#i forgot to hide it when Boyfriend was over but he fuckin loved it and when i asked if he’d be embarrassed if i wore it he was like no wtf

[solar-halos]

you ever love something so much you forget to breathe bc like. me w can’t catch me now im lightheaded as i type this

[ggirlthatgotaway]

Not Cold Any Longer (modern au)

summary: Aemond is that guy you’ve known since you were kids, the one you’ve never talked to and that had gotten fucking weird. But you end up becoming friends, and you find out that not only he’s right about your shit boyfriend, but also that he’s a fucking ride that can keep you boiling hot all the time.

trigger warning: explicit language, mention of useless men, mention of Franz Ferdinand, sexual content, name calling, choking, slapping, loving, maybe other things.

word count: 6.2k

note: Aemond is not hotd-Aemond but the FontainesDC-hottie-freak (fuck me<3) . also english is my 3rd language and i haven’t written a complete smut since i was 13 (read, don’t judge) so yeah do tell me what you think

-💎

The cold air of the night was hitting your face, and it stung your skin despite your best efforts to hide it in the collar of your jacket. You didn’t want to go back home, you wanted to keep walking, to go to him.

From your house to his, there was a six-minute drive, which meant a forty-five-minute walk for someone who walked quickly. Perfect, you thought to yourself as you glanced around the dark street, not a sound to be heard.

Your mind raced back to earlier that day, to the reason why you were walking to his house. His words replayed in your mind over and over: “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?” he had shouted, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, but a hint of sadness was lacing them. He had tried to hide it, as always, like the rest of his emotions.

He had already told you that you were able to understand him despite his precautions- “I don’t fancy how ye keep readin’ me mind, love.” he had said with a soft grin and happy eyes. But that was a completely different circumstance; it was something light, about why he had started inviting you to gigs instead of bringing his friend, Sal.

Anyway, him telling you that you didn’t understand had your heart twisting in pain, both when those words had left his mouth and when you thought about them again.

He had gotten angry because of what you’d told him had happened with Ed, your boyfriend. His eyes had widened when you told him he’d left you waiting for an hour yesterday, because he ‘got distracted with his friends, and forgot to pick you up from your shift’. It was your anniversary.

But that wasn’t why Aemond had shouted to you that you didn’t understand- that came after. Earlier today, your phone had rang with his call: he had told you he was nearby, that his Ma had asked him to buy some bread before leaving for her shift, and if you minded if he stayed over a bit.

Spending time with him had become the highlight of your day recently, so a smile had curved your lips as you told him yes. He had arrived with a CD in his hands, “I know you like this shit.” he told you then, showing you the new album by Franz Ferdinand you had been planning to buy for weeks now.

You had gasped, and started covering his cheeks with kisses despite his half-hearted efforts to get away from your grip- half-hearted because his arm had already sneaked to hold your waist. “You’re mental.” you had told him with wide eyes, but he had just tutted and shrugged, leaving the CD on your desk and throwing himself on your bed.

“How did it go with the eejit?” he had asked you then, referring to Ed and your anniversary. His arm had been covering his eyes, but he took it away and looked at you when you hadn’t answered. “What did he do?” he had asked with a sigh.

You had briefly glanced at him before letting your gaze fall on the white and burgundy sheets of your bed. He wasn’t one who let go of this kind of things- not with you, at least- and you had known an answer was necessary if you weren’t planning on having him shut up and stare into your eyes for three hours.

So you had sighed heavily and brought your eyes back on his, “He didn’t show up.”

At your words, he had looked like he had stopped breathing. Then, he’d sunken his teeth into his lips, closed his eyes and let out a low and deep breath. “You’re aware he’s still breathing because you want him to?”

His eyes had opened again, and he’d directed them to you, waiting for your answer. When you’d nodded, he had continued: “Changed your mind?” he’d asked you, his tone slightly pleading, with a hint of hope. But you’d shaken your head.

You had seen his eyes closing again, and he’s let out another deep breath. “What did you do, then?”

“I walked.”

Silence had filled the air between you two once again, until he’d straightened up and sat on the edge of your bed. He had ran a hand on his face and settled his elbows on his knees, “You walked… Didn’t call me?”

“It’s just a ten minute walk.” you had tried to explain with a shake of your head, but he had stopped you.

“And now your throat aches.”

You had bitten the inside of your cheek at that. You were always cold, always wore two pairs of trousers to go to school, always had as many blankets as possible on your bed. Aemond knew, and each time you stepped foot into his house he had the kettle on, and the blanket that held the most warmth was folded and waiting on the couch, and he asked you right away if you wanted that ugly but incredibly warm sweater he never wore.

“It doesn’t.” you had told him, and it was true, because you were still healing from the last time you had the flue, and your antibodies were still strong.

“Mh.” he had said, nodding. You had never seen anger simmering quite as much as it did in him in that moment. “Why don’t you fucking leave him, mh? Still fuckin’ think he deserves you?” he had said, his voice rising at every word. “I’m genuinely curious, love- tell me.”

“Aemond…” you had said, interrupting yourself with a sigh. He had got up from the bed and walked over to the window, leaning his hands on the ledge. “I like him when he’s with me.”

“Well, that’s a fucking pathetic thing to say.” he had told you before turning around, his eyes as hard as ice, “That’s because you can’t find a bloody nice thing to say ‘bout him.”

“He’s still me boyfriend, though-“ you had tried to say before his shouts filled the room.

“And he shouldn’t fuckin’ be! It’s your fault he still is,” he had said, pointing a finger in your direction, “and it makes me fucking mental just thinking about it.”

“Then don’t, Aemond! It’s none of your fucking business!” you had tried to retort, but you had told it to yourself how daft your words had sounded, since it was Aemond the one always available to listen to you yap about how shite Ed made you feel while barely containing tears in your eyes.

“Shut up, don’t even fucking play this card with me!” he had yelled at you before taking a deep breath and pushing his black hair out of his face. That still hadn’t tamed the tone of his voice when he’d spoken again, “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?!” his eyes had been wide as he looked at you with a hint of desperation in hie voice, a hand held out to you in hope.

But your brows had furrowed, and your eyes had expressed nothing but confusion as you’d looked at him.

His hand had fallen and slapped his thigh, “Leave him, or don’t fucking talk to me again.”

He had walked away then, leaving you with wide eyes and the security that those words weren’t what he had been thinking about when he had told you that you didn’t understand.

And you admitted it to yourself as you walked to Aemond’s house at midnight, with the freezing cold of February seeping into your bones, that you might have waited a bit much to act on whatever you needed to act on.

But you did pat yourself on the shoulder for the strong punch you’d landed on Ed’s nose about an hour ago- which, in all honesty, was something you’d learnt from Aemond and the lessons he gave you so you could ‘have a wee chance to survive if they attacked you on the street’, if someone was to say it with his words.

After you had exited Ed’s house, a mischievous grin plastered on your lips, your thoughts had gone to Aemond right away, thinking about his laugh when you would have told him what you’d done. Your smile had fallen.

But it was fine, you told yourself as you walked faster in the dark night, because you were going to fix everything.

The truth was, you had never felt quite as empty as you did when Aemond had left your room that evening. And you had already known there that you needed to go to Ed’s and leave him- which you realised hurt your hand way more than it did your heart.

Aemond was right. Fucking Aemond Targaryen, the lad that wanted to talk to nobody at school except for you and Sal Quinn, the one that wanted no glimpse of a relationship, was right.

You needed to walk faster.

You took out your phone and flipped it open, pondering on whether or not to call him and ask him to pick you up on the street where Mae Allbrook lived. Realising that would have needed to stay still for at least three minutes as you waited for him, you flipped your phone closed and put it back into the pocket of your jeans.

You definitely didn’t do it because Aemond would have screamed at you for the entire ride back to his house- or better yet, for the ride and for the ten minutes he’d spend heating your hands up by rubbing them between his.

No, it was better to make your grand entrance at his house and have him freak out there, while you sat in front of the fire in his living room.

You let out a sigh when you saw the old, ruined red car, weakly lit by the nearby light pole. You almost ran to the door and jumped over the low gate, before taking out your phone again.

“Aemond,” you said when he answered. You heard the sigh he let out, and you understood how affected he, too, was about what had happened earlier that day. “I’m outside.”

He didn’t close the call after those words left your mouth, but you heard a stomp, and understood that he hadn’t even closed the call before launching himself off his bed and running downstairs.

The front door swung open in front of you, making your hair fly in front of your face. He didn’t wait for you to step inside, deciding instead to take matters into his own hands and grab your jacket to pull you in roughly.

Before you knew, he was muttering to himself behind you, his hands passing over your thighs over and over to heat them up. “You feel your hands yet?” he asked gruffly, not even trying to hide how he still remembered your last conversation word by word.

You nodded and said, “I’m not that cold.” but he tutted and shook his head, not believing a word. “Care to tell me the fuck you’re doing?” he finally asked.

“Apologising.” you answered after some seconds, slightly distracted by the way his wide palms transferred heat into the skin of your thighs. “You were right.”

You turned your head to look at him behind you, and he let out a sigh, stilling his movements and leaving his hands on the top of your legs. He threatened to move them to your hips, his movements slow and unsure, before his warm palms left your body and he got up on his feet, making you look at him from the floor, “I’m tired. Tell me if I have to bring you home or you crash here.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, getting up from the floor and grabbing your own arm with a hand. “Can I stay over?”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes as they met yours, but then he nodded towards the stairs, and you followed him to his room.

“Change.” he told you with an assertive tone once you reached his room, putting a hand in his wardrobe and throwing that ugly sweater and a pair of sweatpants at you.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a grin at his annoyed actions. But as you went to the bathroom to change, you couldn’t help but think about what his expression would be like when you finally told him.

His room was always quite dark and warm, and the dim light that came from the tank he kept Vhagar in made everything seem blue.

You approached him slowly, nibbling at the skin inside your lower lip as his eyes went from the ash tray set on his nightstand to you.

You could see the smoke of his Benson and Hedges coming out of his nose and going upwards. “Come here.” he said then, slightly defeated, but only half-heartedly.

So you climbed onto his bed and he reached out with a hand to touch your waist. “Still cold…” he muttered to himself before deciding to bring you closer to him.

He put off his cigarette on the ashtray and held you with his arms wrapped around you, a hand on the curve of your hip. “I’m sorry.” you told him, looking in his blue eyes you couldn’t quite see.

He didn’t say anything about your apology, but you felt his hand twitch on your hip. “What did you think you were doing, walking alone at this time?”

His features were lightened by those soft blue hues, making the sharp angles of his face even more so. You raised your hand and trailed your finger on his cheekbone. His skin was hot, and you felt him stop breathing at your touch. Your hand dropped back on the bed, “I left him.”

You started to worry when you didn’t see him starting to breathe again, but then he talked, “You’re not lying?”

When you shook your head in no, his hand tightened on your hip drastically. “Fuckin’ finally.” he said, letting out a deep breath. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, “He just sat there, holding his nose after I punched him.”

You saw Aemond’s eyes widen, and the corners of his mouth curled up until they formed a wide grin. He started laughing, his chest shaking as he shook his head. “Wonderful woman…” he muttered, leaning his mouth on your shoulder, making goosebumps spread wildly on your skin.

He started caressing your hip then, going dangerously close to your arse as he always did. But still, what you felt was a deep sense of peace there: at his house, in his arms, surrounded by the smell of smoke and green tea that clung to his skin.

You’d known each other since you were kids, since way before he had started dying his hair black and got into the metal music he had definitely been listening to before you called him.

But you had never really talked until four months ago. You had your friends, he had his, all outside of school, and you both had never bothered trying to talk. It had all changed in a matter of days after an English Literature project.

It felt weird when you thought about it, trusting someone the way you did him after so few time, even if you’d known him for ever, because you’d never really talked.

“You know I love you, right?” you said then. It was out of the blue, really, but you couldn’t help it.

Those three words seemed to hit him more than you intended them to. He paused the movement of his hand on your hips and cleared his throat, straightening himself slightly. He still didn’t answer, though, but simply sighed and left a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t care about you saying it back: I just want you to know I love you.” you said hurriedly but calmly, distancing yourself slightly to look at him, finally able to do it properly since your eyes adjusted to the dark.

He let out a snorted laugh at your words, and shook his head. “D’you think I don’t love you?” he asked you, his voice low and husky. His grip on your hip tugged you close so you were sitting on top of him, “That’s not the problem, princess.”

“I don’t understand-“ you tried to argue, but he laughed again, interrupting you.

“You do, love… You do.” he said before leaning close to your ear. His nose brushed against your earlobe, his lips against your jaw as his breath ghosted your skin and he murmured lowly, “You got me wrapped around your finger... Got me doing whatever you want me to.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hand was gripping his shoulder and your nails were definitely digging in his skin through his sweater, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“And now…” he whispered , interrupting himself to let out an unironic laugh and shaking his head. “Now you’re sitting on my lap, pretending not to notice how fucking hard my cock is for you.”

You were breathing fast, so fast you felt the blood pumping in your ears, and his words did nothing to quell that. His smirk remained on his lips as he brought his cold blue eyes back to yours.

He tilted his head to the side, a strand of his dark, dyed hair falling over his eyes. “What do you plan on doing about it, then?” he asked, the teasing tone still present. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip on your hip tightened, told a different story.

Was it real what he’d said? That he loved you, craved you so much that his cock was rock hard after barely five minutes of you sitting on him?

“About…” you said, pressing your lips together, trying to gather the courage to complete the sentence. You found it when the corner of his mouth quirked up again and both his hands found their way to your arse, squeezing it and pulling you flush against him. The action made you let out a small sigh, but you decided not to let yourself fear him, so you raised a hand and brought the strand of black hair away from his face. “What do I plan on doing about your cock?” you said in a whisper.

His mouth curved into a smirk and he breathed out another laugh due to your words. He was usually the dirty one, even if you still didn’t exactly know how dirty he was. “Yeah, ‘bout that…” he confirmed with two slight nods of his head. “Now that you’re fully aware of what you do to me.” he added, letting out a deep breath.

One hand remained firm on your arse, keeping you right where he wanted you, while the other moved up to your face. He traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, feeling the softness of your skin and the pulse quickening beneath it. In that moment, all the cold you had felt as you had walked to his house for forty minutes was completely forgotten, disappeared in your mind like ash after a breath.

“What do you think I should do?” you asked, swallowing harshly. You suddenly felt stupid for the question, and you did even more when he snorted out another laugh.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Why don't ye use your imagination, Princess?" he whispered huskily. The hand on your face slid back, cupping your cheek as his thumb continued to brush against your lower lip.

“Okay…” you whispered out in a breath as you nodded. Then you slowly leaned into the brief distance that separated you two, brushing your lips against his before pressing them into a kiss.

It was rushed, definitely stupid, but you wanted to try and see how it felt. His lips had always looked rough to you, chipped and bloodied in winter, but now, against yours, they were soft, boiling hot, sweet and incredibly inviting.

His hand tightened its grip on your arse, pulling you even closer to his body as his other hand tangled itself in your hair, angling your head for better access to your mouth.

His kiss was even gentle, which surprised you, but more than anything it made you want more. When his grip on your hair tightened and pulled on it just enough to make you wet but not enough to hurt excessively, a moan came up your throat and overturned into his mouth.

He pulled away before capturing your lower lip between his teeth and letting it go. His hand slapped your arse, making you jolt forward and making him laugh. “Slut.” he muttered, closing the distance between you two again.

You let out a chuckle against his lips, and started grinding your hips against his. Right away, he groaned and pulled you closer still, eagerly helping you with your movements.

His other hand moved from your cheek to your neck, fingers gripping gently but firmly. "Is that what you want, princess?" he growled, breaking the kiss briefly to let you breathe. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. "You want to feel me inside you?" he asked, voice strained and husky.

You were slightly startled by his hand around your throat, by his thumb stroking your pulse point like it was the most fragile and precious thing in his world. You bit your lower lip and your hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was holding you, which made his lips part in what looked like feral hunger, before nodding.

Your response was everything he needed to hear. His hand on your neck tightened slightly as he claimed your mouth once more, kissing you harder. His hips thrust upward, pushing his erection against your core, as if to emphasize his words. He let go of your hair, his hand trailing down your back until it reached your waist.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping at your skin before tracing a scorching path down to your neck. He loved the way you moaned when he bit you there, and he did so again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "Fuck…" he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into your waist. He seemed to need to feel you, to make sure this whole thing was real. "Use your words, Princess."

A whine escaped your lips before you were able to reply, and you felt completely daft other then drenched between your thighs. “Yes,” you said, your words like a plea, “I want you inside of me.”

His eyes bore in yours for two seconds before he pushed you off him, making you land on your hands on the mattress. He pulled himself up, standing on his knees on the bed, “Take your clothes off.” he ordered with a nod of his head as he stared down at you, his tone leaving no space for arguing.

With a heavy chest, mouth parted and eyes wide, you complied. You unzipped his black jumper, trying not to be clumsy as you slipped it off your arms.

Still, Aemond seemed unable to wait, because he quickly threw the jumper off the bed before his fingers found the bow you tied to the string of his sweatpants.

