#but fuck if it didn’t feel good……fuck if he isn’t glad he took out that bastard finally…….he hopes his dad would be proud……

[transk0vsky]

I understand thematically and character development wise why Casey doesn’t kill hun when he has the chance and I think that’s an interesting moment and shows a lot about Casey at his core……however I’m just saying should Casey get a second chance I don’t think he’ll hesitate……..

[afterglowsainz]

body paint | alex albon

pairing: norris!reader x alex albon

summary: after alex breaks up with his girlfriend, you’re right there to help him forget about her

fc: kensington tillo

warnings: one suggestive comment, some self-deprecation? (very light stuff), harsh lando (in all brotherly fashion)

a/n: i feel like i’ve read all the alex fics on this app i need more of him :(

—

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip williams driver alex albon has officially broken up with his girlfriend of five years

view all comments

username say sike right now

username NOOOOOO

username why on earth am i mourning a relationship that isn’t mine

username so love is officially dead okay cool to know

username f1gossip you can’t just drop this bomb on me and LEAVE

username i refuse to accept this information

username they were the standard 😭

username the day i died actually

liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and others

ynnorris we had fun 🪩💋🍸

view all comments

username my daily inspo just posted!

username so pretty 🎀

username the cool sibling fr

ynnorris landonorris ‼️

landonorris mean

kendalljenner always have fun when you’re around 😚 (liked by ynnorris)

username i’m so glad y/n decided to attend the grand prix’s out of nowhere

username honestlyyyy why were we robbed of her existence for this long

liked by francolapinto, ynnorris and others

alex_albon had fun at the night race and getting good points for the team🌛

view all comments

username MY GOAT

username this man is so beautiful my god

francolapinto 👊🏽

username how is he still carrying that tractor into the points is beyond me

username incredible

ynnorris congrats alex!

alex_albon thank you☺️

username okay 👀 i don’t hate that

ynnorris’s instagram stories

[caption 1: 💋] [caption 2: for some reason i always end up here]

alex_albon’s instagram stories

[caption 1: recharging 🔋] [caption 2: 🌊]

liked by francisca.cgomes, pietra.pilao and others

ynnorris la isla bonita

view all comments

username first alex’s story now THIS?

username talk about soft/hard launching

username nah i recognize my boy alex in that pic

username the real question is how did he bag THE y/n norris?

username that’s crazyyyy

username okay but can we talk about how absolutely gorgeous she is? 😍

alexandrasaintmleux truly mesmerized

ynnorris me when i look at you

username absolute baddie

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip a fan met alex albon and lando norris’s sister, y/n norris, today at the airport while they were traveling together

view all comments

username all the confirmation i needed

username damn it really only took him six months to find someone else

username lando’s sister, nonetheless

username he said i’m fucking FREE

username no you don’t understand this is my superbowl

username how the hell did those two got together 😭

username most out of pocket couple but they work somehow?

username this is the day i was reborn

ynnorris’s instagram stories

[caption 1: chill weekend🧖🏼‍♀️🧼] [caption 2: 💌]

like by ynnorris, oscarpiastri and others

alex_albon good few days 😎

view all comments

username OMGOMGOMGOMG

username unhinged

carmenmmundt can alex fight?

alex_albon 🤺🤺🤺

ynnorris no need carmen i chose you!

georgerussell63 😡

username the way y/n had only attended like three grand prix’s before alex bagged her 😭

username he really didn’t waste any time

username all he had was a broken heart and faith in the universe

username my roman empire

pietra.pilao cuties 🥰

landonorris don’t encourage this 😡

pietra.pilao leave them alone 🙄

username my girlfriend (and alex’s)

ynnorris so much for taking things slow

alex_albon 😊

[voguesriot]

NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✹ luke castellan

part one

( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader

( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!

♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain

♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke

seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇

yourusername you’re such a cutie perce

seaweedbrain kys

sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry

connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig

sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.

lukecastellan 2/10 post

yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔

lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you

chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH

sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED

clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl

yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera

clarisselarue good.

GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest

clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes…

sarahdawson: HES WHAT

sarahdawson: oh he’s brave

yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED

yourusername: like a bug

seaweedbrain: or a rat

yourusername: that too

lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him

silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy

yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that

yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether

lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway

lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that

lukecastellan: i mean anyone would

seaweedbrain: great save bro

lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.

sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally

DIRECT MESSAGES

clarisselarue: ok when did you get game

lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about

clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one

lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse

clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with

read.

♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others

[ tagged: sarahdawson ]

yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for

yourusername thanks max

this comment was deleted.

sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE

drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide

sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it……..

silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT

pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please

yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues

wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???

silenabeauregard the plot thickens

lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice

yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone

lukecastellan it was a rough time without it

groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves

chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college

maxwalsh nice earrings

this comment was deleted.

seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right…

clarisselarue yes.

DIRECT MESSAGES

maxwalsh: hey can we please talk

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out

yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole

maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it

maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself

yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”

maxwalsh: who tf is this???

yourusername: doesn’t matter

yourusername blocked maxwalsh.

lukecastellan posted to their story!

SARAHDAWSON replied to your story

sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT

CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story

clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad

SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story

silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere…

CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story

chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN

MAXWALSH replied to your story

maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day

maxwalsh: wtf man

lukecastellan: womp womp

lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time

♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown

♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others

[ tagged: yourusername ]

lukecastellan and it ain’t what??

yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS

clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that

silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇

yourusername thank you beautiful angel

seaweedbrain cute i guess…….

chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU

lukecastellan appreciate you bro

lukecastellan wait people said that about me???

wisegirll my favs 😭🫶

yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE

seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.

wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy

seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.

lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game

seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living

lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?

seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend… weird behaviour

sarahdawson too cute i fear

sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.

drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin…

leovaldez it’s really depressing

leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall

cbeckendorf he did

pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER 😭😭☠️☠️

( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia

[cakelitter]

Strawberry Scented

Older! Leon x Bunny! Reader

warnings: somnophilia, p in v, fingering, oral, pet names, praise

summary: You remain still, blissful as ever. Your dreams must be nice, hopping in meadows and basking in the sun; or is that too stereotypical of him? Wonder if you dream about him, does your mind replay the sweet and innocent time you spent together? Or do you get dirty dreams about him like he does?

words: 1.8k

a/n: uni is literally taking up all of my time, but i'm glad that i get to finally post. so sorry for the inactivity, hope you enjoy!!

His pretty bunny.

Your chest rising and falling, mellow breaths, the only thing that can be heard when he steps into his room. Always so clingy, following him like his shadow whenever he’s home, wrapping your arms around his as he takes care of the chores around the house. Snuggling up on his lap whenever he sits on the couch.

And when he’s away, you curl into a ball on his bed. Your fingers loosely gripping the sheets the way you grip his shirt while laying on his chest. Bunny hybrids can’t talk, your self-expression confined to either drooping or perking those fluffy ears of yours. However, he understands you pretty well, droopy means no, perky means yes, nose twitch is a maybe, and a tail twitch means “you’re getting on my nerves”.

While there is no way for you to verbally express how much you miss whenever he’s not around; your actions tell him all that he needs to know.

Funny how the universe just dropped you off at his doorstep, no like literally. Walking out of his house, fifteen minutes late is a regular occurrence for him, but tripping and almost breaking his fucking face on the pavement isn’t. Leon is not clumsy; can’t afford to be, a single slip up on a mission and he’s not making it back home.

However, he had his fair share of tripping over a things. A curb, a rock, his own damn foot, but tripping over a bunny hybrid is definitely a first.

You were curled up on his door mat (one which is certainly uncomfortable) lifting your sleepy head to give him the nastiest stare for disturbing you before going back to sleep like nothing happened. That stare was so nasty, he almost apologized for stepping out of his own house. Judging by that, he’s most probably not your first victim.

He didn’t shoo you away, didn’t have the heart to. Got a soft spot for animals, especially homeless ones. And while you’re a good seventy percent human, somehow that principle still applies.

And so, you took this as an invitation to sleep there every night. It didn’t bother him, actually left a blanket and other things out for you. Day by day, he started getting attached. You became part of his routine, and it seemed like you enjoyed his company too.

Two weeks later, he decided to let you live with him. Watching you cautiously walk into his house, double checking for approval with every step you take; scared he might yell at you for existing on his property like others would.

Leon never classified himself as a good care taker, can’t even take care of himself. On one hand, he was scared his shitty work schedule would lead him to neglecting your needs. But on the other, letting you sleep out in the open in a world that views you as a freak of nature surely isn’t the best; plus, the idea of you finding a better place to rest than here, leaving him alone the way most people did would feel like a stab to the heart.

And so, he decided to give it a chance.

The fear of neglecting you dissipated the minute you gave him a hug of gratitude; the first unspoken word of yours was a “thank you.” You became all he could think about, missing your warmth on missions and getting work done as fast as possible because he knows how lonely you must feel.

He goes above and beyond when it comes to you. Buying products that cost a fortune for your sensitive ears and the best shampoo for your soft hair. Making sure your lotion smells like strawberries because that’s your favorite, and making sure the fridge is packed with all your favorite snacks.

Bathing you is a whole process, making sure you’re squeaky clean and smelling like three thousand different products by the time he’s done; had you for less than a year and you already have twice as many belongings as he does.

Inching closer to the bed, he lays next to you, placing his hand on your waist and dropping a kiss on your forehead. Your sweet scent engulfs him, wiping away his bitter day and relaxing his tense muscles. His fingers run through your hair, moving the stray pieces covering your face.

Your haircut isn’t the best, mostly because he had to do it himself; hair salons aren’t very fond of hybrids, even the ones that look as agonizingly beautiful as you do. And although he’s been cutting his hair for longer than he can remember, he underestimated how difficult it would be to cut in a straight line.

You sigh at his touch but remain asleep, smiling he kisses your temple. You’re adorable, and he constantly reminds himself not to squeeze too hard—afraid you might burst. But deep down, he imagines that if you did, glitter and flower petals would spill out.

He’s drunk, not on whiskey like he used to, but on your scent. It’s everywhere, on his clothes, the couch, your bed, his bed; can’t escape it, not like he’s trying to anyway.

His pretty bunny.

Rewiring his brain and putting him under an unspoken spell. His finger trails down your abdomen, eyes fixated on your tender lips calling his. Slipping beneath the waist band of your panties, his finger makes contact with your clit, rubbing soft circles as he watches your expression.

You remain still, blissful as ever. Your dreams must be nice, hopping in meadows and basking in the sun; or is that too stereotypical of him? Wonder if you dream about him, does your mind replay the sweet and innocent time you spent together? Or do you get dirty dreams about him like he does?

His fingers drop down to collect some of your arousal. You’re wet, bunny pussy is always wet, always needy. He bites his lip as he feels your dripping hot arousal, rubbing your cute clit till it’s slippery. You shuffle, subconsciously opening your legs further for him to continue.

Another delicate sigh leaves your lips as he pushes his middle finger inside you; moving it in and out before adding another one. The sounds coming out of your dripping cunt makes his dick painfully hard.

He rubs his cock through his jeans, muttering curses beneath his breath. So warm and tight around his fingers and he hasn’t done much yet. Your brows furrow, lips opening before closing again. Unbuttoning his jeans with his free hand, he pulls his cock out, moving his hand up and down the length.

Pulling his fingers away, he brings them up to his mouth. Groaning as he tastes you on his tongue, you taste as sweet as you smell. And surprisingly, you haven’t woken up yet. Apparently, fingering is not enough to wake you up; noted.

Craving more of your taste, he gets up and settles himself between your thighs. His finger hooks your panties and flimsy shorts, pulling them to the side, revealing your sobbing cunt to his hungry eyes.

He might cum just from the sight, glossy and looking extremely edible. Pulling the hood of our clit back, he kisses the bud before licking up your slit. His large hands hold your thighs in place as he sucks on your weeping pussy.

Your sleepy head lifts up, the same look plastered on your face as the day you both met. Your eyes connect, crow feet forming as he smiles; took you long enough. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

Your brows furrow as he fucks his tongue into you. Doing as your told, you lay your head back down, your mind unable to focus on sleeping nor staying awake.  You begin to buck your hips at the pleasure, whining as you do so.

“Missed you so much, baby.”

He can sense your orgasm approaching as your thighs begin to quiver. He pulls away, causing you to lift your head back up. The hand that was beneath your knee slips down to your inner thigh, patting it reassuringly.

Getting up, he removes his jeans and underwear quickly before laying next to you.

“Come here.” He manhandles you to lay on his chest, thighs bracketing around his torso. Peppering a soft kiss on your head, he pushes your panties over to the side again positioning his throbbing cock at your entrance.

His hand grabs your hips, as he penetrates into you gently. Pussy so tight, he might just cry. Burying your face in his chest, your fingers grip his shirt tightly. “I know, I know. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

Another tender kiss gets placed on the crown of your head as he rubs your back soothingly. His hips remain still, letting you adjust around him before beginning to thrust shallowly. He groans, eyes closing shut as he focuses on the movement of his hips.

Bunnies are born to be bred, only logical explanation for how tight you are around him, for how constantly wet your cunt is without even being turned on. The wet patch on your underwear always evident whenever you slip them off to get into the bath, had his brain all fuzzy when he first noticed it. May or may not have stolen some of them, for personal use.

Picking up the pace, he opts for deeper thrusts, the head of his cock kissing the opening of your cervix. The mixture of your fluids dripping down the base of his length and down his balls. Your whines get louder, thighs beginning to quiver once more.

He can feel wet patches of tear drops seep through his shirt as pleasure overtakes your senses. Whimpering, you continue to squirm above him. Your orgasm nearing causing him to suck in a breath of air through gritted teeth as your cunt squeezes around him. “Yeah, just like that- fuck.”

Your walls flutter, creaming his cock till a white ring forms at the base. He curses underneath his breath, grabbing your hips harshly as he slams into you with vigor. “Gonna cum inside you, sweetheart. Don’t even think this cute cunt will let me pull out.”

His dick throbs as he releases into you, thrusts becoming slower as hot white strings coat your walls. Best orgasm he’s had in years, balls completely empty. His movement ceases, taking in a deep breath and running his fingers through his hair.

Glossy eyes make contact with his, a smile forming on your lips as your nose twitches. Pinching your cheeks, his hand tries to fix your now tangled hair; gotta brush that later. Crawling up his chest, he hisses at the overstimulating feeling. You drop a soft peck onto his lips, happy plastered all over that cute face of yours.

Maybe he should wake you up like this more often.

divider by: @/jimzittos @/kthice

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part nine)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

He’s used to feeling anger. It’s familiar to him, like a song he’s heard a million times.

But there’s something weaved in with the anger he’s feeling right now. A painful, sinking hopelessness. It’s almost debilitating.

Rafe typically looks away when he sees you and Blake together, but this time he can’t. It’s like he wants to aggravate himself.

As he sits in the sand, you’re out in the distance, far into the dark blue water, part of two silhouettes closed in a kiss.

You told him sadness isn’t weakness. That’s a fucking joke. If it wasn’t weakness, why does his heartbeat feel unsteady? He’s the very definition of weakness right now.

Rafe pats Sam on the back, mumbling that he’s heading home.

“What, already?” Sam asks, who’s been focused on flirting with Liv the entire time. “You still coming tonight?”

“Yeah,” Rafe replies, although he’s not even sure if he’ll be attending the frat party tonight. He doesn’t know what he’ll do when he faces Blake.

His legs are heavy when he drives back to the dorm. He’s glad he didn’t carpool with anyone.

Rafe needs to get his shit together. He doesn’t want a commitment. He can’t do that. But he doesn’t want you to have one, either. With anyone.

What you have is so good. Why the fuck are you ruining it?

He scoffs to himself. It’s because you’re looking for someone who can commit. And… maybe he could figure out how to do the boyfriend stuff.

Stupid. He’s in disbelief that his mind went there. You don’t even want him like that. You’re friends that fuck. Or you were.

When you wade back onto the shore with Blake, you notice that Rafe is missing. You ask Sam about it, who simply tells you he left in a rush. You settle onto the sand with the rest of your friends, lightheaded and dazed.

About an hour later, you head home. Rafe’s in his room and hears your door open. He considers knocking. But soon after, your door closes again.

He paces for a few minutes, wondering if you went to shower. Or maybe you rushed back to Blake to go spend more time with him.

