#I was really wondering what to do with this prompt

[steddiealltheway]

1984 is not Steve Harrington’s year.

Not only does he find out that his girlfriend doesn’t actually love him, but somehow the creepy monster thing that united his now ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend, came back in the form of some type of monster dog.

The highlight of his year might actually be befriending a nerdy middle schooler who introduced him to said monster dog - which he named Dart of all things... something to do with a candy bar.

He groans at the thought as the music from downstairs carries into his room. For some reason, Tommy Hagan decided to temporarily ignore the fact that he ditched Steve for the new keg king, Billy Hargrove, who managed to give Steve something else to worry about while literal Hell crawled its way into Hawkins, in favor of throwing a New Year's Eve party in the Harrington residence.

Typical for the year Steve's having. Why not end it horribly too?

He glances at the clock, relieved that it's already somewhat close to midnight. If it weren't for the noise, he would consider trying to sleep through this one. Instead, he lays back on his bed and hopes that no one tries to disturb him.

As if the universe can hear his thoughts, and then curse them, the door to his bedroom swings open.

Steve sits up with a huff and frowns at the person.

A guy with medium length curly hair and doe eyes stares back at him with a big smile that screams chaos.

"Sorry, dude," Steve says, "Bedroom is off limits. Go hookup, smoke, or whatever somewhere else."

Instead of leaving, the guy closes the door behind him and locks it.

Steve scoots back on the bed, hand reaching back to wrap around the nail bat he leaves behind his nightstand.

The dude raises his hands in mock surrender, silver rings glinting in the light streaming in from Steve's window - blinds open enough so he can make sure no one does anything weird in his pool. "Listen, man, I'm not here to hurt you or anything. Although you might hurt me when you hear why I'm here."

There's something about his voice that sounds familiar to Steve when it suddenly hits him - all the yelling and stomping around on tabletops. "You're Eddie Munson."

Eddie smiles and bows dramatically. "Guilty as charged."

Steve's frown deepens, and for a fleeting moment he thinks Dustin would really like the guy. "So, why would I hurt you if I hear you out?"

"Because, Steve," Eddie draws out his name as if it has a deeper meaning, "I was downstairs thinking about what a wonderful year I've had, and I decided that I might as well start the year with a little chaos."

Steve's grip tightens around the bat in case he's some sort of satanic serial killer or something, although his gut tells him that he shouldn't be scared of the man. "What do you mean by chaos?"

There's a strange glint in Eddie's eye when he shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on the feet as if he wants to move closer to Steve but has decided to plant himself by his door. "I mean... I came to this party to sell my supply and after my whole lunchbox was cleaned out, I started thinking about who I should kiss at midnight. Or more precisely, who would be the worse option, or rather, the option that would bring the most-"

"Chaos. Yeah, I got that part," Steve cuts him off.

Eddie's smile changes to something genuine for a moment as he comments, "Wow, Steve Harrington is actually listening to me."

Steve rolls his eyes, grip loosening on the bat. "I'd rather you not stand on my desk to get my attention." To Steve's surprise, Eddie actually laughs in response and pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his smile. And to Steve's much greater surprise, his heart starts beating a little faster and he finds it harder to not smile back at him. "So, chaos?" Steve prompts.

"Right," Eddie says, rocking on his feet again, "Chaos." He ducks his head for a moment as if hyping himself up for the next thing he's going to say, which is when Steve entirely releases his grip on the bat, realizing that Eddie is more scared of him. "So, I thought, to start the year off with the most chaos, I would choose someone to kiss that would bring the most chaos. And I thought, why not the host of this party?"

Steve frowns. "Tommy's downstairs."

Eddie mirrors his frown. "You're not hosting?"

"Why would I be in my room if I'm hosting?"

"Why would the party be in your house if you're not hosting?"

It suddenly hits Steve. "Wait, you want to kiss me?"

Eddie takes a step back, hovering even closer to the door than he was before. "Consensually, of course."

It takes a moment for Steve to fully process what is being asked. "You think I'm the worst option to kiss?"

"That's what you're asking?" Eddie asks, trailing off to mutter something like, "The fragile ego of athletes, I swear."

"I got dumped this year. Of course my ego is low."

Eddie smiles bashfully. "Sorry, my uncle always tells me I'm not as quiet as I think I am." And there's something about Eddie's cheeks that are slightly flushed, the strand of hair he starts tugging at again, and the way he can't stop bouncing as if he's buzzing with energy and nerves that makes him so...

"Yes," Steve blurts out suddenly. For a moment, he wonders if the mindf- mind fly? mind... whatever evil thing from a few weeks ago has possessed him.

"Yes what?" Eddie asks sounding genuinely confused. As Steve stands up to look out his blinds and shut them, Eddie rambles, "Yes, I'm not as quiet as I think I am? Or yes, you're about to punch me, and I'm going to finally figure out how it felt when you got your face bashed in a few weeks ago?"

Steve rolls his eyes before holding up both of his hands, mimicking Eddie's pose when he first came into the room. "Yes, I'll kiss you."

It's as if Eddie has forgotten he's asked the question the way his jaw drops, and he stares at Steve like he's said the most confusing thing he's ever heard. Which... to be fair... is highly likely.

"You want to kiss me?"

Steve takes a small step closer to Eddie. "I want to give you your chaos."' When Eddie doesn't look convinced, Steve takes a step closer to him, hand running through his hair as he continues, "Who knows, maybe it'll give me good luck or something for next year by cancelling out the chaos from this year."

Eddie nods. "Okay. You're giving me your chaos. Yeah. That makes sense."

"And you're taking my chaos away," Steve agrees, trying to tell himself that this is a rational decision. "This makes sense."

"You're not going to beat me up?" Eddie asks, risking a small step away from the door.

Steve shakes his head. "Seems like a bad way to start the year, don't you think?"

Eddie nods as Steve steps closer to him, slowly, as if not to startle him away. "You know, I thought just asking you would be chaotic enough as is and then I could run away and pretend you hallucinated or something when you tried to beat me up."

"Should've asked Hargrove then," Steve says, cocking his head to the side. "Does that mean you don't actually want to kiss me?"

Eddie swallows and shakes his head. "I didn't say that."

Just as Steve gets in front of Eddie, he hears people downstairs counting down from ten. "Good," Steve says, "Because there isn't enough time to find someone else."

Eddie scoffs, the countdown now at eight, "That's not true for you."

"Maybe, but I'm not really looking to find anyone else right now. Are you?" Five.

Eddie smiles and takes a step forward. "No." Three.

Steve reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear. "Good." One.

Steve's not really sure who moves first or if they move together, but the yells of, "Happy New Year" are drowned out as Eddie's lips meet his in a kiss that feels more desperate than Steve expected. He's not sure why they're kissing as if the countdown was for the end of the world, but he really doesn't care.

It's only when Steve's gets a little carried away, Eddie's back slams against Steve's door with a thud that's loud enough to alert anyone that something's happening in Steve's room, that Steve breaks away with a gasp, seeking the air Eddie's stolen from him. He wonders if - hopes - it's the chaos he's taken.

"Happy New Year," Steve whispers, hands cupping Eddie's face while Eddie's are tangled in the mess he's made of Steve's hair. He's not sure when either of those things happened.

"Happy fucking New Year, Steve," Eddie mutters, hands slowly dropping from his hair.

Steve's hands hold onto Eddie's face a little tighter for a moment, and he sees the moment a bit of fear sparks in Eddie's eyes. Steve quickly shakes his head. "No, I'm not about to beat you up. It's just... I kind of slammed you against the door a little hard there, and if someone else is up here and they see you..."

"Chaos," Eddie fills in with a nod, "And not the good kind."

"Yeah," Steve sighs, "Not the good kind." He glances to his window where the blinds are firmly shut - thank you Jonathan for teaching him that lesson - and down at the locked doorknob before looking back at Eddie. He glances at his lips momentarily before blurting out, "Stay with me."

Eddie's jaw drops, mouth opening slightly in shock.

Steve steps back, hands reluctantly leaving Eddie's face. "Stay until everyone clears out at least. No ulterior motive."

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets and moves back into Steve's space. "What if I want there to be an ulterior motive?" He tilts his head down and gives Steve a case of lethal puppy dog eyes. "Fully take your chaos away, remember?"

Steve is absolutely sure that this in no way will take away the chaos of his previous year and will likely only invite questions, confusion, and further chaos into 1985.

"Yeah, I remember," Steve says, pulling Eddie into another desperate kiss.

Maybe Eddie was onto something about starting the year with a little chaos. And maybe 1985 will be his year.

(i accidentally wrote a tiny epilogue later in the tags that i really like)

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 4

In which the real world threatens to ruin your happiness.

Warnings: angsttttttttt :) fluff at the end tho!! Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 3.6k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted:

yourusername life lately ❤️ BFFSarah omg, someone who loves pizza just as much as Stelly Belly??? >>>yourusername they polished off a large pizza between the two of them. It was a sight to see. >>>land-ho WE WERE HUNGRY. >>>yourusername you bet my six year old she couldn't eat 4 pieces of pizza, sir. >>>land-ho AND SHE PUT DOWN FIVE! Proudest moment of my LIFE. >>>yourusername 🙄

land-ho (private) posted

land-ho party of three? smoooooth_operator it was good to see you two last night! >>>yourusername dinner was delicious, C!! tell R thank you for all the shopping reccos in Barcelona 🤭 >>>landonorris oh god, my wallet already hurts >>>yourusername well now i'm never going to beat the sugar baby allegations. >>>honeybadger y'all are a walking PR nightmare waiting to happen. kelly_pickme i must meet your two favorite girls soon! bring them to Monaco soon! >>>yourusername 😘 did L give M the lion plushie and princess dress for baby and P? can't wait to meet you all soon!! >>>kelly_pickme yes! P hasn't taken it off and the lion is a hit as well. >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

Miami May, 2025

"Okay, anything else you guys want to talk about before we start filming?" Victor, the team's head of communications, asks on Thursday afternoon.

Victor sits in one of the several conference rooms located in McLaren's hospitality suite surrounded by the rest of the communications team as well as Lando and Oscar. The weekend debrief is wrapping up as he asks one last question.

"Actually, kind of." Lando clears his throat, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

The entire team turns to him then and he feels his face go a bit red. He hadn't really planned on making a big deal of this in front of the team but after his meeting with Zak earlier, he thought he should at least let the comms team in on what he was going to do tonight.

"What's up?" Victor prompts, tucking his iPad under his arm.

"Well, it's more of a 'heads up' kind of thing but Zak thought I should let you guys know that I'm planning on going public with my girlfriend tonight."

Out of the corner of his eye, Lando sees Oscar smirk. He can almost hear the 'well it's about time' teasing he's about to get when they wrap up this meeting.

Victor blinks, casting a sideways glance at Melanie, Lando's main press officer for the weekend. He could tell Victor was reluctant to agree but in all honesty, this wasn't his call and Lando was ready to make that known. "What were you planning on doing?"

Melanie pulls out a notepad to take notes, just in case she's asked about the relationship this weekend.

You were also in Miami this weekend for your second race of the season and the subject had come up last night as you were cuddled up in bed after Lando had posted about you and Stella on his private account for the first time. You had been hesitant at first, not wanting to bring the team or Lando any drama during the race weekend but he had been insistent. While you hadn't been together officially for very long, you spent nearly every spare moment together and Stella had become a huge part of Lando's life too. He was tired of being linked to endless Instagram models and having to hide you away from the public.

Lando shrugs. "Nothing big or anything, just a post of my feed with her, some kind of witty caption."

"She's the one who works in the accounting department?" Melanie asks.

Lando can't help but glare at the woman. She's in her mid-30s with mousey brown hair and wire rimmed glasses. Melanie was kind enough but sometimes Lando wondered if she had any of the media training that was forced on him and Oscar with the kinds of questions she asked him.

"No, she's on the product development team, and she's right over there." Lando tips his chin towards the large glass windows that looks out onto the rest of the hospitality suite where you sit at one of the tables typing away at your laptop.

"Isn't she a single mom?"

Again, Lando glares at Melanie as the rest of the team shifts uncomfortably in their seat. Sure, it was their job to handle any press inquiries that came into the office and sometimes there were personal questions that got asked, but that one was toeing the line of appropriate.

"I don't see why that makes any sort of difference." Oscar surprises everyone by speaking up, his tone a bit colder than usual. "I've worked with her a lot lately, she's a lovely person and wicked smart. Lando's a lucky guy."

"Thanks, mate." Lando murmurs before turning back to Victor. "HR is aware of our relationship and, not that it should matter," Lando looks pointedly at Melanie once again, and is pleased to see her look a bit sheepish as if she's just realized how inappropriate her questions had been. "But Zak is also aware that we're together and has given us his blessing too."

That had been an awkward conversation but Lando admired the McLaren CEO too much to leave him in the dark about something that involved his two employees. He'd scoured the McLaren employee handbook (thankfully there was nothing in it against fraternization of employees, so HR hadn't been a problem either) before approaching Zak first to tell him about the relationship. If there was anyone that Zak Brown loved more than Lando, it was you so of course he had been ecstatic at the news and had immediately given the relationship his full support.

Without waiting for further comment from anyone, Lando gets up and strides out the door, furious at how the ending of the meeting had gone. There were far more problematic WAGs in the paddock and you were a McLaren employee after all, shouldn't you expect the same support from the team as he did? He didn't really understand why it was such a big deal that you were a single mom or technically a coworker.

From your spot in the middle of the hospitality suite you can see when Lando walks out of the conference room, hyper aware of the way his shoulders are hitched up towards his ears, something that only happens when he's upset or stressed.

"Momma!" Your attention is drawn back to your phone where Stella sits on FaceTime before her bath for the evening. You'd been distracted by Lando's sudden shift in mood and had stopped listening to her mid-story.

"Sorry, baby. I'm listening. You and Cora had a good playdate today, yeah?"

Stella prattles on, seemingly satisfied with the half-attention you're now paying her again. But your focus is pulled elsewhere for a moment as you watch a girl you know is on the comms team follow Lando out of the conference room and into his drivers room. You couldn't remember her name but knew that she was working with Lando this weekend as his press officer so it didn't impress you as unusual that she was following him. Maybe something had been said in the meeting and she was going to try to calm him down.

"Momma, can I talk to Lando now?" Stella sighs and you grin. You were beginning to think that your daughter loved Lando a bit more than you the way she constantly asked about him and wanted to see him.

"I think he just walked into a meeting, S but how about we do this. Why don't you go take a bath and by the time you're done, Lando should be finished with his meeting and you can talk to him then."

Stella nods, seemingly happy about the arrangement. You say a quick goodbye before packing up your laptop to go check in on Lando. You were essentially done for the day so you had planned on hanging out with a few of the engineers during their meetings this afternoon before going to dinner with Lando later that night. And then you fully planned on spending the rest of the evening underneath your boyfriend.

You can see the door to Lando's driver's room ajar and you can hear raised voices floating out. Hesitating, you pause with your hand on the door handle. The conversation sounded heated and you didn't want to interrupt. You swear you didn't want to eavesdrop but Lando's shouting didn't leave you much choice.

"What the fuck do you mean the team doesn't want a 'Kelly Piquet 2.0 situation?"

Oh. Oh dear.

You had known Lando was going to tell the team of his plan to hard launch you on his socials tonight and by the sounds of it, it hadn't gone well.

"Lando," The woman, you think her name is Melanie or something, tries to sooth him. "All we're saying is maybe you should think of how this could impact her daughter. When Max and Kelly went public, it was a shit show."

"Yeah, because her father is a racist piece of shit." He spits.

"And she was accused of being a predator!" Melanie fires back. "All I'm saying is that maybe right now isn't the best time to launch a potentially controversial girlfriend."

Your blood goes cold. Controversial? There was nothing in your past that you were ashamed about. No racist relatives. No sex tape scandals or even potentially embarassing photos somewhere out on the internet. You had, all things considered, a pretty wholesome reputation. Everyone at McLaren loved you, as far as you were aware. With the apparent exception of Melanie.

"Controversial? Please, elaborate." Lando's voice goes deadly calm, as if he knows exactly what she's going to say but wants her to say it out loud.

"Lando." Melanie sighs and you take a step back, unsure if you want to hear what she has to say. "She's a young, single mom who got knocked up at nineteen years old." Melanie practically laughs, as if Lando is a complete idiot for not understanding. "There's no way she won't be seen as a gold digger or worse! She's going to be eaten alive on socials. I'm only looking out for her daughter's reputation. Don't be so naive, Norris."

