#but i also can’t talk to them straight up

[twirlyleafs]

“Professional girlfriend.”

Lando Norris x engineer! Reader

TW: nothing special I think

~~~~

Usually you were pretty good at separating your professional relationship with Lando from your personal one, but today it seemed to be tougher than usual. Everyone knew you and Lando were dating, you’d never tried to hide it, but you also never acted like a couple in the garage or around the other engineers. Not that you met too much during the workdays, since you worked principally on Oscars side. During debriefs or meetings you could sometimes catch Lando looking at you and he always offered a discreet wink, making you have to push down a smile as you quickly looked away again, but never more than that.

“Alright, today was obviously not our best.” Andrea spoke up from one end of the long line of tables. That was putting it lightly. Qualifying had been rough, straight out, with bad tyre temps, shitty strategies and yellow flags fucking everything up, making Oscar start seventh tomorrow and Lando down at tenth. From the second he stepped into the room you could tell he was beating himself up for it and you couldn’t help but feel the girlfriend side of you crumble a bit. Lando hadn’t met your gaze even once and as Andrea kept talking about the day you noted how his shoulders just kept slumping more and more. Taking a deep breath you pulled your gaze from your obviously upset boyfriend, trying to focus back on the data displayed on the screen in front of you. You gave your report, keeping it short and straight to the point, and then you leaned back in your chair and waited for the meeting to be over. When Andrea finally excused you, ending with some inspirational quote about tomorrow being a new day, you gathered up your things with a sigh. You saw Lando talking with some of his engineers and you decided to go and drop off your stuff before meeting up with him. Unfortunately you got caught up for a while, chatting with your colleagues, and when you were finally free you almost felt a bit stressed to get to Landos driver room, wanting to be there to comfort him before he spiraled to much.

“Lan?” You knocked softly on the door, trying the handle even though you didn’t get an answer. The door opened and it didn’t take you more than a couple of seconds to conclude that he wasn’t there. Sighing you hoisted your bag higher up on your shoulder, setting out to find your boyfriend. Everyone you met offered sympathetic smiles, they all knew you were the one who’d comfort Lando tonight, but when you asked them if they’d seen him they all shook their heads. No one knew where he was. For several minutes you walked around the unit until you almost bumped into Will.

“Hey!” The man’s gaze snapped up from the iPad he was carrying, surprised look softening into a tired smile when he saw you.

“Hey, you’re still here?”

“I can’t find Lando.” You mumbled, getting straight to the point, and Wills face fell slightly. When you raised your eyebrows he let out a soft sigh.

“I think he might still be in the conference room, he said he wanted to go over some things from today-“

“Will.” You practically groaned, shaking your head. You and Will had talked about this before, agreeing that it wasn’t good for anyone to let the drivers sit alone and nitpick things even if they wanted too. You said drivers, but it had basically never been an issue with Oscar. Lando, on the other hand, was an expert at staring himself blind on the data, ending up feeling worse the more he watched.

“I know, I know.” Will sighed, shaking his head. “I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t have it. He told me he’d talked to you about it already.”

“He definitely hasn’t.” You checked your phone to be sure but you knew there wouldn’t be a text from him. Looking back at Will you offered a crooked smile. “I’ll get him. Thank you. But you need to be harder on him when it comes to this.” At that Will couldn’t help but scoff, shrugging his shoulders.

“You know he doesn’t listen to anyone. Maybe you, a bit, definitely not me.”

You said goodbye to Will, quick steps taking you back towards where you last saw Lando. When you reached the conference room you first thought Will had been wrong, not seeing Lando through the glass wall. The lights were dimmed, most screens turned off, but as you got closer you could see the light from one computer still flickering in the room. Stopping just outside the door you watched the back of your boyfriend for a few seconds, feeling your chest clench at the way he sat with his shoulders slumped, staring at the screen. With a soft sigh you pushed the door open, carefully letting it click closed behind you again as you placed your bag down on the floor. Lando didn’t hear you, or if he did he didn’t react. You watched the back of his head for a moment, gaze trailing his tense shoulders before you slowly moved closer to him. The second your hands came in contact with his back, stroking over it gently, Lando flinched slightly.

“Sorry.” You mumbled quietly, feeling him relax under your touch. As your hands kept rubbing his back, moving up over his shoulders, Landos gaze never left the screen in front of him. It wasn’t until you finally wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning down to press a couple of kisses against his ear and cheek, that he actually acknowledged you. It wasn’t much, but he lifted one hand to grab onto your arm across his chest, stroking it slowly with his thumb.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet and you could tell how down he was by just that one word. Not that you had expected anything else.

“Are you ready to go back to the hotel my love?”

“I don’t think so. Sorry.” His hand dropped from your arm.

“Come on baby, you know this isn’t good for you.”

“You can go, I’ll come later. Have some stuff I need to review.” You could tell by his voice that he wouldn’t listen to you, he wouldn’t leave. Despite just calling Will out for letting Lando make the decisions you couldn’t help but accept defeat, pausing for a second before slowly pulling away. A moment later you were seated in the chair next to him.

“What is it we need to review?”

“No, you don’t-“ he actually turned to look at you, pausing when he noted the expression on your face. Lando knew you well enough to realize you wouldn’t leave him alone and despite wanting to be left in his bubble of self hatred he couldn’t help but feel appreciative. As he hesitated you spoke up again.

“If you have things you want to look at, we’ll do it together. Then we leave together. I’m not letting you sit here alone and beat yourself up over today.” You tried to speak as softly as you could while still remaining stern, you wanted him to know you were on his side. Always. Lando waited for a moment but eventually nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” His hand swiped across the surface of the table, closer to you, and you were quick to wrap your fingers around his larger ones. Lando watched your hands for a second before his gaze flickered up to met yours. “Thank you.” At that you couldn’t help but smile softly, nodding as you squeezed his hand.

”Anytime.”

The two of you stayed for a while, looking through the data and discussing exactly what went wrong where. While you were always honest with Lando, agreeing that he had done some mistakes that probably cost him a couple positions, you were also quick to point out all the circumstances that he had nothing to do with. Team mistakes, flags, weather- you made sure he didn’t take the blame for more than he should. As the clocked ticked on you felt yourself slump more and more and soon enough you were leaning against your boyfriend, cheek pressed against his shoulder and eyes fixed on the screen.

“You tired?” Lando suddenly paused the video the two of you were currently looking at, glancing down at you. You blinked rapidly a few times, pulling away to force some energy back into your body.

“Me?” You shook your head. “I’m fine.” Lando stared at you, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to tell him the truth. You wouldn’t, however you couldn’t stop the yawn escaping your lips and Lando let out a soft chuckle.

“Maybe it’s time to get out of here?”

“Yeah? You feel ready to pack up?”

“Yeah well,” Lando sighed. “You know I could sit here until tomorrow morning and pick at things…” he trailed off and you reached over to wrap your fingers around his wrist, stroking over his pulse point.

“But that wouldn’t help.”

“Probably not.” He turned to look at you again. You tilted your head, offering a sweet smile.

“If you’re ready to leave, I am too. I think it’ll be nice to get back to the hotel? Take a nice warm shower together? Order up some food, eat in bed…” you pulled your hand from his wrist to reach up and drag it through his curls, gently scratching down his neck. “I’ll give you some back rubs if you want?” Landos eyes were trained on you as you spoke and you loved the way the corners of his lips actually began to turn upwards.

“You had me at shower, honestly.” He mused quietly, earning a laugh from you.

”Alright, let’s go then big boy.” You gently patted his cheek, offering a quick wink before pulling away. Pushing your chair out from the table you stood up, stretching with a soft groan before turning around to grab your stuff from the floor. You didn’t make it more than a step before fingers wrapped around your arm and with a soft tug you were pulled back around to face your boyfriend. Before you could react his hand had found its place holding your jaw and barely a second later his lips were on yours, offering the sweetest kiss. You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, hands snaking across his abdomen to squeeze his sides through the fireproofs as you kissed him back. When he eventually pulled away he did so barely an inch, eyes flickering between yours a few times before he offered a couple more hard pecks against your lips. You hummed out a giggle, leaning back to look up at him.

“Thank you.” Lando mumbled, the softest little smile on his face. Pursing your lips you shrugged your shoulders, snaking your arms around his torso.

“I’m just doing my job. As an engineer and a girlfriend. I take them equally serious.” That had Lando actually let out a small chuckle and the smile on your face widened.

“You’re a professional at both, I’d say.” He mumbled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. “Especially the latter.”

