#but even he did. would he really blame him?

[pearlymel]

Sylus remembers clearly the day he found out you were both having twins. Twins, as in two babies as yours and his first children.

How you almost passed out when the doctor delivered the news, but he was quick to tell you that everything would be okay.

He's going to be the best husband for you, and for the twins..?

they sure were going to be a handful.

“Sylus!” Sylus' head snapped towards the kitchen, where your voice had come from, “come get your son before i cook him!”

He knew that you were joking. Probably.

the kitchen, one hand holding his little girl's hand guiding her along. "Now, now," he called out as he entered the kitchen, "No cooking the children, sweetie.”

You let out a sigh when you watch the boy run away while letting out giggles, his face and hands full of white flour.

Seeing this, Sylus let out an exasperated sigh as well, his gaze shifting from his running figure to the mess of flour on the floor. "Sorry about the mess he made," he muttered before looking over at you, a sheepish smile on his face. "Go to your brother,” he urges the girl next to him, she nods slowly before running off to him.

“I'll feed him to the ducks one day.” You say with determination, still focused on trying to make this dinner a success after the mess.

But Sylus chuckled at your threat, knowing all too well that you were only half-serious. He could see the twitching in your eyes, but he also knew that you loved both of your children dearly, even if they could be a handful sometimes.

”Though I suspect he would probably find a way to befriend them and make a mess with them.”

“.. why are you right?”

“because i know my children,” he says proudly, then makes slow steps from behind you to not alert you so suddenly, his arms snaking around your waste with his chin resting on your shoulder, “what are you making?”

You smile, “dinner.”

"Smartass," he teased, "I meant what kind of dinner are you making?” he whispers calmly, a soft conversation between you two, with his thumb rubbing ideally on you.

“hm, i could be dinner… but oh well.” you sigh dramatically and he laughs quietly.

You couldn't even continue because you hear a faint “ewwww.” Coming from the corner.

You both glance back at the two heads peeking out from the wall, and you roll your eyes.

"and here I was, having a moment with your mother," he said to them, his voice still low yet amused. "You two really have a knack for interrupting, don't you?”

Your little girl was the first to speak, “it was his idea.” She started quietly, her fingers fidgeting together, but her brother only gasped, “she's lying!”

"Oh, really now?" he’s skeptical, and he approaches both of them with his arms crossed, “Hmm, it's always the innocent ones who lie, isn't it?”

“but I'm not—”

“liar.” The little one huffs and looks away with annoyance, but the minute he could hear his sister im the verge of tears, he knew he messed up.

Sylus was quick to notice her distraught demeanor, his heart clenching slightly at the sight of her on the verge of tears.

"you," Sylus pointed out at the other twin, his voice firmer and authoritative, "did you cause the mess?”

…

Sylus let out a deep sigh, his stern expression softening slightly. He knew he was just being a mischievous little boy, but he also had to nip such behavior in the bud.

"You know better than to blame others for your pranks,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Apologize to your sister.”

The girl sniffled, the threat of tears subsiding as she accepted her brother's apology. She wiped away her stray tears with the back of her hand, a small smile forming on her face.

Sylus nodded approvingly, he patted both of them on their head gently. "There we go, now go back and play together.”

This whole time you were watching the scene with the biggest smile on your face, and Sylus was already prepared for your upcoming teasing words.

“and the father of the year goes to.. you.” ... except he didn't expect this rare sweet statement of yours. He's reminded of why he put a ring on it in the beginning.

"What can I say?" he replied, his voice filled with pride. "I have a talent for handling troublemakers." He placed both of his arms on the counter to your sides, boxing you in, "though, to be fair, they get their mischievous streaks from their mother," he added, and you gasp before turning around. burnt dinner it is.

[natlovesls2]

Never Really Over

Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?

.ೃ࿐request: found here

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least. 

You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined. 

“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”

“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger. 

“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”

“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”

“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back. 

“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”

The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding. 

You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval. 

“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.” 

He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.

“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.” 

“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days. 

“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face. 

“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”

“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile. 

Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control. 

“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.” 

“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend. 

“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back. 

“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”

“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.

Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner. 

“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing. 

“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest. 

His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps. 

“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”

“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you. 

His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck. 

“And?”

“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”

You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss. 

Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in. 

The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.

“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache. 

“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes. 

You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind. 

You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you. 

“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando. 

“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando. 

“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words. 

“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face. 

“Yeah.”

“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”

“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior. 

He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. 

Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped. 

Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.

 Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face. 

Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.

“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”

“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying. 

It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one. 

“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes. 

“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge. 

He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless. 

You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”

Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“But teasing you is so fun.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk. 

“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so. 

“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky. 

“Definitely.”

“Should we go back?”

“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled. 

You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment. 

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)

[nebulousmoon3990]

GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)

II𓂃› POISON

Warning: Negligence (unintentional), Damian being Damian, violence, swearing, sensitive topics,bad things, spelling mistakes (English is not my first language) and reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry), Fem reader!, use of (M/n) for his mother's name, I accept criticism but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!

Two weeks.It had been two weeks since you disappeared, two weeks in which Bruce did and still does everything he can to find you (as the millionaire Bruce Wayne or as Batman), two weeks in which he and possibly no one in the mansion slept properly, two weeks in which guilt gnawed at him in the worst possible way. But even so, Bruce is ashamed to say that in these two weeks he has only been going to his room now.

Could you blame him? Bruce didn't want to go to his room because that would be a way of saying that you died. He refuses to think that way, you are alive, he is sure of it, and he will find you.

However, Bruce's thesis was shattered by his anxiety.

That's why he goes to your room for the first time.

Bruce remembers going there only once, you must have been seven years old, what saddens him the most is that he only went there because there was a problem with the ceiling and that's why you had to change rooms. Your room was on the second floor, a little further away from the others, possibly the room closest to yours was Tim's.

Alfred had to show him where his room was, which made Bruce feel even worse. He didn't know where his own room was! Was he so negligent to that point?

Your room was at the end of the hallway, the only thing that identified it was a guitar sticker on the door, it was faded and dented, possibly having been there for years, wood splinters were visible on the door and the metals on it were very rusty.

Grabbing the doorknob, Bruce hesitated to open it, the logical part of his brain warning that you might feel uncomfortable with him invading your room like that, but his desire spoke louder, gathering courage Bruce opened the door slowly and faced the environment. He was greeted with a sweet smell that reminded him of artificial strawberries, coming from the entire room and Bruce thought that maybe this was the smell you had passed many times.

The first thing he noticed was the appearance of your room, it was smaller than most of the rooms in the mansion. Your bed was next to the window, giving you a view of the mansion's garden, next to the small bed was a nearly empty study table, on it papers and colored pencils were in the corner organized so as not to have a mess, a small swivel chair was there, there were tears and poorly washed stains, but it seemed like you used it a lot. Above the table on the wall were posters of bands and other things, but what caught Bruce's attention was not that, no, it wasn't.

There were trophies, certificates and awards on top of his shelves.

There were so many, so many, that Bruce thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, but it soon proved to be true when he approached the said shelves. There were trophies for gymnastics, literature, computing, swimming, there were awards for drawing, music, and even jiu-jitsu.

Each one was accompanied by a photo of you, photos that were supposed to be taken with your family but most of them were with your instructors, it was possible to see that with each photo that there was your face changed from false joy to not even bothering to smile.

The sight of you in the photos made Bruce's heart break, the worst one of all was one that looked like you were from gymnastics, but in this one you were really exhausted. Sweat was all over your forehead, making your hair stick to it, your eyes were a little red and there was a bruise on your arm, you tried to smile but it was noticeable that the smile was fake and to top it off, to break Bruce's heart? You were holding back tears, tears shining in the corners of your eyes so intensely, but you held it tight, so as not to cry in front of the camera.

Bruce felt horrible, really awful in fact.

He carefully picked up the photo and sat down on the chair, watching you. You must have been eight or nine years old? He didn't know, but you looked so young, so helpless, but you already looked so... broken. As if you knew the weight of the world, the weight that life brought.

He straightened up in the chair and looked at the room again, seeing the back of his room where the wardrobe was. Bruce noticed that next to the large piece of furniture there was a box, almost as worn as the sticker on the door, he got up from the chair leaving the photo on the table next to him, walking over to the box and picking it up with ease. Preferring to sit on the bed instead of the chair he opened the cardboard box to find a computer and a pen drive.

Bruce, so immersed in his thoughts, barely noticed that while he was turning on the old device, someone else was entering the room.

“Bruce?” The aforementioned looked up to see Dick. Looking at his son, he realized how worn out Dick was, whether it was the deep bags under his eyes or the messy hair from so much grabbing and pulling. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” came to see my daughter’s room? Came to try to feel less guilty? Came to try to comfort myself in my pain of not having protected my own daughter? Bruce didn’t know what to answer, fortunately, Dick understood this and decided to see for himself. Carefully, Grayson entered the room and observed with interest, his gaze stopping at the same shelves of trophies that Bruce was interested in, the small smile on Grayson’s face disappeared when he discovered the real reason for the trophies being there.

“W-wait, is that from gymnastics?” Dick looked closer, seeing on the table the same photo Bruce had taken, his anxious eyes roaming the entire shelf, observing his every victory in detail. “Is that all of…(name)?”

“Yeah, and all of hers, all the effort we never saw.” Bruce turned his focus back to the computer, the anguish in his words reminding him of his mistake, while Dick sank in guilt as Bruce himself decided to look at the computer’s contents.

It looked like it hadn't been used for a while, there was dust on the computer and the screen was broken, putting the pen drive in the device a folder appeared on the screen, Bruce clicked and the loading screen appeared on the screen, while it was loading Bruce felt his oldest son sitting next to him, watching the computer next to him and as soon as the loading was finished the two men came across photos.

Very, very old photos of you.

Photos of you as a baby at various points in your childhood outside the mansion, there was a photo of you walking while smiling at the camera, a photo of you sleeping on the couch drooling all over it, a photo of you drinking while wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, and many others.

Bruce heard Dick sigh when he saw you, he had to hold himself back from melting right there, you looked so cute with your chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He wished he could be there at that moment, seeing you so cute, taking care of you, being the father he never was.

But time has passed, you've grown up and are gone now.

Bruce shook off his thoughts when he saw a different photo, in it you had the corners of your mouth covered in what he assumed was chocolate, your hands were covered in the same candy, but what caught Bruce's attention wasn't that, but the woman behind you holding you while laughing at your lameness.

your mother

(M/n) (Last name)

He remembers the woman, kind and caring, a writer from outside Gotham, and although it is strange that she preferred Gotham to live in (with so many other cities more protected than it is), she reached her peak of fame, which made them meet. Just one night with her, nothing more, an affair that didn't go ahead and in which he thought he would forget about her, only for a year later she sends him a letter, talking about you, his daughter.

She didn't ask for anything, not even alimony for herself, she just asked him not to interfere in her daughter's life, although Bruce found the request strange he accepted, being too busy with work to care, he didn't give it due importance at the time.

That was until (M/n) died, her sudden death made him bring you to his house, he fought for custody of you with your aunt, but since he was the one best able to raise you, your custody was given to him.

That was many years ago, he doesn't remember you bringing this computer.

Oh.

Do you keep the computer to remember your mother?

The articles were old, wouldn't it be better to transfer the photos to your cell phone? Or didn't you want to? Maybe you would prefer to keep the computer to remember your memories.

Dick shifted beside him, looking again at the immense trophies on his shelf. “We had her here, and we just ignored her.”

“Dick—”

“We had a diamond in the rough, shining brightly for us, and we just ignored it, and now that she’s gone…” Bruce said nothing, there was nothing to say.

Dick was right.

They had lost a precious stone.

And there was no way to get her back.

Three months.

Nothing about you, no clues, no trails, nothing made it even more difficult because the bus you were on was burned, even if it was left there were no fingerprints, DNA or anything else that would lead them to you.

Dick had to go back to Blüdhaven, continuing his own investigation there. Bruce, knowing that he couldn't do it alone (not this time), put his pride aside and warned the members of the league about your disappearance.

Clark, in an effort to find you, published an article in the Daily Planet about your disappearance, but not even that helped in his search.

The members of the League were alert in each of their cities, looking for clues about you, but nothing came to them, not the organization that kidnapped you or your possible whereabouts.

It was as if you had disappeared from the earth.

Six months.

The police were getting sloppy, probably already giving up on the case. Bruce was still investigating, but how was he going to get deeper into the case if the clues that led to you had disappeared into the wind like dust on the ground?

All he had were your desperate calls for help, your messages, but they led nowhere, your device destroyed without its location.

The family had become more depressed, as if something was missing for everyone present, the immense loneliness in the mansion showing who was missing.

You.

One year.

The case was closed, with nothing to investigate, the Gotham police had more problems to deal with than a missing and possibly dead teenager.

There was… nothing. 

Nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to look for.You were gone.

A long time ago.

What they didn't know was that you weren't gone, but you were there.

“Alright, alright, I think we’re done for today, right?”

The iron-tasting liquid once again rose up in her bile, making the blood in her throat gush out of her mouth, choking her.

The room they were in, previously white, was now stained crimson, clinging deep into the walls as it reflected the light from the lamp.