He undid it as you took your shirt off. “How many fuckin’ pair of trousers you’ve got on?!” he growled, both bothered and amused when he found a pair of leggings under the sweats.

You let out a chuckle as he did the same, shaking his head as he pulled the first layer of fabric off roughly, before doing the same with the second.

He stopped when you were left with only your underwear, and he stared bluntly, pressing his lips together as his chest raised and fell heavily.

You moved your right leg to brush its calf against his clothed thigh, your eyes on his. His hissed in a breath, his hand gripping your thigh like he wanted to rip off the meat to eat it. “It’s your turn.” you whispered as you let your leg wander higher.

The action gained you his grip to tighten and a slap to be delivered to your thigh. But he complied, pulling his t-shirt off from the collar and blindly throwing it somewhere before pulling down his trousers.

He put a hand on your knee and settled between your thighs, crushing his mouth against yours once again. The roughness of Aemond's touch sent sparks flying across your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned out of control. He pressed you further into the mattress, his body aligning perfectly with yours. You could feel every inch of his bare torso, each ripple of muscle and scar, his heat enveloping you like a living flame.

His grip on your thigh loosened and his fingers went up until they reached you inner thigh, teasing you as if he wasn’t dying for it. You whined against his mouth, squirming under his touch.

He chuckled against your mouth, and he gave into your desires in a matter of seconds, sliding his hand inside your drenched knickers and exploring your folds. He breathed heavily on your wet lips after he had to break the kiss. He looked at you as he slipped a finger inside, and watched intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Think, Princess…” he drawled, his lips brushing against yours before doing the same on your cheek. He added another finger, making you let out a moan. “Think of each touch I give you tonight…”

He stopped his movements temporarily, taking his fingers out and making you gasp, to grab the sides of your knickers and pull them down and off roughly.

His mouth reached your neck while his fingers found your cunt once again, entering you in such a beautiful way your eyes rolled back. He started pumping his fingers in and out roughly, making your breath catch in your throat before it came out in a broken scream.

“Think of this, and then back at that fuckin’ halfwit that you let inside this beautiful cunt.”

Your wetness was completely coating his fingers at that point, and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else, or so it seemed as you looked at him through half-closed eyelids.

He continued his assault, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing circular motions on it, as his lips left kisses, hot and wet, on the skin of your neck. They made you remember how his hand felt wrapped around your throat, and you found yourself craving it once again.

The memory and the sensations he was giving you only fuelled your wetness, and your orgasm drew closer. “Aemond…” you breathed out, your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers.

Just as if he was reading your mind, his lips left the soft skin of your neck to leave space for his free hand. You let out an embarrassing whimper when his fingers wrapped securely under your jaw.

“I think you’re liking it too much…” Aemond groaned, his voice husky and gravel as his fingers worked restlessly inside your pussy. “I should stop.”

Your hand found the wrist of the hand that was holding your neck when those words left his mouth, and you let out an irritated moan, kicking his side with a trembling leg.

He let out a small laugh, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appeared black. Aemond’s fingers went faster, making you let out a strangled yell as your eyes stayed fixed on his.

Your legs threatened to close, but he avoided it by getting closer, his breath now ghosting over your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, crushing your lips against his as your pussy spasmed around his long fingers.

He kept them there after you climaxed, slowing the movements of his fingers progressively before sliding them out. He brought them to his lips like an instinctive motion.

He groaned at the sight of your flushed face, your eyes glazed with pleasure, and the way your body still trembled from the orgasm he'd given you, and definitely even for the taste of you he was licking from his fingers. You bet he loved reducing you to this state - wanting, needing, begging for him.

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting off the bed and taking off his boxers. His cock was hard, veiny, and you found yourself thinking of it inside you, stretching you out while you felt every singe thing he wished you to.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, opening the plastic with his teeth and discarding both the useless pieces carelessly on the floor. He slid it on, barely looking at what he was doing before he nodded at you, “Take that shit off.”

You furrowed your brows and looked down, noticing you still had your bra on. You were still breathing heavily, but you quickly did as he’d asked.

He moved back on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approached you with hunger. He was like a madman- you had never seen him like this before.

He kissed you again, hooking his hand under your right knee and folding its leg over the other. It provided him with the perfect view of your ass and face, and it seemed to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as he broke the kiss to take a look at you.

One hand found the top of your thigh while he used the other to hold himself up on the mattress. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, making your hand fly to his hair and a gasp escape your throat.

His hand left your thigh and went to his cock, guiding it to your pussy. He teased your already tender flesh with his tip, making you both groan.

His mouth disclosed around your nipple and he lied his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed out once again, shaking his head before straightening up.

His hand went back to your thigh, and he ground himself against you. His head rolled back and his eyes closed at the contact, his mouth fell agape.

And you, with his cock almost inside you and his hand pinning your body to his will, couldn’t help but look at him: at the sweat that clung to his body, at his long hair you craved to pull, at his fingers that had just made you cum like nobody ever did.

When he opened his eyes again, they locked on yours right away, staring down at you. Then, he thrust inside you in one, swift and steady motion, filling you up with his cock just like you wanted him to. You weren’t cold any longer.

You didn’t try to conceal the scream if pure pleasure that escaped your lips at his motion, and he didn’t hide his. “Shit, Aemond!” you moaned, brows furrowed as you looked up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he grunted, punctuating his phrase with a thrust, making your body jolt forward despite the way his hand was holding you tightly. “I’m already trying not to cum.”

His words made you cheeks heat up and a grin spread on your lips as he began to thrust inside you. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling every vein on his cock despite the latex separating you- maybe you were fooling yourself, but you were fine with it.

Aemond’s thrusts left you both breathless, and filled the room with the sound of skin meeting skin in perfectly rough motions.

Nothing had ever felt as good as the feeling of him inside you, and the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him made him understand that perfectly, other than making you feel like a pathetic whore.

His hand on your thigh was leaving red marks that had the shape of his fingers, and you loved it. “Please… Harder.” you found yourself begging, and he complied.

His hand left your thigh, gave your ass a firm slap before balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress to hold him up. His other hand reached your hair and grabbed a fistful, twisting it between his fingers before tugging on it sharply, making you yelp and arch your back.

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” he said with a wicked grin, pounding into your with more force than before. His hips collided against the skin of your ass he’d just slapped, making it even redder.

In response, your hand wrapped around his arm and your nails dug into the fair skin, making him grunt and pull even harder on your hair.

He fucked you harder as a form of punishment which he knew would only make things better for both of you. “Look at me, Princess.” Aemond breathed out the order, his chest heaving and his mouth open.

When you did, he let out an uncontrolled moan and gave you a particularly hard thrust, “Who owns you now, mh?”

The dirty talk, the rough treatment - it all fueled your desire, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. That’s why your lips curved into a grin.

But he wasn’t playing, because his fist opened and he slapped your ass again, “Answer.” he ordered. There, you understood it was all about pleading you to tell him, to reassure him, that Ed was gone from your mind, that he was the one inhabiting it.

“You do.”

At your words, and your burning eyes that accompanied them, Aemond grinned, turning you onto your stomach and pulling you ass up, all without exiting your tight heat.

He pushed your hips down until your chest pressed down on the soft comforter, and he started pounding again.

The change of position made your mind go blank, and your eyes almost saw white for how deep he reached.

He leaned in, still slamming into your with from behind like wild animal- his grin gone. “Who owns you, Princess?” he asked you again with the most guttural voice you’d ever heard coming from him.

“You!” you screamed with the few air and fewer focus the new position left you, as you felt your second orgasm approach like a storm above a deep sea.

“Good girl.” Aemond breathed out, his thrusts becoming erratic and his grip tightening as he let out a loud moan. His pace quickened, his breathing turned even more ragged, and you could feel him as he started losing control.

“Aemond!” you yelled, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow pressed against your cheek.

Hearing you scream his name, seeing the pleasure on your face, sent Aemond made him go even more mental than before: he pounded into you harder, faster, the bed rocking underneath the ferocity of his movements.

And your vision narrowed, your thoughts filled only with images of him and the feeling of his cock pounding restlessly inside you as your cunt clamped down around his cock, like you wanted him stretching you wider, breaking you even more.

The sensation of your second orgasm hitting you sent him over the edge, and with few powerful thrusts and a low growl, he came, filling the condom up to the brim.

Spent, he let himself fall on the bed, careful not to hurt you as he pulled out and wrapped his arms around your waist, making your back press against his chest.

He buried his face into your neck, breathing heavily. You bit your lip hard, trying to calm down and speak, “You were slightly better than Ed.”

You felt him let out a breathed laugh against your neck, but that didn’t save you from the slap he gave your ass. “Shut up.”

You jolted forward but chuckled. Then freed yourself from his embrace, making him frown and lock his eyes on you.

You scooted down, enjoying his confused expression and showing it with a grin, until you lied with your chest on his legs.

You pulled the used condom off his still-hard cock with a wicked gleam in your eyes. You revelled in the way his breath caught in his throat at your actions, and even more so when his mouth opened in pleasure as you started cleaning him off his cum with your tongue.

His hand went to your hair, holding the side of your face as you looked up at the desperate look for more in his eyes.

“Shit…” he breathed out raggedly. “You’re such a slut…”

You grinned, and started trailing kisses up his stomach and to his neck until you sat on top of him again. You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed him, aware of how he could taste himself on your tongue.

His arms held you tight against his warm chest, his forehead against yours as you broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but think about how many months you had thrown at the wind when you could have been in his bed, warm and…

“I love you.”

[heartsforvin]

Hi!! id love a hurt/comfort type fic. maybe reader hears Vin saying reader is too clingy or sees him flirting with someone else and they have a huge fight but make up at the end (i hope this makes sense lmao) <3

TOO CLINGY

thank you for the request !! i hope you enjoy <33

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: hurt/comfort, cussing, arguments, use of pet names, lmk if i forgot anything !!

summary: you overhear vinnie tell one of his friends that you’re too clingy, which results in an argument between the two of you

the night was going just fine until you overheard your boyfriend say something that completely ruined your mood.

you and vinnie were out at one of your guys’ friends house for a little get together. it’d been a bit since everyone got to hang out, so you decided to all get together again.

you were standing off to the side, chatting with one of your friends while vinnie was not too far from you, talking to his.

you don’t know how this subject came up, seeing as you could only hear parts of the conversation over the music.

when you did though, your whole body shut down and you just felt like crying.

“yeah lately she’s just been extra fuckin’ clingy, i don’t know what it’s about but it’s getting old real fuckin’ fast.”

anxiety ran through you faster than ever, and all you wanted to do was go in your room and hide from absolutely everyone and everything.

the only reason you’d been so clingy lately was because vinnie’s been in paris for a few days, not being able to see him.

so yeah, you’d say you have a pretty good reason.

pushing past people in the crowded house, you make your way to the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it before going over to the sink.

you grip it harshly as you try to hold yourself together.

splashing water on your face you hear a knock come from the door behind you.

“occupied!” you shout, hoping whoever on the other side can hear through the loud noise.

when another knock came soon after you groaned and shouted again, only to be followed by an all too familiar voice calling out your name.

“let me in, sweetheart.” his voice, although a shout, sent instant serotonin through you.

you open the door just enough for vinnie to see your eyes, head barely peaking out.

“see, ‘m fine.” you say as if you didn’t just almost cry over his words.

vinnie though, knows you better than that. “let me in, please.” he says, just enough for you to hear.

opening the door wider, vinnie steps inside and shuts it behind him. you go to sit on the closed toilet seat while vinnie leans against the door.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, breaking the silence between the two of you.

sighing, your head is in your hands as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to let a tear slip.

you feel a hand on your knee and that’s when you move your hands from your face and see vinnie is now eye level with you.

“i heard you,” you say, making vinnie’s brows furrow. “heard what you were saying to adam and jett.”

vinnie sighed when he finally realized what you were talking about. he thought he was far enough out of earshot for you to hear.

“baby i— no, don’t try and excuse this, vinnie!” you shout at him.

vinnie stands and backs up, giving you space even though it’s a small space.

“i’m not gonna fuckin’ give you an excuse!” he shouts back. “maybe it’s true! maybe you have been a bit to clingy lately!”

you just sit there, taking his words in as he shouts at you. hearing it a second time is just as bad as the first.

he hasn’t been too busy lately up until he went to paris, so the two of you did spend a lot of time before then.

still didn’t excuse the fact that words hurt. clingy or not, you just loved spending time with vinnie.

“i haven’t seen you in days vinnie!” its just a screaming match at this point, hoping no one can hear your words to each other.

vinnie sighs as he rubs his hands over his face, listening to you speak. “you’ve been in europe for days, vin! sorry i’ve just wanted to spend time with my boyfriend.”

vinnie rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “you won’t leave me alone for five fucking minutes!”

his voice gets more stern which only spurs on tears faster. you want to let them spill, to let every tear that you have out, but you won’t.

he was right, you have been kind of up his ass lately, not letting him be. that’s only because he’s spent all his needed time in europe, now it was your time with him.

“all i want is five minutes to myself,” he sighs. “even when i stream, you’re standing right there, breathing over me.” he tells you.

your eyes become watery and suddenly you can’t hold them in anymore and you just let the tears fall.

with your head in your hands again, you silently cry as your body shakes, vinnie watching this all unfold.

“i’m sorry i just miss you!” you scream at him through your cries, voice straining as you do. “all it ever is, is work, work, work. i just want five minutes with you!”

vinnie gets down to your level again and places his hands on yours. he hears you, truly does, but you need to to understand one thing.

“this is my job, baby. you know this,” he says. “you think i like working, going out of the country this much?”

he does, don’t get him wrong, but he also loves to be home with you.

however, when you’re always up on him when he does come back from a five to seven day trip, that’s when he get irritated.

you shake your head at his question, he wipes your tears with the pads of his thumbs, making you smile.

you kiss his hand when he moves them to your cheeks. “there’s that pretty smile.” he says.

“i’m sorry for yelling, i just get so frustrated sometimes,” vinnie sighs. “i love you, you know that.”

you smile weakly at him. “i’m sorry too. i just miss you so much when you’re not with me, and when you finally are, i just like to be with you every second.”

vinnie caresses your cheek and smiles at you. “i know, sweetheart. you know i love our time together, but some things you do have to let me do on my own.” he chuckles.

you reciprocate with another smile, but finally leaning in to give him a proper kiss. tears are still on your cheeks, so he wipes them away as the two of you share this cute moment.

“are we good now?” he asks, pulling you up off the toilet seat.

you hug him tightly, nuzzling into his chest as his arms wrap around your waist.

“we’re good.” you smile up at him.

he kisses you once more before opening the bathroom door and the two of you join the others again.

hi hi !! thank yo for the request again !! i hope you loved it !!

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @sturnioloshacker , @khackerr , @bernelflo , @louloulemons-blog , @leqonsluv3r , @kriissy4gov , @kayleighh , @slvthrs , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @hallecarey1 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @khxna , @skye-44 , @jpg3 , @eddieslut69 , @miilzzy ,

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm coming out

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'pride'

rated t | 880 words | no cw | tags: coming out, bisexual king gareth, side steddie

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Gareth hated to admit it, but he was jealous.

He was jealous of Steve still being able to hide under the radar enough that he could go to gay clubs and pride events without anyone batting an eye. He was jealous of Eddie being out publicly, not having to keep any part of his life a secret except for what he truly wanted to. And he was jealous of his own boyfriend, Sam, for not even having to worry about how the public would react if they knew he was gay.

"I just think it sounds like you want to come out," he said over the phone. "If Eddie can, why can't you?"

"It's not that easy!" Gareth argued, though he wasn't really sure how to back that argument up. It was that easy. Nobody in the band would care if he decided to come out, and most of the fans would be fine with it if they went off their reaction to Eddie coming out.

"Why not?" Sam asked, calm in Gareth's chaos.

"Because if people don't like Eddie, it can be for any number of reasons. He's loud, or a nerd, or too hyper. If they don't like me, it's definitely just because I like men." Gareth had never actually acknowledged that thought before, but here he was, saying it out loud on the phone to his boyfriend. "I don't want people to hate me."

"Baby..." Sam started. He sighed. "It's your choice. You know I would never pressure you to do anything you aren't ready for. But it does sound like the only person who is holding you back is you."

Gareth didn't feel like talking about it more, but Sam let him change the subject and the rest of the conversation went fine.

"Think about it, Gare," Sam said as they hung up.

That's all he did for days. He saw countless posts about pride events in the cities they were stopping in on the tour, Eddie even made an appearance at a drag brunch and left VIP tickets for the performers to come to Corroded Coffin's show that night. He thought about being able to be a part of the community in the way he knew he could be.

"Ed?" He asked right before they all went to bed.

"Yeah?" Eddie was typing out a text on his phone, probably some long and romantic and disgusting ode to Steve.

"You're going to the parade in Boston right?"

Eddie looked up from his phone, brows furrowing. "Yeah, why?"

"Mind if I come with you?"

"You're always welcome, you know that." Eddie smiled. "You coming as an ally or as the 'B' in LGBTQIA+?"

"I think I'm gonna come as me."

****

He didn't tell Sam what he was doing, figured he would have time between getting back to the tour bus and when news started hitting.

