#and that's all he had to work with. for so long.

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ my nerdy boy

pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader synopsis: all about nerd!rafe and his popular, secretly pervy girlfriend ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა warnings: smut, masturbation (f), implied virgin!rafe, MDNI! wc: 500 a/n; this is the first rafe fic on this account that isn't a repost! anyway lmk if you want to read more about them, this was sort of a 'morning thoughts' kinda post i wrote within an hour of waking up ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

when you first met rafe, he was tutoring you for math and the moment you saw him, you thought he looked downright edible in his little specs and his slicked-back hair. he wore baggy hoodies and sweatshirts adorned with your college's name, but one time, you grabbed his bicep to 'steady yourself' (to feel him up) and you felt the hard planes of muscles hidden under his clothes that immediately gave you filthy thoughts.

from then on, you'd do anything to see that pretty blush that'd sometimes grace his defined cheeks, and it wasn't even a difficult thing to achieve. really, most of the time calling him cute was enough to get him turning as bright as a tomato.

you always wore something low-cut and tight to your tutoring sessions, biting down on your lip and shamelessly pushing your cleavage together as you pretended to listen to him explain statistics, your panties getting wetter and wetter the more and more he stumbled with his words.

when he finally gathered enough courage to ask you out on a date, you took him to see a movie, keeping your arm around his shoulders the entirety of the movie, until the final thirty minutes when you pretended to stretch and yawn, moving your hand to rest on his thigh.

rafe stiffened in his seat, a bulge starting to form in his jeans that you pretended not to notice, all the while drawing hearts on the inside of his thigh with your long, pretty nails.

when you two finally started going out officially, you could tell that he didn't have much experience with relationships, his kisses were clumsy and he kept apologizing if he was 'doing it wrong' and you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

the first time he let you into his dorm room, it was like his personality had been transformed into a bedroom. when he slipped off into the bathroom, you rolled around in his sheets, smelling his shampoo on his pillow, your hand going to rub yourself over your leggings.

you giggled when you saw all the different boxer shorts neatly arranged in his drawer, grabbing a blue plaid pair and slipping them into your bag.

later that night, you called him, wearing his boxer shorts, your arousal soaking them the moment you put them on. he answered in a groggy voice that caused another pang of arousal to go through your body. he'd been up late doing homework, explaining the subject of his essay while you simply 'mmhm'ed and 'oh?'ed at everything the boy said, too busy rubbing yourself to pay any real attention.

you were looking at a picture that you'd secretly taken of him as you worked yourself closer and closer, picturing his hand was the one getting you off, thinking about what it'd be like to jerk him off with your favorite strawberry-scented lotion.

when you finally felt your orgasm rock through you, you bit down on your pillow to muffle the moans and the 'nngh!'s that escaped you.

and for the next ten-or-so minutes, you just listened to him rant about his classes, your hand still in his boxer shorts, a satisfied smile on your lips, thinking of all the ways in which you wanted to defile his innocence.

[nothatsmi]

The Kings men, chapter four

Okay i'm literally shaking posting this, i've been working on it for days i lost all objectivity about it.

Someone requested this scene when I asked for recommendations on an older post, so this is tkm chapter four:

"Andrew sprawled on the couch in the lounge while Kevin went ahead to change out. Neil hesitated, changed his mind and started after Kevin, and changed his mind again. He stood behind the couch, folding his arms across the back of it, and peered down at Andrew. Andrew had one arm folded under his head and the other draped over his eyes to block the light. 'One of these days you might as well practice with us,' Neil said."

This scene is so long I had to cut some parts (including the incredible "You let us run ourselves into the ground and clean up behind us. You play the game like you play life. That's why you're so good at it.").

Not to mention Andrew's height fear, one of my all-time favorite aftg quotes ("When you said you were afraid of heights, you were joking, right?" "Andrew, you can't be. What were you doing on the roof?" "Feeling." -tkm ch.5).

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no��� g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 2

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. my sincerest apologies for not putting this in the warnings at first. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. sorry bubs. swearing. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4k

Chapter 1 Master List

“You didn’t have to walk me home, you know. It’s only a few blocks.” You tell Max as you press into his side, shivering against the cold breeze of the Monaco night. It had been warm when you left the apartment earlier that evening but now the air held a chill that had you wishing you had taken Carles up on his offer to drive you back home. 

Around you, the city buzzes, a hive of activity on a Friday night but the extent of your world consists of only you and Max. 

“Of course I did. It’s late and cold and there was no way you were walking home alone.” 

“Max, we live in Monaco, I’m perfectly safe.” You joke but secretly, you’re glad Max had offered to walk you home. 

You’d never admit it but you liked being around him, his demeanor had always been calming to you and tonight, your nerves were frayed more than usual. It was probably thanks to the whispers you had heard at the gallery, asking not so quietly where Lando was as you walked around and spoke to the guests. He had never showed up and while you were disappointed he hadn’t showed, you weren’t quite surprised either. There had been something in his tone when you left that evening that had anxiety curling your gut before you even stepped out of the apartment. You hated to even think it, but you somewhat suspected he had never planned on showing up to the show at all that night but you wouldn’t ever put a voice to those thoughts.   

“Fine then.” Max huffs, but there’s no venom in his voice. “Maybe I just wanted to spend some extra time with you, okay? I feel like we never see each other anymore.” Max lets the unsaid end of that sentence hang in the air: ‘Because you’re with Lando now.’  

Your heart aches at the truth of his words. A lot of your friendships had taken a hit over the last three years. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, but your circle had shrunk significantly since you had started dating Lando and it shocked you how you never had realized it until now. It had started small, with Lando saying he just wanted to spend the weekend only with you while he had a rare weekend off and then slowly morphed into him only wanting to spend time with his friends so if you wanted to see him you had to spend what little time you got with him with his friends as well. Slowly, your friends stopped calling and inviting you places because the answer was always the same: ‘sorry, Lando has plans this weekend and I’m going to tag along with him!’ Or just a straight up ‘no, not this time.’ 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, biting your lip as guilt creeps up your neck. “It’s been a rough year.” 

Max hates the regret that courses through him. He shouldn’t make you feel like this, shouldn’t voice his opinion of what he sees happening in front of him. He can’t help the frustration that bubbles to the surface when you talk like that though. He knows exactly where it comes from and it kills Max knowing that there is one person solely responsible for dimming that sparkle you’ve always had. 

Max stops in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a few tourists to shout in surprise when they have to dodge the Dutchman’s tall frame. A frown finds itself onto his face as he looks down at you. Your heart stutters to a stop, you’ve seen this look before and it has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. 

“I hate when you do that.” He can’t help himself, he’s kept his peace for far too long but the fact that  Lando missed tonights show has been burning a hole in his chest all night and the embers were about to flare to life. 

Panic squeezes at your chest. Around you, people are shooting glances your way as you both stand in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. You only have a few moments before someone notices it is you and Max Verstappen and start taking pictures. Pictures that will inevitably show up on some gossip instagram account and cause you more trouble than they’re worth. 

“Do what?” Despite your desire to not be seen arguing with Max, you can’t help the question that slips out. 

“When you apologize for things that aren’t your fault. Anyone with eyes can see who the problem is in your relationship and it’s not you, Dovie.” Max’s words come out more harsher than they intend and he knows he’s approaching a line that probably shouldn’t be crossed tonight. 

You can’t bring your eyes up to meet Max’s heated gaze but you can feel him looking at you. Those blue eyes you used to think you could get lost in when you were younger. Before everything changed. Before you met Lando and he swept you right off your feet. 

“Charles told me about the apartment.” Max confesses. Maybe if you know you have others supporting your decision to leave, it’ll make it easier. He hopes that his support would mean something to you.

Your stomach plummets to your toes, cheeks burning red with shame. “Charles should keep his big mouth shut.” You bite out, fists working themselves into a ball at your sides. 

Max’s eyes narrow at your outburst. There was the fire that you’d been missing. Something in Max heaves a sigh of relief, you’re still in there. You’re on the cusp of getting that fire back and Max can almost see you reach for it deep in the pit of your belly. You’re so close to the edge and Max knows you well enough to know when to back off.  

“I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I won’t press. I just wanted you to know that I miss you.” 

Max momentarily wonders if he’s gone too far when he sees tears well up in your eyes. His heart squeezes at the thought of being the one to make you cry. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” You sob, no longer caring who sees you or what could possibly make it back to Lando. “I know you’re friends with him and I shouldn’t put you in the middle of our mess.” 

Max’s brows knit together in confusion. The fact that you would question his loyalty to you over Lando simply baffles him. “I’ve been in your life longer than I’ve known Lando and you’ll be in my life long after he’s gone.” Max lets that last sentence hang in the air, the prophecy of his words clinging to your skin. 

“Max.” You whisper, floored by the fierceness of his tone and the sincerity of his words. 

Panic claws at him. He’s gone too far, revealed too much. He can’t do that with you now, not when you’re already so fragile. You don’t need that from him and he knows it. Back off, something in him orders and alarm bells clang to life. 

“All I’m saying is,” Max keeps his tone deliberately light. “If you need a friend to talk to, I’m here. Always.” 

You nod, appreciating how he backed off when he saw you panicking. 

Max takes your elbow before turning you around, pointing you in the direction of your apartment. “Come on, let’s get you home, okay?” 

As Max walks you the rest of the way home, Lando is still set up in his gaming room playing Tarkov with Max on his stream. As they begin another raid, Lando notices Max’s stream start to pick up at a much faster pace than it’s been running all evening. He’s been streaming for hours now, since before you left the apartment and while he knows the opening should be wrapping up right about now, he has a hard time caring. Those things are always so boring and he never understands the art, even if it is nice to be photographed out with you and your brothers. 

“What is this link everyone’s spamming chat? You all know if you start spamming, we’re going to mute you.” Max asks, frustration evident in his voice. 

Lando glances over at the chat screen on his second monitor and sees his name flying by along with what looks like an instagram link. He knows he shouldn’t click on dodgy links but curiosity gets the best of him because at the same time the chat starts to explode, so do his notifications from Instagram. “The fuck?” He mumbles, ignoring Max who is reading the chat as they come in. 

“First Verstappen steals your championship, now he’s stealing your girl? Chat, what the fuck are you all on about?” 

Lando can feel the heat rising in his face and he’s instantly thankful that he’s got his video off. He mutes himself quickly too before texting Max, who is desperately trying to regain control of the chat. The link finally opens and Lando nearly drops his phone. He’s been tagged in a series of photos that show you and Max walking out of the gallery together, then you two stopped in the middle of the sidewalk embracing with you clearly looking upset, and then a final one showing you two walking away together. 

Anger flares bright and sharp in his chest as he looks at the photos. You’re making him look like a fool, galavanting around town with the likes of Max Verstappen late at night, especially after all he went thorough with Max last season. What the fuck were you thinking?

“Alright, chat I think that’s going to be the end of the stream tonight. This is why we can’t have nice things!” 

Max ends the stream without a second thought, knowing that Lando is going to be incandescent with rage after seeing those photos and reading all the comments. 

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source First he steals the championship, now it looks like Max Verstappen is making a play for @/lando's girl. Uh ooooooh... user9928 I mean, she looked pretty upset in the other pictures I saw leaving the gallery. Lando didn't show to support her so... user298 paddock bunnies gonna bunny >>>user223 she's literally known Max almost her entire life??? user110 this isn't a thing...her and Max have been friends for YEARS. Leave the poor girl alone user1008 lando's loss, she's amazing. user918 idk but if my girl got caught getting a kiss from another guy, I'd go scorched earth >>>user028 SERIOUSLY I am floored by the people defending her??? Like??? >>>user928 maybe if Lando showed up for his girlfriend, Max wouldn't have had to step in and comfort her...?

As Lando struggles to come to grips with what he just saw, you and Max are standing in the lobby of your apartment as you desperately search for your keys. “Fuck, I think I forgot my keys upstairs.” 

“Just give Lando a call, I’m sure he’s still up.” 

You shrug, cheeks heating. “He sometimes gets tunnel vision when he’s streaming and forgets to check his phone.” You admit, not wanting to go more into detail because you know how bad it’ll sound if you have to tell Max that sometimes Lando will completely ignore you while he’s streaming. What you also don’t tell him is that this has happened to you before and all three times, you’d had to spend the night at either Jade or Charles’ house because he had been on stream so late you had nearly fallen asleep in the hallway. 

Max levels a glare at you, unable to believe what you’re saying. “Well, lets both go up then and maybe we can get his attention by knocking.” 

Anxiety ripples through you as Max starts off towards the elevators, giving you no other choice but to follow him. It’s a quiet ride up to your floor as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, unable to even attempt to make small talk with Max. You know the facade of your entire relationship is about to be lifted right in front of one of your oldest friends and you don’t quite know how to make it stop. 

When you raise your hand to knock, your heart hammers in your chest so wildly you momentarily worry Max is going to be concerned for your health. Much to your surprise, it only takes a few short moments for the door to swing open so fast you nearly stumble back. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Lando spits when his eyes land on Max. The venom in his voice is so shocking you need to take a step away, unintentionally stepping closer to Max, which seems to set Lando off even more. Rage flares in his eyes at your proximity to his on-track rival. 

“That’s a wild way to say ‘hey man, thanks for walking my girlfriend home in the dark because I couldn’t be bothered to show up to her art show’ but you’re welcome.” Max grits out, taking one step closer to you as if he might need to get between you and Lando. 

Tension hangs thick between the three of you as Lando seethes where he stands in the door. 

“Max, it’s okay.” You whisper, shame lighting a painful spark of fire deep in your chest. This was going to get out of control so quickly. 

“No, it’s not and you know it.” Max turns back to Lando now, eyes blazing with a level of anger that is miles more intense than the look Lando is giving you. “And why the fuck are you coming at her so hot? All I did was walk her home.” 

Lando scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Because this was just posted by almost a dozen gossip accounts and was being spammed all over Fewtrell’s chat while we were streaming.” 

You take the phone Lando is brandishing in your face and go pale. The carousel of photos in the new post are pretty damning, you have to admit but you would have thought that your boyfriend of all people would know better than to blindly believe a series of grainy photos above trusting his own girlfriend. 

“Lando…” You sooth, arm reaching out to touch his elbow. You wince when he pulls away from you. “You of all people should know how those things are twisted. Max was just walking me home and we were talking, that’s it.” 

“But why was he hugging you?” He shows you the third picture of Max hugging you after you had started crying out on the street. You had to admit you were kind of impressed with how fast those photos got out, but it was Monaco after all and you hand’t exactly been discreet when you were upset with Max. 

“Because she was upset you didn’t show up for her. Again!” Max shouts and you flinch.

 The words slice a fresh wound across your heart. The fact that Max knew that this wasn’t the first time upsets you more than you think it should. You’re not entirely sure why Max’s opinion of you matters so much but you’re not quite willing to examine those feelings yet. 

Lando’s glare swings away from you and back onto Max. “Because I’ve been to a million of them and they’re all the same. Same pretentious people pretending they have taste. Once you’ve been to one you’ve been to them all.” 

The words that come out of your boyfriend’s mouth have you audibly gasping, hand flying to your throat. “Lando.” You whisper, pain and shock coursing through your voice. 

You swear you feel a brush of fingertips on the small of your back but the touch is so light and so quick you think you’ve imagined it. 

Something flickers behind your boyfriend’s eyes then and it’s almost like he realizes he’s gone a step too far. His shoulders sag and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry baby.” Lando reaches for you and before you can step away, he pulls you into his chest. He doesn’t miss the way you stiffen in his embrace though and neither does Max. “Please come inside and we can talk about it alone, okay?” He whispers, glaring at Max, clearly dismissing him. 