He desperately hopes it’s the former. He strips down and wraps a towel around his hips, heading towards the co-ed showers.

As you lather body wash over your arms, wondering if Blake felt the same way about the missing spark in your kiss, you hear your name muttered over the rumbling of the shower, echoing through the tiled corridor. You recognize his voice immediately.

“Rafe?” you say with a laugh. As confused as you are, you’re just as relieved to hear him.

You pull the slide lock open, slowly swinging open the shower stall door, eyes landing on his cheerless face. Your smile fades.

Rafe finds both pain and pleasure in that look of concern on your face that took him prisoner long ago. He knows you only care for him as a friend. You fucking love throwing that word around.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

Rafe feels angry. He’s jealous. He’s lost. He’s drowning and this will give him one last breath before he goes under.

He barges into the shower, cupping your face with firm hands and kissing you hard. He’s terrified you’ll shove him off and tell him you’re with someone now.

“One last time,” he mumbles when he pulls back an inch away from you, begging that you’ll want him enough or at least find the pity to do this before you turn into someone else’s girlfriend.

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion. One last time? Why does he want to stop doing this? He said he wanted to keep hooking up with you just the other night.

Nonetheless, you agree. You’re falling for him and continuing this is self-destruction. Whatever his reason, you agree. Even if it hurts, you agree.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His shoulders lose all tension once your soft hands drag up his arms, curving around the planes of his muscles, landing at the sides of his neck.

Touching him is a thrill every single time. This charge of excitement is what your kiss with Blake was missing. Rafe is everything you want. You finally admit it to yourself.

On paper, this doesn’t make sense. You should be head over heels for Blake. He’s a good guy who actually wants to date you. But Rafe, with all of his temper and his arrogance and his repulsion for commitment, is who you want.

Thankfully, the rest of the showers stalls are empty, but you pull back to shut the door behind Rafe and avoid the risk of anyone seeing you.

He lazily bunches his towel onto a free hook and presses up behind you, his mouth on your wet shoulder, hot water drizzling on his back. His hands roam over your chest, down your body, between your legs.

He’s touching you like he has seconds left before he has to stop.

You feel his cock hardening against your back. If this is the last time, you need to taste him, have him every possible way you can.

You turn and sink to your knees, gripping him at his base, putting him in your mouth. He’s still partly soft, delicate against the inside of your cheek.

Rafe shudders under your touch, watching you on your knees, wisps of steam surrounding you. His cock grows in your mouth as you run your tongue over him.

You look up at him like he taught you to the night in the backseat of his car, your heart pounding.

“Those pretty eyes,” he says over the drumming of the shower. “Fuck.”

He drags a hand over your hair, savoring the way your lips close around him. His cock twitches in your mouth as his softness is replaced by tight rigidity.

You pull away, pumping his length in a tight fist, your saliva covering him.

“You always get hard so fast for me,” you praise, eyes tracking the water falling down the ridges of his toned body.

Rafe knows he’s a goner when he thinks about the fact that he wants to only get hard for you.

You put him in your mouth again and start to slowly bob back and forth, slightly gagging every time you take all of him in. He has to press his other hand against the hard plastic door to steady himself as your hot, smooth tongue circles his cock.

His eyes are locked on you. His grip tightens at the roots of your hair as he bucks his hips forward and you open your mouth wider to invite him to control the pace.

Rafe’s takes his hand off the door to hold your head as he starts to rock, slowly fucking your mouth, keeping his locked eyes on yours the entire time.

When you start to massage his balls, he groans, feeling himself getting close. He pulls out, cupping your face to beckon you to stand. You’re on your feet and he kisses you again, softer and slower this time.

As you kiss, you hear a door open down the corridor. He clenches his jaw in frustration. He doesn’t want to be quiet. He wants to hear you moan, and he wants to be the only one to hear it.

“Let’s go,” he huffs quietly.

You don’t have time to think. You turn the shower off and wrap yourselves in your towels and rush to your dorm room. The towels drop the second the door shuts, hands roaming over each other’s wet bodies, lips joining in deep kisses.

He guides you to lie in your bed. This is where it all started. That first night, it was all emotionless and instructional. Now he understands your body like nobody ever has before.

Rafe hovers over you on his knees and dips to kiss your breasts. You stifle a moan as his tongue circles your nipple.

“Louder,” he orders. You trap your bottom lip behind your teeth as you smile, obeying him and moaning as loud as you want to.

He trails kisses down your stomach, over your pelvis, across your thighs and finally puts his mouth between your legs. His wet lips lock around your clit and you tremble, hands finding his hair.

He can’t imagine how the fuck he’ll ever be able to do this to another girl. She won’t taste like you or sound like you.

Rafe runs his tongue over folds, his face getting wet with your arousal. You bunch your fingers into his soft hair, enjoying the sight of his mouth pressed up against you.

His eyes meet yours and it’s such a beautiful sight that you feel envious of all the others who’ll get to see him like this now that you’ve taught him how to please a girl.

When he slowly pushes a finger into you, you start to writhe and shudder, tightening around him. He adds a second, curling up into you as he continues to suck and lap at your clit.

It hardly takes any time at all for him to lead you into an orgasm. You tumble into it with hard pulses, arching your back and squeezing your thighs around him.

Once you come down, he kisses your pussy, thinking that it’s not fair that he didn’t get to do this more times.

He comes up to kiss you, your taste on both your tongues. His cock is swollen as he grinds up against you, the feeling of your bareness with his intoxicating.

“I wanna do it raw,” Rafe says, voice ragged and desperate. “Please?”

You nod without a second thought, wanting to feel him completely. He rubs you, spreading your wetness over his palm.

You watch him stroke himself, his fist moving quickly, covering himself with your arousal. His chest is heaving now as he looks down at you and your awestruck, open mouth.

He’ll miss seeing you like this, all blissful and hungry for him.

Rafe leans down to kiss you again as he guides himself into you, both of moaning into each other’s mouths.

You’re warm and soft and wet and tight around him, giving him a rush of ecstasy before he even cums.

“My perfect girl,” he rasps, his temple against yours. “Everything about you is so fucking perfect.”

You told him not to say shit he doesn’t mean.

He’s following your advice.

As he pushes in and out of you, his hand trails up your forearm and he laces his fingers through yours. The gesture is fucking romantic that you’re almost angry at him for doing it.

You allow yourself to live in this short-lived fantasy, letting Rafe say goodbye to you with his body.

He’s so overcome with passion that he squeezes your hand too hard, making you wince.

“Rafe,” you whisper, “that hurts.”

He tenses and stops moving immediately, blue eyes frantically searching your face for an answer.

“My hand,” you say.

“Shit,” he says. He loosens his grip, gently curling his hand around your fingers. He can’t endure seeing you in pain. Especially if he’s the one who gave it to you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say with a breathy laugh. You thought he hated holding hands. “Keep going.”

Rafe resumes his thrusts, shifting to rub your sensitive clit and meeting your lips with his again.

The pressure of him filling you, the sensation of his thumb dragging circles over you, the way he’s kissing you sends another familiar rush of pleasure through you.

You start to breathe even faster as your walls start to clench around his cock. You whimper as your body warms with the promise of another orgasm.

“Again, baby?” he grumbles in an amused tone. He loves that he can do this to you. “You deserve it.”

Rafe’s words send you over the edge again, your entire body trembling. The way you clench around his cock makes his blood hot, thrusting into you harder and harder.

“You’ll be thinking about me, won’t you?” he says. “Wishing it was me?”

He doesn’t have to say it outright. You’ll be thinking about him the next time you’re tangled up with another man like this. You know you will and it kills you to admit to yourself.

“Yes,” you impulsively answer. The words between you are so sensitive and heavy that you kiss him to stop the conversation from carrying on.

Rafe continues to pound into you, hitting so deliciously deep every time, loving how your pussy swallows him. He’s panting at this point, body slick with sweat, thighs burning as he frantically rocks in and out of you.

“Taking it so fucking good,” he grunts. “Fuck, I’m…”

When he finishes inside you, hips stuttering against yours, every muscle in his body tenses, the wave overtaking him.

He has to keep himself from collapsing on you, shifting and slowly pulling out. You lie on your side with your back to him. It’s too much to look at him after sharing something so intimate, knowing it’s the last time.

You can feel his cum inside you, the lack of him so damn painful. It’s over. You’re crashing now.

“A-plus?” Rafe mumbles against your shoulder.

“A-plus,” you say, hoping your tone doesn’t give away how somber you feel. “You officially know how to please a girl.”

You say it mainly to remind yourself of the situation you have with him. To hear it out loud that this is all a purely physical arrangement.

Rafe shuts his eyes, plummeting from the high you just gave him. He can’t say anything to that. You couldn’t be more clear that you have no feelings for him.

“Why’d you say this was the last time?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

Rafe’s not about to tell you the truth and put himself through the process of getting rejected by you. Especially after he saw you kissing another man just hours ago.

The spite and sorrow return, washing over him again.

“We said we’d do this ‘til we’re satisfied,” he says. “I’m satisfied.”

You hate that his words hurt as much as they do.

You’re about to remind him of what he said at the party a few nights ago, about how he wants to keep fucking around with you. But what’s the point in convincing him to keep doing this when you already know it’s best to end it?

“It was fun while it lasted,” you say indifferently. You’re not even close to satisfied, but you’re not going to beg him. “You can go if you want.”

Another touch from him would be too much. You need to end this now.

Rafe’s weight shifts behind you as he gets out of your bed. You gave him the easy way out. And this is Rafe. Of course he’s going to take it.

Your door shuts behind him and you let out a shaky exhale as you lie in bed, hating that hot tears prick at your eyes.

You weren’t supposed to develop feelings. You lost.

Rafe tells himself he won’t care when he sees you with Blake. He’ll act like it doesn’t fuck with his head until it no longer does. He’ll go to tonight’s party and find a girl and sleep around like he wanted to before he met you.

As you get ready a couple of hours after Rafe left, you’re pretty sure going to the frat party is a shitty idea considering you still feel so heavy-hearted. But it’s better than staying in your room, wallowing in your sadness.

You don’t really want to face Blake in case he tries anything, but the sooner you let him know you only want to be friends, the better. It’s best to rip the bandaid off.

You meet Liv at the house, purposely avoiding Blake and Rafe before you’ve had a drink. A couple of sips in, though, Blake and Sam approach you two, offering you a joint.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” Liv jokes, taking a puff. She offers it to you and you take one pull. Then another. And one more.

The boys challenge you to a game of beer pong and you and Liv follow them to the dining room. You catch Rafe’s gaze. He’s with another girl. Of course he is.

He’s is in the living room, a few minutes into a conversation with someone who approached him, when he sees you. You’re right next to Blake while you set up a game of beer pong. It’s infuriating him all over again.

He realizes there’s a gap in conversation. She must have said something he ignored. He tries to put his focus back onto her, but how can he when the girl he’d do anything for is just across the room, giving another guy the attention he’s dying for?

As you play with Blake against Sam and Liv, you land a ball in a cup. Blake cheers and puts an arm around your waist.

“Nice one,” he says, looking down at you with a smile. You know you’ll have to break it to him soon. Leading him on any longer wouldn’t be fair.

The game carries on, the fog of your high thickening. You keep glancing over at Rafe, who’s looking down at her with that smug smile you know so well. He was just inside you hours ago, raw, and he’s already hitting on someone else.

Sam and Liv end up winning the round, and now that you’re tipsy and stoned, the music is too loud, the air is too humid.

You take a deep breath and look up at Blake, needing a break from everything. You lean in, making sure not to touch him.

“Could we go to your room?” you ask. “I need to sit down.”

“Yeah,” he says. He takes your hand and leads you through the crowd and up the stairs.

Rafe sees you and his chest tightens. It was fun. That’s all you said. It was so much fucking more than that to him, but to you, it was fun.

You’re not shy anymore. Thanks to him. That’s probably why you’re comfortable going upstairs and hooking up with Blake so soon.

He told himself he would act like he doesn’t care. It’s taking everything in him to follow through.

When you settle onto the edge of Blake’s bed, he sits next to you. You can smell his cologne and immediately think of how much more you like Rafe’s.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

“I think I smoked too much,” you reply.

“Shit, that’s not fun.” He puts his hand on yours. “Can I help? Do you want some water or something?”

You swallow hard, taking advantage of the courage you have from the substances you drank and inhaled.

“Blake,” you say quietly. You look down at your lap.

“Yeah?”

“I… want to be honest with you. I think we’d be better off as friends. I’m really sorry if you want more.”

Tension immediately grows between you. After a moment, he replies.

“It’s all good. I think you’re right.”

Maybe he’s saying it just to save face. Or maybe he can sense that your conversations are rigid more often than not and affection between you feels like it’s missing something. Either way, you’re relieved he’s taking it with grace. It’s what you expected from him.

“You deserve a great girl,” you tell him sincerely. Blake looks down and nods.

“If it’s him you want, I hope he gets his shit together for you.”

Blake doesn’t have to say his name. It’s obvious. It’s embarrassing that you’re so transparent, but you try to push away the discomfort.

You meet his eyes and can only offer him a disappointed smile. You hope Rafe can get his shit together, too. But you saw him with another girl downstairs and you know his heart isn’t yours.

Like he said, he’s satisfied. He’s done with you.

Since you sat down, the world has started spinning even harder. You’re not even at the peak of the high yet.

“Is it okay if I lie here on my own for a while?” you ask quietly.

“Of course,” Blake says. “Let me know if you need anything.”

He leaves, surely grateful he doesn’t have to stay with a girl who just rejected him. You breathe through the scary whirling sensation flooding you.

You lean back on the bed and lie down, anxiety gripping you. You know you just have to ride the high out, but your heart is racing.

You close your eyes, taking calculated breaths, trying to keep the fear at bay.

You hear taps at the door a few minutes later and turn your head to see Liv come in. She offers to walk you to your dorm, but the mere thought of even just sitting up when you’re feeling so sick makes you even dizzier.

“I think I just need to stay like this for a while,” you tell her. “I’ll find you, okay? Go have fun.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Text me if you need me,” Liv says.

Eventually, you still feel woozy, but you’re able to sit up. You’ll definitely need help getting home. You’ll find Liv, get home and crawl into bed.

Rafe blew off the girl he was talking to and has been drowning his feelings in booze. When he sees Blake downstairs, he notices you’re nowhere near him.

His eyes search around for you, but you’re not here.

Then he sees you coming down the stairs, slow with every step, holding the bannister with two hands. Any animosity he held for you dissolves when he sees how disheartened you look.

The vision of you like this sobers him up. You were upstairs and Blake just left you to keep partying? He cuts through the crowd and meets you at the bottom of the staircase.

When Rafe approaches you, your anxiety loses some of its power. What you shared earlier today was such a beautiful experience that you almost forget you’re never going to touch him again.

“Hey,” Rafe says over the loud music. “You okay?”

“Partied too hard,” you say tiredly. Your body still feels a bit numb, your head swimming, your inhibitions squandered. You’re afraid of what you might say to him with less of a filter.

He wants to know what kind of partying you’re talking about. If you actually went all the way with Blake. As if knowing will make any difference.

“What’d you do up there?” he asks. You scowl. Is he seriously still jealous of Blake?

“Why do you care?” you ask. “Where’s the girl you were talking to?”

“I don’t want her.”

“Onto the next one, then,” you say bitterly. “I need to go home.” You step to the side to pass him. Your knees wobble and he grips your forearms, keeping you steady.

“I’ll take you, baby.” You realize that’s the first time he called you that outside of sex.

His sense of protectiveness over you is almost overwhelming to him. He realizes he hasn’t ever cared about someone this much before.

“Liv’ll walk with me,” you tell him. You search for your friend in the crowd to see her in a corner, lips locked with Sam’s.

You consider taking Rafe up on his offer. Liv’s busy. Her dorm is on the other side of campus. Rafe is your next-door neighbor. It’s logical that he takes you home.

But your desire to do it not based on logic. You want to spend time with him and live in the fantasy a little longer.

Another wave of dizziness hits you and you look down with a pinched forehead and a shallow frown.

“Hey, what is it?” Rafe asks softly. You love and hate these few and far between displays of sweetness of his because as nice as they are, they never last.

“Dizzy,” you say. His hands are still wrapped around your forearms.