He forgot that Sam tracked alerts on Twitter for him.

His phone started ringing the moment he hit the end of the parade route.

"Hey, love," Gareth couldn't stop smiling. He'd never felt like he belonged here quite like he did today. "All okay?"

"I'm so fuckin' proud of you." Sam's smile was evident in his voice. "You could've given me a little warning though. Seeing 20 notifications pop up at once is a bit terrifying."

"Sorry. Wanted to surprise you. Did you like my shirt?" Gareth looked down at the shirt he was wearing.

"You mean the "ask me about my boyfriend" with a bi pride flag shirt? Yeah, I'd like a matching one as soon as possible."

"Yeah?"

They both laughed as Gareth found a small corner of the alley they'd stopped in to be alone.

"I can't wait to kiss you. This is the hottest thing you've ever done."

"What about that time I fucked you against my drum set?" Gareth asked with a smirk.

"Okay. The second hottest thing you've ever done. Still don't know how you had the strength to hold most of my weight for that long," Sam sounded like his thoughts were drifting to the memory of that day. "Anyway! I don't wanna keep you from having fun. But call me later."

"Okay, babe. Wish you were here," Gareth said softly. "Miss you."

"Miss you too. But only three weeks until you're home."

"Feels like forever."

"Dramatic." Sam laughed. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too. If you see me getting drunk in a gay bar later, no you don't."

"I'd buy you a drink if I was there."

"Three weeks."

"21 days."

"You two are disgusting." Eddie yelled from a few feet away.

Sam laughed and said goodbye as Gareth walked over to Eddie.

"Not any more disgusting than you and Steve," he grumbled. "At least Steve comes with you for most of the tour."

"Can you imagine if he didn't? The world would end."

Gareth rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. Drinks?"

"Drinks!" Eddie threw his arms up and started running down the block, ignoring the yells of people recognizing him as he made his way to the bar they'd already chosen.

Gareth followed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. He was out, and maybe he'd have to do it more officially later on, but for now, this was enough.

[t0ast-ghost]

HIIII Episode 10 (Dagger Of The Mind) time! I made it to ten! Now only… one.. seven… twenty… seventy four episodes to go!

Here’s the review:

- remember kids; when trying to beam something down to a penal colony they have to remove their shields first

- that is a whole ass man.. HOW DID YOU MISS THAT WHOLE ASS MAN

- no but seriously even airports can check for human tissue like- I forgot this was made in the 60s I’m stupid stfu t0ast

- “more like a resort colony” my ass, Kirk

- BONES!!! He just kinda stands on the bridge (for no reason) and stares at what’s happening (at Jim)

- wow two redshirts dead in five minutes

- okay Bones walks over to Spock FOR NO REASON and I’m pretty sure he just wants to bicker

- my name is WHAT my name is WHO my name CHICKACHICKA Van Gelder

- why would destroying one control panel kill the ship?!? Design flaw imo

- “that doesn’t ring true” what are you a truth detector? I thought he was a doctor

- I love Bones “going against” Kirk (he’s smiling the whole damn time) and Spock backing him up

- “oh yeah I’m sending down Dr. Noel” REVEAL SHES A WOMAN OH MY GOD

- why’d he need to bring Spock down to the transporter room? Emotional support? He’d miss his boyfriend?

- Lethe? Isn’t that the river of uhhh- ummm ugmmm… I forgor

- I like whatever was happening with the light in Lethe’s eyes

- awwwe Spock and Bones working together

- STOP CUTTING OFF DR. NOEL

- WHY WOULD YOU STAY THERE OVERNIGHT?!? Kirk would NOT survive a horror movie. He’d be first to die (comment down below)

- McCoy is like “Our boyfriend could be in danger, use your damn mind magic”

- OHHH OKAY I SEE WHY VULANS MEDITATE. The words he speaks to Van Gelder are a lot like being lead through meditation

- I LOBE THIS SCENE! The dialogue from Van Gelder, the movements and prompts from Spock, MCCOYS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS

- Kirk catapulting into danger right after they TOLD HIM NOT TO

- “and now she’s gone” “helen” I thought he was gonna shout or smt so when he just said “helen” it got me

- you know how this would be so much more tragic? If (canonically) Kirk was dating someone else aboard the ship *cough* you know *cough cough* and then the evil doctor implanted the idea he was in love with Dr. Noel and then him having to deal with the idea of loving both her and the other… anyway

- “Kirk to enterprise.. ughhkghjkk”

- He is literally the worst.. girlfailure

- people are too good at hiding in plain sight

- KIRK NOT AFRAID TO PUNCH A BITCH

- she- she just killed a guy.. good for her

- THE FUCKIN- the sitcom ass look Spock gives Jim like “oh really dr Adams did this”

- MCCOY!!! yeah he’s around. HE’S DEAD JIM MOME- oh no “he’s dead, captain” goddamnit Bones

- “can you imagine the mind emptied by that thing. Without even a tormentor” was a line most definitely meant for Spock and Bones but Dr.Noel saying “I understand” reminds me that she is indeed there not just observing but participating

- Bones just causally leaning against the back of his chair

- does he know? Does he even know that most medical officers don’t normally lean like that against your chair?

- OMG I SAW A POST ABOUT THE “it’s hard to believe a man could die of loneliness” “not when he’s sat in that room” AND THEN KIRK LOOKS OVER TO SPOCK AND SMILES

- he’s so surrounded by loved ones bro is beaming

Anyway all in all a good tenth episode!

I made a master list of all my Star Trek tos thought posts :D

[blep-23]

Okay, I know I was kinda live blogging while watching the movie. But I was literally the only one there. Anyway, review and spoilers of Heart Eyes under the cut!!

First, this has to be known, I’ve never seen a romance movie in my life. I can’t do RomComs. I get second hand embarrassment too severe to actually enjoy the movie or show. Also, I’ve just never really see a romance movie?? Like, none ever caught my interest before.

ONTO THE REVIEW!!!

It was a good ass movie. I loved it. It is a horror movie with romance undertones. I’m a ✨freak✨, so the Heart Eyes Killer romance they had going on? I love it. Also I’m pretty sure the dude killer called the lady Killer “mommy” so that was a fuckin shock to my system.

Jumping back to the start, Jay, you smooth son of a bitch. I didn’t expect much from you, and you wowed me. Also his backstory around love is kinda depressing. And also… the final girl’s [I forgot her name, I’m so sorry girl, you were great, my brain is just not sticking to anything] backstory around love. Both of these fuckers are depressing as all shit when it comes to love.

The ex boyfriend showing up with a new girlfriend and final girl’s sudden reaction to not wanting to be seen as a loser about whatever is happening, is just to kiss him.

Honestly the entire part where final girl loses her key and what follows after, consequences of what Jay does as well, which leads to the bedroom scene(literally, just the two talking in her bedroom whole final girl digs glass out of Jay’s hand, dude broke a fucking window cause final girl forgot her key somewhere) and what follows it?! BRO?! WHY DID YOU HAVE THAT ON YOUR FUCKIN NIGHT STAND?! PUT IT IN A DRAWER!! Anyway, that scene was hilarious and then the closet.

Bro, final girl. If he didn’t know what you were trying to hide before, he knows now. You literally threw that thang at a killer in your closet and proceeded to slam it shut. If anything, the killer was shocked. Jay probably already saw it and just decided to not see. It was already awkward enough after seeing your place.

The fuckin tension between Jay and final girl was hilarious, they don’t know what to do with themselves! So, arguing it is. It was kinda funny in a horror situation. Cause they may not have beef, but they have something.

Also the fact they keep almost breaking said tension with a kiss while actively being pursued by a killer was kinda funny too.

Okay, the only part I didn’t like about the movie, was the airport part. It triggered the second hand embarrassment. Why would you hug someone from behind in public? WHAT IF ITS NOT THE PERSON WHO YOU THOUGHT IT WAS?! Put a hand on the shoulder and turn them, and then hug them if it’s the right person.

THE FUCKIN PLOT TWISTS?! Bro, the plot twists, I wasn’t even expecting them to pull plot twists like that.

Back to the killers, bro. *puts my hands on your shoulders* Bro, I need you to know, I’m not normal. The fact that I’m in awe of Killers being in love and killing together? It is not new, it is fictional, and that makes it a bit more okay (to me) to be foaming at the mouth over the two. I am not condoning murder or serial killers in general. I need you to know that.

But being in love with someone and then deciding, together, to commit murders and knowing exactly why and what comes after? Bro, I’d fold. Okay? The two are insane. And they’re insane for each other. And I’d love to read their love story. Or see it on screen. Either one.

The two killers are so fuckin Macabre, I love it. I’m obsessed with this movie now. I’m planning on getting it on dvd now. Just so I can watch it again and again.

Rating? 10/10. I love it. Im a little

✨freak✨

So unsurprisingly the movie has inspired me to write.

[mageofseven]

Nesting with Birdie: A BarbMams Love Story

Chapter 2

Taglist: @astroseuss @fcxyviixen

Let me know if you'd like to join the taglist~

Barbatos laid in bed with his boyfriend for a while; fortunately, it was his day off today so the butler could stay with him.

The older demon felt so guilty. He was usually so on top of things, but being with Mammon seems to have relaxed him too much in this case.

He should have used protection. Mammon may not have realized he could become pregnant, but Barb most certainly knew his boyfriend had that ability

Yet when things become intimate between the two and Mammon gets so needy and desperate for him, part of the older demon's brain just shuts off and all that matters in that situation is giving his boyfriend everything he needs.

He thought nothing of it before but...in the pursuit of giving this man everything he needs, he forgot that protecting him from unfortunate circumstances was also important.

Mammon depends on their relationship being a secret; he's made that very clear to the butler and in truth, Barbatos has never minded one bit.

However...Mammon is right. Their relationship cannot stay secret with this child in the midst...

Which is why Barbatos brought up this topic.

"Birdie, we need to discuss this...situation." He spoke softly to the man in his arms.

"I don't wanna even think 'bout it..." Mammon mumbled from inside his boyfriend's chest.

"This problem will not go away simply by ignoring it."

"I know..."

Barbatos kissed the younger man's head.

"I understand the timing of this is poor and something you might not be able to handle," Barb stroked his back. "But you do have options and I will explore whichever ones you would like."

Mammon turned his head, laying his cheek against his boyfriend's chest instead of hiding his face.

"Ya know...I used to kinda want kids; still do, if I'm honest," Mammon spoke in a soft tone. "But in my mind that was justa future thing, somethin' for a hopefully better version of myself to do when I'm in a better place like having the whole debt problem squared away and all of my issues sorted out...but that ain't this. I'm still a fuckin' mess, same as always...how can I give a kid a good life like this?"

Barbatos pursed his lips.

"Your life is...indeed in a tricky place, but it does not have to stay there." The butler explained. "If you are ready to make some lifestyles changes to help matters, I am more than willing to support you with it."

"But can I actually change?" Mammon lightly gripped his boyfriend's shirt. "I can't do anything right. Imma screw up, a burden, so fuckin' stupid--"

"You are not stupid." Barbatos lightly scolded the younger man. "You are well aware how much that word bothers me, little bird."

The word just gave the older demon flashbacks of when he found Mammon on the hallway floor of HoL, sobbing while he pulled his hair and hit his head, calling himself 'stupid' over and over again.

That situation was the catalyst to their entire relationship; however, it still wasn't a fond memory for the butler. It only reminded him how helpless he felt watching the second brother cry like that...

"But I--"

"You make mistakes, same as everyone else." Barb insisted. "No matter what your brothers say, you are a very intelligent man and I refuse to let you keep believing otherwise."

Mammon's brothers have infected his brain at his own detriment. Those other men created the voice that speaks horrible words inside his boyfriend's head and it was painful to see how much it hurt the second brother.

Surely if the brothers realized the damage they did to Mammon with their words that they would cease their insults and be softer with the greed demon

Or so Barb believed. Still, the butler couldn't interfere until Mammon himself made the decision to speak about his feelings to his brothers.

Mammon just kept shaking his head, as if this action could knock the bad thoughts out of his mind.

"I can't do this, but also have no clue what to do 'bout it."

Barb rubbed his boyfriend's back.

"All I ask is that you give this some thought; you do not need to have an answer right this moment."

Mammon sighed.

"Yeah, yeah."

The couple spent the day inside and once the sun had set, the Avatar of Greed had to leave his boyfriend so Barbatos could get some sleep for work tomorrow and Mammon could get home to avoid too much suspicion.

Considering how things had...developed for these men today, the couple was extra reluctant to part from one another.

Most of the leaving process involved Mammon repeating over and over again how he had to go, all the while he was the one clinging to Barbatos and stealing kisses from the amused butler.

Mammon trudged back home to HoL and started heading to his room

Until he found all of his brothers in the living room, waiting for him.

"Uhhh, what's with all this?"

The second brother could feel the other men staring at him so intently that he instinctively covered his stomach with his arms, as if he was afraid his brothers could see right through his body and at the tiny flesh thing trying to become a baby.

"Mammon, we'd like to have a talk with you." Lucifer explained, making his brother sweat.

"W-What the hell did I do now??"

Oh shit, he was gonna get tied to the rafters again for something, wasn't he??

The brother was internally panicking and not just for himself, but his kid too. There's no way it does the baby any good for Mammon to have his insides smooshed against each other from the tight rope.

Mammon backed up in fear.

"Nothing." His older brother looked at him with suspicion, wondering if the greed demon has done something and was doing a poor job of concealing it. "However--"

"Omg just tell us!!" Asmo begged.

"What--"

"Last night you were cursing about being late and that 'babe' was gonna be pissed." Belphie explained. "You thought I was asleep on the couch at the time."

...shit.

Okay so actually he said 'Barb' and not 'babe' but still, Mammon was caught.

"It's not just your mumbling though." Lucifer explained. "For the last few months, you've been particularly rushed each Saturday night, only to return late each Sunday."

"So just tell us! Who are you dating??"

Ok, not he was majorly panicking.

The second brother made a few attempts to speak, only to find himself too tongue-tied and instead ran up to his room, slamming the door.

Mammon slid to the floor and hid his face in his hands.

"Gaaah, why now??" He stressed before hitting himself in the head. "Stupid, stupid, stu--"

The man lowered his hand and instead hid his face in his arms.

He can't be doing that. Barb would be so upset if he knew was sitting here, hitting himself and calling himself that word

But what else was he supposed to do when everything was falling apart?

[flipwizardstarlight]

Now my tim/danny obsessed ass is thinking. Danny? Loves his grandpa ras. Also Danny? Loves his boyfriend Tim. Danny knows tim is a hero but hasn't talked to him about which one, cause Tim wasn't ready to take that step. Danny is chill with that. Danny only knows about the hero thing because he recognized the signs from his stint as a hero and was like "hey babe, just so you know, i know that you do this and i did it once too so don't worry about hiding it. You dont have to tell me who, i wont ask and wont go looking but you dont gotta make excuses for injuries or whatever, okay?" And tim. Tim did not know how to handle that but over time he trusts danny and settled into it and at this point? The "meet the extended family" point? He just straight up forgot he never told danny which hero he is.

So danny invites him to meet his extended family (wants emotional support for the christmas Hollidays) and tim is like "yeah okay, this will be fun".

Needless to say. Tim is very confused when Ras rolls up in a lowkey sedan with a bunch of gifts and just. Generally. Is very nice?

Tim: Babe you know your grandpa tried to possess my brother, right? And stole my spleen? And runs an international organization of assassins? And is like. A verifiable supervillian?

Danny: huh.

Danny: yeah that tracks.

Danny: WAIT YOU'RE RED ROBIN?

It is actually a pretty good christmas all things considered. Ras sees Tim is Danny's bf and is just. So smug.

Tim: okay but why aren't you jealous? Upset? This is weird.

Ras: why would I be upset? I knew this family would be useful someday and look! My grandson has already succeeded in bringing you into the family!

Alternatively, danny still has no idea about red robin and ras being his supervillian nemesis and the above exchange happens followed immediately by

Danny: I'm glad you approve of him, Grandpa! He's a good one. :D

Ras just fuckin smiles smugly at tim cause he knows Tim adores Danny and won't be leaving him but also is now deeply conflicted about how to react to this.

Alternatively Alternatively, tim and ras just sneak around getting pettier and pettier with their pranks where no one else notices. Like. Looney Tunes level shit. Fistfighting in the living room but when danny comes in they are chatting politely. The moment he leaves they are strangling each other again.

Danny, oblivious to the fistfight behind him causing so much damage: I'm so glad my grandpa and boyfriend like each other! :D

Okay but I just? Made myself snort?

Imagine~☆ Grandma Fenton. Young, hot, built like a tank.

She meets a SUAVE and well muscled man of mystery. With a CAPE! Fabulous facial hair. There are ninjas. She was hunting the Supernatural. Very, very badly.

But still! That Fenton STRENGTH. That smile! That "just back handed an assassin through a wall"! Mystery man is... intrigued ™.

They do unspeakable things to each other hot young nuible bodies against every surface they can find. There are explosions and sword fights. She has a BLAST! It was a great trip.

Prooooobably should have gotten more then his name though!

Maybe used protection!

WHOOPS ™!

