you’d love to leave hickeys, you don’t want him to have a reminder of you for the coming days. Your hands rest on his chest over his shirt as you move down to his neck, hearing him whimper and whine above you. 

Your hands slowly move his shirt up to his collarbones, exposing his chest for you to see. When you move down to his chest to play with his nipples, Jeongin throws his head back from the sensation. Your fingers twist his nipple while your mouth keeps busy on the other, sucking at the perk bud. His mind was entirely black, his only thought being how good everything feels. Pulling away from his spit-coated chest, you look down at him like he’s prey. Seeing the look in your eyes, he can feel his dick twitch in his pants. 

“You’re so sexy, mommy.” His voice is light and sweet, his submissive persona finally taking him over. “Need to be inside you.”

“So impatient, tsk.” You stand up from his body and pull him up by his wrists. “Take your clothes off, baby. I can’t touch you if you’re clothed.”

Compliantly, Jeongin quickly strips his body of his clothes, taking his pants and underwear down in one motion after yanking his shirt over his head. Behind him, you’re doing the same, getting naked so the fun can really begin. 

“Aw, so hard for me already.” You walk up to Jeongin and take his cock in your hand, stroking it while maintaining eye contact with him. His little lip bite makes him look so endearing. “You want me to suck you off, sweetheart?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Then beg for it.” You remove your hand from his length and step back, staring at him with your arms folded over your chest. He whines loudly before pouting out his bottom lip.

“Please suck me off, ma’am. Wanna cum down your throat...” his eyes wander to your chest before darting back up to your lips where you hold a hint of a smirk. “Please?”

“What my boy wants, he gets.” You smile as his eyes light up. “Back on the bed, boy. Let mommy take care of you.”

Jeongin hops onto the bed, spreading his legs flat for you to get between. You lay on your stomach between his legs, hands immediately going to stroke his cock and play with his balls. He stares down at you, eyes glued to your face as you stare at the head of his cock. He’s already dripping. So pathetic.

Before taking him fully into your mouth, you run your tongue along the underside of his cock, flicking your tongue against his tip. He bucks his hips up before you wrap your lips around him, bobbing your head around his tip as your hand stays hard at work on his shaft. Jeongin closes his eyes and moans a little too loud for your liking, but your mouth is too busy to scold him.

“Fuck, so nice,” Jeongin whimpers between heavy breaths. He jerks his head back as his toes curl, the pleasure from your mouth becoming too hot to handle. Hollowing out your cheeks, you’re prepared for Jeongin to cum fast. If he’s really frustrated enough to spy on you, then he isn’t lasting long with your mouth on his cock. “M-mommy...”

You pop your mouth off of him, “yes, doll?”

“Please swallow my cum, okay?” Jeongin looks so angelic with the dim light bouncing off of his sweaty skin. “I’m so close.”

Without a word, you get back to business, swirling your tongue around his cock like it’s a lollipop. You can feel him throb in your grip, and his balls start to tense. For one last effort, you remove your hand that was jerking him and take him down your throat, feeling yourself nearly gag from his length.

The sensation becomes too much, and Jeongin cums down your throat, bucking his hips into your mouth while drool escapes the corners of your mouth. Carefully, you pull your head off of him, not dripping too much out of your mouth. Jeongin watches your face with a dazed expression as you swallow his load just as he asked.

“You taste so good every time, pretty boy.” You wipe your mouth of any excess runoff while Jeongin catches his breath, laying with all his limbs extended. “My turn now, isn’t it?”

“Do whatever you want to me.” Jeongin sits up on his elbows, finally able to look at you with his mind fully present. “I’m all yours.”

“You wanted to break the bed, right?” You straddle his hips, cock starting to harden again as he feels you rub his cock through your folds. “Let’s make that a goal, shall we?”

“Oh my god, please.” Jeongin holds your hips and presses his cock up against you, thrusting through the folds of your cunt.

“Hands to yourself, baby.” You take his wrists and hold his hands above his head. “Unless you need some help restraining them.”

“Oh mommy, please handcuff me!” He’s too excited about this. Still, you reach over into your bedside drawer and pull out a pair of leather cuffs, wrapping them through the bed frame before retraining his wrists.

“Much better.” You kiss his lips before leaning back up to ride him. Now that’s he hard again, you raise your hips from his to line his cock with your entrance. “I’m not stopping unless you say something, got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” Jeongin can hardly wait to be inside you again.

You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, letting him stretch you out and fill you up with his length. Your moans are deep and grand, while Jeongin pathetically whines like a bitch in heat. You love it. “Mmm, good boy, Innie. Such a good boy.”

Your praises make him stutter in his whimpers something vaguely resembling a “thank you”. You’ll take what you can get, surprised he can think of anything when he’s this far into his headspace.

You start to ride him, your hips lifting and lowering on his cock. The continuous clenches of your cunt around his dick makes him throb, his chest raising and lowering with every deep breath. His tip runs into your cunt as his shaft drifts against your walls. You feel so full, so good, so fucking good. The only thought on your brain is Jeongin’s cock.

When you speed up your strokes, the bed starts squeaking louder and louder. Between your shared moans and the suggestive bodily noises, you couldn’t be any louder unless you wanted to scare your children awake. Still, you didn’t get this house so well soundproofed for nothing, although that was admittedly Minho’s idea.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Jeongin.” Dropping the pet names for a moment, you let your body go as you feel your orgasm start to near. One of your hands goes down to your clit while your other holds you up, planting firmly next to Jeongin’s head. Your tits are practically in his face, and he can’t help but take a peek. “You think you can cum again for me, baby?”

“Of course, yes! Please let me cum.” Jeongin struggles against the restraints, totally forgetting they’re even there, in an attempt to wrap his arms around you. His hips buck up into you as you slowly stop your motions and let him fuck you. Hitting your g-spot so effortlessly, you tighten around him as your orgasm washes over you.

While listening to you curse through your orgasm, Jeongin relentlessly pounds into you from underneath, jutting his hips up just enough to make you lose your mind. With your cunt convulsing around his dick, Jeongin can’t hold it in anymore. As you come down, he cums up into you, fucking his release into you for as long as he can before his legs go weak and he stops, you gently lowing into him before falling into his chest, kissing the nearest skin to your lips.

Suddenly, the room feels gloomy. You both know the goodbye is coming. Neither of you are ready. Being the mature on, you stretch your arms from around him and sit up, ending this sensual moment.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You lift yourself off of him, holding your legs together to keep the mess from dripping down your legs. “There’s tissues next to you if you want to clean up.”

Jeongin soberly takes a tissue and cleans off the mess between his legs, wishing this wasn’t the last time he’d have to clean himself up in your bed. One last time, he turns to his side and sniffs your pillow, an oddly nostalgic feeling washing over his senses. He’ll miss this.

You come out of the bathroom with a robe around you. Jeongin’s still lying on the bed collecting his thoughts. You look at each other. His smile is so pure. He’s happy just to see you.

“Thank you for everything, Jeongin.” You walk over to where he lays and kiss him on his forehead. His cheeks flush pink, but he stops smiling. He knows what’s coming. “You should go.”

“Does this mean I’m also fired?” You nod at his question, and now Jeongin’s double disappointed. “Did you enjoy tonight?”

“As much as I could.” You look around at the clothes scattered on the ground before picking up Jeongin’s underwear and handing them to him. “You should head home. It’s late.”

Jeongin takes his underwear out of your hand, and now he’s red with embarrassment. He gets dressed as you walk back to the living room to get his bookbag so he can walk out as easily as possible.

“Bye, Jeongin. I’ll see you around I guess.” This is so much more awkward than you intended. You’re waving goodbye as he walks down your driveway, but he isn’t even looking at you. When he turns back to his house, you see him wave his entire arm towards you.

“Bye Ms. L/n! Thank you!” His yell is so cute. You can’t help but smile before walking back into your house to finally go to bed.

Walking into his silent house, Jeongin runs up to his room to finally be at peace. He tosses his bag towards his bed before sitting against his door with his head in his hands. He isn’t crying (he already did that). He’s decompressing. That’s what he’s calling it, anyway.

Looking at his desk, that’s where it sits. That fucking journal. The thing that got him into this mess. The omen that’s been haunting him since that night. Jeongin can hardly look at the black and white marbled pattern. As nice as he thought his writing was in that book, he can’t have it anymore. The clusterfuck that his journal represented was too much to handle. It’s time to move on.

🍓🍀🍯.

Jeongin: Hey sorry it’s late can I use your fire pit tomorrow night?

Seungmin: Wtf why?

Jeongin: Long story. I just need to burn something.

Seungmin: Should I invite the others?

Jeongin: Sure let’s make it a party

Seungmin: I expect a full explanation tomorrow, alright?

Seungmin: I don’t just light up the fire pit for anyone.

Jeongin: Thank you

Seungmin: Anything for you bro :)

Jeongin: omg don’t call me bro you’ve been hanging with Felix too much

Seungmin: Is it really that obvious?

Seungmin: Damn 😔

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

“Do it! Do it!” Jeongin’s friends were chanting behind him, eager to see the youngest burn his notebook. Jeongin looked down one last time at the journal before tossing it into the open flame and watching the fire burn higher and brighter. He steps back into Felix who holds him by his waist, pulling him into a back hug.

“Fuck yeah!” Jisung raises his beer in the air and turns up the music with his phone. Hyunjin and Jisung go dance on the patio while Seungmin tends to the fire. “Woo! Jeongin’s free!”

“I’m proud of you, Jeongin.” Felix turns him around, bringing him into a regular front hug. “I don’t know the whole story, but I’m glad you moved passed whatever was getting you down, man.”

“I’m not over it yet, but this sure did help.” Jeongin looks back at the fire before faintly smiling. “Let’s go drink.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” The Aussie in Felix is eager to grab a beer like the rest and loosen up, Jeongin joining his hand in the cooler. Seungmin smiles as he looks over his friends, all smiling and singing to a song from 2009. “Min, ya joining?”

“I’d rather not burn my house down. I can sing from over here.” They all cheer before continuing to sing their childhood classic.

For the first time in forever, Jeongin’s thinking of something other than you. He’s happy. Let him be happy.

taglist: @binnie-m00n​​ @sparklysung​​ @starsareseen​ @sailorhyunjinz​ @gothicstay​​ @vogueinnie​ @mariannaab​ @spilledtee 

Thank you for reading this series and supporting my writing!!! This has been a really fun series to write and I’m glad so many people enjoyed it :) Again, thank you!

#kpopcatalog #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #i.n smut

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi 💜💜 i got a prompt about ian x body image a while ago (my inbox is a hot mess and i may have deleted the prompt lol, but i did paste it into my phone notes)- and i was feeling some feelings today & had some spare time amidst my travels & ended up writing this!!

prompt: can you write about ian and his relationship with his body image, esp post-canon when they move to the westside

(tw for body image/eating disorder/food mentions)

--

He didn’t really even think about it the first times that he did it— skipping a few meals that went unnoticed in the morning clamor of the Gallagher kitchen. He noticed his skin growing tauter and tighter around his abdomen with every passing day, a hollow absence sitting like a rock in the pit of his stomach.

He did it for a reason—he’d been getting more lingering looks under the flashing lights at the club, more unwelcome fingers pressed against the now-present ridges on his stomach, tracing his toned upper arms. The less there was of him, the more they wanted him.

The thing about Ian is that he was always disciplined; the middle child, the one who was overlooked and ignored and blended in until he decided that he had to make a name for himself. He and Lip and gotten into hair-tugging, jaw-smashing fights about this very reality; Ian was completely, totally, absolutely ordinary. Until he made himself extraordinary—until he burst through the storefront labeled “ARMY” at a strip mall with smudged windows and said with a tall chest: I want to enlist.

Everything had led up to this— every push-up on the creaking slanted floor of their childhood bedroom, every jog at the crack of dawn. He was going to make something of himself, he was going to be a hero.

He was going to get the fuck away from Mickey, and his wife, and whatever else kept pushing him down and holding him back.

When Ian came back from the army, when he was sleeping on exposed floorboards and working at the club all night—that was when it all actually started. When he decided that less of him meant more—when he decided that he should give people the best show he could, because everything else was fucked up anyways. This was all he was good for.

But then Mickey came through the door, pale skin flashing in the strobe lights, wearing that fucking dark button-up with sleeves folded to his forearms and smelling like nice cologne that he’d almost definitely stolen from one of his brothers’ bathroom shelves; and for a brief moment after the initial shock set in, Ian was proud— proud of how much negative space surrounded him, proud of how he could press his thighs into stretched golden spandex better than any of the other men thrumming to the beat beside him on the podium. Proud of how much other people wanted him, when Mickey didn't.

It was only later, after Mickey carried him home (easily, too easily) after he’d passed out in a snowbank, and Ian had woken and waited for Mickey to burst into his bedroom door at the Gallagher house while he leaned against the wall and scribbled on a notepad— later, when Mickey was about to curl on the floor and sleep using one of Liam’s balled-up t-shirts as a pillow— that Ian noticed Mickey’s eyes lingering on his uncovered torso, a second longer than the quick glances of admiration from the well-dressed men with greased-back hair and grubby fingers at the club. It hit Ian, then, when he saw Mickey’s gaze that was soft around the edges, the same fuzziness and confusion of Fiona’s stares when he would chatter on for too long in the mornings:

He’s worried about me.

But Mickey played along— Ian was back, and Mickey stayed beside him this time, and chuckled when he walked down the stairs to the sight of Ian cutting off the bottom half of his old ROTC pants, now multiple sizes too big and hanging baggy even at the hips. Mickey curled beside him on the twin bed, silently stroking hair back from his forehead and cradling his cheeks with a feather-light touch as Lip and Liam’s even, sleeping breaths swirled around them. And Ian kept doing pull-ups, and told Carl that he liked the way that Mickey smelled. Mickey came out for him. And for a while things were really, really fucking good, and Ian didn’t even think about the gnawing hollow feeling in his stomach at all any more.

Until a grey morning came, quick and silent, and kept him frozen under the sheets for days.

In the months afterwards, Ian trained harder, faster—he met up with Fiona as she pushed Liam in the stroller and jogged beside them, ran before and after shifts at the club, did push-ups on Mickey’s grimy floor while he was out handling Rub N’ Tug shit.

I’m not Monica. This wasn’t going to happen again. His body could do this. His body could fix his brain.

It couldn’t.

Most of what happened on the “road trip” with Yevgeny (that was the only phrasing that Ian could really mentally use to name the incident, the only semiotic filler for “kidnapping” that didn’t want to make him burrow even deeper under his tattered blankets) was a blur—Mickey feeding him fistfuls of pills and room-temperature Gatorade, luring Mickey to the dugouts where he tried to do a pull-up and felt a quivering in his limbs, a weakness rather than a familiar and fulfilling burn. Slamming Mickey in the face with a fist that was too flimsy, too weak—a fist that still left the blooming of a bruise on Mickey’s jawline, a splatter of blood caking into his eyebrow. But still weak, still not enough. Definitely not strong enough to fight off two MPs with loaded guns, tangling his hands behind his back and forcing him into the backseat of a car.

More blurry days— on the road with Monica. Breaking up with Mickey. Getting a job at Patsy’s. Withering away, purple bags sagging under his eyes. Becoming less, always less.

Then, a glimmer of light— he met Caleb. He studied to be an EMT. He got a call from Mandy, got to wrap her in his arms in less-than-ideal circumstances.

“I got tired of starving myself to fit in that golden thong.”

It was the first time he’d said it out loud.

He started to run again—and he started to not miss it, the hollow feeling gnawing at his insides, the twisting lack. He met Trevor, he went to brunches, he ordered mimosas and muffins and kept himself in shape, but didn’t push himself too far.

So it surprised him, really, when once again his body and mind weren’t in sync.

That was the biggest thing he’d think about, in the idle hours of he and Mickey’s prison cell, months later—that for once in his life, years after the nights at the club or the hazy early mornings at Patsy’s or in a baggy janitor uniform, he was actually doing really, really fucking good. He had a following. He was strong. Or at least he thought he was.

But something about being near Mickey pulled him out of his head and into his body, centered him— it always did. Mickey had always liked his body; Ian remembered how Mickey’s eyed at lingered that night at the dugouts, when they were two kids doing pull-ups and Mickey watched his muscles clench in the moonlight, two sets of shining eyes and bodies warm with beer leaning closer to each other in the muggy air. But Ian never felt a need to flaunt his body, or change his body, for Mickey— and in so many ways, those first days in prison were like his body was coming home. Sometimes it was hard, and fast, and filthy words whispered into each other’s skin—and sometimes it left them grasping for breath in an entirely different way, in fingertips lazily skimming over collarbones and fisted into roots of hair, of breathed “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful”s escaping Mickey’s parted mouth that Ian mentally stored but never brought up again, because he knew in the best case scenario Mickey would just roll his eyes and call him a “soft bitch,” and in the worst he would just flat-out deny it. But Ian felt balanced in a way he hadn't in months, with all the "Gay Jesus" bullshit pressing in. He took his meds, he did his nightly sit-ups, he counted down the days—until the hourglass was slipped out from under his fingertips and he was teleported back to the Gallagher house, back to the place where so much of this began and so much was about to end.

The hollowness, the hunger, didn’t really need to be there anymore once he was out— it was only a dull murmur. A ghost, a memory trapped in dreams of strobe lights and prying hands.

Mickey got out, and they got married—and in the moments before Ian called Mickey an “ugly motherfucker” as he let a smile crack onto his face—and he knew Mickey felt it, knew Mickey heard: I have never known anyone as beautiful as you.

And Ian’s fullness just kept blooming and compounding and radiating after the wedding; they fought, and then they didn’t, and it didn’t matter anyways because they were fucking married. Ian kept doing sit-ups before they went to bed, even though he felt like he didn’t really have to anymore. Something big had shifted; something had settled and given way, had filled in all the cracks.

So he’s surprised, when they move to the West Side, and that feeling starts to stir again; faint, fuzzy, like some sort of invasive and shapeless amoeba in the dark corners of his brain, whispering and hissing that there should be less of him. On their first morning in the new place he heads to the gym, wearing a camo t-shit that covered his torso and shoulders—and of course he ends up making a fool of himself next to some guy, some guy that he could have been, with sweaty toned abs and bronzed skin and rippling muscles. He doesn’t know why it gets to him, that small interaction—he’s so much happier now, so fucking happy he’s buzzing with it, but there’s also something churning in the faultlines of transition; that aching for hollow absence and stretched skin and interested eyes, that feeling that made him woozy and lightheaded as a kid but also sickeningly proud, like every moment of standing tall, of dancing, of staying alive was a statement, a challenge, a test of how much he could push his ability to be desired.

He immediately pushes the thought down. He doesn’t fucking need that anymore to keep his head above water; he’s stable, he’s loved, he’s fed. He’s growing organic tomatoes, and definitely developing a farmer’s tan from his days hunched over their way-too-tiny community garden plot tenderly watering and pruning the vines and brambles. He is desired. So it doesn’t make fucking sense that the hunger, the clawing in his stomach for the absence, doesn’t really stop.

**

“Okay Gallagher, spill.”

Ian felt his eyebrow raise instinctively at Mickey’s tone. “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at this fancy fucking chicken thing you made for, like, twenty minutes. Stop staring at it and eat your goddamn dinner.”

He felt a twist in his gut. I don’t want to.

“M’actually not really that hungry.”

Mickey’s eyes narrowed. “The fuck’s up? You stressed about work shit?”

Ian huffed out a breath of relief. “Nah. It’s not that.” He fiddled with his fork on the plate, drawing lines into the sauce pooled under the tomato-basil chicken he’d made. It was healthy, it was good, he’d worked out today; he could stomach a couple bites of dinner if he fucking had to. He just had to work up to it. Even the smell was making his stomach twist— it had smelled good while he was cooking it, placing fresh-scented basil leaves into the simmering sauce, but now it just was too much.

Mickey’s boot nudged against his calf from under the kitchen island. “Ey. Is it a tired thing? Or a… sick thing?” His eyes darted to their kitchen cupboard, where Ian kept his meds on the bottom shelf by the water glasses. “Or, like, a food thing?”

Ian felt his fingers go slack around his fork. “A food thing?”

“Yeah, man, y’know. When you get all weird about food.”

A tightness in his chest. “What the fuck? I don’t get weird about food.”

Mickey’s eyes flickered to meet his—and Ian would have gotten more pissed off if he didn’t see the soft concern bleeding into Mickey’s gaze, how cautiously Mickey was trying to broach the topic. Ian blew out a breath. Of fucking course Mickey noticed this shit— he always did.

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re usually good, especially compared to when you were fucking starving yourself when we were kids. But, uh… I don’t know.” Now it was Mickey’s turn to play with his food, scraping his fork along the remnants of sauce on his plate that was nearly clean. “You got kind of weird about working out and shit in prison. And then at the house, with all the quarantine bullshit the first few weeks. Eating fuckin’ cereal all the time, then not eating at all. You’ve been normal since then, or whatever. Lookin’ healthy.” Ian felt Mickey’s gaze drag over him. “Just don’t want you getting stressed out and not eating again or whatever.”

Ian felt a muted warmth blooming in the hollow of his stomach, filling in the cracks of where the jagged feeling continued to claw. If it was anyone else laying out this fucking analysis of his habits Ian would’ve gotten defensive—or at the very least annoyed, that someone was pinning down yet another one of his behaviors, putting them under a fucking clinical microscope.

But of course, this was Mickey— and the difference with Mickey was that he cared, he cared so much that it made Ian’s body ache every time he realized it. Those words wouldn’t have come tumbling out of Mickey’s mouth if they hadn’t been building for a while, hadn’t been gnawing away at some corner of his mind over time.

Ian raised a hand over the table to clasp into Mickey’s warm palm—reaching over the empty plate, the plate of uneaten food.

“It’s, uh. A food thing.”

Mickey’s eyes met his—open, listening.

“You’re right about all the starving myself shit from forever ago. And the not eating. And the… quarantine stuff. I guess I just thought that now that things were good, it’d go away? And I feel so fucking good right now. But sometimes I just have weird days.”

Mickey huffed out a breath. “I fucking know you do, dumbass. M’just saying that I notice that shit. And we can figure it out.”

Ian felt the corner of his mouth tick upwards. “I really thought it was gonna go away. I’m a fucking adult.”

Mickey shrugged. “Sometimes shit doesn’t work like that, Gallagher.” He chugged a sip of water from his glass, apparently glad that this heavier part of the conversation was over now that he knew what was up. “It’s like what you tell me about my shit with Terry. Trauma doesn’t just magically fucking disappear.”

Trauma. He’d never really thought about it like that before—he had plenty of childhood shit to work through, between abandonment and raging mental illness; and he’d never really thought that his body image issues made the list.

But maybe they did— maybe this was another wound, one that he could learn to heal.

Mickey kicked his shin under the table. “There’s cereal and stuff in the cabinet, I got the Fruit Loops shit you like. Want me to wrap up the chicken and shove it in the fridge?”

All he could do was nod— and once again feel that warmth on his insides that Mickey was this good, that he knew how to make shit like this easier.

And he snuggled into the couch beside his husband, a bowl of soggy cereal in his hands.

#idrk what this is but i wrote it at LIGHTNING speed #can u tell that i reached the destination of my childhood home & am having lots of thoughts and feelings about body image LOL #i was like !!! i have a prompt about this #love u all xoxo #gallavich #shameless #shameless fic #gallavich fic #gallavich fanfiction #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ixm #tw eating disorder #tw food mention #tw ed #tw body image

[retrogalwrites]

Touya Todoroki x Natsuo’s bride! Reader

Title: “Just say I do” / view on ao3

Summary: Yours and Natsuo's wedding day finally arrives, and Touya wants to see the bride in private.

Sequel to my previous fic "Fool me once, then again and again." I recommend reading that fic first but this can be read as an stand alone

Warnings & Contents: Dubcon, cheating, cuckolding, spanking, masochism, blackmail, breeding, impregnation fetish, creampie, bastard touya

Words:1857

The Todoroki household hadn't seen such a frantic day in a long time, but it was to be expected that yours and Natsuo's wedding day was going to be a rather elaborate event. As soon as the sun was out, everyone was up and about with the wedding preparations, fuzzing over the venue, the cake, the banquet, the dress, every minuscule detail mattered to a family of prestige.

You weren't allowed to see Natsuo until the time of ceremony came, all for tradition's sake of course. Keeping you away of your groom, his mother and sister insisted on staying by your side to get you all ready and perfect for such an important moment of your life, it made you happy to feel like part of their family already. Rei did your makeup while Fuyumi dressed you up, and the sight you made in your wedding dress was one to behold.

Everything was perfect, more than you could've asked for. It was not the privilege and opulence of a wedding planned by the Todoroki family that mattered at all, it was marrying the man of your dreams.

Your heart only longed to see the face of your beloved Natsuo as soon as possible.

But there was someone else who also couldn't wait to see you either.

It only took the moment Rei and Fuyumi had left the room for Touya to weasel his way in without being noticed. Locking the door behind himself, you already knew what he wanted, what he always wanted.

"Are you kidding me? Touya, you can't do this today..."

Your voice was soft, pleading, yet you knew better than to really put up a fight against him.

"Aww, c'mon sugartits, don't be like that."

He was all dressed up too, a black dress shirt with a grey vest that made him look absolutely stunning, and you deeply hated yourself for thinking that. He grinned at you, rolling back the cuffs of his shirt up to his elbows.

"You're going to be off to who knows where by tomorrow, I just want to say goodbye." He was talking about your honeymoon, of course, because you and Natsuo would be taking a week long trip to Hokkaido, which meant that you were not going to be accesible to Touya until then. "You look like a fluffy cupcake, sugartits. All pretty, and dolled up for me."

"This is not for you. God, get over yourself." You snapped at him, but like always Touya was simply amused by your most angry reactions.