In the corner of the room stood you, chained up like a beast (which technically wasn’t a lie now). You lay still as the toxic green liquid entered your veins, the acidity still biting your skin.

Doctor Magnus was the one in front of you, the man with long black hair and golden eyes was watching you dangerously, the loving attitude that many could see as a father educating his son was nothing more than a facade of sadistic malice from the man.

He disgusted you.

They all did.

All of them, all of them, all of them, ALL OF THEM-

Magnus watched as the syringe that connected the tube in your neck finished injecting the toxin into your veins, with the process finished, Magnus approached you and pulled it from your neck.

With the brutality with which he pulled the syringe, you hissed in pain, your abnormally large fangs showing themselves to the doctor, the protective instinct emerging in your brain. Despite the offense, Magnus just smiled at you.

Stepping away from you, he lowered your restraints making you feel a little comfortable. With his fingerprint, the doctor opened the automatic door, before leaving he stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder, his gaze meeting yours.

“Get plenty of rest (Name)…” the man’s smirk widened, the evil coursing through him making her stomach churn with fear.

"Tomorrow your experiments will intensify.”

Okay, I'm a little disappointed (I was hoping to write one more, but I couldn't add anything without it affecting the next chapter), well I'll make up for it in the next chapter.

Here's the tag list \(•◡•)/:

@daiyanomochi - @amber-content - @wizzerreblogs - @foggyv-oid - @kore-of-the-underworld - @theunknowntravel3r - @space1crow - @shortnsweetsposts - @popursocks - @sugasweettea - @salfishers - @itachisank - @jsprien213 - @infirebaby - @yhin-gg -@h-ib

@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93

sorry for any mistakes.

Bye

[biteyoubiteme]

don't you want me?

soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: don't you want your boyfriend?

warnings: 🔞!!! this is just smut no plot lol, some nipple play, soobin calls reader bunny, no protection, creampie, fingering, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.9k

an: thank you so much saturn for requesting! I hope you like this one sorry it’s short ;-; <3333

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

had only been a day since the last time you had seen him, snuggled up in his bed after he had tired himself out with using you. It wasn't uncommon for him to go round after round, at least not with you. No partner had ever made him feel this needy, always hard even after one go. His whiny pleas to keep going mixed with his scrunched brow always worked to get you to agree. He was always so good at begging. 

You had planned a study date, your bag weighing down your shoulder as you knocked on his door. Sometimes you even got some studying done, only it was usually when you were in public and not plagued by the thought of his bedroom only being a foot away. Because you were also to blame for always getting him started, purposefully wearing things he couldn't keep his eyes off of, and brushing his thigh every other time you had the chance to. 

Now was no different, although it wasn't intentional, you really did think you would get some kind of studying done.Dressed down in your pajamas, oversized shirt covering your shorts enough to give soobin the illusion that you had none on in the first place. He pulls your bag from you, having enough control to place it down on the coffee table before tugging you down with him onto the couch. 

“You didn't even say hi!” you're giggling, his kisses peppering down your neck, hips pushing you into the sofa, hands pushing up your shirt. 

“Hi, hello, I'm sorry, I just missed you,” he's not even trying to hide the fact he's already hard, that he's been hard just thinking about you coming over. 

“We both have exams tomorrow,” you try to remind him, fingers brushing through his hair as his lips are finding half-faded marks he's sucked onto your skin only the day before. “We should really study,” 

“Don't you want me?” he asks, nose bumping your ear, hand sliding down the outside of your thigh. “because all I could think about was the way you felt under me,” he hooks his hand under your knee pulling your leg enough so that he can sink his hips closer to yours. “how am I supposed to pay attention to anything other than you?” 

All you can respond with is a moan when he presses his bulge against you, dragging his hips to put pressure right on your clothed clit. “please bunny, please,” 

You didn't need much begging to get stripped, even less begging when you finally felt him slip into you. His whining gasps fanning over your skin, one hand keeps him up and the other squeezes your breast, thumb running over your peaked nipple. “Look at your perfect tits, all for me,” 

He's trying to hold back, to draw out the pleasure as long as he can but it's impossible when buried in you. Warm walls sucking him in, begging for him to just pound into you, push you into the sofa, and just take over without any thoughts on his mind. He wants to, just thinking about it makes him whimper, “Tell me you missed me, didn't you miss me?” 

“Yes-” you gasp, arms wrapped around his neck, the heels of your feet digging into his ass pushing him closer to you. “I missed you so much,” 

“I missed your perfect pussy, bunny, always so ready and wet for me,” all of his rambling broken up by throaty moans, “I can't stop thinking about you, filling you up,” 

His rhythmic thrusts press so deep inside you, leaving you speechless with every drag. But he's not paying attention to getting you off just yet, his body disconnecting from his mind as he beats his hips against yours. He feels his orgasm building and knows any second he will cum. Enough to make it so easy to keep going, stuffing it all right back in, just thinking about it has him whimpering in your ear. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” you ask, his body falling closer to you, always wanting to be pressed as close as he can get when he cums.

He’s nodding into your neck, breathy whines mixing with his answer. “Yes, oh god- please,” every sloppy thrust followed by his little ah-ah’s. “You feel so good, I’m-” he feels his balls draw up, his hips stuttering to a stop as he lets out streams of cum into your waiting cunt, cock pulsing as he moans into your neck. It isn't until he pulls out and catches his breath that he realizes that you didn't finish, too caught up in chasing his own high. 

“I'm so sorry bunny, let me take care of you as good as you take care of me,” 

He gave you no time to realize the switch, his long fingers shoving into your sensitive entrance, pushing back in all his cum as he pumps in time with his previous thrusts. He uses his other hand to fiercely rub at your clit. The stimulation makes your back arch, hands scratching at the fabric of the couch. “Look at my pretty bunny,” he coos, the squelching sounds from all your slick mixing with your moans. “Are you going to cum for me?” he asks, using your own words on you. 

“Yes- yes-” It's almost too much for you, his fingers not stopping even as you cum. You're a mess of stammering words and faltering breaths, trying to find yourself as your knees try to close in around him. 

Just watching you fall apart is enough to get him semi-hard again, ready for another round. He slathers his wet fingers over your entrance, keeping as much wetness as possible from sliding out. “Just one more please-” 

“Soobin our exams-” 

“Please, I'll be quick, don't you want me?” 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! and thank you to @hyukascampfire for being the sweetest angel who ever lived, personally taking the time to read this for me ily. 🤍

[enigmatist17]

This AU by @keferon has been burrowing in my brain

---

In hindsight, Jazz realized he was stupid.

Unabashedly, completely stupid.

No one back home would have called a mecha pilot stupid, not with all the pain and training it took to even have a chance to look at a suit, but he was! He shouldn't have stayed out too long on the mission that had changed his fate, shouldn't have waved at that stupid satellite, but he did, and was taken far from home and brought to a place that was slowly becoming his second.

Cybertron.

Jazz was stupid when he decided to keep the fact that he wasn't truly one of them to himself, realizing eventually he was as alien as they were. He was stupid when he began to work with the Cybertronians rather than find a way back home, fighting the things that had brought him out deep into space in an effort to stave off homesickness. Oh, Jazz was so fucking stupid when he began to make friends with these Cybertronians, laughing at jokes he didn't quite understand and listening to their woes as he settled into their strange but oddly Earthen-like way of life.

What made him the most idiotic lifeform this side of the galaxy, however, was falling for one bot in particular.

Prowl had been the very first alien he'd met, speaking to him in that beautiful Cybertronian melody (language but whatever) that cut right through the pain he'd been in. Call it an inevitability, call it destiny, Prowl was the first one he'd met, and Jazz made damn sure he'd make a friend out of him. Sure, it was hard at first as Jazz had to not only decode an entire alien language but learn how to mimic it through his mecha, but once he got the ball rolling, it was a breeze. Prowl had been uncomfortable with him at first, which, all things aside, he didn't quite blame the mech for being suspicious of a strange mech, but over time he'd won him over. Of course, his stupidity would eventually catch up mere days after he had finally worked up the courage to actually tell Prowl how he felt, because the universe knew how stupid he was.

It came in the form of a Quintesson blade catching him in the wrong area, slicing right through his mecha's chest armor and right into his piloting seat. It took a second to register that something was wrong, the connection with his suit fizzling out when Jazz felt the pain from his actual body slamming into him like a truck. He knew pulling the blade out was stupid, but Jazz needed it out right now ohfuckithurtsstopthepain -

He's not sure how long he was out, but he knew the jig was up the moment he started coming to.

Muted voices sounded out from around him, some laced with anger, others with curiosity, and only one with concern. Jazz knew it was Prowl's, and judging from the finger (it's a digit come on now idiot) that gently poked his side, he was most likely unsure of what to think at the moment. With a sigh, Jazz slowly cracked open his eyes, finally taking in the mech he'd come to love with his own eyes for the first time.

"Hiya Prowler." His voice is scratchy with dehydration, the tactician and everyone else in the room going silent at his voice. "What's shakin'?"

"Jazz?" The wings (doorwings man come on) he spent hours watching twitched in discomfort, helm tilted as Jazz tried to sit up, only to hiss and slump back with a groan. "It is not wise to move right now, your...you are heavily damaged."

"Gettin' stabbed does that to ya." The attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, but no one is really sure how to react, so they don't call him out on it. He can see Ironhide and Optimus staring at him from behind Prowl, the Prime looking mystified, while Ironhide seemed to be going back and forth from awe to suspicion to uncertainty.

"Pulling the blade out instead of waiting for help was extremely poor judgment," Ratchet grumbled from the other side of Jazz, the medic giving him a grumpy look. "However, if you hadn't, I would not have found...you."

"Where's my mecha?" Jazz slowly moved to pull the scrap of cloth he'd been covered in back, honestly surprised with how neatly his midsection had been bandaged, or whatever the strange gel substitute was. "Oh...huh."

"Your frame's in a private med bay, I've been able ta repair some of it so far." Wheeljack moved into view with a cheerful wave, having picked up the motion from Jazz. "I've got ta tell ya, I'm impressed with all the work that's gone into it!"

"Thanks." Jazz gently poked at the gel after smiling at the scientist, eyeing the wound underneath with a sick sort of fascination. "I was expectin' this to be worse."

"Some of our organic allies were able to help to an extent, but your biology was only so similar." Ratchet shook his head, clearly displeased. "You're not going anywhere anytime soon, so I would get comfortable. In fact, I want everyone out so Jazz can get some rest, everyone but Prowl." Despite all the questions most of the high command had, Ratchet's word was law, so the medbay emptied until it was just Jazz and Prowl.

"Do you require anything?" Prowl's voice was the same as it always was, but Jazz had come to know him enough that he was tense and sorely out of his element.

"I could use some water, but I can go without." Those wings raise a fraction of an inch (or he's guessing, it's hard to tell without his enhanced sight sigh), and he winces. "Y-You're fine Prowler, I'm fine."

"You are not fine." Prowl grabbed a nearby stool and dragged it over, sitting at the head of the bed that seemed too large for the tiny organic. "I do not understand how you can say that."

"Pain is an old friend, I just...normally have access ta the proper help, ya know?" Jazz adjusted himself to have a better view of his mech, heart skipping a beat when Prowl reached over to gently help, the metal cool against his back. "Thanks."

"Jazz? May I ask you something?" His servo remained where it was, moving to brush against the side of Jazz's face with the greatest care he could manage. "Why did you not tell us?"

"Well...I'm stupid." Jazz leaned into the touch with a soft hum, Prowl's head tilting at the noise. "I figured you were all piloted mecha like myself, just with more money poured inta ya, but by the time I figured out you weren't...it was too late?" Prowl didn't need to know the reason he'd vanished for two days was to deal with the mental breakdown he had at the news, not his proudest moment.

"Why have you not sought to return home?" Prowl watched as several microexpressions crossed the org- Jazz's face, brown optics flickering between his face and the berth as he struggled with the answer.

"Honestly? Besides fightin' these bastards who attack my home on their turf? You."

Oh

Wings taut with tension relaxed as the information was processed, a soft click escaping his vocalizer as Prowl looked down at the person who had turned his life around.

"What I said to you a few days ago? It's true, every damn word of it." Jazz leaned his head to press his dermas to Prowl's digit, and idly, he wondered what it must taste like to an organic. "I fell for ya, heart an' soul."

"...what is a heart?" The laugh that burst from Jazz's dermas nearly made Prowl jump, the sound familiar as it was strange without the vocalizer in Jazz's frame. He's not sure why the question is so amusing, but then again, Jazz had always had a peculiar sense of humor, so all he could do was give a rare smile to his organic as the tension in the room slowly faded away.

"Ah Prowler, always known how ta make me feel better." The ache from the laugh aside, Jazz smiled at seeing Prowl's doorwings completely relaxed, the good deed of the day accomplished.

"I do try." The Praxian leaned forward to gently press helm against Jazz's, giving a soft purr as he cycled his optics off. "I am relieved you are safe, when I saw your energon staining Ratchet's servos..."

"I'm a stubborn guy, one blade isn't takin' me out." Jazz reached over with his better arm to touch Prowl's cheek, the metal warm against his hand. "Got too much ta live for."

"Indeed."