Ah well, she always DID want kids! A jack is a wonderful kiddo! Strong as an ox! Bit obsessive, but what Fenton ISNT?

She goes about her merry way. Things to do! Monsters to HUNT! Crocodiles to WRESTLE! Feeling like... she's... forgetting? Something? But what could it BE?

It's only after YEARS, as she's retired, down a leg (damn Sasquatch) and two fingers, that she squints at some hoity toity shin-dig on the TV... and... huh.....

You know? That lil Wayne kid reminds her of someone. It's... it's on the tip of her to- OH FUCK! *slams down the morning paper* she forgot to tell her sprogs DAD!

Shit! He didn't know he got her preggers!!!

Which? Is how Ra's AL Ghul? Get a VERY sheepish call from that lion of a woman he had... relations *unholy smirk that makes SO MANY people around him uncomfortable* with, informing him? He not ONLY has a son.

But a grandson and granddaughter.

Neither fit to inherent, obviously. But his blood has run true. His son married the most powerful woman he could locate. Because studying the borders between life and death. And can snap lesser men in half like a twig. Grandchildren? Much of the same.

So obviously, he shall become... Supportive. A loving grandfather.

Why? Because he has no standards for them! They are but a pleasant suprise. The bloodline MIGHT be useful. Eventually. But for now? Charm champaign.

EVERYBODY loves Grandpapa Ra's, after all. :)

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @the-witchhunter

[6okuto]

THEIR REACTION TO YOU DRESSING UP

gn!reader | suggestive, mild swearing.

matsukawa, atsumu, hinata, kuroo, suna, osamu, sakusa, iwaizumi, tsukishima

MATSUKAWA’s sprawled on the couch as he waits for you to show him the new outfit you bought. you had excitedly texted him before coming home, hiding the contents of your bag as you ran to change. it’s been a few minutes when he teasingly calls out, “you okay in there, babe? need help?” “no, actually i don’t, issei,” you reply, walking in. issei does a double take, mouth dropping a little. “goddamn.” the speed he gets up is almost comical. you do a slow turn, smoothing out the fabric that seems to hug you in the most perfect way. “i don’t know when i’m gonna wear this, but it’s really nice, right?” “really fuckin' nice,” he agrees, grinning. “respectfully and in love with you, i humbly ask, do you want to kiss and or make out with me right now?”

ATSUMU freezes when you walk into the bedroom. you do a quick spin and smile. “what do you think?” his eyes are wide, gaze fixated on you. “am i dead? are you an angel here to take me away?” he finally asks. you snort and make your way over, reaching to fix the collar of his shirt. “i’m gonna take that as a ‘you look good, babe,’ then.” “just good? baby, i think i’m sweating. maybe cryin’ a little,” he continues, half-joking. “‘tsumu—” atsumu shakes his head. “uh-uh, don’t say my name, i might explode.” you laugh at your boyfriend, face warm from his praise; his own flustered state keeps him from noticing yours. he shakes his head again, as if to get out of a haze. “you know what, let’s go. yeah, let’s go now before i keep you all t’myself. we’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

HINATA spits out his drink and chokes a little. “oh my–oh my, god, sorry, i—” “shoyo?” you speed over, concerned but also trying not to laugh. “are you okay?” “huh? yeah? i’m so fine,” he says unconvincingly. his face is flushed when he looks at you, whether from the choking, embarrassment, or your outfit, you’re not too sure. then, as if he wasn’t choking a few seconds earlier, he starts showering you in compliments. “anyways, you look great, babe. like, like it really screams 'you,' you know? i bet everyone’s gonna be jealous of me.” “oh really? of you?” shoyo tilts his head, as if you asked a silly question. “well, yeah? 'cause you look this good and i get to date you.”

KUROO almost drops his keys walking through the front door. “tetsu, you’re back early.” “god, please don’t tell me i forgot about a super important event tonight.” he sounds both panicked and in awe, mind in shambles at the sight of you. you open your mouth to speak, but tetsuro's faster. “wait, don’t tell me,”—he paces toward you—“before i die, i want you to know you look incredible, and i’ll gladly be your poorly-dressed accessory for the night.” there’s a joking strain to his voice, and he sniffs before pressing his cheek to your head. “tetsu.” you laugh and pat his back. “there’s nothing happening, i just bought a new outfit and wanted to try it on.” he lets out a relieved noise between a sigh and groan then moves to look at you, now able to fully appreciate the sight. “thank god. i’m going to count that as the second win of the night then, 'cause seriously, you look so good right now.”

SUNA snakes his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “hi, babe.” “rin! when did you get here?” “a couple of minutes ago. beelined for you after ‘tsumu shoved a drink in my hand.” you laugh and he smiles before finally registering what you’re wearing. he takes a sip from his drink at the same time his eyes scan over the new look. “this what you bought on saturday?” “hm? yeah, it’s really nice, right?” rin looks between you and his drink. “if i didn’t have manners, i would’ve thrown this glass and kissed you.” amused, you jokingly hit his stomach. “why can’t you compliment me like a normal person?” rin takes no offense, instead maneuvering so he can hold his drink while wrapping his other arm around you. he squeezes you, grinning when you yelp. “‘one, cause you look hot, and two, where’s the fun in that?”

OSAMU lets out a low whistle as you walk into the living room, eyes scanning you up and down. he gets up from the couch, and places his hands on your hips. “y’sure you have to go out tonight?” “'samu.” he laughs at your pointed look and puts his hands up in surrender. “i’m kidding, hon. you look stunning, though.” rolling your eyes, you thank him. “c’mon, i’m gonna be late if we don’t go now.” you walk to the door, but osamu thinks back to the weather forecast for the evening. “you aren’t bringin’ a jacket?” “hm? nah, we’re gonna be inside.” putting on your shoes, you respond without looking, and are surprised by the weight that suddenly covers your shoulders. you know osamu's favourite jacket from anywhere, and you let him shift it to cover you. he leans over to kiss your temple and mumbles in your ear, “now you’ll be warm and everyone will remember we’re dating.”

SAKUSA’s fingers slip from his cuff button again, earning a huff and frown from him. “‘omi, are you ready?” “yeah, can you just help me w—” he turns to the sound of your voice and pauses. the new outfit you told him about makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost forgets about his own suit predicament. “with what? oh, the button?” you make your way over to help, kiyoomi staring the entire time. “there ya go.” “you look incredible,” is the first thing he says instead of thank you. it catches you off-guard, “huh? oh. i—thank you. you look very handsome.” there’s a beat of silence as kiyomi weighs the pros and cons of going out or staying home. you have to stop yourself from laughing when he asks with a straight face, “completely related, am i allowed to be mean if anyone tries to flirt with you?”

IWAIZUMI looks up when he hears the changing room door open. you’re fixing the waist of your outfit, and don’t notice the way his eyes widen. he whispers under his breath, “holy fuck.” “haji, do you think it’s too much for the dinner? i know it’s ‘just your old teammates’ but, like, i want to look good,” you explain. his gaze softens and he clears his throat before standing. “no, it’s perfect. you look…you look perfect.” you smile at him and it’s all he can do to stop himself from covering his face and groaning. “oikawa’s going to say something about you looking better than me, and i won’t even be able to disagree.” the sound of your laughter fills the air and hajime huffs a laugh at himself. “well, we better get something just as good for you then.”

TSUKISHIMA’s not great with compliments, and he always wants to kick himself in the ass for it when it comes to you. you look at him standing behind you in the mirror. “i think this is the one. what do you think, kei?” biting his lip, he looks to the side and clears his throat. “it looks good.” he doesn’t have to look to feel you staring at him. “you sure? you don’t think it’s missing something?” kei takes a second to try thinking of a response, then he glances at your wary expression and lets out a breath. “no, i promise. you look great, and this is the best thing you could have chosen.” you smile at yourself, and his gaze softens a fraction before he’s back to being tsukishima—“you ready? because we’re going to be late if we keep standing here, and the group chat’s about to blow up our phones.”

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

[tom-whore-dleston]

Clearly he doesn’t want us to be over with the Oscars look 😩

So thot squad sent me this pic and, of course, it got me thinking...

In a Robe (Drip, Drip)

Genre: smut (lemon) with a lil fluff

Warnings: more pwp, sex on the table, morning/afternoon sex, spitting, handjob, sex while on the phone, Simu's BDE going 📈📈, creampie, Simu being a loving sugar daddy

Summary: If you thought you got a kick out of seeing Simu in his Versace robe, wait until he sees you in it. Pt. 2 of Versace on the Floor

Word Count: 1.3k

Beta Read: N/A

Notes: I know irl Simu had to haul ass back to Barbieland immediately after the Oscars bc baby always grindin his Simussy off. But I say fuck that noise bc our poor exhausted baby boy deserves a day off to regenerate by sleeping and fucking you even more lol. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed what you read 😊 Banners by @maysdigitalarts and dividers by @firefly-graphics

It's the morning after the Oscars (or afternoon because it's a given you and Simu fucked til the sun came up hehe). Simu was sound asleep and you had just woken up due to the soreness from last night's antics. Spotting the custom designed Versace robe sprawled out on a chair, you snuck away from Simu's tight embrace to engulf your naked body in the robe. You laughed at how it basically looked like a dress on you.

You tiptoed out of the room to fetch a glass of water. Problem was, you got lost in the luxury of the suite and forgot where they kept the glasses. Saying fuck it, you grabbed the wine glass with your lipstick stain from the coffee table to pour yourself some water. As you chugged the water like your life depended on it, Simu trailed out of the bedroom in just his boxers. He leaned against the doorframe with a smug look on his face.

"If I had known you would look so cute in my robe, I would've told Donatella to make you a personalized one," he commented, sizing you up. You turned towards his direction, almost letting the glass slip from your fingers at the sight of his delicious happy trail.

"Aww, you think I'm cute?" you questioned, batting your eyelashes and folding your hands in front of you. Simu grinned, walking towards you.

"More than that, baby," he responded, placing his hands on your hips. "You are absolutely beautiful!" He leaned in so his lips ever so slightly brushed against yours. "I bet you would look so beautiful in it while I fuck you over this table."

With that, Simu hoisted you up and slammed you on the dining table. It didn't take long for his mouth to smash onto yours, hands flying everywhere. He massaged your boobs through the robe, making you moan into his mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"I want you, Daddy." You reached in between you and Simu to palm him through his boxers. He muttered a faint fuck, slightly tossing his head back.

"Go ahead, baby. Pull out Daddy's cock and make me nice and hard for that pretty pussy." You complied, stroking him until he was satisfied. He spat onto your pussy, rubbing the saliva all over with his cock. When Simu finally thrusted himself inside you, he didn't give you time to adjust before he was pounding into you like a madman.

"Fuck, you're so sexy getting fucked in my robe, honey!" Simu grunted, throwing one leg over his shoulder and spreading the other one to the side. "Love the way your pussy grips me. Feels so fucking good." His thumb swirled over your clit, pushing you closer to your edge.

All that is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. It just so happened to be Simu's phone that was hiding in one of the robe pockets. You cursed in frustration, feeling yourself getting ripped from that blissful sensation as your boyfriend snatched the phone from the pocket. His mouth quirked into a devious grin upon reading the caller ID. He lifted a finger to his lips, indicating you to be quiet before answering the call.

"Donatella Versace!" Simu cheerfully exclaimed. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He resumed to fucking you while the famous designer chatted away from the other side of the phone. You sighed louder than you wanted to, unsure of whether it was because his strokes were slow but deep or the fact that he was still railing you while on the phone. His large hand immediately clasped over yours and he started thrusting deeper than he already was.

"Wow! Really? That's amazing!" His voice rose and eyes widened with excitement. You were too stimulated by his throbbing cock to wonder why he was so giddy all of a sudden. Rolling your eyes to the back of your head, you hummed into his hand as the tip grazed your G-spot.

"Thank you again! I know she's gonna love it."

Whump! Whump!

"Alrighty, buh-bye!" Simu hung up and tossed his phone behind him. He pinned your hips to the table, pistoning in and out of you at an animalistic speed. You arched your back off the surface, allowing your cries to freely fall from your lips.

"Oh my god, Daddyyyy!" You gripped his wrists for support, digging your nails into his skin. "Keep fucking me like that. You're gonna make me cum." Simu trailed butterfly kisses down your leg that draped over his shoulder.

"Yes, honey. Take my cock just like that. Wanna see you play with that pussy for me."

Your hand flew to your swollen bud to violently rub circles around it. Simu's eyebrows knitted together as his pumps became sporadic and desperate. The way he whined your name brought you right to the edge. He pushed himself all the way in until his balls tapped your ass, making you both wail in pleasure as you were finally met with that sweet euphoria. He painted your walls with his warm cum as he stooped down to lazily French kiss you. A few moments later, Simu gently pulled out of you, helping you to your feet.

"Go get ready, honey baby. Ms. Versace will be over in a few minutes and we wanna look presentable, yeah?" Before you could ask any questions, Simu dragged you to the bedroom.

"No time for questions. I'll tell you about it later, okay?"

Half an hour later, you and Simu were now dressed in the casual clothing you packed. You laid your head in his lap as he combed your hair with his fingers.

"So, are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

A knock sounded on the door before Simu had the chance to answer. You both jumped up to welcome Madame Versace at the door.

"Good to see you both, again!" She greeted, giving you both kisses on the cheek. Donatella gave you a once over before holding your hands in a motherly way.

"You, my darling, are so beautiful!" Your cheeks warmed up as you bashfully thanked her. Her assistant walked in holding a gift box with the Versace labeled across it. She took the box from her assistant and handed it to you.

"Oh, Ms. Versace, you sh-"

"Actually, Simu was the one who requested this for you." You looked over at Simu in confusion. He simply nodded and smiled, waiting for you to open the box. As you did, your face dropped in shock as you pulled out a robe that was almost identical to the one Simu had. Tears welled up in your eyes when you saw your name stitched into the back of the robe.

"Oh my god! I-I'm speechless!" To say you were overwhelmed with emotion would have been an understatement.

You turned to Simu, "Wait, earlier, you said-"

"While you were getting ready for the Oscars, Simu made it imperative that I make a robe for you," Donatella responded. "Something about how cute you would look in it and you both would be a power couple. I couldn't possibly say no to my favorite superhero." Her comment made Simu giggle. "Now enough chatting, try it on! I must see my power couple in action."

You threw the robe over your clothes as Simu did the same. He bit his lip as he scanned you with his eyes. Before you knew it, you were both having an impromptu photoshoot in your suite while wearing your matching robes.

While posing for a picture, Simu leaned into your ear. "I was right, you do look beautiful in this robe. But I'm more interested in taking it off of you after our guests leave."

As much of a teasing little shit Simu was, you were extremely fortunate to have landed someone who was so in love with you and would do anything for your happiness.

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Simu Liu Masterlist | Honey Baby AU

[angeli-marco-writes]

Andy Barber - Fight/F-ck

A/N & WC - Defending Jacob is a sensational novel, and I think the adaptation is good also. Here’s an homage to Chris’ Andrew Barber. I wrote this in a day, I was on a roll. I do not own the characters. 2.9k

Warnings - swearing, bad parenting, toxic relationship, divorce, mentions of pregnancy, breast reduction, vasectomy and birth control; smut: unprotected sex, daddy kink, spit kink. 18+

Summary - Since the divorce with Andy, you’ve been stuck in a vicious cycle whenever you see him, but it’s one you can’t avoid. Fight or fuck? Usually both, but today’s hook up may go awry since your son’s home.

HE WAS AN AWFUL BOYFRIEND, a terrible husband, and an even worse person to be around.

So why is he balls deep inside me? And why do I love it so much?

Is it that smouldering look in his eyes when he grows lustful? Or maybe the gruffness that overtakes his voice when he gets pissed off? Or, worst of all. And heaven forbid it be this driving force, how wonderful a father he is to our shared son? Watching him and Jake interact always melts my heart and softens the vulnerable part of me that hardens against Andy in his absence.

Whatever the reason may be, I know I’ll regret letting it get to me once again when the sun comes up, and there’s no darkness, nothing to sheathe my mistake, or hide it from my son.

Not even a year since the hellish divorce we endured, and he’s been back inside me, fucking me like an animal countless times, and always for hate sex, usually following a blow up row. We try to keep it when Jake’s not home, but the issue is that doesn’t usually happen when Andy comes over. He comes to see his son, pick him up or drop him off, deliver something he forgot or even pay him a visit, hence why Andy’s never stayed the night. Jake’s what’s keeping us together: how ironic, since he’s the reason we split in the first place, to take him away from all the fighting.

I hate how insatiable I am around Andy, too much, and even more-so since he’s not here at my beckon call. Even during all the years we were married, the sex was never this good, not since the very start.

“Hey,” Andy whisper-shouts, careful not to alert or disturb Jacob. He smacks my cheek, “look at me when I fuck you.”

“Sorry Daddy,” I croon.

He rolls his half-hooded eyes, then rolls his strong hips on a particularly harsh buck of his skilful pelvis that grinds his trimmed curls right up against my engorged clit in the most delectable way, pleasure rolling throughout me in waves, my fingertips sparking with pleasure, gravitating to his hair. I pull, and revel in the guttural groan I elicit from him.