"Hey, calm down. You should learn to take a compliment, if I like it then your cute baby groom will love it as well." It was the cheapest way to get you to submit, using Natsuo against you to remind you that Touya had the power to destroy everything the two of you had built.

"Touya, please..."

As an attempt it was useless perhaps, but not trying at least that much would only make you feel guilty for what you knew was coming. He made his way to you, the outline of his already hard cock straining the front of his pants was clearly visible. You hated how your body always reacted to the sight of his cock, knees trembling and crumbling in weakness.

"I mean it, you look so fucking hot right now." Soon enough his arms were around you, he held you in his arms in a tight grip that crushed you against his larger frame. Touya leaned down to kiss you hard, there never was a warning for those things when I came to him. Lips crashing against yours with his pierced tongue already forcing itself between your teeth and into the heat of your mouth.

The lithe muscle eagerly fucked your mouth hole, sloppily mixing your spit with his, almost passing it back and forth, while one of his hands had hastily pulled down the top of your dress, spilling your tits bare for him. Touya was quick to grope one of your supple breasts, roughly kneading the soft mound and digging his fingers into the skin, hard enough to make you squirm and cry softly at the pain. A sound he devoured straight from your mouth as he kept on sloppily kissing you.

You banged your palms against his chest to demand he give you a chance to breathe.

Pulling back, the lipstick that had been so carefully applied on you was smeared all over Touya's lips, which stretched into a wicked grin as he amusedly looked down at your pouting expression.

"You're ruining my makeup, asshole. "

"Right, right, my bad." He was not sorry at all.

Even through the frills and lace of your dress, you could feel his erection poking at your crotch with needy anticipation, and you found yourself quickly pushed towards the opulent vanity where Rei had done your makeup earlier.

Your upper body was pushed down on the furniture's flat surface, eyes facing the mirror on it, while Touya seized your hips with his large hands and forced your perky ass to stay up, pushing back all the layers of the dress to finally bare your backside to his hungry gaze. Touya greedily palmed the supple roundness of your ass cheeks. It was pathetic, how you were hopelessly trying to gather some of your broken pride to talk back, when the only thing in your mind was the feeling of Touya's still clothed cock rutting against your pussy, it was driving you crazy.

"Shit, what kinda whorish bride wears stuff like this, huh? You're such a slut." He hissed, fingers hooked to the elastic around the waist, quickly pulling your panties down to your thighs. Touya whistled, pleased with the sight of your wet, puffy folds. "Natsuo is a lucky man."

"Shut up."

"Hey, if we hadn't broke up, do you think you'd be my bride instead right now?" He sighed, something earnest about the longing in his words made you sick. "Would you've liked that? If I had proposed back then?"

"Touya, that's enou—"

 SMACK

The sound of his hand spanking your ass was loud, horribly loud.

 SMACK

The stinging pain shooting through your whole body had your back arching beautifully, toes curling inside your expensive high heels.

 SMACK

The skin of your ass had already become red and raw, it hurt so much, it hurt so good. You muffled your cry by bitting down your lower lip, but only barely, your quivering voice called his name like a cursed word.

But instead of a response, the only thing you heard was Touya unbuckling his belt, and you braced yourself for what was coming. Without any sort of warning, he angled the supple head of his throbbing, erect cock into your hole, before burying himself deep into the snug fit of your tight pussy. The intrusion was sudden, violent, with him balls deep inside you there was no way you could keep yourself from moaning out loud.

"Ahhh...!"

"Shiiiit...baby..." Touya groaned, mouth open and eyes shut in a blissful expression. Your pussy was just so perfectly shaped for his cock, your slipper walls tight around him like a form fitting fleshligth. He couldn't wait to start moving his hips, fingers gripping your ass as he drilled himself into your welcoming hole. He groaned low and almost feral when he pounded you from behind.

The soft smack of his balls against your bare cunt and the strained moans coming from your trembling lips were almost deafening in your ears. With every thrust, you could feel him hit that spot so deep inside you, that spot he knew better than anyone else, even better than your beloved Natsuo, and you hated him for it, hated yourself for it.

"Heh...you're making such a lewd face right now, you fucking whore." His voice was low and shaky, breath steaming agains your exposed neck as he leaned over to press his chest against your back. "That's right, even now you're nothing but my little whore." A dark chuckle just as his arms wrapped around your frame, hips still thrusting relentlessly into your cunt.

"Shit, you're squeezing my cock so hard..." Touya planted an open kiss on your shoulder. "You like being fucked by another man while your groom is out there, don't ya?"

"S-Shut up!! Please...stop talking...ahhh...and f--ah!!"

It was like begging to be pitied, to ask for respect while moaning every time his cock scrapped your insides into his shape. You covered your face with your hands, the soft fabric of your satin gloves pressed against your eyes desperately trying to block your sight of the mirror, did not want to see the reflection of Touya fucking you raw while you were supposed to be getting ready for your own damn wedding.

Salty tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks, and it took all of your will power to keep yourself from crying.

"If you get pregnant, who do you think will be the father?"

Your body was burning with pleasure, so close to your orgasm.  

"Stop it...please stop it..."

"Is it bad that I hope it'll be me?"

As he said that, or perhaps because he said it, your walls clamped around his cock as you came, your body trembling and shaking against Touya's. He hissed against your ear, and you felt the scorching warmth of his cum shooting straight into the entrance of womb, coating your walls in sticky white.

Touya kept trusting himself into you as he came, as if to push his cum as deep as he could inside you. His words on wanting you to get pregnant by him still ringing in your ears, filling you with am indescribable despair, as well as shameful thrill.

"Let's get you cleaned, before my dad comes looking for me."

Looking at yourself in the mirror then, turned into a mess in your wedding dress, tears finally started streaming down your face.

You heard the shutter of a camera going off, looking over your shoulder you saw Touya holding his phone, as he took pictures of your abused hole stuffed with cum.

"I'll need something to remember you by while you're on that honeymoon."

"Go fuck yourself, Touya."

He chuckled, careless as ever, unbothered by your rage and pain, as ever. After a pause, while he tucked himself back into his pants and you fixed your dress, he asked almost absent minded.

"So, do you think you'll get pregnant from this?"

"Shut up."

"Do you think it'll be mine?"

You didn't reply.

————

Watching you and Natsuo standing by the altar while exchanging vows was terribly dull, more that words could express. And Touya couldn't help himself from drifting to his phone, disregarding the angry glare his father sent his way from his seat a few rows ahead.

Opening his image gallery, he displayed on the screen the picture of your abused sex with his cum, eyes fixated on it, he could feel himself getting hard again.

A satisfied smile on his face, crooked and sadistic, as he heard your voice saying.

 "I do."

#touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #dabi thirst #tw dubcon #tw cheating

[idesofrevolution]

Black Leather

Sorry, I just have been in weird headspace yet again. But whatever we have a story, yay... By the way, I’m slightly inebriated so if there are typos, GENTLY DM me and I will fix them later or whatever. My boozy demeanor may also explain my very... colorful language on this one. Don’t be too offended. Wahhhhh

It was a dark and stormy night... Nah, I’m fuckin with ya. It was a pretty clear night, actually. A Friday night to be specific, and after a long couple of hours in my old office, I have to say, it was a fuck shit day. All in all, after doing a solid 12 hours behind my computer screen under the dim light of a flickering fluorescent bulb, I’d felt as if I had earned a drink or two. Every now and again I’d go out with a few work friends to grab a Vodka Soda or two, but ever since we’d moved office spaces across town, our watering hole was a little too far out of the way. I found myself going out alone that particular evening, when I came across the Raw Hide.

The moment I walked through the door into the bar, dimly lit with a scarlet red light, I knew that this wouldn’t be the same experience I’d been used to. The cement floors were dirty and littered with wet napkins and questionable puddles, the wallpaper was literally peeling off of the walls, the bartender was wearing only a leather vest with assless chaps... But at the end of the day, Svedka is still Svedka, and if I was lucky, he’d be heavy handed.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender spoke with a slightly slurred, but gruff timbre. I coughed out my Vodka Soda order and sat down on the barstool, pulling my phone out to hopefully avoid making eye contact with the other various patrons. Yet, past all the beasts of men clad in harnesses and netting was one single guy in the back booth. Couldn’t have been older than his mid twenties, and he sat there in the booth by himself, sipping on a Jameson on the rocks. The bartender placed my drink on the Miller Lite coaster on the bar and walked away, but my eyes did not break with the kid in the corner. That dark brunette hair, and deep abysmal eyes... Something felt different... Off... Wrong... And yet, so inviting, alluring, intriguing...

He raised a single eyebrow, and nodded toward the door. Completely lost in his gaze, I’d forgotten entirely about the drink sitting on the bar. I trotted along past booths of laughing bears and drunk twunks, until I met the mysterious man at the back door. He pushed it open, holding it with his arm. I walked outside, catching the subtle scent of aged leather, pomade, and masculine musk as I brushed past him. He followed and the door shut on it’s own. Out in the back alleyway, he leaned against the metal garage door, pulled out an American Spirits cigarette, and lit it with a mischievously intense glance. He offered me one, and not wanting to lose whatever semblance of interest he had in me, I obliged.

“What’s yer name, kid?” The man’s voice was relatively high pitched, but gruff and scratchy. I stammered, tripping not over words, but the very letters that build them. I couldn’t even give an audible response. “Heh, yer smitten. That’s what I thought.” He took a drag off of the cigarette, and smirked at me. He knew exactly the hold he hand on me, and I was powerless to prevent it; though it was not my intention nor desire to protest. “The name’s Westie, short for Weston. And his name is Nicky.” He pointed behind me at the second greaser I hadn’t even noticed had crept up behind me. I turned my head, feeling the heat of his close body looming over me.

Nicky was considerably bigger than me: height, muscles, hands, feet, chest... bulge... He stared at me with that bad boy smoulder one would expect from a rough and tumble “Rebel without a Cause.” I could smell the musk from his well worn ribbed beater shirt, and the greasy oil-stained harness boots; it was intoxicating. He gripped my chin between his thumb and finger, turning it to examine it.

“Yeah, Nicky is a picky guy. I had to bring him someone that would be a good fit for him, ya know? Though it’ll be one hell of a tight squeeze.” Westie laughed as Nicky got handsy with me. Pinching and prodding, even going so far as grope my growing bulge, not once breaking eye contact with me, nor budging from that scowlesque smoulder. His touch was rough, and not just in referencing the callouses on his meaty hands. His gropes, his pokes, everything was assertive and firm. Again, though I couldn’t protest, I didn’t want to... Everytime those rugged, jagged fingers ran across my skin, I wanted it even more. Nicky looked me over one last time, then turned to Westie with a single, apathetic nod. “Aight, boys, let’s make it happen.”

Westie flicked his lighter, and lit the cigarette that had sat between my lips unlit this entire time. I took a drag, but only got a small puff before it was pulled away by Nicky. My back now to him, I heard him inhale deeply, and a puff of smoke blew right past my head. I closed my eyes, as I felt Nicky’s breath on the back of my neck, his hands and leatherclad arms slowly wrapping themselves around my waist. His supple lips planted themselves on my lower neck, slowly and sensually kissing me. His arms raised from my waist, slowly rising to my chest, pulling into a tight hug. I felt the throbbing from his growing bulge against my behind, as he started to grind against me.

With every shallow breath, I could taste the smoky flavor of Nicky’s hot breath. I could smell the sweaty, dirty musk radiating from beneath his heavy leather jacket. I could feel his body pushing against mine... Or rather, into mine. Too caught up in the sensory overload he had given me, I didn’t see that the tip of Nicky’s firm pecs had begun to sink into my back. It was the pressure, the weirdest sensation of some gelatinous form pushing into me, through me, past my skin, my bones, my lungs and muscle. I could only moan in absolute euphoria as I felt his chest push out from beneath my skin. It was only then that I caught a glimpse of my corruption, my new physique, I glanced down to see two, meaty, thick slabs of pectorals where mine used to be. Nicky’s stained, smelly tank slithered across my torso, covering the popping abs that began to protrude from my stomach.

His entire upper body was submerged into mine, and my skin was struggling to accommodate him. I could hear the elastic stretches as his arms and hands were snaking their way from beneath my new abs up toward my shoulders. I knew where they were going and I was helpless, or rather delighted, to feel his thick biceps and manly hands slip my arms on like a pair of gloves. Our arms flexed their strong muscles beneath the worn leather sleeves of the sweaty old jacket. I could hear him laugh a little bit, and sigh in his own waves of endorphins. He put our hands onto my groin, unzipping my chinos and pulling down my boxers. His own pants followed quickly, his heavy, thick uncut snake closed in on my eager hole before plunging in. I gasped at his girth stretching me open, but after I felt his balls slap against my cheeks, the pain was gone. He just kept pushing forward until his balls were slurped into my body along with his crotch. Our hands grasped my erect cock, and I watched with bliss as his longer, thicker, bigger dick slipped into mine. It stretched malleably, as if he were thrusting into a pocket pussy, before it stretched lengthwise out and his hefty balls fell into mine, dropping substantially.

We both let out a cry of enrapturing pleasure, and he slammed his head into the back of mine. Things were blurry, as if I were experiencing a severe headrush. Dizziness, fuzziness, immense pressure, and then, clarity. Still grasping and now pumping our cock with one hand, we brought our second to our face, pulling the skin to adjust our combined visages. The skin snapped tightly against our new face, but the skin would remain elastic. His tongue thrusting into mine, we opened our mouth and took our first breath. Looking down, our legs the only unmerged part remaining.

We took off Nicky’s boots; hot, wet, heavy musk poured from the weathered opening. As his wet, socked toes began to push against the heel of the man I used to be, they slid effortlessly past the skin. Recalling that Nicky’s favorite part of the merging process was in fact the feet, we happily obliged, bringing the boot to our face and inhaling the rank, ripe funk of it’s cavernous confines. We felt the dank, sticky, yellowed socks wrap around our increasingly growing feet, his toes slipping into mine and wriggling with one last loud schlorp... We were now... me.

I blew my load, more than enough for two virile young men. There, in the dim light of the back alleyway, in a massive puddle of my hot, sticky cum I stood. Westie clapped, the wet stain of his own massive load adorning the front of his jeans. He walked towards me, and slapped my back. To him, I am and will always be Nicky. After all, as I slipped my deliciously ripe boot back onto my cum-soaked socked foot, I smiled. The police only know what Nicky ‘used’ to look like, they don’t know the NEW Nicky that you now know before you. Letting Westie sniff the other boot, one of a pair which had outlasted dozens of other Nicky’s before me, I knew that the one smell of consistency that we both enjoyed would continue on. Long after even the next... iteration of me is created and merged forward. As is the way we do things. And now that you know... Well... I’m sure you’re happy to know we’ll be heading your way soon. Very. Soon.

There ya go. Mergy, musky, greasy greasers. Coming next is going to be the creation of a new long term character, a collaborative effort with @floppyderp that we’re both very excited to unveil. If you liked it, PLEASE consider giving to my tip jar. Click on THIS LINK to toss me a few quid.

#male possession #male merging #male transformation #takeover #musk #smelly #feet #greaser #badass transformation #boots #leather #badboy #minionization #original

[hockeyisit]

One where Auston cries in front of Amelia for the first time

- One where Auston cries of sadness in front of Amelia for the first time, I don’t know the scenario or what happen but it would be lovely

A.N. Hi so I got two request for this one. I struggled to come up with a reason why Auston would cry so I hope this was good! Also sorry if any of my information about Auston’s family is wrong but I don’t really know much about his family. Hope you like it!

“Babe,” I called out as I pushed my way into Auston’s apartment using the key that he had given me three weeks ago. He had been away on a road trip for the last week and had gotten home late last night. As soon as I was done with work I made my way over to Auston’s. Instead of being greeted by an eager puppy I was greeted by silence.

“Aus you home?” I called out a little louder as I made my way over to the counter so I could set my purse down. I slipped my shoes and coat off before walking further into the apartment and into the living room. When I found it empty I felt myself growing confused. Auston had invited me over and I knew there was no way I made it here before him. Deciding to check his bedroom I walked down the hall and found his door shut. I knocked lightly.

“Auston are you in there?” I asked softly. After waiting a moment and getting no response I pushed the door open gently. When I looked in I immediately saw Felix's head peak up from the bed and Auston curled in a ball next to him running his hand through his fur. I pushed the door open further causing it to let out a loud squeak. Auston tensed up slightly before turning his head to look over at me.

“Hey,” I whispered as I walked into the room. I made my way over to him and sat on the bed next to him. As I got closer to him I knew something was wrong right away.

“What’s going on?” I asked as he laid his head back down next to Felix facing away from me. I ran my hand up and down his back for a moment waiting for him to speak.

“I just,” he started to say but his voice cracked causing him to pause to take a shuddery breath. I felt my heart break at the sound.

“Baby,” I said softly curling up behind him so that I was spooning him. When my arm wrapped around his chest from behind he clutched onto me tightly. He cried softly as I held onto him. I could feel him holding back slightly.

“It’s going to be okay just let it out,” I told him as I tightened my hold on him. Seeing him like this was absolutely breaking my heart. I had never seen Auston fall apart like this.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I whispered gently as I pressed my lips to the back of his head. After a moment his crying died down enough for him to be able to talk.

“There's just a lot going on. I-my- everything is going wrong,” he took in a shaky breath as he tried to gather his thoughts together.

“I’m in a goal drought and the media is just coming down on me and Coach is ripping me a new one. I just feel like I’m letting my team down. I was at the grocery store the other day and a fan came up to tell me how disappointed they were in me.”

I let out a small gasp as he ranted on. The fact that someone had the nerve to go up to Auston and be disrespectful to his face just because he wasn't scoring was horrendous. But before I could say anything he kept talking.

“My mom called me and she said my abuela isn't doing well,” he mumbled out. I felt my breath hitch at that. He had mentioned something to me about his Abuela going to the hospital because she had been feeling sick. After that call he hadn't brought her up again.

“Oh Auston I’m so sorry. I wish that there was something I could do to help,” I tried to sooth him. I moved my hand so that  I could play with the tips of his hair. Auston’s cries got louder, so I sat there rubbing his back while he cried it out. Around five minutes later his crying calmed down again and he turned to face me. My heart broke at his tear stained cheeks. I reached out to wipe the tears of his face before moving forward and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked quietly. He shook his head lightly.

“I just feel so bad, I never get to see them because I’m here and now she’s sick and all my family is flying out to spend time with her in the hospital and I can’t,” he mumbled. He cuddled closer to me, shuffling us so that he could put his head on my chest. I ran my hand through his hair as I listened to him.

“I can’t even ask to miss a game and go because I’m in this stupid slump,” he grumbled anger starting to seep in. Felix sat up and moved closer to us so that he could rest his head on Austons legs in an almost protective stance.

“I know that hockey’s been hard right now but you'll score again. I know that and so do your teammates and your coaches. The fans can all shut the fuck up-” he let out a light laugh as I said that. “They are all liars and stupid and your family understands Auston, they always have. I know that you want to be there and it stinks that you can’t but you can be there for them in other ways. You can send flowers, I’m sure your abuela would love that. We can facetime your family when they are at the hospital so you can talk to them,” I soothed running my hand up and down his back. He relaxed completely as he lifted his head from my chest to look up at me.

“Will you call with me?” he asked finally after a long moment of silence. I nodded my head immediately.

“Of course,” I told him softly. A small smile passed his lips before he leaned up to connect our lips in a soft kiss. His mustache tickled causing me to let out a small giggle as I pulled back. He gave me a small smile. He sat up and reached over to his side table for his phone that was charging. He pulled up his contacts and clicked on Alex contact. He paused as he went to hit call.

“Do I look like I’ve been crying?” he asked, turning to face me. I looked his face over. His eyes were slightly swollen. I nodded my head softly.

“A bit babe,” I wrapped my arm around him again so I could pull him closer.

“They won’t mind though Aus,” I soothed, running my hand up and down his arm. He let out a sigh as he pushed himself up and off the bed. He walked into his bathroom to rub his face with some water. Felix followed him as he went. He came out after a minute looking just the same.

“We should go to the kitchen. I don’t want them to see us calling from my bedroom. I don't think my religious mother or Abuela would like that,” Auston murmured as he reached out for my hand. I took his and he pulled me up leading us to the kitchen. Auston grabbed his laptop and set it on the counter. Once we were both seated he facetimed Alex from his laptop. A few moments later the call went through.

“Auston,” Alex cheered as she answered the phone. Her face shifted for a second before her smile widened.

“Amelia! Hi,” I waved as I sent her a shy smile. I had met all of Austons family pretty early on in our relationship. His sisters and mother before we even started dating but I still got slightly nervous when I talked to his sisters.

“Oh did you say Amelia?” I heard before Bre popped into the camera behind Alex. She sent me a wide grin.

“Guys, look, it's Austons better half,” Bre said, speaking to the people out of camera. There was a lot of loud commotion we heard through the phone as it started getting passed around before stopping in Ema’s hands.

“Oh Auston! Amelia! It’s so good to see you guys. You called at a perfect time were with Abuela right now,” Ema said panning the camera to show Auston’s Abuela. She grinned widely as she waved at the camera.

“Oh Auston! I see you on the TV. Your mom says your playings so good. I don’t get the games at the hospital but when we go home I watch.” she ranted as Ema focused the phone on her.

“Aw thank you. I’m glad everyone was able to make it out to you. I wish I could have come,” Auston said.

“Hey don't start Papi you're here right now,” Ema hushed Auston as she gave him a sharp look through the call.

“Abuela this is Amelia,” Auston introduced us wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in closer to his chest.

“My girlfriend,” he finished. Her face lit up as she took the two of us in.

“Oh Amelia I hear so much about you!” she grinned. She then said something in rapid fire spanish that had everyone laughing as Auston started blushing. I blushed myself not sure what was going on. Austons hand rubbed my back reassuringly as he sent me a grin.

“Okay I get it I talk about her alot,” Auston laughed as he continued to rub my back. This caused me to blush more as everyone off camera started laughing. There was another round of rapid spanish before everyone quieted down.

“Amelia dear how have you been? How's work treating you?” Ema asked. I glanced away from Auston so I could answer.

“I’ve been good and work has been eventful,” I joked with a laugh.

“Good.”

As she went to continue she was cut off by some shouting in the background and then loud laughter. Auston laughed as he shook his head.

“My younger cousins,” he whispered to me. I smiled softly as I glanced down at my phone. I had a text from my boss. I clicked it open, it was a text thread about how my article wasn't going to get published because he was unhappy with my decision to write about anything but the Leafs. I let out a soft sigh as I locked my phone glancing back at the laptop. Auston gave me a look but I shook my head. He was finally starting to fully smile. I wasn't about to ruin that.

“Ema, Auston told me that you guys were planning to come visit after your trip in Mexico,” I said grabbing her attention. Her face lit up as she nodded her head.

“Oh yes yes we're going to come down for the week,” she grinned.

“He mentioned you were taking an Uber to his place when you arrived. I could come get you guys at the airport,” I suggested. I hadn't talked to Auston about this yet but the way that he was beaming at me told me he didn't mind.

“Oh we would love that!” she grinned. Just as I was about to respond I was getting a call from my boss.

“Sorry I’m getting a call from work that I have to answer,” I apologized as I stood up from the stool leaving Auston to chat with his family and Abuela. I sat on the couch as I listened to my boss talk about the article that he was going to need by tomorrow morning. I let out a sigh as I listened to him. Once he was done I agreed to have it turned in before six am tomorrow. I hung up the phone reaching forward to rest my head in my hands.

“Babe,” Auston slipped his arm around my shoulder as he sat next to me on the couch. I glanced up at him shocked.

“What are you doing? Why aren't you on the phone still?” I asked, trying to stand up. He held me in place.

“They had to go, it’s okay it was good to talk to them. It’s just what I needed,” he grinned as he leaned over to press a kiss to my lips. I reached my hand up to tangle into his hair and pulled him closer. The two of us started to make out. He pushed me back so that I was laying on my back on the couch. He hovered over me as he started pressing kisses down my neck, as he reached down to pull my shirt off Felix jumped up on the couch. I let out a loud laugh as he started trying to lick the two of us on our face. Auston let out a loud laugh.

“Felix go away,” Auston said, pushing him back from us. I let out another laugh as I dodged his next kiss.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked, brushing my finger against his cheek. He sent me a sweet smile as he leaned down placing another kiss on my lips.

“You always help me feel better.”

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl x reader #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fanfic

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Chan: Homewrecker (Part Six)

Characters: Chan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, it’s basically all angst i’m sorry lmao

Word count: 1,741

Summary: Chan caught your attention as soon as your eyes met across the market. Something about him drew you to him, and you knew you were meant to be. However, you were already taken and arranged to be married on your next birthday, so you could never be together.

a/n: things in bold are in english

Previous | Next | Homewrecker Masterlist

Rin frowned as she stared at her alpha. He was just reading a book at the kitchen table while she stood at the counter and just watched him, the frown not necessarily intentional, but it appeared because of her thoughts.

“Do you want something or are you going to continue to stare at me until you burn a hole in my head?” Jiung wondered, not looking up from his book.

She was well aware the older wolf knew she was there and had been watching him silently, she just wasn’t sure what to say to him. Whenever she tried to bring up what was bothering her, he just brushed it off and said everything would be fine. Rin absolutely loved Jiung, but she didn’t like how positive he always was. It was going to get him in trouble one day.

“I still feel like Eunjin’s getting closer to us whenever she screams,” Rin stated for at least the tenth time since meeting with Seungcheol’s pack. It had only been two days since then, but both nights, the pack had woken up to Eunjin screaming in the distance -- and Rin was sure it was getting louder each time. “I don’t like this feeling I’m getting, Ji.”

“Her screams were never an issue to you before, and now they are? She was in our house before, Corinne,” he reminded the younger girl with a chuckle, setting his book down on the table and turning his attention to her. “I’m telling you, everything will be okay. That probably has nothing to do with us.”

