#I’m just going to wait and see what happens

[neontiger]

breakfast downtown

♡ MDNI 18+

♡ Jason Todd x fem!reader

♡ Bad week at work? Don't worry, princess. You can take your frustrations out on Jay. He's a big boy, he can handle it. Maybe. Smut served with a side of angst.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A scream bubbles in your gut as glass crashes to the floor into a million pieces. Maybe the stars were out of alignment, or mercury was in retrograde, or some other bullshit – something to explain the absolute mess of a week you’d had. Maybe you’d done something wrong, pissed somebody off, and they’d put a curse on you.

That guy on Tuesday, the one in your section at table three, the one who’d flirted with you relentlessly and then called you a bitch when you turned him down. Maybe he’d fucked up your week. It certainly had thrown you off-balance enough that by Friday night you were demanding Saturday off because you couldn’t take it anymore. Thankfully you had sick days saved up.

The elevator is still out of order, and you have to make the hike up three flights of stairs. A normal week that would be fine, but tonight each step sounds like echoes of bullshit. You wonder if Jason will be waiting or if he’s already gone for the night.

That pisses you off too. He’s always running away. You’ve never spent an entire night together – no, that would be asking too much of somebody who thinks of themself as some sort of savior of a city that could not give less of a shit about him. He’s like a goddamn cat, coming and going as he pleases, with a set of morals to match. What are you to him? Is your apartment some sort of fucking safe house?

What the fuck is he planning with you? Is he even planning anything, or is he just here to get his dick sucked?

You forget to remind yourself to rein it in before you shove open the door to your apartment. The first thing you see is Jason’s mask on your kitchen counter next to a sink full of dishes. Your bag drops to the floor with a loud thud.

Jason gets up from the couch. He’s half in his uniform; the leather jacket is thrown over the back of the couch along with the multitude of holsters. He walks up like nothing in the world is wrong and leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head. His lips land on the corner of your mouth. He grips your chin in gloved hands and turns you back to him to steal the kiss you don’t want to give.

“Stop.” You shove his hand down.

“What’s wrong?” Judging blue-green eyes look you up and down underneath a furrowed brow and a curl of white. You roll your eyes and push past him, not bothering to be pleasant when your shoulder meets his arm.

He doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t reach out. Just stands there, staring at you as you head to the wardrobe by your bed and rip out clothes to wear.

He takes a few steps and stops by the kitchen counter. There’s no space to hide in the studio apartment except the bathroom, so you gather your clothes to take them in there to change. He blocks your path. “What’s wrong?” He asks, again. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened.” You could cut skin with the sharpness in your tone. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Here, I think,” he says. “If you don’t want to talk –”

“I don’t,” you snap. “I’m tired and I want to go to bed, so can you get out of the way and go do your stupid – whatever it is you fucking do, Jason!”

That’s not how you meant for it to come out, but you don’t come to that realization until too late – by then his eyes are narrowed with hurt and his fists are clenched at his sides, his mouth closed tightly, his feet taking a step back for you to move past. You don’t, not right away, frozen with the fear in your gut that you just fucked up something.

Jason lifts his hand, gestures for you to walk. It hurts your entire body to take that step.

You watch from the bathroom door as he clips on his holsters. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He nods, pulls on his jacket. “Okay.”

Okay is a brick to the head. You watch him put on the mask, and the Jason you know disappears. The Red Hood looks at you for a moment before leaving through the fire escape. You fucked up.

─── ⋆⋅❤︎⋅⋆ ───

Sleep doesn’t come until the sun does. You spent the night waiting for Jason to return, but he never does, and you fall asleep with tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes just as the morning light is peeking through your window. Hours later, after nightmares that have nothing to do with him, you wake up to the smell of coffee wafting through your apartment, and the sounds of the street below – cars honking, people talking and laughing. Music plays from somewhere and knocks on your skull, furthering the birth of a headache.

“Good morning,” Jason says dully.

You sit up halfway and frown at him in the armchair by the window. He’s out of uniform, now in a black tank top and a pair of black sweats. You want to admire his arms and chest, the muscles and the scars that mark him, tell his story…but you can’t, not now. There’s a new injury, still red and raw, on the knuckles of his right hand.

There’s also a tray of food on your nightstand, where the coffee you smelled in your sleep sits next to a plate of french toast and a bowl of berries sprinkled with sugar. You glance at it.

Jason frowns. “Or, good afternoon. Sleep bad?”

You sit up more, pulling your knees in. “Yeah. I’m sorry,” you say, voice breaking. “I’m really – I didn’t mean it, Jay. I’m really sorry.”

He nods. “I think you meant it.”

You bite your tongue, but it does nothing to stop the tears that bubble at the corners of your eyes. You shake your head, and open your mouth to say no, you didn’t, that you were just angry at everything in that moment, but he speaks first.

“It’s okay.” Jason runs a finger absentmindedly over his injured knuckles as his gaze remains on you. “I figure it’s not easy. I didn’t think we’d get this far, honestly. I thought you’d be tired of me.”

“I’m not,” you rush out with a choke.

He nods again. You’re beginning to hate that, but you say nothing, instead squeezing the fabric of your blanket to hold back your fears. “Are you sure? It’s okay if you are. We can…” His voice trails off and his gaze drops away from you to the floor. “Stop here, if you want. It might be better for you.”

“No.” You sound like a toy with a broken squeaker. You swallow, clear your throat, fight the tremble in your body to repeat the words, firmer and more sure. “No. I don’t want to stop here.”

Jason’s eyes jump back up to meet yours. “Are you sure?”

“Very. I'm sorry,” you say, more confident now as his gaze softens. “I didn't mean it, Jay, really. I've just…it's been a shitty week. I didn't mean to take it out on you.”

“Oh.” Surprise flashed over his face. “Next time just tell me. I can help you…with your frustrations.”

The breakfast he brought sits at the back of your mind. You don't think that's what he meant, not with the way his mouth curls around his final words. “Where'd you get breakfast?” You ask.

“That place downtown. Remember the one on the water we went to last month?”

“You went all the way downtown to get me breakfast?” A soft laugh escapes your lips, something you didn't think possible moments ago. Then it hits you. “Did you think I was mad at you?”

Jason stands up suddenly and stops by the bed, towering over you and blotting out the sun with his broad frame. The weight of the morning seems to lift from your shoulders at the delicious sight of him, and you can finally take him in as he deserves, dragging your eyes down from the scar on his cheek to his body, muscle rippling under tanned skin. The autopsy scar cuts across his chest and dips under the dark fabric of his fitted tank. You stop short of the waistband of his sweats and wrench your eyes back up. The ache between your thighs demands otherwise, however.

“I guess I should make it up to you. Last night.” You run your fingers lightly down his arm, tracing over a vein that runs down his forearm, until you reach his hand. You take it in yours and press your lips just above his knuckles. ‘What would you like?”

Jason smirks. “I was thinking the opposite. Gonna take care of you, get your mind off whatever's pissing you off.”

You blink up at him. “What? No. I was…I was mean. I should –”

His large hand keeps you in place as it grips your cheeks and his mouth crashes on yours, silencing any protest you might have had left. Spit connects your lips as he breaks from you. “Lay down,” he orders, breath hot on your skin.

You throw yourself back onto the pillows. Jason grins, a dark look in his eyes, one you've come to know well. You've wondered before if it's the same look he gets when he's on the streets at night, but you hope not.

“Uh-uh, princess. On your stomach.”

You roll onto your belly without second thought, sticking your ass in the air for him. Your attire is far from sexy, an oversized shirt (Jason's) and a pair of pajama bottoms that hang off your hips, but he quickly remedies that problem by tugging off your shirt before pulling down your pants, leaving you in nothing but gray cotton panties. He snaps the band once before slipping them down your ass and legs.

If he was being honest, he'd admit this was his favorite view, you ass up, face down, pussy already slick with arousal. Yeah, he likes all versions of you, but this one hits him differently, twisting his stomach into anxious knots and rushing all blood to his cock. He strains against his sweats, has to fight the urge to stuff you full of him this very second.

Jason swallows. “Keep that ass up,” he instructs, lifting off his own shirt now. You bite your bottom lip, savoring the reveal of his upper body. He places a knee on the edge of the bed and moves out of view, positioning himself behind you.

“You want to tell me…” His breath brushes over your slit, hot and cold at the same time. “What happened? Why are you so upset?” He blows gently on your clit, sending a shock through your body. You push back in an attempt to connect with his mouth but he pulls away.

“It’s stupid…it’s not – ah…” Cheek pressed into the pillow, your gasp is still audible enough to motivate his tongue, causing it to dart out from his lips to flick your clit again. His hands keep you in place with a solid grasp on the back of your thighs, preventing you from trying once more to quicken his pace.

Another lick, this one longer, slicking up through your folds. Your eyelids flutter, mouth suspended in a moan against the flower-patterned pillowcase. In an effort to keep still, you squeeze the life out of the pillow as your core burns with impatience.

This time Jason’s tongue presses inside, deep enough you feel the tip of his nose against your slit. One hand lets go of your thigh so he can press the pad of his thumb to your clit, making small, teasing circles. His tongue retreats and you nearly cry. “If it’s stupid, then why take it out on me?”

The question ruins the work he’s doing. Your cheeks flush red, guilt bubbling in your stomach. “I shouldn’t have,” you say. “The week – rough mm –”

His tongue shoves back inside your heat as he works his thumb with more sincerity, clearly seeking to see you undone. Your body trembles in his grip and the fight to keep still and not shove your whole cunt in his face starts to feel impossible. His hand brushes up your thigh to cup your ass, lifting you higher for him. “Make you feel better,” he whispers, the words vibrating against your pussy. “You want that? Kiss away your problems.”

You mumble against the pillow. “Uh-huh…I want…”

Jason runs a finger through your folds, teasing the entrance with the thick digit, and lowers his lips to capture your swollen clit in them. “Mm. What do you want, princess?”

“Jay.” At the moment you want to kick him, make him stop teasing with his fingers threatening to sink inside your heat but never making the connection, his lips brushing your clit, every word a jolt that doesn’t complete. You whine, squirming in his grip. He tightens his hold on you in response and pulls his mouth away from your cunt completely…to bite you on the fat of your ass.

You cry out, jerk your head around to glare at him. “What the fuck, Jason?”

Jason smirks, kissing the same spot. Heat emanates from the mark left behind by his teeth, a pulsating type of warmth that echoes in your core. It felt…good, maybe. But you don't want him to know.

“What do you want?” He repeats the question with his lips pressing your ass again, teeth scraping the skin like a threat.

He always does this – wants you to say it. Exposed as you are, arousal dripping down your thighs in his face, you still find it difficult to get the words out. Clothes on, maybe you've got an attitude – last night proved that completely – but like this, under him? You whine into the pillow. All that does is get him to sink his teeth into your soft flesh again, this time the back of your thigh. Your walls clench desperately around nothing.

“Want you to fuck me,” you mumble, whiny and feeling hot.

The tip of his finger presses inside your slit. You inhale, forget to exhale, as he takes his time sinking into you. “Like this?” He drags his finger almost out. You tighten around the digit instinctively, refusing to let go even though it's not exactly what you're looking for. This ache cries for something bigger, deeper.

Jason adds a second finger and scissors them in your cunt, stretching you out. His other fingers pinch your clit lightly. “So wet,” he whispers, almost too low for you to hear. “For me. All this…huh…”

You try to glance back, realizing he is talking to himself. He mumbles against your cunt words you can't make out, and fuck if it doesn't stoke the fire in your belly, the way his lips wrap your clit with intent, fingers fucking into you slowly, coiling you tight. He moans as he sucks. You watch him through clouded eyes, his free hand palming the front of his sweats, his cock in desperate need of some friction.

“Jay, please,” you whisper. Why is your voice breaking? “Fuck me now. I’m sorry.”

He pulls his fingers free, leaving you empty, and runs both hands up your thighs to your lower back as he gets up on his knees. The touch continues up your spine and guides you to flatten on the bed with your thighs pressed together, your skin soaked. He leans to whisper in your ear. “I know. It’s okay.” He sighs, and presses his lips to your neck. “You scared me. I’ve never…” He laughs softly, shifting above you as he pushes down his sweatpants. The bed shifts but he keeps you in place, sits on the back of your thighs, and kisses your cheek. “Never been scared like that.”

You twist to look up at him but can barely turn halfway with his weight holding you down. “I won’t do it again. Promise,” you say.

Jason says nothing. There’s no smile on his lips, but a tender look in his eyes remains locked on your face. He swallows. “I…” His mouth hangs open, a thought just on the tip of his tongue that doesn’t complete. Lips move, but nothing comes out.

“What?” You run your fingers up his arm, his hands on either side of you the only piece you can comfortably reach.

He exhales shakily. “I…uh, you’re beautiful.” He wets his lips before leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Gorgeous. Can’t wait to make you a fucking mess.”

You roll your eyes. Jason straightens up and places a hand on your lower back as the other grips his cock. The tip nudges your entrance, and you arch and lift as best you can to urge him on. He fills you achingly slow, spreading you open and stealing your breath until he bottoms out. His hips sit flush against your ass as he gathers your hair in one fist, tugging it gently out of the way for him to press his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck.

His teeth sink in – this time there isn’t an ounce of protest in your cry and your walls clench around him as he leaves his mark. His hips pull back and snap forward roughly, slamming the head of his cock into your cervix. You grab onto his hand where it fists the mattress for stability as he repeats the move. He flattens his hand and laces his fingers through yours.

The bed creaks underneath you, the headboard smacking the wall almost as loud as the sound of skin meeting skin and the squelch of your needy cunt. Jason fucks a quick rhythm, hardly pulling out enough and never leaving you empty, like he can't stand the feeling of being apart from you right now. Neither can you, your walls clenching around his cock every slight draw backwards, slick coating his length. You squirm, make small circles with your hips that pull groans deep from his throat.

“Fuck yes,” Jason pants, pulling on your hair and lifting your head from the pillow. He watches where his cock is sucked into your greedy hole, mesmerized with how well you take him, how you can't keep still because you need him that bad. “That's good, baby…don't stop. That's a good girl…” He leans forward for another taste, biting into your shoulder as his pace shortens, thrusts becoming animalistic and hard.

