#but I’m doing a million other things rn and i just really needed to get this out haha

[barghuest]

As much as I love this movie I’m still very upset they basically removed Russel and Domino from Deadpool’s family

Like??? You end Deadpool 2 with the found family trope and then you do THAT? And replace them with Shatterstar of all people??

Like I can understand Cable possibly fucking off back into the future or whatever but that made no sense to me. I’m lowkey mad at Wade for abandoning Russel and I’m 100% sure Logan would be too once he finds out cause that man is collecting mutant children like Pokemon

[theemporium]

[3.5k] after his iconic first race win in formula one, lando gets to celebrate with his three favourite people. or, the charlandax smut i accidentally promised after a lando win with a lestappen podium. (smut)

note: this is fucking filthy and i kinda feel like i need to go to a confession booth. okay bye, nobody perceive me after this. she’s also unedited so beware (I’m too lazy to reread and edit rn)

.

Lando Norris felt like he was on top of the fucking world but maybe that was just how it felt from the top step of the podium.

It hadn’t really hit him yet, despite his ears ringing from his own screams and the cheers from the crowd and the fans and his own team. It didn’t feel real until the national anthem began playing through the speakers, until he heard his team singing along, until he realised this was his reality. 

He was a Grand Prix winner. 

Finally. 

Surreal was the only word to describe how he felt. After years of second-place and third-place podium finishes, of people telling him his time would come, of having so many close calls, he did it. He fucking did it. And he didn’t just skim a win, it was fully fucking his as he soared past the chequered flag.

And for once, Lando basked in the knowledge that all eyes were on him. It didn’t give him that prickling, itching feeling under his skin. It didn’t make him want to  hunch his shoulders up to his ears. It didn’t make the little voice in the back of his head send him spiralling over every little thing he could be doing wrong. 

He had just won the Miami Grand Prix and everyone was staring at him and he fucking loved it.

But it meant more than just a win to Lando, it meant so much more than a trophy to add to his collection back home. It was about the years spent achieving this dream. It was about the effort and the support he had from the team to reach this point. It was about sharing this moment and standing on the podium with two people who meant the fucking world to him with the third watching all three of them from down below. 

It meant the fucking world to Lando. 

It was a blur of happiness and excitement and adrenaline as he stood on that top step. It felt like he was in a movie when the trophy was handed to him, the number one staring back at him like it was reminding him he had done it. It felt like a fucking dream when the champagne celebration started, his hand barely wrapped around the neck of the bottle when Charles and Max drenched and drowning him in champagne.

It was completely fucking unbelievable this was finally his reality.

Time was a blur of big smiles, loud cheers and so many people congratulating him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, it made something in his chest burst with pride as he felt his team slap him on the back as he walked through the garage. He felt like his life was complete when you threw your arms around him, tugging him close until your bodies felt like one.

“M’so cold,” he murmured as he wound his arms around you, holding you closer as he buries his face into your neck for some privacy, despite the countless cameras pointing at him.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered back, just loud enough for him to hear because he was the only one who mattered in that moment. “This is the first of many.”

He sniffled, feeling his throat close up a bit but he just squeezed you tighter when the words didn’t come out as smoothly as he wanted. 

However, you were pulled away from him seconds later as he was directed towards the camera. With media duties and team debriefs and many more commitments, he didn’t have time to stop and celebrate with the people he wanted. He had to perform for the cameras, for the fans, for the people watching before he could. 

And honestly, he couldn't complain. There were worse problems to have.

His brain was running a million miles an hour, so many thoughts and feelings and emotions to try and comprehend that he barely noticed the other person in his driver’s room until the door shut behind him and he felt a pair of lips on his. 

“I am so proud of you, mon champion,” Charles murmured against his lips, the kiss short-lived due to the huge smile on his face. He pulled back enough to look at Lando properly, his hands holding the Brit’s face. “So, so proud of you.”

Lando felt his cheeks burn. “M’glad you and Max were up there with me,” he admitted, that funny feeling in his chest returning before he glanced around the room noticing that Charles was the only one in his driver room. “Where are the others?” Pause. “How did you even sneak in here?”

“I have my ways,” Charles answered vaguely, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And I’m here to help you hurry up. They are waiting in the car.” 

Lando snorted. “And they sent you to hurry me up?” 

“I may have come third, mon amour, but I’m still fast.” 

Despite his words, it took a few more minutes of Charles pressing kisses all over his face and mumbling a load of French that Lando didn’t understand before he was finally able to grab his belongings and make it out of the McLaren motorhome. 

His whole body was buzzing with energy, far too hyped up to even care about the way his face burned when he climbed into the backseat of Charles’ race weekend car, unable to wipe the smile off his face. 

This. 

This was what he had been waiting for. 

This moment to be with the people who loved more than his heart knew he was capable of. A moment to be with the people who believed in him no matter what, even when the rest of the world doubted him. 

And if Lando was being so completely honest, he was so lost in the buzz of his win that he didn’t think anything about your hand resting on his upper thigh. He was still lost in the race a few hours ago, still lost in the feeling of crossing the line and hearing Will’s voice over the radio confirming he secured his first Formula One Grand Prix win. 

So lost in that moment that he barely had a chance to drop his backpack on the floor of Max’s huge hotel suite before the Dutchman was reaching for him. With the privacy of the hotel room door locked from the rest of the world, Max didn’t hold back as he raked his hand through Lando’s curls. His fingers twisted in his hair, tugging sharply as his teeth nipped the Brit’s bottom lip. 

Lando couldn’t help himself when he let out a whine.

“Fuck,” Max groaned, tugging on his hair again as he watched Lando’s eyes flutter shut. “Look at our race winner, hm? So pretty, schat.”

Lando’s lips parted but words were lost on him. Instead, his eyes darted where you saddled up against Max’s side, head resting on his shoulder as you looked at Lando with a massive grin. 

“I think you broke him,” you teased, a faux pout on your lips. “Guess that throws all our plans out the window.”

Lando blinked before quickly shaking his head. “I—no, wait, what plans?”

Max grinned. “Your reward, baby. Didn’t think we were gonna celebrate your big day, huh?”

“I—” Lando paused, feeling something deep in his stomach twist in desire. “I just…I don’t know. I thought we were gonna go out…or something.”

“We could,” Charles spoke up as he slipped in behind Lando, his hands on the younger boy’s waist. “If that’s what you want. We can go out and celebrate with everyone else.”

Lando swallowed. “Or?”

“Or,” you repeated, your eyes lingering on his kiss-swollen lips. “You let us treat you like a proper race winner.”

“And what does that treatment include?” Lando asked, because that was just who he was. That little brat in him that wanted to know his options, that wanted to know exactly how he was being rewarded, who wanted to know exactly what was getting done to him. The little brat in him that was mouthy and sassy and usually got put in his place—that wanted to be put in his place.

And Max knew that. He knew that if he reached down, Lando was probably half-hard already. He knew that no matter what he said, Land would be down for it. He could see the glint in the Brit’s eyes, that realisation of what he could have without realising it. 

“Anything you want,” Max murmured, his thumb lightly tracing along Lando’s bottom lip. “You’re the winner, Lando. Our winner.”

…

Anything you want. 

That was his limit—completely fucking endless. He had all the control in the palm of his hands to do whatever he pleased, whatever he desired, whatever he fucking wanted. 

But that wasn’t what Lando wanted. He didn’t want to be in charge. He didn’t want to be the person making the calls and decisions. That wasn’t his role in the bedroom and he never really wanted to be. He liked being the one who got to lay back, the one that people tried to tame and dominate only to realise he didn’t listen as easily as people wanted. 

He liked being the one that people worked to break. 

So, that was exactly what Max gave to him and Lando only slightly regretted his decision as he slumped back against the Dutchman, grinding his ass back against the older boy’s straining cock as he threw his head back against Max’s shoulder.

“Please, please, please,” Lando whined, trying to buck his hips forwards but Max kept his body in place, just where he wanted him. “S’too much.”

“I know, schatje,” Max mused, pressing a lingering kiss at the base of his neck just to hear Lando let out a small moan at the contact. “But look how pretty they look for you, all for you. You don’t want them to stop, do you?” 

But Lando couldn’t bring himself to respond. 

“None of that,” Max muttered, squeezing Lando’s sides to get the boy to listen. “Thought my winner was gonna be good for me, huh? Look at them, Lando. Look how good they are being for you. Look at how much they are enjoying this.”

The boy only managed to let out a whimper as he fluttered his eyes open, his chin tucking into his chest as he looked down at the sight Max was demanding of him. 

And, fuck, it made his knees buckle.

The two of you were absolute fucking messes. It felt like something out of a porno, one that would have Lando panting and whining and fantasising about because never once did he think it was realistic. And yet, here you and Charles were, looking like something out of his deepest desires. 

He couldn’t focus on one of you, it would have been a crime to not stare and ogle you both. The way you both looked utterly perfect on your knees in front of him, glossy eyes and flushed cheeks and looking so fucking blissed out as you both worshipped his cock—like you were fulfilling a purpose, like this was what the two of you were made for. 

And it was messy as fuck, something that maybe would have been gross to everyone else in the world, but Lando thought it was so fucking hot. The evidence of his previous orgasms splattered across you both, covering your lips and chins and naked chests. The way your lips wrapped around the head of his cock as Charles licked down the underside of his cock until he nosed Lando's balls. The way Charles had one hand wrapped around his leaking cock, pumping and stroking himself as you squeezed and played with your tits like it would give you some relief. 

But it wasn’t about your pleasure or Charles’ or Max’s. 

It was all about Lando. 

“Such good sluts on their knees for you,” Max muttered, lips brushing against his ear as his warm breath tickled against Lando’s skin. “Usually that’s you, schat. Getting on your knees for me, doing whatever I tell you.”

“Fuck,” he let out in a breathless whimper, turning his head to try and nuzzle his face into Max’s neck. 

“Do you like this, Lando? Like seeing them be such whores for your cock? So desperate and needy?” Max continued, his hands tightening on the younger boy’s waist as he looked down at you and Charles.

You let out a whine at his words, your thighs clenched together and your eyes fluttering shut as you traced your tongue along the slit of his cock. Your moans vibrated around his cock, leaving the boy a puddle underneath your touch as Charles placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his balls. 

“Bet they would stay there all night if you wanted them to,” Max mused as his eyes caught teary green eyes staring up at him, desperation shining in the pretty colour of them. “Bet Charles would love to take your cock down his pretty throat, he always does it so well for me. Hm, amour? Think you could take our pretty winner’s cock like a good boy?”

The sound Charles let out was pitiful and straight out of a fucking porno.

“Max,” Lando breathed out, his hands reaching back to try and grab onto the Dutchman. “Please, I-I need…”

“What do you need?” Max questioned, squeezing his sides. “Need more than their mouths, baby? Or maybe you need more than that.”

Lando felt his whole face burn as he let out a shameless moan when one of Max’s hands began wandering, when his fingers brushed along his skin before squeezing the fat of his ass. 

“The champagne wasn’t enough, hm? Maybe we need to fill you up,” Max suggested, like it was something as casual as talking about dinner options. “Bet you’d feel so nice and tight around me, baby. Maybe let Charles fill your pretty throat instead.”

“Please,” Lando whined.

“Yeah, you want that?” He could feel Max’s smile against his skin. “Let our pretty girl bounce on your cock whilst we fill you up? She would look so pretty sitting on top of you.”

Lando nodded his head vigorously, his nails slightly digging into Max’s skin. “I need it, Max, need it so bad.”

Max’s teeth scraped along the side of his neck. “Beg for it.” 

So he did. 

He begged for it until his voice was hoarse and his legs were shaking and his babbles were practically incoherent. He begged until he felt Max’s lips on his skin, joined by Charles and yours moments later as you three kissed and worshipped every inch of his body. He begged until his face was burning red, his blush spreading down his neck and chest as you praised him—your race winner—until he couldn’t take it any more.

He begged for it as you held his face, prepping kisses all over his face whilst Max worked him open. 

He begged for it as Charles marked along his neck and chest to help him relax as Max slowly slid inside him, stretching him open until he was a whimpering mess.

He begged for it as you slowly sunk down on his cock, your cunt already soaking and slick with your own arousal as he buried himself inside you. 

He begged for it until his hands were gripping Charles’ thighs, nails digging into his skin as he urged his cock further down his throat until he felt fucking full.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, rocking your hips back and forth as you let your hands skim along his skin. Your fingers traced along the planes of his abs, watching them softly clench under your touch before you traced along his sides. You kept your hands moving, feeling the need to touch every fucking inch of him as he preened and squirmed under your touch. “You look so perfect like this.” 

Lando let out a muffled moan around Charles’ cock.

“Letting us fill you up, make you feel so good,” you continued, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. “This is what our race winner deserves. So pretty and fast today, baby, it’s so hot.”

One of his hands let go of Charles, blindly reaching out towards you until you caught the hint to intertwine your fingers together. You raised it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss onto the back of his hand and something about the soft gesture whilst his body was being fucked into an inch of his life made the boy spiral. 

He couldn’t do anything but just take it, let the overwhelming pleasure wash over him until his whole body felt like it was on fire. His nerve endings felt like they had been turned up beyond the dial, like every touch was more thrilling than he could ever imagine. The words of praise was a muffled mess around him, three voices all mixed together as he felt hands all over his body. He felt safe, he felt full, he felt complete. 

It was a blur of too much pleasure and excitement and gratification when he finally came, white spots dotting his vision as he felt himself completely spill inside you whilst your cunt clenched around him, as Max’s cock hit the perfect spot deep inside him with every thrust. He was so lost in his own orgasm, in his own moans and whines and noises to fully realise the domino effect he started. 

To really appreciate the sight of you coming on his cock, bouncing up and down on his cock whilst your tits moved with each thrust. To really enjoy the sensation of Max coming deep inside him, squeezing him so hard that he was sure his skin would bruise the next day. To watch the way Charles stroked himself a few more times before spilling over his chest, just for you to lean down and lick up the mess until you leaned down to kiss him senseless. 

To be completely honest, he was waiting to wake up and realise this whole day was a dream. 

But he blinked. And blinked once more for good measure. And your smiling face was still there to reassure him this was real, that everything about today was real. 

“Hey,” he whispered, voice a little rough and hoarse. 

“Hey, baby,” you grinned back at him as you raised your hand to gently cup his face, your thumb wiping away a few stray tears that slipped out. “How are you feeling, Mr Race Winner?”

And despite the exhaustion settled deep in his bones, Lando beamed at you. “Feel like I’m the king of this fucking world.”

You giggled. “Then our job here is complete.” 

Lando huffed out a laugh, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to fight the urge to curl up and sleep for the next week straight. 

“Don’t tell me that’s you done for the night,” Max’s voice spoke from somewhere else in the room, somewhere away from the bed but Lando couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. “There’s a whole city wanting to celebrate with you tonight.”

“Ugh, being a race winner is so much work,” Lando whined playfully, reaching for you to pull you closer before you could pull away from him. “Let’s just stay here forever.”

“All a part of the title, mon amour,” Charles teased as he settled down beside the younger boy on the bed. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss to Lando’s forehead. “I heard the other drivers making bets on who could buy you the most shots.”

Lando let out a breath. “Fuck, they are gonna try to kill me.”

“We wouldn’t let that happen,” you assured him, but he could hear the smile in your voice. “I’m sure Max would join you.”

“Thanks, schat,” Max grumbled as he wandered back into the room, a wet washcloth in his hand. “We have a few hours before we are meant to meet everyone anyways. Have a nap, you can shower when you wake up.”

Lando blinked his eyes open, a cheeky smile on his face. “Alone?”

Max rolled his eyes. “It’s never enough for you.”

“I’m a high maintenance guy,” Lando replied. 

“We know,” you murmured with a snort, only to gasp when he pinched your side. “Hey!”

“You can’t yell at me, I’m a race winner,” he shot back at you, grinning wider when you rolled your eyes. 

“Yes, that is exactly how this works,” Charles snorted as he slumped down on the pillow beside Lando, reaching for the Brit to curl up beside him. “That and club blowjobs.”

“It was one time,” Max grumbled. “And it wasn’t even my idea!”

“I didn’t regret it for a second,” you smiled shamelessly at the Dutchman before raising your hand, trying to pull him down onto the bed with the three of you. “C’mon, we can clean up properly later. I wanna cuddle.” 

“So needy.”

“In the wise words of race winner Lando Norris, I’m a high maintenance guy.”