Rin grimaced at his use of her full name before making a face at him. But despite being playful with the alpha, she still felt immense worry that going into town with Seungcheol’s pack was a bad idea. She understood the pack’s promise to always help others in need, but she’d also heard the horror stories of how doing that had gone wrong for them. She was the newest member of the pack even though she wasn’t the youngest -- Jiung and Chanseong had found her on a trip to Australia  where she’d fled to from New Zealand -- so she didn’t have to go through the loss the pack had faced. But she’d heard they used to have so many more of them, and they’d all died from either trying to help other packs, or from very unfortunate accidents -- like Rika’s mate. And she feared that Jiung’s positive and helpful mindset was going to cause even more causalities, especially with them having to go into town to help. 

But, knowing Jiung would continue to wave away her concerns until she ultimately gave up again, Rin didn’t say another word about it.

-

Things were normal that morning in the house as Chan returned home. Only a few of the pack were awake -- he wasn’t sure why some of the pack woke at the crack of dawn, but at least it meant that there was usually breakfast for him when he got home --  but Soonyoung wasn’t in the kitchen waiting up for him like usual.

“He probably went into town again,” Junhui shrugged when Chan had asked about it. “He’s not in his room, so that’s my best bet.”

“Why’re you even awake, anyway?” the youngest wondered.

Jun sighed as he continued making his own breakfast, mumbling, “Stupid fucking birds...”

The pup opted to not comment on Junhui’s odd reoccurring nightmare and just ate his breakfast before going upstairs to sleep. He didn’t really sleep much when he was with you -- he might doze off a bit, but it wasn’t enough to make him feel rested -- so he often went up to his room after eating breakfast.

However, his slumber was cut short by an ear-piercing scream so loud that he only recalled one time when he heard it: when Eunjin had first seen Joshua. Chan immediately clamped his hands over his ears and let out a howl at the pain, curling into a ball under his blankets. It felt like it lasted forever, and even when it was over, it still rang painfully in his ears.

Feeling disoriented, Chan stumbled out of bed and made his way downstairs. He could hear the pack was absolutely silent, but he wasn’t sure why until he rounded the corner to the living room.

Eunjin had just passed through the doorway to the living room, frozen where she stood. The pack was all staring wide-eyed at her, but Chan was unable to see where she was looking since her back was to him. He walked forward and peered around her, following her gaze.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

Even though the whole pack was staring at her in horror, her eyes were locked with Hansol’s. The wolf seemed more surprised than afraid, staring back and blinking every so often without saying anything or moving a muscle. 

What broke the silence was Jooyeon whispering, “Is Hansol gonna die?”

The alpha blinked, broken from his horrified trance. The banshee was screaming in the face of one of his pack, and that struck fear straight through him. What was he supposed to do about that? What was he supposed to think?

He shook his head, softly replying, “I... I don’t know.”

-

Eunjin described it as ‘a bad feeling’. 

“I can’t tell what’s going to happen, I just get a feeling,” was all she was able to explain. But she clearly felt bad for shaking up the pack, quickly adding, “It might not be him dying! He might just...c-cause it...?”

That didn’t really make anybody feel better, but they felt bad for the poor girl. She couldn’t control it.

But with the date of your birthday quickly arriving, the pack was terrified of what was to come, and they had a feeling that Eunjin’s scream had to do with that. Ever since they made the plan with Jiung and his pack, Eunjin had been going out into the woods more and more often. As if the pack wasn’t stressed enough, now they had to worry about tracking down a banshee in the middle of the forest at night.

With only a few days left to work out the rest of the details of the plan, Jiung was going to go back to Seungcheol’s with Hanbin, Chanseong, and Rika while Kyung, Baekhan, and Jaesang went to scope out the town a little bit. Chan was growing more and more anxious as days went by, unable to think about anything else but you and getting you out of there. He knew it was dangerous and risky, but he was also excited that there was a chance of giving you a better life than what you had. It was scary, but it was a risk he knew he had to take.

However, as the countdown to the rescue mission grew shorter, Joshua seemed to grow more and more grumpy. He was even more irritable than normal, and more often than not, he wasn’t even at the house.

“I don’t know what’s up with him lately,” Jeonghan sighed, running his slender fingers through his hair. “He won’t talk to anyone, either.”

“I think I know what it might be,” Seungkwan offered, knowing Joshua wasn’t even around to hear them. “Well, Eunjin might.”

The pack was surprised. The girl who caused the most confusion that morning might have some answers for something else.

She just looked at him silently as the pack looked between the pair. But she seemed too nervous to speak up, so Seungkwan patted her hands he held in his and spoke for her.

“I think the voice she hears a lot is Lilly,” he admitted. Eunjin looked down at her lap, eyebrows furrowed. “She’s been telling me what it says, and she said it sounds female. She’s been saying things like ‘what if it’s like last time’ and, um... Love, what was the other thing?”

“‘He doesn’t want to leave me,’“ she recited, still staring at her lap.

“Right,” he nodded, “so I think he’s going to visit her grave everyday.”

“Why would he have to leave--?”

Soonyoung’s eyes opened as the realization hit him, cutting off Chan’s question, “Because we’ll have to move away.”

The pack fell silent, suddenly feeling heartache for their brother. Joshua was getting irritable because he was upset. All he had to be close to Lilly was the place they buried her which wasn’t too far from the house. But after all of this, they’d have to move farther away to the house Jiung had showed them. They’d be farther away from Lilly, and that made Josh upset.

“Let’s just cut him some slack for a while,” Jihoon spoke up.

Thankfully, a knock at the door broke the somber atmosphere. Jiung had arrived with his pack, so Seungcheol called for them to come in. The small group walked down the hallway and rounded the corner to the living room.

Eunjin looked up.

The next thing he knew, Chan was slapping his hands over his ears, doubling over from the pain. Had his eyes not been squeezed shut, he would’ve seen the rest of his pack -- including the mates -- and Jiung’s pack doing the same as Eunjin’s shriek made their ears feel like they were bleeding.

Once it was over, both packs slowly uncovered their ears and looked up at Eunjin. The banshee was standing up from her spot on the couch between Seungkwan and Seungcheol, staring with her lips parted and her blue eyes wide like she had with Hansol.

This time, she was staring at the other alpha.

-

At the edge of town, the small group finally composed themselves after hearing the awful scream. It was in the distance, but far too close for comfort. And it was in the direction of Seungcheol’s, which none of them liked one bit.

“What do you think that was?” Jaesang asked, looking to Kyung for answers.

Not wanting to worry the younger wolves, she just sighed and shook her head, “It’s fine, let’s go.”

‘Kyung, aren’t you worried?’ she heard the telepathic pup in her head, and knew Jaesang could hear him, too.

“No, Baek,” she promised, even though it was a lie.

Kyung walked into town with Baekhan and Jaesang flanking her, muttering to herself, “He better not be getting us into more trouble than we can handle, or I’ll kill him myself.”

#seventeen #chan #dino #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshots #seventeen fanfics #chan au #chan imagine #chan fanfic #chan scenario #chan oneshot #chan imagines #chan fanfics #chan scenarios #chan oneshots #dino au #dino imagine #dino oneshot #dino fanfic #dino scenario #dino imagines #dino oneshots #dino fanfics #dino scenarios #werewolf!seventeen

[alovesongshewrote]

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours.  Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads?  (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings:  A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn.  Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N:   if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one.  I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags:   @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real.  It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence.  That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row.  Was it healthy?  Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers.  Answers to what?  Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour.  You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment.  But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast.  By noon, you were ready to collapse.  The three cups of coffee did not help.  Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass.  As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret.  You also love him, and that’s a secret too.  Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity.  Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love.  Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already.  The other half keeps trying to get you together.  It is not working very well.  But that’s all a digression.  What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience.  You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance.  You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass.  You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand.  That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah.  Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out.  The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train.  You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute.  Or at least it felt like a solid minute.  Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)?  You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that?  Like… really cute.  Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling.  Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special.  Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why.  He wasn’t really planning on anything.  Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second.  You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird.  Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up?   Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,”  Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up?  It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet.  That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state.  It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah.   C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,”  you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.  

It was a nice place.  Very cozy, very him.  It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment.  Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it.  Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there.  What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it.  Once again, the boy was a blushing mess.  If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute.  Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter.  While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub.  For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there.  Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian?  That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot.  Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard.  He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess.  Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself.  You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him.  He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true.  At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set.  His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping.  Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you.  He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad.  He was just worried for your health.  Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived.  He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done.  Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you.  It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected.  You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what?  No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over.  You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you.  You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep.  Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him.  Was that your plan?  Maybe.  Was it part of a second, bigger plan?  Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent.  There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do.  Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours.  For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control.  Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction.  You were right, he thought.  He couldn't use magic on you.  As far as he knew, you were a human.  Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly.  If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you.  He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?”  Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting.  Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted.  Just quiet.  You had to face facts.  Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop.  For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please.  I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself.  I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to.  Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute.  It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said.  You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much.  You hadn't.  Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room.  You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay?  I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love.  Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear.  The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah.  I meant what I said earlier, by the way.  You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans.  He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest.  He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me.  You are.  Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders.  Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty.  And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less.  You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again.  It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep.  It was nice, comforting.  You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather.  It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep.  He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face.  He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you.  You looked so peaceful.  Good.  You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did.  After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?”  his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.”  And for once, you were.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #angst #fluff #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #tw sleep deprivation

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 3

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral sex, between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.

Closing the door firmly behind you and heading straight to your fancy CEO swivel chair, you sat down and shakily placed your hands flat on the desk. You took some deep breaths. That stupid big idiot and his BDE! How dare he kiss you like that in front of everyone.

And even worse, leaving you all hot and flustered like some kid who’s never been kissed before! Let’s be honest, that’s what was really getting to you... he hadn’t actually bent you over the counter and fucked you, but by your reaction he might as well have.

How ridiculous, you told yourself sternly, get a grip! You put your forehead on the desk’s cool surface. They’d all been staring at you, and you could feel your face heating up again at the thought of them watching Billy kiss you really quite passionately. And you melting like a complete fool in the process.

After a couple of hours hiding out in your office, you knew you’d have to face the music sooner or later and made your way back down to the café. The regulars, you saw, had gone by now so that was something but by the mischievous looks on your co-workers’ faces, you knew you were in for some serious teasing.

You made your way over to one of the two monster Gaggia coffee machines in the café and started making yourself a cappuccino. “Anyone want one?” you asked over your shoulder. Jake said he’d have one too, but the other two passed. You could just feel their curiosity crackling through the air like electricity. They were of course fully aware of the Ex and that whole daytime soap plot, but were just about losing their shit as they didn’t know anything about this hot dude, who’d walked in to the café and kissed you like he knew you extremely well.

You handed Jake his coffee and helped yourself to a danish cinnamon pastry - yeah, eating the profits again - munching into it and then pointing at your staff members with it. “Okay, guys. Here it is. In its entirety. I went to little cousin’s cocktail party last night as you know, and met the guy who was in here earlier. We left the party, went for a couple of drinks elsewhere, he drove me home, I got out of his car and he drove away. Like, immediately I got out.”

You really didn’t feel the need to mention the kiss he’d stolen before you got out of his car.

Gabrielle’s mouth fell open, “You met him last night???” The implication being that A) how was that possible and B) where did that kiss come from if you hadn’t slept with him? You sighed, taking another bite of pastry. “Yes! And as I’ve just told you,” you looked around to make sure there weren’t any customers in earshot, “he did not stay the night, okay? He didn’t even get out of his car.”

“It’s just that it looked a bit ...” Steve trailed off nervously. “Well...umm... friendly... for someone you’ve only just met,” finished Jake. You nodded. “I’m aware of that. What you saw there was the Billy Russo Show, done purely to embarrass me. He’s a cocky big shit. And trying to get me to go out with him.” “Are you going to?” asked Gabrielle. “Oh, hell yes! Wouldn’t you?” Jake almost got whiplash, he nodded so emphatically, “Yes. Yes, I would.” You all had a good laugh at that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

There were only 2 days to go until Friday, and you found yourself panicking. What to wear, what to wear? OK, after mentally reviewing your wardrobe you decided that a shopping trip was in order.

Hanging up your new purchase in the wardrobe, you felt pleased with your choice. Nothing too flashy - you weren’t sure of the venue, so went with smart/casual - a sleek navy number, wraparound style, mid-thigh length and showing only a hint of cleavage. Less is more right?

Teamed with a pair of metallic navy heels, it would be fine. You hoped. What if he was taking you somewhere really low-key? Oh well, you shrugged, if you ended up looking a bit like Cinders at the ball in some local pizzeria, so be it.

Jake and the others were still buzzing about your upcoming date, in fact you’d eventually asked them if they wanted to come along too. They’d at least had the decency to look guilty, but only a little. You were sure that if they found out where you two were headed, they’d follow you. You decided you’d better check for shadowy figures tailing you on Friday night.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

8pm on the dot, the buzzer sounded in your apartment, Billy’s voice announcing that he was downstairs. You were not quite ready, still had a couple of tweaks to make so buzzed him up. He strolled in as you opened the door, leaning in for a kiss to which you turned your head, so it landed on your cheek. “Lipstick!” you trilled, moving back towards the bathroom. “I won’t be long, have a seat. You’re looking good, Russo, by the way.” “Thanks,” you heard his voice from the other room, “and you’re looking absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart.”

You’d felt happier when you saw that he was also smart/casual.... what looked like a cashmere burgundy sweater over black jeans, with a leather jacket. He looked edible.

When you emerged back into the living room five minutes later - a veritable vision in navy, you mockingly smirked to yourself - Billy Russo was nowhere in sight. You stopped in your tracks, and then heard a drawer opening in your bedroom. You walked through to it, just in time to see Billy picking up a pair of your lacy silk panties out of your underwear drawer.

“Russo!” you yelled, “put those back, you perv!” He slid the smooth fabric between his long fingers, grinning devilishly at you. “Mmmmm, are you wearin’ something similar right now?” Before you could stop yourself, you bit back, “Who says I’m wearing any at all?” His eyes widened, a big grin appearing on his face. “Oh, really? Wanna prove it?” “No!” you replied, knowing your face was scarlet, “just forget I said that. I’m joking with you.” He shook his head, “Yeah, like I’m goin’ to get that image out of my head anytime soon.”

“Let’s go, Billy,” you said, walking to the front door and pulling on your own leather jacket. “Hey, we’re matching,” he laughed, pointing between your jacket and his, “ain’t that sweet!” “It’s creepy, actually. Matching clothes? Vomit-inducing.” He laughed, “You’re funny.” “No, I’m just not some soppy sappy woman who’s going to fall at your feet, Russo.” He took your hand as you closed and locked your front door, and the two of you headed for the stairs.

“Yeah, I’d kinda got that vibe already,” he grinned at you, “but it doesn’t matter, I know I’m gonna get you in the end.” “Just keep on telling yourself that,” you snarked back.

Looking at the back of his head as he walked down the stairs in front of you, you really wanted to run your fingers through that hair but managed to keep your hands to yourself.

Fastening your seat belt, back in the gleaming Wraith, you watched Billy’s fingers as he fastened his and then placed his hands on the steering wheel. You mentally shook yourself, you were beginning to fantasise about different parts of his body and you’d better snap out of it, you told yourself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He took you to a really nice Italian restaurant, not too posh, just nice and relaxed with friendly staff and really good food. The conversation from the night in the bar was picked up where it left off, each of you adding more and varied information. You learned that Frank had sadly lost his wife and kids when they innocently got caught up in a savage gang war gun battle. Billy told you that his friend had gone off the rails for a while, but had recently met a lovely lady called Karen and they’d started dating. He was really pleased for him, as he’d been so worried about him for a while. You thought you’d quite like to meet Frank sometime.

You told him something more of your life, thankfully not involving assault and cheating ex-boyfriends this time. He’d been fascinated and truly appreciative of the struggle you’d had to get your business off the ground, saying that he’d been lucky in having a major investor lined up before he’d even left the Marines.

You saw a dark look flit over his face for a moment, but then it cleared and he went on to ask you more questions about your business. You’d both chatted easily together until it was almost midnight, and you’d become “that couple” who were the last ones in the restaurant. You realised that, when he dropped the ‘Billy Big Dick’ nonsense, you really enjoyed his company and felt that you two had clicked even more this evening.

He drove away from the restaurant, and it took you a few minutes to notice that he wasn’t driving the route to your apartment. “Billy,” you sighed, “are we heading to your place by any chance?” That damn smirk was back on his face. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve seen yours, so now you can see mine.” ”Oh, ha bloody ha. I’m not sleeping with you, you know.” A grin appeared on his lips as you glanced across at his profile, illuminated by each passing streetlight. “Just keep on tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart,” he replied mockingly. You laughed out loud, “You cheeky big bastard.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

His apartment was everything you would’ve expected - open plan, with modern, sleek furnishings and decor in dark masculine colours. You settled yourself onto the large sofa, and he headed to the kitchen area; a moment later, you heard wine being poured then his tall figure reappeared, holding the two wine glasses. He handed one to you, and you took a sip - it was very good wine. “So, Billy... I’m guessing your li’l batchelor pad here sees quite a lot of action, and not the type you saw in the Marines, huh?”

That smirk. He sat down next to you, hand going to rest on your shoulder and playing with a strand of your hair. His expression became serious, “No. I don’t bring women back here.”

You scoffed, “Oh come on, Billy... you’re...” then you stopped, looking away from him. “I’m what?” You shook your head. “C’mon, what were you going to say?” “Never mind. Well, if you don’t bring them here, let me guess... you go to their place and disappear before the morning light?” He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, breaking eye contact with you. “Okay... that, I can’t deny. How did you guess? And what were you going to say before?”

Oh to hell with it, you thought.

“I was going to say... you’re hot, Billy. So obviously - unless you’ve got a problem down there and need some little blue pills...” his eyebrows rose, his mouth dropping open slightly before he started grinning, “...you won’t be a saint and you’re more than likely a player.”

He leaned in towards you, eyes staring deep into yours, “Firstly, I have no problems with my equipment in any way shape or form,” ....smirk... “it’s in perfect workin’ order. And I’d be more than happy to prove that to you.” His lips met yours in a kiss, quickly growing heated. He pulled away, making eye contact again, “And you’re right, I’m no saint. A player? Yeah, maybe. But I can be a saint for you, if you want me to be.”

“But that wouldn’t be the real Billy Russo, would it?” His eyes were still on you. You carried on, “Look, I’ll level with you. I like you - when you’re not wearing your BDE persona. It’s a total clichè, but I really don’t intend to be just another notch on your no-doubt designer bedframe.”

He smiled at you, “I get it, I really do.” He trailed a finger along your cheekbone, “I wouldn’t be tryin’ to be someone I’m not. I just meant that I like you too, and I feel comfortable dropping the persona with you.” You smiled back. “OK, but Billy?” “Yeah?” “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Laughing, “Oh, yeah?” pulling you against his chest, a hand going to your cheek as he kissed you long and hard. Breaking away, hand on his chest, you whispered, “Yeah...”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was poised above you, looking down at you as if you were something he wanted to devour. Your clothes had joined his on the bedroom floor a little while ago; you were both lying on his very large bed, and yes it was designer-made - you’d asked him.

He gently pushed aside a strand of your hair, before kissing your lips. His mouth then made its way slowly but surely down to your neck and collarbone, and you felt little nips on your skin before his tongue licked your skin slowly. He moved slightly lower and sucked your nipples while his hands were busy massaging your breasts. Your hands moved to his broad shoulders, pulling him down further so you could feel more of his skin against yours.

You heard a chuckle, “So yeah, I guess you really aren’t gonna sleep with me after all, huh?” You shifted out slightly from under his body, “Shut up Billy, and put this to good use,” letting your fingers trail down to his hard length. You slid your fingers around it and gave his tip a firm squeeze. His breath hissed between his lips, and those big hands pulled you back underneath him. “Don’t worry, I was gonna.” You smirked, “I confess I was impressed when I saw what you were packing,” another squeeze, another hiss, his mouth on your neck, “but actions speak louder than words.”

He laughed, “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” Deciding to head for the mother lode, you gave him one last squeeze, firmer than before, sniggering as his hips shot forward. “Same to you,” you said, before sliding your hands into his silky hair at last. Running your fingers right back through it, you sighed out loud and grabbed a handful with each of yours, and tugged. “I see you like my hair,” he smirked.

You leant forward and kissed him, hard. He groaned, kissing you back even harder. Then your hands ran over the muscles of his chest, down the trail of hairs on his lower stomach, before grabbing his cock and wrapping your fingers round it. He growled, “And what ya gonna do with that, sweetheart?” You began stroking him firmly, “This.... until you decide to get off your ass and do something.”

He laughed out loud, and suddenly his hand was between your legs, his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. His lips at your ear, whispering, “Something like this?” and you felt a long finger plunging into you, swiftly joined by a second one. He began sliding them in and out, curling them, and it had an instant effect on you, your breath hitching. “Billy,” you sighed, your hand stilling momentarily on his length. You heard his low chuckle, and he increased his pace. Okay smartass, you thought, and gave his tip a very firm squeeze. “Aahhh!” you heard, and gave him another one for good measure. “You minx,” he laughed, then picked up pace with his fingers again. Then they were gone from you, and you saw him moving his head downwards, hands moving to your hips, his tongue replacing his fingers. He was lapping at you, his thumb back on your clit, and now you really were in trouble.

You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in, beginning to writhe on the bed, and then his fingers were back, sliding in next to his tongue. The combination of thumb, tongue and fingers was like an incendiary bomb going off in your core, and you could feel your climax building by the second. His pace increased and that was it, the explosion happened and you now grabbed his head like a vice, keeping him where he was as the aftershocks of your orgasm washed over you in waves. Very pleasurable waves. Finally, you released his head and you saw his dark eyes meet yours, a satisfied glint in them. “That was only number one, angel,” he grinned, “fasten your seat belt.” “Cocky bastard. And I’m an angel now, am I?” He moved up and back over you, hands sliding up your body.

“For sure,” kissing your neck, nipping the skin lightly with his teeth. “And I’m so lucky, havin’ one in my bed.” He sat up, opening a drawer in his bedside table, scrabbling around until he produced a condom, unwrapping it and holding your gaze as he rolled it on.

His hands moved to your breasts, palming them then circling his thumbs over your nipples as they peaked once again. You grabbed that hair of his again, little gasps making their way between your lips. Your feet were flat on the mattress, knees either side of his thighs and you felt his hand moving down, then the head of his cock was between your legs, edging its way in. Billy thrust right inside you, and there were loud groans from you both as he sunk in. “Mmmm...” he kissed you, tongue diving into your mouth, then he pulled away, gazing at you, “you don’t know just how good you feel around me.” You shifted a bit, rolling your hips to his, “About as good as you feel inside me.”

A low growl, then he was moving on you, fast right from the get-go, his thrusts forcing a moan from you on each stroke. Your legs moved - seemingly of their own accord - around his hips, and this new angle obviously pleased both of you, as the noises the two of you made got even louder. You felt him deep inside you, and every time you squeezed and held him there, he actually whimpered.

“Good puppy!” you managed to gasp out, hearing an answering snort of laughter from him. “I am not...” he gasped back at you between thrusts, “...a fuckin’ puppydog, sweetheart.” “But Billy, you’ve got those big brown eyes ...” your own eyes closed at a particularly forceful thrust, “...and you are fucking me, so...”

His only answer this time was to pull one of your legs higher onto his back, thrusting deep as he did, and then his hand cupped your breast and massaged it hard. That shut you up.

His fingers were at your inflamed core again and then he was rubbing at your clit, making your back arch with sheer pleasure. He was switching between kissing you hungrily and nipping and sucking love bites onto your collarbone. Thank god he wasn’t targeting your neck, you thought, that would look so professional at work. You, meanwhile, were over-indulging in your obsession with his hair, running it back off his forehead with your fingers and tugging on it to your heart’s content.

Finally your over-pleasured body couldn’t take any more, and your climax hit you like a truck. Your nails dug into his muscled shoulders, grabbing him in a death grip and a small scream of “Billy!” exited your open mouth. You felt him give a few sharp thrusts, realising that he was about to come; you heard your name, then a long groan and he released his warm seed into you. He sunk down onto you, kissing you softly but with passion, long fingers laying gently along your jaw and neck as he did so.

“Angel....” he sighed.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfiction

[egcdeath]

wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader 

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone. 

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub. 

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance. 

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black. 

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain. 

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream. 

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall. 

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted. 

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him? 

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.” 

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug. 

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you. 

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink. 

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth. 

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders. 

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

#andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #andy barber x you #hey i wrote that lol

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

IMAGINE: Introduction

a successful Black woman named Tatyana is living the dream. She’s married to the love of her life and has two children by him. What happens when her marriage is on the rocks? Tatyana finds solice and unimaginable dick in a drug kingpin named Erik a.k.a Killa.

Warnings: Smut, Drug Dealer!Erik, Dominant!Erik. Entanglements lmaoo, Nasty Talk.

Suggested listenings: King Von- F**k Yo Man

The most feared trap house in Grove Park ATL. The name speaks for itself. It’s a place where drug dealers peddle their poison. The biggest dealer in Grove Park of illicit drugs traps people into his business. Once you are into organized crime activities, you may find it difficult to come out of it...especially alive. Big-time drug trafficker and kingpin Erik Stevens; Daddy E or Killa, makes millions of dollars a month selling opiates such as opium, heroin, morphine and codeine; MDMA better known as ecstasy; strong stimulants such as cocaine and crack cocaine; LSD if you want to hallucinate; Xanax illegally, better known as Z-bars or Zannies, and of course weed. 