Your lungs constrict, hardly able to suck down air from his weight on you, and moving becomes impossible. He jerks on your hair to expose your neck further to him and give his teeth purchase on your throat. Your hand almost breaks from his – would have, if he doesn't tighten his hand around yours the moment he feels you try to pull away. His cock grinds against your cervix with overwhelming pressure. You squeeze your eyes shut, crying out with pleasure. Another sink of his teeth in your neck has your legs trembling as the orgasm rocks your body, release dripping from your swollen cunt to soak your thighs and the sheets.

Jason grunts close to your ear. “Close, baby – fuck.” Lips press your cheek. His breath burns your already feverish skin. His words are strained, caught between heavy breaths. “Where…do you want – ahh – want me? Tell me, baby.”

“Inside,” you choke out. The single word is a spell that undoes him. His body shudders under climax, cock desperate to press as deep inside you as possible as he comes. Inside your core it's hot, close to burning, as you clench around his twitching length. You can feel it, his release coating your walls, overflowing to drip down and mix with your fluids on the bed.

Jason rests his head on the pillow next to yours. Your hands, palms sweaty, remain tangled together, but you make no effort to pull them apart now. Instead you let your eyes close as you relish in the full feeling of him still inside you. Gradually his cock softens but stays snug, and you could almost fall asleep like this…if it wasn't for the need to breathe.

Jason, on the other hand, seems to have gotten too comfortable. He snores softly next to your ear, and you almost feel guilty jostling him awake. “Jay. Jay, can't breathe.”

He groans as he lifts himself, cock slipping free at last with a soft plop that reddens your cheeks. You startle as you feel his fingers brush your sore slit. He mumbles to himself.

“Stop,” you say, shivering. Not that you don't want it, but…you feel too exposed like this, knowing he's devouring you with his eyes, taking in the mess he's made.

Jason leans to kiss your cheek. “Sorry. Let me get you cleaned up.”

“No.” It comes out so fast, surprising both of you. You turn onto your back, self-conscious of the dripping down your ass when you do. “It's fine. I'll take a shower later. Just lay down for now.”

The bed shifts as he collapses next to you, pulling you into his arms. You nuzzle his chest and find his heart beat, still fast, not yet come down completely. His fingers make lazy circles on your arm. You want to sleep, but any thought of it seems to have faded, and all you can think about now is staying in this moment.

“Do you work tonight?” Jason asks.

“No.” You match his circles with traces of your own, going over the scars on his chest with light fingertips. “I took a sick day. Go back in Tuesday.”

He inhales deep and sighs, rolling you with the motion. “I won't go out tonight,” he says. “There's nothing…important. I'll stay here, if that's okay with you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that's alright.” You prop your chin on his chest to look up at his face. His smile is soft, dreamlike. “Where do you live anyway?”

Jason shrugs a shoulder. “I've got a couple places.”

“Oh, really? Is one of them, like, an abandoned warehouse? A cardboard box under a bridge?”

He laughs. “You think I'm homeless?”

You hadn't really thought about it before, but the signs are there. “You always shower here. Your clothes are here, your toothbrush, and I've never seen your place…you just appear out of nowhere. I mean, shoe fits.”

“I like it better here,” he says.

“Then why not stay?”

He shrugs again, but this time it's almost sheepish the way he glances away, like he can't look at you. “Stay,” you say, before he can object, find some excuse. “I mean it. Move in with me. You pretty much live here anyway.”

Jason reaches to the tray on the nightstand and picks up the cup. He takes a sip and frowns before replacing it on the tray. “Coffee's cold. Let me up so I can make a new pot.” He starts to sit up, pulling his arm away and letting you fall softly to the pillow.

You stare at his scarred back as he tugs on his sweats again. “Jason, we're talking.”

He shakes his head. “Later. I have to think about it.”

Maybe an hour ago he was upset because you hadn't talked to him, hadn't told him what was wrong. He'd been scared. And now you can only stare at him in the kitchen, scooping coffee grounds into a thrift store coffee maker. You don't reach out. You don't know what you're supposed to say.

You say nothing. A scream bubbles in your gut but goes nowhere.

[plutoslastwords]

I see lando as a single dad too and I was wondering if you’d ever write daughter!reader when she’s a teenager and is going through, well her first menstrual cycle and he’s so completely lost lol

shark week

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: lando has no idea how a woman's body works, baby norris doesn't listen in health class. the outcome? chaos.

warnings: your first period?

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i know that it may be unrealistic that a 12 year old would have never heard of a period but idc. it works in the story. sorry for being so mia!! school is terrible atm 😩😩 love you all!! promise i am working on the requests xx

~~~

Going to high school in Monaco was not fun at the best of times.

Everyone says that surely it must be great! It’s Monaco! But when you don’t speak the language fluently - though you have got quite good after living there for 12 years of your life - and have just transferred to a new secondary school where you know no one, life isn’t great. 

Everyone in Monaco has one or two parents who are rich and famous in some way, meaning you can’t even pull the famous dad card to get yourself some friends. You’re stuck sitting alone at lunch, and being picked last for every team.

Lando hates it. He hates it so so much. He doesn't think he can stand seeing his baby coming home sad every afternoon, and he hates how sometimes he can’t be there to comfort you when life is feeling especially tough. He’s debated many a time just sending you to a boarding school back in England, where at least you could speak the same language as the kids there, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to cope with being apart from you for that much of the year.

Therefore, both you and your dad just have to cope with the unfortunate situations, hoping and wishing that soon enough you’ll find your own feet and make some friends. 

Back to the fact that school in Monaco isn’t great on the best days, school in Monaco is absolute hell on the worst days.

On this particular day, you were sitting in Maths class, your least favourite, how were you meant to be able to understand maths in French when you didn’t even understand it in English. It was whilst the teacher was going on about something to do with algebra that you decided that you’d had enough, you put your hand up and quickly asked to go to the bathroom, you weren’t bothered about this anymore.

You took your normal long route around school to get to the bathrooms, having no intention of going back to your maths class anytime soon. You finally get to the bathrooms and it is there that you learn that you’re going to die.

You know that it is not normal to have blood in your pants. It can’t be normal. You must be dying. You sit there in shock for a moment, before starting to hyperventilate and presume the worst. 

When looking back, Lando knows that it is probably his fault that you got yourself into this situation. You never really listened in your Health classes, as they were all in French, and so it was probably his responsibility to educate you on what was going to happen at a certain point, but he’s still just a young guy, that was not top of his list of what he wanted to talk to his preteen daughter about!

You sit in the bathroom stall sobbing and shaking, surely this is the end, you were practically waiting for the Grim Reaper himself to come and pluck you away. In your disorientated mind the only thing that you can think to do is call Lando.

“Daddy I’m dying!” You bawl into the phone, the words barely coming out through your intense sobs.

Immediately Lando drops everything he was doing, freezing at your distressed tone, his mind going straight to the worst. “Baby?!? What’s going on, are you okay?!?” He practically shouts down the phone.

“No!!” You sob, “I’m dying!!!! Daddy please pick me up I-” You don’t finish your sentence because enough intense sob comes in the way and you fall back into hysterically crying.

Lando doesn’t even think twice before leaping up from his desk and rushing to grab his car keys. “I’m on my way, my angel, you’re gonna be okay, daddy’s gonna look after you.” He tries to soothe, but the worry in his voice is evident. 

When he arrives you’re still a sobbing mess, but you have to drag your tear stained body out of the cubicle and to the front office in order to be dismissed. When you see Lando you immediately jump into his arms, sobs wracking your body.

“Oh darling…”  He says, brokenly, he hates seeing you like this, “What’s happened, my love?” 

You don’t respond, too distressed, he seems to get the message and manoeuvres you to the car, where he drives home as quick as he can, to get you someplace familiar, hoping that that will soothe you slightly.

It works, partially. By the time that you’re home your sobbing has lessened, but you’re still nowhere near stable, still almost shaking with the fear that you’re feeling. Lando sits you down on the sofa with a glass of water, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I’m dying!! I’m bleeding and I’m dying!” You sniffle.

Suddenly everything clicks for Lando and then his mind goes completely blank. Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. He was not ready for this day, not ready whatsoever. 

“I-uhm-oh.” He stutters, not knowing what to say. “Y-you’re not dying, sweetheart, okay?”

“Yes I am!!! I’m dying!!!”

He has no idea what to do. He was hoping he had a year or two left before today came, but apparently luck was not on his side. He sits there, staring blankly at you, as you continue to cry. 

“Baby, I promise you you’re not dying, why don’t you go change your clothes and I’ll come up to your room in a sec and we’ll chat, okay?”

You shuffle to your room, still sobbing but if you’re dad seems so confident that you’re okay, then surely that means something…?

Lando paces around in a panic downstairs, waiting for his sister to answer the damn phone. There is no way that he can be doing this with no help.

After a horrible phone call, with a lot of him being laughed at by his sister for having a 12 year old daughter and still knowing fuck all about the menstrual cycle, he feels more prepared to actually talk to you.

You’re sitting in your bed, covered in blankets and watching a movie when he knocks at your door.

“Darling, can I come in?” 

You hum in response, tired from all of the sobbing and therefore not bothered to actually speak. He enters, with a shopping bag in his hand.

“How're you feeling, my angel?”

You shrug, curling up smaller in your blanket ball.

“Oh, baby, you’re okay, I promise, it’s all natural, okay?”

“Doesn’t feel natural…”

“It’s your period, angel. It’s your body getting ready for pregnancy”

You pull a face of absolute horror at that, “I’m pregnant?!??!”

His eyes widen and he backtracks immediately “No, no, no, no, you’re not pregnant, absolutely not.” He shudders at the thought, “It’s just so that maybe, at some point in the future, if you do get pregnant, your body is gonna be prepared…”

“So I’m gonna bleed until I get pregnant?”

“No, no, just for a couple days every month…”

“For how long?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure about that… like until your 40? I don’t know…”

“40?!??!?! I don’t want to bleed every month until I’m 40!!!!”

“I know, baby, but it’s just something that all women have to go through, it’s just a natural part of life, you’ll learn to cope with it…”

You pause, taking in his words, before eventually nodding in understanding, but that doesn’t mean that you’re done talking, much to Lando’s dismay, who’d quite like to get this conversation over and done with.

“So why do I need to bleed to be ready for pregnancy?” You question.

Lando knows this one, he practised it on the phone with his sister, “It’s the wall of your uterus shedding-”

“Ew.”

“Because your body got itself ready to be pregnant, and then obviously the egg was never fertilised.”

“So if I did get pregnant then I wouldn’t get my period?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Hm.”

“It’s all very normal, sweetheart, this just means that you’re healthy, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Good..” He smiles, “You all good?”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“What am I gonna do now..? With, you know, uhm- I don’t wanna ruin all my underwear…”

“Oh! Yes, that..” He reaches into his bag, “So, uh- these will stick on top of your underwear, and like uh- catch the blood, I guess.. And then you throw them away after wearing them for like 5 hours or so… That sound okay?”

You nod, slightly sceptical, but oh well.

Eventually, Lando leaves to go and do his own thing, and you stew in the knowledge of your new life. After getting yourself showered and cleaned up, as well as trying your new items, you shuffle downstairs, just needing a hug.

“Hey, baby…” Your dad smiles, as he sits on the tv, watching some nonsense reality show.

You don’t reply, just nestling yourself next to him, needing his comforting touch. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“My baby… getting so big… daddy loves you, more than anything…”

~~~

a/n: fank you for reading!!11 send in any requests xx

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part 6]

a/n: sorry for the delay..i kept this in my drafts hoping i’d get inspiration for something more creative but it never came so i waited like a month for nothing 😔

main masterlist | sweet masterlist

Paige really is trying to be happy.

But it’s incredibly fucking difficult to do when Azzi is laughing in somebody’s arms that’s not hers.

“Chill, P,” KK’s voice pipes up from beside her. “I think everyone in this room can feel how hard you’re staring at her.”

Paige doesn’t say anything, scoffing as she forces herself to turn around. She’s felt jealous before - but nothing like this, where her stomach is turning and she feels physically sick. “You need to get laid.” KK suggests, poking her arm. “Flirt with some pretty girls. Make her jealous.”

“Nah, bro.” Paige rubs her temples. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days, and her body never seems to feel 100% with all the conditioning and the intensity of their practices. Frankly, she’s physically and mentally exhausted, and the little energy she has left isn’t nowhere close to enough to deal with all this. “I’m done. I don’t wanna keep doing this back and forth shit.”

“So you’re gonna give up?” KK asks incredulously, eyes widening.

“She’s the one who gave up on us before we even started.” Paige toes the ground. “It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. I told her how I felt and she doesn’t want to date me.” Her jaw tightens. “I just don’t get how she can forgive Micaela so easily and not me.”

“I don’t think it’s about forgiveness, Paige,” KK says slowly, her demeanor serious. “I think she’s scared, and rightfully so.”

“I know she is,” the blonde groans. “But goddamn, isn’t it worth it? I think about her and I get fucking giddy thinking about being able to take her on dates and shit.”

KK falls silent, worry pooling in her eyes for the girl that’s been like an older sister to her. She’s not used to this, being the one to give Paige advice. “You keep saying you’re okay,” she says finally. “But you don’t have to be.”

“I’m not,” Paige admits. “But I will be.”

•••

Paige curses, kicking at the chair before flopping down on it. Jana and Ice exchange looks behind her back as she aggressively grabs a Gatorade bottle and squirts water into her mouth.

“None of my shots are fucking falling,” she rants, eyes quickly tracking the movement on the court. “How many turnovers have I had?” she asks, turning to one of the team managers on the bench.

The manager checks her iPad, looking back up at Paige sympathetically. “Four.”

“Fuck.” Paige slams the Gatorade bottle down on her thigh. “I don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me.”

The team is up by twenty five points, and Paige doesn’t see the court for the rest of the game. As soon as the buzzer sounds, she’s out of her seat, rushing through the handshake line to go to the locker room. She knows Geno likes giving the fourth quarter to the bench to help them get more experience, but she can’t help but be annoyed that she hadn’t been allowed to go back in and redeem herself against a shitty team that couldn’t even shoot. She’d turned the ball more over than had assists, for fuck’s sake.

“Paige, you coming?” The team is huddled around the door, on their way out for team dinner.

Paige is still next to her locker, head bowed down as she rummages through her duffel. “You guys go ahead,” she responds. “I think I’m done for the night.”

