#i think i got off topic oop

[allastoredeer]

My favorite appleradio dynamic is prejudiced Lucifer x sassy bitch Alastor.

In Dad Beat Dad, Alastor may have started the passive aggressive jabs, but Lucifer escalated to death threats (Alastor's head on a plate) with shocking ease.

Like: "Okay, Luci. You're at a 10 and I need you at a 2." Man literally needed less than half a reason to start that Loony Tunes bout.

I like to imagine it's a side effect of his need to control everything. Like he was fighting both sides of the argument rapid fire in his head and was then meeting the escalation of an imaginary Alastor.

Sort of like how he answered for/with Charlie when she thanked him mid-song for offering his help free of charge.

It's the type of overreaction that someone that aggravates others for fun would love! Enter Alastor, Certified Public Troll with only a passing acquaintance with self-preservation.

New Mission: How far can I go before this could be considered self-destructive tendencies?

Alastor unintentionally disproving Lucifer's "All sinners are the same" philosophy by just being the worst... and then Lucifer has to face the horrifying realization that he likes the bastard. XD

Lucifer: All sinners are bad.

Alastor: *being the absolute worst person Lucifer's ever met*

Lucifer: You know what, maybe other Sinners aren't that bad actually

But yes, prejudiced!Lucifer x sassybitch!Alastor is my bread and butter. It's so good. They clash so much and that's what makes it fun.

And literally, Alastor may have been passive aggressive first, but the way Lucifer ramped it up was impressive. I made a post before going over the scene when they officially met, and, like, Alastor's comments overall? Not very antagonist. Or, the words at least. Passive aggressive, sure, but the most outright antagonistisitc he got was when he called Lucifer short.

Whereas it was immediate dislike on Lucifer's side.

All Alastor said was (both in response to Lucifer's reaction to his bar and the very first time they spoke to each other): Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?

And THIS was Lucifer's face ⬇️

"And you are?"

Like, Alastor didn't even sound that passive aggressive. The most I could give him was the smirky little face he gave Lucifer

(god, why is Alastor so pretty right here though??? maybe that's why Lucifer was so mad. Boi turn down those bedroom eyes, Luci can't think. That was Alastor's first plan. He was going to seduce the king of Hell, but then Lucifer insulted his bar, and he decided they were throwing hands instead).

I'm of the opinion that Lucifer was antagonist towards Alastor first and Alastor was just matching his energy (albeit very readily LMAO his eye was twitching the moment Lucifer walked through the door).

Also, yes, thank you for bringing up Lucifer answering for Charlie, cuz I think that's something a lot of people overlook.

Well, maybe he didn't answer for her exactly. I imagine it's just what he wanted her to say, but still, look at Charlie's face ⬇️

She doesn't look very comfortable.

In fact, she looked awkward, annoyed, frustrated, and uncomfortable throughout most of her interactions with Lucifer in this episode.

(there's a lot more but tumblr has a picture limit)

Wheras, this is what she was like with Alastor:

like

DAMN

Okay Luci, I see why your insecurities were firing on all cylinders.

We all know that Alastor wasn't genuine about being a father figure to her, but there has to be something to his and Charlie's relationship if she's looking at him like this. Especially in front of Lucifer.

I'm getting off topic though, I could do a WHOLE other post on my thoughts about Charlie's relationship with Lucifer VS Charlie's relationship with Alastor, and why it is the way that it is.

Anyway, yes, I agree with you. Lucifer 100% escalated the fight between him and Alastor. He went from zero to sixty with no hesitation, and he wasn't even AWARE of Alastor and Charlie's relationship yet. Essentially, the way I see it, he was acting that way toward Alastor for the sole reason that he's a Sinner which is the definition of prejudice.

And I want to clarify to anyone reading this, this isn't me hating on Lucifer. I love Lucifer. I love his character and his flaws and his insecurities. I love the way it all affects how he interacts with other characters, both negatively and positively. This is what makes him so interesting to me.

He holds so much capacity for love while also being so heavily flawed and it is 😙👌 delicious.

[dagrapesody]

Haiii just wanted to say thank you for 100 followers

I shall give you ugly Marxolor doodles

(My persona btw)

[pestercide]

Not going to lie, I’m surprised the fandom isn’t eating up the new tone shift and characters’ struggles in ep5. Maybe I’m not looking in the right spaces but fandoms usually love that stuff.

I KNOW I mean the amount of angst art that was made prior to the episode really made me think people were gonna take everything from the new ep and run with it. Though that's not to say people didn't. I've seen plenty of people discuss what happened in the episode (especially regarding John and his daughter/his family in general,, people were going insane over that and I get it like we're getting deeper into what happened to him and his family which I'm also super interested in. Plus seeing his photos in Ignacio's house really got people discussing his connections/past with the cult and how there's such a specific focus on John).

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

The time Dazai spent in the mafia is the same amount of time most kids spend in highschool and k can’t stop thinking about it

[lesbianwilby]

howdy wil! Answer any or all of these if you want :D

violet— do you like to cook or bake? if so, what is it that you like to make?

azalea— what is the most recent song you listened to? how do you feel about it?

lotus— what is your favorite color and in what shade? e.g. sage green, navy blue, ect. dahlia— do you like to follow current fashion trends or do you have a particular style that you prefer to stick to?

HELLOOOOOOO thank u for adding the questions w ur ask i an in the middle of watching youtube videos n i dont have the brainpower to copy/paste these LMAO (so sory i didn't for u i do not think very well)

violet: i do sometimes!! theres not a lot of food or ingredients n shit in my house n cant rly buy like .any n also massive lack of energy so i cant a lot but i love cooking n baking even if its usually just helping my mom 🫶 im very fond of making things w chicken massive safe food 4 me in many ways

azalea: salamander by deco*27‼️ i adore this song SO much i just have to ignore that its about cup noodles and im good .most recent english song tho would be electioneering by radiohead which!! is actually my current favorite song off of ok computer :3

lotus: this is such a hard question for me to answer bc im so odd w colors 😭 i think?????? probly like a dark brick red.. overall i tend to stick more to color schemes vs specific colors n .all my color schemes tend to center around either red or neutrals so

dahlia: RAHHHHHH FASHION QUESTION so. for me its kinda a mix of both? it REALLY depends on the trend n who i see in it n how accessible it is to me n if i actually LIKE it.. like im not going to sit here n deny that my style has never been influenced by or even changed by trends bc thatd be a goddamn lie but also its not been like. a permanent change ig???? leme like share examples to fully explain

so heres two outfits i wore in 2021, first was sometime in summer second was during october or september probs?? now obviously these aren't like the same exact style but like in my brain n for how i dress they come close enough (also yes i had my hair dyed red two times in a row .no they were not the same shade or anything. btw think in second picture i already had my mullet why didnt i wear my hair up wth was up w that)

these r some more recent outfits!! first one is actually the most recent picture i have of any of my outfits i wore it to a job interview :3 and yes the three others have the same exact top and yes i am wearing the same two pairs of pants in these and yes i did wear both my necklace and pocket watch with them all and yes i did carry the same bag .my style has been toned down a LOT recently tbh n im ngl its def been at least partly influenced by trends.. i dont mind it tho its comfy n cute n i dont have to think much

however sometimes i do still go back to my "old" style that never rly left tbh (in the og pics the only thing i dont have anymore is the skirt n thats bc i dont wear those colors rly anymore).. first one was sometime this summer? second time i think was last month actually!!

n like even still w my toned-back style n shit i still make 3d kandi cuffs n i still listen to music that someone who would see me in passing wouldn't expect n even if these outfits r "tame" bc im way too lazy to go n find pictures from high school (my kandi cuffs used to get worn almost daily + my beloved reflective galaxy platforms have gotten so scuffed from the steps to the front 🫶) they're still pretty different in my mind i think to what i wear now so like .yeah what i wear out has been influenced by whatever trend i see on tiktok however its never been fully based on that 4 many reasons n the old parts of my style never rly "leave" they just get pushed back until a later time

[marsbotz]

slamming my fists against the floor like an animal thinkinh abt dadfario

[yellowharrington]

wildflower and barley -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 5k+ oops

warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333

divider by @cafekitsune

summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

No one likes using dating apps.

Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.

This was Texas, after all.

Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the “eligible” bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, “wanna fuck?”

No thanks.

It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.

You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting. 

Age range: 25-30

Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.

Age range: 35-45

Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel Miller does not use dating apps.

He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didn’t explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.

“It’s starting to get sad,” Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. “It’s not sad, Jesus. I’m just busy, is all.”

“Busy not gettin’ busy,” Sarah remarked, and Joel’s eyes widened. “Hey now! None of that.”

A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. “Okay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.”

Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. “I’m just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.”

Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a ‘love you’ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. It’s not like they’d magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.

Paul, 41

Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6’ because that matters.

You sighed deeply. Some things never change. 

After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.

Joel, 45

Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in. 

Now that was the most interesting thing you’d seen in a while.

He didn’t look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man you’d seen on an app, maybe ever.

When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green “Match!” Flash across your screen.

Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.

Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.

Joel has sent you a message.

Hey, darlin’. How are ya?

You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlin’? Ever?

Hey cowboy. I’m great, how are you?

He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.

Cowboy… I like that. I’m better now that I’m talking to you.

Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? 😂

No good?

Not bad. 6/10. 

Only 6/10? I’ll work on it. I like to think I’m better in person. 

I would love to find out. 

You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.

Oh, would you? Alright. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. If you don’t mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.

He’s a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? I’m new around here.

There’s a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If you’d prefer something fancier, let me know.

I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.

Tomorrow, 7pm ok?

You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.

Sounds great. Text me the address, I’ll be there. :)

Joel’s reply didn’t come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number. 

It’s Joel. This the right number?

Yup. You found me.

Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)

He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as “cowboy ♡”.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckin’ record. 

Joel was positively freaking out about this date.

Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friend’s place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He can’t remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.

Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?

His mind was brought out of it’s craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.

“Careful,” he warned, putting a hand up. “I just cleaned that off.”

“I can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.”

He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. “Dad! Don’t!”

“When do you wanna go to Ellie’s?” He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.

“Probably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?” she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.

“What’s your deal?” Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.

“Nothing.“

“Are you going on a date?”

Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”

“Oh my god, you actually took my advice,” Sarah laughed, watching her dad’s face burn red with embarrassment. “Just don’t do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.”

Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was… let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all. 

Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.

“Wear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommy’s last week. Looks good on you.” Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joel’s middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. “She’ll love you, I promise.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

It had been such a long time since you’d been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.

Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.

It’s 87 degrees at 5 o’clock, idiot. You’re not wearing a jacket. Relax.

Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.

You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.

We still on for tonight darlin’? Or did you change your mind?

No worries if you did. I respect that.

You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?

You weren’t… completely against that.

Didn’t change my mind, wouldn’t in a million years :)

Meet you there. Can’t wait to see you.

His eagerness to meet up would’ve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didn’t seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.

You too, cowboy.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.

When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.

“Joel?”

Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.

“Hi,” is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. “Yes, hi, sorry. I’m Joel.”

“Hi,” you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.

“These are for you,” he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.

“Thank you, wow,” you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. “I love peonies.”

“Me too,” he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.

“Shall we?” He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasn’t normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.

You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you. 

“So, what’s a man like you doing being single in this city?” You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip. 

He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. “Been busy,” he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.

“And, well, when Sarah’s mom left there was a ton to do,” he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. “House, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasn’t been a lot of time.” His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, you’re enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.

“Sorry, that’s a lot of information for a first date,” he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasn’t fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.

“No, it’s okay,” you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.

“What’s your story?” He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can’t imagine there isn’t a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlin’.”

You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. “You have no idea the… mess that is out there,” the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. “Certainly not too many I am interested in.”

“So, is that why you’re on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?”

You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that you’d want to spend time with him. 

“You’re not that much older,” you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “And I like to try new things. Don’t you like trying new things, sometimes?”

It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ‘new’ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.

You didn’t notice. 

A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Would you want to…“ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - “come back to mine for a nightcap? I’ve got an empty house this evening.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel must’ve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart you’d say yes.

“I’d love that.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel’s home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. There’s photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brother’s family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.

“You have a beautiful home,” you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?

“Thank you,” he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.

“I did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.” He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. “I don’t really have a good eye for that type of stuff.” 

You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing it’s likely out of anxiety.

“What about upstairs?”

Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication you’re making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.

“It’s not anything,” - he clears his throat - “special,” he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar. 

You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.

“I think it’s nice,” you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.

Joel’s grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and it’s making his need for you increase tenfold. 

You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.

You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.

When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.

“You’re so big,” is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.

It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since he’d had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.

Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.

“God, darlin’,” was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.

He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasn’t being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him. 

His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.

Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.

“Joel,” you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.

His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldn’t see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.

“Fuck, Joel, please,” you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face. 

When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.

“You’re really good at that,” was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.

“Please fuck me, Joel,” you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.

He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.

He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.

“So pretty,” he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. “So pretty for me, taking my cock,” the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.

“Come inside of me,” you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.

“Are you sure?” He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.

“Yes, please, fill me up.”

You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so he’s on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.

The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before you’re back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. You’re clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.

He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.

He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.

“I guess I should get going,” you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.

A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.

“I mean, I don’t know how these things usually go,” he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. “But you don’t gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethin’.”

You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.

“Oh, um,” you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joel’s bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell he’s mentally begging that you’ll stay the night.

“I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to stay.” Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. “I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up and doing all that again tomorrow.”

You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss. 

You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.

“We should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.” you say quietly as you’re drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head. 

In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. “Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.”

[marlenesluv]

charles + over-worked uni gf (hc)

note: i personally love when im doing hw, and then i find one of these “f1 driver x uni!gf!reader” fics cuz im like “omg me and i love this driver!” so i hope, if you are in uni, that you take breaks and make sure you’re eating, drinking water, and sleeping. ik it’s easy to skip these things <3

paining: charles leclerc x uni!reader (max near the end)

warnings: fluff but it goes to smut…oops, couldn’t resist. slight exhibitionism with max (i went off topic mb)

head-cannon: charles’ gf is overworking herself in uni, and he hates seeing her so stressed out

۵ being charles’ girlfriend was incredible, you loved the fans, the races, and obviously, charles.

۵ but being in uni at the same time? that was hard. you spent races writing papers. plane rides were spent reading textbooks. and any free time? spent in person for lectures and study groups.

۵ and charles supported you. he understood if you couldn’t make a race because of a test. or if you needed time alone because the paddock was overstimulating along with your workload.

۵ like now, you were holed up in charles’ driving room during free practice in singapore because you had a lab due at 11:59pm, and the time in the corner of your laptop mocked you as the deadline grew closer and you grew more frustrated.