Guilt seeps into his bones, angry that you were upstairs like this by yourself. Especially if you and Blake hooked up and he just left you to sit in discomfort. Rafe would never leave you like this. He’d stay with you.

“Everything okay?” Blake appears behind Rafe. Weeks of pent-up rage twist deep in his gut. He’s been avoiding him all night for this reason.

“You just left her alone up there?” Rafe snaps.

“What?” Blake says.

“Is that how you’re going to treat her?” Rafe says through gritted teeth.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Blake snaps.

Rafe’s hands lose contact with you, his blood boiling as he turns to look at Blake, his chest aggressively pushing up to his.

“You’re a fucking joke,” Rafe starts to shout.

“Back up before you do something you regret, Cameron,” Blake replies. Rafe steps even closer, fists clenched.

“Back up,” Blake warns again. He looks to you and asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

This is the final straw for Rafe. How dare he pretend like he gives a shit about you?

He shoves Blake hard, finally giving into his rage for everything. For taking you. For leaving you upstairs. For being better than him.

Blake’s nostrils flare and he steps forward, hands bunching around Rafe’s collar.

“Get out,” Blake mutters. “Go. You’re done here.”

You’re in shock. You pull at Rafe’s hand, trying to deescalate the best you can while you’re still feeling so disoriented.

“Let’s go,” you urge. Rafe’s face is a mix of anger and confusion and regret. You can’t tell if he seriously just got kicked out of his frat over you.

In shock, Rafe lets you pull him out of the house into the quiet night air. It’s the blind leading the blind at this point, your muscles weak as you step out on the sidewalk.

Your dorm is just shy of a ten minute walk away, but you’re not sure you can do it if someone’s not watching out for you.

Rafe’s hands are in his hair as he paces out into the street.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice shaky. “Fuck. Fuck.”

You cross your arms as the cool breeze hits you and watch him through worried eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” you try to console him.

“No, it won’t.” He’s reeling. The brotherhood has a code of conduct. Violating it is a big deal. He fucks up once and he’s done. And on top of all that, he lost you.

“You guys’ll talk it out when you’re sobered up,” you say.

“You don’t fucking get it!” Rafe shouts. His volume startles you and he notices you jolt and it makes him feel a hundred times shittier.

You watch each other in silence for a moment before you speak again.

“I’m not going to stand here and let you yell at me,” you say to him. You turn and head towards your dorm, albeit slowly.

Rafe sighs, watching you walk away from him, knowing he should get used to the feeling. He rushes to catch up to you, reaching you as you pace down the sidewalk. He grips your forearm in case you get weak again.

“Wait,” he mutters impatiently. “Wait, I’m…”

“Why the fuck are you mad at me?” you say, staring ahead, refusing to look at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“Don’t say that word,” Rafe says. “I can’t stand that word.”

It stings. He can’t even see you as a friend now that he’s satisfied with you?

“If we’re not friends, then why get so pissed off at him for leaving me upstairs? If you don’t care about me, why did you do that?” you challenge.

Rafe feels drunk, heavy, and afraid of it coming out wrong.

“I wouldn’t have left you,” he says.

“You left me today,” you say with a pissed off laugh.

His rage and jealousy are clouding his judgement. Deep down, he feels like shit for the way he left you in your bed, but all he can see is red right now.

“Well, I’m not your boyfriend,” Rafe snaps. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“I told him to, Rafe!” you shout. Embarrassment floods his body. Shit. “You’re the most confusing person I’ve ever fucking met.”

Rafe almost laughs. If he’s confusing to you, you couldn’t imagine living with his brain. It’s constantly tugging him in ten different directions.

You cross the street, arms still crossed, trying not to cry.

“What’s so confusing?” he asks. He can’t stand that you’ve kept your eyes off of him this whole time. “Look at me.”

You stop under a streetlamp on the campus pathway, glaring up at him. He hates how sad you look.

“You’re mean, then you’re nice,” you say. “You don’t want to do couple shit, then you call me your girl. You say you’re satisfied and done with me, then you try to fight Blake for leaving me upstairs. I don’t fucking get you.”

“I never said I was done with you,” Rafe replies.

You scoff. Of course he’s going to pick apart your words and move past the actual subject. All this man does is avoid his feelings. You turn to keep walking, but he steps in front of you.

“I don’t want to be done with you,” he says.

A dangerous feeling of hope blooms in your chest.

“We said it was the last time,” you remind him. “You got what you wanted from me.”

“I…” Rafe looks down and shakes his head. “No. I want more.”

“What… kind of more?” you say, tone softening.

He rakes a hand through his hair and exhales. He’s on not sure he’s ever felt this scared before.

“What kind of more?” you repeat.

“More than just… fucking around,” he finally says. He winces like he’s bracing for the impact of your words.

“I thought you said you don’t want to be tied down,” you say.

“Yeah, ‘cause I think college is supposed to be fun,” he says. “But… being with you would be fun. Being with you is the most fun I’ve...”

Rafe looks down again, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Are you with him?” he says quietly.

“Rafe,” you say with a huff. He just doesn’t see it. “Did I stay with him or did I leave with you?”

He lets the words sink in for a moment. You chose him. Damn. You actually chose him.

“I saw you kiss him,” he says, possibly in a subconscious way to sabotage everything.

You freeze. That must be why he left the beach so suddenly. He saw you with Blake and he couldn’t take it.

“But you didn’t see me telling him that I’m not interested in him like that,” you reply.

A weight lifts off his chest, giving him space to breathe better. Rafe realizes he’s already too deep. If you’re going to break his heart, you might as well break it all the way. At least that way he’ll be sure.

“Do you… do you want me?” he stammers. “As a - a boyfriend? Do you want that?”

He’s never looked so vulnerable to you before. Not even when you walked in on his father berating him. This is a new expression. One he’s been hiding from you.

“You want to be my boyfriend?” you say, a smile curling on your lips, your body going numb.

He awkwardly shuffles in his spot, nervously pushing his hair back again.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Yeah?” Rafe echoes.

“Of course,” you laugh. The fact that you seem so sure makes his heart warm in a way he’s never felt before.

“You’re not just saying that?” he asks.

It hits you like an unexpected storm, like the sudden raindrops on the night on the boat, that maybe Rafe doesn’t think he’s as great as he pretends to be. That it’s all an act, that he feels like he’s not worth loving and he hides it behind ego and coldness.

“Rafe,” you laugh. “No, I’m not just saying that.” You close the distance between you, brushing his bangs off his face, thumbs tracing over his cheekbones.

He looks like he’s still scared that you’re being insincere.

“What if I fuck it up?” he says. “I don’t know how to...” Be a boyfriend.

“We both know you can learn,” you reassure him.

Rafe finally lets himself believe that you really do like him, smiling, dimples caving into his cheeks. The way his eyes light up might just break your heart in the best way.

He doesn’t know if you turned him into someone else, or if he was always this person. But he wants it all. The dates, the affection, the commitment. He wants it all if it’s with you.

Rafe kisses you and this time, he allows himself to feel all the vulnerability he repressed before. You’re doing the same thing.

He doesn’t want to stop tasting your lips and feeling your nose nudge against his as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper.

After you somehow manage to pull yourselves off of each other, Rafe’s fingers lace between yours as you walk the rest of the way back to your dorm.

He knows he left things back at the house in shambles. He knows he probably lost his place in the frat and his future living in the house. He knows his temper fucked him over like it usually does.

But for once in his life, he has someone looking at him like he’s not a complete disappointment.

(part ten)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

[thebearer]

fall into me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: part 2 of follow me. your date with carmen.

contains: fluff. anxious carmen. mentions of mikey. but all fluff :)

Carmen was sure he was going to be sick. A new kind of sickness, where his stomach felt like it was going to fall out of his mouth and ass at the same time. He changed his outfit six times, slacks and a tie felt too formal. Jeans felt out of the question, and while the very cool guy on TikTok swore that slacks and t-shirts were in this season… Carmen couldn’t bring himself to wear it. 

So he wore his slacks, good shoes he still had from pretentious meetings in the restaurant, and his good button down, a steely type blue- the saleswoman told him it really complimented his eyes, then wrote her number on his receipt. Of course, Carmen didn’t call it. He’d never allow himself the simple pleasures like that. 

Carmen smoked the whole way to the restaurant, a bottle of cologne in his pocket, which he doused himself in on the corner, popping a mint. He saw you standing there, awkwardly on your phone by the light pole, head ducked to your screen in your black, silk, cowl neck dress. Carmen could feel his heart jump at the sight of you, cursing while he started to jog in the still new shoes. 

“Hey, shit, sorry.” Carmen apologized, his chest tightening and burning as he slowed in front of you. “I-I couldn’t find my phone.” Definitely not because I tried on a million different outfits and had a panic attack.

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t text me back. Thought you ghosted me at your own restaurant.” You quipped, his heart plummeting, face falling with it. You grinned, shoving your phone in your tiny purse. “‘M fucking with you, Carm. I just got here.” 

“Oh,” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, good. That-That’s good. Do you want to go in?” 

“Sure.” You giggled. “After you, Chef.” 

“C’mon.” Carmen laughed lightly, shaking his head, hoping it would hide his burning cheeks. You were ahead of him, reaching for the door, his heart skipping when he saw it. “I got it!” 

You drew your hand back, looking at him carefully. The blush in his cheeks spread down to his neck. “I-I got it, let me get it.” Carmen nodded, pulling the handle. You glided past him, his hand ghosting on the small of your back, leaving you shuddering under his touch. It was casual, you doubted he even knew he did it, just a slight usher while he followed you in. 

“It’s so different being here at night.” You whispered to him, your arm brushing his while you walked to the hostess station. 

Carmen nodded. “I know, it’s, uh, it’s nice to see it like this, ya know?” He muttered. “See it from a customer’s perspective.” 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” You asked, your head tilting to the side softly. “Why we’re kinda doing this?” 

Carmen’s heart fell, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He could feel his own mind racing. Of course, you didn’t think this was a date. Why would you ever want to be on a date with him?

“I mean, yeah, sorta. Here f’you too. To thank you for everything.” Carmen nodded, eyes cutting to yours. Fuck, he knew he needed to look at you, he wanted to look at you, but it was so fuckin’ hard. When you looked so pretty, so effortlessly calm and cool. It made him fluster. 

“C’mon, Carm. You hired me, paid me. And you guys have been so nice. Most places are… horrible. Act like I’m bothering them when they hired me. You’ve got a good place, great staff. I’m glad you wanted me to be a part of it for a while.” You smiled, stepping up to the hostess station.

Carmen could feel his heart squeeze, an uncomfortably tight realization that this would be the last time he saw you. He’d been running numbers all night, seeing where he could take cuts so he could keep you, but even then, you’d be gone for at least another two months since you already took another job. By then, whatever you had here, would be gone. 

“Ah, there you are, the VIP customers for the night.” Richie schmoozed, sliding behind the hostess stand. 

You grinned, Carmen’s eyes downcast making Richie’s jaw tick. “How are you two this evening?”

“Great.” You beamed. “Excited to try this place. I’ve never been here before. Heard it’s the best in Chicago.” You nudged Carmen playfully with your hip, grinning at him. 

He gave you a tight lipped smile, hands by his side, trying to nonchalantly wipe his hands on his slacks. Richie smiled at you, glaring lightly at Carmen. “Well, you heard right, sweetheart. We want your night to be extra special, so we have this booth back here just for the two of you.” 

“Hey, Syd,” Tina muttered, looking up from her plating to see your head pass with Carmen’s curly locks. “They’re here.” 

“Shit, are they?” Sydney turned, looking through the window. “God, Carmen looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

“Fuck, he does, doesn’t he?” Sugar huffed, her hands on her hips. 

Richie caught Sugar’s eye through the window, a flickering glance that told her exactly what she needed to know. “So, I will have the focaccia out for the two of you shortly. Can I start you off with anything to drink?” 

“‘M good.” Carmen muttered, taking the leather bound menu into his hands, knee bouncing under the table. 

You looked a little uncomfortable, eyes cutting to Carmen’s before a moment of hesitation flashed over your face. “Uh, I’ll take a glass of whatever you think would pair best with the meal?” 

“Perfect. I’ll have that out.” Richie smiled, hoping his silent screams at Carmen would be enough for him to catch on. Fak passed, slipping a piece of paper in Richie’s hand. Richie stepped away, reading Sugar’s scribbled writing: “GET CARMEN BACK HERE NOW!!!!” 

“Excuse me, folks,” Richie greeted apologetically, though the two of you weren’t talking. “Carmen, I hate to do this, but I need you just for a second, ok?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth without so much as looking at you. Richie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’ll just be a second. That focaccia and riesling are on the way.” Richie grinned at you, stepping beside Carmen. 

“What’s goin’ on? Did we run out of-” 

“-No, you fuckin’ moron.” Richie huffed, letting the door slam shut. “The fuck is your problem, huh? You’re not even- hey, send that to six with the Cakebread white, ok?- You’re not even looking at her, c’mon, Cousin.” 

Carmen blushed, running a hand through his hair. “What? I-I’m talkin’ to her-” 

“-No, you’re not.” Sugar snapped, rounding the corner. “You look like an ass, Carmy. You’re on a date with her and-” 

“-It’s not a date.” Carmen shook his head, brushing it off. 

Sugar blinked. “You’re on a date with her,” She repeated, her tone firmer- a mom tone she’d adapted since working here that would help with the baby. “And you’re acting like a total-total…” Sugar waved her hands, stuttering over the word. 

“Jagoff.” Neil added, passing through the kitchen for a moment before going out the doors. 

“Thank you! Yes! A total jagoff.” Sugar glared at Carmen. 

“I-I don’t even think she thinks it’s a date-” 

The kitchen erupted in groans, shouting at him irritatedly. “Look at how she’s dressed. If she thought this was a free meal ticket, she wouldn’t wear that. That is a date night dress.” 

“That’s true.” Sydney added. 

Carmen couldn’t help the way his heart flipped with excitement, looking out the window at you, sitting at the table, nursing your wine slowly- alone. 

“Cousin, c’mere,” Richie motioned him, leading him towards the office. “Look, I get you got this whole ‘I deserve nothing good’ doom and gloom attitude, but that right there. That’s good.” Richie jabbed his finger towards the door. “I see you, ok? You guys got that cute little texting thing goin’ on, alright?” 

Carmen stilled. He felt like a teenager again, being teased and tormented by Mikey and Richie about a crush he had. How the fuck did he know about your texting? “Look, if you let her go tonight without even trying, you’re gonna regret it. You only got one chance, cousin, do not miss your chance to blow.” Richie said seriously. 

“Don’t fuckin’ quote Eminem to me right now-” 

“-Alright, alright, but seriously?” Richie nodded into the office, the tiny frame that held Mikey’s note ‘Let it rip!’. Carmen felt his stomach turn, guilt trilling in it. He knew Richie was right and that fact alone made him queasy. “Listen to Mikey, alright? You can have good shit in your life.” 

Carmen looked at the photo, taking a grounding breath, Mikey’s voice ringing loud in his ears. “Let it rip.” Carmen muttered, pushing past the double doors back to you. 

“Oh, no way!” You laughed. “You don’t have TikTok?” 

“No, no. Don’t have time for it.” Carmen shrugged, sipping his water. 

“Then how do you watch our videos?” You asked, brow raising in question. 

“I click the link you send me and it opens up just on my Google or whatever.” Carmen grinned, shrugging lightly, popping another truffle fry in his mouth. He’d nearly fallen over when you asked for ranch, teasing you lightly. You’d only shrugged, sticking one in your mouth, declaring it would taste better with ranch. You were kidding, of course, it was perfect. 

“Wow.” You smirked, finger tracing around the rim. “You’re missing out. It’s addictive.” 

“Yeah? It’s weird too.” Carmen snorted lightly. 

“Says you! You’re Mr. TikTok Famous and you don’t even know it.” You pushed his arm lightly, trying not to gawk at how firm his biceps were. Sure, you’d definitely seen them while he was working, but… they felt better than they looked. “Should see how you’ve got everyone in a tizzy. Chopping onions and marinating wagyu.” 

Carmen laughed, cheeks reddening at the compliment. “Yeah, those comments were…shocking.” 

“You think?” You cocked your head to the side. “I thought they were pretty normal.” 

“Half of them were asking me to violently punch them.” Carmen laughed, eyes widening at you. 

“Well, can you blame them?” You grinned, leaning in closer. “You got nice hands. Of course, they’re going feral. I knew what I was doing with that shot. Giving the people what they want.” 