“Hell yeah, baby,” Lando murmured, his cheek pressed into the pillow with a sleepy smile on his face. “Someone stitch that onto a pillow.” 

“Please go to sleep before I gag you both.” 

“They would probably like that, mon amour.”

“You too, Charles.” 

“Always so bossy, Verstappen.”

.

[lovelynicho]

Hii!! I’m feeling angsty rn 😞

Andteam’s reaction when you walk away crying/cry or flinching in an argument you get the idea?? HSHSH hopefully it won’t be too hard to write and tyyy. Love your works mwaps!! 🫶🫶

&team reaction - to you crying/flinching in an argument

Pairing: bf!&team x gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: one curse word in EJ's; mention of abusive relationship in Yuma's; not proofread

Notes: it's my first time writing something as angsty as this so I hope you like it; english is not my first language I apologize for any mistakes; and I'm sorry for not posting for so long, I didn't have the motivation to write😔

Masterlist

K

He's very strong, therefore he can be really scary at times. Especially when arguing. You hate arguing with him, so you usually try to leave when it gets a little out of hand, so both of you can calm down alone. Him on the other hand, although he hates arguing too, is a firm believer that everything needs to be discussed right then and there. This difference between you can cause some problems. Once when you were in a big argument with him, you decided that it should be ended, told him that you can't deal with that right now and you're going to your room to calm down a little, alone. But he didn't want to let it go, so he grabbed your wrist and continued yelling his problems at you. But his grip was too strong, it was painful. You looked at him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes "Yudai, it hurts" you said quietly. He looked at his hand and realisation hit him. He let go of your wrist, looked at you for a few seconds before saying "I'm sorry". Slowly and softly wrapped his arms around you and he kept repeating those words a million times: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry...."

Fuma

Although he is the most gentlemanly gentleman to ever step foot on Earth, he is incredibly strong and has a really deep voice. These two things can make him seem rather scary when you guys are in a serious fight. One day a little fight went a little too far. Both of you were just tired, working more than you should so even a little misunderstanding can turn into fighting. You two were just yelling at each other. At this point you couldn't even tell why you started to fight you just had to let the tension out. But when Fuma made a sudden move in your direction you screamed and backed until your back hit the wall. You were just looking at each other. His eyes were in pain, more like worried actually. He slowly approached you and when you didn't scare away he hugged you, his lips next to your ears whispering. "I could never hurt you. I love you so much, I would never want you to be in pain"

Nicholas

Although Nicholas is a sweetheart, I think we can all agree that from the outside he looks rather intimidating, even scary at times. And this feature of his does not do any good when the two of you are fighting. He also seems like the type to lose his temper pretty easily which is also bad for the situation. Once you had a really big fight. Both of you probably knew that you could settle it calmly but you built up so much stress at work and from life itself that you just had to let it out and unfortunately you chose to let it out on each other. You were at fault too, you said something really hurtful to Nicholas and he felt like he will explode if he doesn't release the tension. So out of anger he hit the wall closest to him. But that was right in fron of you and for a second you thought that he aimed at you. So you closed your eyes and just waited while tears were falling from your eyes. But instead the punch you expected you only felt warm arms wrapping around you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you..... I could never hurt you" he whispered. Then you just stayed there for a while, crying everything out in his comforting arms.

EJ

Our leader is such a sweet guy. Even though he's tall and quite strong you just need one look at his boba eyes and you already feel safe. His soft speaking nature also adds to the feeling of comfort he gives to not just you, but everyone around him. But as the leader he has lots of duties and also has to take care of not less than eight people. Believe me when I say, sometimes man is tired. And that day when he went over to spend time with you he was especially tired and stressed from work, he just didn't want to cancel the date because he hasn't seen you for what felt like forever. But when he got to you and you kept just asking him about his day and what they have been up to nowadays eventough he said he doesn't want to talk about work, he had enough. "Why can't you just shut up for a second? I cane over to have a calm evening but you just keep bothering me, I'm literally just wasting my time with you now" he yelled. His words shot straight to your heart. You managed to mutter a small 'sorry' and at least start walking away to your room before the tears started falling down your cheeks but he heard your sniffles. And standing there he knew, he fucked up.

Yuma

He probably wouldn't have scared you like that if it wasn't for your past. You had an abusive relationship before you met him. Your ex used to beat you up and it was hard for you to manage to get away from him. But with Yuma it was different. He was the nicest man you've ever met and the thought of him hurting you never entered your mind. But when you were having a rather bad fight every memory of your ex that layed in the back of your mind suddenly came back. That's the reason why when he lifted his hand as he was aggressively explaining something to you in the heat of the argument you instantly put your hands infront of your face as protection. You weren't scared of Yuma, it was more like an instinct, but he didn't know that. "I didn't mean to scare you" he muttered, much softer now than before "I'm so sorry y/n". "No, it's not your fault" you said as you stepped closer to him to assure him that you really weren't scared at all "it was just an instinct because of my ex. It really has nothing to do with you. I'm sorry" and with that you hugged him tightly. But he still whispered in your ears hoping to comfort you "don't ever apologise for something like this. It's not your fault love"

Jo

He's a sweetheart. I don't think he could ever even talk loud let alone make you cry. So if you cry in an argument then both of you cry, there's no other option. When you ended up in a bad argument you just threw every word against each other even if you didn't mean it. You hated it. Seeing him mad, being mad at him. You felt tears in your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks. When he saw that he couldn't say another word, instead he did exactly what you did, salty drops of water running from his eyes. You just looked at each other. No talk. Words weren't needed. Those things made you cry. You ended up cuddling on the couch crying out everything silently.

Harua

Usually Harua is a very soft person. I mean you can already tell it from his cute almost boyish looks. However when he's in a fight he can be surprisingly strong minded. You learned that in your first serious fight with him. He stood very firmly by his point believing he was right, when in reality he wasn't. At first you tried to convince him calmly but after a while you just had enough and instead of keep trying to solve the problem in a calm way you started yelling at him. As an answer he also raised his voice and even gesticulated to prove his point but the moves of his hands were huge and firm you've never seen him raise his hand this strongly before so as an instinct you flinched. And that's when he realised that he went too far. "I'm so so so so so sorry" he said already crying with his hands infront of his mouth. "I don't want to hurt you I swear" he kept going on about that. "It's okay I just over reacted" you answered as you softly wrapped your hands around his waist and pulled him into your chest.

Taki

This guy is always full of jokes and pranks. He just sometimes forgets to think about what if the given joke or prank is not funny but actually hurtful to someone. One day when you were at the dorm, this exact scenario happened. Taki just intended to make a joke but didn't consider that it was actually pretty hurtful to you. At first you just stayed silent because you didn't want to talk about how wath he said made you feel so bad. But when he noticed that you became more silent than before he tried to make you talk with another joke which was a huge mistake. You flipped out yelling at him about how hurtful his joke felt for you personally and that he should have considered your feelings. But his reaction to that was just him saying "relax, it was just a joke, if you can't take that, say that, and I won't tell it anymore" and that made you angrier. "Taki it's not that I can't take a joke it's just that your joke was not funny, it only made me feel bad and I can't even look at you right now" you yelled as tears started to roll down your cheeks. And with that you just left the dorm. In shock, he just sat down on the ground trying to figure out what to do.

Maki

Maki is a nice guy, everybody and their mother knows that. But sometimes even he can have bad days. Unfortunately you decided to come over unannounced to the dorm on one of those days when he would just rather be alone. When you arrived of course he was still happy for you, but in contrast to his, your day has been so good that you kept rambling. After some time you asked about his day and even after him saying that he would rather not talk about that now you asked one more time if he was sure and that was it for him. He almost started to yell at you infront of everyone in the living room but thankfully he still had the manners to keep these things privately. So he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room, shut his door as strong as he could and he started yelling at you only noticing minutes later that you were so scared from his sudden change of moods that you backed away from him and tears were built up in your eyes. When he realised how bad the situation was he decided not to talk anymore. Just went up to you and wrapped you in a tight, warm, comforting hug. A hug that lasted maybe five minutes, maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour. You didn't know and you couldn't care less when you had each other so close.

[nanawritesit]

Jungkook Imagine: Taking Care of Him When He Gets Sick From Playing with Bam in the Rain

a/n: i think i might have accidentally deleted the actual request for this when i was cleaning out my ask box, but i know for a FACT it was requested 😤 it’s been on on my to do list for a while now, and i miss him sm rn, so here it is :)

TW: sick!jungkook, it’s just a cold but he’s kinda whiny, living together, mentions of food

—————

“Jeon Jungkook, you get back here right now!” you screeched from the back porch steps. It was pouring down rain and chilly, but you were safely tucked under an awning with one of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts on.

“Don’t worry, honey!” he yelled back, chasing his pet doberman all around the backyard. “Bam loves the rain!”

“It’s not Bam I’m worried about!” you retorted. “You’re not wearing a coat or hat, and you’re gonna get sick!”

“I’m not going to get sick!” he argued, putting his hands on his hips sassily. “Don’t worry about me! Just go back inside, I’ll be there in a bit. I just want to make sure Bam gets some exercise in.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back around to walk into your shared apartment. Songie and Paengie, your other two greyhounds, cocked their heads at you as you entered the living room.

“Kids, your daddy is an idiot.” you sighed, petting their heads.

—————

“Ugghhhh….” you heard your boyfriend moan from his bedroom.

You laughed to yourself as you finished preparing his soup. Oh how you loved being right.

Picking up the bowl and a big glass of water, you made your way down the hall to where he laid in his bed, bundled up in a million blankets.

“There’s my beautiful nurse…” he beamed with a crooked smile when he looked up and saw you. All three dogs perked up from their places on the bed, looking at you with wide eyes.

You gave him a warm smile and sat down on the bed next to him. “I made you some chicken noodle soup. And here’s some water, you’ll need to stay hydrated.”

“You’re the best, baby.” he pouted affectionately, sitting up to take the bowl from you. He winced as he did so. “Ah, it hurts to move…”

“Your muscles are just weaker because your body’s trying to fight off the infection.” you explained with a small smile.

“Is that why I’ve been so tired?” he asked, eyes sparkling innocently. You would think he’d never been sick before.

You nodded in confirmation. “You’ll need to get lots of rest to get better.”

He blew on a spoonful of the soup, then ate it slowly. His eyes squinted shut at the warmth and comfort of the meal. “This is so good. Literally the best thing you’ve ever cooked for me.”

You scoffed dramatically. “Ouch, thanks darling.” you grumbled sarcastically.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” he pleaded, reaching for your hand. “I just meant that it’s really touching that you’d take the time to make me soup while I’m sick!”

“I know, baby.” you shushed him, brushing some of his hair back. “I was just teasing.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, going back to his soup. “That isn’t a very nice thing to do to a sick person.”

“Well, if you had listened to your partner, you wouldn’t be sick right now.” you quipped back, a satisfied smirk on your face.

“Yeah, you’re right…” he sighed in defeat. “I definitely learned my lesson.”

You grinned triumphantly. “Good boy. Have you been feeling any better?”

“Not really. My throat still hurts and my nose is runny.” he complained. “But having you take care of me makes me feel a bit better.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “It’s no trouble. I’m not heartless after all. Hearing you admit I was right is reward enough.”

He chuckled at your cheekiness. “If I wasn’t so sick right now, I’d kiss you.”

“Awh…” you pouted, rubbing his thigh comfortingly. “When you’re better you can give me the biggest kiss in the world.”

“That’s all the motivation I need.” he grinned hopefully.

“Alright then, finish your soup and water and go straight back to bed.” you instructed, ruffling his hair a bit before you stood up to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yes, nurse.” he replied, giving you a theatrical salute.

You chuckled, then leaned forward to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, Y/N.” he whimpered as you opened the door.

You turned around momentarily to smile at him. “I love you too, baby. I hope you feel better soon.”

[weirdmageddon]

i posted this on twitter also but it’s still eating at me. i’m so fucking embarrassed to be jewish rn. i dont want to be associated with this ongoing bullshit from israel. why do we need our own state. theyre just making every jew across the globe look bad in general even though many of us are conflicted about zionism and the legitimacy of israel as a state

people have hated jews throughout history for no fuckin reason but now israel exists but now its like. GIVING people reasons to hate us as a group. note that i DON’T conflate zionism with jewishness, but a lot of people in the world don’t know the difference because theyre uninformed and been dripfed cultural antisemitic tropes their whole life and that’s the scary part is them falsely putting two and two together. like what the fuck israel stop youre just putting fuel on the fire for people around the world to hate an entire group of historically persecuted people if youre being this shitty with your insane colonialism and apartheid like……I Want No Fuckin Part Of This. you’re spelling our own doom. you cant just swoop in and go “mine now” and then oppress the people you took land from under a regime without my blood boiling at the injustice no matter WHO you are. even if my lineage is tied to you. so when news outlets support israel it doesn’t feel like they have the best interest of jews as a people in mind. it’s in the interest of a zionist ethnostate and whatever that christian zionism belief is about the jewish people returning to the holy land as prerequisite for the second coming of jesus. its not like they care about us as a dispersed ethnocultural group, it’s all for that religious narrative that a bunch of people in the US are backing.

saying you want all jews to die is antisemitic. beating someone up because they’re jewish and no other reason without knowing their views is antisemitic. criticizing human rights violations perpetrated by israel and the belief that one group deserves more rights another is not antisemitic. and the fact that israel has the ability to pull that antisemitism card in response to criticisms of the violations they commit because their state is the “jewish homeland” drives me fucking insane. take fucking accountability for your actions. and yes, there do exist full-on anti-jewish groups in the middle east that go beyond hatred of israel’s policies and existence as a state and i’m tired of people pretending there aren’t in fear of appearing to seem like they support the state of israel. on the other side of things many people overestimate this by fearmongering and saying EVERY arab is out to get jews worldwide, telling people like me “they want YOU dead”. this is not the belief every person in the middle east and it really rubs me the wrong way that people group millions of individuals into all-encompassing lumps like this. many people there do understand nuance of this political situation.

even if i have that “right of return” by israeli law or whatever, i don’t feel obliged to it; it does not register as fair. why do i have a “right of return” when i’ve never even been there in the first place while palestinians who have homes there can’t return to them? what’s the basis for that? substituting objective reality with an imaginary reality? i don’t think like that. i can hypothetically come and go whenever i please but palestinians are severely limited in mobility? what makes me more entitled to that land than the people who lived there for centuries? nothing that comes from natural law thats for sure. it’s all artificial and inflated.

but at the same time i also dont want to be the target of antisemitism and caught in the fray just for being ethnically jewish. once people start calling for the genocide of entire groups we’ve got issues (and you better believe this absolutely applies to the palestinian victims in gaza too), because people who dissent to the violence perpetrated by the loudest are caught in there with the people who are perpetrating the violence. lack of nuance. people conflating israel and its zionist apartheid policies with jewish ethnicity and culture worldwide. other people conflating being terrorist anti-jew with muslims worldwide (like that 6-year old palestinian-american boy that was just stabbed to death in chicago). scary times man. but as a jew i can’t just opt out of this if it’s how i was born as. i don’t have control over that. but i can control what i think and what my beliefs are

[pandafruit]

Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.

So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.

What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?

She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.

Now, a lot changes from here.

Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.

Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.

Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.

Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).

Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.

When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.

Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.

When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.

There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao

[quitealotofsodapop]

So Mk gets surprise eggo because of paint and confined space and lack of food? Imagine that he has no idea what’s wrong with him, he goes to Lao Tzu, and when Lao Tzu goes “congrats on the baby” Everyone just kinda stops.

And Mk bursts into tears so loudly that all of heaven can hear. He’s all “I can’t have a baby, it’s too dangerous!” And “I’m not ready!” Pigsy and Wukong are trying to comfort him, and the poor boys is just a sobbing mess.

And Lao Tzu is just standing there like “?????”

Sorry MK XD You're getting Egged

Bonus Anon asks:

Referencing this post where someone pointed out that MK could theoretically create a Stone Egg + the sequel that pointed out that he'd most likely do it on accident.

I could see this most likely happening in the Canon! verse since I bet the other au MK's would be more wary of Stone Egg mishaps. But I could 100% see it happening in the SlowBoiled au since that causes more drama.

And as much as I love the idea of MK becoming *ahem* egg'd as the result of a bad guy's plans or a huge catarosphe, I think it would fit more if MK did it completely on accident.

So the idea:

Post S3 MK decides that he needs some "Me time" and takes a break from work and training after the whole "Saving the world from a bone demon"-thing. He just needs some time to shut off completely from his responsibilities in the city. His friends understand and wish him well, even though they're worried since MK won't tell him *Where* he's taking a break to.