۵ charles hated seeing his girlfriend stressed. you should be in the paddock having fun, not nearly in tears in his drivers room :(

۵ so when he comes back from practice, he’s determined to spend the rest of the night with you.

۵ “pack up. we are going to get some takeout and i’ll help you study. then we can watch a movie, okay?” and it wasn’t even a question. he was already packing your books in your bag and throwing your pens in your pouch.

۵ charles helps you grab all your stuff, and hold the door open for you as you guys leave and say goodbye to the engineers.

۵ and although he had plans with carlos, carlos understands. everyone knows how much you study and work to get the grades you have. so no, carlos doesn’t mind when charles ditches him to cheer you up. he has isa to bother anyways.

۵ speaking of isa, she’s giving you a hug and telling you to relax tonight, enjoy spending time with your boyfriend.

۵ when you and charles got back to the hotel room with bags of takeout, charles makes a bed on the floor and puts your favorite movie on.

۵ “you didn’t need to do this, char. i know you’re busy, you have a race soon…” you would trail off, cuddling closer into his side.

۵ charles playfully rolls his eyes and kisses your head, he keeps telling you how much he loves you and would rather spend time with you than practice.

۵ he just wants you to de-stress, no matter what it takes…

۵ so yeah, as you’re watching the movie, charles might get a little bored, and he looks over and sees your cracking your knuckles, which he knows is a nervous habit of yours.

۵ the way you bit the inside of your cheek in attempt to calm down, and the only thing charles has going through his head is ‘you need to help her relax.’

۵ so when charles lifts the blanket off of you and helps you out of your sweats, who are you to question him? he knows you like the back of his hand.

۵ “come here, mon cherié.” charles lifts your hips, only to make you shimmy over his mouth. “char, i don’t want to-“

۵ he rolls his eyes, scoffing and making you put all your weight down.

۵ thirty minutes could go by and he wouldn’t even think about coming up for air, he is absolutely pussy drunk. all that he can think is making you cum over and over and over again.

۵ and obviously, the man is skilled, he knows how to use his tongue and fingers, having you absolutely melting above him. your hands shooting out to hold onto his hair for stability.

۵ you feel his laugh, making you gasp and squirm, which causes him to hold your hips tighter and go a little slower.

۵ this could go on for hours.

۵ his stamina is incredible, he works out all the time. if anything, it’s a neck workout since he’s holding his neck mid-air to meet your core.

۵ even when max calls to check up on him? nope, hes not stopping, he’s just carried you to the bed, fucking you as he’s talking to max.

۵ and charles doesn’t even care. max knows how stressed you are about uni, and he knows that charles calms you down. its not like charles hasn’t told him about a thousand times…

۵ max can hear charles’ grunts and how you’re trying to suppress your whines, the way charles pin your hand above your arm because he wanted max to know how good you felt.

۵ and after that night? yeah, you were definitely relaxed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[gor3-hound]

BARK OR BITE - TOJI FUSHIGURO

ft. toji fushiguro x fem!reader

a/n: anonymous commission :3 this is just smut oops. brat tamer toji has my whole heart and i got a lil carried away x

cw: 18+ content, daddy-daughter incest, pet play, degradation, excessive use of mutt, gagging, collaring, oral sex(m!recieving), face humping, mild scent kink, face slapping, light breath play, he's mean, creampie, orgasm denial, p in v, breeding kink

word count: 2.5k words

You've been really pissing Toji off recently. Granted, it's not the hardest thing to do, but it doesn't mean he's getting any less frustrated with your antics. You got too used to his dick, and even spanking your cute ass raw only seems to leave you dripping all over his thigh by the end of it. Sluts like you need creative punishments, but he doesn't have the strength to ignore you, not when one look from you has his cock twitching against his briefs.

You already start yapping his ear off as soon as he brings up the topic. Saying shit like "I'm an adult now, and I can do whatever the fuck I want". Unlikely, when you're still living under Toji's roof. Good thing he already has a back-up plan, specially tailored for girls like you. He shifts forward, his eyes narrowed as he looks down at you.

“One more fuckin’ word, sweetheart. I dare ya. Always wanna act like a bitch with Daddy, huh? You're gonna get fuckin’ treated like one.” He hisses, grabbing you by your hair to tug your head back harshly. “Pretty mouth like yours should only be used for one thing, but mutts like you love to bite. Daddy's gonna have to make sure ya can't.”

He snaps the collar in place first, and that's already enough to get you begging. All the 'no, daddy's and 'please, I'm sorry's in the world couldn't stop him now, not with how rapidly his cock is filling out. It's hot, almost gets him as worked up as when he squeezes that little throat with his hand. The bone gag comes next, and he even got you a pretty one, the pink leather straps matching the collar. He sees your jaw clench, and then you're tugging your face away disobediently. You're even a fucking brat being face with your punishment.

"Open." Is all he says as his free hand cups your jaw, his fingers and thumb pressing down almost painfully on your cheeks, forcing your teeth apart enough that he can manhandle the rubber of the gag between your lips before fastening the strap at the back of your head. If he thought the collar was hot, the sight of you gagged and scared has his dick leaking so much he feels like he came in his pants.

Toji can hardly ignore his pants straining as he looks at you with that bone gag in your mouth, spit sticking the rubber already as your lips stretch around it. It takes all his willpower to pull away from you to sit on the couch, his legs spread. He would love to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck the brattiness out of you, but he's starting to think his little girl loves Daddy's cock too much.

“C'mere.” He bites out, his sharp tone ringing in the room. It makes you jump a little, and that's enough to bring a smirk to his face. You can barely meet his eyes as you shift towards him, your hands hooked in front of you. You already looked embarrassed, head hung in shame. Good. You should be.

He snorts out a laugh as you go to sit next to him on the couch. He hooks a singular finger into the space between your collar and your neck, yanking you down onto the floor at his feet. “Bad girl. No mutts on the furniture.”

You look so dejected at his words, a soft whine building in your throat that has his brows frowning. He's trying to make you feel like shit, but he should have anticipated the puppy dog eyes making his heart ache. With a sigh of frustration, he pulls his cock out of his pants, tugging them down to his mid-thighs. He can see the change in you instantly - your eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas, and your body perking up.

“When did I raise such a cock-hungry slut?” He hisses, fisting his hand in your hair and pulling your face towards his crotch. He can see your confusion as you realise you're still wearing the gag, another low whine building in your throat. But this isn't about what you want - it's a punishment. And he'll be damned if he goes soft on you just because you're his little girl.

He tilts your head to the side, letting his thick shaft rest against your cheek. His thumbs move to the top of his length, pressing down so it's resting more firmly against your face as his fingers wrap around what they can of your head to hold you steady. With a low grunt, he starts to thrust his hips forward, humping your cheek.

Toji grunted as he began to rut his thick cock against your flushed cheek, smearing pre-cum over your skin. He leans down to spit a thick glob of spit onto your face before rubbing his length against it, letting out a low groan at the slick sensation. His calloused fingers tightened in your hair, keeping your face firmly pressed against his shaft as it slid lewdly across your features. The sloppy sounds of his movements filled the room, mingling with your pitiful whines around the gag stretching your lips obscenely.

"Yeah, that's it pup. Get a good whiff of Daddy's cock.” He rasped, voice thick with arousal. "Fuckin' mutt always beggin' for it. Should be grateful I'm even givin' ya this much attention after the shit you've pulled."