Carmen blushed furiously, hoping you couldn’t see under the low light of the restaurant. “Nah, c’mon.” He looked down at his fingers, etched with tattoos. 

“You c’mon.” You grinned, reaching out a little daringly to trace a finger over his veins. You’d blame the wine for your boldness, but Carmen shivered under your touch. “You’ve got hot hands. No wonder they all go so crazy. You’re a pretty chef with good hands.” 

Carmen knew you had to see his blush now, sure his body temperature went up ten degrees, heart beating so bad in his chest he was sure he wasn’t going to make it another course. “Uh,” Carmen laughed, running his free hand over his mouth, hoping to hide some of his grin. He didn’t dare move his hand from his. “Well, thanks, I guess. I, um, I wanna say I think the same.” 

You lifted a brow, biting back a laugh when he stuttered, his eyes widening. Your giggles were infectious to him, a stream of his own nervous laugh spilling out of his throat. “No, I-I meant- fuck, I meant… I, uh, I think you’re pretty.” 

There was a pause, your own teeth pulling in your lip, grinning shyly at him. “Really?” You asked. You felt like you were in junior high again, finding out the boy on the JV team like liked you. It was giddy, the feeling in your chest. Warm, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Beautiful, really.” 

“Well, thank you.” You grinned, hoping to hide your smile behind your own glass of wine. Fak came by, dropping your next course off, a temporary relief for the moment, letting the two of you get yourselves together. 

“You think he’ll do it?” Sugar asked, pretending to roll silverware while Richie handed them to her. A meaningless job that just so happened to be by the window, so they could see the two of you. 

“I dunno. Could go either way.” Richie sucked in a breath. “He seems to be close, ya know? Think he has it in him to do it, just… fuck, I hope he does.” 

“Me too.” Sugar sighed. “Can you hear what they’re saying? It looks… nice? So that’s gotta be good, right?” 

“Yeah, hopefully…” Richie hummed, squinting to try and make out the words you were whispering to each other. The two of you were pressed together, migrated together as the meal went on until you were huddled, like it was the two of you. 

“I really don’t want you to leave.” Carmen admitted, body pressed to yours, hand in yours in the dim light of the booth. Everyone had left, all the patrons shuffled out and escorted to their cars. Some of the kitchen staff went home, but some stayed, pretending to be extra tedious with their cleanup so they could see the two of you. 

“I know. I’m having such a good time with you.” You agreed, tilting your chin up to look at him, lashes batting, eyes a little glossy from the wine. 

“No- I mean, yeah I-I’m having a good time with you, too. But I meant… leave forever.” Carmen admitted, the lump in his throat growing more and more with each word. “I really liked having you here.” 

“I liked being here.” You hummed, tongue running over your bottom lip lightly. “It was a lot of fun. I liked spending time with you.” 

“Yeah? I liked spending time with you too. A lot.” Carmen admitted. “And I… I want to keep spending time with you?” It came out more as a question, all hopeful eyes and a rounded gaze. “If-If you want to-” 

“-Yeah.” You grinned. “I wanna keep spending time with you. I like being with you, Carmen.” 

“Yeah? Really?” Camren was half convinced he was hallucinating. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “If you wanna spend some more time with me too. I’d like to get to know you more, and not to just write a staff spotlight on.” You giggled, his lips curling at the sound. “To, like, really get to know you.” 

“I would… yeah, I’d like that. Like to get to know you too.” Carmen nodded. 

There was a pause, the tension between the two of you was thick. Your eyes darted from his lips back to his eyes, already leaning closer. Carmen could feel his stomach lurch with nerves, Mikey’s voice ringing over and over and over. 

Let it fuckin’ rip, Carmen thought before he moved in, lips on yours. His hands were clammy cradling your jaw but you didn’t seem to mind, your own arms snaking their way around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. 

���Holy shit!” Richie gasped, dropping the fork. “Look! Fuckin’ look!” 

The staff clambered around to huddle by the window, watching the two of you kiss, pulling apart with small smiles, before going back in. Carmen’s hands sliding down your back, your arms, your waist- fuck, he just loved feeling you like this, and he hadn’t even felt all of you. Yet. 

“He fuckin’ did it.” Richie grinned, awing at Carmen. “Hey, Sug, might be a bad time, but I believe I’m owed fifty dollars.” 

You pulled apart, grinning at Carmen, still huddled close together, his hands rubbing the silk fabric of your dress, your sliding through the curls on the nape of his neck. Your mind was dizzy, the rush of adrenaline, emotion, and buzzing from the wine. 

“What’re you doin’ tomorrow?” Carmen asked. 

“Nothing.” You hummed. “Why? You’ve got something in mind?” 

“Not-Not right now, actually.” Carmen admitted with a small laugh. “But I’d love to do something with you.” 

“Me too.” You smiled. 

Carmen looked around, catching his staff standing in the window, rolling his eyes when they darted after he caught them, scampering in different directions. “Um, it’s gettin’ kinda late.” Carmen looked at you, fingers drumming on his thigh- that was still touching yours. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking at your phone. “I guess I should go, and I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth then offering his hand to help you. “Did you walk here?” 

“No, I took the L.” You walked towards the door beside him. It was quiet, the soft hum from the kitchen, the muffled clatters of pots and pans being put away. 

“Me too. I’ll ride back with you?” Carmen offered. 

“I thought you lived like three blocks away?” You giggled, tilting your head to the side. “And I’m in the opposite direction.” 

“Yeah, I-I do.” Carmen nodded. “I just… You shouldn’t ride alone at night, ya know? Shit could happen and… I don’t want it to. To happen to you.” 

You could feel the heat flushing through your cheeks, through your chest. You laughed lightly. “Is this your way of trying to come home with me?” You lifted a brow playfully. 

“No! No.” Carmen shook his head, flustered, which made you laugh harder. 

“I’m kidding, Carm.” You giggle, reassuring him. “But… if you wanted to come stay the night. Since it’s late… and you’re insisting on coming with me on the L.” 

“I don’t wanna make-make it weird, or come off like that. I-I really am… I like you.” Carmen stuttered. Fuck, there was nothing more tempting than that invite, but Carmen didn’t want to fuck this up. He really didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“I mean, stay over so we can talk more.” You gave him a pointed look. “We were having a good conversation. Weren’t we?” 

“Yeah, no, yeah. Yeah, we were.” Carmen stuttered, hand on the door, twisting the lock though his eyes never left yours. 

“So… You want to come over then? Finish telling me about Copenhagen? Please?” And how could Carmen say no, his head spinning with excitement when he walked out behind you, letting the door fall shut, your arm looping around his while you walked towards the L. 

Richie ran to the front, pushing the door open with Sugar and Tina, watching the two of you walk towards the station. “Good job, Cousin.” Richie muttered. 

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man- Part Four// W.W.

Warnings/Info: cursing, fluff, lots of Wonka whimsy, Willy liking pregnancy boobs

It worked. Everything went according to plan, and your husband has no reason to believe that he wasn’t the father of your baby.

With time, your belly started to grow more and more, and luckily, so did Willy’s chocolate sales.

You were about four months along in your pregnancy when Willy gave you the news that he had bought the chocolate shoppe. He was beaming with glee and you were overjoyed for him. You wanted to help him, so you said, “How about I come and work for you?”

“Oh, no no, no heavy lifting for you, or being on your feet for hours.” he said firmly as he caressed your belly.

“Not even just as the cashier, Willy? I haven’t had a job in years since I’ve been a wife. I’d love to get back out into the world again. And be with you, of course. I’ll keep a stool nearby to sit in if I get tired, if that would make you feel better.”

Willy sighed, then he grinned at you, “Okay, you can work the register. I know that I can count on you. You did promise to help run the business side of things.” He took your hands in his, “Things are happening, y/n. I’ve saved enough money to not only to but the shoppe, but also to rent an apartment nearby. I know it won’t be as spacious and comfortable as what you’re used to, but this is just the beginning. I want you to live with me. And if things keep going the way they have been, you’ll be living like a Queen, and our baby will be the prince or princess of the Wonka chocolate empire.” Willy had put his forehead on yours.

"Oh, Willy, you have already made me the happiest woman in the world. I just know that you-that we will have everything we dream of, I'm happy to work hard, and to be with you and our child."

You and Willy were so absorbed in one another and your daydreaming, that you didn't even hear the front door of your home open.

"What. The. Fuck?" it was your husband, home early and unexpectedly from work.

You and Willy looked over at Mr. Hudson, both in shock. You didn’t know what to say.

“John, how-"

“What a fine day this is, huh? I come home with a sniffle to find my wife with the fucking…chocolate salesman?”

“John, it’s, it’s not what you-well it is actually…”

“That’s it, y/n! Tell me what the hell is going on here.” he yelled, approaching you, towering over you with his height, and actively trying to intimidate you. This was the side of him only you saw.

“John,” you trembled, “this baby isn’t yours, it’s his. I’m in love with him.”

“Ha, well you can go ahead and be in love in the streets for all I care. Get your clothes and get the hell out of my house.”

You were scared, not necessarily of John, but to leave the only home you knew. You were glad that John didn’t say or do anything to Willy.

Willy was with you as you packed, and he held your hand on the way out of the house. You thought that maybe it was a good thing that this has happened now, rather than drag it out any further.

“Alright well, let’s go check out that apartment.” Willy said in his cheery voice to help make you feel better. You knew that you were going to be happy with this man, no matter what.

You were able to close on an apartment that day, well, Willy was, as you didn’t have an income yet. But that soon changed as you went to work together in the chocolate shoppe. Within days of opening, you were making good money.

You balanced the cash drawers, and the accounting books as Willy worked hard on his sweet creations. The candy he made was as tasty as ever, and the shoppe was an absolute dream. Hoverchocs, giraffe milk macaroons, edible flowers, and lollipops as far as the eye could see. It was a whimsical, colorful, joy to behold, with a giant winding cherry tree in the middle of the shoppe. There were pink cotton Candy clouds that you could climb upon, you and Willy would sit on them and have some chocolate milk, and then eat the tea cups.

It was the most fun you’d ever had in your life. It also felt amazing to help build something from essentially nothing, and to be creative with him.

Even at home, Willy would be inventing new flavors and trying new techniques and asking for your input of course.

...........

As you went into the later months of your pregnancy, you and Willy were able to buy a house. It was no mansion, but it was big enough to accommodate a young couple and their new baby, and maybe another child down the road.

You would be at the shoppe all day, resting adequately, of course. Willy eventually gave you an office in the back room to do your accounting work, which was good for you as you were heavily pregnant, but you started to miss being out front with customers. But you knew that once the baby arrived, things would be back to normal soon.

In the evenings, your tired Willy would rest his head on your big, basketball-sized belly and sing to our unborn baby. "Come with me, and you'll be in a woorrld of pure imagination." His voice was like that of an angel, soft and soothing. You could tell that your baby was relaxed by their father's voice, because he would lull you to sleep with his sweet lullabies after a long day in the office.

You started to set up the nursery together, and it was of course candy themed, much like your chocolate shoppe. Willy had lollipop raddles and candy cane-shaped teething rings made for the baby, among lots of other colorful accessories that resembled the sweet treats that were sold in the shoppe.

Above the baby's crib was a mobile made special by Willy, they were smaller versions of the pink cotton candy clouds that hung in the shoppe. Everything was absolutely adorable, and it made your heart swell with happiness.

After looking around the baby's room, you hugged your chocolatier, "Oh Willy, I'm so happy." you nuzzled against his shirt collar as he hugged you tightly. "I can't wait to meet our baby."

"Me either, my darling." he said, kissing you on the head, and then looked at you, "But I have to say that I'll miss your boobs being so big." He then eyed the large mounds on your chest.

You laughed, "You are a typical man, Willy Wonka. You can still use them as pillows after I have the baby."

"I know, but they're just so squishy right now-" he gently cupped your breasts through your shirt, "like marshmallows, or pudding."

"Okay, okay, you better stop before you get too excited, Willy." you giggled, kissing him.

Everything in your new home came together so beautifully, and your tried to enjoy it as much as possible, even though you were incredibly tired, and your body was swollen from head to toe. Your belly had grown much bigger than you ever would have expected.

Willy was wonderful during your whole pregnancy, but he was especially attentive to you in the last month. He would make you dinner after work, and no matter how tired he might have been, he never let on to his exhaustion. He would even massage your feet before bed. His sweetness and generosity never wavered.

.......

The day finally came: the day that you and Willy became parents. He was by your side throughout the entire birthing process, encouraging you and thanking you for giving him a child. He told you he loved you over and over, and wiped the sweat off of your forehead.

Your midwife was stunned after you had your baby, because she noticed another baby coming.

A/n: I hope you all are having a great Christmas season and have a safe and happy new year! The next chapter should be better than this one. lol

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey

[kelppsstuff]

I NEED part two of that cheating Adam fic

That actually made me cry and I desperately want that asshole to get what he deserves

..but what if Lucifer got to wife? Obviously, our dear ruler of hell seems to still be attached to Lilith, considering the ring he's still wearing, so what do you think will happen if he meets reader?

Omggggg, I’m so glad you enjoyed it! And yes Adam shall get what’s coming! And I hope you enjoy this chapter as well! Make sure to take care of your self and have a good day! 💛

“How long.” Part two

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | ALT ENDING

Masterlist

Taglist: @leathesimp @need-a-life-or-grass @biggdaddylonglegs @lululucii @pawstrey @lanny-fanny223 @goseew @adamsfavoritesinner

—

You had spent the five months crying at Emily home. Lilies would show up, your favorite flower. It made your heart ache even more. No matter where you go you couldn’t get far enough away from him.

Sera walked into the guest room you were staying. She looked over you as she thought of her next words. She was sure you would take the job, but would this be better for you? She didn’t know.

“Adam gave the go ahead of princess morningstar’s hotel.” You looked up from under the covers, interested in what she had to say. “We will need someone to overwatch the hotel. No one wants to go and I thought I would ask you.”

You took a breath, but even that felt caged. You were happy Sera gave you this choice of a job. “I’ll do it. Thank you Sera.”

—

You packed all the necessary things, and waited for the portal to hell to open. When you did walk through the portal you looked up at the red sky. As if the clouds were full of blood.

You extended your wings and started to take off where you could see the ‘Hazbin Hotel’ stand. You didn’t want to walk and risk anything bad. Sure you can hide your wings, but not your halo.

When you landed in front of the door, you admit you did feel nervous. You knocked on the door and a woman who had blonde hair and pink rosy checks opened the door. “Uhhh Vaggie!” Her voice was light but strong. Very admirable it felt like.

“Yes?!” Another stern female voice called out through the hotel. “There’s a angel at out door.” She looked to be panicking, so you smile I hope it’ll ease her nerves. I heard running before I saw her face. “What do you want Extermination isn’t for another month.”

“I suppose I should explain now. Adam.” Fuck saying his name hurt. “Has given the hotel a go ahead. The head seraphim sent me to overlook it.”

(Your pov)

The blonde grew stars in her eyes. She grabbed my wrist and immediately started to pull me throughout the entire hotel. “I have to give you a quick tour for now unfortunately. But my dad’s on the way and when he gets here I’ll give you a better tour with him.” She showed me the bar, and lounge that was pretty much it until there was a knock on the door.

“Okay that’s my dad everyone!” Everybody started to get in formation it seemed like. I leaned over to the deer who started to walk into the entry way. “Who’s that girls name?”

He smiled wide and me. “Why Charlie my good fellow.” Charlie? As in Charlotte. As in Morningstar. AS IN LUCIFER?! Oh my god. Before I could panic the doors opened and a shorter man gave Charlie a hug.

“Oh Charlie it is so good to see you!” He spoke with a smile as he let her go. He smiled at him and showed case the entrance. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Confetti flew and conveniently it got all over me. Great. Charlie looked panicked for a second, but I payed no mind and I snapped my fingers, carefully getting rid of all of it.

Lucifer looked to the cat that was purring and walking through his legs. He bent down and had a baby voice. “Oh hey little Kiki.” Cute. He then looked to the two flying lambs. “Razzle n Dazzle. Aweee look how much you haven’t grown. Still fun size.” Can he be talking?

I turned my attention back to the deer who smiled menacingly towards the king of hell. I walked up to him and Lucifer started to check out the place. I placed my hand out to him and smiled. “My names Y/N.” The deer turned his head away from Lucifer and turned his smile to me, though it was less terrifying. “Alastor! Quite a pleasure darling, quiet a pleasure!” Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a few friends down here?