She hears her teammates hesitate, murmuring softly to each other before they decide to leave her be. As she hears the last of the footsteps, she turns around to make her own exit, making eye contact with big brown eyes as Azzi happens to look back at the same time.

Stay. Her eyes communicate everything she’s not brave enough to say out loud. Stay with me, she begs. I don’t want to be alone.

And Azzi, her best friend, who’s always been able to read Paige’s mind, who knows what Paige is feeling before she herself can ever put a name on it, who’s always there before Paige even has to ask, hesitates, her steps faltering, eyes rounding. But then her eyebrows dip, as if she’s remembering their last conversation, the hurt they’d made each other feel.

Azzi bites her bottom lip and turns back around, pace quickening to catch up with the rest of the team.

Paige slams her locker shut.

She was a fool for ever believing Azzi would still care about her after everything she’d done.

•••

“Don’t beat yourself up, Paige,” her dad says. His voice is distorted over the speaker, but still comforting from thousands of miles away. “What would you say if one of your teammates had an off performance like this? You need to learn to give yourself grace too.”

“I know, I just-” Paige looks up at the ceiling, studying the ugly floral patterns glaring back down at her. “I just can’t help but feel like I’m letting them down.” She pulls the blanket tighter over herself. “I’m supposed to be their voice on the court, and today I was doing jack shit.”

“That’s what makes you a good leader. Recognizing the mistakes you’ve made, moving on from them and becoming better after.”

Paige sighs. She appreciates her dad’s efforts to comfort her, but right now nice words are doing nothing to alleviate the hollowness in her heart.

“This isn’t helping, is it?” her dad, ever so honest, realizes.

Paige winces. “Not really. But I appreciate it.”

He chuckles softly. “I could tell. Azzi was the only one who could get through to you when you were like this back in high school. Where is she?”

“She’s, uh, out right now. With the team.” Paige doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they haven’t talked much at all in the last month. Her dad has always had a soft spot for Azzi, their more shy and introverted personalities making them get along.

“Well, when she comes back, have a talk with her, okay? I don’t want you sitting alone with your feelings. It’s not good for you.”

Paige swallows hard. “I will,” she lies. The mere mention of Azzi only intensifies the headache she’s already having. “Listen, I’m pretty tired, so I’m prolly gonna crash now.”

“Yeah, get some rest.” Her dad pauses. “I love you, Paige. Don’t forget that.”

“I know. Love you too.”

The call disconnects, and sitting in her bed in the dark room, the whirring air conditioning the only sound in the room besides her heavy breathing, Paige misses home more than ever. She misses her parents, and Drew. She misses being with people she hasn’t hurt over and over again with stupid mistakes.

“Paige?”

Paige looks up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, and she’s more confused to see Azzi standing there uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot, cheeks pretty and rosy from the cold outside.

“Az? How’d you get in?”

“Aubrey gave me the key card.” Azzi drops said key card on the table. “Everyone’s really worried, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut the crap.” Paige buries her face back into the pillows, not wanting another lecture on how bad she played. “I’m sorry I fucking blew it.”

“Paige.” Azzi’s tone is soft, and Paige realizes just now how much she’s missed the way her name sounds coming from Azzi’s mouth. “They’re not worried about the way you played. They’re worried about how you reacted to it. They’re worried about you.”

The younger girl sits down tentatively at the edge of the bed. “You always take care of the team,” she says quietly. “But you don’t have to carry the weight of that alone. Sometimes you need to put yourself first.”

Paige almost throws herself into Azzi’s arms, catching the dark haired girl off guard for a moment before she gently hugs her back. As if on instinct, her hands go up to start undoing her ponytail, like she used to always do after games. Azzi combs through her hair, gently twisting off the hair tie and murmuring into her ear.

Shoulders shaking, Paige sinks into Azzi’s chest as she finally allows herself to cry. “It’s okay, baby,” Azzi whispers, lips grazing her ear. “I got you.”

It seems like hours that Azzi holds Paige. Eventually, the blonde’s breathing evens out, her sniffling stopping as her breaths become deeper. She thinks Paige is asleep until the older girl turns her head slightly. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Azzi slings an arm across her waist, breathing her in. The ends of Paige’s hair tickle her cheek, but she doesn’t move. “Do you want me to be?”

Paige’s voice comes out, barely in a whisper. “Yes.”

Azzi drops her head, lips skimming across the older girl’s neck. Paige’s skin is warm, her pulse fluttering under her touch. Azzi tightens her grip on her waist, thumb dipping under her shirt to stroke soft circles on her hipbone. Paige shifts closer. “Then I’ll be here.”

•••

Paige wakes up to tangled sheets and warm hands on her face. She blinks sleepily as her vision sharpens to see Azzi propped over her on one elbow. “How you feeling?” Azzi asks softly, her morning voice scratchy.

Paige reaches up, fingers trailing over Azzi’s hand cupping her cheek. “Better,” she breathes out. She looks over at the alarm clock, groaning. “We still have half an hour.”

Paige flips over onto her belly, resting her head on Azzi’s chest. Azzi grabs her waist, adjusting her so that the older girl is fully on top of her. Her hands go up to stroke Paige’s back, scratching up and down her bare skin with her fingernails. Closing her eyes, Paige listens to the steady beat of Azzi’s heart. “You always smell so good,” she murmurs.

Azzi hums, rubbing her socked foot against Paige’s ankle. Paige has almost drifted off again when fingers gently brush hair out of her face. “We gotta be at breakfast in 10.”

“Don’t wanna get up.” She groans when Azzi takes her hands out from under her shirt, pushing Paige off her softly. Azzi starts to get ready, grabbing clothes to wear from Paige’s duffel without even asking.

Paige sits at the edge of the bed, watching Azzi move around the room. She can almost imagine that they’re back to normal again, going to bed together and waking up together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re the only one that makes me feel like this.”

Azzi pauses for a moment before choosing not to respond. She disappears into the bathroom, reemerging a few seconds later with two toothbrushes. She hands one to Paige. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

Paige grabs the toothbrush and stares at her. “What? It’s true.”

“It’s not gonna help either of us move on,” Azzi says pointedly.

“What if I don’t want to move on?” Paige challenges, following Azzi back to the bathroom.

“There’s no future for us, Paige,” Azzi says harshly, turning around to put a warning hand against Paige’s chest. She closes the door between the two of them as if to reaffirm their boundaries.

“So you’re just gonna come to my hotel room and hold me through the night then get pissed at me for still having feelings for you?” Paige laughs humorlessly, slumping down to sit against the door. “Real classy, Azzi.”

“You needed someone. I couldn’t sit in my room knowing you were suffering.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re making it worse by all this coming and leaving?” Paige blinks back tears. “God, you finally just look at me again and I go fucking crazy.” She scrambles to her feet once she hears the door unlock, and Azzi comes out, her eyes slightly red. “I can’t have just some of you. I need to have all of you or - or none of you.”

The younger girl jerks towards her. “You’re a fucking liar, you know? You said no matter what decision I chose, you would be happy,” she shoots back, voice shaky with anger.

Paige’s eyes cloud over. “How do you know that?”

Azzi hesitated. “The letter you write me- I found it. In the guest room.” As if on instinct, her hands reach for her purse, but she stops herself. It certainly wouldn’t help her case if Paige knew she carried that note with her everywhere she went.

Cursing under her breath, Paige runs a hand through her hair. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Yeah, well.” Azzi takes a deep breath, trying to recollect her thoughts. “I’m asking you to be happy for me, okay? I know it’s a lot. But you’re my best friend. I need you to do this for me.”

“You’re not being fair to me.” Paige’s words catch in her throat. “You know how this makes me feel.”

“I know.” Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. Her thumb finds the tears coating the older girl’s lashes, the dampness of her cheeks, trying to brush them away, trying to brush all their mistakes and their sins and their pain away. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Paige dips her head down, burrowing it into her shoulder, fingers digging into Azzi’s waist as if holding onto her any tighter will keep her from slipping away from her life. “Okay.” Her voice cracks. Just ten minutes ago, she’d been firmly resolute in her ultimatum - seeing Azzi with other people had hurt too fucking much for her to stand. But now? Paige has always been a people pleaser. Recently she’s been learning to stand her ground, to be okay with letting others be upset. But when it comes to her best friend, who’s pleading with her, eyes wet with grief and hope and a million words unsaid, Paige knows that she doesn’t have it in her to say no. That learning to get over her pain will somehow be doable if it means that it’ll take away just a little bit of Azzi’s . “Okay.”

[xstarrynightskyex]

AND THATS THE POWER OF GOOD STORYTELLING!! They show us the world from Orpheus’ perspective, they show us how wonderful and beautiful he sees the world as being, and we can’t help but fall in love with it because who wouldn’t? Even Eurydice, who spent her whole life in harsh reality, can’t help but have hope for the first time after meeting him. And that hope and joy, even though it’s only present in one or two songs, is so powerful that it carries through the whole rest of the show to the point where by the time he starts to doubt, we can’t really sympathize. We can’t believe he would do anything other than succeed, he’s come this far, right? He’s right there! He’s so close!

And part of that is because all of the hardships that he goes through that make him doubt and give him that character development are unsung. It all happens during that one dance break, so we don’t hear his thoughts about what he has to go through to get down to Hadestown, just that he does it. He makes this impossible trek without saying a word other than “wait for me, I’m coming,” so we completely miss how jaded it makes him. The only hint at what happened is right before Doubt Comes In, which is the line where he asks Hades how they know it’s not a trick.

Anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk

[bloomzone]

📕 𝟓𝟎-𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

March 1st ! If you’ve been slacking, if your study habits have been messy, or if finals are creeping up way too fast this is it. I did a 20-day productivity challenge before, but now, with finals staring me down and less than 90 days to go, I need to actually get my flip together.For the next 50 days, I’m locking in. This isn’t about aesthetic study sessions or fake productivity or like those 10s filming study routine 💁🏻‍♀️ . It’s about deep focus, real progress, and making sure you n i walk into finals prepared, not panicked.

before we start! what are the ..

🔴 Things You Need to Avoid

When you’re pushing yourself to study, it’s easy to fall into traps that make the process feel harder than it needs to be. One of the biggest things to avoid is procrastination. It’s tempting to delay tasks and distract yourself with less important things, but the truth is, the longer you wait, the more overwhelming it becomes. Putting things off only builds stress and leaves you with less time to focus on what truly matters.Another major pitfall is burnout. While it might feel like working non-stop is the key to success, the reality is that exhaustion doesn’t lead to productivity. If you push yourself too hard without breaks or balance, you’ll find your focus slipping, and your energy drained. Instead, aim for deep, focused study periods with scheduled rest to recharge. The key is working smart, not just hard.u also NEED to stay away from passive studying. Reading over your notes without actively engaging with the material might feel like you’re making progress, but it’s not enough. True learning happens when you interact with the content whether that’s through active recall, practicing problems, or teaching the concept to someone else. It’s about getting the information out of your head, not just in.And then there’s multitasking, which can be deceiving. You might think that juggling multiple tasks or subjects at once is a sign of productivity, but in reality, it dilutes your focus. Instead, concentrate on one subject at a time and give it your full attention. By focusing deeply, you’ll achieve better results in less time.Finally, avoid over-planning. It’s easy to get stuck in an endless loop of scheduling and rearranging without actually doing the work. While having a plan is crucial, it’s more important to take action. Don’t get paralyzed by perfection; start moving forward, and adapt as you go.

💡 What You Need to Succeed

Success in a challenge like this comes down to preparation, mindset, and consistency. First and foremost, you need to set yourself up for success by organizing everything you need. Having your books, notebooks, and study tools ready at your desk isn’t just about being prepared—it’s a psychological trigger that helps you get into the right mindset. When you see your space ready for work, it subconsciously tells your brain that it’s time to focus.But it’s not just about the materials. Your environment matters. A cluttered space can lead to a cluttered mind, so make sure you have a clean, quiet place to study. This is where you’ll spend most of your time, so make it a space that supports your work rather than distracts you. Even something as simple as proper lighting and a comfortable chair can make a huge difference in your ability to focus.It’s also essential to have the right tools. Flashcards, sticky notes, mind maps, or even physical planners whatever helps you engage with the material actively is what you should have at hand. You don’t need to follow a one-size-fits-all strategy, but it’s about finding what works best for you. What will make the material stick? What will make you more engaged and less likely to zone out?Consistency is key, too. This isn’t a sprint y'all u need to commit to a study schedule that’s manageable and realistic. Establish a routine that you can stick to every day thats what my teachers say everyday whether it’s an hour in the morning or a few hours in the evening. Building consistency will help you develop the discipline needed to push through tough moments, especially when motivation runs low.Finally, don’t forget about your energy. Sleep, food, and overall well-being are the foundation of any successful study routine. Without proper rest, your brain can’t absorb or retain information. Make sure you’re getting enough sleep to let your brain recharge and consolidate what you’ve learned. Likewise, pay attention to your body when you're well-rested and nourished, you’ll feel more alert, focused, and motivated. Let's cb !

📕 𝟓𝟎-𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧

( starting March 1 – May 9)

0️⃣1️⃣ Week 1: System Reset & Strategy (March 1-7)

🔹 List everything you need to study before finals.

🔹 Identify weak areas & high-priority topics.

🔹 Create an adaptable study plan (structured but flexible).

🔹 Set non-negotiable study hours per day (📚 2< hours).

🔹 Organize notes & resources so you’re not scrambling later.

🔹 Test different study environments & methods to maximize focus.

0️⃣2️⃣ Week 2: Deep Focus & Active Recall (March 8-14)

🔹 No passive studying (no just reading or highlighting).

🔹 Prioritize active recall (practice papers, Q&A, teaching concepts).

🔹 Use visual memory aids (mind maps, charts, bullet points).

🔹 Track distractions & eliminate what kills your focus.

🔹 Keep a focus log: What breaks your concentration? Fix it.

0️⃣3️⃣ Week 3: Technical Subjects and theory based subjects (March 15-21)

📜 Literature, history , philosophy... and theory-based subjects:

➖ Read critically, summarize, and debate ideas (not just memorize).

➖ Work on structured arguments & analysis for essays.

📈 Math ... problem-solving subjects:

➖ Use timed practice to simulate exam pressure.