The way his arms used to feel around you was comforting, you’d seek his affection when you were anxious or upset and he would always take care of you but somewhere along the line, the affection you craved stopped being handed out so easily. Now, you craved it but only because if he was touching you it meant he wasn’t mad at you and maybe this time it would be different. Every time he showed you this kind of affection you hoped that this would be the time he would change. 

It never was. 

“Thank you for walking me home, Max. I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” 

Worry lines crease the spot between his brows as he frowns. Everything in his body is screaming to put up a fight and not let you go inside with Lando. He knows if Charles were here and had just witnessed what he had, there was no way Lando would be leaving this building in anything other than a body bag but he wasn’t Charles and he didn’t have any entitlement to you. He wanted to fight but you weren’t his to fight for. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay Dovie?” 

Lando’s arms tighten around you at the nickname. He hates it and Max knows it. “She won’t need to, I’ve got her.” 

“You sure about that, mate?” Max asks, one brow tipping up in question. 

Without waiting for a reply, Max turns on his heel and walks towards the elevator. In his pocket, his fingers curl around his phone because the moment he gets out of the building he knows exactly who he’s going to be calling: Charles. 

As soon as Max leaves and your behind closed doors, the mask slips again. 

“What the fuck were you thinking, walking home with Max fucking Verstappen? And hugging him?” Lando is pacing the floor of your living room as you stand there, helpless to say anything against his raging. 

It’s usually like this when he gets angry with you and you’ve gotten good at being quiet while he rages. You have to let him work out all the anger and eventually you know he’ll calm down and apologizes for losing his temper. You’ve seen this before and you know exactly what to do, how to humor the angry beast that has surfaced once again. 

“Lando, it wasn’t like that and you know it.” You fight to keep the exasperation out of your voice, knowing that would just set him off even more. “I was alone, my brothers were going in the opposite direction, and Max offered. That’s it! It was completely innocent.” Despite yourself, you try to reason with him.

“You should have just gone home with your brothers then instead of putting yourself in that position.” He snaps and you glare at him. 

“You would have rather me not slept here at home tonight than take an offer from a friend to walk me home? All because you didn’t follow through with what you said you’d do?” 

You know you’re pushing him and Lando doesn’t like to be pushed. Your conversation with Charles two weeks ago flickers through your mind. How you deserve better and it strikes you then that everyone but you can see it. Everyone around you, everyone that loves you can see how bad he is for you, how poorly he treats you and how much you’ve changed since you started dating him. 

You supposed that if you had changed for the better, maybe everyone who loved you wouldn’t have anything to say. Don’t people change for the people they love all the time? You were sure they did but you weren’t sure you liked the change you saw in yourself anymore. You couldn’t fight it, this change that felt like you were wearing shoes that were three sizes too small for your feet. Like you had outgrown yourself in a way that wasn’t okay and you somehow needed to find your way back to who you were before Lando. Before he broke you. 

“And avoid you causing social media chaos that I’m going to be dealing with for weeks now?” Lando sneers, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down his nose at you. “Yeah, absolutely.” 

You laugh, cold and bitter, as you shake your head. “Thats real nice Lan, real nice.” 

“I’m just saying. Now the rumor mills are going to start up again. Whenever you’re at a race, people will be watching to see if you’re with Max again. Or maybe next time it’ll be Lewis. Or maybe you want to go a bit younger? Get a ‘friendly escort home’ from one of the rookies? I’m sure Franco would love to try his hand with you. My girlfriend, the paddock bunny being passed around.” 

The ache in your chest grows as he chooses his words carefully, barbed and sharp as glass, so they hit their intending target, cutting through you like butter and causing mortal damage.

“You don’t have to be so mean.” You whisper. “I’m sorry that the pictures hurt your feelings and were taken out of context but you don’t have to be so mean.” 

Tears threaten to spill and you will them to stop, knowing that will only fuel Lando’s fire. He loves when he upsets you like this, when he gets to tell you what a drama queen you are. Just like your brother, he would say, always whining and crying on the radio about how Carlos wasn’t being a team player and letting him win when he didn’t deserve it. 

“If I’m not the one to give you a reality check, then who will? Your entire family has coddled you for your entire life and you think you deserve some level of respect that you haven’t earned. If you deserved that kind of respect, you would have gone home with your brothers or walked home alone. People who deserve respect don’t put their relationships in jeopardy because they’re afraid to be alone at night.” 

“Put our relationship in jeopardy?” You laugh again, rolling your eyes at the audacity of what Lando is saying. “Lan, you really are being a bit over dramatic here, don’t you think? I’m sure the PR department at McLaren will take care of this by the next race, no big deal.” 

Lando laughs, dark and bitter as he takes a step towards you. You have to fight the urge not to flinch when he gets closer to you. Deep down, you know he’d never raise a hand to you but it’s hard to remember that when he gets in your face like this. “Now you expect McLaren to clean up your mess?” He hisses. “God, you really are a spoiled little girl, aren’t you?” 

“I’m just trying to find a solution to the problem that I seem to have caused.” You snap back, courage flaring in your chest as you stand up a little straighter. Max’s words from earlier play back in your head: ‘anyone with eyes can see who the problem is in your relationship’. “What if I come to the next race? If the two of us turn up in the paddock together, that will help quiet the rumors, don’t you think?” 

Lando narrows his eyes, “So you can get more attention from Max? Absolutely not. I’ll have McLaren handle this, okay? Just forget about it.” 

You want to scream at his solution because it was the same exact thing you had literally just suggested and been laughed at. But that was the way Lando was. If it wasn’t his idea, it was the worst thing you could have suggested. As long as it was his idea though, it was brilliant and the perfect solution to everything that was wrong. You should have anticipated this coming but you knew it was useless to fight with him. 

All at once, your body is overcome with this total wash of exhaustion. Total mental and physical exhaustion grips at your throat and you sway on your feet. “I’m going to go to bed.” You choke you. “In the guest room.” You tack on before turning on your heel and walking away from the fight like you do every time. Lando always gets the last word and as he stands there alone in the living room he feels like he’s won this one. He’ll have to call Sophie in the morning to get her to start working on damage control but for now? For now, he’s sure you realize your mistakes and you won’t put a toe out of line like that for a long time. 

Little does he know that all he’d done tonight was push you past your breaking point. 

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[kermdoeswriting]

That's a new one

Danny could only let out a loud annoyed groan as he heard the clacking of footsteps in the corridor. Beside him, he could hear his advisor CW snort, amused by what was to come alongside Danny's pain and annoyance.

The only way for his floor to even be making a sound was if he was being graced with a human.

It wasn't often that his realm received living visitors, but the ones that usually did enter and that had managed to survive the walk to his domain always had wishes to ask of him.

And they were always human. Never anything interesting or new.

Which was annoying since humans were usually extremely demanding. As well as stubborn in their beliefs.

He would know. He is one on his days off.

They also usually had the same kind of wish.

A wish that they always were so stubborn to believe will work because they had the strength to make it through the underground to ask for it.

A wish that also had genuinely never worked. Not even once since it started!

Damn you Hades for granting the first request to begin with the one time he was on vacation.

The wish to revive a dead loved one and to make it back together to the living.

Most times, Danny would just grant the request without another thought beyond it being under the same rules as the first time, but this idea continuing through the decades was just getting annoying.

The subtle knocking on the throne room door made him sigh again as he waved his hand to allow entry.

"Look," Danny drawled, pinching his nose and not looking up at the visitor who was now in the room facing him.

"If you're about to go on some rant about how you walked all this way, I really really don't care. Just take whatever loved one you came for and walk away."

Whoever had come didn't even respond beyond a shakily taken gasp, and thats when Danny finally ended up looking towards them.

The man in front of him was really cute. He looked up at Danny, wide-eyed, blue eyes filled with some mix of wonder and curiosity.

Whatever hero get-up he was wearing looked ripped and torn to shreds, but somehow, the man was missing any and all cuts and bruises that should have been there.

If Danny was being honest, the guy reminded him of one of those wet cats who looked betrayed after being forced into taking a bath.

Eventually, after a long moment of staring at each other, the guy spoke.

"Um actually-" The man had the audacity to look bashfully towards the throne room floor before returning his gaze to Danny and continuing.

"I kind of came here to see if I could walk you out of the Underworld..?"

Huh

Thats a new one.

_________________________________________

Or basically

Danny is extremely used to people mistakenly entering his realm to pull a Eurydice and Orpheus trick (Hades made an exception ONE TIME during his temporary reign-), he just wasn't expecting someone to come with the intention to get him out of the underworld.

[zephyrchama]

(Based on that one scene from B99)

“Lucifer, your wrist looks kind of funny.”

All eyes turned to the Avatar of Pride when Leviathan pointed this out. They were supposed to be organizing the house library, but it was a long and boring task. One that everyone wanted to finish quickly, yet nobody could find the motivation to make any real progress.

“Oh no! What happened?” Asmodeus leaned over a table to try and steal a peek. Lucifer’s wrist was, indeed, bent in an odd manner. He used his non-dominant hand to shuffle some papers in order.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Asmo!” Mammon jeered. “Back off, leave the guy alone.”

Lucifer ignored his brothers, icy gaze focused on the documents in hand. They were papers that had been misfiled and did not belong in the library. He reminded everyone in the room to “behave yourselves” before disappearing into his office.

Curious eyes followed him until he was truly out of sight. Then, the brothers exchanged fascinated looks. It’s not every day that Lucifer get injured.

“Alright, everybody bring it in. Huddle up.” Mammon ushered everyone to come close with a sweep of his hand. The boys reluctantly formed a loose circle.

“What are you up to now?” Belphegor asked with a sigh. “I want to finish this already.”

Mammon pretended not to hear as he whisper-shouted, “so, he wouldn’t say what happened, which can only mean one thing.”

”He’s in a fight club,” Beelzebub suggested.

“No. He did it doing something he’s embarrassed by.” Satan was quick to catch on to the truth.

Beelzebub followed up with, “oh. Could be a sports injury. I sprained my wrist playing fangol last year.”

“Really? I don’t remember that,” Belphegor said.

Leviathan asked, “you think Lucifer was playing fangol?”

A deep growl suddenly came from the doorway. There was no warning or indication that Lucifer would be back so quickly. Yet, the man in question had returned. His menacing quickly caused the group to shut up.

“I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from my office, but I don’t think it’s relevant to your jobs. The jobs you should all be doing right now. Get to work.”

The brothers scattered like roaches back to their respective corners of the library. All except for Satan, who Lucifer beckoned over with his finger. Satan hesitated at first, but it was better to go along with Lucifer when his mood was sour. The two stepped out for a minute, far enough away that no one else would overhear.

“What?” Satan was fed up with this conversation and it hadn’t even started.

“Do you want to know how I actually hurt my wrist?

Satan’s eyebrows flew up and he took several seconds to think about the question. What an odd offer. There was nothing for Lucifer to gain by telling him this, was there? Though, if he spent too long thinking Lucifer might change his mind and leave his little brother wondering what happened forever. With an oddly docile tone of voice, Satan responded, “...Yes.”

While Satan was busy wondering how to respond, Lucifer had taken out his DDD. He was scrolling through a menu in search of something. “I was hula hooping. Diavolo and I attend a class for fitness and for fun.”

“No way.” Satan's true thoughts leaked out. It was so dumb, it couldn’t be true.

Lucifer raised his phone to Satan’s eye level. The proof was there. ”I’ve mastered all the moves. The pizza toss. The tornado. The scorpion, the oopsie doodle.”

With each and every silly name, Lucifer swiped to a new photo on his phone. There he was, doing the pizza toss. Showing Diavolo how to do the scorpion. Performing a flawless oopsie doodle. Satan was stupefied, his mouth ajar.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because no one…” Lucifer selected all of the images. He tapped on a trash can in the corner of the screen. The images, every last one, disappeared. “…will ever believe you.”

“No!” Satan lunged for the phone in vain. “You sick, twisted, son of a-”

“You got your answer," Lucifer told him. "Get back to work."

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 Positive • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- There are three things you know for certain right now:

You're pregnant.

The father currently has his hands all over some blonde at The Wreck.

According to Topper, you're Rafe Cameron's favorite topic during locker room talk.

warnings -- 18+-mdni, unplanned pregnancy, cursing, angst no happy ending, readers a pouge, fuckboy!rafe (?) toppers a dickhead frl, mention of abortions (once)

main masterlist(s) | taglist | wc: 2.2k

"Fuck." You stare at the positive pregnancy test between your trembling fingers.

"Fuck," you curse again, realizing you're alone in your apartment with this life-changing news.

Of course this would happen.

After months of sneaking around, of heated encounters and promises to keep things casual, one reckless night was all it took. One moment where passion overrode common sense, where neither of you cared about consequences.

A hushed "I want to feel you, all of you," slipped from Rafe's lips as he paused, the condom still on, but his desire for you raw, uninhibited, consuming him. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours, silently asking if you trusted him enough to let go..

How naive you'd been, thinking you could trust Rafe Cameron with something so intimate. The golden boy of the OBX, known for his volatile temper and reckless abandon. The type of man who treats both relationships and speed limits as mere suggestions.

And you'd fallen for those dark cerulean eyes and heated whispers like every other girl before you. Only difference was, you were now staring at the consequences of that trust, watching it turn into two pink lines that would complicate everything.

Your secret hookup.

The trust fund bad boy of the OBX. The same Rafe Cameron who's probably at some country club event right now, charming his way through a crowd of socialites, completely unaware that he's about to become a father.

You can already hear the whispers at the yacht club – the Camerons' golden boy and his latest pouge conquest.

As if sleeping with Rafe Cameron wasn't scandalous enough, now you're carrying the next heir to his family's empire.

"Have you seen Rafe?" you shout at Topper over the pulsing bass of The Wreck's speakers. Your hand instinctively rests on your still-flat stomach – a new nervous habit you've developed since seeing those two pink lines.

Topper takes a swig of his whiskey, looking entirely too amused--and drunk, "Lost track of your boyfriend already?"

"He's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah." He smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Just his favorite little Pogue to fuck behind closed doors, right? You know, he tells us everything in the locker room." He leaned closer, whiskey breath hot against your ear. "About how eager you are, how you beg for it. Though I gotta say, for someone from the cut, you've got quite the reputation among the trust fund crowd now."

Your cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. Of course Rafe would brag about all the girls he's had to his Kook friends. Of course you were just another story for their country club gossip.

"Go fuck yourself, Topper. Where's Rafe?"

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart. We all know you've got a thing for rich boys. Though usually we don't keep Pogues around this long – Rafe must really like something about you." His eyes raked over you suggestively. "Or some things."

The way he says it makes your skin crawl – it's pure Rafe Cameron coming out of Topper's mouth. That same calculated charm, that practiced way of making someone feel simultaneously special and worthless.

You wonder how many hours he spent watching Rafe work his magic at bars, memorizing the exact tone needed to make "sweetheart" sound like an insult. Rich boys and their fucked-up everything.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. "Hey, I'm just messing with you. No need to get your discount panties in a twist." He gestures toward the bar with his glass.

"Last I saw him, he was chatting up some blonde by the bar." Topper continued, "Though, something tells me you've got more on your mind than just another quick fuck in the coat closet."

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" you snap at him, hands clenching into fists.

Your head whips around, scanning the crowded bar area, but there's no sign of Rafe's familiar frame among the sea of drunk socialites.

"He's not there," you mutter, frustration building in your chest.

"What's wrong? Don't have your Kook King on a leash?" Topper calls after you as you push past him toward the exit. "Better hurry – you know how fast Rafe moves on to the next thing!"