The Trap House is a bungalow style home on North Ave NW Atlanta, GA. It has a brand new front porch that overlooks a quiet corner lot in the heart of Atlanta. The outside of the single-family home is painted grey. It has a regular setting with children playing and the home is usually managed like a regular household by a middle-aged woman named Michelle, also known as the Trap Queen. She’s Killa’s godmother. Anyone who isn’t involved with the physically and psychologically hazardous activities happening within the Trap House would think it’s a standard family home. It’s all a hoax. 

Killa and his group of duffle bag boys usually come in the late-night hours during the week, every other weekend, or the third day of the month. Loud trap music blares from the home, signifying that they are working. Killa’s matte black Mercedes-Benz G Wagon with black rims is the only car he drives to work at the Trap House. The living room is simply furnished with a clean-cut black leather sectional sofa, and a wall-mounted flat screen used for surveillance of the entire home. The kitchen isn’t anything special except for the refrigerator filled with different types of Hennessy. 

The dining room is used for the dealers to play spades, dominoes, or gamble when there isn’t much to do except keep watch of the area. The main bathroom is a safe way to flush stash if need be but there was little concern for that since Killa has crooked cops in his circle. The three bedrooms all serve a purpose. The master bedroom or the Clandestine Chemistry Room is used as a drug laboratory to illegally manufacture drugs such as PCP, LSD, MDMA, Fentanyl, and Meth. The middle room has some local trap girls counting money with various bank machines and UV counterfeit detection lamps. 

The last and smallest room is the artillery room or The Heat Room. Various guns like shotguns, Uzi’s, Smith & Wesson, Taurus 9MM, GLOCK INC 9MM and .45, and Sig Sauer P938 are stored in that room. Killa makes it mandatory that the Trap House is cleaned and no traces left behind every other weekend. He has a few storage units in Atlanta where he keeps everything when shipments come in. He’s always watching his men because he wants to make sure none of them are snitching to the feds. They wouldn’t dare to anyway because they knew where their fate would end up if they did. 

Killa and the rest of the dealers were working in the Trap House on a Saturday evening. Killa is seated on his black leather sectional wearing a white beater, black and red basketball shorts, and Air Jordan 1s. He has a simple gold cross chain hanging from his neck and a gold and black Versace watch on his left wrist. Killa’s dreads are wild and tapered with the sides cut into a fade. He has bright white teeth lined with gold slugs behind his thick lips, a sinewy body covered in tattoos on his arms, chest, neck, and back, and black diamond studs in his ears. Evidently from the description of his physical appearance he’s absolutely sexy; fine; handsome; good-looking. 

Killa’s obsidian eyes are unyielding as he watches the surveillance. His dark, unruly brows furrow when he notices a figure approach the Trap House. Killa turns down the music playing from the Bluetooth speakers before grabbing his gold chrome Glock, holding it behind his back at waist level. He walked up to the door, peering through the peephole to see who it was approaching. With an annoyed grunt, Killa opens the door to find one of his dealers carrying a black and grey duffel bag most likely filled with his money. 

“Where the fuck have you been nigga?” He asked with an icy tone of voice, “you were supposed to show up a few hours ago with my money,” Killa checks the outside surroundings with a quick sweep of his eyes before opening the door wider, snatching the bag from his dealer's shoulder so harshly that the dealer’s arm was almost pulled from its socket.

“My fault, Killa, the drug deal started a little later than it was supposed to. They ain’t show up until thirty minutes after...I thought they were tryna jug me out of the deal.” 

Killa didn’t care for the explanation, all he was worried about was his money and if it was there.

“Rick, go to Stella and tell her there’s more money to count. I wanna know how much is here. Make sure she does it right too,” Killa hands Rick, his most trusted duffel bag boy and sometimes henchmen, the money.

“Keith, right?” Killa says with hard unwavering eyes and a stony face, “You got one more time to be late. If you keep that shit up working for me then these other niggas around here will try and be on that same shit too...I don’t play bout’ my drugs, and most of all I don’t play bout’ dat payola… Yen know before you decided to be in this game, nigga?” 

“Yo, Killa, I promise you, this shit won’t happen again,” He pleaded.

“Yeah, Aight, we’ll see,” Killa was standing at 6’3, “Lets take a trip to the money room.” 

Walking to the money room, Killa was greeted with ebony beauties dressed half-naked counting money. The UV of the room made their acrylic nails glow. Nothing but juicy ass and titties handling Daddy E’s money. Stella, a redbone with her bleach-blonde hair styled in six stitch braids was on the last stack of money from the duffel bag. Killa strolled over to Stella, lightly tapping her on the ass which caused her to blush and smile. 

“Hey, Daddy E. I’m almost finished,” She started up the counting machine while tapping it with her lime green stiletto nails. Once it was finished and she wrapped it in rubber bands, she allowed Killa to read the total. He felt like he was about to burst with rage. Stella made herself scarce and went to the other side of the room. Keith stood confused and from the deranged look on Killa face he knew he was in trouble. 

Killa raised a single dark brow, “You must think I’m stupid, where is the rest of my fucking money?” 

“I promise you, that’s all of it, Killa,” Keith says while fear throbbed inside of him. 

“Like I said, you think I’m a fool? Nigga...if I let you get away with this shit then other niggas will steal from me too, I’m not finna have that shit,” Killa says while chuckling, “NOW WHERE IS THE REST OF MY FUCKING MONEY AT HOMIE?!”

“What’s going on Killa?” Rick walks in holding his strap.

“I told you this nigga is wishy washy, Rick,” Killa pointed his gold chrome Glock to the amount of money, “This is counting out 95G’s I’m missing 5G’s!!!” Killa felt himself getting even madder than he was before. Rick gives Keith a dirty look before charging up to him, balling up the front of his shirt within his large hulking fist.

“WHERE IS IT?” Rick asks with clenched teeth and spit flying menacingly.

“You better get it out of him before I end this nigga life, Rick. I’m itching to use my piece on this sell out, aint kill a nigga in a grip,” Killa cocks his gun, waiting for the perfect opportunity. If he lied, he was going to die and if he told the truth he was going to die. Either way, he’s dead. 

“Didn’t you hear me ask you a question?!!! Where is Killa’s money!!!!” Rick pistol-whipped Keith, watching his lanky body fall to the floor. Killa crouched down to his level with his gold chrome gun dangling in his left hand. He gives Keith a sinister smile with eyes so vicious it made you feel like you were in the presence of the devil. 

“What’s up with my money? And don’t lie to me,”  Killa’s voice was smooth and threatening. 

It was clear that panic fueled him. Killa could see right through him. The sweat on his face, the slight tremble of his body, the way his eyelids would flicker. Killa wordlessly points his Glock to Keith’s temple so hard it left a painful indentation from the barrel. 

“I have it,” He finally says, “It’s in my car.” 

Killa sniffled with rage before standing at his full height. He shared a look with Rick before placing his gold chrome Glock in the front of his shorts causing them to hang lower on his hips. 

“Let’s take this nigga to the spot,” Killa tells Rick before walking out of the room. 

“The what?!” Keith asks with his voice numb with shock. The more he talked, the more he stroked Killa’s anger. 

“Take him out back to the Escalade, Rick, and bring PAC wit’ you too.”

“Wait!!! Wait!!!! The money is in my car!!!!” Keith yelled while Rick man-handled him to his feet by the collar of his white T-shirt causing it to rip, “I can go get it!!!! It’s all there, Killa!!! I promise you, man, it’s all there!!!!!”

“Niggas always wanna beg and plead when they about to die, shit is lame,” Killa spoke mostly to himself before entering his gun room to grab his favorite piece. 

The black Escalade was the car that Killa used for committing murder. They have a designated spot which is a dirt-covered lot that overlooks Downtown Atlanta. The lot has a mechanic shop that Killa owns which is one of the businesses to clean up a few dollars; an easy way to legitimize the dirty money from the streets. Only his circle used the mechanic shop. 

Killa sauntered out back to the parked Escalade with his Uzi. He checked the trunk to make sure everything needed to dispose of the body in such a way as to prevent, hinder, or delay discovery of the body, to prevent identification of the body, or to prevent autopsy, was there. Usually, after he murders his victims, Killa will have the bodies wrapped in heavy-duty plastic and driven out to a rural farm that he also owns to bury them. If someone were to ask him how many bodies are decaying there, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. Rick and another henchman nicknamed PAC-man carried a struggling Keith from the house and tossed him in one of the back seats of the Escalade. Rick hopped in the driver's seat, cranking up the car before pulling out into a back alley. 

“The house is getting cleaned up as we speak, Killa, here,” Rick hands him a handheld surveillance. 

“Thanks, Patna, nigga did you bring me a blunt? I forgot my shit back in the living room,” Killa says. 

“You lucky I rolled an extra one earlier,” Rick chuckled while passing Killa a freshly rolled blunt.

“Let’s get this shit over with so I can go see this broad,” Killa lights his blunt, takes a hit, and blows out smoke rings, “Aye, PAC, quiet that punk ass nigga down!!!” Killa yells over his shoulder, “Nigga crying too much...if you gotta gag that nigga do it...making my fucking ears hurt with all that bitch ass crying.” Rick and PAC-man share a laugh. 

“What broad you seeing anyway, Patna?” Rick asks. 

“Nicki,” Killa French inhaled the smoke while keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror. 

“The bitch who’s mama you selling crack to? Explain this shit because I’m lost.” 

Killa laughs, “For the record, I didn’t even know that was her mama until I saw both of them leaving Church’s Chicken. Anyway, she knows her mama is still smoking rocks...last time I had to check that old bitch,” Killa spits outside of the car window before licking his full lips. 

“Fuck, was she the one that came by the Trap House on Monday night?” Rick makes a left turn. 

“Bitch came banging on the door, Rick,” Killa shakes his head while stroking his goatee, “Begging me for some more crack. I told her old ass that she owes me 200 dollars for the crack I gave her a week ago...I only did that shit because Nicki didn’t have it to pay for it...why did this dry pussy bitch get down on her knees begging to suck my dick for some crack?!” Killa kisses his teeth, “I told her to take her ol’ ass off my porch before I put my foot in her. She ain’t getting no more from me until I get my money.” 

“Why don’t you just drop Nicki? That’s some wack ass drama, Killa, you know you don’t need that shit,”  Rick finally pulls into the dirt lot of the mechanic shop after a ten-minute ride. 

“The pussy is so damn good…” Killa left it at that. Nicki was Killa’s on-again, off-again booty call. She was the only girl that could match his freaky, that was before he met Tatyana. Saving the rest of the conversation for another day, Killa grabs his Uzi from between his legs before exiting the Escalade. He puts out his weed before placing it in his pocket. Rick and PAC-man grab the traitor from the back of the car, dragging him in the dirt before dropping him face-first about six feet away from Killa. 

“Aight, bring this nigga to his feet...face forward sneak nigga!!” Killa commanded before pointing his Uzi to the dealer's body, “There you go,” Killa congratulates Keith sarcastically, “Hold your chin up, Rick, grab his keys and wallet.” 

Rick cleans out his pockets before pushing him with his Nike boot covered foot. Keith stumbled while staring at the Uzi in Killa’s hand. He didn’t dare move. 

“Yeah...be a man and die right here like the rest of em’ you wanna steal from me? My money?” Killa spoke with squinted eyes and a tilt of his head, “I’m about to leave you layin’ where you standing.” 

Rick and PAC-man chuckle when they notice Keith wetting his pants. The dirt beneath his feet turned damp. 

“Ah, shit,” Killa laughs, “This nigga is pissing his pants…” Killa aims his Uzi for Keith’s left shoulder and shoots him. Keith screams with agony, clutching his shoulder. Killa shoots him in the hand that covered his shoulder. He paused again so that he could watch the mixture of pain and fear in Keith’s eyes. Maybe he was a sick, twisted individual for that but he thoroughly enjoyed watching his victims suffer before he really put their lights out. 

“Damn, I bet that shit burn,” Killa shoots him in his stomach, watching him fall to his knees, “Open your mouth, bitch, let that blood out,” Killa fired off two rounds in his chest, “you dip into my bag I kill you,” with those last words, Killa blasted Keith in his head between his eyes like the middle of a dart board. 

____________________

Tatyana Parham-Narvaez, a successful black business woman in Atlanta is best known for her line of intimate products and three luxury spa locations titled Tatyana’s Getaway. Tatyana’s Getaway boasts a fun yet relaxing environment that does not lose its chic and classic aesthetic. She believes that the overall experience is just as important as the quality of service that you receive. Licensed Esthetician,designer and Humanitarian, Tatyana holds yearly fundraisers to support other black owned businesses in Atlanta and also low income communities with food, beverages, clothing, and school supplies. 

Tatyana has cat-like mink brown eyes fringed with long lashes, cinnamon skin silken and glowing, a dainty nose with a ring, moist lush lips, a TWA with thick, dark brown spirals, short with generous curves, and a dulcet voice. She’s adventurous, some would consider that rebellious because she craves her freedom and can come off as quite the difficult ‘nesting partner’. She can be naive which explains her optimism, and she’s very independent. Tatyana never saw herself getting married but she found the love of her life just two years ago. His name is Carlos Narvaez and he’s an ex-convict turned businessman. Carlos Narvaez is a Party Promoter and famous Jeweler who moved from Miami to Atlanta five years prior. Los Ice and Gold is the place to go for many Atlanta rappers. 

Tatyana and Carlos first met each other at a mutual friends' album release party. It was his way with words, that dazzled her just like the ice around his neck and wrists. Usually, Tatyana would go for a much taller and more chiseled man but it was the way he articulated his words; bewitching her out of her panties, not to mention his beautiful smile and whiskey colored eyes. Carlos was the first man to ever sweep her off her feet with his mind rather than his dick. Carlos and Tatyana got married in Puerto Rico and just a year later they had a baby boy; Carlos Jayden Narvaez Jr, and soon after a baby girl; Nayelis Genesis Narvaez. Tatyana and her family live in Lawrenceville, GA, just 45 minutes outside of Atlanta. It’s a brick front suburban home with a driveway and a garage, four bedrooms and three bathrooms, a large family kitchen and dining area, a cozy living room, furnished basement, and a yard fit for summer occasions with a pool. 

As sweet and loving as it looks from the outside, Tatyana’s marriage is troubled. Carlos and Tatyana bicker a great deal; escalating out of control and into screaming matches, they don’t talk to one another about their problems and feelings, there is inequality between both of them concerning gender roles and decision making, and the level of sexual intimacy in their marriage is low or there isn't any at all. Since both of them are always so busy, Carlos Jr. and Nayelis spend more time at Tatyana’s parents' home than their own on weekdays. Although she has given birth to 2 children and married “the love of her life,” she still finds herself stepping out of her mundane life to mess with Erik. He’s EVERYTHING her mother warned her about—dangerous, doesn’t give a fuck, liable to shoot now and ask questions later yet is so damn enticing/addicting. 

Tatyana grew up in Bankhead,one of the places where Erik a.k.a Killa trafficked drugs. Tatyana’s baby sister, Tia, lives in Bankhead with her baby father and 8-month-old son named Demitri. From what Tatyana gathered about Erik when she saw him pull up in his matte black Mercedes Benz G Wagon is that he’s hood rich and he cares about his people. When Tatyana was leaving Tia’s home, Erik was talking to Miss Shay, Tatyana’s old babysitter, on her front porch. He was holding a white foam cup in his hand, and he was wearing a black beater with dark wash denim jeans and some black and white Jordan 1s on his feet. 

——————————————-

(Flashback) 

“Tati! Is that you?!”  Miss Shay yelled from across the street. She waved one slender and frail hand at Tatyana. Tatyana was still in her formal work attire; black pencil skirt, fitted peach colored blouse, and black peekaboo Christian Louboutin pumps. She walked across the street to Miss Shay, taking off her Fendi sunglasses and placing them within her Christian Louboutin black embellished clutch. 

“Miss Shay! Wow! You look amazing, you haven’t changed at all!!” Tatyana gives the elderly woman a gentle hug before kissing her cheek. She still wore that Sweet Honesty perfume by Avon. Miss Shay was known for being the Avon lady in Bankhead. 

“Me?! Child, look at you!” Miss Shay laughs before coughing slightly. Tatyana guesses that she is still smoking cigarettes, “Still just as pretty as ever! I was talking to Tia the other day about you, wondering how you were. It’s good to see you, Erik, do you remember Tatyana from daycare?” 

“Nah, auntie,” Erik says before taking a sip from his white foam cup, “I would have remembered shawty, trust me,” He brings the cup to his lips again, the gold watch on his wrist catching Tatyana’s eye. His stance was wide, shoulders squared, and brows furrowed slightly while his obsidian eyes never left Tatyana’s face for one second. 

“I was pretty quiet back then, and I didn’t like playing with the boys,” Tatyana says before blinking her eyes away from Erik. He’s attractive. Tatyana stole another glance, allowing her mink brown eyes to regard him from head to toe. Very attractive. The body art made his sinewy body appear more defined. She never knew a neck tattoo would look so good on a man. It’s a spade with a skull in the middle surrounded by shaded roses. She could feel his rugged energy and it made her shudder.

“That’s cuz y’all couldn’t keep up wit’ us, baby,” He laughs and it was so smooth and sexy. He must have a habit of licking his lips like LL Cool J, “And I liked picking on y’all quiet girls back then, I bet you say I don’t know a lot,” He smiles and the dimples blew her away, “I don’t know, maybe” he mocked with a sweet voice. 

“Jokes!!” Tatyana fought hard not to crack a smile but her lush lips turned up and her cheeks puffed out. Her laugh was a pleasant falsetto, “And you don’t know me like that so don’t come for me...Erik, right?” Tatyana says with an audacious tone. 

“Erik, leave Tati alone, please,” Miss Shay spoke with a stringent tone. Tatyana giggles, she can remember that tone of voice like it was yesterday when she was seven years old, “Tati, how are the children?”

“They’re fine, Carlos Jr. will be two in about four months, Nayelis will be seven months.” 

“I need a picture of them Tati!!! Erik bought me a cell phone, he’s been teaching me how to answer video calls and such.” 

“That’s so sweet,” Tatyana gives Erik a respectful gaze, “Well, let’s exchange numbers, Miss Shay, and I can send you some photos today.” 

“Oh! Let me go get my phone,” Miss Shay grabs the railing to her steps, pushing up onto her feet. Erik opens her screen door, making sure to watch her walk inside so she doesn’t trip and fall. 

“Careful, auntie, don’t trip over that part,” Erik was referring to the cracked concrete of her top step, “I thought I called somebody to come fix that? These motherfuckers man,” His irritation crackled, “You broke your toe because of that fucking step, ima give them a call when I leave.”

“Erik, calm down, don’t go roughing those damn people up because of a step.”

Erik closes the screen door behind Miss Shay. 

“She broke her toe?” Tatyana asks with concern. 

“Yeah, like five months ago. I’ve been coming to check up on her to make sure she's good. Dats my auntie right there, she means the world to me.” 

“I don’t know why I can’t remember you,” Tatyana says while her forehead creased in thought. 

“It’s cool, shawty, don’t stress your pretty head,” his eyes shot down to Tatyana’s matte brown lips, “Damn...you got some sexy ass lips.” 

“Excuse me?” Tatyana asks with a high-pitched tone. 

“Your lips, they're sexy. You got a man?” 

“I have a HUSBAND,” Tatyana clarified with a flippant tone. 

“Oooh, okay,” Erik held his hands up in surrender with a grin on his face, “You ain’t gotta get all mouthy on a nigga...my guess is he doesn’t know how to correct you.” 

“My guess is you have a habit of being in people’s business, Erik,” Tatyana spoke boldly, “and don’t no man correct me.”

“When I want to, yeah, I’ll make it my business. You’re feisty ain’t you?...how is ‘Hubby’ treating you Miss Tati?” 

Tatyana couldn’t believe the boldness of him. He didn’t waste any time trying to get at her. To be honest, Erik is the finest man she’s ever seen and that’s coming from a married woman. He didn’t need to know that, his head is already too big.

“None of your concern, Sir,” Tatyana shakes her head, laughing lightly. 

“I’m making it my concern though. Hubby doing what he’s supposed to? My guess is he’s not.” 

“Boy,” Tatyana rolled her eyes. Miss Shay was taking way too long to grab her cell phone. 

“Boy? Do I look like a boy?” He spoke harshly, “don’t be talking to me like you crazy Lil mama.” 

“I am crazy, but you don’t know me, remember?” Tatyana wasn’t about to hold her tongue with some hood ass, narcissistic motherfucker. 

“Yeah, I want you to keep that in mind and fix that shit before I fix you out here,” he warned her. 

“You ain’t fixing shit, who the fuck are you to be talking to me like that?” Tatyana was in disbelief. 

“You ain’t know?” He spoke arrogantly, “They call me Killa around here, ma,” he lowered his voice to a seductive lilt, “But you can call me Daddy E if you want, it’s up to you.” He says with a half-smirk. 

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Tatyana puts her Fendi sunglasses back on, “Can you tell Miss Shay that I had to run? I’ll just get her number from my sister Tia.”

“I’ll let her know,” Erik sips from his cup again, his eyes focused on Tatyana’s plush booty and shapely legs, “Now that I know Tia is your sister I’ll definitely be checking for you.”

“BYE, Killa,” Tatyana chucked up the deuces to Erik before entering her all-white Bentley. 

___________________________

 Erik was freshly showered and wearing a plain black T-shirt with a pair of G-Star relaxed fit black shorts and black Armani slides. There was a knock on the front door of his luxury Condo in Buckhead. The warm and stylish condo features a gourmet kitchen, three covered terraces, two bedrooms, and three bathrooms; one bathroom is a master bathroom with a side-entry shower. There is a wide-open living room that connects with his dining room. The building included an on-site lounge, a gym with views, and a palm-studded pool deck, and a spacious hot tub. 

Erik was only expecting one person tonight; Nicki. Nicole Brown a.k.a Nicki is Erik’s frequent fuck buddy. She’s slim-thick with round cognac eyes, thinly arched brows like Megan Good, golden skin with raised freckles on her face, heart-shaped lips with a gap between her teeth, and a full head of thick, voluminous 4B curls. She can be self-centered, and stubborn. Nicki hates being ignored and not being treated like she’s in the first place. There had been many occasions where Erik had to put Nicki in her place. It was strictly sex between them both...only sex. Erik hadn’t seen Nicki in a week and the girl was blowing his phone up with at least ten calls a day. He was about to stretch her little pussy wide the fuck open on his daddy dick, got to teach um they place so they can remember, he says. 

“Well? Can I come in, Daddy E,” Nicki says with a honeyed tone. The pink gloss on her lips matched her pink tongue and Erik couldn’t wait to stuff his pipe down her throat. 

“Hurry up,” Erik opened the door wider so Nicki could walk inside. She’s wearing a pair of little black stretchy shorts, a hot pink bandeau, and a pair of black mules on her feet. She has her toes and nails painted with baby blue gel polish on purpose because she knows how much Erik loves blue against her skin. 

“What have you been doing the past week,” Nicki takes off her shoes by the door, “I’m tired of you ignoring me, Erik. I missed you like crazy, you can’t be doing that,” Nicki threw her arms around Erik’s shoulders before kissing his thick lips, “mmm...minty,” She smiles.

“Don’t get too excited, we gotta talk first,” Erik removes her arms from around his shoulders, “did you want something to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good...what are we talking about?” Nicki takes a seat on his couch, “I have to talk to you as well...so my mom tells me that you threatened her? Fuck is going on with that?”

“You’re hella bipolar, didn’t you just walk in here telling me you missed me?”

“I did, and I still do, daddy, but you and I have a problem. She told me you threatened to kick her in the ass on Monday, E.”

“Did she?” Erik makes himself a small glass of Hennessy before joining Nicki on the couch. He takes a seat away from her, resting his back in the corner of the sectional couch, “did she tell you why I threatened her?”

“Doesn’t matter, THAT'S my mom, Erik. I know she’s going through some shit but don’t do that, I will kill you,” Nicki mouthed off. 

“You’ll kill me? With what? These hands?” Erik grabs Nicki’s small hands, laughing at how little she is compared to him, “you can’t even wrap your hand around my neck fully so cut that shit out.” 

“Whatever, asshole, DON'T threaten my mom again,” Nicki jabbed her finger into Erik’s solid chest, “Now you owe me...I want my pussy ate from the back.” 

“Hm,” Erik brings his face closer to Nicki’s, “Did your momma tell you that she got down on her knees, begging to suck my dick?”

“...what?” Nicki’s eyes glanced at his lips.

“She came banging on the door to my Trap House, pleading to suck my dick for some more crack...what you got to say now, shawty? I don’t hear you talkin’ back.”

Nicki swallows spit, before letting out a ragged breath, “She didn’t tell me all that...She’s been staying with my aunt to get better…”

“Next time, I think you need to get all the facts before you come up in my place getting buck with me,” Erik spoke with a raw voice so close to her face that his nose was touching her cheek, “And you know what happens when you get buck with me, Nicki...shut yo ass up when you talking all that shit...told yo ass I ain’t nothing like these other niggas, bitch, I don’t play that shit.” 

“I’m sorry, Erik-

“fuck your throat till I’m done...I don’t stop...you know I keep going.” 

“I won’t do it again-

“You will because daddy’s dick is yo favorite...you love sucking this big black dick...get my dick nice and wet...giving me all that good sloppy top like the freak hoe you are...telling me I’m yo favorite thug nigga while you suck on my nuts…”

“Fuck,” Nicki turned so she could face Erik fully. Her nose brushed against his broad one and the tickle of it shot straight to her phat clit. 

“Then you blowing up my phone all week like you ain’t got no damn sense,” Erik looks her up and down with eyes so ominous they made Nicki shiver, “Calling me ten times a fucking day...I hit you back when I’m ready, this my last time telling you, ma, hear me?”

Nicki nods her head before quickly saying, “Yes, Daddy E.” 

“I ain’t have this pussy in a week...she's still super soaker wet?” Erik’s hand found its way between Nicki’s thighs, stroking her pussy, “I can feel that clit poking...that phat ass clit...you only want me to eat it from the back because I suck it good from that angle.”