Your fists clench up so tightly, the bite of your nails in your palms pulls you out of a near rage. It takes every ounce of control not to go straight into Lando's room and give that bitch a piece of your mind.

On the other side of the door, Lando swears he sees red and has to take a step away. "This is about your workload, isn't it? You don't want to deal with the awkward questions and the drama? Listen very closely to me, Melanie okay? Because I'm not going to repeat myself." The venom in Lando's voice startles you. "The three of us are a package deal now, do you understand? I am madly in love with that woman out there and her little girl? Her little girl is the center of my world too. I don't give a flying fuck if me being with her means more work for you, that's too fucking bad. If you can't handle it, I'm positive Zak will be happy to replace you. She's here to stay, you are replaceable. Understood?"

Hearing Lando say he loves you and Stella has your world tilting underneath your feet. He'd never said that to you before even though you'd been confident for a while now that he did feel that way. And that you felt the same way.

Melanie's reply is so soft, you don't hear it but moments later, the door flies open so fast you're forced to jump back bit. Melanie's flushed face looks horrified when she sees you standing in the hall. She can't hold eye contact with you for longer than a flicker of a moment before she's dashing down the hall.

Lando stands in the doorway looking horrified that you're standing there. "How much of that did you hear?"

Tears burn at the back of your eyes, your anger at Melanie now replaced with sheer embarrassment. Even if she had been the one to voice it, you were certain Melanie wasn't the only one who was thinking the same thing.

"Everything." You whisper as you look away, brushing at a tear that rolls hotly down your face.

"Goddamnit." Lando swears, shoving a hand through his curls. He hadn't even noticed his door was open after Melanie had followed after him. "Baby..." He reaches for you and you let him pull you to him, his steady warmth a comforting feeling as the panic rises in your chest.

"She's right, you know." You whisper into his chest so softly Lando nearly misses it.

Lando pulls back and the look of desperation on his face nearly breaks your heart. "What are you talking about?"

"The hate we're going to get. I'm going to get. She had a point, you have to admit. I'm a young, single mom dating a millionaire? People are going to think all I'm interested in is your money, just like they did with Kelly."

"Who cares what people think? Who cares what they say about us? The people in our lives that really matter know that's not why you're with me. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Until they start in on Stella. Have you seen some of the things they say about P?"

You were pretty confident you could handle any hate that you got but you knew that the moment you saw any hate towards your little girl, you'd be devastated. It had been something you'd been thinking about since Lando had brought up going public last night but you had been able to brush it aside. It hadn't seemed possible, the worry seeming far away and a little over dramatic but now? Now Melanie's words had anxiety twisting in your stomach.

"That's not going to happen." Lando pulls you deeper into his chest and nuzzles into your neck. He can practically feel you pulling away from him and terror shoots through him.

"You don't know that. Even if it doesn't, do you really want to spend the rest of this relationship constantly defending me? Defending us? That's no way to live, Lando. Melanie was right. I'm controversial and maybe we need to rethink this."

Lando's entire world stops spinning, his breath catching in his throat. "Wh...What? No, baby, no. Please don't do this. Don't pull away. Melanie is being hysterical. Nothing like that is going to happen."

If he had to get on his knees and beg you not to leave him, Lando would do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm not doing anything, I just need a minute to think okay?" You step out of his grasp, instantly missing his touch. You can't even look him in the eye, knowing that if you do you'll crumble. But you can't think of Lando or even yourself right now. "I have to consider what's best for Stella, okay?"

"Don't do this." Lando begs.

"I think I'm going to stay in my own room tonight." You whisper, voice straining with emotion as you barely contain the heartache in your tone.

"Is this the end?" Lando chokes out as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. He's sure you'd step away if he tried to touch you right now and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle that kind of rejection from you. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him and the only thing that could right this was you.

Tears stream down your face as you struggle for an answer. "No." You tell him after a moment and the relief that floods Lando's face nearly breaks your heart. "I just need some space to think is all, I promise."

"Can we still have dinner tonight?"

"I think it'd be best if I just spend the evening alone." It hurts, saying those words because you rarely get this much alone time with Lando but you need space so badly your skin begins to itch. You're desperate to get some distance from the paddock and the team and even Lando himself, to right yourself back to the proper head space. You had to consider Stella above your own heart.

If it was possible to die from a broken heart, Lando knew he was about to find out. He lets you go though, watching miserably from the spot he's rooted to on his floor as you back away slowly, almost like you're retreating from a dangerous animal or something.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

All he can do is nod as he watches you walk out the door for what he hopes isn't the last time.

You're just finishing the last bits of your makeup when there's a knock on your door Friday morning. You were a bit surprised because you knew full well that Lando had a key but the fact that he was nervous to use it after what had happened yesterday tugs at something in your chest.

You had been in the shower when he texted you that morning and the string of texts nearly broke your heart. You hadn't wanted to put him through that kind of pain but you had needed to take a moment to think through what had happened with Melanie and the comms team yesterday.

Slipping the robe Lando had gotten you in Japan a few weeks ago, you pad towards the door to open it. You're stopped completely in your tracks when you swing it open and get a glimpse of Lando in the hallway. He looks absolutely ravaged, like he didn't sleep a single second the night before, eyes red rimmed and puffy.

"Lan..." You whisper, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You reach for him, utterly perplexed suddenly as to why you had felt you needed distance from him.

When he folds you into his arms, the damn finally breaks and you sob into him, the entire previous day's emotions coming to a head. The way you finally feel complete when he's got you in his arms is unlike anything you've ever felt and for a brief moment yesterday, you had forgotten that fact.

When he kisses you, cradling your head in his hands, everything else quiets. The doubts, the fear, the anxiety. It all fades into the background with his lips on yours and you sigh into his mouth. For the first time on 24 hours you feel relieved, like you can actually tackle this issue instead of feeling like you're going to drown in your own thoughts.

Lando tugs you over to the bed, pulling you into his lap as he sits against the headboard. You tuck into his body as close as you can, head folded into that space between his neck and shoulder, drinking in the smell of him: fresh from the shower and slightly spicy from his cologne.

For several minutes, you both just sit there. Lando struggles to contain the relief that is flooding his body. He'd been absolutely miserable last night, eventually working himself into a panic attack at the thought of losing you and Stella. There was such a gaping hole in his soul when he thought about the prospect of you walking away, it scared him to death. He had never planned on falling for you, had resisted it for a bit, trying to convince himself that it was too quick to be feeling the way he did. Last night though? Last night had showed him he was further gone than he had ever expected.

"Did you mean what you said to Melanie yesterday?" You mumble into his neck after a few moments.

"Every word." Lando says without a moment of hesitation. "But is there a specific part you want me to confirm?"

You chuckle, pulling away so you can look him in the face. "The part where you said we're a package deal? That you love love us both?"

Lando brings his hands up to face your frame and you can't help but lean into him. "Of course I meant it. I'd do anything for either of you. I thought we'd established that, baby."

You drop your gaze from his then, somewhat knocked off center by the intensity of his gaze. "I'm sorry I got spooked. I'm just so used to doing this all on my own, no one ever wants to stay."

"Do you remember what I told you the first night we spent together in Bahrain?"

You blink, a small smile playing on your lips for the first time that morning. "You said a lot that night."

Lando rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. "It was after you had fallen asleep and I got up to get a drink of water. When I came back to bed, you curled right into me and said you thought I'd left you. You asked me to never leave you and and I told you I'd never leave you. I didn't mean it for just that night though."

Your heart thunders in your chest. You didn't remember that at all but the fact that he had said those words to you all those months ago. He'd been as far gone for you back then as you had.

"I love you more than words can say." He whispers and all you can do is nod back, emotion choking out your ability to speak for a few moments.

Lando reaches under your chin after a beat, lifting your face so he can see you. "Nobody said this was going to be easy but if we do this together, it'll be okay. You've got to trust me on this, baby. The team is fully supportive, I swear to you. Zak, Andrea, Oscar. Everyone that matters is on our side. I know you're scared and you want to protect Stella but you can't give up on our happiness because of some stupid people on the internet that don't matter."

Pain shoots through you, bright and quick as a lightning bolt as realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Something becomes crystal clear in that moment and you find yourself nodding.

"You're right. I know you are. I want Stella to see me choose myself instead of sacrificing my happiness for some stupid what ifs." It isn't until Lando says what he does that you're able to finally put into words what you've slowly been coming to realize over the last few hours. You'd been scared to admit it, scared that choosing yourself in this meant you were putting Stella second but when Lando tells you that you can't give up your own happiness to protect her, everything clicks into place.

"I want her to know that she can do hard things and choose her own path and if i listen to Melanie all I show her is that the bullies win."

"That's my girl." Lando praises, pulling you into another soul shattering kiss. "I love you." He whispers against your lips.

"Lan..." You pull away suddenly, eyes going wide. "The reason I was outside your driver's room yesterday was because Stella demanded to talk to you before bed and then..." You drop the sentence, the memory of yesterday slicing through you once again. "Do we have time to call her now? She was so mad at me last night when I said you were too busy to talk."

"Don't you ever tell my Stelly Belly I'm too busy to talk to her again." He teases before grabbing his phone. "Is she with Sarah today? They had a half day, didn't they. She was all about going to the cinema with Sarah today last time I talked to her."

The smile that settles on your face is nothing short of brilliant. For the first time in nearly 24 hours, you finally feel settled, like everything had righted itself after being so very briefly run off course. "Lets see if she can talk now before the get to the show."

landonorris posted

789,039 likes liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, BFFSarah, and others landonorris did someone say 'hard launch'? user029 oh she's PRETTY PRETTY yourusername <3 >>>user029 ugh, profile's private but SHE HAS A CHILD??? >>>user2992 if this means we're going to get dad lando content the same yaer we get dad max content, the internet may not survive BFFSarah can i like this more than once!?! <3 user0299 OMG WAIT I saw her in the background of tv shots this weekend except she was in a McLaren team kit. LANDO NOT DATING AN INFLUENCER??? >>>user3422 didn't know he had it in him >>>user000 god, i am such a sucker for a workplace romance trope

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[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Far Cry Cradle.

Pairing: Yandere!Lilia x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Kidnapping, Slight Breeding Kink, Infantilization/Dehumanization, and Implied Pregnancy. Slight Spoilers for Book Seven.

Humans were skittish creatures.

Lilia knew that better than most, but even if he hadn’t, it would’ve been plain to see. Their soldiers required battle cries and marching songs to keep their nerve on the field, their royalty barricaded themselves behind gates of iron and castles of brick, and even the lowliest among them fell back on rumor and superstition to vent their anxiety, telling each other tales of heroes and villains and treachery and valiance as to best root a bit of bravery in one another where they’d failed to plant it in themselves. It was an admirable effort – albeit, a misplaced one. There were things in the world worth being afraid of. Trying to forget that was as foolish as succumbing to it.

You were a skittish creature, certainly. Your condition was no worse than that of the state he found you in, and yet, your trembling had only grown more violent, your muffled noises quickly becoming too pitiful to ignore. It’d been a struggle just to get you back to his cottage, and you’d scrambled into the smallest, darkest possible corner as soon as he’d let you go. It was a miracle you didn’t make a break for the door. At least he knew that, whatever you thought he was going to do to you, it couldn’t have been worse than whatever you’d encountered in the for—

“Please don’t eat me.”

Your voice, cracked and hoarse, brought his attention back to you. He sighed, pushing himself away from the wall and ebbing closer until he stood in front of you. Despite your brazenness, you shied away, sinking that much deeper into your corner. He wondered how long you’d stay there. Any more than a few hours, and he might start to worry.

“I’m going to… eat you?”

A sharp inhale, followed quickly by a shaky nod. “I—In my village, they used to say nocturnal fae considered human flesh to be a delicacy,” you managed, in time. Lilia had to bite back a laugh. “I don’t want to be eaten. If you have to kill me, I’d understand, but I don’t want to be—”

“Relax.” It was more of an order than he meant it to be. Instantly, you went rigid, pulling your knees into your chest and staring at him, doe eyed.

With your panic momentarily thrown into paralysis, he took a moment to evaluate you. You really were in bad shape. Fresh bruises and cuts lined your bare arms and legs, and your clothing had been torn, mended, then torn again. You carried no supplies, but judging from the defensive edge to your posture, the extent of your distress, you’d been fending for yourself for quite a while. Most worryingly, you were barefoot. Wandering through unfamiliar terrain, hungry and cold, was unpleasant. Wandering through unfamiliar terrain, hungry and cold and forced out of comfort so suddenly, you didn’t have time to grab even the most obvious of essentials, was significantly more unpleasant.

He cleared his throat, then fell into a crouch, lowering himself to your height. “Why are you in Briar Valley?”

Your answer came quickly, reflexively. “I was lost.”

“Alright, what were you doing when you got lost?”

This time, your response was less easily provided. “I was… getting lost?”

Perfect. You didn’t have nerve to meet his eyes, but lying to his face didn’t seem to cause you so much strife.

Surprisingly, you spoke up without prompting, uncurling slightly. “Are you going to let me go?”

Lilia grit his teeth. Letting you go would be a bad idea, not only because it was the dead of winter and travelling just about anywhere in your state was a death sentence. You were fickle, and nervous, and more than a little disoriented, but you were human, too, and he was in sore need of one of those.

“No,” and then, rolling his eyes as you let out another keening whimper, “For two reasons. Firstly, it’s winter, you’re injured, and if I let you go back out there, you’d only get yourself killed. Secondly, I need—”

As if rehearsed, an ear-piercing cry broke through the cottage’s quiet, immediately replacing any semblance of peace with a misery that outmatched yours ten-fold. Lilia, as exhausted as he’d ever been on the battlefield, let his head fall, forcing himself to take a deep breath before soldiering on. “I have a son,” he said, only just managing to speak over the child’s wailing. “You’ll be taking care of him, during your time here.”

In retrospect, he could’ve been nicer about it – less brisk, more accommodating, leaning more towards a suggestion than a command. But, it wasn’t in his nature to ask questions where he could dull out orders, and if the idea of childrearing was as aversive to you as that of admitting where you hailed from, you did a decent job of masking it. If anything, your expression seemed to soften, your eyes darting in the direction of Silver’s nursery. For the first time since he’d found you, you managed to say something half-way rational.

“…can I meet him?”

Lilia considered it. Waiting until tomorrow morning may have been wiser. You’d have a chance to gather yourself, and he could tend to Silver on his own in the meantime, ready the child to meet someone other than Malleus and himself. It was probably the more considerate thing to do, the smarter thing to do, but the wailing grew louder, and your eyes caught the dim moonlight in a way that almost made you seem eager, and with a rasped sigh, he stood to his full height, signaling for you to do the same. “For a minute or so. He ought to be asleep, by now.”

He turned away from you, and without a word, you scrambled to your feet, tripping over yourself to follow after him.

~

Humans were sentimental things.

Strangely so. Inexplicably so. Silver had warmed to him immediately, sure, but he’d been a newborn at the time, willing to love anyone who could coo his name and make lights in pretty colors dance on their fingertips. Adults had fewer excuses. Baur’s new son-in-law was rumored to have fallen in love with his now-wife the first time he laid eyes on her, and you…

You could’ve loved a dried patch of thistle, so long as it needed your help.

Lilia made a habit of watching you, generally speaking, but he made sure to hover a little closer whenever you had Silver in your arms – which you almost always did, these days. It was clear that your experience was limited, but you took to childrearing like a fish took to water; dedicating yourself to tending to Silver’s needs as you would’ve your own flesh and blood. Currently, you were sitting by the fire in an age-old rocking chair, bouncing him on one knee and balancing an open book on the other, doing your best to read out some nonsensical fairytale to an unruly audience of one. Or, two, he supposed. He was catching more of it than he’d like to.

When you got to the part about the princess being woken up from an eternal sleep by true love’s kiss, he cut in. “If those are the kind of stories you’ll be telling the boy, it might be better not to speak to him at all.”

Your fear of him seemed to fade more and more with every passing sunrise. Now, you only responded to his chiding with a chime of a laugh, a quick shake of your head. “Talking to children is important. It doesn’t matter what you say, so long as they hear your voice.” You paused, leaning just a little closer to Silver. “Plus, it means you’re going to love me way more than your dad when you’re older. By then, you’ll already know he’s no fun.”

By way of reply, Silver clapped merrily and curled a tiny first around your sleeve. You shot Lilia a triumphant smirk. “See? He’s already playing favorites.”

Lilia pursed his lips. “He never seemed to mind being along with me.”

“Only because he didn’t know any better. You were trying to nurse him on wine, and—”

“Fruit juice,” he corrected.