He punctuated his words with a harsh slap of his cockhead against your cheek, leaving a sticky streak of pre-cum across your skin. Toji drank in the sight of you - flushed and drooling around the gag, hair dishevelled from his brutal grip, eyes glassy with need. A deep rumble of approval rolled through his chest as he drank in your desperate form.

"Such a needy lil' bitch. Can't even go a day without wantin' Daddy to breed that tight pussy, can ya?" His hips snap forward, the thick shaft of his cock sliding across your spread lips. "Keep beggin' mutt, maybe if ya convince me enough I'll let ya taste it later.”

That seems to get you going, muffled please spilling from your gagged mouth as he coats your lips in pre-cum, using you as nothing more than a toy to hump for him to get off. His eyes are dark as he watches you, his breath growing a little shallow as he stares down at your desperate, ruined face.

"Fuckin' hell..." He growled under his breath, voice low and gravelly. "Ya really are just a cock-starved lil' mutt, ain't ya pup?"

With a harsh yank, he pulled your face flush against his crotch, hearing your sharp inhale as his thick, heady musk assaults your senses. Toji groaned shamelessly at the sight of you, his hips giving an involuntary buck forward.

"Look at ya, beggin' for Daddy's cock like the needy bitch ya are." He sneers, though his taunts only seemed to spur your desperation further, your whines rising in pitch.

Toji's free hand trailed down the line of throat, thumb digging in just enough to make your breath hitch. He drank in every little reaction, committing each of them to memory. With a rumbling chuckle, he finally pulled back enough to let his aching length hang free, twitching helplessly against your face.

"You're lucky Daddy's feelin' generous enough today to give ya a taste." He murmurs, reaching out to unbuckle the gag and let it fall, the wave of drool that was collecting on your tongue spilling past your lips. He rubs the length of his cock along the mess before slotting into your mouth with a moan.

Toji let out a deep, rumbling groan as he finally slotted the thick length of his dick between your drool-slicked lips. Your cheeks hollowed instinctively, tongue lapping at the underside of his shaft in a desperate attempt to please him. You really were a natural cocksucker. He was sure you were never happier than when you had a dick buried in your throat - except for when your tight cunt was stuffed.

"That's it pup, get a good taste..." He rasped, hips canting forward to feed you more of his thick cock. "Been too fuckin' lenient with ya lately."

His free hand slid up to grip the back of your skull, holding you in place as he began to rock his hips in a lazy rhythm. Each thrust buried his cock deeper down your convulsing throat, making you gag and splutter.

"Look at ya... chokin' on Daddy's fat dick already. Can't even take it properly without gaggin' like a bitch." He grunts, emerald eyes glinting with sadistic hunger as he watches you struggle.

With a harsh grunt, Toji pulls you forward until your nose meets the hair at the base of his cock, letting his length rest heavy on your tongue for several beats. He relished the way your throat constricted around him, desperate little moans vibrating along his shaft in a way that made his balls tighten.

"That's it pup... gonna use this fuckin' sleeve 'til I'm nice and ready to breed ya like the needy lil' mutt ya are.”

You desperately try to suck in a breath as he breaches your throat, swallowing around his length to try and adjust to the intrusion. Your hands reach up to attempt to claw at his thighs, tears stinging your eyes.

Toji's grip on your hair tightened as you gagged around his thick cock, your delicate fingers scrabbling uselessly against his muscular thighs. A low, rumbling chuckle reverberated in his chest at the sight, his lips curling into a cruel smirk.

"That's it, pup. Choke on Daddy's dick like the fuckin’ whore ya are." His hips rolled forward in a slow, punishing rhythm, relentlessly burying his shaft to the hilt in your convulsing throat.

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, your vision swimming as you fought against the urge to black out from lack of air. But Toji didn't relent, holding you in place with an iron grip until your struggles weakened, your body growing pliant under his unyielding assault.

"Fuckin' knew ya couldn't handle it." He growls, voice thick with arousal as he pulled you off his cock with a wet pop, leaving you coughing and gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting your mouth to his leaky tip.

With an almost predatory grin, Toji drags you up by the collar, his eyes glinting with wicked intent as he manhandles you onto the couch beside him, reaching down to yank your shorts off your body. Your legs spread on instinct, drawing a soft chuckle from Toji as he gazes down at your glistening folds.

“You want Daddy to make ya feel good, sweetheart?” He coos, his voice sickly sweet as he slides a thumb between your folds from your clit to your entrance, dipping it in for a moment before pulling his hand back.

“Such a silly pup - dumb little girl thinks her old man is gonna be all sweet to her after she's been a brat all week. Poor thing. Your puppy brain can't think right, hmm? Just wants to make sure you're stuffed full at times.”

“You’re nothin’ more than a breedin’ bitch, made to take daddy’s cock.” He grunts as he grips your hips, flipping you over and pressing down on your upper back so your face is pressed against the cushions, ass up in the air for him. His jaw clenches as he presses his tip into your cunt, thrusting shallowly.

“Dad, daddy. Please-” You're cut off by two of his thick fingers forcing themselves past your lips, the pads pressing down on your tongue and making you gag.

“Dirty fuckin’ mutts like you don't speak. I made this pussy, and I'll decide when she gets filled.”

You whine as he slips out of you completely, shifting to rub his cock between your slick folds instead, groaning as you coat him in your arousal.

“Gonna breed that tight little puppy cunt.” He grits out, pulling your face up by the jaw, giving your cheek a couple of light taps until the skin starts to warm before drawing his hand back and giving you one harsh smack, grinning at the yelp you let out. “Cute.”

He sinks to the hilt in your cunt, slipping his fingers out of your mouth to grab the back of your head, shoving it into the couch cushions. His pace is relentless, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the room as he rocks into you desperately.

“Dad-” You croak out, voice muffled as you try and pull away from his thrusts, your hands pressing against the sofa in an attempt to lift yourself up slightly. “Daddy. S'too much…”

“Too much?” He repeats, scoffing slightly as he presses you further into the couch, his free hand shifting to your hip to hold you steady with a bruising grip. “You're gonna take every inch, and you're gonna be grateful for ‘em.”

“You're mine to use however I like, pup. I don't take complaints, not from filthy little mutts like you. You're gonna want to shut that mouth of yours, pup, or I'll give ya somethin’ better to do with it.” He grits out, grinding his cock deep into you, the tip bruising your cervix.

He can feel you clenching around him, your walls fluttering as your climax builds, making him clench his jaw. He hesitates before pulling out, fisting his length as his own release builds. “You were a bad girl, y'think Daddy's gonna let you cum?” He scoffs, ignoring your pleading and whimpering.

He keeps stroking himself as your tremors fade, tears streaming down your cheeks as the heat in your stomach dissipates, leaving you needy and twitching in front of him. He hisses as he feels his balls tighten, dropping his head as he fucks his fist faster.

“Still gonna breed that needy cunt. All you're good for, huh? Daddy's little breeder, made to take his fuckin’ loads.” He groans, slipping inside of you once more, thrusting twice before stilling inside for you, thick ropes of cum filling you up.

He huffs out a deep breath before pulling out of you, flopping back against the couch. He looks over at you after a moment, patting his thigh. “C'mere, baby. Come.”