“Damn...I miss your fingers on my pussy,” Nicki spoke with a serene voice. 

“I miss that juicy mouth on my dick,” Erik roughly spreads Nicki’s thighs so he could see her pussy lips sitting nice and plump, “Big pussy on a tiny girl...I love that shit…”

“I need you,” Nicki says with her glossy cognac eyes filled with lust. 

“Not before I get my dick sucked you don’t,” Erik stands up, undoing his shorts, bringing them down to rest around his ankles. He purposely left his Armani briefs on so she could see his thick print jump. It pulsated and pulsated. His wide glans was peeking at her from the bottom of his briefs. Nicki has to pick her jaw up off of the floor. She had that huge black dick buried in her pussy so many times before and yet she still couldn’t believe he was packing that much thickness and length. 

“You need me? Suck this daddy dick,” He points to his crotch that he was blessed with. Nicki scoots over so that she’s seated perfectly in front of him before grabbing the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down so they could rest around his ankles with his shorts, “I need your lips to show my throbbing dick how much you appreciate every inch of me…” 

Nicki grabs Erik’s dick in her hand. She moves it up and down...up and down...then she sticks her tongue out to lick his slit. Nicki’s tongue wiggles slowly while her cognac eyes blinked up at Erik innocently. 

“Stop playing and put this dick in your mouth,” Erik says.

“This big dick right here?” Nicki uses her tongue to circle the tip of Erik’s dick. 

“Nicki...stop playing with me,” Erik’s fingers tangled around her thick hair and he yanked it hard enough to extend her neck so that she could look at him, “And you can drop that good girl act you know when you see this dick all of that goes straight out the fucking window.”

Erik was reminded of how much of a nasty bitch Nicki is. Nicki spits on Erik’s dick before taking him halfway into her mouth and sucking him with just the power of her jaw muscles. She started making those nasty, loud slurping sounds that Erik loves. Nicki grabs Erik’s balls to massage them before using her lips to slurp along the sides of his lengthy dick. 

“Fuckkkkkkkkk,” Nicki relished in the squelching sound of Erik’s spit covered dick in her hand while she jerked him slowly. She knew that he wanted her to swallow all of him but Nicki wanted him to make her do it. 

“This dick is thick and heavy, Daddy.”

“Oh yeah? It likes being sucked too,” Erik takes his dick in his hand, “so why don’t you hop on that and stop playing, girl.” 

“Or what? What?” 

“I’ll just make you...open yo’ mouth.” 

“Make me like you said you would,” Nicki says with a sly grin. Erik takes his thumb to rub Nicki’s bottom lip before dragging his hand down past her chin to grasp her throat with enough pressure to remind her of who is in charge. 

“I need good head right now and I need you to focus...give me yo’ fucking throat.” 

Erik slapped his dick on Nicki’s lips and she opened up for him, sticking her tongue all the way out graciously. Erik’s dick slid right in easily and with both of his hands holding her head in place Erik moved Nicki’s head back and forth. He watched his dick disappear between her glossy pink lips until his hands moved away from her head and Nicki was sucking all of him on her own. 

“Looks like you don’t wanna stop...I don’t wanna let you stop...sucking the life outta me...suck all that dick...yeahhhh just like that...you’re into that I see why you called me ten times a day…” 

“Mhmmmmmm,” Nicki’s eyes never left Erik’s and the eye contact made her mouth just as wet as her pussy. Nicki drooled all over Erik’s dick and the spit covered her chest, staining her bandeau top. 

“Suck that dick bitch, I bet you wish this was a daily thing for you...no matter where we are...If you enjoy it like you say you do be a slut and suck this dick whenever I tell you to.” 

Erik’s words excited Nicki. She knew it was in the heat of the moment because her sloppy head was making his dick swell but the thought of waking up with Erik’s dick in her mouth was a world she wanted to live in. Looking up into his fine ass face reminded her of how much she really REALLY wanted Erik to make her his girl. He kept talking that nasty shit to her and it made her take her fingers covered in her spit to rub her clit. 

“Nah, don’t get distracted, I got too much dick to not be getting it sucked...Mhm, you see that dick getting fatter? that’s cuz daddy is about to bust...all that fucking nut? don’t waste my shit, Nicki, don’t be wasting my shit bitch! FUCK!” Erik grabs his dick to slap it on Nicki’s tongue. His cum spurted out in thick streams. Nicki wrapped her lips around Erik’s dick, “get all that nut the fuck out bitch.” 

Nicki finished emptying him before licking her lips clean. She sat back on the couch with her face gleaming with saliva. Nicki turned around, arching her back and started twerking in her little shorts. Erik’s hands reached down to play with her ass while she bounced it for him. His fingers then start to rub her pussy from the back. Nicki starts thrusting her hips back against Erik while whining for attention. 

“I know what you need, baby, you know nobody’s mouth is nastier than mine. Who sucks on that pussy the best?”

“Daddy E,” Nicki moaned. 

“Who gets all that nut out?” Erik pulls Nicki’s shorts down to reveal that she isn’t wearing any panties. 

“You do, Daddy,” Nicki hissed when her pussy finally became exposed to the cool air, “my pussy is so damn wet.” 

“I’m looking at this fat, creamy pussy now...all that dripping from your pussy...and that clit…” Erik takes his thumb to stroke Nicki’s phat clit, “ima make you cum all over my thick dick.” 

“Please,” Nicki reaches beneath her to hold her pussy lips open, “Daddy, please suck on my pussy...please…”

Erik got down on his knees and buried his face in Nicki’s pussy. His tongue lapped and cleaned up all her cream before sucking on her phat clit from behind. Erik spreads her cheeks so he could have more space to lick her asshole too. Nicki’s pussy was fitting in Erik’s mouth so good that it made him thrust his hips like he was fucking her. He just knew the tip of his dick was leaking pre-cum. He was eating that sloppy, juicy pussy. 

“Daddy, yes, clean this pussy up and make some more,” Nicki licks her lips, “Oh, daddy, fuck yeah, oh, daddy, yes, right there, I’m gonna cum, yes, fuckkkkk, daddy, oh my God, daddy keep sucking,” Nicki shouts, “FUCK IM CUMMING!!!” 

Erik kisses her clit before using his tongue to fuck her pussy and asshole, alternating back and forth. Nicki didn’t know what to do with herself. One minute, Erik’s tongue is in her pussy and the next minute it’s wiggling in her tight ass. 

“Oh, shit,” Nicki could feel the sensation to cum creeping over her body again, “oooooo daddy you always eat my pussy so good!!!”

Erik helped Nicki get through her orgasm with rough spanking to her ass. His dick was painfully hard and as much as he loved slurping on Nicki’s phat clit he needed to bury all ten inches of his big black dick inside of her. Grabbing his jeans, Erik pulls out a magnum, opening it with his teeth before taking the condom and rolling it over his dick. Erik stood up while bending his knees slightly since Nicki is much shorter than him.

“You know what time it is, ma, keep this ass up so I can fuck you good, give you exactly what you deserve.” 

Nicki held her arched position, pushing her hips higher so she could provide a good angle for Erik.

“Got this pretty pussy with all this fat ass for daddy to pound deep and hard…” Eriks hips retreated back , and forth as he found her entrance . His tip felt that warm slippery wet hole and he eased himself in, just enough to hear those sweet little gasps and pants from her. Nicki reached behind her to grasp Erik’s upper thigh. He always expected that because of his generous size. 

“Aight, ma, ima put the rest of this dick in. Bite the couch if you need to,” Erik spoke casually. Erik slammed into Nicki hard, resulting in a huge slap from his pelvis against her plump booty. When he did it again her head flew back in bliss. He gave her another stroke, much harder than before. Nicki’s entire body from her head down to her toes felt that pressure and it caused her head to slump forward against the couch. 

“Yeah, daddy got that ass now...this what you like? All this dick in you? Fix your arch, Nicki,” Nicki’s mouth drew wide open and she looked back at Erik. Erik invaded her tight wetness, reaching every spot that needed to be stroked. Hitting every itch that had been yearning to be touched. Erik fucked her hard and steady. It was the rhythm of his toned hips knocking into her that shocked Nicki every single time. His back muscles flexed when his arms reached forward to grab the back of the couch. Nicki felt like this was the only man that could control her body as if he practiced it. His thick pole hit a spongy spot of pleasure inside of her. It felt so damn fucking good that Nicki started throwing her hips back, fucking him. Nicki started moaning uncontrollably, so honest that her body practically did it for her each time. 

“Fuck this dick! Take this shit!” Erik says all the while fucking Nicki himself, “I see you keeping this dick nice and slippery for me…”

“Mmm, daddy, you got me shaking and tightening all over that dick,” Nicki says between heavy sobs. 

“I love when your pussy tells me I'm doing a good job...you got more for me?” Erik pushes himself all the way inside until his balls slapped her clit, “dropping this dick in that big pussy?”

“Fucck..... show me who’s daddy,” Nicki could feel Erik hitting the bottom of her pussy with the tip of his dick and he wasn’t slowing down. Erik brings one leg up to rest his foot on the couch before grabbing Nicki’s hips. He started really plowing her pussy; plowing it so damn good that Nicki started sounding like someone went at her throat with a cheese grater. Her ass was bouncing like a ball against him. Nicki wailed and Erik could feel the smooth ridges of her vaginal walls ripple along the broad shaft of his dick. 

“Shit, I feel it coming, baby!!!!!!” Nicki’s ass ricocheted off of Erik before she went stiff, her thighs caving in like she was crippled. Her creamy orgasm oozed from her pussy and dripped to his couch. It was beautiful watching Nicki’s pussy cum. He could only imagine the overwhelming sensation she must be experiencing to cum on a thick dick. 

“Wow, look at this juicy pussy,” Erik slows down before stopping completely, his dick slipping from her snug pussy and resting between her inner lips. The sound effects her wet pussy made when the tip of his dick stroked her labia caused Erik to bite down on his pouty bottom lip so hard it stung. His eyes glinted with desire when he saw how Nicki glazed his dick.

“Come clean up all this mess, girl,” The corners of his mouth turned up and then a stream of hisses followed. Nicki slurped all of her sticky cream from Erik’s dick. She showed him her cum covered tongue before licking her lips. Erik needed to bust a nut now, hard and urgent. Taking a seat on the couch, Erik forcefully slaps Nicki’s ass, soundlessly telling her that she needs to slam that pussy on his dick froggystyle. Nicki’s weak limbs shook out of control when she positioned herself over Erik’s fat ass dick. 

“What you waiting on? Ride that fucking dick,” Erik pointed to his dick, “you see how you got my shit standing up? You better get on this dick and make me bust.”

Nicki guides Erik’s dick back to her overworked entrance before she finally lowered herself over him. Erik’s hands automatically grabbed each ass cheek so that he could have something to hold onto when he fucked her himself. Nicki started working just the tip of his dick, a constant whimper coming from her mouth. 

“Where is the rest of that phat pussy? Ride the fuck outta me, Nicki...my nuts are so goddamn tight,” Erik tugged on his sack, “Lil ass bought to have me explode up in this bitch.” 

“Shitttttttttttt, whew!!!!!!” Nicki finally takes all of him. She sat still while Erik’s hands still cupped her ass cheeks. 

“Just like that, girl, keep going,” Erik started pumping his hips, “All I need you to do right now is make this big ass dick cum.” 

“Fuck,” Nicki squeezes Erik’s shoulders and then with whatever strength she has left, Nicki started bouncing her pussy up and down Erik’s dick. The sound effects of her pussy increased with the speed of her strokes. With no warning, Erik started force feeding Nicki his fat dick. It was a good thing he had a grip on her ass because she allowed all of her body weight to fall forward against him. 

“Gotta get up in it...DEEP...know what I’m saying?” He spoke nonchalantly like he wasn’t making Nicki cry above him. He didn’t expect her to answer him, not with all his dick in her stomach. 

“Damn, fuck, shit, Oooh,” Nicki’s body started shaking and then as if a pipe burst she began to cum all in Erik’s lap, “FUUUUCK! Okay, baby, okay!!! Shit!!” 

Erik wasn’t listening, his dick was trying to drill a new slippery hole in her pussy. Erik’s dick was all up in her to get to that perfect spot where he knows that every inch of his fat dick is stuffing her. He was afraid that the more he thrust against her cervix that the condom would break. Easing up a bit, Erik grabs Nicki’s hips and starts moving her up and down his dick instead. His head fell back to rest against the couch while his narrow eyes watched the blissful expression on her face. Nicki held onto Erik’s wrists and her bandeau top slid down to rest around her slender waist. 

“You’re about to make me leak all in this rubber...ahhh fuck, yeah, you like this dick baby...you love being daddy’s nasty little fucking slut...yeah, ahhhhh, fuck...get on this dick, bitch, sit on this fat-fucking-dick, ride that fucking dick...ride this fat dick until I fucking cum…” Erik’s dick became so robust and rock-hard that Nicki began to scream from how vast his dick was making her pussy, “Fuckkkk, Nicki, you finna make me bust, girl, shittttttttt,” Erik’s hips left the couch and his toes curled. He filled that magnum to the brim. Nicki’s pussy damn near pranced from his dick and she was on her knees, between his athletically built thighs, waiting for her reward. 

Nicki removed Erik’s condom, his cum overflowing his dick from his wide tip all the way down to the base. Nicki strokes her hair back before using only her tongue to clean him up. This was routine, Erik didn’t need to remind her what to do. His dick was only covered in her greedy saliva now. Nicki picks up the condom, tipping it over in her mouth and squeezing the remnants of his cum out like a tube of toothpaste. Erik lightly chuckles, he loved how cum hungry Nicki is. 

“You taste so good...I could drink you,” Nicki stands before walking away with a dramatic switch of her hips to toss the condom in the trash. Erik sits up, his elbows resting on his kneecaps. He used his right hand to shake out his dreads. He was going to need to disinfect his couch. He could feel his sweat between his muscular ass cheeks. Grabbing his glass whiskey 

tumbler, Erik takes a sip of his Hennessy to quench his thirst. Nicki smiles while tipping her head down slightly. She loved the way Erik looked after sex, sweaty and undomesticated. Nicki makes herself comfortable on Erik’s couch, her knees to her chest and thighs wide open. Erik drew his lower lip between his teeth and furrowed his brows at her. 

“What?” She asked with genuine confusion. 

“You know it’s time for you to go, right?” Erik stated in a straightforward tone of voice, “I only let you spend the night that one time because it was 3 AM and I was too damn faded to take yo’ ass home.” 

“You’re such a Goddamn asshole. I just want my pussy ate again and I’ll be on my way,” Nicki spreads her pussy lips to reveal her pink center, “Candy coated and ready to be licked...don’t you wanna?”

“You know I like that sweet little pussy but I got a busy day tomorrow, ma. As tempting as that phat clit is...I gotta pass,” Erik settles back against his couch lazily.

“Not even a little lick?” Nicki begged.

“Not even a tiny taste, girl, next time though,” Erik closed his eyes and began to yawn. Nicki was staring all in his grill at his gold canines. 

“Fine. I have an interview tomorrow for this CNA certificate program so I need to rest anyway,” Nicki grabs her little stretchy black shorts from the floor, “When should I call you for some more dick, daddy?”

“I’ll hit you up,” Erik helps Nicki by lifting her bandeau over her small, round breasts, “the next few days I got a shipment of supplies coming in and I’m gonna be really busy. Don’t worry, I gotchu.”

“We’ll see,” Nicki fluffs out her hair before standing from the couch, “Are you gonna escort me to the door?” Nicki says with attitude. 

“Stop tripping,” Erik kisses his teeth, standing at his full height, grabbing a short Nicki around her waist before giving her a chaste kiss, “Why all that attitude? You know that shit don’t even mean nothing.” 

“Whatever, I’m mad at you,” Nicki jabbed her pointer finger lightly against Erik’s right dimple. She allowed Erik to walk her to the door with his arm still wrapped around her petite waist. Finally at his door, Erik opens it, shielding his nude body so nobody can see him. Nicki turned towards him, flipping him off before making her way to the elevators. She made a sour face at him one final time before jabbing the down arrow button. 

“Fix your pretty face,” Erik gives her a final air kiss, “I’ll hit you soon. Keep that pussy wet.”

Nicki couldn’t help but to blush at the last minute before the elevator doors closed. A wide smile was plastered to her face the whole ride down and butterflies were in her stomach. She felt like a teenager all over again, only this time she was getting dick. The elevator dinged and Nicki was back in the lobby, she walked along the tile flooring, passing all the paintings that lined the walls and the calming and soothing ambience of the blue and brown interior design. Nicki was just about to push open the commercial double glass doors when a woman with short chocolate ringlets dressed in a fitted, strapless, black maxi dress and black Birkenstocks with a cream Christian Louboutin tote bag in her left hand almost smacked her in the face with the door. 

“My fault, girl,” She spoke with an apologetic tone, “I left my damn glasses in the car...excuse my blindness.”

Nicki gives her a polite smile followed by a light laugh. Her smile faded when she noticed the woman’s red-rimmed mink brown eyes are glossy, “It’s cool, sis, from blind girl to blind girl, I get it,” Nicki noticed the look of confusion on her face so she pointed to her left eye, “Contacts.”

“Ah,” She smiles pleasantly, the warmth in it causing Nicki to smirk, “My mind is all over the place...pretty mules by the way,” The pretty cinnamon skinned woman complimented while walking away. 

“Thank you! I was just about to say the same about that bag on your arm,” Nicki admired it enviously.

“Thanks,” She stroked it, “My fault about the door, girl, have a good rest of your night.”

“Ain’t no thang, and you do the same,” Nicki gives her one final polite farewell before she turns to leave the lobby. 

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#Erik Killmonger #killmonger smut #killmonger imagine #killmonger x oc #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

It Takes Me All the Way

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “flower shop au” square. The following idea hit me in the head a couple of days ago & I couldn’t let it go until the whole thing was written. Here’s my bingo card  - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 11.5K  Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case?

Summary:

'For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime?"'

Or: the one where Tony's a florist and Peter kind of digs that.

Read on AO3 here.

---- 

After taking home the third, consecutive NCA Championship title, Peter craved a tame summer. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he had no dreams of furthering his cheerleading career by becoming a coach; while everyone else flocked to the NCA cheer champ coaching positions, Peter tried his hardest to create some distance between himself and the sport.

Of course, that was easier said than done when his very best friend was also a teammate. Since the day MJ pulled him off the gymnastics mat and thrust him not so gently into the world of cheer in seventh grade, Peter never looked back – not to gymnastics or the people he left behind. He didn’t naturally fit in with anyone, but with MJ by his side and an incredible amount of athleticism, high school passed by in a whirlwind of football games, competitions, and a rich education Peter clung to. Being smart was a way out of the conservative little town that would never accept the truth of who Peter truly was.

When Purdue became an option for the both of them, Peter immediately understood moving to Indiana was the next step in life’s adventure. It wasn’t the big city that he always imagined he’d escape to, but Peter couldn’t argue with a full ride academic scholarship and a spot earned on the cheer team. As a male with tumbling experience and a shocking amount of strength for his size, Peter didn’t have to wonder about his spot on the team – he’d been leading teams to competition wins for years. Stepping out of the narrow-minded world of Springfield, Missouri was the only thing that mattered; the ability to do what he wanted without worrying about where the money came from to do it – that was just a delightful bonus.

Despite the challenges of college athletics and a philosophy major, Peter managed to keep his close friendship with MJ. They’d been a stunting pair for ages and their similarities made it easy to not only be around each other but stay tight knit in their connection. Going through so many of the trials of growing up together, Peter didn’t know what life would be like without her. After coming out and receiving nothing but a hug and a shy “me too”, their bond was cemented – made permanent in a way that something shared tied one person to another.

Their undying friendship and ridiculous commitment to each other was how he found himself balls deep in wedding planning, instead of relaxing in the peace and quiet of his one-bedroom apartment, playing video games and reading all the books he didn’t get to crunch out during the busy school year. MJ didn’t even bother asking him to be her ‘man’ of honor – after popping the question to Darcy, she simply sent him a list of things to do and dove right in.

Between bachelorette parties, bridal showers, and the seemingly impossible hunt for the best bridesmaid’s dresses, Peter hadn’t spent more than a couple days of the break on his own. Though he loved the fuck out of MJ and her soon-to-be wife, he couldn’t wait for the wedding to come and go. A little peace and alone time was exactly what he needed.

Finally, after a week of long nights and last-minute errands, the big day was upon them. The beautiful ranch venue radiated with a rich sunshine, basking the place in a lucky sort of golden glow. Since he didn’t have to spend his entire morning trapped in a makeup chair, Peter got to enjoy the beautiful weather firsthand as he contributed to the set up and decorating. Aside from helping MJ get into the admittedly cool pant suit she planned to wear, Peter’s time was his own until an hour before the ceremony.

Grinning at the thought, Peter pulled out one of the reception hall chairs and sat down heavily. He relaxed into the comfortable wood, reaching up to run a hand through his formidable curls. They were sans gel at the moment; his fingers sailed through the silky strands with ease.

Peter wasn’t aware he closed his eyes until a loud clatter had them blinking open in surprise. Swiftly turning towards the noise, Peter stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

A big gray vase was the source of the noise, there was no doubt about that the second Peter spotted it. What completely took his breath away, or maybe who, was the man holding said vase. Peter saw tanned arms that were toned to perfection right off the bat. It was obvious at first glance that the owner of those limbs worked outside with his hands frequently. The lithe muscles and glorious golden skin tone spoke more of manual work than physical exercise. With his eyes travelling up firm forearms and the swell of a built bicep, Peter noticed the man’s hair next. Tamed by a plain white dad hat, an abundance of unruly curls flipped under the edges of the brim and sides. Peter imagined a flowing head of dark brunette hair he could easily slip his fingers into the depths of.

As if the man knew Peter was staring, he turned towards Peter’s table, an intrigued look on his face. A face that, after taking in the rest of the stranger’s glorious beauty, didn’t seem fair. Well-kept facial hair outlined perfect lips pulled into a knowing smirk. Rich, honey-golden eyes were just visible under the brim of the man’s sweat-stained hat. They seemed to pierce Peter right in the chest, like their unblinking nature dug under his skin and saw everything he tried so desperately to hide. The feeling was unnerving yet so exhilarating all the same. Though he felt so very exposed, Peter wanted nothing more than to narrow the space and get to know the handsome stranger.

Luckily, his chance came a couple hours later.

To stop himself from shamelessly flirting, Peter hightailed it out of the reception hall the second he could, using a check up on MJ as a guise for his obvious escape. Most of his friends were exactly where he left them at the start of the morning – it was a marvel that anything got done when they all got together. After braving the makeup talk and putting out a few emotional fires, Peter’s reprieve came in the form of a man of honor errand.

With MJ’s credit card in hand, Peter made his way to the front of the building where the florist was waiting. He’d been so glad to get out of the bridal suite that he didn’t stop to think about the stranger and the beautiful floral arrangement that’d been in his hand or to make the connection between the two. For the second time that day, Peter tripped over himself when the man came into view. Now that an actual need to speak to him was in sight, Peter didn’t know if he could make his mouth work to take the chance.

Recognition was clear on the florist’s face – though they didn’t know one another, it was hard to forget the very long, very obvious stare Peter was caught in. Those utterly kissable lips were upturned, the pinch around the man’s eyes from the grin making him all the more attractive. Rolling his eyes at the thought (like he needed to be any more attractive), Peter tried to school his features and return the smile with one of his own.

“Hi! I’m Peter, MJ’s man of honor. She sent me to square up the bill for the flowers,” Peter said in greeting. As the space between them narrowed down, Peter nervously reached out, his free hand suddenly taking up the space between them.

A surprisingly soft hand slipped into his a moment later – the touch was firm and efficient, only lingering a second longer than usually appropriate. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Please let MJ know that I really enjoyed the challenge of the flower choices. Geraniums are hard to come by this late in the season.”

Pulling away, despite the desperate want to have the man’s hands all over him, Peter nodded in understanding – most of both MJ and Darcy’s choices were high maintenance and unique. The planning of every step along the way had been an absolute bear. “That’s MJ for you,” Peter agreed with a light chuckle. “We’ve been scrambling around the last week or so trying to get all the details right.”

There was a shared moment of silence where the two simply smiled at each other. The florist seemed just as lost as Peter, the joint look of discomfort and wonder more telling than any words ever could be. For Peter, each second that passed was a small gift he gluttonously got to unwrap until the magic was broken.

“It’s her big day, she should have what she wants,” Tony finally replied, the words and a red blush breaking the silence. “I like the unique stuff, anyway – keeps the job interesting.”

Without missing a beat, a paper invoice was thrust in his direction. “I took out the delivery fee from the total since I was in the area already.”

After that, it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to complete the transaction – the florist worked swiftly, his fingers nimble and knowledgeable in every movement he made as he swiped MJ’s card and handed it quickly back to Peter. The brush of their fingers in the exchange seemed purposeful, though – especially with the smirk and red blush that followed.

Caught up in how brilliant the look was, Peter didn’t realize there was nothing keeping him there until the shuffling of feet brought the reality of the situation back with a vengeance. As much as he wanted to stay and chat, or ask for a number, or even a name, Peter knew the time wasn’t right. He already felt so caught up – actually having access to his preoccupation wouldn’t be good for his focus. It was MJ’s day; he owed it to her to keep his shit together and make every second of it the very best.

Looking up, Peter shot the other man a large grin before lifting a hand, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “I better get back,” Peter started awkwardly, “but thank you – for helping make MJ’s day so beautiful.”

With a nod, the florist pocketed his phone and took off towards the parking lot. Peter watched him walk away just long enough to catch the glance over work-firm shoulders. Hazel and brown met for a moment before Peter forced himself to walk away – a large part of him wanted to sprint across the black top to stop the gorgeous man from leaving. Something in the pit of his chest was pulsing with life; the feeling was so foreign that Peter pushed it down and quickly ran in the opposite direction, instead.