“I like your voice.”

“Yes, it’s quite perfect for my rad—“

“WHAT IN THE UNHOLY HELL IS THAT?!” I see our king has found the bar. Alastor smile tightened and he teleported through the shadows to where Lucifer was standing. “Just some of the renovations we had done. As a little color don’t you think?”

Lucifer eye brow rise as he asked, “and you are?” I walked over to one of the cookies as Alastor responded. “Alastor, quite a pleasure. You are much shorter than I expected.” I started to choke on the cookie. Bringing attention to me. “I-I’m fine.” I saw Lucifer eyes widen in panic. But he ignored me. For now.

“Is this the bellhop?” He pointed to the deer. “Of course not, I’m the host. You probably heard of me through my radio broadcasts.”

He put his hand to his chin and said “NOPE! I guess that’s why Charlie called in the Hazbin hotel. Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! It was actually my idea.”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Well it’s not very clever.”

“Ha! Ha! Fuck. You.”

This is exactly what I needed. Pure entertainment.

—

As we started to get our hotel tour, Alastor got held up by some cat, and Charlie got distracted with Vaggie. Giving Lucifer the perfect time to talk to me. “Why are you here? Are these people so dense they can’t tell your an angel?”

I raised my brow, I see why Adam said he was a dick. “If you must know, Heaven gave the go ahead to the hotel just today?” Lucifer eyes widened. “What? How?”

“I believe it was your good friend Adam who gave the order.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

“And are you one of his exterminator pet?” Asshole. “No I’m his wife. Well actually I don’t know? Am I still his wife?” I started to go off, talking to myself completely blocking out Lucifer. A habit I’ve always had.

“Adam re-married?” Now I seemed to have a bit more of his interest. “Why do you care? Trying to go 3 for 3?” I said sarcastically.

“Would you like me too?” We both stopped walking. My eyes widened and when I slowly turned to look at him I noticed his did as well. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean that! Well like not in a like ‘that would never happen way’ but more like ‘it came naturally and unintentionally way.’ And fuck I should stop talking now shouldn’t I—?”

“Yes.” I could feel blood rising to my cheeks, giving me a golden glow. His eyes narrowed to my golden hue cheeks and for a moment I swear his eye had a sparkle, even just a second.

“You bleed gold.” He spoke after a long silence.

“I do.” I am an angel.

“I did too, look at that, we have something in common!” I raised my brow, it was the same tactic he gave his daughter.

“Like how you and your daughter both like girls?” Now it was my turn to see his golden hues.

—

Lucifer had decided to stay in the hotel to grow closer to Charlie. During the duration of the last three weeks we had also gotten closer. I had explained to him that Adam and I were no longer together even though I still wore our wedding ring.

It had been three weeks since I had been in heaven. Three weeks since I entered this hotel. I hadn’t thought too much about Adam in my stay here. Though it appeared today was the day I broke tradition.

Me and Adam had spent years on years on years together. I missed his golden eyes, and I missed his stupid humor, and I had missed him. That made his betrayal all the worse. Every-time I missed him, the memory of him and Lilith came. It wasn’t fair to me. Why was I tormented because I was a faithful wife?

I suppose my saddening thought were clear on my face. “What’s wrong?” Lucifer asked, sitting on the bed next to me. We were in his room, he was making ducks while I became self-depressed. “It’s a long story.” He smiled in understanding, “good thing I have an eternity with nothing better to do.”

“You know me and Adam are no longer together.” He nodded his head at the un-new information. “But you don’t know why.” I cleared my throat and began to tell him. “Adam had cheated on me with Lilith for seven years. And he talks about how sinners could never come to heaven, and yet he let her through the gates himself.” I rushed out the words, but as Lucifer’s eyes widened I knew he heard me.

“Lil-Lilith is in heaven?” His voice broke. “Didn’t you know?” The whole reason I never mentioned her was because I had thought he knew all this time.

He shook his head as tears began to form in his eyes. He loved Lilith and he still does. I didn’t doubt for a second he needed comfort.

I wrapped my hand around him and brung him in for a hug. He clung to me and cried. The only word he spoke was ‘why?’. The same question I had asked since the minute I found out.

“DAD?!” Charlie knocked on the door frantically. We immediately situated ourselves and when he opened the door, we look good as usual. “Yes, Charlie?”

She was panting but her words came out clear as day. “The extermination is still on, and it’s happening next week!”

What the actual fuck?!

—

We got a meeting set up with Heavens high court the next day. I was surprised they allowed Lucifer through the gates as well. The only rule was people of heaven couldn’t know it was him, so he couldn’t go introducing himself as, ‘hi I’m Lucifer, ruler of hell. Your are?’

We walked behind Vaggie and Charlie as Emily and Saint Peter showed everyone around heaven.

Lucifer looked around all the building and shined a big bright smile my way. It was nice to see that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was so rare too. I was to busy talking with Lucifer I hadn’t even noticed we passed Adam and Lute.

(Third POV)

Adam spat out his drink as he saw Y/N and Lucifer walking smiling at each other. The fuck was HIS wife doing walking that fucking duck-Imp face?

“What the fuck is he doing here?” He asked Lute as if she had all the answers. “I don’t know what they’re doing here sir.”

“It doesn’t even matter, I’m fucking ending this shit now. No way is he getting her.” Adam went to go after them but Lute grabbed ahold of him. “Do you want a fight between first man and the devil in the middle of heaven?!” Adam didn’t even need to think about it the answer was yes.

“Better than waiting for the fucking extermination.” Lute was quick to sush Adam. “What was the extermination one rule?” Adam grounded out like a child. “No one but the exterminators can know about it.” He took a long sip of his drink before speaking up again. “Don’t fucking sush me bitch.”

A light formed behind him, revealing Sera. “You should listen to her more often Adam, maybe then you’d still have your wife.” Sera didn’t know the details only that Adam cheated and Lute tried to stop him. “Fuck Sera you can’t sneak up on a guy like that. Also don’t bring her into this.”

Sera rolled her eyes. “Lucifer set up a meeting for his misguided daughter. I want you to put an end to her silly beliefs.”

Adam shook his head to the taller angel. “No can do, I don’t want Y/N mad at me for the rest of eternity.” Sera glared down at the first man. “You’ll do this unless you want Y/N banished. With Lucifer.”

Rage came across Adam eyes at Sera’s threat, but his mask did a good job in hiding it. “I’ll handle it.” His voice was so cold, even Sera got nervous. She obviously didn’t mean she would actually banish Y/N but it was one of the only ways to get Adam to do his work.

— (Y/N pov) —

I laid on the bed as me and Lucifer walked in our shared room. We had gotten to rooms in the hotel. One for Charlie and Vaggie. The other for me and Lucifer. We wouldn’t be staying the night, so it wasn’t like we were sleeping in the same bed.

“She’s here, Y/N.” Lucifer voice filled the silence. “What should I do?” His voice was soft and his expression was delicate.

“You should go see her.” I may not like the woman but he still does love her. “If you don’t you may regret it.” His eyes drifted away from me and to the window. “Everything is so much different now. I wouldn’t even know where to look.” I couldn’t help him. I didn’t know where she lived. The only reason I knew Adam was with her was because of Lute. Though I swore I wouldn’t sell her out.

“Do you miss it here?” Dumb question, but a reasonable one to ask. “Yeah. I miss seeing the good.” I turned his head to me and looked into his beautiful crimson eyes. “You see it everyday in the mirror.”

I don’t know who leaned in first. I don’t know who kissed who first but I knew we were kissing. And I knew I liked it.

A knock pulled us away from each other I hurried to open the door, thinking Charlie needed something. But my suspicions were wrong as Adam walked past me and into the room. He looked to me and even with his mask on I could see the fury in his eyes. He turned to Lucifer and that when I saw it. My lipstick had smudge on his lips. My eyes widened as Lucifer stood up. Adam gave him one more glance, and I for sure thought he was going to try and kill him, but he didn’t. Instead he gave him a little paper as he turned his body to me and kept his eyes on me the whole time he spoke.

“That’s the address you’ll find Lilith.” Lucifer was about to speak up but Adam cut him off. His voice still calm as ever, but I knew the wrath behind his voice. “You don’t have long until court. I suggest you get a move on while I have a talk with my own wife.”

Lucifer looked to me and I nodded my head. He needed to see Lilith, to at least get closure. He gave one last glance to Adam and walked out the door.

“What do you want?” My voice was shaky even though I tried to harden it. “What do I want?” His voice still calm as he started to walk to me. “I want you back home. I want you back in my bed when I wake up. I want you at my concerts cheering me on again. I want your smile. I want every part of you.” He backed me into the wall and put his hands on my cheek. “And trust me my love. I will have what I want.” I closed my eyes as he rested his head against mine.

“Why are you here. I said I needed time and space.” My voice still in a whisper.

“I gave you six moths, and as for space, you want to hell. Not sure you can get farther than that.” He did have a point, but I still didn’t know how I felt anymore. “I came to tell you, that Sera wants me to end this hotel. At any cost.” The one thing I asked for is what he’s about to end.

“And you’ll just do it no questions asked? Of course.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I tried to move my head out of his hands but they tightened.

“Yes. No questions asked, because it’s your banishment on the line. I will face god himself for you. I would do anything to keep you happy and safe, so if I have to make you hate me while doing so? So be it.” He says sternly making sure to look in my eyes. Good talk for someone who cheated.

“You cheated. You don’t get to act like you care now.” I pushed him away and started to walk to the window looking out it, rather than him. “I do care. More than anything.”

“And while I’ve been away? How many vista have you given Lilith? Or any other girl for that matter?” He couldn’t go one day without getting his dick wet.

“Unless I went to the office, I’ve been at home. Ask Sera.”

“You cheated. YOU CHEATED! How am I supposed to forgive you for that?” Adam slowly shook his head. “And while you’ve been away, how many visits have you given Lucifer?” He had a right to assume considering my lipstick was still smudged, I’ll admit that.

“He treats me good!” He had became someone I could rely on. “I treat you good. Yes I fucked up. Not a day goes by that I don’t hate myself for it. And even if you do forget and forgive, I’ll still hate myself. I promise you, I feel more disgusted than you ever could.” He grabbed my hand and showed me my wedding ring. “But you see that babe? we promised through lows and highs we’d make it through. Together.”

I felt like crying, he had a point. We vowed to be together no matter what. But he was unfaithful, he broke those vows first. I couldn’t forgive that. Ever.

“We’ll talk again. I promise. I’ll see you in court.” He kisses my hand with my ring finger. “I love you.” And he walked out. Leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts.

Why did I miss Adam already?

How is Lucifer doing with Lilith?

Me and Lucifer kissed.

How will court go?

Can we win the trial?

Fuck what now?

—

HIIIIIIIII! So I will say that the first time writing this it got deleted. Sooo I’m sorry if it feels a little rushed. I had also gotten another request so I may come out with that one before the next and final part, or I may not. I really hope you enjoyed this part as I had a lot of fun writing it.

- kelp 💛

Taglist

[polakina]

intensified senses

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

rating: explicit

outline: being highly recommended by his lieutenants, miguel decided to recruit you into the spider society. wary of you at first, he kept a distance. but you were persistent on getting through the cracks of his stony exterior

warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, miguel being a sarcastic bitch, pining, flirting, masturbation (male), blindfolding, sensory deprivation, blowjobs, unprotected sex, riding

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist

II

He watched you from afar at first. Crouched from a high tower, dressed in inconspicuous clothing and hiding in plain sight. You came highly recommended. Jess and Ben spoke rather fondly of you, of your loyalty, bravery. You took care of your neighbourhood, of your city. And you were damn fucking good at it.

Miguel didn’t see it. He looked at you with a rather cold stare as you perched from a rooftop, your headpiece laid beside you as you looked out towards the streets. You crouched there with a bagel in one hand, iced coffee in the other. Your suit was all yellow, like the sun. The spider on your chest a deep orange. The sunset made it shine brightly. A pretty amber in the light. Miguel just sort of scowled at you. 

“What do you think, O’Hara?” Jess came through on his earpiece, crackly, but clear enough to understand.

“She’s…you think that she could join the society?” He asked incredulously. “She’s a kid!”

“She’s actually similar in age to you, just with a better skin care routine,” he heard her chuckle lightly.

“That’s funny,” he responded coolly. Sarcastically. As he usually did. But he trusted Ben and Jess’ judgement, and to be fair, he was trying to expand the spider society further. So perhaps you would be an ample addition, in his eyes.

-

You knew someone had been watching you for a while. You felt eyes on the back of your head. For what reason, you weren’t sure, but they didn’t pose a threatening feel. So you let them be.

It wasn’t until you felt their presence behind you that you felt that something needed to be done about it. You heard his footsteps quite a fair distance behind you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight. He was big. Very big. Putting your headpiece back on, you stood up straight and kept looking ahead of you. It was only when you felt him get a little closer that you sent your webs in his direction. You heard him grunt as he was webbed to the rooftop door, stuck in place. 

That’s when you turned around to face him. Glad that your face was covered, he wasn’t able to see the look of surprise on your face. The way your eyebrows raised or your mouth fell slightly open. Goddamn. He wasn’t exactly what you had expected to be following you all these weeks.

Dark curly hair. Reddish eyes. A waistline that would put any model to shame. The man was built like a brick wall, but with a face carved from a God or something. You blinked back into focus, not letting him distract you right now.

“Who are you?” You asked, trying to conjure a sort of authoritative voice to not seem so young. Or small. Which you were in comparison right now.

“That isn’t important right now,” he said, struggling against your webbing. “I need you to come with me. I’m recruiting you. That’s the reason I’ve come to find you. Not so we can chitchat and braid eachother’s hair.”

You laughed a little. Miguel ignored how his heart leapt a little at how pretty it sounded. “Wow you’re really good with your people skills. Has anyone ever told you that?” You walked a little closer to him, still hesitant. “Unless you tell me exactly who you are, and exactly what you’re doing in my city, I’m not going anywhere. And by the time that webbing’s structure decomposes enough for you to break free, you won’t find me again.”

He just sighed at you, rolling his eyes out of impatience. “Okay, I’m over this.” talons protruded from his hands in replacement for his fingers, and he sliced through your webbing. Shit, you put so much effort into that webbing too. He sauntered towards you, hips swaying as he looked down at you with a deeply disinterested glare. You backed up until your legs hit the edge of the rooftop, pinning you between him and the ground below. You could have just jumped. Leaned back until you fell from the roof and swung through the streets, far away from him. But you couldn’t. It was like you were frozen in place. “You’re coming with me. One way or another.”

You stepped up onto the ledge, almost as tall as he was now. “As much as I’d love to come back to what I assume is a cute little lair, I’m going to have to pass.” You fell backwards off the ledge and watched his eyes widen as he went to reach for you, but he wasn’t quick enough. Clearly his spidey senses weren’t kicking in today.

You fell, looking towards the ground as it got closer and closer to you. 

But you never did reach it.

It was a blur, a flash of coloured lights blinded you for a few moments. There was a pressure on the back of your neck, as though someone had grabbed you harshly, penetrating skin from the pain it inflicted.

Instead your body collided with a solid stone floor. Hard. you felt somethin crunch as your body hit the ground, sending shooting pains through your entire arm. Blinking your eyes a few times, you adjusted to the bright fluorescent lighting around you. Screens were put up on every wall, a large computer sat atop a much larger desk was raised above you.

“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing yourself off the ground. Turning slowly in a circle, you tried to gauge where you were, until you came face to face with him again. “You! Where the fuck have you brought me?” You started swinging at him. You don’t really know why. It was a defense mechanism, you guessed? But you swung at him nonetheless. Pointless as it was, it made you feel better.

He just huffed and shook his head, batting away your hands and feet as they came at him, as though they weren’t even hurting him. It wasn’t until he grabbed your wrist which you injured, feeling the dislocation in the bone. You hissed in pain, trying to pull away, to no avail. He said nothing, just snapping it back into place and your cry echoed throughout the room. 

“Asshole!” You cried out, turning away.

“You’re welcome.”

“I wouldn’t have even been hurt if you hadn’t have kidnapped me!”

“I told you I was recruiting you for something.” His voice was so plain, so boring, so calm. Not a smidge of emotion or humanity in it.