Ratchet returned a breem later to find the organic deep in recharge, Prowl cradling Jazz in his servos. Some unfamiliar thick fabric was resting between Jazz and the limb, cushioning the injured man far better than the fabric someone had found in a storage crate, judging by the lack of stuttered venting they had heard earlier. Prowl said nothing to the medic as he continued to murmur to Jazz as he read through a data pad, looking down occasionally to watch the subtle rise and fall of Jazz's chassis. Prowl still surprised the older bot with his dedication to work despite holding his injured partner, only shaking his helm as he dropped off some energon before disappearing into his office for his own work. There was going to be a lot of chaos when Jazz would have the chance to talk to everyone else, the news already spreading like a virus throughout the army, but that was a problem for another cycle.

For now, Jazz was resting with the mech he'd fallen for, and as far as Prowl was concerned, nothing would interrupt his partner's rest.

[arthursfuckinghat]

One Jack and John Marston moment I think about pretty often, is how John was able to calm his son down from a near panic attack after they were ambushed near Strawberry in the epilogue.

Jack was freaking out, his thoughts going a million miles an hour, but John was able to distract him by talking about Beecher's Hope and soothe him by assuring that he did a good job back there.

And it worked, he calmed Jack down. Sure, Jack wasn't happy, but you cannot blame a twelve year old for that.

The reason I think about this moment is less because of how well they bonded there and then, but more because of the potential they had to really be close if it was always like that.

John and Jack had a complicated relationship from John being so absent in the boy's life, even in rdr1 they were still on rough terms because Jack resented John for leaving as he grew older.

It gets better, but then John dies.

John lost his chance to fix his relationship with his son properly, but they could have been so close if John put in the work sooner and had the same patience he did at the end.

Maybe it wouldn't have stopped Jack from becoming an outlaw, maybe it would have, but Jack could have had a father he wanted to make proud - instead of one he wanted to avenge.

[01zfan]

good luck charm | l. sh

basketball player!sohee x physical trainer!reader | 7.5k words

finally a happy sohee fic who cheered? anyways every since the we riize basketball episdoe i've been jonesing to write a basketball player sohee fic.

contains: fwb relationship, pining kinda, sex without a condom (don’t be like them)

You were trapped in another period of doom scrolling when you heard the whistle blown in the gym. Instantly you turned your phone off and got down from the table, throwing your backpack over your shoulder before heading to the door. You did a once over of the room, looking to make sure everything was in its place before turning off the lights and locking the door.

You heard the projected voice of the coach in the gym over the music in your earbuds, but you didn’t rush yourself to hear the ending notes of the practice. Each time it was the same—Get rest, Show up on time for the game tomorrow, Don’t embarrass our team—said to a group of sweating boys who wanted nothing more than to leave. 

You put the keys to the examination room in your pocket the same time you used your body to open up the door to the gym. The door never seemed to get lighter or quieter, the sound of it unlocking echoed off the walls. The team barely spared you a glance as you came in, hearing exactly what you thought you would. The janitors were already coming in to clean up the sweat off the floor and prepare for the game tomorrow. The coach insisted on talking even when the buffer machine came in, whirring and loud on the waxed floors of the court. The basketball team tried their best to focus, but you could see so clearly their minds were starting to wander as their bodies became restless. Some of them sat on the court and others stood, some of them still had their jerseys on and some of them were completely shirtless as they waited for their coach to finally be done.

“I’m surprised you’re still here.” 

Giselle, the student manager, whispered into your ear when you went to stand beside her. She was off to the side, putting away the rolling cart filled with basketballs into the supply room when you started making a beeline to her. Standing next to the coach was just asking for him to put you on the spot, telling you to instruct the team on how to properly take care of their bodies. Ever since that incident you settled for standing off to the side towards the bleachers, out of his line of sight and ear shot. 

“Someone has to stay.” You adjusted the strap on your backpack as you both sat down on the bottom row of the bleachers. “I was the only one left.”

“Doctor Kim left early?” Giselle turned to you and you nodded. She scoffed before leaning back to grab her duffle bag, putting it over her shoulder. She smoothed out her hair and continued looking forward, speaking to you quietly. “I can’t blame him. No one had been getting injured lately.” She said.

“It makes my job really boring.” You added honestly.

Sohee was pulled from another tirade from his coach when he heard Giselle’s laugh. A few members on their team faced the two of you on the bleachers before going back to the coach, but Sohee lingered on you. Honestly he never stopped giving you attention, the moment you walked into the gym he watched you in his peripheral, looking at his coach but focusing on you. It was harder to pull away from your face as you smiled proudly at making your friend laugh before telling her to quiet down. He felt himself smile just by looking at you. He absentmindedly played with the lace of his shoe, his coach’s words being banished to the furthest part of his mind.

“We have a game tomorrow, don’t forget to rub your good luck charms and pray to your God’s tonight.” He said.

Sohee’s attention was all focused on you that he noticed how quickly you snapped your head towards the coach. As if good luck charm was your name and he shouted it, your eyes were widen in attention for a split second before you relaxed. After your eyes found the coach it drifted to Sohee, as if you felt him already looking at you. The sudden eye contact caused you to look away and it caused Sohee to look down at the basketball court. He sat right on the half court line, his finger traced over the thick line before leaning back on his hands. 

“I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” The coach said.

Instantly the atmosphere of the gym changed. As if someone let out a pensive exhale everyone relaxed, someone even cheered that practice was finally over. Sohee stood up from the court and his teammates started going through the doors, filtering into the locker rooms to shower and head home. Sohee watched you and Giselle get up from the bleachers, talking to one another as you two headed straight for the exit. He barely moved from his spot on the court before you were out, pushing your body against the door and leaving it opened with one hand so Giselle could follow after you.

When Sohee made it to the locker room, people were already showering. Some of his teammates omitted the shower entirely, just throwing on their sweats before heading back to their dorms. Sohee couldn’t blame them, many of his teammates were actually going home to rest before the game. Sohee on the other hand didn’t have plans to sleep until way later into the night. He was technically only here in the showers buying time, waiting for you to get to your dorm so he could send you the infamous text.

Before pulling his change of clothes from his duffle bag he pulled out his phone, fingers sliding and tapping over the glass screen before pressing send.

Sohee: i have a game tomorrow.

Almost immediately, he saw you typing a response.

i know sohee

His teammate went to a locker beside him, opening it up before closing it loudly. Sohee was sure he said something to him in passing, but he only offered a head nod before going back to the conversation. He was biting his lip to hide his smile as he thought about you texting him while walking with your friend. He’s made tremendous progress, before you used to not bother texting him until you were completely alone. 

Sohee: you know

Sohee: you’re my good luck charm

Sohee: my biggest fan

Sohee: so i should come over

Sohee: so we can win tomorrow.

The trick was to send you a flurry of texts at once. He didn’t know if multiple messages loosened you up but it always worked in his favor. Sohee leaned against the open door of his locker seeing the text bubble appear at the bottom, already knowing what it was going to say. He already had the response locked and loaded, his finger resting over the send button. 

my place is a mess.

Sohee: that’s okay.

alright. 

knock when you get here.

Sohee was giddy as he closed the door to his locker and headed to the showers. He couldn’t get rid of the smile on his face as he showered, he grinned while shampoo ran down his face and smiled like an idiot when he was done. He went over your text messages a million times as he walked across campus. To anyone else the alright was ordinary, maybe even less than that. But to Sohee, being able to see your place in disarray or anything else than perfect was the highest honor.

In the beginning when you first started seeing Sohee, he remembered that you apologized profusely for any semblance of a mess. You apologized for a few dishes in your sink and unfolded hand towels. If you couldn’t drop a quarter on the taut sheets of your bed you equated your place to a pig sty. One time when he came over you forced him to wait outside as you cleaned your place. Sohee remembers waiting in the courtyard of your dormitory building, counting the minutes until you finally sent him the text that he was good to come in. You answered the door disheveled and breathing heavy, and when he tried opening your closet for a spare change of clothes you nearly screamed Wait! so the pile of things you couldn’t put away properly wouldn’t be revealed. 

Sohee couldn’t believe it took him three weeks to finally see a mess in your room. He also couldn’t believe how excited he was to see it. He would’ve never thought seeing clutter on your counter space for the first time would bring a smile to his face, that your unmade bed somehow seemed more comfortable than when the sheets were tucked in neatly at the corners. He liked seeing your open textbooks with your messy notes and a week’s worth of unfolded laundry pushed to the corner of your room. He enjoyed seeing your dirty dishes a little too much and seeing your shy face when you quickly bent over to pick up dirty laundry you forgot was there. 

He blames what Anton dubbed his “mess-kink” on the fact that he spent half of the season trying to see the inside of your room. You guys met in too open of a setting, shoulder to shoulder in the living room of a cramped house party one of his teammates threw. For some reason the team thought that the best way to start the season was to pack everyone like sardines into an off-campus apartment and supply everyone with shitty liquor. There were no snacks, no chasers, just extremely cheap vodka and loud music. It was a perfect storm and it pushed you right into Sohee, or made you fall into him. One second he was talking to his friends and the next he was turned away from them completely, holding onto your forearm to keep you upright.

“You good?” Sohee slurred.

Sohee turned quickly to his friends, but they didn’t notice his absence in the conversation. No one could’ve noticed anything. people were practically stacked on top of eachother in the tiny space, pushing one another as they rocked to the music. Sohee truthfully wasn’t all the way there either. He was never the drinker but he wanted to have a good season, even if it came at the cost of being sick at early morning practice the next day. He was already feeling the effects from the tiny amount he had, and he tried forcing moments of sobriety when he heard the syllables of his words drag. He didn’t know you were even further gone until you were upright but still kept your eyes on the side of his face instead of looking at him in the eyes.

“You good?” He repeated.

“Your moles are pretty.” You said.

Sohee couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Here you were, halfway to the floor but you found more important things on the side of his face, letting your eyes run up and down his cheeks like you were trying to map something. Sohee pulled on your arm but you seemed to be in a trance, only snapping out of it when he spoke to you again.

“Thank you.” Sohee said.

When he lightly pulled on your arm you finally stood up. Sohee looked at your lips, how you chewed on them when you finally started looking at the other parts of his face.

“Are you alright?” Sohee asked you again.

You nodded your head, but Sohee still wasn’t sure if you heard him or not. You had a far off look in your eye, bleary and glassy from all the alcohol. He was sure he matched you, the longer he looked at you the more tipsy he felt. His brief moment of sobriety came and went as you got closer to him, entirely too close for strangers.

“Your moles are really cute.” You said it again, this time right in his ear.

Sohee nodded, and leaned his head closer to yours so he could talk directly in your ear. He focused on the gold jewelry that dangled from your ear and moved each time a swaying body bumped into yours. 

“You told me that already.” He laughed.

You seemed to remember, because you giggled right into Sohee’s ear after a beat of silence. He didn’t know when his hand found the small of your back to hold you close or when your hands went to his shoulder to keep him in place. Both of you were giggling drunk messes, strangers with their cheeks touching in the middle of a house party that was going to get busted by cops any second. 

You pulled away from Sohee first. He didn’t know then that he was hooked on you and that his face felt cold without your warm cheek pressing against his. He felt the heat dust across his face when you looked at him. The same bleary eyes that stared at the side of his face was wide and alert now, staring right through him as you gripped his shoulder a little tighter. You brought another wave of sobriety, and he used his consciousness to let his hand splay even further across your skin. 

You said something, Sohee knew you did. Your bitten lips moved and then they stopped, and when you were done your eyes scanned his face waiting for an answer. He tried focusing his swaying vision on your lips, but he only found himself getting more distracted. Eventually he shook his head and brought his face close to yours again.

“I can’t hear you.” Sohee took his chance to press his cheek against yours more than he needed to. “The music is too loud.” He said gently.

He felt you nod against his head and suddenly the red solo cup that was in your hand was gone as you brought your newly freed hand to his face. You turned his head slightly and came even closer than before. Sohee could feel your lips against the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“I asked if this was your place.” You said.

Sohee felt one of your hands drift to the crook of his neck, resting there heavily as you spoke. In the midst of the party he was able to still focus on your words, even if they registered slowly. He shook his head against your face, and Sohee felt your warm breath fan his ear as you let out a breathy giggle.

“Do you know somewhere we can be alone?” You asked.

Sohee didn’t need anymore hints from you before he was pulling you through the packed crowd by your hand. He told himself he would just have to ask for forgiveness from Anton later when he opened his friends locked bedroom door. 

The door barely closed behind Sohee before you had your hands on him. Within seconds the back of Sohee’s legs bumped against the couch, and you used clumsy drunken force to push him down the rest of the way. The surprise nearly knocked the breath out of him, his hand instinctually went to the armrest of the couch for some stability. 

He watched you walk towards him from your place, something between a lion stalking its prey and a newborn deer taking its first steps. You giggled realizing the sway in your steps and Sohee did the same after readjusting himself in his seat.

He realized quickly that nothing was funny when you put your knees on either side of him to straddle his waist. He took in a breath when your hands clasped together behind his neck. He held you steady despite the thudding in his chest and the look in your eyes that became even more hungry. When you leaned further Sohee took the chance to snake his hand underneath the fabric of your tight shirt, feeling your soft skin the material clung to. 