➖ Write key formulas & rules on flashcards.

➖ Break down problems into step-by-step solutions.

🔹 Study difficult subjects when your energy is highest.

0️⃣4️⃣ Week 4: Writing & Expression (March 22-28)

🔹 Summarize topics in your own words every day.

🔹 Create one-page cheat sheets for major topics. (for revision nothing else 💁🏻‍♀️)

🔹 Write mock essays & structured answers (practice depth).

🔹 Focus on clarity & argument-building (make your writing strong).

🔹 Challenge: Can you explain this concept in 3 sentences?

0️⃣5️⃣ Week 5: Self-Testing & Performance Check (March 29-April 4)

🔹 Take full practice tests under exam conditions.

🔹 Time yourself: Work on speed & accuracy.

🔹 Identify weak spots and revisit them.

🔹 Grade your own work harshly���improve where needed.

🔹 Find patterns in mistakes and create strategies to fix them.

0️⃣6️⃣ Week 6: Memory & Retention (April 5-11)

🔹 Daily mini-revision of past weeks’ topics (keep everything fresh).

🔹 Use mnemonics, stories, & memory associations.

🔹 Sleep optimization for memory consolidation (good sleep = better recall).

🔹 Try retrieval practice before checking notes.

🔹 Apply concepts in real-life situations (where possible).

0️⃣7️⃣ Week 7: Peak Productivity & Stamina (April 12-18)

🔹 Push study hours (without burnout).

🔹 Use study sprints: 2-3 intense sessions per day.

🔹 Reduce fake productivity (low-value tasks don’t count).

🔹 Prioritize high-impact topics.

🔹 Simulate exam pressure—train yourself to think fast under stress.

0️⃣8️⃣ Week 8: Advanced Questioning & Strategy (April 19-25)

🔹 Study past exam patterns : what do they repeat?

🔹 Learn what examiners actually want in answers.

🔹 Debate answers with yourself or others (argue both sides).

🔹 Find alternative explanations for complex topics.

🔹 Challenge: What’s the hardest question you could get? Be ready.

0️⃣9️⃣ Week 9: Mastery & Confidence (April 26-May 2)

🔹 Final review: Focus only on weak spots.

🔹 80/20 Rule: What 20% of topics will help the most?

🔹 Do “last-minute style” studying—but without panic.

🔹 Take simulated exams with time limits (test performance).

🔹 Train your brain to stay confident under pressure.

🔟 Week 10: Exam-Specific Prep (May 3-May 9)

🔹 Prioritize final polishing, NOT cramming.

🔹 Review summaries, key formulas, & essay structures.

🔹 Optimize sleep & energy (don’t mess this up now).

🔹 Have a "cheat sheet" in your mind for each subject.

🔹 Last 3 days: Light review, no stress, trust your prep.

last tip !

There will be moments when u feel like giving up, when the material seems overwhelming or the effort too much. That’s when your mindset needs to kick in. The difference between success and failure isn’t about natural talent or born smart it’s about your ability to keep going when things get tough I'm talking about the material not burnout out .The truth is, hard work, perseverance, and adaptability are what lead to success not innate ability.Think of each week as a building block, each day as a step forward. Every time you study, you’re not just learning the material you’re evolving. You’re becoming more disciplined, more capable, and more confident. Even on the days when you feel like you’ve made little progress, remind yourself that you’re making small, consistent strides. These small changes compound over time

good luck !

@bloomzone

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes (silverfox)

Note: Friday at last and my house guest is away for a couple days.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky plants his feet as the bike comes to a stop. You look up at the duplex and your insides get all swirly. You're home and still giddy. You've made up your mind. It's now or never.

He shuts off the engine and waits for you to get off first. You hang onto his shoulder for balance as you hop down. He gets off without much effort and heaves a dark sigh. He hesitates and you do too.

"That was awesome, Bucky," you shimmy. 

"Mm," he drones and flinches, moving toward the saddle bag. He unbuckles it and takes out the cookies. "Don't forget these."

You take them reluctantly and he hauls out his bag of groceries. He wraps one arm around it and lets the flap fall open. He faces you as you clutch the box to your chest. Don't let him do it. He can't send you away now.

"Hey, you want... want to try some? I could make us some tea."

His eyes dart to the side then he looks down at the bag. He fidgets and shifts on his feet. He looks at you and his forehead lines. He deflates just a little as you watch him with rounded, hopeful eyes.

"Sure, I should get the yogurt in the fridge though so why don't you come in?" He relents.

You could fist pump and jump in glee. You don't. You're not that lame. You bounce and smile.

"Oh, yay," you grin, "so you got everything set up?"

"Hm, not much. Still got a few things to grab," he grits.

You walk up the steps beside him and stand aside, waiting for him to unlock the door. He keeps the screen door open with his elbow then pauses before he pushes open the inner one. He sniffs.

"Go on, girl," he waves inside.

Huh, what happened to doll?

You enter as if you've discovered some ancient crypt full of treasures meant for the after world. There's a couch and a coffee table, a floor lamp behind the former. The area rug is the only piece of decor to give it any warmth. You try not to be too obvious as you take account of the barren space.

"I might got some tea," he says as he gentle touches your back and slips by. You savour the tingle along your spine.

You take off your boots before you break the threshold of the front room. You tiptoe in as you hear him in the kitchen. He sighs as cupboards open and close.

"It doesn't have to be tea," you call to him. You near the table and examine the motorcycle magazine, a sheet of paper tucked under the cover.

"Good, all I got is beer," he says. 

"Mmm," you turn as he comes close with the bottles.

"Coasters," he says.

"Oh, uh, right," you set the box next to the magazine and take two of the cork coasters from the stack. You place them down and he swiftly clanks the bottles into place.

"I know it's not much but uh, get comfortable," he says.

You pluck up a bottle and sit on the couch. You taste the malty beer. It's not bad. He paces around and nears the window. You watch his back.

You lean forward to set down the bottle and tear the seal on the box. You flip the top and pick out two cookies. You get up and approach him. You stop beside him.

"Try one," you offer.

He exhales and accepts it with a thanks. You nibble and he crunches into his. It's a bit dry by sweet.

You're nervous. You've never been this close in your life. Now you have the prime opportunity. You're in his space. You finish the cookie and smack your lips.

"Dry," you chuckle, "need to wash it down."

"Me too," he says.

He follows you as you go to grab your beer. You drink and sit. He does the same, stiffly, as he takes his beer and swigs. Your eyes stick to him. You watch his throat and the way his chest stretches the fabric of his shirt. You set the beer back on the cork and sidle closer. You're fuzzy all over.

You put your hand on his knee. He flinches and lowers the bottle. He looks at your hand and reaches to set down the beer. His other hand covers yours and he peels it off.

"Look, doll," he squeezes and clears his throat, gently laying your hand in your own lap. "There's things you don't know about me. I think you better just finish and go."

"Bucky, I... it's okay. Whatever it is."

"I'm too old for ya," he puffs. "You're young. Don't do this."

His eyes bore into yours. You pout.

"I might be young but I can make my own choices. So why don't you tell me so I can?"

His cheek twitches, "girl--"

"Please. Don't I deserve to know?"

"I don't know what you're thinking, girl. Alright? Look at us. I'm... I gotta twice your age. And you're... you're too sweet for your own good."

"Tell me," you reach for him again, petting the denim on his thigh. "I won't go until you do. Or you can drag me out."

His eyes flicker and he looks at the window behind you. His jaw squares and he shakes his head. He slaps his hand over yours again but doesn't move it away.

"I'm a criminal. I just got out and I'm tryna rebuild, but I'm not changed. Alright? You understand me," he snarls. "I'm a bad man. I hurt people. Too late for me to change that."

You search his face, "but... you haven't hurt me. And you did your time."

"Girl, don't be foolish."

"No, Bucky, you told me and I don't care. I don't care what you are. I know that you feel this too," you move closer. "Don't you?"

He turns his head and stares at the wall. You squeeze his thigh and get up on your knees. You trail your touch up to his belt and he grunts, stopping you with his thick fingers around your wrist.

"Bucky, please," you beg. "It's just us. Nothing else."

"Girl--" he pleads.

"You're not too old, you're not too bad," you slip free of his grasp and tickle up his shirt, "you're perfect for me, baby."

You bring your hand to his jaw and flutter your fingers along his beard. He shudders and you raise yourself on your knees. You lean in and press your lips to his. He grabs your upper arm but doesn't push you away. He growls as you open your mouth and slide your tongue along his lips.

His hand slides away from your arm and to your back, crawling to the back of your neck. You brace his shoulder and swing your leg across him, straddling his lap as you deepen the kiss. He groans as you hook an arm around his neck and snare him. You rock him slightly as you breathe into him, tilting your pelvis against him. 

He grips your hip with his other hand and parts from your mouth. His eyes are cloudy as he gazes up at you. The tension is his cheek pulses.

"Doll," he shakes his head, "one last chance..."

"I got condoms," you say as you sit back and reach to your cross body bag, still resting against your side.

He shivers and slackens against the couch. "You're too much."

"I know what I want," you assure him.

He stares at you and his lashes flick, He grabs the strap of your cross body bag and unhooks it from around you. He puts it on the cushion and gulps. He frames your face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheekbones. He sighs. 

You reach up to curl your fingers under the straps of your tanks top and drag them down your arms. You feel him beneath you. He's hard already. You're soaking through your panties, not that there's much to them.

You push down the sheath of your top to your waist. He inhales sharply and you reach back, your chest bulging as you tug at the band of your bra. You unhook it and quickly drop it down to your wrists. Your tits pop free and jiggle as you toss your bra.

He blinks at your chest. He just sits there, paralysed. You giggle and grab his hands, putting them on your tits, making him squeeze them. He purrs and rolls his hips.

"Doll, you're... you're..." He gropes you then slips his hands down to lift your tits. He leans forward and nuzzles your flesh, pushing your chest around his face as he snarls. You got him. There's no going back.

You arch your back and cling to his head, urging him on. He nips and teethes at you, tracing your nipple with his thumb before popping it between his lips. He hums and swirls his tongue around the hard bud. It must have been a while for him, having been in jail. That sends another thrill through you.

You twine your fingers into his hair and grazes his scalp with your nails. He snarls as he continues to bounce your tits, squeezing and pawing. You never cared much for the extra weight, but now that he's drowning in them, you can't complain.

You lip your hand down between your bodies and feel along the front of his jeans. He groans and wriggles against your touch. He's rock-hard. He hisses as he pulls away and drops back against the couch heavily.

"Doll," he tenses up.

You giggle and tug at the bottom of his shirt. You push it up his stomach and over his broad chest. You mess his hair as you swoop it past his head and drop it over the back of the couch.

Now it's your turn. You flatten your hands across his pecs and moan. He growls and you drag your nails lightly down his skin, the soft hair contrasting against hard muscle. His stomach is cushier but not in a bad way.

"Baby, you got me struggling," he groans and rubs your thighs, his pelvis tilting desperately.

"Me too," you breathe.

You linger at the top of his jeans then back off of him carefully. His eyes widen. You see fear in him. You grin and turn to wiggle your ass as him. You hook your fingers inside your leggings and bend as you push them down. Your thong rides up between your cheeks. He hums as the couch springs whine beneath him.

You shiver as your nerves flurry in your chest. This is it. So close. You're throbbing. You can see the slickness in your leggings as you step out of them.

"How... why do you want me, doll? You're... you're gorgeous," he rasps.

You stand and face him again. You shake your chest at him and he brings his fist up to bite his knuckle. You feel powerful.

You slink closer to him and touch the front of your bejeweled thong, a little heart on black. "Can I keep these on?"

"Yes," he croaks and clears his throat, "yes, doll."

You grin and grab your bag. You unzip the front pocket and slide free the strip of condoms. It unfurls and you laugh. "Oops... think we'll need them all?"

He startles you as he swipes up the end and tears one off, "we'll see."

You drop the rest beside your bag and blink at him. You sense something different. He tears open his pants and raises himself off the cushion as he shoves the denim down. His dick bobs above the elastic of his briefs, the head swollen and weeping. You get even wetter as you see the veins bulging under the skin.

He rips the wrapper with his teeth. He trembles as he presses the rubber to his tip and you near him, wavering as you weigh the moment. This is your last day a virgin. You take a silent breath and lean forward to grab his shoulders. He quakes and moans as he slides the condom down his length.

You bring yourself over his lap, hovering above him as he grips himself. He frames your hip and hisses, "doll, please, please, I need you on me. I need--"

You reach down and wrap your fingers above his. He lets go and gasps. You angle his tip along your cunt and push your panties aside. You stare down at him. Your eyes cling to his and you bite your lip.

You dip down carefully. As you open around him, you grunt. You sink your nails into his trap and your eyes speckle with tears. Oh, it hurts more than you expect.

He taps your hip, "stop," he snarls.

You bat your lashes but obey, "I can take it--"

"Come on," he feels along your side. He loops his arm around you and in an instant, he has your back to the cushion. He slips out of you. 

He fishes out your bag from beneath you and sweeps it onto the floor. He knees on the other end of the couch and urges you further up. You drag yourself until your head is against the armrest. 

He bends between your knees and kneads your thighs, his eyes on your cunt. He licks his lips before he plunges in. You yipe in surprise as he laps at you, his beard tickling your lips as he pushes your legs wider.

He flicks his tongue around and across your clit. You spasm and clasp onto his hair as the sensations stir within like flames. Your thighs clench and your spine stiffen. You pout and gulp loudly as he toys with you, suckling and swiping as you squirm.

He growls into you and traces a finger along your ass up to your entrance. He spreads the wetness there before he delves inside. He pushes his finger in bit by bit then draws it back out. He adds another and urges inside even deeper.

His tongue teases you to the edge as he pushes in and out of your cunt. He hums and drinks you up, spreading his tongue as wide as he can to taste all over you. He seals his lips once more around your clit and the pressure pinpoints, pulsing faster and faster until your muscles release.

There's a sudden surge and a hot flow coursing from you, dripping down his fingers. You convulse and whimper as you wash away with your orgasm.

He kisses your cunt before he sits up. You watch him, bleary-eyed, and he wipes the glisten from his beard with a hum. He inhales so his chest puffs out and he cracks his neck.

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right," he growls.