“You could have asked nicely! Maybe explained the situation before…teleporting me to your shitty office,” you breathed heavily.

“You didn’t give me a chance. This was the only way.” He turned towards the desk, making his way up to it. You followed, rolling your wrist to alleviate the pain. 

“So why am I here? And who exactly are you?” You walked to the desk, taking a seat in the chair and spinning in it until his face became blurry. You came to a sudden stop when his hands fell hard onto the arm rests, his face inexplicably close to yours. You held your breath as he scowled down at you.

“Get. Off. My. Chair.”

“Who. Are. You.”

He rolled his eyes. But it wasn’t he who answered your question. It was a woman. “Miguel, you’re back! And you brought company. So this is the Lemon Spider? I expected something…different.”

“Lemon Spider? That is not my name,” you chuckled, looking over to see a blonde woman on the screens.

“Well, LYLA is my name. And Lemon Spider suits you, so Lemon Spider is your name.” She smiled, her grin was big and bright.

“And you’re Miguel? I’m glad someone finally told me.”

Eventually Miguel explained why he’d brought you to him. The Spider Society. Hundreds of spiders from hundreds of different alternate realities protecting the canon events and ensuring nothing disrupted them. His lieutenants had recommended you after close observation of how you handled situations within your own universe. You were small but quick, good at getting in and out of places that others couldn’t fit. You had heart. You never acted out of anger, or revenge. Only when someone needed you, needed your help.

It was a noble cause. One that, of course, you would have signed up for yourself if Miguel hadn’t first brought you here against your will. The man really needed to work on his people skills.

-

Months later, you had worked your way up the ranks. A valued member of the society. Even Miguel was impressed. Not that he ever showed it. You’d even met some other spiders. Pav and Hobie being the ones you were closest with whenever you got a chance to see them.

But Miguel was always the one you wanted to see the most, but you tried to keep that your own little secret.

“So…how ya been?” You asked, spinning on the desk chair once again as he leaned over the desk beside you. He rolled his eyes once again, but his mean demeanour had slightly softened with you around over time. Even LYLA had noticed it, once asking him if he did in fact begin to soften towards you. She earned a low growl in response and never spoke of it again. 

“Busy.”

“As always,” you huffed, looking at the same thing he was, a screen with a lot of maps and circles and colours…you understood none of it.

“Shouldn’t you be working? Doing spidey stuff?” He asked, looking over at you, his eyes softening at the way you looked up at him. He brushed it off quickly though.

“My canon events are safe,” you assured. “Besides, I’ll be notified if anything canon related or otherwise is affected or in jeopardy. So until that happens, I have a clear schedule.”

He just looked away, scanning activity on the screen. “Well, that’s great,” he mumbled under his breath, sarcasm lacing his tone.

“Come on, I’m great company,” you smiled up at him.

“Uh huh.”

You sighed, leaning back in the chair, putting your feet up on the desk. “Well, you’d prefer me over Hobie, at least.”

He grunted, pushing himself off the desk and turning towards you. Grabbing both your ankles, he yanked them off the desk, pulling you closer to him, your legs either side of his body as the wheely chair rolled swiftly towards him. “Look, as much as I love the cute little attitude you seem to have,” he leaned closer towards you, his cologne filling your senses. “I have work to do. And you’re a distraction. So either be quiet, or go elsewhere, okay?”

Words escaped you. And Miguel realised exactly what he’d just said. He also realised he’d essentially caged his body between your thighs. You gazed up at him, he noted a little surprise in your eyes, as well as something else. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. Letting go of your ankles, he stepped away. You stood from your chair.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a distraction now, would I, O’Hara?” You asked, a little smirk playing at your lips. You patted his chest and walked away.

He hated that he watched you leave, completely ensnared by you as you left the room. 

-

You stayed at the base that night, knowing that Miguel had his room set up there, a few doors down from the meeting room. You planned to go back to your own dimension, but it was quite boring back there right now. So you hung out in the meeting room, suspended upside down from the ceiling. Tracking the activity of your own city, you were met with absolutely fuck all. No activity. No spikes in crime or anything altered on your own timeline.

Sighing, you dropped down to the floor, preparing to go back to your own timeline. You would have said goodbye to Miguel, but you weren’t exactly sure he wanted to talk to you right now.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard something. Your ears perked and the hairs on your arms stood up. It was coming from Miguel’s room. You shouldn’t have inspected, it wasn’t your place. But your feet took you there anyway. Outside his door, you pressed your ear up against it, listening intently. At first you thought he was communicating with someone. LYLA, perhaps. Until you heard something else. Groaning? Grunting, maybe. But then you heard moaning. And he was saying something. Your name. Your hand covered your mouth so that he wouldn’t hear you. But he sure as hell would have sensed your presence. Wouldn’t he?

You stepped back, knocking into the wall behind you. His noises halted almost immediately. Hearing his footsteps approach the door, you backed away quickly, but he opened the door before you were completely out of sight. His pupils were blown wide, his shirt discarded and his chest glistening slightly with sweat.

“I thought you’d left,” he said, his voice low, gruff.

“I stuck around, kept an eye on the screens for a little while,” you admitted. It wasn’t a lie, for the most part. “Thought you would have heard me, or known I was still here.”

He cocked his head in confusion. 

“Spidey senses? I always know when someone’s around,” you smiled. But he shook his head in disagreement.

“I don’t have those. Wasn’t bitten by a spider, you see,” he revealed, and your eyebrow quirked. “How long have you been stood out here?”

Your heart dropped. “Um…not long. Was just about to leave anyway, so you get back to…whatever it is you were doing. I’ll see you around, O’Hara.”

You turned to leave until his voice stopped you. “Or you could…stay?” You didn’t turn around at first, but you felt him come up behind you. Close. Very fucking close. His heat radiated onto your back. “I’ve been cold towards you, I know that. I haven’t meant to be.”

“So why have you been?” You spun on your heel, almost stumbling as you came into contact with his bare chest. But his hand on your waist caught you.

“If I let myself enjoy your company as much as I do, I’ll become distracted from my life’s work,” he let his head drop.

Confidence suddenly overtook you and you placed a hand on his cheek, tilting his head back up to look at you. “Sometimes a distraction is what you need to be able to do your job.”

He chuckled. The first time you’d ever seen him do that. “You saying I do my job wrong?”

“I said sometimes, O’Hara,” you smiled. “But maybe a distraction is what you need right now.” Taking his hand, you led him back to his room. You expected him to pull away, but he didn’t, he followed. Miguel shut the door behind him and your eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, the only light source coming from his desk light. His hands found your waist from behind you, his breath on your neck.

“A distraction sounds pretty good right about now,” he purred in your ear, kissing your neck softly. You melted into his touch, your legs becoming a puddle. He kissed down your neck to your shoulder and you turned your head, letting your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. 

This was the gentlest you’d ever seen him. Usually his walls were up, and he was cold and distant from everyone. But here…here he was entirely exposed. To you. You walked him slowly to the couch in the corner of the room, the backs of his knees hitting it before he sat down, his hands pulling you closer.

“You said you don’t have spidey senses, right?” You asked, standing before him. He looked up at you expectantly. 

“What are you getting at here, princesa?”

“Just something I want to try.” You pulled the thick ribbon from your hair that tied it up in a bun whenever you were out of your suit. Your hair fell down to your shoulders, falling in front of your face.

“Oh, we’re trying things? So early on?” He joked, a small smile in his voice.

“Oh shush, I think you’ll like it,” you held the ribbon in front of him and he realised what you wanted to do. He nodded, his trust put in you. Covering his eyes, you tied it around the back of his head. “Just have a little faith.”

“In you, I do.”

You knelt before him, so thankful he was just in sweatpants. You weren’t very good at handling belts. Wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants, you felt him tense up lightly. “Easy, O’Hara. Just relax, okay?”

You looked up to see him nod. Smiling, you continued, pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles. He’d opted to go commando under those pants, and you stifled a gasp at what awaited you beneath the fabric. 

Shit. you knew he was a big guy…but you didn’t expect him to be that big of a guy. Miguel’s cock sprang out of its confinement, hard, long and thick. For a moment you worried yourself that you wouldn’t be able to take all of him. Or even…most of him. But you were too pent up and needy for him that you pushed past it.

Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, Miguel shuddered at your touch. He didn’t want to admit it, but it had been a while for him. Having only his own hand to work with, he couldn’t fathom how good it felt to be your hand instead.

But fuck, the second he felt your mouth envelope his dick, he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his throat. You loved it, the raw feeling behind his groaning and whimpering. Taking him further in your mouth, you sucked slowly, deeply, your tongue circling the tip so his legs tightened under your hand where it laid, resting on his thigh.

You felt his hand travel to your head, fingers entangling in your hair and gripping it with a firm hold. He didn’t push, he just held you there. The more of him you took, the tighter his grip got. His panting and moaning was like music to your ears.

“Shit…shit…” he breathed, raising his hips up off the couch, his dick pushing deeper down your throat. He was about to come, on the verge of it, you could feel it. His head fell back against the top of the couch, his teeth gritted against each other as he felt the precipice of his orgasm fast approaching. “Wait, wait, wait.” He spoke quickly, racing through his words.

You did stop. Pulling away and looking up at him. “Are you okay?” You asked, worried you’d gone too far, too fast.

“I’m fine,” he panted, head tipped towards the ceiling. “But…” Miguel pulled down his blindfold so it hung loosely around his neck. He gazed at you, his eyes coated in a thin sheen, glossed over. “I’m not gonna be the only one who gets to feel this good though.” He pulled you up and onto his lap. You felt his dick twitch beneath you as your face was ever so close to his, inches away from one another. “So now it’s your turn, princesa.”

Miguel smirked, his hand sliding down the front of your pants, gliding under your panties and came into contact with your bare skin. Your breath shortened as his fingers drifted down to your pussy, already soaked from the moments previously, and he smirked at the wetness he felt there. “Already this wet, hmm? Guess it’s not going to take long for you to be able to take me, huh?” He was so smug. So confident. In any other instance you’d find it annoying, but right now you couldn’t have found it more attractive. All you could muster up was a quiet, desperate please.

He smiled, pushing a finger deep inside you and pulling a soft moan from you. God, he could listen to that on repeat for the rest of his life. Moving his finger in and out at a quickened pace, curving his fingertip to hit that sweet spot you could never reach yourself, he felt you clench around him, your eyes begging for more when your mouth couldn’t form the words. He happily obliged, adding a second finger. The palm of his hand grinding against your clit with the added pressure of his fingers fucking you was driving you to the edge quicker than you thought possible. 

He knew it too. Your eyes rolling back, your hips shifting to rock with the rhythm of his fingers inside you. You were close. 

“You want to come, angelita?” He asked, his words dripping with want, with need. For you. He watched you nod frantically. But he slowed his fingers, his other hand gripping your jaw gently, but firmly. “On my fingers, or on my cock, hmm?” He saw the way your eyes lit up at that proposal. “Oh, honey. I think I already know what you want.”

He didn’t even try and take off your pants, he tore right through them instead, his talons scraping against your skin, but never breaking your skin. Throwing your torn clothes across the room, he lifted you up so you hovered above him. Miguel grabbed his cock by the base, running it along your pussy, soaking the tip with your wetness. 

Words escaped you and your mind went numb when he first pushed his cock into you. At first it felt overwhelming, the size of him frying your senses and fogging your head. Only at about half way in, Miguel started to feel resistance, and the look of shock and the overwhelmed tint in your eyes showed him why. “Just relax, conejita. You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, one hand on your thigh and the wrapped around your back.

His praise and encouragement cleared your clouded thoughts. You nodded, taking your time and sinking lower and lower until you reached the base. Letting out a deep breath, you gave yourself a few moments to adjust. Miguel smiled up at you. “Atta girl,” he mumbled, a smirk on his lips. He shifted his hips, rising up into you, purposefully grinding his dick up into your soaking pussy. Fuck, he loved the way you bit your lip to stifle your noises as to not make too much noise. Not that anyone else was here anyway. He wanted to hear you. 

You started rocking back and forth on his dick, the tip hitting something devastatingly sweet every time and it sent shockwaves through your entire body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nails scratching into his back, digging crescent shaped indents into his skin as you rolled your hips quicker and quicker. Miguel’s hands both found their way to your hips, guiding your movements and controlling your speed. His head dipped down as he kissed your neck, taking your skin between his teeth and biting gently, sucking deep marks into your neck. 

His lips trailed down, passing your collar bones, down your sternum to your breasts. His tongue circled your perked nipple before he sucked identical purple marks into your breasts, kissing along to the other breast as he did, giving the same treatment to both. 

Mumbles and whimpers fell from your lips, flooding the room with your desperation for Miguel’s touch, for Miguel’s praises, for Miguel’s hands all over you. His fingers dug tighter into your hips, grinding you against him hard, his cock reaching the perfect places inside you to make you squirm, to make you cry out his name. 

“You gonna come for me, princesa? Hmm?” He asked, a smidge of cockiness in his tone. He was good. And he knew he was good. You couldn’t deny it, not knowing that even though you were already so overwhelmed by the size of him, mixtures of pleasure and pain that balanced one another out perfectly, you couldn’t deny that you weren’t already craving more of him. 

But the second he started raising his hips to meet yours, you lost it. Your head fell against his shoulder, and his lips attacked your neck, pressing soft kisses there, biting gently. His hand drifted between your bodies, putting pressure against your clit with his thumb. That’s when your body began to unravel, your senses skyrocketed. You gripped the back of his neck so tightly as you felt your orgasm growing closer, your thighs shaking and your movements started to falter in both speed and momentum. 

Miguel sensed it it too, his hands on your hips becoming the sole thing after a point, that kept you grinding on his cock. He was close too. But he held out with all of his focus. Wanting you to come for him first. Needing you to. “Come on, honey,” he purred in your ear, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You let out a small cry, Miguel’s name playing on your tongue. Your orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t gentle either, like it usually was whenever you touched yourself. This was powerful. This was like a tsunami. It tore through you, electrifying your veins and causing you to clench hard. Your thighs caged him, closing tighter around his body as you clung to him. You bit into Miguel’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, but it didn’t stop him from fucking up into you. He didn’t stop. Not until your orgasm had finally satisfied the both of you. Your body collapsed against him, your chest heaving as you tried to regain all of your breath, filling your lungs to their capacity.

“You okay, conejita?” He asked, raking his fingers up and down your spine, kissing the side of your head. He chuckled lightly as you just nodded, a quiet groan all you could muster up at an attempt for words.

You lifted your head, leaning back to look at him. A gasp escaped your throat as he shifted beneath you once more, his cock twitching. “You didn’t…” Your words trailed off as you looked fown for a split second.

Miguel shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” You asked, a mixture of curiosity and a little embarrassment lacing your tone. 

He smiled, leaning back, running his hands up and down your thighs. “You think I can only last one round, honey? I’m offended,” he laughed jokingly. Your eeys widened a little, and you were slightly concerned you wouldn’t be able to handle more right now. Not if it was as good as that. “Don’t look so afraid, baby,” he whispered, lifting you and your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you to the bed on the other side of the room, laying your down gently, your head settling comfortably into the pillows as he climbed on top of you, his body between your thighs. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Miguel, I don’t think you know the meaning of gentle.”

He matched your soft laugh with one of his own. Rolling his eyes, he leaned even closer to you, your lips almost touching. “I’ll try to be gentle. At first.” His eyes darkened in the dimmed room and your heart beat just a little faster. “But don’t think it’ll take me more than five minutes to fuck you into this bed until all you can do is scream my name.”

[ironunderstands]

God I love being correct (2.2 leaks incoming!!!)

“Jade saved Aventurine!!!” “Jade helped him out of the kindness of her own heart!!” “Jade is such a mother figure to Aventurine!!”

mmm yeah, definitely yup 100%

Honestly this fucking speaks for itself, and I’m so glad hoyo committed to the evil on her, she’s very compelling and that’s extremely cunty I must give her credit for it, but god do I absolutely despise the people who believe Jade and Aventurine have a healthy relationship, or that she “saved” him out of the kindness of her own heart or something.

To Jade, Aventurine is an investment, nothing more and nothing less, which is why she puts her faith in him, he’s a reliable business opportunity, but that’s not the same as caring about him personally and I really need people to get the difference

If Aventurine hadn’t proved himself useful to her, she would have left him to rot in prison or succumb to his death sentence, this isn’t saving, it’s exploitation.