When Sohee let his hand drift up further and you preened further into his touch he looked up at you fully. When his neck exposed you stared at his bobbing Adam’s apple before licking your lips. Your eyes went even lower, and he settled into the couch to get a better look at you. He held onto this wave of sobriety, trying to not fall back into the drunk haze he was drifting in and out of. But he couldn’t stop the dim light behind your head from swaying. You moved and the light casted a shadow behind you that looked like a crown; Sohee dug his hand deeper into your waist to try and ground himself as he tried remembering what it felt like to be sober. He felt your hand tug at his hair and he started gripping at whatever flesh he could grab.  

Both of you were smiling at eachother like drunk fools, neither of you making a move. When Sohee finally made it to your chest he palmed it, pressing deep over the padding of your bra. You reacted like there was nothing separating the two of you, leaning back so far that Sohee had to wrap his full arm around you to keep you from falling backwards. You leaned into his touch fully, coming so close that his face pressed into your stomach. Sohee placed an experimental sloppy kiss on the exposed skin, patting himself on the back when your breath hitched. You came close and pressed an equally sloppy kiss to his hairline, then to his cheek, then to a mole. You ended at his ear, your hot breath fanning the shell as you poked your tongue out. Sohee shivered underneath you and pulled you closer, widening his legs so you had more space to sit. He waited in anticipation when your face settled into the crook of his neck.

But he felt nothing.

Sohee thought that you were building up tension, or that you had another wave of sobriety that made you realize you were about to have a drunk hookup with an equally drunk basketball player in a not so secluded space at a house party. Sohee was getting ready to pull away from you and ask you if you were okay, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of snoring. Sohee laughed in disbelief on the couch with you snuggling deeper into him and even groaning that he was disturbing your sleep.

Your encounter that night ended then and there, with Sohee delicately taking you off his lap and going back into the crowded house party to find your friends and lead them to you.

He thought that he would never see you again, but he heard from you shortly after. Your first message to him was over Instagram direct messages, apologizing for how you behaved the night prior. After he accepted your apology, he came to the realizationg that you were going to be his teams trainer and he would be seeing you everyday of the season.

From the first day of practice, Sohee could tell you were so put together. Even when put on the spot by his coach you spoke evenly, inviting his team to come to you if they had any questions about keeping their body healthy. You were also so elusive, tucked away in the examination room everyday while practice was happening. The only time Sohee was actually able to see you was during parties when the two of you would sneak off together to secluded rooms.

For a long time Sohee believed that he was destined for a life of fucking you on sofas at crowded college parties. He didn’t know how many That doesn’t look like dried cum’s and No, it doesn’t smell like sex in here’s he had left in him. But as if the God’s shined down on him he got the unmistakable hey, are you up? text right when he needed you the most. Instead of sleeping Sohee threw on a pair of sweats and cleared the campus to get to your place embarrassingly fast. 

You let him in that night without actually letting him in. Sohee was only shown the sparkling bits of your personality, you two truthfully only really spoke when you were having sex. He found himself asking casual questions about your life in between moments of you two making out and grabbing at eachother.

He spent the season chiseling away at you through teasing to try and get you to be comfortable. So coming into your room and seeing the unfolded clothes was arguably more rewarding than a flawless basketball season. 

He had to fight the smile when he made it into your room, his hands running over and screwing with anything he could touch. He always picked up your keys from the dish beside your door and messed with the trinkets you had hanging down. He started locking and unlocking your door repeatedly, just to hear the metal bolt ring through your entryway. 

“The season is almost over.” Sohee walked past you, already putting his hands on your dresser. 

He ran his hands over the top, not caring that he bumped the items that rested in his path. He only turned back to you with a gloating smile. Sohee turned back to continue messing with your things. After he ran his hand over your dresser he went to your desk, passing by you as you stood in front of the door. He got to your desk and started pushed your pens, messing up their order and dragging your papers from one end of your desk to the other.

“I know Sohee.” You said as you started putting everything back in place behind him.

Each time Sohee’s finger pushed a pencil you put it back in its case and when he opened one of your textbooks to a random page you reached across his body to close it. He leaned into your pushes, he even played it up like his body was actually being knocked around by your gently bumping. 

Seeing how far he could push you was always a game to him, he only giggled when you smacked away his hand when he started fiddling with the straps of your backpack that hung off your office chair. 

“We’ve had a nearly perfect season.” He said.

“Congratulations.” You neatly stacked your textbooks back on top of eachother. “I told you that you’d do great this season. Alot of really talented athletes.” You said while fixing the straps of your backpack.

“You know why right?”

Sohee felt the corner of your desk poke into his leg as he leaned against it. He caught your eye for a second before you turned back to your desk, fixing the things he touched.

He was relaxed even from the dull pain of the wood, looking down at the furrow in your eyebrows while you carefully reorganized everything back to its place. He silently watched you go from your desk to the space surrounding your bed, moving things from one side of your room to the other. You had your unfolded clean clothes resting on top of your bed, and Sohee watched you gather the clothes in your arms before walking over to your office chair that he stood next to.

“If you say it’s because of me, I’m going to hit you.” You say.

Sohee eyed you with the large mass of clothes in your hands, the pile obstructing your line of sight. He put his hand on the armrest of your chair, getting ready to push it out of your way right before you dropped the clothes onto the seat. Before he could, he saw a pair of your underwear fall from the large pile of clothes. He took his hands away from the chair and grabbed it, balling it in his hands before showing you what he caught.

“Can I keep these?” When you put the clothes in the chair you narrowed your eyes at Sohee and reached for the pair he quickly pulled it out of your reach. “For good luck?” He added.

You let your pile of clothes fall onto the chair before grabbing your underwear out of Sohee’s hands. You put your underwear on top of the pile of clothes. When Sohee pouts at you you close the distance between the two of you. You don’t hesitate to put your hands on either side of his body, caging him between your desk and you. 

Sohee tries to be all talk. His teammates constantly comment on his attitude and habit of snarky comments. He always blames it on the fact that he is the youngest sibling out of sisters, he basically can’t help it. But when you get too close and are pressed up against him like this, he loses his train of thought. He doesn’t have a comeback when you look down at his lips and stay there, he doesn’t have anything to say when you fake pout before looking back up at him.

“I thought I was your good luck charm?” You say.

Sohee nods his head. You somehow find a way to get even closer to him, despite still feeling so far away. He sees the remnants of your lipstick, he feel the warmth coming off of you in waves. Sohee finds himself inching closer to you, then he feels you finally touch him. Your hands let go of the edges of your desk to go to his forearms, then slowly all the way up to his shoulders. All cockiness Sohee had dissipates from his body when he feels your hands travel the plane of his shoulders, ending right at the base of his neck. His hands instinctively go to your waist, and he fully leans against your desk to slot his leg between yours. Instantly, like Sohee’s thigh is a seat made just for you, you put your weight on his leg. Sohee sighs at the feeling of your warmth against him, and you sigh from the pressure.

You were still feeling Sohee up when you started dragging your hips against his. He wasn’t sure why watching you grind on his thigh was doing so much to him, but he was already feeling the ache. He felt you clutch at him, then he felt your hands leave his body to go back to gripping the edge of the desk. You were clumsy this time, your hands wrinkled papers underneath the pads of your fingers and your dragging thrusts on Sohee’s thigh disrupted the perfect order you had set on your desk. Pens and pencils and journals clattered over the sides and fell to your wooden floor, the wood creaked underneath your shared weight. Sohee watched you press your head into his shirt, he could feel your spit seep through the thin material and your tiny whines fill the air. Sohee was beginning to feel himself need more but you were becoming so reckless that he had to move his hand to grip the edge of your desk too. 

His palm hurt by the time your moans became too whiny. His other hand reached forward to still your hips, and you pulled your face from his chest to look at him. Your eyes were already so wet, your face was already getting the light glow caused by a thin layer of sweat.

“Slow down.” Sohee was just as overwhelmed, each look from you left his dick pressing against the fabric of his sweats. “You don’t wanna cum from just that.” He said.

“I want more.” You said.

Sohee didn’t have a chance to calm you down before your hand reached underneath the waistband of his sweats. He could barely wrap his hand around your wrist before the other was working his pants down his body. Any sounds of shock or teasing was swallowed up by your lips smashing against his again.

When your hands pushed his pants down to his thighs Sohee took the initiative to move them the rest of the way. He stood up from your desk and let you continue devouring his face as his hands greedily pushed down his pants the rest of the way.

He was admittedly wound up by you. Feeling you abandon your inhibitions in your messy room made him reckless. He almost fell when he tried stepping out of his sweats and his imbalance caused you two to stumble through the tiny space in your room. Sohee was only able to regain his balance when he leaned up against the edge of your desk again.

Unfortunately any attempt Sohee was trying to make to get you to slow down was futile. Him leaning against the desk gave you a slight height advantage on him, and you somehow found a way to kiss him even deeper. With your hands on his face moving him the way you wanted to while you were fully clothed and he was pant-less made him red in the face.

“There’s too much shit on my bed.” You said in between kisses.

That wasn’t the first time Sohee has heard those words fall from your lips. Sohee has fucked you on your couch when there were clothes piled from one end to another. He’s fucked you on your desk while you were in the middle of an assignment, papers stacked high and textbooks cracked open as he bent you over the wooden surface. He’s fucked you in the bathroom you shared with the people on the other side of your wall when your room was messy. At this point he was used to the chaos he was starting to think he preferred it. 

But before Sohee could tell you he didn’t care, he felt your hands pull him from the edge of your desk down to the ground. 

This was new. 

“You wanna do it here?” Sohee asked breathlessly.

You nodded in between the kisses your placed on his neck. He couldn’t argue even when the wood floors were already becoming a pain on his bent knee. Sohee couldn’t deny the sureness in your eyes or the way your hands went to the bottom of his shirt before pulling upwards.

By the time Sohee took his shirt off you were already undressing yourself, pants and underwear gone in one go before you took your own shirt off. Sohee took off his boxers and tossed his clothes on the same pile you made, right next to another pile of clothes he assumed to be dirty.

“Right here.” You answered.

When he was unsure what to do next you went ahead and pushed him by his shoulders, leading him down until his beck was flush with your cold hardwood floors. Sohee let out a shiver and a breath.

“You cold?” You asked.

Sohee nodded as you started straddling him. He could feel the warmth from your naked body, warming the areas of him that were cooling from the nervous sweats across his skin. 

Your smile when he nodded was almost sinister. Sohee still couldn’t stop himself from smiling back at you.

Sohee’s cold hands find your thighs as you bring your hips to rest on his. The sudden change in his body temperature causes him to shiver again, the feeling of his dick between your warm cunt causes more precum to leak onto his lower stomach. He doesn’t think he can handle you grinding on him, not if he wants to maintain the last bit of the composed demeanor he tries to present to you. He just grips your thighs harder, and his outstretched leg bumps into the edge of your desk.

He can see you trying to figure out what to do next. If you should draw out this torture or have mercy on him, if you should coo at him affectionately or taunt him some more. Sohee watches your eyes flicker to the top of your dresser, where there was always a pile of condoms stacked on top. Every week you’d snag a handful from the on campus clinic in between your classes. Stuffed in the depths of your backpack just to be carelesslt dumped on your dresser. Preparation for when you’d bless Sohee for his basketball games, preparation you were disregarding now.

For a moment you’re silent. Sohee is too, letting you decide how he gets it tonight. He won’t complain unless you want him too, he won’t beg unless he sees that glimmer in your eyes that eggs him on. Your hips slowly drag forward, and his eyes instantly screw shut. He can feel your slick coat him, and the wet sound causes Sohee’s dick to twitch.

“I’ll warm you up.” You say.

Sohee’s hips lift to follow yours when you raise them off his lap. His dick twitches upwards right into your soft hand. 

“Baby.” Your hand dragged the tip of his dick over your folds. He could feel how wet you were on his sensitive skin, causing his hand to dig deeper into your side. Sohee looked up from where you had your hand wrapped around him to the smile on your face. “You ready?” You purred.

Sohee can no longer speak. His mouth is too dry and his brain is too jumbled to form a coherent thought. He only nods slowly and grips your waist tighter, your skin peeking through the gaps of his fingers as you nod back to him. There's a stillness, where you are moving your body slightly forward to be directly above him. Then, holding intense eye contact, you slowly start sinking your hips down. Sohee can feel your walls wearing on his tip first, tight and constricting before you two let out twin sighs. Then, when you adjust yourself on your knees and place a hand over his you loosen up. The rest of Sohee's dick slips inside of you with ease, and when he is completely inside of you he can feel your walls close around him snug. Being inside of you is the same as a weight getting lifted off his chest, so soothing but titillating it causes him to let out another sigh of relief and cinch his eyebrows together. 

For a split second he lets go of you completely, all of his strength is focused in not embarrassing himself right there on the messy floor of your dorm. He rests his hand in a balled up fist over his thudding heart, eyes still screwed shut as he feels and hears you sink down lower. Your sigh was prolonged and ended with a cry when your hips meld with his. Sohee opens his eyes when he feels your hips grind, he watches you selfishly chase stimulation while he gets used to the raw feeling inside of you. He dares to look down where the two of you meet, and almost instantly the dizzying feeling is back.

“Keep going.” Sohee says in a daze.

You nod your head as you raise your hips again. The second time you sink down is louder than the first, and you lean forward to put your hands on Sohee’s chest to stabilize yourself. Your socks rub on the sides of Sohee’s thighs as you slowly find your rhythm, alternating between bouncing and grinding on his dick. 