“Mouth, open,” he grits.

His brows furrow, almost in pain, anguish, perhaps in concentration or the weaning of his immense strength now he’s forty. That’s on him, though. I gave him the choice to fuck me anywhere in the house, and he chose the hallway wall.

I open my mouth, dabbing my lips with my tongue before sticking it out, knowing what he wants, only to snap it shut when the tip of his member grazes my g-spot, and I begin to see stars.

“Fuckin’ hell, now I know why we got a divorce. Can’t do a damn thing I ask. Mouth, open, now.”

I ensure to do a better job this time, looking into his darkening cerulean eyes hidden by thick lashes. I loosen my jaw and drop it as far as it’ll go—pretty far, both Andrew and I know from experience—sticking my tongue out all the way as well, and I’m not disappointed when he takes a punishing hold on my face, yanking at my chin to angle his hot mouth over mine, spitting directly onto my tongue. I salivate at the sensation of that alone.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I tell him once I’ve swallowed, opening my mouth in the same wide manner again to prove what a Good Little Wife I’ve been.

“Good Princess.”

My heart flutters, my mind going dizzy, the knot in the pit of my stomach winding tighter. He hasn’t called me that for at least a decade.

Andy hikes my leg higher up around his hip, his giant, calloused hand gripping the supple flesh of my thigh with a bruising hold as he settles me high above him, pinned, caged between him and the wall. That’s when my shirt and bra disappear in one fell swoop. He impales me on his dick without another thought, thrusting his hips in little gyrations that match the spill of his grunts and that allow him to catch every single sweet spot inside me he learnt so well all those years ago. I can taste the bitter, metallic tang of blood on my tongue, biting down on it to suppress an animalistic moan as he fucks into me mercilessly.

“Andy…”

His lips seal around my one pert nipple, while the rough pads of his skilled fingers toy with the other. His carefully trimmed beard and moustache tickle my breasts, unused to such stimulation.

He hasn’t much paid attention to my boobs since before I had Jacob, much preferring a smaller chest on my frame, rather than what blossomed following my pregnancy and months of breastfeeding. In typical male fashion, he suggested a breast reduction: I said no. As it turns out, once again, all we needed to reach a mutually beneficial agreement was a fucking divorce. We could’ve thought of this years ago when our once lively sex life took a nose dive, and the sad arguments began, rather than the sexy, fiery ones—no matter how toxic that makes our relationship. I’m getting the latter once again now, and plenty of them: better late than never.

While I’m lost in my head again, Andy switches his attentions, prompting me to dig my nails into his shoulders for purchase. I meet his thrusts as I grind down, undulating my hips sensually in a figure of eight as his thick cock rubs everywhere within me I need him to, my walls involuntary clenching around him. He groans lowly, the reverberations of such rippling through me in a new wash of pleasure. Keeping my eyes open, I let my head fall back against the plain drywall, carefully between family portraits and artwork we once bought together. His eyes are wide open now, mad with pleasure.

“C’mon, Daddy’s so close, keep riding me like that…”

I do, fucking him senselessly the way he has been me, my hips moving rapidly of their own volition, so willingly in harmony with his. The coil in my belly is building in pleasure.

“Andy— Daddy,” I choke out.

“Come for me, wanna feel that pussy clench around my cock, Princess.”

The pad of his thumb presses to my pearl, the tip of his tongue tracing my puckered bud, the variety of multiple sensations enough to tip me over that heavenly edge.

My body spasms against him, every recollection from our intimacies coming flooding back to me in an erotic slideshow of flashbacks. My clit throbs, my cavern tensing unapologetically around Andy, milking his dick the way he wanted and coaxing him to reach his own climax, to experience the memories I am. It’s a magical feeling I can’t ever imagine being able to fabricate, and my orgasm, with my stomach all in a flutter and my chest heaving for breath, is only elongated once Andy spills and empties himself inside me. He moans, his mouth open and hot on my clammy skin, against my collarbone, briefly nibbling there, perhaps subconsciously, as he pants and shifts his knees.

I briefly consider the chances of another pregnancy from these… unprotected rendezvous'. After Jake, we decided together not to have any more children, not with how… typically infantile he was around day-care, the reports we received. So, to save me from surgery or a lifetime of birth control, he did the most decent thing he did throughout all our years of marriage, and got a vasectomy. Perhaps he had it reversed in our time apart.

14 years would be a big age gap, especially for Jake. Just the possibility of being pregnant again has my mind in a whirlwind. Would I keep it? Would Andy want to keep it? Would we get back together to raise another child? Or would we fuck it up the way we did with Jake?

Neither myself or Andy speak while we bask in the afterglow of whatever the hell that was, the mind blowing sex, a window to what could’ve been; instead, we simply feel one another for what may or may not be the last time, the beat of his heart rapid against mine. It’s odd to think that the ring-less left hand currently gripping my thigh was once held in mine, in front of all our family and friends, as I slid a platinum band over his knuckles and onto his third finger; perhaps even stranger for me to think that my hand—now somehow tangled in his silky, dark brown hair—once held both a glistening engagement ring and a matching platinum wedding band as symbols of our love, only for it to expire. I still have them, of course I do, my stupid base sensitivity, on a necklace that I wear every single day (removed when Andy comes around, just to save face), or at least every day until I get the guts to sell them.

That day will never come if we keep ending up this way, with Andy fucking me after every damn fight we have.

“Y/n, gotta pull out,” he mumbles, but I barely hear the end of his sentence over a dangerously loud clatter of noise coming from upstairs. Coming from Jacob’s room.

We glance at one another with a strange dread, and I see Andy’s eyes fill with a terror only a father can have at the thought his son may be in danger: a primal protectiveness I share to some extent, as Jacob’s mother.

Andy’s pulling out of me in a moment, but I barely have a second to think about the emptiness—both literally and metaphorically—that he leaves behind as I throw my clothes on and try to hide any glaring marks of our hate-fucking. In amidst the flurry of clothes and gut feeling of stomach causing my mind to scramble like eggs, and my stomach to growl for them, I don’t even consider that my blouse may be buttoned incorrectly, or that my lipstick may be smudged, merely worrying that I’m dressed to a semi-respectable degree when I burst into Jacob’s room, hot on Andy’s heels, still combing my fingers through my hair in a vain attempt to make me semi-respectable.

We’re both panting from our myriad of exercise by the time we get inside, standing an admittedly suspicious distance apart with my hands clasped tightly at my front, and Andy’s muscular arms forced tight around his firm chest.

I scour the room for any sign of danger or damage, then Jake for any indication of injury or harm, but there’s nothing. Only the din of video game noises I’ve become accustomed to over the past five years since we got him his first Xbox.

“Jake? E— everything okay, pal?” Andy asks.

He shrugs grumpily the way teenagers do, his hoodie shifting off his bony shoulder, “Yeah. Why?”

“There was a giant crash, kid; we thought you were hurt,” I reply, arching my brow as I scrutinise my son.

His bedroom is an absolute state. Mugs he swears he’ll bring down, a tangle of wires, his bed unmade, clothes everywhere, posters pasted all over the walls… Andy’s far more lenient than I am, hence why Jacob fell into such slobbish habits.

“Oh, that,” he actually deigns to look away from his TV screen, his thumbs momentarily halting their work on his gaming remote. “You were making too much noise, I just wanted you to shut up.”

Typical teenage logic.

“Sorry, bud—” Andy starts.

But I begin at the same time, “We weren’t making any noise more than the usual, Jacob. Please don’t be insolent.”

And in a typically motherly fashion, I think I’m right, because though Andy and I may not be careful in other ways, we take every noise-related precaution we can in the heat of the moment. So why does Andy immediately begin confessing? He’s the lawyer, for crying out loud. What a stupid, honest man. Jake’s not thick, and ever the miniature Andy, he rolls his eyes the way his dad does, the way that never fails to piss me off.

“Please. Everyone knows you’re fucking.”

“Jacob!” we exclaim at once, astounded at his language, at his audacity… and at the truth.

He shrugs so damn nonchalantly, and actually turns his game off, standing to open a can of soda on his sideboard while I stand, back against his wall, sick to my stomach and too stunned to even shift my feet.

“They know because I told them.” I’m relatively secretive: that misguided nature in his moral compass is all on Andy. I glare at him, daggers in my gaze. “You're not very secretive, though. Every time you do it I’m in the house and it’s gross. Either stay divorced or get back together.”

Dumbstruck, Andy and I stare at one another, feeling another fight brewing. How does the kid carry the parts of the both of us that we loathe so much, that we’re so similar in and could really do without right the fuck now? Does he really think it's that black and white? God he truly is a lawyer's son. But like me, he doesn’t mince words, and is ambiguous with his statements, opposing his fathers lawyer nature. It’s really not a great combination. But it makes Jacob a damn smart kid. Fuck.

“Go fight or fuck elsewhere, I’m trying to play a game?”

Whenever we see each other, even after the divorce, and in all fairness, while it was still going through, one of those two things happened… often both, and they tended to cause each other in a vicious cycle of toxicity and damn good sex. Fight or fuck. Why does Jake have to be the one to hit us with the realising blow?

My eyes fix on some Spider-Man pop art hanging above his shelves, unable to look at myself, my ex-husband, or my son. My mouth feels… dry, and I’m so overwhelmed with thirst that I barely have the concentration or confidence to look Jake in the eye as he ushers us both out his room and slams the door behind him.

Except that thirst disappears and fizzles into a far more sinister need once Andy’s crystal blue eyes—rimmed with a navy that threatens, but not enough to scare—bore into mine as he stares down at me. With a tender, shaking hand, he tilts my chin up, curls an errant lock of hair behind my ear, and plants his pretty lips firmly on mine.

The sudden contact draws a gasp from my mouth, one he greedily swallows, the pressure of his embrace increasing, his tongue beginning to trace my lower lip. I grant him eager entry, avidly pressing my chest against his, pulling him closer by fisting the material of his shirt. I’m on my tiptoes, letting my tongue sweep his mouth, getting drunk on the heady feeling.

I hadn’t even realised how much I’d missed Andy’s kisses: he always was such a good kisser, causing countless emotions to flow throughout me all at once, an indescribable cocktail. I haven’t felt it in so long. The main thing he’s been doing in these hook-ups since the divorce (though I must concede it’s kind of a mutual agreement) is no kisses, even during sex, so we wouldn’t taste one another and rediscover the intimacy that made us catch feelings and fall head first the way we did all those years ago. The feelings we feared never really went away, not for me at least, and judging by the passion of this kiss, not for Andy either. He barely kissed me before the divorce, though, if at all during the end of our marriage: I can’t quite remember when our last kiss was. So this means something special.

I can’t quite work it out, but I’m so lost in the hot, needy press of his talented mouth on mine and the indescribable minty taste that’s so typically and indescribably Andy, that I just don’t care. And I give in. And I let him handle me the way he always has.

I wind my arms around his neck, my one hand toying with the hair at the base of his neck, but my other hand trails back down his chest, and around his waist, sliding down the centre of his spine until I’m able to tuck my hand into his back pocket, pulling him closer by his peachy ass. Except, I don’t get that far, not when I feel something small, cold and round in there. My heart stops, and I stop kissing him, pulling my lips away from his and instead tilting my forehead against his. I pluck it out: his wedding band, as good as new, holding it in my palm.

“y/n,” he husks, his hands falling to my hips, “I can explain.”

“Shh, you don’t need to.”

Slipping my spare hand into his, feeling the heat and anxious clamminess there, I clutch him with all my strength, and lead him into the bedroom we used to share. Other than his clothes being gone, I’ve changed nothing about our room. He realises that, I know, as I hear his breath hitch, eyes flitting everywhere. I let go of him, gravitating to my dresser, where I pick up the necklace, unclasping it and slipping my own rings off it, sliding them onto my ring finger. He smiles at me when I turn back to him, his silver wedding band glinting in the light, balanced in the centre of my palm. He gives me his hand expectantly, his smile broadening when he sees my own rings as I replace his wedding ring. Before I can withdraw, he knots his fingers with mine, and lets them just stay that way.

We can choose another time, but for now, fighting and fucking aside, just being here with him, this feels right.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 7/?

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N Any Name (your best friend’s name), (Name) - your ex’s name !genderneutral (Don’t use a DC character! Y/N hasn’t dated any other DC character!) :)

3.5k words, my god. And they’ve still only known each other for 4 days and we’re on part 7. I do not know how to finish this.

Lol, Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, Heated moments, There is French in this one, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Falling asleep in Jason’s arms after that escapade the two of them pulled the night before was something magical to say the least. Of course, they only got like 5 hours of sleep before they had to wake up and get out, at risk of Y/N being caught in the building, although the thrill of it excited the both of them deeply, but that’s obvious. They liked breaking the rules already.

Riding back home seemed a lot less like a journey to her this time, she just wanted to spend more time with Jason, but he had work and she didn’t want to hang out at Wayne Enterprises. She’d probably go to the library today, she didn’t know exactly what she’d do today, but she always thought that was the most exciting thing ever. “I don’t know what I’m even going to do tomorrow,” one of her friends asked when she moved to Gotham, ‘How exciting!’ she answered.

That friend said the next day she ran through the streets of Metropolis with her arms outstretched like a kid, and she did it in Y/N’s honor. “I told you!” she said, “How exciting that sometimes you never know what you’re going to do tomorrow!”.

These thoughts swirled in her head as Jason drove her back home when, like clockwork, like it was out of a movie, he said,

“I have no idea what I’m even going to do today.”

She laughed, “I always say ‘How exciting!’ when someone says that to me.”

“Really?”

“One of my friends back home, when I gave her that advice, she then spent the next day running around the city with her arms outstretched in my honor, it was apparently one of the more fun things she’s ever done, so” she paused, “I really mean it. how exciting! The possibilities are endless, are they not?”

“Well, not really, I have work to do,” he frowned.

“So own it. Make the office your bitch. Take charge, take lead.”

“Why not?” he said in agreement.

“Why the fuck not.”

-------------------------------------------

Jason walked her to her door, “Won’t you be late?” she asked,

“Dad knows where I am, I don’t think I’ll have my ass handed to me.”

“You never know,” she laughed.

He laughed too and slightly pecked her lips. He wanted more, he was hungry for more out of that kiss, but work and life gets in the way of their relationship, and he really whined when he had to break away, but she laughed at it.

“Slow your roll Tiger, one day,” she mused.

“You say that like you don’t want more.”

“This isn’t about me,” she retorted, “So, shut up, respectfully.”

He laughed and kissed the back of her hand, “You have a thing for doing that, huh?” she joked.

“I literally don’t know how to answer that, I think I’m losing my touch with flirting,” he joked back.

“Okay, okay, you need to get going now.”

“Fine! You want to get rid of me so badly, I get it,” he joked and walked back to the car and she waved him off. She hated that time he left, a lot. She knew it was healthy to take a day’s break if they’ve been on 3 back-to-back dates, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

She opened her door and walked in, thinking A/N was asleep so she wouldn’t be barraged for her hair being a mess, but, boy oh boy, was this girl waiting for her to get home.

“What happened? Why’s your hair a mess? Oh my god, did you have sex?” she asked.

“No, but we kissed, will you take that as information while I shower or do you want all the details now?”

“You can shower, you can shower. I’m not that needy.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N joked and went to go shower.

And like she always did, she opened her phone and looked at the news before answering her friends,

Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd's Girlfriend’s Name Revealed!

She laughed, cause it wasn’t her name. She didn’t think he was seeing anyone else, and they used her picture, so she knew they just fucked it. She forwarded the article to Jason with the caption ‘ Fuckin’ idiots’ .

She then answered Artemis, who asked Did you two kiss? Dick’s up my ass about it ‘cause he knows we’re friends.

I want to take that out of context so badly. She joked with Artemis.

I knew this man had a terrible name that would come to haunt me, but did ‘ya kiss?

Yeah we did. Get Dick out of your ass, though, that’s weird, you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.

Shut up, you’re not funny.

I’m pretty funny.

You are but I’m not going to admit that, girl.

And one of her old friends had texted her, it was someone who Y/N had seen off and on the past few years, they were polite, but she didn’t exactly want to speak to her ex.

Hey.

(Name)? What do you want?

Saw you in the news with the rich boy, guess we’re over?

We have been over for like 5 months, my guy. 

Bitch.

Okay!

People from her hometown were noticing her in the articles and recognizing her. Some would think this is the coolest thing that someone they loved met a nice boy, the money a bonus, some would give her the reaction her ex did, but she knew she was days, hours, maybe minutes away from her parents finding out about her love affair with Jason.  

She shuddered at the thought, she loved her parents, a lot, but something told her that maybe they wouldn’t did Jason to be like she found him. She also knew she could be overthinking it entirely and they’d like the Criminal Psych Major that she knew all-too-well.

But overthinking was fun, apparently. And she couldn’t stop thinking the worst of so much.

------------------------------------------------

When she got changed and just threw on whatever the fuck she saw, she went out to go talk to A/N.

“Hey, nerd. I’m done,” Y/N said.

“Nerd? You’re the one dating the bookworm and  you’re in criminal psychology,” she joked.

