#cheque especially

[pharawee]

I actually just... really like Venus in the Sky.

[hyuuukais]

my double tap like had stopped working 😔

[heebiegeebee]

Maaaaaan...

...takes a lotta damn nerve to be standing right in front of me, with my very obviously jewish outfit, look me right in the eye, and start talking about how your jewish landlord fucked you over.

[tita-ferreira]

[redvanillabee]

when you absolutely hate a holiday but you like any excuse to wear fancy dress so you wear those festive clothes in the most non-festive, most rebellious colours

[seobinghard]

₊‧ʚ・ gullible ⊹ ̟˖ ʚ

18+ MDNI

dom!yunho, dom!mingi x afab!sub!reader ⭑ tags: best friend!au ⭑ tw: corruption kink, size kink, dubcon, manipulation, subtle sub/dom space, somnophilia, praising, finger sucking, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie. lmk if i missed anything. don't like, don't read. ⭑ summary: you should've known better.

best friends!yunho and mingi love having you sit in between them. whether you're on the subway, at the club or on the couch binge watching old hollywood movies. you just look so small and fragile with your cute glossy eyes and pouty lips, they can't help but feel the urge to protect and be close to you all the time. sometimes, they'll sneak their arms around your waist or slip their hands between your thighs, large palms gently caressing your bare skin, but that's only because the movie is scary and they want to help you relax. right?

when you've had one too many drinks at hongjoong's after parties, yunho would beckon you to come over and sit on his lap. "y/n, c'mere." you'll snuggle up to him like a little kitten and lay your legs on mingi's as he absentmindedly fiddles with the straps of your heels, hooded eyes flitting from your lips to the curve of your breasts. from afar, people are staring and whispering but you don't care. because yunho and mingi always tells you "they don't know us, baby."

and you believe them. you believe them completely because best friends always tell the truth, right?

yunho and mingi are always there to catch you when you fall.

flat tire? calling yunho. "i'm on my way, angel." bad day? facetiming mingi. "talk to me, pretty girl." every time there's a minor inconvenience in your life, you're running straight to your favourite boys because they just know how to handle anything and everything with such ease and responsibility. problems fixed. cheque signed. "it's okay, angel, we got this."

no one loves you like yunho and mingi.

they love you so much.

so when mingi tells you to wear his t-shirt and only your panties to bed, you happily nod "okay!" with no second thoughts because he only wants you to feel comfortable when they cuddle you to sleep, right? that must be it.

i mean, you do this all the time; cuddling. it's a way for them to feel closer to you; 'bond' with you, as they put it.

you love cuddling sessions with yunho and mingi, they're always so gentle with you. your petite frame a perfect fit between their broad chests, legs the perfect length for mingi to slide his knee in between as he spoons you. your skin is so soft he could tear you open like a present but he wouldn't do that. no, not to his sweet angel girl. so instead, he snakes his arm under your shirt and pulls you closer to his body so you can feel how much he loves you.

"mhm, so perfect for me," he whispers in your hair, fingers playing with the thin lace of your panties. you smell like fresh cut roses.

"you like it when we touch you, angel?" yunho asks calmly, tracing his finger along your jaw and down your neck. face propped on his elbow, he watches with a smile as you soften under his touch, nodding and purring at the affection you're receiving from both men.

"i like it, yuyu."

"you'll do anything for me and mingi, right, baby?"

"mhm, anything for yuyu and mingi," you slur, fatigue creeping up your spine.

you feel mingi smile against the nape of your neck.

something about the air feels tight and different tonight but you don't question it. you don't want to question it. especially when yunho stares at you with so much tenderness, it leaves your heart grasping for more. it's intoxicating; their scents—clean and musky like the faint trace of skin.

as the night unfolds, your eyes flutter shut as sleep takes over you.

you love best friends!yunho and mingi. nothing in the world comes even close to the euphoria of being the object of their adoration.

so when you wake up to soft pants in your ear and aching an pain between your legs, will you still love them?

"f-fuck."

mingi's groan snaps you out of your haze as you gradually slip back into your senses only to find your panties slid to the side and your best friend's sloppy wet dick inside your barely stretched-out cunt.

the sound of skin on skin cuts through the quiet of the room as mingi slams his hip into your ass at a pace so desperate, so rough it leaves you clawing at yunho's sweater with tears in your eyes. "y-yuyu? what's happening?"

yunho looks at you with eyes you've never seen on him before—chilling and dark with lust. he's quiet, eyes trailing the way your breasts bounce with every hard thrust you're forced to take from behind. soft moans slip past your lips, melding with his best friend's strained groans and the squelchy sound of your sobbing cunt.

"told you she likes it," mingi chuckles, voice crazed and raspy, one hand sliding up to grab at your neck. "yeah, you like that, baby? tell yunho you like being woken up to my dick inside you."

"i– ngnhh– i like–" your mewls are cut off when mingi slips two fingers between your folds, toying at your clit like it belongs to him. like you belong to him.

"oh, my angel," yunho coos, caressing your cheek before slipping his thumb inside your mouth. "you're so naughty."

you want to tell him 'no'—no, you didn't ask for this. but who are you to act like you're not enjoying it when you're a spluttering mess in your best friend's bed.

"shh, why're you crying?" his words are so sweet yet mockery drips from every syllable. "now, now, don't cry, my angel. be good for mingi."

yunho revels in the sight of your teary cheeks as your tongue laps around his thumb, drool leaking down your cheek and onto your pillow. god, you're fucking beautiful, he thinks, feeling his dick swell with every helpless whimper you make. he grabs your jaw and slips his tongue in your pretty little mouth, sucking at your bottom lip, and swallowing any confusion you're still harbouring, because you're not meant to have any.

the rules have been clear from the start; you belong to them. not their fault you're too gullible to see what's in front of you all this time.

"you said you'll do anything for us, remember?" yunho breaths.

"y-yes— nngh—" you whimper, feeling the knot tighten in your stomach. "mingi, i can't—"

you're close and mingi can sense it from the way you're clenching around him.

"fuck, cum for me, baby. that's it ... that's it."

it only takes you digging your nails in his hair and letting out a scream of his name for mingi to cum. he empties inside you and drops his head on the pillow, letting out a guttural groan against the back of your neck as you both come down from your high.

"such a good girl," yunho smiles, stroking your hair lovingly, "always so good for us."

his smile quickly fades.

"now turn around."

© seobinghard 2025. all rights reserved.

m.list

[kaedeichinose]

my mom didnt get her first paycheque and was freaking out and when i checked they somehow got the entirely wrong routing number for her bank so i think its fixed now

[buntanteen]

bestie fwb!mingyu headcanons (nsfw)

summary: kim mingyu and reader's bestie fwb dynamic headcanons :3

contains: 18+ nsfw writing so mdni!! implications that reader is smaller than gyu

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

bestie!minyu who is just a poor puppy not catching a break from anyone 😔 especially from you lmao. you're one of his biggest supporters but also biggest teasers. post-concert, you'll be imitating how he's trying to make carats swoon with his charms (the both of you know how proud you are of him <3 you just love seeing him pouty) 

bestie!mingyu who lets you use his chest as a stress balls. you once said "honk honk" while squeezing them and got your mingyu tiddies card revoked for a week😢

during bestie!mingyu’s night dance practices to finish, he'll come whine to you that "jeonghan hyung is being mean🥺" or complain about whichever member is pulling jokes on him. he should've known better that you’d be riling him right with them 🥰

fwb!mingyu who comes home to bury his face in your chest after a long day. you think he's knocked out...only for him to start licking, nipping and sucking marks onto your skin :3

bestie!mingyu who will always provide you delicious meals😌😌 is constantly cooking you a something when you come over and has deemed you his official taste tester! if you insist to cook alongside him, he'll refuse. he might let you peel the veggies tho <3

when you go out to eat, bestie!mingyu will always insists on picking up the cheque. since you get pouty about him not letting you pay, he lets u buy the dessert at the convenience stores or cute lil cafes as a compromise

bestie!mingyu who always asks you to take pretty boyfriend pics of him for his carats🥹 ofc you oblige, loving to see his fans fawn over new pictures that you so carefully asking him to pose for  

fwb!mingyu who begs to eat you out and hits you his 🥺 puppy eyes so you to let him (you were going to anyways)

bestie!mingyu who comes to you for relaxation or advice when he's stressed out of his mind. he lets you pamper him with gentle touches and soothe away his worries with sweet words. you tuck him into your bed so he rests well to tackle the next day😊

feeling safe enough to initiate touch with bestie!mingyu :) he gives as many piggy backs as you desire as long as you let him bite his fangs into your arm when he's bored 🥰 sits you in his lap in crowded group hangouts. you've insisted that he sit in yours too, but your legs became numb after 5 minutes😭😭

good puppy fwb!mingyu whimpering pleads against your neck or between your legs for you give him permission to cum while he ruts against the bed sheets 🥺

always having sleepovers with bestie!mingyu. atp you could be another roommate to the minwon household for how often you're just vibing at their place when they arrive home

fwb!mingyu who got caught sniffing your underwear post sex when you went to get him water. you end up stroking his hair with his head in your lap, jerking him off with your underwear around his cock...but you leave him blue balled as a punishment <3 "oh! i'm late to work, see you later after your tour?😘”

while he's on tour, fwb!mingyu won't have phone sex with you, but leaves you voice notes of the pretty noises he makes jerking off as payback <3

bun note: hi hi! this is my first time writing wooooo~ this was definitely self indulgent😅 i just wanna be friends with mingyu! he seems like the most fun guy to hang out with...and to get dicked down by lmao. i hope y'all enjoyed it and are doing well!! i tried for something gender neutral but i'm not sure if i achieved it? feel free to kindly give feedback <3 ς(.-‿-)

author note: do not distribute my work on other platforms without my consent. if you see my writing in places other than this tumblr account, please let me know. my writings are purely fictional fantasises for fun. the people i write about are real human beings and should still be treated as such. please do not take my writings seriously or as truth.