Peter got back to the bridal suite in a wonky haze – so much so that he didn’t even realize he walked through the door until MJ’s voice broke through his rampaging thoughts. “Did you get everything squared away with Tony?”

Turning towards her, Peter tilted his head, a crease in his brow appearing in his confusion. “Tony?” Peter questioned as he made his way over to the big table in the center of the room to deposit both the invoice and MJ’s credit card.  

“Tony – the florist. I sent you to pay the bill. Please tell me you didn’t get lost along the way.” MJ shot him a knowing look, her hazel eyes blazing with affection. “He was a great help these last couple of months – matching all the colors would’ve been impossible without him.”

His brain halted for a second, the organ doing nothing but processing the fact that his handsome stranger now had a name. Recalling the beautiful face, Peter figured the name Tony fit the man pretty perfectly. With that knowledge, it was quickly becoming obvious that his focus was already shot – Tony with toned arms and a delectably deep voice already took up space there, just waiting to distract Peter at the worst possible time.

Like that moment, where MJ was staring at him with growing concern, waiting for a simple yes or no to her easily answerable question. Peter shot her an embarrassed grin when he got himself back under control. Sheepishly, he reached up to run a hand through his hair. “All is well. He told me to tell you he enjoyed the challenge. Oh, and he nixed the delivery fee – said he was already in the area.” He tried to sound cool as he spoke, to not give his interest away. Yet he knew almost immediately he wasn’t successful – Peter heard his own excitement as the words bounced around in his ears.

“So it’s like that,” MJ said, looking at him much more critically now.

“Like what?” Peter shot back, refusing to look her directly in the eye. She already caught the scent – the second he gave her the satisfaction of seeing the truth in his eyes, Peter would never hear the end of it. Regardless of the very important fact that Peter, despite wanting to more than ever, didn’t even pursue the obvious and very mutual interest.

Instead of pushing, MJ surprisingly let a knowing smile overtake her face.

“I see you Peter Parker.”

Luckily, the hustle and bustle of pre-wedding preparations and nerves that were inescapable, swept the subject right off the table a moment later. Peter happily helped MJ make her finishing touches in preparation for finally meeting her wife at the end of the aisle. Getting so swept up in it all, Peter allowed himself to forget the hazel eyed man for the rest of the evening. MJ and Darcy looked so happy – it was hard to see passed anything other than their beaming smiles and the bright future waiting for them.

----

The next few weeks passed by in a flash. Peter finally got some time to himself and reveled in it, taking advantage of every second of solitary freedom he could purge himself on before his final season began. Movies, books, and his favorite video games were the only thing Peter allowed himself to think about (and Tony, so many of his thoughts were about the gorgeous florist). He even went as far as to bar MJ and Darcy from the apartment when they got back from their honeymoon – it was the least they could do after running him ragged with errands and things over the previous few months. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the bombardment of newly wed grossness; it’d been some time since Peter felt the luscious caress of love against his heart and soul – and jealousy just didn’t look good on him.

When his self-imposed isolation came to an end, Peter begrudgingly got back into a suitable routine. Though cheer practice was different without MJ there, Peter easily sunk back into the drills and full body workouts that came after an entire summer off on their own. Hayley, their coach extraordinaire, pushed them hard in the beginning – it was the best way to filter out those who wouldn’t make it when the season really got started and competition prep took over all of their lives.

Once his muscles got used to the severe beating he took on a daily basis, Peter was more than ready for the year to start. Football games and the atmosphere that came with being a Boiler were a lot of fun; and with his decreased workload as a fifth-year senior, Peter planned to enjoy the easy-going nature of spirit and poms and comradery before the teeth came out and everyone’s battle armor settled into place. When competition season started, the team’s overall atmosphere and driving motivations changed.

Of course, just when Peter thought things were going just the way they should, karma came around to prove him wrong. After a long practice the week before the semester started, one of their flyers fell from a stunt, completely unaware of her contact with the ground’s effect until someone on the other side of the mat screamed. The sight, when Peter allowed himself to look, turned his stomach – he’d never seen a dislocated hip in person before and hoped to never do so again.

After the trauma of having the paramedics all over their turf, the team was given a couple of days off to recuperate. Peter and the rest of the squad planned to take advantage of the freedom by visiting Macy, who ended up having to have emergency surgery to save both her leg and her life. Though he knew a bouquet of flowers wouldn’t change the fact that she would never be able to cheer ever again, Peter figured it was a nice touch and planned to have one made before heading to the hospital.

Googling the closest florist, Peter was surprised to find a shop so near to campus. Many of the businesses surrounding Purdue were food joints or bars that were guaranteed to get a lot of steady business during the semester and over the summer. He wondered, just for a moment, how such a random store managed to survive the college population.

It took one look at the place to understand why the shop fit exactly where it was. Instead of the old lady feel he assumed he’d find, Peter stepped in front of a large windowed building with intricate flower arrangements filling the visible shelves. On the far side of the door was a mural of the Purdue P surrounded by all types of flora. The word Stark’s was camouflaged within the swarm of vines and greenery throughout the painting. It was well done and in the perfect, eye-catching spot.

A small bell over the door rang as Peter walked through it – at least one of the cliches in his mind was accurate. Grinning at the thought, Peter let his legs carry him further into the store, his head on a swivel to look at all the beautiful foliage placed strategically from one wall to the other. Though he knew nothing of plants, Peter understood the art of drawing attention – he participated in a sport that perfected it. From the placement to the intrigue, whoever owned the shop knew exactly what to do to draw a person in.

Peter stopped his exploration when a recognizable voice echoed throughout the space – “I’ll be right with you.” Upon hearing the timber and depth that haunted Peter every night since MJ’s wedding, he almost turned around and walked right back out of the store. He wasn’t equipped for the gorgeous man and his distracting smile and eyes and shapely ass.

Before he could make his feet move or even think, Tony and his inarguable gorgeousness walked in through the back door. His hands were covered in dirty gloves, a newly potted plant in the crook of his elbow. A denim apron covered a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that peaked out the bottom. At the sight of him, Peter had to force himself to keep his mouth closed and the pace of his heart under control – much like the last time he enjoyed the view, Peter wanted to bound across the distance and intimately get to know the other man.

Met with a smile when their eyes locked, Peter reminded himself to remain calm and smile back, to actually act like a human person with thoughts and the ability to actually articulate them. He came in here for a reason, walking out of the store with anything but the arrangement he wanted to bring to the hospital was unacceptable.

Tony, upon recognizing him, took the first step towards intelligible conversation.

“Peter, right? It’s nice to see you in here! How’d the wedding go?”

Blushing at the familiarity, Peter dipped his head and took a deep breath, hoping to collect himself enough to actually reply back. “Hi, yes. Peter. It’s nice to see you, too. I was surprised to see a flower shop in the middle of college central, but your place seems to fit in really nicely. No wonder MJ was pulled in,” Peter said in reply, getting the words out all at once to make sure they all saw the light of day. “The wedding was beautiful. Both brides are blissfully happy, and your floral arrangements were the topic of several conversations I had that night. You do good work, Tony.”

Peter’s heart stopped when Tony tilted his head back into a laugh a moment later. How did someone look so sexy doing something so base? No matter what happened, Peter knew he’d never understand such a thing. To cover up his reaction, Peter added his own laugh to the mix – the sounds harmonious in the empty shop.

“Yeah, I’m sure my flowers were a hot topic of conversation, especially with those beautiful women in the room. Thanks for the kind words, though,” Tony mumbled through a laugh. As he spoke, Tony reached up to brush an errant curl from his forehead – without the hat, the hair on Tony’s head looked unruly and all over the place, untamed and absolutely beautiful. The move left the smallest remnant of dirt on his skin, the black flecks of soil like little calling cards with Peter’s name on them. His fingers itched to reach up and brush them away. Tony’s next words shook him of the thought – “What brings you in today?”

“One of my teammates fell and injured herself pretty severely. We, as a team, decided to rub in the fact that she’ll never join us on the mat again by visiting her now that she’s out of the ICU. I figured some pretty flowers might soften the blow,” Peter explained, coloring at the blunt honesty that trickled from his mouth.

Tony looked intrigued, the other man completely unfazed by Peter’s word choice and candid nature. “Must be a dangerous sport if you guys are nursing career ending injuries.” He signaled for Peter to follow him with a swift flick of his hand.

“I’ve seen some pretty intense injuries in my long cheerleading career, for sure. People flying through the air, and all that. I wouldn’t call the sport in general dangerous, per say – I’d say the expectations we have to meet are what’s dangerous. The look, the difficulty of the stunts we make our bodies do – it’s demanding,” Peter remarked, following a couple steps behind Tony as they walked.

“Sounds misogynistic as hell.”

Laughing at the truth of Tony’s statement, Peter nodded enthusiastically. His heart felt warm from the idea of the random stranger in front of him understanding his struggles better than May and Ben ever could. Tony didn’t know him, and yet Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling so seen. “Oh, it is. The beauty standards are unbelievable and if you’re a male in the cheer world, forget it – you’re fodder for mockery and intense judgement. I fit the stereotype and even I can’t catch a break.”

“What’s the stereotype?” Tony asked with a soft tilt of his head and curiousness in his eyes.

They stopped suddenly then – the space between them was narrowed down to a couple of feet with an abundance of plants surrounding them on both sides. If he took a step or two forward, Peter wouldn’t have too much trouble reaching out and touching Tony’s beautifully tanned skin like he so desperately wanted to. It took too much effort to stop himself from doing exactly that. How exhausting.

Without waiting another beat or giving himself another moment to eye kissable lips, Peter uttered the answer with subtle breathlessness – “Gay. Flaming homosexual is usually what people attribute to the men of the cheer world.”

Color travelled up Tony’s cheeks, his lips quirking ever so slightly. He took his time answering, the man obviously thinking through his reply before blurting whatever he had to say into the universe. “Huh. That’s interesting, considering football players don’t go a play without touching each other on the ass.” Tony stopped for a second, making sure to catch Peter’s eye. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Peter answered immediately, the words coming out of his mouth without thought. “Its been my life since 7th grade.”

“I guess that’s all that matters, then,” Tony replied softly, a small, familiar smile on his lips. “Now back to your friend – what’s her favorite color?”

For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime? I have a chef friend that makes killer steak frites.”

For what it was worth, the look of surprise that crossed over Tony’s face was brief. It made Peter’s breath catch in anticipation – for the first time in their short acquaintance, Peter felt uncertain. The feeling quickly passed, however; Tony’s face split into a beaming smile, the earlier surprise so easily replaced with seemingly genuine happiness.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I close up shop around 6 – are you free tonight?” Tony’s cheeks were stained with a rapidly darkening, gorgeous blush, hazel eyes shining.

Peter couldn’t remember what the next ten minutes entailed, let alone that evening – yet, whatever it was, he’d happily reschedule. There wasn’t a single thing that would stop him from saying yes to whatever Tony suggested. “I am. How about I meet you out front at 6:30? I’ll call Tasha and grab us a table for 7.”

Tony nodded, reaching across the counter towards Peter’s phone. “That sounds good. I’ll give you my number in case something changes. I’ve got a greenhouse out back and tend to forget myself. I sometimes lose track of time.”

Completely taken by every new thing he learned about Tony, Peter opened the phone and pushed it in Tony’s direction without hesitation. He didn’t expect the older man to be so forward – then again, Peter wasn’t all that surprised, either; Tony owned, operated, and supplied a successful business – he had to know what he was doing to some extent.

Watching with a delirious sort of haze, Peter followed as Tony’s fingers enter his number, then hit the green button to call himself. A phone on the back counter buzzed a couple of times before Tony ended the call and slid Peter’s phone back to him. “See you later, Peter. Tell your friend I wish her a speedy recovery.”

Numb hands grabbed the arrangement off the counter – Peter raised it towards Tony in a mock solute. “Until tonight, then.” Peter muttered the words excitedly. “Bye, Tony.”

He forced himself to keep his head down in hopes of actually making it out of the store. Peter wanted to turn around and look goofily at Tony – now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, there was nothing stopping his desire from slipping out. Since the wedding, Peter forced the thought of strong arms and bright eyes from his head, just to be haunted by Tony’s beauty when he closed his eyes and let sleep take hold. His subconscious wasn’t on board with suppressing his urges – the fact that karma played a role made the rightness he felt even more valid.

Tony wanted him too.

His visit with Macy and the team was an immediate drag to his mood – the mix of emotions of the people surrounding their friend attempting to express sympathy was exhausting. Every person in the room feared Macy’s position in the bed. Some handled the anxiety better than others. The one bright spot of the visit, of course, was Tony’s arrangement. MJ immediately recognized the man’s work and winked at him knowingly. Peter didn’t stop a grin from slipping across his face; in their silent means of communication, the look was answer enough.

MJ corned him in the parking lot everyone dispersed to an appropriate amount of time later. When the room started to get too cloying, Peter made his excuses, prompting everyone to follow suit. There was only so much sad he could take – especially when a potential light in his dark tunnel shone so bright, waiting for him just hours away. They stopped at the trunk of Peter’s car, MJ leaning against the bumper like always. “Peter, spill. I haven’t seen that goofy look on your face since high school. Did something happen with Tony?”

Snorting at MJ’s impeccable awareness, Peter shifted until he could wrap his arm around her. He leaned his head against the side of MJ’s, closing his eyes. “Your florist is the best-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I maturely held myself back at the wedding to be there with you in the moment and those karma points I banked were good to me today. I walked into Stark’s for some flowers for Macy and couldn’t bear to walk out without a chance to see him again.” Peter turned his head until he could press a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m happy for you,” MJ said, her thin arms wrapping around him. “When I first met him, I thought you two might like each other. He’s older, a little weird, smart as hell – just your type.”

“I guess there’s a reason why you’re my best friend,” Peter quipped. “Seriously, though. Thank you – you always point me in the right direction. I really like him.”

MJ pulled back just enough to tap her forefinger against Peter’s nose – the move their sign of affection for years now. “Go get your man, Pete.”

----

To stop himself from pacing up and down the hall of his apartment, Peter went to the fitness center on campus – a hard workout with the weights was exactly what his body needed. Sweating and listening to a couple of playlists took Peter away from his thoughts of dinner later and into a mindset that let him just exist. It didn’t hurt that the pump in his arms looked amazing by the time he packed up and called it a day.

Timing it perfectly, Peter left himself an hour to get back to his apartment, shower, and decide on an outfit that didn’t shout desperate, but expressed his implicit interest, too. Not living too far from campus made it easy to fret about his clothes after a lengthy shower that took every ounce of Peter’s willpower to not masturbate anxiously. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to face the star of his fantasies head on after beating off to the thought of Tony’s tanned skin and gorgeous smile.

After a few restless passes through every piece in his closet, Peter took a large step back, attempting to clear his head. From what he already learned of the older man, Peter knew Tony looked flawless in anything – his style was basic, but the casual nature in which it was worn made the look stylish, anyway. Tasha’s restaurant wasn’t the fanciest place in the world and the pressing feeling of being comfortable in Tony’s presence made an outfit pop into Peter’s head after a couple of long breaths that helped to calm him down.

Peter slipped into his favorite dark wash jeans, smiling all the while – it seemed silly, the anxiety he danced with less than five minutes ago. He’d felt nothing but ease and excitement around Tony, getting himself prepared for a date with the man wasn’t as life and death as he let himself believe. Stressing over something that felt simple in every other way was a new feeling – Peter carried an abundance of confidence with him everywhere. The change made Peter believe whatever might happen with Tony was different and so much better than any other romantic dalliance he’d ever taken part in.

The outfit was finished with a couple small sprays of his favorite cologne – Peter only broke out the fancy stuff for special occasions. With a tug to his rolled shirt sleeve and the slightest adjustment of his collar, Peter took a deep breath and wandered across the room to stop in front of his mirror. His straight legged jeans were clasped at the waist with a black leather belt that cut Peter’s figure dramatically. Both muscular and trim, Peter went out of his way to make sure each attribute was highlighted appropriately. A white and blue stripped short sleeve button up wrapped around Peter’s firm biceps and tucked neatly into his waistband to highlight the narrowness of his hips.

Aside from the rogue curls Peter couldn’t tame, he felt good about the way he looked – the outfit and the confidence it made him feel would be a hit. Tony seemed to like the upfront and honest way he presented himself, there wasn’t any reason to change that now. Allowing himself one last look, Peter turned away from the mirror and made his last-minute preparations – he pocketed his wallet and keys and grabbed a jacket off the coat hook on his way out of the door.

It took less than five minutes to get to Tony’s shop – without the daily traffic on the road, the drive was easy. Pocketing that fact for another time, Peter climbed out of the car excitedly; for the first time in a while, Peter felt ready to date. Tony presented intrigue and want and a curiosity that Peter hoped to cling to for as long as possible. The simple fact that Peter already felt that way spoke volumes.

A door shutting brought Peter’s attention to the sidewalk in front of him. He expected to find Tony turned around to lock the front door of the shop, yet the older man was closing a door on the side of the building instead. Even more interested now, Peter started to head in that direction.

“I live in a huge loft above the shop,” Tony said with a knowing tone, answering Peter’s unspoken question without any sort of hesitation. “When I first bought the building, a storefront wasn’t what I initially had in mind. After I opened up the shop, it made the most sense.” Tony continued to speak as he closed the distance between them.

A soft pair of lips were pressed lightly against Peter’s cheek before he could think, let alone reply. Peter felt his cheeks and neck light up with a heated flush, his body temperature skyrocketing. Tony’s next words only added to the feeling – “You look amazing, Peter.”

Swallowing his awkwardness, Peter smiled in Tony’s direction, finally taking the man in front of him fully. Tony’s legs were encased in charcoal grey jeans that were rolled twice at the cuff. The edges sat nicely against a pair of black and white vans. The tanned arms Peter hadn’t been able to stop thinking about were on display – Tony’s short sleeve button up was perfectly tight against a trim chest and firm shoulders. Other than the stubble Peter figured Tony always had, the man’s cheeks were smooth – highlighting how gorgeous the florist truly was. It didn’t hurt that their fashion senses were similar, either; Peter wondered for a moment where Tony got the floral shirt currently driving him crazy.

“You’re stunning,” Peter eventually managed to say, his breathy words finally breaking his minutes long silence. “You’ve looked great in every way I’ve seen you – covered in dirt, sweaty and working, dressed to impress – it’s kind of not fair, Tony.” Peter let the truth of what he just said sit transparently on his face. They were passed the point of coyness and subtlety; Peter wanted Tony to know he was wanted, even though they hadn’t known each other long.

His bluntness seemed to do the trick – Tony grinned widely in his direction, avoiding direct eye contact with Peter in obvious hope of getting himself back under control. “Charmer,” Tony muttered, stepping a little closer to Peter to emphasis his point.

After opening the passenger side door like the gentleman he was, Peter settled behind the wheel and onto the main road. Tasha was a former teammate, a senior his freshman year, that escaped to Paris – only to make her way back to Indiana and use the knowledge she gained in one of the cooking capitals of the world. Over the years, Silver became a regular place for Peter and the team to spend their classier nights. The food was amazing, and Tasha’s unique style made the minimalism the restaurant was known for interesting and thought provoking. When he called to make the reservation, Tasha cooed in Peter’s ear while saving his favorite table for 7.

They made easy small talk during the drive over – Peter described the pre-season workouts he’d been trucking through while Tony regaled him with a story of his last customer of the day who tried to steal roses by stuffing them down her shirt. As he listened and absorbed, Peter realized Tony was funny and full to the brim of wit – he laughed freely, the sound so joyful, Peter couldn’t help but join in. They were still chatting as the hostess led them to their table and set large menus before them.

Their drink orders were taken almost immediately – the serving staff was familiar with Peter and must’ve been tipped off before they got there. A bottle of red wine was set on the table before either of them could delve back into their previous conversation. Peter poured them each a glass, then pointed at the menu – “Did anything catch your eye?”

“I thought I’d go with the steak frites. Out of all the dishes on this extensive menu, that one immediately came to your mind. Seems like as good a reason as any to give them a try,” Tony reasoned, lifting the wine to his lips as he spoke. “What about you?”

Peter’s cheeks were already starting to hurt from the giddy smile he couldn’t help – talking and joking and simply being with Tony felt so natural. He didn’t have to think to reply casually to whatever they were talking about. “I get them every time I’m here. When Tasha first opened this place, she’d just lay dishes on the table when we sat down. I stopped being her menu taster when she introduced me to the steak frites. I haven’t had anything else here since,” Peter admitted, his cheeks flaming once again.

“You’re one of those people, huh?” Tony shot back, grinning all the while.

“One of those people?”

Tony grinned a little wider, his eyes shining with affectionate enjoyment. Before he replied, the older man slipped his hand across the table, taking Peter’s fingers lightly. “Yeah, one of those people. Someone that gets the same dish at every Chinese or Italian place they go to, no matter the options.” His thumb trailed over the back of Peter’s hand. “You like what you like.”

Feeling a little called out, Peter ducked his head to stop anymore redness from overtaking his skin – he probably resembled a tomato already. It was crazy – to feel so happy being teased. “Okay, yeah – I’m one of those people. I’ll try that one dish anywhere, though.”

They traded a few barbs back and forth until they ordered, and their dishes were sat down in front of them. Without the threat of interruptions in the near future, Peter felt ready to broach some of the more personal topics – for the first time on a date, Peter genuinely wanted to listen and find out more about the person across from him.

“So, tell me more about yourself – who is Tony Stark when not covered in dirt or up to his elbows in beautiful flowers?” Peter cut into his steak as he spoke, hoping the relaxed way he asked the question would take a little tension off Tony’s obligation to answer. The last thing he wanted to do was make their time together feel like an interrogation.

Tony didn’t seem to mind, though – he looked up with a tilt of his head. “What do you want to know? I’m shockingly not covered in dirt a lot of my time throughout the day.”

“How did your love for flowers start? Did you study horticulture in college?” Peter decided to ask.

Smiling lightly, Tony shifted in his seat, preparing himself for story time. “I studied Botany and Plant Pathology, actually. I have a doctorate in Plant Genetics and Soil and Water Sciences. During my plant genetics studies, I did some time abroad that took me to every continent – seeing the wide range of flora that exists in this world was the first time I ever thought about making plants and flowers a daily part of my life to the extent they are now.” Tony stopped to meaningfully catch Peter’s eyes.

“I used to be a professor at Purdue – when the restrictions of the lab became too much, I ditched the academic world and opened up the shop. I’ve been elbows deep in beautiful flowers ever since.” Tony winked in his direction, repeating his words jokingly back to him. “What about you? You cheer and charm unsuspecting old men, I know that. What else do you get up to?”

“You’re the only unsuspecting older guy I want to be charming, don’t you worry,” Peter reassured Tony with a soft chuckle. “When I’m not sweeping you off your feet, I study Philosophy and play a stupid amount of video games. Cheer and all that comes with it takes up a lot of my time, though. Most of my college life has revolved around football games and competitions.”

“Sweeping me off my feet – jeez, Pete,” Tony mumbled. His cheeks were red and the smile he wore spoke of happiness and enjoyment. “I took a couple of Philosophy classes during my undergrad days. What do you plan to do with an entire degree with it?”

A laugh slipped from Peter’s mouth at Tony’s question – though many people asked him that very same thing, no one presented it quite like Tony did. “You’d be surprised by what you can do with a Philosophy degree,” Peter retorted. “I want to be a bioethicist. My minor is Public Health – when I put my cheer shoes away for good, I hope to get a master’s in Bioethics and finally get into the realm I want to be in.”

Tony tilted his head then, his eyes roaming over Peter curiously. “What made you want to get into that? I’m sure there aren’t a lot of young bucks walking into higher education with their sights set on changing the medical world like that.”

Sucking in a long breath, Peter let the question sit on the air for a moment. He swirled the last of his wine in the glass before drinking it. “My parents were in a car accident a couple of days before my 10th birthday. My dad passed away immediately, but my mom – she hung on for an extra couple of days. There was a lot of internal bleeding that they were worried about. In all that worry, they didn’t wait for scan results or blood work to come back before they attempted a new, exploratory surgery. She didn’t make it back out of the operating room.”

Peter paused for a moment, catching his breath. “I was old enough to know someone fucked up and when I looked into it later, I decided I never wanted to let someone feel like I did in a crisis like that. There’s got to be someone who reviews the evidence and makes the ethically just decision to save someone’s life. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

For a second, Peter thought he went a little bit too far – there was a tense moment of silence that felt heavy after revealing something so personal. Peter bit into his bottom lip, not letting himself look up to see whatever reaction existed on Tony’s face. Then, a soft touch brushed across the back of Peter’s hand, Tony’s calloused fingers wrapping around his own. A brief squeeze had Peter looking up, his breath catching at the awe that met him. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Pete. Mine aren’t around anymore, either. It’s kind of cliché to say that you saw the deeper meaning of something so tragic, but it’s true. You’re using your pain to make the world better. That’s good shit,” Tony said, his voice hinting at a note of finality – like nothing would change his mind of the thought.

His certainty made Peter feel light, the weight of his emotional burden finally lifting from him after so many years. What a difference it made, to be so easily understood.  

That light and airy feeling followed Peter throughout the rest of the evening – he smiled widely as Tony talked about his greenhouse while they shared a small chocolate tart between them. For all that his physical attraction was worth, Peter was genuinely surprised to realize that he felt a personal connection to the florist, too. They led different lives but shared enough similarities to make the time spent together more than worth it. Peter liked Tony and from the looks and subtle touches Tony bestowed upon him all evening, Peter figured Tony might like him, too.

Tony proved that thought to be true when they pulled up in front of his place – “Do you want to come up? I had a really nice time tonight and don’t want it to end.” Tony’s words were said through a saucy smile, his intention more than clear in the look in his eyes.