[strang3lov3]

Under the Table

Roman takes you to dinner. You eat pasta and he eats you (4k)

Tags - smut, stepcest, stepdaddy!roman, age gap, dom!roman, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), public sex, teasing, emotional boners, you make daddy blush and get all bashful so he reminds you who calls the shots, like Dennis Reynolds, Roman has feelings again but he’s still disgustinggggg, does he want to be your father or your daddy, oh he is getting so soft. But someone else is too 🫵 implied almond/alcoholic mom + other mommy issues,,,planting some seeds here don’t mind me,,, Fic help - @beefrobeefcal thank you for brainstorming with me and for giving me your eyeballs! @endlessthxxghts, ditto!! A/N - yeah I wrote a birthday fic for my birthday to my birthday party on my birthday with a birthday gift. shut the fuck up about it. I love you. I think next time we see him he’ll fuck your ass maybe. I don’t know. Someone jump into my inbox and tell me something gross they should do because I need to cancel out this goddamn sweetness. Rotting the teeth right out of my skull smh. also, I know we waited a while for more stepdaddy. I appreciate your patience more than you know 🩷 updates may continue to be slow this month because we’re getting down to the wire with school and all that stuff.

Stepdaddy!Roman Roy

7:34 AM. You wake to texts from old friends and relatives wishing you another happy year around the sun, don’t party too hard and so on and so forth. It does warm your heart to know that people are thinking of you. Your past birthdays haven’t felt much like the birthdays you had when you were younger, when you were so excited to celebrate your day you couldn’t sleep. 

You pull on a sweatshirt over your thin pajamas and head downstairs to make yourself a bowl of cereal, and find Roman in the kitchen. “Morning, sunshine. Go sit down in the dining room.”

“Mm,” you grumble, voice gravelly from sleep. Your eyes are droopy and you still look tired, barely conscious. 

Roman eyes you as you sit down. You rest your head on the table, and you’re wearing his sweatshirt. He’s not entirely sure how you wound up with it. He doesn’t say anything, though, only smirks to himself. 

Roman goes back into the kitchen to plate some blueberry pancakes he made for you, just like he’s done since you were young. Roman’s not much of a cook, but this is one meal he can make and that he can make well. He wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but you asked him once when you were a kid and he didn’t have it in his heart to tell you no. Roman remembers how crappy that first batch came out, but how you didn’t complain. Honestly, you probably didn’t even notice with your pancakes covered in so much butter and syrup and whipped cream. You probably couldn’t even taste the blueberries. But thus, tradition stuck, and Roman’s blueberry pancake game vastly improved over the years. He liked making them for you as much as you liked eating them.

Roman returns to you with the plate of blueberry pancakes and sets it down in front of you. “Voilà.”

You lift your head up and grin when you see the pancakes Roman made for you. It’s straight out of a commercial, melted butter and syrup dripping down the edges with a dollop of whipped cream right on top. “Aww. You remembered,” you beam. You didn’t ask Roman for the pancakes this year. 

Roman blushes, and he feels his heart beat harder. It’s been so long since you’ve smiled at him like that, and it makes him nervous. “No. I made them for myself, actually, but I was feeling generous. This is my good deed for the week.”

“You still remembered.”

Roman ignores the accusation. “I gave you all the fucked up ones, just so you know. And I spit in the batter.”

“Mm. Tasty.”

Fuck. Your eyes are sparkling, your smile is so warm. Roman can’t stomach it, how you make him feel sometimes. “Oh, shut up and eat your fucking pancakes, birthday girl,” he snaps, contorting his face to fight his smile. “I hate you. You’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes and eat your pancakes, humming at the delicious flavor. Roman grabs your favorite mug and sets it down next to you, then fills it with the coffee he made. Before you can thank him, the clattering of high heels on the hardwood floor interrupts you. Your mom is on the phone and stops briefly in the dining room when she smells the pancakes Roman made for you. She leans over your shoulder and takes your fork from your hand and cuts off a bite for herself. “Mom,” you complain. 

“You can share,” she scolds, covering the mic on her phone.  

Roman speaks, “Wait, don’t. I made those special for -”

Your mom smiles and kisses Roman on the cheek before he can finish his sentence, and then she’s out the door while still talking with Erica. 

Roman looks to you for your reaction, and your face falls. That beautiful smile on your lips just moments ago, snuffed out like a candle. “I don’t think she remembered,” you tell Roman, defeated. 

“Oh no, I don’t think that’s true,” Roman lies. “I’m sure she just - I don’t know,” he sighs, resigning to the reality of the situation. You can expect some mushy and emotional text from her later, probably tomorrow. “No, you’re right - that was bullshit.” Roman squeezes your shoulder affectionately and tells you he’s sorry. 

Roman means it. He knows exactly how it feels to have a parent forget your birthday. His dad only remembered a handful of times, and every present always felt empty. It’s part of why Roman’s always put effort into making your day special each year. He never got the birthday he wanted or deserved, but he could give that to you.

“Listen,” Roman says, “I gotta run to work now. Don’t party too hard. Or do. I don’t care. It’s your day. Just don’t snort coke in my bathroom, okay? Anywhere else. And don’t do it before, like, four in the afternoon.” Roman pats your shoulder. “Just basic human decency.”

“I’m not gonna do coke in your bathroom, Roman.”

“I just feel the need to say it after the Uncle Ken incident, you know?” You laugh at that, though you shouldn’t. Roman continues, “Anyway, I want you to eat up all of your highly nutritious breakfast and when I come home tonight, you better be in your favorite dress.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m taking you out.”

“You are?” 

“Duh, genius. Like me and you always do on your birthday, remember? Or are you forgetting as you approach your crone years?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off. You’re closer to senile than I am. Pushing fifty there, aren’t you, Roman?”

“Maybe. I’ve got some years left, so watch it,” he warns, then kisses the top of your head. “I fuck like I’m thirty, anyway.”

-

The rest of the day drags on, truthfully. You finish your pancakes, then go upstairs and treat yourself to a bubble bath, your vibrator joining you. Afterwards, you dress yourself in comfortable clothes and drive yourself around the city, picking up birthday freebies from different stores and fast food restaurants. When you come home, you do your hair and makeup in the way that makes you feel prettiest, then look through your closet for your favorite dress, just like Roman said. 

Your favorite dress. It’s not an easy decision. You have a favorite dress that’s comfortable, a favorite dress on your body, a favorite patterned dress. You slide the hangers across the closet rod, contemplating, contemplating…until you come across that one purple dress. 

You remember Roman pulling the zipper of that dress up your spine, his warm hands on your waist. How he fucked you in that closet, bent you over the vanity and split you open. You watched him in the mirror as you gushed on his cock. You wear that dress tonight, then pick out some shoes to match. 

Roman presses his horn repeatedly to call you outside. He’s fucking obnoxious, but you laugh. You rush downstairs and out the door, and when Roman sees you he gets out of the driver’s seat and rounds the front of his car to open up the passenger side door for you. “Look at you, birthday girl,” he says, chewing minty gum. “You look so grown up.”

“Ew. Don’t, please.”

“So that’s your favorite dress, huh?”

Knowing Roman recognizes your dress makes your cheeks warm. “Yeah,” you mumble softly. 

“Mm. Mine too,” he whispers, then shuts the door. He gets back into the driver’s seat and presses buttons on the screen until his car’s Bluetooth connects to your phone. “I think your birthday earns you DJ rights, yeah?” Roman pulls the gear shifter into drive. 

“I’d say so,” you agree, picking out your favorite playlist on Spotify. Roman puts his hand on your thigh, inching it up and under your skirt. He doesn’t do more than an occasional squeeze, and tapping his fingertips on your skin. Still, it excites you. 

Once at the restaurant, Roman takes your hand and helps you out of the car. You read the sign of the restaurant, Adalina, and Roman leads you inside. You notice he’s holding a little gift bag. “Reservation for Roy,” he tells the host, who then ushers you both to a corner booth. The lights are dim, tables covered in floor-length white cloths. There’s people chatting at tables and at the bar, someone softly playing piano. Once seated, the host lights a candle at your table. 

“Your uh - your boy toy from a while ago. Is this where he took you? I thought you said something about not liking it,” Roman asks, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his thigh. 

You shake your head. “No,” you answer. “I’ve never been here.”

“Good, that’s good…you guys still talk?”

You shoot him a look at the same time your server comes by to place a plate of bread and oil at your table and to pour water in your glasses. “Can I start you off with some wine, something else to drink?”

You look at Roman, who shrugs. “All you,” he says. 

“I’m fine with water.” 

Roman says the same. He figured you’d forgo drinking tonight, even if it was just one little glass of wine. That’s why he had you make the decision - he doesn’t want you feeling pulled in either direction. You’re not much of a drinker, with your mom being the opposite. It makes sense. 