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐄𝐓 !

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3

he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.

you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.

"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"

☆★

"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"

a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?

★☆

"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.

your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.

"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?

...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.

your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.

a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.

his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.

not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.

[saekkas]

𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

summary: your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, itoshi rin, clingy and talkative without a care in the world. rin thinks you gave birth to a devil, one that won't let him spend time with you alone.

tags: 1.2k wc | f!reader | established relationship (they're married) | they have a kid in this | aged up characters | pro-athlete rin | kissing (nothing too suggestive), uncle sae makes an appearance

notes: happy birthday to rin itoshi q(≧▽≦q) also shout out to @okkalo because apparently great minds think alike

"black or red?" you mumble, eyes raking down your own reflection in the mirror. "what would he like better?"

at 5 pm on the third friday of every month, you always run into the same problem: date night. itoshi rin, your wonderful and adoring husband of five years, has kept the tradition of taking you out for a romantic dinner and drive throughout the city.

it started on your first anniversary when he surprised you by planning a date at a five-star restaurant that's always fully booked. back then, you were both still fresh out of college with no money to your names and you always wondered how he paid for the cheque.

fast forward years later, with your job as a top marine biologist and his as a renowned soccer player, your college romance seems so far away and yet, it's only bloomed into something far beautiful.

"dad says he likes both!"

you turn around at the words, a grin spreading across your face as you watch your bundle of joy run into the room. his legs are wobbly, and his hair is a dark mess on top of his head but the sight of him barreling straight towards you never fails to warm your heart.

"hello, my prince" you mumble, letting him bury his head into your neck. his hair tickles your skin, and you chuckle when he leaves a kiss on your collarbone. "did you have fun with your dad?"

"yeah! he bought ice cream then we went to the park to play soccer!"

he pulls away from you, bright teal eyes roaming over your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you for years when, in reality, it's only been a few hours. your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, clingy and talkative without a care in the world.

"and then we-"

"alright, squirt. time for you to leave."

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

your head snaps towards the bedroom door, your grin melting into a soft smile as your husband steps into the room. rin wears a white fitted undershirt, obviously having changed whilst you were busy with your son.

rin moves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, one your son playfully blanches at, before trying to tug the small carbon copy of himself to where his brother stands at the door.

keyword: trying.

"but i haven't finished talking to mom!" your son whines, tugging his hand out of rin's. he trudges back to you, happily wrapping his arms around your leg, poking his tongue out at your husband. "go away!"

rin grunts, walking over towards you with a growing scowl on his face. "your mom and i have a date. sae's waiting to take you outside."

"well, uncle sae can wait!" the miniature devil in disguise tightens his grip on your leg, shooting a glare at rin before showing you his best puppy eyes. "i wanna be with mom."

"uncle sae can wait, i can't."

sometimes you wonder why the two halves of your heart can never get along.

they bicker, much like how rin used to with sae. whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or night, they'd find a reason to keep on getting on each other's nerves.

you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you, especially when you know that their hardheadedness stem from their love of you.

"well you should learn how to be more patient, papa!"

"she's my wife, you little squirt."

you laugh when rin finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, almost too territorial as he grabs his son's head, moving him away from you like pulling a toy from a claw machine.

"well, she's my mama too!" his small carbon copy huffs, slapping rin's hand away, all the while shooting him a glare. "you're so annoying!"

"okay, okay, that's enough," you sigh out, pressing a kiss to rin's cheek before pushing him away gently, crouching until you're eye level with your son.

you can see rin's disgruntled face in the corner of your eye. "your dad and i have a date tonight, sweetie. will you let us go, hm? i'll cook your favorite meal when you get back from uncle sae's. how about that?"

you watch him hesitate, twitching in his spot, occasionally throwing glances at his dad before he finally says, "i want that and kisses! cuddles too!"

you wonder where he learned to be such a good negotiator.

"okay," you mumble, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before rin takes his hand, practically dragging your son to the front door where his brother stands, waiting with an amused smile. "be a good boy, okay?"

"wait, one more thing!" your little boy lurches out of rin's grip and you have to silence your laugh with a hand on your mouth, eyes crinkling in amusement at the fiery glare rin shoots him.

your son moves in, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering cheekily, "you should make dad sleep on the couch tonight."

rin calls his name, muttering what you're sure to be curses under his breath, and you watch as your son moves towards him. only to completely disregard the hand rin has outstretched in favor of sae's.

sae nods his head towards you, one you copy before waving when he takes your son into his car for a weekend away.

"finally alone," your husband mutters, his tone deep and gruff. you can see the tension melt away from his shoulders when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to his frame. "i can't believe you gave birth to a little devil."

rin has always been touchy. it's a fact he's proven time and time again, ranging from your first date until this very moment of when he glides his hand through your hair, playfully tugging at your strands.

"you look beautiful," he mumbles, moving to nuzzle his face into your neck. he trails kisses down the column of your neck, and you sigh, having already experienced the sensation, albeit, a more innocent version, only minutes ago. "ready to leave?"

"hm? who are you and what have you done to my husband?" you chuckle, giggling when he retaliates to your words by nipping on your skin. you move your hand, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "i'm kidding. you know i love it when you're all clingy and kissy."

he places one final kiss on your neck before pulling away, his eyes taking you in. "stunning," the words leave his lips as a breathy whisper, and you smile at the hazed look in his eyes.

he looks breathtakingly handsome with his hair gelled back and his undershirt wrapped tightly around his frame. you help him pull on his tuxedo, neatly pressed by your own hands only a few hours earlier, as he recounts his day out with your son.

and finally, you watch, amused when he takes off your ring and his, setting them both on your vanity drawer.

"shall we?" the words are muffled against your ring finger, the limb feeling oddly bare. rin kisses every single one of your knuckles before pressing one final kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"we shall."

he intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of your home and into his car, ready to take sweep you off your feet, just like he once did all those years ago when he made you his.

[wcters]

YOUR RELATIONSHIP

pairing: arthur hill x fem!reader

summary: a peak into your relationship with arthur

warnings/contents: swearing, sexual innuendos (lots of it, kinda went crazy with this one . . . though in my defence i was listening to his songs)

author’s note: there is something about arthur, he’s a great singer, looks amazing and hot in a weird way, and is hilarious, want a boyfriend like him

- you meet when he’s at the beginning of his music career so 2022-23

- you were at a bar where there were open mic nights and he performed

- you fell in love with his voice and you thought he was really cute ☺️

- you usually wouldn’t be the one to approach but the few drinks you had in you acted like liquid confidence

- you sought him out and find him with his friends

- you said he was good and got talking and accidentally blurted that you thought he was cute

- you were so embarrassed at yourself because that’s something sixteen-year-old you would do not twenty two-year-old you would do

- he just laughed and said he thought you were cute too

- offered to buy you a drink and you ended up going home together 🤭

- when you woke up, you immediately left because you forgot you had planned to meet up with a friend

- thank GOD you exchanged numbers the night before so you texted him what happened and said you would love to go on a date

- he agreed and you went out a couple times before he asked you to be his girlfriend ❤️

- said yes obv because who wouldn’t

- he’s cute, can sing, and a gentleman 💐

- you are a chill couple and petty equal with splitting the cheque but this man spoils you as much as he can

- date nights, gifts, flowers randomly, little notes, he has done it all

- you guys more like staying in and ordering takeout than actually going out

- you prefer chinese food and a movie to a fancy dinner in a restaurant

- you both like the comfort of your apartment and you don’t have to tone down the PDA

- you two are a VERY hands on couple (if you couldn’t gather that from the countless songs he’s written about it)

- this can be bad when he’s living with chris and george ‼️

- have been late to reservations and friend dinners too many times (it’s a bad habit, you admit it 😔)

- they don’t even ask where you were anymore, they just know 😉

- even if they didn’t know, the flushed faces and messed up hair gave it away

- they started to make bets on how late you will be

- george and arthurtv are the closest most of the time

- speaking of george and arthur, you are the one who picks and drops off the boys from platform roulette

- you are an actual blessing 🙏

- deserve so much for putting up with them when they’re drunk (and sober too)

- it takes on average 10 minutes to get them all in the car with seatbelts buckled

- arthur keeps trying to kiss you (he gets clingy, more than usual), george is being george but more rowdy, and arthurtv is spacing out and doesn’t know where he is

- but you always get everyone home safe

- you have a specific routine for arthur now to help wrangle him into bed and asleep

- includes a lot of hugging and whining

- he would be picked apart if his friends found out how he acted

- you loved it though

- at the end of the day, you and arthur end up in bed with him being the big spoon (except when he’s drunk, then he prefers little) and his snoring in your ear

- i feel like he would love when you play with his hair and scratch his head

- send him straight to sleep 💤

- you also play with the hair on the back of his neck to help with anxiety

- you’d sometimes do this before shows where he’d get really nervous

- just have to mention you’d have the best concert fits 💅

- arthur gets jealous sometimes

- especially when you use parts of his wardrobe in these outfits and they look better on you

- “well alright then, steal the fuckin’ show why don’t you” 🙄

- he’s obviously joking (is he?)