He waits until you settle on his lap, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. He softly wipes the tears away with his thumbs before drawing you in close, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

“Daddy's good girl. Took it like a champ, baby. Take a nap, yeah? I got ya.” He murmurs, his hand running up and down your back. He holds you tight against his body, his hand never easing up on rubbing the tension from your back until you pass out in his arms, cuddled up against his chest.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The speaker drones lowly, your playlist cycling through your most listened. You fall into your routine. You always liked cooking. It was always comforting. Your grandmother taught you all her favourite recipes whenever you came around. The familiar aromas bring back what can never truly be. 

You split the squash with a large knife, the thunk jarring you. You might not be the safest person in the kitchen but you’ve yet to do worse than a few nicks. You gut the seeds from inside and scoop in a heap of butter and brown sugar, then drizzle the rest with maple syrup. You’ll bake that while you work on the roast. 

The back door clatters and makes you flinch. Somehow, you almost forgot. That needling presence never really fades completely but you felt somewhat normal. 

You listen as Bucky lingers at the back door. He appears in the kitchen door as you look over. His grey jacket is streaked in dirt and his hands are similarly filthy. You give him a curious squint. 

“Got rid of that dead stump. Rot’s not good to keep around,” he explains. 

“Oh, right, you... wait? How did you do that? I was supposed to borrow Ian’s axe--” 

“Don’t need an axe,” he wiggles his vibranium fingers at you. “Gonna wash up. Anything I can help out with in here?” 

“Think I’m good,” you assure him, “I’m almost done.” 

“Mm, smells good,” he glances the pan of squash. 

“Hope so,” you reply. 

He watches you a moment before he turns away. His footsteps echo after him and fade into the soft music. You carry on, putting quartered onions and garlic cloves round the cut of meat. You baste and season, then put it all in the stove. 

You gather up the peels and seeds into your hands and head down the hall to toss it all in the compost. You get to the back door and clamour through, dumping it all into the barrel. You dust your hands off before you head inside. 

You didn’t notice the open door before. You’re slightly embarrassed as you glance over and catch Bucky lathering up his hands in the sink. You quickly flit away without another look. Oops. 

Cramped quarters are bound to get awkward but you hadn’t expected that sight. Bucky, shirtless, focused on his hands as he scrubbed away the dirt. You can see it vividly as you try not to think of it.  

The tortured flesh around his left shoulder, trimming the dark metal of his prosthetic, his other arm as hard as the other, firm and rounded with muscle. His chest full and just as taut, though his middle was softer. The little bit that stuck out over his pants and the extra layer of padding up his stomach filled him out, though there was strength woven into his entire body. 

You shake your head and swallow. You wipe down the counter and rinse off the used dishes and cutlery. You busy yourself and do your best to forget. 

You open the fridge and take out a bottle of sparkling water. You close it and nearly cry out as Bucky stands behind the door. He reaches up to grip the top of the fridge. He wears a fresh ribbed tank top, his arm flexing as he looms over you. 

“Mind grabbing me a beer, please and thanks.” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” you open the door again and take out a bottle of beer.  

“Sorry?” He echoes as the fridge closes with a nudge of your elbow, “for what?” 

“Um, nothing, just, didn’t hear you, I guess.” 

“Ah, so it’s not that Canadian thing you do?” 

“Canadian thing?” 

“You apologised for tripping earlier.” He shrugs as he accepts the beer. 

“Oh? Habit, maybe. I didn’t notice.” 

He chortles, “you know, I served with some Canadians. Good soldiers. They always show up.” 

“Wow, I... makes sense... my great grandfather served. Came back and drove a truck after,” you say. “My grandmother talked about him a lot but I was too young to remember him before he passed.” 

“Sorry,” he says, “ha, there I go, huh? Or is it eh?” You give him a look. He uncaps his beer and arches a brow. “What’s that for?” 

“What?” You wonder. 

“That look? Sam did say you could be a bit... never mind.” 

“He said I could be a bit what?” You twist of the plastic lid of your flavoured water. 

“Nothing, he always says shit, you know? Tells everybody I’m a grumpy old man. I’m old and I’m tired, not grumpy,” he insists as he leans on the counter and drinks his beer. As he does, he lifts his vibranium hand and picks at his thumb with the index. “Mm,” he pulls his lips off the neck, “you got a cuticle stick or something? This damn thing collects dirt like a broom.” 

“I might have something. Got Q-Tips,” you offer. 

“Whatever you got. I should probably clean this thing before dinner,” he says. 

“Sure, let me just go look.” 

You put your water down and squeeze past him. He doesn’t shy away, crowding you as you pass him. You don’t know if he’s just not paying attention or what.  

You go down to the bathroom and pull out the drawer. You wince as something rolls against the front. Shit. You really hope he wasn’t looking around already. You reach inside and take out the suction toy you shove it up your sleeve. Would he know what the silicon rose was? 

You search around and find a nail kit. You bought it thinking you were going to go camping but that never happened. Maybe next year. 

You dip into your room and tuck the silicon toy on the bookshelf then head back to the kitchen. You hand him the small case. “Brand new. You can keep it.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he accepts it, wiggling it between his fingers, “I’ll just go... take care of this.” 

He drinks again from his beer and sidles through the doorway next to you. You slip through and retreat to the stove as warmth blooms around it. Is it the cooking that’s making you sweat or something else? 

[dabiloveln]

☆‧₊˚🎤✩ ₊˚🎸⊹♡✮˚｡𖦹 °✩ | part THREE❕finally ❕

being Fuyumi’s bestie and Touya’s girlfriend headcanons !! [ everyone is ooc ]

[ you are Fuyumi’s co-worker teacher and Touya is a rockstar ]

[ weeks later ] “sooo… will you be my girlfriend?” Touya asked you while he nervously walked from side to side in his room and waited for your answer through his phone. “Yeah… i mean… why not !!”

you agreed to help him with his upcoming solo project and to be a part of his music video as a “girlfriend” for his character, like you know, with the most basic storyline

[ the day the music video was released] You were sitting next to Touya looking at the screen and reading the comments and GOD it was so embarrassing you turned red, Fuyumi sat behind and was laughing at both of you

[ some comments under the music video ] they’re like a real couple :0 / OMG ? WHO IS SHE ? TOUYA GIVE US HER NAME / uhmm… i know they’re just pretending to be a couple but the way he looks at her…. i’m jealous / THE KISS SCENE DUDEEEEE / oh imagine if they’re dating oops / and more…

“Damnn… who knew we would look so good as a couple huh?” Touya said rewatching the mv once again, “and stop blushing, i’m just teasing, or not” he winked at you.

[ 01:17 ] You were walking home accompanied by him, discussing every topic possible, his further music plans, your work, his family, then laughing at cringe moments you remembered from filming the music video

he walked beside you and you glanced at him and GOD he was so gorgeous. under the moonlight his turquoise eyes looked even prettier than usual, his white hair and shiny piercings, literally everything about him was mesmerizing

as you reached your home you both stood awkwardly, not wanting to separate from each other and asking each other dumb questions just to talk more 😭

“uhmm… y/n, aren’t you having a day off tomorrow? maybe we can walk a bit more? if you’re okay with that, of course” minutes later you both reached the nearest beach

you both slowly walked by the shore admiring the beautiful view you had there “we should have filmed the kiss scene here” he was teasing you again but damn, you wished he wasn’t

once you were tired Touya sat on the sand, putting his jacket next to him for you to sit on it. you didn’t know what made you feel so nervous. maybe you were just cold? or maybe the feeling of something bad coming?