Your server leaves to give you a little while to browse the menu and pick out appetizers and dinner. Roman places that gift bag from earlier in front of you. 

“For me?” You reach for the bag. 

“For you,” Roman replies, mocking your tone. 

You pull the tissue paper out of the bag before pulling out the gift itself - it’s…you don’t know what you’re looking at. It’s some bizarre figure of a frog dressed as a cowboy, riding…a bearded dragon? Baffled and wearing a smile, you turn it over in your hand. You wonder where on god’s green earth Roman even found something like this. 

“I thought of you,” Roman says. “Has your name written all over it.”

“Oh Roman,” you sigh dramatically, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I know, I know.”

You examine the weird little toy some more, giggling at all of the details. Roman’s fucking with you, but you do love the figurine. He knew you would. 

Roman reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a fancy leather box, then slides it across the tablecloth quietly. “What..?”

“Shush. Just open it.”

You put down your figurine and open the box, gasping at the sight. A gorgeous, multi-stone sapphire pendant sparkles above black velvet. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen, the design very intentional. Unique. “Roman…”

“Umm,” Roman hums nervously, hovering over you to point at the pendant, “They’re sapphires, so blue- they’re like blueberries,” he stutters, gesturing to the multiple round-cut stones. “‘Cause of the pancakes I make you…uh…sometimes.” Roman points to the little diamonds between the sapphires, “And the diamonds, I don’t know. I thought it was a nice accent sort of thing. And you’re a girl, you know. You like sparkles.”

You’re touched. Not only is the piece gorgeous, but the thought Roman put into it warms your heart and makes it all the more special. There’s no way he just walked into a jeweler’s and picked this out of the display case. He thought up the design and had it custom made, probably weeks or months ago. Had to have. Carefully, you remove the pendant and its box chain from the box. 

“If you don’t l-” You put the piece of jewelry in Roman’s hand and turn your back to him. Roman smiles to himself. He puts the necklace over your chest and brings the chain around your neck, his nervously shaking fingers tickling your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “God, fuck - sorry, hang on,” he whispers, losing and finding his grip on the small clasp before successfully securing it. “There.” Excitedly, you pull out your phone and turn on your front-facing camera to admire the pendant on your skin. 

You turn off your phone and put it in your purse, then fling yourself at Roman, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. Roman freezes at first, then hugs you back gingerly, before finally squeezing you just as tightly, chuckling quietly at your palpable excitement. You pull away from the hug just enough to kiss him quickly on his lips, startling both yourself and Roman. “Yeah, so…” He rubs the back of his neck and blushes wildly, his cock quickly hardening in his pants. Roman coughs and adjusts his napkin over his lap, still feeling the pressure of your lips on his despite their absence. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” he whispers. 

“I love it. Thank you.” You look at Roman with sparkling eyes, pupils blown wide as you beam at him. It makes him blush even harder, his ears and neck turning red too. 

“Stop it, don’t - quit looking at me like that,” Roman scolds, avoiding eye contact. “It - it’s nothing.”

“I don’t know,” you reply, “I think it’s something.”

“Yeah, of course you think that. Because that’s the problem with your generation. You put labels on everything and think you’re all so special. Snowflakes,” he rants. “God, I can’t stand you people. You especially. I’d get that necklace for anyone.”

Defensive. He’s so fucking comically defensive, and it tickles you. “Hey, Roman,” you purr, in the mood to tease. 

Roman looks at you wearing a seemingly permanent smile on your lips as you touch and toy with your pendant. “What? What now?” he asks, flustered and impatient. 

“You’re kinda pink.”

“I’m not…pink,” Roman mumbles.

“You are. You’re blushing.”

“Shut the fuck up. I am not blushing.”

“No, you’re totally blushing. Your cheeks are all rosy.”

Roman buries his face in his hands and groans, eliciting a sweet giggle from you. The way you look at him, how you’re acting and making him feel. Tripping over his words, his heart hasn’t stopped pounding, cock achingly hard since you pecked his lips. You make him feel weak, and you’re not supposed to. Not like this. 

Your server returns then. “Are we ready to order?”

“Yes,” Roman quickly answers. “I’ll have the…fuck. One - one sec.” Roman raises a finger as he browses the menu. Sorry, you mouth to the server. “Entrees, entrees…” he mumbles.

“It’s right here,” you whisper, pointing to the entree section of Roman’s menu. His large bulge catches your eye, and you smile mischievously. When did that happen?

“Okay. Yeah. I think I’ll have the charred fil- fuck.”

Your server’s eyes widen at Roman, who quickly apologizes. Your hand is on his bulge, squeezing him through the fabric of his pants. 

“He wants the charred filet,” you cut in, answering for Roman. “I’ll have the gnocchi. Thank you,” you smile sweetly at the waiter, stroking Roman’s bulge over his pants. Silently, Roman gives the man a thumbs up and waves him away. Roman bites his lip as he waits for him to go back to the kitchen. “Alright, fuck this,” Roman snaps, squeezing your wrist and forcibly removing your hand from his lap. “You’re out of line.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re being weird. Are you feeling okay?” 

“We’ve had a nice night, you know. Do you really wanna do this?”

“Do what?”

“Cute.” Roman wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his side. “I give you an inch and you take a mile.” 

“You’re still so flushed,” you tease. This time, Roman doesn’t smile bashfully. Instead, he wears a frown and puts his hand on your knee, under the skirt of your dress. His palm slides up your thigh until his fingers meet your panties, and he teases you over the fabric. “Ooh. Look who’s wet,” he mocks, feeling your sticky dampness. Roman hooks his fingers under your panties and pulls them, sliding them down your thighs. “Lift up. They’re coming off.” 

“What are you doing?” you hiss. You hold his forearm in both of your hands, attempting to pry his hand away from your lap. His muscles flex beneath your palm as he fights against you. Roman’s taking this much farther than you did.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You have to stop. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Not like this, not here, not - Jesus Christ.” Roman tugs your panties down to your knees, then lifts your legs over his lap so he can remove them the rest of the way. It’s not long before you’ll be soaking through your dress.

“You’re not behind the wheel anymore.” Roman stuffs your soaked panties into his pocket and spreads your legs wide, one of your thighs still resting on his. “Shouldn’t have been in the first place.” You’re completely exposed right now, anyone could see what Roman’s doing to you. What you’re letting him do to you. He wriggles his fingers underneath the skirt of your dress and presses his thumb against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and jerk your body, hitting your free leg against the table. The utensils on your plate clatter loudly, and Roman’s glass of water spills over and onto the tablecloth. Another guest at the restaurant looks at you, and you force a smile at them. “Ooh, nice one,” Roman taunts.

Roman’s rubbing you in circles now, using his free hand to tug your dress up and look at your bare pussy under the warm light of the candles at your table. You look at him with pleading eyes, begging him, “We shouldn’t be doing this, Roman. Not here. Not like this.”

“Yes, here, and yes, like this. Don’t fucking argue with me.” Roman buries two fingers into your cunt, pushing them in and out of you slowly, collecting your arousal. “You didn’t think this one through, did you?” 

He drags his slick fingers up and down your folds, feeling you becoming wetter by the second. He circles your clit lazily, rubbing it gently, listening closely to the wet noises you make. Your waiter returns with your meals, and just like you did to Roman, Roman keeps his hands on you. “Better keep it together,” he murmurs in your ear, pulling your skirt back over the front of your thighs. 

Your server sets Roman’s filet in front of him, then your gnocchi down in front of you. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Yeah, actually,” Roman answers. His demeanor has totally shifted. He’s cool, he’s back in control. “What are your desserts tonight? This one here has a pretty severe sweet tooth.”

“Dessert specials,” the server repeats. “I have to think. They change them up on us a lot.”

“Oh, take your time. We’ve got all night. Don’t we, kiddo?” 

“Mhm. Yep.” 

Roman takes a spoonful of his mashed potato side as your waiter thinks. “Tiramisu, of course,” he says. 

“Oh, well. Naturally.” Roman’s fingers slide down until he’s pressing them right against your slick little hole. 

“We have a cookie plate, too. A chocolate and hazelnut mousse cake. And a pineapple angel cake. And gelato.” 

Roman slides his fingers into your tight pussy, pressing them up to search for that spongy spot inside of you. “What flavors?”

“We have caramel butter cake, chocolate cashew raspberry…” 

The server’s voice becomes distant as he recites flavors. You squeak when Roman reaches your g-spot, swallowing your moans as he curls his fingers repeatedly against it. 

“We have sorbets, too.” 

“What sorbets?” Roman asks.

“Mango calamansi, cantaloupe, and lemongrass.” 

“Quite a dessert menu. Well, what do you think, birthday girl?”