You storm out of The Wreck, the humid night air doing nothing to cool your rising anger.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

Here you are, pregnant with his kid, and Rafe Cameron can't even stay in one place long enough to hear the news.

Slumping into your car, you grab your phone, fingers trembling as you pull up his contact. Three rings, voicemail. Again. Four rings, voicemail. Your frustration builds with each failed attempt.

hey, we need to talk

rafe, answer your fucking phone

where are you?

this is important

You watch the messages turn from "delivered" to "read" with no response. Of course he's seeing them. He's probably looking at his phone right now, some blonde draped over his shoulder, both of them laughing at your desperate attempts to reach him.

seriously rafe, this isn't about us. something happened

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You could just text it. Three simple words: I'm pregnant, asshole. But somehow, dropping that bomb over text feels wrong, even for whatever this is between you.

After the tenth unanswered call, you throw your phone onto the passenger seat, fighting back angry tears.

You should have known better than to expect anything different from Rafe Cameron, who treats Pogues like they're as disposable as his designer clothes.

To him, girls from the Cut are just temporary entertainment – something to play with until a more suitable option from his tax bracket comes along.

Your phone buzzes. For a moment, your heart leaps – but it's just another notification that he's read your messages.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you mutter, starting your car with more force than necessary. The engine roars to life, matching your mood.

You consider driving to his place – you know he'll end up there eventually, probably with tonight's blonde in tow. But the thought of waiting outside his house like some desperate ex makes bile rise in your throat.

Your phone buzzes again. This time it's a text:

busy rn. talk tomorrow?

A laugh escapes you, bitter and hollow. Busy. Of course he's busy. He's always busy when it doesn't involve getting into your pants. Your fingers fly across the keyboard before you can stop yourself:

hope she's worth it. btw, might want to start setting aside some trust fund money for child support

You hit send before you can think better of it, immediately regretting it. Your phone explodes with incoming calls – now he wants to talk. But you're already pulling out of the parking lot, vision blurry with unshed tears.

Let him panic for a while. Let him feel a fraction of the anxiety that's been eating at you since you saw those two pink lines.

Besides, if he can't be bothered to give you five minutes when you need him, he can wait until tomorrow to hear how he managed to knock up his favorite Pogue.

You wake up to the sound of coffee brewing – which is impossible because you live alone and definitely didn't set the timer last night. Stumbling out of your bedroom, you freeze in the doorway.

There's Rafe Cameron, looking unfairly good for someone who should be hungover, sitting on your beaten-up futon. His expensive clothes are a stark contrast to your shabby apartment furniture, but somehow he looks like he belongs there.

Between his fingers, he's holding the pregnancy test you'd forgotten to hide in your emotional spiral last night.

"Breaking and entering now?" Your voice comes out shakier than you'd like. "That's low, even for you."

He doesn't look up from the test, but you catch the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "It's not breaking in when I have a key." He finally meets your eyes, holding up the small silver key you'd given him three months ago after that night he'd brought you soup when you were sick. "You know, the one you said was 'just for emergencies'?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. This thing between you had stopped being just hookups somewhere between the late-night conversations and the drawer of his clothes in your dresser. Between him knowing how you take your coffee and you knowing which side of the bed he prefers.

"That's not—" you start, but he cuts you off.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to text it and disappear like you did last night?"

"Oh, like how you disappeared with that blonde? Or should we talk about how you disappear every time after you're done with me, just to go brag to Topper about your latest fuck?"

His face darkens. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Rafe. Your locker room talk is apparently quite entertaining. 'Eager.' 'Begging for it.' Ring any bells?" You wrap your arms around yourself, hating how your voice shakes. "Tell me, do all your Kook friends know how I sound in bed, or is that a special story just for Topper?"

"That's not—"

"Not what? Not what you meant? Not what happened? Because Topper seemed pretty clear about exactly what kind of reputation I have among your trust fund crowd now."

"You really think that's what this is?" He gestures between you. "That I could think of you as just another hookup?"

"Isn't it? I mean, god forbid the Kook King actually care about the Pogue he's fucking—"

"Jesus Christ," he runs his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration. "If this was just about sex, would I have a key? Would I know your coffee order or—"

"You can't use that as some kind of proof you care! Having a key doesn't mean shit when you're out there treating me like your dirty little secret!"

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with months of unspoken hurt. When Rafe finally speaks, his voice is low, controlled: "Is it mine?"

The question hits you like a slap. "Are you seriously—"

"Just answer the question." His eyes are intense, searching yours. "Is it mine?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. He already knows the answer – can read it in the way you can't quite meet his eyes, in how your hand unconsciously drifts to your stomach.

That night without protection wasn't your first together, but it was the first time he'd looked at you like you were something more than just a good time.

Like maybe you could be everything. Now that look is back, mixed with something like fear as the reality of what you're not saying sinks in.

"Those tests—" he starts pacing, running his hands through his hair. "They're not always accurate, you know? Maybe you should take another one. Or three. Fuck, how do you even know for sure?" His voice takes on a desperate edge. "There are… options. I know a clinic in Chapel Hill. Discrete. I could make some calls—"

"You know what?" Your voice comes out quiet, defeated. "Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe this is exactly what I need to finally stop pretending this—" you gesture between you, "—could ever be anything real."

"I'm just saying we need to think about this logically—"

"No," you snap, your voice rising until it bounces off the walls of your tiny apartment. "You're trying to make this disappear, just like everything else that threatens your perfect Figure Eight lifestyle!"

You watch something crack in his expression, that carefully maintained Kook King facade finally showing a glimpse of real emotion. His hand reaches for you, then drops. "Don't—"

"I think you should go." You turn away, unable to look at him anymore. "Use that key one last time to lock up behind you."

You don't need to see his face to know he's struggling with what to say. The perfect Rafe Cameron, for once at a loss for words. It would be funny if it wasn't breaking your heart.

You don't turn around to watch him leave, but you hear the way he hesitates at the door. The silence stretches, filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say. Finally, the door clicks shut, and you're alone again.

Your hand drifts to your stomach, and you let out a bitter laugh. You can do this alone.

You'll move out of the OBX, maybe up to Wilmington where no one knows your name or that you're carrying a Cameron heir. You'll work extra shifts at the restaurant, save every penny.

Your kid won't need trust fund money or a father who treats relationships like they're disposable. Your child won't grow up feeling like some dirty secret.

Somewhere across town, Topper's probably already hearing about how the Pogue girl tried to trap Rafe Cameron with a baby. You can almost hear the yacht club whispers starting. But let them talk – you've survived worse than country club gossip.

(What no one would ever know: how your hands shook as you slid his key under his door later that night, or how he sat in his car outside your apartment for hours, staring at a small velvet box he'd been carrying in his pocket since before you ever said the word "pregnant."

Some love stories aren't meant to have happy endings, and some babies are meant to have just one parent who actually wants them.)

a/n -- thanks for reading, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore @madzig @thatdesigirl17 @drewstarkeysrightarm @seqhyvnz @romantasyreader2024 @luizaelias @rafe-cameronswife @emmavzlsblog @aileenunfiltered @swe3theart-succubus @511rkive @morrrrphin @xcinnamonmalfoyx @obxrafeandjj @rafegf-real @theeternaloptimistt

[chosolar]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

flirty!satoru didn't think much of you when he first met you. yeah you were cute and he saw you often behind the counter at his favourite coffee shop, but you kept to yourself that the only thing he knew about you was your name. next time you hang out with them, he was determined to at least get to know you a little better.

flirty!satoru started asking to go out with only you after a few months, which you weren't suspicious of. suguru had a lot of responsibilities, and shoko was always tired and preferred staying home, so you didn't think much of it when it was only the two of you going out.

flirty!satoru is always paying for you during your "hangouts". satoru will never let you pay for anything because he will always have the provider mindset (what a man).

flirty!satoru hates sharing clothes, even with a close friend like suguru. he's grown up as a spoiled only child so he hates any kind of sharing, but he will never say no to giving you his hoodies!! he is in love with the way his hoodie so is large on you that it basically engulfs you. he just thinks you look so adorable when you wear his sweaters.

flirty!satoru loves sleeping beside you. after a long day, he likes to come over and he doesn't care if it's on the bed or your couch, he loves snuggling up to you and feeling the warmth of your body against him. the first night you slept over at his apartment, you left early in the morning because you felt embarrassed so now satoru wakes up early to prevent you from doing so again.

flirty!satoru enjoys making you flustered IMMENSELY. everytime you hand him the house keys, he'll let his fingers slightly intertwine with yours, imitating hand holding. if you ask him to grab something from the top of the cabinet, he'll cage you in his arms before you get a chance to move out the way and he'll press his body onto your back before handing you the thing you asked him to get. his love language for sure is physical touch.

flirty!satoru who is so physically affectionate with you, it's like he'll die if he's not touching you in any way. he's quite sneaky too, when you're sitting on the couch beside him, he'll do the good ole "yawn and stretch" trick to put his arm over you. when you're watching a scary movie with him, satoru would pretend to be scared to get closer to you and if he's feeling extra bold, he'll hide his face into the crook of your neck, his lips being dangerously close to your skin.

flirty!satoru notices the way you try to take sneaky glances at him when you think he's not looking. he basks in the fact that even though you're not officially together, your eyes are always on him (the same for him about you ofc). sometimes he'll even look back at you and see if you'll continue the eye contact but he knows you'll turn away (he loves doing this because he thinks that it's so cute you can barely hold eye contact with him).

flirty!satoru is speechless when you get clingy with him when you get a couple of drinks in your system. after everyone left satoru's penthouse, you stayed behind, tipsy and unable to even walk straight. he takes a sit beside you on his couch, tilting his head to look at you trying to stay awake. you caught him off-guard when you crawled into his lap, you're situated in between his thighs with your legs crossed on top of his right thigh. you lean your head on his chest, and he instinctively puts his arm around your waist so that you don't fall back. you nestle your head into his chest and muttered, "you smell good".

as shy as you usually are, he wanted to keep seeing you like this. a side of you that only he can see - clingy and more outgoing (also very promiscuous but no one else needs to know).

flirty!satoru takes time out of his busy day to come pick you up when you're off, especially if you're working closing shifts. friends pick each other up all the time, what's the difference? it's not like satoru came all the way from the other side of the city, speeding the entire way, and running a couple of red yellow lights... he just didn't want you to wait for him outside where someone sketchy might come up to you.

after arriving in front your apartment complex, you offered him dinner as a thank you, and there's no way flirty!satoru would ever decline your cooking! after a hearty meal that satoru rates 10/10, he suggests watching this new movie suguru was telling him about.

midway through the movie you end up falling asleep, your head leaning onto the side of his arm. he can tell that you're uncomfortable with the position so he scoots forward on the couch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and having you snuggle up to his arm.

satoru ends up closing the tv soon after and carrying you to your bed. he fixes the hairs that are covering your face and pulls the duvet over you. after ensuring that you're sleeping comfortably, he goes back go the living room to close all the lights when he notices your phone ringing with notifications.

omfg forgot to tell u guys but we finally saw the guy she was talking about 12:35 am

she wasnt lying when she said hes so fine 12:35 am

@[username] pls tell me he has friends 12:36 am

are you guys seeing or what!!! ;) 12:36 am

the groupchat you had with your close friends from work was filled with the coworker who you closed with gushing over satoru. she went on about how he waited for you at the front of the shop, that he opened the door for you, and even introduced himself as a "close friend" of yours (with a wink).

satoru couldn't help but smile at your phone, looking through all the times you've mentioned him to your friends. he writes a quick message to your friends before closing the app. like he came to do, satoru closed the lights all around your apartment then made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep soon after.

flirty!satoru who after that night, becomes more confident in his advances towards you. he's been so affectionate that even suguru and shoko are questioning your relationship. suguru notices that satoru's homescreen is not his fav celebrity, but rather a candid pic of you! he also saw a glimpse of your contact name on the white-haired man's phone. had suguru known better, he would've thought the two of you were already dating.

flirty!satoru was hyping himself up the next week to actually ask you out. he was going all out for you, with a small hike to a cliff that overlooked the skyline of city and there would be a picnic blanket with your favourite foods inside the picnic basket with arrangements of your favourite flowers surrounding the blanket, the whole shabam!

he calls you.

and calls.

and calls.

but you don't answer.

it was getting closer to the time that he needed to be on the way, but you still weren't answering. he was about to leave his penthouse when he received a text from you.

hey satoru I think I need some space right now. I'll text you back when I feel okay, hope you understand. 6:27 pm

and for the first time in his life, flirty!satoru's stomach dropped.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello! this is my first time posting on tumblr and ngl i'm kinda nervous but whateverrrr I have so many wip about the jjk men i need them out of the notes app NEOW this is also not proofread :)

[mandarinmoons]

Dessert

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! reader Summary: Upon finding out that Spencer left his lunch at home reader heads over to The BAU to hand it over to him along with an extra sweet surprise Words: ~ 600 Warnings: None

“Spence, someone’s here to see you!”

Spencer looked up from his paperwork toward the voice that called him. He saw JJ near the doorway with another woman next to her, not a stranger, but someone he knew all too well. It was you.

As his eyebrows furrowed, Spencer stood up and made his way over to you. His work was the last place he expected you to show up, not that he wasn’t happy to see you, but his relationship to you wasn’t something he had mentioned to anyone, not even his mother.

You and Spencer had only been dating for a few months and with everything going extremely well during that time he still hadn’t told anyone on the team about you, and why should he? Spencer was a fairly private person and with how demanding and dangerous his job could be he didn’t want to open the door of horrors to you to keep you safe, to not scare you away. Everything was still so new, the highs of the honeymoon phase were still felt by the both of you and with Spencer’s life going down the way that it has, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. He needed a break from everything, as anyone else does, and being in your arms was his escape.

“Y/N, what’re you doing here?”

You chuckled as you held up a tupperware container to Spencer’s face, his confusion turning to realization in an instant.

“You forgot your lunch. I thought that I’d bring it over.”

Spencer cleared his throat and took the container in his hands, his eyes falling to the floor as he felt his teammates glance over at you both from across the bullpen. He felt his cheeks heat up and it was evident that he wasn’t going to be able to keep his sweet little secret under the wraps. With the room being filled with profilers, everyone was bound to know what role you played in Spencer’s life.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Spencer’s lips were quick to turn into a small smile when he heard you chuckle and the smile grew wider when you took him in for a hug. Hugs were usually something Spencer wasn’t accustomed to, but he could never pass one up when it came from you.

Your arms wrapped around Spencer’s neck, your fingers lightly caressing the back of his nape making a shiver go down his spine. Spencer’s free hand went to rest on your lower back, his fingers copying your movements with his thumb caressing the fabric of your sweater, this is exactly what he needed to get through the day.

“Oh, don’t forget dessert.”

Before Spencer had a chance to question what you meant, your hands cupped his cheeks and Spencer froze as you peppered light kisses over his face. His eyes blinked rapidly as he took it in, his cheeks now on fire from the loving act.

Spencer watched as you waved at him goodbye and walked out the door, feeling as if his feet were glued to the floor as he wasn’t able to move. His gaze stuck to the doorway you departed from, hoping you’d perchance run back in for one last kiss.

Spencer felt a slap on his back and nearly jumped on the spot from the sensation, then hearing a familiar chuckle belonging to Derek and a sigh parted his lips, knowing what was bound to come next.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, player.”