- you help dress him sometimes too

- and where’s your paycheque??

- you go to all the shows you can

- and you are the loudest in the room ‼️

- this man can always count on you to get the vibe up (though he can do it, no doubt)

- he does this thing where he winks at you during the line “but baby so do you” in late for the reservation and it makes you blush EVERY TIME

- and he knows and he does it because it makes you blush and riles you up

- the first time he did that you were not expecting it

- and let’s just say if you did have a reservation that night, you wouldn’t even be late, you’d miss it 😉

- people find you hilarious together

- lots of funny tiktok’s together

- beg to see more of you after your first few together

- he lets you in a video after awhile 🤭

- comments are just FULL of people fangirling over you

- especially if you are part of a platform roulette

- even just a couple minutes

- act like a mum with a bunch of rowdy young sons

- arthurtv and chris are your sons

- “no, george ━━ don’t do that! chris! arthur frederick come back this instant!”

- get along GREAT with his mum

- have definitely been on the mummy’s boy podcast and vibed with lisa the whole time

- it’s like your boyfriend isn’t even there

- his mum also loves you sooo much ❤️

- have mother-daughter dates with her every week ☕️

- chat shit about her son like the queens you are 👑 (just kidding . . . not really)

- if he really pissed you off you’d tell her

- he can get jealous by the amount of time you spend with his mum and his twin sister

- every holiday you go to his house they immediately steal you away

- they claim they haven’t seen you in forever but arthur calls bullshit (you facetime all the time)

- you are invited to family holidays and gatherings

- act like children together on holidays

- brings out your inner child (and mermaid 🧜‍♀️)

- because you do MAKE him play mermaids

- he says he doesn’t like it but he acts like a seven year old girl with how serious he gets 🙄

- “no, you can’t change your powers again! that’s so unfair!”

- they know you are going to get married someday 💍

- both of your parents are waiting so they can have some grandbabies

- you won’t get actual babies for a while but you do get furbabies

- you are a animal lover ‼️

- cats, dogs, insects, you name it

- you’d have a million animals if you could but arthur had to limit the amount due to you both living with chris and george

- he knows everything about you, even the things you’ve forgotten

- a drink you said you liked a couple weeks ago? it showed up in the fridge

- a chocolate you mentioned liking as a kid? he gets it for you

- and you know damn well he makes sure chris and george don’t eat it

- will hit them in the back of the head if he catches them even thinking about it

- he is the best boyfriend you have ever had ❤️

- he treats you soooo good and knows everything about you, and vice versa

[b3ach-bunn7]

I THINK YOU WERE IN MY PROFILE PICTURE ONCE

Touya is at a party he doesn’t want to be at, when he meets you. Part two here

(Fic based on the song in the title :D)

College!AU, No quirks, fluff

(Highly recommend listening to this while reading )

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Touya doesn’t really talk to people at parties.

He doesn’t even know why he goes to them. To drink, maybe, or to hook up with someone when it’s been too long since he felt skin on his own. Keigo forces him to show up more often than not, and today is one of those days where he’d rather be sitting in bed watching shitty movies than here.

College is fine. Touya can’t complain about the distance from his father, and it’d take a miracle for him to admit he misses his siblings. Even if he does. Only a little. He misses his mum more, the person she’d turned into once their father was out of the picture. Crazy what wonders a divorce can do.

But he likes the freedom. The monthly apology cheque his father deposits into his bank every month. He visits home during the holidays and most of his friends ended up at the same college as him, so he really couldn’t hate it if he tried. Life is good.

What’s not good is this fucking party. He washes his hand. He used the toilet to get away from a girl a little too eager with her hands, and he’s dreading going back down. You’re sitting on the bottom of the stairs when he notices you. Sitting in his way, actually. He doesn’t recognise you but you look his age. You’re not wearing anything that screams ‘college party’, just an old band shirt and worn out jeans. You’re nursing a can of coke he’d bet money has no alcohol in it and you’re wearing earphones. Tangled ones with washi tape around one of the wires. Cute.

He considers just asking you to move out the way. You two talking is only a waste of his time. But, he’s bored, and he’d much rather be sitting bored here with you than inside with everyone else. Especially miss handsy.

He sits down next to you, on the long steps of the frat house you’ve both found some solace in. You’re leaning on your hand, boredly looking off into the distance, and you don’t notice him at first, not until he reaches over and tugs an earphone out your ear. You turn, face slightly offended until you get a good look at him.

He’s waiting for it. The badly hidden repulsion at the scars on his body, something of that kind. But instead of lingering on those your eyes lock onto his. Your head tilts slightly.

“Your eyes are very blue.”

He scoffs slightly. “Thank you.” He wiggles the earphone in the air. “The party that bad?”

You sigh. “Yes. If you couldn’t tell from my very un-party attire I did not know I was going to be here tonight.”

You shuffle slightly so he can fit in better. “So why are you here?”

You pause your song and take out your other earbud. “Well. My friend is trying to get with one of the boys here. I am here for emotional support, but she ditched me the second we got in here.” You grumbled.

“Good on you for staying.”

“Yeah, well. She’s my ride home.”

Touya snorts and you look at him quizzically. “So. Why are you here?”

Touya adjusts himself, moving just slightly closer to you. You smell like something sweet, like vanilla, and you place your can of coke down on the floor next to you. The party goes on in the rest of the house, but it feels very far away.

“Well. I feel obligated as a college student to show up to at least some of these parties.”He mumbles and you laugh.

“You mean peer pressured like me?”

Touya frowns. “I sound like a loser when you put it like that.”

“If the shoe fits.” He shoves your shoulder and you giggle.

He moves his head slightly to peer at the band name on your shirt. You raise a brow, flicking the side of his head.

“Take me to dinner first.”

“I- Shut up, I’m trying to read your shirt.”

You giggle again and Touya reads properly as you straighten the fabric up for him . ‘Modern Baseball’ it reads, and he nods, impressed.

“Good band.” He says and you raise your eyebrows.

“You gonna ask me to name you five songs now? Their dates of birth?”

Touya snorts a laugh. “No. I look that pretentious?”

“Might do. Maybe it’s all the piercings and the bone white hair.”

He reaches up and wraps a lock of his hair around his finger. It’s getting too long now and he knows his mother would have a field day if she saw. It tickles the back of his neck and he shoots you a look.

“Uhm, I’ll have you know this colour is all natural. And the piercings are cool and they piss off my dad, so it’s a win-win.”

Your mouth opens in shock slightly, and he taps under your chin. “You’ll catch flies.”

You push his hand away. “That’s natural? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah. Get it from my mom.”

“Wow. I was gonna say, if it is dyed it looks so healthy. Soft.”

Touya tilts his head at you, letting his hair flop to the side. “You wanna cop a feel?”

You bite back a smile. “Weirdo. No.”

“Shame. It is very soft. I condition.”

“You want a medal for that?”

He looks off to the side, pretending to ponder. “That’d be good. Be nice to bring some metal home to mom.”

You laugh and it makes him nearly smiles again. You have a nice laugh, he decides, and he wants to hear it more.

“So how come I’ve never seen you around?” Touya asks, sitting up slightly.

You lean your head against the wall, looking at him under the low lights on the staircase. “Well, I’m assuming we do different degrees. What do you study?”

“Psychology.”

You perk up slightly at that. “That’s sick. That was one of my choices. I do Education, though, and that’s a whole other campus away.”

Touya hums under his breath. You turn slightly, legs stretching underneath him so you’re sitting more comfortably. He nods slightly. “That makes sense, then. I think I would've remembered you.”

You wince at his line and Touya barks a laugh at your reaction. “Ew! What the fuck was that?”