“Tiramisu,” you mumble. 

“I didn’t catch that,” the server replies. “What was that?”

Roman answers for you, “She says she wants tiramisu. She’s just shy sometimes. Aren’t you?”

You glare at Roman, who smiles at you, flashing those perfect little teeth of his. His fingers stop suddenly - he has an idea. He cocks an eyebrow when your hips follow his hand, bucking into his palm, “Interesting,” he says, smiling fondly at your desperation. Your face feels hot and you feel out of your depth here. Roman was right to warn you about getting into this, about it being a nice night.

It worries you to see Roman scanning the room and biting his lip. He’s thinking, which is never good. “Roman. Whatever you’re thinking of doing - don’t.” 

Roman ignores your warning. “Keep telling me no and watch what happens,” he warns, then slides under the table with seamless ease. Once under the table, he pushes your thighs apart and pulls you close to the edge of your seat, putting one of your legs over his shoulder. 

He licks your inner thighs, his scruff abrasive against your damp skin. Roman licks you higher and higher, pulling you closer to his waiting mouth where you can feel his hot breath against your core. His head bulges a bit under the white tablecloth, and then you feel it - one long, fat lick of his tongue up your seam. “Ohhh my god,” you moan, garnering a look from someone at a nearby table. You smile and take a sip of your water with shaky hands. 

Roman starts small with little licks, sucking your labia into his mouth. First one side, then the other. His hands rest on your thighs, hot against your skin and squeezing your flesh. He licks over your clit next, then sucks it between his lips. He alternates between those two actions, stopping and starting all over again and again. You want more and less of it, of Roman, all at once.

Roman gently tugs the hood of your clit up, exposing your most sensitive part of yourself to his lips and tongue. He slides his two fingers inside you once more, fucking you on those digits as he sloppily licks your clit. You arch into his touch and reach under the table to hold his head and tug on his hair. “Roman,” you whimper. 

He coaxes release from you effortlessly, patiently using his tongue to draw steady circles on your clit as he curls those long, bony fingers inside you. You bite your lip so hard it breaks skin, squeezing Roman’s head with your thighs and whimpering softly as you feel the beginning of your climax begin to take over. 

Fuck. Your server is back with the tiramisu Roman had ordered for you. “The tiramisu,” he says, placing it on the table. “I apologize, I forgot to ask - do you and your date want coffee to go with dessert?”

“N- nah- no-” you stutter, though it comes out more as a moan as Roman fucks you with his tongue through your orgasm. Roman slaps your thigh and you jump in your seat, earning yourself a strange look from your server. Wrong answer. “Sor - yeah - yes. Yes.” Roman kisses your inner thigh in approval. 

Your poor fucking waiter. He nods wordlessly to go back into the kitchen and retrieve coffee for you and Roman. At the same time, Roman emerges from under the table with his cheeks flushed and his hair mussed and out of place, which is entirely your fault. “Fuck,” you whisper. Hastily, you finger-comb his hair into place. 

Roman grabs a spoon and takes the first bite of the tiramisu. “Mm,” he hums. “Sorry, birthday girl. Dad tax.”

Roman scoops up another bite of tiramisu, then brings the spoon to your lips. You take the bite, your cheeks warming when you taste your arousal on the metal. 

-

It’s quiet in the house when you and Roman come home. He stops briefly in the kitchen to put your leftovers away, then follows you up the steps and into your bedroom. “Need help with your zipper?” 

“Mhm. Please” 

Roman pulls your zipper down your back, then turns you around. Before you can think, he cups your face with both hands and kisses you, really kisses you. It’s no accidental peck on the lips, no. It’s intentional, deep and deliberate. His lips are soft, his tongue melding perfectly together with yours. When he pulls away, you look at him with knitted brows.

“You kissed me first, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Then it’s on the table.” 

Roman kisses you once more, then pulls away again. His eyes are dark and sparkling, and warm, too. He touches the pendant on your chest, holding it between his fingers before rubbing his thumb across the stones. It’s so intimate, and it leaves you breathless and confused. “Good birthday?” 

You nod. Roman smiles at you. 

“I’m glad. Goodnight, kiddo.” 

tysm for reading!! please scream nice and horny things at me if you enjoyed ♡ reblogs, comments, and asks are so appreciated and keep me motivated to write for you guys

tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamili @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @luiscarrutherss @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow @ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh

[iichfilwypj]

take me home | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: none! pure fluff ღ wc: 832 i tried to make it shorter sorry :( pt 1 - pt 3 - pt 4

The dining hall was especially… noisy. 

By next week, many campers would be heading home, and everyone was excited. She wasn’t happy about it; with no one to return to, she planned to stay at camp alone and sleep—just sleep. 

“What? I’d win!” she sat beside Percy at his table, engaged in a silly conversation. His confidence to defeat Superman was stupid; he was aware of how unlikely his victory was, but he remained stubborn.

“Percy, he can fly. You can’t walk a straight line!” 

“I can swim.” she burst out laughing. It echoed through the dining hall, drawing a few amused glances from other campers. 

Percy glanced at her, a grin creeping onto his face that he tried to suppress by frowning his eyebrows. He couldn’t let himself be exposed. 

Did he think he’d win against Superman? No, that man would wipe the floor with him. But she was laughing, so he wouldn’t mind coming up with more arguments. 

You'd think that the stronger your feelings grow for someone, especially if it's your best friend, the further you’d distance yourself. 

What's the point of getting your hopes up? 

Well, that was not Percy’s case. Ever since what happened last week in his cabin, he couldn’t manage to stay away from her. He made it his responsibility to wake her up, help during her tasks, and ensure she got enough sleep. He chatted with her, made plans, and even shared naps with her. He was sure he had managed to get at least fifteen hours more of sleep than he usually did. 

It didn’t matter, nothing did. He just wanted to be with her. 

But he had started to grow desperate. The desire to be with her had escalated into a need he couldn't ignore. And he was exhausted from holding back. ‘You have to tell her!’ his friends insisted, but how? The idea of confessing made him sick.

‘Hey, I’m in love with you. Wanna be my girlfriend?’ Yeah, no, that is cringe.

“Beth could totally beat Superman” the sweet voice of his friend jolted him from his thoughts. The dining was now empty, and the silence was a bit scary. “She’s very stro-”

“Do you wanna come home?” he stammered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. His mouth fell open, his eyes wide open. 

OMG? WHAT THE FUCK PERCY!

“What?” she asked, also confused. He stood quiet, not wanting to look at her. 

Weird, considering it was the only thing he wanted to do lately.

“Not any home. To my house, during the holidays.” he dared to say. She was silent; did he overstep?, was it too soon? “I don’t want you to be alone, and I’m sure my mom would love to meet you. You can say no if-”

“Ocean breath” he immediately stopped talking, examining her features for any hint of rejection or disapproval. What he found in her eyes was something that resembled gratitude, fondness –he wouldn’t dare to say love yet. They were glossy, and while she wiped them, he wished it was just because of her tiredness. “I would love to.”

NOT A CHANCE! She said yes! And not only yes, she said she’d love to!  

“Oh, cool” he couldn't find any more words. His heart raced, and a smile settled on his lips, the joy he felt was something he had never experienced before.

She leaned her body against his side, eyes closing and letting out a soft sigh. However, he couldn’t stop himself from making a joke.

“You'll have to sleep on the balcony. You know, safety reasons. A stranger in my house? Pff, what a scandal!” 

“Oh, cool” she mocked him, and he nudged her in the side. 

Percy leaned his head against her shoulder, and softly rubbed her back, knowing she loved that. A few seconds later, soft snores could be heard, and her head would have hit the table if he hadn’t caught her. He leaned her head onto his shoulder now, before leaving a small kiss on her temple. 

He closed his eyes. For a moment, he was sure this was what heaven felt like.

hi hi hi! :) i'm very bored, please recommend me books! love u all, have a pretty day.

[cheqorb]

More Between Us.

You’ve always been just friends, but they can’t ignore how their heart races whenever you’re near.

FEAT. Isagi, Bachira

NOTES. probably my most tooth-rotting post yet! annnd I totally forgot I had this in my drafts Bring this duo back to me though pleasj

ISAGI is easygoing, and mild-mannered by nature (though perhaps his rivals disagree on that). It’s literally harder to not be friends with him. Your relationship was equally good, nothing particularly special and not abysmal. The type of friends who might talk on the way to class if you spot each other, but never go out of their way to do so either.

If asked, you wouldn’t even say best friends; he’s too busy with his teammates, and you have your own friend group.

See, Isagi enjoys thinking about stuff in a logical sense, using reason and evidence to support his ‘theory’. Both in real life and in football.

