#i'm just doing yoga things without calling it yoga.

[blackwaxidol]

i've been spending a lot of time being horizontal or otherwise not in a position you can classify as "on my feet" recently but i am spending so much of it stretching or contorting or otherwise rotating like a gas station hotdog that i am at least beating the deep vein thrombosis allegations.

[thelostconsultant]

Invisible string

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Red Bull Racing has a new sponsor. You host a party as the head of that company to celebrate this agreement. Max has no choice but to attend, but the evening ends with a pleasant surprise after he meets you in person. Maybe he was wrong about you all along.

note: I'm everything but a scientist. If you are one, please, ignore the amount of inaccuracies. There must be a lot.

part two

“You're insane,” Robert told you for the hundredth time that day when he arrived at your place, although every time there was a little laugh accompanying the comment.

Maybe he was right. Deciding to spend over three hundred million dollars on sponsoring an F1 team did sound insane, but he did agree to do it, and you signed the contract together. Sure, sixty percent of the company was yours, it was mainly your call, but he was still your mentor.

But he didn't stand in your way, he knew how passionate you were about this sport, and your biotech company could use the PR and marketing opportunities that came with this partnership. And let's not forget about the political aspect, because there were lots of important people who loved the sport and supported a top team like Red Bull Racing.

Your assistant came up to you to ask a few questions, but once she was gone, you folded your arms and stuck out your tongue at Robert. “You’re just jealous because it was my idea. Jokes aside, it's a good thing. F1 comes to the US so many times these years, it's good to be a big sponsor of a top team. Have you seen what kind of people attend the races? Exactly who we need to charm.”

“You never had an issue with charming people without such a big investment,” he noted with a sigh.

You bit your lower lip and turned away to look out into the backyard that was by now full of party decorations. You wanted to celebrate the announcement with an elegant party at your place, and you invited board members, top employees, some important people to schmooze with, and people from the newly sponsored F1 team.

“We need some legislation changes to kickstart the new project, you know that,” you told him eventually when you turned back to him. “I wish we could afford to be patient, but we need to launch it as soon as we can.”

Robert put a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezed it. “You stress too much about that. Take it easy,” he said.

Easier said than done, but you didn't want to continue this conversation. “I need to get rid of my yoga pants and change into something red, so make yourself at home as usual,” you told him with a smile before rushing away.

“Oh, so you're still a Ferrari fan, aren't you?” he called after you, bringing up the elephant in the room.

With a laugh, you came to a halt and spinned on your heels to face him again. “Yeah, and my favorite team is a joke at the moment. This was purely a business decision.”

Max did his research. Well, it was mostly the team handing out dossiers about the host and her business partner, along with a couple of other important people who were expected to attend the party, but he did read every single page and memorized each and every one of them.

When he reached the gate of his destination, he found armed guards outside, and he let out a frustrated groan at the sight. It was ridiculous. He didn't even want to be here. But he had to be a good boy and attend to act as the poster boy of the team. Hopefully he just says hi, maybe says a few words about how great this partnership will be, exchanges a few sentences with a few people and that would be it.

“Loosen up a bit, you look terribly tense,” Adrian told him from the passenger seat.

Easy for him, at least he would have a funny story to tell at the party. The car he wanted to come with had been stolen from the hotel’s garage, and no one knew how anyone could take it. This gave him the ammunition to keep up conversations. Lucky bastard.

Meanwhile, what was he supposed to talk about? Driving? He talks about that all the time. His hobbies? These people probably weren't the target audience. “I’m not in the mood for this,” he eventually replied with a sigh.

“No one is, but sometimes we just have to play nice and schmooze with our sponsors. This is the first time they support an F1 team, I guess they're just excited.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Max replied with a roll of his eyes. “I just… I don't know, with all the things I've heard about our host, it sounds like she is some real life female Tony Stark. She already built such a huge company, she's responsible for big innovations, and she was on Forbes' 30 under 30 list… I mean, come on.”

Adrian watched him with a deep frown. “Does it have anything to do with the fact she's a woman?”

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. “God, no, it's because of her age. This isn't some app you can make in a college dorm, then sell for a lot of money. Building that company must have taken a lot of work, she couldn't have done it alone, yet every article the team cherry-picked for us failed to mention how she did it.”

“Well, from what I've read elsewhere, her partner really did help her with the administrative part of the project, but they talked to investors together. She's smart, and nice, and I one hundred percent believe she's capable of achieving this at her age. Might I add she's only a year younger than you? You don't seem to be in such a bad situation at your age either.”

Max took a deep breath to calm himself, but in the end he couldn’t hold back the painful grunt that's been waiting to come out. “I'm miserable,” he noted sadly as he parked the car.

But Adrian wasn't in the mood for this. “You're just whining now,” he pointed out patiently.

“Whatever.”

They got out of the car and walked up to the main entrance, passing by some people who looked like boring businessmen and their airhead partners. Maybe there was a politician among them too, at least one with a big voice sure made him believe that.

Inside the two of them separated, and Max took his time to take a look around. The house was impressive; four stories as he counted outside, modern, clean design, combined with a huge backyard that ended in a lake. It must have been peaceful when there was no crowd around.

After a while he went back inside but was soon intercepted by Christian. Crap, so much for a peaceful evening. “Oh, and here's Max,” he said happily as he put a hand on his shoulder and guided him over to their little group.

“Hi,” was all Max managed to come up with.

“Welcome,” you said with a warm smile. “And good luck for this year.”

“Thanks.”

You turned to his boss with a curious look. “And where's Checo? I thought he would be coming as well.”

Christian seemed a little uneasy, but he managed to explain the absence of the team's other driver. “He has a family emergency,” he replied curtly.

Max bit the inside of his cheek in order to keep back a comment. He didn't want to attend this stupid party either, but for some reason he didn't have a choice. He never had a choice.

To his surprise, you began to laugh at this, then took a sip of your champagne with a mischievous look in your eyes. “Oh, the real get out of jail free card,” you noted.

Max snorted at this, and there was no way he could hide the huge grin that wanted to break out. All right, you got a brownie point for this comment, that's for sure.

“I'm sure he would love to be here,” Christian assured you.

“Sure.” You remained silent for a while, but just when Max was beginning to assume an awkward break would settle into the conversation, you spoke up again. “Well, I'm glad you're all here. Thank you for taking the time. Please, just make yourselves at home, and enjoy the rest of the evening.”

At one point Adrian joined the little group and decided to become a part of the conversation with one last question. “Where's Mr. Hartford?” he asked.

You let out a thoughtful hum as you looked around. “I don't know, last time I saw him he was talking to a board member. But I'm sure he'll find and greet you too. Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to say hello to a few more people. Have fun.”

The three of them watched as you walked away, and Max couldn't help but appreciate the view. That red jumpsuit you wore tonight hugged your figure so perfectly it almost made him drool. Almost. He could easily push that stupid part of his mind to the side for now. He couldn't let himself be fooled into believing you really were oh so perfect, there had to be something that was wrong with you.

“Did it kill you?” he heard Adrian's voice, and when he turned to him, he saw a knowing smile on his face.

Meanwhile Christian looked a little confused. “Did what kill him?”

“Talking to her.”

“What, you had an issue with that?”

“No,” Max protested, sending a disapproving look to the engineer who only laughed at him.

“Sure? You sounded kin–” he began, but was quickly interrupted.

“You two are insufferable, you know that, right?” Max asked them with a sigh, then rolled his eyes and left without waiting for their answer. All he wanted was a quiet corner and another glass of champagne, maybe a few bites of those delicious sliders a waiter offered him not long ago.

“Are you planning to come up with something that can race against Neuralink?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, not this again. But you forced a polite smile on your face and took a deep breath. “It's easy to come up with new, flashy innovations, but let's not forget that the root of the problem is always a bioethical one. Let's take them and their animal testing procedures for example. Whether you like it or not, euthanizing so many animals does raise ethical questions.”

“But it's for a greater good,” another man noted, earning a few nods from the people around him.

“I don't know, I believe we need to find a way to test new technologies without hurting anything or anyone first. That's one of the things we're working on at the moment. Also there's another bioethical aspect, and that's the fact these things would be expensive. The general availability is highly questionable, it would only help the rich.”

That one politician you had no choice but to invite despite every cell in your body protesting against it began to laugh at this. “And what's wrong with that as long as they pay?”

Oh, you son of a bitch, how could you be so dense? You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself, but it was really hard at the moment. Luckily, Robert realized that this was a touchy subject, so he put a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

“What she's trying to say is that it should be more than just a discussion about profit,” he began to explain. “Sure, that's important to finance our research, but science is supposed to help people.”

The man gave him a condescending look, as if he was disappointed that you would both choose to help people instead of earning a lot of money. What he didn't understand was the fact your company had highly profitable solutions, which gave you the opportunity to work on things that weren't as successful financially.

“For us,” you suddenly began, your finger moving in a circle as a sign that you were talking about the members of this little group, “going to a private hospital to get treatment and paying for our prescribed medication is normal. But let's not forget that almost 8 percent of the US population is uninsured. That's 26 million people. Let's say they start coughing. What do they do? They turn to home remedies because they can't afford the medical bill. Then things get worse as it turns into pneumonia and if they're lucky, they can go to a free clinic where they're prescribed meds. But can they pay for them?”

Robert nodded, then went on to add, “And it can be anything, really, even something contagious.” Clever. That guy was known for being a germaphobe, if anything, that could surely get his attention.

But he remained silent and a woman jumped in to drive the conversation instead of him. “What about different cybernetic implants? I mean, those are pretty impressive in movies, but how close are we to actually having them?”

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

A painful half an hour later you and Robert went outside, walking all the way out to the lake to build a little distance from the guests. “Thanks for backing me up there,” you told him before taking a sip of your cocktail.

“Anytime,” he said as he clinked his glass with yours.

Before he could say anything else, though, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. The both of you turned around and saw Max stand there with his hands in his pockets, watching you with a polite smile.

“You have a second?” he asked.

“Sure,” you replied as you took a few steps closer to him.

“I have to go, I just wanted to thank you for the invitation and say goodbye.”

You weren't used to guests you didn't really know coming over to say goodbye before they left. Most people usually just got in their cars and drove off without a word, but honestly, you were honestly grateful for that. But this goodbye was flattering, after all you could see it on his face that under the polite smile he just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

With a nod, you held out your hand, and he took it without thinking. “Thanks for coming. I hope you could enjoy yourself a little bit. I know it's not a fun kind of party.”

“It was okay. Well, except for that woman who was raging about people who want to replace real meat with artificial meat,” he added with a laugh.

You froze and your eyes slowly narrowed at him. “Wait a second.”

Max looked genuinely confused, and his hand was still holding yours without either of you realizing it. “What?” he asked you.

“You're a genius! Excuse me.”

As you dropped his hand and began to walk away, he turned to Robert with a confused look on his face. “What did I say?” No response, only a shrug. “Where are you going?” he called after you.

“To the lab,” you finally told him without looking back.

Once again, Max turned back to the other man. “She's leaving her own party?”

“She has a lab in the basement,” you called back to answer his question.

Robert’s lips curled into an understanding smile. “Send me a text if it's something worth looking into,” he said, then turned back to Max and held up his hands. “Usually it's better not to ask.”

Despite Robert's warning, Max was now way too curious to simply ignore your strange behavior. He wanted to know what was going on in your head, so he followed you to the lab inside the house. He first arrived in an office, but through the huge windows he could see the actual lab.

“Is everything okay?” he asked after he softly knocked on the open door.

“Hmm?” You turned around with a questioning look, but once you realized it was him, you nodded. “Oh, yeah, sure. What are you doing here?”

Max walked inside, feeling completely out of place. “You ran away so abruptly that I wanted to know what's going on.”

“You gave me an idea, that's what's going on.”

“Oookay… And what was the idea?” he asked as he watched you sit behind the desk and enter your password to unlock the laptop that was connected to several monitors.

“Using something artificial instead of the real thing. That way we can bypass a barrier that's been blocking us,” you replied without looking at him.

“You lost me.”

A sweet little laugh left your lips, a sound that drew him closer as if it was a siren’s song. “All right, can you promise to keep your mouth shut about what I'm about to tell you?” Max nodded, so you grabbed the chair next to you, then pulled it closer and pointed at it to make him sit down. “Good. So one of the issues with bioprinting is that we can't be sure whether or not the cells we're working with are damaged, meaning if there's a possibility of cancer showing up later on for example.”

You were so enthusiastic, but he was so damn lost. It was the result of an unfamiliar territory, and the fact his mind could mostly focus on the way your lips moved instead of the words that left them. “Wait, what's bioprinting exactly?” he asked, unsure if he had the right idea.

Nodding, you clicked on something and it brought up a video feed. “For example, this,” you said with a proud smile.

It looked like a 3D printer, that much he knew, but what it was printing was a mystery at the moment. “What's that?”