Jade knows Aventurine couldn’t decline whatever offer she made, and anything is worse than death or slavery, the things he’s trying to escape, so she offers for him to join the IPC to make more money for them. That’s it, that’s all she wants, she doesn’t care about how bad being in the IPC is for Aventurine’s mental health, how he literally took on a suicide mission so he could escape being a stoneheart, how even if she “saved” him, his banner name is literally “gilded imprisonment” and his lightcone “inherently unjust destiny”, so damn she did a real good job at saving him and fixing his life, definitely didn’t just put him in a pair of gilded chains.

Also like can we talk about how weird Jades comment about his eyes were? Like it’s genuinely creepy to me considering Avens eyes are a) one of his biggest insecurities and b) people fetishize them, something which Jade knows and chooses to still comment about. I hate to say it, but I feel like if this was a male Jade saying that to a female Aventurine, yall would never let that slide and Jade would never beat the p3do allegations. Aventurine was likely a teenager/young adult in that scene, and either way there is a visible power dynamic between them (I mean Aven is literally in chains looking up at her), and I don’t think if the situation was flip flopped people would be treating Jade like some kinda hero. If they were the same gender I feel like people would be shipping them though 😭

So, yeah. Being correct feels amazing, pls use your brains and realize that just because one character sounds kinda nice to another, does not mean they actually care about them or are a good person!

[sadesluvr]

Hi, if you're fine with it could you write doctor!William and patient!fem!reader and William fucks the reader in her hospital bed after lying to her about something. What it is, up to you. Happy holidays!

A/N: Thanks for the respectful ask Anon! Happy new year!!🎉 The irony of this was that the day before I got this req I’d literally read a fic for another fandom that was similar to the concept lmao. I’m sorry it’s taken a while, thanks for being patient! :)

WARNING: Reader is a little naive, or has amnesia (You chose). Below the cut will contain dub-con, manipulation and abuse of power. Minors DNI, and read at your own discretion. 

“Dr Afton…Am I going to be okay?”

“Of course, sweetheart. You’re under my care after all…”

You’d come to Dr Afton a few weeks ago, concerned with the fact that you couldn’t seem to fall asleep. You’d tried essential oils, music, even pills - all to no avail. Now, not only could you not sleep, but you were even more tired than before, becoming no stranger to headaches and irritability.

William had almost cum in his pants when you’d come back to him, eyes heavy and on the brink of tears; desperate and pleading for him to ‘fix’ you. In that moment, he almost felt bad that he’d given you stimulants, the same given to people who suffered from narcolepsy.

Today you were lying flat on the sterile medical beds, face up as your legs were spread in stirrups. Dr Afton had requested you to take off your underwear, and your pussy was exposed to the cool of the room. You were a little embarrassed, but luckily a sheet was draped over the bottom half, so you couldn’t see the man’s face.

“What is it?” you asked slowly, hearing as the man clicked his flashlight off. He sighed and hummed, and you’d come to know that it wasn’t one of promise.

“Forgive me for asking, sweetheart, but…How many sexual partners have you had?” he said, clearing his throat.

You swallowed.

“Um…One?” you said unsurely, biting your lip. “It was a while ago…On prom night,”

“Hm,” William said, and the corners of his lips twitched into a smirk. He didn’t know how you’d made it through three years of college without sex, but he was certainly glad. “I think I’ve found the source of your problem…”

“Really?” you squealed, and William adjusted his glasses in anticipation. Even though he’d locked the door, there was still a risk. If a nurse was to try and wander in, it would certainly ring alarm bells. He’d have to make this quick.

“Uh-huh,” he sang, and you were pleased to hear the glee in his voice. Dr Afton took his job so seriously! “Sweetheart, the source of your insomnia isn’t from the head - well, not directly - but your hormones. Most specifically, your endocrine system,”

“Oh,” you said. You remembered that stuff from high school. But how did that have anything to do with sleeping?

William sighed.

“The secret to a good night's rest is simply through achieving orgasm. You haven’t had sex in four years - and I assume you don’t masturbate - and your hormones are all messed up because of it. Upon reaching orgasm, we release oxytocin - the happy hormone - which in turn makes us relaxed, and then sleepy. Not to mention the physical movement that comes with sex,”

You were in shock. How could it have been so simple? How were you going to start having these, let alone every night so that you could sleep?

“Dr Afton, I –”

“No worrying about it, darling,” he hummed, beginning to shush you. “I’ve got just the thing…”

He was oh-so quiet as he zipped down his pants, his already hard cock jutting out of the hole. Taking off his gloves, he gave himself a few languid strokes before placing a hand on your knee, peeking over the cloth to get a glimpse at you. You were staring up at him with curious eyes, squirming slightly under his cold hands. It was different without his gloves.

“I’m just going to run a few tests, okay?” he smiled, blue eyes wide and sparkling. “It may hurt, and it might feel a little uncomfortable, but it’s going to help, okay? Call my name if you want something, alright?”

You nodded.

“W-What is your name?” you said, suddenly shy. Calling a doctor by their first name felt strangely intimate. 

“William,” he said, nodding at you before he disappeared back under the sheet, placing his hands on your thighs to signal for you to spread them apart. As you did, he lined his cock up with your entrance, taking a moment to rub his nub; pink and leaking with precum, along your folds. He let out a low groan as he felt you tremble.

“Just one of my tools, baby,” he assured you. “Don’t worry, it’s sterile, of course,”

You shut your eyes and scrunched your nose at the feeling. Whatever William was using was warm, slightly sticky and thick, yet it was making you feel good. You felt your thighs begin to quiver in anticipation, a hot, pulsing sensation rushing to your privates, in turn making it easier for William’s tool to glide across your pussy.

He hummed at the feeling of you growing wetter. Slyly, he placed his thumb onto your clit, beginning to rub it in circles as he pushed his head into you without warning, making you gasp. He hissed as he sank deeper into you, hands gripping the styrofoam of the chair, his body looming over you slightly. He could see the top of your face, eyebrows furrowed to the ceiling at the strange sensation, your lips slightly parted and wet. He longed to be able to kiss them; to hold you a little closer as he took all of you, but time was of the essence.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he smiled. “Almost there…”

He grumbled, choking back a moan as he bottomed into you, glancing down to admire your skin-on-skin contact. You were so fucking tight, and wet, that he was surprised he hadn’t broken you - much more he cum right on the stop.

“W-William…” you moaned, covering your mouth at the whorish sound. “It’s — The tool…It’s big…”

“Does it feel good?” was all he said, and he smirked as you nodded, a small whine escaping your mouth as you did. The man chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “This is gonna put you to sleep baby, I promise,”

He withdrew his hips before slamming them back into you, your head lolling against the rest. The sudden pressure was alarming, but it felt amazing, and as if a miracle had taken place you could feel your body relaxing already. Your breasts moved with the contact under the plastic garment, and you reached up to cup them, in turn making you feel even better. William grinned, watching in awe as your pussy took him completely, keeping up with the frantic movements from his greedy thrusts. He wished you were a virgin, that he could’ve popped your cherry right there and then, hugging and comforting you at the fact that you’d bled. Still, you only having one man (boy was the far more accurate term) was far better than two, and he could tell that you moaned and gripped him that this was what you were missing in your life. Desperate to bring you to your peak, he rubbed your clit eagerly, the feeling of his throbbing cock sliding in and out of you effortlessly bringing you to a point of overstimulation. Your raw nipples rubbed against the material of your gown, creating a friction that both pleasured you and made the nubs harden further, practically displaying themselves for William. A thumb on your clit turned into an index finger in your pussy, gently moving against the man’s own base. William’s grunts, the filling, yet rhythmic sensation and the build up of tears in your eyes at your sheer emotion was building up to too much.

It was bittersweet agony when you came. You didn’t know for how long, but you knew you blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as your chest heaved and legs quivered. For a moment, William was nothing, just a figment of your imagination, but a wet, sticky sensation filling your cunt and dripping down your thighs brought you back to life.

Your limbs felt lifeless, eyes heavy, and a warm feeling spread across your body. Dr Afton had been right all along.

“I hope you feel better, sweetheart,” he said, words nothing but a jumble in your brain as you came down from your high. “Do note that this is only a temporary fix – I’ll need to see you in three days for an immediate checkup. From there, we’ll need to work out a year-long schedule. It’s imperative I monitor your progress.”

[ditzyredrobin]

Tim Drake (The Spleen-Less Wonder)

My second Bad Things Happen square in as many days because I can’t control myself. 😅

Prompt: Bundled Up in Blankets

-

“Jason, put me down, now!” Tim snaps, trying to wrestle his way out of the blanket burrito he is currently rolled into. He’s currently slung over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and pissed.

Well, beyond pissed.

Pissed doesn’t even begin to encapsulate the raging fury he’s currently feeling, being carried around like an oversized toddler. He kicks hard at Jason’s chest with his slippered feet, trying to gain some leverage to escape.

Jason isn’t even phased at his wriggling and kicking, he just keeps walking up the driveway. “What did I tell you, kid? Fuck around and find out.”

“It’s not that big a deal, seriously. It’s just a cold.”

It was. He hadn’t even broken 101 degrees yet which was barely even a fever and a total win in his book. If he was careful and took his antibiotics (which he had been, there was a timer set in his phone and everything) it would go away in no time.

“Like I said, you fucked around and now you’re going to find out. You could have stayed home but nooo. Tim Drake, the spleen-less fucking wonder, decided tonight was as good a night as any to hit the streets, never mind the sleet and windchill.” Jason mocks deadpan, renewing his grip. “Suck it up, buttercup. You did this to yourself. Deal with it.”

Tim rolls his eyes, “It’s Wayne.”

Jason pushes right through the front door to the manor without knocking. “What is?”

“My name. It’s not Drake, it’s Wayne.”

When he had been adopted, he’d officially become a Wayne. When he had taken over as CEO of Wayne enterprises after Batman had been lost in time, it only renewed that belief. He was a Wayne through and through and if the tabloids caught wind of his being carted around by strange men, he was going to have to send his publicist an apology bouquet again. And maybe a bottle of wine.

As much as Damian may have been opposed to it, he was a Wayne.

“Always a dramatic little shit,” Jason muttered under his breath. “Look, I don’t give a fuck if you’re a Drake or a Wayne or something else entirely. What I do give a fuck about is someone ruining the lead I’ve been working for over a month because he decided not to stay in bed like he was supposed to.”

“And I’m the one being dramatic?”

“Yeah, you are. You know, I’m really glad you’re finally taking the time to self reflect. You should try journaling or some shit when you’re feeling big feelings instead of passing out and nearly braining yourself.”

Really, it hadn’t been that bad. He just needed a minute to sit and then he would have been fine. If Jason hadn’t overreacted, he would not have almost lost his lead.

“I did not. I’m fine. Now can you put me down?”

“You passed right the fuck out, Replacement. That sounds pretty bad to me.” Jason says but doesn’t budge.

“Did not.”

“Did to.”

Tim groans, giving one last weak kick. This was getting him nowhere fast other than wanting his bed. The DayQuil and Red Bull were starting to wear off and the drowsiness was setting in again to bone deep exhaustion. The kind that makes him want to curl up for the next 24 hours and just sleep.

Not an option, unfortunately. He had a board meeting in just over six hours. If he manages to go to bed right now, he should still have time to get in a couple of hours of sleep before he needs to get ready.

“Bruce! Get out here and take care of your belongings.” Jason calls into the otherwise silent manor. It was just after six am meaning Bruce wouldn’t have been in bed for very long.

Tim grimaced at the way Jason’s voice echoed through the halls. If Jason’s complete disregard for the alarm didn’t wake him up, his shouting definitely did. “You really don’t have to do this.” He beds quietly, like that would help matters at all.

One could hope.

“Like hell I don’t.” Jason’s snaps back and opens his mouth like he’s going to yell again when Bruce comes running around the corner.

His eyes are panicked and he’s dressed in a robe, the tie is caddywhampus, and honest to god fuzzy bunny slippers. “Jay, what's wrong?” It takes him a long moment to process what he’s holding. “Is that-?”

“Yours.” Jason finishes, meeting Bruce half way. Without warning, he dumps Tim unceremoniously off his shoulders, earning him an indignant squawk.

If it had been anyone other than Bruce, Tim would have worried, bundled up so tight, he couldn’t stop himself before he hit the ground. But this was Bruce after all.

He caught Tim swiftly before he hit the ground, cradling to his chest. “Tim? What’s going on?”

Jason rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “Next time, take care of your little birds, or I’m not giving them back. We don’t have any more mishaps do we?”

Bruce grimaces, tightening his grip on Tim, pulling him in just a little closer. “What happened? I thought he was supposed to be in bed last night.”

“He’s here too, you know.” Tim uttered but neither Bruce or Jason didn’t acknowledge him.

“Apparently someone failed to tell him that because one minute he was being an annoying little shit and the next he tried to pass the fuck out in the middle of an op. One I’ve been working for months, mind you.” Jason says. “All I know is if he fucks up like that again, it’ll be on your head. Capeesh?”

Bruce nods solemnly, looking pained. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” Jason says, trying to sound annoyed but there was a fondness in his voice. “Seriously, don’t mention it. Just do better. The kid is an idiot with the self preservation skills of a wet paper bag.”

Bruce sighs, “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.” And in a small voice adds, “You know you can stay too. You’re welcome home anytime, Jaylad. Alfred misses you, I miss you.”

“You know this isn’t my home, Bruce. I only came back for the kid.” Jason turns back to the door.

“Maybe so but Alfred is making pot roast on Sunday.”

Jason freezes for a moment. “I’ll…think about it.”

Bruce smiles softly, “I look forward to it. Goodnight, son.”

Jason waves him off and leaves, closing the front door behind him, muttering under his breath. Something about Tim and Bruce not being his dad and roast beef sandwiches.

With Jason gone, the entirety of Bruce’s attention is turned to Tim, examining him with big, blue eyes and a kicked-puppy look. “Did you really almost faint? Be honest with me.”

Tim looks away, feeling his cheeks flush. “Maybe? It really wasn’t that bad. I’m just tired.”

Bruce sighs again (because his sons will be the death of him) and starts towards the cave. “You could have gotten seriously injured if Jason wasn’t there.”

“I know.”

He did. There was just so much to do, he didn’t have time to sit down and rest like a civilian. Crime was an ever present entity—if he didn’t help, people were injured and bodies of the innocent filled the morgues. The bodies of good people with lives and hopes and families and dreams.

What use was he if he couldn’t help?

“Do you, Tim? What would’ve happened if you were by yourself? What if your cold gets worse or turns into pneumonia again?”

“I know,” he says again in a small voice.

He really, truly did, but crime stopped for no one.

Bruce’s sighs exasperated, “You’re benched and staying here until you’re better where Alfred and I can monitor you.”

No, no, no, no, no! He can’t—he won’t.

“You can’t, please, I can’t.” Tim begs.

“You can and you will. I will also be handling the board meeting that mysteriously disappeared from my calendar.” Bruce says, giving him a knowing look.

Tim grimaces, “You noticed?”

“I noticed.” Bruce confirms.

He’s Batman. Of course he noticed.

“And there’s no way I can convince you to change your mind?”

Bruce shakes his head, carrying him not back up the stairs to his room, but the clock and the cave. “Not a chance, bud.”

There was no escaping now, not when Bruce’s mind was made up. If they were heading to the cave, where Alfred must have already been waiting, no doubt with an endless supply of warm blankets and IV fluids. He was sure there would be chicken soup later when it was closer to any normal person's time of day.

Tim leans his head back against Bruce—his father’s—shoulder, letting his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” It’s a small thing but Bruce hears him and hugs him a little closer.

“I know you are. Let’s get you to bed and later we’ll have a long conversation about self care and boundaries, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, already half asleep. He didn’t want to but it was unavoidable. Now he would focus on the gentle sway as he walked, the thrum of his heart in his chest. “Hey dad?”

“Hm? What's up, champ?”

“I love you.”

Bruce chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of his hair. “I love you, too.”

[f1goat]

the race winner x lando norris + part 2

in which you see your ex best friend again after he cut of contact between you two.

not proof read - PART ONE

sunday evening

“It’s insane how much I’ve missed you,” Lando tells you for the millionth time. Since he has ben cleared from the medical center, he has been by your side. He skipped all the media duties, just to be with you. You told him multiple times that you could wait, but he didn’t let you wait. It took him only a few minutes to get you inside of his rental car to get to his hotel together. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you tell Lando again. 