[fawnhart]

thinking about sugar staying up late to wait for rafe ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⋆.

The clock on the wall ticks 2:34 am, the soft hum of the fridge filling the quiet little apartment. You sit curled up on the pale blue couch, knees tucked under you, fighting the weight of your eyelids. Chip is sprawled across your lap, warm and snoring, his little paws twitching every now and then.

You should be asleep.

You know that.

But Rafe isn’t home yet, and you can’t seem to fall asleep knowing that.

God forbid something happened to him while he was out there fighting flames

It’s not like you mean to worry, it’s just something that happens. Every time he has a late shift at the fire station, you find yourself waiting, telling yourself you’ll just stay up a little longer. Just until you hear his truck pull up. Just until you hear his boots on the front steps.

Just until you know he’s safe.

Chip stirs as you shift on the couch, rubbing at your eyes. The little lamp beside you casts a warm glow, flickering slightly when the AC kicks on. The apartment feels different when Rafe’s not in it. Too quiet, too still. A year ago, you wouldn’t have even noticed. You’d have been used to empty rooms and lonely nights.

But now?

Now you can’t stand it.

The familiar rumble of his truck pulling into the driveway makes your heart jump. You straighten up, smoothing Chip off your lap as his ears perk up. A moment later, the front door unlocks, creaking open to reveal a tired, soot-smudged Rafe, still in his uniform, his helmet tucked under one arm.

He steps inside, brows pulling together the second he sees you. "Sugar, what in the world are you doin’ up?"

You yawn, stretching your arms above your head. "Just…waitin’."

His eyes soften. He sighs, closing the door behind him. "I told you, you ain’t gotta do that. I can take care of myself."

"I know." You mumble, rubbing at your eyes. "Just don’t like sleepin’ till I know you’re home."

Something flickers across his face, something unreadable. He takes off his boots, dropping his helmet onto the counter before walking over to you. The scent of smoke clings to him, mixed with the crisp night air.

"You’re too sweet for your own good, y’know that?" He mutters, reaching down to flick at the hem of your pajama tank top. "C’mon, let’s get you to bed."

"I know, I know." You huff, though your voice is thick with sleep but he just smiles, reaching out to ruffle your hair like it it’s nothing Your face burns, and you swat his hand away, but your heart is doing a whole different thing inside your chest.

Chip jumps down from the couch, circling Rafe’s legs before trotting off towards your bedroom, tail wagging

You sigh, standing up and stretching again. Rafe watches you for a moment, something fond in his gaze, before he reaches out and pulls at your upper arm, guiding you towards your room. "Go on, get some sleep. I needa’ take a shower."

You hesitate in the doorway, looking up at him.

His lips twitch. "I promise I’m not goin’ anywhere."

You nod, finally stepping inside, but before you can close the door, you hear him mutter under his breath, barely audible

"Don’t know what I’d do without you, Sugar."

You fall asleep with a smile, knowing that when you wake up, he’ll be there.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[holylulusworld]

Collateral Damage (2)

Summary: He only wanted some coffee.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: secret admirer, kinda love-struck Bucky, blood, getting shot, fluff

Catch up here: Collateral Damage

Collateral Damage masterlist

“I’ve got you, doll. Hang on,” Bucky whispers as he easily picks you up. He nods at two men storming into the café, guns in their hands. “Cleared.” He confirms and walks toward one of them. “I need Doctor Cho at the mansion and a cleaning team. One is alive; take them.”

“Got it, boss,” the man replies, getting to work. He grabs the barista and drags them out of the café.

“Back entrance,” the second man says, looking at you in Bucky’s arms. “Is that her, Buck?” The tall, dirty-blonde man asks, earning a grunt and a nod from Bucky.”

“Get her book,” Bucky grits out. “Her bag, jacket. Everything belonging to her. I don’t want them to drag her into this shit show.”

"You know, Buck. I'm not one of your men. I came by to have coffee with you and noticed you tried to have some fun." The man remarks as Bucky gives him another stern look. "Alright, I'll get her things while you bring her outside. The car is waiting."

Bucky wastes no time. He leaves the café through the back entrance, yelling orders at more men who come to help him.

One opens the door to the backseat of a black SUV while another helps him get you inside the car. Bucky joins you, taking the first aid kit from the man’s hands.

“We need to go back. Now. She needs a doctor.”

None of the men seems to be surprised that their boss is carrying an injured woman around, or that he didn’t even ask if you want to come with him.

“Where are we going?” You finally ask, a little too late. Getting into a car with a stranger; another mistake.

“Home,” he replies as he opens the first aid kit. He cleans his hands with sanitizer before checking on your arm.

“You don’t know where I live,” you reply, eyes glued to his hands cutting your shirt open. You wince seeing more blood seeping out of the wound.

“My home,” Bucky says while cleaning your wound. “It’s a graze.” He murmurs, relieved. “Why did you throw a book at an armed attacker?”

“I—” You blink a few times. Honestly, you didn’t think much at that moment. Your instinct told you what to do. You threw the book at the attacker to keep them from killing the mysterious man staring at you when he believed you were not looking for months. “I don’t know.”

“I think it will need stitches, but this should do for now.” He wraps a bandage around your arm, careful not to hurt you even more. “Doll, you have to be more careful. No more attacking people with books.”

“But—” you pucker your lips and sniff. “They wanted to hurt you. I had to do something. My mom always told me that people just looking the other way are the same as the ones doing the bad things.”

He gives you a half smile. “She’s not wrong, but you could’ve gotten yourself killed. I don’t want you to die for me, doll.”

You nod and return his smile. “So, can I get your name now that I saved your life? I’d like to know the name of the man who was too shy to have a coffee with me.”

“Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you say his name out loud. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Y/N.” You hold out your hand. “Please tell me not every day in your life is like this.”

He shrugs. “It can be like a slowly flowing river or rapids. You never know.”

Bucky guided you inside a huge house, or rather, a mansion. Protected by a large gate and more armed men. He was careful not to touch your injured arm and placed his hand on the small of your back to lead you upstairs and into a guestroom.

A doctor was waiting, just as ordered, to stitch your arm up and give you painkillers. She was very kind and careful. Maybe because she’s a good doctor—or the fact that Bucky didn’t leave your side.

He sent her home, handing her an envelope, undoubtedly filled with cash. Her payment for fixing you up without asking questions.

"What will happen now?" you asked after she left. “You killed that woman, and the barista is…” Biting your tongue, you tried not to say something wrong. Bucky is a dangerous man, so much you know by now.

“Now, I’ll get you some food and clothes. You need a rest and to sleep the day off. We can talk in the morning, doll,” he softly says, but his expression leaves no room for arguments.

“That’s not what I meant,” you sigh deeply. “What about the police? Do we have to call them, or did your men call them?”

“Doll,” he cups your face, “you are a smart one, aren’t you?” Bucky says, eyes dropping to your lips. “We both know the cops would never believe they attacked us first. I took care of everything. If you want to walk out of my house and life tomorrow and never look back, I’ll never bug you again. But…”

“But…?” You hold your breath and grasp for his hand.

“But, if you stay and let me explain a few things, maybe we can finally have this coffee date you were talking about…”

[cjlouwho]

Everything that could go wrong, leading up to their wedding day, did. The caterer canceled, the venue flooded, they lost two deposits, the tailor made Tommy’s pants two inches too short, they had a bakery refuse to make their wedding cake, and Buck sprained his ankle at work just four days before he was going to say, “I do.”

Tommy was a nervous wreck, but Buck smiled through every mishap. “It only means our actual wedding day will be perfect,” he explained, giving Tommy a peck on the lips. That helped to ease the wave of nausea Tommy was feeling in his gut.

They spent the night before their wedding apart. Tommy made it to the venue first. Buck would be arriving with Eddie any minute. As he waited, Tommy got a string of texts from Buck that had him grinning like an idiot:

On our way

I’m so excited I never fell asleep

I love you so much

We’re getting MARRIED!!!!!!!

I want cake

Yours lol

Be there in ten. I gotta give Eddie directions. Love you forever

Tommy sighed happily, ignoring the teasing coming from Howie as he texted back:

I love you, Evan. So much. See you soon.

Then he waited. Impatiently.

Ten minutes passed. Then five more. And another five.

He sent Buck another text, asking for a new ETA.

Nothing.

He waited five more minutes before he let himself panic.

“Don’t worry, Tommy,” Howie said. “They’ve gotta take the freeway from Eddie’s place. It’s always a mess and cell service sucks when there’s traffic. They’ll be here soon.”

A deep breath, Tommy nodded, “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

His stomach had barely settled when he heard the sound of the sirens. They were close. Maybe a street or two away.

And then his phone rang.

Evan’s name lit up the screen.

“Hey, baby, where are you?”

“Tommy.”

It wasn’t Evan on the other end of the line. Tommy’s heart sank.

“Eddie, what happened? Where’s Evan?”

“The- The other car came out of nowhere, Man,” he explained in a panic. “I- we got t-boned a-”

“Eddie, where’s Evan?” Tommy demanded.

“They just took him in the ambulance. Th- they wouldn’t let me go with him. You gotta get to Presbyterian, Tommy.”

Tommy hung up as he grabbed his keys and hurried out of the building. He didn’t even think to ask Eddie if he was okay. Howie had been beside him, had heard the whole thing, had called Buck’s number and started talking to Eddie before Tommy had left.

The only thing Tommy could think about was the last thing Evan had written him.

Love you forever

He hoped forever didn’t end today.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hii, I see that your req is open :). Can I request for seventeen 14th member that got into car accident and the other member's reaction?

Signed with Worry | Seventeen x 14thMember | angst, fluff

tw: car accident, hospital

Seungcheol’s phone buzzed on the table, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Frowning, he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Choi Seungcheol?”

The serious tone of the woman’s voice immediately put him on edge. “Yes, who’s this?”

“This is Nurse Kim from Seoul General Hospital.”

His grip on the phone tightened. “Seoul General? Why—what happened? Is someone hurt?”

There was a brief pause before she responded, voice calm but firm. “I’m calling regarding Y/N. We need you to come in as soon as possible to sign her discharge papers.”

His heart dropped. “Discharge papers? What—why is she there? What happened to her?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but for safety and privacy reasons, I can’t disclose medical details over the phone. The doctor will explain everything once you arrive.”

Seungcheol felt a lump form in his throat. His mind was racing with worst-case scenarios. “But—she’s okay, right? Please, just tell me if it’s serious.”

A small pause. “She’s stable.”

That wasn’t enough. But it was all he was going to get.

“I’ll be there right away.”

By the time he hung up, his face was pale. The room had gone silent, all twelve members staring at him in alarm.

“What’s wrong?” Joshua asked carefully.

“Hospital,” Seungcheol said, his voice tight. “Y/N’s there.”

The reaction was instant.

“What?!” Hoshi’s eyes widened.

“Why?” Mingyu demanded.

“I don’t know.” Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair. “The nurse wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”

That was all it took for them to grab their things and run out the door.

As soon as they arrived at the hospital, the thirteen of them stormed through the entrance, heading straight for the reception desk.

“Y/N L/N,” Seungcheol said breathlessly. “She’s supposed to be discharged. Where is she?”

The nurse behind the desk barely blinked at the group of frantic men in front of her. “She’s in room 304, waiting for her discharge paperwork.”

Before she could say anything else, they were already rushing down the hall.

Pushing open the door to room 304, Seungcheol felt his chest tighten at the sight of Y/N sitting on the hospital bed, fully dressed, a small bandage on her forehead.

She blinked in surprise when she saw all thirteen of them pile into the room.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “I was expecting just Seungcheol.”

“Too bad,” Jeonghan muttered, arms crossed.

“Are you okay?” DK asked immediately, scanning her up and down.

Y/N sighed. “Guys, I’m fine. It was just a small accident.”

“Small accident?!” Seungkwan’s voice cracked. “You’re in a hospital!”

“They’re literally discharging me right now,” she said.

Before the panic could escalate, the doctor walked in, surprised to see so many people squeezed into the small room.

“Ah, you must be Y/N’s family?” he said, glancing at Seungcheol.

“She has thirteen very worried brothers,” Joshua answered.

The doctor chuckled. “Well, to ease your concerns—Y/N was in a minor car accident. She sustained a mild concussion and a small cut on her forehead that required two stitches. Other than that, she’s in good condition and cleared to go home.”

The members let out a collective breath, relief washing over them.

Mingyu, still not convinced, clapped his hands together. “Okay! I’m carrying her to the car.”

“For the last time, no,” Y/N groaned. “I can walk.”

“But—”

“She said no,” Seungcheol cut in, still in protective leader mode. “Let’s just take her home before one of you actually gives the hospital a reason to keep us here.”

As they left the hospital together, the tension finally eased, replaced by their usual playful bickering. Despite everything, Y/N couldn’t help but smile—she might have gotten hurt, but she’d never felt safer.

[cowboylu]

I’ll Make You A Believer

Hey…👀 sorry I disappeared forever lmao but here’s this. Also apologies to the anon who had to wait for literally ten business years for this hope you’re doing well xx also if there’s any mistakes or typos pls don’t be afraid to tell me cause I’m so fuckin tired lmao

There’s loud music playing when you step into the cabin, the cabin you and abby share on an old couples ranch in exchange for a few hours of work each day. The sight of her hat on the coatrack, on the hook next to yours, makes you smile and you idly balance yourself by hanging onto her jacket so you can take your spurs off.

You don’t bother with your boots however, and Abby must not have either ‘cause her boots aren’t in their designated place.

It feels good to be back. To be home.

You love working on the ranch, looking after the horses while Abby handles the cattle, even if being a wrangler wasn’t exactly what you ever saw yourself doing. The sunsets and sunrises are the best you’ve ever seen out here and Eleanor and Abraham are sweethearts, always offering tea and cake on the rare occasion you make your way up to the big house. Still though, ain’t nothing like seeing Abby’s boots next to yours.

Ain’t nothing like hanging your jacket on her hook so she’ll put hers on yours.

Ain’t nothing like finding her waiting on the porch for you or vice versa.

Ain’t nothing like coming home to your girl.

ᨒ ོ ☼

When you get closer to the kitchen, you realise the song playing is by that Tyler guy you know she likes, something about following someone to Virginia or Virgie or whatever. Said Tyler guy also coincidentally happens to be the husband of one of your favourite singers.