"Where" turns out to be a cool cave-let MK found while exploring FFM during S2 with no Monkey King to hover over him. Its quiet, it's secluded, its completely off-grid... But MK just can't relax. His brain is all busy, and everytime he sleeps he sees Her.

So he starts painting. And drawing. And using charcoal. Maybe a little rough pottery with the muddy clay-like stuff in the water? And soon enough he's looking like his Artist Clone with how caked in material he is.

In liu of going to sleep and risking terrible bone demon nightmares, MK meditates like how he saw the Monkey King do. In these moments his thoughts wander into deep, dark teritory. Real "call of the void"-type of thoughts.... hey should he eat something? It's been... oh gosh Pigsy's gonna killl him if he doesn't at least text to tell him how his sabbatical is going.

After his inpromtu vacation is up, MK feels... really gross? Maybe thats cus he hasn't really washed or slept or ate, or spoken to anyone in all that time. Weird.

Pigsy asks him how long it's been since MK last ate a full meal, and huffs with disappointment at his nervous laugh before pouring his son a bowl of noodles.

Bouts of nausea and dizziness follow MK everywhere afterwards. He had no idea why - paint fumes maybe? Did some toxic chemical seep into his skin? Did he get sick somehow from isolating himself in that cave? Is that Jin and Yin trying to take over the city?

At somepoint in the utter chaos of S4 likely as the rest of the gang are recieving training from Subodhi; a certain alchemist meets MK to whisper a few questions into his ear.

Lao Tzu: "I was told that you've been experiencing extreme power fluctuations for the last few weeks. May I run a few test to rule out any abnormalities?" MK: "Oh cool, no probs! Just don't put me in that furnace thing-y." (*a few tests later*) Lao Tzu: "Ok great news, it's not a curse or medical problem." MK: "Phew! Then why is my body feels like its "glitching" all the time?" Lao Tzu: "Thats a decaying glamour spell. Its likely that you had one affixed to you shortly before you were given up by your creators." MK: "Glamour spell...? Wait, then what about my powers wigging out?" Lao Tzu: "Oh thats easy. You're just pregnant." MK (has not Done the Do): "What!?"

Mere seconds after Lao Tzu gives the diagnosis - MK just starts bawling.

He doesn't want this! Not now! He does want to have kid while all This is going on! The world might be ending for Buddha's sake!

MK is having a million panic attacks rn. He wants to have kids, so many, but only in the *Future*! When he's like semi-retired and has a protege of his own to take over the monkey business- HEY WAIT, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!?!

Subodhi has to drop the big lore that MK is a Stone Monkey - capable of reproducing asexually under extreme circumstances, in order to clear up the whole immaculate conception part.

Then Lao Tzu has to tell MK that the Stone Egg he carries will likely Kill him since he's (mostly) mortal.

MK starts crying before deciding to tackle the issue Later.

Ofc MK simply doesn't want his family to worry about him what with all this Brotherhood stuff going on... so he just keeps quiet for now.

His family are going to find out soon though. And by Guanyin, Pigsy is gonna freak.

Macaque (and later Wukong), just need to sniff MK once after they reunite to notice whats up.

Wukong offers to grab some No-Baby Spring Water immediately if MK doesnt want to keep the Egg. Macaque briefly panics thinking that the kid got knocked up the old-fashioned way... only to panic harder when he and Wukong determine it to be a Solo-Made Stone Egg(!!!). Cue two panicking fellow Stone Monkeys making MK feel even worse about his conflicted feelings on the matter.

Pls add on what you think so far! :3

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Addicted

Pairing: Felix x reader

Summary: You’re obsessed with him, enchanted by him, too bad he’s taken...

Warnings: fem!reader, dom reader, sub lix, handjob, marking, slight humiliation, slight degradation 

Word count: 5k

A/N: I’ve had this written for like 2 weeks now but felt bad about posting bc i have a whole bunch of requests that i haven’t gotten around to. so if your one of the people that requested, dunno when i’ll get around to it but i will, i have like a million wips rn and i’m trying to get through all of them

It was a bad habit, you knew. 

Smoking.

You’d been a teenager once. Had the professionals talk about it, listened to all the same bullshit warnings; that your lungs would turn shrivelled and black-that cancer would bloom. Seen the pictures of the smoke-free lungs compared to healthy ones.

You knew it would end up killing you. You weren’t stupid. 

But they filled you with warmth, calmed you down, made everything feel a sort of numb as you stood out on the balcony of the apartment.

There was shouting inside, laughter and talking, the others all hanging out, having fun. 

You were supposed to be in there. Your step-sister-Avery had invited you, told you that you needed to make friends and get out more but you didn’t really feel as if you fit in with her type of crowd.

They weren’t actively trying to make you feel that way of course-in fact if anything they were very welcoming, asking you about yourself, trying to get you to contribute to the conversations, you just...

You didn’t know really how you felt, just that you told everyone that you would be right back, and now here you were cigarette hanging loosely from your lips, nicotine filling your lungs.

It was a horrible habit really-one you had thought about breaking dozens of times but never did.

You could stop anytime you wanted, if you wanted to but you didn’t need to yet so there was no point.

The slider door opened behind you.

At least smoking would take your mind off certain things.

“Why’d you leave?” Certain things like this.

Warm arms wrapped around your torso, head falling onto your shoulder into your hair, inhaling the smell of you. You and your slightly floral scent-perfume, maybe? 

Of course along with the pungent stale smell of the smoke. 

A smell that he hated in the beginning-it made his eyes water and his nose screw up in distaste. It was gross and bitter, a foul odour that reminded him of grime and dirty crowded cities.

But now the smell was you. It stained your clothing, lingered in your hair, clung to you like a second skin. It was addicting.

“Not really my scene y’know? Needed a bit of a break.” You sighed, twisting around to look at him. 

His hair had gotten a bit longer but you liked it. A bit shaggy and a bit messy but boyish, cute in a way that made you want to play with it all the time. He had talked about getting a haircut earlier that week but you’d managed to convince him not to. 

After all, the longer it is, the easier it is to pull.

That was your winning point to sway his decision.

“You should go back inside Felix. The others will notice that you’re gone.” 

He cocked his head to the side, hair moving along with the action. “Why? Don’t want me around?” A small pout adorns his lips with the question, bottom lip pushed out in a way that makes your heart do flips in your chest. 

You did.

You really, really did.

You wanted this more than you could even put into words.

Wanted to stay like this for just a bit longer. The feel his arms wrapped around you, his attention focused on you. Wanted for this to be a normal thing that happened, a normal thing that didn’t only happen when he was horny.

But he wasn’t yours.

And that was all just a fantasy.

You knew that.

You knew that too well as he nuzzled his nose into your throat, lips finding purchase against your neck. You took another drag, deeply sighing out, body shuddering as he whined for you to touch him-anywhere.

As he whined about how needy and desperate he was for you-somewhere-anywhere would suffice. As long as it was warm flesh against warm flesh, soft skin against soft skin, you touching him.

A moan slipped out, followed by another as he nipped at your pulse-point. “Please?”

His hands softly pushed your hair back, fingertips grazing your jaw, moving it out of the way for more purchase. “I need you.”

“Felix.” The words were a plead more than a command. A beg for him to stop, for him to make the decision you were too weak to make.

Because it was so hard to turn him down. So hard to tell him no because you wanted this-god-you wanted this so bad. Wanted to make him feel good, wanted to fill every single thought in that pretty little head of his. Wanted every single one of them to be you. 

You. You. You.

Only you.

Even if it wasn’t true, you loved to live in the delusion of it-the fantasy make-believe world where maybe, just maybe he could be yours.

“Please, touch me~”

The cigarette hung loosely from your fingers.

“Felix.”

His breath was hot as his mouth moved lower, down to your collarbone. “You know you want to.” He muttered lowly, kissing up your cleavage. “And I want you to.”

The smell of him, you couldn’t even name what it was but it was utterly intoxicating-so much more than nicotine could ever be.

Some part of you came back and suddenly you were very aware of the voices still talking and laughing inside.

She was right inside.

Finally, with that thought, you were pushing him away. “Felix no, your girlfriend is right inside that door.” You stepped back, far enough that a good three feet of space stayed between you-almost as much as you possibly could on the small porch.

He blanched, trying to step closer before you held out an arm, pushing his chest back. “It’s okay. S-she’s with the others-she won’t come out here-she won’t-”

“No.” The word was concrete but your eyes stayed trained on the ground as it was spoken, avoiding the puppy eyes you knew would be staring back at you if you were to look up.

And if you saw them you knew it would be over for you. You knew that. He knew that.

“Please, I need you so bad.” The words were agonizingly enticing but you’d been around him for long enough to build some level of immunity to his charms. 

“Please,” he took a step closer again, brushing away your arm as your eyes screwed shut. 

You couldn’t see him but you could feel his breath fanning across your face. “You can do anything you want to me. Push me around, punish me. Just fuck me.” He pressed himself against you, showing you just how hard he was for you.

“I’ve been so bad, so, so bad. Need you to just fuck me back into place.” 

Before your brain even comes to terms with his words, his hand was clasping around your wrist-the one with the cigarette in hand. Quickly bringing it up to his shoulder, pulling down his shirt to expose more skin. “Put it out on me.”

You’re sure your mouth is practically hanging open at the thought, lust pooling deep inside of you. “Do it-please!” He shakes your hand, desperation filling his eyes.

It would be easy. So easy to give into his whims. To let yourself fall into the trap of his desires...

"Miss you so much." His voice takes on a certain kind of desperation, lips trembling. "Need-need your touch so bad. Want you to bruise me, mark me, ruin me."

So, so fucking easy. To go along with it.

With a heavy groan you shove him away once more. He whimpers as you drop it onto the ground instead, snubbing it out under your foot. 

“Not right now.” The finality of the tone has him sulking and whining but you ignore him as you pull out your phone at the vibration of a notification.

You sigh at the contact name on the message. The real reason you wouldn’t give into his whims. 

Why you wouldn’t grab him by the throat right now, kiss him until his lips were raw and red, tease him until he came in his pants and make him walk straight back into there with his shame and your ownership stamped on him like a bright neon sign.

Because of her.

Avery: He’s with you rn, right?

You: Yeah

The dots pop up, signalling her typing before they disappear.

You: Why?

Avery: He just didn’t say he was going anywhere and I got worried

You: Worried?

Avery: Ofc! Why wouldn’t I be?

You: Avery.

Avery: Fine. 

Avery: I left with Hyunjin like 5 minutes ago, we’re heading over to his place for a bit

Avery: Can you just tell Lix I was idk, sick or smth-literally anything it doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t come looking for me lol

You: Okay.

Avery: Yeah, maybe invite him to stay over at urs or smth, I won’t be back at our place til tmrw and u guys are friends so it won’t be weird.

And there it was. Both the reason you rarely ever felt bad and simultaneously felt incredibly guilty about what you had with Felix.

Because while he was out with you, she was out with someone else too, so in a way you guess it kinda nullified it? 

Made you sleep better knowing that you were fucking the brains out of a taken man?

You weren’t very sure to what extent either of them knew about the other’s rendezvous. You were sure he knew that she was cheating on him but doubted he knew it was his friend that it was with at the moment. And if she knew what was going on between you and him well she didn’t say anything and that was a pretty dead giveaway that she had no idea.

Because she was a hypocrite, not above starting a confrontation and spinning it around to make you and him seem like villains and her to be the helpless victim of the story.

Even as she was out with one of Felix’s best friends doing god knew what, knowing how much it would hurt him. But you guess that wasn’t so different than what he was doing to her.

“Hey, you wanna come over to my place? We can watch a movie or something.”

He perked up immediately at that, nodding quickly. “Yeah!” He knew what that was code for. He glanced down at his phone. “Should I go tell Avery I’m leaving?...Nah it’ll be fine, I’ll just text her later.”

“Okay cool, let’s go.”

The fire escape off the balcony landed right into an abandoned alley, perfect so you wouldn’t have awkwardly say goodbye to all of their friends.

You broke into a brisk walk the second you were on the ground, Felix having to almost run to catch up with you after he got off the ladder. “Hey! Wait up!” He shouted.

“Then hurry up, slowpoke!” You retorted over your shoulder, not slowing the pace. 

Your own apartment was pretty close, only maybe a 10 minute walk but it was still cold as shit and you’d given Avery your jacket earlier. You hadn’t really registered the chilliness on the balcony before, have it be the smoke or Felix you didn’t know.

“Hey!” He panted as he caught up.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile at the way he linked your arms together, swinging them happily.

He looked happy.

A smile across his face-his eyes still slightly clouded and the bulge in his pants still ever-so present but seeming to be fine ignoring it for now, even if whenever he took a step too long or too short he’d have to suppress a moan.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket again. Probably Avery. 

You ignored it.

Probably another update about her and Hyunjin, a reminder to keep Felix with you. Another reminder of how fucked up this whole situation this was.

“Do you ever feel bad?” You asked suddenly, the words blurted out before you could really think them over.

He let out a surprised noise. “For who-Avery?”

You nodded and he made a small noise of consideration, thinking it over before replying. “Not really, no. Really why should I? She was the one that cheated first.”

It was true, he could remember it all very clearly. They’d only been together for a few months at that point-basically nothing really but very quickly had either of them gotten attached. 

He vividly remembered walking in on her with some other random guy when he came home from working on a group project after school. 

He remembers standing there, frozen in place. Not wanting to watch but being unable to look away. 

Stuck in his body. Feet glued to the floor. Eyes frozen on them. Forced to watch her moan out the guy’s name, for him to smile and leave a kiss on her lips, groaning out about how she was such a pretty little slut for him.

The next thing he knew she was gasping, pushing the dude away, yelling out Felix’s name in alarm. The guy was pulling out of her, eyes wide in shock.

And maybe he didn’t know she was with someone-maybe he was innocent in all this mess. 

But she wasn’t.

And then his feet finally moved and Felix was running out of the room, trying not to cry as he threw himself into the guest room, locking the door and sliding down it, covering his face with his hands in an effort to hold back tears.

He could recall all of the sobbing and pain and apologizing that first time. 

She’d wailed all night long like she was the one that had been the one to walk in on their girlfriend fucking another guy. 

She refused to leave the house even when he yelled for her to pack her shit and leave. 

She stayed, sitting on the other side of the door, banging and crying for him to let her in. For him to let her explain herself, like that would somehow make anything better. 

She promised to not do it again. For two hours she kept that up until finally he cracked and let her in. 

She cradled him in her arms and wiped away his tears, cried with him for a bit and promised and swore and crossed her damn heart, assuring him that she’d never ever do it again. Held him tighter when he gritted his teeth and told her again, to leave. But she refused. She grovelled and pleaded and ‘justified’ her actions for a second chance.

He’d ended up forgiving her of course but, surprise, surprise, only a few weeks later it happened again. The whole process repeated with the guest room and the begging and the promises. 

And it happened again.

And again.

And the time after that. 

Over and over until it got to the point where he was used to it-expected it. No longer did he lock himself in the guest bedroom, all that would happen with that was she’d get bruises all over her hands from banging on the door and complain about it the next day as if it were a routine and nothing more.

And he wouldn’t say he was exactly happy with this arrangement but slowly with each new guy he became practically desensitized to it. 

When he came home from classes and saw her giving a guy a sloppy blowjob on the couch that had been Felix’s before they’d moved in together he simply sighed and rolled his eyes, ignoring the bitter twang in his chest and telling the dude to get out.

When he’d gone to a party with her and realized she’d disappeared only to find her practically dry-humping some random dude in the kitchen he’d just told her he was going home and to not wake him up when she came in.

It hurt, yes but through all of that he stayed with her. Why? He didn’t really know, maybe it was something to do with the fact that she was his first serious relationship and he liked the security of the title. Maybe because he was scared about how she would react, what she would do.

But for whatever reason he always stayed loyal throughout it all.

That was until you came along.

You, sitting in front of him in lecture hall. You who got decently good grades so the teacher’s paired you up with him, asking you to tutor him some days too if you were to have the availability, You who had a step-sister, through your dad’s marriage to her mom who just happened to be his girlfriend.

You.

You, you, you.

Who made him not want to be loyal anymore. Who made him laugh and smile and want to leave his cheating girlfriend once and for all.

And suddenly it was no longer the security of the title that kept him around, her anger or her small scraps of love only given when he begged for it. 

It was you. Who reminded him how it would affect not only them but all of their friends, who reminded him that she was your step-sister and the issues and drama that would come along with breaking it off with her.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to.