After finding a rhythm you get lost in the speed. Sohee watches the momentum you have on your chest and your desperate attempt to keep them in place. When your arm spread across your chest fails to do the trick, Sohee finds himself regaining his sanity to come to your aid. Almost instantly his hand takes your place, holding a handful of your chest in each of his palms. He almost uses the hold to guide you up and down, following your body with each flick of your hip and each bounce.

“So soft.” Sohee says.

“Can you suck on them?” You ask.

With your hands moving to his shoulders and guiding him up it’s easy. Sohees’ core muscles are no longer sore from months of practice when he closes the distance between your chest and his mouth. Your nipple lays on his tongue perfectly, and the arch in your back is made just for his hands as you preen into his mouth.

“Feels good.” You sigh.

He can’t stop his dick from pathetically throbbing inside of you when the praise falls from your lips. He can’t stop himself from sucking harder when he feels your hand go to the top of his head to rub his scalp. Sohee knows that you’re far away from ever calling him your good boy, he’s knew you for the better half of a year before you let him see your inclination for disarray. But he hopes that fucking you raw on the floor of your messy room is helping bridge the gap. Maybe by the end of next season he could get you to say one of the things you so clearly wanted to say during sex. Maybe your room was always so dirty to compensate for the absolute filth you kept suppressed in the depths of your mind.

But that was all just speculation. What Sohee knew for certain was that when you slightly pulled at his hair was when you wanted him to switch sides. So he unlatched from one side of your chest with a soft wet sound to move to the other. He still gave the other side attention, rolling the wet bud between his thumb and index finger. Sohee felt himself lose his bearings when you continued to ride him. With your hands braced on his shoulders he bent forward to follow you, and when you clamped around him his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple. You seized around him again and your hand in his hair pulled at his roots. For a second the sudden pain almost made Sohee’s teeth latch onto you harder, but with his last shred of common sense he detached from your chest entirely. The sound he made the second time was alot less quiet, a lewd sound mixed with your moans and the slick sound of your cunt riding his dick.

He got the courage to look down at where you two met again, with one hand keeping himself propped up Sohee watched you take him again and again.

“My God.” He didn’t hide his amazement. His jaw was slack as you rode him with a vigor he has never seen before. “Keep going, baby. Just like that.” He said quietly.

Sohee watched you pull one of your hands that was shoulder move forward. Before you got the chance to rub tight circles on your clit Sohee reached first, bumping your hand out of his way in the process. Your heavy lidded eyes perked in amusement, right before they screwed shut from Sohee’s ministrations.

“I thought you were going to make me do all the work.” You whined.

The teasing edge to your voice was all the way gone as Sohee continued working his fingers. You missed him shaking his head, you missed him biting his bottom lip in concentration. 

You didn’t open your eyes until Sohee started flicking his hip upwards to meet your dropping hips. He was almost compelled to look away from how intensely you were staring at him. Despite being laid bare he felt naked underneath your gaze, like you stripped him of everything. Sohee suddenly had no other purpose besides fucking you, moving his fingers in a tight circle, and keeping his eyes on you. You abandoned your job of bouncing on him, instead only grinding on his dick and clutching his legs even tighter. 

“Close.” You moaned.

Sohee nodded and told himself a million times to not speed up his fingers. He kept the same pace despite wanting to bring you to the edge as fast as possible. He kept his eyes on you and your body, looking for the signs in your hips that were becoming more erratic and your fingernails that were digging into his skin. In your pursuit of pleasure your guard fell all the way down. You were naked for him too, your hopeless pout and unbounded sounds were winding him up beyond his control.

“I’m close too.” Sohee said quickly.

His fingers didn’t stop and neither did your hips. His mind went to the condoms on your dresser but your eyes stayed on him, big and glossy as his words registered. You licked your bitten lips, opened your mouth just to shut it and then opened it again.

"Inside. Please.” You said.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

Just the invitation made Sohee ready to burst. He spoke fast and in a haste, wanting to give himself enough time to lift you off of his dick in case you changed your mind. But your hips showed no signs of stopping and you lazily pitched your body forward to press your lips to his.

Sohee only felt a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth and his cupid’s bow before you cursed against his lips. He felt your hips freeze and your walls clench around him. He was no match for the sudden flood of wetness from your cunt and the hot pants of air in his open mouth. He felt himself spill inside of you less than a second later. His hands left your clit and inside wrapped around your waist, bringing your chest to his as his back went to the ground.

Both of you desperately rode out your highs chest to chest while Sohee’s back was to the floor. He felt garments of clothing underneath his back as he rutted into you, and your hand reached forward to grab onto the wooden frame of your bed. 

The time it took you two to ground yourselves was embarrassingly long. Your chests were practically glued together from sweat by the time your breath evened, and it happened all over again when you weakly lifted yourself off of Sohee’s dick. His shaking hand on your waist guided you to the ground next to him, and for a minute you two laid together in the mess Sohee was lucky enough to be invited into.

Both of you stared at the same place on the ceiling before Sohee turned to face you.

“You’re gonna be at the game tomorrow, right?” Sohee asks.

“Sohee, I am the trainer. I have to be there.” You answer.

Sohee watches you pull a new sweater back over your head, covering up your bare chest. The sweater has his basketball teams name, it’s the one he gifted you that has his number and name on the back. He can’t hide his smile as you lay back down next to him on the floor.

“Would you still go?” Sohee looks at your fallen pens and notebooks on the floor. “Even if you didn’t have to be there?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. Sohee looks at the messy pile of clothes that fell from your chair at some point, the untidy stack of books that rest on your dresser. He doesn’t want to leave. He’s too comfortable here, too happy staring at you carefully think of an answer to his question that wouldn’t let him know what you’re thinking.

“I’d still go.” You uselessly kick towards some of your clean clothes that fell from your chair at some point. After you get a sock successfully back on the chair you turn to face him. “I’m your good luck charm. I think you’d lose without me.” You say.

Sohee will take it. He will gladly take him being the one and only person in your life that you bring good luck to. That is something akin to more than friends with benefits, or maybe it’s the purest form of whatever this arrangement is. Whatever the case may be it brings Sohee enough peace to sleep soundly, and he feels like he has enough luck to win the game all by himself. He leans forward to kiss you and you don’t turn away. You let the kiss be planted right on the tip of your nose before he faces the ceiling again, and Sohee ends up having to hide his smile behind his hands the same way you hide it by clearing your throat.

“Maybe if we win.” He goes to his tiptoes before going back to the balls of his feet. “Maybe if we win we could go out somewhere. Like watch a movie or something.” He says.

Instantly you shake your head, reaching to the side to playfully smack his shoulder. Sohee fakes like you hit him roughly, taking a step backwards with a faux pained expression on his face.

“Even if you lose. Which I doubt will happen.” You take a deep breath and turn your head away. “I’ll think about it.” You say quietly.

There is absolutely no way he’s losing his game tomorrow. 

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

[margoshamangolord]

A BIG POST WHY TFA SENTINEL IS A GOOD CHARACTER WHILE STILL BEING A FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT

lots of thoughts under cut

I hated him like any tfa viewer is expected to, and i still do, because he's wrong oftenly and very fucking immature about his own actions, but it's just that fandom treats him like a simple flat cardboard designed for nagging the main characters, while he's not. Even people usually fond of discussing character depth just go "ew" at him, but i want to prove that he's not worse than even ratchet or bumblebee in terms of writing. His actions have depths, reasons and explanations. I do not want to excuse him in points where he actually fucked up, but i do want to remind that he's a character with a history and insecurities like others in tfa

I want to start off with the fact that while the hate he has inside the fandom is not really interesting, it is easily expected. He acts like a piece of shit and has a lot of negative traits (for example you have his attitude towards organics, and while you could kinda write it into being a reaction to Elita's 'death', it wouldn't be really valid, since Optimus was there too, he saw the same things as him, but he has no disgust towards humans)

The first thing i want to show would be this screenshot from the allspark almanac. It actually broke me when i saw it and prompted to write this because it brilliantly explains his whole character drama.

He feels guilty. He actually knows and admits he made a mistake and he is weighed down by it. He is fully and painfully aware of his stupidity in the situation.

But is he going to admit it? Is he going to apologise? Of course he's not. He cannot carry the weight of his guilt, but he cannot apologise and let himself be weak. So he made a vow.

He presses Optimus down and puts that weight on him because it's easier for him to stand straight reassuring himself that he's not at fault at all here. He feels that if he says sorry, then he'll be guilty forever and will never let go if he acknowledges it. He is guilty and he knows it, but he's immature and he does not want to think about it at all. He distracts himself with the rules and regulations.

"I did it, i fucked up trying to be something greater than i should, breaking rules. I'm never gonna wash it off, I'm guilty, but i must be better. If I don't make any more attempts at throwing over the rules, if I hold down others from doing so, i will be better, right?"

Rules are safety and comfort for him. Breaking rules and trying to be special is something he associates with Elita's death, and his thought process basically is "no rule breaking=no tragic accidents to be responsible for". He's confident that if he does everything by protocol, how he's told, then there will be no situation he would have to be blamed in. Of course he takes it to an extent. You oftenly see him obsessing over rules and regulations more oftenly than others — and now that makes sense.

The second thing would be his profile and Optimus's words about him. This text doesn't really serve us much important information, just a simple outside opinion on how he acts, except the first phrase.

"Sentinel means well, he really does."

As bizzare as it sounds, even Optimus, who he has a very sour relationship with, understands this. Sentinel actually means well — but it's just his experience and perception that really distort what comes out in the end. His "well" is very different from others' "well", but he definitely does not actually mean intentional harm in most occasions.

An unconcious goal that he most likely has is "do not let the elita incident happen again". It actually explains why he's trying to press down Optimus's ambitions and yells at young autobots about the importance of listening to the code. He may see himself in others.

Last is miscellaneous details. He actually covered Optimus and Elita when they were retreating — wouldn't do this if he was as selfish as creators want us to believe. He says he made a mistake in the almanac (when he was kinda being interviewed, he told the truth). Wouldn't really do that too. Most times he's been a dick to Optimus and his crew were him simply not believing immediate information without proof like he believes is the right way, like he's supposed to, and from his perspective he was genuinely sure he's doing the right thing

Conclusion

I would still slap him if i met him. But it doesn't mean that he should be rushed and avoided during discussion of character flaws and I'm tired of him just getting flatted down by the fandom as "mean and stupid do not touch". I want him to be taken seriously, and tbh finding out that he actually feels bad about archa seven is all it takes to be suddenly enlightened about the inner workings of his brain, because it connects all the dots.

And i would give all my money to see him canonically get a better development and more focus in the show. I would love if he accepted his wrongs, and if he had a genuinely honest conversation with Optimus. I really would.

[spicyspiders]

old man logan part 6

1.4k words

There's no smut in this, but it's really fluffy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

“Hey,” you said, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear, “what’d you need me to get again?” You questioned, placing the basket onto the floor. It was Logan’s turn to make dinner tonight, and he wanted to pair the pasta you had just placed into the basket with some type of fancy sauce you couldn’t remember the name of. 

“Want me to just text you the name?” He asked. 

Your brows lowered in confusion as you looked over the shelfs of sauce jars, hoping maybe one of them would jog your memory, “you said you hated texting.”

”This is important,” Logan answered, making you roll your eyes, “it has to be-”

”Found it! It’s the one with the old man on it, right?”

”Yes. And you got the rig-”

”The rigatoni,” you said with another roll of your eyes, “yes,” you said as you grabbed one of the jars, “hey, he kinda looks like you,” you observed, giggling after hearing the sound of Logan’s huff on the other end of the phone. 

“I don’t look like the guy on the sauce jar,” he grumbled. 

“I’d send you a picture, but it probably wouldn’t show that well on your dinosaur phone,” you said as you moved from the aisle to the next.

”I like my phone,” Logan said, sounding mildly offended. 

“You told me you hated texting because your fingers are too big for the buttons,” you replied, deadpan, “we could get you a bigger phone that isn’t a flip phone. They actually have some really fancy touch screen ones now,” you said as you grabbed the bottle of spices Logan said early paired well with the sauce. 

“Maybe I could upgrade to a different brand,” Logan responded, a smile in his words, “and then I could buy one of the holsters you like,” he teased. 

You cringed just thinking of the sight, “fine, you win. I’ve got to get a few more things, then I’ll be on my way.”

”Drive safe,” Logan responded, his voice full of seriousness. 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you said with a breathy laugh, “love you, bye,” you said ending the phone call as you stepped into another aisle. 

It wasn’t until you were checking out that your brain caught up to what you had said, “shit,” you said, startling the cashier. 

“Everything alright, sir?” She asked, a worried look in her eyes, “did you forget something?”

”No! No I- um,” your mind went blank, not even knowing how to begin to explain what had happened earlier. But actually, this poor cashier didn’t deserve to be subjugated to your blabbering mouth. You didn’t know how long it would take to even explain that you meant what you said to Logan, but you didn't want it to come out in such an unserious way. 

“Just remembered something I need to do later,” you said as you fished your wallet out from your pocket. 

——

All throughout dinner, you couldn’t focus on anything other than how you had ended the phone call earlier. You weren’t even able to focus on the delicious meal Logan made, the man being able to tell from the worried looks you could feel as you kept your eyes on your plate. 