“Ha, ha. So, how are things with your lover? Have you secured him yet or are you just doing your own thing still?”

“Still just doing our own thing, don’t really have the time to date while getting my degree and working.”

“I mean, if it works for you I can’t throw judgment.”

“What about Jason? How’re things with you two?”

“You ever seen the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom before?”

“In pictures, why- Don’t tell me he took you there you lucky bitch?!”

“Then I just wont tell you,” she laughed.

“The Ballroom? Oh my god, that’s crazy, he's really pulling out all the stops to make you smile, huh?”

“I would do the same if I had more to offer, but I have barely anything since I bought that place in the dance competition across the country,” she said.

Y/N had bought a place in this competition before she met Jason, and she was heading to it on Saturday, in two days, and she actually had practiced the routine during downtime between her and Jason. She hadn’t exactly told Jason about this, and Jason had asked why she looked strained and like her muscles hurt, but that just never seemed like something you share with your casual partner, to her. She never seemed like her casual competitions were worth anything. A/N had begged to differ since Y/N had met her.

A/N said that Y/N had talent, that she could go somewhere, Y/N saw it as an extra circular that didn’t affect her much. She wasn’t the type of brag, and all her trophies were back home with her parents, anyway.

“Have you told him about your,” insert A/N’s heavy sarcasm, “’Casual’  competitions, yet?”

Idk what the hell happened with that line ya love to see it

“I’ll send him a quick text about it, I guess,” she sighed and sent just a quick, Hey, can’t have a date on Saturday-Sunday, forgot to tell you but I’m going to Cali for a quick dance competition, lol. My bad, shoulda said something.

“Why are you like this, be proud of your accomplishments, dammnit!”

“It’s a casual competition!”

“And you’re talented! I’m this close to just showing him videos of you going at it,” she said, exasperated.

“He already knows, we danced in the Ballroom.”

“Oh my lord,” she laughed, “You’re an enigma, if I had your amount of trophies I wouldn’t be hiding it.”

“Im’ not hiding it! It just kind of never came up.”

And he texted back, Oh damn, are you at least going to kill it? You better, I want to show the live broadcast to my family and brag.

She laughed, “See!”, she exclaimed, showing A/N the texts, “He doesn’t care like you do, nerd.”

A/N laughed, “Sure he doesn’t. Do you want to go to lunch, by the way? I’m bored off of my ass.”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“Go get dressed then, and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay okay, meet up in 10?”

“Yes ma’am.”

And off they went.

---------------------------

Y/N texted back Jason for a quick minute before getting dressed, Of course I’m going to kill it, my notes aren’t a representation of my dancing skills.

Well, I hope you win something. And text me. But mainly win something.

Of course I’ll text you, Jay. It gets boring at competitions.

You should go to a Wayne Gala then, god damn, those fuckin bastards are the most boring events this side of America.

Well maybe you’ll invite me one day.

I’ll probably have to if you show up on National TV. The press will finally know your name.

I hope I’m not on National TV then. Fuck the press.

Fuck the press indeed.

Since Y/N didn’t feel the need or want to dress up, she didn’t. Quick shirt and jeans and she was out the door. Sometimes she would dress up for lunch dates with her friends, just because she was bored as fuck and dressing up was fun, but she just didn’t want to do it today. Combat boots, jeans and a shirt were enough most days. You don’t have to be a model just because the press knows your face, she thought, you don’t.

“Who’s driving?” A/N asked.

“I can if you want. I don’t mind,” Y/N said as they walked to the beat up car they loved so much. It was nothing compared to the Porsche she had been in the night before, but it was still running, and you don’t fix something that ain’t broke.

“Maybe your boyfriend will buy you a new car,” A/N joked.

“If anything, he’d buy me a new computer, since mine is getting mailed to me and you’re going to love hearing the sounds that bitch makes,” she retorted.

“Is it bad?”

“Terrible. My sister called it a screaming electronic goat once,” she laughed, “I hate that fucking thing. But if it ain’t broke-”

“Don’t fix it, I know.”

“Exactly.”

--------------------------------------------------

For some reason, they decided in the car to go to McDonald's, because hey, it’s not like Y/N is on a  dance diet or anything. She wasn’t, because she didn’t want to starve herself for the sake of winning a competition. That was even her thought process as she was younger and more vulnerable to her teachers, she always told them she’d never do that. Years later, she still stuck to that mindset.

They got out of the car and like fucking clockwork, the press was in her face.

“You! The girl with no name, Jason Todd’s girlfriend!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she whispered under her breath, “How do they always find me!”

“Tell us about yourself! Are you serious with Jason? How do you feel about his family? How-”

But then she had an idea,

“Quoi? Je parle pas l’Anglais? Qu’est-ce-que vous voulez?” she said, using her bilingual skills to her advantage.

“What? No I mean-”

“Pas de l’Anglais! Désolé mes amis!” and she ran off into the McDonald's with A/N.

“Did you just speak French to get them off your ass, you genius?”

“Spoke very broken French because I wasn’t thinking, but yeah, I did that.”

“I forget you’re multi-talented sometimes, you have a lot hidden under your belt and I try to treat you like a normal person but you’re far from it.”

“I appreciate you for trying, but I think with my new love affair, you aren’t going to get far with those attempts anymore, sorry,” she joked.

Jason texted her, Did you just speak French to avoid the press?

How do you know about that?

We were watching the news during a meeting and they said that you spoke French.

You got to do what you got to do to get by.

That is literally the most genius thing I’ve heard of anyone doing in so long. I think you’ve truly bamboozled them for a while and they might hop off of your back for a while.

You think so? ‘Cause I really hope that’s the case.

My siblings think it’s hilarious, and no one’s leaked that you are just joking with the press, so yeah, they might actually leave you alone.

Let’s fucking go. That is the news of the 21st century.

4 days of knowing each other and you’ve flipped off the press twice, outran them with me once, hid in the Wayne Enterprises Building with me and you’ve spoken French to bamboozle the press. That is impressive.

I feel like the press is going to hate me one day.

Probably. But they also hate most of us most days.

You should probably get back to work.

Yeah, talk to you soon.

She put her phone away and went to stand with A/N, who was waiting for their food.

“Talking to your lover?” she joked.

“When am I not doing that?”

“That’s valid.”

-----------------------------

Going on a lunch date with A/N made a little bit of the harassment just better. They both bonded over how they hated the press before her love affair with Jason, and how their opinions wouldn’t change much unless, knock on wood, one of them went missing. Y/N told her about all the cases where the press and the internet did so much to solve cases around the world, love or hate the press, they did do a lot for solving crime.

She also told A/N that Jason was related to Dr. Barry Allen and Clark Kent, two people the two of them knew well because of the news and the fact that A/N knew Y/N when she wanted to go into forensics and was reading Dr. Barry Allen’s work.

When her mother texted her.

Y/N? Is that you in the press running around with Jason Todd?

Yeah mum, why?

Are you two in a serious relationship?

No mum.

Then why are the vultures so obsessed with you, says your dad.

‘ Cause you two made a pretty girl and he’s high up in the world, I guess, I don’t know. I don’t really like the press.

I can tell. We’re not mad at you honey, but be careful. And your dad says when you two get serious he needs to take Jason fishing.

He doesn’t speak French, mum.

Dad says he’ll work on his English for you.

Well tell everyone I love them, mum.

She panicked a little bit, her parents were nice when they wanted to be, but they were strict, why wouldn’t they be. So this, while being a welcomed surprise. was still a little panicky.

“Your  parents find out?”

“Yeah, they seem chill with it though.”

“Bing in the press sucks when you’re trying to keep your love life out of your parents' eyes, huh?”

“You could say that again,” she joked.

“Being in the press sucks when you’re-”

“I didn’t mean literally!” they laughed.

--------------------------------

Back at Wayne Enterprises, Jason was betting bombarded by his colleges, friends and family about Y/N and how she was able to get around the press’ constant harassment without flaw. And also because Bruce had seen the two enter the building at around 12am the night before. So Jason was called into Bruce’s office that day.

“1, I know everyone is bombarding you, so you can hide out here, son, 2, you and Y/N didn’t have sex in your office right?”

“God no, dad. We just hid here because security is tight as fuck and unable to get past.”

“I saw you two kissing on the cams and heading into your office, Jay.”

“Okay, okay, but we didn't have sex and the intentions were there, dad!”

“Uh huh, pretty girl in your, my, car.”

“Dad, stop it,” he joked.

“Well, her little shenanigans with the press are very amusing, have you told her that?”

“I have.”

“She’s basically not afraid to tell them what we all think.”

“That’s what I said, dad.”

“Well, hold onto that one and don’t let her go.”

“Do you regret doing that with Talia?” Jason asked.

“God no, she’s insane. The son I got out of her antics is literally her spitting image, so if I need to be reminded of her I can just go talk to Damien for a couple minutes.”

“Dami’s a lot like you too, don’t act like his personality is just Talia, he acts like his dad in every aspect and you know that.”

“Lord help any woman or man that kid goes on to date, my god,” the two of them laughed. It was the small things with Bruce that made Jason happy to be a Wayne, even if he didn’t share the last name. Jason grew up on the streets and even before that, his mum and dad didn’t have a lot of money, so the amounts of money that Bruce could shower on him was a lot, but he was okay with just working for his money. And Bruce knew that.

He spent a lot of his workday in Bruce’s office, hiding from the rest of the office, and texting Will.

She knows about your kid.

Well, she’s a good kid. I’m glad you’re bragging about her, means I raised her right.

Shut up. I love that little girl and I’ve helped raise her, Will.

You’re used to my new name?

I changed your contact to Will when you changed your name, so I could remember that that’s your name now and not Roy. I’m hoping I remember it in person though. It would be awkward if I forgot my best friend’s name.

It would be funny to look back on, though.

Like how your relationship with Jade is funny now?

Never stick your dick in crazy.

I wish you would have listened to that sometimes, but then I remember Lian is amazing.

I’m a cliché of dumb choices, what can I say Jaybird.

----------------------

In Y/N’s house, she would always play loud and sad music when she had the chance, some people thought her mental state was fucked, which sometimes it was, but most of the time the sad music went harder than the happy tunes you would catch from the other side of the house.

But even if music was blasting the loudest it could ever be, somehow she would still find herself lost in her thoughts, whether it was new dance routines or a story she would scribble down in her dream journal. there was something about those little fits of artistic passion she would experience from time-to-time.

It’s hard to put into words how those moments reminded her of the simplier times before sh was thrust into stardom, but also how they reminded her of Jason, and untouched mind she longed to know further. She knew there was so much more to the boy she had gone on dates with.

She would end up ignoring her phone for most of the rest of that day, just because she wanted peace and quiet, when A/N’s lover came over and she had to turn the music up louder so she wouldn’t be disrupted by the obvious.

I just got off of work, how are you? How’s your day been? Jason had texted Y/N while she ws turning up the music.

Well, I just had to turn up my music because my roommate’s lover is over, but other than that I’ve been enjoying peace and quiet in my room, waiting for something to do.

Is texting me something to do?

Yes.

That’s sweet of you. Work was boring though so I hope you don’t expect a story.

I don’t, don’t worry. You don’t always need a story for something to do.

Well, I’m going home with my brothers and dad, and we’re probably going to play office chair racing because I’m a bad boy.

You’re a bad boy?

Was that not funny?

It was pretty funny, isn’t that dangerous though?

Yeah actually, my brother broke his leg playing it and another time my little sister broke her leg playing it.

It seems fun but like, damn, two people have gotten injured playing that game, y’know.

Well if I die it’ll be a fun story!

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 4

the ackerman influence

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: consumption of alcohol and weed products, intoxication, swearing, pretty dang fluffy

AN: SURPRISE BITCHES it’s out tonight!! An infinite thank you belongs to my beloved @ghostlightprincess for her keen eye for editing and swoon-worthy compliments and encouragements. Seriously, this chapter is dedicated entirely to her. I hope y’all enjoy!! I hope y’all appreciate the love I gave Sasha this chapter because........reasons. Pleease feel free to come scream/squeal/chat in my DMs or askbox! In love with you all<3 ~valkyrie

(read part 3 here)

“Here, thisun ‘sblue!” Hange slurs as she passes you yet another shot glass with Greek letters etched on the side.

“Mmm, I like blue,” you giggle, then clink your shot with hers before you both tip your heads back to pour the liquor down your throats. It tastes inexplicably like turquoise, and you laugh loudly over the thumping dance music in approval. 

The poor freshman charged with staffing the drinks table eyes the pair of you skeptically. “Maybe you two should slow down, you seem like you’ve had enough—”

You round on him, offense written across your face. He’s definitely right, but you aren’t exactly gonna let some pimply, snot-nosed teen tell you how to drink. “Woah, Nelly, this ain’t cocktail hour, this is fuckin’ Greek row an’ I won’t have your judgment,” you waggle a finger in his general direction for emphasis, “harsh my vibe.”

“You tell ‘em, girlfriend,” Hange approves vaguely, hanging off your shoulder.

The freshman holds his hands up in defeat, amused. “No judgment.”

You nod once. 

“C’mon, Han, let’s see if we can find the snacks.”

“Pleeeeeeease…”

You turn away from the drinks table to do just that, angling towards where you remember the kitchen to be — honestly, this frat is huge — and set off through the crowd. Hange trails after you, fingers tangled with yours like they have been all night, yammering on about something you can’t be bothered to follow.

“‘Scuse us, comin’ through, on a mission!” You push past jostling bodies until you reach the far wall and lean against it for the last leg of your epic journey to the fluorescent lights of the kitchen.

Someone calls your name and you look up through squinted eyes to see Sasha leaned up against the counter by the fridge, bowl of chips in her arms and dab pen tucked behind her ear. She’s dressed casually, sweatpants and DIY cropped t-shirt contrasting your jeans and flashy top.

“Sasha! My love! My dearest, sweetest darling!” You stretch your arms wide towards her, Hange jolting forward where you’re connected. “We come in search of snacks.”

Sasha laughs and lazily deposits her bowl on the counter, stepping forward to stabilize you both with a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve come to the right place, my friends.”

She steers you both to sit at the island, wedging you between the only other two people in the kitchen. You vaguely recognize them as soccer players on the university team: a shaggy-haired brunette and a tall blonde. Sasha passes you her dab pen before ambling over to the pantry. You take a hit, then pass it to Hange, who’s looking much better now that she’s sitting down.

“Sash, these your friends?” the blonde asks, peering down at you through red-rimmed hazel eyes. You pluck the pen out of Hange’s limp grasp and offer it to him in greeting, along with a drunk smile. He takes it and grins back.

“Yep,” Sasha confirms with half her body still stuck into the pantry. “It’s the mad scientist one and the architect.”

“Almost architect,” you correct. “Not official until I have my degree! Although, I will agree, Han’s a mad scientist.” You poke her in the side and she swats you away with an eye roll.

“Oh,” the brunette soccer player pipes up from Hange’s other side, now looking at you curiously as well. He’s also high, startling green eyes hooded and posture relaxed. “So you’re Braun’s ex.”

You hide your shudder of distaste by turning back to take a drag off the pen. “Please don’t tell me that’s all I’m known for,” you sigh out with a cloud of smoke.

“Eren, don’t be an ass.” Sasha finally returns with a box of chocolate pretzels and a bag of hot Cheetos. “Pick your poison, hot stuff,” she offers each in turn. You ponder for a second, then reach for the Cheetos. “That’s Eren—” she points to the brunette, who raises a lazy hand “—and that’s Jean—” the blonde reaches for the pretzels. Sasha makes an offended noise and cradles them to her chest.

You introduce both yourself and Hange while Sasha plays defense against Jean’s long reach.

“Sorry,” Eren apologizes to you, leaning over Hange to grab some Cheetos. “I heard what he did to you. Really shitty.” His tone is casual, but the way he’s practically pinning you in place with his eyes makes you twitch.

“Puh-lease,” Hange pulls out the word, long and sarcastic. “‘Twas more than shitty, what that douche did. I’d’ve wrung him out to dry, but she didn’t—”

You cut her off with a sharp poke to her side. “Drop it, Han, I don’t wanna think about it.”

“But— ooh!” She’s sufficiently distracted when you shove your food in front of her face.

“Sorry,” Eren apologizes again.

“S’okay,” you sigh and take another drag, then hold the pen out to him in a peace offering. He smiles slowly and takes it.

“You guys staying over? There’s plenty of room in the basement, and friends of Sasha’s are always welcome.” It’s Jean who offers, returning to his seat beside you with a singular pretzel for his trouble.

“Hmm, might be nice,” Hange muses, but you’re already shaking your head.

“Thank you, but my roommate’d probably have a conniption if I wasn’t home in the morning.”

Hange actually snorts at this, then starts coughing violently because of the hot Cheeto dust suddenly up her nose. You pat her back in mild concern.

“What, they got a stick up their ass or something?” Eren asks.

“Or something. Levi’s just protective.”

“Levi?” Eren’s eyes are suddenly wide, almost fearful. “Levi Ackerman?”

“Yeah.” Your tone edges on defensive. “Why?”

He takes a hit and shrugs before answering. “He’s just my foster sister’s cousin. Interesting family.”