“What? I think that’s pretty good!”

“No! This is not a disney channel original, never say that to me again!” You groan.

Touya sighs dramatically. “God, fine. I’ll think of something better, I guess.”

You shake your head. You lean your head back again, and Touya’s eyes trail the line of your throat, the gold necklace that sits delicately on your collarbones. You catch him staring and he doesn’t look away.

“You okay there?”

He nods. You nod too. You let your eyes trail over his face shamelessly in turn. He expects you to linger on his scars. He doesn’t blame you. It’s scarred skin that delves down past the shirt he’s got on, from his forearms up to his palms. It was a bad accident at the hands of his father none of his family talk about anymore, and he knows it looks weird.

But you don’t.

You don’t stop for a second on them, instead letting your eyes land on his eyebrow piercing, of all things. You point to your own eyebrow.

“I like this. Your piercing.”

“Thanks.”

“Did it hurt? I want a piercing but I’m scared of the pain.” You say, rubbing your eyebrow like it’s already there.

Touya laughs slightly. “Nah, I didn't feel it. But I have a good pain tolerance, so that might be why."

You frown. “I don’t.”

“Aw. Poor baby.” You scowl at him and he grins.

“Look, the place I get it done is good. My friend Shiggy works there, he’s good. If you actually want one, go to his place. It's called the LOV.”

“Aw. For real?”

He nods. “Really for real.”

There’s a faint stench of alcohol that Touya finds always lingers in houses like these. He wonders if you think it’s coming off of him.

“I’ll take you up on that offer sometime.”

Touya studies you for a moment. “You wanna get out of here?”

Touya hopes you can hear the suggestion behind his voice. Judging by the way your eyes flicker across his face just for a second tells him you do. However, the soft smile you give him a second later does not fill him with hope.

“While I am flattered. And interested. I promised my friend I’d stay. And I don’t really do hook ups.”

You smile shyly and Touya nods. He’s not mad about it. This conversation has been the most enlightening thing he’s had in a while.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He nudges you with his elbow and your smile widens.

Touya yawns. It’s getting late and closer to the time he can acceptably call it a day. He wouldn’t call this party a bust. He met you, and he’ll never complain about free drinks. His yawning triggers yours. You rest your head on his shoulder. He acts like it doesn’t surprise him.

“I’m tired.”

“Same.” He rubs his eyes. “How is it only ten?”

You groan, eyes screwing shut. “It’s only ten? I told her we’re leaving at half eleven. That’s another hour and a half.”

Touya huffs a laugh. “There there. Your coke will keep you up. Excellent party drink, by the way.”

You frown up at him. “Shut up. I have class tomorrow, I won’t survive it hungover.”

“Valid. I’m not a fan of alcohol. I want a cigarette, though.”

You scrunch up your nose, eyes still shut. “Ew. Smoking is gross.”

Touya pouts even though he knows you can’t see him. “But it makes my voice sound all raspy and sexy.”

“Cringe.”

“Shut up.”

You sigh. Touya looks down at you and pokes your head. “You falling asleep on me?”

“I think I am. Wake me up at eleven.”

Touya rolls his eyes. “You do realise we are blocking the staircase right now?”

“So?”

“True.”

Touya pauses for a second. “Aren’t you supposed to see her at half past?”

“She’ll be too drunk to remember.”

You fumble around you for a second, almost knocking over your can of coke. He watches as you retrieve your phone. You hold up one earphone to him and out the other in your ear. Touya flicks the tape holding them together. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Don’t ask. College is expensive.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He wordlessly puts it in his ear. The short wires pulls you just a bit closer. You press play. It’s not a song he recognises, but it completely differs from the noise slipping down the corridor from the party. It’s something soft, acoustic, and your eyes droop shut again as you rest your head on his shoulder once more.

“Wake me up at eleven, okay?”

Touya feels something weird in his chest at the fact you trust him so easily. Maybe it’s some form of stupidity on your part, but he’s not complaining. It’s nice. He knows he doesn’t always look so approachable, not with all the scars and piercings and the look on his face that’s usually a mix of bored and brooding. You don’t seem to care though.

“Alright." He says.

Touya isn’t stupid. You won't speak like this again. He knows that you will probably wave goodbye when your friend gets here and that will be all. He’ll be too awkward to ask for your number and you’ll be too shy to ask for his. You will most likely never cross paths again, lost in the crowds of students that litter the halls of the college. All he’ll have to remember you is washi tape and this song he needs to remember to ask you the name of before you leave.

You breathe deeply and Touya thinks you’ve actually fallen asleep. He sinks slightly lower on the step so your neck doesn’t strain so much. A quick glance at his phone. He’s got twenty four minutes until he needs to wake you up. The party still goes on inside, and the alcohol he’s drunk is just enough to give him a light buzz, enough to ignore how the edge of the stair is digging into his ass. A hand comes up and lazily pushes your earbud back into your ear. Touya smiles slightly at the sight. He thinks the normal thing to do here is remove you from his shoulder and excuse yourself, but instead, he lets the dulcet tones of your music soothe him instead.

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Something small to try and push me out my writers block 😽 I rediscovered the song from the title and it literlaly is the PERFECT oneshot idea

I hope u all enjoy Student!Touya as much as I do cause he is my FAV thing to write. Also this fan art is exactly how I imagine him in my head

As always, leave any fic ideas in my asks and I hope u all enjoyed :P

[i-cant-sing]

I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

-

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.

[rafescherie]

Hii, I absolutely loved salt in the sugar bowl, I was wondering if you make a part 2 can it be like reader gets w Jj (or another pogue) and everyone’s like kinda fine with it and think they’re cute tg, and Rafe is just kinda sitting there watching like damn I really missed out..

idk but yeah I think it’d be interesting to see 🤍🤍

SALT IN THE SUGAR BOWL — RAFE CAMERON

only weeks after your break-up, you show up to pogue!rafe's automobile shop seeking his help — and old wounds, and old feelings are reignited.

salt in the sugar bowl miniseries | part one - you are currently on part two - part three |

cherie's note — thank u for the request, anon<3! already had the foundation for the follow-up, decided to throw in mentions of jj, hopefully you like it! thank you guys for all the support! will be writing a third part most likely. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

rafe hated the pogues.

it wasn't about where they came from, or how they lived like life had already beaten them down. it was the way they wore it — like being at the bottom was something to be proud of. like struggling to make ends meet, living pay cheque to pay cheque, made them better than the ones who had never known hunger, or desperation, or what it felt like to have nothing left to lose.

they threw around words like family and loyalty, like it meant anything. like it would keep them from turning on each other the second shit hit the fan. it was a lie — a comforting facade they told themselves to make up for everything they'd never have.

but most of all, he hated that he was one of them now. fighting to survive, and wondering when he'd finally have his cut of fresh life.

it didn't matter that he hadn't changed — not really. he was still rafe cameron, still the same guy who had once walked through figure eight with his head high, his last name like a golden ticket. but none of that mattered anymore. not on this side of the island.

not since ward cut him off — when his entire world came crashing down, leaving him stranded on the cut with the same people he used to look down on. he'd lost the money, the power, the respect that came with being a cameron. and no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, it ate him alive. every single day.

and the worst part? the pogues saw it too.

they didn't say anything, but he could feel it in the way they looked at him — like he was some washed-up prince, stripped of his crown, reduced to nothing more than a lost cause. it made him sick.

nothing feels like rock bottom like being looked down on by the ones at the lowest — the same ones you had once looked over, never casted more than a bat of the eye towards. that, truly felt like rock fucking bottom for rafe, and there was no coming back from that.

he wasn't one of them, he never would be.

and yet, there he was, sitting on the back deck of a bar that reeked of beer and sea salt, nursing a drink he could barely afford, surrounded by the very people he despised.

rafe let his head fall back against the chair, exhaling slowly as he tried to drown out the noise around him — the sound of waves crashing in the distance, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of drunken laughter. it all felt suffocating, especially when he had crashed from so high at the top.

then, he heard her laugh.

at first, he thought he imagined it. he wouldn't put it past himself — if his mind was idle, chances are, she suffocated every crevice of his brain. but when he turned his head, there she was.

and she wasn't alone.

the glass in his hand stilled as his fingers tightened around it. across the dock, against the illuminated ocean water, she stood with jj maybank, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

rafe felt his stomach twist.

it had only been a few weeks. a few fucking weeks. and yet, there she was — smiling, laughing, leaning into him like rafe had never even mattered.

like he hadn't shattered her heart, torturing his own in the process.

like he wasn't sitting there, watching it all unfold, feeling like the ground had been ripped out from beneath him.

the worst part wasn't that she was with someone else. it wasn't even that she was with jj — a pogue, and the last person rafe would ever want to see touching her.

no, the worst part was that she looked happy.

and rafe hated that almost as much as he hated the pogues.