“Was it not good?” Logan asked after setting his fork down onto his empty plate. 

“No!” Your head shooting up, “No, I mean it was great, not no, I didn’t like it,” you said quickly, hoping as you stood up and grabbed your dirty dishes that cleaning them would help you calm down. “It was great,” you said into the sink as you turned the hot water on. 

“If you say so,” Logan replied, like he wasn’t convinced. 

“Go relax, I’ve got this,” you said as Logan grabbed the sponge. 

“You wash and I’ll dry,” Logan responded, his hip brushing yours when he walked up beside you. 

Washing dishes was a quiet affair, which gave your brain the perfect opportunity to overanalyze. It made you nervous how Logan was being, save for the soft thank yous he said when you handed him a wet, clean dish. 

You hoped Logan hadn’t noticed the way your hands shook each time you handed him another dish, but if he asked, you could just blame it on the weight of the pot Logan used to cook the pasta in. 

“Your sink isn’t big enough for this,” you grumbled, trying to pour out the soapy water without getting it all over the counter. 

“It feels like you’ve been bitching all day today,” Logan observed as you passed him the pot, “first my phone, now my sink.”

”I’m trying not to get water everywhere,” you said as you cleaned the lid that went with the pot, “unless you want me to get it all over your counter,” you said, almost tipping the water over, but not before Logan grabbed your wrist. 

“You do this and I’ll bend you over this counter,” Logan said, “move,” he said, pushing the damp cloth into your chest before he manhandled you into the spot he was. 

“I wasn’t actually going to do it,” you groused, snatching the clean dish Logan gave you. 

You turned your neck to the side to hide your smile after seeing Logan’s glare. A few moments later, you felt Logan’s hip brush yours again as you heard his soft chuckle. Your mind, at least for a little while, was finally at ease. 

——

Though it freaked you out that Logan hadn’t said anything about it, you felt another wave of affection in seeing Logan in bed. He looked comfortable and warm, a sight that you were grateful Logan let you see. He lounged under the covers, sat up against the headboard, a book in one hand, and his glasses perched upon his nose. 

“What’re you reading?” You asked as you closed the bathroom door. You made your way through the dim bedroom, illuminated by the lamp beside Logan, to get in bed next to him.

“It’s about the first world war,” Logan said, not looking up from the page he was reading. 

“Was that the one you were in?” You asked, a smile stretched across your lips. A laugh burst forward when Logan glanced your way with an unimpressed look. Maybe it was from exhaustion from the full day you had, or the inner turmoil in your brain and going over what you said to Logan, but the look he gave made you burst out into laughter. 

Your body shook as you laid down onto his shoulder, trying to muffle the sound into the soft cotton tank top he wore. When Logan responded, you could hear the smile in his voice, “because I’m so old, right?”

You didn’t respond and instead sat up to grab the remote on the bedside table that was on your side, “you mind if I watch a little tv?” You asked once your laughter had died down. 

“Just not too loud,” Logan murmured, glancing up to look at you over the top of his glasses, making you smile once more, “what?” he questioned. 

You weren’t going to let yourself laugh again and instead settled yourself back down, your body curled towards Logan. You felt his hand brush your thigh under the covers as you turned the tv on, making sure to immediately make sure the volume was low. 

“Fuckin’ commercials,” you groaned. 

“Be patient,” Logan said humorously as he squeezed your thigh with a broad palm, “you could stand to read a book instead of watching that.”

”Once I graduate next semester, I’m never reading another book again,” not tearing your eyes away from the screen. 

It didn’t take long for your eyes to begin to droop, and you gasped awake when the remote fell from your hand, “I’ve got it,” Logan said softly as he clicked the tv off. 

He placed his book down on the table, followed by the remote, and then finally his glasses. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before leaning back over to turn the lamp off, the room falling into darkness. 

Tiredly, you rolled onto your side, away from Logan, only having to wait a few seconds before his arms were wrapped around you. 

“I do love you too, you know,” Logan said softly as his lips brushed the back of your neck.      

“Yeah?” You asked into the darkness, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Wanted to tell you earlier,” Logan said, one of his hands, sneaking under your shift, “but didn’t want to say it with my mouth full of pasta,” he said, hiding his smile in the back of your neck.

”I wouldn't  have minded,” you said, placing your hand on top of Logan’s through the shirt. 

“Cause you love me?” He asked, rolling you over onto your back, his body hovering over yours. 

Wordlessly, you pulled Logan down into a kiss, suddenly not feeling tired. 

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 14

Here we are again at the end. I'm sad to see this one go. It was a real challenge to see if I could write heavier smut and the answer is "eh, so-so". There should have been more nudity and sex in this thing than there was, but after the fight with Tumblr over the stripper tag I just gave up trying to even tag things properly anymore. Because of the fucking purity police.

But this gets racy. As racy as I get.

So thanks for one hell of a ride!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

Steve flopped on their sofa with a whine. “Robin... dancing with him just the two of us is going to kill me. I just know it.”

Robin looked over at him from the kitchen with an impressed eyebrow. “You know who to blame.”

“Chrissy,” they said together.

“If she had been dating you,” Steve huffed, laying lengthwise on the sofa and putting his right arm behind his head, “this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey!” she protested. “There is no way that that literal goddess is ever going to date a peon like me.”

Steve lobbed a pillow straight at her head. “Only one of us gets to mope at a time, and it’s my turn. Plus you aren’t a pee-on or whatever it was you called yourself. I bet she thinks you’re hot.”

Robin came over with the two bowls of stew she had reheated and handed one to Steve, who promptly sat up straight so she had a place to sit.

“There is no fucking way,” she huffed around a bite of carrot. “Did you see the way she danced with the new Wrath? Micaela has all the right moves, who would want me when they could have that?”

Micaela looked like a Greek statue come to life. She perfect olive toned skin, deep brown eyes and the perfect pout to her lips. She was also married to a guy named Paul, who did construction for a living and didn’t care about the stripping as long as it made her happy.

“I’m pretty sure Paul would take issue with that,” he huffed. “Besides, I’ll make a bet. I’ll ask her tomorrow if she thinks you’re hot and when I win, you have to do laundry for the next month.”

Robin shrieked in outrage. “There is no way, Mr. Clothes Horse that I am going to wash that many clothes for a month.”

“Oh so you agree,” Steve said batting his eyelashes, “that you know she thinks you’re hot?”

She began sputtering and squawking, finally she settled down with her stew and very mumbled, “Curses foiled again.”

Steve kissed her cheek and turned on “Unsolved Mysteries”.

“This show was creepier in the eighties,” she huffed. “Now most of the time it’s just supernatural shit. Robert Stack would appalled.”

Steve waved her off, “Shush! I want to hear about the Chicago Moth Man.”

~

Steve bounded up to Chrissy the next day, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey-ya, hot stuff!”

Chrissy threw her head back and laughed. “What’s happening, yourself, you goober?”

“So...” he began, rocking back on his heels and then back on his toes, “so I have this bet with Robin. If I win she has to do the laundry for a month and if she wins, I have to tell Eddie I like him.”

“Oohh,” Chrissy said, rubbing her hands together, “I almost want to see you lose so you have to tell him. What’s the bet?”

“That you don’t think she’s hot. I said you do, she thinks you don’t.”

Steve smirked as he saw the complete indecision warring on her face. “Damn it.” She stomped one foot dramatically. “That’s really not fair, Steve...”

His grin widened and he knew he had won. “I’ll tell you what, you let me win the bet and I’ll have you help choreograph a dance that will knock all of Eddie’s clothes right off.”

“Tell Robin that not only do I think she’s hot,” Chrissy said returning his grin, “but also tell her to be ready next Tuesday at seven, because I’m taking her out on a date.”

Steve gave her a fist bump and walked away, back to where a very anxious Robin stood, twisting a cloth napkin to death.

“I win,” he said smugly, “and you have a date on Tuesday at seven. Dress nice, but not fancy.”

Robin sputtered and stammered. “I would have thought at the very least she would have gone my way if for the very reason one of you to boneheads needs to say something because even long time regulars are starting to notice the friction between the two of you will light this place on fire.”

“Oh I totally bribed her,” Steve said, smirk never faltering for a moment, “I told her she could help choreograph a dance to actually seduce Eddie.”

“You are so smug,” she said through gritted teeth, pinching his cheek. “I don’t have anything to wear, you know this right?”

Steve waved her off, smacking her hand away. “Go on a shopping trip, it’s not like you’re broke. Hell, we’ll go tomorrow before work. Make you the prettiest butch lesbian there ever was.” He patted her cheek firmly. “Now, I’m going to go shake my ass.”

He walked off as Chrissy walked up to her. “Hey, gorgeous,” she purred, “I’m assuming Steve told you about our date?”

Robin nodded, eyes wide. “I didn’t know you thought that about me.”

Chrissy leaned over the counter, putting her boobs on display. She played with one of Robin’s many necklaces. “I thought that when you got hired, sweetie. This is just me finally taking the plunge.”

She licked her lips slowly as Robin’s cheeks turned bright red, causing her freckles to really stand out.

“Oh.”

Chrissy chuckled. “Such a pretty little thing. I think you have me a disadvantage, Robin.”

“How’s that?” Robin asked, amazed it didn’t come out as complete gibberish. Her cheeks were flushed and she couldn’t even see straight, every fiber of her being was focused on that single point of contact where Chrissy had a hold of her necklace.

“You’ve seen me naked and covered in chocolate sauce,” Chrissy purred, “and I was curious to see if that was on offer.”

How Robin didn’t immediately devolve into a complete buffoon, she had no idea. “Never on the first date.” She almost squeaked when she realized the words that had just come out of her mouth. That’s it. This wasn’t Hellfire Club, this was Heaven. She had died. Clearly.

“Duly noted,” Chrissy said, straightening up. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

Robin nodded and Chrissy waved goodbye over her shoulder. Joe who was the head waiter and her boss patted her on the shoulder.

“Don’t take it too personally,” he said with a huff of laughter. “I’ve seen lesser lesbians turn into gibbering hound dogs when she does that. She’s just a softy, really, she just also loves to blue screen the hell out of potential dates.”

Robin turned to him. “Why is that?”

“Because she wants to set the expectation that she is a stripper,” Joe said with a shrug. “She’s good at her job and she isn’t going to quit for anyone. So if she goes super sexual out of the gate and the person doesn’t mind it, then she knows it’s a safe bet.”

“Oh.”

That made more sense than it didn’t. But now she had figure out how to date the hottest woman Robin had ever met. No pressure.

Right?

~

To say Steve was nervous would be an understatement. He was about to turn an already sexually charged dance between him and Eddie and turn the dial all the up to eleven. He’s not even sure if it could be called “simulated” sex, when they were both going to get naked for a crowd, but it was definitely going to be something.

He had been slowly ramping up the tension between him and Eddie with each week and it was the last Saturday of the month and he was about to blow something. Eddie’s mind or his fucking job.

He really, really hoped it wasn’t his job.

They did their trio dance and Lilith slunk off stage, leaving behind Lucifer and Samael. The looks they were giving each other could have set that stage on fire. Steve was already most of the way red and his wings were tattered. It would not take much for Samael to fall. And fall tonight, he most certainly would.

Steve started out slow. He wanted to make Eddie come to him. He ran his hands all up and down his chest. One hand went up to his throat while the other dipped to press the heel of hand against his aching erection.

The moaned he released was not faked.

Both hands touched his cheeks and then dug into his hair, his hips thrusting out. The audience was hooked but the person he wanted was Eddie.

Lucifer watched with hooded eyes as Steve made love to himself. Then the water fell on Steve’s head and he ripped off his top. The wings were skeletal now, the last bit of feathers having been washed away with all the white.

He was standing there in red boots and g-string, head back and chest out.

The growl from Eddie was primal and Steve wasn’t sure if it was Lucifer or Eddie who made the sound.

But it didn’t matter, it did the job.

Eddie stalked across the stage and pulled their bodies flush together. He lifted one of Steve’s legs up and unzipped the boot, gently pulling it off. That leg went tightly around Eddie’s waist and he did the same with the other leg.

Soon Steve was only wearing the g-string, completely wrapped around Eddie, who was still fully dressed.

With his hand firmly on Steve’s back, Steve lowered himself backwards, arching his back, like those Renaissance painting of fallen angels and deposed saints.

With his free hand Eddie ripped off the harness with the wings tossing them aside to be picked up by one of the other dancers. Then that hand slid over Steve’s chest, down to the front of Steve’s thong and ripped that off as well.

The gasp from the audience and then the roar when Eddie tossed at them was loud.

Not that Steve could hear them over the rush of blood to his head. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely due to hanging upside down or the fact that the only thing that separated him from Eddie was the leather pants he wore as Pride.

Steve wrapped both arms around Eddie’s neck and began to grind against him.

Eddie forcibly set him down and pushed him away.

Steve had nothing to worry about because he knew this was part of the dance and turned toward the patrons.

He danced, reveling in his now naked form, showing off and simpering to the crowd. Then he’s yanked back, into Eddie’s arms.

He smirked and pushed Eddie away, turning back to the crowd. Eddie yanked on his arm again but instead of pulling him close, he pushed him to ground.