He remembers the first time he came onto you, it was only about two months ago-56 days to be exact-but who was counting?

It was during a tutoring session, he’d been watching you. Observing the way you bit your lip when you concentrated, a slight furrow in your brow. Fixated on the way your tongue would dart out to quickly wet your lips before you spoke. 

Watched and watched until without really making the decision he was leaning in and kissing you and you were kissing him back and finally he understood how little Avery meant to him.

He could almost feel phantom hands on his body, remembering the way your’s had immediately gone to his hair, tugging at the silky strands until he moaned and then you realized what was going on.

You’d pushed him away all too soon, panicked and frazzled, yelling at him about why he’d ever do that. 

Did he know what this meant?

Had he really thought over what this might do?

Did he realize how Avery would feel? 

What this could do to you and to her and to-

And then he was kissing you again-desperate and needy, making you gasp out, grasping your hands by the wrists and placing them around his waist. 

And then your hands were back in his hair, all over his body, taking and giving and feeling and exploring. Then he was under you and any thought about how Avery would feel was the last thing on your mind.

The whole experience was different. Then anything he’d had and anything that you’d had, in a good way.

After that you didn’t want to stop seeing each other and she was starting to question why he was getting tutored so much. 

It started off as just sex and that wasn’t a morally good thing by any chance, but you could rationalize it. 

You told yourself that you could stop anytime you wanted, if you wanted to but you didn’t need to yet so there was no point. And it would be easy, because there were no feelings, not as bad of a betrayal. 

But it quickly turned into more than that. 

To laying in bed afterwards, him curling up in your arms, pressed up close against your chest, fiddling with his hair, and taking in the way he smelt. 

To enjoying each others company and nothing more during these moments-small bursts of time that started as one of you leaving right away, to staying for a few minutes, to staying for a few hours simply talking. About nothing. About everything. About your family and his friends, how your week was and how he wanted to be a professional dancer someday.

To suggesting good restaurants to him and to personally showing him to them. To days that one of you were in the mood and the other wasn’t, so you’d cool down and cuddle instead. To inviting him over for movie nights and making dinner together. To doing things without the idea of getting laid at the end of the night even in either of your heads.

And did he ever? Feel guilty about any of it?

“No.” Felix stated with a certainty in his tone. “If I could go back I’d do it all over again.” You unlocked the door and gestured for him to go in first. “But you never know...”

The keys were placed on the counter, “Never know what?” You questioned distractedly, shoes slipped off along with his. 

“I might feel differently if you keep teasing me,” He rested his head on your shoulder, whispering into your ear. “Maybe I shouldn’t have even come to you...Avery would’ve helped me back at the house you know-”

Before he could blink, his body was pushed back, stumbling until his knees hit the couch and he feel backwards. And then you were on top of him, knees of either side of his hips, lips inches away from his.

A dark look had crept into your eyes, flickering over the length of his body hungrily. He shivered almost violently, he couldn’t help it.

“Wanna repeat that for me, kitten?” Chills broke across his skin at patronizing tone you spoke in and he was once again reminded of how turned on he already was.

His mouth was dry and his body burned in anticipation but he wouldn’t reply-couldn’t.

A dangerous sneer replaced the smirk, malicious intent written all over it and fuck, it left him throbbing and holding back the whimpers climbing up his throat. “C’mon pretty little kitty, you said it so confidently before.” Your hand brushed over his thigh and he whined, a pathetic sound that rolled off his tongue like an angel’s call to your ears.

“Say it.” You demanded, tipping his chin up to look at you.

“Please,” He whispered.

A single brow of yours raised, unimpressed. “That’s not what I asked for.”

He shut his eyes, unable to look at you. “M-maybe if you won’t help me,” His voice wavered, turning to a mumble. “Ma-maybe...Avery w-will.”

Your smile was large but the action didn’t convey to your eyes. Mirthless and dark-in lust or anger he couldn’t tell but could only hope it was both.

That was the only way you’d fuck him the way he needed to be right now.

“Really?” You growled.

His breath hitched. He was very accustomed to this version of you. The version that came out when it was just the two of you. Here and now. When he was needy and you were willing. When he begged you to do anything you wanted to to him and you would grant him that wish.

It got you into this head space where you wanted to remind him who he belonged to-not Avery certainly. It made you want to break him down and build him back up again just to remind him that you could. To make him forget who she was and who he himself was and the only thing left falling from kiss-bitten lips would be your name and begs for more.

He knew Avery was an especially sensitive topic to bring into this moment. To taunt you with her name in the way he’d just done. In a way that undermined your hold and control over him in these moments.

After all, you were nothing if not possessive.

And he fucking loved it.

Because now you were going to show him. Show him how good you could make him feel. Show him how well you knew his body and make sure he knew that plenty could try but no one could make him feel the way you did.

The laugh that came next was cold as your lips travelled down the smooth expanse of his neck. Nipping over his jugular, sucking harshly at his pulse point. “Does she fuck you better than I do sweetpea?” He could do nothing but moan brokenly in reply, arms grasping helplessly around your shoulders.

“Can she make you feel as good as I do?” Your hands dragged over his body in the seconds, touching him so slowly, so tantalizing.

Was this heaven or hell?

“Does she make you scream like I can?” It took a perfectly timed stroke to the words and he felt like he was go crazy with want, losing grip on reality, liquid heat filling his body with need.

He couldn’t even begin to try to figure it out in this moment.

Felix shook his head, frantically trying to find his voice but to no avail. You let out a chuckle. “When was the last time she touched you?”

And this time it seemed like you wanted a legitimate answer, pushing your body up and off of his, hovering over him. Those few inches of space devastated him, leaving his body cold and tingling for your touch again.

Your eyes trained on him, expressive and pushing, prompting him to answer the question. 

“L-last week.” He finally croaked out.

At long last-which was only really a few seconds but felt like an eternity, you were back on top of him, bodies snug against each other. “Only last week?” You pouted. “Lixie, thought I was special, th-”

“-Y-you are!-”

“-Ah ta ta ta,” you clicked your tongue at him like he was a misbehaving dog. “No interrupting me sweet thing.” You scolded, pulling up his shorts to reveal unblemished skin of his thigh, kneading the flesh in your hand before continuing. “Thought I was the only one who got to see you like this.” 

Grip turning harsh, you pried his legs apart, setting between them. “But it seems like you’re just an easy slut, opening your legs for anyone.”

He whined, pulling you closer to him if that was even possible, hiding his pink stained face in your hair, trying his very best to control his body. To keep his hips from jumping up and thrusting up against you like his body was aching to.

“No-she doesn’t make me feel the way you do. She doesn’t-” the words cut off into a moan of pure unfiltered unholiness.

“Doesn’t what? Doesn’t stroke you the way I do?” You taunt, slipping his shorts down to find...huh, no underwear, couldn’t say you were surprised. “Commando princess? And you say you aren’t a whore.”

Dragging the heel of your hand up and down him, slow and sure. “Only a whore for you~” he whispers through pants, breathing becoming erratic and irregular as you pick up the pace, increasing in speed.

You can’t help but laugh at the quip. “Whatever you say princess.”

He mewls, watching your head dip out of his view as your tongue continues your mission along his throat. 

Tasting and teasing but careful to leave the skin unmarked-a certain amount of level-headedness able to still keep control over the horny thoughts beginning to run rampant.

Hand slipping behind his head you softly twine your fingers into the long hair you’d begged him not to cut and suddenly tugged, quick and harsh, giving you more space to work with.

You’re still level-headed.

But Lix has other ideas-rational thoughts replaced by wet dreams, hips chasing your hand for more and fingers threading through your hair. “Mark me-fuck! Bite me-please-bite me, bruise me!”

Something inside you thrums with heat and you gently scrape your teeth down his neck. “Dunno baby, can you really take that?” 

He nods quickly, unable to keep his body from squirming anymore. “And what about Avery? You want her to see you all pretty-covered in bruises from another woman?”

“Yes! Please do it, m’ yours-wanna be yours!”

You freeze but he doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in his haze of pleasure, fucking up into your hand.

He’d never said that before.

You’ve called him yours-your slut, your pretty little thing, your whatever felt right in the moment but never had he said it.

...And the level-headedness was gone.

Your teeth sunk into his skin, leaving him keening, arching, tightening his hold in your hair. “M-more, please, need more!”

Happily, you could oblige to him and his request, carrying on with more teeth, more sucking, more fervor and a primal desperate need-like you needed to prove something-to Avery? To him? To yourself? Who knew.

Certainly not the boy under you who had lost any semblance of composure-not that he’d had very much to begin with.

A strangled sound akin to a sob left him and his legs wrapped around your waist, his eyes slipped shut-wanton cries and hiccupy gasps filling the room. “Please.” Was all he could say, your hand moving faster, matching rhythm with his thrusts.

“Trust me princess. When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your own name.” The hiss in his ear had his mouth falling open, no sound coming out.

Finally you pulled away just a bit, admiring your work. 

A piece of art that consisted of reddened patches of skin that would soon fade to purple. His cock, pulsing and throbbing his your hand, working up and down his length smoothly due to the copious amounts of arousal leaking from the tip. And lastly, the best part was his cute little fucked-out face.

Stroking his cheekbone lightly with your fingers, a slow smile crept across your face. His mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut, brows furrowed tightly. “And you sure as hell won’t remember Avery’s”

You were addicted to him, yes. 

Just as much as that little deathstick you couldn’t seem to stop smoking. 

But truly, in the end, could something that felt so good be so bad?

[drstanfordpines]

barfing very incomplete stanford thoughts here bc i need to get them out of my brain or i’ll actually explode

hypervigilance headcanon go brrrrr (this one prob isn’t new to y’all; it’s practically canon with how he acts & seems to be popular in the ford fan community from what i’ve seen, i just want to amp it up some more. turn up that there angst dial babey!). more to this: jumpy at many things including but not limited to fast/unexpected movements, loud/unexpected sounds, etcetera.

gets really annoyed when people pronounce et cetera “exetra”.

studied latin in college. like a fucking nerd

paranoia but what if we added More. i said TURN THE DIAL UPPPPPPPPPPP

journal 3 says he is excited to hear newest eurythmics chart topper so i’m assuming he’s a fan. i want mabel to show him new music. i’m definitely going to project my music taste onto mabel. i also want him to hear WAP for the first time. i think it would be funny.

he’s either aroace or bi all around or some combination of those thangs, ie he has the same amount of attraction to all genders which is either a “normal” amount or possibly less or none (yes i am projecting. it’s called being valid and sexy). in other words: he doesn’t really understand romantic or sexual attraction and tbh he doesn’t care to. he has more nerdy important things to do. that being said he has def dated fiddleford and had a thing with bill (i feel like “dated” definitely isn’t the right term for the relationship of ford and bill. idk man i’m having thoughts at a million miles per hour rn i’ll explain later or whatever)

legitimately believed for a large portion of his life that anyone who gets close to him is either a) evil and wants to hurt him/the people he cares about OR b) inevitably going to get hurt/killed (or worse) because of what he called “the stanford effect”; basically the thought that he is Cursed™️ so he must isolate himself to save others from the effects of the curse or whatever the fuck

despite all the shit he’s been through, he does not identify as superstitious. he is first and foremost a scientist babey.

during his time in the portal, he clung onto his identity as a scientist desperately. i hc that he had to do some really fucked up shit to survive out there, and that he kept a series of field journals (or just one digital field journal would be easier probably) documenting his experiences as a way to keep himself sane (or as sane as he could be given the situation).

[fandomwritingbit]

Caught out pt.2

William afton x fem reader x henry emily

A/n: Hiii, this is a part two of this fic I did a while ago. It's really long ngl over 7,000 words. To the person that requested a part two to this that focused more on the relationship between Henry and Will, I took some inspiration from that so thank you very muchly. I hope this reads well, I'll be editing it over the next few days because writer's block is shagging me hard rn.

Warnings: smut, oral, unprotected sex, inappropriate relationships, sexual tension between henry and william, y/n is absolute filth.

The day after Henry had debased himself, started off pretty shit. The restaurant was fully booked all day and it felt like there were over a million kids tearing through the building and creating havoc, along with many other reasons for the two co-owners to stay back after hours. They were so understaffed, two waiters and an entertainer had called in sick, forcing Henry and Will to step up a bit. Well, Henry stepped up, running plates, hosting, the works; William, though he was present, just cracked the whip on the employees that were there. Both had contemplated getting you out of the security office to help out, but the plethora of legal challenges they’d seen in the previous few weeks dissuaded them.

“Who’s fault is this?” William caught Henry’s arm, his expression as fumingly stoic as it had been so far all day. It was this side of William that initially drove Henry into merging with him, the no-nonsense, no-bullshit, pragmatic approach that he was too nice to use. When they were newly joined, grabbing his arm like this would have made Henry shit scared, just the sheer height of the man alone would’ve done it; now though, Henry just looked from his hand to Will’s face, scoffing. 

“Tiff was on bookings, I’m gonna have a word with her.” He pulled his arm free, “You do know, William, that we can’t have high numbers and easy service.”  

William sniggered, slightly surprised by Henry’s attitude, “Functional service would be nice, though.” 

~

All shit hit the fan about midday. 

And it hit the fan big time. A party of thirty and one of seventeen at the same time had all hands on deck, waiters sweating making sure patrons had everything they needed, bar staff making so many drinks that there wasn’t a gap left on the bar, and Henry and William were trying to cope with everything in between. Namely, trying to keep kids out of staff-only areas or from running full pelt into the servers carrying food and drinks, and keeping feuding chefs calm in the kitchen. The latter Henry’s domain, for obvious reasons. So when the shifty looking fellow slipped inside the building, it went unnoticed. 

“Excuse me?” a woman’s shrill voice called to William, obligating him to approach the table. He didn’t smile at her because the look on her face said this wasn’t a ‘compliments to the chef��� kind of thing. 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“There’s plastic in my son’s pizza.” She pointed a thickly painted nail at the slice, showing the cling film sticking out underneath. Fuck’s sake.

He nodded, “Right. I’ll get you a new one.” As he spoke, he picked up the plate and the one with the rest of the pizza on it, cursing this whole fucking operation. 

“Got anything that doesn’t come out of a freezer?” she snapped, looking at him with such disapproval he felt a kid again. 

He just laughed at her. God, it was a £5 meal, she’s lucky they even heated it up for that. Neglecting to answer her, he gave a half-arsed apology and went towards the back kitchen to sort her out. 

Whilst this took place, a man with black gloves waited for the boy on the till to leave before wrenching the till open, shoving his hand inside to grab a fist-full of today’s earnings. The staff were too distracted to cop on, and alarm was only raised when the thief knocked into a server. 

“Hey what are you-” shoving her out the way, the figure moved towards the exit. The young lady got the attention of other staff who called out to the man but didn’t physically intervene, forcing the waitress to run to the kitchen and drag William out by his arm, babbling about what was happening.

He gave chase, following the thief out of the swinging doorway while the staff and patrons watched on in awe. It was at this point Henry burst out the kitchen as well, his face a mask of exasperation as he asked around to try and figure out what was going on. It seemed like no one really knew anything. No one knew where the day security guard was or how much money the thief had grabbed before bolting. 

“Fucking useless.” He mumbled under his breath, immediately kicking himself for how much he sounded like William.

It must have only been a couple of minutes before William walked back in, though it felt much longer. Henry looked to catch Will’s eye, quickly realising that he’d failed in the pursuit both the thief and the money by the slouching of his posture and the cut above his brow. He dabbed it with the side of his hand, smearing blood on his forehead. It was a sight and a half.

“You didn’t get him?” he kept his voice cautious, not wanting to send William over the edge.

He laughed, “Course I did. Fucker hit me and jumped in a car. I will say, he were well organised.” William winced again as he touched his cut, a streak of stark red trailing down the side of his face. Henry watched the movement thoughtfully, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen William like this, though usually he wasn’t sober. There was just something about it that made him feel deeply troubled and guilty. William Afton was powerful and scary. Handsome as the devil, everyone said it and the blood on his face tickled a part of Henry that he kept close to his chest and had done for years. 

Henry sighed, “You alright?” it’s asked nonchalantly but there is a tint of kindness on it. 

“Yeah. It’s going to keep bleeding though, you know what cuts to the face are like.” He again wiped the gash, the blood darkly pretty on his fingers. 

“No, no I don’t.” He shakes his head, he had too much sense to go about getting into fights. William just laughed, Henry's judgement always amused him. But his laughter died when Henry bluntly asked, “Don’t suppose you got a licence plate or anything?”