“Fermented fruit juice. In other words, wine.” Almost protectively, you gathered Silver in your arms, propping him against your shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to say his name more, either. You should get into the habit while he’s still too young to remember being called ‘the boy’.”

At that, Lilia turned away entirely, huffing. He knew you were right. He’d known that when he named Silver, when he decided he was fit to raise a child with a face he still saw in his darkest dreams. Still, to love a child unconditionally and to be a father were two very different things. He was currently stumbling through the latter, but accomplishing the former was proving more difficult than he would ever care to admit aloud.

With a sigh, he edged closer to you, perching himself on the arm of your chair. “May I hold him?”

You feigned reluctance, but didn’t put up a fight. Silver was passed from one pair of hands to another, and Lilia held the child in his lap. “Silver,” he muttered, bringing up a hand to pinch his cheek gently. Good-tempered as always, Silver stared at him wide-eyed, as if in anticipation. “My first son was much more durable. Then again, he did have the decency to hatch from an egg.”

“That actually explains a lot about Malleus.” You straightened abruptly, clapping your hands together. “Oh, and we’re running low on powdered milk. You should ask him to pick some up, if he plans on visiting this week.”

 It was Lilia’s turn to laugh, now – not at anything you’d said, but at his own early misconception. He’d been too embarrassed to say anything after your hasty correction, but now, the confession came more easily, more naturally. “Honestly, I thought that’d be less of a problem with you here. I suppose I was under the impression that humans can make their own.”

A beat passed, then another. When he glanced toward you, he found your head bowed, a prominent flush spread over most of your face. It was cute, in a vulnerable sort of way. Lilia took longer than he should’ve to look away. “…some humans can. Only after they’ve had, uh, a child of their own first, though.” You shrugged. “There are a lot of conditions that have to be met before it’s something you really have to worry about, I guess.

“And you haven’t met those conditions, yet?”

Your blush darkened. “No, I haven’t.”

Ah.

On second thought, you weren’t very doe-like after all. Even a deer would’ve had more talent when it came to hiding its expression.

You were quick to divert your attention, pushing yourself to your feet and smoothing over your skirt. “The sun is setting and I’m getting hungry. Could you watch Silver while I start dinner?”

“I was actually thinking I could—”

“I’d rather starve.”

~

Humans were confounding things.

Emotional, irrational, ineffective. Pleasure and comfort were put above survival in almost every circumstance, hierarchy was treated as more of suggestion than a rule, and attachments could be formed to anything your unknowable minds deemed worth pitying. The weather grew warmer, the snowstorms fewer and further between, and yet, the idea of you leaving was never revisited. He wasn’t especially eager to broach the topic either, but Lilia had a good reason to want to keep you nearby, to make sure Silver had another set of eyes to watch over him. The same couldn’t be said for you.

“Mind if I join you?”

He glanced up and, of course, found the source of his misery. The picture was perfect; the set that of his cottage painted in the colors of dusk, the focus you dressed in the simple dress and apron gifted to you by Malleus. There was a low huff, a shallow nod, and you crossed the shallow stream, setting yourself next to him where he kneeled. “Silver just fell asleep,” you explained. “I’d give it a good hour or so before he so much as stirs. That kid could sleep through a war if he wanted to.”

“I think he might’ve,” Lilia muttered. You only laughed, leaning into his side.

“So,” you started, peering into the steam, empty save for the occasional chunk of ice drifting on the current. “What are we looking at?”  

“Lost in thought, that’s all. There won’t be anything worth looking at until Spring.” He sighed. “I suppose you’ll have returned to your proper home, by then.”

To your credit, you only faltered for a fraction of a moment – catching yourself before you let so much as your sweet, simpering smile fall away. A lesser man may not have noticed it, but Lilia was not a lesser man.

“Do you want me to leave?”

No. He’d give an arm and leg to keep you here. He’d let it snow through Spring, Summer and Fall. He’d teach Silver how to cry whenever you so much as thought about a home outside of his cottage. There were few things he wouldn’t do, if it meant you never left.

“I might be old, but I’m not delusional.” He forced himself to chuckle, the loud airy and only somewhat strained. “There’s some place you belong, some place you came from, and I don’t think it’s in this valley. It’d be selfish of me to keep you any longer than you ought to stay.”

He made a point of not looking at you, his gaze focused on the lining the streambed. There was a long exhale, then a hollow thud as you fell back – collapsing to the half-frozen ground. Just barely above a whisper, you admitted, “I like it here, Lilia.”

“Surely there are things from your own world that you miss.”

“Not as many as you’d think.”

“Comforts, then. I’ve heard wonderful things about electricity.”

“I’m plenty comfortable already. More than I ever was back home.”

“There has to be someone you miss, (Y/n).”

He heard the grass rustle as you rolled onto your side. When he stole a glance in your direction, he saw that you’d left your back to him. “Yeah.” And then, after a long moment, “I guess there should be.”

In an act of either sympathy or cowardice, he gave you time, allowed you space. Long seconds passed before you pulled yourself upright, letting your hands fall into your lap with a weary sigh. “I’ll leave on the first day of Spring,” you decided. “Before you forget how to take care of Silver on your own.”

“He’s still my son, you know.”

“Sure.” And just like that, you were back to beaming. This time, Lilia couldn’t stand to tear his eyes away from you.

“But I’m always going to behis favorite.”

~

Humans were softened things.

You, more so than most. Your skin felt like milkweed and velvet where his calloused fingers grazed over it, growing softer the farther up he travelled. There was still a winter chill in the air, but the weather was warming steadily, and at some point during the night, you’d kicked your quilts and blankets to the side, leaving you sheltered by only a cloth sleeping gown with sleeves prone to slipping down your shoulders and a skirt eager to pool around your waist. Any other night, Lilia might’ve rolled his eyes, lit the hearth in your bedroom, and left you to your own devices. Another other night, but not tonight.

It was strange, the way he loved you. He’d loved Maleanor, and a part of him always would, but that’d been different. To love Maleanor had been to love a force of nature; a storm as untouchable as it was destructive. He was never going to have her, and in a certain way, he’d always known that. You were different. You weren’t Maleanor. You weren’t distant, or untouchable, or destructive. He already had you.

All he had to do was make sure you couldn’t get away.

He’d expected there to be more guilt, more resignation. Instead, there was only relief as he propped a knee on the edge of your bed, rested a hand next to your sleeping face, allowed himself to ebb and sway closer to you until he was positioned in the space between your legs, his chest nearly pressing into yours. His gaze never left your expression; panicked and contorted, not completely unlike the face you’d worn when he first brought you home. Poor thing. You were having a nightmare.

Removing your dress came first. You were a fitful sleeper, prone to waking at the slightest disturbance, but he wasn’t green to delicate work. You whimpered as he dragged a pointed talon from your collar to your navel, but didn’t stir, didn’t shift, didn’t do anything that might’ve stopped him from bringing his mouth to your collarbone and pressing a feather-soft kiss into the base of your throat, the curve of your chest, the last blue-ringed bruise you carried from the night you met. A selfish, territorial part of him hoped it would never fade, that you’d always carry a mark connecting back to him. A more optimistic, more reasonable faction reminded him that he could simply make more.

His mouth wandered in time with his thoughts. He was careful, cautious as he curled his hands around your thighs, kneading with as much force as he could risk. You were beautiful in your obedience; spreading your legs reflexively, letting out a soft, breathy noise as Lilia settled into the now-open space. The thin fabric of your panties gave away as easily as your gown had, and Lilia’s patience reached its breaking point. Weary of his fangs, he bowed his head and—

Ah.

Humans were sweet, too.

And reactive. Even unconscious, you responded to each hasty swipe and drag of his tongue with a moan, a whine, a mewl so pitiful and so heartbreaking, the idea of ever letting you travel beyond his sight suddenly seemed irresponsible, cruel, unfair to a creature so delicate, it could hardly stand imagine itself to be unwanted. He sighed, letting his hands drift to your waist as he lapped over your clit, as eager to pleasure you as he was to drink in the fruits of his labor. It wasn’t long before your sleep turned restless, your body shifting underneath him in an attempt to escape unfamiliar stimulation. When he refused to let you go so easily, you reacted on instinct; snapping your thighs shut around his head and drawing out a low, reverberating grown from your willing victim.

More. That was what you must’ve wanted – more. He buried himself that much deeper in his task, nuzzling into the inside of your thigh as his tongue spread you open, curling against the walls of your cunt, seeking out anything sensitive, anything vulnerable, anything to make your hips buck into his mouth and your thighs shake where they were still trapped in his hands. He let his teeth scrape over the tender junctions between your thighs, and when that wasn’t enough, ground the bridge of his nose into your clit. Admittedly, it was messy effort; too hasty for your first time. He was tempted to chide himself for being so overly enthusiastic, but the awareness that this was only the first time of countless was enough of a comfort to spur him on.

It wasn’t long before he felt you tense underneath him, sucking in a harsh breath as your cunt clenched around his tongue. He nursed you through your climax (your first ever climax, he chose to believe) until your little whines had turned to near-pained whimpers, until he could no longer stand to limit himself to simply rutting against cold, lifeless bedding. With one more fleeting kiss to the apex of your hip, he pushed himself onto his knees and took to aligning the leaking head of his cock with your entrance, now dripping with arousal and spit. His gaze fixed on your peaceful expression, he thrust into you, no longer patient enough to be quite so gentle.

It was in a state of unparalleled bliss that the watched your eyes snap open, immediately finding him. Your lips parted, a scream already rising in your throat, but he forced his hand over your mouth before it could surface. It wouldn’t do to wake Silver, not at a time like this.

“Easy, love, easy,” he cooed. Your only response was a wince, a twist, a ragged sob reverberating against his palm. He might’ve been offended, had he not been able to feel you growing warmer, growing tighter around his length. “I apologize if there’s any pain. Can you try and relax for me?”

Apparently not. Your hands found their way to his chest, clawing frantically thought the thin material of his tunic. You tried to move his legs, too, but he was quick to put a stop to that, leaning his weight against you and pinning you to the bed. A bit selfishly, he took the opportunity to press his chest to yours, his hips to yours, to root himself that much deeper into you. It was paradise, the way you clung to him. He could only wonder why he didn’t realize how precious you were sooner.

“Easy,” he repeated, more breathlessly. “Would you rather I restrain you?”

The clawing stopped immediately. After a moment, he felt you shake your head.

“And you don’t want to end up hurting yourself, now, do you?”

Another shake, this one more trepid than the first.

“Then listen to me.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, careful not to raise his voice. “Make all the noise you want, but don’t scream. I’m not afraid of seeking out more permanent solutions.”

That was enough to get you to stop moving entirely. He held you close for a second, then another, before pulling away. True to your word (or lack thereof), you kept quiet, catching your bottom lip in your teeth and shutting your eyes so tightly, he could almost believe you no longer cared to look at him. With an airy laugh, he rested a hand next to your head and started to move.

It was your first time. It had to be. If you’d had any experience at all, you wouldn’t have responded to every slow, sentimental thrust with such adorable squeaking, wouldn’t have clung to the sheets with such a heartbreaking desperation. With your compliance ensured, he tried to be delicate, to give you time to adjust, but you made it difficult not to seek out the reactions you seemed so ready to provide. You made it hard not to use more force than he should’ve, not to root himself deeper than he should’ve, not to grind and rut and fuck like some drooling animal, caught up in its own heat. He could tell you were trying to ignore him, but even that had to break, eventually; your hands shooting to his shoulders as he lost his pace, your nails digging into his skin as he found something more substantial, something bordering on rabid. This time, he welcomed your violence. It was the least he could do, to help ground his distraught little love.

“You’re going to stay here.” He didn’t realize he’d meant to say anything aloud until he heard his own voice, low and drawn-out, playing just above your miserable whines and pleasured moans. “You’ll never have to leave. You’ll belong here. You already belong with me.”

“I don’t—”

“You won’t have a choice,” he assured, the comfort in his voice thick and prone to clotting. “Not after tonight.”

He watched horror flash across your expression, then something else, something he couldn’t quite name. It didn’t matter. His lips were already crashing into yours, dragging you into a kiss put off for far, far too long. Light flashed behind his eyes, and some unnamable tether drawn taut inside of him finally snapped. With his hips pressed flush to yours, he stilled and came undone. You followed a moment later, milking him for all he had.

For minutes, it was all he could do to stay trapped there; your warm body pressed into his, your stifled crying the only sound filling the empty space. When he did break from his trance, it was with an airy laugh, a brush of his cheek against yours before he dipped lower, taking shelter in the crook of your neck. Whether or not you could hear him was irrelevant. You’d have plenty of time to listen, from now on.

“You’re going to be a perfect mother.”

[bloodibambiidoll]

Hiiii bb🥺 can I pretty pls request rafe x bitchy!reader with the prompts “Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.” And “Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.”. Maybe this is their first time together and she’s being all smug and he shows just what he’s capable of? Love you doll🩷

Hi, my love!! But ofc!! I went with Frat!Rafe for this one and reader is implied to be an alternative sorority girl. Enemies to lovers, flirty banter, face fucking, bondage, cum swallowing, fingering, overstimulation, daddy kink, choking, biting, breeding kink, unprotected sex. 18+!!!!

“We are never going to happen, Cameron, give it up.” You scoff as you look down at your black and red perfectly, pointed nails.

“I’m not gonna give up until you admit I’m right.” Rafe smirks as he moves in closer to you. There’s only a few inches between you and his large frame and your back is up against the wall. He tracked you down at yet another party and stopped you in the hall. Like a moth to flame, he always seems to find you. “I know you want me.”

“No, that’s just what you tell yourself so you can justify this obsession you have with me.” You glance up at him long enough to throw him a glare before returning your attention to your nails. You’re careful not to let him see your eyes for too long because then he’ll know he’s right. You do want him.

For some fucking reason. You’re pretty much the only girl in your sorority he hasn’t fucked around with and you take great pleasure in not being added to that list. “Go find Heather or something, I’m sure she’s just dying to hop back on your shrimp dick.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Rafe grits his teeth as he closes the distance between you, his face is so close you can feel his breath on your skin and smell his expensive cologne. But you still don’t give him the time of day and it drives him insane. You’re not wrong, he’s obsessed with you. And it pisses him the fuck off. He’s tried every angle with you, the only reason he even started fucking your soririty sisters was for your attention. He will take what he can get, even if it’s negative. “You’re always fuckin’ bringing other bitches into it, are you really that jealous, baby?”

“Ha!” You throw your head back with a laugh, meeting his eyes with an icy gaze that goes straight to his cock. You’re not like any of the other girls on this entire island. Your thick eyeliner, glossy dark, red lips, and your chunky shoes have him so down bad he doesn’t even want to admit it to himself. “You’re fucking delusional, Cameron. I couldn’t give a shit less who your fuck of the night is.”

“Yeah? I think you’re lying.” Rafe gives you that fuck boy smirk that you wish so badly didn’t secretly work on you and it makes you want to slap him. His arm comes up on the wall by your head, caging you in and further enveloping you in his scent. He leans down so his lips are brushing the shell of your ear and it makes your stomach tighten. “I think you want me to fuck you so bad that it pisses you off.”

“Oh my fucking god! Do you ever shut up?!” You groan and throw your head back before trying to duck under his arm but Rafe’s free hand finding your hip keeps you in place.

“Nah.” Rafe chuckles as he tongues the inside of his cheek, his eyes roaming your face like he’s wondering what to do with you. “But I can think of several ways to shut your bratty ass up right now.”

“I’d like to see you fucking try.” Rafe looks down at you like the cat that caught a mouse as he loops his arm around your waist and hauls you down the hall toward one of the open rooms. He ushers you inside before slamming the door and then he slams your back against the wood.

“You have no idea what you just fucking asked for, little mouse.” Rafe chuckles darkly as his hand comes up to grip onto your chin, forcing eye contact. You try to shake your face free but his grip is too strong. That doesn’t stop you from trying as you glare at him through your lashes. You’re not giving in that easily. “Quit fighting it, just admit you fuckin’ want me.”

“Fucking make me, Cameron.” You thrash around in his hold, not even really trying to break free, just holding onto your pride. Your sharp nails come up to claw his wrist and it only makes his grip on your face tighten.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna have you fuckin’ begging for it.” The hand on your face laces into the back of your hair, using it as leverage to pull you to the middle of the room.

His free hand grips onto your throat and he pulls your face against his, mashing your lips together in a filthy kiss. You get lost in it for a moment but when his tongue forces its way into your mouth you clamp your teeth down on it. He hisses and pulls his head back, his eyes burning blue flames into yours as he looks down at you.