Steve stared up at him, propped up on his elbows as he scooted away from Eddie, toward the edge of the stage.

Eddie pulled on his tear away leather pants, leaving him only in the black combat boots he wore.

He stood, straddled over Steve and then knelt on one knee, running his hands over Steve’s torso and then pushed him all the way to ground.

Steve’s arms came up and his hands roamed over Eddie’s legs and ass. Eddie’s other knee hit the stage with a loud thump, causing the audience to jump. They were that enthralled with what was going on on stage.

Eddie slithered down Steve’s body and they both moaned together.

Steve was no longer sure where his body ended and Eddie’s started. It was like they were one.

Eddie stood up and as he straightened, he flipped Steve so he was on his stomach. He knelt back over Steve’s prone body and lifted his head by his hair. Steve knew to rise with it so it didn’t actually hurt, but fuck it was sexy as hell.

And the crowd thought so too.

Steve rose on his arms, stretching his back, like a mermaid pose, head back. Then he went straight down again slapping the stage to make it sound harder than it was.

He rolled over and looked up at Eddie. Eddie beckoned him to him and Steve followed, hypnotized. Entranced.

They danced together, their bodies moving as one.

Then with the dying beats of the song, Eddie dipped Steve, kissing him firmly on the mouth.

The audience went...well wild was too tame a word. Feral. They went absolutely feral.

Someone handed them garters for them put on and get money stuffed into. Once all the money that was stuffed the garters and thrown on the stage was gathered up, Steve and Eddie stumbled into Eddie’s office/dressing room.

Mouths and hands everywhere as they tried to touch as much as possible. As they were already naked or mostly there all it took was a quick tumble onto the sofa and they were really going at it.

“Baby,” Eddie huffed. “I was so hard, I almost came twice.”

Steve moaned underneath him. “Only twice? God if I didn’t have an ex-boyfriend who liked edging me I would’ve come several times.”

Eddie propped himself up on his elbows to look Steve in the eye. “We going to unpack that later when we are both sane again, but for right now I need to see you come!”

“Deal!” Steve cried as Eddie ground down.

The sex was short and explosive, as they had been turned on pretty much from the get go.

Eddie collapsed against Steve’s cum covered chest causing him to let out a pained huff.

“Where the fuck did you learn to dance like that?” Eddie complained. “Have you been holding back on me?”

Steve chuckled. “I had Chrissy help choreograph that in exchange for getting her a date with Robin.”

“That sneaky little minx,” he said with a fond shake of his head. “She is in so much trouble for that.”

“Hey,” Steve protested. “It worked didn’t it?”

There was silence for a beat.

“It did work, right?” he asked shyly.

Eddie raised his head to look him in the eye. “I guess that depends on your end game, if I’m honest.”

“I’m in love with you, Eddie,” Steve said his voice shaking just a little with the raw emotion of it all. “I want to take you dates, I want to wake up next to you, I want to know how you take your eggs so I can make you breakfast in bed. I want it all, with you.”

Eddie sat up and pulled Steve with him. “I want that too. I’m love with you, too. I’ve always been attracted to you. You’ve been nothing but kind to Chrissy, you defended my club against Nancy and Jason, you made it possible for me to really turn this club into something really special. It was good before you came, but you made it great. Of course I want to be your boyfriend, Stevie. I’d be upset if you didn’t want that, too.”

Steve surged forward and kissed him firmly on the lips. “Okay.”

Steve really didn’t feel like walking through the throng of people waiting to get paid, so Eddie loaned him some clothes.

When Eddie opened the door everyone cheered.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Just remember I’m still your boss. Speaking of which, let’s get you people paid.”

Jeff and Chrissy came forward the locked box and the tip jar. Eddie counted the money, but instead of Steve on the other side of the desk like he used to do, Steve sat on the corner of the desk watching Eddie work.

After everyone had gotten paid they all shuffled out except Robin, Chrissy, and Jeff.

“Nice to see you two finally worked it out,” Jeff said with a huff of laughter. “I was about to embarrass the hell out of Eddie if something didn’t change by tonight.”

Eddie shuddered. “Glitter and stickers. So many stickers.”

Jeff grinned broadly.

Robin handed Steve a bag. “This has all your stuff in it, like your clothes, wallet, cell phone, and keys. I don’t want to see you home until sometime tomorrow.” She cocked her head to the side. “Mainly because I’m making out with my girlfriend tonight and really don’t want you there.”

She winked at him and then grabbed Chrissy’s wrist and hauled her out of there. Chrissy squawked and wave goodbye, yelling her congratulations over her shoulder as she was dragged along.

“And that’s me out of here, too,” Jeff said jutting his thumb at the retreating pair. “I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

Once everyone was gone, Steve smiled down at Eddie.

“Tomorrow,” he said wistfully. “I like the sound of that.”

“I like the sound of an infinity of tomorrows,” Eddie replied.

“Me too.”

They kissed again and walked out to their cars. Steve followed Eddie to his apartment, and just like in the rest of Eddie’s life, just never really left.

Soon he was spending most of his time over there, sometimes for sex, but mostly just being himself.

One Tuesday night when they were curled up on the sofa, Eddie asked him to move in for real.

“I’d really like that,” he murmured against Eddie’s lips.

Steve thought back to that fateful day when Robin came home from getting the job at the club, telling him that a dancer position just opened up and they were desperate. He hadn’t really stripped in a long time, the stripper-cize classes excluded. Those really weren’t the same thing as actually stripping.

But money was running out and he was out of options. So he auditioned using that silly song, hoping to stand out just enough to get the job.

And it instead changed his life.

“I love you, my little devil,” Steve purred.

Eddie’s returning smile was blinding. “And I love you too, angel.”

They kissed happily in their ever after.

~

Tag List: STORY COMPLETE!

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup @micheledawn1975

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @garden-of-gay

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @novelnovella

[kastighur]

← back. ᝰ.ᐟ don’t hate me.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 homicipher. mr. scarletella. fluff. angst if you squint. gn! reader // wc : 957

you were sent to another world by the man with the umbrella, coated in red with a glow that followed him around everywhere. mr. scarletella was the name you had given him.

his delusions lead him to believe that you were giving him gifts, though you were only trying to dispose of bodies in an abandoned building. well, who could blame the man ? if someone was delivering the equivalent of a packed lunch everyday, you’d surely assume that they’d have some motivation.

“ you teach name ? “

mr. scarletella asked, leaning down all the way to meet your eye. the umbrella tilted which shielded you from the non-existent rain, casting that eerie red glow surrounding you both.

clutching your bloodied crowbar in hand, you stood your ground with an unwavering glare but there was no use in hitting him drawing from prior experiences.

“ dislike communicate ? “

he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. his wide eyes never leaving yours. he wondered why you kept silent, he had seen you around others like mr. crawling, you were much more relaxed. even laughed and spoke with the other entity.

what else could..- oh !

an idea popped in his mind.

mr. scarletella reached his hand out, his cold palm plopping itself on your head, up down up down. he had seen this action being exchanged between mr. crawling and you.

“ pet, pet. “

however, you immediately lifted your crowbar, swinging it at him with full force, just to watch as his body glitched out once again. the man now stood at his full height just a step or two in front of you, the hand on your head now by his side.

mr. scarletella seethed with rage, he didn’t take rejection well, but he would never hurt you and instead disappeared.

that was a few days ago, mr. scarletella continued to stalk you from afar as usual though he stopped using the telephone to call, halting his usual random appearances.

mr. scarletella roamed the halls in one of the rare moments which wasn’t spent stalking. unbeknownst to you, he was upset. he didn’t know he was hurting from rejection, he just knew that this painful feeling burning in his chest was foreign and unpleasant. it felt worse knowing the reason behind it stemmed from the human that he was so drawn towards.

he stumbled aimlessly into the room with bits of concrete on the ground caused from earthquakes which moved rooms around. he scanned the ruins, spotting things that were thrown from the world of humans. magazines, dirty shoes, broken cellphones... etc.

the only thing that wasn’t broken or covered in dust was something in a clear ziplock bag, mr. scarletella reached down to pick it up. it looked like a white paper bird..? an origami bird. white reminded him of you.

“ pretty doll... me give pretty human. “

he mumbled, ripping apart the ziplock bag and gently placing the delicate craft on his palm. it was fragile, swaying left and right as he walked, but it was something he needed to protect for you. he had never been so gentle with something before, even slowing his steps just to keep it from toppling, too afraid to touch it in case he ripped it.

luck was on his side, he found you alone without your crawling companion, being separated from him after one of your adventures.

mr. scarletella smiled but he hesitated to show himself to you. this was new. he doubted himself. the aching feeling in his heart returned when he remembered his previous interaction with you. would you reject him again…? did you really dislike him that much..?

“ human. “

he called out, softly. his voice trailing off to a whisper at the end.

he watched you whip around, the same glare in your eyes. though you noticed he was slightly different. his head was tilted down, he wasn’t standing straight, his shoulders were slightly hunched in an attempt to make himself look smaller in front of you.

slowly, he held his arm out, the white origami bird was directly in front of your face.

“ me find, me bring doll you. doll pretty, human pretty. “

they probably didn’t have a word for origami or paper or birds in their language, doll was probably the closest thing to that.

his smile returned when you cautiously reached out to take the gift, watching as you inspected it. the corners of his lips widening when your eyes softened, the tension surrounding you both slowly dissipating but still lingered.

“ you like ? “

your head snapped up towards him.

“ …like, thank you. “

mr. scarletella leaned down, lining his eyes up with yours. his hand reached out once again, hovering just above your hair.

before he could touch you, you stepped aside. clutching the crowbar in your other hand, which he noticed and acknowledged as a warning.

“ can pet ? “

mr. scarletella asked.

you hesitated, well… he did go out of his way to get you this origami bird. plus, as much as you hated to admit it, you did think about him during that period where he left you alone albeit in a negative way.

“ pet one. “

his palm came into contact with your hair, up and down, lingering there for a second before pulling away.

a noise came from the corner of hallway, making you whip around, just to see mr. crawling pop out. he rushed over, blabbering on how worried he was and asking if you were hurt.

you turned around but mr. scarletella was gone.

“ doll pretty ! “

mr. crawling pointed out, looking at the white origami bird on your palm.

“ where find ? “

“…someone give me. “

mr. scarletella watched from afar, smiling to himself, he made a mental note to give you more gifts in the future.

> maybe he’s slightly ooc.

© @kastighur

[junebloom-wp]

platform roulette

arthur hill x fem reader

summary: arthur comes home from filming platform roulette and you take care of him

navigation | main masterlist | masterlist

You laid on the sofa in your boyfriends apartment curled under the fluffy blanket that was always draped across the back. The sound of the TV droned through the dimly lit living room as you scrolled through your phone awaiting the boisterous return of your drunken boyfriend and flatmate.

George, Arthur and Arthur had gone to film another platform roulette, and on their way home Arthur bombarded you with multiple incoherent text and a few blurry facetimes.

A smile graced your face as you heard the clanging of keys trying to open the front door alongside Arthurs frustrated grumbles and Georges amused laughs.

You pushed yourself off the sofa bringing the blanket around your shoulders before pattering to the front door opening it for the boys, "And what time do you call this?" You teased, looking at the pair.

"He's absolutely battered." George laughed motioning to Arthur, who was leaning against the door frame looking down at you with hooded eyes and a dopey smile.

"I can tell," You smiled softly at your lightweight boyfriend, "You can go to bed if you want George. I can take care of him."

George nodded before looking back at his best friend letting out one more laugh before making a b-line to his room.

"What am I gonna do with you?" You tutted, wrapping your arm around Arthur's waist letting his drop his weight onto you as he flung his arm over your shoulder.

Arthur smiled down at you twirling the loose hair from your bun between his fingers as you both made your way to his room.

"I've missed you." Arthur mumbled, dropping to his bed with a huff, "What did you do today?"

You giggled softly watching as he struggled to pull his shoes off his feet, "I went for lunch with Becky and then did some work." You told him as you sat on the floor undoing his laces.

"That's really nice."

You hummed placing his shoes next to the bed before standing up in front of him cupping his face in your hands, "What did you do today, my love?"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders placing his hands on the back of your thighs pulling you to stand between his legs, "We did an escape room, and mini golf."

"And that got you this drunk doing that?"

"Blame George and Arthur."

You scrunched up your face in amusement nodding before leaning to peck his lips, "Lets get you in bed."

Arthur nodded pulling off his jacket and his shirt with slight struggle handing them to you one at a time as your popped them in the wash basket and grabbing pyjama bottoms from his draw.

"Thank you." He said in a barely audible tone, "I love you."

You smiled softly at him as you sat on the bed next to him running your hands through his hair before scratching the back of his neck gently and he let himself melt at your touch.

"I love you too."

Arthur moved to lay down opening his arms for you to join him, "You should do platform roulette next time we do one."

You let out a breathy chuckle laying your head on his chest, "But then who would be here to take care of when you come home?"

Arthur hummed tracing blind shapes onto the exposed skin of your hip, "Yeah, but I miss you when I'm gone all day." He pouted, and you nodded looking up at him, "It's agony being away from you."

"Okay, my little poet." You pecked his jaw, "Maybe one day I will."

Arthur squeezed your hip affectionately, "Promise?"