“y/n… i got to tell you something, but promise me you won’t beat the shit out of me okay? i mean you can, but please do not, hah” he was looking away from you, his voice sounded shaky, you never saw him so nervous before. “sure”

he made himself comfortable turning to you: “you know… i’m not really serious when it comes to flirting or teasing, i’m actually very bad at these things, call me a loser if you want. i’m so used of being alone and distant from people, not counting my family though, but it’s not about them. i never had close friends, or lovers or anything like that, i just… didn’t care about it. maybe i just wanted to think so, but then there’s you in my house, being so sweet and kind to a guy who barely speaks to you, showing me your interest in my music and becoming someone who’s willing to help me… even if it’s just dying my hair hah, you feel so comfortable to be around with. Every time we spend time together i find myself craving for more and more… like what the heck? i never was serious but i am right now. i actually suck at this game, i’m so unromantic and stupid, but… y/n. i like you, i REALLY do. it feels like you’re the only one i’m not scared to be open with. and i want you to feel the same about me… i know i can’t force you but i just-” he couldn’t finish his speech as you shut him up with a kiss.

you both confessed your feelings that night. “so, will you be my girlfriend? oh shit, wait, no… will you let me be your man?” Touya held your hands.

he even told you he enjoyed reading the comments about how good you two look together ;)

he proudly called you a rockstar girlfriend when you started dating (his dream came true) even in front of his family

they already know you as Fuyumi’s colleague and friend, but they just like you even more now 🥺 mama Rei treats you as her second daughter and always asks you to stay overnight, Enji is like… as always (but deep down this man felt actually glad his son is happy with the right person)

you were added to the family chat !!

Touya decided it would be better if you both kept your relationship as a secret, at least your identity. your safety was his responsibility and he doesn’t want jealous fans bother you

THIS MAN SPOILS YOU SO MUCH 🤚🏻 you want to see your favorite band? he will get you the best VIP tickets. you mentioned that one black dress that caught your attention? check your wardrobe the next day. you never needed anything for him, but he was taught to take care of the loved ones (mama Rei and Fuyumi give him the best advices)

COUPLE PIERCINGS with the matching accessories is a must.

of course you’ve got the endless free pass ticket for his concerts, and of course he sings the songs which were written inspired by the relationship while searching for you in the crowd

bonus:

[months later]

Touya is lying on your chest holding you tightly while you’re caressing his head and playing with his now dyed black strands of hair. You’ve moved into your own apartment recently and nights like this one are usual. Both tired of work just spending quiet hours together.

Touya speaks softly, “you know, lately i’ve been thinking about what would be if we never spoke. i’d probably still be in my room rotting lonely..,” he looks up at you, “but i’m glad i don’t have to worry about it when i can feel your touch in moments like now”

little did you know he already knows your finger size and he’s planning to spend the rest of his life with his little rockstar.

guys i’m so sorry for taking so long with part three, but i hope you like it even a little bit 🤍 thank you for reading !! i’m not a writer at all but i really wanted to make this a thing and bring some delusions hah (if there are mistakes please forgive me)

part one part two

taglist: @sikuthealien @briethekitsune @cici-sunshine @moonchild701 @greenmanshoe @miikalias @ravenredwine

[fadingdaggerr]

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin���s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

[boringsickness]

thinking of Tim taking Bernard to a family dinner, the first official one after Bernard discovered who was who. The first one where Bernard could see their honest sides.

Tim is a bit worried because he knows his family. Yes, they bickered but in previous dinners they tried to be as civil as possibile. Treating it like a mission or a formal Gala, to avoid scaring Tim's new boyfriend.

But now Bernard wasn't so /new/ anymore and they didn't need to act like a perfect (as perfect as they can be) family.

Bernard spoke a little with all of them, holding Tim's hand for almost all the time before the meal was served. Then, the chaos started and Bernard couldn't put a word in. He didn't even want to.

He let his eyes wander: Babs was laughing softly with Dick who was making faces at her girlfriend while simultaneously teasing Damian. Duke was rolling his eyes or blinking perplexed at one of weird Jason's fact. Tim was butting in, escalating the situation just for the sake of going against Jason. Stephanie, who loved some good old chaos, added fuel to the already going fire and Cass was looking fondly around the table. Sometimes she shared a glance with Babs who was now rolling her eyes and taking bets with Duke in how long the dinner will transform in a battlefield. Bruce chimed in a few times when Tim touched a few sensitive topics or when Jason cursed way too loudly (Alfred did not like that) or when Dick was about to ruffle Damian's hair or...a lot more than "a few", now Bernard realized.

and in all of this, Bernard couldn't help but stare at his boyfriend. He knew a lot about him but this side, this wild and free one, was particularly enjoyable. It was a mix of pettiness, adrenaline, fondness and bitterness. It was the result of years of conflict and battles shared with his family. It was difficult for Bernard to describe it but it could now see it all, in his boyfriend's body language and in the others', too.

They were yelling at each other, they were insulting and laughing and they were still able to stay in the room as if it was normal. Normal after more than a few deaths, attempts of murders and criminal activity (in stopping and creating them.)

Bernard suddenly found happiness, and maybe a little bit of envy (he wished his family was so united, even in craziness), bubble up and get out in form of a pure and loud laugh.

Tim stopped mid sentence, turning toward him. The arguments seemed to cease, too, while other members of the family looked at Bernard with confusion (not Cass, Cass and Duke seemed to know what was happening).

"Bernard, baby?"

Tim looked unsure and Bernard fought off another round of laughters. He raised one hand as if shooing away the worry.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm just happy to see all of this unfold." He shrugged, almost embarassed.

He could now understand how crazy it sounded which rude, have they heard themselves?

Damian muttered something and Jason simply said "blondie is surely made for you" (Bernard was not sure how to take it) but most importantly, beside the fond and confused and even perplexed looks of the others, Tim looked at him with a soft smile. Then, he laughed too. It was smaller, more private, as if it just for him.

and it was because Tim got it, he always knew about what was going on in Bernard's mind.

"weirdo." Tim said, fondness more than palpable.

"y'know I'm at dinner with your family, right?" and he was grinning, not caring about the consequences of the sentence since said family was looking at them.

He heard a soft "hey!" and a bunch of arguing (not surprisingly) and some scoffing and a lot, so much more, noises.

"oops?" Bernard added, toward him who was now sitting back down (he stood up before, caught up in a petty fight with Jason) and took his hand to leave a peck on the back of it.

"menace." Tim whispered, on his skin, but Bernard could easily understand what he meant.('i love you.')

Bernard used the free hand to cup his cheek, the others' voices now just a background.

('I love you, too.')

[rockgodklav]

Klavier, where he was kneeling down to be able to re-bandage Apollo's arms comfortably, snickered. Thankfully, he behaved like the other Klavier, odd quirks (if you can call them that) aside.

"You.. are quite amusing, Herr Forehead." This was much more like Klavier than the implied threats.

He hesitated, looking at Apollo's hand and the bodied bandage. he tossed the bandage.

"Well. Achtung, I'm already helping, nein? What trouble would it be to do what I can? I'm sure you don't have the time to undo my work to clean your wounds later on, ja." He did continued to look at Apollo's cut-free hand. "You seem to be busy with more pressing matters anyway. Hm."