“A 3D printed heart that's being made from my own cells,” you replied with a wide grin. “Give it another few days and it'll be ready.”

“Is that real?”

“Yep. Although, and that's what I've just mentioned, I can't guarantee it doesn't have cancerous cells. But theoretically speaking, someone awaiting transplant could get it.”

Max let out a thoughtful hum as he looked back at you. “So what does it have to do with artificial things?”

“That's how we bypass the damaged cell issue. We just need to create artificial cells that we can then turn into whatever we want them to be.”

“You think it could work?”

After thinking about it for a short while, you eventually shrugged. “Maybe,” you said quietly as you leaned back in your swivel chair. “I need to put a team together and discuss our options, then we'll see. As of now it's just a wild idea.”

“Interesting.”

To be honest, he could spend the whole night doing nothing but listening to you talk about your work. Meeting you in person changed the way he had thought about you before arriving here, and now he wanted to use this opportunity to get to know you better.

He did a quick search after first talking to you, and he read an article from the end of the last year that stated you were single. That was two months ago, maybe that hadn't changed since then. But something told him you were way too in love with your career to worry about romantic relationships, so if he wanted to get your attention, he probably had to work hard for it.

Your phone's screen lit up on the desk and he didn't miss the wallpaper. It was one of those prayer circle memes with Charles’ photo on it, which made him realize something. “You're a Ferrari and Charles fan?” he asked you with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep, already getting ready for prayer circles as you can see,” you replied with a laugh as you showed him the screen. “That's their only hope, I swear.”

“Then why are you sponsoring us?” he asked.

“A business decision in its purest form.”

Was he disappointed? Maybe a little bit. In his head he was already making up scenarios, like the first time you went to a race to support him–yes, he was getting ahead of himself, so what–and now it felt like a bomb had been dropped on his plans. Sure, as a sponsor or his girlfriend you'd physically be in their garage, but your heart would be with the Italians.

Max let out a sigh as he nodded. “And here I was, thinking you just wanted to see your company's logo on a fast car. Didn't know you were actually watching the races.” He tried to keep a casual tone to make it sound like it didn't hurt him, but he had a feeling his disappointment was seeping through the cracks.

Because you remained silent for a while, and when you finally spoke up, your voice was soft and quiet. “Maybe there are a lot of things you don't know.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he responded as he rolled closer to you.

The sadness he felt slipped away as soon as it came, because it was like he got under your spell the moment he got close enough to you. Your pretty eyes were following his every move, carefully watching him as you waited for whatever was to come.

It only took him a minute to make up his mind, to take a risk and see if you were willing to play this little game with him. So he raised his hand and curled his index finger to signal you to move over to him with a playful smile on his lips. “C’mere,” he said quietly.

To his surprise, you didn't hesitate to do as you were told, you stood up and sat in his lap with your arms around his neck, meeting him halfway for a kiss. The need for something more grew inside him as the kiss deepened, and a small part of his mind shifted its focus to your jumpsuit, trying to figure out the fastest way to get you out of it.

“I'm going home on Sunday. Come with me,” he suddenly spoke up, pulling away a little to look you in the eye. “Stay for a few days. Or a week or two,” he tried with a cheeky grin.

You leaned back to reach for your phone that you left on the desk, but he had his hands firmly on your bottom to keep you in place. “I can't reach my phone,” you said with a pout. “I can't tell you if I can go without it.”

With a sigh, he rolled the two of you closer to the desk so you could get it, but he didn't take his hands off of you. As you checked your calendar, humming every now and then, he couldn't help but start and place kisses in the crook of your neck.

“How about the week after that?” you asked him as you lowered your phone. “We have meetings with the CFO, an important meeting with a certain someone that I can't delay or skip, and I want to put together the team to test my new idea. Next week's pretty crowded.”

Max cupped your cheek and made you look at him. “If there's one thing we learned from Covid is that you can do these things online. Come on, I have fast and stable connection back home,” he tried with a smile.

“But you'll let me work,” you told him sternly, to which he only responded with a laugh before kissing you again. “I hate you.”

“You don't, and you know it.”

[p0orbaby]

Parental Guidance

summary: you’re on the brink of a baby induced nervous breakdown and you need your wife to pull her finger out a little

warnings: just some postnatal tension, but it all works out

a/n: thank you for the request !

word count: 1.2k

-

You’re pretty sure you haven’t slept in three days. Or is it four? The baby’s a demon. This tiny, adorable, 8-pound entity that seems to thrive on your misery. His cries have melded into a never-ending soundtrack of despair, punctuated by your own hollow attempts at soothing him with a song that you made up on the spot about 48 hours ago and now can’t stop singing. It’s called “Please, for the Love of All That is Good and Holy, Sleep.”

You used to be a person. You had interests, hobbies. You read books that didn’t have the words “Goodnight” and “Moon” in the title. You once watched entire movies from start to finish without interruptions. You’re pretty sure you used to smile, and not the deranged, Joker-esque grin you’ve developed from trying to maintain your sanity while walking a screaming infant around the house at 2 a.m.

And where is your darling wife, Alexia, in all this? Nowhere to be found. Well, she’s at work, technically. Which, fine. Someone has to pay the bills, but wasn’t there some kind of brochure about shared responsibility? Maybe she’s left it in her locker, along with her soul. You barely remember what she looks like at this point. You could pass her in the hallway and just nod politely, like she’s the postman.

You’re doing your best. Really, you are. But the situation is like trying to fill a bath with a teaspoon. And maybe you’re filling the bath wrong. Maybe the bath is cursed. You’ve tried everything—rocking, singing, automatic bouncers, and some baby yoga thing that some well-meaning Instagram mum swore by but mostly just made you realise how tight your hamstrings are.

Last night, you were so desperate, you found yourself Googling “Can babies drink Nyquil?” You didn’t actually give it to him, of course, but the fact that you even considered it is telling. Your maternal instincts have been reduced to the level of a sleep-deprived zombie.

You call Alexia. She picks up after the third ring. You can hear the echo of her voice, so you know she’s in one of those soundproof meeting rooms, which would be useful for something other than work right now, like, say, your mental breakdown.

“How’s it going?” she asks, with a tone that implies she has absolutely no idea how it’s going.

“Oh, fine,” you say, with the kind of deadpan delivery that would get a standing ovation on a late-night comedy show. “The baby’s great. He’s taken up wailing as a full-time job. He’s really passionate about it, you know? Very dedicated. I think he’s trying to set a record”

You hear her exhale softly. “I’m sorry, bebè. It’s just i'm in the middle of some media stuff—”

“No, no,” you cut her off. “By all means, finish giving your opinions on that new stadium or whatever. I’m sure our baby will appreciate it when he’s, I don’t know, 18 and actually sleeping. Maybe he’ll get a job there. Or just stand outside and scream, since that seems to be his true calling”

There’s a pause on the other end. Not a comfortable pause. The kind of pause that suggests she’s realising you might not be entirely okay. The baby shrieks louder, and you realise you’re bouncing him up and down like he’s a basketball and you’re trying to make a buzzer-beater shot.

“I’ll be home soon,” Alexia says finally, her voice softer.

“Define ‘soon,’” you counter, adjusting your grip on the baby before he launches himself out of your arms and catapults into a new dimension where babies don’t need sleep. “Is it ‘soon’ like in 20 minutes, or ‘soon’ like in three hours when I’ve lost the will to live?”

Another pause, this one even worse. You’re pretty sure you can hear her wincing through the phone.

“An hour?” she offers weakly, and you let out a laugh that’s halfway between genuine and maniacal.

“Perfect,” you say. “I’ll just go cry in the airing cupboard until then. The baby and I have matching dark circles under our eyes now, so that’s fun. Maybe we’ll start a band”

You hang up before she can respond, not trusting yourself to say anything else. You’re exhausted, stretched thin, and the fact that your wife isn’t here to witness the madness is only making things worse. You know she’s working hard, that she’s doing her best, but in this moment, it feels like you’re on a sinking ship and she’s on shore, waving at you from a distance.

An hour later, when she finally walks through the door, you’re sitting in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of baby toys, burp cloths, and what you think might be some sort of baby vomit, though at this point, who really knows?

You look up at her, and she looks back at you, and there’s a brief moment where you’re pretty sure she’s about to turn around and walk right back out the door.

Instead, she says, “I brought wine”

You blink at her, then at the bottle of wine in her hand. It’s a good bottle, too. The kind you used to drink before you had a baby and your definition of “good wine” became “whatever has the highest alcohol content and is closest to the till”

“Great,” you say, pushing yourself up off the floor with a grunt. “Let’s get the baby drunk”

She gives you a tired smile, but you can see the worry behind it. “Cariño…”

“No, it’s fine,” you say, holding up a hand. “It’s totally fine. I’m just saying, if we give him some wine, maybe he’ll sleep. Or at least pass out for a little bit. We can all get some rest. Or die. Either one sounds good at this point”

She sighs, setting the bottle down on the coffee table and coming over to you. She takes the baby from your arms, and you’re almost tempted to just collapse on the spot. Instead, you let yourself lean against her, just for a moment, just long enough to remember what it feels like to be supported by another human being.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and you can hear the guilt in her voice. “I know this is hard. I’ll try to be here more”

You nod, but you’re too tired to respond with words. Instead, you just rest your head on her shoulder and close your eyes, savouring the brief reprieve from the bedlam.

“Do you think he’s broken?” you mumble after a while. “Like, did we get a defective baby?”

Alexia chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “No, he’s not broken. He’s just…expressive”

“Expressive,” you repeat, nodding slowly. “Right. So we got the model with all the extra emotions. Great”

“Extra emotions,” Alexia echoes, her tone lightening. “Maybe that means he’ll be a really good artist someday”

“Or he’ll just be really good at screaming,” you say, lifting your head to look at her. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be on a team, you’ve been doing a lot of solo missions lately”

“I know,” she says softly, her eyes meeting yours. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better”

You let out a long breath, feeling the tension between you, and your shoulder, start to ease. “Okay. But if he screams one more time tonight, we’re selling him to the circus”

“Got it,” Alexia says with a smile, and for the first time in days, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re not going through this alone.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Paradise Lost nobles reacting to being called babygirl

Gamigin: Make sure to take your vitamines.

Mc: Sure thing, babygirl.

Gamigin confused: I'm not a girl. Shouldn't I be your babyboy?

Mc: Nah, babygirl suits you better.

Gamigin is confused, but he's got the spirit. Trys to call you babygirl as well and you almost choke while laughing. Please explain to the autistic dragon what babygirl is, he doesn't get it, but he wants to be included. Once you explain to him the joke behind it, he'll start calling everyone in Paradise Lost babygirl. Uses it so much that it infiltrates Lucifer's vocabulary. You won't be able to go to Paradise Lost again without being called baby girl

Morax: Done! The cavaty has been removed. How are you feeling MC?

Mc: Amazing... Thanks babygirl

Morax: You're welcome!

This man... when I tell you that Morax is the most squishable character in whb. He has no fucking brain, this man is an orange cat, a lobotomy survivor. He gets high on nose sprays every morning. I want to aggressively shake him until he pukes from motion sickness.

Anyways, he wouldn't even notice he's been called babygirl. Even if he goes, he just takes it as a compliment. He is very babygirl if you ask me.

Buer: That would be 200 dollars

Mc: What?! I didn't know Paradise Lost doesn't have universal healthcare.

Buer: We do have universal healthcare, but yoga isn't considered healthcare. So, that's 200 for all of our sessions.

Mc: Can't you make a discount for me, babygirl?

Buer: No.

Calling him nicknames isn't going to get you free yoga classes. There's no nickname you could use that he hasn't heard before from people trying to weasle out of their payment.

Marbas: ...

Mc: ...

Marbas: Don't say it.

Mc: Babygi-

Mc proceeded to get body pressed by Marbas and his metal wheel thing (tf are those called?). This man has been called babygirl by the entirety of Abaddon since he's the doctor assigned to that region. He has had enough. If he hears anyone call him babygirl again, he'll start friendly-firing right through your skull.

Lucifer and MC are cuddling peacefully

Lucifer: Become imortal with me, Mc, and I'll make sure not a single day of yours is touched by sorrow.

Mc: ...damn, babygirl, who gave you the right to be so poetic?

Lucifer just takes it. No reply, no nothing, he just nods. It kind of reminds him that you're human, since only those would laugh at sarcasm like this. It's fine, he loves you even if you aren't imortal. He just wished that you would call something more romantic like "love" or "darling", though he won't say that out loud.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Bully x Reader x Yan!Freak Pt 2

"Boys Night Plus One."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Bullying, name calling, degradation, violence, non-consensual photos, nonconsensual touching, male pronouns for the yans, mentions of school, general perversion, toxic behaviors, creep behavior, cum, masturbation, male and female genitalia.

Part 1 here

(AN: This one is for you, anon who sent me a bullet-point list of some ideas for Ahmed and Patrick which were better than anything I could have come up with. I love you.)