You can find my masterlist here! Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[heestoleurgirl]

sim jaeyun 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which riki broke up with you, leaving you devastated and depressed. that is, until you get drunk on a night out, and somehow find yourself in his best friend's bed.

genre: angst, smut (pwp) pairing: ex's best friend!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut, MDNI!! wc: 5k

A/N: why am i writing jake smut, im not even jake biased

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

21 days. 21 days since your boyfriend, riki, broke up with you. everyone said it would get easier to deal with over time, and you knew they were right, but you still felt like shit every hour of every single day.

anywhere you looked, you'd just get reminded of him and have flashes of unwanted memories in your mind. it felt like absolute torture. yes, this had been your first serious relationship and you loved him so much, of course you were upset (to say the least).

the worst part was that you still saw him every now and then on campus, which only made your heart ache more. especially when he happened to be around his girl friends. you knew it was just irrational jealousy but that didn't stop you from getting nauseous at the sight.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

one thing was for certain: you couldn't keep going like this, you were extremely exhausted from feeling so miserable 24/7. crying all the time was getting old, and rotting in bed forever didn't seem like a good long term solution. so, you had a totally mature and genius idea that would definitely not make things worse in any way. there was a house party being hosted by someone you knew, it would be the perfect place to get drunk and forget about your ex. even if it's just for one night.

your friends had already been nagging you to go, knowing your current state and how you barely left your house unless it was absolutely necessary. they were worried for you and missed your radiant aura. minhee was convinced she'd find you a hot guy that would help you move on. yeah, you knew that wouldn't work as simple as that, it wasn't easy to simply forget someone you loved with your whole heart and dated for quite a while. but at least you could give it a try, right?

♡

fast forward to friday, you sat on the carpet in front of the body length mirror in your room, attempting to do your makeup. truth be told, it's been a while since you made yourself look so glamorous, which made it all the more difficult to get ready. every fibre of your being was screaming at you to just stay home and cry yourself to sleep while watching rom coms. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to stay on track with your plans and also not let down your friends who were there for you.

the faint sound of a honk broke you out of your thoughts, causing you to grab your belongings and waddle down the stairs in a dress that was shorter than you were comfortable with. your friend karina had gotten it for you a while ago, and you felt bad for never wearing it since then.

"looking good y/nnie!" minhee smirked and jokingly whistled as you managed to navigate yourself in to the passenger seat of her car.

all you could do was roll your eyes and playfully nudge her shoulder. "shut up"

she wiggled her brows in response before shifting gears and taking off to pick the other girls up too. you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous about tonight, and feeling some form of regret. you could only pray and hope that riki wouldn't be there, or you'd definitely drown yourself in the pool without a second thought.

following your excited and chatty friends up the stairs felt strangely like walking towards your impending doom. you stuck close to minhee, who unsurprisingly immediately made her way to the drinks. not like you minded, because there was no way you were surviving this night without any alcohol.

the unknown mix of drinks burned your throat as you swallowed it, not really bothering to be sensible. before you knew it, you were on the dance floor with your friends, laughing and singing along to the songs blasting from the speakers. even if it was due to the alcohol, finally having a smile on your face was really refreshing. karina seemed to notice, who flashed you a grin and tugged you closer as the two of you were dancing like there was no tomorrow.

as the night went on, you gradually lost yourself to the alcohol that was now buzzing in your veins. you didn't feel like yourself at all, but in the best way possible. anyone would be able to tell that you were completely out of it by now.

you had no idea where your friends had disappeared off to, and somehow you found yourself not caring. while you were busy pushing past people with no particular destination in mind, you accidentally bumped into someone.

"woopsies, silly me!" you giggled drunkenly, looking up to see who it was. your heart did a backflip when you managed to recognize the face staring back at you.

"no worries darling." you knew that aussie accent way too well. standing right in front of you was jake, riki's best friend. honestly you were just relieved that it wasn't riki himself.

"oh, hi jake." you stumbled a bit and grabbed onto his arm for support. he merely looked down at you in amusement, finding the blush on your cheek quite cute. his eyebrow shot up subtly, eyeing the revealing dress that was definitely out of chatacter for you. despite that, you looked undeniably gorgeous like always.

jake's hand moved to your waist casually, acting as a stabilizer so you wouldn't fall over. normally, you would've felt awkward in a situation like this, but now you weren't even phased.

"you look like you've had one too many drinks, hm?" he leaned closer to speak, so you'd hear him over the loud music. your hands instinctively tightened around his arm.

"i-i'm fine..." you mumbled stubbornly, even though it was obvious you were close to collapsing right there on the spot.

"are you here alone? where are your friends?" if you were sober, you definitely wouldn't have missed the slight concern laced with his voice.

"uhmm... i dunno!" you grinned sheepishly at him, still pressed against his arm. "i think they ditched me"

you had no idea when or how you lost them, so his guess was as good as yours. "i was just about to leave anyway. can't leave a pretty thing like you drunk and alone"

before you knew it, jake was dragging you out of the party along with him. you weren't exactly sure what was going on, but even in your state you knew that you trusted him. after all, he was your ex's best friend, you'd known him for a while.

♡

jake guided you into his bedroom, sitting you down on his bed and looking down at you, as if contemplating something. now that you were actually here, in his apartment, he wasn't sure if this was the right decision. but what else could he do, leave you at the party when you were completely shitfaced? absolutely not.

he kneeled down in front of you and carefully took one of your legs in his hand, removing your heel with the upmost precision. the other one was discarded too, letting your feet feel relieved from being squished together all night.

you were quiet now, past your drunken giggling and just zoning out, having no clue where you were. he almost laughed at the sight. he'd never seen you so vulnerable and adorable.

"stay here, i'll bring you some water" he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. true to his words, he returned with the water in one hand, and a pill in the other.

you watched with glossy eyes as he sat down next to you and gently guided the glass to your lips. you obeyed, feeling refreshed by the cold liquid. he gave you the pill next, urging you to swallow it. "this will make your headache more bearable tomorrow"

a quiet hum left your lips as you followed his instructions, then set the glass aside on his nightstand. your movements were still uncoordinated and messy, making him chuckle.

"you tired, pretty?" jake examined your droopy eyes, you looked so cute he had to hold himself back from smothering you in affection.

the first time jake saw you, he had felt starstruck. if he could go back in time, he definitely wouldn't have fumbled you so bad. he was a coward, he waited too long and suddenly you were dating his best friend. despite all his attempts to get rid of his attraction towards you, nothing seemed to work in his favour. you were quite literally the only girl he couldn't have, and ironically enough also the only one he wanted. but of course, he was respectful of your relationship with riki and was good at hiding his feelings towards you, he'd never let his jealousy be the reason he fell out with his best friend.

so here you were, sitting in his bed, drunk off your ass and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why you'd drink so much. he wasn't sure how riki would react if he knew the situation he was in right now. he chose to push that thought aside and focus on you.

when you didn't answer his question, he spoke again, "you can sleep in my clothes, yeah?"

you nodded and stood up, letting him help you make your way to the bathroom. As he was closing the door, he added one more thing. "if you need any help, just shout for me."

it was quite difficult to get your dress off, but you managed somehow. all your limbs felt weak and heavy, and you were still disoriented, though you were able to change without falling over or breaking anything. jake's shirt swallowed your small frame comfortably, and you smiled faintly at the smell of his cologne lingering on the fabric. your mind was a jumbled mess of feelings as you returned, seeing him scrolling his phone, also in a more comfortable set of clothes.

he looked up and smirked at you, his eyes shamelessly travelling down your body as he took in the sight of you. to him, you'd never looked hotter. the combination of your messy hair and his shirt stopping by your mid-thighs was enough to make his head spin. he had to remind himself that you were drunk, and no matter how badly he wanted you he couldn't take advantage of you in this state.

seeing him pat a spot on the bed, you didn't need much convincing to climb under the covers and rest your head on a pillow. once again, you were welcomed with his scent, causing you to feel strangely comforted.

jake stood up and gave you one last look, making sure you were laid on your side so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself by choking on your tongue.

"where are you going?" you asked tiredly, opening your eyes to see him by the door of his bedroom.

"i'm sleeping on the couch." he raised a brow, surprised to see you sit up in the bed after just getting comfortable. your next words made him wonder if he was hallucinating.

"come back, i don't want to be alone"

your quiet, pleading voice was simply impossible to resist. how could he say no, when you were looking at him with literal puppy eyes? he sighed, and following a moment of hesitation he climbed into bed next to you. it's not like he didn't want to sleep next to you, god he would give anything to experience this. but he wasn't sure how long he could control himself when you were in his bed, looking like an angel.

for a few minutes, the room was filled with heavy silence as the two of you simply stared at each other. you admired his face, the dim lighting only adding to the tension slowly filling the air. you'd never really noticed just how pretty he was before. his round, brown eyes seemed so welcoming.

"jake..." you almost whispered his name, with nothing specific in mind. you just wanted to end the silence between you, it felt too tense.

"hm?" his eyes never left yours, studying your face as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. the longer you looked at him, the more your heart seemed to race.

"i... i don't know"

"what's wrong?" jake studied your glossy eyes, wondering why you were suddenly acting so emotional. his heart clenched at the sight of you nearly crying. he longed to pull you close and kiss you until you were smiling again.

"i don't know, i just..." you struggled to find words to express how you felt, especially with the alcohol still lingering in your system. there was so much you wanted to say, but you knew better than to break down in his bed when he'd been kind enough to bring you home with him safely. "...i don't wanna be alone. i hate the silence, i hate feeling everything and nothing at the same time i-"

suddenly you felt his finger wiping a stray tear from your cheek, one you haven't even noticed falling. there it was, that familiar heavy feeling in your heart. the one you were so sick of feeling, all you wanted was for it to go away.

you didn't really think before scooting over and hugging jake's larger frame. your face was buried in his neck, a good way to hide your tears as well as your embarrassment. his warmth felt intoxicating and you clutched his shirt like you were afraid he'd disappear.

jake didn't hesitate to welcome your hug and return it, he was more than happy to be your shoulder to cry on. seeing you in such a state made him realize just how emotionally drained you'd been since the breakup happened, he silently cursed riki for not taking care of you properly.

you felt like this was the first time someone had properly hugged you in weeks, which didn't help the overflowing emotions you were already experiencing. you clinged to him as if he was your lifeline, your only hope. there was no way you could explain the way his entire presence and embrace was more comforting than anything you'd felt in a while.

maybe you were delusional, but being in his arms like this made you feel all the more attracted to him. letting your guard down was something you rarely ever did, even with your most trusted friends. yet here you were, silently crying in jake's bed and confessing how lonely you felt as of late. it felt so intimate to be vulnerable around him.

"it's okay, you're not alone. i'm here, yeah?" he murmured against your hair, rubbing your back gently in an attempt to calm you down. if he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed the subtle nod of your head.

"i'm sorry. please don't leave." you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt to feel the bare skin of his back that was practically radiating heat.

your touch caught him off guard and he almost hissed at the contact, his arms tightened around your waist. "i'm not going anywhere darling, and you have nothing to be sorry for. you've been through a lot and you just need some love"

yeah, you did need love. you felt guilty, a part of you still yearned for it to be riki who gave you the love you wanted so badly. but he was gone now, no matter how much you cried over it the past won't change. the more rational part of your brain was constantly urging you to move on and accept the fact that riki doesn't love you anymore. you swore the mixed emotions were going to drive you insane, if they haven't already.

but right now, even if it wasn't what you wanted, jake was what you needed. if only you knew the true extent of how much he cared for you.

jake's hands paused against your back when he felt the soft press of your lips against his neck. it surprised him so much that he couldn't help but wonder if he was imagining things. but no, he felt it yet again. "fuck, angel... don't do that" he struggled to speak properly.

"why not?" you pulled away a bit to examine his face, searching for signs of any discomfort, or maybe disgust. you just wanted to shower him in affection to show him how grateful you felt to be here with him right now. to be able to sleep in his bed and cry in his arms to your heart's extent.

he wasn't sure how to explain the reason he didn't want you to kiss him right now, and you were completely oblivious to his internal struggle.

"you're still tipsy, and emotional..." jake brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, "i'm not going to take advantage of your state." he was being so sweet to you, it was almost annoying. yes, you were still not entirely sober but you couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to be... close to him.

so instead of replying, you leaned closer and pecked his cheek, causing jake to groan aloud. how could he possibly restrain himself when the girl he was whipped for was acting like this? he cupped your jaw with one hand and pulled your face closer, placing his lips onto yours with one swift motion.

your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed back as if you had done this a million times before. it felt so natural, and you were becoming lightheaded from how perfectly your lips felt against each other. previously you'd been worried that kissing someone would feel wrong, and you thought you'd imagine you were kissing riki instead, but right now there wasn't a single thought about him in your mind. all you could focus on was how good it was.

jake felt like he was losing his mind more every second he continued to kiss you. he didn't care how needy he might be coming off, cause fuck he'd wanted to this for months. never in a million years did he anticipate it would actually happen, in this context no less.

the kiss grew more heated as you moved your hands from his back to feel up his defined abs, relishing how supple and warm his skin was. at the same time, jake had a hand cupping your cheek, while the other one slid down to your waist, dipping under the shirt you were wearing. the feeling of your bare skin under his fingertips was absolutely euphoric. safe to say, neither of you were thinking about how right or wrong this might be at the moment. all your thoughts were out the window and you were entirely immersed in his company.

he didn't hesitate for a second when he realized you were tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently demanding its removal. the t-shirt was tossed aside, landing somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. your eyes widened as you were met with the sight of his bare upper body, you had to hold yourself back from practically drooling at the view. jake noticed your lustful gaze and couldn't help but smirk to himself. he pulled you closer and kissed you briefly before whispering in your ear lowly, "your turn."

he didn't leave you time to respond, tugging your shirt over your head. the action made you blush a bit, but you lifted your arms to help him remove the item of clothing. faint goosebumps littered your skin due to the sudden loss of heat, mixed with the tension in the air.

your hands landed on his chest, you took a moment to look into his eyes before inching closer and placing your lips on his for the nth time. the passion was halted for a moment, leaving room for the kiss to be more timid and soft. it didn't last for long though, soon enough it turned needy once again.

jake sat up without warning and pulled you into his lap snugly by your waist. your legs landed on either side of his thighs as you made yourself comfortable and wrapped your arms around his neck. his half lidded eyes and lazy grin made your heart skip a beat. for a second you felt stunned, an overwhelming sense of need filled you. he didn't miss the way your gaze travelled down his bare body once again, it sent a strange kind of satisfaction through him.

his lips found their way down from your jaw to your neck, peppering it with soft kisses. a quiet groan left his throat as you thread your fingers through his dark brown hair. the playful kisses turned into gentle nips and bites, jake couldn't resist leaving a few pretty marks along your porcelain skin.

your hushed gasp was a contrast to the mostly quiet atmosphere as his hands had somehow ended up squeezing your backside. the action caused you to arch your back instinctively, making you grind against him.

"fuck." he whispered, gently guiding your hips in his lap. the slight friction was intoxicating.

"jake..." his name left your mouth in a quiet whisper as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, letting your urges get the best of you.

"i know, baby" his hands slid lower to caress your inner thighs tenderly. he tried not to moan as his hips pushed upward involuntary, amplifying the friction between you, while his boxers were becoming increasingly tight as his arousal strained against the fabric.

your lips found his once more, you were getting more desperate by the second and your mind was consumed purely with need for him. the material of his sweatpants felt soft under your fingers as you tugged subtly.

jake's breath hitched and his resolve crumbled almost immediately. he was a gone man, there was no going back now. breaking the kiss and muttering a quiet curse, he shoved his sweats and boxers down his hips in one swift motion. the rest was kicked off carelessly, leaving him completely bare under you. his hard length stood heavy against his stomach, flushed and leaking.

the sight made you want to faint on the spot, you had been so caught up chasing your lust and now it all felt real. you were still hovering on your knees, having lifted your hips to let him remove his remaining clothes.

but jake didn't plan on waiting around while you admired his erection, in a quick motion he flipped you over, pushing you against the pillows as he hovered above you. the view he had right now was almost enough to make him cum on the spot: you laid beneath him, sprawled out with messy hair and slightly swollen lips. not to mention some red marks he's left on your neck earlier (they definitely weren't the last either).