────── ֺ ᪄ 𖹭 ၃ ִ ──────

you hadn't set foot in this shop since everything fell apart. the last time you had been here, your face was stained in salty tear streaks. the last time you were here, things were different — easier. back when rafe still looked at you like you were his, back when his touch was something warm instead of a ghost you tried not to miss. but that was months ago. now, the only thing left between you was silence.

and maybe, that was for the best.

you could have taken your car anywhere else — you probably should have. there were automobile shops scattered around the island, but deep down, you knew no one worked like rafe. he had a way with car, the same way he used to have a way with you — knowing exactly what to say, what to do, to keep things running smooth. until, suddenly, he didn't.

a part of you wondered if he ever felt the same hollow ache you did. if the silence was as loud for him as it was for you.

the thought lingers as you pull open the heavy shop door, the bell above it jingling a little too loud in the still air. the scent of oil, grease and gasoline wraps around you like something familiar, something that used to feel like home.

and then, you see him.

he's under the hood of a car, forearms tense as he works, grease smudged across his fingers and forearms. the sight of him knocks the breath from your lungs — not because he looks different, but because he looks the same. same sharp jaw, same furrowed brow, shame effortless pull he's always had on you.

you hear it before you see it — the slight hitch in his breath, the way his movements falter for half a second before he straightens. his eyes find yours through the dim light of the garage, and something flickers there. surprise. hesitation. maybe even something softer, something you shouldn't hope for.

you swallowed hard. yeah, this was a mistake.

but it was too late to turn back now.

"hi," you greet softly, timid. you throw your arms behind your back, a nervous gesture as you walk a few feet towards him. despite all the noise in the shop; the noise of the ceiling fans, the faint rock music on the stereo, everything zeroes in on him, like the world stopped for this moment alone. "sorry to bother... do you mind looking at my car quickly? my boyfriend's not answering his phone... so he's out of the picture when it comes to help."

of course, jj. as much as you had grown to like jj, his presence was fleeting — always in and out, never staying long enough to settle. everyone knew this wasn’t the right time for him to commit to a relationship, and deep down, you did too. but still, you had jumped in headfirst, ignoring the warning signs. you needed a distraction, and so did he.

his body automatically tensed at the sound of your voice. it was as soft as he remembered, though you sounded almost shy now. he could see the way you shifted on your feet, fidgeting with your fingers behind your back, the way you couldn't hold his gaze for long, and he hated it. h hated how nervous you seemed now that you were near him again. he hated that he was the cause of the change.

he cleared his throat, nodding as he took another step forward.

"sure... sure. let me have a look at it."

he knew he was a goner. the worst thing he could have done in this moment, was accept, but he couldn't help it. not after he'd realized how sad life gotten since he forced you out of his.

rafe walks over to the hood, lifting it open as the smoke puffs out once more. he coughs lightly, waving the grey tendrils away as he looks down at the engine before him. he sighs, his brows furrowing at the sight as his eyes rake over the mess of steam and metal.

"you're engine's overheating." he mutters, his eyes flickering towards you for a brief moment.

he notices the way you keep your eyes glued to the engine, finding any excuse not to meet his eyes.

it made sense — outerbanks had been under heatwave warning for the last week, reaching its peak a few days before the issue had first presented itself.

he nodded, his gaze returning to the engine. "when did it start overheating?" he asks, his voice a little gruff as he wipes his sleeve across his face, wiping the sweat away.

you hated to admit it, feeling the lecture come on before you had even spoken a word, "few days ago, figured it would go away on its own."

he hummed in response, his eyes rolling at your answer. of course, you would've fixed on it's own. he huffed, a chuckle escaping him as he shook his head.

"yeah, that's not how it works." he replies, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest at the sound of your voice once more. he tried to sound disinterested and nonchalant, but there was a part of him that was happy to hear you speak again.

after a moment of his examination, he finally spoke again. "seems like your radiator is leaking." he explained, leaning down towards the engine. "probably has a busted hose or something."

you groan — something of the sort sounded expensive. it wasn't that you couldn't afford it, all you had to do was ask your father for some cash, and he'd gladly give it your way.

he let out another sigh, glancing over at you. "it won't take me too long to fix..."

"oh," you reply, doe eye accentuated by your lashes, "it's alright. i can get somebody else to fix it, i just needed to know what the issue was, really. thank you, rafe."

his jaw clenched at your words, feeling the ache in his chest growing stronger. he didn't want you to go to another mechanic, or relying on your 'boyfriend' for such a simple fix. in actuality, the thought of you leaving the shop, and potentially never coming back hurt the most.

he was silent for a moment, his mind racing for something to say to keep you here for a little longer, until the words fell out of his mouth.

"why don't you just let me fix it?"

"i mean..." you start, looking back at the shop over your shoulder before meeting his blue eyes once more. "i don't want to bother... i know you're super busy in there so..."

he scoffed at that, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you. busy? yeah, he was swamped with jobs, but he could never be too busy for you.

"it's fine," he replied gruffly, trying not to sound eager, "it won't take me long anyways. just let me fix it."

with a shaky sigh, you nod and accept the offer. you knew rafe would take good care of your vehicle — but the idea of being stuck here with him alone until he was finished made you nervous.

he nodded in response, trying to hide the excitement that surged within him. he wasn't going t let you just walk out his door, not today. not yet.

"perfect," he said briskly, running his hand over his buzzcut. "come back inside. it'll only be a few minutes."

you follow behind rafe, like he had expected. it was cute, he thought, one of the first things he had noticed about you. you followed him around like a damn puppy, so eager to spend time with him that it didn't matter what you both were doing, as long as you were by his side.

he gestures for you to follow him to your vehicle, now parked inside as the large garage doors closing behind you both. he could feel your presence behind him, and could practically sense the tension radiating off of you.

for a moment, there was a silence as he began to work, his hands fiddling with different tools and parts. but then, he spoke, his gruff voice cutting through the air.

"so..." he began, his eyes never leaving the engine in front of him. "how've you been."

you weren't expecting conversation — not normal conversation, anyways. like nothing had happened between you two, like he hadn't been the one to break your heart only a couple of weeks ago.

"i've been... good." you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets. it wasn't the truth, yet wasn't entirely a lie either. things had been going good for you, but when the house fell silent, and the night took over, all the happiness seemed to dissipate once again.

he hummed in response, his eyes flickering to you for a moment. even he could hear how forced your answer sounded.

"saw you the other day," he said, closing the hood of your vehicle with a thud.

you frown, "yeah? where?"

"by the docks. with him."

your silence speaks volumes to the man. the girl who once spent hours perched on his workbench, yapping his ear off, now sat quiet. the shy demeanor felt odd. you should've known rafe wouldn’t bite his tongue — he never did. he was blunt, everyone knew that. and the moment you showed up here, you should’ve been ready for him to bring it up.

you blinked, trying to keep your expression neutral, "him?"

rafe let out a dry chuckle, wiping the grease onto an already dirty rag. he threw the cloth onto the hood of your car, "come on, don't do that. you know who i'm talking about."

looking down at the floor, you're suddenly aware of just how much coming here was a mistake.

"you don't get to do this, rafe."

"do what?" his tone is deceptively calm.

"this," you motion between you two, "you broke up with me, remember?"

his jaw tightened, "i know."

"so why does it matter?"

rafe was silent for a beat his tongue poking the soft skin of his cheek, like he was trying to find the right words. finally, he exhaled, shaking his head.

"it doesn't," he muttered. "forget i said anything."

and then he turns his back towards you, just like he had all those weeks ago. returning to his workbench, putting down the wrench within his palms down harshly. the frustration is clear, roaming through the air you share.

and he doesn't turn around until he hears you open your vehicle door, ready to find your leave without even saying goodbye, not that he was going to bother anyways.

"you still wear it," he said, voice quieter now.

your breath caught in your throat.

it took you a second to realize what he meant — until you followed his gaze, landing right where his eyes had lingered.

the bracelet.

worn. faded from the sun. still tied around your wrist.

the one he gave you. the one you never took off.

rafe's gaze flicked back to yours, something unreadable in his expression. something dangerous.

something hopeful. for the first time in weeks.

but before you could say anything, before you could defend yourself or rip the damn thing off your wrist, he shook his head, scoffing under his breath.

"see you around, then."

and with that, he slid back under the vehicle, ready to busy his mind with more work — a desperate attempt at a distraction after all of this.

leaving you standing there — heart pounding, mind spinning — knowing damn well this wasn't over.

[lewkwoodnco]

You look like shit - Lockwood x Reader

One time you told lockwood he looked like shit and four times he told you you looked like shit

“You look like shit.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re in a hospital bed but I’m the one who looks like shit.”

“Exactly, you look spectacularly terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I tried, but my sorry excuse of a boss got his ass kicked by some Type Two, so here I am.”

“Doesn’t your sorry excuse of a boss write your cheques?”