William’s face went stony, “Shit.” he muttered, feeling a little stupid but in fairness he was busy trying to catch the guy. The two were silent for a moment, the quiet awkward between them. Thankfully, it was broken when William again spoke, the idea hitting him out of nowhere, “The cameras. It wasn’t too far from the back doors, we might be able to get the plate on them.” 

Henry nodded, “Yeah I’ll go and check with y/n.” An odd weighty feeling fills the air at the mention of your name, a bizarre and new-found knowledge on the former’s part and gross pride on the other’s. He turns but stops still, “You should uh try and see how much they took. You know, look at the tickets and-”

“Yeah, I know how to do it, mate. Jesus.” he sniggers, not moving an inch out of principle, since when the fuck did Henry give him orders.

Exhaling through his nose, the sensible owner decides not to pursue what he’d asked him to do, hoping he’d comply without an argument, though what was more likely is that Henry would have to do that himself. He heads out the main restaurant and down the staff corridor, a growing feeling of anticipation at seeing you. He’s sure neither you or William know what he did, but the fear of discovery made him tense. 

Outside the security office door, he takes a breath before knocking, hating himself for being like this, if anyone should be ashamed it’s William, but as always he’s the one compensating. 

You open the door and are greeted by the pensive expression of Mr Emily, you knew exactly what he was going to ask and had been reviewing the footage yourself already. 

“Uh hey, y/n, can you show me the footage of the incident?” You step aside and let him into the cramped space, it’s a horrible office really, no windows and the monitor casting a grainy artificial light against the viewer. He would rather have you serving on the front but you insisted this was better because you, quote, ‘don’t want to deal with all the shit out there.’ End quote. 

“Yeah, sure. I had a look…” you speak whilst getting up the recording of the robbery, “but the fella has a hood up, you can’t see anything uh identifiable.” He glances at your face and is surprised to see you smiling, as you wind it back and play the recording for him. 

Your grin is pretty contagious and makes it hard to focus on the footage, “You find this funny?” His brow is narrowed, it’s not asked nastily more curiously. 

“The thieving? No, sir.” You try to disguise your snigger as you skip it forward a few seconds, to show William pulling the waitress off his arm and booking it out the door. “It’s uh that I find funny.”

He snickers himself, god this was a shit show. “Yes, I can see why.” 

“When I clip it for the police, I’ll leave that bit out… might be hard to explain what he was trying to do there.” You watch your boss nod his approval, an understanding between you to try and keep William out of the copper’s eye-lines.  

Henry then recalls what he said about the outside footage. “What about outside? William said that we might be able to see something on the cameras round the back.” 

“Ah yeah, good idea.” You go off the restaurant recordings, and on to the outside ones. They record a little differently in blocks of footage that display in a huge camera roll, you go to the section he means but scroll down too far, clicking on the wrong block. The two of you are met with yesterday’s footage of the bins and it takes you a fair few seconds to realise. 

“Oh this is yesterday’s.” Henry says the moment he clocks on and you blink trying to read the time and date stamp. 

“Oh sorry.” you rush to go back off that recording, hitting the wrong button and instead going to the rear interior cameras in the same block. The intake of breath from Mr Emily, makes you jump. 

“Ah- no. That’s ah-” The time it takes him to speak is enough for you to gauge the reason for his reaction. Though the footage isn't brilliant you can tell it’s him standing just outside William’s office, his back to the wall. It’s too grainy to see precisely but the movement is clear and pitifully familiar to you. You look at Henry for a moment, lips pursed in confusion, then it occurs to you to look at the timestamp: yesterday around 1:30pm, you were on your ‘lunch break’ then with Will- oh sweet lord. 

“Oh my God.” you say out loud, and Henry swears that this must be what a heart attack feels like. The dawning realisation on your face left him no room to lie his way out of it, sure it was muddy but shit, you can still tell he’s wanking. A disturbed and defeated noise escaped from his throat, “Mr Emily, is that-”

“God, just turn it off.” He speaks hoarsely, a little blunter than he meant, but when he pulls the courage to look at you he sees blatant amusement on your face. 

“Like Hell I will. You saw me and Will- Mr Afton in his office yesterday?” you enquire, smirk not budging an inch. 

“Yes.'' His voice is small as his eyes flicker between you and the footage, which is now reaching its literal and metaphorical climax. Your eyes go wide as you take it in, how he bites on his hand his back lifting off the wall, fucking his fist and letting himself spill on the floor.

“And you uh-”

“Yes.” Now he looks at you, his face red before he tries to grab the mouse, futile really, you’d already seen everything. The whole vile, carnal activity. Something so beneath him, it had been on his mind all day. He internally interrogated himself as to how he didn't think about the cameras, the stupid horny bastard he was. Couldn’t wait to get back to the privacy of his office- no he didn’t want to because the sounds of his co-worker and employee screwing was what was getting him off. 

You move it out of his grasp, your eyes sharp scrutiny on his shame. “God, Mr Emily.” you giggle, a sudden giddiness surging through your veins. If you had known that he was there he could have come in and gotten a better view, the mere thought of that made arousal twitch between your legs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you finally speak again. 

Confusion again twists his features, “What?” He looks handsome like that, you muse. 

“Do you… fancy me, Mr Emily?” A flash of something foreign crosses his face, he just looks at you until you prompt him again, “Well?”

He scoffs, “I- well, you’re attractive, yes. What do you want me to say?” His tone is tinged with disbelief, he can’t believe you’re still in here with him, talking to him, not running into the restaurant to tell William, disgust etched on your face. 

You beam, he really did, it was written on his face. Circumstantial or not, the idea of having two fit older men interested in you, burned your blood. “Then you could’ve said something… I feel guilty if you felt, you know, left out.” 

He’s so speechless he might as well be a statue, so you fill the silence again, “It’s good to know.” He’s just mesmerised by your reaction, you’re almost flirting with him, unperturbed by that god-awful footage, no, engaged by it.

“I’m sorry.” He manages finally, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from his hands. 

“Don’t be.” You shake your head, still smiling. “I’ll sort the recordings. Check for a number plate and clip it for a report.” You slowly place a hand on his arm, stroking up and down, captivated by the effect you were having on him, you felt powerful almost. “So you don’t have to worry. You can go.” 

And he does. He leaves the room without saying a word, shell-shocked into silence. Your reaction wasn’t what he would have thought, but it still scared him because he knew he was going to be the next topic of conversation between you and William, and if he were to confront him, that heart attack probably would materialise. God, if you only knew the half of who he fancied.

~

The next time you see William, is again during your contracted hours, this time leaving the door purposely open despite his protests, a secret hope that Henry might again come down the corridor, no pun intended. You’d rode William to oblivion in his office chair, taking exactly what you wanted from the man in the form of his huge cock stretching your little hole open. 

Now you remain sat on his lap, watching his hand toy with the mess both of you had made between your legs, his fingers pushing his release back inside, thinking to himself how pretty you looked fuck open like that, full of him just how you wanted. 

“I want to talk to you.” You say through a grin, pulling his hand away and towards your lips, where you suck the mixture of the two of you from his fingers, your tongue swirling reminding him of something else you’re more than good at. A low noise from his chest at the sight makes you smile again. 

He smirks, “This is the bit where you ask me for something, huh?” 

“Nothing you won’t like.” You bite the tips of his fingers, holding them for just a moment between your teeth, making him groan. “Do you know about Mr Emily?” The second you ask it he pulls his hand away, cupping under your jaw. 

“What about him?” 

“He saw us the other day. You know on your desk.” You don’t need to jog his memory, he recalls that in explicit detail. 

“Yeah, got quite the eyeful I imagine. Looked mortified.”

“Oh my god, He didn’t tell you.” You laugh, “Not that I blame him.” adjusting yourself before sliding from his knee. You pull up your panties and then the trousers you were wearing, scanning the room for wherever the hell your shoes have gone. When you look back to him, his brow is furrowed. 

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart, what’s this about?” You can tell that despite the casualness of his tone he really wants to know and your cocky expression was grating on him already. Clearly you talking about Henry was of great interest to him. 

So you smile, taking a moment to enjoy the look on his face before giving him the story, in as much detail as you can. You describe the footage you’d found, how even through the pixels you could tell he touched himself desperately, his pace rushed either due to fear of discovery or simple greediness. You tell him how his coworker was so thoughtless as to let his release fall on the floor, and dirty enough to leave it there. 

William looked at you with a grin, he could taste the second-hand embarrassment on his partner's behalf, thinking to himself that Henry must feel like shit right now. When you finish with some clear glee on your face he chuckles, “Dirty bastard.” He paused, an expression flashing across his face that you’d never seen before. “...Did he delete the footage?”

You laugh, “Why? You want to see it?” You half expected his face to fall at that accusation but a grin just cut wide on his face. “I deleted it.” you shoot him down.

“Well then, that’s a wasted opportunity. You never know when that kind of thing can be of use.” He spoke whilst standing up, pulling the lever under his chair up to return it to the height he needed it, not the one you did to ride him. He moved to begin sorting his desk out but his hands stuttered, not sure where to even begin with how behind on work he was. 

“Cold, Afton.” You grin. “You didn’t actually let me finish.” That caught his attention again and he turned to face you, leaning back on his desk before gesturing at you to continue. 

“I said I deleted it. Only fair, I wouldn’t want Mr Emily to feel… slighted.” You sigh, watching him look at you expectantly. You make him wait a fair while before you dig in your back pocket and clack a USB down on the desk next to him. The blooming smile on his face motivates you to ask him for a ‘favour’. 

Clearly there is something of a tension between the two co-owners. And that can be toxic to a business’ success. Though that’s probably not the real reason for you wanting to relieve it.

William moves to pick it up, but you quickly snatch it from the table, holding it between two fingers you drag it up under his chin. “You can have it… for whatever pervers reasons you really want it.”

“But?”

The saccharine look on your face as you speak is like hypnotism at its finest. “I like the idea of two men wanting me. Like I really like it.” you draw out your words for maximum effect.

He tilts his head back in laughter, “Of course you do.”

You’re not entirely happy with the implications of that. “Hey, at least I’m brave enough to ask for what I want.” 

“And you want to fuck him?” The words are quick and harsh off his tongue. “And you’re what, asking for my permission?” 

A short laugh escapes you. “No. But I do want to fuck him. But I don’t want to make you jealous, so maybe there’s a middle ground. If you get me?” He evidently does, judging by that delicious pinch between his brows. For a moment you think you’ve pushed things a little too far, maybe hit a nerve even, so you just blink at him prettily, hoping that that will nudge him in the direction you want. 

Finally, he sniggers, “... You’re asking me… If I will tag-team you. With a bloke I've known for nearly twenty years?” He laughs incredulously before running his tongue over his teeth. The emphasis of the last part makes you resign yourself to the no, you think you’re about to hear.

“Uh yeah..?” Your tone is as cautious as you can make it, whilst your eyes rake over his face for some read of his opinion on the matter. 

But he just leaves you hanging, sniggering away. Clearly he’s made a decision and you won’t get to know until he thinks you need to. 

~

Later that evening after grabbing his old and dusty but trusty jacket off the hook in his office, Henry checks the pocket for his car keys and wallet. Sighing as the events of the day caught up to him, he finally clocks off just after 11pm, and he’s more than ready to fall into bed. 

He pokes his head around the door of William’s office just to give him the polite goodnight that was expected but is greeted by pitch black emptiness. He tries not to be pissed off that the bastard has gone home already and left him working away without a word exchanged. But it's largely unsuccessful, and he finds himself huffing and puffing as he goes to the front of the building to check everythings been locked up properly.

The restaurant always hits different after hours, an unacquainted person would probably find it creepy what with the children’s play area all shrouded in darkness and the curtains drawn on the stage blowing just a little from the ventilation. Hell, he was beginning to find it unnerving himself. 

The interior doors were locked and bolted and the shutters were down, making this whole thing a little pointless, but if he hadn’t checked he’d be halfway home itching with uncertainty. Especially with the robbery that just happened. 

“You know you could have just checked from outside?” A voice says in the dark of the restaurant, making Henry turn like a gunshot towards it. It takes him a minute in his surprise to clap his eyes on William sitting in a corner booth with his feet on the table. In the complete fucking dark. 

“Jesus, William.” He snaps, moving to the wall to flick the lights back on. When he does, the lurker winces in the bright artificial light. “What are you doing?” 

In response, he slides a bottle of whiskey across the table, one that he’d drunk nearly half of already. “Drinking.” His words are a little slurred so he clears his throat. “Drink with me, Henry.” 

Henry scoffs, “Drinking alone in the dark. New low, even for you.” 

Cackling, William puts his hand over his heart, “Ouch. Well, I'm not alone now, am I? Sit down.” He gestures in line with his words, nodding towards the other side of the booth. 

“It’s late, I should-” He begins his protest but is immediately cut off by an overexaggerated reaction from his counterpart. 

“Oh for the love of god, man. Fucking sit down.” He rolls his eyes, still not moving his feet from the table, even when Henry obeys and sits down opposite him. In Henry’s experience it’s best not to argue with William when he’s half-cut, the man could be persuasive, bordering on naggy.  

It’s only when he’s already sat down that he realises the drunk has only got one glass, he pours it for Henry and then takes a swig directly from the bottle. 

“Thought you were saving this for a special occasion?” He asks, twisting the bottle to read the label and humming approval to himself that this was good shit. Truth be told he hasn’t drunk with William for what must be a couple of years, so this proposal mixed with his posh whiskey stank of an ulterior motive. 

“I’m sick of looking at it.” He answered, slowly leaning his head backwards to rest it against the wall and close his eyes. Henry watched the movement over the brim of his glass. He spent many years working with this man, but it only dawned on him once in a while how handsome he was. Not a hallmark prince kind of handsome, but in a rugged, sleazy, scary sort of way, no wonder you’d trotted so happily to bed with him- or rather to his office on your lunch break. He almost laughed as that thought occurred to him. God, he was jealous, and he hated himself for it. 

Suddenly, William shook his head and sat up straighter. “Fuck, I’m nearly mortal.” He snickered, before taking another swig from the bottle, then pouring more in Henry's glass. "Away, mate. You've got catching up to do." 

Although he tried, Henry would have needed another bottle to make it to William’s level of pissed. Still though, a little over an hour later his head was swimming and even just sitting in this booth was testing his balance. 

He shifts in his place, instantly regretting it “Shit. God… I need to stop. Gonna fucki-” He felt like he was going to hit the deck, yet William seemed to have gone the other way, leaning with his head in his hands giggling at nothing. 

“Language, Emily!” He chastised, “Never known you to have such a dirty mouth.” Looking over at the other man, William could tell he’d drunk well too much. He never could handle it that well, it showed immediately in his eyes, that kind of glassy look that was undeniably due to intoxication; many times the two of them had gotten denied service from pubs for exactly that reason. 

His words made Henry look up properly, a bit taken aback by his coworker. Obviously, he was joking, hardly a sentence from William could go by without some flavour of profanity, but that ‘dirty mouth’ comment was like ice down his spine. He said something like that to you when he eavesdropped on the two of you, in such a darkly aroused way that it stuck with him, practically haunting him. “Just shut up, man.” He mumbled, unhappy with the half a smile crossing his face.

William scoffed, leaning forward across the table to snatch the glasses off Henry’s face. He tried to grab them back, but as always, Will was too quick. 

“What the hell are you-”

He laughed, putting the glasses on himself and blinking quickly in pantomime, “God, you’re really fucking blind, huh?” 

Unable to stop himself from smiling, Henry leans to again try and take them back. He's met with William tilting his head to allow him to pluck them from his face, chuckling like a schoolboy. 

Henry feels his face heat up more than he would have liked. “Yeah, that’s why I wear them. Fuck’s sake.” 

“I forgot you’re so moody on the drink, lighten up, dickhead.”

For a moment Henry just laughed in disbelief, thinking to himself that he can’t be serious. “At least it’s only when I’m drinking, you’re a stormy bastard all the time.” Will’s eyebrows raised in response, he didn’t have a lot to say to that, largely because it’s true. His mood could sway the whole staff’s, his bad day was everyone’s problem, most of all Henry’s. 

William hummed for a beat, taking the time to think if he really wanted to say what he was about to. Your words from earlier echoing in his mind. “You’re right, you know.” He smirked then, a proper conniving expression that almost bordered on sinister. “I’ll have to make it up to you then… Call in on me tomorrow. I have something for you.” 