So before he even comes to the conclusion of a crush, firstly, there’s the small details he picks up about you.

Your eyes shift colour slightly if the sun hits them right. But, he reckons that happens with everyone’s eyes. Your eyes crinkle upwards when you smile, and maybe even dimples form on your cheeks as you do so. He likes seeing people smile, and yours is… in a way, cuter than anyone else’s? If he had to rank smiles, he’d put yours near the top. All hypothetical, obviously!

He’s always been observant, even as a kid, so Isagi figured he was just feeling a little more insightful as of late but it doesn’t stop there.

Suddenly, Isagi finds himself unconsciously lingering in places he knows you'll be. He tells himself it's just coincidence, but deep down, he has a feeling that he’s seeking you out more often.

Practicing with his team becomes a lot more strategic, with him making sure he's near your usual route home (not in a stalker way, at least, he hopes not), and just on time so that he can ‘bump into you’ and walk together.

And he lives in the complete opposite direction, so, while you don’t mind his presence, you find it a little odd.

Isagi begins to remember every little thing you mention, even the small stuff, like your favorite snack or the song you've been listening to on repeat. Next thing you know, he’s casually surprising you with them, acting like it’s no big deal but loves it when you get visibly excited about it.

He fumbles with his words a little more around you now, overthinking simple things that never used to bother him. It’s not like he’s shy (actually one of the best communicators out of everyone), he just doesn’t want to mess up or make you think he’s weird!

If he says something that could be interpreted as mildly creepy, he’s actually the first one to call it out and apologise over and over again. Beats himself up about it at home, even if you thought it was mildly funny that he knew what you were doing last week Tuesday at around 5:06PM…

When his teammates joke about him having a crush, he laughs it off, but there’s always a little pink in his cheeks that he hopes you don’t notice.

He'll start texting you first more often, just to share something funny or ask for your opinion on something trivial. It’s an excuse, really, just to have another reason to talk to you.

Also catches himself smiling whenever he sees a notification from you pop up on his phone, and his heart does a little flip when he reads your replies, no matter how mundane they are. Literally a “hey, I’m bored. Wanna hang out” is enough for him to lose sleep over it.

When you two do eventually go to said hang out, he pays extra attention to you: whether it's making sure you’re comfortable, or that you’ve got enough to eat, he’s always subtly looking out for you.

Despite all these signs, Isagi convinces himself it’s better this way — giving you small hints for you to understand rather than straight-up confessing. If you notice them and accept, great! If you notice and don’t accept, that’s fine too, he hopes you can remain friends though!

If you’re completely oblivious, well… he’ll muster up the courage to say it outright.

You and BACHIRA are like two peas in a pod together! Where there’s one, the other’s probably lurking nearby somewhere. Every second of every day seems to be spent with each other (and to anybody with common sense, you two already look like you’re dating).

When the crush starts, he thinks about you more than he already did, if that were even possible. Every little thing you do seems to make his heart race, but he sorta brushes it off as just excitement from being with his best friend.

Kind of a trickier situation than Isagi’s one this way though, because now you’re so close, Bachira doesn’t even feel that different about you. He might not even realise it’s romantic until his mother points it out in the midst of another one of his rambling sessions. About you, that is.

I won’t sugarcoat it; he’s nervous if anything. You’re one of the few friends he has and genuinely seem to care and like about him and if he ruins your friendship over his feelings, he’d be devastated.

But he’s back to his usual self and gains a little confidence after some encouragement from others!

Bachira’s clinginess ramps up a notch, but it’s so typical of him that you might not even notice. He’s constantly draping an arm around you, leaning on you, or just being in your personal space as much as possible.

Willing to share anything and everything with you. For example, if it’s snacks he’s got, he’s always picking out the best pieces just for you and handing them over with a cute smile.

Bachira finds himself staring at you a lot more now. Sometimes you’ll catch him and he’ll just laugh it off with a playful comment, but on the inside, his mind is racing with thoughts he can’t quite put into words.

When you talk, he listens with full attention, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more tender. He hangs onto your every word like it’s the most important thing he’s ever heard — and you could literally be talking about a bug you saw on the sidewalk this morning.

If you ever need anything, Bachira’s the first one to jump in and help, no questions asked. He’d go out of his way just to make you smile, even if it means a truckload of extra effort on his part.

Sometimes, he hints at deeper feelings in his usual roundabout way — in little jokes that might just have a hint of truth behind them. But he always plays it off as just that, a joke.

If you’re feeling down, he’s the first to notice, offering comfort in the form of goofy antics or just sitting with you in silence if that’s what you want.

If you ever confront him directly and ask if he feels something more than just being friends, Bachira might just spill everything in a rush of words; unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer. But until then, he’s content simply being by your side, even if it means he isn’t being entirely honest to himself.

[malk1ns]

november 2 2024 vs habs, 3-1 win

bond fic part three (1, 2). i don't think they'll all be in this 'world' from now on, but i definitely plan to revisit, especially if sid keeps saying insane things like 'i love....really enjoy playing with him' on television while making the most blatant genoface of all time.

Sid feels guilty about the bond.

It doesn’t take a genius to tell that it’s benefitting him right now a lot more than it is Geno. It also doesn’t require any special detective skills to narrow down what exactly it was that caused it to clamor for recognition now, after presumably years of lying dormant—the specialists the team has hauled in haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly when it started to click into place, but they’ve narrowed it down to sometime in 2014.

Sochi. Coughing up a 3-1 playoffs lead to the Rangers (the first time). The front office getting a clean sweep, with barely-veiled references to their leadership, or rather lack thereof, being the cause. Sid remembers how much closer to Geno he felt after their post-Olympics conversation, how much they talked that summer, hours on the phone railing at ownership, at management, at their teammates.

He’d wondered why Geno brought that up after his 500th goal. It had felt personal, almost, to hear him give up such a private, important detail like when they really started to consider each other family to the public.

Now, though, Sid knows why. That was the bond. It was the bond, which had sat patiently for a decade, pushing Geno closer to Sid, making him beg for time on Sid’s line, which—really, shouldn’t that have been a clue? He puts up 11 points in five games and suddenly wants to switch to wing? Geno’s always said that the Penguins were Sid’s team, always deferred to him and stepped back and let him take the spotlight, but at the expense of his own points production? It was the bond sensing a weakness, a stumbling in Sid’s ability to lead the team on his own, that pushed Geno up off his own line to Sid’s side. Geno never would have argued so hard to give up his role otherwise, especially not when his line was helping keep the team afloat.

After the Anaheim game, they’d stood in the parking lot for almost 20 minutes, Geno holding them up as he braced himself against the car, before someone found them. The athletic trainers had come running first, then the medical staff, and they’d been examined in separate rooms. Sid had been allowed to drive himself home, but Geno was still in with Vyas when he left, sitting on an exam table and shaking so hard he had to lean against a trainer to stay upright.

Everything in Sid had screamed at him to stay, but Kevin had firmly ushered him onward, and Sid had no choice but to go home.

And then Geno missed practice. A maintenance day, Sully called it, but the twanging discontent at the periphery of Sid’s sensation said otherwise, and he’d have gone straight to Geno’s after practice if he hadn’t been firmly warned off doing so. He needs space, Vyas had said. He’s not adapting as well as you to the bond, and proximity is pushing him past his own limits. He can’t help it. You need to give him today, and he’ll be better tomorrow. This will take time for the two of you to adjust before it’s smooth.

When Geno shows up for the game, though, the circles under his eyes are so dark that Kris is at his side immediately, brow furrowed with worry as he corrals Geno off to a corner of the lounge to talk to him. Geno listens, but doesn’t do anything except shake his head, even when Kris gets more animated, talking with his hands and getting in Geno’s space.

Sid leaves them to it. Kris knows what happened, is one of the few people they told, but there’s nothing he or anyone else can do. There’s nothing Sid can do, even, except keep playing and listen to the staff and hope that whatever is keeping Geno from adjusting resolves itself soon.

They can’t avoid each other in the game, though. Sid doesn’t think they’ve ever shared this much ice time in their whole careers as they have the last two games. Every shift, every faceoff, Geno’s there at his left, crouched down and staring at the puck, waiting for it to drop and play to start. On the bench they bend together over the iPad, and even Ricky trying to sit between them at Vyas’s request after the first period doesn’t last more than a few shifts.

Sid feels like he’s orbiting something, their gravitational pulls drawing them closer and closer together; collision feels inevitable and imminent. He can’t stay away from Geno, and he doesn’t want to.