“I’m never going to beg for you. You stupid fucking asshole, you’re such a -” Your words are cut short when Rafe’s sneaker clad foot sweeps under your platform heels while he uses his grip on your head to manhandle you to your knees in front of him. You growl in the back of your throat and your fingers claw his wrists again. It only makes Rafe cock twitch.

“Maybe you aren’t a mouse after all, huh? You’re a feisty little kitty.” Rafe chuckles and grabs both of your wrists in one of his big hands, holding them tight in front of you. “And kitten’s need to be taught it’s not okay to scratch.”

“You’re a joke if you think you’re gonna be the one to tame me. All you frat boys are the same. Get your nut, and get out. Why do you think I haven’t fucked you already, dumb ass?!”

“You’re always calling me names, baby.” Rafe chuckles as he keeps your hands held in place and uses his free hand to undo his belt. You watch with wide eyes as he pulls it from the loops and when he brings it up to your wrists you hate that your pussy clenches at the thought of what he’s about to do. You half heartedly try to wiggle away as he loops the belt around your wrists, restraining you. “It’s funny cause after I’m done with you the only thing you’re going to remember is my name.”

“This is cute.” You snicker as you wiggle your wrists and shift on your knees, Rafe can’t take the chance of you getting up so he grips onto your hair again, ensuring you stay right where he wants you. “I really like this whole ‘daddy dom’ act you’re putting on, very convincing.”

“Didn’t I say I was done with your fuckin’ mouth?” Rafe uses his free hand to undo his button and zipper and you can’t help the way your eyes hone in on what he’s doing. You have to physically hold in a gasp at the sheer size of his cock when he pulls it out and strokes himself a few times.

“Now why don’t you be a good little slut and make it useful?” He tilts your head back with his grip on your hair and taps the head of his cock on your glossy lips. Some of the red stain streaks onto his tip and the sight drives him insane. “Gonna make such a fuckin’ mess of you. Open your bratty mouth.”

“Open my mouth? Okay, I’ll open my mouth to tell you that you’re-” Your sentence is cut short by Rafe’s cock slipping past your lips. He pushes his shaft all the way to the back of your throat, making you gag on it. He pulls back far enough for you to take a breath of air but as soon as you start to talk again he’s back down your throat.

“Now be a good little girl and fuckin’ suck it.” The horniness in your body is starting to overpower your will to rebel against what it wants. Rafe’s hand finds the back of your head so he can push you all the way down on his cock with your nose flush against his pelvis. It makes you gag and drool and he holds you there until you swallow around him. He pulls out to the tip and you swirl your tongue around in, making his eyes roll back with a moan. You instantly become addicted to the sound, wanting to hear more. You want to hear what he sounds like when he cumes and you’re so tired of pretending you don’t. He thrusts his hips forwards and starts to fuck your throat roughly. You wrap your lips tightly around him, gliding your tongue along his shaft as he uses your mouth. “Yeah, that’s what I’m tallkin’ about baby, knew there was a cock hungry slut underneath that bratty attitude.”

“Gonna cum down this pretty little throat and then I’m going to use that pussy as I please, yeah? Nod if you understand.” You nod the best you can with him brutally fucking your throat and it doesn’t take much more than that to have him stilling in your mouth. Rafe’s cum spills down your throat as he throws his head back and moans. “Fuck. Fuckin’ swallow it.”

You oblige him, swallowing every drop he gives you. Rafe looks down at you devilishly as he pulls you from his cock. He’s already half hard at the sight of you on your knees in front of him like this. Your lipgloss is smeared around your mouth and that meticulously done eyeliner is streaming down your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt that your hands are bound either.

“What are you staring at, weirdo?” You snark at him and Rafe grips onto your arms underneath your shoulders so he can toss you onto the bed.

“You still got that fuckin’ attitude?” Rafe smirks as he grabs onto your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed, making your little skirt ride up and reveal your black thong. He runs his big hands down your thighs so he can push your skirt up further, making it pool around your hips. The wet spot that’s visible even in black makes him smirk. “What’s it gonna take to get you to stop being a brat? You need it fucked out of you? The dick you’ve been getting around here isn’t satisfying you?”

“Will you just stop being annoying and fuck me already?” You roll your eyes as you wiggle beneath him, your hands still being bound limiting your movements.

“Nah, cause’ I don’t want to just fuck you, princess. I want you to fuckin’ submit to me. Beg for it.”

“Seriously?” You whine and throw your head back but it just earns you a grip on your jaw, forcing you to keep eye contact.

“Look at me when I’m fuckin’ talking to you.” Rafe’s voice holds a level of authority that makes your head spin. You really didn’t think he had all of this in him and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. His free hand comes up to push your panties to the side so he can run his fingers through your dripping slit. “I know you want it baby, you’re so wet f’me.”

“Yeah, because I want you to fuck me, okay?!” You huff out as you angle your hips to try and chase his fingers that he keeps just barely dipping into your entrance before denying you the pleasure.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that, princess.” Rafe licks his lips as his fingers circle your clit agonizingly slow, making your clit pulse. “Beg.”

“Please.” You whimper out, so quietly that if Rafe wasn’t inches from your face he wouldn’t have heard it. He smirks at you and you feel his fingers circle your entrance again but this time he thrusts two knuckle-deep inside of you. He pumps them in and out of you while curling his fingers against your walls and it makes your back arch.

“Gonna make you cum on my fingers till you’re begging for my fuckin’ cock.” Rafe’s thumb finds your clit and presses hard circles on it in time with his thrusts and your walls clench around him. He roughly grabs the hem of your little lace top and pushes it over your tits, moaning at the sight of them. He leans down and takes one into his mouth and it has you tumbling into euphoria embarrassingly fast.

“Oh, fuck! I’m fucking cumming, oh my god.” You moan loudly as Rafe continues to fuck you with his fingers. He fucks you through it but just as you’re starting to come down from that high he brings you back to the top again. “Oh shit!”

“Yeah that’s right, slut. Gimme another one.” Rafe’s fingers move impossibly faster and he slides a third one inside you while the heel of his palm grinds against your clit as you come undone for him again. His fingers slow and your chest heaves as you come down from your second orgasm. You think he’s going to give you a break and finally fuck you. But his fingers start to pick up the pace again and you know you thought wrong. “One more.”

“I can’t, Rafe!” You writhe beneath him but he uses a hand to pin your hip to the bed. “Please just fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s right, slut. Say my fuckin’ name. Say it while you cum on my fingers again.” You practically scream his name as you gush around his fingers and your entire body wracks with pleasure. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Rafe pulls his fingers from you and brings them to his lips with a groan. He grabs onto the string of your panties and rips them down your legs before positioning himself between your legs with his cock in his hand. He taps his head against your over sensitive clit and it makes you gasp.

“Beg for my cock again, princess. Wanna hear it.” Rafe licks his plush bottom lip as he looks down at you through half lidded eyes. “Don’t even think about giving me an attitude either. I’ll jerk off and cum all over your pretty little skirt and leave you with nothing.”

“Please, Rafe, please fuck me? I wanna feel you buried deep inside me please -“ Rafe lines up with your entrance before pushing himself balls deep into your pussy in one hard thrust. “Oh, shiiiiit.”

“God fuckin’ damn.” Rafe moans as he pulls out of you to the tip before slamming back into you and fucking into you like a man possessed. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. Pussy is squeezing me so good, baby.”

One of Rafe’s hands grips onto your hip so hard you’re sure there's going to be prints of his fingers tomorrow. The other hand grips onto your throat and squeezes, cutting off your airflow in the most delicious way. He leans down and crushes your lips with a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and dancing with your own.

“Knew you’d look so pretty all split open on my cock.” Rafe chuckles as he grips onto your jaw and shakes your head from side to side. “Tell me you fuckin’ love this shit.”

“I love it, daddy, you’re so big.” Your voice is a breathy moan, a stark contrast to the way you were talking to him not so long ago. “You’re fucking me so good.”

“So you really did just need that little attitude fucked out of you, didn’t you, Princess?” Rafe shoves his face into your neck. He attacks your skin with little bites and sucks, surely leaving marks behind. You honestly hope he does. “Calling me daddy n’ shit, fuck. I’m gonna breed this fuckin’ pussy then everybody on this damn campus will know who owns your ass.”

“Oh god, fuck yes! Fill me up, please? Give me your cum, daddy!” Any and all attitude you had earlier on is completely erased from your mind. All you can think about is Rafe’s cock and how good he’s making you feel.

“Yeah? Gonna fuck you so full it’ll be dripping down your legs when we leave this party. I’m gonna take you back to my place and eat it outta you.” Rafe leans up on his knees and grabs his belt binding your wrists with both his hands. He props both of his knees under your ass so your hips are angled and then he pulls you down on his cock over and over again like a rag doll. “Then I’m gonna fill you again and again until it’s dripping out for days. You’re mine now, baby. Say it and I’ll make you cum again.”

“I’m yours, Rafe!” You whine as you try to meet his erratic thrusts but he’s bouncing you on his cock so fast you can hardly think. That coil in your stomach is wound so tight it’s about to explode. Your hands fly up and grip onto Rafe’s wrist for purchase, your nails digging into his skin making his cock twitch inside you. “God, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah, that’s it baby, cum all over daddy’s big cock.” It only takes a few more pumps of his cock against your sweet spot to have your walls convulsing around him. You throw your head back with a loud moan of Rafe’s name, making your back arch and your tits jiggle beautifully. It's enough to have Rafe’s cock pulse while he cums right along with you, spilling ropes of his thick cum into your walls.

He doesn’t stop fucking you until you both come down from your highs and then he’s gently unbinding your hands from his belt. The minute your hands are free your body falls limp on the bed from exhaustion and Rafe chuckles as he looks down at you fondly.

“What’re you laughing at, jerk?” You roll your eyes and groan.

“Nothin’ you’re just cute, s’all.” Rafe chuckles again and you look at him in the eyes through your tired lashes. “I like you like this. All fucked out and covered in my cum. You still got that attitude, though.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t think it’s going anywhere anytime soon, dickhead.” You giggle and throw him a playful glare that he returns with a genuine smile. It makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Oh? Well it looks like I’ll just have to keep trying to get you to be nice to me then, huh?” Rafe plops down on his side next to you, letting his pointer finger gently caress the side of your face. “Plus, I kinda like it when you’re mean to me. It gets me going.”

“Oh my god! You’re so annoying.” You laugh and Rafe joins in before leaning over to kiss you so gently it surprises you. When he pulls back he holds your face in his hands and looks at you so sweetly it makes you feel like you’re going to puke.

“I definitely want to see you all fucked out and sweetly begging for me some more though.” Rafe bites his lip as he looks down at you. “Lemme take you home, yeah? Then maybe tomorrow I can take you on a date?”

“A date?” You scoff out a laugh and raise your eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I’ve obviously been trying to hit this entire time. But if you would’ve given me to the time of day before biting my head off, you’d know I’ve been trynna ask your little ass out in a date for weeks now.” Rafe rolls his eyes playfully as he squishes your cheeks together with his fingers. “So, what do you say?”

“You know what? Fuck it.” You push yourself up on your elbows with a grin. “Let’s go on a fucking date, asshole.”

“Alright then, brat.” Rafe leans down and presses a messy kiss on your lips. “Get your ass up and get dressed so I can take you home with me. It’s a date.”

Tagging mooties: @cameronwillow @cxrrodedcoffin @rafeyscurtainbangs @starkeysbabygirl @starkeyprincess @oceandriveab @sarahsangelicdoll @rafesheaven

Divider by @anitalenia

[lustlovehart]

Hi! It's me again, I was wondering after recalling some stuff about reader and Rollo how would the twst monster cast react to Reader, I don't know, them asking about the earring she's always wearing and her telling them is from her partner (house husband). I mean, I know they'd react hella jealous but in different ways.

I know is annoying buuuut I like to imagine a what if, instead of going all alone towards the missions, Crowley allowed Rollo to accompany her and meeting all this creatures and Rollo being the bad (hater) policeman and Reader the (extremely) good one.

I'm sorry for asking so much Rollo 😭😭 it's just that he's so silly!

I love your works sooo much! And also how you draw the M!cast, they're all so pretty!! Love love 🫶

Cw: Jealousy, Marking mentions, gaslighting, Obsession, Rollo torturing Epel at the end

Omg! What a coincidence getting this ask after just writing a jealousy prompt in my inbox 😭

I’ve made it pretty consistent that you’re always referencing Rollo some way in your daily life. So I love making characters hear his name once a week and twitch their eye(s) at his mention. But for the most part, they all do act jealous!

The Pouty/Angry jealous: Riddle, Ace, Ruggie, Floyd, Rook, Epel, Malleus, Sebek, Skully

Whenever you mention Rollo’s name, they’re quick to cross their arms, possibly even give you a stink eye. They’ll ask you what’s so great about this ‘work husband’, he did make you do this alone. If he really cared, he would’ve came with you right? He might’ve cared for you at the foundation, but now he just threw you to the dangers of the world. They would never do that to you… So stop talking about him already.

The Sad jealous: Deuce, Cater, Jack, Azul, Kalim, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Silver, Neige, Fellow, Skully

The moment they see the way your face lights up looking at that star pattern fabric in your hand, they feel something. For some of them, it’s guilt, they can’t give you what he can, so maybe… he’s the better option for you than they are (Deuce, Jack, Silver, Neige, Skully). For others, they’re sad at the feeling of envy in their heart. It’s really not fair… This Rollo, gets to see everything side of you, your happiest, your saddest, your angriest, even your dearest. They want to see it too… Won’t you let them?

The ‘I’m just gonna leave my mark on you too’: Trey, Leona, Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Malleus, Lilia, Neige, Chenya

So, he gives you that earring. You won’t take it off. Ok. Easy fix, they’ll do something much more obvious. Whether it’s wrapping you in themselves, drawing a symbol of their soul on you, adorning you in their clothes/feathers, or even simply using their mouths, they’ll be more seen. He hopes if when you return to him, Rollo sees this mark.

Why be jealous when murder is a capability: Malleus

I hope everyone noticed he’s in each section, and he does go through these in the exact same order. Essentially, Rollo’s house sees no mercy, nor does his garden, or himself when he steps foot outside. Lightning… everywhere. Rollo get’s a certain sense of who it’s from, and he has to be physically stopped by Crowley from leaving to find you.

LMAO I love the Good cop bad cop energy Rollo and Reader would have if they went out together. Rollo is essentially the overprotective third wheel who blocks any potential suitors from you.

Anytime you’re nice to them, it’s immediately cancelled out by Rollo doing something devious.

An example:

You: Letting Epel drink your blood for like 2 minutes.

Rollo: Stabs him through the heart with a stake, Throws garlic at him, touches him with a silver fork, leaves him in the sun, places crosses on him, and dumps holy water on him. But places a really worn down bandaid on it because you’d be upset at him. He dgaf abt Epel 💀

Bonus: Rollo and Reader Dynamic

Synopsis: Absolutely smitten with you, and everyone else hates it 💀

[ribbonskiss]

ANOTHER ROUND -> CS55

Part 2 of 3. Read Part 1 here.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Summary: A spontaneous night out alone lands you in a new bar in town, owned by a man whose story seems to intersect with yours—not that you know it, yet.

Tags: strangers to lovers, meet cute, very angsty in this part!, slow burn, multi-part fic

A/N: thank you to the anon who suggested some angst for this story, you will be very happy to know that I’ve ended up incorporating your idea into it ☺️ andddd as it turns out this will be a three-parter at the very least! I probably won’t be able to update it as fast as I have been so I hope you do enjoy this part haha

Things get easier and more comfortable after that night, but not as comfortable as you’d like. You eventually meet Alex, Charles’ girlfriend, when she shows up at the bar one night after a particularly gruelling day working. As it turns out, she’s an art gallerist, one with a busy workweek as she’s built up an impressive portfolio of artists that entrust her with their works and careers, and you get along surprisingly well. She promises to come by more often now that she knows you’re a regular, prompting Charles to pout and moan that she no longer loves him. And that’s that; you feel like you’ve solved the puzzle of Charles Leclerc. He’s a charming man in a steady relationship with a strong woman, and even if you don’t know the details of his life, you feel like you understand who he is.

But there’s something about Carlos. Carlos is warm, sweet and kind. You speak for hours easily, he attends to you as much as possible even when the bar is ridiculously busy, and you stay until it’s time to close much more often. He’s an open book. He speaks to you freely but you can’t help but feel like there’s so much you don’t know yet, so much you’ve yet to discover. Maybe he needs time; in that case, you’re more than willing to wait. It feels like it’s worth it.