“Have I mentioned how fond I am of my sorry excuse of a boss?”

a/n: just a little drabble i typed up having been inspired by this post :)

tropes/warnings: mostly fluffy, some mentions of grief, slight description of injury, smidge of flirty-ish banter 🙈🙈

wc: 1.5k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

“You look like shit.”

Lockwood froze with his mug halfway to his mouth. He gaped at her briefly before setting the mug down once the shock passed. She was Lockwood & Co.'s newest employee and it was only recently that the ice had been sufficiently broken for their interactions to evolve into something more than a passing smile or greeting. This, however, was more than he had expected. He was possessed by a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh.

"It's like, 10 in the morning, and you already look exhausted. Do you ever sleep?"

He struggled with his words for a moment. "...yes. Sometimes."

"Not enough, clearly."

He did look especially worse for wear that morning. Only just recovering from a mild flu, his insomnia was at an all-time high and the lack of sun over the past week had his skin looking nearly transparent. He was a frail, washed-out thing flitting restlessly between rooms, bemoaning all the cases he was missing out on while cooped up here.

He smiled for what felt like the first time in days. She coughed, embarrassed, feeling like she had grossly overstepped.

"I mean...you don't look that horrible."

Fortunately, Lucy chose that exact moment to walk in and sufficiently distract Lockwood with the details of their newest case and she took the opportunity to duck out of the room. What the hell had she been thinking?

"H- oh, you look like shit."

She emerged from behind the counter through a cloud of steam, her hair resting on her shoulders like a large, frizzy, brittle rat. While he and George had spent the morning at the Archives, she had spent it at Portland Row preparing Fesenjān for their lunch as part of some stupid bet she had made with George.

"Oh, good, you're back. You took your time."

"George is still there so Lucy's going in to hel-"

She cut him off by shoving a spoon of hot stew into his mouth.

"Taste."

Lockwood spluttered around the spoon, mouth working furiously to cool the scalding food while she watched him intently.

"Well?"

"It's...it's good."

"As good as George's?"

He grimaced. "I don't think I should be taking sides in this." He didn't even want to think about George finding out.

"This isn't taking sides. But also, if anyone asks, you weren't here. So...?" She fixed a desperate look on him. Lockwood sighed.

"It could use a little more salt."

"Angel." She turned around, pulling out the salt while he watched her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. The crazy hair suited her in some odd way.

“You look like shit.”

He had meant for it to come out as teasing but at the sight of her tearstained face, it sounded terribly mean. He had found her sitting on the front steps late one evening when he was about to turn in, only a thin hoodie insulating her from the harsh cold. Her head whipped around at the sound of his voice, a hand carelessly dragged across her face. He took a seat next to her, dropping his voice.

"Everything alright?"

She swallowed, eyes trained on their shoes. Her voice was hoarse with disuse.

"One of my friends moved away a couple of years back. She's been in an accident."

"How bad of an accident?"

There was a tightness in her chest that made it difficult to go on. "The worst."

In a rare moment of weakness, she crumbled, sagging against Lockwood like she had no spine left to hold herself upright. He wrapped a warm, comforting arm around her, and the simple gesture was enough to break her down. She cried into his shirt, cried for the friend she would never see again, cried for the part of her childhood that had chipped off and floated away into some abyss. Cried while he held her.

"I can't -" she hiccuped, unable to hold back a poorly concealed sob. "I can't even remember the last thing I said to her." It felt like an awful thing to admit, something sinful and evil, something that made it impossible for her to shake the tremble from her hands. His hold on her tightened a fraction, like he was holding her shattered pieces together, and she clung to his shirt with all the despair of a shipwrecked passenger.

Maybe it was selfish, but she didn't want him to leave. And so he stayed.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

They had just returned from a job at some old, abandoned building set to be torn down in a few months. George and Lucy were handling some other case at the other end of the city, so the sounds of them shucking off their coats and gear echoed through the empty house. Between the two of them, she was always more prone to going ham on their cases. Today, it was in the form of her barrelling full tilt through a series of cobwebs to serve as a distraction. The case had ended with Lockwood hurriedly bagging the Source and her pink-faced and speckled with the grey strings.

Back at Portland Row's kitchen, there was still a lingering tinge of warmth to her cheeks. Lockwood paused by the cupboard where she was pulling out some mugs and plates, idly picking off the remaining strands still loosely clinging to her hair and shoulders. As his movements slowed, fading into something more gentle and meticulous, she glanced at him. He looked back. The cobwebs now littered the little space between them, but still he did not move away. The back of her neck prickled under his wretchedly attentive gaze. She did not know how to look away.

"Tea?" she croaked out, throat embarrassingly taut with choked-back emotion.

Whatever spell that had settled over them broke. Lockwood reeled back, almost noisily busying himself with fishing out the biscuit tin, forcing something nonchalant into his voice.

"Sure."

They spent the rest of their night operating with an invisible bubble between them, neither of them daring to get too close to the other lest a brush of the hand shattered the pallid illusion they were play-acting in. The house was far too quiet that night, filled with the unbearably soothing sounds of their cutlery, the rain and their breathing. Lockwood fiddled with his mug. She scratched at a particularly obscene message etched into the thinking cloth. He dragged a shoe along the scuffed kitchen floors. She drummed her fingers restlessly, watching the seconds tick by excruciatingly slow on the clock.

Where the hell were George and Lucy?

“You look like shit.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re in a hospital bed but I’m the one who looks like shit.”

She was in a gleaming, sterile hospital room, painfully twisted into some uncomfortable plastic chair after a night of fitful sleep and checking to make sure Lockwood was still alive. Lockwood had gone out for a solo case and she had been waiting up, expecting him to return any minute when the hospital called. Luckily, it was nothing fatal, but enough to keep him out of commission for a while. Enough to make her worry.

“Exactly, you look spectacularly terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I tried, but my sorry excuse of a boss got his ass kicked by some Type Two, so here I am.”

“Doesn’t your sorry excuse of a boss write your cheques?”

“Have I mentioned how fond I am of my sorry excuse of a boss?”

He quirked a smile at that, then immediately winced. She lightly tilted his bruised face just as he raised a tentative hand to the stitches on his lip, their fingers brushing against each other for a fraction of a second. He looked at her questioningly, unable to see how it was healing himself, and she thought it was extremely unfair to have eyes as disarming as his. She shoved down the stab of sympathy at the unexpectedly vulnerable sight. Hospital gowns really did a number on how strong, or lack thereof, a patient seemed.

“Poor baby. Do you need someone to kiss it better?”

“You could kiss me better.”

“You…are clearly still concussed. Where on earth is your nurse?”

She stood and busied herself by sticking her head out the door and looking for his nurse, which was most definitely not an attempt to hide the flush creeping up her neck. After a few minutes of futile searching, she returned, alarmed at how wan Lockwood was starting to seem.

“I don’t remember getting a concussion,” he murmured, closing his aching eyes.

“Of course you wouldn’t. That’s how concussions work. Idiot.” She tried to keep her tone light, but he cracked an eye open as if he had heard something in her voice. He slipped her fingers through hers casually and she felt the tension in his stiff shoulders ease.

"You should sleep," she tried gently. His thumb slowly traced hers drowsily. Still, he forced his eyes open with considerable effort. Looked at her like she was all he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

"In a minute."

It was the first of the lifetime of minutes ahead of them.

TAGLIST: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cielooci @midnight--raine @mohinithoughts @neewtmas @snoopyluver20 @ahead-fullofdreams @elenianag080 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @mitskiswift99

[pedrosman]

Would love to see oberyn, dieter, Frankie and Marcus stories! Especially if they are tops against a bottom reader

AN- YES YES YES YES! here is a pretty long (sorry i got carried away) one shot fic

Do you want to have sex with me?

Pairing: Dieter Bravo (the bubble) x Male!Reader

Word count: 4000 ish

Summary: you work on set as an assistant cinematographer, you have been noticing Dieter looking at you weird all day.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI!, Dieter Bravo, fic takes place during the bubble, you are working on set, Age Gap! P in A! Unprotected, Drug use! Top! Dieter Bravo, bot! Reader, small use of y/n

Feel free to give me feedback and tips, this is my first full fic. Also very open to submission, muh luh muh only lol

I am so fucking done with this film. The directors on Cliff Beasts Six, the newest instalment of the oh-so-amazing “Cliff Beasts” franchise, aren’t interested in anything but making a cheque, and it shows. Neither the actors nor anyone on set are engaged, and there is a palpable sense of boredom between everyone.

I, y/n, aged 19, applied for this position as an assistant cinematographer to get out of my shitty apartment and finally attempt to gain some experience in the film industry. How insightful it has been. Days of sitting by as the stuck-up actors on Cliff Beasts 6 (seriously 6??) argue over a script that has probably (definitely) been made through Chatgpt. It is amusing to watch though, watching how they bicker over the delivery of a single line, whilst everyone else just stands and watches idly. How invigorating. What I wouldn't give to just tell them all to shut the fuck-

“Hey! Runner! What the fuck are you doing standing on set? We're about to shoot!”