Geno on his wing is a revelation. He’s settling into it now, digging in the corners and whipping the puck around the boards back to the point, doing all the dirty work to set up the rest of their skaters for a goal that he doesn’t get a single bit of credit on the scoresheet for. Sid knows, though, can feel the bond humming when they’re clicking out there, knows that his passes to Geno are going to hit every time, knows that Geno will find him through traffic and set him up no matter what.

It’s the third period when Geno starts swearing on the bench.

Sid scoots closer and tries to talk to him, but Geno shakes his head vehemently and hits his stick on the boards, going off in Russian to himself, and when he stands up and moves down the bench, Sid gives up.

They get the win. It’s hockey night in Canada, so Sid has to grab some branded towel and talk to the kid from Sportsnet, but his mind is a million miles away.

It’s like watching from a distance when he hears himself almost say he loves Geno on national television.

He’s able to backtrack, soften it and change what he was about to say, but when he finally escapes to the locker room, his hands are shaking as he unties his skates.

Sid can practically see Geno at home, pacing his kitchen and fighting with himself over how he feels. It’s the same conflict that’s been bubbling up since Halloween night in Sid, the one he didn’t notice until Geno left after the game. The same fear, the same worry, the same realization that for years there’s been something there that neither of them have seen.

Sid isn’t adapting better to the bond at all, it turns out. He’s just been better at folding himself in denial over what it meant.

[thegayloragenda]

Okay I want to put all of my current predictions out here (these are subject to change, of course):

• I think this show is going to get a little more colorful or a little bit more gay with each show because I think she’s running out the clock.

• I am CLOWNING for an eventual pronoun change during surprise songs.

• I think Karlie will probably show up again. And if she shows up for the rep announcement I will die dead.

• I’m also clowning for a rainbow variation of every outfit or perhaps a debutation variation if she plans to drop them together. Maybe a karma outfit. Idk. I don’t really know what is coming next in regard to music or if there will be anything (what if she just went black out for a year and then dropped rep next December 😂).

• I’m split because I think she’s either going to continue this Travis stunt until the Super Bowl or she’ll break up with him while on tour (if it’s real that’s totally fine but the way this relationship has been crammed down our throats gives me the ick so bad). I have no idea how that breakup will go down especially since they’ve made an entire Christmas movie about this relationship.

• I’m still assuming we’ll get a proposal / breakup.

Overall, I don’t think Taylor Swift would pander to this side of the fandom the way she has if she didn’t have a plan to blow everything up. I assume she’s a good person. I assume she’s supportive of the fans who see her. I’ve been in this fandom long enough to know what it looks like when she’s in the closet and when she isn’t. The closet isn’t even glass anymore. The closet is just invisible at this point so if she’s just a straight girl who loves rainbows, she’s absolutely diabolical in the very worst ways.

And before anyone comes for me, yes she can be bi or pan or whatever she wants to be. I don’t care about muses or labels. I notice patterns and I can’t help but connect the dots. I see bi and lesbian dresses and her calling attention to them so that’s where my focus is. I care about freedom for her (whatever that looks like) and I also think some clarity about who she actually is will help a lot of us decide if we want to keep supporting her and giving her our money. I’m placing my bet on her being who I think she is so I’m here to support her until the end of this roller coaster ride.

I will make a post on the final day of this tour but I just want to say this: I have had the TIME OF MY LIFE in this labyrinth. I have made lifelong friends because of this side of the fandom. Thank you to ALL of my friends on here who have followed me and commented on my posts and said such kind things. Thank you to everyone who has messaged me their insights and theories. And finally, thank you to my fans who have messaged me your homophobic, brain-rotted hate comments. Good luck in the aftermath!

And to Taylor (if you ever see this), thank you for keeping my mind so stimulated. I will probably never get dementia because of you. You have been so good for my brain health. Thank you for teaching me about my own history as a queer girlie. Thank you for helping me heal my relationship with my neurodivergent self. Thank you for being the “mother” who saw me when my own mother just talks about how gross and wrong gay people are. Thank you for being kind and strong and brave in the face of shame and fear and danger. Thank you for leading a revolution of New Romantics! No one does it like you, girl. I love you so much. I hope you got a giggle over the chaos and the wrong predictions. I hope this tour brought you joy and hope and peace and healing. I know I haven’t always seen eye to eye with some of your choices, but I do respect you and I do hope the rest of your life is sunshine and rainbows and you get to hug your mom forever and take really long naps with your person after all of this is over. Long live 💜

Update: I do think the election plays a big role in how loud she can be. @casuallycruel131313 pointed this out, too. We’ll get way more once Kamala has been elected! I think Canada shows will be wildddd.

[camryn-haitani]

Sam golbach smut plsss I need him bro he's so fine

he’s so yummy i can’t😩

hey there, honey

Sam Golbach x Reader

you and sam met at a bar and hit it off but uh oh, no phone number. he surprisingly meets you again at the same bar but with some other guy?

TW: SMUT, “one night stand”, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering, praise, oral (both receiving), one night stand to lovers, alcohol mention, slight choking, misunderstanding, pet names (pretty girl, darling/darlin’, honey, princess), aftercare

lowercase intended

🚨i do not condone having sex while under the influence. everything is consensual in this fic🚨

“i need dick.” you slam your forehead on the bar counter but you never made contact because of a hand blocking your way. “well, you pretty straight forward, aren’t ya?”

you look up to see a blond man with mesmerizing blue eyes. “another round ooooof…..?” he made a questioned look at you. “tequila.” you answered. “ahh a woman of taste. i like that.” the man sat down next to you.

“so what’s a pretty lady like you doing in a bar all alone?” he questioned. you raised your eyes to him but your head never came up. “wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy.” you nod your head as thanks to the bartender as they bring your shots. “that’ll be $8.” they said. you pull out your wallet but he beat you to it. “i’d never let a pretty lady pay for her drinks in front of me.”

“alright mr. big man,” you cross your arms as you sit up right and fully look at him, “why’d you come over here? you see a girl all alone and thought you could get some?” you suspect.

“no no not at all. wanna introduce myself. i’m sam golbach.” he sticks his hand out to shake. you pause for a second and give him a distrustful look. “come oooon, i saved you from bashing your head against the counter, didn’t i?” sam states. “alright. i’m y/n.” you meet his hand in the middle and give him a firm shake.

sam raises his shot glass in the air, waiting for you. “cheers to….” he pauses to think. “being single?” you finish. “to being single.” he says back as you both meet your glasses with a lil *clink*. you down your drinks and proceed to talk about anything and everything with sam.

as the night goes on, you find yourself pressed against supposedly sam’s car with your dress hiked up and his fingers between your dripping legs.

“shush darlin’ don’t wanna cause a scene, do we?” sam asked. you shake your head no. “good girl, that’s it. you’re making a mess all over my fingers, aren’t you?” you nod your head. as soon as his fingers were poking and prodding all the right spots, he pulls them out. you stutter a whine from your throat but sam covers your mouth. “what did i say about being quiet. now get your ass in my car and i’ll teach you how to be quiet.”

you get in his car and he drives off to a hotel that wasn’t far from the bar. he pays for whatever room is available and hurries inside. in the elevator ride up, he ever so lightly grabs the sides of your neck and pulls you in to kiss you. the lack of air cutting off to your head makes you dizzy and aroused for more. sam hears the ding of the elevator and pulls away.

he drags you to y’all’s room, opens the door, pushes you inside and begins to undress you as you do him. you barely get your bra off when he throws you on the bed. he kisses all down your thighs.

“please sam, don’t tease me like this. i’ve been so good for you.” your plead. “but pretty girl, can i not worship your body?” he asks. sam has his hand’s all over your tits. groping, squeezing, teasing your nipples. his eye contact with you is intense too which you don’t wanna look away. his lips latch onto the fat of your chest. he sucks like his life depends on it. he only sticks to your boobs because he knows it’s a work day tomorrow but he just also can’t get enough of your perky tits.

sam grabs your throat to pull you up to his level. you mainly get up in your own but the pressure is just so arousing. he lets out a sigh, “get on top of me, doll. i wanna see your tits bounce when you ride my cock.”

he lays himself down and waits for you to climb on top. you straddle him as sam pushes into you, but not too much as to hurt you. “say when you’re ready, mkay?” he asks. you nod your head as you adjust to his size.

your pain turns into pleasure when the stinging goes down. “i’m ready, sam. please i need it. i need you.” you plead. “such a naughty girl i have here. don’t worry,” he pushes the rest of himself deeper into you, “i’ll take goooood care of you, princess.” you moan aloud from his sudden action.

your hands fall on his chest as your ass bounces against his pelvis while his hands are gripping the life out of your waist. he helps you move up and down his leaking cock just the way he likes. you toss your head back when he pushes you all the way down with his tip hitting that oh so good spot.