You groan, struggling to yank off the cotton top you had taken to wearing for PE class. You had been sick for a week or so, and in order to stay up on your grades you had been doing classwork after school. Today, you are making up some time for gym class using the school's exercise facilities. Once you finally get it off, you unlock your locker and put your gym clothes inside, reapplying your deodorant and putting on your school shirt. Just as you shut your locker, you hear the door of the girl's locker room flap shut, and you perk up at the sound. That's odd, after a few days of working out after school, you've never run into anyone else using the facilities.

"Hello?" You call out, peering around the row of lockers. Suddenly, a fist slams into the locker behind you, making you shriek. You whip around, to see Patrick, the schools most notorious bully laughing his ass off at how spooked you got. "Patrick!" You yell, smacking him lightly. "Ooh, feelin' fiery, huh?" He takes a breath, calming himself after laughing so hard. "What's got you so pissed off?" You roll your eyes.

"You scared me, and you're in the girls locker room!" He fakes shock, and looks around. "Really, the girls locker room? Huh, wonder how I wound up here..." He muses, playfully leaning up against the lockers. "If it was the boys locker room, why would I be here?" You ask. He shrugs. "I don't know, maybe you were tryna' sneak a peek at some dudes after football practice." He grins, leaning over you a little more. "Or maybe you wanted one of them to sneak a peek at you." You blush, and push him away. "Go away, Patrick, there's no reason for you to be here right now." You try to quickly gather your things, and make your way to the door.

"Woah, woah, hey, where ya' going? I'm just checking on you. You haven't been to class lately, I was getting worried." He uses your moment of surprise to grip your wrist and gently pull you back over. "I was sick, just needed some time away from class. Why does that matter to you?" You ask, confused. He's always enjoyed tormenting you, and you would think you were special if he didn't also torment everyone else. Of course, Patrick knows where you've been, because he's had Ahmed posted outside your bedroom for the duration of your absence, both to get photos and make sure you aren't hanging out with anybody else. He shrugs again. "I missed seeing you in these." He reaches into your gym bag, gripping one of the pairs of gym shorts and pulling them out. "Y'know, I don't think these follow the dress code..." Admittedly, you needed to get some new shorts. These ones were small, but you just hadn't gotten around to buying new ones. "Gym class is already fuckin' boring, especially when I can't see your sweet little ass bent over, trying to do toe-touches or yoga or whatever the fuck we're supposed to in that sweaty shit-hole."

You only blush and grab the shorts from him, stuffing them back into your bag. "Well, I'm sure you managed fine without me. There's plenty of girls to perv on that aren't me." You whimper. Patrick chuckles, and shakes is head. "Yeah, but I don't want any of them." He pauses, then clicks his tongue. "That reminds me though, I did make a friend while you were gone. I had a lot of free time since you weren't around to play with." You glance up at him. "Another member of your gang?" You ask. The last thing this school needs is even more assholes hanging out with Patrick. "Nope. It's someone I knew before you left, but I've made amends with them. Patched things up, self-improved." He brags. He looks down at you smugly. "You should be proud of me, I'm a changed man."

"What do you mean?" You aren't sure what previous acquaintance he's referring to. Due to Patrick's widespread terror, it could be pretty much anyone. "You know that new kid, Ahmed?" Your mouth opens in shock. You had heard things about the new boy, with dark hair and wide eyes. You had noticed him a few times in English class. He was always quiet, only occasionally speaking when he was being picked on by the other kids, quietly protesting the abuse. You had traded poetry a few times for an assignment. He seemed very creative. You weren't really sure why the other kids picked on him so much, but you suspected it was because Ahmed was Patrick's new favorite. You had heard of the things he'd done to Ahmed, robbing him, beating him, stealing his classwork. You didn't do anything, how could you? Patrick hated when people stood up to him, and you didn't want his attention on you anymore than it was.

"You're... friends with him now." Patrick nods. "That's cruel, Patrick. You can't do all that stuff to somebody, then force them to play friends with you. It's not right!" You exclaim, boldly defying him for a moment. He only exhales lightly, and puts his hands up in surrender. "You got it all wrong, baby. We are friends, me and him. We've made amends. I told you, I'm changing. I'm a reformed juvenile." He looks up to see if you're buying it. He pouts when he notices you still seem skeptical. "Alright, I guess I'm not 'reformed', exactly, but me and him really are friends now." You only nod, hoping he will drop it and go away. This reaction makes him scoff. "You still don't believe me? Fine, I'll tell you what. I'm going over to see Ahmed at his house tonight, to hang out. Why don't you come with me?" He offers.

You shake your head no quickly. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Patrick." You exclaim. "Well, if you do go, and see me and him are friends, you'll know I'm not such a bad guy, and you might like my new friend. If you don't go though..." He chuckles lowly. "Me and this guy may not be friends... and by not going, your risking this kid getting beat up in his own home. Do you want that on your conscience?" You bite your lip, but shake your head. "No, you don't. I could handle that, but you couldn't, pretty thing. So come on, grab your shit and head over there with me, alright?" You make no movements, and Patrick groans, grabbing your gym-bag. "Fine, since I told you I'm changing, and I'm a gentleman, I'll carry your stuff." His free hand grabs your wrist. You both walk out of the school doors towards the bus stop. As you stand waiting for the bus, he leans in, his lips almost brushing your ear. "We're taking the city bus, and it's late enough that it's gonna be crowded." You nod, not sure where he's going with this. "Lots of hard working people want a seat, and we should give it to them. Being good members of the community and all that shit." He sighs. "So whether or not there's a free seat for you, I expect that ass on my lap for the whole ride, you feel me?" You blush, and look at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, leaning back from your ear. "Gotta save some room for everyone else. Besides, I'm plenty comfortable."

Ahmed is sitting on his bed, foot bouncing at a pace so rapidly it practically shakes his whole scrawny form. He stares at the clock, counting the seconds until Patrick shows up. He promised, promised he'd have a way of getting you here. After weeks and weeks of photographing you from a distance, Patrick promised he would finally get to be near you, talk with you. Ahmed wasn't exactly sure how Patrick was going to accomplish this, but he knew given his reputation it would be easier for Patrick to get a hold of you than him. He just hoped whatever Patrick did, it wouldn't be as severe as what he endured before Patrick and him entered a truce. He didn't want you in his house for the first time, scared and unsure why you were brought there. No! He wanted his new house guest to be comfortable. His room was dark, with books, figures, and posters strewn about. He did his best to make it homey though. He opened the curtains, cleaned out any trash, (hid his camera and photo collection). He was sure Patrick was going to laugh at him for all this, seeing as Patrick had seen the state his room was in before. Ahmed shakes his head. He wasn't worried about Patrick right now. No, he was ready to see you, talk with you. Maybe... maybe even get to touch you.

The door creaks, and Ahmed hears footsteps approaching. Heavy boots, followed by the light patter of smaller feet. He bites his lip to the point it almost breaks skin. Patrick had done it. You were waiting just outside his room.

He hops back onto his bed, trying to look as casual as possible as the blonde menace he now called a friend traipsed in, with you behind him. "Ahmed... looks like you cleaned up a little in here. Huh." Patrick looks around, hands in his pockets as he leans against Ahmed's bed frame. "Ahmed, I believe you know my new friend." Patrick motions at you. Ahmed nods quickly. "Uh, yeah. We have an English class together." He says. "It's nice to actually meet you Ahmed, you and Patrick are-" You sigh. "Friends?" Ahmed nods. "Yeah, we actually have a lot in common..." He chuckles, shrugging. "Crazy, huh?" He coughs awkwardly. You nod, still not fully convinced.

"See, baby? I told ya' there's nothing shifty going on here! Me and Ahmed are just best buds." Patrick flops onto Ahmed's bed, bouncing the boy up a little as he wraps an arm around him, his grip rough on Ahmed's shoulder. 'Best buds' wasn't really a term Ahmed would use, especially considering two days ago Patrick was pounding Ahmed into this very bed, making the scrawny outcast cry and beg for his cock to go just a little deeper, just a little faster to give him that relief. Of course, Patrick was a jerk, and didn't let him reach that peak for at least three hours into the session, when Ahmed's parents came home. Patrick enjoyed making the boy finally cum on his cock, while trying to muffle his cries knowing his parents were just downstairs.

"So, w-would you like to watch a movie, or play a game? I've got Mario Kart, and Mortal Kombat-" Ahmed lists off a few more games, hoping something would catch your attention and endear him to you. You smile awkwardly, but shake your head. You hadn't really planned on staying, considering you were so sure that Patrick was just tormenting this poor boy. "I actually should get going, it's a Friday night, I don't want to intrude on your boys time." You move to grab your gym stuff, and Ahmed's face falls. He looks at Patrick, glancing at you and silently begging Patrick to do something. Anything, just to keep you here longer. "Calm down, I'll fuckin' handle it." Patrick whispers, before running a hand through his hair and turning back to you. "C'mon, baby! We don't mind you hanging out. Besides, Ahmed's had kind of a rough time in our school. I'm the only friend he's got." Ahmed blushes, not realizing the strategy was to make him look like a pathetic loser. "Patrick-" Patrick shoves his shoulder and continues. "Don't you wanna help him make at least one more friend?" You hesitate at the door, before sighing. It certainly isn't healthy for someones only friend to be Patrick, so you nod. "Fine, I'll stay..."

Several hours go by, and after two movies, four rounds of Mario Kart, and one two-liter of Sprite later, you are on the verge of passing out. You aren't really sure what happens in the next few minutes, but all you know is you are now laying in Ahmed's bed, with Patrick to your right and Ahmed squished on your other side, between you and the wall. Patrick fell asleep first, oddly enough. For a guy with so much energy, he gets sleepy quick. Now it's just you and Ahmed.

"Sorry about this, I didn't realize it was so late..." Ahmed apologizes. He isn't sorry. He imagined hundreds of ways this evening could go, but none of them ended with you pressed up against him, in his bed. God, you were getting your scent all over his sheets and his t-shirt. "M' never gonna wash these sheets again." He mumbles to himself. "Mm- what?" You ask groggily, making him jolt and blush. "Nothing, sorry." You go back to trying to sleep, and eventually pass out.

Ahmed tries to sleep as well, but just as he closes his eyes, he feels a weight on top of him. He gasps, and opens his eyes to see Patrick on top of him. "Come on, freak. We've got work to do." He sits back on the boys lap, allowing him to sit up. "Wha- I thought you were asleep." Patrick scoffs, and shakes his head. "Nah, just knew she wouldn't want to fall asleep around big bad me if she thought I was awake. But, I am. Now go find your camera." Ahmed looks confused, making Patrick roll his eyes. "Come on, you didn't think we were just gonna have a sleepover, did you? Tell secrets and make friendship bracelets like a fuckin' girl scout troop? We have a chance to get some close-up shots we could never get otherwise right now. Maybe even get a feel of her, now hurry up." The plan now confirmed, Ahmed scrambles as quietly as he can off the bed, practically throwing himself onto the floor as he blindly feels around under his bed for the camera. He knocks some stuff around, making Patrick his. "Shut the fuck up!" He whispers harshly. "M' sorry! It's dark." Ahmed whines. Finally, his fingers close around cold metal the camera, and he climbs back onto the bed beside Patrick.

"I'm ready. Just tell me when to snap a picture, and I'll do it." Patrick nods. "Heh, I've always wanted to see what's under this shirt." Patrick carefully slides the thin cotton up, not removing it from you but placing it just under your chin, exposing your breasts to the two boys. "Why doesn't she have a bra?" Ahmed asks. "She was coming back from the gym, already took off her sports bra, I guess. It's in her back over there, if you wanna smell it or some shit." Ahmed blushes. "S-smell it?" He stammers. "I don't know, you're the freak here. I'm just guessing that's something you're into." He isn't wrong.

"God, she's got a nice little pair, huh?" Patrick motions for Ahmed to snap a few photos. "Get one of my hands on em' too." Patrick's large hands cup your breasts, his thumb barely brushing past the nipple. Once Ahmed get's the photos, Patrick begins to gently rub his thumb and fore-finger over the nipples, watching as the delicate buds harden. "Fuck, I always like them better when there hard n' shit. Seeing them poke through t-shirts. I caught her out in the cold once, took everything in me to not make her pop em' out right there in the alley behind the school." Patrick smiles and the memory. Ahmed squirms, causing his friend to take notice.

"Gimme your camera." Patrick orders. "Wha- no! This, this camera is everything to me!" Patrick just groans at the boys pleading. "I'm not gonna' break it, freak. Just giving you a chance to free up your hands so you can play with her tits too." Ahmed looks between Patrick and your breasts, which are now peaking in arousal at Patrick's teasing. He sighs. "Okay, fine." Patrick takes the camera, and Ahmed places two hands on your breasts, squeezing ever so gently. "Wow, they're really soft, except for her nipples, I guess..." Patrick restrains himself from laughing so loud he'll wake you up. "God, you are such a fuckin' virgin. Do something photo-worthy, for fucks sake." Patrick eggs Ahmed on, and in a moment of boldness, the boy places a kiss on your collarbone, before slowly trailing his way down to your left breast. After a bit of careful kissing and teasing, his chapped lips find your nipple, latching gently.