You're ready to say hi when you round the corner, but the view you're blessed with demands you to take a moment to just look at her.

Her oxblood coloured T-shirt strains over her broad shoulders and it's a little damp from the sweat of the sun. Her blonde braid hangs down between her shoulder blades and the dark fabric of her T-shirt accentuates the stray hairs that have escaped from her braid, bleached lighter by the same sun. Your eyes travel down and back up, her boots, her jeans, the wrangler tag just under her belt and her ass just under that.

Lord...that ass.

If you ever needed proof that god existed, it was proven without argument when you met Abby.

After all, an angel can only be created by something capable of creating perfection...and it's either that or dumb luck.

Either way she's standing in front of you, letting you observe her without even knowing she's being observed. Without trying to be anything but herself.

You don't get to observe much longer though, 'cause her dog hears the creak of the old door jam when you lean against it and barks, startling Abby.

You greet Alice when she stands on her hind legs to put her front paws on your thighs, her way of asking for attention. You grant it, obviously, and smile at Abby when she comes towards you and kisses your cheek.

You stand to your full height and Alice gets the message, going back to where she was sitting on the armchair, giving you the chance to appreciate Abby closer. She's holding a spatula you realise, having completely not noticed what she was doing 'cause you were too focused on her.

"Good afternoon..." You say with a small smile, wrapping your arm around her neck to kiss her properly. "Been missin' you."

"Yeah?" She replies quietly against your lips and the hand not holding the spatula slips into your back pocket. "That's good."

You pull back to look at her and - Jesus Christ-the view is even better from the front. Which is saying something.

Those freckles...those eyes...those lips...that goddamned scar on her cheek that she got after a fight gone wrong in high school...the one that you cleaned footloose style while she lay in the bed of Manny's truck as Nora explained to you how to use paper stitches, god bless her.

The way the bottom of her eyebrows grow up and the tops grow down, the crease between them when she gets confused, the dip in her-

"What're you lookin' at?" She breaks your train of thought with a pretty laugh from her pretty lips.

"I'm so in love with you." You reply completely seriously, still gazing into her eyes like she's a statue that just came to life. In awe.

"Thank god."

Her lips meet yours again and your free hand runs up her arm, feeling her muscles and her warm skin.

She's always warm, even when she's cold.

"I love you too." She whispers against your lips, blindly tossing the spatula onto the counter so she can put both hands on you.

You back her up against the counter as you kiss, your hands on that ass that you love so much, squeezing and feeling and cursing the material of her jeans for being so thick. Even though they make her ass look so good. So good.

Abby pulls away, making you groan, but she rests her beautiful head on your shoulder and pulls you in for a hug, so you can't really complain.

From this angle, you can see the eggs she was frying over her shoulder and you smile when you notice they're burnt to hell.

"You're gonna have to make new eggs."

"Are they burnt?" She murmurs softly into your shoulder and you can hear the smile in her voice.

"Like shit."

"God..." she smiles as she pulls away and turns back to the pan, but you keep a hold of her around her waist, uncaring for the little voice in your head that calls you annoying for it because you like it too much.

You like Abby too much.

It's an hour or so later when you're done with dinner and relaxing in the two chairs on the porch. Alice lies in the dry grass a few feet away and Abby is staring out towards god knows what, but your eyes are on her.

You decide you want her to look at you, and so slowly rub the pointed toe of your boot against the inside of her right knee. She doesn't look, however, just pulls your leg up onto her lap.

You huff.

Her hand slips under your jeans to rub the slightly calloused skin of your own knee, but you want her to look at you. To react to you.

So you tilt your foot forwards and run the toe of your boot over the length of her inner thigh, following the seam of her jeans up and down...up and down, up... down...up, up, up...and down.

Abby's chest rises and stays there, but she still doesn't look at you.

Fuck it.

Your foot hooks around the leg of her chair and you turn her to face you yourself. Your beautiful girl.

"Pay 'tention t'me..." You murmur. "Let me look at you."

Abby sighs and you smile, because she lets it happen. You know she's not someone who does things she doesn't want to. Everyone knows it.

"You're beautiful." You say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Stop..." for all that she's brilliant at, she's never been good at loving herself.

"Never..."

your foot rests on her chair, right between

her legs, to keep her attention on you with the anticipation.

Abby's eyes dart down to your foot before back at your face and when her pretty lips press together, you know you've got her.

"I wanna look at you forever...touch you forever..."

And with that, you press your boot forward, pressing into the belt buckle that sits on her navel.

She takes a deep breath like before and her hips twitch. Her fingers twitch like she wants to move too, but she's not very sure where to put her hands. The anticipation stops her from moving anyway.

You tilt your toes back and straighten your leg a little so your heel cap catches on the seam of her jeans, right over her clit.

Abby looks at you for permission, a small raise of the start of her eyebrows, and when you nod she tilts her hips to grind on you.

You admire her for a while. The way her own heel digs into the wooden porch and the way her denim stretches over her thighs. Her hips and her stomach and her chest and her collarbones and the muscle in her neck-

Your thoughts are stopped before you can admire Abby's hands and arms and shoulders and the sweat stains that you can just see on the maroon fabric of her T-shirt under her arms when she makes a small noise.

"Fuck..."

Abby exhales and grabs onto your foot, making you pull it away.

"Ah, ah." You interrupt her before she can complain, waiting until she slumps back in the chair to put your foot back on her. Though this time you use the outsole of your boot, under the heel of your shoe.

"Behave."

And behave she does, because Abby stays still and lets you set the pace. Lets you rub her cunt with your foot through her jeans.

Seeing her like this always makes pride swell in your chest. Pride and a sense of protection.

She could fight you for it, but she doesn't. Abby lets you have the control. She wants this. Just as much as you do.

[insidekatmind]

Stepfather~Cho Sang-woo

Wearning: +18,smut, cheating, age-gap

The air in the house is thick, electric, as if something invisible but powerful was moving between the walls. Since your mother married Sang-Woo, everything has changed. He is not like other men his age: there is a dark elegance in his movements, a sharp intelligence in his gaze. He observes you often, with those dark eyes that seem to dig into you.At first you thought it was just your imagination. You told yourself that he was normal, that he was just your mother's husband. But the more time passed, the more you felt something strange inside you. A shiver every time he touched you, a racing heart when his gaze rested on you for longer than it should have.

One evening, everything changes.

You come home late, the soft light illuminates the living room. He is there, sitting with a glass of whiskey between his fingers, his face relaxed but his eyes fixed on you."You should be more careful, you know?" His voice is low, caressing, as if each word is a thread that wraps around you.You swallow, but you don’t move. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something that keeps you rooted to the floor.

“Were you waiting for me?” you whisper, not even knowing where that question came from. He smiles, tilting his head slightly. “What if that’s the case?”

Your breathing becomes shallow. You tell yourself that you should leave, lock yourself in your room and pretend that nothing is happening. But his gaze is a magnet and you’re not sure you want to resist.

Then he gets up, slowly, like a predator who knows that the prey won’t run away. He passes by you, barely touching you, and your body responds before your mind does. You can’t breathe.“Goodnight.” His voice is a whisper in your ear before he disappears into the shadows of the hallway.

“Wait,” you call as you adjust your little dress. Sang-woo stops in his tracks, his back to you, and for a second you think he's going to ignore you and keep walking. But he doesn't. He turns, slowly, and you can see the glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "What is it?" he asks, his voice low and quiet. There is a hint if amusement in his tone, as if he were already aware of the effect he has on you.

"Why were you waiting for me?" You ask, moving closer to him. Sang-woo doesn't move, but you can see his gaze slide over your body, taking in the way your little dress hugs your curves. Despite yourself, you shiver under his gaze.

"I was worried," he says, his eyes locking onto yours. "You know it’s not safe for a girl your age to be out so late."His words sound so sincere, so protective. But you know there’s another meaning hidden in them.

You’re even closer now, almost touching him. You can feel the heat radiating from his body. "I can take care of myself," you say, your voice soft and sure.

Sang-woo smiles, a slow, dangerous smile that makes your knees weak."I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I won’t worry." He takes a step closer. "Or that I won’t enjoy the view."

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans in, his face mere inches from yours.

"I’m very observant," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "I notice things that others don’t."You look away, not wanting him to see the effect he’s having on you. But he takes your chin in his hand and gently forces you to meet his gaze.

"Don't look away," he says, his voice a command. His fingers slide from your chin to your cheek, tracing a line of fire on your skin. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, and you shiver involuntarily. "You have such lovely lips."

Sang woo puts a finger in your mouth.You let out a soft gasp, your body jerking in surprise as his finger slides past your lips, your tongue instinctively slipping against it. It feels wrong, so wrong, but you can’t seem to stop yourself.Sang-woo watches you, his eyes dark, a smirk playing on the edge of his lips. “I didn't even have to ask you."You want to protest, to spit out his finger and walk away, but the way he looks at you, with desire and something else, makes you freeze.

His finger traces a slow, lazy trail on your tongue, moving further into your mouth, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips. His other hand tightens its grip on your waist, pulling you even closer until you’re pressed against him, your bodies molded together.Sang-woo’s breathing is ragged, his face mere inches from yours, his gaze fixed on your lips.

Sang woo adds another finger into your mouth and you suck them. You’re lost in a sea of sensations, your mind clouded by everything that’s happening. You can’t think, can’t understand what you’re doing. All you can feel is desire, hot and raw, burning through you like a fire.

Sang-woo lets out a low groan as you suck on his fingers, his eyes dark and clouded with lust. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the words barely more than a breath.His hand on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer, until there’s not even a millimeter of space between you.

His fingers slide out of your mouth with a wet pop, glistening in the low light of the room. Sang-woo grabs you again, spinning you around until your back is pressed against the wall, trapping you between the cold surface and his hard body.His lips find your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your collarbone. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” His voice is rough, edged with an almost desperate need.

You can feel the fire spreading through your veins, a mixture of desire and guilt fighting for control. Every touch, every word he whispers against your skin only fuels the fire, until you’re not sure who’s in control anymore.His mouth finds yours, claiming it in a deep, hungry kiss. It’s possessive, demanding, and you surrender to it, your body melting against his.You moan into the kiss and return it with more passionate love. The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the kiss. Sang-woo responds with equal passion, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance that’s both familiar and new.

His hands roam over your body, touching and exploring, as if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve. You can feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your dress, a stark contrast to the coolness of the wall against your back.

He breaks away from the kiss and caresses your ass. "Turn around and bend over for daddy." He whispers close to your ear as he playfully slaps your butt. His words ignite something deep within you, a shiver running down your spine as you obey, turning around and pressing your body against the wall. You can feel the coolness of the surface against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from your body.Sang-woo takes a step closer, his body almost touching yours, and you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "That's my girl," he murmurs, his hand sliding down your body and grabbing your hip.Sang woo lifts your dress and hums satisfied seeing your beautiful ass in the lace thong. He gives a satisfied smile and plays with your thong "I dream about this beautiful ass at night, you know princess,every time you wear those micro dresses. You drive me crazy" Sang woo whispered as he continued to play with the elastic.

His words send another shiver down your spine, your body responding to his touch like a puppet on a string. The way he manipulates your thong, teasing it without touching your skin, is both torture and pleasure."I... didn't realize," you manage to say, your voice trembling. "I just.. I just like wearing them."

Sang woo slaps your ass. "Don't lie princess." The sudden sting of his hand against your skin makes you gasp, but it's not an unpleasant sensation. It only heightens the tension between you, the game of power and desire that you're both playing.

"I—I'm not lying," you protest, but it comes out as a weak whimper.

Sang-woo chuckles, a dark, mocking sound. “You thought I wouldn’t notice? You thought you could tease me, wear those little dresses, and I wouldn’t notice?” He leans closer, his body pressing against yours. “But I did. I saw everything.”His words send another wave of heat through you, your body responding to his tone almost subconsciously. You’re trapped, your body against the wall and Sang-woo so close behind you that you can feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"Do you know how many times I had to jerk off because of you?" Sang Woo growls. His voice is low, rough with desire, and the words make your face flush. "I—I didn't know," you say, your words sounding weak and uncertain.

Sangwoo chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. "Of course you didn't. But I did. Every time I saw you, every time you walked past me with that little dress, I had to stop myself from pulling you into the closest room and taking you right then and there."He leans closer, his mouth just behind your ear. "I'd lie in bed, thinking of you, your body underneath mine... it was torture." His hand glides down your hip, fingertips tracing a lazy path along your thigh. "But now, princess... now you're all mine."Sang woo unbuttons his pants and boxers as he rub his hard cock on your thong.

You gasp softly and try to grind on his erection but he stops you. "No princess, you stay still and take everything that daddy gives you" He whispers and rubs himself a little more, humming with satisfaction.You sigh and nod. Sang woo smiled at your obedience. “Good girl,” he whispers and you moan.He smirks and begins to lift the string of your thong and begins to position his cock inside your underwear, jerking himself off with the underwear you were wearing and grunts.

“Please” you murmur desperately wanting him inside you but Sang woo wasn’t listening. He rubbed his cock across the crack of your ass without going inside and you moaned softly as he grunted.Sang woo only let the tip of his cock into you making you moan softly. “Please” you whisper desperately. He chuckles amusedly and moves it inside you for a while before taking it off again and wanking himself on the thong you're wearing. “Princess I won't fuck you until you beg me” Sang woo hums arrogantly.

“Please daddy” you murmur and he pretends to think about it.Sang woo squeezes your ass humming in satisfaction. "Give me a blowjob and I'll think about it" he whispers rubbing against your entrance and you moan.

Sang-woo smiles as he hears you, his hands still teasing you. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs against your ear. "So desperate for me."He slaps your ass making you jump. "If you want my cock you have to earn it, kneel down and suck it" Sang woo orders you.

You whimper softly, your body responding to his tone, and you find yourself slowly sinking to your knees, looking up at him with a mixture of desire and submission.Sang-woo looks at you smiling, putting a hand on your hair. "So beautiful kneeling for my cock" he purrs.

You feel a shiver goes down your spine at his words, looking up at him with big eyes. The heat from your desire and the anticipation of what was to come make your head spin."Open your mouth" he orders, his voice rougher than any before. You're caught in the moment, hypnotized by the tone of his voice as you do as told and open your mouth, your tongue licking your lips.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and filled with lust. "Good girl." Sang woo in one fell swoop makes his cock enter your mouth and you gasp.