Peter didn’t hesitate to give his answer – leaning forward, he gripped the side of Tony’s cheeks, using his hold as leverage to pull Tony a little closer. They met in the middle, their lips pressing together softly.

----

Things progressed pretty quickly from there. Tony led Peter up a small flight of stairs into an open room. As expected, plants and flowers were scattered around the place, covering all of the flat surfaces with adequate enough sunlight. A comfortable looking couch and kitchen table took up one corner of the room while a large, king-sized bed took up the rest of the free space of the room. There wasn’t much clutter and all of the things that Tony had, he more than likely used. It was simple and perfect, much like the person who resided there.

Tony didn’t let Peter take in the room for too long – before he could walk around and snoop, Tony’s arms were around Peter’s hips, pulling him close. Peter eagerly met Tony in the middle, their lips sealing together in the delicious slide of tongue and teeth and wet, panted breath. As the kisses deepened and their bodies moved closer to each other, Peter started to impatiently thumb at Tony’s buttons, his palms and fingers running over every inch of bare skin he revealed to the cold air. Tony followed suit; his movements much more impatient than Peter’s were. By the time they made it over to the bed, Tony was pulling down Peter’s pants and boxer briefs. He gladly joined Tony in nakedness before climbing onto the inviting mattress.

“Holy shit, this is comfortable,” Peter babbled absentmindedly, his limbs stretching as far as they could go.

“It’s the one thing I refuse to compromise on. I want to be comfortable when I partake in all the activities a bed is good for,” Tony replied as he climbed onto the bed and fit himself between Peter’s legs. “You’ll be even more impressed in the morning,”

For a while after that, there weren’t any words exchanged. Peter kept his mouth busy by pressing kisses into Tony’s neck and upper chest – Tony’s cologne was prominent, pulling Peter in the more he breathed the delicious smell in. Tony let Peter riddle his skin with marks and spit while he ran his hands all over Peter’s skin. Their hips were lined up and with every thrust Peter made up, Tony rolled his hips down until their cocks brushed delightfully. They were both so caught up in each other that nothing but touching and experiencing actually mattered.

It’d been so long for Peter that he found himself coming to a breathless crescendo fast. After a few minutes of passively letting Peter kiss him, Tony took control of things – his hips set the tempo and his hands and lips laid down the distraction. So overwhelmed from it all, Peter wasn’t aware of how close he was until his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. “Oh fuck, Tony! I’m – I’m going to come,” Peter panted out, his body thrumming with life and want and a desire he couldn’t hold back.

“Oh, Tony!” Peter practically screamed a moment later – Tony dirtily rolled his hips to toss him deliciously over the edge.

Panted breath filled the room as Peter rode the high of his orgasm. Tony placed tiny, teasing kisses against any part of Peter’s skin he could reach. Reaching down, Peter gripped the sides of Tony’s face until they were looking at each other – Tony met his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. “How good is your turnaround time?”

Laughing, Peter leaned forward to give Tony a kiss. His cock was already starting to fill out again – having Tony so close set his body on fire. “Ten minutes at the max,” Peter mumbled after a moment of cataloging his heavy limbs and the desire that was rampaging through them.

“Good. Then you’ll have plenty of time to prep me before you fuck me.”

Lost in the words for a moment, Peter was immobile until Tony tapped his side with a cold lube bottle to get his attention. “You want me to fuck you?” Peter dumbly asked, his mind still trying to catch up.

“Yeah, Pete. I want to feel you inside of me. Your body is trim and fit – I can only imagine how good you’re going to fuck me,” Tony admitted without shame. He moved out of the splay of Peter’s thighs, climbing to his hands and knees, instead.

Not wanting to lose his chance, Peter launched himself into action. He ran his hands over the planes of Tony’s sides and back, tracing the small scars and tiny moles scattered across pale skin. His fingers were eager to categorize and map, but his impatience was too great. Tony pressed back into him, as if he too was starting to feel anxious for what was coming next.

Uncapping the lube, Peter drizzled a good amount onto two of his fingers, pausing just long enough to warm the slick to body temperature. When he felt ready, Peter pressed the tips of both his fingers to Tony’s eagerly waiting hole, tracing and circling the muscle to spread the lube and relax the man he was touching. Little by little, his first finger slipped in without much resistance. Tony bared down against him and let the digit slip all the way in until the webbing of Peter’s finger stopped him.

Now that the warm heat was wrapped around him, Peter wanted to take his time, letting Tony get used to the feeling while he explored and reached. Tony’s entire body jolted forward when Peter finally found that delicate nub.

“Shit – do that again!” Tony shouted; his voice laced with a breathy moan.

Unable to do anything but give into what they both wanted, Peter continued his ministrations, teasing Tony with one, two, and then three fingers. He scissored and pressed against the edge of Tony’s rim, loosening the muscle as he went. When he pressed inside, Peter caressed Tony’s insides, just barely pressing against his prostate until Tony was humping back with exaggerated impatience.

“I’m good, Pete. I’m good. Please, I want you,” Tony pleaded as he reached back and felt around for whatever lenght of Peter’s skin he could reach.

Completely hard once again, Peter was more than ready to feel Tony wrapped around him – after an easy orgasm already, Peter knew he’d be able to make their coupling worth it. Opening the tube of lube again, Peter drizzled more of it directly onto the length of his cock, and then a bit more around Tony’s rim. He stroked himself a couple of times, then shifted until the head of his cock could drag through the lube coating Tony’s skin.

He teased them both for a moment, tracing Tony’s rim with the wet head of his cock to ramp up that initial moment of anticipation. Peter kept up his antics until his own body couldn’t take it any longer – every part of him craved the warm embrace of Tony’s hole. With that thought in mind, Peter used one of his hands to grip Tony’s hip, using his hold to pull the other man back against him as he thrust forward. Breaching the muscle felt like coming home – he threw his head back with a rough groan; maybe he wouldn’t last as long as he initially thought.

“Tony, Tony, Tony – you feel fucking amazing,” Peter panted through clenched teeth, his body fighting hard against the need to thrust forward and take, take, take.

Tony reached back to grab at Peter’s hand on his hip to tangle their fingers together, instead. They shared a few breaths while Tony got used to the stretch of Peter within him, the mere connection between them radiating a different sort of heat while they waited.

Finally, Peter felt Tony relax around him enough for his hips to draw back and press forward without much effort. He kept his thrusts slow to start; his cock was throbbing from the realization that it was Tony below him – picking up the pace was a sure-fire way to end things a lot quicker than either of them wanted. When Tony started to thrust back against him, however, Peter lost more and more of his control. His hips snapped forward, their skin slapping together to make a loud sound that echoed around the room. With every thrust in, Tony moved with him – the tip of Peter’s cock was poised to press perfectly against Tony’s prostate every time.

Between the sounds dripping from Tony’s mouth and the delightful squeeze around his length, Peter was a few thrusts away from slipping over the edge once more. He tried to shift so he could wrap his fingers around Tony’s cock to get him there too, but he was met with a long stare over Tony’s shoulder – dark hazel eyes were on fire, pushing him to thrust harder and forget everything else. Tony’s body was taut, obviously strung out and seconds away from breaking apart. Finally understanding, Peter straightened out his chest, gripped Tony’s hips in both hands, and let himself go.

In the end, it was hard to decide who tumbled over the edge first. Tony shouted Peter’s name and tightened impossibly tight around him. The extra stimulus was the perfect thing to bring the heat in Peter’s belly to an overflowing boiling point. He tucked his head into the sweaty length of Tony’s neck and groaned, Tony’s name and fuck and unintelligible noises added to the symphony their joining created around the room.

Managing to just barely turn Tony as his body collapsed, Peter hit the mattress hard – his cock slipped out of the blissful heat, dragging a long groan from the depth of Peter’s chest. Being inside of Tony already felt like home; both his body and his heart were convinced. Wrapping his arm around Tony’s hip to compensate, Peter snuggled into the man’s sweaty back, keeping their bodies close.

“I – Tony. That was…” Peter started to mutter, his brain still not back online like the rest of him. Tony looked over his shoulder, affection and appreciation alive in the hazel of his eyes. They shared a heated stare as Tony pulled Peter’s hand more firmly across his chest – they didn’t need words in that moment, merely touching and existing in the same orbit was more than enough.

----

After that first passionate night, Peter spent almost all of his free time with Tony. With the shop being so close to campus, it was easy to lean on Tony’s close proximity and the joyful happiness Peter felt whenever they were together. The natural way their lives just sort of combined with each other proved how right they were for each other. Where others were wrapped up in the time Peter spent away from them, Tony enjoyed the fact that they led separate lives. Peter got to keep cheerleading and Tony at the same time without the two battling against each other. He didn’t know it before Tony came into his life, but that level of acceptance was everything Peter needed from another person to both excel and feel happiness.

Before Peter knew it, four months were behind them – though it hadn’t been that long, most of Peter’s things took up space in Tony’s apartment and every thought Peter had revolved around the life he was trying to create with the older man. He even took the time to learn more about Tony’s body of work – they spent many of their afternoons together in the backyard with Tony working the greenhouse while Peter practiced tumbling or simply watched his boyfriend in his element. Peter couldn’t recall another person making him feel so dumbfounded playing in the dirt the way Tony did – it wouldn’t matter what the man did, either; Peter would find something to be amazed about.

It was Tony that drew him in; his personality, thoughts, and the eager way he gave back to Peter spoke to a part of himself that he never knew existed.

Which was how he found himself nervously awaiting Tony’s arrival at the Purdue football stadium – aside from MJ and Darcy, Tony’s appearance at the football game would be the first time any of his friends met the older man. The fall, much like Peter, was a busy time of the year for Tony. Between weddings, showers, and parties, Tony’s weekends were filled to the brim. The homecoming game was the first game that the home schedule actually lined up with Tony’s off day. He couldn’t wait for Tony to watch him do the thing he loved in the uniform he felt proud to wear. Selfishly, he wanted to see that same sort of pride radiating from the person he’d fallen in love with.

The forty minutes they were trapped in the locker room before the game started felt like torture – his phone vibrated against his thigh a couple of minutes after they headed in from warm-ups. Tony was navigating the stadium’s security to get to the sideline spot Peter secured for him. When they walked back onto the field, Tony would be there eagerly waiting for him.

Finally, the performance lights flickered, and they were ushered to their usual entrance. The large black and gold flag he carried in his hands was lighter than usual – his excitement pumped through him, the dopamine of happiness causing a rush of energy. As the announcer pumped up the crowd, Peter caught the eyes of his teammates around him, sharing the hype he felt.

Running across the thick white lines never felt better – by the time he crossed center field, Peter caught sight of Tony in the corner. His boyfriend was clapping loudly, the honey-hazel of his eyes glued to Peter’s every move. The familiar feeling that Tony’s love created in him spread through Peter’s chest, showing itself off as a giant, beaming smile.

They didn’t get much of a chance to talk throughout the first half of the game – Peter’s stunt group was responsible for the spirit stuff for the first and second quarter. Instead, Peter sent Tony messages with his eyes, showing off his skills and tumbling talents whenever he could. It was almost better that way – Tony got to experience Peter in his element without any pressure to respond. The crowd going wild around them only added to the experience. For once, Peter got to put on the show.

When Peter got to wander off after the half-time performance, he was wrapped up in a bear-hug the second Tony could get his arms around him. Peter was covered in sweat and glitter and the annoying little turf beads that always stuck to his skin, but Tony didn’t seem to care. The older man picked him up, spinning him around excitedly. “Pete, you’re so talented. I about shit my pants when you back flipped for so long down the field, but damn – the skill you possess,” Tony gushed, tucking his face into Peter’s neck to calm himself down.

Not wanting to lose the upbeat energy, Peter cupped Tony’s cheeks in both of his hands. Tony leaned into the touch, tilting his head back to look at him. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Peter started, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. “I’ve been on point all day because of you. I can feel you watching me – I want to be good for you.” The last words were whispered in his ear, the impact of them hitting Peter hard across his lower back as Tony wrapped him up and pulled him close.

“You’re the only thing I see,” Tony mumbled back, his tone all the sudden low and gravelly.

After leaning in to give Tony a heated kiss, Peter forced himself to pull back – he stepped out of Tony’s embrace completely. If he stayed there any longer, he wouldn’t make it back to the locker room at all. Smirking in Tony’s direction, Peter thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll never leave. See you after?”

“I’ll meet you out front,” Tony said with a nod, his anxious hands reaching out to squeeze Peter’s hand once more. “Keep kicking ass, Pete.”

His role during the third and fourth quarter was a lot more passive than the first half of the game. Since the Boilers were up more than two touchdowns, a lot of the crowd left after the first few minutes of the third quarter – that meant the younger stunters and less experienced tumblers got to have some time on the field. To stop himself from straying over towards Tony, Peter put all of his effort into helping his littles. It didn’t work nearly as well as he figured it might, but he got through the rest of the game with minimal distraction.

Hayley’s speech was inspirational and moving like usual – they were done with football home games for the season and their success was obvious and highlighted in her moving words. The next couple of months of the season were the calm before the storm and they were all looking forward to the small break basketball games posed for them. Competition season started after the holidays and no rest would be spared. Though he always appreciated her words, Peter wished for them to quickly come to an end.

Before he even finished the thought, Hayley was circling them up, calling out the cheer that they all echoed back. As he shifted to move out of the circle, a firm grip stopped him. “I believe this is for you,” Hayley said, handing over a classic red rose.

“Hayley, who’s this from?” Peter asked, trying his best to tamper down the hope that maybe Tony was the stupidly romantic culprit.

With a knowing smile, Hayley shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “He said you’d know.”

Pulling the rose to his chest, Peter ducked his nose to sniff at the crisp petals. It was de-thorned and freshly cut – Tony’s markers were all over the beautiful gesture. His cheeks were already sore from all the beaming he’d been doing all night, the face splitting smile only made it worse. Despite that, Peter wore it throughout his post-game routine and out the door where he ran directly into MJ.

“MJ! What are you doing here?” Peter threw his arms around her then, careful not to crush the flower still in his hand.

Thin arms returned the hug – MJ brought him tightly to her chest with a hard squeeze. It’d been a few weeks since they’d seen each other. Seeing her standing there, Peter realized it’d been too long.

“I couldn’t miss homecoming. I am an alumna after all,” MJ replied, her wide eyes never leaving him. Watching her closely, Peter felt a gasp leave his lips when she brought another classic red rose up, running the flower under her nose. “This needed delivering, too.”

Peter gripped the rose lightly, tucking it against the other one in his hand. Each of the petals were perfect and from the small lessons he got from Tony whenever they handled the clipped flowers, Peter knew what the giving of classic red roses meant. It only seemed right that Tony clued him in that way.

“Don’t fuck this up, Peter. I really like him, too,” MJ remarked as she moved in to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He kept her close for a moment, simply soaking in her presence. “He’s waiting for you out front. Go get your man, Pete.”

A soft laugh left his lips, MJ said that to him when she first learned about his date with Tony. It wasn’t lost on him how full circle everything felt. The rightness of being with Tony existed in every aspect of his life – each little sign made the delirious heat in his chest burn that much brighter.

Giving MJ one more squeeze, Peter broke away to quickly make his way towards the front of the stadium where Tony was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve such a sweet display of affection – Tony knew Peter appreciated the simple day to day life they were slowly creating with each other. At the same time, Peter’s heart was hammering in his chest at the thought that Tony deemed him worthy of such a gesture.

Peter found Tony leaning up against one of the large pillars just outside the exit doors. In the darkness, the honey color of his eye shone like melted pools of gold. Narrowing the distance between them became the only thing on Peter’s mind, he picked up his pace and practically threw himself in Tony’s arms.

The sigh along the length his neck made Peter tuck in a little tighter against Tony, his heart pounding with affection. He pulled back before the roses in his hand could get squished in the intensity of their embrace. Peter brought the flowers to his nose, keeping Tony’s eye as he did. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Peter sing-songed, grinning at the flush that spread over Tony’s cheeks with every word.

Tony nodded at him, tilting his head with a mischievous look of his own. “It looks like you’re missing one, though,” Tony remarked. The long stem in his hand was darker than the others, symbolizing love yet to be realized. Their fingers brushed as Peter took it, his brow quirked in intrigue.

“I love you, Pete. I’ve known since you walked through the door of my shop that you were special. Every second with you has made my life just a little bit better. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I’m mad about you. Over the fucking moon.” Tony walked into his space then, his hands cupping Peter’s cheeks.

Surging forward, Peter caught Tony’s lips in a passionate kiss, their noses bumping in the process. They sipped from each other’s mouths until the need to breath became pressing. Instead of pulling away, Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s, closing his eyes to revel in the contentment that wrapped around them both. After a couple of shared breaths, Peter blinked to catch Tony’s eye. “I love you too, Tony,” Peter whispered back.

With a wide grin, Tony leaned in again, mumbling “I know” against Peter’s lips.

#starker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #sfsummerbingo21 #bobbie writes #it takes me all the way #starker fic

[blueskrugs]

Four Times His Teammates Said “I Love You,” and One Time He Did | Vince Dunn

for @captainpetty​ and Erin who encouraged the hell out of me while I wrote this (and the other Vince 4+1 I was writing at the same time whoops)

length: 3.8k words

Brayden Schenn You’d been dating Vince Dunn three months before you met the rest of the team. You hadn’t minded, really. You were more than content to hang at one of your apartments on nights off, watching movies and HGTV shows and eating takeout. Vince had told you once that he didn’t want them to meet you purely because they could just be a lot, but sometimes you wondered if there was more to it than them just being a loud group of guys.  You tried not to be insecure, but it could be hard when your boyfriend was unfairly good looking and also in the NHL. 

You waited for Vince near the locker room after a game, nervously fidgeting with your phone, standing apart from the other WAGs. There were conversations happening around you as other boys trickled out of the locker room, but you stayed out of them, feeling out of place and like you didn’t belong. 

You were so distracted and caught up in your head that you didn’t notice that Vince had emerged until he swept you up into a hug, spinning you around once for good measure. They had won, and Vince had scored a goal in the process, and he was clearly still a little high on adrenaline. You laughed as he bent down to kiss you but ducked your head and blushed when you heard his other teammates whistling. You were pretty sure Vince flipped them off behind his back, but then he was leaning down to kiss you again, and it didn’t really matter.

A win meant the boys were going out, and Vince had told you he wanted you to come with them this time. You piled into his car with Sammy, still quiet as your thoughts raced. You had fought with Sammy for shotgun and won, but you were mostly worrying about whether or not everyone else on the team would like you. You didn’t really understand why it seemed so important to you that they did, other than the fact that you knew they meant everything to Vince.

The bar was loud and crowded, between fans and twenty-something large hockey players and their assorted significant others. All of you managed to find a spot in a corner. You were wedged up between Sammy and Vince, with Vince’s arm draped over your shoulders and a beer in your hand. You let yourself listen to their conversations, carefully free of hockey talk, save for when a particularly brave fan came over to talk about the game. The boys asked you questions for a while, but a bar is hardly the place for small talk. Your tables were near a dartboard, and Brayden Schenn and Colton Parayko had pulled away to play. You watched, resting your head on Vince’s shoulder, as they got more and more frustrated when the darts weren’t landing where they wanted them to.

“You ever play?” Vince asked, nudging your head a little.

“Not really,” you lied. Really, one of your older brothers and your dad had taught you when you were a kid, and you were actually pretty good. None of them knew that though, and you wanted to have a little fun. 

Vince lit up, just like you knew he would, and dragged you over to Brayden and Colton. He kicked them off the dartboard, suddenly excited all over again at the prospect of teaching you something. He spent like fifteen minutes pressed up behind you as he showed you how to stand, how to hold a dart, the right way to throw it. It was more than a little cute. By the time he was done, you were dying to tell him the truth, but you also wanted to play it up a little more. So when he let go of you and told you to, “Show us what you’ve got, babe,” you deliberately threw it poorly. And again. And through a whole game against Brayden and Colton.

“Let me try again,” you begged, eyes maybe a little too wide, voice a little too eager. Vince looked at Brayden and Colton, who both shrugged good-naturedly. “I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

“Put some money on it this time!” Perron yelled from the table. Okay, he may have been onto you a little bit. 

You pouted at Vince until he sighed and pulled out some cash for both of you, throwing it onto the table next to what Schenner and Colton had put down. You made sure to let Brayden and Colton go first this time. For dramatic effect, you drank the last of Vince’s beer before turning and nailing a bullseye. You were met with raised eyebrows, but you just shrugged.

“Got lucky, I guess?” You could hear David Perron laughing for sure now. 

The rest of the game continued like that, with your throws true to aim each time, and Schenner and Parayko very quickly becoming frustrated again. The rest of the guys were paying close attention now, joining in Perron’s laughter and chirps. 

“Alright, fuck you, what the hell?” Colton asked as you swept their cash off the table, but he was laughing too.

“Dunner, I think I’m in love with your girlfriend,” Brayden said, slumped over the table. Kelsey made a noise of protest somewhere behind you. You laughed and tried not to think about how good it felt to have been accepted, a smile never leaving your face for the rest of the night. 

Robert Thomas It was the beginning of summer, and you were at the Tarasenko’s (frankly, ridiculously large) house for one last team barbecue before everyone scattered to the four corners of the earth. The Blues had gotten knocked out of the playoffs early, and, honestly, it had been kind of ugly. Vince and Sammy had wallowed around their apartment for a couple of days, but today everyone seemed determined to bask in the sun and relax (and maybe drink too much beer). 

You had been in the pool for a bit, while the sun was still high in the sky, but it was only early May, and before long you got too cold. You were making your rounds, chatting with Jayne and Dayna and Yana. Vladi was in his element cooking, and Petro and Schwartzy were fulfilling their duties as team mom and dad, keeping an eye on the young guys on the team. 

It was loud and energetic, but it was comfortable and it was nice to see all the boys relaxed after the end of the season and the playoffs. You wandered over to Vince where he was part of the group playing Spike Ball in the grass. They were all way too into it, in the nature of being competitive athletes, and you watched for a while, sipping on a Truly and laughing when one of them ended up sprawled across the grass dramatically.

Vince and Sammy eventually got kicked off the game, and Vince came over and wrapped an arm around your waist. He plucked the Truly out of your hands and took a drink before making a face.

“Gross. How do you girls drink these things?” he asked. 

You scoffed. “As if you guys didn’t drink your fair share of Bud Lights when you won the Cup,” you said. Vince rolled his eyes but didn’t have a good comeback for that one. 

Vince got distracted after standing with you for a couple of minutes and went off with Sammy to annoy Petro. You were pretty sure Perron was encouraging them. Soon it was Robert Thomas standing next to you.

“What do you want, Robby?” you asked, at the same time Robert said: “Will you steal me another beer?”

Now, you knew Schwartzy had cut Robby off after two beers, but you also knew that he’d had at least one more since then. You shot him a look.

“Why am I doing your dirty work? I don’t wanna face Schwartzy’s wrath.”

“Please?” Damn him. You knocked back the rest of your Truly before sighing one more time and heading off to find a beer that you weren’t even going to get to drink. 

It was nearly ten minutes before you could make it back to Robby, and you only narrowly avoided being thrown back into the pool by Kyrou. You slipped the beer to Robby, who took it gratefully. You rolled your eyes.

“I want it on record that I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you, too,” Robby said, draping an arm across your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You let yourself smile, even though you knew he was a little drunk and that it was just the beer talking. 

Colton Parayko  The boys were coming home from a road trip, and you were in Vince’s kitchen, baking cookies. Technically, Vince had given you the spare key to his apartment four months into your relationship “for emergencies,” but you were craving snickerdoodles, and he had a better kitchen than you. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they’d been in California for nearly two weeks, and you knew that they were Vince’s favorite cookies. 

He texted you when they got off the plane, asking if you’d come over, while also warning you that some of the guys would be coming home with him.  You carefully didn’t tell him that you were already waiting in his apartment. You were just pulling the last of the cookies out of the oven when you heard the front door open behind you, and several loud hockey players spilled through the doorway. You listened as they dropped their bags and shed their shoes, focused on trying not to burn yourself as you transferred cookies to a cooling rack. 

You felt an arm wrap around your waist, and another arm reached around you to steal a cookie. You knew it was Colton based on the sheer size and leaned into him a little bit.

“What did we do to deserve you baking us cookies? I think I love you, Y/N,” he said, immediately followed by, “Hot, shit, hot,” when he took a bite out of the cookie.

“Careful, those just came out of the oven,” you said, ducking out of Colton’s grasp to run and hug Vince.

He was laughing, and he thanked you for the cookies with a kiss, but he didn’t say anything else. The rest of the guys crowded into the kitchen for cookies, but Vince stayed plastered to your side. There was a chorus of thanks from his teammates, and you settled into the noisy chaos that came with being friends with a group of hockey players. 

Sammy Blais The last time was actually almost the end of your relationship with Vince. It had been one of those stereotypically terrible days where you slept through your alarm, spilled your coffee on the way to work, and then nothing else seemed to go your way the whole day. You made your way over to Vince’s apartment after work without texting, but you knew they had a day off and would be chilling. All you really wanted was some food and cuddles, but you knew at the very least you’d have to deal with Sammy, since they still lived together. 

You let yourself in with a sigh; those idiots never actually locked their front door. 

“Vince?” you called out, kicking off your shoes by the door, but it was Sammy who poked his head around the corner.

“Hey, Y/N. He’s streaming right now, but I was about to order dinner,” Sammy says with a smile. That’s Sammy for you, always smiling. You groan, suddenly feeling tears burning behind your eyes. Your head was beginning to hurt. 

“Of fucking course. You know what? Forget I came here, I’m just gonna go home,” you said, turning back to put your shoes back on, angrily trying to blink back those stupid tears. 