Lando smiles at you. You know he still needs to explain everything, but you are just glad that he’s back at your side. Together you’re sitting in his hotel room. Lando pulls you a bit closer to himself, draping his arm around your shoulders. You enjoy his movement but you know that you still need to talk to him before you can fully close this weird chapter. 

After Lando told you he needed space from you, you were heartbroken. The first days you didn’t come out of bed. You were a complete mess. You tried contacting him for an explanation, but you were quick to find out that Lando blocked you on everything. Max helped you a lot, he kept telling you that there was probably a logical reason behind it. But you didn’t knew. You doubted yourself. It didn’t help that you are also in love with Lando. You have been forever. You even thought that he maybe found out and that that was the reason. But Max made sure you dropped that thought. 

Now while finally sitting next to Lando again, you can’t help yourself and feel a few tears roll over your cheeks. It’s insane. You thought things would always be unsolved. Now you know where it came from. It wasn’t your fault. 

“Come here,” Lando tells you softly. He pulls you even closer to himself. You let your body fall against Lando. You lean on his chest while he swipes away a couple of your tears. It’s no use, new ones are forming quickly. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lando says, “so so so sorry.” You hear his voice crack a bit. When you look up at him, you notice that Lando is crying as well. The sight of him this sad, makes you cry even harder. You can’t stop yourself from sobbing loudly. Tears are streaming down your cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer towards him. He hugs you tightly. You barely hear him, but you swear that he’s still apologizing. “So sorry,” you hear him muttering. 

“Why me?” You doubt if Lando hears you correctly. When you want to repeat your question, Lando is already looking up at you. You conclude that he did hear you, but he needs some time for his answer. You know you’ve asked Lando the same question before, but this time you won’t walk away without an answer. 

Lando sobs a bit as well. He tries to make something clear, but the words are coming out as nothings. You wait for him to relax. Slowly you caress his back. 

“It was Zak,” Lando then tells you. “But I shouldn’t have listened to him. I never listened, but that day.. It was so fucking bad.” 

You wait for Lando to continue. 

“Zak always tells me I’m not focused enough,” Lando explains. He talks a bit slower to help himself with the control over his own voice. “He thought it was you,” Lando continues. “He always talked about you being a distraction, but I didn’t do anything about it.” 

You don’t understand Zak. Why would you be more of a distraction then his other friends? 

“I always told him you were not,” Lando tells you, “but he didn’t really believe me. I guess he has his reasons, since he had some valid points sometimes. But still. He told me to cut ties with you for a while, so I could regain my focus on racing.” 

“Valid points?” You ask surprised.

“Every weekend you weren’t around..” Lando starts doubtingly, he wants to explain himself as good as he can but he isn’t sure if he wants to confess his feelings to you. Yet. He just got you back, what if he will lose you again when he tells you? “Uh, I was in a really bad mood,” he continues, “and I was always busy with planning time with you. Texting you, thinking about when I saw you again or FaceTiming.” 

“Oh.. I didn’t realize that,” you respond, “I never noticed..” 

“It’s not your fault. I did all that,” Lando quickly speaks up. 

“Maybe we can work on it?” You suggest. 

“Yeah, we will see,” Lando shrugs, “I want as much contact with you as possible.” 

“But why did you cut all contact?” You ask further, “What happened that day?”

Lando stays quiet for a bit. He thinks about all the possible answers. Can he tell you everything? He thinks about his own feelings that day. He was busy with the disappointing result, but he was also thinking about you all the time. Zak told him before the race and after the race that he should regain his focus or he would never win a race. The only way to regain his focus according to Zak was cutting of the contact with you. 

“It was bad,” Lando sighs. “Zak visited me before the race. He told me I could never be a race winner if I didn’t regain my focus. According to him it was all you. It wasn’t new that he said things like that, but he kept repeating himself.” Lando takes a deep breath. “Then you came to my drivers room. Zak his words were still in my head and that race was so awful. I just lost my ability to think straight. I could only think about winning a race someday.” 

He takes another short break again. 

“If I think back at it, I don’t even know what I told you anymore and how I said it. I know this isn’t a solid reason, I shouldn’t have taken Zak his words this serious, but I was so hurt after the race. I didn’t think straight.”

“Relax Lan,” you tell him, “I forgive you.” 

You don’t know when you made the decision to forgive Lando this fast, but you don’t feel any regret when you tell him those words. Lando is quick to look up at you, focusing his gaze on you. You feel the well known fluttering in your stomach when he looks at you like that. Fuck. Maybe you should talk to him about that as well? 

“Are you serious?” Lando asks you. 

You nod. You open up your arms again to hug him. 

“As if I can life without you any longer,” you tell him. It’s a bit jokingly, but you’re also honest. Last months were a mess, you can’t function properly without Lando. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Lando tells you after a while.

“To bed?” You ask him surprised, “My bed is in a different hotel.”

“Aren’t you staying?” Lando asks, “We always sleep together at race weekends.” 

You smile, “Let’s go to bed then.”

thursday - silverstone 

“So you weren’t kidding,” Zak remarks, “She’s back.” 

“And she stays,” Lando comments harshly.

“I can take her paddock pass away,” Zak goes on. 

“I can stop racing for McLaren,” Lando responds without even thinking about it.

“You can’t, you have a contract till 2025,” Zak throws back. 

“Say one more bad thing about her and you’ll find out how quick I can leave.”

“As if you would. That could mean the end of your career.”

“Zak, I swear to god don’t push me. She’s here. She will be here every race that she wants to be here and you won’t do shit about that.”

After saying those words Lando walks away from his team boss. He is quick to find you in the paddock. Before he shows you that he’s here, he takes a bit of time to look at you. It’s unfair how beautiful you look. He can’t help himself. Every time he sees you, he’s reminded of the fact he still needs to tell you about his feelings. Maybe he dares this weekend. 

“Hey baby,” he greets you while sliding an arm around your shoulders. Together you walk in the paddock. Lando is on his way to the media pannel, after missing it last week, and he will take you with him gladly. 

Everything between Lando and you is back at how it was. Sometimes when you think about it, it already feels like you’re in a relationship with each other. You share beds. He’s always giving you cute pet names, like baby or babygirl. The two of you spend all your free time together. it’s not your end goal, but you’re glad with everything you already have. 

Together the two of you walk towards the media pannel. You always enjoy watching the interviews. 

+++

“So Lando, after your crash from last week we didn’t saw you in the media pannel? Did you have to stay the night after crashing?” 

You already expected a lot of questions for Lando since he missed them last week. You’re curious about his reasons. What will he tell them? 

“No, I was cleared pretty quick,” Lando tells the interviewer, “but I had some things to do after which were more important.” 

“What things?” 

You can’t say you’re surprised by the question. 

“I just crashed, I had some realizations after. Those things I needed to do, I won’t tell you more about it.” 

“What caused your crash?” 

“I wasn’t focused,” Lando tells honestly, “So I made a mistake.” 

“We saw Y/N in the paddock this morning again after missing her for some months, what happened between you two?” 

You gasp. Since when are reporters asking questions like this? This is way too personal. You notice that Lando doesn’t even flinch because of the rude question. 

“That’s the more important thing I needed to do. I think you can ask Zak more questions about that later. Maybe we should get back to talking about the upcoming race?” Lando responds. 

“One more question for you Lando,” the same reporter speaks up, “Are you dating with Y/N? Do we have a new wag?” 

“I don’t think that’s a question about racing,” Lando jokes, “but we’re still really close, just like before.” 

You notice the way Lando doesn’t answer the question. Just like he did before. He never says that he is single or taken. He always says that he’s close with you, nothing more or less. 

saturday - silverstone

“Oh my god Lan!” You can’t help yourself and scream those words out. “That was amazing!” 

Lando pulls you close to himself. He hugs you tightly. He has never gotten quicker out of his car to run towards you. He’s more then happy with himself. Tomorrow he can start from the front row. He almost got the pole position as well. That would have been amazing as well, but still p2 is already amazing. 

Lando almost kisses you. When he looks in your eyes and sees the proud look you’re carrying he can barely stop himself from kissing you. Fuck. This is getting out of hand. He needs to tell you soon. He hides his face in your neck. 

“You did so well,” you continue, “fucking second place. That’s amazing.” 

Lando smiles at your words. He missed this. He missed you. The best part of getting out of the car is always having you there for him. If the race went bad, you always try to comfort him and if it went well you’re here to celebrate with him. 

“I’m so proud of you.”

+++

“Congratulations Lando!” The presentator greets him enthusiastic, “That’s an amazing result. How did you experience it?” 

“The car was flying,” Lando exclaims happily, “Everything went well. I hope we can keep this up tomorrow and finish somewhere on the podium.” 

“So you found back your focus after last week?”

“Yeah,” Lando confesses with a small smile, “I’m fully focused on getting the best results.” 

“What changed with last week? Are it the upgrades on the car?”

“Of course we did some major upgrades which really pays off,” Lando says, “but it’s also my own mentality.”

“And what upgrades did that get?” 

“My good luck charm got back.” 

sunday - silverstone

“So when are you telling her?” 

“Telling her what?”

“Don’t act stupid Lando,” Max says, “We both know I’m asking you when you’re going to confess your feelings.” 

Lando sighs. “I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want to cause other drama between us. I just got her back.”

“I don’t think it will end that badly,” Max reacts, “Just tell her mate, I think you’ll be relieved by the end of it.” 

+++

The race is getting close to ending. Your heart is beating faster then ever before in your chest. Lando is trying to hold back Lewis Hamilton. Lando his tires are worser. You can only hope for the best. Every move they make you’re gasping. You’re watching from the McLaren garage, you keep on hoping that you will move to the podium in a few laps. You can’t wait to see Lando on the podium again. 

“I think we need to talk.”

You almost jump up when you hear those words. You don’t have to look up to know who’s talking to you, but you still do. Of course it’s Zak himself. 

“I think so too.”

You decide to keep yourself together. You don’t have to scream at Zak for everything he ruined. You just need to stay calm. 

“You’re a distraction for him,” Zak tells you. 

You watch how Lewis almost passes Lando. It’s a close one. Lando barely stays in front of him. 

“I don’t want you holding him back. I can’t imagine that you’ll want that yourself? Lando is world champion material, but he can’t have distractions around him. He needs to focus on racing,” Zak continues. 

You don’t look away from the screen. Lewis is making himself ready to try again. Fuck. You’re praying for Lando to stay in front of him. 

“So, what do we need to do to make sure you won’t distract him anymore?” Zak asks you.

“Are you asking me how much money you need to give me for leaving Lando alone?” You ask back. You don’t know if you understood, but according to you it seemed like that was what the man asked you. 

“Yes. Or do you want anything else?” 

“I want you to fuck off.” 

“Oh come on, everyone can be bought.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Who does this man think he is? 

“Listen Zak, I’m not leaving. This trick isn’t working. I’m here for Lando and when he will chose a team that will build him an actual car from day one, I’ll be there for him. If he choses to keep driving for you for the rest of his life, I’ll be here too. I love him.”

“You distract him.”

“Please stop whining in my ear,” Lando’s radio message is coming in quite loudly. “Can’t you get y/n in here?”

“You want y/n?” His engineer asks. 

“Yeah. I need to focus. Let her talk to me.” 

You laugh right in front of Zak his face while walking towards to board radio. “Such a distraction,” you tell Zak, “but who does he need to focus? Oh me, the distraction.” 

“Y/n,” Lando his voice is even harder now you’re wearing the headphones. 

“Hi Lan,” you react, “What do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t care. Please just talk to me.” 

“I think you can hold him off,” you tell Lando. 

“You think I can hold off a seven time world champion with these tires? Did you notice he’s on softs?” Lando asks you sarcastic. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Didn’t I?”

You hear Lando laugh in your ear. 

“Come on Lan, just keep fighting. You’re doing great! He can’t push all the way to the finish like this. Just focus.” 

“You think I can do this?”

“I know you can.”

You fall silent for a bit while watching Lando block Lewis again. You don’t want to distract him, but you don’t know what to do. What does he want? Do you need to keep talking? 

“Keep talking,” Lando begs you. 

“Okay,” you say softly. “I can gossip for a bit. You know this girl from my work, yeah? She and that terrible boyfriend finally broke up!” 

You keep on talking about silly things that happened to you and your surroundings for a bit. Lando keeps fighting Lewis and he is still driving in front of him. 

“I think he’s given up Lan, he doesn’t have DRS anymore.”

“Let’s go out for dinner after the race,” Lando says after a while. He’s almost done. Two more laps to go. 

“I think you’ll be busy with celebrating your podium,” you react grinning. 

“We’re going out for dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply this time.

“It’s a date.”

A date? What did just happen?

+++

Lando can’t describe everything he’s feeling at the moment. He notices Max standing close to him while he’s still sitting in the McLaren. He can’t believe it actually happened. He finally got a podium this season. It feels insane. First he got you back and now a podium. Finally everything feels right again. He gets out of his car. His only thoughts are going to you. The way you helped him with talking about nonsense over his radio. He never felt this focused before. He fought off Hamilton. That’s amazing. And it’s even more amazing because of the tire disadvantage he had. He walks - or better say runs - towards his team, but he searches for you. Are you also here? Different team members pat his back, his helmet and everything else. 

Then he spots you. 

Lando walks away from his team members after telling him multiple thanks again. He smiles. Quickly he pulls off his helmet. In the mean time he walks closer to you. 

You. The one who’s wearing a piece of his newest merchandise, even though you find the color hideous. He feels proud. He can’t stop thinking about the way you helped him and the way you’re looking at him right now. It feels amazing. 

Before Lando knows it, he’s standing in front of you. 

“I’m so proud of you!” 

The words mean everything to him. He wants to say thanks, but somehow his words get twisted up inside his brain and on his tongue. 

“I love you.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? 

Before he can progress what he just did and how he ruined everything again, you’re talking to him. 

“Then kiss me.”

Lando has never put his lips faster on someone then now. He pulls you as close as himself as he can manage. Stupid fences in between. Your soft lips are bringing him in some sort of trance. How can everything feel so right with you? He has kissed people before, but it was never like this. This is something else. Something completely new. This is how it must feel when you kiss someone you actually love. 

When you pull back Lando his trance ends slowly. He’s still processing everything that just happened. Did you actually tell him to kiss you? What if he heard wrong. He’s almost about to apologize, but you’re speaking again. 

“I love you too by the way,” you tell him with a small smile plastered on your face.

Lando lets out a relieved sigh. 

This is the best day ever.

“But I think you need to get your trophy now,” you tell him with the same cute smile. 

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He turns around to go on with everything that comes with a podium. He turns back one more time and looks at you. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

You show him another smile and blow him a kiss. 

Best day ever, he thinks again.

[fanofstuff01]

HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

[a-kaash-me-outside]

a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time. 

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall. 

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes. 

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you. 

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them. 

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.  

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?” 

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head. 

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek. 

“you sure are,” he says, warmly. 

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.  

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality. 

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second. 

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout. 

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you. 

and you still don’t feel like a guest. 

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine. 

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass. 

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own. 

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine. 

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch. 

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?” 

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’” 

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest. 

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper. 

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect. 

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more. 

“you are,” you argue. 

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day. 

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting. 

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere. 

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.” 

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.  

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree. 

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh. 

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back. 

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head. 

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement. 

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be. 

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies. 

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand. 

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down. 

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind. 

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall. 

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can. 

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark. 

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer. 

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours. 

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep. 

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again. 

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them. 

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things. 

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”  

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“samu,” you whine. 

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore. 

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does. 

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one. 

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face. 

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly. 

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little. 

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses. 

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you. 

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.  

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment. 

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert. 

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it. 

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets. 

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine. 

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will. 

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours. 

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him. 

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them. 

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock. 

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock. 

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.” 

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face. 

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.” 

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you. 

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something. 

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going. 

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod. 

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms. 

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it. 

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer. 

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t. 

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t. 

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you. 

“what now?” you mumble, not moving. 

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him. 

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket. 

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs. 

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

you look happy there. 

you look really happy there.

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites @buckys-hoeee @avfox24 @reinertiddiejuice @poke-pia @its-simply-me19 @nahcho @sugamonster22 @destinyg237 @msbyomimi

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)