Sang woo throws his head back. “Such a nice, warm mouth,” he murmurs in satisfaction, moving his hips back and forth.You look at him and start licking him and twirling his length back and forth. You groaned seeing his facial expressions, he was so sexy and you were jealous of your mom for all the times she had him.

“Well done keep going” He hums in satisfaction as he gripped onto your hair and thrusts his hips faster.You start sucking his cock faster and he growls slamming your cock faster, cumming down your throat. You were still on your knees looking at him longingly.

Sang woo lifts you up as he pulls up his boxers and pants and sits on the chair carrying you on his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, your body still trembling from the intense experience. Your mind is fuzzy, your thoughts consumed by him. He runs his fingers through your hair, a surprisingly gentle gesture that contradicts his earlier behavior.

“Please fuck me,” you murmur, your head resting on his chest. Sang woo smiles and shakes his head. “Another day,” he murmurs. You pout, but there's a hint of satisfaction in his voice that makes you shiver. "Another day?" you repeat, the words coming out as a needy whine.

Sang-woo chuckles, his hand sliding down your back, his touch possessive. "Impatient, aren't we? Don't worry, princess... I'll give you what you want. But not now."

"Why?" you ask desperately and he smiled. "Take it as a punishment for going out in that short dress and coming home late." He says looking at you. Your face flushes at his words, a mixture of shame and arousal washing over you. You open your mouth to protest, to argue that you hadn't done anything wrong, but then his gaze darkens and you fall silent."You know what you did," he says, his hand gripping your hip tighter as he pulls you even closer. "Don't think I didn't notice you. And now you'll have to pay the consequences."

You sigh and cling to him. At that moment your mother comes down and smiles seeing you in his arms. "I see you've finally started to appreciate him" your mother says happily to you. You look at your mother, feeling a strange mix of guilt and shame. The whole situation feels surreal, as if you're living a double life. You try to hide your feelings behind a smile, pretending that everything is perfectly normal.

Sang-woo, on the other hand, is the picture of tranquility. He smiles politely at your mother, his hand on your thigh, a subtle sign of possession that only you can perceive.

"Sang woo, it's not as bad as I thought" you say to your mom as you look at Sang woo who gives you a smirk.Your mother beams, clearly pleased with your words. "I knew you'd come around," she says, completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between you and Sang-woo.Sang-woo glances at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes at your mother's ignorance. He squeezes your thigh slightly, as if to remind you who's really in control here.

"She's a smart girl," Sang-woo agrees, his voice polite and pleasant. "She just needed a little convincing."

Your mother smiles, completely fooled by his charm. You, on the other hand, can feel the pressure of his hand on your thigh, a constant reminder of his power over you.

[l-starsz]

Billie convincing reader to let her eat her pussy on her period

I'm inlove with your fics, you're such a damn good writer 🫶🏽🫶🏽

a/n: this probably isn’t great because i’m SOOO tired and my head is pounding rn but i hope it’s good at least🥲 and thank you so much ml!! i’m so sorry this took ages for me to write🫶

billie and i were laying in bed together, watching a movie. her back was resting against the comfy pillows on our bed, whilst my back was resting against her front. i was sat between her legs, and her hands were lightly resting against my thighs. we were both intrigued in the movie, or so i thought. whilst i was watching, and keeping up with the storyline, billies hands began to wander. they roamed up my stomach, cupping my boobs gently, before moving down again to this time, rest against my inner thighs.

i really tried to focus on the movie, but i just couldn't with her hands all over me. i knew nothing could happen, i was on my period, which meant that i had to wait a few more days until she could touch me. i'd been so horny. i was desperate for her, but we both knew that nothing could be done about it. well, she could fix my horniness, but i felt bad for asking her to do that when i was on my period. so i waited, and somehow put up with the feeling of being unbearably horny almost all day, every day.

soon enough, i felt her pressing light kisses behind my ear, down my neck, before lightly whispering in my ear.

"can i try something, baby?"

i slightly turned in her arms so that i could see her face, before answering her in a hushed tone.

"and what would that be, hm bil?"

"please can i taste you?"

my eyebrows furrowed and i looked away as i wondered why she was even asking. she knew i was on my period. she'd practically been taking care of me for the last few days. grabbing me a hot water bottle, or holding me in her arms whenever my cramps worsened. getting me whatever food i wanted when i was craving something. making sure i was drinking plenty of water. she really was the best. i just didn't understand why she was asking this now.

"i.. baby, you know i'm still on my period."

"i know.. i just can't wait!! i want to taste you please, love. i'll do anything."

i hesitated slightly. what if i made a mess, and then she got mad? what if i didn't taste good? she must have noticed the look on my face because she began speaking again.

"if you're not comfortable with this, then we don't have to do it. but i promise you that you don't need to overthink it, there should be no what if's filling your mind. you know i love you no matter what. i think you're the most perfect girl in the world."

how did she know?

it was like she could read my mind.

"pleaseeee? pinky promise i'll take great care of you, angel. just like always. pretty please?"

if i hadn't been so horny for the last few days, i probably would've said no, but that side of my brain just took over. i needed her so so bad. i reminded myself that she would always love me. this wasn't going to change that. she wanted this just as much as i did.

"if i say yes, can you put a towel down? you know.. just in case?" i mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"of course, angel. whatever makes you feel the most comfortable." she answered me, placing soft kisses on my forehead.

once i'd spent a short amount of time thinking about it, i looked back into her eyes and nodded.

"i need you billie."

she just smirked at my words, before sitting me up slightly so that she could move from behind me, and settle in between my legs instead.

it didn't take her long to leave the room and grab a towel, folding it slightly and placing it underneath me. she sat on her knees at first, slowly pulling my pyjamas and underwear down so that she had the perfect view of me. once our clothes had been discarded in a messy pile on the floor, she leaned down to lay on her stomach, getting even closer to my core. i let out a needy whine when all she did was lightly blow against my pussy.

she could already see how wet i was. i hadn't told her about how needy id been for the past few days, but i think that as soon as she caught a glance of how wet i was, she immediately realised. she didn't bother to waste any more time, diving straight in. her tongue ran a long stripe up my pussy, before focusing on my clit. she was trying to get me wetter, it wasn't like she needed me to be wetter, she just wanted to tease. i reached my hands down to grab her hair, pulling her impossibly closer to my core in an attempt to get her to move faster.

we both knew that i was already pretty sensitive because of how long i'd needed this, so it wouldn't take her long to get me close, which was why she was trying to drag it out as much as possible. she wanted me to last as long as i could.

her tongue flicked my clit, before licking and slurping, just doing as much as she could to bring me pleasure. after what felt like an eternity, she finally moved to push her tongue inside of me. she worked her tongue against my tight walls as they squeezed against her. my orgasm was approaching fast, and my arousal must have been dripping all over the lower half of her face. at that point, i'd completely forgot that i was on my period, and i think billie had forgotten too. we were both too focused on me finishing.

i was so close, and to add to the pleasure, she pressed her fingers on my clit, quickly rubbing circles against it, making my moans as loud as they could get. i couldn't hold it any longer. no matter how hard i tried, i was too desperate.

"billie! baby, can i cum for you? please?" i moaned out.

"that's ittt." she praised, "cum for me, my love."

as soon as i heard those words, my orgasm hit me. my moans and cries were broken whilst i let the feeling consume me. my back was arching off the bed, and my hands were still tangled in billies hair, gripping onto it tight to ground myself slightly.

as i started to come down from my high, my grip loosened on her hair, and i felt one of her hands gently rubbing my stomach to help me calm down. when i finally flopped against the bed, trying to catch my breath, billie pulled her face away from me, looking into my eyes with a proud smile. all i could see was a mixture of my arousal, and blood dripping down her chin and coating her lips.

my cheeks turned red and i covered my face, embarrassed even though i knew billie was just happy that she'd made me feel good.

i didn't even notice her come closer to my face until i felt her carefully grabbing my wrists to pry my hands away from my face, and i heard her pretty voice.

"don't be embarrassed, angel. can i go clean you up now?"

"please." i nodded and thanked her, allowing myself to be lifted up in her arms, my head resting on my shoulder out of exhaustion.

once we took a long shower, and pampered each other, it was time for us to get back in bed and watch movies for the rest of the day, enjoying each others company just like usual.

[nyoomfruits]

@steviethenarwhal reblogged this post with the following tag

and i was like YEAH i kind of need to see that too SO. i wrote it lmao

--

Oscar had plans, on how this meeting was going to go, on what he was going to say when he saw Carlos again. There was a speech, about what happened to him, about the other Carlos, about what they mean to each other, in that universe.

Then he was going to ask. If Carlos wanted to try with him, too, maybe. Go on a date. Just to see if they would work just as well as the other Carlos and Oscar.

But that all sort of goes flying out of the window when he finally lays eyes on Carlos, his Carlos.

He’s standing in the door opening of his apartment, looking confused and apprehensive, and Oscar.

Oscar can’t do anything but kiss him.

He’s wanted to. He’s wanted to so badly, ever since he got to know Carlos better, got to understand him better. But it had felt wrong, kissing a Carlos that wasn’t his. That didn’t belong to him.

Carlos’s lips are soft – probably some stupidly fancy brand of lipbalm – and warm against Oscar’s, and for a moment – a wonderful beautiful world tilting moment – it’s just them, their lips pressed together, Oscar’s hand fisted in the front of Carlos’s shirt.

Then Carlos pushes him away. “Oscar, what-“ He starts, staring at Oscar with wide eyes. “Why.”

“Shit, sorry, I got carried away, I just-“ He takes a deep breath. “Did you know we are married?” At Carlos’s stunned expression, he continues, “Well, I mean, not here. In another universe. We’re pretty happy together too, from what I gathered.”

“Are you- Do I need to call someone?” Carlos asks, hesitant, cautious, taking a step back.

Oscar rolls his eyes. “I’m not crazy,” he says.

“You were in a coma for 2 months,” Carlos states, holding up his hands. “It wouldn’t be weird, if your brain-“

“Look, do you want to date me or not?” Oscar asks, a little impatiently. This is not at all going how he’d planned it. He’d forgotten how goddamn infuriating Carlos could be. Other Carlos was... Actually, no, he was still pretty infuriating. Oscar had just chalked it up to his other universe-ness.  

Carlos is staring at him like he can’t decide to kiss him again or call an ambulance. Oscar, not willing to wait or hope he settles for the first, throws up his hands. “Fine! Forget it,” he says, turns around to stalk away, but a hand snakes around his wrist.

“Wait,” Carlos says. “Let’s just… Come inside? We’ll talk.”

Carlos’s hand is warm around his wrist, and his eyes are big and doe like and make Oscar feel like he’s drowning and his mouth is pulled up into a hesitant smile and Oscar knows what he tastes like, now.

“Okay,” Oscar says. “Okay, let’s talk.”

[solarmorrigan]

3 & 4 steddie? I love everyone's takes on eddie interacting with steve after the halloween party in s2💛

So! A thing about me is that I'm actually not always comfortable writing about drinking. The "why" of it is kind of a moving target, and I really should have just nixed "drunk" as an option in the tags, so that's my bad D: But! I think I got the rest of your prompt in pretty alright??

4. Cry - Eddie &/ Steve

-

Eddie had only been looking for a quiet place to smoke. Business is great at parties like this, but sometimes he needs a break from all the hubbub. The backyard had been milling with people, but as Eddie had trailed out towards the edge of the property, close to the tree line of the woods behind the house, the crowds had dwindled to nothing, leaving undisturbed peace in their wake.

At least, Eddie had thought so.

It takes a minute for him to notice the new noise – the soft, inconsistent huffs of air working counter to the sound of the whispering breeze. It’s the sound of someone gasping, he realizes, cold anxiety beginning to pool in his gut.

Is someone hurt? Had some drunken idiot wandered out back here, maybe fallen or run into a tree and injured themselves? Were they too hurt to get back up? But, no – as Eddie gets closer to the source of the noise, it becomes clear it isn’t pained gasping, it’s the hitched-breath sound of sobbing.

And just as he starts to think maybe he should just give this person their privacy, let them have a good cry in peace like they clearly intended, he rounds a tree and sees exactly who it is that’s come out into the woods in their lament.

He can’t see the face, but even in the half-light spilling out from the house, the head of hair is unmistakable: Eddie’s just crashed Steve Harrington’s private backwoods breakdown.

For a moment, Eddie is frozen, unsure of what to do. He feels a little like Actaeon stumbling across Diana bathing in the forest, and at any moment he’s going to be turned into a stag for witnessing something he shouldn’t have (and take that, Mrs. Davis – he does pay attention in English class. To the cool parts, at least). Except it doesn’t seem like Steve has noticed him yet, still wrapped up in whatever’s got him miserable, so maybe Eddie can just make a clean getaway? Pretend none of this ever happened?

Intending to do just that, he takes one careful step back and puts his foot down directly on what is apparently the loudest twig in existence. The crack of it rings out like an alarm, and Steve’s head snaps up, his cheeks shining wet in the low light, glancing around frantically until his eyes land on Eddie.

“Uh,” Eddie says, raising one careful hand in greeting. “Hey.”

That seems to knock Steve back into action. He swears, reaching up to wipe roughly at his face, running a hand through his hair, probably trying desperately to look like he hadn’t just been crying. Eddie figures he should probably let him, give him some plausible deniability, pretend he hadn’t been able to see anything in the dark, that he hadn’t heard anything at all. Except now that he’s here, Eddie finds he can’t quite leave well enough alone. He’s curious.

And maybe he feels a little bad for the guy. Just a little. He looks sort of devastated from where Eddie is standing, eyes wide and wet, cheeks red, hair disheveled (but still goddamn pretty. How is that even fair?).

“You, uh… You okay?” Eddie tries, feeling a little lame in the attempt.

“Yeah,” Steve snaps, running a hand down over his face again. “I’m fine.”

Clearly.

“Did you come here with someone?” Eddie asks. “Like… someone I can go get?”

“What? I’m not drunk or anything, man, I’m fine,” Steve huffs, leaning back against the tree he’d been half-hidden behind, shoulders still slumped.