~

And now is the waiting game. Your shift went relatively quickly and painlessly. Bookings have been strictly limited after yesterday's fiasco that led to the thief digging around the cash register, so it was almost quiet. And now you sit on your boss’s very familiar knee, practically vibrating with excitement. You lean your head back to rest on his shoulder, slowly grinding your hips back and forth on his lap, knowing how much it wound him up. 

“You really can’t wait, can you?” His voice is low and teasing like always, but you don’t miss the way his fingers tap against the top of the desk: he’s nervous. 

You smile, “What? I’m excited.” You roll your hip particularly hard, pleasure jolts through your system when you feel that William is pretty excited himself. “I can’t believe he agreed to this. I’ve always wanted to have two blokes fight over me.” You punctuate your point by pressing your lips against the underside of his jaw. 

He snickers from just above you, “Can I tell you something?” A large hand comes up from your ribs to grab a handful of your breast which you arch your back into. “He didn’t exactly agree.” The second the sentence leaves him, you sit upright, turning to face him. 

Your eyes narrow. “What are you saying?” 

“I told him I have something for him, not that-” Your scoffing cuts him off .

“You- he doesn’t know that I’m here to… You’re such a fucking arsehole!” You could almost hit him, if Henry has no idea what this is all about, it’s not going to happen is it? Disappointment courses through you. “I can’t believe you-” You go to stand and grab your shit and leave, but he catches your hips and pulls you back down on top of him. 

He holds you firm, just grinning at the angry line between your brows. “Calm down, sweetheart. Alright? Just bat your eyes at him like you’re so good at and you’ll get what you want.”

Just as you open your mouth to give Will your grievances, the two of you hear polite knocking from the office door which then slowly cracks open showing a tentative looking Henry. 

The second he claps eyes on not only William but you too, the man feels anxiety prickle all over him as a million thoughts cross his mind. Seriously, what the fuck is this? Some kind of gang up on Henry, make him feel like shit for what he did the other day, situation? Fuck, the shame around him was not only tangible but so thick it was practically visible. 

But not wanting to draw attention to his hallway activity, he elects for a “Oh hey, y/n.” Before he focuses his gaze on William, “What is this then?” 

He laughs, “I said I had something for you…” William then takes his hands off your hips, freeing you to move as you’d like. But before you do, he whispers something unintelligible to Henry in your ear. Something that makes the hard line of your mouth soften considerably. 

“Well, love. You still want to play?” The words caress your skin and it dawns on you that you do. Fuck, you really want to play. And you’ve already gone to all this effort… it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity. You nod at William and slide off his lap, then walking over to Henry who still stood awkwardly a pace away from the door. 

You walk right up to him, standing a little too close to him, so close he feels an automatic blush spread across his cheeks. “I uh…” you begin but falter immediately. The confusion on his face was crystal clear. “I can’t get that image of you out of my head. You know, the footage?... I think I enjoyed that more than a normal person should. I thought maybe we could have some fun- if that’s what you want, obviously.” You keep your voice down instinctively, maybe hoping internally it’d be out of William’s earshot. 

He killed that thought with, “Careful, y/n. His glasses will steam up.” The cockiness coating the words made the other man scowl, which in turn just made Will laugh. 

“Shut it, Will.” You interject, your eyes not moving from Henry as you read him for reaction. 

“...This really isn’t a good idea.” He speaks slowly, voice cracking on the first word, making him have to clear his throat to continue. This was baffling, and he couldn’t tell if it was some sick joke between you and William, something designed to cripple him emotionally. But looking closer, from your small smile to his set jaw made him think that maybe, maybe this was a real proposal. 

“Respectfully,” you take another step forward, so close to Henry that you could smell his aftershave. “I disagree.” Your hand rises up to rest on his chest, a finger prying under the lapel of his jacket.  

He chuckles in complete disbelief, flicking his eyes over to William, who still sat cock-sure as hell in his office chair.  “Don’t look at me, mate. This is all her.” He waves a calculatedly dismissive hand as he speaks, trying to disguise the tension he was wrapped in.   

“Yeah but…” The words fail Henry when you continue touching him, stroking his chest in just the right way to get the physical reaction from him that you wanted. “If I do something, are you going to rough me up?” He attempts some level of nonchalance, but it doesn’t carry at all. 

William sniggers then, “I think she’ll do a good enough job of that on her own.” You giggle, curling your fingers under the lapel and pulling Henry so close that your lips are only an inch away from his making him groan slightly. 

“So what do you say, Henry?” You breathe, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure that this is something that he wanted. He doesn’t respond verbally, only closing the gap between the two of you with a surprisingly firm kiss. You reciprocate, excitement bubbling in your core, this was insane, not only was it two handsome men here with you at once, but both your bosses, this was certainly going to bollocks up your professional relationships. 

You take both Henry’s hands and place them on your hips, giving him all the cues to deepen this kiss, which he does by sliding his tongue into your mouth and twirling it alongside yours. You let out a light moan, if he kept hitting you with all these surprises this was going to be even more fun than you initially thought. When you press yourself flush against him, it strikes him out of nowhere that this is real, you, pretty little you, were kissing him, pressing against him hungrily, eager for him. It excites him enough for his hands to rake over you, one cupping your tit and the other pinching your arse in such a way that makes you briefly rise to your toes. 

You mouth the word ‘fuck’ against his lips before he puls away slightly and buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing along your skin until he found your sweet spot. Your hand tangles itself in his hair, encouraging him to keep pulling these cute noises from you. One particularly pretty gasp for you makes him look up, instantly catching William’s eye, his stomach twisting when he sees him chuckling and shaking his head. You grab under his chin, forcing him to put his attention back on you. 

You look over your shoulder, “Have you got a confused jealousy boner, Will?” 

He laughs at your meanness, “If I have to watch, at least put on a show.” You grin before turning back to Henry, intending to follow his advice. You lightly push Henry back until his back catches a side table, there you trail your hand down his body before taking the tent in his trousers in your hand, making him groan again, the sound vibrating through his chest. 

You begin to stroke him slowly over the fabric, grinning up at him, “Fuck, that security footage was so hot, Henry.” You bite your bottom lip and he swears he’s going to melt. “Will you show me in person?”

You feel his cock twitch and it spurs on the wetness now seeping between your legs and collecting in your panties. His hands replace yours, moving to slowly undo his belt, the clinking sound all too revealing, then his fly underneath. You dive in then, helping him pull his trousers down. Flicking your gaze between his eyes and his cock, you trail your finger over the bulge, stopping just at the waistband of his boxers and making him wait in anticipation before you hook your fingers under the fabric and pull them down, letting his hardness spring between your bodies. 

The look on your face is so damn dirty, your pupils so huge that he just blinks at you, gasping when you grab hold of him, feeling his length. He’s thick and you just know he’s going to feel so fucking right inside you. Spitting in your hand, you start a slow pace of stroking him, all teasing, really making him feel every little thing you give him, his twisting expression motivating you to keep it nice and easy. 

“This enough of a show for you?” You say to William, and Henry turns to look at him like he forgot he’s there. 

“Please, sweetheart. I know you can do better than that.” He makes a point of looking the two of you up and down before glancing at Henry and flashing the most wolfish smirk going, making his stomach twist with something absolutely filthy. 

William watches as you grin, his hand taking hold of himself over his trousers. You look such a pretty thing sliding down to your knees, still pumping Henry, though now it was becoming a more substantial pace. His breath audibly hitched when he looked down at the sight of you stroking his cock like that, looking so needy for it. You open your mouth, placing the head of his cock on your tongue for a moment before wrapping your lips around him. You suck him just as tantalisingly, hollowing your cheeks to take as much of him as you could, working your tongue perfectly on the underside of his length. His head was completely empty, soft grunts escaping him when you took him deep in your throat. How the fuck was this even happening? How the fuck was William okay with it? 

From across the room, you both hear the shifting of him standing up, your eyes move to what you could see of him in your peripheral but you don’t stop, if anything you start bobbing your head with more gusto, your hands taking his base and softly stroking him to your rhythm. Henry just stares at William, his hands white knuckling against the table in an effort not to cry out- god, you’re too fucking good at this. No wonder he’s so fond of you. 

William stands behind you, his frame casting an imposing shadow over you on the floor, you can’t help but smile- well, smile as much as you can. He looks between the two of you, watching you give Henry probably the best blowjob of his life, before looking back to Henry’s reddened face, he could tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek, which makes him snigger. He grabs hold of your hair, taking a firm grip of it and following your movement. 

Henry moans and the shame that accompanies it is almost instant. What the hell was he doing? His scrutiny was fucking awful and maybe would’ve made him want to stop, if you weren’t taking him so well. 

“She’s such a good girl, huh?” His voice makes your skin pucker with goosebumps, fuck he sounds so good when he’s horny. 

Henry would have agreed, but all words are absent when Will uses your hair to control your movement. A sudden emerging urge to hear what kind of sounds Henry can make taking over him. You moan, hand reaching in reflex around his wrist, though you let him do as he wishes. He pushed your head further down on Henry’s cock, making tears spring at the corners of your eyes. And then moves you back and forth, forcing you to keep up with it. Something about it is so dirty you can’t help but shift your position so your pussy is rubbing against your heel, the small sensation absolute bliss.   

William catches on quickly and pulls your head back so Henry’s cock pops lewdly from your mouth. You speak immediately, your voice breathy, “Feeling left out?” 

Henry watches in something close to awe as William tilts your head all the way back so you’re looking up at him, his finger rubbing over your lips, the smirk on his face mean. “I agreed to share, not witness.” He leans down and pulls your shirt up, somehow managing to manoeuvre it over your head easily, despite the carnage. He waits, unsure of what to do, his cock glistening with your spit when he takes it in his hand, looking to see your bra being unhooked and the sight of your perfect tits. 

William hooks under your arms and lifts you up, in quite the show of strength, onto the side table. You giggle, “You’re not very good at sharing then.” as you look between the two men, your legs spreading automatically to let William pull your trousers off, your wet panties exposed, he runs his fingers over the damp fabric eliciting a pleased sound from both you and Henry who now touched himself at the view in front of him. 

“You really liked sucking his dick, didn’t you?” His tone is all mocking, though you pick up on a hint of something else. You just nod and lift your hips up against his hand, he obeys your silent ask, quickly sliding your knickers down to your knees and placing his thumb on that needy clit of yours. He gives you just what you need, drawing circles over your bundle of nerves, glancing at Henry whilst he does so, catching his gaze as it flicks from somewhere else, embarrassment written on his face.   

He shakes his head at him before placing his hands on your thighs to keep you open for him as he bends down and replaces the stimulation with his tongue. You grab him instantly, and your want for him makes Henry stroke his cock again, he almost wants to laugh at this attempt to show off, but there’s no denying the look on your face as you roll your hips against him, incoherent moans fleeing your lips. Clearly, William is good at that because when he adjusts his position to press his fingers inside you, you cry out, the sound insanely pornographic. He presses his digits inside you just right, playing you like a fucking violin and you’re close, just the sight of Henry watching could have got you there, but the angle of his fingers pressed against the part of you that made coming undone inevitable. 

William grunts into your pussy, when your hand in his hair lets him know you’re going to cum. You’re a bad one for that, grabbing onto him in your fretful wave, when you’re scared he’s not going to let you get there, his back is covered in scratches from you for precisely that reason. He grabs at himself, palming his erection to the rhythm of your noises and not entirely succeeding. Henry notices immediately, unable to decide what he wants to watch more, you gagging for it, begging to cum, or Will getting off on it.

“Fuck. Will, please.” You choke out, the fucking of his fingers shoving you closer and closer to your end, so quick its near unbearable. He doesn’t stop, curling his fingers more to get you there, still sucking mercilessly on your clit. It hits you hard, your back arching as you cum, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers, fluttering in such a way that it makes it impossible not to bust inside you.

William pulls away from you when your waves begin to die out, to enjoy the sight of you, grinning when he sees Henry looking ragged. 

You see it too, the furrowed brow, sweat lingering on his forehead showing that he’d enjoyed that nearly as much as you had, edging himself helplessly to your pleasure. You can see the precum leaking from his tip and even though you’ve just cum you want more. You want to make him cry. 

“Henry…” The second you say his name he quivers, he remembers your voice sounding like that from before, but the glazed over, fucked out look on your face is new. “Can you fuck me?” You’re sitting up on the table as you speak, your cunt flushed and shining. And you certainly don’t need to ask twice. 

You stand and push him down so he’s sitting in William’s chair, not missing the pissed off look on Will’s face that screams ‘what about me?’.

You straddle Henry facing out towards William, blinking pretty at him whilst rubbing your slick pussy against the other’s cock. Hoping he gets the practicality of this position. Reading your mind, he steps forward, taking your chin in his grip as his foot reaches under the chair to push the lever up, causing you and Henry to drop down roughly to a much more useful height. Henry moans, the jolting movement making him drag against your cunt in the most desperate way. 

It’s not long before you’re lost in the obliteration of two fellas at once. Henry’s thick cock deep inside you, stretching you around him. His hands cup under your behind to give him the space he needs to fuck up into you. You’re whining from it, loving the feeling of his pace, or you would be, if not for your lips being wrapped around William’s cock stifling the sound.

If anyone was outside the door in the former's previous position, they might fall victim to the same impulse he did. The lewd sounds of one using your mouth like his fucktoy and the other fucking out your dripping pussy, no doubt very obvious. As is the mixture of grunts and moans. You can't help but be so thankful for coming across that footage.

[icallhimjoey]

I LOVED IT SO DAMN MUCH! <3 thank you for feeding us! Now I’m hungry for more- honestly both of them are hopeless idiots

hungry for more, you say? well... (rewritten 19 nov 2023) Wordcount: 2.9K

Inevitable Sparks

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was undeniable now and it felt a little unfair to him. Almost a little, dared he say it, abandoning.

Pushed to the side, no longer important enough.

It had been sort of gradual, but the realisation hit Wesley like a tonne of bricks when he found he hadn't seen Joe in a month and you had.

And several times, too!

He'd been so annoyed by the two of you being too scared to talk to each other like normal people, like adults, but this seemed infinitely more annoying. Wesley couldn't believe it, but he kind of wished you'd stayed in that stage of texting him rather than each other a little longer.

The second he'd left the group chat he'd made for you, both you and Joe filled his phone in individual text-threads with an assortment of accusations and swearwords.

"WTF WTF WESLEY WTF"

"🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻"

"the biggest wanker i know"

"IDIOT"

"are you fckn serious rn?????"

"and then you just LEAVE?"

"wtf do i say now wes"

"you're such a dickhead 😒 you know that right"

"WTF DO I SAY?!"

Wesley followed up with the unthinkable, and texted each of you screenshots of the other's messages to him. You weren't aware he'd sent yours to Joe, and Joe wasn't aware he'd sent his to you, but at least then you both understood that you had the exact same reaction, and it should've calmed your nerves.

It absolutely hadn't, though, because what were you going to say now?

You'd stared at the empty chat screen of the group chat that now was just you and Joe for entirely too long until you saw that Joe was typing.

But then he'd stopped.

And then he'd started again, and Joe typed for nearly a minute, but no message appeared.

Eventually, you decided you were going to send the first message after reading Wesley's message a million times in which he called you both idiots.

"wesley's the idiot"

You decided that you could bond over your awful friend placing you in this awful spot. And it was perfect, because now Joe could just reply and the seal would be broken.

"hard agree"

And then you'd both taken a screenshot of that, and both individually sent it to Wesley without the other knowing, and it had made Wesley laugh out loud.

Sure.

If the two of you wanted him to be the idiot, he'd gladly fill those shoes for you.

"at least the photo's nice"

You sent it and immediately regretted pointing it out, far too nervous that Joe would take the comment the way you meant it.

"its blurry" Joe replied. "he's an idiot AND a bad photographer"

"we'll make him take a new one, preferably one where we know its being taken so he can get my good side"

"which side is your better one?"Joe didn't immediately go into a shpiel of you both your sides being your good sides like you'd expected. Wasn't that the predictable thing for a guy to say after you made a comment like that? Joe hadn't gone that route, though. It was refreshing and you loved it.

"idk probably the back"

"you're right, you do have a nice backside" Joe flirted.

Made you grin.

"yea? hard agree? 🙃" you flirted back.

"the hardest"

The first time you'd seen Wesley after that, you'd shown Wesley the conversations you and Joe had been having and he looked at it for a second before telling you that Joe'd already let him read all of it.

Oh.

Well, all right then.