It’s not so bad, either, if this is the waiting period. The car rides become more frequent. Carlos drives you home now like it’s just a fact of life that he has to, and you greatly appreciate that. You quickly discover, however, that by the end of the night he is often too tired to make steady conversation. You exchange a few words in the beginning, thanking each other for one another’s company; you exchange a few strange sentences, ones that blur the lines between customer and bartender or even acquaintance and acquaintance. One night he tells you the colour of your dress makes your eyes look like gemstones set in rings of silver; another night you tell him you’ve noticed he makes a face when an obstacle presents itself to him: his eyebrows furrow slightly, jaw drops loose and tilts to one side, the tip of his tongue poking slightly, gently at the corner of his mouth.

Then the words dry up. The silence is goosebump inducing at first; you are terrified that it could be an indicator of his true feelings for you, ones of disinterest and apathy. That these interactions, the conversations and car rides, are conditional and transactional. But the silence prevails, and what a relief it turns out to be—when the words subside, what is left is a common language of action. Carlos never ceases being attentive to you. He rolls the window down when he notices you pulling a face, letting the fresh air in to soothe you. He turns the music on, skips to a track that seems to make your eyes light up. And then, your favourite part of these car rides: when he stops at a red light, you begin a game of stolen glances, the objective of it being to not get caught by the other despite both of you being plainly aware of what is really happening. Cheeks warm, lips curl up into sly smiles concealed by the darkness of the night. And how wonderful it is, when the rare word is finally spoken before you leave his car.

“You may not understand,” he says. “But I’m most grateful for this—this time of the night we have, together.”

Surely he understands, then, why this would hurt you so much. There was no way to anticipate this. It had never dawned on you until now that Carlos had made no mention of his love life to you—and of course, you feel like a fool.

He’s made you look like a right fool.

You don��t even make it inside. You stand outside, hovering over the glass of the shop window as you watch the woman cross her legs and lean over the counter, looking at Carlos with a twinkle in her eye in your seat. He treats her with the same kind of attentiveness he does with you, and watching it in action now as he smiles at her fondly reveals to you a certain mechanical quality. Was it always this rehearsed with you? You can’t really think straight, ankles wobbly as the night breeze blows and Carlos pours her another glass of wine.

You feel a cold, awful shiver run down your spine and fill your stomach with a terrible feeling of sickness. But then Alex emerges from the bathroom a second later and spots you outside, looking rather distraught. She walks past the bar, gives Charles a look of concern as she recognises the situation at hand, the woman monopolising Carlos’ time and attention, before bolting out the door to you. She doesn’t know what to say. She just yanks your handbag out of your hand, puts it on the ground and pulls you into a hug.

Charles comes running out the door soon after, halting to a stop as he sees Alex has already come to comfort you. You’re not crying, it’s not that serious, and being this upset even is such an incredible overreaction, you think to yourself. He sighs, turning back and forth between the two tableaux that have transpired in and out of the bar.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he starts.

Alex pulls her head off of your shoulder. “Yeah,” she nods. “It’s… It’s complicated.”

Your stomach twists as you realise they’ve only come to bat for him. You pull away from her, coldly breaking the embrace. Alex frowns, looking at you with soft eyes. “I should be leaving now,” you say.

She reaches out, tugs on your hand. “No. It’s really, really not what it looks like. It’s—Charles?”

Her boyfriend comes bolting towards where the two of you are, offering you an apologetic look as he runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. Charles lets out a huff that draws out for longer than you expect. “None of us like it,” he says. “It’s… It’s only Carlos’ story to tell. Neither of us know everything.”

“He’s sort of always been hesitant to talk about that,” Alex nods. “About his relationships. But it at least seems like it was only her, for a very long time.”

Charles sighs again.

“It was bad,” he continues. “Very, very bad for him. She is… not good for him. She left when he was thinking about quitting. She would wait for him outside our work and they’d just start going at it, arguing the moment he got off work. And he did quit, and she left for a while, but now…”

“It’s not love,” Alex shakes her head. “So don’t break away, if you can be so gracious. I know it’s selfish to ask, but with Matador and you and everything that’s been going on in his life now…”

Charles comes even closer, puts a hand on where Alex’s is holding onto yours. “He’s become vibrant,” he says, smiling bitterly. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking, but Carlos has changed.”

You’ve been holding in your breath for god knows how long. You let out a belated, deep breath, and it feels painful in the cold air to breathe this deeply. You look at them with eyes that don’t signal anything good, and before any words can even leave your parted lips explaining how conflicted and awful you feel right now, Alex nods. The couple look at each other, before turning back to you with a look of complete understanding.

“It was a big ask,” Charles says. “I get it. But thank you, anyway, and I hope we’ll see you again.”

He mutters something to Alex, holds her hand fondly and kisses her on the cheek before giving you a final nod and retreating into the bar. But his girlfriend stays, holding your hand still as her thumb rubs circles into the back of it.

“I can’t say anything definitive,” she murmurs, still smoothing her thumb over your skin. “I can’t say I have heard any evidence of this. But words can fail us, anyway, and I have seen better evidence. I have seen it, and I know what I saw. Whatever it is you have… it is true. But it’s your choice, babe. Your choice.”

In the corner of your eye, Carlos has long abandoned his station, watching the situation outside of his own bar unravel in front of his eyes. And it makes him feel sick, having to watch you fall apart. Now it becomes crystal clear to him, and Charles, who is watching from afar, what is happening. Well, it’s too little, too late.

You can’t help but feel like this is some sort of divine punishment for having been led astray. You had forgotten what it feels like; you weren’t even aware it was happening. The realisation only happens way after it creeps up on you, the realisation that you’ve been behaving inexplicably irrationally. In the end, it has resulted in very little. So what if he drives you home? So what if he looks at you a certain way? It means nothing—or it meant nothing to him. How shamefully you’ve behaved. You can barely deal with the weight of it.

You stumble out of bed the morning after when daylight streams through your curtains. As much as it pains you to admit it, the night before has certainly dampened your spirits for this weekend. Saturday is joyless, spent mostly lying down on your couch in silence. The worst thing you could have done for yourself is overthink it, and that is exactly what you do, overthink every interaction you have ever had with him, and the worst part is you don’t even come to a satisfying conclusion. It would be so gratifying in a way to end with the sentiment that none of it was ever real, to allow yourself to feel that tragedy and sweep it away by Monday, but you are far too aware that the truth may not be so catastrophic. And that’s much worse; that things may be complicated, too complex for you to understand now, and all you can do is wade in the water and wait. Wait for a conclusion that may never come.

It consumes you in ways you did not realise. It is bizarrely feverish and ails you in more ways than one. You clutch at your stomach, nauseated by the scenes that replay in your head on loop, scenes of her and him together, her in your seat, how he looked at her and she looked at him, how she leaned closer and over the counter. Your head is pounding, chest tightening as your heart becomes heavy.

It won’t be permanent. Heartache is not chronic. You choose to believe it will come and go like a cold, or the flu if it chooses to persist for longer, that eventually you will survive it and return to your old ways. You have a steady job, a comfortable home, you’ve even gotten good friends out of this whole thing. Losing Carlos is not a net negative. The way it is now, it can only end so many ways. You can sit and let it simmer, or you could take it into your own hands and cast it out of your life before it can hurt you more. You can forget about it. Soon he will mean nothing to you, and these visions of them together will subside and disappear. And then life will be normal again.

You can’t say you won’t miss the whirlwind of emotions all of this has come with. It has been a while since you’ve felt so much, so deeply, and you’ve forgotten how much it overwhelms all your senses. You haven’t been dating for around three years at this point, after your last relationship… Well, it wasn’t so much that it crashed and burned; it fizzled out slowly, an emotional deadlock that culminated in him cheating on you. You didn’t cry then, and you’re certainly not starting now, when you’re reaching for your phone to delete Carlos’ number from your contacts.

Before you can, though, a notification pings. Alex wants to get coffee with you. ‘An apology for the trainwreck that was yesterday.’ Today is too soon. ‘I was going to say we should do it tomorrow, anyway.’ Okay, then it’s locked in. You’re having coffee with her tomorrow.

“I swear, on my mother’s life,” she says, hand on her heart while the other clutches her coffee cup. “I had no idea she was there.”

You’re sitting in a little café with Alex, where the oven stays on in the kitchen as they continue to warm their croissants and pastries for the day, the heat radiating to fill the entire space. It’s very cosy, and it smells lovely, like sugar and vanilla. “She came while I was in the bathroom,” Alex continues. “Didn’t even have time to wipe my hands on the paper towels, fuck me.”

You’ve always loved how blunt she is, and it does make you chuckle, a welcome sound that seems to lighten her up too. “I just want you to know that I’m on your side,” she says. “I’ve known Carlos for a long time, sure, but over the weeks we’ve become…”

“I know,” you nod. “I get it. You’re my friend. And I don’t really wanna let go of this just because I’m letting go of the other things.”

“Yeah,” she nods back at you, smiling now. “Exactly. And hey, you don’t have to see Charles ever again, honestly, I can keep him out of our business completely—”

“It’s fine,” you snicker softly, taking a sip of your coffee. “He’s an innocent bystander. He’s safe.”

“Oof, okay, thank god,” she sighs in relief. “Sorry, he’s quite clingy and I know I did offer but I really wouldn’t have known how to get rid of him.”

For an hour more you stay, eventually ordering yourself a Danish as you chat with her about other things, about work, life, the shoes you’ve had in your online shopping cart for way too long (“absolutely fucking not, their sales are total bullshit!”). It feels good to move on, to know you’ve got a safety net when things take a turn. You really are grateful for her, and you’re so glad she took the initiative to reach out and comfort you. Life, as it turns out, will be okay, and you will move on.

But maybe not just yet.

“I’ve been trying to negotiate a price between the two of them but they’re just so stubb—”

Alex halts to a stop mid-sentence. Her eyes drift above your head and out the window, widening before furrowing in confusion. “Sorry,” she says, getting up from her seat hastily. “Just, one minute.”

She bolts out the door, coat flowing in the wind as she runs over to someone, speaks to them in what is seemingly an antagonistic, interrogating tone. Your eyes trail her all the way to him, a meek, hesitant man who seems not so certain of himself either, but insists on whatever his objective is to her as they continue to argue with exaggerated motions.

You recognise those eyes under the cap he’s wearing. He’s looking much scruffier now, more worn out and exhausted. It’s Carlos.

This is admittedly not proofread 😅 so sorry for any mistakes! As always, please feel free to leave any thoughts, ideas and suggestions in my askbox. All my love <3

[strawberry-daiquiris]

wet and messy and/or intercrural for nortrell if it pleases u 🙏🏻😊 (kink prompts)

ty anon, this one was a fun one to kick off with!!!

warnings for some kind of gender thoughts that max hasn't totally worked out in his own head in this one!!!

for the kink generator ask game

****

“You’re not doing me up the arse again,” Max warns, when Lando’s hands start to wander the night he gets to Monaco. “So don’t get any funny ideas.”

Lando groans, and not the good kind, against his neck.

“But why?”

He hadn’t hated it, exactly. It’d just been a bit weird, arsehole out on the bed, feeling cold and then too warm, and then cold again. Max’d felt it for days, sitting weirdly in his sim rig and wondering if that was just his life now, if he’d had his insides altered permanently by Lando and his massive fuck off horse cock. It made him angry, that his body wasn’t made for it, not the way he’d like it to be.

“‘Cos,” Max argues, unconvincingly, but a little flick of his fingernail under Lando’s foreskin and he’s rendered the idiot unable to fight back. Typical. “It’s late Bob, I can’t be arsed with the fingering. I’ll give you a blowie instead, alright?”

Lando sighs, flopping back against the pillows. He lifts his hips up expectantly, and Max rolls his eyes at the same time as he fits his palm around his dick, stroking him slowly as they continue the negotiation. Lando’s got it in his head that once he’s started, he needs to be touched at all times, else it’ll go floppy.

When he told him, Max had to ask if that had actually really happened ever, and Lando went eight different shades of the pink-purple spectrum in ten seconds and blurted out the word once before he buried his face in the mattress and told Max to fuck off, he didn’t want to have sex anyway.

Max hasn’t asked again after that. 

“Rub off between your thighs?” Lando counters, to Max’s very nice offer to suck his dick. “S’more like a hole.”

“What, than my actual mouth hole?” 

Lando rolls his eyes and lands his hand on Max’s thigh, stroking through the downy hairs. Despite his protestations, Max can feel himself get going, his dick starting to twitch to life properly.

“Oh fine,” he relents, rolling onto his back and bringing his legs up a bit, his dick flapping against his stomach. “Whatever makes you fucking happy.”

Lando’s messy with the lube, pumping it vigorously onto himself and the backs of Max’s thighs, working his huge paw through the gap Max has left for him to fuck himself happy on. If he’s honest, Max could probably fall asleep like this, head resting on Lando’s expensive feather pillows, if it weren’t for the way Lando has to narrate everything.

“So fit, Max. D’you know it’s fucking sick you let me do this? I love your legs, and your moles, and so on.”

Max snorts, shifting a bit when Lando slides his dick in for the first time. There’s lube dripping down the backs of his thighs, coating his arse, like it’s dripping out of him. He tries to control himself, the urge to touch where Lando is pressed.

“Mm, yeah, potential skin cancer, talk about attractive,” he jokes, trying to distract himself.

Lando leans down and fits his mouth over Max’s knee, dragging his teeth along the graze he’s still healing from an unfortunate incident filming for Quadrant over in Sweden.

They’re not allowed to talk about it. Death, or danger, or any of that sort of stuff. Morbid humour is strictly for within the four walls of Tarkov, and the dark, gloomy series Lando likes them to watch on Netflix.

Max relents, reaching a hand between his legs to alter Lando’s angle so every thrust hits against the underside of his dick, brushes his balls. It feels good like that, like the warm and spongy parts are doing what they should.

“Like that, alright?”

Lando smiles, kissing over where he’s been biting, holding on for dear life as he starts to thrust properly.

“Does it feel good?”

Max sighs, closes his eyes. It always makes him feel a bit funny, how much Lando wants it to be good for both of them. It’d almost be easier if he didn’t care, wasn’t watching Max to make sure he’s satisfying him, wasn’t hell bent on making him his fucking wife, on top of the sex and the banter and the good chat.

He reaches out and takes Lando’s hand, threading their fingers together over his knee.

“Yeah, mate. It does.”

He jerks himself lazily, knuckles knocking against the head of Lando’s dick as it pokes obscenely through his thighs. Max thinks it looks a bit stupid. Would be hot with a girl, all smooth skin and cunt out, but his thighs just look messy, hair plastered down and sticky with it.

It only gets worse when he comes, striping his stomach, getting it in the smattering of hair on his chest. Lando’s reaction is immediate, reaching over to scrape his hand through the puddle, smearing it down Max until he can coat his dick in it, adding to the mess between his legs.

“Bob, for fuck’s sake,” Max is less forgiving now he’s come, and the fun’s over entirely. “It’s like a bog down there now.”

“S’good,” Lando says, voice dreamy, biting his lip into his mouth in a way that makes Max’s traitorous arsehole clench, fuck’s sake. “You’re so wet.”

“What,” Max laughs, nervous. “Like a girl?”

Lando nods furiously, as Max squeezes a bit tighter, using all the strength in his legs to make the hole as tight as possible. 

It’s enough for Lando to come, striping Max’s chest, his neck, his face.

“Yeah, bit like a girl, fuck.” Lando slumps forward. “That was so hot.”

Max closes his eyes, squeezing at the stranglehold of Lando’s fingers on his knee, and swallows it all down, deep, where he doesn’t touch.

“Next time,” he says quietly. “You can do it up the arse.”

[rie-092]

OURS.

[ yandere! stanley snyder and xeno houston wingfield ]

summary: your good ol' yandere but this time it's a jack of all trades and a mad scientist.

note: ahhhhh! i just finished reading dr. stone and i'm dying to make a yandere headcannon out of this duo! and this is the prompt! i want to add senku here but i decided to make a separate headcannon for him! then i'll do wind breaker next and the manhwas that i read during my christmas vacation and while i'm drowning with my school works then your requests! yeyyyy! (I'm just escaping from the reality, pls don't mind me.)

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Have you ever wondered what it's like to have a super genius and talented best friends? Like having best friends who excel with everything they do and give you an inferiority complex. Well, you should ask (reader) because that is her everyday life with Xeno and Stanley.