"Shit... there you go." Ahmed is so lost in the taste of your soft skin that he doesn't register the camera flashing a few times as Patrick snaps some pictures. What he does hear however, is the soft, wanton moan that escapes your lips. He pulls back, eyes wide as he looks at Patrick. Patrick seems just as shocked, but this is quickly replaced with a toothy grin. "C'mon, clearly your making her feel good. Grab at her shorts, I wanna see if she's wet from us just playing with her girls." Patrick insists, and Ahmed obliges. Trembling fingers pull at your shorts, slowly inching them down your relaxed thighs. "Hurry up-' "I'm trying! It's hard when she's asleep, not exactly cooperating." Ahmed eventually gets the thin shorts down your legs, just above your knees in case they need to move them back up in a hurry. To his delight, he managed to hook your underwear down with them, leaving your soft mound exposed to the two boys.

Ahmed's nimble fingers move to spread your lips, the strings of slick breaking apart as he parts them, coating his fingers. He almost finishes right there, seeing the light of the camera as Patrick snaps a picture reflect off of your slick, letting them know just how soaked you are. "Fuckin' soaked... just from a bit of teasing." Patrick groans, making sure to get a picture of both your holes and Ahmed's fingers parting the folds around them. "Is that not normal?" Patrick shrugs. "I don't know, some people are more sensitive than others, I guess. Especially when they haven't been touched." Ahmed's eyes light up at that, and he whips his head towards Patrick.

"You- you think there's a chance she hasn't... y'know..." Ahmed trails off. "We're literally taking nudes of her cunt right now, just say 'had sex', 'fucked', anything. Jesus." The weaker boy shrinks into himself at the blonde's words. "I mean, it's possible. I've never heard of any guy doin' her, and I've never seen her with another guy around school." Patrick continues. "Isn't that your fault?" Ahmed asks, making his new friend chuckle. "Maybe. You're the one who's been outside her window for the past month, ever seen a guy over?" Ahmed shakes his head no. "Then maybe she's just been waiting for the right guy to come and show her a good time." Patrick moves a little closer to Ahmed, pressing himself against the boy's back. For the first time, Ahmed isn't bothered by Patrick towering over his smaller frame. "Well, right guys, y'know." Ahmed doesn't respond, his mind filling with ideas of what might happen, that night when him and Patrick finally get to be your firsts.

Would you be scared? He'd comfort you as best he could, but Patrick wouldn't be much help with that, (though he knows Patrick can be gentle when he really wants something.) Ever the anxious mess, he can't even focus on his fantasies without worrying. He needed to get condoms, and were you on birth control? Patrick should definitely get tested first, who knows what he's got going on. If Patrick takes you first, what should he do? He's content to sit in the corner and play with himself, but he know's Patrick would only make fun of him for 'not getting any'. A final thought strikes him. Would he be jealous? Would you like Patrick better? You've known him longer, and he's definitely more popular. He's pretty, whereas Ahmed is skinny and feral-looking. He's drawn out of his panic by the sound of a zipper.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout, 'Mhed?" Patrick asks. He can tell when his little freak-friend is spiraling. "You wanna touch her, huh?" Ahmed nods. He can feel the rough, calloused hands of Patrick palming his cock through his boxers. He shudders. "So much. I want... god, can I take her first?" Ahmed begs, gasping as Patrick pulls down his waistband, letting his cock stick out. Patrick gently rubs his thumb on Ahmed's tip, collecting a bead of pre-cum. "Maybe. You still' passing science?" Ahmed furrows his brow at the odd question. Why was Patrick asking about classes while he jerks him off over your sleeping form. "Yeah, I'm doing p-pretty well in all my classes..." He replies. He tosses his head back into Patrick's shoulder as the strong delinquent begins to stroke his length with quick, tight strokes. Patrick's free arm wraps around Ahmed's stomach, pinning the boy's back to his broad chest. "Gimme your notes for all your classes then. If you're good for me, n' keep proving you're worth something-" Another harsh stroke. Ahmed is on the verge. "Then maybe I'll let you be the one to break in her sweet little hole." Ropes of white, hot cum spill from Ahmed's cock as he cries out, before quickly biting his lip to try and silence himself. If you woke up now, there would be no way him and Patrick could make an excuse to get out of this. Just the thought of being your first leaves Ahmed so emotional that as his cock twitches in pleasure, he can feel himself tearing up.

"Are you fucking crying?" Patrick presses his lips to Ahmed's cheek, getting a taste. "You get jerked off one time thinking about our pretty girl and you fuckin' cry. Maybe you aren't ready to be her first." Ahmed gags, and turns around. He moves his arms, frantically whispering, begging. "No, no! I won't cry then, I'll be good. I'll make her feel good, please. I- I've gotta be her first, you don't-" Patrick shushes him. "You've got a long way to go. I think you and I will have to practice some more, making sure you last longer than you did just now." Patrick leans to the side, taking in the sight of your nude torso now decorated with Ahmed's cum. He grins. "Alright, here's the deal. You take some photos real quick, make sure we can see the pretty paint-job you gave her." Ahmed blushes as Patrick stands. "Where are you going?"

"Gotta go get some wipes, and I gotta be quick about it."

[craziechwiv]

Jnpr Berries Small shorts.

Ruby: Hey Jaune, wanna have a movie night?

Jaune: Sorry Ruby, it's a very important night for my team. We can do movie night tomorrow though!

Ruby: Oh...okay. May I ask, what's so important about tonight though?

Jaune: Well, we sorta like to just be by ourselves.

Cut to tonight, with Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren all cuddling up with each other on their couch, a giant blanket covering them all as they watched Pumpkin Pete cartoons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weiss: Pyrrha! I've been meaning to talk to you about something.

Pyrrha: Not her again...Uh, y-yes. Hello Weiss, what is it you need to discuss?

Weiss: You...you remembered my name?!

Pyrrha: We literally see each other every day...and you say your name so proudly...kind of hard not to. What did you need again?

Weiss: O-Oh right, I was wondering if you'd like to study with me?

Pyrrha: Oh, sorry Weiss. I gotta help Jaune and Nora study...their grades are just, the worst right now.

Weiss: Oh...I see. I'm sorry you have to deal with those two, but I understand. I can't expect nothing less of the champion herself helping out those in need!

Pyrrha: Yep...thank you!

Pyrrha begins to walk off and wave at Weiss before turning the corner and breathing heavily over the lie she told the Ice Queen. After which, she calls Ren.

Ren: Hello?

Pyrrha: Hey, sorry. I got held up, we still having our quadruple date?

Ren: Yeah, Nora and Jaune both are ordering though, so hurry up.

Pyrrha: I'll be there in a bit!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blake approaches Ren who was meditating on a slone mat in the gym.

Blake: Excuse me, Ren?

Ren: Hm?

Blake: Mind if I borrow your time for a second? I wanna try this yoga thing to try and ease my mind a bit.

Ren: Sorry, but I'm trying to think peaceful thoughts at the moment and need some alone time. If you want to try this out, do it by yourself. It works well like that.

Blake: Oh, okay. Thanks for the tip, sorry for interrupting you.

Ren: No worries, I'm just thinking of peaceful thoughts...

Ren breathed slowly as his mind was filled with thoughts of Jaune's exposed muscles, Nora's tightly packed thighs, and Pyrrha's sweaty abs.

Ren: Very, peaceful and enjoyable thoughts~...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yang: Hey hey, energizer! Mind if I spar with you real quick?

Nora: Wha- Right now?! Sorry Yang, but I really need to get somewhere, and I can't be held back!

As Nora began to make her way towards the entrance of the gym, Yang blocks her way as she held up her fists.

Yang: Uh, yeah no. At least try to get past me, then you can go~. So me what you got short-iEEEEEE?!

Nora picks up Yang and does a suplex on Yang, slamming her hard onto the ground as she began to run out the gym screaming.

Nora: I MUST BE THERE FOR ICE CREAM DAY! I CAN'T LET REN AND JAUNE SMEAR ICE CREAM PYRRHA'S ABS WITHOUT ME!

Yang: ...wha...what just happened?

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Are You Sure?! Episode 4 observations

8.5/10 ☆

When will Army cancel Jimin and Jungkook? When will ot7 jikookers and vminers and vminkookers make call out posts for them? Jimin and Jungkook should express that all encompassing love for the entire members of their group all the time. Pointing out throughout the entire first day that Tedros is their guest or that they he should leave if he doesn't like it, that he's looking for attention or that AYS is their show, not for other people, was giving mean girls behavior. How is that nice? They love their guest but they're shading him. I think we should totally cancel Jikook!

But how the tables have turned once the kid that tagged along went to bed and the adults could play. Oh, we were back to Connecticut vibes once again. Which are basically the usual jikook vibes in where every little game needs to have a hint of flirtation (I wonder what Jimin would have done if Jungkook wouldn't have warned him about the glass part in the pool? Jimin was in slytherin mode the minute he took off his clothes).

From enganging in intricate rituals to touch each other (as always) to go through a long negotation over eating ramyeon or not (what's ppeuriri got to do with everything? I love their inside jokes and hate them at the same time. Let me in!!!! I was waiting for the bj brothers and when they deliver even some innuendos, it riles me up).

I'm not a BL fan of regular watcher, but this looks like the beginning of one of those steamy scenes where they show them fuck on some balcony or in the pool. Just sayin'.

Say yes and eat the damn ramyeon, Jungkook!

I like Jikook's nighttime routines. Although so far they have been quite tame, no drinking or other shenanigans. They do teeth brushing yoga or they cuddle up and talk about work and their schedules before bed. And there's no bed without Jimin's legs all over Jungkook (I'm sure he must be dreaming of those thighs at this point).

Can it get more domestic than Jungkook talking to his mother and her already knowing about their schedule?

I have a feeling she and Jimin text each other regularly. Oh, if only they had filmed just a bit during their Chuseok weekend in Busan (I do assume Jimin went too, but 🤷‍♀️). I need to see Jimin with Jungkook's mother. She would dot on him and Jimin would be so respectful but shy and oh, I get all giddy just thinking about him. Busan boys, please visit your home town one day and share that with the world!

I refuse to accept the existence of Jimkook, sounds ugly, forced, it doesn't roll off the tongue. But Jikook? Yeah, that works. And they were in full jikook mode on the boat. That embarrassing CPR manouver by Jimin is yet another sign that they will remain that cringe couple. How did Tedros survive on that boat? No wonder he took a step back from all that up until the end.

The entire afternoon on the boat really gave us a glimpse into their original plans and how once again, they just click. They never push it, they want to do the same things and they have fun. And we still got the cuddle and drawing whales out of clouds without that moment turning into something else.

When Jimin is in top shape, without any other illness looming over their vacation, then we know we're in for some entertainment. He's much more engaging and laughs at everything while Jungkook is right there next to him, ready to joint whatever Jimin wants to do.

(Who would have thought that Tedros headbanging the first day would make him take a step back and allow them to do their own thing how they originally planned? I have lots to say about him, but for another post, there's too many nice things that happened and I focus on that at first)

And now, a few more highlights:

What is this? Cutie Jiminie who can also get angry while stuffing his face with rice and noodles and chicken all at the same time? You are what you eat. Or whom 🤭

Jungkook has always been an expert at such lines, how can Jimin still be surprised after a decade? That's what you get. You have the tattoed guy who's really into bikes and Jimin who is clearly into all that, but he's gotta take the lame lines too.

[ros3ybabe]

Re-Introduction 🎀

Hello!!! With the start of the school year coming soon for me, I decided I'd reintroduce myself, as this is my main blog and I typically use it as a studyblr-type of blog because it helps keep me going towards my goals! Of course i still post about my physical health, mental health, and daily life, but when college/university is in session, my life typically revolves around school!

🎀 A Little About Me 🎀

you guys can call me Rosey 🌹

I am 21 years old, she/her

I am entering my 4th year of college/uni BUT I recently added a 2nd major so I don't graduate for another year/year and a half ish

I am majoring in Human Nutrition and Dietetics, 2nd major in Finance, and a double minor in Psychology and Exercise Science

I love learning so so so much, as you can tell

I study languages in my free time

^ Currently rotating between (Mexican) Spanish, Japanese, and Korean

I love all things health, fitness, and wellness

I love to work out! My favorite ways to work out right now are weight lifting, walking, mat pilates, and yoga! My university offers workout classes for free to full time students so I'll be taking yoga/pilates classes at my campus!

I do work a full-time, on-campus food service job. 40 hours of work a week, and 15 college credit hours this semester 😅

I love to read, write, listen to music, and want to pick up more hobbies such as sewing, dance, crochet, drawing, painting, etc

This account started out as a "wonyoungism" account and slowly turned into my own little safe space where I am free to be myself without fear of judgment. Of course my aesethic is still pink and wonyoungism ish but I do fully plan on turning this into a more studyblr type of account using my own photos once university starts back up! So stay tuned for that little transition!