the sound of skin slapping, the sweat, the smell of sex, everything was perfect to you. this is all you craved for. a man who is willing to make both of you get the most out of the pleasure of sex. this is who you need. just alone from this act, you knew sam was the man who would take care of you when you were sick, the man who would make your days happy when it all went to shit, the man who would always be there for you, day and night. you want sam. you need sam

you snap back into reality when his moans get more high pitched, his breathing more ragged, and his hands losing grip on your waist, so you had an idea. you stop your movement and position yourself to where your feet are flat against the bed and your legs more spread than they were before. you start you up and down, and the occasional grinding, and sam dies and goes to heaven. his tip reaching even deeper than he was before. he feels the most of what he’s ever felt.

“sa-m.. go-nna.. cu-um..” you manage to let out. he understands what he has to do.

he can’t control himself. he’s gonna cum, quick. his grip tightens and slams your hips on his pelvis while he paints your walls.

you fall into his chest and immediately pass out. sam gathers what strength he has left, picks himself up and gets a warm washcloth. he runs it over wherever has cum or sweat on you and makes sure you’re all clean. he wipes himself up and lays down next to you, falling asleep with his arm around your waist.

…

your eyes burn from the sun as you open them fully. sam still asleep on your other side. you find your phone and check the time.

“shit shit shit…” you rush out of bed, put you clothes on, order an uber and go back to your apartment.

you unlock your door and call your boss. “i’m sososososo sorry, boss. i overslept and running late. take it off my paycheck, or something. just please don’t fire me.” you say pulling your shoe on your foot. your boss laughs lightly, “don’t worry, you’re fine. just come down and we’ll get it sorted out.” “thank you so much” you say. you hop in your car and go to work.

sam on the other hand, rolled over in bed and notices you aren’t there. he swipes his hand over where you slept multiple times but, no you. he sits up and rubs his eyes, still confused on where you went. sam picks up his phone to text you then he remembers, he never got your number. his chest fills with dread, he’ll never see you again. he picks up his clothes and anything else he brought and checks out of y’all’s room.

not wanting to waste anymore money, sam walks home. it’s surprisingly not far from the hotel but it’s still a long walk. meanwhile you are driving to work, rushing against the time to not be any more late. finally, you get to your desk and sigh of relief and as soon as you sit down, you immediately wanna go home.

sam returns home and goes straight to colby’s room. “hey dude, can i ask you a question?” sam asks. “sure, what’s up?” colby’s sits up right to listen to his question. “do you ever long to see someone you only met once?” sam walks over to colby. “hmm… no not really. why?” colby answers. ‘i’ll tell him later’ he says to himself. “don’t worry about it colbs, but thanks anyway.” sam walks out.

*couple hours later*

you find yourself in the slimmest, sluttiest, sexiest dress you could ever own, in hopes sam is there to see you like this. since last night, he’s never left your head and your panties unsoaked. you get in your car and make your way to the bar.

sam walks again for some reason. he felt as if he needed to be walking to the bar. he didn’t know why but he followed it. his mind in the clouds when a woman pushes herself against him. sam puts his arms in the air to not touch her but she keeps persisting that she be all up on him.

you stop at a red light, pull your visor down to fix your mascara, and when you flip it back up, you see your blond man… with a woman pushing her tits in his face. your mind immediately goes to the depths and figure that he’s taking her to the bar with him. your eyes dull and drive off when the lights flashed green.

sam finally pushes her off him and adjusted his shirt. he briefly brushed off his encounter with her and continues to walk to the bar.

he pushes the door open and immediately tries to find you. he doesn’t know why, but he needs to see you again. even if it was just a one night stand, he longs to see your beautiful face again. but to his avail, he finds you flirting with another man. a man that’s not him, a man who looks at you with nothing but lust and not one ounce of love. looking at you as if you were just a human fleshlight. sam takes his leave to the bar counter and orders him a drink. he hears your giggle from behind him, the same one you gave him when he told you his corny joke. he looks to his side to see you attached to his arm, laughing at the guys obviously unfunny joke.

“oh, i didn’t see you. where’s your girl? the one who was all over you?” you asked. “i didn’t bring any girl, she was just someone who wanted a man’s attention. i pushed her off and came here, hoping to find you…” he painfully said. you like at him with sadness. “come on, sugar. i’ll show you what a real man can do to you.” the guy said to you. you cringe at his words and reluctantly follow. sam stays seated to sip on his drink.

you and the other guy were dancing. him pressing his hard on against you but it just made you feel uncomfortable. you want sam, you need sam. you saying those words to him, broke your heart like glass shattering on linoleum. you mind wanders as your body sways less and less. “what’s up, doll face? you’re not grinding onto me no more.” the man says with no intention of being worried about you. “nothing. you know what,” you pause while shoving your drink in his chest, “ima get a hotel. pay for our drinks like a man should, if i could even call you one, and don’t follow me.” you walk off. “whatever, bitch.” he mumbles under his breath while going to find another girl to flirt with.

sam however, never meant to listen to your conversation, but he heard ‘you’ and ‘hotel’, so he’s gonna try and find you any way he can. he looks up any close hotels from the bar and hurries to the closest ones. he needs you, not sexually, but emotionally. just in that one night you two spent together, he felt such a deep connection with you. sam needs you.

you check into your room, throw off your shoes, unstrap your bra, and toss yourself on the bed. buzzed from the drinks and shots, you lazily scroll through your phone.

sam runs to every check in desk to ask if you’re there. he runs and runs and runs. he needs to find you, he needs your touch, sam needs you. he’s so desperate to find you, tears prick his eyes. he stops in front of the last hotel within a 10 mile radius of that bar. this was his last chance.

a knock at the door interrupts your doomscrolling. you groan and pick yourself up, not caring if you’re not wearing a bra. you unlock the padlock on the top of the door and open it to see him.

“hey there, honey.”

- - - - - -

i’m sorry if this wasn’t all smut, my mind had one thing and ran with it. i apologize if this wasn’t what you asked for

[heygirltimeformorning]

I'm back on my feral cat shit again.

I give you: Eddie freaking out about seeing Buck's dick.

This is just, very close to crack fic, but whatever, man.

Most of it is going under a cut bc there there be talk of penises.

Eddie realizes he’s gay on a Sunday afternoon when he walks into the locker room after a call where Buck had gotten up close and personal with the business end of an elephant, and Buck is naked, toweling his hair off, still grumbling about elephant shit and why the fuck animal control had a weight limit, and something about turkeys and llamas, but Eddie’s brain goes offline when he sees Buck’s dick.

Look, it’s just there. It’s not like he’d been looking, he’d just glanced over at Buck, and there it was. It’s not even the first time he’s seen Buck’s dick (the showers are communal, he’s seen everyone’s dicks, if they have them) but this is, like, full frontal; it’s the first time Eddie has come eye-to-eye, so to speak, with Buck’s dick, and look, Eddie is not a dick expert, but Buck’s dick is -- well, it’s not small, even soft, not even close, and Eddie yelps, like one of those little rat dogs getting stepped on, and leaves the locker room immediately, which is totally normal behavior after seeing his best friend’s dick.

“Eddie?” Buck pokes his head around the door of the locker room, brows knit together in concern.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Eddie says, in response to the question on Buck’s face. “I’m fine. Just -- uh -- tripped over - over - something. I’m fine.”

Eddie is not fine. He hobbles through the rest of the shift -- there isn’t much left of it -- and then he goes home, avoiding Buck’s offer of post-shift food, which is their ritual, now that Chris is in Texas.

The problem is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. Well, that isn’t the problem, but the problem is that when he thinks about Buck’s dick, he has other thoughts. It would be one thing if he just thought about Buck’s dick like wow good for him, but Eddie wants to see it again. He wants. He wants, that’s the problem. Frank would have a field day with that, but Eddie is not sharing this with Frank (or anyone).

He’s been on the cusp of a gay realization for -- well, awhile. It’s been coming - somewhere between the cheerleader with the broken pelvis, and confusing his hatred of Tommy for homophobia when it was jealousy - Eddie might have been in the closet, but he wasn’t stupid. The problem wasn’t that he was (apparently) gay, or bi or whatever (he hasn’t had time to experiment with labels -- or, rather, he’s had nothing but time to experiment with labels, but it doesn’t interest him that much), the problem was that his not-straight feelings were, apparently, manifesting as lust about his best friend. Realizing he’s gay? Fine. Realizing he wants to get up close and personal with a penis? Also fine. Realizing the penis he wants to get up close and personal with is one specific penis -- the one attached to his best friend? Very much not fine.

And what’s he supposed to do with that? More specifically, who is he supposed to talk to about that? He can’t exactly call Buck up and say hey, I saw your dick in the shower. Congratulations, by the way, but now I can’t stop thinking about what I want you to do to me with it, now can he? Buck has a boyfriend. Buck does not need Eddie’s congratulations or his complicated feelings.