"you're so gorgeous, it's unfair."

before you knew it, he was kissing your shoulder, distracting you from the way his hand slid under your lacy panties. the gasp that left your lips was enough to let him know that you were surprised to feel his finger trail along your folds. god you were so wet he groaned out loud, opting to suck on your neck to keep himself quiet.

your arms darted to wrap around his neck once more as you felt him slide a finger into you. a broken moan left your lips, you bucked your hips into his hand, wanting to feel more of him.

"fuck, pretty, you're soaked" he murmured, his voice somewhat strained as he held himself back from shoving himself in fully and fucking you until you passed out.

"jake-" you couldn't speak properly even if you tried, especially not when another finger was pushed into you with ease. it was completely out of your control how your walls clenched around his diligently working fingers. "please..."

he could tell you were growing impatient and he knew exactly what you were asking for. as much as he longed to tease you and make you squirm under him as much as possible, his own arousal was consuming him whole.

after a few more pumps of his fingers, he pulled them out, earning a quiet whimper from you. he couldn't hold back a smirk, there was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you all desperate and needy for him, like you'd die if he didn't fill you up immediately. jake was pretty sure he'd never been as hard as he was right now in his entire life.

your panties were practically ripped off, not that you minded because that was the least of your concerns at the moment. you were completely focused on how jake grabbed your thighs and nudged them apart to position himself at your entrance.

he rubbed his tip against your aching clit, coating himself in your wetness and teasing you at the same time. "is this what you need doll? want me to fill you up?" he asked, his voice was low and laced with desire even with the obvious rhetorical question. he nudged inside, not giving you the full length yet as he moved his hands all over your body.

"yes! please jake, i need you" you whined shamelessly in response, tugging him closer with your hands on his back. there was no room for embarrassment, especially when you knew how much he was getting off from your begging.

he grunted in satisfaction at your response, pushing inside slowly until his hips pressed against yours. your gummy walls were tight and inviting, sucking him in with no effort. if jake thought he was close to losing it completely earlier, he was not ready for this moment. his entire body was tingling, senses heightened yet his brain completely gone, unable to form coherent thoughts.

"so good for me, i knew you could take it" he soothed your faint whimpers with a kiss on your forehead.

your eyes were glossy from the immense pleasure you felt with him just being buried to the hilt. the stretch was perfect, he filled you up perfectly without causing any pain.

after a moment of panting and moans, jake started to rock his hips, thrusting into you slowly. he wasn't sure how long he'd last with you being so perfect for him in every way.

"holy fuck..." he closed his eyes for a moment, desperate to keep himself together in favour of your pleasure and comfort. your soft moans and gasps didn't help his case one bit.

you couldn't stay quiet even if you tried, he was bringing you so much euphoria you swore you would explode. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he sped up his movements, pushing as deep as possible. "fuck, jake..."

"so vocal for me" he hummed against your ear, his breath tickling your skin and giving you goosebumps yet again, only heightening the growing pleasure. as he continued to thrust into you, his hand left your waist to grap one or your hands and hold it down against the mattress, fingers intertwining naturally.

a sudden pain shot through his body in result of your nails digging into the skin of his back, altering between scratching and holding on. but the feeling only turned him on more, urging him to pound into you even faster.

"you're doing so well angel, shit" jake knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he was very relieved to feel you squirm and clench around his dick.

"it's so much..." you muttered between moans, your senses were flooded and overwhelmed by now. you swore you could see stars every time you felt his tip push against your cervix, his movements were painfully precise. "i'm close, jake"

you calling his name out so sweetly was music to his ears. he kissed your cheek and spoke in a strained voice yet again, "me too, you gonna come for me princess? hm?"

it was a miracle that you even lasted this long, your adamant nods were only seconds prior to you clamping down on him hard. a mix of a moan and grunt was heard from jake as he let go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

with a few more sloppy thrusts, his climax was just behind yours. his hair was tugged and you squeezed your legs tightly as his hips jerked. you were filled up by ropes of his thick seed, making your eyes roll back from the pleasure completely and moan his name like a prayer.

both your bodies were moulded against each other, only disrupted occasionally with your light squirms. jake stroked your hair gently, holding onto you like he was afraid you would disappear. after a few peaceful moments, he carefully pulled out and grabbed a clean tissue to help you clean up.

once you were both under the cover again, he didn't waste any time to pull you against his chest. "i'm here, i won't leave." he whispered sweet reassurances to you, caressing any part of you he could reach. you practically melted into his arms completely, his presence was beyond comforting for your exhausted self.

you muttered against his warm skin quietly, "thank you"

"for what?" he smiled sweetly, even though you couldn't see his face. here you were, thanking him when you had been the one to give him the best experience he could ever ask for.

"taking care of me."

"i would never neglect my baby."

his words were enough to paint a soft smile onto your tired face. it didn't take long for you to drift into a peaceful sleep, especially when you were cuddled up to him so snugly. jake's heart swelled at how cute you looked in his arms. he couldn't ask for more, all he'd wanted was to take care of you and he finally got the chance, he wasn't going to hesitate or be a coward with you ever again.

a/n: so. i just wanted to try out writing smut but this is gonna be my first and last time because WTFF IS THIS LMAO

i'm sticking to smaus i can't write for the life of me

songs for this fic:

tags:@vivimura@s1rawb3rry@who-tf-soddhi@laurradoesloveu@p1hbrook@hoonielvv@nodoubtily@enhamonsterghoul@heebambilee@en-chantedtomeetyou@hsbae@jellyluv4eva@vivissection@beigerin@jwywife@elairah@heekilrvs@jayjw16enxp@lakoya@ijustreallylike2read@annovaz@strawberrynull@abbyeey@celestiai0@enhalxvr@llearlert@raizennloll@rizzmura@sabriochee@sol3chu@fluveriiez@kitty-won07@sucrosxi@kukkurookkoo@mimisxs@darquette@hhyvsstuff@lovelydeliciousfestival@luciathcv@bigwforjay@pshfan0812@lov4hoon@jaerisdiction@kireiinahana@abzyissupersleepy@madslove-enhypen@b3tt7boop@dodot04lover@ki2rins@sugarikiz ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

[rainydayathogwarts]

I neeeed more poly!marauders x reader but maybe on the train to hogwarts and James gets worked up over some girl in a magazine???

Sirius's magazine - poly!marauders

summary: when sirius sneaks his porn magazine into james's backpack, it's almost inevitable for the boy to find it and caught a happy accident. wc: 2.2k+

It had been a long summer without your boys. Sirius and James had spent a couple of pleasant months together, exchanging kisses behind close doors in disguise of helping a friend out, and you and Remus had been left all alone. So it wasn’t really a surprise that you were the first to greet each other on the train back to Hogwarts. James watched with pouty lips as you and Remus engulfed each other in a tight hug, the taller boy leaning down to kiss you. James and Sirius followed your movements, exchanging hugs and short kisses before you settled yourself against Remus’s side, his arm slung over your shoulder, keeping you snug against him. 

The group fell into a comfortable atmosphere as Sirius delved into stories about him and James while they stayed at the Potter Manor, and how Fleamont almost caught them kissing a little more than one time. “Oh please, if anyone would be fine with their son liking boys, it would be James’s parents.” You pointed out, resting your head on Remus’s shoulder. James shook his head “No but my parents think I have a girlfriend. Well, they know I have a girlfriend, but that’s it.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise, feeling Remus’s body move as he chuckled. “Yeah, James spoke about you so much that his mum asked if you were his girlfriend. Spoiler alert: he said yes.” You grinned widely, putting a hand on Remus’s chest and glancing up at his amused expression.

“Also,” James added, “In every photo I showed of our friend group, you’re pretty much always sitting in my lap, so it would be weird if I said no and then showed them those photos.” You hummed, shrugging your shoulders. “What can I say, I know where my favourite seat is.” Remus lightly shoved you before instantly bringing you back to his side and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Let me show you.” James insisted, leaning down to lift his backpack up into his lap and ruffling through it. He huffed, pulling a large object out of the bag and saying “Sirius, you didn’t!” But the image on the front cover of the magazine instantly gave it away. “What!?” The boy defended, “I didn’t have time to put it in my luggage and I wasn’t going to leave it!” 

“Sirius, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t go shoving porn magazines in other people’s bags!” You and Remus both made a noise of understanding, nodding your heads in unison. “Three people aren’t enough to satisfy your needs?” Teased Remus, leaning further in his seat. Sirius held Remus’s eye contact, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke “James, turn to page 26.” James obeyed, but not without shooting Sirius a suspicious look first. “Doesn’t she look just like her?” He asked, not breaking eye contact with the scarred boy.

James’s small gasp told you enough. His eyes were trained on the page, eyes wide, and if you were close enough, you’d probably see the way his pupils dilated. “What do you think?” Sirius asked. James shrugged his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant, but the redness in his cheeks and the shy look on his face spoke otherwise. “Not identical, but yeah, close enough.” James flicked to the other page, and you saw his jaw go slack, hand freezing on the paper. Suddenly, he looked up, briefly making eye contact with you before he slammed the magazine shut and averted his gaze to the window.

“Hey, I wanna see!” You called, standing up and snatching the magazine from James’s sweaty hands. You stood silently flicking through the magazine, an eyebrow raised as you scanned the promiscuous positions of the models on each page. The train jerked just as you landed on page 26, and you stumbled, throwing your arms out to regain your balance, but an arm was wrapping around your waist and tugging you towards them. You landed with a squeal on someone’s lap, and you looked back to spot Remus’s grinning face, both his arms snaking around your torso. He nodded towards the magazine, and you turned your gaze towards it, your breath immediately hitching in your throat.

“I was not expecting that.” You muttered, and Remus hummed in agreement. Page 26 had the most inappropriate image so far, with the model on her knees, chest touching the floor as she arched her back. The image was taken from the back, allowing a perfect view of her leaking centre between her spread legs. Sirius was right though, she had nearly identical hair, and her body’s curves dipped in similar manners to yours. “Well, I’ve never seen myself from that angle, so I wouldn’t know.” You announced, looking up at Sirius who wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively. You turned to the next page, where the same model was now straddling a man’s lap, leaning over his chest with her fist closed around his dick. “Hey, he kind of looks like you!” You added, looking up at Remus with a grin. “Same tattoo placement too.” You pointed at the man on the page’s tattoo, just above his hip, and Remus ducked his head down to press kisses in the crook of your neck. “Meant to be together in every universe, yeah?” You twisted on Remus’s lap to face him, leaning closer to kiss him softly. One of his hands travelled to your hip to squeeze it gently, pecking your lips once more.

James’s attention was still turned towards the view on the other side of the window, but he listened closely to your entire loving exchange, an image of you an Remus together forming in his head. He winced, feeling himself grow impossibly harder. You cocked your head to the side as you observed James, calling the boy’s name once. As he turned his body towards you, he placed his hands over his lap, gulping harshly. You giggled, standing from Remus’s lap to wobble over to James. Wrapping your arms over his shoulders, you let yourself drop onto his lap, causing a loud moan to escape his parted lips. James’s hands moved to tightly grip your hips, adjusting you so that his swollen cock was right in between your legs.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” You asked teasingly, pressing a soft kiss on James’s temple. “Please, please.” He whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that Jamie, you know that.” Sirius turned his body towards you and James as the words tumbled out of your mouth, leaning back against  the compartment’s wooden door as he prepared himself for the show.

“I’m so hard, please.” He whispered, not daring to look at either of the other boys in the compartment. Sometimes they intimidated him too much, but you were always looking at him with adoration in your eyes. Turning your attention towards Remus, you silently deliberated with the quiet boy, a small smirk on his lips. The train hit a bump, causing your body to jump up and down on James’s lap, making him bite his lip painfully as he miserably tried to suppress a moan. Desperately, James bucked his hips up, looking for friction. His eyes fluttered shut as a satisfied breath left his lips, but his pleasure was short lived.

“James.” His eyes snapped open, looking directly across your body to make eye contact with Remus, who’d finally put on an assertive tone. “Are you so desperate to cum that you’re willing to do it in your trousers? On the train to Hogwarts?” James nodded quickly, which put a frown on Remus’s face. “Think about it for a few seconds.” It was James’s turn to frown, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head. “Go on and unbutton them for me.”

Sirius leaned to the side, reaching for the lock on the compartment door and turning it. He quickly mumbled a silencing spell while James rushed to undo his trousers. James looked up, waiting for further instructions from Remus. “Pull your boxers down.” You glanced down at James’s movements, watching his cock spring out of his boxers, tip leaking with drops of precum. You couldn’t help but wrap your hand around his cock, causing James’s jaw to fall open in a silent moan. A call of your name had your head snapping back towards Remus, patiently listening for his next words. “Just sit on it for now.” Sirius barked out a laugh as you whined “What? That’s not fair!” Remus raised his eyebrows at your disobedience, and it was enough for you to sigh submissively and follow his commands.

James’s hand slid under your skirt to push your panties to the side, the other arm wrapping around your waist carefully to help you slowly sink onto him. Your eyes snapped shut as you took in James’s thick length, a quiet whimper leaving you as you tried adjusting to his size. The only sound in the compartment was your and James’s heavy breathing, tears clouding your vision as you got yourself used to James’s girthy cock. James’s hands returned to your hips in an instant, slightly lifting you off him to help you adjust. Remus watched silently, manspreading and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re not gonna tell them to stop moving?” Teased Sirius, moving to sit next to the boy in command. “Bold coming from the guy who got them in this situation.” He fired back, though the playful smile on his face suggested he was only teasing.

Remus put an arm out and Sirius quickly moved to fill the empty space in front of it, taking your precious spot. The two shared a quick kiss and James instantly whined, letting his head drop on your shoulder as he tried holding himself back from moving. “I still don’t think this is fair.” You announced boldly, squeezing your legs together for more friction. “I didn’t even do anything!” You whimpered as the train hit another bump, James’s dick grazing your cervix.

Remus smiled at you, standing up and taking a step towards you. You looked up at him hopefully, chest puffing up when he leaned down to kiss you, cupping your cheeks with both his hands. You moaned quietly, pushing yourself up to return the kiss and Remus chuckled in the kiss, sliding his tongue in your mouth. Your fingers closed around Remus’s sweater, trying to pull him closer to you, but he broke the kiss, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs as he smiled down at you. “I know darling, you’re being so good for me. Get through this and I promise I’ll reward you when we get to the castle yeah?” You nodded eagerly, only remembering about James when he sharply thrusted his hips into yours, causing a loud gasp to escape your lips.

“Well, we both know who isn’t getting a reward later.” Remus scolded, causing James to whine, his head falling back in disappointment. “Okay James, go crazy.” Your eyes widened when those words left Remus’s mouth, and you instantly opened your mouth to protest “Not too crazy!” But James had already started thrusting his hips into you with such force that you bounced up his lap with each thrust. “Oh god!” You cried, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud. 

From in front of you, Sirius bit his lip at the sight of you panting on top of James who desperately bucked his hips into you, feeling himself grow hard. Fuck, now he was going to have to find a magazine with a lookalike of you and James together. “Don’t forget about her.” Remus warned James, sitting back down next to Sirius. James whimpered, mumbling “I’m sorry, sorry” as his hand travelled to the front of your panties, snaking inside to fumble around, looking for your clit. You jerked up when James’s fingers connected to your clit, beginning to harshly rub circles on it as he began losing rhythm of his thrusts.