I'm always open to questions and I love giving advice and helping others! Whether it's something academic related, personal goal related, whatever, I'm always here to help if I can! <3 I love this little community i have <3

I've said so much already, lol, my bad. I'm just so excited for this upcoming semester. I don't know what it is about it, but I have such a feeling this will be a good school year for me! Feel free to drop an ask, or a comment, or anything! I will be making more posts of more academic related topics soon!

til next time lovelies 🩷

[archangeldyke-all]

Imagine Sevika and reader going at it, reader riding Sevika and then all of a sudden sevikas phone rings and it’s Silco and she knows she HAS to answer it. So instead of pulling out she just makes reader pause her movements but that makes her pissed off so instead she waits until she half way into the call and just slowly goes back to riding her.

Sevika struggling to not moan or anything in the phone, glaring at reader who has this bratty smirk on her lips and once the calls done Sevika pins her and pounds the fuck outta her for being a brat saying things like

“You wanna get me in trouble huh?”

“want my fucking cock that bad?”

“My needy little, cumslut”

:)

hehehehehehehehehe, gonna combine this with two more asks

Pregnant horny reader who is constantly ready to jump Sevika’s bones any chance she gets

hii i know youve written like the whole little fucker and reader and sev thing (trust me ive read all of them like 5 times) but i absolutely need more pregnant reader i have such a strange obsession with it. ofc if u dont want too that fine i love your work so much xoxo <3

men and minors dni

at seven months pregnant, you've gotten pretty used to being uncomfortable.

your feet and ankles are almost always swollen. you always have to pee, even when you're sitting on the toilet. your tits are sore more often than not, you run out of breath walking from the kitchen to the bedroom, and you're so round that you've had to stop sitting on the couch-- once you sit down on the soft cushions, you can never find the momentum to get back up.

so, yeah. you're pretty used to being uncomfortable.

but what you're not used to is the hormone induced, near constant, horniness you've been experiencing in the past few weeks.

you're fucking ravenous. you can't get enough. if you're not going to the bathroom to pee or doing your pre-natal yoga, you're riding sevika's face or shoving a vibrator down your pants.

you're honestly getting kind of annoyed with it-- just wishing you could have a moment's peace without feeling the need to dry hump the nearest firm surface, but sevika's been thrilled. for the first time in your relationship, you're the one wearing her out in bed.

you would worry a bit that you're too much for her or that she's only reciprocating your advances so often because your pregnant, but then you get her between her legs and see the awed, honored, slightly goofy look on her face as she takes care of you and you realize you've got nothing to worry about at all.

all this is to say-- you guys have been fucking a lot.

and it's been getting in the way of things, sometimes.

like right now, for example.

you'd woken up from your midday pregnancy nap horny like always. you'd had a dream about your wife, something vague and sensual involving her hands on your hips and her lovely raspy voice in your ear, and you wanted to find her and make that dream come true. you found her on the sofa, looking delicious as she lounged, one hand tucked into the waistband of her boxers, the other holding her phone. it took one second of eye contact for her to figure out what you wanted, a sly smile spreading across her face as she patted her lap.

so you crawled on top of her and started riding her into the couch.

it was going great. you had sevika's cock inside you, her lips against your ear, whispering dirty words to you, her nails digging into your ass and nails, and just as you were about to cum, her phone started ringing.

"you better not answer that." you say between huffs and puffs as you catch your breath. sevika cringes, guiltily. "sevika!" you scold as you watch your wife reach over for her phone.

"it's silco, it's a work call!" she whines. you glare at her, your legs shaky as you try to get off her lap. she gasps. "don't leave!" she says, pulling you back down to sit on her cock. you both moan.

"sevika i'm so fucking horny i'm going to cry if i don't cum in the next ten minutes."

"just give me thirty seconds babe, then we can get back to it." she promises, pulling you forward to rest your head against her shoulder as her other hand answers her phone.

she takes a deep breath, then speaks. "hey, boss." she says, completely casually, like she's not balls deep inside of you right now.

it's equal parts hot and frustrating. hot, because sevika's so good at controlling herself it drives you fucking crazy, and frustrating because the one time sevika's not supposed to be in control is when she's inside of you. she's supposed to be a whiny, babbling, eager mess-- not mrs. professional all cool calm and collected.

you huff, and start nibbling at the tendon in her throat. sevika's thighs tense under yours, but she doesn't make a sound.

"we can't do eight, we gotta stay under six." sevika says into her phone. you can hear the familiar sound of silco's voice muffled against sevika's ear.

you reach down to start rubbing your clit, a breathy sigh escaping your lungs as you clench around sevika's cock. she jolts, her free hand smacks your ass hard, and you have to muffle a giggle when you hear silco on the phone ask, "what was that?"

"nothing." sevika responds. "i'm outside, a car hit a pothole." she lies. you laugh again. silco seems to buy her lie, and he continues chattering. you continue rubbing your clit and grinding against your wife.

sevika suddenly pulls you away from her neck with a firm hand on the back of your neck, and she glares at you.

you snort, your free hand coming down to gently pat your pregnant belly-- the ultimate get out of trouble free card for you these days. sevika's eyes soften immediately, and the second they do, you begin to pick up your pace, bouncing on her cock while you continue to stroke your clit.

smacking sounds start filling the room, and sevika's breath starts quickening. her eyes drop to your tits, pupils wide and hypnotized as she watches them sway.

over the phone, silco shouts. "sevika!? are you listening to me?"

"fuck, i'm listening, i'm listening." she groans. "fuckin'... tell them five and a half is our final offer." she grunts.

it's all greek to you. you're much more interested in the breathy way her words are coming out than the words themselves.

you want to make her whine-- that pretty high pitched whine she likes to make for you when your riding her like this. so you snake one hand under her t-shirt to start palming her tits, and just when she opens her mouth to talk to silco again, you pinch her nipple. hard.

"aa-ah!" sevika squeals. you grin, sevika glares, and silco groans on the other line. "i gotta go silco i'll call you back in twenty minutes." sevika rushes out.

she throws the phone to the end of the couch, not bothering to hang up, and you can hear silco's annoyed response.

"you two have fun. disgusting."

then, the dial tone.

you begin to giggle, only for your laughs to get caught in your throat when sevika flips the two of you over, pinning you to the couch beneath her as she grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

for a second, she only looks at you. it's like she can't decide if she's angry or horny or just admiring at you. you try your best to appear innocent, batting your eyelashes at her and lifting your hips up so you can brush your pregnant stomach against her washboard abs.

she softens a bit at the touch, and a smile blooms on her face.

"such a fuckin' cumslut you can't even wait for five minutes?"

you gasp, your eyes rolling back in your skull and your cunt clenching at her words. sevika hums, satisfied by your reaction.

"y-y-you're the one who d-did this to me." you whine. sevika's smile only grows.

"you're damn fucking right i did." sevika growls as she beings to fuck you again. you groan, and sevika leans down to kiss your lips.

she pulls away only to gasp, then she dodges your puckered lips to press her lips against your ear. she stumbles on her first word, because her action launched you back to your dream, and you clenched around her cock so hard she whimpered halfway between syllables.

"in-ah-insatiable, aren't you?" she growls. "i should just keep you pregnant all the fuckin' time, huh? all leaky and needy for my cock-- makin' a fuckin fool of yourself just to have me."

"sevika--"

"yeah, baby?"

"i'm gonna fucking cum." you whine. sevika chuckles in your ear.

"i bet you are."

she bites your earlobe, her hips continuing their relentless pace, and you wrap your legs around her waist.

"a-are you?" you whimper.

"fuck, yeah."

"inside me?" you beg. sevika shivers, gives you one solid thrust and a whimper, and you cum. "sevika!" you cry. sevika grunts in response, chasing her own orgasm as you fall apart beneath her. "sevika, sevika-- breed me, cum inside me, fill me up, you fuck me so good, i love you so much, you-- oh!"

sevika sinks her teeth into your shoulder as she cums, growling and shaking on top of you.

the only reason she doesn't collapse is because you're belly's between the two of you. instead, she rolls to the side and tumbles off the bed.

you burst into giggles, turning on your side to smile down at your wife who's grinning up at you as she catches her breath.

"i love you so much." you sigh. sevika hums, reaching up to take your hand in hers. she kisses your knuckles.

"i love you, baby."

"...we should probably send silco flowers or something." you say.

sevika bursts into laughter.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved

[changisworld]

For changbin: you decide to start your fitness journey and call your experienced boyfriend to help you training, but apparently he has other plans (i was totally inspired by the skz yoga class, that man fixing hyunjin's position got me to places lol)

OMG what a good ask for me to respond to for my FIRST EVER BINNIE FIC!! I hope you enjoy <3

Word count:2.319

Obvious MDNI,18+ smut warnings under the cut

Any reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated!

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

PSA FOR ANY ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone's requests, I'm sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i'll get around to posting it! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji you wanna be!

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS; slightly jealous binnie, coke can cock binnie, confident reader, pet names such as pretty,jagi, baby, public sex, creampie, quickie, slight teasing

You have finally decided to join the gym after saying it was your new years revolution for thee longest time & who better to help with your journey than your long term boyfriend, Changbin!

You put on a pair of sport leggings & a matching sports bra & you put Changbins shirt over it. You admire how you look in the mirror, trying to make sure you look as good as you can without looking like you're putting in effort & then you put on the gym shoes Changbin bought for you to encourage you to go to the gym & you then decide to walk to the gym & meet Changbin there. Since its 1am on a tuesday it's a safe & quick 15 minute walk to the gym.

You walk into the changing room & lock your bag off & you take off the baggy shirt you're wearing & shut the locker, putting the key around your wrist.

You step into the gym & unsurprisingly it's completely empty, other for a random guy & of course, Changbin himself.

You walk over to Changbin who is currently on his phone & taking a drink, of course sitting on the edge of the bench presss.

"Hey Binnie!" you say, waving your hand in front of his phone to get his attention over his music playing in his headphones. "Oh hey y/n! when did you get that set? you look so good" he says smirking at you as you giggle & roll your eyes as he stands up & gives you a quick hug. "I'm happy you're here jagi, trust me you'll loooove the gym once i teach you!" He says, nothing but enthusiasm in his voice. "Yeah well i better hope so seeing since i want to look a bit better & fit for summer" you say, looking at the huge mirror that stretches from one end of the gym all the way to the other. "Your body is already perfect y/n, the gym can just be a healthy hobby for you! Anyways, lets start with some stretches." He says, taking a hold of your wrist & guides you over to the matted open area.

"Okay so to start off, lets sit on the ground & put your legs straight out in front of you & set your hands out as far as you can." Changbin says, already getting into position. You copy him & you do what he asks as he gets up & pushes your back slightly to get that extra stretch. You hold it for 30 seconds before he helps you stand back up.

"Do i really need to stretch? my back is still pretty stretched out along with my legs from when you had my feet up past my head earlier when you had folded me in half, probably not the only thing that's still a bit stetched still hm?" you flirt with him, he playfully hits your shoulder. "yaaah! not.. here, i won't be able to handle it" he whispers back, trailing his fingers along your stomach as he kisses the sweet spot behind you ears. You let out a small hum then pull away. "I was being serious! but fine, what should i do now?" You ask, putting your arms above your head & just stretching normally, scrunching your eyes together, Changbin licks his lips subconsciously. "ehhh, lets have you just simply touch your toes hm? try hold it." he says, coming up behind you to help you with keeping you as folded as possible but as he is doing this, his covered cock is now against your ass & your cheeks blush.

You hold it, quite liking the burn in the back of your legs but liking the feeling of binnie pressed against your ass more. You let out a small huff & a second later you're pulled up abruptly by Changbins calloused hands around your waist. "You said 30 seconds didn't you?" you ask, slightly confused. "yeah but that guy over there kept staring at you & i didn't appreciate it." He says, glancing over at the guy who was in the gym when you arrived is now slightly closer, 'on his phone'. "ooo my jealous baby" you smile at him, kissing his cheek & scratching under his chin like a catplayfully. "anyways, let's just go on the treadmill or something for now hm?" you ask, holding his hand in your & nods, still got a bit of a frown on his face.

~TIME SKIP~

It's been an hour & you & changbin have been on multiple areas, he helped you get used to a lot of leg strength machines just to show you how they worked but mainly helped you train arms. The other guy has since now left & its just you two left in the gym. "Okay so to finish up, why not we do some squats hm? it helps arms & obviously your glutes too. I'll help your form so don't worry jagi." He says, picking up two 20lb weights & giving them to you. You sigh loudly as you take them & Changbin helps you get into position. You squat down, looking into the same mirror as earlier & hold it, changbin holding your hips. "your ass looks good like this, i could get used to helping you" he says, giving it a playful slap. You wince at the slap & drop the weights before standing up right. "stop the teasing binnie! I need to take this seriously if i want results." you giggle back before grabbing his hands & putting them back on your waist as you pick up the weights again & continuing.