No offense; you really adore both Xeno and Stanley. But sometimes, you couldn't help but be jealous of their talents, brains, and skills. You spend countless nights studying and training to be able to catch up to them. But you always end up falling behind.

While Xeno always ends up getting a perfect mark on every test. You, on the other hand, were in the middle rank at your school. While you tried to follow every training that Stanley was doing, you always ended up with a broken bone, scratches, and bruises.

But you don't have to worry! Xeno and Stanley was always here for you! Do you remember the serial kidnapping case that happened in your school before? And how all of the victims was those people who talk shit about you? Well, you thought it was just a coincidence. But you see, Xeno needs some test subjects for his experiments. And man, Xeno hates hurting animals at all. So why not use humans? Pretty fun, if you ask him. While Stanley who happened to be free during those times did all the physical works in exchange of hearing the desperate pleas and seeing the blood of those people.

Oh, you also don't have to worry! Since those two knew how to hide their traces. Xeno just needs to mix some dangerous drugs and then boom! They can watch how the body dissolves along with the other evidence. A pretty fun sight, to be honest.

Meanwhile, Yandere! Xeno is the total opposite of Stanley. This guy doesn't even hide his tendencies that well. Don't blame him; you're too loveable! He really likes how you always try to catch up to him and Stanley all the time. (It's just a secret, but he really likes it when you cry—it's one of his secret pleasure.)

Anyway! They are both possessive and obsessive. Stanley is overprotective and overbearing, while Xeno is manipulative. Wow, yes! You are stuck in the middle of this mess. But you don't have to worry! Just like the center of the storm, both Xeno and Stanley are always calm and collected when they are around you—but please don't ask why they are practically clinging to you when you are around, please. You are the only thing that keeps them sane.

Oh, are you wondering why Stanley seemed to always know where you were? Ask Xeno. Because that little sly fox planted some tracker on your stuff that he gave to you as a gift. There are some who contain the chips who can measure your heartbeat, temperature, and voice recording so he can be aware of who you are talking to.

Are they a jealous type of yandere? No. Because you see, they are both aware of how dense you were. So aside from them, you unconsciously shut down every advance of your friends, acquaintances, and colleagues. Which is a good thing, according to Xeno.

A few months before graduating in highschool. You made up your mind on becoming a doctor, thanks to Xeno's advice. And the two of them were more than happy to help you.

They both like how you gain the world's attention with your skills and wit. You easily became one of the best doctors in the world. And man, they are so proud. But when you suddenly said that you wanted to go to Japan and become a school doctor—they lost their minds.

Are you going to abandon them? No way in hell. Over their dead gorgeous body, okay?!? Have they done something wrong? No, as far as they remember, they only shower you with love and affection—okay, they are a little overbearing, but—!!!

When you assure them that you will only stay there for five years and will finally move in with them. They finally calmed down. Okay, deal. They will shut up for now. But they swear that they will surely visit you every month!

Spoiler alert, you've got yourself a pretty cute lettucehead student who somewhat recognizes your abilities and follows you around. Okay, sure, he sees you as an older sister—nothing more and nothing less. Sure, he spends his time in the clinic whenever he's not in the lab room, but it doesn't mean anything at all. Sure, he somewhat ends up tearing up the love letters that students leave on your desk and taking the chocolates that they give to you. But it doesn't mean anything at all, okay?

Anyway! When the petrification happened and you were stuck in Japan without your lovely “best friends,“. Let's just say that they became worse after they were de-petrified. You were not there. They don't know what happened to you. What if your body got destroyed into pieces? What if they will not be able to revive you even if they try? What if—

Let's just say this time they won't be as lenient as before. They will make sure that you stay with them this time. Even if it means they have to tie you down with them or lock you up.

“saving the world? no, love. you always comes first. while everything else is secondary.”

“you know that i don't want to hurt you, baby."

[i-prefer-west-side]

https://www.tumblr.com/rosauniverseblog/697656197355028480?source=share fic prompt

A REASON TO SURVIVE

A Still post-ep

She's so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that if it wasn't for Castle and the solid support of his arm around her waist, she may have just laid down in the elevator and fallen asleep right there.

Instead, she leans on him, lets him guide her into her apartment, vaguely registers him dropping her keys into the bowl by the door. She hadn't protested even a little bit when he'd taken the keys and opened the passenger door for her.

Fuck, she's tired.

He walks her to the couch, lowers her to it, and kneels in front of her. "What do you need?" he asks quietly, his hands rubbing the tops of her thighs.

Heat begins to simmer though her at his touch, but all the adrenaline that got her through the day is gone. She can't even think right now. "I don't know," she whispers, covering his hands with hers, stopping their slow journey over her jeans.

He slides his hands out from under hers, but doesn't go far, lifts her legs so he can undo her boots. "What did Gates say?"

She can only watch as he slides her boots from her feet, then peels off her socks, one-by-one. He stands and holds out his hands, and really, she shouldn't be surprised when he lifts her into his arms.

"To take tomorrow off," she murmurs, dropping her cheek to his shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. she feels his steps stutter when her lips brush across his skin, but neither of them escalates.

He sets her onto her bed and ducks into the bathroom, and she hears the bathwater start running moments before he reappears. He pulls her into a standing position again, this time tugging at her shirt, slowly undressing her.

"You'll join me, right?"

He chuckles, the low rumble sending trembles through her body as he wraps his arms around her from behind. "Of course."

She doesn't know if it's the hot water or the man sitting at her back, but the bath works wonders, slowly relaxing her rigid muscles, her boyfriend's arms around her offering a place to call home.

Her eyes begin to flutter shut, but before sleep can pull her under she moves forward, Castle's protest dying when she turns and kneels in front of him. "Thank you," she whispers, lifting her hands from the water, pressing her wet palms to his cheeks.

He turns his head and smudges a kiss to her palm. "For what?"

"For staying. I wish you hadn't - stop." She covers his mouth with her hand when he starts to protest. "I'm still mad that you did, that you were willing to die, just like that. But you being there, staying, it..." She trails off, collecting her thoughts. "I resigned myself to my fate. You gave me a reason to keep fighting. To survive."

His eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and her name falls from his lips, a quiet rasp that she interrupts with the soft press of her mouth to his.

[captn-trex]

200 follower celebration event !

thank you so much for 200 followers!! very super cool of you guys for following me and interacting with the work I put out, it seriously means the world to me :)

to make it a little fun, I'm going to be writing song inspired fics, because music is definitely something that inspires me and my writing a lot! and also I like to know what other people are listening to because I'm nosey hehe. please make sure to read the rules !!!

this event will be running from today (jan 2nd) to jan 31st, ending 11:59pm GMT (may be subject to change)

how it works

please add all this information to your request :)

step 1: pick a clone, any clone

step 2: choose a dialogue prompt from the list below (or two, you can just give the prompt number)

step 3: give me a song to inspire the vibe/story of the fic

step 4: note any extra information you feel is important (such as any specific lyrics you love, tropes, story ideas, sfw/nsfw etc. etc.)

dialogue prompts

fluffy prompts

1. "I can't remember the last time I did this with someone"

2. "here, why don't we share?"

3. "I've missed this"

4. "you could stop staring now." / "oh no, absolutely not."

5. "read to me"

6. "come here sweetheart"

7. "you're just the cutest" / "you're the only one who is allowed to say that."

8. "give me your hand"

9. "come lie with me. let me hold you"

10. "look at that, your hand fits perfectly in mine"

angsty prompts

11. "did you really have to be that honest?"

12. "can we start over?"

13. "of course it meant something!"

14. "that isn't what I meant and you know it"

15. "everyone else might be buying it, but I'm not"

16. "I can't keep acting like I don't see something is wrong with you"

17. "we need to talk about that little stunt you pulled earlier"

18. "don't you ever wonder why I get like this?"

19. "what is your problem?"

20. "do you want my help or not?"

hurt/comfort prompts

21. "when's the last time you actually slept?"

22. "you're safe now"

23. "stop pretending that you're fine! you need a medic"

24. "I'm not leaving, okay?"

25. "how are you feeling?" / "will you stop asking me that"

26. "take these meds, they'll help"

27. "let me help you this time"

28. "I'm sorry" / "don't be sorry, it's not your fault"

29. "take your time, I'll be here when you're ready to talk"

30. "promise?" / "of course, I promise"

flirty prompts

31. "don't try to charm your way out of this" / "you think I'm charming?"

32. "bite me" / "I thought you'd never ask"

33. "why didn't we do this sooner?" / "you were too busy pretending you hated me"

34. "this isn't over" / "oh, I'll make sure of it"

35. "I can't help it, you're fun to mess with"

36. "why not tonight? I'm even wearing something pretty"

37. "you know... you're kinda cute when you're mad"

38. "were you always this pretty?"

39. "do you have a name or can I just call you mine?" / "does that line usually work for you?"

40. "hello beautiful, you alone here?" / "...we came here together"

smutty prompts

41. "hmm, you're not very patient are you?"

42. "can you kiss it better?"

43. "that's my good girl"

44. "you can do better than that sweetheart"

45. "I could make you feel better"

46. "is that a threat or a promise?"

47. "can you feel how much I want you?"

48. "staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?" / "make me shut up then"

49. "louder. let me hear you pretty girl"

50. "can you be good for me?"

misc/extra prompts

51. "it's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?"

52. "I told you to knock first!"

53. "don't look at me like that" / "like what?"

54. "is that the best you can do?"

55. "I've been wanting to kick your ass all week"

56. "is that really necessary?"

57. "what are we?" / "you're asking me?"

58. "I can feel you staring at me. You aren't being very subtle, you know"

59. "do you have a crush on me or something?"

60. "you're so jealous it makes you look stupid"

request rules/guidelines

if your request goes against these, I will not complete it, so please read this carefully before requesting!

this event is exclusively for clone x fem/gn reader pairings, just because that's what I write for, but you're welcome to give suggestions like jedi!reader, medic!reader etc. but no clone x reader x clone

make sure to mention whether you want it to be sfw or nsfw !!!

I have the right to refuse any request if I'm just not vibing with it for whatever reason, or particularly if it's something I'm not comfortable with (non-exhaustive list incl: noncon & dubcon, aforementioned clonecest, AU stuff outside of the context of the star wars galaxy — like modern AU type stuff, motherhood/pregnancy/kids etc.)

abide by the request template; I want to keep all fics in this event within the same parameters

I will only be accepting requests between the given dates, any received afterwards will not be counted

if you don't plan on reblogging, don't request from me :)

extra info

I'll have anon requests on, but this is a follower event after all, so I'd prefer if you didn't use the anon function — the basic requirement is that you follow me and have interacted with my blog

feel free to message me if you have a more elaborate idea/want to discuss/clarify/bounce ideas off each other!! I'm always down for that anyway, so don't be shy :)

clones I'd like to write for if you want to take that into consideration: fives, wolffe, tech, echo (tbb), kix

alrighty! that's everything :)

as a reminder: this event is running until jan 31st so make sure to send in your request before then!

all works in this event will be tagged under #trex's 200 follower celebration, and will most likely be added to a masterlist at some point

I can't wait to see what you guys send in ! thank you again and happy requesting :)

— lia <3

[possibilistfanfiction]

if you're still taking caitvi prompts: first time

do with that whatever you wish, i love seeing what you come up with

[caitvi wedding!! if there's one thing about me it's that i love outside pov so some ekko pov, some little hints of 207 :) ao3 if u want.]

//

'and you're sure you have the rings?'

jinx groans from where she's sitting on the couch and flops back dramatically, no regard whatsoever for her dress; you roll your eyes but vi is so clearly nervous you pat your pocket and assure her, 'right here, just like they were five minutes ago.'

'okay,' she says, then looks in the mirror one more time. she fusses with her hair, her undercut neat and the rest swept back out of her face; she straightens her already perfectly tailored suit jacket. you share a smile with jinx when she lets out a big breath.

'let's go get you married then, yeah?'

vi blushes all over again, an expression you could only accurately describe as lovesick on her face. jinx groans again but she happily tucks her arm into the crook of your elbow when you offer, kisses you on the cheek.

/

vander is crying before he even starts walking vi down the aisle, while you wait in the wing of the reception hall attached to the truly gorgeous garden that they're getting married in. it's a much larger affair than vi had wanted but a much smaller one than caitlyn's mom had tried to insist on, and there are fairy lights and, predictably, violets everywhere, and vander hugs vi tight before you and jinx get your cue to walk down the aisle before them.

it's more pomp and circumstance than vi wanted — the rows of chairs, each side fairly equally attended, and the full course meal at the reception, and the string orchestra who starts to play. you helped plan most parts of it: jinx was officially vi's best man, a title she insisted on, but you'd helped out with a lot of the logistics she didn't really seem to have capacity to deal with on her own. it was fun, though, to work together with one another and with jayce, caitlyn's maid of honor — another title jinx insisted on, which had made jayce laugh while he easily agreed — to truly irritate cassandra, as she politely, after a few months, insisted you call her. for all her intensity that had driven jinx up the wall, you could tell she really does love caitlyn, and caitlyn loves vi, so the compromises became easier and easier as your planning moved along.

and now, it's perfect, you think as you stand next to jinx and watch vi get teary the second she sees caitlyn in her wedding gown, tobias smiling widely beside her. she's tall and regal and graceful and pretty, and when tobias kisses vi's cheek and then sets caitlyn's hand gently in vi's outstretched one, blushes on both of their cheeks, you let out a relieved breath because it's actually happening, and it's all turned out so wonderful.

the ceremony itself is short, and they say their vows through easy, happy tears, caitlyn using vi's full name at one point in a tone so reverent, in a way only she can manage, in a way only she has ever had permission to, even you feel like you might cry. you hand the officiant the rings when it's time, and vi smiles at you, and her hands shake but they're strong and purposed when she slides the diamond band onto caitlyn's finger, and then caitlyn kisses vi's palm before slipping the thick, simple gold band onto her finger. soon enough, they kiss — short and sweet but with enough passion to make jinx grimace, which makes you laugh as you squeeze her hand — and then they're introduced, for the first time, as the kirammans, together.

/

the reception is, quite genuinely, the best party you've ever been to, thank you very much. there's dinner, and tons of finger food, and you're relieved that both vi and caitlyn actually do manage to eat because they both constantly have a glass of champagne in their hands, accepting many toasts. they share a first dance, vi very seriously concentrating on the steps from the classes she took and the moves she practiced with you and jinx until caitlyn grins and kisses her cheek and whispers something in her ear; vi laughs and her posture relaxes while she tucks her head into the crook of caitlyn's neck and they just sway, easy, happy, an intimacy earned over years of steadfastness.

there's the father-daughter dance, vander and vi making quite the pair next to the easy elegance, born and bred, of caitlyn and tobias, but they end up laughing together by the end. vander and tobias sit together afterward; they're family, now, but they have been for years already too.

'hey, cass,' jinx says, leaning back in her chair when she notices caitlyn's mom walking up to your table. she has a pinched expression on her face at the nickname, and you have to fight the urge not to laugh — but she's family too. for all of cassandra's annoyance, you think she actually does have a soft spot for jinx.

you're proven right when she sits down, poised as ever, and says, 'i just wanted to thank you both.' she looks over at caitlyn and vi, who are wrapped up in each other. vi's hair has lost some of its careful styling, starting to fall into her eyes, and she's ditched her suit jacket, draping it over caitlyn's shoulders instead. caitlyn's eyes are a little unfocused, an unknown number of champagne glasses in, her cheeks flushed, a gentle hand on vi's jaw before they kiss. 'i've never seen caitlyn so happy.'

'you can say it,' jinx responds. 'we were right.'

cassandra sighs, displeased, but then, after a beat, they both laugh. 'perhaps we owe ekko, our peacemaker.'

'you definitely do. i accept venmo, paypal, zelle, or also you can just pay our rent.'

cassandra raises a brow, but it's fond and amused, so much like caitlyn. 'i was under the impression that, perhaps, my daughter might already be doing a fair amount of that.'

caitlyn does help with the rent on the apartment you and jinx share, it's true, and she randomly has groceries delivered sometimes; she and vi have taken you and jinx on some pretty epic climbing trips, and neither you nor jinx are going to finish your graduate programs with any debt. but, still, 'new car, then?'

cassandra laughs and jinx leans forward, intrigued. 'great suggestion, babe.' she slings an arm around your shoulder. 'cassandra, we'll get back to you on the make and model. hybrid, though, for sure.'

cassandra rolls her eyes but, when she stands, she does wrap jinx in a soft hug, and then squeezes your shoulder.

jinx clears her throat, and you decide to spare her from any teasing, just this once. a song comes on that you both love, and she perks up. you grin, and then offer your hand. 'may i have this dance?'

she rolls her eyes but she takes your hand tenderly and leads you to the dance floor.