“Hey now, none of that,” Sammy said quietly, suddenly behind you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest. Distantly, you could hear Vince yelling at his Fortnite game. “I’m ordering all of us dinner, and then we’re gonna lay on the couch while we wait.”

You wandered into the living room and settled on the couch, listening to Sammy order your favorite from the kitchen, before he came back. You could still hear Vince playing Fortnite in the other room. You vaguely wondered who he was playing with if Sammy was in here with you. It didn’t matter, though, because Sammy was pulling you into his lap and maneuvering the two of you until you were cuddling to his satisfaction. You immediately felt some of the tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders all day release. 

Sammy rested his chin on your head, your face pressed into his chest. Cuddling with Vince’s teammates was hardly a rare occurrence; they were almost always in some sort of dog pile, and you often got dragged into it. (You would never really admit to how much you loved it, and you would complain about being trapped under hockey players until the day you died.) Both of you were quiet for a moment.

“Are you gonna tell me what all this is about today?” Sammy asked gently, poking you in the side. You poked him back but buried your face in his chest a little bit more. He poked you again, harder this time. “C’mon,” he said, “tell me what’s wrong or I won’t let you eat.”

You knew Sammy would never actually do that, but you launched into the tale of your day anyway, beginning when you woke up and even including the argument you’d had with your mom at lunch, about Vince no less. You didn’t realize you were crying as you vented, more out of frustration than actual sadness, until Sammy tightened his arms around you, shushing you. 

“Stop that.” You laughed a little. Sammy was needy all day long, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was good with emotions, much less his best friend’s crying girlfriend. “That’s better. You’ve gotta remember that no matter what shit happens we all love you, right? You make us cookies, and who else am I supposed to cuddle with?”

Vince chose that moment to walk into the room, stretching. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, completely oblivious. You pulled back from Sammy, but his words were still echoing sharply in your head. Words Vince had never said, but so many of his teammates had no problems telling you casually. 

Vince Dunn You had been with Vince for almost a year. Just shy of eleven months, if you really wanted to get specific. All those months, and you had never heard Vince say, “I love you.” You wanted to see it as no big deal. He certainly cared about you, and he knew the little things like your favorite flavors of candies and the way you drank your coffee when you made it at home versus your Starbucks order. He indulged in your stress baking, and he stayed up late with you to binge your favorite shows. 

It was just something you thought about, as time went on, spending nights at his apartment, stealing his hoodies, and cuddling after long days and road trips. It was what distracted you when you were running your fingers through his curls, and it was what kept you awake at night when he was in another city. 

You had said it, more than once. The first time had been more of an accident, the “I love you” slipping out while you were laughing at a story he was telling about Sammy doing something stupid; you had both frozen when you registered what you had said, but you’d moved on. Soon you realized that that mistake was definitely not a mistake. You were falling in love with Vince Dunn, and it scared you. You told him again one night, in the dark where he couldn’t see your face, the fear of rejection you were sure was there. He had kissed you and pulled you closer, but he didn’t say it back. It terrified you, that you were falling so hard for someone when you had absolutely no idea how he felt about you.

You tried your hardest not to think about the stories you had heard when you first met Vince–all the things about wheeling girls at home and girls waiting for him in different cities. You tried to remind yourself of the nights spent with his head in your lap while you played with his hair, the way he looked fondly at Sammy when he was being an idiot, how good he was with kids. You had long since learned that the cool Vince Dunn who got into fights on the ice was a front; the real Vince Dunn was actually soft as hell, but only people he trusted could see that side of him. You’d seen that side of him from the very beginning, so surely he had to love you too, right?

All these doubts were running through your mind more and more often, and you started pulling away, shutting down–you were quiet when you were with Vince, and you found yourself making excuses for not spending time together. You didn’t think Vince noticed, either, but you missed the worried looks he shot you when you pulled away from his cuddles.

It all came to a head one November night when you were over at his apartment. He was still up playing video games, and Sammy had just gone to bed. You were curled up under a blanket and in one of Vince’s team hoodies, the 29 on your shoulder like a brand. You’d been thinking all night, but especially as you watched Vince smile at whatever was said on the other end of his headset; you weren’t really listening to whatever his response was. You had decided a couple days before, while Vince was on a plane home from a road trip, that you really needed to talk, and you’d spent the days since then rehearsing the words in your head, but they never sounded right.

“Vince, what’re we doing here?” you blurted. Okay, that still didn’t sound good, and you definitely hadn’t meant to say it right then. Vince looked up at you, startled, and you heard him mutter a rushed apology and goodbye as he ended the game with whoever he was playing with. He dropped his controller on the floor with a clatter as he stood up. 

Vince pulled you onto his lap, and you went, still tense, but tucking your face into his neck. “Baby, I don’t know what you mean,” Vince started. You both knew that was a lie.

“You know we’ve been together almost a year, right?” Vince sighed above you, and you knew those still weren’t the right words. “I love you, Vince, and it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, but I just don’t think I can stay if you don’t. I just-I can’t keep waiting around, I don’t think I can handle another summer of you in Toronto while I’m still here in St. Louis and I don’t know what you’re doing-” At this point you were just rambling.

Vince cursed under his breath and shoved you off his lap. You watched, confused, and more than a little hurt, as he jumped up and ran towards Sammy’s room as fast as he could in socked feet. He pushed Sammy’s door open without knocking and disappeared inside; you heard Sammy’s muffled swearing– possibly in French– and the sounds of Vince throwing things around.

You had half a thought to get up and leave when Vince burst back out of Sammy’s room, flushed and flustered. Vince was rushing back towards you, tripping over his feet and landing in a heap at your feet. Without thinking, you reached out and pushed his curls out of his face.

“I, shit, I wanted to do this well, wanted to wait until next month,” Vince said, out of breath, “but that clearly wasn’t the best idea.” What you thought was impending heartbreak was just fading into confusion. “I know I froze the first time you told me you loved me. I fucked that up. But then I was trying to figure out how I felt, and then when I did figure it out, I wanted to make it perfect, and then I had to ask for advice, and then-”

You laughed a little then, because Vince was the one rambling now, and all of his words were coming out rushed, like he thought you still might get up and walk out of his apartment right then, in your pajama shorts and his hoodie. “Vince, slow down, you’re freaking me out a little.” Vince just blinked up at you for a moment, green eyes wide and still a little frantic.

“I love you so much, Y/N. And I was an idiot for not telling you months ago. But I’m telling you now, and I mean it. I love-” You cut Vince off again, this time with a kiss, pulling him up by his collar to reach your lips. You felt him relax underneath your hands.

He climbed back up onto the couch, kissing you gently one last time. “Part of the reason I needed to wait was because I needed to find this,” he said, pulling a jewelry box out of his pocket. He opened it quickly to reveal a simple silver bar necklace, engraved with a small heart and a 29. You had to kiss him again. Suddenly the rush to Sammy’s room made more sense. “And when it came in, I had to hide it from you. It’s a miracle Sammy didn’t say anything. I was trying to figure out a way to ask you to come to Toronto with me this summer, too–whenever the season ends, for however long you can get out of work, I want you up there with me.”

Vince let you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again, sliding his arms underneath your legs to carry you to bed. You were tired all of a sudden, and you let him set you on his bed, watched as he carefully placed the necklace on his dresser. He climbed into bed next to you, shifting both of you around until he was mostly laying on top of you and you could wrap one arm around him and run your fingers through his curls with the other. 

“‘M sorry,” he whispered ten minutes later, long after you thought he was well on his way to sound asleep, the words mostly muffled into your chest. Your fingers paused until he made a plaintive sound and moved his head so you would keep going. You rolled your eyes a little. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” you whispered back. Anything louder felt like it would break whatever spell had fallen over the darkness, the quiet and peace you were feeling.

“I love you,” Vince whispered again instead of explaining. “I love you.” 

You fell asleep like that, with your hand tangled in his hair, and your legs tangled together underneath the sheets, murmuring “I love you”s back and forth.

#cait writes things #two fics in two days what is this #don't get used to this guys sorry #vince dunn #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic

[yourlocalauthor]

What Comes Around Goes Around

Chapter Three: Suprise!

Pairing: Topper x OC (eventually?)

Warnings for this chapter: Just some good old fashion cussing, and a slightly scary scene with an older male so take that with a grain of salt.

Word count: 2k

A/N: so excited to be back to writing! get ready for the next chapter it’s going to be exciting <3

Jo drove back home, pissed she didn’t have her lemonade, pissed that her feet and sandals were all sticky, pissed Topper was such a fucking idiot, just pissed at the entire world. Worst of all Jess and Elle went for a day trip on the mainland, and Jo had no one to complain to. She pulled into her driveway, aggressively, just wanting to go lie on her bed and scream. Her mind came to halt as she slammed on her breaks, her face looking like she had just seen a ghost. She had barely put her car into park, before rushing out of it with the engine still running.

“JJ?” She yelled running to the blonde boy who had stood from his position on her front steps. She engulfed him in a hug, tears swelling in her eyes. JJ winced a bit at the hug, but soon his arms wrapped around her, returning the hug, a little tighter than he meant to. The two stood there for a minute just silent. Soon enough the hug came to an end, once Jo realized she was also angry at him. She quickly let go, shoving him.

“Where the fuck have you been? And what the hell happened to your face.” She said now noticing some fresh cuts and bruising. She took his face in her hands examining it, as he started to speak.

“I went out of town for a few weeks, couch surfed with some people on the mainland, and-” He hissed in pain when Jo touched his cheekbone pulling his face away from her. “Jesus Jo!”

“Sorry! Get inside I’ll clean you up and then you’re telling me everything.”

“Yes ma’am” He said, giving her a salute before opening her door. Jo flipped him, before walking back to her car and turning it off.

-

-

-

“So, I was staying at this shady dudes place, and I think he was watching me sleep so I came back here and slept on some boats, until I accidentally overslept this morning and the cops came and took me to my dad. He was wasted when I got home, so wasted I guess he thought I was a intruder or something cause uh…” He made some punching motions, laughing awkwardly. Jo frowned as she closed up the medical box, and tossed the bloody cotton balls.

“That’s not funny,”

“It is a little,”

She shook her head, starting to bandage him up.

“Where are you staying now?”

“Not sure, probably couch surf some more and then figure it out from there.”

Jo frowned looking at him, she carefully held his face, examining his bruises.

“Absolutely not, you’re staying here. At least until we figure a more permanent solution. My mom wont mind, you just can’t fuck anyone on the couch.”

JJ looked at her trying to keep a straight face, but barely lasting a few seconds before smirking.

“You are a pain in my ass Jackson”

“Oh you love me” She said, rolling her eyes and shoving him again. He winced, reaching for his side. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I’ll get ya some ice.”

“Thanks.”

She walked over to her kitchen grabbing some ice and filling it in a baggie. “So, is there anything you need? Besides this.” She tossed it at him, before sitting down next to him.

“Actually, there is one thing. I left my backpack at my dads.”

“Oh that's fine let's go grab it right now,” Already popping up, and giving him a hand.

“Just one problem… I left it inside by the front door…”

-

-

-

“No it’s fine, I’ll grab it fast in and out”

“I cannot believe you are doing this for me, I owe you big”

The two sat in Jo’s truck, parked right outside the Maybank house watching. With a deep sigh placing a hand on JJ shoulder.

“If I die, make sure my mom doesn’t find my weed.” And with that she let go and exited the car.

The Maybank house wasn’t much different from when she last saw it. Maybe a few more dead plants but that was it. She didn’t come here often, this only being her seventh or eighth time visiting. Jo took a deep breath, as she stood in front of the screen door. Carefully placing a hand on the handle she pulled it as quietly as possible before stepping onto the porch. She stepped forward, being as quiet as possible when she went to open the front door. Creak The door made a loud creaking noise, as it opened causing the brunette to flinch. ‘Shit.’ She paused, holding her breath as she waited for something to happen. Thankfully nothing did.

She opened the door further peering inside. Her eyes instantly landed on her target, as she stepped inside the old home. She snagged the bag, and almost made it out of the house when. ChackChack.

“Don’t move.”

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck, titty fucking shit mother fucker why the fuck did she even volunteer to do this.’

“I want you to turn around carefully, no sudden movements or I’ll shoot you dead. Ya hear me?”

Jo stayed silent not moving a muscle, fear polluting her body.

“I said did ya hear me?” He cocked his gun again, this time taking a step forward.

“Yes sir.” She said, turning around, now facing him.

“Ain't you that pretty girl JJ hangs with, what business do you have in this house?”

“Sir, your son just asked me to grab his bag, that's all.”

Luke let out a hearty chuckle, the sound filling the house with a haunting echo. “Is that so? Where is the fucker anyway? He too pussy to come in, he had to send in his bitch?”

Jo stood there, not sure what to do or say. This had to be the worst outcome possible from this situation, and it was just her luck she had to actually deal with it.

“Hey! Didn’t your mother teach you any fucking manners? When an adult asks you a question you answer, now where is he?”

“Sir I”

ChackChack

“I’d choose your next words very carefully missy.”

Ptooey

Before she even fully understood what she was doing, Jo spat right at his face and sprinted out the door. She heard him yelling after her, and gunshots firing at her feet, but she just kept running. She swung the car door open, throwing the bag at JJ who huffed in pain. She reversed out of the driveway as possible, and sped down the street. It was only when they were a few miles away did she pull off to the side to take a breather.

“Holy fucking shit.” JJ said, excitement filling his voice. “I have never seen you run that fast before, you came outta there like a cheetah or some shit. Woosh!” He said laughing, before opening his bag.

“Yeah, I know I was there.” She said, rolling her eyes, before relaxing in her seat. “I think my heart is about to explode.”

“The fuck you even do to piss him off?”

“Oh you mean besides breaking and entering into his house? I spat at him?”

“No fucking way,”

“Yes fucking way,”

“You are officially my new hero, we have to throw you a party.”

“What? JJ babes I really don’t need that.”

“Nope! Party in your honor, tonight!” He said nodding, with a determined smile.

“No way you can throw a part in under three hours.”

“Watch me Josephine,”

“Don’t call me that,”

“Josephine, Josephine, Josephi-”

“Do you want to walk home?”

“No ma’am,”

“The shut the fuck up,”

Jo, turned around starting her car up again, heading back home.

“I still don’t believe you’ll be able to do it.”

“Fuck you,”

“Love you,”

Soon the car went quiet, until JJ spoke up.

“So, uh have you heard anything from the Camerons?”

Jo shook her head, tapping her steering wheel.

“I heard they threw a funeral for Sarah, and I did see Rafe at a party a few days ago.”

“Wait what?”

“Jess and Elle managed to drag me to some Kook party and we ran into him, he was def tweaked out. But Topper managed to get us out in one piece.”

“Wait hold up, Topper?”

“Yeah he even offered to drive us home-”

“Well did he?”

“Did he what?”

“Drive you home!” The blonde said in an obvious tone.

“Yeah we were all too wasted-”

“I don’t bye it,”

“Ask Jess,”

“I plan on it.”

-

-

-

-

Okay genuinely Jo thought JJ was joking around about the party. There hadn’t been one at the boneyard in weeks, everyone on the cut mourning the loss of John B. But now it was 7:23 and Jess was helping her pick something out.

“I swear to god Jo, you are not leaving this house in a bikini top”

“Jess it’s just a boneyard party-”

“That you’ll be the guest of honor at!”

“Jess babes it’s really not that big of a deal, I just won’t have to pay for my booze.”

Jess rolled her eyes, muttering something incoherently, as she sifted through the closet.

“Aha! Found it, here wear this.”

She tossed the brunette, some white really frilly shirt, causing Jo to frown.

“Absolutely not, here I’ll wear this.”

She pulled out a neon pink bikini, with a pair of black shorts. Jess shook her head, starting to put away the stuff on the bed.

“You are impossible Jo,”

“I know,” She said, smiling before walking over to the bathroom to go change.

“Are we meeting Elle there?” Jess yelled, changing into a pair of denim shorts and a white button up.

“Yeah, she has to wait until her mom gets home though.” Jo said walking back into the room.

“I’ll have to admit, you do look good.”

“Course I do.”

-

-

-

-

The drive to the boneyard was weird, for some reason it just seemed like time was going as slow as possible. Not that Jo really cared, her expectations for the part were low. She wasn’t expecting many people to show up, let alone be in a cheery mood. She was actually shocked today, by how lively JJ was. She remembered how devastated he was before disappearing, barely able to crack a smile, and never laughed. But as she pulled up to the boneyard, all her expectations were blown away.

The beach was jam packed, she hadn’t seen this many people here in what felt forever. There was a huge bonfire going, and multiple lines by the kegs, and at the heart of it all, was JJ.

“Holy shit! Did JJ do all of this by himself?” Jess asked, clearly blown away.

“I guess so,” Jo replied, almost at a loss for words.

JJ spotted her truck, and came running. The two exited the car, just as he made his way over a huge grin on his face.

“Jo you made it!”

Before she could respond, Jess butt in, still mesmerized by the situation. “JJ babes, did you really organize this all by yourself?”

“Well mostly, I did have a little help.”

Out of nowhere, Kiara and Pope appeared with two smiles on their faces.

“Surprise,” They both said in unison, still smiling.

Jo ran over to them, engulfing them in a hug. “You guys this is amazing,”

“Well, y’know this party is for you Jo, but we’re also sending a message. We’re letting those figure eight assholes know we're back, and never leaving. Again,” Pope said with a surprising amount of anger in his voice. Jo was a little confused, but didn’t want to question it.

“Well, I guess we’re back bitches!”

The group cheered, before walking over to the beach all catching up, and for the first time in weeks, Jo had forgotten everything that happened. At that moment, she was just there with her friends like it was any regular summer party. Little did she know, that night was about to unravel a series of events she never would’ve seen coming.

#obx fanfiction #obx #obx x reader #topper #topper obx #topper outer banks #topper thornton #jj maybank #jj outer banks #outer banks #topper smut #jj maybank smut #jj x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe being an ass #obx kiara #kiara carrera #pope heyward #sarah cameron #john b obx #john b routledge

[fallingappleshurt]

Secrets to Save You

It took me forever but I did it!!

“Tommy is worried about his brother and decides to try and find out what is bothering him but he might’ve bit off more then he can chew.”

(Also little side note, the duels don’t take place in the woods) I spent very little time rereading this so I’m gonna hate it but I have had this idea, THIS CHAPTER, rolling around in my brain since early July.

And I finally get to use it! Anyways hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4. Falling Towards Fire

Tommy didn’t know a lot about Techno but he did know something was wrong.

His whole demeanor seemed nervous, restless, almost skittish, and Techno was not skittish. He was jumpy and tense, randomly whipping around as if he was afraid of someone following them. Wilbur had accidentally bumped into him and Techno almost jumped out of his skin.

Something was bothering him to say the least and Tommy decided he was going to figure it out, no matter what, which was definitely easier said than done.

Tommy had been trying so hard to formulate a plan that he started to school only to remember half way there that he forgot his homework. Turning on his heels he ran back to the apartment, backpack bouncing against his back as his feet pounded against the cracking pavement.

He came close to the apartment building, his chest ached as he sucked down air, iron coating his tongue, when he heard the familiar creak of their rusty staircase. He stepped back, pressing himself against the wall and watched as Techno tread down the stairs, sword at his side.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek, Techno didn’t normally go out to duels during the day but he had heard Wilbur bitch about it so he must be headed there. This was perfect.

He could kill two birds with one stone, find out where Techno was going for the duels then if he knew where they were then he could go to them too and start helping out the family!

In the back of his mind he knew he should grab his homework and run back to school, he could make it before the bell, and be a good kid but the overwhelming curiosity and the familiar tendrils of guilt was too much.

He slowly slid off his backpack, watching Techno’s every move as he started down the street. He shoved his bag under a dumpster and hoped it wouldn’t be stolen then started to creep after his brother.

Tommy thought he didn’t know a lot about Techno but he did, he had picked up on some of his subtle mannerisms, how he would take different paths everyday to make it harder to follow him, how he watched his shadow and listened for other footsteps. He subconsciously was learning how to follow it.

He would creep behind by a few yards, always making sure he had something to duck behind in case Techno whipped around in a panic. Tommy knew that Techno was off his game, there were multiple times Techno shoved absolutely heard Tommy trip over his own feet but it was like he was preoccupied.

Tommy followed him through the third and fourth rings, trying to avoid the random dogs scuraging around in allies and rubble scattered across the ground.

He bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling ‘Hypocrite!’ as Techno climbed through a gap in the fence and started off into the forest, the vines around the fence swooshing in his absence.

Tommy’s hand clenched into fists, he had been told since he was little that leaving through the fence was a horrible thing done by horrible people without any regard for the safety their town tried so hard to provide. But Wilbur had claimed to do it before and now Techno had and they weren’t bad people, if he went through would he be a bad person?

Techno had said that the duels were illegal but were they out in the forest? Were multiple people breaking the law?

His nails hurt his palm as he tried to decide on what to do, Techno was getting farther by the minute but if he wasn’t able to catch up with him then he would be lost with the monsters.

He shoved his fear back in the box in the corner of his mind and raced through the gap and vines and into the unknown.

He had to know, if Techno wasn’t going to the duels then where was he going?

He spotted Techno’s threadbare white shirt through the dark foliage and rushed towards it only to find quietly navigating a forest was much harder than the familiar city streets.

Leaves and twigs crunched under toe, one rustling bush sent shockwaves throughout the whole forest, there wasn’t the familiar bustle of the town to help drown out any accidental loud noises. Randomly, Techno took a sharp turn and started towards the mountains. Stepping over roots and pushing away vines, Tommy followed. This was becoming much more than he thought it would.

Techno stopped close to the base of the mountain, looking around once more before jumping into a small cavern Tommy didn’t even notice was there. He inched closer, trying to peer in only to see Techno disappear through an inky purple veil.

In a panic he jumped into the hole and into the ink after his brother only to find himself in a world of heat.

He stumbled away from the veil, half falling, his knees and palms scraped against hot, sharp, scarlet terrain. Tommy jumped up, trying to orient himself, the whole world was warm, the sky was a dark foggy red with bright bubbling lava sploshing at the edge of a pool. The distance screams and grunts of monsters filled his ears.

He blinked against the dust, eyes watering and chest burning, as he desperately scanned the wasteland for his brother.

Tommy was barely able to spot him against the unrelenting red but once he did he raced towards him, wanting to feel comfort of being with him, he knew Techno would protect him. He didn’t know what was outside the passage or in here but Techno was here so he’d be safe with him.

Tommy couldn’t seem to catch up with him though, between dodging away from monsters and making sure he didn’t fall into lava holes he was pretty distracted.

Then he saw a massive dark structure over a lake of lava, balls of fire dancing across the sky, monsters walking along the paths, and Techno was heading right towards it.

He was half tempted to call it quits and just say Techno had absolutely lost it but they were already here so he followed anyway as they shuffled along a sharp edge before jumping onto the dark bricked structure and climbing down a staircase.

Techno continued until he was out in the open, closer to the balls of fire, he pulled out his sword and slashed at one. Tommy watched in awe, stayed back in the hallway, he had never seen Techno fight before. The teen twisted and turned, slashed and blocked, like it was an art.

His movements were calculated and strong, he managed to grab the drops of whatever he was fighting and still keep the other monsters at bay.

Tommy was so caught up in watching him he almost didn’t hear a familiar crackle of bones behind him.

Suddenly he launched himself sideways, narrowly missing the sword of a wither skeleton shambling up behind him. Tommy screamed, rushing out into the open, away from the hallway, towards Techno.

“Techno!”

Techno whipped around, face dropping when he saw Tommy.

“Tommy- what-what the hell are you doing- how are you- why are you-”

Tommy grabbed onto his sleeve, cutting him off, “Techno there is a wither skeleton!”

His eyes narrowed, pushing Tommy behind him, Techno ran towards the monster, their swords clashing, he disarmed it, sword clattering against the brick. Then sent a hard kick to it’s chest and knocked it over the edge.

Tommy relaxed only for Techno to throw his sword right past his head. He shrieked again as Techno ran in front of him, yanking his sword from the body of one of the fire monsters to ward off the others.

“We need to get out of here. Right now.” Techno said sharply. “This is no place for a child!”

“Oh shut up! You’re just a teenager-”

“Tommy!”

“Right! Right!”

Tommy nodded, ducking behind Techno as he stabbed another monster then grabbed Tommy’s wrist, dragging him back towards the stairs.

They rushed up, taking two steps at a time, Tommy trying to stay close when they reached the top Techno swore loudly. There were three more wither skeletons blocking their path.

Tommy felt like his heart was going to pound out of his throat.

“Stand back Tommy, it’ll be alright.” Techno put a hand on his chest. Tommy swallowed nervously.

“How? There are three fucks right there!”

Techno licked his lips, looking back at him with barely concealed fear. “Cause I neva die.”

And despite the situation Tommy found himself smiling.

It didn’t last as Techno stepped forwards, taking two of the mobs at once. Tommy stood there frozen, trying to figure a way to help when one started for him, he tried to back away when a fireball shot past his head.

He yelped, trying to dodge away from the fire and the withers prying claws. He heard Techno yell his name but everything was starting to blur together in a red hazy mess.

He lashed out, knocking the monster across the face, he cheered, ignoring the pain in his knuckles. The monster sloppily lunged at him again.

Tommy jumped back only for his foot to slip as he realized he was at the edge of the structure. He grabbed at the skeleton in a blind panic, desperate for anything to grab onto.

The skeleton was pushed away as Techno shoved it hard, shooting forwards he yanked Tommy against his chest.

Tommy felt an arm wrapping around his ribs, holding him tightly against his brother's chest as the ground slipped beneath their feet and they plummeted towards the lava.

#hehahe stroonge little chapter #one more to go after this! #mmmmmmmm plese tell me your thoughts :)) #mcyt #sbi au #sleepyblr #sleepyboysinc #mcyt DFF AU #Apples Writing #family dynamic #technoblade #tommyinnit #fanfiction #fanfic