"y/n you need to put your legs slightly further apart." He says & you try to slightly split them, still in your position. "wait, a little bit less jagi, wait i'ma try something" He says & before you get to respond, you see changbin lying down & starting to slide underneath your legs. "They should be as far apart as how wide the bottom of my ribs are, mkay? I know you know that much so try think about it that way." You giggle as you look down & see his cute, pretty smile & face looking up at you. You nod as you breathe through your mouth & he starts so slide back out from underneath you but he notices something... a small wet spot right where your crotch is. "jagi, drop the weights for a second." You don't need to think twice since your arms are burning along with your legs at this point, dropping them to the sides.

You stand up as changbin finishes sliding out from under you & is behind you again & he wraps his huge arms around your chest & waist as he kisses your neck back. He nibbles your earlobe & whispers; "meet me in the changing rooms in a minute, cameras are watching us & they might come find us if we leave at the same time" He kisses your cheek before leaving, leaving you excited & also confused.

You put the weights away & try look busy for a few minutes before you head into the boys changing rooms & you are immediately ambushed by changbins lips. You moan into it with surprise before he leans you against the wall, large hand resting on it right next to your head as he has the other hand loosely wrapped around your neck. "Wheres this suddenly came from hm? Couldn't wait until we got home, no?" You tease, your own hand coming own to play with his sweatpants drawstrings. " suddenly? Hope you know you have a literal wet patch on your leggings baby, you sure you weren't just waiting for me to do this hm?" he teases back, fingers from your neck trailing under your sports bra to begin pinching your nipples, you whine in response. "Well how can you expect me to not be wet when your hands were basically touching me more than my own clothes hmm? grinding against me?" You say, pawing his joggers & boxers down just enough to free his cock.

You kiss his lips again before slouching down to your knees & taking a hold of his thick dick in your hand, fingers just barely wrapping fully around it. You begin kitten licking the tip & along the sides, paying extra attention to the sweet spot right under the bottom of his tip, he lets out a low groan in response. "Jagi please, don't tease.. Can i just put it in you? i'm desperate baby" he whines, thrusting his dick in your hands, tip hitting your tongue & lips. "I would say no & suck your soul out but my jaw is still sore from earlier when you fucked my face." you smirk up at hiss blushed cheeks & damp sweaty hair as you stand up & he helps pull your leggings just below your ass as your face is pressed against the wall.

"your ass is so perfect gorgeous, to die for." changbin hums, giving it a light smack & caress. "you sure you can take it baby hm? want me to open you with my tongue or something first? you know i'm big." He asks in a sweet tone as his fingers are spreading your folds, teasing you further. You whine & squirm at the contact as he plays with your pussy open, trying to get more contact. "I can take it Bin' i should be able to since you fucked me so good earlier, please put it in" you whine, moving your head so you can make eye contact with him. He nods as he grabs his cock again & pumps it twice before lining it up at your entrance & then pushes just the tip in, you let out a breathy gasp.

"H-holy fuck.. s-so big oh my" you whimper out, feeling his heavy tip splitting you open.

"Told you baby, i'm gonna push in more now mkay?" he asks as he leans & kisses your shoulder as he starts paving his way into your velvet walls, him holding his breath subconsciously as you let out a long whine at the feeling, eyes scrunched together as you finally feel his balls hit the bottom of your cunt.

"so wet for me baby, letting me into you like this, so good for me hunny, can i move now hmm?" he asks in a higher pitched voice, stroking your hair as he does so. "yes.. j-just move.. p-please Binnie please" you reply, fingers trying to dig into the walls with how much you're trying to grip the walls. He hums before letting go of your hair & starts a slow but strong stroke movement. You start letting out raspy whines as you hear skin clapping around the room as his cock quite literally splits you in half.

"F-f-uck Bi-binnie already gon' cum, holy shi" you moan, clenching around his cock unintentionally. Changbin lets out a satisfied whine as his hand slithers down to start rubbing your clit which makes you start squirming even more, moans getting louder. Changbin smacks your pussy lightly "Shhh we need to be quiet baby mkay? we are in a gym remember." he whispers in your ears as your eyes roll to the back of your head, being reduced to a melted pile against the wall he's fucking you into.

His hand resumes its movement on your clit as you cum around his dick, walls not being able to clench too much due to the genuine thickness of his cock in you. "good girl, cumming around me like this, so hot for me." He gives you a moment rest from the abuse on your clit before he starts resuming his movements, making you thrash but it's no use as he wraps his hand in your hair as he lifts you so you're now positioned back to chest as his thick, muscly arm wraps around your waist & stomach as he continues pounding your now red & swollen cunt.

His hips start to stutter & you know he's close but you're in too much of your own world to propely mention it. "Bin' s-so f-ffull.. fuck" you say but comes out as a raspy whisper at this point due to the amount of moaning you've been letting through your lips, your voice is now starting to leave. "awk yeah? so full in you hm? why not you have a better feel?" he asks as he grabs you hand & presses it into your own lower tummy & you let out an even bigger groan at feeling his dick quite literally fucking into you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder as you feel it, moving the angle of your head just enough so you can reach changbins lips & you kiss him full of tongue as you feel his hot release painting your walls as his hips stutter. His eyebrows furrow as he lets out a high pitched groan into your lips, hair stuck to his face.

You break the kiss to let you both catch your breath back. " that's definitely in one of the top 3 best quickies we've ever had & definitely the hotttest, i love you pretty pretty." he says to you in deep breaths, smiling at you as you lean your arms against the wall again. You go to reply when someone knocks on the changing room door... it is an employee. You both shoot a glance at eachother with wide eyes, trying not to laugh, You mouth the words 'I love you too & i agree' & you go to hide in one of the cubicles as changbin quickly pulls his sweatpants back up before unlocking the changing room door. "uh yeah? anything wrong?" he asks through the door, voice tinged with embarrassment.

[stellayuta]

Rin doing Yoga in the anime had me bawlinggg idk why It also put the image of Yoga Sex with Rin in my mind and now I can't stop thinking about ittt

How about writing something about that?

thanks for putting the image in my head too

mdni, 18+ only

★Rin Itoshi - Yoga S*x☆

The 'R' in Rin stood for routine. He was awake by 5 AM and done with his early morning strength training and jog by 7 AM. To ease the pain of exhausting his stamina and muscles at dawn, he chose Yoga as a means to stretch his body out and soothe the soreness. The upkeep of being a pro footballer was not a regular man's deal after all.

You had never seen his routine ever before because you loved your sleep more than Rin did. In fact, you only knew about his routine in detail because his sports manager scolded him because he refused to take a break from working out even during his off time from the football season. You on the other hand, if there wasn't a reason to wake up before 8:00 AM, you won't. That was the law. Usually, you'd just join a freshly rejuvenated Rin for a hearty breakfast with a yawn and kickstart your day.

One fine morning though, you were forced awake by the sheer heat of the house. It was the middle of the harshest summer Japan had to offer as of late, and you were hoping that for whatever reason the AC was off, it'd better be a good one. You got out of the bed, kicking the musty sheets away from you and swiped at the sweat forming on your forehead. You were melting away even when you were only in a pair of skimpy shorts and a paper-thin tank top. You checked the time before you made your way out of your bedroom - 7:00 AM. The rest of the house was a degree cooler than your oven-like bedroom, but it was enough for you to forget where the thermostat was. That's when you remember that it was Rin who usually handled the thermostat. Maybe it was him who switched the AC off? But... why?

You make your way to the living room to locate the thermostat and are greeted by the most astonishing and unexpected sight right in front of you.

Rin Itoshi's bare back is facing you as he stretches himself out into complicated poses on his yoga mat while soaking in the radiant sun seeping in from the open windows. There is not a single item of clothing on his body. He sighs as he skillfully changes positions and focuses on the left side of his body, balancing himself on the mat. You gawk at his marvelous form as Rin's body shines lusciously under the sunlight, as if lathered by coconut oil and Epsom salts and his own sweat - which it probably is.

"Rin?" you call out without meaning to, making the Itoshi jerk his head up in confusion and smiling when he sees you.

"You up early?" he asks as if he isn't laid out in front of you like a whole meal ready to be ravished.

"Well, the AC woke me up." you say honestly, approaching him as he seats himself on his mat in a lotus pose. You stare at how his limp member and ball sack hang, tucked inside his folded thighs. That's all you can stare at or pay attention to now as you feel a shiver creep up your core and you press your legs together.

"That was my bad. I'm sorry, I usually do this out on the balcony but the neighbors are doing garden-work and obviously, I don't want them to see." he says. Foolish Rin...

"Have you been out on the balcony doing yoga butt naked everyday?" you exclaim. "Rin! People other than the neighbors can see you too you idiot!"

"Are you worried someone might click pictures?" he asks coyly, holding out his hand to entrap yours. It is all slick and sticky with oil and heats up your body even more.

"Have you seen yourself? Anyone would." You say, playing with the hem of your shorts with your other hand. Things are getting sticky inside your body too now.

"Want to try it?" Rin asks, already sliding your shorts down your bare thighs. You don't sleep with underwear on when wearing those pair of shorts. "Oh, look at that." Rin says, cocking his head at the bare delta of your womanhood.

"Come here." he says, kissing your mound generously making you whimper. You grab at his green hair and try to stop yourself from crumbling.

"Y/N. Position your knee like this." he says, folding you knee and pressing your foot to the thigh of your other leg.

"Hands up and palms together." he demands and you follow, keenly trying to balance on one leg. "That's the tree pose." he tells you and you nod. "Great position for what I'm about to do." he says with a smirk, inching closer, his lower lashes hitting your thighs.

The way Rin ravages you over the next few minutes has you praying you don't fall over. The position gives Rin enough freedom to hit some of the most stubborn and well-hidden bundles of nerve inside you with relative ease. His tongue is as flexible as his body was a while ago. You are left croaking as Rin digs his nails into the sides of thighs, shamelessly making slurping noises as he eats you out. Soon enough, you let your hands free from the pose and start rolling your hips onto his face, eyeing him from the top - his reactions, the way his brows tense up, the way he looks up at you occasionally. You force him to hit your most sensitive innards as you finally come undone on his tongue and face without asking. Unbeknownst to you, the lewdness of the whole situation and Rin's skill made you come a LOT. As your eyes are shut and you are unable to process anything around you, Rin is collecting your plentiful essence in his palms. When you finally come to and regain your usual breathing rhythm you find Rin playing with the sticky substance in his hands.

"R-rin?" you ask, eyelids half closed. "What are you doing with that, wipe it off!"

"Nah." Rin says, keeping his eyes on your cum in his hands. "I was in a dilemma since I ran out of oil for you, but you solved my problem." he says and it takes a second for you to understand what he's about to do.

He takes his palms and rubs them all over your body. Your chest, your hips, your navel and your thighs.

"Feel good?" he asks, pressing your back to make you lay on the ground on all fours. "Feels good to be covered in your own slick?"

"Anything for you, Rinnie." you say, wondering why he is pulling one of your legs horizontally. "You're so weird you know."

"I know." he admits. "Balancing Table Pose."

"Wha-?" Before you can finish your question though, Rin rams full force into you from behind. "Keep you other hand up, pretty please. I don't like it when the form is incorrect."

you sniff as your muscles hurt from maintaining the pose. Yet still, after a few seconds your body gets used to it and the pleasure doubles as one each of your arms and legs is up in the air while Rin's pace increases. He presses his chest against your back and keeps the rhythm going, pounding in and out savagely. His angle is so unpredictable, his length is going left and right and top and bottom inside of you, making you scream his name in pleasure. You feel the head of his member in full intensity with one leg up and you feel it's bulbous shape ebb at your cervix with how long Rin is. You so want to see how red his tip is, how angrily it must be leaking out pre-cum right now.

"Ah, just a bit more." he says next to your ear, huffing and puffing as he increases the power of his thrust as you feel your eyes roll back into your head.

"Ah, There. Yes!" Rin scrunches up his face. "Yes!" his tongue lolls out - an occurrence when he is at peak pleasure.

He empties himself inside of you as you feel your abdomen fill up with his sticky liquid.

"There we go." he says, gasping and pulling himself out of you as you drip all over onto his mat, sinking to your knees.

"Session Complete." he says, bringing his towel to your hole.

[viovicugna]

Headcanons about the Obey Me brothers (Mammon, Leviathan, Lucifer, Belphagor and Beelzebub)

Mammon

• Mammon does a little dance when he gets excited, mostly after winning something. He calls it 'the Mammon Groove' everyone else calls it cute stupid.

• He talks very loudly and can't always control it, due to ADHD.

• He heckles like ~ kekekeke ~ when he plans a new get-rich-quick scheme. And lets out a bird like scream when he gets scared. That's why no one enjoys watching horror movies with Mammon. It sounds like they're strangling a turkey.