Oh shit, I’ve fucking done it. Now these fucking A-listers are staring at me like I’ve shot their half-dead Bichon Frise, but I still haven’t moved an inch.

“What the fuck is your problem? MOVE!” the voice calls out again.

“Uh, shit... My bad” I mumble as I stumble over the fake ground onto the warehouse floor. “That was great y/n, real smooth” I think as I curse under my breath towards the hostility of the director who has been doing nothing but sit on his ass and attempt to blow 0’s with his oversized vape. But seriously, I was barely on set, not even within proximity to the actors, or where the camera was supposed to run through. I slink towards the wall, enshadowed by the stacks upon stacks of props of dinosaur eggs, embarrassment manifesting onto my face in a burning shade of scarlet. With my head mow staring so intently at the scratch marks of the floor, avoiding the gaze of every single person on Earth, I run a shaky hand through my outgrown and bleach-damaged hair. I want to disappear right now.

I stay in the shadows silently, still not daring to look up at the scene the actors now play through. Instead, I listen to their half-assed attempts of acting fearful of the blue blob that will be the mother dinosaur to all the eggs I hide behind. Seriously, this film is genuinely a game of connect-the-dots on stereotypical children's interests. It’s humourable, how absurd they sound, screaming about some random nonsensical bullshit with a monotone seriousness. Looking up, I watch the flurry of movement on set, studying how the camera pans from the actors to the blue wall behind them. It’s better to focus on the elements I came here to study, rather than the shitshow that is the film. Whilst I stare, I catch a glimpse of a man in a red jacket looking my way, hidden behind the rocks and eggs. Turning my attention towards him, I notice his clenched jaw and deadpan focus on me.

“Shit, my fuckup on set must have really pissed him off” I mutter under my breath whilst my eyes stay locked onto him. We stay like that for a few seconds, mixed emotions manifesting on my face, whilst he just stares. Lifting my eyes slightly, we make eye contact, prompting a wave of realisation to wash over his face, and he promptly turns his direction back to discussions on the next scene. It makes sense, his change in demeanour. If I was a fucking celebrity, the last thing I would want is a scandal of workplace abuse blown out of proportion.

___________

They’ve wrapped up today’s shooting. Thank God. The rest of the shoot was relatively uneventful, I was only asked to help set up a few camera scenes whilst the actors took their lunch break. However, that actor in the red jacket kept on looking my way, but only for a fleeting few seconds each time. It was bizarre really, how many times I swear I caught him staring: between scenes, during script conversations (arguments really), whenever the actors left the set. It was comical how I would see his head turn away from my direction in parallel to whenever I looked in his. What the fuck is his problem? Anyways. Hiding my glee, I turn away from the remaining crew on set, embarking back to the hotel where the cast and crew were staying. I put earphones in as I walk, putting “Never Let Me Down Again” by Depache Mode on blast and loop (tlou reference), watching the sky warp and twist with clouds straight out of Junji Ito. As I walk, I picture how much I would change about the godforsaken cash grab of a film: the story, the camera angles, the compositions, the-

“Hey.” A breathless voice behind me whispers, barely audible over the drums blaring into my ears. Turning, I immediately freeze, in the realisation that this was the red jacket man, the one with the fucking lead paint stare. What the fuck does he want?

“Oh! Hey. Look man, if you’re pissed that I was standing on set, I genuinely didn’t realise. I didn’t mean to look like a dick. I’m really sor-”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” He asks.

“What?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” He repeats, louder.

“I heard you the first time,” I reply, stunned, eyes blinking at him widely.

“Oh, well do you?” He questions, voice full of intent.

“Uhh”, what the fuck do I say? Is he fucking high?

“Yes? That's amazing, now?” he follows, oblivious to my stunned face. He grips my hand tight, and begins to pull me towards the hotel. More for his welfare, I allow him to. If he is high, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to have to deal with an overdose, pushing back the shooting back date further.

“What’s your name? Mine’s Dieter Bravo, but you probably already know that. You know, Oscar Winner?” He asks excitedly, almost desperately.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” He repeats, obviously unfocused on me, but rather the journey ahead, which he slinks across, acting like a fucking ninja.

“Oh, y/n”. I reply flatly, still stunned by his blunt and forward character.

“So fucking beautiful, you know that? You’re so fucking beautiful. Couldn’t keep my eyes off you. Please let me fuck you?” He grumbles, eyes now locked onto mine, searching, savouring me.

“Sorry, but are you high?” I question, anxiety creeping up from my stomach. I seriously don’t want this to come off badly. God knows what he can do to my career, with the amount of money and “power”  that he holds.

“Oh! Just some coke, do you want some? I’ve got a fat stash back in my room, you’ll just have to ignore the paintings.

What do I say? First, he wants to fuck me, and now he’s offering me cocaine?

“Ummm, I’m okay actually,” I reply, eyes glued to his firm grip on my hand, leading me through the hotel like a stealth mission, stopping behind couches and desks, pulling me under them to hide from various staff and other residents. I swear we crept past Karen Gillan at one point. We continue this charade of playing ninjas until we stop at a door, undoubtedly his room’s.

“Wait, do you seriously want to fuck me?” I start, a chuckle bubbling underneath my voice. “I mean, you’re a fucking A-lister and you’re high off coke right now”. This entire situation is so absurd I cannot.

“You’re an angel y/n, and I’m so pent up right now, I feel like an animal.” He replies, voice full of truth. And he isn’t wrong at all. On our journey, I had noticed him grabbing his crotch a few more times than necessary, and adjusting it quite a lot too. Truthfully, it did make me question whether or not I would submit to his desperate plea for pleasure.

“Fuck.”

I genuinely think he wants to fuck me.

“Fine. Okay. I think we can do this.” There. I said it. Listening to my own voice consent to having sex with Dieter fucking Bravo generates a wave of excited shivers across my body, mirroring the relieved smile that sprawls across his face.

“Let’s have some fun.”

___________

Inside his room, it is clear to see that the restrictions in the bubble have taken a toll on him. Scattered across the walls there are various paintings depicting almost hellish figures, staring down at us. As I study them, Dieter dims the lights and begins to undress, changing into nothing but a dressing gown. Anticipation creeps across my body, giving my head a slight buzz. Turning to me, Dieter’s chest becomes visible: scattered lightly with hair, but enough to give them a fuzzy look and feel. His thighs also peek out nicely, thick and inviting. Jesus Christ, why did the costume department dress him so ugly? This scruffy, out-of-bed look is much more attractive, and the colour of his gown suits him much better than the neon of his Character’s jacket. As I force my eyes to peel away from his body, I notice him staring directly at me. In exactly the same way as earlier today. Was that his flirting? Or dropping hints? I thought he wanted to kill me, but I guess he just wanted me. Instead of hatred, his eyes are filled with lust and animalistic intent, he wants me like a fucking drug.

“So-” I begin, stopped by his hand suddenly covering my mouth. His proximity engulfs me with his scent: musky, woody, sweaty and also quite sweet, almost floral. His dick has definitely been leaking for a while. Stepping even closer, our chests almost touching, he stares down at me, eyes burning into my own. Slowly, he removes his hand off my mouth and grabs my chin, pulling my face up to look at him. We stay in silence like this for a few seconds, both reading each other's faces, enveloped in the erotic tension.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n.”

And with that, the tension breaks, cascading us in a downpour of lust and need. Our bodies clash, pushing and pulling each other closer, our hips grinding as we kiss. His lips are chapped, but still soft, scratching over mine satisfyingly. His tongue reaches into my mouth while mine battles its way into his, both attempting to overcome the other. They connect and move over each other slickly, electrifying my body and increasing my newfound desire for Dieter. As we make out, our faces push closer and closer, his beard scruff dancing over my skin, their path leaving an electrifying buzz. I smile as we kiss, intoxicated by his desire, his desperation for sex. As we kiss, I can feel his growing boner press against my hip, shrouded by his gown that sports quite a large tent. He groans against me, a guttural sound that reverberates in my mouth. I push into that feeling further, watching him become completely engrossed in our French kiss. His hands roam freely, moving away from my face and down my arms, and stopping with our fingers interlocked. Suddenly, he pushes me down onto his bed, dipping his head down to not break our kiss. Seemingly unwillingly, our mouths depart and he stands above me.

His gown is barely holding in his package, The ribbon basically untied, but keeping his manhood hidden. It is very evident that he intends to give a show, which I think is quite comical. Of course, the fucking celebrity actor would want to take control of this scene and make me savour his big reveal.

Teasingly, he starts by grabbing my hand and trailing it down his chest. I take the liberty of pinching his nipples lightly, evoking an involuntary moan. Then, he pulls my hand down lower, whilst I run my fingers through his chest hair. In the dim lighting, the glow golden, with hints of silver, no doubt a reminder of our age gap. But he doesn’t care, and neither do I. He stops my hand at the knot of the ribbon and lets go.