coming soon to AO3 :)

[voxofthevoid]

relate to being turned off from satosugu bc of the fandom. especially being on twitter makes me feel crazy omg bc i'll see posts where people are straight up acting like gojo was completely fine with what geto did bc gojo is just oh so down bad for him and loves him more than anyone else in the world and he doesnt care about anything he just wants geto back. and that is just. so untrue and also so boring, imo.

Because to me, gojo truly *is* a good person in his actions. he says crass things and maybe his mentality can be detached at times, but he always helps people where it counts. Even when he was taking Riko's body away and he asked geto if he should just kill the cult members and geto said no- I have a hard time picturing gojo actually going through with it even if geto *had* said yes. Because for all that gojo postures, I don't think he truly has that kind of bloodlust and rage in him, imo. Not even saying that I think killing those cult members would've been bad, or that Gojo would never ever kill anybody (simply not true), I just simply don't think gojo wouldve stopped walking, turned around, and killed allll those people in that instance (or if he did, I think he wouldve felt,,, off about it afterwards, despite what he said).

But I see so many stsg shippers who act like the only reason gojo was heartbroken about the situation was just because geto left him, and not bc, yaknow, geto committed reprehensible atrocities and became a supremacist. and i'm like,,, are we watching the same show? it's truly such a BAFFLING perspective of the relationship to me. like why erase their moral differences ? doesn't that make the ship more interesting? Sometimes I feel like the reason they do that is bc they can't handle the fact that Geto post-defection is seriously NOT a good person. at all.

stsg as a ship could be sooo much more interesting, imo, if people didn't erase the fact that geto BETRAYED gojo with what he did. not just the leaving. the village massacre, the parricide, the fact that he had no shame about it and stuck by his actions. all of those things betrayed gojo. bc i think gojo truly does want to help people, and he thought that, no matter how hard it was, he would always have geto along with him to do it, and that would make the pressure easier. instead geto chose to become one of the people that makes gojos job harder, lmao.

i think if shippers actually acknowledged that fact the ship wouldn't feel so fucking boring to me.

I’d save you from Twitter if I could, friend. Not saying other sites are free of harebrained idiots. I have Getou and satosugu blocked here for a reason, and I’ve seen screenshots of rancid fucking takes from TikTok and Instagram. Even Reddit—and I’m talking about canon discussion subreddits that generally ban ship talk—didn’t spare me from having to see people’s most reductive takes on this ship. But Twitter in particular seems to be where brain cells go to die.

Nothing in the world can make satosugu compelling to me, but objectively, it’s a ship with rich potential—for angst, for drama, for fluff, for toxicity, for love, for hate, for all of it combined. Like you’ve said, one of the most interesting facets of their relationship is how their bond culminates in betrayal. I’m personally quite interested in the fact that Gojou killed Getou despite loving him, after sparing him for eleven years because of the very same love. It’s not like Getou was ever harmless—he was a special-grade curse user, not the kind of threat you want running around. His cult activities and killings weren’t exactly subtle either. That angle—the fact that love makes Gojou turn a blind eye to Getou’s actions until he crosses a line even Gojou can’t abide—is very, very interesting to me as someone quite obsessed with Gojou’s characterization. People who have an equivalent interest in Getou would find plenty there to peel apart, probably. The two of them together would also offer rich, nuanced grounds for exploration, and I’m sure there are people doing just that.

But fandom spaces as a whole have become exceptionally sanitized recently. I’m not talking about people who generally simply prefer fluff and write that regardless of canon dynamics; there’s nothing wrong with that. We’re all allowed our self-indulgent tastes. But what you’ve described—a tendency to erase characters’ dark or grey morality, to think along black-and-white lines that put people into neat little boxes, to remove unsavory or unhealthy elements from relationships—has been plaguing fandoms more and more, especially fandoms with a large number of young(er) fans. JJK is definitely one of those.

I’ve seen similar takes on a lot of JJK ships as well as platonic relationships, like goyuu shippers asking why fic authors write Gojou as predatory toward Yuuji in canon settings with their canon ages (yeah, a real mystery why a 28 y/o romancing/fucking a 15 y/o would be written as predatory) and dad!Gojou truthers earnestly arguing that Gojou has paternal feelings toward Megumi (or Yuuji or his students in general) and is also such a good dad. I’ve seen it with even sukugo and tojigo, in the brief days before both wound up on my blacklist.

Basically, it’s a fandom-wide issue in the English-speaking JJK sphere (I’m sure the Eastern side and other language/region-specific sides have their own debates and issues, but I’m unfamiliar with those), and because satosugu is the biggest ship in this sphere, it has a significantly larger number of voices making themselves heard—as well as a significantly larger number of nuance-allergic dumbasses making themselves heard. The latter tends to be so fucking loud, often drowning out the other voices. It can feel inescapable, even with filters and shit.

[callme-aprilroseisha04]

I also like to imagine what eggman would think cause this is like so confusing for him. ok so u wake up back in ur base, don’t know why but it doesn’t matter cause u need to get that crystal thing but its not there and also there’s like a weird amount of blood? like did someone die here or something? and also it smells kinda like smoke which makes u think there was a fire or maybe some sort of electrical blast maybe, u dunno but since the thing u wanted isn’t there u just decide to go back and return with a new plan later and after a while u come back to fight with ur enemy and.. WHAT TGE HECK HAPPENED TO THEM OH MY GOD WHY IS HIS ARM LIKE THAT?????? yea u have made saw traps and sharp stuff like that that coouldve cut him but like... the wound wouldn’t look like that tho. did he get mauled by a bear or smth?????? so that’s weird but also he just won’t talk for long stretches of time now. won’t even move. and you’d think that’d be an advantage cause he can’t see u coming but the moment he does he just goes ham for no reason. like he starts screaming at u for… something??? ur not sure what he’s taking about but he’s rlly mad about it and he basically breaks everything in 3 seconds so u generally try to avoid him when he’s like that but for some reason when he’s with his friends he’s completely fine and normal and ur not sure if he’s faking being normal or if something else going on and nothing is really making sense and also for some reason he just super hates metal now and u try to search through metals memories to figure out what’s going on but nothing turns up and u just sit there in confusion over everything and sometimes sonic vaguely references some sort of “incident” and at this point ur just trying to figure out what happened cause this is too much but every attempt u make at trying to learn what happened NO ONE will tell u not to mention that your enemy’s “””greatest””””” rival (yeah right) and them are really, really close now? it to the point where ur unsure if their dating or not its so weird cause like 1 month ago they hated each others guts also the greatest rival just STRAIGHT UP IS MISSING A LEG NOW???? like wtf??? also ur rival hates any loud screeches. u have no explanation for that but he tried to kill u over it and almost succeeded so u will respect it. absolutely bonkers.

imagine if one day your older brother, the person you care about most, just suddenly showed up different. imagine if in a single flash of light, the person you cared about most became so mentally and physically destroyed that his greatest rival had to pull him out. imagine hearing your hero, the person you’ve always relied on, the brave one, screaming in the middle of the night because every time he tries to sleep he keeps reliving what happened to him over and over again and you have no idea how to help. imagine hearing him scream that one night and just wanting to not check. to pretend that it doesn’t exist, at least for a moment. just not wanting to see your sibling in that much pain. but you go anyway because you know that he needs you right now. . imagine the person closest to you became hurt in a way so bad that they can’t even understand it, never mind you. wouldn’t you be angry? wouldn’t you be mad at the world for doing this? I think tails would. I think tails would be angry.

[cadaverre]

jesusssss fuck i feel like i have to beg for any attention

[buckingham-ashtray]

Not Them still haunting me even on my hike.

More than one hundred miles away from home and I am still unable to escape Them. Not even physically.

I can't anymore. THEY WON’T LEAVE ME ALONE.

(watch me lose my absolute mind in the tags💀

[sodafizzyart]

Meant to draw something more explicit but I couldn’t get through the exposition

[fakeoutbf]

five stages of grief but it’s five stages of social anxiety

[romance-incubomp3]

like if therapy and meds help you that’s so cool but it drives me insane how people treat those as some magical cure all that EVERYONE needs to seek out even though the psych industry is fucked and biased and not affordable and if trying to find a good therapist or find the right meds is doing nothing but causing you even more stress and anxiety even after you’ve been trying to get help for years than maybe it’s not worth it at that point

[canisvesperus]

Ben Solo is baby (honk honk), Daenerys Targaryen is the rightful queen of Westeros, Anders was right (bombing the Catholic Church is always morally correct), and Eridan has never done a single thing wrong thing in his life.