/

thankfully, even though you'd been best man part 2 — jinx's official title for you — you don't have to give a toast. jinx does, though, or at least she'd badgered her way into caitlyn and vi letting her; she's still, always will be, a loose canon, but she's deeply cared about this wedding, so you know she wouldn't be too crazy.

she tells a funny, sweet story about how vi would always scare her monsters away when they were little and then continues. 'caitlyn, i'm very grateful that i get to annoy you officially now, forever.' caitlyn laughs, so content. 'and vi, thank you for saving my life, so many times and in so many ways. and thank you for being my big sister. i love you.' vi wipes under her eyes and smiles so big jinx can only smile back just the same. she lifts her glass. 'to the happy couple.'

/

the party is dwindling down, caitlyn and vi already having left to go to their hotel room before they leave on their honeymoon in the morning. jinx swipes a bottle of champagne and takes your hand, then leads you out to a terrace that overlooks the city and sits on the edge, her dress carefully tucked beneath her.

'some night,' she says, wistful.

it's hard to look at her, now, without getting overwhelmed, so you keep staring at the buildings, far off in the distance, their shine and shimmer. 'it's beautiful.'

'where'd you learn those moves?' she asks, teasing.

you've danced together for years, all through college and grad school, but, still, tonight was special. 'oh, i was just following your lead.'

jinx laughs. 'he's got lines.'

you laugh, and you sit in the quiet with her for a bit.

'thank you,' she says, eventually, quietly, so sincere your heart breaks a little bit.

'for what?'

she gestures in the air vaguely, and you understand that sometimes things are just too big for words. it had been a hard few months, far beyond wedding planning: one of jinx's most important medications had started to have worse and eventually untenable physical side effects, so she'd had to be hospitalized to figure out a new combination that would help keep her psychologically stable much more comfortably and safely, and with fewer other medications to manage side effects. it was easier than it was in the past — partially because caitlyn had gotten her, immediately, into the best program in the nicest facility with experts she herself had recruited, but mostly because jinx was so determined to get better again, on board for all of it. even on the days she wasn't as lucid as you'd grown so used to, her psychosis was different: gentler, less tortured. she was kind to you, through it all.

'you know you never have to thank me for stuff like that,' you say. 'getting to have all of this with you, it's more than i ever dreamed.'

'still,' she says, and she's so beautiful. 'i know i’m… a lot. so y hank you.'

'you know i'd never give up on you, right?' you tuck a strand of hair, grown out in the past year so that it sits at her shoulders now, bangs that you'd clumsily helped her cut one night like you were kids again, behind her ear gently. her eyes are so clear, so blue. she tucks her head into her chest and you wrap your arm around her. you've loved her your whole life; you've loved her like this for years. 'but it's such a happy night,' you say. 'want to just... pretend like it's the first time?'

it's hard, sometimes, to hold all the grief of your lives when you were younger, all the grief of a brain so troubled and so extraordinary, in the same hands that hold all the joy — your palms aren't big enough, or they're too rough, or they're not strong enough, or they shake and tremble and it all slips through your fingers. it's hard but it's worth it, when she feels it too, when you get to hold it together.

her hand is gentle on your jaw, cool and thin and brilliant, and it's easy to remember your first kiss, to remember all the first kisses that came after that as she healed too. it's easy to kiss her again, for the first time. there are vows here too, ones the two of you say all the time: you make sure she eats and she makes sure you get to bed on time; you lift the weight of the world off of each other's shoulders with silly inventions you make together, and belaying safely, and holding her when she can't quite make out what's real and what isn't. you're real, and your love is real, and the promises are holy, and unspoken, and there all the same.

she sniffles when you back up. 'who knew vi's stupid wedding would make me so emotional?'

you laugh, wipe under her eyes to catch her slightly smeared mascara. 'i could've guessed.'

'we're never doing this, right?'

'a kiramman wedding? god no.'

she grins.

'i'd elope for tax cuts, though, if you ever wanted.'

'incredibly romantic.'

you both laugh and you lace your fingers with hers and then shrug. 'it's you and me.' you bring your joined hands to your mouth and gently kiss the top of hers.

'you and me, forever,' she adds.

'that sounds pretty good.'

'yeah.' she looks out at the city, the light brought down like stars. 'it does.'

[lulublack90]

Prompt 3 - Marble

Wolfstar, January 3, word count 522

Previous part First part

Remus rushed down the stairs and opened the door. “Hi,” Sirius beamed at him. “Did you miss me?” Remus reached out and dragged him inside. “I am going to take that as a yes,”

“Sirius, shhh. Look my dad's upstairs, and he’s not all that happy, you know?…” Sirius’s nose crinkled in the most adorable way as he tried to understand Remus’s words. It only took a second and then his eyebrows shot up his forehead as his eyes widened in understanding. 

“Oh, your dad’s not so rainbow-friendly. So, best buds while he’s around?” Remus could have kissed Sirius, so he did. He leaned in, kissed a quick, light kiss on his cheek, and led a slightly blushing Sirius up the stairs.

“Dad, this is Sirius, Sirius, this is my dad, Lyall,” Remus introduced them awkwardly. Sirius strode forward confidently and offered his hand to Lyall to shake. 

“Sirius Black, Mr Lupin, a pleasure to meet you,” Remus didn’t know if Lyall just did it automatically or if Lyall genuinely meant it, but he took Sirius’s hand and shook it.

“Er, thanks,” Lyall grumbled. 

They sat down on Remus’s uncomfortable sofa and sat in awkward silence. 

“So, er, Cecil, what do you do?” Lyall asked, breaking the silence. 

“Oh, it’s Sirius,” Sirius said kindly. Remus could see Lyall’s eye roll without even needing to look. He’d slipped his hand into his pocket and was rolling his lucky marble between his fingers as he tried to keep from panicking. “I work for my parents,”

“And what do they do?” Lyall questioned further, clearly not all that impressed. 

“Oh, they do a lot. But I’ve recently been put in charge of the Black Star Hotel chain.” Remus choked on the mouthful of water he’d just tried to swallow. 

“Well, that is rather impressive,” and Remus choked more as a smile spread across Lyall’s lips. Lyall stood, clapped Remus on the back as he hacked up a lung and headed towards the door. “Well, good luck to you Sirius,” He said to Sirius, and if Remus didn’t know better, it would have sounded genuine. “Remus you picked a good ‘un,” And then he was gone. 

“He wasn’t as bad as I thought he’d be,” Sirius said as he went to check if Remus was alright. 

“Yeah, sure,” Remus managed to wheeze as the coughing subsided. 

“Seriously, you haven’t met my parents. Lyall is a kitten compared to them,” Sirius lifted his nose and sniffed the air. “Are you cooking something?”

“Oh, yeah, I made dinner for us,” Sirius’s jaw began to quiver as he stared across the small space at Remus. 

“You cooked for me?”

“Yeah,” Sirius sped across the room and hugged Remus. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” His voice was so quiet Remus almost missed what he said. 

“It’s only lasagne, and I used a jar. It’s really not all that special.” 

“Shut up, Remus,” Sirius said, holding him tighter, and Remus accepted the thanks, wrapping his arms around Sirius again and wondering how this madman wormed his way so much into his life in less than 24 hours. 

Next part

[alaskan-wallflower]

hihi! for the prompts, I really like the caretaker asking, "are you gonna get sick?" and was wondering if you could do something like that with pony and darry? no pressure whatsoever! :)

Yeah, sure!!

4.) “Are you going to be sick?”

Pony was…anxious, to say the least. Nobody in his group wanted to do their part in the group project, and because he was “the smart kid who skipped fourth grade”, he was seen as “the kid who can handle everyone else’s workload”. Which…he couldn’t. Obviously. He had been tearing himself up since he had gotten home from school, falling into a rhythm of sketching, erasing, sketching, inking, erasing, coloring…god, he hated this. Still he went. Sketching, erasing, sketching, inking, writing, knocking…knocking?

“Pooony?” a singongy voice called out. Soda must’ve been home from work. “Pony, it’s time to eat.”

Eating? God, no. Not right now. His stomach twisted at the thought.

“I uh…I’ll be down in a sec!”

“Well, be down quick, or I might eat your portion too!”

Go ahead, he thought. He didn’t plan on eating anyway. Some time went by when a different knock came from outside. “Pony, come on, it’s time for dinner!” Darry was a lot more gruff than Sods, and didn’t have a problem letting himself into the room. Pony looked up like a deer in the headlights. He didn’t even realize how bad this looked. Here he was, surrounded by pencils, poster board, glue that had dripped onyo the ground, art supplies strewn across the floor…god, it was a mess.

“What are you doing?” the brunet asked, leaning against the doorframe. That was all it took for Pony to crack.

“What’s it look like In doin’?! I’m doin’ this dang group project all by myself lonesome and how come? ‘Cause everyone thinks I hafta have an Einstein level IQ, and I get stuck doin’ everyone’s dirty work!” his stomach was churning, on the verge of emptying itself. It usually got like that when he got anxious. His belly would become a war zone, and he’d either throw up violently…or the other option, which he didn’t wanna think about.

“Pony-“ Dary tried to step in, but he wasn’t done.

“An’…an’ they dump all this on me all cause I skipped the fourth grade, and it just ain’t fair!” his stomach groaned audibly and he clutched his mouth, sitting down. Darry immediately stepped in, all too acquainted with Pony’s…tummy troubles.

“Pony? Are you gonna be sick?”

All the teen could do was nod as his stomach started to slosh, and a sickly burp slipped up. Darry was quick to act, and immediately stood Pony up and practically dragged him to the bathroom as he held his long, still somewhat bleached bangs out of his face. Pony didn’t have much in him to begin with, so he didn’t get much up, save for some dry heaving and burping, but eventually he finished, tears of effort pooling in his eyes. He blinked them back soon enough though. Darry flushed the toilet and sat Pony against the wall.

“Breathe with me, kiddo. Can ya do that? In for seven…” he inhaled deeply, putting Pony’s hand on his chest for good measure. “Hold for four…and out for eight. Can you do that?” he wasn’t the greatest at comforting, but he had seen Soda do this with Pony, and even himself when he was panicking. When Pony was calm enough, he let his hands go and gave him a cup of water to swish and rinse.

“How about this. How’s about we go downstairs to eat, then we can come back upstairs and work on this together. Okay?”

Pony shook his head. spitting out his water. “The teachers will know I got help from you…”

“And if they ask, you can tell ‘em your ‘partners’ didn’t do jack to help ya. Got it?”

Pony killed it over. Sounded just fine to him.

“Okay. Thank you, Darry…”

“You’re welcome Pone. Now, how about we go eat?”

Prompts here!!

[illegalpaladin]

Ficlet/drabble prompt: Spock asks his parents for advice because he wants to be in a relationship with Jim but doesn't know how to go about it.

Aw man, I LOVE this prompt so much. Sorry it took me a minute! I was really trying to think about how this one would go. I named my word document "Sarek: Romance Expert." I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for sending this in!

Spock was in his room, sitting stiffly in front of his computer with his hands firmly in his lap. On the screen, side by side, were Sarek and Amanda. 

“Spock,” Amanda said with a gentle smile, “it isn’t often that you call. To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

The relationship Spock had with his father had been tense throughout his adulthood. Even after they– to a certain extent– had made amends when Sarek had been aboard the Enterprise, Spock would not classify their relationship as a friendly one. 

Even now, at the word pleasure, Sarek looked like he was trying not to bristle. 

“I have found myself in a situation,” Spock said, selecting his words carefully. “Due to your expertise in the matter, I realized it would be most logical to direct my inquiries to the two of you.” 

“Our expertise?” Amanda’s brow furrowed in confusion. Sarek’s eyebrow twitched. 

“Yes.” Spock wanted to shift, to squirm under Sarek’s gaze. But, as that would be most un-Vulcan, he refrained. He knew the words that were coming next were heavy, but he was unsure precisely how they would hit. “I have found a human that I wish to pursue… Romantically.” 

“Romantically,” Sarek echoed flatly.

“Romantically?” Amanda straightened in her seat. “A Human?” 

“Yes.” Spock’s hands flexed in his lap, tensing and untensing. 

Amanda’s hands steepled in front of her face; her delight was apparent in the way her eyes sparkled. “Oh, Spock– that’s wonderful news!” 

Sarek did not look as enthusiastic. Though, to his benefit, he didn’t look dismayed, either. 

“So,” Amanda’s hands fell back to her sides, and her smile softened again. “You wish to know how to pursue this Human?”

“I am unfamiliar with Human courting customs,” Spock explained, trying to keep the rush from his voice. “And thus I am unsure how to continue.” 

“It is Captain James Kirk that you are interested in?” 

Spock’s gaze shifted to Sarek as he tried– and likely failed– to hide his shock. “Yes,” he managed after a moment. 

“Hm.” Sarek’s brow twitched again, and Spock braced himself for the words of disappointment. He was more than used to disappointment by now. 

Sarek leaned forward. His gaze stayed steady and even, and Spock could see his mouth turned in the slightest frown. 

“My son,” Sarek began. Spock tensed and untensed his toes to keep himself unmoving. “In order to pursue a Human, you must be aware of just how different Human culture as a whole is from Vulcan.” 

Spock blinked back his surprise. Sarek seemed to register this, and his frown deepened minutely. 

“Humans are rash. They are loud with their emotions and with their intentions.” 

Amanda seemed unfazed by this. Spock wasn’t sure if the words were meant to be insulting. 

When Spock didn’t respond, Sarek leaned back and settled back into place. “What I am saying,” he continued with the smallest hint of agitation, “Is that James Kirk’s interest in you is apparent. There is no reason to worry yourself over Human courting customs.”

Spock had to keep his mouth from falling open as the shock of his father’s words hit him. He’d said it so simply, as if it were a fact as clear as day. 

And if he were saying it that way, that must be the case. “I see,” he finally managed. 

“It was the same with the two of us, you know,” Amanda hummed. “When I first met your father, I–” 

“Spock does not have time for such stories,” Sarek interrupted flatly. “He is the First Officer of a starship. Surely he has more important matters to attend to.” 

Spock could barely hear the words. His head was spinning. His mouth moved on its own. “Yes. I do have some tasks that need my attention.” 

“As I suspected. Goodbye, Spock.” 

Amanda sighed and shook her head just slightly. “Good luck, Spock. Not that you need it.” 

And with that, the call ended. 

[tkdb-hell]

Hdhd can you do #12 with Kaito??

#12 - Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

Kisses Prompt List • Kisses Masterlist

(I do my best to write the reader as gender neutral unless otherwise specified - if you send me an ask and prefer masc or fem, please let me know)

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

The Frostheim ballroom was alive with music and chatter, the grand chandeliers casting shifting patterns across the marble floors. Kaito Fuji weaved nervously through the crowd, tugging at the crisp collar of his uniform. Though he looked stunning in Frostheim’s icy blue hues, he couldn’t help but feel out of place among the house’s usual elite.

His eyes darted to the captain’s raised dais, where Jin Kamurai sat, exuding the same intimidating aura as always. Kaito wasn’t sure which was worse: Jin’s sharp blue gaze or the thinly veiled disdain in his smirk. Either way, Kaito didn’t want to risk catching his attention.

Yet, his heart raced for an entirely different reason tonight.

You were there, standing near one of the ballroom’s ornate windows, your elegant outfit making you glow in the soft light. You met his gaze with a gentle smile that sent his nerves scattering like snow in the wind.

Taking a deep breath, Kaito moved toward you, careful not to draw too much attention. When he reached your side, he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s… let’s go somewhere quieter,” he said, his tone a mix of nerves and excitement.

You raised an amused brow but nodded, letting him guide you through the maze of dancing couples and clusters of gossipy Frostheim students. You both slipped unnoticed into a dimly lit corridor, where the sound of the ball faded into a distant hum.

When Kaito finally stopped, you were in a hidden alcove tucked behind a curtain, with faint moonlight streaming through a frosted window. He hesitated, fidgeting with his cuffs before finally looking at you.

“I, um, read somewhere that—uh, people like privacy for… stuff like this,” he stammered, his cheeks turning a vibrant pink.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, stepping closer to him. “You mean for kissing?”

“Y-Yeah!” he exclaimed, before quickly lowering his voice. “I just… didn’t want Jin to see. Or anyone else, really. He’d probably never let me hear the end of it.”

You reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “Well, I’d say this is private enough.”