Suddenly remembering that he wasn’t limited to this position alone, James wrapped his free arm around your waist, using the momentum of his thrusts to stand up. You yelped as James put you on your feet, turning you towards the window so he could hit it from the back. You stuck your ass out, legs immediately beginning to shake from the new angle as James began thrusting into you with more power.

Sirius cleared his throat, reaching for the button of his trouser, when Remus placed his hand atop his, saying “Don’t.” Sirius’s eyes widened, and he mumbled “What?” though he quickly turned his attention back to you and James just as your back was arching and James’s thrusts were becoming sloppy. Your high pitched moans filled the compartment while James was crying out your name, releasing his load into you. He kept his cock buried inside you while you both came, emptying every last drop of cum into you. You panted heavily, turning your torso as much as you could to kiss James, who eagerly accepted your kiss. Sirius finally turned his gaze back to Remus, who still kept his hand over his, and questioned again. “What? You’re joking, right?” Remus shook his head, holding out the magazine that Sirius had hidden in James’s bag. “Think of it as a sort of punishment.” 

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Sweet Surprise | LN4

⋆˚✿˖° summary ━━━━━━━ Lando finds Y/N's sex toy

⋆˚✿˖° pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆˚✿˖° word count ━━━━━━━ 2.7k

⋆˚✿˖° warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Based on this request.

It was a quiet Friday evening in London, the sky painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set. Inside her apartment, Y/N was still at work, wrapped up in her typical 9-to-5 routine. The familiar hum of her laptop screen and the rustle of papers were the only sounds filling the space. But there was something different in the air today, something she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps it was the way the evening light seemed to make the room feel a little warmer, or maybe it was the anticipation of the surprise she knew was coming.

Lando had always been a bit unpredictable when it came to their time together. After weeks of gentle teasing and persistent gifts, she had finally agreed to go on a date with him—six dates, to be precise. Each one had brought them closer, the chemistry undeniable, the tension palpable. Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was just playing with her. She wasn’t sure whether he was serious about her or simply enjoying the chase. And as much as she tried to convince herself that she wasn’t falling for him, she couldn’t ignore the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw him.

Tonight, she had no idea what to expect. All she knew was that Lando was coming over, and he had promised her a surprise.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

She opened the door to find Lando standing there, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. In his hands was a box, carefully wrapped with a ribbon. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he said, his voice low, yet teasing. “I brought you something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, feeling a sudden wave of curiosity. “What’s this?”

Lando grinned mischievously. “You’ll see. Open it.”

Inside the box was a cake—no ordinary cake, but the one from her favorite bakery. The one she had mentioned in passing months ago, how she rarely got the chance to have it because it was always sold out. Lando had somehow managed to secure a special order, paying extra for the bakery to make it just for her.

“You actually got it?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise. “How did you even—”

“I have my ways,” he said with a wink. “But you deserve something special. I figured this would be the perfect treat.”

Her heart warmed at the gesture. She hadn’t expected something so thoughtful. “You really went all out.”

“I would do anything for you,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers. “I hope you like it.”

They sat down together, savoring the rich layers of the cake, the sweetness of the moment matching the sweetness of the dessert. The conversation flowed easily, the two of them slipping into a comfortable rhythm. The tension between them was undeniable, but they both danced around it—teasing, flirting, but never crossing the line.

After they finished their cake, Y/N stood up to put the remaining slices in the fridge. As she did, Lando leaned back in his chair, watching her with that familiar glint in his eyes.

“So,” Lando said casually, leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched her put away the leftover cake. His tone was smooth, almost too casual. “Do you have the book you promised me?”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, momentarily confused. “Book?”

“Yes, the one you said I absolutely have to read,” he replied, smirking. “You said it’s in your room.''

“Oh!” Y/N’s eyes widened as realization struck. “Right. That book.”

He chuckled softly, amused by how easily distracted she was. “Where is it?”

“It’s on my nightstand,” she said, closing the fridge door. “You can grab it. I think it’s on top of the stack.”

“Sure,” Lando said, pushing off the counter and heading toward her bedroom.

Y/N didn’t think twice about it. Why would she? The book was exactly where she said it was, and her room was relatively tidy—at least, she thought it was. She turned back to the counter, wiping it down absentmindedly as her mind wandered to the cake he had surprised her with.

Meanwhile, Lando stepped into her room, his gaze immediately falling on the nightstand. The book was there, just as she’d said, but his attention didn’t stay on it for long.

Because there, on the bed, lying in plain sight, was something far more attention-grabbing: her dildo.

He blinked, taken aback for a second, before a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. Of all the things he’d expected to find, this was certainly not one of them.

“Did you find it?” Y/n called out from the kitchen, her voice carrying a casual tone as she slid the remaining slice of cake into the fridge. The sweet aroma of vanilla and buttercream lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of Lando’s cologne that seemed to follow him everywhere.

Silence.

“Lando?” she tried again, this time tilting her head toward the hallway leading to her bedroom. Her heart began to thud softly in her chest, a nervous flutter she couldn’t quite explain. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and stepped into the hallway, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor.

When she reached her bedroom door, she froze.

Lando was standing by her bed, his back to her, shoulders tense. His gaze was fixed on something on the mattress, something Y/n had completely forgotten about until now. Her dildo.

Oh God. Her stomach dropped. Heat rushed to her cheeks, spreading down her neck and across her chest. How could I forget? Earlier that day, after a particularly steamy session in the shower, she’d left it there, too lost in her own thoughts to remember to put it away.

“Uh…” she started, her voice barely audible. “I can explain…”

Lando turned slowly, his blue/ green eyes darkening as they met hers. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it wasn’t mocking—it was hungry. “Explain what?” he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off a spoon. “That you like to keep things… handy?”

Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, trying to will away the embarrassment. “It’s not what you think,” she muttered, though even she knew how weak that sounded.

Lando took a step closer, his fingers brushing against the edge of the bed. “Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think,” he said, his tone teasing yet laced with something deeper. Something raw. He picked up the toy, turning it over in his hands as if inspecting it. “Impressive size,” he added, his smirk widening. “Guess you don’t settle for less, huh?”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Could you not?”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Why? Embarrassed?” He closed the distance between them, stopping just inches from her. His free hand reached out, gently tugging one of hers away from her face. “You shouldn’t be.”

His touch was warm, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a way that made her breath catch. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, searching his for any hint of judgment. But all she found was… desire.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers. “Do you really think I care about that?” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “If anything, it just makes me wonder… What else are you hiding behind that tough-girl act of yours?”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. This was dangerous. Too dangerous. She’d spent months keeping him at arm’s length, convincing herself he wasn’t serious, that he didn’t see her the way she secretly hoped he did. But now, with him so close, with his words unraveling her defenses, she wasn’t sure she could hold back anymore.

“I’m not hiding anything,” she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Bullshit,” he said bluntly, his tone firm yet gentle. “You’re always hiding, Y/n. Behind your sarcasm, your independence, your I-don’t-need-anyone attitude. But I see you. I always have.”

Her breath hitched. No one had ever talked to her like this, stripped her bare with just a few words. It terrified her. And yet…

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “And what if you don’t like what you see?”

He paused, his expression softening. Slowly, he set the toy down on the nightstand and cupped her face in his hands. His touch was so tender, so genuine, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. “I already do,” he said, his voice steady. “Every single part of you.”

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension. Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit. But there was none. Just honesty. And something else… something that made her knees weak.

“Lando…” she breathed, her resolve crumbling.

He didn’t wait for her to finish. His lips crashed onto hers, the kiss fierce and hungry, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. Y/n gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively clutching the front of his shirt. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, and she melted into him, every thought, every doubt, vanishing in an instant.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Lando rested his forehead against hers. “Stop running from me,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Let me in.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body trembling with the weight of his words. She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But fear still lingered, clawing at the edges of her mind.

“What if I’m not enough for you?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still cradling her face. “You already are,” he said firmly. “You always have been.”

She searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity. For the first time in months, maybe even years, she let herself believe it.

“Okay,” she whispered.

His lips curved into a soft smile, and he kissed her again, this time slower, more tender. Their bodies pressed together, heat building between them, until neither of them could think straight.

“Bed,” Lando murmured against her lips, his voice husky.

She nodded, her heart racing as he guided her backward, their movements clumsy yet frantic. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, she fell onto it, pulling him down with her. He hovered above her, his eyes burning with desire as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare.”

Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a searing path of heat as his fingers gently traced the curve of her waist. Y/n’s breath hitched, her mind still reeling from the intensity of their kiss. She could feel the weight of him above her, the warmth of his body pressing into hers, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

His hand slid lower, brushing against her thigh, and she instinctively parted her legs, inviting him closer. But instead of continuing where she expected, Lando pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with mischief as he glanced toward the bed. Her cheeks flushed when she realized what—or rather, who—he was looking at.

The dildo. Still lying there, shamelessly exposed.

“So…” Lando drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Is this how you spend your Friday nights?”

Y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my God, can we just forget about that?”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Why would I want to forget?” His fingers brushed over her wrist, prying her hands away from her face so he could look into her eyes. “I think it’s hot.”

Her heart raced at his words, and she bit her lip, unsure how to respond. Hot? The idea of him finding something like that attractive made her stomach flip in the most delicious way. But before she could say anything, Lando reached for the toy, holding it up between them with a smirk.

“You know,” he said, his tone dripping with playful confidence, “I could give you a much better experience than this.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as she processed his words. “W-what are you saying?”

Instead of answering, he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Let me show you.”

A wave of heat surged through her, pooling at her core. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, all she could do was nod weakly as Lando moved down her body, his hands trailing along her skin. He pushed her dress higher, exposing her thighs, and she tensed slightly, her nerves getting the better of her.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the wicked grin on his face. “Just let me take care of you.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears as she watched him position himself between her legs. His gaze locked with hers, and he held up the dildo, his expression daring her to stop him. With deliberate precision, he slid her panties to the side, exposing her to him fully. But she didn’t stop him. She couldn’t. The anticipation was too intense, the desire too overwhelming.

When the cool silicone touched her bare skin, she gasped, her hips arching instinctively. Lando’s free hand pressed against her hip, holding her steady as he teased her with the toy, tracing slow, deliberate circles around her most sensitive spot.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

All she could manage was a whimper, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. The sensation was maddening, every touch sending jolts of pleasure through her body. And then, just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pressed the tip of the dildo against her entrance, slowly pushing it inside.

Her back arched off the bed, a moan escaping her lips as she felt herself stretching to accommodate it. Lando’s eyes never left her face, watching intently as he began to move it in and out, setting a slow, teasing rhythm.

“Fuck,” she breathed, her head falling back against the pillow. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before—the coldness of the toy contrasting with the heat of his touch, the way he seemed to know exactly how to move to drive her wild.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Lando murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Completely undone.”

She opened her eyes, locking gazes with him, and saw the raw desire in his expression. It sent a thrill through her, knowing that she was the one who had put that look on his face. Without thinking, she reached for him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him down for a bruising kiss.

Their lips clashed together, messy and desperate, as he continued to work the dildo inside her. The dual sensations were almost too much—the deep, filling pressure of the toy combined with the soft, insistent movements of Lando’s tongue against hers.

“More,” she begged against his mouth, her voice trembling with need.

He obliged without hesitation, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts until she was writhing beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Every nerve in her body was alight, every inch of her skin on fire. She could feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter until it threatened to snap.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I-I’m close.”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender. “Let go.”

And just like that, she shattered. Pleasure exploded through her, white-hot and all-consuming, as her body convulsed around the toy. Lando held her through it, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

When she finally came down, her chest heaving and her limbs boneless, Lando set the dildo aside and shifted to lay beside her. He brushed her damp hair from her face, his eyes soft with affection.

“See?” he said, his voice laced with smug satisfaction. “Told you I’d do better.”

She laughed breathlessly, her cheeks flushing again. “Okay, fine. You win.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in to capture her lips in another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but no less passionate. When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with mischief once more.

“But don’t think for a second I’m done with you yet.”

[livinghalfway]

Seeing Double

Damian is always annoyed when he has to deal with kidnappers wanting to make some quick cash hoping to ransom him back to his father. As much as he wants to just fight them, and be done with it he knows that he can’t. Father had told him repeatedly that in order to maintain cover he couldn’t deal with these types of issues when he was supposed to be nothing but a regular civilian. 

Someone from the family should be showing up soon though as Damian had pressed the distress beacon as soon as he noticed that he was being followed by some very obvious criminals. That are only going to be referred to as idiot A and idiot B in his mind. 

Which is why he mostly complies as they grab him from the van and proceed to drag him inside an old rundown building where two other criminals, idiot C and idiot D, are already waiting with grinning faces. What immediately sets Damian on edge though is when they notice their entrance those smiles instantly disappear. 

Idiot A and B don’t seem to notice their fellow criminals' sudden shift in attitude though. 

“It seems we were the ones to find the Wayne brat after all boys! Bets a bet fellas, and I’m expecting payment in the form of dinner.” Idiot A dragging him farther inside announces to the room before noticing the other two don’t seem to be sharing his excitement. “Come on guys just because Jakob and I won the bet doesn’t mean we’re not all getting paid today! No need to look so down.” 

“But we won the bet? Damian Wayne is already tied up in the other room.” Idiot C says as he confusingly looks between Damian and a door off to the side. Whoever was confused for him is mostly likely on the other side then. Great, another thing he will have to worry about while he’s here. 

Idiot B grabs his shoulder and even shakes Damian as he speaks, “No, this is Damian Wayne!” 

All four of them are now staring at him before Idiot D speaks up, “I still think the other kid is the real Damian.” 

“It doesn’t matter which one is the real Wayne kid. Our plan still works; we can still get our money! Just- just tie this one up, and put him with the other one. We still have a schedule we need to stick to.” 

Now, Damian knew that when he saw the other boy being held here that they would probably have similar features, but he wasn’t expecting to actually see his own face looking back at him. More correctly though his long thought gone twin brother’s face. 

He’d recognize that face anywhere; he gave Danyal that scare after all. 

[roanniom]

Couldn't Wait

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, piv

When you come home from your girls night out, you had expected to find your boyfriend on the couch watching a horror movie or reading a comic book. You hadn't expected to find him waiting to pounce the minute you walked in the door.

"What has gotten into you, Eddie Bear?" you ask with a laugh, kicking off your heels so he can pull you down onto the couch with him.

"I need you, baby. Need you right now." His voice is rough between kisses delivered to your neck and cheeks and collar bone.

"Ok just let me change out of these clothes real quick -,"

“C’mon honey please, ‘m so fucking hard, jus’ look.”

He’s right. His cock is standing at attention in his sweatpants, clearly aching and reaching out for you. He drops a hand to his lap and palms himself slowly.

“Fuck, baby. Please. Need that tight little pussy. Let me have it.”

Your eyes widen taking in the state of him.

"Eddie Munson, what has gotten you so worked up that you could barely wait for me to get back?"

Eddie's gaze shifts away from you sheepishly over to the coffee table. Before he can stop you, you reach for the thing he'd glanced at - a polaroid of you. On your back in your shared bed. Naked and blissed out with a tattooed arm reaching in from the bottom of frame to rest a hand in the space between your legs.

"Oh," you say simply, a small smile forming on your lips.

"Baby, I'm fucking aching for you."

You play with one of his curls and pretend to consider it.

"Why didn't you just take care of yourself while I was gone?" you ask. "I wouldn't have minded."