• He picks on his food. Eats little bites from everything in no order. Lucifer tried making him quit because he's very messy while doing it. But it didn't work, has since given up.

• He's really good at mimicking voices, only Lucifer can tell when it's Mammon.

• Mammon will hoard anything shiny under his bed and forget about it. So there's like forks from the year 1469 that he once stole from the Queen or smt.

Leviathan

• Levi doesn't have to blink in his Demon and True Form. His eyes are covered with thin, see through scales, his eyes have a shiny, iridescent look to them because of it.

• He forgets to blink in his Human Form, so his eyes are often irritated and dry. They're constantly reddened and teary due to it. Asmo hates it and forces him to take eye drops. Like literally forces, he holds him down-

• He picks at his skin a lot. MC freaked out when he pealed off a chunck of his arm skin. But no worries, his skin is thick and he has more layers than humans.

• Has a slight lisp because snake.

• Hisses when he's being dramatic. "Levi get up-" "HIZZZZZZZ NO THE SUN! I'M BURNING-"

• Cuddling with him is like doing yoga. He finds a way that his left leg will end up on your shoulder, his right leg wrapped around your left, his left arm around your waist, his right arm around your neck, and his head under your arm-

• His tongue just bleeps often. It just hangs out his mouth while playing games, or when he's sewing. Anytime he's focused.

• Has a split tongue and can do tricks with it (not like that you pervert-). Thought about getting it pierced, but got stuck on where he could even get it pierced and freaked out at the thought of someone having to look in his mouth. What if his breath smells bad, what if he drools, what if his teeth are-

• His fangs in his Demon Form are venomous, but they only work on Demons. Angels get something like blood poisoning from it. And for Humans it's like taking LSD.

Belphagor

• Everything about Belphie is soft, except his tongue. That bitch feels like sand paper. And he uses that as an advantage when MC messes with him. Sadistic fuck (endearment) only laughs at their misery.

• Has the most beautiful lashes you will ever see. Asmo is shaking in his chanel boots (I wanted to put gucci first but Mammons a gucci guy, Asmo so isn't-). Literally so pretty. Has double lashes (two rows).

• On the theme of eyes, his eyes are gorgeous. Uses that to his advantage also. One pity look and you wanna give him your social security number. They're big and always a little droopy with sleepyness. The only one who can deny him is Beel surprisingly.

• Loves laying on grass. It's the perfect sleeping spot for him.

• Have you seen shampooed cows? His hair is always that fluffy. Once went a month without washing it so it just hung flat, straight down. Then the brothers forced him to take a bath.

• Beel and Belphie, flies and cows ya get it-

• When scared he does that thing that goats do where he runs then falls and acts dead. Just that he's a little gremlin who's waiting for the person to get close enough to attack- It doesn't work on his siblings unfortunately. Be warned, if MC goes anywhere near him then they will be dragged down and cuddled to death. Belphie just lays on them so they can't escape.

• Huffs when frustrated, Beel got that from him.

Lucifer

• Lucifer spends a surprising amount of time grooming himself for how busy he is. Barely anyone notices, but he constantly readjusts his cuffs, gloves, hair, etc. Always takes a quick look in the mirror when there is one. Either smirks, because 'of course, everything is perfect' or furrows his brows and tucks an out of place hair back.

• Walks elegantly with long strides. Never seeming to be in a hurry unless it's an emergency.

• Holds his head high. Very intimidating to lower class Demons.

• Lucifer despises to admit that he also makes sounds close to a Peacocks ~ gobble gobble ~. He only does so when someone scares him, you can guess how many times that happens. Once MC startled him because he forgot they were still in his office. After he made that sound he didn't dare look MC in the eyes for the next week.

• He rattles his feathers to impress or intimidate. When MC is near him whilst he's in his Demon or True form you can observe him constantly flexing his wings and spreading them out to catch their attention.

• Affectionately fixes his brothers and MCs appearances when something's out of place. That's why Satan wears his jacket so fucked. Lucifer helped him put it on once, he took the sleeve off again so they had a fight about his sleeve. Had to stick with it from then on, it's a pride (or wrath ig) thing.

• If someone would pick him up never gonna happen his wings go ~ flop flop ~ because his brain is like 'oh okay, we're flying now'. If your MC is super strong please live mt dream and princess cary Luci around.

• He ties MCs shoes and zips up their jackets for them. He used to do that with the brothers, but they always complain that they're not children anymore. Let the dad be a dad goddamit-

Beelzebub

• Give Beel sugar water. Just water with sugar, he will nip on it for the next hour. It's like a drug, but more weed than cocaine. It calms him down and he just goes blank.

• He rubs his hands together as a habit like flies do.

• His standard position is one hand holding the other. He often rubs his thumb over the back of his other hand to calm down. Tries calming MC if they're worried by grasping their hands in his.

• Beel has trouble registering purely white objects. So when MC held a paper infront of his face he just went 😟

• Sometimes his eyes 'glitch' and he sees double. Has a lazy eye prob.

• In his demon form his wings go ~ buzz buzz ~ randomly.

• Insect phobia triggered

• He huffs when angry, a habit he got from Belphie.

• Beel feels naturally drawn to light, so he subconsciously sits closest to the next light source always. That's why he likes standing so close to MC, cuz to them humans glow (personal hc).

• Similar to Levi Beel sometimes forgets to blink. In his demon and true form he has a very thin, irredecant layer of skin covering his eyes. In his demon and true form it kinda looks like his eyes have multiple sections due to it. Kinda like how a fly's eyes look.

• Beel loves the smell of sweat-

• MC just done running from an angry Lucifer or smt idk, just sweaty and Beel's like "You smell good MC 😊"

• He's like a fly fr. You leave your food out for a second turn around, turn back and he's there on your plate-

[ornii]

Could you please tag me in all the parts of my kind of crazy? Cuz i found part 1 and 2 but cant find the rest. And if there is no more could you please continue it?

Yeah I still need to learn how Tagging works, so if anyone can, let me know. But to answer your question no I haven’t made a part three

Until now!

My Kind of Crazy, Part 3

Inside the run down office building, Red Hood motions for Deadshot to follow him. Katana watches them closely as Red Hood opens the door and they both step in, the room was a large office space with multiple computers running programs and systems. And FBI workers tearing and wiping the files. And the one ordering them around was Amanda Waller arguing with Flag.

“You wouldn't have made it without them.” She spoke, packing.

“We got lucky. I don't do luck. I do planning and precision.” Rick replies, and Waller shrugs it off.

“Admit it, Rick. I was right.” She spoke, and Flag wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, I told you to get on the damn truck. Why'd you stay?” He eyed Waller, who stopped packing and gave flag a harsh reality check.

“I was studying your girlfriend. She takes an average person, a yoga mom, an elderly retiree, and she turns them into a soldier who can take a headshot and still fight. It's an instant army. How'd she do it, Flag? How'd she game the system with you watching her every move?” Waller asked, it it was obvious she knew the answer already. Flag buried his pain and ignored the question.

“I'll accept the consequences.” He said

“I am your consequence.” Waller replied with stern emphasis. Just as he prepares to weasel out again, Deadshot and Red Hood approached.”You might need to be careful. They think we're rescuing Nelson Mandela.” Deadshot eyes Waller, who walks past him

“I can take care of myself. Shut it down, wipe the drives.” She gives the order to the Agents who continue to wipe their digital prints from this Operation. Deadshot leans into flags ear as he watches Waller.

“Uh, hey, man, I know you can't hear me 'cause you're trapped in your temple of soldierly self-righteousness, but a two-faced dude like you wouldn't survive a second on the street.” Deadshot points out the obvious Hypocrisy, Flag being called out for lying about this High Value Target.

“Oh, says the guy who shoots people for money.” Flag retorts, Red turns quickly to Waller at the sound of gunfire. Waller has systematically executed the workers. Red could only watch, knowing Waller or Flag could turn his brain into mush. Waller leaves, and Red Hood eyes flag, who doesn’t look very happy about what he’s just witnessed.

“That is just a mean lady.” Deadshot follows.

“Yeah. You get used to it.” Flag grumbled, Red walks past him, “I don’t think a good soldier would let innocent people die, but what do I know right?” Red and Deadshot exit the room, and the Squad see who they’ve been made to protect. Waller and Flag step out into the frying pan of sorts.

“Let's go home.” Flag ordered, it it wasn’t on a natural bass, more of a coercive tone, but it obviously wasn’t working.

“Yeah, let's go home. That sounds good. You guys wanna go home? Or you wanna go back to prison?” Boomerang said, obviously sarcastic, they all had their reasons for not going back home.

“What I'm saying is we kill the pair of 'em now before they kill us.” Boomerang said, which many of agree with, slowly surrounding them, “I got this.” Waller took this one herself, letting Katana and Flag watch, she stepped before the squad, “You all made it this far. Don't get high-spirited on me and ruin a good thing.” Waller shows the explosive device in her hand, much like the one Flag has, all set to explode just like Red Hood predicted. The Squad all share a glance, and they reluctantly escort Waller to the roof. The dark sky has hints of neon lights and flames dance in the sky. Regrouping with Flags men they watch a Helicopter fly towards the Building.

“Savior One-Zero, this is Ground Element. Savior One-Zero, how copy? Savior One-Zero, the LZ's clear.” One of Flags men tries to hail down the Chopper, but no response.

“Boss, they're not talking to me.” He spoke, and Flag quickly assessed the situation, “Our bird's been jacked. Light it up!” Flag and his men open fire on the Helicopter, its panel opens up to Joker, dressed in a suit and with an AK opening fire with manic laughter, a minigun mounted on the heli also opens fire on them, ducking behind AC generators to keep from getting torn to shreds. Red Peers over the unit and his eyes catch a glimpse of that face, the manic laughter, the pale skin. A flood of rage built into Red and he leaped over the Unit, firing his dual pistols at the helicopter. Titanium composite hollow tipped bullets, with a C4 Kicker, explosive ammunition he made himself, the shots land hard on the wall that actually begin to make a dent. They turn the Minigun to him and looks to shred him, before Red can get turned into mince meat, Diablo comes in and tackles him before another AC Unit. He saved Red, who looked at the man, he shrugged it off and kept down to avoid bullet fire, but this wasn’t a random attack it was coordinated, Harley begins to walk to the Helicopter, and Waller orders Flag to execute her, but every tap of the device leads to an error. Harley leaps to the rope and escapes, leaving Waller one less of a member, and Red, a missed opportunity. Dead soldiers litter the roof and everyone steps out of cover, Waller making a B line for Deadshot.

“Deadshot, shoot that woman right now!” She yells, and Deadshot shrugs

“She ain’t do shit to me.” He said lazily

“You're a hitman, right? I got a contract. Kill Harley Quinn. Do it for your freedom and your kid.” Waller said, which was more than enough for him.

“Now she dead.” He walked to a Unit and mounted to fire, heat her Harley dance and swing around, and takes the shot, Harley’s body goes limp, but she suddenly laughs and swings more around, Deadshot missing on purpose, he walked back to the ground.

“I missed.” He said, and Red wasn’t listening, all he felt was red, his chance to kill the Joker, gone. He walked over to the corpse of one of the soldiers, snatching a rifle from its cold dead hands and he mounts up as well, everyone watches as the helicopter takes a slight left. He took everything into consideration and fired, the bullet flew and it hit the cockpit and straight through the pilots skull. They watched the helicopter spiral and go down. Red turned to the group and dropped his gun.

“Got what I wanted… We done here?” He said, everyone was silent, showing the ruthless cold side of the Red Hood. No one knew how to take it, but it’s safe to say for the Red Hood, that felt good. Another Heli picked up Waller and they left. Flag waits as the chopper soars off into the night deploying Flares. Minutes pass and Flag calls in, and listens.

“Ops just confirmed. She's down. 1k west. Let's go get her. The mission's not over.” Flag and his men turned to the exit with the “Heroes”

“Nah. It is for me. We had a deal.” Deadshot spoke up for most of them, everyone.

“Without Waller, you got nothing.” Flag walked off, and the group reluctantly follows. Making ground back on the floor they run into a less than happy Harley Quinn, who survived somehow. She spots them and attempts to put on a happy face.

“So.. shot any good birds lately?” she asked, mixed with sarcasm and scorn.

“One… if it means anything I wasn’t aiming for you.” Red Replies.

“I could kill you..” Harley grumbled

“You’d die trying..” Red replies as they approached Wallers downed chopper. Tears the door open croc side stepped to let them see. But no Waller. Dead corpses but none hers. Red Activated his detective mode in his visor. He scans around and they’re dead.

“I don’t see any of Wallers blood, gun residue everywhere though.. she tried to fight off whoever came for her.. rains going to be a pain in the pass to pick up any blood or sweat to track.”