Kaito’s breath hitched as you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His initial tension melted away as he responded, his hands gently resting on your waist. It was clumsy yet sweet, his nervous energy only making the moment more endearing.

When you finally pulled away, Kaito was staring at you with wide, wonder-filled eyes, his lips parted as if to say something.

“Was that okay?” you teased, tilting your head.

“Okay? That was… amazing,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Then, as if remembering something, he laughed nervously. “I-I mean, I should probably thank that magazine, huh?”

You grinned. “Or maybe just your instincts.”

His face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he ducked his head shyly. But before either of you could say anything more, a sharp voice cut through the silence.

“Fuji.”

You both froze, spinning to see Jin standing at the end of the corridor, his piercing gaze zeroed in on the two of you.

“Care to explain what you’re doing back here?” Jin asked, his tone cold yet laced with faint amusement.

Kaito nearly choked on his response. “N-Nothing! We weren’t doing anything! Right, [Name]?”

You rolled your eyes, hiding your grin. “Right.”

Jin crossed his arms, clearly unconvinced. “Next time, Fuji, try not to be so obvious. The entire ballroom saw you two sneak out.”

As Jin turned to leave, Kaito let out a groan, burying his face in his hands. “I’m never going to hear the end of this…”

But when you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, he couldn’t help but smile.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

could not foresee lying beside you

Another fic for the little mundane au! Huge thanks to @minky-for-short for the idea behind this fic and putting up with my current obsession.

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

----

Jon has a very awkward conversation with Sasha that leads to a very good evening with his boyfriend Martin.

Note: contains sex favourable ace jon

-----

Jon had always thought he maintained a certain level of professionalism in the Archives. 

His department may have been the smallest, the least funded and, if the way the other department heads reacted to him was any indicator, the least liked out of the whole institute. But, as long as he was in charge, their professionalism would never be called into question. The work they did would always come first. 

Jon had always thought that. But things had changed lately and, to no one’s surprise more than his own, he was changing with them.

But old habits clearly died pretty hard. Which was his excuse for why he’d been hovering awkwardly in the break room, trying and failing to steer his conversation with Sasha in the right direction for most of lunch. 

Fortunately, Sasha had clearly worked with him long enough to not notice when Jon was being a few degrees more awkward than usual. She was well practised at keeping the conversation going with no input from him beyond stammerings and far off, distracted gazes. 

“So Eddie is swearing blind that this mirror was sent to storage but I checked twice and, if it’s there, the damn thing is supernatural enough to turn invisible!” she stirred her coffee with an irritated clatter, “Or grow legs and walk away. Neither of which were mentioned in the statement, just a lot of blood.”

“And the emaciated version of yourself for a reflection,” Jon mumbled vaguely, tapping his fingers on the wobbly little table they all had to squeeze around.

“Yeah, that too,” Sasha nodded, “My point is, that place has gone really downhill since I transferred…anyway, we’ve got five minutes left of lunch. So are you going to ask me whatever you’re chewing over or what?”

It took Jon a minute to realise what she’d said, his face realising first and taking the liberty of blushing darkly even before he could groan, “Am I being that obvious?”

Sasha smiled, tilting her head, “Not really. I’ve just gotten to know you pretty well.”

Not all that long ago, her saying that would make Jon squirm, feel like he’d been pinned under the glare of a microscope, like he was failing as a boss if his team saw him as a human being. But, again, things had changed. 

Jon swallowed hard, trying to poke nonchalantly at his salad like he hadn’t rehearsed these words until they’d worn thin, “Listen. This is me speaking as something other than your boss, okay?” 

“So…as my friend?” Sasha prompted him, with the patient smile you’d give a child. 

“Right,” Jon cleared his throat, “Um…so you know I’m with Martin…”

“Yes, I realised when you two snuck off from my wedding reception to hook up,” Sasha smirked.

Jon couldn’t help spluttering just a little, “We weren’t together together then…I had another month or so of being an obtuse asshole to get through…”

Sasha’s voice softened, turned kinder, “And you worked on yourself and now you’re both very happy together, the way you were always meant to be. So what’s the problem?”

“Me. As per usual,” Jon’s laugh didn’t sound completely convincing, not even to him, “It’s been a long time since I was in a relationship and I’ve never been in one where I wasn’t a total wreck. I’m realizing there’s a lot of Relationship 101 classes I missed somewhere along the way.”

Sasha tilted her head, her smile turning gentle in a way that managed not to be pitying, “That’s not you being a problem, Jon. There’s no time limit on this kind of thing, you can borrow my notes any time you like.”

Jon wondered if she’d end up regretting those words somewhere in the next ten seconds, as he realised he’d hit the point where he had to just cough it up and get it over with.

“I don’t…” he waved his fork vaguely in the air, “I don’t know how to go about initiating…y’know. Sex?”

There was a beat of silence as Sasha absorbed that. Jon wondered if she was comparing  him to the first version of Jonathan Sims she’d met, the one with the constant tremor in his hands and his too tight ties and short hair, if she was trying to imagine that Jonathan asking her about her weekend, let alone anything that involved taking off clothes. 

From the way she grinned, Jon thought she might prefer the version sat in front of her a little more, even if his hair was already falling out of its bun less than halfway through the day and he was drowning in a jumper Martin had knitted for him rather than a suit. Jon rather thought he preferred this version too. 

“Oh so it’s one of those questions, huh?” Sasha beamed, leaning forward with a new bright eyed energy that was only slightly terrifying, “This is so fun, I never got to play the cool big sister…”

“Ninety percent sure I’m older than you,” Jon rolled his eyes but her smile was infectious, he felt one pulling at his own mouth as he sat back and braced himself. 

“It’s a spiritual thing, Jon, don’t take this away from me,” Sasha waved her hand airily, “Okay. So you want to be straightforward about it? You want to flirt a little, make it a surprise, what are we looking for?”

Jon fidgeted with his glasses, pushing them up his nose, “I mean…I want to ask Martin if he’d like to have sex with me without sounding like a robot that was programmed to make people uncomfortable?”

Sasha chuckled, though not unkindly, “I mean, it’s always going to be a little uncomfortable, Jon. That's not something you can fix, it’s just something you learn to embrace and so do they.”

“I’m…starting to see that,” Jon nodded slowly, trying to chase down the feeling in his chest, pin it down clumsily with words, “I’m not used to wanting this. Wanting to be with someone like that, to make someone look at me in that way. I still don’t want sex the same way other people want it, I’ve sorted out that much. But I want it with Martin.”

“And how do you ask for something you’ve never wanted before?” Sasha nodded, sympathetic, “I hear what you’re saying, Jon.”

It was strange how such a simple thing, something most people never had to question, could mean so much to him. He supposed that's what came of actually choosing to speak, to ask. 

“Thank you, Sasha,” he smiled at his friend, sitting up a little, “So…how do I go about this?”

Sasha grinned, “Oh that’s easy. You have some fun with it.”

-

Jon thought he was doing pretty well. He’d only texted Sasha are you sure about this three times since Martin had left to go to the shops.

His latest message received the same answer as the first two, equally as patient and equally as reassuring. 

Trust me! As long as ur comfortable with it, he’ll <3 it

Jon looked at himself in the mirror again, trying to find something there that Martin would love. He sighed, picking up his phone again after he promised himself he wouldn’t.

And this worked on Tim?

A few moments of a reply bubble. 

He got a speeding fine driving home after I sent him pics of me in that pink shirt he has

Jon’s eyebrows shot up. That pink Hawaiian shirt was objectively hideous. 

Point taken. 

An older version of him would put the phone down then, nothing more to say. But he knew better now. 

Thank you for this, Sasha. 

He somehow heard her smile in the reply that pinged through. 

Don’t thank me yet. Gonna demand some details on Mon as tax. have fun boss!

Jon rolled his eyes, setting his phone down for good now. Martin would be back soon, allowing for how many of their neighbours he stopped to talk to on the way and if any of them were walking dogs he could fuss over. He gave himself a last look over in the mirror, not that anything would be different. 

He’d spent a long time choosing the right jumper out of the many Martin owned. He’d wanted one in green after his boyfriend said the colour brought out his eyes, an offhand comment from months ago but it had snagged in Jon’s mind. He’d wanted one of the larger ones so he didn’t freeze but not so large it didn’t skate the edge of his thighs and slide down off one shoulder in a way he thought- hoped- was sexy. He’d wanted his hair loose, lying across his shoulders in the way that had always been an invitation for Martin to run his fingers through it. 

Jon had planned out everything, this was exactly what he’d been picturing in his head in the hours since he talked to Sasha. And he still thought he looked a little ridiculous. 

But now his reflection wore a soft smile, a little shy, a little uncertain but it was there. It was still hard to believe there was anything in the mirror that Martin would love but Jon did see something he wanted to give him. And that felt good.

A creaking floorboard somewhere out in the hallway sent him scrambling for the sofa. Damn it, he’d been counting on Mrs Nowack and Biscuit keeping Martin occupied for at least ten minutes, she must have had somewhere to be. He had just enough time to arrange himself in a vaguely casual position against the cushions, one leg up, the hem of the jumper sitting just right, before he heard the front door to their flat open. 

“Jon? I’m back,” Martin’s voice was a little winded from the long climb up the stairs but it still had that bright smile in it, “They had that mango juice you like!”

Jon chuckled softly as he heard shopping bags hitting the floor, Martin shrugged off his anorak, boots being kicked off, “Nice…I’ll put it all away, just leave it there.”

“What? No, no, I’m already on my feet,” Martin’s voice moved, going towards the kitchen, “You stay comfy, I’ll put the kettle on…”

Jon struggled not to laugh, he hadn’t accounted for this, for being tripped up by his boyfriend’s implacable politeness. He tried to figure out how he could coax Martin into the living room without being obvious, while their ancient kettle rattled and wheezed towards boiling point and the man he was trying to seduce whistled as he put away the shopping. He should have just sent a picture. Or maybe an embossed invitation. Skywriting, possibly?

Though, Jon had to admit, there was a distinct satisfaction as Martin walked in, saw his boyfriend sprawled on the sofa in nothing but one of his own jumpers, and dropped two full mugs of tea on the floor. 

“I’ll clean that up later,” Jon grinned, watching the heat rise in Martin’s face, “Do you…do you like it?”

“I…I…you…you’re so…” Martin’s jaw worked but his brain clearly wasn’t, his eyes wide like they wanted to take in every inch of Jon. 

“Thank you,” Jon shifted onto his knees, rather enjoying the way the fabric pulled higher on his leg and Martin’s eyes snapped to it like a cat watching prey, “I wanted to surprise you.”

Martin swallowed hard, like his mouth was dry, “Do you…I mean…can I…do you want…”

“Very much so,” Jon purred, freeing one hand enough to beckon him, “Come here, darling.”

“Oh thank god,” Martin groaned, rushing forward and sweeping him into a kiss that told Jon he’d done a very, very good job. 

The moment their lips met, Jon realised he had what he wanted, even if he couldn’t put a name to it. This closeness, this warmth, all the emotion he didn’t have words for expressed physically instead. He could never say what Martin meant to him, he couldn’t ever thank him for the way he took the parts of Jon that were broken and malformed and sharp and pressed them close without fear. 

But he could kiss him. He could root his fingers in those loose red curls, he could part his legs and make room for him between them, he could moan softly as their tongues brushed each other. And Martin would just know. 

“I can’t believe you did this for me…” his words were breathless, coming between a smile and hungry kisses that trailed down Jon’s neck, to where the jumper revealed his collarbone.

Jon’s words came out shaky as Martin’s leg pressed between his own, his nerves sparking at the contact, “Wanted to make it clear...wanted…fuck, Martin, I wanted you…”

Martin drew back, an expression softened with a heartbreaking mix of disbelief and joy. An expression that told Jon he’d never expected to be here, holding him and hearing those words, believing them, “You have me. You always have me.”

So Jon gave him no doubt, rolling his hips against him, sliding his hands down and under Martin’s shirt, across the warmth of his skin, “I love you…”

“I love you too,” Martin helped him pull off his shirt, sending it to the floor, his jeans and boxers pushed down enough that Jon could wrap a hand around his cock. 

Jon pulled back, eyes travelling across Martin’s body. He’d always felt the need to study the things he felt drawn to, to tag and categorise and collate until he understood them down to the last atom. Martin was no different. Jon found himself making an index of every little detail that made his heart beat faster and the muscles low in his stomach twist, Harvard references to the desire racing through him. 

Freckles, face. Freckles, shoulders, collarbone, like someone had taken a paintbrush full of ochre and flicked it at him. Stomach, soft, rounded, perfect to rest on. Hair, soft to touch, heavily dusting his chest and running down his stomach, between his legs. Cock, thick, heavy enough in his palm to make his wrist ache, slick warmth running between his fingers. Noises, moans. Noises, gasps. Noises, fuck, Jon... 

He guided Martin’s cock between his legs until he felt him press against where Jon was so hot and wet it felt like he was melting. Like their bodies would just run together like candle wax, into one whole and they’d never have to be apart again. 

“Easy, Jon…” Martin’s voice was tight, trembling like a plucked violin string, “Don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t,” Jon’s voice came out a raw moan, halfway to a growl, his heels pressing into Martin’s back, urging him forward.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Martin was a big guy in every sense of the word, there was a bite, a stretch his body wasn’t used to and cried out at. But the word pain implied something bad, something he didn’t want. That burn meant Martin was sharing his body and, right now, he wanted that more than he wanted air in his lungs. 

“Fuck, Jon, darling…” Martin groaned, his face pressed to the side of his neck, one hand wrapped around his waist, the other braced on the arm of the sofa behind him. 

Jon panted heavily, waiting until enough of him broke the surface to think again, to form words, “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Take me.”

More references, more data points rolled in as Martin shifted his weight to his knees, leveraging enough to rock into Jon. Arms, strong, enough to make him feel small in the best way. Scent, warm, amber, heady. Muscles, deceptively hidden under layers of softness but the feel of them tensing, relaxing, tensing was intoxicating. Stubble, rough in the best way as it scratched his shoulder. So many things thrilling Jon, leaving him utterly helpless to his most base instincts, so many things that made up his Martin. 

“More, Martin, fuck, faster…” he begged breathlessly, digging his fingers into his boyfriend’s shoulders so tight there would be marks in the morning.

“I got you, Jon…”

Martin was already thrusting so hard the sofa was creaking dangerously but, just because Jon had asked it of him, he found a way to go harder, faster, hitting Jon’s sweet spot every single time like his whole purpose for existing had become giving him pleasure. It gave what was coming the inevitability of a law of physics, something comfortingly certain, something Jon knew couldn’t be taken away from him. 

“Martin, darling, I…I think…” his voice broke, words unravelling, dissipating when he tried to grasp for them.

“I know,” Martin gasped, voice raw, “I’m with you, Jon, I’m with you, let go…”

It hit Jon with the force of a wave, shattering his control and leaving him reeling. It could have burned up into panic so quickly but Martin was there, heat flooding into him as he came with a soft, sweet cry. There was a long moment of ringing tension that hung like a droplet of water before falling, breaking, and suddenly Jon was back in his body. 

His laugh was half a gasp as Martin collapsed on top of him, the two of them left giggling like teenagers. 

“God, sorry…” Martin panted softly, grinning, trying to shift off of him.

But Jon held on tightly, nuzzling against his shoulder, “Don’t you dare, Martin Blackwood.”

Martin grinned, fingers trailing across the sleeve of the jumper that was now rucked up just underneath Jon’s chest, after their activities it looked like he was going to have to return it in a far worse state than he found it. It seemed like he’d be forgiven, though. 

“Good to know my first attempt at seduction was a success,” Jon smiled, combing back Martin’s curls where they’d stuck to his forehead. 

“Your first huh? Could have fooled me,” Martin snorted, leaning into his touch gratefully, “Where did you even get the idea for this, what on earth possessed you?”

Jon opened his mouth and closed it again before his smile turned slightly coy, “Um, might not be a conversation you want to have while you’re still, y’know, inside me…incidentally, if Sasha looks at you weird on Monday, don’t worry about it.”

Martin, to his credit, managed a whole two seconds before he burst out laughing, which was more than Jon had expected from him. He just had to cling to him, grinning and kissing him until he had no choice but to shut up. 

“You are so adorable,” Martin gently extracted himself from Jon, sitting back and letting his boyfriend pillow his head on his chest, “What happened to the Mr Sims who insisted on strict professionalism on Archive property?”

Jon rolled his eyes at the poor impression, though he couldn’t help smiling at the answer that rose to his lips as he reached up to kiss him softly. 

“You happened.”