"Promise," You nodded, listening to the echoes of Arthur's beating heart beneath your ear, "Go to sleep."

"Okay." He mumbled, pulling you closer if that was even possible consider you were practically laying on top of him, "Goodnight."

Not even minutes has passed before soft snores started to fall from Arthur's slightly parted lips and his chest started to rise and fall rythmatically.

You laid awake twirling the soft curls at the base of his neck before letting the sleep you had been fighting off for hours take over you.

[petriwriting]

Bright Future Ahead - JJ Maybank X Reader

Based on THIS request.

Summary: Reader tells JJ they are pregnant.

A/N Did not proofread, wrote this at the gym lol

“C’mon baby girl,” JJ says, the little girls footsteps thud on the floor as she toddler-waddles over to JJ, whose across the hall.

John B and Sarah had a few errands to run, so you and JJ had offered to watch over their sweet daughter Ella Rouledge while they did so. She was so sweet, an Angel with little curls and eyes like her fathers. She was bold and adventurous, taking after both of her parents in that regard. One thing she particularly liked was playing dress up with JJ. Her god father was her idol, she wanted to be just like him, even mimicking his mannerisms from a young age, it was so heart warming to see. You couldn’t wait to have your own child.

Over the last 5 years, the Pogues had given up on treasure hunting, and everyone was settled into a comfortable and safe life. You and JJ had been through everything together, and you loved him more than anyone could imagine and in return you were his whole world. You had gotten engaged shortly after Morocco, JJ had said he didn’t want to waste anymore time because he knew you were the one, and in case they were swept on another crazy adventure he wanted you to be his, officially. You’d taken his last name and had a backyard ceremony with the group with string lights and beer, and a pastor certificate pope and Cleo found online it was in fact legally binding. Since then, JJ had put a lot of his energy into his business, JJ Maybanks deep sea charters, a huge success, now with a second location opening on the other side of the island. Everyone was making enough money to live comfortably, however in Pogue fashion they certainly did not live like kooks. John B and Sarah were fully invested in their family, Cleo and Pope were doing well too, as pope was finishing his degree. All was well for those 5 years, the good and the bad. You were thankful that JJ stuck with you through it all. He had grown into himself, and matured a lot after the incident with his father. He had healed significantly. You were thankful to have seen it all. Reminiscing on the past had only further directed your mind to your future ahead of you…

“Can I brush your hair?” The little girl squeals excitedly, her mother had her hair in braids with bows and they wiggled as she moved excitedly across the playroom. “Sure kiddo, anything.” JJ chuckled and sat down on the floor while the girl brought out her play makeup and hair accessories. You approached the room, and stood in the doorway. “Whose hungry for lunch?” You say with a smile. “Me me!!!” The girl yells excitedly. “Me too,” JJ chuckles. “Well, I’m thinking tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches?” You offered. “Sounds delicious!” JJ exclaimed, looking at himself in the fake mirror.

“Are you sure about this one?” He asks, playing along with the girls banter. She was desolately trying to reach JJs head while he sat on the floor and was brushing what she could reach while comparing the butterfly hair clips with his complexion. “This one,” she says insistently, settling on a blue clip, JJ had to clip it to his own hair because she struggled to do so by herself, her tiny hands weren’t quite strong enough. “Wow! This one really brings out my eyes, huh Y/N?” He turned to you who was admiringly watching playtime unfold from the doorway still. “You look so fabulous.” You reply still holding a slight smile. You would have gladly played with the girl if she wanted, but there was something about JJ that she just loved and you couldn’t blame her. She had said he has better hair the last time they played princess together, and that it was more fun to play with than your hair, you weren’t particularly offended by this though. “I’ll get lunch started, you say, disappearing into the kitchen. You didn’t want to leave, lingering for a few moments watching Ella begin to paint JJ’s nails a glittery purple color. He was no match for her.

As you prepared lunch for the three of you, you could hear the girl’s innocent laughter and JJs colliding. She was delighted her uncle JJ was playing with her. It warmed your heart to imagine how sweet and tender and caring he would be when the two of you decided to start a family. It made you flush, and you felt fuzzy and warm as if you had only just fallen in love with him, instead your were falling deeper in love with JJ.

The thing was, you had just found out you were pregnant. The morning prior, you had taken a test after not feeling too great for a few days and as if shocked, you gasped when you found out. It wasn’t that you weren’t ready for this step in your future, it was that you were slightly sad to mourn the loss of the things you were able to do with JJ alone, like showering together and having sex on the couch in the middle of the day. Sure, they were great, but that sadness and slight doubt was replaced when you saw how amazing he was with Ella, he was attentive and caring, gentle and soft. He showed his gentle side only with her, and sometimes you wanted to squeal in excitement because of how cute it was.

Pretty soon, there would be a little JJ running around causing trouble, and you couldn’t be happier to think of it. Now, you just had to tell JJ himself. You’d taken 4 boxes worth of tests to be sure, and Sarah had helped book an appintment for you later that week with the doctor that helped her through her pregnancy, you had told kie as well and she immediately bought you a pack of prenatal vitamins and healthy snacks. Something she said was absolutely vital. She even offered to show you some pregnancy yoga stretches she taught other women. Everyone was excited for you, even John B, who Sarah had told by accident. You were slightly worried you wouldn’t find the right moment to tell JJ, not that he would react badly, just that it was such a big moment for the two of you.

You were lost in your own world while you prepared the soup and made the sandwiches in the routledge kitchen, you hadn’t noticed how quiet things had gotten. It had only been a little less than an hour, so curiosity got the better of you and you wandered back into the playroom. JJ shushed you before you could say anything and your eyes met his. Ella was sleeping peacefully cuddled up my JJ’s side, she must have wanted him to read a story and had fallen asleep. The poor girl must have been exhausted from playing. JJ looked at you with a soft smile, 2 pink butterfly clips were in his hair, and he looked a bit goofy but he was still your JJ.

You smiled softly at him, “Let me,” you mouthed to him, reaching for Ella and gently picking her up in your arms to tuck her into bed. JJ pulled a soft blanket over her as she lay peacefully sleeping. You turned for the door, while JJ leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Sleep tight cupcake.” He said softly, before joining you. You gently shut the door behind you and lead JJ to the kitchen.

“Gosh she is somethin’ else.” JJ says with a slight laugh, taking the clips out of his hair. “I love the nail color on you, very complimentary.” You joke. You proceeded to the kitchen, where you both enjoyed the lunch you had made in comfortable silence. JJ knew something was up since you were acting oddly in that moment. After eating, you sighed and went to clean to rinse the dishes, putting them into the dish washer.

“Hey,” you said finally. “Can we talk?” You ask, JJ smiles gently “of course.” He says. “What’about?” He asks you. “Well.” You begin, he can tell you’re upset, nervous at least. He takes your hands in his gently holding them in a comforting way he waits patiently for you to let it out, and when you are ready after a moment you do. “Seeing you and Ella makes my heart melt, you are so sweet with her and it just,” you stutter, stopping yourself. “It makes me realize how much of an amazing father you’ll be.” You look up at the ocean eyes of his, “I can’t wait to start a family with you.” He admits softly. “And you know I’m ready whenever you are.” He explains. He had said before he was patiently waiting for you to be ready, and he would support you however you needed. “Jayj,” you say gently. “I’m uh,” you sigh softly. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence, JJs expression that was soft turns into an elated smile. “Really, baby?” He asks in disbelief. “Yes.” You confirm. “Like 6 tests.” He embraces you tightly for a quick moment. “Oh my god,” he says through a smile and a joyous laugh. “We’re havin’ a baby!” He exclaims. “Woo!” He says loudly, with a fist up in victory. you shush hun reminding him of Ella sleeping a few doors down. JJ gets kinda serious for a few minutes, and leans down so he his face to face with your stomach, “hear that baby Maybank?” He says, “your mama and I are gonna spoil you rotten. I’ll give you everything I always wanted as a kid. We’re gonna love you so much,” JJ says, his voice cracks as he’s gotten emotional, teary eyed. “I love you so much.” He says, to both you and your baby. He embraces you with his head rested on your stomach.

You enjoy his touch and run your fingers through his hair for a few moments, he finally stands up fully again and wipes the tears from his eyes and kisses you deeply, you are so swept up in his embrace you don’t hear Sarah and John B coming back home with a few groceries. JJ pulls back immediately and goes over to John B, “we’re having a baby!” He exclaims. John B shares his excitement and they embrace. “Congratulations, man.” He pats JJ on the back. Sarah is excited too and smiled at you, scurrying to put the handful of groceries away. “Well I didn’t know you were going to tell him now.” She says with a sigh, reaching under the sink and pulling out a very expensive and fancy bottle of sparkling cider. “But we got this as a gift to celebrate!” She exclaims popping the bottle open with a satisfying fizz of bubbles and a pop.

The rest of the evening is spent in a happy daze, a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life. Kie had come over and hugged both of you very happily, and Pope and Cleo shortly after. The evening was spent in celebration, sharing happy memories and drinks. Nob alcoholic ones for you of course. Deep down you knew you were right where you needed to be and you couldn’t think of a better man to have as your baby’s father than JJ Maybank.

Taglist: @jsbaby

[kurokawaia]

Asking for a hickey 彡 Umemiya Hajime ୭ suggestive, mdni, shy!reader, first time relationship (for both partners) + more?

Thinking about Umemiya (again) and you asking him to give you a hickey for the first time. You've never gotten one nor given one and you saw a girl around your age with one on her neck and as much as you hated to say it, it looked... nice. It was as if her man was asserting his dominance even though her wasn't there. And you? You weren't opposed to that.

So, there you are, standing in between Umemiya's legs while he sits on the couch, his big hands splayed on your hips, watching you as you looking down past him to the floor. As you tug on the hem of your skirt, so many thoughts were running through your head.

Umemiya and you had only been dating for two months and as much as you didn't want to rush things, as did he, you really want more, more than just the heated make out sessions. So, asking for this is the best way to start, right?

"What is it, baby?" he asks, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the fabric. "C'mon, look at me, sweets." Ume places a soft kiss to your covered stomach and butterflies fill not only your stomach but your lower abdomen.

He's making it so hard for your pretty little head to focus, you think that if he were to be so gentle with your body you would melt. "It's embarrassing though, Haji," you mumble, looking up from the floor.

You meet his gaze while moving your hands to cradle the back of his head, fingers entangling with his platinum strands. Nervous was what you felt, you know that this isn't something to be nervous about asking.

"You can tell me, ask me anything, baby," Umemiya reassures, another kiss to your stomach before pulling away, leaning into your touch.

You bite your lip before your cheeks heat up. "Could you... uh... give me... um... a hickey... please?" your say, voice dropping to a whisper.

Umemiya couldn't even process what you had just send, he is too busy malfunctioning as he's caught off guard, blinking in shock. This was only a quick reaction before his arms wrap around your hips, strong muscle pulling you into him, thus causing a soft yelp to leave your lips.

He looks up at you, soft puppy eyes and a tiny smirk playing on his lips. Your heart begins to beat faster in wondering what his reply would be, even though Umemiya looked quite the opposite of repulsed, you're still nervous of his reply.

A hickey, huh? Didn't think you'd be into that," he hums in a teasing tone and you tense up under his touch before he sooths you. "You sure you can handle it, sweetheart?"

If your face is anything, it's definitely flushed now, beet red. "Y-Yeah! I mean... I just... I wanna see what it feels like, and..." your thumb brushes over his lip hesitantly and he relishes in the touch, you add, "I trust you."

"Alright, sweetheart. If that’s what you want, I'll make it nice and memorable for you,” he adds "But don’t blame me if you end up wanting more after."

@unriding ume thoughts once again🙂‍↕️

[wonderfull-star]

Why does in this fandom some people mostly blame the kid characters?? Even Hazel isn't so desperately justified as Peri is. Although she is also "trying her best". Oh! That's because he is a fan favorite and "energetic main protagonists" go far away! And if we remember Dev, he was also “thrown out” in this regard. In the fandom, he is known mainly only as a “stupid spoiled brat”. Although in reality sometimes he behaves far from this and can say something really smart. For example at the end of that episode he said to Hazel: “Oh is my one fairy not as important as your two fairy’s which you had longer than me!?”. Some thought that he was expressing his feelings of jealousy because of the whole situation with his father and Hazel. But I think that even despite all the disagreements between him and Peri, he actually secretly respected him and considered him equal to his parents. And in this way, Dev kind of justified both himself and Peri by telling Hazel that his fairy was no worse than her fairies.

And Hazel wasn't to blame for this either, on the contrary, she was trying to somehow defuse the situation. She tried to improve the whole situation as best she could. Hazel clearly didn't want to ruin her relationship with Dev and wanted to prove that there was a misunderstanding. Of course, it would be difficult to find the right words, especially in such a situation. Dev was really emotional then and Hazel didn't have to chase him like a tail so that he would finally understand her. So the one who was really to blame from the very beginning was Dale, who was more worried about his business, and Peri, who "excellently" managed to support Dev, but on the contrary, made his condition only worse. Oh, of course! Let's instead justify Peri in every possible way, saying that he "trying his best" or that he is still "too young". Well, he is already an adult and at least should understand what the consequences may be. Although judging by some episodes with his participation, he successfully avoided most of them (and most likely did this in the past).