"You think I would deprive myself of a goddess in favor of my own shitty hand? Babe. Be serious."

Eddie's eyelids are heavy and his chest rises and falls a little more rapidly the more he gets worked up. You drop your palm to it and let it slide down the plane of his torso, down his abdomen, and into his lap.

"Alright. We can be serious." You wrap your hand around his length through his pants in earnest. Eddie intakes breath sharply.

"Yes. Yes yes yes."

Your clothes on the floor in a matter of seconds, Eddie replacing the cups of your bra with his hands.

"Ahhh finally," Eddie says with the gusto of a man having his first drink of water after a long thirst. All you're doing is grinding down on him, working yourself up to reach his level. But the look on Eddie's face implies he's reached nirvana.

"You wanted me that bad, huh?" you tease, a bit more breathlessly.

"More than a blind man wants to see the sun," Eddie says reverently into your cleavage.

"Well that's an exaggeration," you chuckle. You can't press it, however, because Eddie begins pressing his finger on your clit through your underwear. After a few minutes you find yourself writhing above him.

After a particularly loud moan from you, Eddie grins.

"Speaking of exaggeration..."

"Oh shut up and fuck me, Munson," you smack his shoulder and climb off him to divest yourself of your final scrap of clothing.

"With pleasure. princess." Eddie gives you a salute before chucking off the rest of his clothes as well.

Before you can ask him how he wants you, however, you're twirled around to face away from him, his hand on the back of your neck, guiding you to kneel on the couch.

"That's it, baby," Eddie practically purrs. He lines his tip up with your dripping center, but instead of immediately sheathing himself inside of you, he swipes from your core down to your clit.

"Fucking tease," you complain, wiggling your hips to entice him forward. After all of his pleading and cajoling he was still making you wait. A swift slap to your ass makes you squeal.

"Takes one to know one."

When he finally does slide inside of you, you realize he's right. You'd rather this - a quick fuck in the dark of night with your lover - than seeing the sun.

~*~

I hope you enjoyed!

[maiamore]

STAR-STRUCK

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 5k

Summary: You’re a fresh-faced production assistant for known action star Joel Miller. He’s not quite what you expected–but neither are you.

Tags: actor!joel x production assist reader, action film set, no use of y/n, rough/dom Joel, use of the word ‘kid’, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected pinv, mentions of injuries & violence, Joel does his own stunts, public sex, bdj (big-dicked-Joel), Joel is not nice in this fic, more untagged read at your own discretion A/N: oof this a long one. also! i swear i've seen something similar relating to the mandalorian reference. if anyone knows the fic, pleaaaase let me know

READER’S TATT/PIERCINGS-SPO

This wasn’t what you’d imagined your life to look like. 

For the majority of your adult life, you’d clung to a glittering, idealistic vision of your future. You’d blame it on those countless movie marathons with your dad–the late nights, the worn-out couch and the satisfying click of the DVD player setting the stage for your ambitions. You’d dreamed of being a part of the magic. The glitz, the glamour, the art of it all. 

Directors like Ridley Scott, Martin Scorsese, John McTiernan captured your adolescent heart, fanning the flames of your Hollywood dreams.

You knew coming into this that it was going to be far from easy. God knows you’d paid your dues living in NYC after having moved from your small town–sharing a tiny shoebox of an apartment with three others, taking multiple part-time gigs, hustling to finally land a Production Assistant (PA) role.

And now here you were. Accommodations comped, flown to Atlanta for the shoot of some action movie you weren’t even allowed to know the title of thanks to the NDA you’d signed.

It was suspenseful, sure, but not in the sexy, thrilling way you’d imagined. More like in the “what fresh hell did I sign up for” sort of way.

“So you’ll be handling scheduling, coordinating, and helping the stylists. And making sure his overall well-being is met.”

You shuffled behind Jonah, the PA you were supposedly replacing. It was nearly overwhelming. Already built streets, custom housings, all wrapped up in a larger than life sound stage. Everyone was in their own world, working on their own tasks.

Normal people might have felt small and unseen. But you? You were still star-struck. You could be a part of something so much bigger than you, and that thought excited you. 

“7am every morning. You’ll need to be on standby to help Joel with everything he needs. So here’s the schedule.” 

More papers were being shoved to you, your arms slowly vanishing beneath an ever-growing stack. You scanned it, eyes twitching in dread. 

Every fifteen damned minutes had its own designation. Was this a movie or a military operation?

“Right! Got that. So…who exactly am I…” You squint at the bolded text on freshly printed paper, still warm to touch. “Wiping sweat at 16:45…for?”

Jonah halts mid-strut, turning back to you like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “What…do you mean? You don’t know who you’re working for?”

“I do.” You shoot back defensively. “Well–okay. No. Not really. I was given an NDA, so I’m–”

“It was a yes or no question, hun.”

Suddenly, you were grateful to J-hole leaving. Not so much of replacing his long ass list of endless tasks, though. 

He stops before the stylist’s station, gesturing to a cluttered board, displaying headshots and costume references for your apparent “boss.” As you step closer, your breath catches in your throat.

No way. No fucking way. 

“Joel fucking Miller?”

Your fingers, almost acting on their own, plucked one of the profile shots from the board. Joel’s broad frame was practically sculpted.  His Special Forces uniform taut over his muscles, probably for the character he was playing. Another close-up featured his face smudged with faux grime and fake injuries, his expression hardened and grim. 

And then…there were the less clothed test shots. Your gaze betrayed you, dipping to the dark trail of neatly trimmed curls disappearing beneath his belt.

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull a muscle, as though the sheer force of willpower could exorcise the horny demon possessing you.

Jonah grins at your obvious surprise. Sighing dreamily at the profile shots of him, side views and costume shots.“Yep. Now. It isn’t going to be a problem with you now is it? We had to fire the old girl cuz’ she attempted to–nevermind. Don’t wanna get into that. It was a whole debacle. You can look it up in the files under the Miller versus Nancy lawsuit.”

You glanced at Jonah, confusion knitting your brow before returning the photo to the desk. Honestly? You probably wouldn’t have blamed this Nancy. Joel had been the blueprint for your sexual awakening. 

As fucked as it was. Considering he was closer in age to your dad than your own.

Watching him star in films by the greats back in high school had left you fantasizing, his smoldering intensity seared into your brain. God. You were going to need the entire night to mentally prepare for this.

“You tellin’ that story again?” The voice behind you sent a shiver up your spine–it was the kind of voice that wrapped around you like a thick yarned blanket on a cold night. And the kind of voice you fantasized about when you were grinding against your pillow.

You froze, every damned nerve on high alert. Turning slowly.

Joel Miller stands there. Resurrected from the photos itself.

He was dressed like he’d just walked off a lazy Sunday pickup game. Grey athletic shorts that hung low on his hips, revealing sturdy, hairy legs that somehow made him seem even more rugged. A black t-shirt clung to his frame, dampened at the collar with sweat. Navy cap sitting snug on his head.  

You couldn’t stop yourself from shamelessly dragging your eyes from the damp curls peeking out at the nape of his neck to his thighs. 

He scratches his stubbled jaw, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on you. They paused, and you realized–a little too late–that he’d caught you gawking.

Joel nudges his head towards you. “This her?”

Jonah nods, handing Joel a call sheet. “All new and sparkly.”

He looks you over–not in a predatory way, but like he was cataloging every detail. Dark and steady. And it lands on your shirt. For a split second his brows lifted, just barely.

“You watch that one?” 

Your brain stutters and you look down, realizing you’d stupidly worn your Mandalorian graphic tee. His face–or well, Din Djarin's helmeted face, was plastered across your chest along with the iconic Star Wars logo.

“Oh! Um. yeah,” you stammer, tugging the hem of the cotton as if the ink would magically disappear. 

Great. You meet the man you had dozens of posters of and you were stuttering like a fucking idiot.

“Big fan. Of the show. And, um, the movies. And, you know, your–” Joel holds up a palm, silencing your rambling. “Right.” He sounded amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “...‘preciate it.”

Joel never liked change. It was ironic, given his line of work. An actor, in its nature, had him slipping into new roles and personas on a constant basis. But no matter how many characters he played, he'd preferred the familiarity of a constant crew. 

So the news that Jonah was leaving and that his replacement was a fresh out of film school rookie had Joel grumbling for days.

Then he saw you.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him, like you were seconds away from fainting. Or maybe it was the shirt. That damn shirt.

You clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about dressing for long hours on set. Instead of the usual hoodie and less than glamorous foam sneakers combo, you were rocking a cropped baby tee stretched taut across your chest. 

His gaze dipped, almost involuntarily, taking in the rest of you. The way your bootcut jeans sat low and snug on your hips—to the bunch of keys and a juicy grape chapstick hung on a carabiner attached to your belt loop. 

When you shifted nervously, the movement sent a glint of light flickering from your stomach. A silver charm, shaped like a star, dangled from your belly button. He caught himself mid-thought, forcing his eyes back to your face, but the damage was done.

You weren’t as innocent as you looked. He’d figured out that much. 

Your fuck-ups hadn’t gotten you fired. Not yet, at least. Somehow, you were still here. Holding onto your job by a thread.

It still felt surreal, working for Joel Miller. You’d spent years watching this man on screen. All his works & press interviews. It seemed pretty fucking unreal to think that you now had his name saved to your phone like no big deal.

Given you weren’t able to tell anyone about it, though the purple vibrator that sat in your bedside drawer was pretty much the only thing that knew his name by now.

In the weeks that followed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with him. There were rules–unspoken ones. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t hover too close, and didn’t take it personally when he barked orders or dismissed you with a grunt. Joel wasn’t an easy man to work for.

What was even worse, was that in Joel's eyes, you were probably the least sexual entity to have ever existed. It stung, especially when you considered how much of your mind he occupied.

“Give me a…second. Dunno how these things work.”

You’d shifted uncomfortably, dropping to your knees to Joel’s horror. You sat on your thighs with a huff. Attempting to gather the hem of Joel’s pants to tuck into the army garters.

 “Christ. You don’t hafta…” Joel’s throat tightened as he fought the sudden, unwelcome heat pooling low in his gut.

“Huh?”

It was distracting, the sight of you so close. On your fuckin’ knees no less. Joel tugs around his belt. He snaps his fingers to catch your attention and you look up at him, with wide eyes. 

His thumbs twisting around the two metal hooks of the thin garter until it connects. “Just hook em’ together, kid.” 

You nodded at his words. Finally managing to neatly tuck it into his boots. 

Though from his vantage point, something else catches his eye–a small mark etched into your skin. Black ink at the nape of your neck, a star, delicate like the charm that hung from your belly button. 

“Ya got a thing for stars?” 

You blinked a few times before the words finally registered. Was he really starting a conversation when you were on the ground like this? You notice the slight nudge of his head towards your left. 

Instinctively, you cupped around the back of your neck. “Oh..yeah. I mean…it’s pretty and all.” You had to admit, Joel’s childlike curiosity over the ink on your body all of a sudden caught you off guard. 

He raises a brow at your admission. “What’s the point of puttin’ it at a place you can’t see. Seems pretty pointless.” 

“Didn’t put it there for me to see.” You say with a shrug. 

Joel’s jaw ticks when he realises the insinuation behind your words. He drags his hand down his face, opting to finally keep his mouth shut when the images conjured in his mind couldn’t be held back anymore. 

You didn’t quite notice his distress till you looked up after the lengthy silence that settled. 

The imperceptible twitch in his crotch area catches your attention. Your lips parted to stifle a gasp of surprise. 

Was he— “Jus’ get the hell up, kid.”

The respectable thing to do was to go on about his job. It was humiliating enough that you’d caught him in a painfully embarrassing position. 

But Joel Miller learned two new things about himself.

First, he didn’t quite mind the soft, lingering scent of strawberries and vanilla you seemed to carry. A quiet, comforting sweetness that seemed to cling to the air whenever you were near.

The second? Well, the second was far more troublesome. 

The thoughts that plagued him at night when he was fucking his fist, or someone else for that matter. It didn’t help that he was aware of such vivid and intimate details of you. It fucked with his head how desperately he wanted to draw pleasure out of you and stain that pretty little dainty star you had on your belly with ropes of his cum. 

The culmination of it all was taxing. But somehow? He managed to keep those thoughts at bay.

When the director finally called cut for the day, Joel stepped off set, muscles aching and shirt damp with sweat. He scans the area out of habit. 

Jonah would’ve been there by now–towel, water & phone in hand, ready for the usual barrage of calls and texts he needed to deal with.

Instead, it was you. 

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as the realization hit him again. Right. Jonah was gone.

“You don’t have to look like the world’s ended, Joel.” 

He doesn’t answer you, not at first. 

“It’s not like I’m going to tell people that you—“

Joel seats himself in his chair loudly. A silent warning for you to not go there. He lets out a long, drawn out exhale. Folding his arms tightly. “Kid. Don’t know whatcha think you saw–”

That again. Kid. Was that how he saw you? You had half the mind to admit what the idea of it did to you—the idea that he might’ve gotten hard at the thought of you. 

“Hate that I even have to ask.” You begin, not letting him finish his thought. “You realize I’m not.” You were dabbing a little harder now, tossing out the used makeup wipes in the trash beside you. 

“Y’are when I’ve got a decade over ya.” He says simply. Wincing at your harsh gestures. “Don’t need the complications.” He pushes your hand away, his deep brown eyes stayed locked on you, searching, warning. 

“Leave well enough alone, got that?”

The following weeks on set proved to be grueling, even by Joel’s standards. His reputation preceded him. A stubborn, self-reliant actor who insisted on doing his own stunts. For the studio, it was a nightmare. Higher insurance premiums, a ballooning budget, and his manager losing sleep over the what-ifs. 

For Joel, it was just how he’d always worked.

But his body wasn’t what it used to be. He could feel the aftermath of his aching limbs with every roll, leap, and landing. By the end of each day, he was a drained man.

The tension on set that evening was suffocating, the kind that made every sound sharper, every movement feel urgent. 

Joel’s stunt wasn’t supposed to go wrong. It rarely did. But today was different. 

You’d seen the way his jaw tightened with every take, the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. Monitoring him from the sidelines when the cameras were still rolling. 

Then it happened.

A sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of something gone wrong. Joel hit the ground hard, and the set erupted in chaos. The director’s voice echoed through the sound stage, “Cut! Jesus. Check on Joel. Now!” as the crew scrambled toward him.

You froze, the towel and water bottle in your hands suddenly feeling useless. Your feet moved on instinct, but the crowd around Joel was essentially a wall. Blocking you out. 

You couldn’t get through.

“Back off. M’fine.” Joel’s voice cuts through the commotion, frustration dripping from every word. He swatted away helping hands, gaze darting through the crowd. His face twisted in anger, not from pain but from the lack of order.

“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled. 

You hesitated, your stomach knotting. His eyes finally locked onto you, and his expression darkened. “You. Get over here.”

The weight of his command pulled you forward, even as your gut screamed to stay back, letting someone more qualified deal with it.  You shuffled behind him as you’d maneuvered out of the crowd and back into his trailer. Eyes widening at the sight of blood seeping through a tear in his shirt.

“Joel, I–…shouldn’t we call–”

“Don’t need someone else,” he interrupted, his tone biting but strained. “Just. I’ll tell ya what to do. Kits in the left drawer.”

“Okay,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, wracking your brain for memories of those first aid videos you’d seen on YouTube. Film school did not prep you for this. 

As you grabbed the first aid kit, you watched Joel slump against the trailer walls. You stood there, awkwardly, watching the scarlet blossom against his abdomen.