It's only speculation, Klavier knows, but he can't help wondering if his discovery could lead to something bigger.

Loading. . .

> For: Murderpollo > Crossover scenario, if the mod is interested.

Scarlet Noise AU Successfully Downloaded!

"....Hase? You.."

"Ach, wait. You're not my Apollo. You're.. different, ja. A pleasure to meet you, then."

"..."

[For a moment, Apollo remains silent, staring rather intently at Klavier. It seems that, perhaps, he's perceiving..? Whatever the case is, his face relaxes a little eventually, before he starts to talk.]

"...Not your Apollo, huh? Well, you're acting a bit odd compared to the Prosecutor Gavin I'm used to, so... that makes enough sense."

(It seems crazy, but... a lot of weird crap has happened recently. I can accept... whatever you'd call this situation.)

[Even though it doesn't seem like he's actively perceiving anything, Apollo is continuing to eye him in what is seemingly anticipation.]

[wannabanauthor]

The little nuances of BuckTommy always gets to me. I’ve rewatched their first kiss scene nearly everyday. Seriously, it’s my bedtime routine to watch it multiple times before going to bed.

Anyway

It takes pictures of that scene for me to realize how fucking scared and terrified Tommy was after their first kiss. He’s able to exhale, but the look on his face was so serious and scared. He knew what a huge risk it was to kiss Buck (known womanizer who used to have sex in the fire engine), but he did it anyway. He didn’t even have a hint of a smile until Buck says “yeah, that works”. Then he smile slightly and asks if the kiss was okay because he can’t help but feel giddy.

I do love that Tommy likes to pretend to be the overt confident one, and it works for Buck because he believes it without a second thought. But seeing Tommy’s confidence shaken for a few seconds was gold to me! It makes him human and endearing. It also illustrates that even though he’s been out and around the block a few times, there’s still that fear that even in LA (a city that pretends to be progressive yet is trying to get rid of homeless people for the Olympics), he could be in danger of homophobia. Yet he thinks and is correct that he’s collected enough evidence to prove that Buck is into him, yet it’s still a leap.

I love Tommy Kinard so much.

Now onto his soulmate, Evan Buckley:

Nearly every single scene or moment before the first kiss, Buck is smiling at Tommy.

In the helicopter, smiling at Tommy.

After Bathena is reunited, Buck is touching Tommy and smiling at him.

During the tour, lots of smiling.

During the basketball scene when they chat at the beginning, Buck is smiling so hard at Tommy. The way he smiles so big when Tommy fist bumps him, and the way his eyes follow Tommy onto the basketball court. God, Buck was crushing so hard.

Even when Tommy showed up to the loft to talk to him, Buck’s first expression (or one of the firsts) was elation. He got Tommy’s attention. Sure, he showed up to Buck’s home unannounced, but Buck was internally happy. He tried to play it off like it was nothing and tried to act surprised, but secretly he was like “yes, I’ve gotten his attention”, but then there was the confused look when he closed the door.

His expression of “I wanted this so badly, but now that he’s here I don’t know what to do” but good thing Tommy had a conversation topic on mind and a schedule to keep.

I swear, sometimes, I think Tommy plans for his interactions with Buck to be kept short so he can seem even more cool when he has to leave. I’m totally not projecting my own method of flirting of “hey look at all the cool plans I have, don’t you want to spend time with me”.

Back to the point:

Even after the kiss, Buck was elated again when Tommy asked him out. His face was so pure and excited when he said “Yes, I’m free”. He finally got what he wanted, and he wanted it even after the kiss. He was ready to be Tommy’s one and only.

Actually, Buck reminds me of that shark post of when lemon sharks get jealous of tiger sharks who befriend the lemon shark’s human scuba diver friend. Idk if it’s actually true about sharks, but that is clearly Evan Buckley coded. Let me find that picture…

Yep, this is definitely Evan Buckley when it comes to Tommy 🤣

I don’t even remember what my original point of this post was, oops.

[toxic3mmy]

being like all bratty ( i think that’s the word) and all to Quackity and he ends up fucking the shit out of you?

ummm yes??? this sounds sooooo hot teehee, thx for the request!!

[it turned out a little more loving than rough sex.. oops??]

prompt: you and alex have a project due and he keeps slacking off until he’s had enough of your bratty attitude

warnings: nsfw! smut smutty smuttt!

it was finally 7:30 pm. alex said he would meet you at the college library to finish up your project after work and you had been waiting on him there for almost an hour now. the good thing was that you were alone and had time to focus on your part of the slideshow.

you had about two slides left when you heard a huge thud on the table you were sat at. you looked up and saw alex smiling sheepishly at you.

“sup nerd, you almost done with our project?” he said as he sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up to rest on the table

you rolled your eyes and said with an annoyed face,

“yeah right, come on let’s get this over with already” you grumbled

“actually, shit… i forgot my laptop” alex said while looking through his backpack. he looked up at you and asked

“mind if i go get it? i’m pretty sure i left it at my house and it’s not far from here” he didn’t even wait for me to respond, already collecting his things to go

“wait, maybe we should just do the project at yours… they close the library in thirty minutes anyways” you said, feeling even more annoyed than before because now you were going to be forced to be alone with alex

“cool, let’s go” he walked out of the school and to his car in the parking lot

you felt a bit uncomfortable and nervous as you got into his passenger seat. you weren’t sure why but his very existence got so deep under your skin that it really pissed you off. maybe it was his arrogant personality or maybe it was the way every girl at your college drooled over him, or maybe it was both. the truth is, you also felt an attraction for alex but you refused to be like every other brainless bimbo at school. you liked to think that you actually had taste when it came to guys.

your thoughts were interrupted by alex parking his car and getting out, having you follow him. he unlocked the door to his house and let you in. he got comfortable and led you into an office like room where you assumed he did his homework and probably his streaming. he had a huge desk with a pc setup as well as note taking materials next to the pc. there was also a small couch and that’s where you decided to put your backpack.

“here, i’ll go get a chair for you to sit next to me” alex broke the silence between you too. you nodded silently and took all your notes out to finally finish this project.

“sit” he said as he placed another office chair next to his fancy gamer chair

you chuckled to yourself

“what?” he asked, genuinely confused

“oh nothing… just realized you have a gamer chair.. it’s so uwu of you” you teased him and laughed even louder

“says the one that dresses like an e girl with all those fishnets and eyeliner” he said mockingly

“don’t even! i know you’re not judging my clothing choices when you legit always look like adam sandler plus that stupid beanie you never take off”

“can you shut up? we have a project to work on” alex said in a sarcastic manner

you didn’t say anything in response to him. instead, you went over what you had finished with your part of the project. you then kept talking about some ways for alex to tie his part into yours so that it would all flow seamlessly. you were pointing out certain topics in your textbook when you look up to see alex typing away on his phone.

“dude… are you serious? i was over here talking to the fucking wall i guess! were you seriously not listening to me?”

he simply put a finger up as if telling you to wait for him to finish texting. you waited impatiently and after a few minutes, he finally put down his phone.

“my bad, i have this thing i’ve been working on with team members for our twitch.. but uh yeah of course i heard everything you said.” he lied and it made anger begin to boil up inside of you.