“Oh, you mean Mikasa?” You didn’t know exactly how they were related, but she’d helped Levi move in and it had struck you how eerily similar they were in disposition.

“Yeah, Mikasa. She’s around here somewhere…” As though by magic, he turns to look over his shoulder just as Mikasa and another blonde boy you don’t recognize mosey in from the hallway. She’s leaning down to catch his soft words and he’s talking with his hands, stalling as his eyes light on the little group in the kitchen.

“Oh, hey guys,” he greets. 

“Armiiiin,” Eren greets with a genuine smile. “Come meet some new friends.”

The pair rounds the kitchen island, Armin allowing Eren to pull him in by the arm and Mikasa going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Sasha. 

“I know you,” Hange pipes up, tilting her head to observe Armin. “You’re in the sophomore biochem class I TA for. Arlert, right?”

Armin ducks his head in a nod. “Yep. Professor LaBelle is a wonder, I had a great time this semester.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Hange’s grin is almost slipping to the dangerous side of intrigued. “I graded your final paper, by the way, and just between us, you set the grade curve.”

He blushes red but his eyes shine with something akin to satisfaction. “Really? That’s a relief, it was a bear to write.”

Eren leans back behind Hange to gesture to you, looking across the kitchen at his foster sister. “Mikasa, this is—”

“—Levi’s roommate,” they say at the same time.

“I know.” Her dark eyes regard you interestedly. “Hi, again,” she greets, saying your name even though she’s maybe heard it once in her life.

“Hi!” You give a small wave.

“What, uh, what,” Jean clears his throat and you look up at him to catch a blush staining across his cheeks and nose. He’s looking at Mikasa. “What’re you guys up to in the basement?”

“We were just going to start a movie, Connie’s setting up the projector,” Mikasa says, eyes flicking from you to Eren. “Wanted to see if you guys wanted to join.”

Jean stands suddenly, his stool rocking from the force of it. “Y-yeah, we’ll join!” Sasha hides a snicker behind her hand.

Eren stands, too, between Armin and Hange, who are still chatting. He looks down at you and says your name like a question. “You coming?”

You find yourself shaking your head again. “I’m so crossed, I think if I even look at a couch I’ll fall asleep. And I, uh,” you yawn, slipping your phone out of a back pocket to check the time. 12:11 AM. “I should be getting home.”

It’s earlier than when you would normally call it quits, but suddenly all you can think about is going home and falling into Levi’s clean, soft-smelling sheets. Plus, it’s the Saturday preceding finals week and tonight was only meant to blow off steam between intense days of studying.

“You stayin’?” You bump Hange with your shoulder, and she looks around at you with wide eyes as though she forgot you were there.

“Hmm?”

“You stayin’ for the movie?”

“We’re watching It: Chapter Two,” Armin supplies, eyes crinkled in excitement.

Hange’s eyes grow impossibly wider behind her glasses and she grabs your elbow a little too hard. “You wouldn’t mind, right? I’ve been meaning to watch it.”

You smile and shake your head. “Wouldn’t mind at all. You stay, I’ll call an Uber.”

The whole group starts migrating in the lazy way drunk and high people do: Mikasa helps Sasha with the snacks; Eren and Jean grab canned drinks from the fridge; Armin and Hange gravitate towards the door, talking fast with words you’ve never heard before. You stay sitting at the island, tapping away at your phone to order a car.

When you stand to find the front door, your high hits you from behind like a fuckin’ baseball bat and you sway dangerously. You whistle through your teeth, low and soft, planting a hand on the counter. Sasha looks over at you in concern, her arms full.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I just… what is in that dab pen?”

She laughs, head tilting back. “Good shit, right? Got that one new last week.”

“For real…” you trail off, getting your bearings.

“Here,” Mikasa starts, piling even more food into Sasha’s arms, “I’ll walk you out. Levi would skin me if he knew I didn’t make sure your driver’s not an ax murderer.”

Normally, you’d protest, but the room really is starting to spin.

“Okay,” you sigh and allow her to hook your arm through hers. She’s surprisingly solid, and you find yourself leaning heavily into her. “How’re you still sober?”

“I don’t drink or smoke,” she answers, gently pushing past Armin standing in the doorway. “Doesn’t affect me, anyway, so it’d just be a waste of money.”

“Huh,” you grunt, then twist to wave to the group. “Night, everyone.”

A replying chorus of “goodnight” chases you and Mikasa through the dark foyer littered with drunken party-goers. 

“Oh, wait,” she pauses with a hand on the doorknob. “Did you bring a jacket?”

“Oh,” you wrinkle your nose and think back to getting ready in the afternoon. It had been unseasonably warm and your coat didn’t match your outfit. “No, I didn’t bring one.”

Mikasa gives you an odd look and deposits you by the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Your body feels light as you lean back, tucking your hands into your armpits so they don’t float away. Your eye catches on movement in the dark shadows by the staircase and you squint, trying to see who’s there. It takes a second, but you eventually make out a pair of people, well… making out. They’re completely absorbed in each other, bodies impossibly close and you giggle quietly to yourself before your stomach rolls. No, don’t think about… too late.

You shut your eyes tight and turn away from the couple to lean sideways against the wall. The image is too similar, too gut-punchingly familiar.

“Didn’t mean what? Didn’t mean to stick your tongue down my best friend’s throat? Didn’t mean to practically fuck your best friend’s girlfriend in public?”

The biting words and stuttered apologies are still rolling around in your head when Mikasa comes back, thick puffer coat in hand. She hands it to you and you mutter a subdued “thanks,” twitching to dislodge the dull pain that’s settled in your ribs.

“It’s Eren’s, but he won’t mind. He doesn’t wear this one a lot, and you can just give it back next time we see you.”

“Right,” you nod, head moving a little too easily as you slip your arms in and fumble with the zipper. The faux fur around the hood tickles your face as Mikasa flips it up over your head. She’s clearly experienced in the art of taking care of intoxicated people.

Outside, you’re grateful you bundled up because the temperature has dropped significantly since the afternoon. Chilly December wind bites at your face and you bury your hands in coat pockets to save them from the same fate. Your fingers brush against something cold and metallic, and before you know it you’re pulling out a fistful of crumby objects: a super plus tampon, the packaging split down the side; two “for her pleasure” condoms; and, inexplicably, a Hot Wheels matchbox car. An ugly snort escapes your nose and Mikasa looks over at you in alarm. You raise up your fist and she chuckles through her nose as well. Squinting in the dim light of a flickering streetlamp, you find the expiration date on the condoms to be several months ago, so you lean over to a convenient trash can and toss both them and the tampon. The matchbox car returns to the pocket. Who knows, maybe Eren’ll miss it if it’s gone.

Mikasa doesn’t look affected by the cold, only winding her red scarf more securely around her neck as you both quietly wait on the sidewalk for your Uber. A quick glance at the app tells you that it’s three minutes away.

“Are you and Levi close?” You find yourself asking into the night sounds of Greek Row on a Saturday night.

You almost think she doesn’t hear you over the sound of a group spilling out of a neighboring sorority, but then she answers.

“Not particularly. We didn’t grow up together and only connected because of Uncle Kenny a couple years ago.” Her tone is light and casual as she talks about her family, as though you should know who Uncle Kenny is. Should I know who Uncle Kenny is?

“Oh,” is all you can think to say.

“We may not be close,” she starts again, eyeing you closely, “but I think we’re very similar. And I can tell he cares a lot about you.”

“Oh. Right.” Your palms are suddenly sweaty in your pockets.

“He may not show it,” her tone is careful, “But he does.”

You smile faintly and kick your boot against the curb. “He does show it, in his own way. He’s been really good to me.” Somehow, it’s easy to talk about this to Mikasa, even when you get all stuttery and weird having an identical conversation with Hange. Maybe it’s the drugs and alcohol, or maybe it’s because there’s not a hint of judgment in Mikasa’s eyes. Either way, it feels good to speak your feelings into the world.

“Good.” She nods and follows your gaze to where you’re still scuffing the curb. “Some unsolicited advice for you: if you ever want anything besides mutual pining to come out of it, you need to be really obvious. Or make the first move outright.”

This makes you stutter and wring your hands, she just puts it so bluntly. “R-right, the first move…. Oh, I think that’s my car.”

“What’s the license plate number we’re looking for?”

You read it out from the app while Mikasa steps to the back of the blue sedan that just pulled up. She nods, confirming it’s the same, then circles to the driver’s side window, which is cracked open.

“Hi,” you greet the driver, a blonde woman in her late twenties, and confirm her name matches the one in the app before sliding into the back seat. Mikasa leans down to murmur something to her and she nods, glancing back at you in the rearview mirror.

“G’night, Mikasa,” you call out the window. “Thanks for everything. And tell Eren thanks for the jacket.”

She waves as the car pulls away. You settle into the quiet hum of the car and let your mind wander. 

Mutual pining. Make the first move outright….

—

“Mikasa texted me,” Levi says by way of greeting as you stumble out of the car and thank your driver. He’s leaning on a lamp post outside your apartment building when your Uber pulls up, jacket and boots pulled on over flannel pajamas. 

“Levi, stand ominously on the sidewalk often?” you ask, dragging out his name long and sing-song.

“Only for you, kid.” He loops an arm around your waist and steers you towards the entryway

“Not a kid,” you grumble, masking the stutter of your heart at his usual pet name for you. Somewhere in the last couple of weeks, it’s gained a weightier significance, at least to you. It’s endearing and a little distancing and charged all at once and it makes your head spin as you climb the stairs up to your floor.

At your door, Levi unlocks it while you drift slowly in a circle next to him, trying to expend the sudden nervous energy you’ve gained in his presence.

The first move, first move, first move… Mutual pining. Mutual.

“What are you muttering about?”

You hadn’t realized you were thinking out loud.

“Nothing,” you say quickly and pass through the door he’s holding open for you. Your momentum carries you farther than you mean to go, and he catches you by the elbow, reeling you back to the coat rack by the door.

“Whose jacket is that?” He shrugs off his own and eyes the faux fur around your face skeptically.

You fumble with the zipper for a second before he sighs and reaches for it himself, stepping into your space. His face is so close to yours you can feel his breath ghosting over your collarbone as he unzips the jacket.

“Eren’s,” you finally answer. “Look.” You pull the matchbox car out of its pocket and show it to Levi with a wide grin. He stares at it for a second, then the tiniest smile twitches onto his lips.

“He’s a weird kid.” It’s almost fond, with an undertone of exasperation.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s in the art department, too. Graphic design major, marketing minor. I TAed his freshman seminar last year.” Levi slips the coat off your shoulders as he speaks, then hangs it by the loop next to his. 

“Ah, that makes sense,” you muse, wandering farther into the apartment. “He looked terrified when I mentioned you. What’d you do to those poor freshmen?”

“Nothing they didn’t deserve.”

“...ominous,” you hiss, your eyes wide as you let him gently push you into your room. The nervous energy hasn’t quite been expended, and you find your hands wringing with it. Suddenly, you’re rambling about your night as he sits you down on your bed among the laundry that’s taken residence there in its disuse. The stupid song they played at the first frat; Sasha’s excellent food; the blue mystery shot.

“It tasted like turquoise, I swear, Levi! It was like magic!” Your eyes are wide, insistent as you lean forward into his space.

“How does something taste like turquoise?” He ducks his head to avoid your face, fingers untying the knotted laces of your boots.

“You’re the artist, you tell me.”

“I don’t eat my paint.”

“Not even once? Not gonna lie, your paint looks very tasty, sometimes…”

“Are you always this annoying when you’re high?” He tugs the second boot off your foot as you let yourself fall back onto your bed.

“Come on, you love me,” you crow to the ceiling. Mutual pining.

Levi mutters something under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Where do you keep your pajamas?” He stands and looks around your room.

“Middle drawer, left side,” you direct, lazily motioning to your dresser with an arm. Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to Levi pick his way across the floor and slide the drawer open.

Normally, you can get yourself in bed after a night out just fine. Normally, you slip into the apartment making as little noise as possible, and fall into bed without Levi even waking up. But it feels nice to have his steady hands on you when it feels like your organs might start floating apart at any second. It’s anchoring and reassuring and you can feel the safety of being near him lulling you into a doze.

Come on, you love me.

You shoot up to sitting, mind whirling and chest tight. “L-Levi?”

“What.”

“D-do…” Do you love me? “Do you think I’m pretty?” It feels petty in your mouth and you immediately regret the words, but it would be worse to try and take them back, so you just bite your lip and look down at the floor.

A hand plops onto the top of your head. Levi’s gray eyes meet yours, soft with something you can’t describe, when he tilts your head up. He’s quiet for a moment, then reaches his other hand to thumb your bottom lip out from between your teeth.

“I think you’re very pretty.”

--

(read part 5 here)

[asdfghjkl7things]

Someone messaged me for a Part 2, so here you go guys! Hope you like it too <3 @iis4d @choryczynormalny @saeranoppa

Angst Drabble - Part 2

tw: cursing hihi

It's been a month since that happened and it's been a month since you avoided him. A lot of people wondered what the hell happened to the both of you. People saw you and Iwaizumi as inseparable.. Why? because where ever he goes, you were there and where ever you go, he was there.

The both of you supported each other, always.. if Iwaizumi has a volleyball match, and as a former Ace of Seijoh, he's exceptionally famous and it means so many fans, right? But you always stood out as his #1 fan! Sometimes, if you were too busy studying, he definitely knows that you have a habit of skipping your meals and too stressed to even care, even though he's busy with the practices, he will always make sure to bring your favorite foods & that matcha frappucino from Starbucks.. Once in a while, there were times that Iwaizumi ends up cooking for your meal, with him eyeing you to finish it and that session always ended up with you being asleep beside him at your favorite couch inside your room.

So... What happened?

A rare night.. that same day where Iwaizumi knows he fucked up.

Issei Matsukawa, Takahiro Hanamaki and Hajime Iwaizumi were attending the same university in Tokyo. Toru Oikawa was still missing since he's in Argentina, pursuing his volleyball career.

Matsun and Maki ended up entering the bar together when Iwaizumi drunk called them. They saw how their friend mumbled some words that they didn't understand even a single word.

Maki muttered to no one "What a rare sight of.. Iwa.. getting drunk."

Iwaizumi's right side of his face fell flat at the table's surface and his eyes were closed while his left hand still holding a full glass of whiskey.

Matsun sighed and crossed his arms "Okay.. Spill it." He said as he sat beside him.

"Ifufhsiajjup."

Maki tilted his head and looked so confused "Huh? Wait.. what?"

"I-I'm so f-fucked up."

"Fucked up? Why?" Matsun replied out of curiosity while ordering a drink from the bartender.

Maki asked after he declined an offer from the bartender "Oii, what did you do?"

Iwaizumi got up and drank another shot of whiskey. He's way past his alcohol limit.. but.. what to do, right? He hurt you. He fucking hurt you. His gripped on the glass tightened "I- I t-told her I still love-"

Both, Maki and Matsun leaned closely towards their friend to hear him clearly since the sound is too loud for their liking.

"- Yui.."

"WHAAT?!!"

"W-wa-wait.. You told Y/n that you still love your bitchy ex-girlfriend?! That ex-girlfriend who fucking cheated on you?! Bro! Y/n's your close friend! You told us that you are not interested about friends to lovers kind of shit but you still courted her because you love her, right?! W-wait.. Ugh.. I need a fuckin' drink." Maki exclaimed. Suddenly, he called the bartender to gave him a drink. This is too much for them. They know how that girl damaged Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi needed it. He needed someone to snapped him out of it. What Maki told him was the truth.. but.. why did it end up this way?

Matsun sighed again. He has the most sound mind compared to the other 3 and seeing Maki still surprised by the revelation, He asked carefully "Why did you do that? What happened, really?"

Iwaizumi refilled his glass and started to sip it little by little.

"Oi, do you think it's too much already? Stop drinking." Maki said

His friend shook his head "I- I needed this."

"Alcohol is not a solution, bud."

Iwaizumi looked so lifeless while swirling his drink slowly "You guys knew.. Y-yui's my first love, right?"

Matsun almost choke while drinking "Correction. 'Was'.."

"Y/n starting getting jealous and over protective to me when Yui came back. She-"

Maki bursted out "Of course! Who wouldn't be?! That was your ex-girlfriend! That cheater-"

Matsun sighed for the nth time "Maki, please.. just let Hajime finish his story first."

"and you guys definitely knew that I don't like being prisoned in a relationship.. It goes for.. I think 2 months.. I wanted to talked to her about it. I was about to go to the playground near their house and I s-saw them talking. I- I kind of worked up when I saw Y/n pushed Yui and it ended up a mild wrist sprain."

Maki was about to burst again when Iwaizumi said something..

"E-every word I said to her.. I fucking regretted it.. I wanted to make it up to her.. I-" Iwaizumi got choked up.

"I wanted to say that I still love her.. I didn't even let her explain-"

"You did not let her explain?! What kind of boyfriend are you?! You asshole!" Maki started to become enraged.

"Maki.." Matsun massaged his temple. Where is Oikawa when you needed him. Drunk Iwa and Maki who got worked up is a bad combination.

You cried your heart out that night. Why! Why! Why!