He looks at you for a moment before exhaling. “Y’know, you can ask n’ not jus’ stand there like a mute, darlin’.”

The witty remark dies in your throat when he yanks his shirt off. Effectively shutting your brain down entirely. You stare down at his body in its’ full glory. Damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Blood smeared in jagged trails down his arm to his abdomen, mingling with grime from the fall. Joel pulls out the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit, handing it to you.

“Shit, Joel. That looks fucking bad.” You hissed out, as though you were the one with a darkened gash on your midriff when you attempted to wipe the first streak off.

“Why…” Fuck. Your voice was cracking. “Why didn’t you just let someone else help you?”

He huffed, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment in amusement before looking away. “Ain’t worth makin’ a scene over somethin’ small.”

“This isn’t small, Joel,” you protested, frowning as you uncovered a deeper gash on his side. “You should’ve let the medics handle it.”

“Don’t need all that fuss.” His tone was clipped, defensive. “Been doin’ my own stunts for years. Ain’t stoppin’ now ‘cause of a scratch.”

“This isn’t a scratch.”

Joel’s gaze flicked to yours again, a flash of something unreadable in his expression. “Look, I get it, alright? But I don’t need everyone actin’ like I’m fallin’ apart. I’m fine.”

He knew deep down that his ego was far too big to admit that he actually needed help. 

“Stubborn,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head as you pressed a clean pad against the wound.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.”

Joel’s patience was paper thin, but he bit back whatever comment was forming on his tongue. “Enough of that. Just…tie it up” He sighs, strained, handing you a roll.

You nodded, fumbling with the bandage as your heart pounded in your ears. The wound was deeper than you’d thought now that it was clean, and the sight of it made your stomach churn.

“C’mon, darlin’. Ain’t got all day.”

You secured the bandage, tying it off with a bunny-eared bow before sitting back on your heels. Fingertips drumming on your knees, seemingly proud of yourself. 

Joel glanced down, his brows furrowing as he took in your work. “What the hell is that?”

“What?” you say defensively. “You told me to tie it.”

“Looks like ya wrapped a damn present,” he muttered. 

“Fine, I’ll redo it–”

“Don’t bother.” He caught your hands before you could move, holding them in place. “It’ll hold.”

The silence that followed proved to further intensify the air between the two of you. His grip on your wrist was firm but not harsh, his eyes locked on yours. You didn’t dare to move. 

The curve of his nose grazed your cheeks, the faintest touch sent a shiver down your spine, but he had enough sense to move away. 

You however, didn’t think, didn’t hesitate when you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tentative kiss.

It seemed to have caught the both of you off guard.

Joel froze, the kiss barely lasting a second before he pulls back, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d tell you off.

But instead, he leans forward. Kissing you harder, deeper. A palm slips to the back of your neck to anchor you in place.

With nowhere else to put your hands, you placed them on his thighs, gripping them tightly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin. His other hand gripped your waist, drags you closer until your knees pressed against the side of his hips.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel stops. He pulls back with a bated breath. His hands slip from where he held your neck. “Shit,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he looks away. “Shit.”

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to catch up. Trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Joel–”

“Stop. I shouldn’t have.” The curtness in his tone startled you. But you frowned. Trailing behind him as he gets up. 

“Well you did.” You blocked his path towards the door of his trailer. Eyes filled with a burning persistence of him once again denying you. 

“Don’t push it, kid.”

You’d practically stepped up to him confrontationally. “—Or better yet, you gonna tell me that I imagined it?”

“You can’t do all of that and then just back off.”

It frustrated you to no end when he stonewalled you like this. Like you were some irrational kid who couldn’t read between the lines.

When Joel finally does speak, he merely says your name. With a finality you couldn’t quite refute. You bite the inside of your cheeks. Feeling humiliated at being shot down when you’d thrown yourself onto someone like this.

“Fucking coward.”

This time, you didn’t mumble. 

Joel visibly grimaces at that. You feel his hand grip painfully around your wrist, stopping you from leaving the trailer.

You let out a choked gasp when his hands shoot out to grip around your throat before you could even react. Forcing you backwards at every step. Instinctively, you grab around his wrists to loosen his grip. 

“Hey!” 

He leans down to your level, lips grazing against your ears in a deep whisper. “Fuckin’ coward, huh?”  You'd pushed all the right buttons. He'd held back for so damned long and he didn't have it in him to hold back. Not after you'd run your mouth.

You let out a shaky exhale. Teeth grit painfully. You should’ve felt scared. Horrified, really. But the tenderness in his hold makes you feel conflicted about what you should’ve felt. 

Joel’s grip held you firm. Tipping your head up. “Y’want me to fuck you that bad?”

A soft whimper leaves your lips when his back presses against you. The hardness rubbed up against your core. You shudder at the sensation, nodding weakly. 

His rough palms circle around your waist, turning you over the dressing table until your pelvis sat flush against it. The grip around your throat swiftly turns to a vice grip around your jaw. 

He tugs at your jaw. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Ugh—yes.…need you..tofuckme.” You manage through gritted teeth. It irked you to say it, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t have let up.

Joel tugs you to look up into your own reflection. Your gaze immediately sours, attempting to look away. 

“C’mon now. S’a pretty sight.” He tuts. His other palm drags the fabric of your top up harshly, pulling it up along with your bra. Your tits spilling at the notion. A gasp slips from your lips. 

“Joel!” Your palms tightens into fists on the table at the obscene sight. 

So much for someone who didn’t want to give in.

It doesn’t faze Joel, merely letting out a low whistle. Kneading them in his palms. “Perfect fuckin’ tits.”

He presses a kiss down the sides of your neck. Twisting around your nipples till they hardened between his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine at the sensation. Holding his arms firmly, you squirm as he nips your shoulder. 

“Could you just—“ Your protests don't stop him in the slightest. Nudging your head a little to give him room. He takes it as a sign to bite down on your neck, bruising you with hickeys all over. 

Joel seems to catch your nervous flickers towards the doors. He shifts your hair over one side of your shoulder. Thumbing over the ink on the nape of your neck. You hear the sound of the zipper, briefly catching sight of him shucking his pants down. He winces slightly at the dull pain shooting across his abdomen, but the desperation of needing you was far greater than the pain.

Somehow, the idea of not being able to see it made it so much worse. And as though he reads your mind, he presses his jaw against the side of your head. “Relax.” The tenderness in his tone through the roughness does manage to soothe your nerves. You nod slowly.

Your hips jolt as the cold air hits your body when Joel dips a finger under the waistband of your sweats. He teasingly brushes his fingers lightly against your skin before swiftly tugging them down to your thighs along with the flimsy cotton panties you had on. “A little warning would help.” You bite back, finally losing patience at his tactless gestures. 

Joel meets your gaze through the mirror. A lopsided smirk quirking up his lips. “Right. My bad.” You could feel the disingenuity in his tone before he taps the length of his cock against your lower back. The gesture almost mocking.

A shudder runs down your spine. He was big, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. 

He hikes your hip backwards and flush against him. Your palms instinctively clutches around the edge of the table. Joel takes his time, sliding his hard cock between the softness of your thighs. The sensation nearly sends you doubling over. Watching the weeping tip poke through in the reflection, slightly smearing his precum on your clit.

You squeeze your legs together subconsciously, earning a wince from him. He was certain he could come just from fucking your thighs like this. The pace he took now bordered on torturous. Teasing you with everything but giving you nothing. 

You took it upon yourself to stretch your hands between your thighs in an attempt to notch him in you. You were aching. Badly.

Joel lets out a grunt of disapproval, yanking your wrist to pin it behind your back. Leaving you to steady your body weight onto your other hand. “Eager little thing. Daddy ain’t ever teachya patience?”

His snark burned in your cheeks. It was a futile effort. He could see every single expression you were making from your reflection and he fucking thrived on it. Joel takes a hold of his cock, lining it up against your soaked cunt, he slowly drags your slick over his length. You were soaking him before he even started.

Your head dips, clinging onto the fleeting pleasure every time the tip of his cock bumped against your clit. 

“Joel–please just fuck me...”

So he does.

Before you could even catch your breath, he snaps his hips into you. “Deep breath f’me, sweetheart.” If not for his grip around your wrist, you would’ve probably face planted into the dresser. 

The sting from the intrusion of his thickness had your cunt tightening with every move he makes, squeezing the absolute life out of his dick.

Your hair falls in front of your face as he mercilessly fucks you. You swore you could feel him almost grazing the entrance of your cervix. “T-Too..too fucking...big.”

Joel tips his head at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, probably only halfway. He doesn’t say anything yet. Only humming at your whines. “I know baby.”

You look down shakily at where the both of you were connected, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring to the point you hadn’t registered the tears prickling the corner of your eyes. “Hurts…”

Joel seems to feel a tinge of empathy at the way you were struggling to take him, hiccuping through your whines. His gaze flickers to the way your pretty little face scrunched up, doing your fucking best like the good girl you were. A slight groan leaves his lips involuntarily.

All rationality be fucked.

His hand grips around your throat, forcing you to look up at the mirror. 

As humiliating as it was, you couldn’t help but feel increasingly turned on at the sight of his cock fucked into your dripping pussy in squelches. “See that? Takin’ me so ’fuckin’ well.” He sighs into your shoulder. 

The praise has you lifting your hips higher, on your tippy toes–forcing a deeper arch at your hips. With how slick your thighs were, you weren’t even sure yourself if you did come.

Nothing but the sounds of his pelvis snapping into your ass in rhythmic, hard slaps. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder. And you hear him audibly grunt this time. Thrusting into you at a punishing pace. 

Joel could feel the all familiar tightening in his sack, he knew he was close. The sheer suction your soft, slick walls were providing him was nothing he’d ever felt before. He lets go of your throat, both palms gripped around your hips, painful enough to leave a mark. The table rattles under your combined weights and Joel’s frantic thrusts, products rolling and clattering onto the ground. He noses your cheeks, stubble rubbing against your pulse point. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy…” 

You offer a slight whimper at his words, meeting the intensity his thrusts weakly. You both still at the shuffle of footsteps approaching the trailer.

 The sharp knocks against the trailer door has the both of you whipping your head towards it. 

“Everything okay?”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears loudly. The door wasn’t locked.

Joel doesn't answer, simply looking at you. Your expression twists in frustration. Mouthing the words ‘me?’. There wasn't time to deliberate. Your lips parts to speak, barely able to form coherent words. “Y..yeah. A-All good.” 

“Right…productions cutting it close. So if Joel’s oookaaay…”

You cursed internally at how persistent whoever behind the doors was. But you nearly see white when Joel fully slams into you. Deeper than before. You couldn’t control the sharp cry that leaves your lips, but it is soon muffled by Joel’s rough palms covering your mouth.

“M’fine. Give us ten.”

Your tears pool around his hand. Gripping onto his wrists when he continues to pound into you at a faster intensity. You were whining by the time the crewmate finally left. Joel pulls you against his chest. Audibly groaning into your ears now. “Fuck. M’close.” 

You nodded dumbly, not even sure just what at anymore. Shaky hands clinging onto him like a lifeline. With a final rut, his hips stutter, ropes of his cum painting the insides of your walls.

He held it there for a couple of seconds before pulling out. All messy and soaked with your arousal.

You let out a strained exhale at the feeling of loss as your pussy convulses around nothing, pearlescent liquid dripping from your reddened cunt. 

Joel sighs wantonly at the sight. With the state of you, he was briefly worried that he might’ve gone too hard. And then he sees it. Your smaller, manicured hands, pushing more of his dripping come into your folds. Yeah. Joel was fucked.

[conkreetmonkey]

Fun story: My last job was at a restaurant. They hired me among many other workers all at once. This is because the kitchen had recently burnt down, thankfully after hours and without hurting anyone, so they had to temporarily close and rebuild; can't very well run a restaurant with no kitchen, after all. Presumably they'd laid everyone off and were completely restocking their labour pool in like a week. My first day was wonderful. People were patient about training me, the manager was sweet and made sure everyone was staying hydrated, and she even personally brought me a glass of water while I was on my break. Like any person would have, I took this as a good sign. Then, over the next few months, things began to devolve. There's like 5 stories in there about the extortion, ER visits, second-degree burns, and explosive stress diarrhea, but basically that once sweet manager slowly became a demon, and my once fun and kind coworkers began doing things like threatening to harm my work bestie unless I performed unsafe work that was guaranteed to burn me due to inadequate PPE, or yelling obscenities at me for asking perfectly reasonable questions. It went from heaven to hell over the span of a single damp, mild autumn. So, as you can guess, I came to resent the place. But there's another element to it:

in my time working there, I would come to learn that the fire that destroyed the place was entirely preventable; there was a known gas leak in one of the deep fryers, and management knew, but refused to shell out the $15 to patch the line (just like they refused to give us PPE, or generally fix anything ever). Quite a long time after they found out and after many staff reports of this gas leak, one night, it somehow finally ignited, and a $15 expense suddenly turned into tens of thousands of dollars. One night, while I was manning the fryers, I noticed one of them was producing bubbles of opaque white smoke from under the oil. My coworkers assured me it was "normal" and "just some food stuck under there." I've worked many a deep fryer, and had been working those particular ones for months, and never seen such a thing before. It was pretty easy for me to put two and two together on that one. The lifers weren't having it and insisted I ignore it and get back to work. A few weeks later, I quit on the spot after getting cussed out over asking if anybody had put an order in the oven yet. My work bestie was fired shortly afterwards, for what she claims was written down as "disobeying orders." She was very allergic to the fryer oil we used, it made her break out in painful, swollen hives, but the lifers kept insisting on making her clean the fryers, so it was probably that, I imagine. Who knows, though? There came a point where it was never enough, no amount of speed or cleanliness or quality. We were always understaffed, and now they'd fired one of their best workers. I met another one of the coworkers I'd bonded with working elsewhere. It was retail, under a notorious asshole boss, but at least it wasn't there. Her arms were covered in deep burn scars the day she'd walked in, so I imagine she's used to it. I hope she'd okay. I should probably try to check in on her, actually. I never asked if she left or was fired. I know they never patched the leak. They didn't the first time. Of course they didn't learn their lesson, the whole place was just a number in the bloated investment portfolio of some silver spoon fatcat from Toronto, he didn't give a fuck. None of us ever even met him, or learned his name. Fully hands off. We'd pull like $15,000 or even $20,000 some nights, but all made minimum wage, and were always one call-in away from total collapse. They kept cutting hours. They would send people home in the middle of dinner rushes because "we're spending too much money on labour." Schedules became mere suggestions. We were never given end times to begin with. 11 or 12 hour shifts weren't uncommon on my end, but sometimes I'd only get 3. It was a coin flip every night. My point is, the place was managed, on all levels, by people who'd drown if it rained. Thinking about how perfect the place could have been still makes my heart rate increase. It filled a niche with absolutely no local competition. Our profit margins were absurd. And yet the dullards filling the office chairs didn't understand that you need cooks to produce food, and the place began creaking under their weight. I left before something gave. I suppose me leaving was something giving though, in a way. I worked my ass off for that place. I made them thousands, IN PROFIT, every night. I feel like maybe that triggered the exodus that followed, idk. Don't want to aggrandize myself too much. As far as I know, the second burning hasn't happened yet. But it will. It's all but guaranteed to. I hope that, just like last time, nobody's there when it happens. But I also hope that, unlike the first time, this time the entire place completely, unsalvageably burns down to ash, reduced to a concrete foundation. I hope there's nothing left to rebuild. I hope the cycle finally ends. I pretty much never got to take my legally mandated break again after that first shift, btw. Should have seen it as a sign, but it was just one shift right? They needed me, they said. They needed me.