You concluded then that perhaps Wesley had been right, and the both of you really were idiots. But it was okay. Was fine.

Wesley liked that you kept the group chat with the title and picture he'd set you up with, but said he didn't need to be kept up to date on absolutely everything the two of you spoke about.

What that didn't mean is that he'd be kept out of the loop entirely... except, that's exactly what you and Joe had done.

So you hadn't let Wesley know about the first time you'd met up for a coffee together and had Joe guess your coffee order which he'd gotten right on his fourth try. You'd pretended to be impressed, and Joe had smiled bashfully as he told you shut up, don't humour me.

You would humour Joe for the rest of his life if it was going to get him to smile like that, no problem.

Next, you hadn't let Wesley know that Joe had invited you over to his flat for lunch in between zoom meetings he had going on a random Saturday. You'd had so much fun that you forgot about the time and Joe had missed an entire interview he was meant to do.

And then after that, Joe hadn't let Wesley know that you sometimes called each other whilst getting ready for bed, just to talk about your day for a bit, and Joe would make sure to at least make you laugh a few times so that, even when you'd had a bad day, you at least got to go to sleep in somewhat of a better mood.

And then, Joe hadn't let Wesley know that he was off on a trip for work for the next couple of days, which Wesley didn't appreciate.

"Tomorrow? In the morning?" Wesley asked Joe over the phone.

"Yea, but I should have time tonight! I'm leaving... I don't even know the time I'm leaving, wait, let me check," Joe tried to open his schedule on his phone and accidentally hung up on Wesley as he did.

Wesley gave Joe a little time to ring back, but when he didn't, Wesley called him back and found the line was busy; Joe was on another call.

"Hey!" Joe could hear your smile through the phone.

"Hey," Joe bashfully replied, unable to hide his own smile from making its way into your ears.

"I've got a huge problem," you started, feigning alarm, but nothing about the way you said it sounded like you were being serious. "And I desperately need your help."

It was the cleverest thing you'd been able to come up with to coax Joe over into your flat again. He'd mentioned he'd be out of the country for a few days soon, and you had decided you wanted to see him once more before he left.

Just the two of you.

Without Wesley also there.

"You do?" Joe chuckled. "What is it?"

"I've just prepared far too much food, there's no way I can eat all of it by myself," you couldn't make it through the sentence without laughing. You were being such an idiot. Joe thought it was adorable.

"Did you? What did you make?"

"Shrimp. Scampi. I've got so much of it, it's honestly– it's a bit mad." your voice dripped with overdone concern.

"Oh no, shrimp overload?" Joe gasped dramatically, matching your tone.

"Shrimp overload." you confirmed, absolutely beaming.

You looked over at the bag of still frozen shrimp on your kitchen counter, and you knew if Joe was going to say he would come over to help you in this faux disaster, you'd have to start cooking them immediately to at least make this playful lie somewhat believable.

"Sounds like–" Joe audibly let a choked laugh escape through his teeth. "Sounds like a serious issue..."

"It really is, I could really use a hand in, let's say, about an hour?"

"Of course," Joe's voice was suddenly impossibly soft and sweet. "I'll be right over."

Made your neck flush.

"My hero," you said, and you both softly giggled before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

That was when Joe saw he'd received a text from Wesley whilst he'd been talking to you.

"So. Tonight. Dinner?"

"Sorry mate I can't, something came up, I'll see you next week!"

When you buzzed Joe into your building, you left your front door ajar so Joe could make his way in himself whilst you gave your cooking its finishing touches.

"Hello?" Joe called into your flat when he entered, and before you could reply, you heard him take a deep breath after which he whispered "Delicious," on his exhale.

Your whole flat smelled of various herbs, mostly garlic though, and it had Joe's stomach instantly rumbling.

"Nearly done," you turned to see Joe walk in and grinned.

"Hi."

Joe looked like he'd just been milling around his flat all day; fluffy hair that could use a lick of product, comfortable loose-fitting clothing - none of it pulled together properly, but he looked nice anyway.

You panned down to see he'd taken his shoes off by the door and your heart fluttered a little because that meant that one, Joe cared enough not to walk filth into your house and two, he looked extra soft and comfortable now.

Joe was immediately hovering behind you to peer over your shoulder to see onto the cooktop.

"That is a lot of shrimp," Joe commented, "Good thing I came."

You could help but laugh, because looking at your pots and pans now, sure, it could feed a small family of four if they weren't that hungry, but this could also easily feed just the two of you without leaving any leftovers.

"Wait, stand still," Joe suddenly said, and you felt two hands on your lower back tug tenderly at your apron as you froze on the spot.

All of your attention was with Joe's touch now which made your heart somersault. Gave you goosebumps.

Joe untied the knot that was threateningly loose and used delicate touch to tie it again.

Tightly, this time.

You could feel how Joe was close to you, too close for what he was doing, his breath lightly fanning the back of your neck.

When Joe was done, he let his fingers linger and make their way over to the side of your hips, and you could hear Joe's breath hitch as you thought of all the things you wanted him to do to you.

There'd only been accidental touching of knees and hands with the two of you up until now, and all had resulted in blushes and shy smiles and you were done with them.

You wanted more.

Kind of wanted more right now.

"Joe?" you broke the silence after you'd both been standing there like that a little too long, Joe's hands softly touching your hips, and you imagined he'd been staring down at your bum.

Suddenly, Joe loudly cleared his throat.

"Yea?"

He let his hands softly tap your hips before moving them away from you.

"Um, anything I can do to help?"

Your attention shifted back to the food in front of you, and you quickly stirred whatever needed stirring.

"Yes, actually. Could you help set the table?" you pointed at a kitchen cabinet and let Joe get to work as you mentally pulled yourself together.

Steady breathing, you silently guided yourself.

Slow, steady, deep breaths.

Come on.

You could do this.

Except you couldn't. Because when Joe had set the table and you'd placed the pan of shrimp in the middle of it, you were about to take off your apron but learnt quickly that you couldn't.

"Oh, double knot, sorry," Joe said, already sat at the table, when he saw you struggle as you pulled on the fabric and he reached out an arm to help.

It made you grin because you knew this dork had done that on purpose. Didn't doubt it for a second.

You turned, and expected Joe to simply untie the apron for you, but instead, he pulled you closer with an unexpected yank, placing you in between his widely spread legs.

He untied you, far too slowly for it to be normal, tugging harshly and pulling you more into him as he did. When you felt the apron fall to your front, Joe pushed you forward a little by the small of your back and you heard him get up from his seat.

Instinctively, you turned around to face him and Joe's hands found the loop of the apron around your neck, helping you take it off completely.

When he'd raised it over your head, what you should've done was move away from each other, sit down, scoop some shrimp onto both your plates and have dinner together.

Instead, you both stood there, fixed in place, and you knew it was just an apron, but technically, Joe had just undressed you and it made you stop breathing for a second as your eyes found each other.

Joe let the apron drop from his hands onto the floor next to you as he reached an arm around your back, pulling you in closer to him. It startled you, and you leant black slightly, placing both your hands over his upper arms.

Joe got close, leaning forward, and his other hand found the back of your neck to guide your movements.

Yes.

This is what you wanted.

Fuck the food.

You could just eat each other.

You didn't even see what Joe was looking at, because you couldn't stop staring at his mouth.

Those lips.

The sheer look of them made you release a stuttered breath, and it was enough to make Joe dip his head down to meet your lips.

But then.

Just as you were about to let your lips touch in the most feverish of manners, your buzzer went.

Fuck.

It filled the room with a shrill harsh ringing noise, pulling you from your hazy bubble which instantly created space between the two of you. You both released breaths you'd been holding in, and you couldn't help but chuckle slightly as Joe loosened the grip he had on you to let you answer whoever was downstairs trying to get into the building.

"Yes?"

"Delivery." a crackly voice spoke through the old speaker and you were quick to buzz them up.

When you turned back to Joe, he had sat back down and grinned at you, letting a huff of air escape his nostrils in a sad laugh. You slumped your shoulders which sent the same message as you smiled back at him and knitted your eyebrows together.

The moment had been ruined and had now unfortunately floated away from you entirely.

"Get some food onto your plate, I'll be back in a second," you nodded at the pan of steaming shrimp before stepping into your hallway to get the door.

With Joe out of sight, you were able to gather your thoughts a second, and suddenly, you frowned.

Delivery?

You hadn't ordered anything, had you?

A rapid, melodic knock at your door startled you.

Oh no... it couldn't be?

A quick peek through your peephole confirmed your suspicions.

Fuck.

Wesley.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath before you carefully opened your door just enough to peek your head through.

"Hi," you spoke in a loud whisper, your eyes huge with shock.

"Wine delivery," Wesley said loudly, and used a flat hand to push your door open further before stepping around you, into your hallway.

"I've just brought one bottle though, do you have more? Because I'm definitely going to need more," he seemed annoyed and completely ignored what your facial expression was trying to tell him.

"Erm, Wes?" you kept the volume of your voice as low as you could manage it, moving yourself to stand in the middle of your hallway to block Wesley.

But Wesley moved to take off his shoes, ready to spend the evening on your sofa with good wine, good company, bad TV and enough time and space to freely complain about his best friend Joe.

"Did you cook? It smells good in–" words faltered him when he saw them. You followed Wesley's gaze and your eyes landed on Joe's beige wallabees, neatly placed next to the radiator.

Fuck.

Wesley didn't say anything, but looked at you a second with a blank face and then stepped around you to look into your living room.

He was met with the sight of Joe scooping shrimp onto your plate, ladle hovering as Joe'd frozen on the spot the second he'd heard Wesley's voice, feeling caught doing something he wasn't meant to be doing.

"Hey," Joe spoke awkwardly, stretching the word and letting it fade out in volume until the blanket of silence covered the room completely.

For a second Wesley just blinked at Joe, and then back at you until he realised the situation at hand.

"Something came up?" Wesley challenged Joe slightly, not overtly angry, more so startled by what he'd walked in on, but you definitely detected a little annoyance.

"Wes," you started.

"Something did," Joe plainly said, interrupting you as he gestured your way.

Wesley followed Joe's eyes and looked at you just a smidge too long, scanning your face to read your apologetic features before handing you the bottle of wine he'd been holding.

"Enjoy," he said, giving you both a tight polite smile that didn't reach his eyes before turning on his heel and walking out.

-----

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[autistook]

Okay so, I’m on anon because we’ve had 0 interaction previously and while I love your blog and do really want to get to know you better, I feel like you just need support rn.

Im going to share a little bit about my journey to see if it sounds a bit familiar to you (even if it doesn’t, that’s alright too!!). A bit about me: I’m a lesbian who that she was bi for ~8 years when I was young(er) and still figuring it out, because I knew I liked women but never seriously considered whether I actually liked men and just took it as a default that I did. I also sort of mentally tried to train myself into liking men via celebrity crushes etc. (something I know few of my gay guy friends also did in fear of not being bi), but obviously it didn’t work. I never actually slept with a man, but that’s more because whenever an opportunity would present itself I’d come up with a million excuses not to and less because I didn’t seriously consider it and I did feel like I wanted to. A lot of my thinking came down to me not being repulsed by the idea of having sex with a dick and instead actively fantasising about it. I thought that meant that I was *cured* as it were, and therefore couldn’t be a lesbian. When I got over that mental hurdle, I sort of realised that yeah, sex with a dick would be hot, but sex with a dick that’s a strap CONNECTED TO A WOMAN? 1000x hotter. And yeah, like you, I never really felt the same level of romantic attachment to the men in my life.

One thing I do want to say is that obviously for LGBT+ people it’s very common to view us getting to know ourselves better as a crisis, and it definitely feels like that. When I thought I was bi I didn’t really come out or anything and tried to keep my romantic life very seperate (partly because I did deep down think the label was off for me, but also yknow, that deep deep shame of internalised homophobia). BUT, it didn’t feel like a crisis in the same way realising I was a lesbian did. I think comphet really does mess with you mentally and it was pretty hard for me to come to terms with the fact that not only did I like women, but I didn’t like men. Once I did, I felt happier than I ever had in my life and I’m out and proud!! I think it might be worth thinking about why we articulate these things as a crisis to begin with and question what are the barriers in your own head preventing you from fairly considering the possibility you’re a lesbian.

On liking non-binary people, I sometimes feel guilty for finding nb people attractive when I’m a self-professed lesbian and they do not identify as a woman. But it’s not because I see them as women? It doesn’t stop me from calling myself a lesbian, however. Sexuality is complex and nuanced, but being attracted to an nb person now and then doesn’t take away from the fact that I’m a lesbian.

I hope this helps!!! Sometimes there isn’t a simple answer to these things and there doesn’t need to be. Labels are helpful, but not when they box you in or prevent you from finding yourself. I think the first step is to really think long and hard (lol) about why this is a crisis for you and what will change if you are lesbian.

Either way, remember to love yourself first and foremost and know there will always be sapphic sisters out here cheering you on 🌈❤️🏳️‍🌈

this helped a lot and made me shed a few tears. ♡

definitely a big part of me has always gone for men in relationships because it's "the norm" and makes stuff "easier".

I've always preferred women. that I do know.

I remember when me and some other girls from my class had a movie night and we talked about sex, and I said something like "I always get the ick when I think about penis and men" because I thought it was how everyone thought about it. everyone looked at me weird and turns out, I was the only one in our group who thought that lol

[14muffinz]

@terrapin-might gift for your first prompt!

no need for a date, I have a dumbass

ao3

@tmnt-write-fight

i'll clean this post up later, I'm in the middle of class rn and I am def out of time

Raph is not a fan of suits.

He isn’t a fan of a lot of types of clothes, because he swears that they’re all manufactured to be tearable and itchy, but there’s a special type of hell that comes from being forced around to lug a jacket along with him everywhere when he’s in a cramped gymnasium with music slamming into his brain.

In all honesty, he doesn’t even know why he came.

At some point, Raph had lost the rest of his family in the crowd. Under normal circumstances, they’d usually be easier to pick out, but everything’s too crowded, everything’s too loud, and with the weird lighting he can’t pick out the specific shades of green he’s searching for.

Really, he just wants to leave already.

Raph manoeuvres his way over to the snack table, and shoves some food in his pocket because he knows it's a bad idea, but this entire night feels like a bad idea and goddammit, he’s hungry.

He finds his way out of the gym, and luckily the halls are a little less crowded. He can’t get very far through them, because the majority of the school is blocked off for security reasons, but getting away from all of the loud sounds and bright lights make him feel a lot better.

It’s by chance, when looking for an actually empty place to chill, that he gets found by Casey.

“Not your scene?” He asks without preamble, and there’s something annoying in his tone that leaves the impression that he already knew this wasn’t the best situation for Raph.

Raph shrugs. “Yeah, but it feels just like yours.”

“Ehn,” Casey looks off to the side, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Everyone else who I’d chill with came with dates, and I just sorta came for the experience. It’s depressing as hell to be alone at one of these things, I can sorta see why not bringing a date is a taboo.”

“I thought that was just one of those human things I’m never meant to get,” Raph admits.

“Nobody gets social things, that’s the fuckin’ point,” Casey dissmisses. He starts walking the other direction, and Raph follows. Raph reaches into his pocket and slowly pulls out a snack, trying to eat silently. He fails, and Casey twists around to make insistent grabby hands. “Cough it up, Red, I haven’t gone into that shithole in like, an hour, I’m hungry as hell.”

Raph rolls his eyes. “Y’know the snack table is right by the door, right? Nobody would’ve known that you came alone.”

“Yeah, but it’s the principle of the thing,” Casey explains. “Who the fuck only comes to prom for the snacks?”

“Me,” Raph says. He realises that Casey’s definitely leading him to the exit, and can’t really find it in himself to care, even though he knows he’ll be receiving a million worried text messages the moment the tracker on his phone leaves school grounds.

Casey rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but your family is, like, smart. You don’t got a reason to care that you’re weird, and the fuck are people supposed to say? If they blame it on being mutants, that makes them into a piece of shit, even though if you weren’t born as a turtle, you’d probably have a real different life.”

They shove open the doors and walk out into the night air. It’s pleasant, warm but windy, and it makes Raph’s skin itch to go up. Since getting actual legal papers, he hasn’t gotten a chance to parkour, and he’s missing it.

“So, Red, what d’you want to do now?”

Raph shrugs. “It feels sorta dumb to go home, at this point, but partying doesn’t sound too appealing.”

“Maybe we could find an arcade or something,” Casey suggests. “I know where some afterparties are gonna be hosted later, and those’ll probably be pretty chill if we show up early, even if that’s weird as hell, but not gonna lie, I sort of just want to goof off for a bit?”