“If he gets to enjoy this, then so do I” I think, taking my time to admire his treasure trail and the bottom of his stomach. I playfully teeter around the ribbon knot, teasing him as he did me.

“Please.” He speaks with a whisper, eyes full of longing and need. But I can feel him hold himself back, avoiding rushing our moment.

Complying, I swiftly undo the knot, and allow the robe to fall to the sides of his legs.

Fuck.

His cock fell forward towards me with undeniable intent. It definitely reached past seven inches, and under the soft glow, the glossiness of precum over its head was undeniable. A soft gasp emerged from the depths of my throat as I stared, entranced. Dieter’s cock was going to be the death of me.

“Suck it.”

Looking up at Dieter, I could see him shift away from his desperate self towards a more dominant one. He and I both knew that this was going to be intense. His eyes held a fury in them, driven by his need to fuck. It definitely had been a while since he had got any action. I guess that many others he must have asked didn't hear him out at all. The veins in his dick were so defined, throbbing with an urgency. With each throb, a glob of precum spilt out, coating his manhood in a thick, slick lube. Fuck.

Staring up into his eyes, I leant forward and licked his tip. As I did, I watched his entire body shake, an involuntary reaction to how touch-starved he was. A moan emerged from the back of his throat, guttural and low, making my skin form into goosebumps.

I began to lower myself further down his cock, slowly pressing my face into his hair. I could smell the sweat from the day’s work that coated his cock and balls, creating a sweet but heavy aroma that caused me to moan onto his dick. I inhaled sharply, catching every whiff that I could, intoxicated. Still staring into his deep, pleading eyes, I stopped sucking and moved to his balls, placing one into my mouth and sucking teasingly, inhaling his scent. His dick lay over my face with a distinct weight, thrusting into my hair, coating my skin with his precum. Still keeping eye contact, I watched his mouth open and close, gawking and stunned by the pleasure he was experiencing. I swapped between his balls and cock regularly, making sure to never break eye contact, watching Dieter fall further and further into a lust-driven state. Whilst I sucked, I could feel his thighs shaking with ecstasy. Keeping him in my mouth, I wrapped and slithered my tongue up the base and around his head. I revelled in the salty taste of his precum, savouring every drop. I slipped my tongue under his hood, running at the base of his head. This prompted another series of involuntary moans on his behalf, stimulating my own cock to start throbbing through my clothes, desperate for touch.

Without warning, I felt his hands on the back of my head, gripping tightly into my hair. Immediately, he started thrusting into me, fucking my mouth. His thrusts were in quick succession, fueled by excessive desire. He filled my mouth entirely, his taste coating every surface, saliva dripping from the sides of my face and down the base of his cock. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and musk and the sound of his balls slapping onto my jaw whilst he let out desperate pants and groans. His movements were frantic and obsessive, gripping into my hair with a desperate need. His hands were clammy, his fingers locking and slipping around my curls whilst he fucked my face. Tears streamed down my face whilst Dieter abused my mouth, ignoring my gags and moans. My cock was so fucking hard, pressing into my trousers with a desperate need to be touched. Jesus fucking Christ.

His thrusting became more rapid, and his moans increased in volume and speed. He was growling with such animalistic intent, in total heat whilst wrecking my face.

“Ah- fuck- I’m gonna cum baby-”

His seed filled my mouth with a final thrust, letting out a hoarse and guttural succession of moans. We stayed there for a few seconds, his breathing heavy, and his body shuddering above me. His cum was so sweet and thick, forcing me to gulp down loads of mess. Pulling out from my mouth, the rest of his seed leaving him. In a trance, I felt him pushing it over my cheeks and lips, coating me with his sperm. Looking up at him whilst it dripped down to my chin, his eyes full of relief and pleasure.

“Holy Shit.” I didn’t know what to say.

“Ready for more, angel?”

Dieter flopped onto the bed next to me, his breath heavy.

Immediately, he turned towards me, planting his chapped lips onto mine. We kissed passionately, fueled by a connection previously inconceivable. His hands explored my body, tugging up my T-shirt and kneading his hands into my skin. He was rough, dominant and needing. He gripped the bare skin of my back tightly, pulling me closer to him, our bodies pressing and interlocking tightly. Reaching down the back of my trousers, I felt his finger pressing on my hole. He circled his finger around my entrance, pressing slightly, causing a moan to emerge from my lips. Removing his hands from my ass and his mouth from mine, he placed his fingers into my mouth.

“Spit.”

Instinctively, I did. Immediately, He went back to my asshole, inserting his index slowly, causing my back to arch into him. He pressed in and out, loosening my hole slowly. I couldn’t stop moaning into him, pushing myself down further against him. As he finger fucked my hole, he started thrusting bare body against me, grinding his cock across my thigh, dripping precum onto my trousers. Slowly, almost timidly, he reached down my body to my bulge, applying pressure heavily. Holy Shit. I was in ecstasy, in pure bliss and overstimulation. He unbuttoned my trousers desperately, fueled by desire, exposing my boxers to the room. The front was wet with precum, clinging to my member.

Suddenly, he straddled on top of me, pulling down my trousers and boxers to my ankle. Immediately, my cock sprung up to my belly button, leaving a small pool of precum. Removing all my clothes fully, leaving my body exposed to the dim room, he lifted my legs, resting them on his shoulders.

He quickly lubed my hole, pushing his finger deep into me as he did so. It shocked me, engrossing me in a sudden wave of pleasure. Then, positioning his dick, I felt his member push into me slowly, meeting resistance from my hole, straining against his girth.

“Fuck, so goddamn tight”, he grunted, pressing slightly harder. With a satisfying pop, his tip entered, arching my neck back. I looked deep into his eyes, unable to generate sound from the pure ecstasy. Gently, he inserted his deep length inside me, making low cooing noises, soothing my discomfort. Eventually, he was fully inside me, my hole wrapped around his cock. We stayed unmoving, Dieter engrossed with how my ass clung to his dick desperately. Teasingly, I moved my ass slightly, pulling his cock deeper into me, now fully balls deep.

“Oh”, a soft moan escaped his mouth, wrapping around me in the silent room. Soon followed the clear sound of his dick pulling out and pushing back, his balls slapping my cheeks.  Dieter's hands wrapped around mine, pushing me back completely against the bed, and leaned closer, going deeper and stretching my legs higher. Quickly, his thrusts increased, engulfing us in moans and soft-spoken curses towards each other. Wave after wave of pleasure buzzed my head and made my tip throb. His lips met mine and we started kissing, fueled by desire and need. He fucked me mercilessly, stretching my hole wide to fit his girth and length nicely. His breath was heavy into my mouth, followed by growls that made my cock twitch. His beard scratched my face nicely, sending small bursts of pain, heightening my sensitive state.

I could feel my orgasm rising, my cock head getting hot and my cock throbbing. I couldn’t even let out any noise to warn Dieter, ��assuddenly I was engulfed in a blinding wave of hot bliss from his onslaught on my prostate. Spurts of cum erupted from my cock, painting out stomachs, tying us together. Yet Dieter didn’t stop, fueled by my pleasure. Instead, his thrusts increased, overstimulating my entire body. I felt his hands move from mine to the back of my head, pushing me to look directly into his eyes. His thrusts were relentless, going deeper each time, stretching my insides into his personal fucktoy. My moans were neverending, creating a chorus with Dieter’s deep growls. Still looking into my eyes, he leant his body onto mine, and began to absolutely abuse my hole. He fucked me like a dog, his eyes seemingly glowing with pure energy and pleasure. Picking up even more speed, I felt his manhood throb, close to coming again.

“Where do you want it,” is all he could ask between heavy breaths, holding back his orgasm with undefined strength.

“In me.”

I felt Dieter erupt in me, his load filling every crevice. It leaked out my asshole, down the base of his member. Pulling out completely, he admired his work, then pushed himself back in, impregnanting me again. We moaned into each other, kissing messily, completely in the moment. He stayed inside me for a few minutes, getting soft as we just laid there, comprehending what we had just done. Pulling out, my hole was a gaping mess, leaking with his seed.

Lying next to me, cum dripping off his cock, his face became plastered with a smile. He scooped up a glob of his cum, mixed it with the pool of mine on my stomach, and brought it to my lips.

“Swallow.” I did.

“Good.”

The world was so silent. Neither of us spoke, our breaths slowing gradually. Turning to him, looking into his eyes, I could tell he was eternally grateful, and I was happy too with being his bitch, even though it was so wrong. But it was so right.

“Can we make this a weekly thing? I asked, desperate for him again.

“Weekly? Nah. Daily?” He replied. He was addicted. To me, to my body, to how our bodies moved in unison, driven by lust and depravation.

A small chuckle emerged from his chest. A hearty laugh, melting my belly into a hot mess. A comfortable laugh, like a warm hug after a shitty day.

I wouldn’t mind getting addicted to Dieter.