What is with her that I don't have? Am I just a rebound? For how long did Hajime hide it from me?

For a first time after what happened, you tried not to look for him, answer his calls and messages.. for short, you planned to avoid him at all cost and it went on for a month.

Some of your friends even asked you about what happened but even though he hurt you, you did not disclose.

You always replied "Had a fight."

They didn't believe you for a second since they know how Iwaizumi will pursue you even if it's a slight disagreement. Nevertheless, they still comforted you.

"Hey, Y/n. Iwaizumi-san is-"

"I'm busy"

"Bu-"

Well, that kind of converstion always occur whenever Iwaizumi tried to talk to you.

It was now 2 months since that happened. The volleyball club had a practice since they have an incoming match this weekend.

Maki and Matsun observed their friend who's not playing well. He looked so tired and what not.

Iwaizumi groaned when his spike was out.

They know how affected Iwaizumi is.

After their practice, Iwaizumi had a frown on his face. This is not his best day. Almost all of his spike and serve were out.

He did not even spare a glance to his friends.

You totally forgot to grocery shop since you were so preoccupied by your studies so you decided to go to the convenience store.

You were in your cute pyjamas while walking towards the store. You like reading the 'Nutrition Facts' labeled at the back of the food/drink that you wanted to buy but you were not in the mood to cook for yourself so you picked up 2 tuna onigiri. You went to the refreshments section to get a bottle of milk but both hands tried to picked it up.

"Sorry-"

"So-"

You tensed up. That voice.. Ha-hajime..

"Y-you can get it." You muttered a bit fast so you can get out of this situation.

"W-wait! Y/n!"

You paid for the onigiri and walked fast to avoid him.

While walking home, you can feel the coldness of the air but did not mind any of it since your mind is always telling you to 'run'.

You flinched when you felt his hands wrapping around your arms to stop you.

"Y/n.. please.." His voice croaked.

You can feel your breath hitched. You're not ready yet to face him.

You are afraid.

You slowly turned around and you felt your heart breaking. You miss him so much that you want to hug him so tight into your embrace.

"At last.. I can see your face up close.." Iwaizumi softly smiled.

You're still not ready to look into his eyes because the truth? You are afraid to break down infront of him. You took a deep breath to look at him and you saw how much he longed for you through his eyes.

He took a step towards you and stroke your cheeks softly. His eyes glistened "I- I'm so s-sorry."

You were about to say something when he pulled you into a hug. Your eyes widened when you felt your top getting wet. He is crying and it's a first time..

"I- I'm so sorry.. I d- did not mean to hurt you.. p-please. It- It's my fault.." Iwaizumi sobbed.

You pulled back from the hug and took a step back. Iwaizumi can feel his heart ache. So near yet so far..

You tried to hold your tears "B-but.. you told me you still love her.. A-am I just your rebound?" You finally broke down.

"N-no!"

"Then w-why? Y-you left me that day for her. You didn't even let me explain-" You wiped your tears away..

Iwaizumi was about approach you again but everytime he step forward, you took a step backward..

He exhaled shakily "I.. I felt.. strangled up when Yui c-came back.. You were overly jealous in such a small thing. I-it feels like you don't trust me e-enough. I wanted to talk you that day and then I- I saw you pushed her away-"

"You want to know why I'm j-jealous?.." You gulped trying to find your voice.

"Everyday since she came back, she always told me that y-you still love her.. She w-wants you back, H-hajime and I can't let you go to her since I saw how she hurt you back then.. t-that's how much I l-love you.. but you still went to her.."

"Babe-"

You chuckled a little while wiping your tears away "b-but.. wh-what am I compared to your first love, right?"

Iwaizumi pulled you to his arms and hugged you so tight "I'm.. so so sorry.. I didn't m-mean to hurt you.."

You keep on sobbing when you kept on remembering about what happened that day. It's like it happened yesterday..

He gazed at you lovingly while wiping your tears "I-I realized something that day.. I thought a part of me still wanted her but no.. She wanted me, yes.. but I want you, not her. You are my present and my future, Y/n."

Your face reddened at his sudden confession. Lots of butterflies dancing around your stomach. Your heart doing crazy flip flops.

He kissed your forehead. Forehead kisses by Hajime is the best.

He leaned his forehead towards yours "P-please.. forgive me.. Please.. give me a chance to prove it to you more.."

Iwaizumi eyed your soft lips that he misses. He tilted his head to the right a bit "I love you, Y/n."

He kissed your lips and you stood there frozen, still your bearings are not yet functional, from his sudden confession to kiss..

He smiled, his smile that made you fall for him more, as he pulled away slightly but you snaked your arm around his neck and kissed him.

"I love you too, Hajime.."

You jumped as they won the volleyball match. 2 - 1.

You excitedly ran towards your boyfriend and hugged him "Congrats, Babe!! You're so awesoome!"

Iwaizumi chuckled and kissed your cheeks "Thanks, Babe!"

Since the confrontation, both of you were now showy when it comes to pda in public.. but not too much.. and your relationship blossomed..

Matsun smiled "So.. they're back together. No more drunk ass Iwa."

You hugged Matsun and Maki "Congrats to the both of you too!"

Maki ruffled your hair "Thanks, Y/n."

You nudged his side softly "Maki, I heard you beat the crap out of Hajime."

Matsun spit his water "Iwa told you?"

You nodded but smirked afterwards "Feel free to beat him if he tried to become an asshole again."

Maki and Matsun winked at you "You got us!"

"Hey!!!"

[babbushka]

Somethin’ Brewin’

Pale x Reader (Blue Moon ‘Verse)

2.5k; NSFW (uniform kink, PIV, fingering, spanking, derogatory names, rough sex, begging, finger-sucking)

Kinktober 2020 Masterlist || Available on AO3

                                                  ----------------------

It’s late, real late. The kind of late where there ain’t even any taxis speedin’ past. An empty diner late at night sure was somethin’, wasn’t it? Sunday nights weren’t too busy, not when everyone had to get up early and head out to their 9-to-5s the next morning. So there you were, all by your lonesome, a couple dimes in the jukebox to keep you company.

Rain slicks up the pavement of the driveway outside, and through the windows you can see the reflection of all the neon out there in the cold and wet. In many ways, you love the diner like this; some soft jazz playing on that jukebox that’s gotta be older than you are, no one to disturb your thoughts as you rinse the last of the dishes and put them in the sinks for the third shift bus-boys.

The bus-boys have all gone, and so has the cook. The diner only serves coffee and whatever you’re willin’ to whip up, when it gets this late. It don’t matter, not one bit, ain’t nobody around to want you to whip anything up anyway.

Oh well, you think as you wipe down the milkshake bar, soon that little hand will hit one and then you’ll get to go home.

“Shit.” You tsk the roof of your mouth, you forgot your damn umbrella.

Fish ain’t here to let you take his this time, he went home an hour ago when it was dry. Maybe you’ll call for a ride, you mull the thought over. You’ve got the pocket cash for it, could just pull a bill or two from the tip jar and call it an evening, but the thought annoys you. That tip jar money’s been goin’ right into a special box that you’ve been working on, hopin’ to surprise your man for somethin’ nice for the holidays.

A bell at the front door dings, and any thoughts about loneliness in an empty diner are cast right outta your head, because as if he was summoned by your very thought, standin’ in front of you is your very own Pale.

Poor guy looks angry, but then again he always does. First thing in the morning after a long night of dead-to-the-world sleep and he looks angry, that was your Pale. He’s got a good reason to be annoyed tonight, just on account of the rain and all, his big leather jacket protected him from most of it, the rest he shakes off right at the door. He hangs up the jacket and reveals one of those silk shirts he loves to wear, gold chain glinting in the soft neon light.

“Wasn’t thinkin’ I’d be seein’ you tonight.” You greet him warmly, setting down the last of the thick glass cups that you’ve been rinsing out.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” He frowns, makes his way over to you where you’re waiting for him with your eyes closed and lips pursed.

You sigh against his mouth when his lips meet yours in a deep kiss, Pale leaning and reaching over the counter to grab at you. His hands don’t ever keep to themselves, and you grin against the corner of his mouth when he gives your ass a firm squeeze.

“Past couple of Sundays you’ve been real busy, that’s all.” You give him a casual shrug. You’re thrilled that he’s here, thrilled that your shift is almost over and that he’s come to pick you up, come to spend a little time with you before you go back to his place and spend the whole night together.

You don’t often spend nights together, just with how hard he works.  

“I’m never too busy for you sweetheart you know that – why don’t you go pour me a cup of somethin’ hot, hm?” Pale scrubs the hair out of his face, shakes it back a little so it falls nice and even. It’s wet, but that’s no issue, you like how he looks like this, and the diner is warm enough so he won’t go catching any colds.

“You’re in luck, I’ve got just enough coffee left in this pot for one VSOP.” You give a glance to the coffee pot on the warmer that has been pitifully neglected, save for a swirl every now and again.

Pale nods, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop being smug about that, about converting him to being a coffee drinker. He used to say it sours his stomach, but that’s just because he’s never had a good cup, he never had any of yours. Now he can’t get enough of the shit, and you take that as a win.

Bending over to reach for his favorite mug – you keep it someplace special so that none of the other waitresses send it out to customers during the day – you don’t even think about the fact that your skirt must be ridin’ up until you hear Pale’s very measured and even voice ask, “Hey sweetheart?”

You stand upright and look over your shoulder, that mug of his in hand and a sly smile creeping across your face.

“Yeah Pale?” You bat your lashes at him, acting oh so innocent – even though you’re anything but.

“Do that again.” His eyes have darkened, that cigarette of his clenched between his teeth, the red tip glowing as he takes a forceful drag.

Instead of bending over, you simply hike your skirt up, giving him exactly what he wants. You’re wearing underwear, but it’s the kind he likes, the soft cotton kind that rips easily, that hugs your hips and ass nicely. It’s white, and you just know Pale is already thinking about how soaked that fabric is gonna get, because he’s pouncin’ out of his seat in an instant.

“Like what you see?” You laugh brightly, playfully, dropping your skirt and turning to face him as he pushes his way through the little swinging door of the milkshake bar, is crowdin’ you up against the counter.

“Damn right I do – hold on.” Pale grunts, flicks his ash and yanks open his belt buckle.

You lick your lips while you watch him, casting a cursory glance to the rest of the diner. Anyone could come in, anyone could walk right in and you’d have nowhere to go or hide. The thought thrills you, especially as Pale manhandles you and turns you around, bends you over the counter. He keeps a hold of your wrists, bound behind your back, as he kicks your feet open.

“I love this fuckin’ uniform.” Pale licks his teeth, the hand that ain’t holdin’ your wrists shoves between your legs, rubs at the folds of your pussy and coaxes all kinds of wetness out of you, making you breathe hard from the pleasure that friction brings, “Don’t go workin’ nowhere else – or if you do, steal one of these and bring it back home to me whydontcha.”

“It’s the uniform that does it for you, hm?” You tease him, wriggling your ass against his hand as he slips a couple fingers under your panties and into your pussy, scissoring roughly just to get you stretched enough to take the tip of him. You moan out loud, “Ohhhhh, is that it? You like me in this short skirt?”

“The little hat,” Pale corrects you, and something about that catches you off guard and makes you push back against his hand, his hips, and he groans, “Fuck you’re sexy.”

“How do you want me, sir?” You gasp, “Well done…or over easy?”

That seems to be enough for him, because he pulls his hand out of your underwear and spanks you hard, making you yelp. It stings in the best way, and you can’t help but clench around nothing, wanting to be filled.

Drool pools out of your mouth and drips onto the counter when you get your wish, when Pale shoves down your underwear and you feel the head of his cock push its way roughly into your cunt, using your own slick and some of his spit to lube the way. Your legs spread even wider for him, as wide as the panties around your thighs will let you.

“Atta girl, there it is, right there. All this, this wet for me?” Pale grunts, one hand holding your wrists steady and the other now moving to pin your hip in place as he wastes no time thrusting.

“Shit, yes, Pale – your cock’s so big!” You moan, loud and high because there ain’t nobody around to hear you, no one’s coming, you can be loud loud loud as he thrusts his big dick into your wet cunt.

Stuff on the counter clamors and rattles as he speeds his pace up, not in the mood for anything gentle tonight. You loved it, loved what he gave you and took it eagerly. Pale hadn’t fucked you since last night, and you were starting to miss the feeling of his thick cock rammed up inside you.

“Been dreamin’ about this pussy all day, you know that? Couldn’t fuckin’ wait to get home only to find the place empty, figured you’d be here and damn I’m glad I was right, damn this pussy’s good.” Pale smokes while he fucks you, cigarette clenched between his teeth as you clench around his cock.

“Where – oh! – where the hell else am I gonna go this late?” You gasp and bite your lip, eyes struggling to stay open, the world shaking around you. If you weren’t bent over and pressed against the counter, your tits would probably be sore from how much they’d bounce.

“Off to one of your other boyfriends maybe, I don’t know I ain’t your keeper or nothin’.” Pale pretends he doesn’t give a fuck but you manage to smack his hand even pinned down like you are.

“Shut up with that shit, I’m your girl Pale, always your girl.” You huff out, before shifting your weight so you can meet every one of Pale’s thrusts, your pussy tight and hot around that aching pleasure, “Does this feel like anybody’s fucked me but you?”

“Say it again.” Pale’s quick to say, ignoring your question, and if your body weren’t on fire you’d roll your eyes, because he only riled you up enough so that he’d hear you say his favorite thing in the world,

“I-I’m yours. Your whore, your needy whore, oh fuck, harder Pale please, please!” You beg, beg because it’s all you can manage, his balls slapping your ass fast fast fast, your pussy drooling and dripping onto your panties, soaking into the fabric as his cock spears in and out of you, rough and dirty as he smokes his cigarette.

“I was just teasin’ you know, you’re good to me, my good girl. I like when you make that face you make at me, gorgeous.” Pale sounds like he’s smiling, even as he’s breathing hard, as he’s grunting and groaning and squeezing your hip, your wrists. You shoot a dirty look over his face and Pale thrusts sharply into you from it, “Yeah that’s it, be mad at me baby.”

“You’re – ah, right there right there – you’re awful to me, so mean, god you feel so good!” Your voice climbs higher and higher until you’re gasping loud, body jerking as Pale brushes against your gspot, the head of his cock knocking up against your cervix on every thrust.

“Keep your hat on sweetheart.” Pale grunts and groans, pulls his hand off your hip to smack at your ass again, another hit right on the flesh of your thigh, before that hand of his comes forward to stick his fingers into your mouth. You immediately suck on them, kissing and licking and biting them, hollowing your cheeks around them as he fucks you, “Big boss could come walkin’ in any minute and then you’d be in some real trouble, wouldn’t you? Real big trouble, gettin’ dicked down like this right out in the open.”

“Don’t care,” You moan around his fingers, they’re so thick, so wide, he can barely fit three of them against your tongue.

“’Course you don’t, slut.” Pale scoffs, and you chuckle warm in your chest, because you really are – but only for him. “You close?”

“Yes – yesyesyes, please, just a little more, touch me please.” Your voice is muffled against his hand, his fingers, but he can hear you just fine. Pale’s jeans chafe against your ass, your knees shake and body tenses, the pit of fire in your stomach rolling through your body. Your nipples are stiff, so stiff against your bra and the friction there makes your cunt clench, tears starting to well up in your eyes, if you don’t come soon you’ll be in pain from how good it all is.  

“Only because you ask so pretty.” He groans, coating his fingers with your spit for a moment or two longer, before lowering them to quickly rub harsh circles on your clit while he fucks you to completion.

“Oh!” Your knees turn in and your body goes limp with pleasure as your nerves tingle and sing up and down your spine, soaking his cock with your come.

He relishes the feeling and soon after you feel the hot splash of his come filling you up, pumping into you. Pale always did have such a big load, you’re almost disappointed that you won’t get to keep it safe for him all day – that dirty secret leaking out of your pussy while you served coffee was one of your favorite thrills.

This was good though, just this, just Pale, the two of you in the empty and quiet diner. Neon spots dance in front of your eyes, as Pale slows to a lazy languid pace, milking your orgasms for all they’re worth.

“Mmmm, thank you.” You sigh dreamily, pleasure like pepsi-cola bubbling and fizzing your brain, your nerve endings when his hips finally come to a stop.

“Don’t go thankin’ me for nothin’, we’re only getting started.” Pale stubs his cigarette out in one of the little ashtrays on the counter, and eases his cock out of you. You stretch and pop your joints, pulling your panties up and feeling thoroughly used in the best way, especially when he pinches your chin and kisses you with, “Now howsabout that coffee?”

“’Fraid we’re all out.” You lie, seeing that the clock struck one, your shift officially over.

Pale grins, kisses you once more and takes your hand, guiding you from out of the milkshake bar on wobbly legs.

“You’ll just have to come home with me then pretty girl,” Pale grabs that leather jacket of his and slings it around your shoulders when you make it to the front door, “We’ll get somethin’ brewin’ real quick.”

And if the third shift girls notice anything funny about you when you pass them in the parking lot, well, you’ve got the whole day off tomorrow to avoid their questions, spendin’ it with your man, your VSOP, instead.