“No, yeah, I just – like, whatever’s going on with you, I figured maybe a friend would be… better,” Eddie says, waving a hand vaguely at Steve, who scoffs at him. “Wait– Wheeler. You came with her, didn’t you?”

That doesn’t get an answer – not a verbal one, anyway. All Steve does is sniffle and glance away.

“Ah,” Eddie finds himself nodding, speaking before he can stop himself, “trouble in paradise?”

Steve scoffs again. “You know what?” he asks harshly. “When your girlfriend says you’re bullshit, and that your love is bullshit, and blames you for her friend dying, you start to think that maybe there was no paradise to begin with.”

Eddie blinks. That’s a lot to process. “I thought Holland ran away?” he asks after a moment, because apparently that’s the thing to focus on.

“Right. Ran away,” Steve spits out, and that’s – hm.

What do you know that I don’t, Steve Harrington? Eddie wonders.

He doesn’t ask, of course, because nosy as he is, Eddie also has a healthily developed sense of self preservation, and this seems like the sort of thing he shouldn’t be prying into.

“That’s kinda fucked up, man,” he says instead. “She seriously accuse you of that?”

Steve shrugs, says nothing, but still looks miserable enough that Eddie would believe it. Whatever went down between Steve and Nancy had clearly been a hell of a mess. He isn’t entirely sure why he cares (his persistent soft spot for strays is honestly a bitch sometimes), but he finds he doesn’t want to leave Steve like this, depressed and alone in the woods on Halloween.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws his pack of cigarettes, shaking two out into his hand. Steve tenses when Eddie takes a few steps closer, but the only thing Eddie does is offer him a cigarette. There’s a moment of confused staring, eyes flicking between Eddie’s face and the cigarette in his hand, but eventually Steve reaches out to take it.

Eddie takes a chance, leaning in a little closer to offer him a light, and Steve takes it, the warmth of his face near Eddie’s cupped palm feeling almost as strong as the flame from the lighter.

Eddie drops his hand as soon as the cigarette is lit. He needs to get a grip. He lights his own cigarette and takes a drag.

“Thanks,” Steve croaks once he’s blown out his first breath of smoke.

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie replies.

They smoke in silence for a minute, watching the backlit figures of drunken teenagers churn in and out of the house before them.

“Maybe she’s right,” Steve finally says.

“Hm?” Eddie glances over at him, but Steve is glaring at the ground.

“Love,” Steve sneers. “Maybe it’s really just bullshit.”

And something about that just hits Eddie wrong. Maybe he’s never believed in love, as such—not the way it’s described in poetry or sung about in ballads or written about in shlocky romance novels—but Steve clearly does. Anyone who’s been around him and Nancy for more than a minute in the last year could see that. For it to be otherwise feels like it goes against the natural order.

“Nah,” Eddie says. “Love is out there, man. The real shit, y’know? Stuff worth fighting for.”

Steve lets out a little snort, more amused than derisive, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. “You’re not a romantic, Munson,” he says, so sure of himself – which is fair.

“Oh, I’m a cynic through and through, baby,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve gives him a little laugh. “But you – you’re a romantic. You don’t really believe that love is bullshit. And you shouldn’t.”

Subsiding, Steve leans back against his tree, taking another drag of his cigarette like he’s stalling for time. “Why do you care what I believe?” he finally asks.

Eddie shrugs. “The world needs people like you. Romantics. Dreamers. You keep people like us pessimists from collapsing beneath the weight of our own dark souls.”

“What?” Steve coughs out, really laughing this time, and Eddie smiles right along with him.

“Just saying,” he offers.

Steve shakes his head. “Okay, drama kid. And I’m guessing people like you – what? Help people like me keep our feet on the ground?”

“Sure,” Eddie says. “Everyone needs a rock now and then. A nice solid foundation to start from.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, finishing off his cigarette as Eddie does the same. “Well – you’re, uh. You’re a pretty good rock, Eddie. Thanks.”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie says, pretending that the weird little compliment hadn’t made him light up just a bit. “Don’t mention it.”

And Steve doesn’t, but the smile he gives Eddie – well. What’s something else.

[shuenkio]

Lover Demon — 제이크

Paring: Jake!Demon X M!reader

Synopsis: Summon the wrong type of demon consequences with something you never thought would ever happen.

Genre: Smut without plot. Cw: curse, smau.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

Witchcraft is a quiet, curious thing—something that seems to catch only your eye. In a world so full of technology and science, there’s little space left for whispered stories, magic, or the old myths that once felt so real. Those tales have grown faint over time, gently brushed aside by facts and reason, leaving behind a world that’s slowly forgotten how to dream.

Yet you can’t help but gather books on witchcraft—magic, power, rituals, spells, summoning—anything that catches your curiosity, even if most of them are likely just clever tricks for profit. But that doesn’t really matter. It’s enough to quiet your mind, to feel that familiar comfort in studying, in learning about the things that draw you in, no matter how unreal they might seem to others.

The sun sank below the horizon, leaving the sky to rest as a radiant full moon took its place, flooding the earth with silver light. It was the perfect night—the kind you’d been waiting for. Months of study led to this moment, the chance to perform a ritual, to summon a demon that haunted your thoughts. Wishes you’d longed for danced on the edge of possibility. Whether the books were lies or truth didn’t matter. It was worth the risk.

Behind your grandparents’ backyard, surrounded by trees that whispered in the night breeze, lay the perfect place for this ritual. Hidden from prying eyes and safe from interruption, it was the ideal spot to summon the demon that had lingered in your thoughts. Under the full moon’s watchful gaze, the air felt heavy with possibility.

“Finally, I’ve been SUMMONED—” the demon stretched, his body cracking with a sound that echoed through the small, broken-down house. He sighed, clearly relieved to be back in the human world. His glowing eyes scanned the room before landing on you. He blinked, his expression shifting from smug to surprised. “Wait... you’re a guy?” he asked, pointing at you with one sharp claw.

You stood there, clutching the book to your chest, heart pounding as you stared at the towering figure. His horns nearly brushed the ceiling, and his presence filled the room with an aura that made it hard to breathe. You swallowed hard but forced yourself to stand tall. Clearing your throat, you tried to keep your voice steady. “What’s wrong with being a boy?” You scoffed, turning your nose up just a little. “You know damn well you can’t do anything to me since I’m the one who summoned you.” You tried to sound confident, hoping he couldn’t see how your hands were trembling just a bit.

The demon looked at you for a long moment before rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. So what do you want? Must be something big if you went through all that trouble.” He crossed his arms, his muscles flexing under his dark skin. “Just so you know, my name’s Jake, and I’m the Demon of Love.” He paused, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I know it doesn’t sound all that terrifying, but it’s not what you think. I’m no damn cupid.”

You stared at him, your mind blanking for a moment. Demon of... Love? Your stomach sank as the realization hit you. You’d summoned the wrong demon.

“Uh... hey, so... I think I made a mistake summoning you,” you started, your voice wavering as you tried to keep your composure. “I was... actually looking for a wish demon, not... um... a love demon.” You could feel your face heating up with embarrassment. “So... can you, like... go back by yourself? Or do I have to, uh, do another ritual or something?”

Jake’s glowing red eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable as he stared at you. For a moment, you were convinced he was either furious or just incredibly disappointed, but then he let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Of course. Should’ve known. A rookie,” he muttered, his voice echoing with that eerie double-tone that made your skin crawl.

He crossed his arms, his massive form leaning against the crumbling wall. “You humans never read the fine print, do you?” His eyes roamed over you, lingering just long enough to make you uncomfortable. “Alright, since you’re... kind of handsome and clearly clueless, I’ll tell you the truth. There’s only one way to send me back.”

You waited, holding your breath.

“Mating,” Jake said lazily, as if he were discussing the weather. “Since you’re my summoner, we’d have to... you know, perform a ritual of love. It’s my rule.”

Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, you forgot how to speak. “W-What?” you finally managed, voice cracking in disbelief. “You’re kidding... right?”

Jake just smirked, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Hey, don’t blame me. You summoned the Demon of Love. What did you expect?”

////

Right on the spot, your body was naked where your clothes had been torn into pieces by the love demon. The moment you couldn't even take time to react, that was when it changes to the state that you're in right now, completely butt out and length kiss the cold air. However that's just the beginning, The love demon— shape shift himself into the human version of his, in order to intimate the rule he just spit, for a better saying was to FUCK Jake to send him back.

A flash red light flickering, before Jake stands proud in front of you with his exposed flesh. His build masculine body makes you question whether this is a reward or a punishment? Not to mention in detail was that— even though Jake was a demon, he understood the human need... A bit all too well for how lustful they are in bed, and he isn't any better from humans, Jake likes it more than they ever would.

The 12 inches cock hanging between his legs, the balls are covered in a heavy skin stretching like a cauliflower. Jake's tense thighs only to fuel your desire to just kneel right there before him and begging for his to fuck your brain out of you.

Yet you made no move. In a blink of an eyes you find yourself on the red comfortable mistress to the unknown, the dark absorbed any surrounded which all you see is blank plain ancient walls around.

Jake wastes no time before Lough into your smaller frame which caused you to yelp in a surprise manner. As your back hits the cold bed before his hip enters your closet personal space. Your groin of course. The demon itself tends to know a lot of people's daily life and stuff, nevertheless he doesn't know how to kiss, to intimate more sexual love making, to bond more yet all he knows was to mate and fuck, that's all he's good at.

"If you dare to PUSH me off right now darling, I'll be forever stuck here with you for a century, and boy—I do not care if you have a manhood to make children, i fuck whoever summon ME!" Cool sweat dripping down on your forehead, with a shriek were heard inside the chamber once Jake's enormous largely cock entered the tightness of yours.

For once in his whole life— Jake could finally find pleasure for the first time in humans, resulting in him throwing his head back, goosebumps running down in his vein as his both reds glow eyes disappear into white. The pleasure of his cock burying the inside of your hole alone already turning Jake into a wild animal.

"Holy Demon— mhmm why is it SAUR GOOD I fucking love it, need to BREED with my fucking FERTILIZER SEED ARG" The demon shriek to the undeniable lust he felt in this moment, his growling alluring through your ear drum.

"Unghh... fuck! So goddamn tight...!"

Your eyes turn white of the intense pleasure, my ass hole is too taunt better than a vice, make him fold into two even though he was pounding me just like demon possessed. It was too much for us yet it was too overstimulated for Jake, to hold on to the point he needed something to hold on.

The taller frame grunts and pants harshly, sweat beading on his brow as he struggles to maintain his relentless pace, your incredibly tight hole clenching and fluttering around his pistoning cock like a silken vise. "Shit... M/n... your fucking ass... it's too goddamn tight!"

He snarls through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

His hips slap against your ass with brutal force, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room along with his animalistic grunts and groans. The couch creaks and shakes beneath you with the force of his thrusts, threatening to topple over.

Jake leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he tries to find some semblance of stability. His hot, ragged breaths fall against your neck and ear, his lips latching onto your skin to bite and suck. He's quickly losing himself in the tight, wet heat engulfing his cock, his movements becoming more erratic and desperate.

Suddenly, he hilts inside you, grinding his pelvis flush against your ass, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your taint. He stays there for a moment, just savoring the feeling of being completely sheathed in your clenching channel before he starts rolling his hips, stirring his thick cock around inside you.

His hand snakes around your body, grasping your own weeping erection, squeezing and stroking it in time with his relentless thrusts. "Unghh... fuck... I can feel every throb, every twitch of this greedy little cunt... like it's sucking me in fucking deeper...!" Whimpers sniff painted his face, he's absolutely destroying himself.

He changes the angle of his thrusts slightly, aiming straight for that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. With each snap of his hips, he grinds against that spot, determined to make you fall apart on his cock.

The pressure builds rapidly in his heavy, churning balls as he chases his pleasure, his strokes becoming shorter and sharper, his grip on your hips tightening. He's getting close... too fucking close. But he won't stop, not until he's pumped every last drop of his hot, thick seed deep into your guts.

His hips slap against your ass with brutal force, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room along with his animalistic grunts and groans. The bed creaks and shakes beneath you with the force of his thrusts, threatening to topple over.

Jake collapses heavily against your back, his entire body shaking and twitching with the force of his intense orgasm. A guttural, almost feral roar tears from his throat as he empties his aching, overstimulated balls deep inside you, painting your inner walls white with thick ropes of his scalding cum.

His cock jerks and pulses wildly as it pumps what feels like an endless stream of jizz into your spasming hole, the sheer volume of it causing some to leak out around his shaft and drip down onto the couch. He grinds against you, making sure to push his load in as deep as it can go, marking your insides with his essence.

But the overwhelming sensations and the intense pleasure pushing him over the edge also have an unintended consequence. As he's lost in the throes of his release, feeling your body clench and milk his spurting cock, he loses control of another bodily function. A warm, unfamiliar sensation rushes through his shaft, and suddenly, he feels a strong, forceful stream of piss erupting from his cock, mixing with the thick cum already flooding your ass.

Panic rises in his chest as he realizes what's happening, but he's too far gone, too consumed by the all-encompassing pleasure radiating from his core. He can only let out choked, strangled groans as he continues to empty his overstimulated body into yours, the heat of his piss momentarily startling you, even as it washes away the excess cum.

After what feels like an eternity, his release finally starts to taper off, leaving him slumped against your back, both of you coated in sweat and the remnants of his spending. His softening cock, still buried deep inside your cream-filled hole, gives a few last weak pulses, a few last drops of piss and cum dribbling lazily into you.

The man remains in place, his entire body heavy and sated, his breathing slowly returning to a somewhat normal pace after the intense workout. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin, a rare moment of gentle intimacy. He's utterly spent, but a part of him is still marveling at the incredible tightness of your body, the way it took everything he had to give and then some.

"cum... It's coming...."

Jake could feels the hot spurts of your release splattering against his fingers and your stomach, mixed with the sweat and other fluids already covering both of your bodies. A slow, satisfied smirk spreads across his face, his chest rumbling with a deep, approving groan. "Heh... that's it, M/n... come for me just like the needy little slut you are. I can feel you fucking soaking my hand with it...— I guess I won't fucking leave this human world you're now forever mine— My you"

The slave mark appears on your lower tummy.

A/n: Some part might be confused so I'll left into your imagination. This was inspired by bff of mine— from my famous friend @angelsfat3

Funtalk: Dare to get rail by demon Jake?