“Same.”

“Or maybe we could break into the rink,” Casey says thoughtfully. He rubs thoughtfully at his chin, as though he has a goatee to stroke, but in reality Raph is pretty sure the guy doesn’t even shave, not that Raph’s the one who can really make that point. “They never mind, and I still gotta teach you how to skate.”

“That’s going to be a shitshow,” Raph says, but with good humour. He knows himself and he knows that he’s going to trip and fall the moment he gets on the ice, then Casey will laugh at him, and that’s why he’s been avoiding it as much as possible.

Casey claps him on the shell then starts walking with more purpose, and Raph can only assume that he’s headed in the direction of the rink. Raph doesn’t know how to get to it from the school, but he’s been there enough that he could easily recognise it if he saw it. “Aw, c’mon, have some more faith in yourself. You’ll do great.”

“If you knock out one of my teeth, I’m going to stab you,” Raph threatens half-heartedly.

“And I’m sure I’ll extend you the same courtesy when you finally start teaching me ninja shit.”

“Never gonna happen.”

“Oh, just you wait, Raph. Just you fuckin’ wait.”

Raph snorts. “Stop trying to be ominous, Case, you’re shit at it.”

“I’m in hockey, not drama.”

“You’re built for both, though.”

Casey punches him.

⠀

⠀

Is not as much ‘breaking into’ the rink as it is Casey coming up to the back door with a key and then just striding in through the unlocked door. Which is good, because Raph knows that Casey would be a menace if he got to watch Raph’s ninja skills in action again.

Casey grabs two sets of skates off of the shelf behind the desk and brings them over to the benches, then silently starts putting them on. Raph allows himself a moment to be grossed out by the skates, because he doubts that they’re cleaned at all between uses by different people, then he reminds himself that he lives in a literal sewer, sucks it up, and starts lacing up his own skates.

The first challenge is trying to walk over to the rink. Raph’s got good balance, but that doesn’t make him automatically adjust to being held up only by two metal blades. Embarrassingly, Casey has to help him over to the rink, but at least he’s a good sport about it.

“Okay, so,” Casey starts as he steps onto the rink. Raph is leaning on the door and hoping that he doesn’t fall over. Casey spins around to face Raph and starts moving slowly backwards while holding eye contact. “It’s a lot easier than it looks, I swear. And if you want to grab one of the supports, I promise I won’t tell you how much you look like a grandma.”

He just poked the fucking bear.

Raph decides that he’s going to prove that no, he does not need to look like a granny, and steps onto the ice. His first angry step immediately sets him off balance, and then he tumbles onto the ice. Casey starts to cackle.

“I’m going to ruin this suit, aren’t I,” Raph sighs, already resigned.

“I think you should have called that a lost cause already,” Casey teases. He has a point, but like hell is Raph ever going to tell Casey Jones that he’s right about something. “C’mon, I’ll get you doing laps in no time.”

‘No time’ does not come to pass.

Raph hovers one hand by the wall as he slowly skates around the rink, and whenever he can get a proper support from the wall he’ll chuck some pocket crumbs at Casey, who is not as good of a teacher as he seems to think he is.

Eventually, though, he trusts Raph enough on the ice to head into the locker room, and returns a few minutes later returns with two hockey sticks and the familiar temptation violence in his eyes. Raph pretends that he’d made a full circle around the rink while he’d been alone, and Casey laughs at him like an asshole.

It’s a bit easier to balance with the stick. Casey clearly knows that Raph’s putting some of his weight onto it, but luckily he doesn’t comment.

“So hockey is just lacrosse but with more safety gear, right?

Casey starts pouting, which may or may not have been Raph’s intention. “C’mon, Red, after all the games I’ve made you sit through, you seriously don’t know the rules? Do you even know the rules of lacrosse?”

He huffs, then lifts up his stick. “Nope.” Then he shoots, overbalances, and falls onto his shell.

Coming here was absolutely a mistake.

Maybe the ads about prom were right, Raph’s going to treasure this day forever.

“Oh yeah, Red, you’d definitely be my first pick in a scrimish,” Casey taunts. “You’d be a real boss in a real game.”

If asked by Splinter or Leo, he would claim that he absolutely does not try to stab Casey with his skate. If he were asked by one of his other brothers, though, he’d complain that he missed the mark.

“How about you grab a bō, I grab my sai, and we see what fuckin’ happens, punk.”

“I can kick your ass with a stick,” Casey declares.

Raph gets a great idea.

He starts to stand back up, grabs the hockey stick, and sweeps Casey’s feet. It’s a lot easier when his opponent is balanced only on a metal blade.

“So can I,” Raph says proudly. He focuses all his energy on not wobbling so that this looks as badass as he wants it to.

“Point taken,” Casey allows. Him getting back up to his feet is unfortunately more fluid than Raph, and it probably helps that he’s not shivering in the faint cold. “A truce to kicking ass?” He requests, extending a hand.

Even while he takes Casey’s hand, Raph asks, “What does that even mean?”

“Fuck if I know, man, I’m failing English.”

⠀

⠀

They go at it for another two hours, until Raph is shivering too hard to keep going. Casey doesn’t make any jokes about it being because Raph’s a turtle, but Raph’s not entirely sure how he’d take one of those yet, so it’s fair. The amount of jokes Casey makes at his expense would be far past pushing it for anyone else.

When they grab their phones, April has updated them on Leo’s whereabouts via a picture of him flopped over on her bedroom floor (which Raph is definitely going to taunt him about tomorrow holy shit what was he thinking) and Donnie and Mikey confess that they both got dragged into the afterparty and will be back to the lair later in the morning.

Raph wraps an arm over Casey’s shoulder and they pose for a selfie, and they’re definitely on the same wavelength because both of their smiles are a touch devious, and they start laughing when they see the picture before they send it.

“Do you think that there’s any ice cream places open at 11pm?” Casey asks.

Concerned, Raph demands, “Wait, we just spent the last two hours ice skating, and now you want more ice? At midnight!?”

Trying and failing to play it off, Casey raises his chin and declares, “You don’t no my life.”

“Yes, I do,” Raph sighs, then yanks Casey forward by his arm. “C’mon, let’s walk through a drive through and piss off the nightshift worker.”

“I like the way you think, Red.”

“Is that supposed to be news?”

They walk through the drive through, because they’re little shits, vigilantes, delinquents, and definitely not pussies. Though, the expression the woman is wearing when they make it to the window makes Raph feel like they’re not the first teenagers to have had this idea, though considering that the afterparties are now in session, they might be the first ones so far that haven’t been drunk.

Their school is huge, so that’s just Raph’s assumption. He was raised on shitty movies, though, so maybe he’s a little off base with his guesses, even still.

On that thought, as Raph and Casey continue down the dark streets of New York, munching on burgers while precariously balancing their boxes of fries, he admits, “Y’know, we used to think that highschool would be like the Disney movies.”

Casey chokes on his burger and his laugh rumbles through his disgusting mouth full of food. “Dude, no fucking way.”

“Yes way,” Raph argues, grinning. “We saw this outdoor movie night of Highschool musical and were like, well, if the humans are watching it, then it must be pretty accurate.”

Casey’s cackle probably echoes for blocks, and since Raph is Raph and not Leo, he doesn’t bother to silence him, and even goes as far as to grin when he sees a few windows get lit from the inside.

“Thank god we wound up being normal before it was too late,” Raph tacks on, and Casey’s laugh picks up for a few more seconds.

Eventually, Casey manages, “Dude, you’re joking about the being normal thing right?”

Raph elbows him and does not feel bad when a few of Casey’s fries fall out of the box. “No shit, sherlock. I’m a fuckin’ weirdo and I’m proud about it.”

Casey wraps an arm around Raph and whoops.

Raph can’t imagine a life where he’s still trapped underground, going stir crazy and feeling closer and closer every day to snapping.

(Well, he can, but it’s depressing as hell so he tries not to.)

He can imagine his life now, though, in crystal clear quality. He’ll keep showing up to Casey’s hockey games and be a real ass about it, and eventually they’ll both go off to college and Raph will be intentionally be more dramatic about missing his best friend than any of his brothers, and then he’ll get bullied into a group hug like he always pretends to be.

Later, he and his friends and family will have an even better prom night down in the lair, while listening to rap music that’s more than just mid at best, and then eventually they’ll settle down to watch a romcom movie that Dad insists is good, and they’ll all get to throw popcorn at the projector screen.

Walking down the street, arm in arm with his asshole of a best friend, still feels like just the start.

[biquinntile]

TLDR: My biggest frustration being a late-diagnosed autistic is getting my brain to re-frame any of my behaviors. I’m having trouble figuring out how to help myself.

I was abused growing up, including some medical abuse, but my mom knew I had ADHD and lied to me and convinced me I didn’t. She never got a diagnosis but would ask me questions like “What are you, autistic?” I didn’t really understand what either of these terms meant back in 2012 when I was 13/14. So of course I said no, not even realizing until later that this was a rhetorical question (I am sighing so hard rn).

Fast forward to now, me age 26, being recently diagnosed as a person with ADHD and Autism. I spent my entire life up until now masking but even that feels like a weird word to use because it was never intentional. If I had needs not being met, I would find a way to get them met without talking to anyone or I would ignore them/push them away so that I “didnt have” that need anymore. In social situations, I made a lot of mistakes and found myself being very confused…so I would avoid being social altogether, or I would drill myself relentlessly before and after any social situation…and I mean any social situation. I remember people always criticizing me for “taking the long way” or not taking the most efficient route, but for me the “most efficient” route has never given me the results I wanted. It felt like I was a robot who had to constantly tinker with my own parts, with the goal being that one day I would be able to exist with other people naturally the way they do with each other. Not a robot, a person.

It’s very difficult to wrap my head around this not being a plausible goal anymore. I spent so long doing what was more difficult to mask symptoms I didn’t know I was masking. I spent my entire life operating under the belief that everybody was trying as hard as me to deal with sensory and socialization and all that jazz, it’s just that I was too weak to do it as well as they did. And it didn’t matter because I was doomed to fail.

I’m really working hard to not have such negative beliefs about being neurodivergent but it’s difficult bc in my brain I always hoped that one day I would just suddenly flip a switch and things would be easier. I would understand people and they would understand me. I wouldn’t spend weeks (if not months) obsessing over one singular topic. When I look back on moments where the autism was probably showing, I have all these memories of my parents calling me aggressive/angsty/spoiled/stupid/lazy/sensitive/etc. My stepdad would always say “You can’t be that stupid” and in my head, I would say “Well I guess I fucking am.”

All this to say, I have a lot of trouble now even recognizing when I’m doing a form of “masking” because it is so ingrained in me, and had I not done it, I would have faced worse abuse than I already had been facing. It took me until I was 24 to realize I was wearing a size too small in shoes because I believed a level of discomfort was just always a part of life, for EVERYONE not just me. I recently realized that I am not capable of crying in front of other people, even people I care about and trust, because when I used to cry people would find my reasoning trivial or tell me that I was too sensitive and they would (and I wish I was kidding) laugh or make fun of me. That is a silly thing to make fun of someone for, I know now, but I’m not sure how to change the behavior. I find day after day that there are a million things I’ve been overcompensating for or putting up with that I thought was normal or I thought I needed to do to keep up with everyone else (no wonder I feel so tired all the fucking time damn).

All this to say, I’m not even exactly sure what autistic symptoms I have or how to tackle them or even really how masking works entirely. I feel like I don’t know anything about myself. I don’t know how to help myself. Where do I even start? People keep throwing this “high-functioning” term at me, which I guess is fair, but I also feel like my bones ache at all times and I have constant rapid-fire anxious thoughts filling up my brain and I constantly feel like everyone on the earth is touching me and crowding me, even when I’m alone in my room. So I guess if I can keep pushing myself through those feelings, I’ll be fine and functioning fine but I don’t really think I can do that anymore.

Any advice or reading material would be greatly appreciated. Sorry if I didn’t explain things well. I’m trying my best out here

[jaggededges123]

Wait wait wait can you do more Z

whats good? Whats up? whats on your mind? do you like to combine your current interests? like maybe start mapping character traits to other series characters or think about crossovers?

OKAY IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT NOW AND I KNOW WHAT I WANNA TALK ABOUT—

i am gonna be running two events later this year, niecest weekend (august 9-11) and eighthcest weekend (it’s looking like september 20-22) and they’re gonna be GREAT! we’re voting on prompts for niecest weekend right now (dm me for a link if you’d like to vote btw i gave them out in servers but i know not everyone’s in them) and they’re looking really fun tbh 👀👀👀 and we’re still in the suggestion phase for the eighthcest weekend prompts (that link is public and i’ll probably try to reblog it again a day or two before i close the form and switch to voting) but there have been so many absolute banger suggestions already, i’m really really excited for that one as well! i’m gonna do my best to write for them both if i can too because 💪 the main reason i run events is to also participate in them lmfao. tbh lowkey ship weeks/prompt weeks aren’t that hard to run, but it helps to start the ball rolling a bit early for me because i struggle a lot with fatigue and i have a number of memory issues, so i also try to keep reminders in my phone, like “make and spread x google form today” or “don’t forget to ask luna to make a graphic for me pretty pretty please”. speaking of luna XD she is so helpful tbh bc i don’t know colors and if i tried to make a graphic i’m sure it would be so dull for the first several years because i have not trained for an artistic eye at all but she can do something nice in like an hour and takes payment in kisses lol. i don’t remember where i was going with all of this i got distracted but it’s meant to be a ramble so 🤷 that’s fine. i’m really excited for them both and i’m definitely going to use my mod privilege to get a little head start on writing my fics for them lol. ah, i still need to make the collection for eighthcest weekend as well, and maybe an email to go with it just in case i would at some point like to pass the torch along… lots to think about lots to do, but it’s in little flurries of activity tbh and i have a million other things i need to do rn so like 😅 maybe next week if i can get enough done!

[khalixvitae]

vil is so "no talking stage. mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or die a painful death." and rook is "all day talking stage about how obsessed i am with my most specialest girlfriend now cheer for her or ill blow this whole building up" and it's like yea man. shit. i see god in vil's eyes too. he haunts me. hate it when gnc men make me homosexual.

This is so accurate actually??? I’m working on smth for Vil rn and I’m trying to find a balance so I can convey that kind of 0 to 100 commitment. I keep going back to that line of his in book 5 about how he has no interest in strong arming people into bowing to him and how he prefers it when people do so on their own accord. Vil wants unwavering loyalty, but he also wants to be treated like a person rather than a two dimensional character. He just wants you to see him as the most perfect person to ever walk the earth- and that’s where seeing god in his eyes comes in. He needs to know he can trust you, not just because you’ve got some flighty crush on him- so does everyone else, get in line- but because you’re enamored with his whole being. This means being honest and upfront with him when he does something you disagree with, as well as refusing to shy away from hard truths he has to hear. He doesn’t want you to kiss his ass- honesty like that is a good measure of loyalty, and a foundation for any sort of relationship when he has millions of people obsessing over him. He needs to know you really mean it. It’s complicated, I guess. To me it seems like Vil would want you to level the playing field and treat him like any other person, but then choose him over everyone else in the world because you find him to be so perfect (all his baggage included). But I feel like the mutual connection and respect would be a start for the inevitable mutual pining. Vil is observant by nature and brutally honest to a point- if you reciprocate that without any sort of prompting, he’s going to take to you once he’s sure you’re not trying to get something out of him (just as he took to Rook). You’ll have to know him well to see that he’s in love with you. His affection comes in ways like hard truths big and small, inviting you to do extraordinarily mundane things with him (working out, a quick brunch, etc.), and cosmetics he’s formulated just for you. It’s exceedingly normal for the longest time- he has to know you won’t get bored of him, that you aren’t just interested in his public persona. If you know him that well and still fall head over heels, if you still find god in his eyes? Then he floors it. Or rather it‘s difficult to floor it when the two of you have already so deeply entangled your day to day lives. When did you two get this close? When did you learn so much about him without him telling you outright and Vice versa? Nonetheless it just escalates from there, because then Vil really wants to pick your brain- that mutual understanding gets far deeper far faster once the safety brake is disengaged.

ANYWAYSSSS LMAO I DIDNT. MEAN TO SAY ALL THQT ???? I JUST WOKE UP HAHA ??? THANK YOU FOR YOUR WORDS ANON HEHE HOO !!! YOURE INSIPIRING ME!!!

I am also so very homosexual for gnc men!!!!