“how much do you even have done?” you asked, trying to calm yourself down

“oh uh.. i have all my pictures set up in the powerpoint” he said as if it were something to be proud about

you grit your teeth together as you realized what he meant by that

“you haven’t even started on your section?? i cannot believe you…” you groaned really annoyed now

“yes i have started! it’s not my fault that i need to do work stuff in my free time” he said as he messed with a pen on his desk

“ohhh, you have a twitch event that you’ve been working on for weeks? aw thats so cool, yeah i seriously don’t give a fuck. you had all semester and you don’t even care! it’s our senior year and uni is something that we need to take seriously i mean this counts towards our final! i don’t want to have to fucking repeat this class just because you’re a careless arrogant selfish piece of shit!”

“woah woah, what the fuck is your issue?!” he began to lose his cool, sitting up and facing towards you as he raised his voice

“you’re my problem! like dude i get that you play your little video games on stream and that seems to be what you worry about most but i actually want to get a good career and i actually care about my grades! unlike you! you think that just because everyone likes you, you’ll get everything handed to you. well sorry to burst your bubble but clicking and clacking on your keyboard all day long isn’t going to prepare you for the real world!”

“who the fuck do you think you are? you have no right to say any of this to me, are you kidding?” alex was now standing up and towering over you

“look… i just had a bad day okay? i worked really early this morning and i honestly would much rather be in bed right now than arguing with you i mean, we’re not even getting any work done! god this is pointless..” you sighed, running your hands through your hair as you felt afraid to look alex in his eyes

“i worked today too, ya know. but you don’t see me being so prissy and uptight about a damn project that won’t even matter in a year.”

“yeah well im sure my work was way more productive and hard than you playing dumb computer games all day”

“listen you little brat, you have no right to tell me anything about my career choices. and for the record, my dumb little twitch job is making me more money each month than youd ever see after years of whatever boring fucking corporate job you get into” alex said, holding you tightly by your t shirt

“yeah fucking right. you’re just a lazy idiot! all you had to do was finish a few slides and we’d be through here and you can’t even do that. i’m leaving, thanks for nothing” you spit out angrily as you hastily began to pack your things to leave

alex was silently in deep thought. as you reached the door, he tugged your backpack back and off of your shoulder. he grabbed you rather harshly and your back was pushed up against his bedroom door.

“you’re not going anywhere. you think you can just walk out of here after insulting me and being a shitty little brat?!”

“what?..” you asked quietly

“you heard me y/n, you’re being a fucking brat.. and brats should be treated the way they deserve” he spoke hotly against your lips before leaning forward and kissing you

you weren’t prepared for him to kiss you so sweetly. you practically melted against his lips. you kissed back until he whimpered and brought you back to reality.

“ugh! get off of me, asshole!” you pushed his chest roughly but before you could make any other move, he caught your arm

“i know you want me y/n, i see the way you look at me. you and every other girl at school are just so thirsty for me huh? look at these tiny skirts you always wear.. you’re just asking for it” he smirked as his fingers danced up your thigh and touched your skirt

“ha! i don’t want you. unlike the girls at school, i have a brain and i sure as fuck would never touch you” you lied to his face

you gasped and felt your face go red as his hand was now touching the fabric of your panties

“then why are you soaking wet for me?” he chuckled as he pulled your panties aside and played with your wet folds

he walked you towards his bed, sitting you down as he hovered over you.

“i fucking hate you!” you angrily smashed your lips to his.

your tongue slid across his lips, asking for entrance. alex greedily let your tongue slide against his. your hands tangled in his hair and tugged harshly as he continued to touch you.

“i hate you too, you fucking brat. now be a good girl and taked this top off for me” his lips connected with yours as you shakily unbuttoned your school top and threw it aside.

you reached out and began to unzip his pants just enough to release his hardened cock. he moaned at the contact and continued to play with your slick heat as you started to move your hands up and down his dick.

he pulled away from the kiss and pulled your hair in a ponytail with one hand and held your palm upwards with his other.

“spit” he demanded and you did what he asked

he then moved your wet hand to his cock and let go of your hair. he went back to rubbing your throbbing clit. you moved your hand and he was practically thrusting into your touch.

“alex… please” you whispered and tried to lead his leaking dick to your pussy but alex stopped you

“aw come on y/n, you can do better than that. you just love to yap and insult me, don’t you, you little brat? why don’t you put that pretty little mouth of yours to good use and beg for me. beg me to fuck you”

at this point, you needed him so badly and you didn’t care how desperate you looked as you complied with his demands.

“please alex, i need you so badly. please just fuck me and i promise to be nicer to you. im so wet for you..” you moaned out as his fingers finally stopped teasing you and entered your quivering hole

“tell me you want me.. tell me y/n” he said in a lustful voice, his fingers curling deeper into you. his lips attached to one of your hard nipples, deliciously tracing circles with the tip of his tongue

“oh fuck.. i n-need you, i want you alex! i’ve wanted you since i first saw you! i hate you so much but i want you to fuck me, please!” you were rutting against his hand needing more

he laughed as he was amused and feeling very satisfied with your response. he stopped touching you completely and undressed himself. he then reached out and stripped you of your shirt and panties, leaving the two of you completely naked.

“you’re so fucking sexy” he said, looking at you hungrily

“get on your hands and knees, show me that pretty ass”

you did what he asked needing him inside of you now. he groaned at the sight of your round ass on view for him. as he pushed himself inside of you, you arched your back from pleasure. he began to move slowly as you adjusted to the stretch. the second you started moaning, he grabbed your hips and mercilessly pounded into you.

“fuck! you’re so tight y/n” his hand made harsh contact with a loud smack on your ass

you fucked back onto his cock, feeling so overcome with pleasure

“a-alex, ‘m so close” you whimpered

he stopped fucking into you and sat up in his bed. he gently tugged you towards him, motioning to sit on his lap

“come ride me, sweetheart” he said huskily and of course, you obliged

you sat on his dick, feeling every inch of him fill you up. you were in complete bliss as you began to ride him slowly. alex leaned forward and hugged you to his body as he kissed your lips. you fought his tongue with yours for dominance as the two of you rocked together in a sweet rhythm.

“you feel so good… so so good alexis” you whispered in broken sobs

“yeah, baby girl? aw just look at you. you’re so needy for me aren’t you?”

you rocked your hips, grinding his cock into you. he was so deep inside of you and you couldn’t help but want more. he hit just the right spot inside of your needy cunt and you moaned loudly. your back arched as you threw your head back in pure bliss. alex kissed up your neck as he had full access. he pulled you closer to him, tucking your hair behind your ear gently

“you’re so beautiful y/n, i could do this forever. would you like that? would you like to be my fuck toy? i could use you whenever i please, yeah? tell me how good i feel, hermosa” he said as he looked into your eyes.

“you feel incredible.. you’re making me feel things i’ve never felt before.. please use me whenever” you said breathlessly

“such a good girl” alex praised, kissing you ever so gently as you continued to move at the same pace together

“a-alex, i’m so close”

“cum with me y/n, cum with me” he whimpered, letting out the sweetest whines and speeding his hips to meet yours

he held your hips still as he fucked into you faster and faster, chasing both of your highs

with loud gasps and moan, you both climax together.

alex slows his pace to a stop and you both catch your breath.

“y/n…?”

“yeah?” you breathe out, finally getting off of alex and laying down next to him

“i finished my part of the project yesterday, i just wanted to mess with you” he grinned and you smacked him playfully

“alex! you ass!”

“hey.. it worked out well for us didn’t it?” he smiled innocently

“come on, let’s shower. im all sweaty” alex says, pulling you up and towards his shower