“What’s your point?” Deadshot asked, Red turned to him. “My Point.. is that they captured her, they didn’t want her dead.. that have some use for her. But for what, I don’t know.” He said, and spots Wallers bag and began to ruffle though it. And sees a black binder and begins to sift though it and red was silent, he turned to Deadshot and handed him the binder. “The Hell’s this?” He asked.

“Why we’re here..” he responds, Deadshot reads it and looked back up to Red, he angrily takes the binder and storms off to Flag, he hurls the binder at the wall and everyone turns to flag. Deadshot and Flag are eye to eye.

“You tell everybody everything. Or me and you gonna go right now.” He said, and flag’s face told a story, and he reluctantly explained. “Three days ago, a non-human entity appeared in the subway station, So Waller sent me and a woman with incredible abilities. Enchantress. A witch. See, nobody could get near this thing, but the witch could. Needless to say, the whole thing was a bad idea, the woman was… possessed by the Enchantress, she’s held captive by her. We were going to blast a hole in the subway under the entity and.. she tricked us with the bomb, And that's how she escaped from Waller. So now you know.” Flag explained his turmoil, to everyone who listened and everyone respectfully was sick of it. Red scoffed, “we’re sent on this death mission to fix your fuck up..” he folds his arms, and Deadshot shook his head and looked around, and saw a Bar.

“You can just kill me right now, but I'm going to have a drink.” Deadshot walked off and Harley follows.

“Hey, Deadshot, I need your help.” Flag pleads, but flint shook his head

“No, sir. You need a miracle.” Deadshot and the others head in, Red Hood was the last to leave and looks Flag up and down. “Might as well call the big man in the sky for that.” He gave one last stinger and walked into the bar, he saw the others enjoying their drinks and slumped in a seat next to Deadshot. Harley was tending and eyed the man.

“Oh, Dead Hood.” Harley still has a pretty sharp bone to pick with him.

“Not my name…” he responded and Deadshot looks around.

“Well, we almost pulled it off despite what everybody thought.”

“We weren’t picked to succeed..” Diablo chimes in, and Deadshot agrees, “Worst part of it is, they're going to blame us for the whole thing. And they can't have people knowing the truth. We're the patsies. The cover-up. Don't forget, we're the bad guys. And, uh, for about two sweet seconds, I had hope.” Deadshot flushed down his drink.

“You had hope, huh? Hope don't stop the wheel from turning, my brother.” Diablo looks at the empty shot glass before him

“You preaching?”

“It's coming back around for you. How many people you killed, man?” Diablo asks Deadshot, who admittedly probably doesn’t even know, the bodies left in his wake. “It’s Karma for us, especially for me..” he continued

“See, I was born with the Devil's gift. I kept it hidden for most of my life, but... The older I got, the stronger it got. So I started using it. For business, you know. The more power on the street I got, the more fire power I got. Like, that shit went hand in hand. You know? One was feeding the other. Ain't nobody tell me no. Except my old lady. You know, she used to pray for me. Even when I didn't want it. God didn't give me this. Why should he take it away? See, when I get mad, I lose control. You know, I just... I don't know what I do..till it's done.” Diablo made a woman of fire in his hand.. and snuffed out her flame, Red listened, memories of his own father flooding on.

“And the kids?” Boomerang asked, fearful himself.

“He killed them.” Red spoke up, and he took off his helmet to reveal his face and sighed. “I remember…” Red stopped talking and shut up, almost revealing his other identity, but Harley wasn’t up for silence.

“Own that shit. Own it! What'd you think was gonna happen? Huh?” She said to Diablo.

“Hey, Harley. Come on.”

“What, you were just... Thinking you can have a happy family and coach little leagues, and make car payments? Normal's a setting on the dryer. People like us, we don't get normal!” She yelled, and Boomerang sharply put his glass down.

“Why is it always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth? You know, outside you're amazing. But inside, you're ugly. We all are.” He said, and Red piped up. “.. So, you just.. willow in that hole?” He started and stood up, he walked over to Diablo as everyone watched. “You kill your wife and kids and you think you deserve a cell for the rest of your life? Feeling sorry for yourself? I got a temper too so I understand, but you’re still in control of your actions.” Red turned to Harley.

“You know why I shot your chopper down?” He asked, everyone really leans in now. Red shows the J scar on his cheek, “see who I got this from?” He said, and Harley began to remember. “You’re—“

“I was.. Robin. I probably helped put a few of you in prison. I went after Joker by myself one time. Didn’t think Batman understood.. and my temper got me. He.. beat me, for days, starved, tortured me, and once in a while, I saw you in the corner, laughing. And when he finished, he blew me to pieces.. I was fourteen. Lazus pit.. Now look at me. This, was my choice... Now I gotta live with it. Same way you gotta live with it.” (Y/n) walked back to his seat, and slumped down.

Everyone was silent, he felt a glass tap his finger and he looked up to Harley give what he can only assume is an apology whiskey. “Mista J is.. not the best when it comes to dealing with kids. I guess I’m not either, maybe you were right when you said that.. maybe I’m just another victim, I mean what lady watches a man beat a.. teenager.” She said to herself, Red took it and downed it effortlessly. “I’m twenty two now, not a teenager anymore.”

For a moment it seemed the two can actually form a decent but obviously volatile relationship, but then, Flag enters the Bar and slumps down next to Red.

“We don't want you here.” Harley frowns, and Flag looks at Red, “You get to the part in that binder saying I was sleeping with her?” He said, Red raises an eyebrow. “Nope, I never been with a witch before. What's it like? I mean I’ve flirted with death before but I don’t go that far.” Red shrugged and Deadshot leaned to see Flag.

“Apparently, that's why the creatures chase him all the time. 'Cause the witch is scared of him.” He chuckled, but Flag shook his head, pain in his voice.

“The only woman I ever cared about is trapped inside that monster. If I don't stop the witch, it's over. Everything is over. Everything. You're free to go.” Flag smashes the device and breaks it, and Boomerage makes a break for it. Red sighs and turns to Flag. “Your girlfriend is going to destroy the world, isn’t she?” He asked, Flag was silent and Red put the mask Back on and gripped his pistols. “Well.. fuck it.” Red stood up. “Let’s go Flag.. least you can say you died tying.” Red walked away, and everyone watched him, and Deadshot sighed and stood up and followed out, Red peeked back in.

“Yo Harley, you coming?” He asked, she shrugged and grabbed her baseball bat. “Don’t have anything else better to do.” She said and followed, everyone now filled with a bit of nepotistic energy follow, if they head into the abyss, at least they go in screaming. flag has the back of the squad, even if they’re “Criminals.” And Captian Boomerang comes back, like a, Boomerang.

Outside the large square, the squad now prep for the final assault, Red tossing a camera to a wall and using his visor to look around, “looks like there’s a woman.. and a massive guy next to her, that’s our targets?”

“Yeah. It isn’t going to be easy getting to her, I did leave a big demo charge down there in that subway. There's a flooded tunnel, leads right underneath that building. SEALs, they can recover the charge, swim in underneath that thing's feet. We get in its face and distract the hell out of that son of a bitch so the swimmers can blow the bomb. That's how we take it out.” Flag gives a solid plan. Croc pipes up

“I'm going with ya.” He spoke to the SEALS, as if they had some choice.

“We got this.” One said, and croc tore off his upper shirt and jacket. “I'm not asking, bro. I live underground. Y'all are just tourists.” Croc and the seals swim in the flooded subway and the main squad prepare for a literal suicide mission. They walked along the subway and corpses strung the pillars. Blood and black ooze follow. They reach the central station platform. Inside felt like a theatre of darkness, whatever dark magic she was conjuring.

“Hey, everyone can see all this trippy magic stuff, right?” Harley asks

“Yeah. Why?” Red replies.

“I'm off my meds.” She weakly smiled. Deadshot and Flag look to the center, of Enchantress continuing to open the

“So that's your old lady?” Deadshot nods in approval.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you need to handle this shit, all right? Get up there, smack on her ass, tell her, "Knock this shit off." Deadshot said, which flag couldn’t tell if he was being serious it not.

“I do not think that'd be wise. I'm gonna draw out the big one. My boys will detonate the bomb underneath him.” Flag gives the order but before they step out, Enchantress calls out to them.

“I've been waiting for you all night. Step out of the shadows. I won't bite. Why are you here? Because the soldier led you? And all for Waller. Why do you serve those who cage you? I am your ally. And I know what you want.” The woman calls out, and begins to show the squad their true dreams, what they truly wish for, Deadshot to rewrite that day, Harley., a family. And (Y/n), who stood across Bruce with a smile, as he’s still Robin.

“Alright Bruce.. what’s on tonight?”

“Patrol, Arkham’s never safe.” He said sternly, (Y/n) gave a smirk and nodded. He felt the suddenly jank of reality, Red saw Diablo in his face.

“It's not real. She trying to play games with you, man. - It's not real!” He yells to all of them, who slowly come down from their dream, and step out to face enchantress. She sees her tricks didn’t work, and frowns.

“The sun is setting, and the magic rises. The metahumans are a sign of change.” Enchantress saw their minds aren’t changing now, and casted a spell, stomping from the back the larger monster approached.

“Who's this?”

“It's gonna be bad!”

“We should run.”

Red Didn’t take advice well and charges in, leaping past its tendrils and firing off his rounds, it began to bend the mental skin and make the monster cry out. He leaped onto its back and slammed an explosive charge on it, he hurls red hood off of him. Deadshot takes aim and hits the explosive dead on, but no effect! Boomerang hurls his boomerangs that do not to stop it, the monster grabs the Australian by the neck and prepares to turn him as well. Kitana leaps off a counter and slices the hand off with a clean cut, only for the Mayan grow it back, bullets and explosives only infuriate it. Before Harley can get crushed by the Mayan for a bat swing, Red fires his grappling hook to her shirt and reels her to safety.

“We can get him in the corner.” Red pops off more shots, and Diablo steps up!

“I lost one family. I ain't gonna lose another one. I got this. Let me show you what I really am.” Diablo rushed forward and blast a bellow of flames at it, only to infuriate the monster who kicks him away. It awaken the true El Diablo! His body underwent a harrowing transformation into El Diablo! The meta human battles with the Mayan. Pushing him to the edge he and the Mayan are right at the corner

“Diablo, get clear! Get outta there!” Flag yells, the Meta turns to them, “Blow it!” He orders, and Red watched The Mayan and Diablo go up in smoke and rubble in the explosion. He laid for it.. he lived. And died with his choice. Red stood up and walked to the hole, but he forgot that this battle was far from over, Enchantress still had her power.

“My spell is complete. Once you and your armies are gone, my darkness will spread across this world. And it will be mine to rule.” Enchantress activated her portal, which begins to tear the world apart. And the true enchantress escapes, her body devoid of color, black, like the ooze leaking from all she touches, and she attacks them, their bullets, blades, nothing can harm her!

“You got a move here, Flag?” Red tackled flag out of the way from getting his head taken off.

“We gotta cut her heart out. While we're fighting, that thing's laying waste to the whole damn world.” Flag said, “You guys have any plans on cutting her heart out?”

“I got one..” Red said. “How long have you been thinking about it?” Harley adds in.

“Maybe five minutes..” Red begins to try something, anything, tapping into the power of the Lazuris pit and felt a heartbeat within it all. A hilt of pure red energy began to emit from his heart. He gripped the handle with both palms and pulled it from him, a red blade of energy was now his. “Huh, this might work.. I cut her chest open and you guys tear the heart!” Red gives the order and charges in, Enchantress swings and fires magic, Red put the blade up and it began to deflect the magic, he leapt forward with a slash and fought Enchantress in the arm. It cut her body made of magic. Her body couldn’t heal from it, the scar emitting a red haze. She looked up worried and Red begins to put more pressure on her, and catches her right on the chest with an upward slash, Enchantress screams in pain, and the squad see the chance, Harley, Deadshot, Kitana and Boomerag grab her arms and legs and flag comes from behind. Just for the moment Enchantress was taken aback, and Red goes in with a blade straight though her heart. Time slows down as the enchantress blinked. The light leaving her eyes in a flash the eruption of light left the station and the bleak sun shined though, and June was right before Red. Confused and why a sword was though her body Which disappeared. Flag realized that his June was back, and hugged her. I suppose it was a happy ending

“Y'all don't mind, I got me a sewer to crawl back into.” Croc turns to leave and Red sighed and turned to the front, “Yeah, and I got some business to handle back in Gotham.” Red dusts himself off

“I'm going to hotwire a car. Need a ride?” Harley offered, but before he can reply, Waller, who’s somehow still alive steps out with her explosive device.

“How are you not dead?” Deadshot said in disbelief. “We just saved the world. A "thank you" would be nice.” Harley spoke, and Waller tilts her head “Thank you.” She said sarcastically, “You're welcome.” Harley replies with a smile.

“So, we did all of this and we don't get shit?”

“Ten years off your prison sentences.”

“Nah, that's not enough. I'm seeing my daughter.” Deadshot kept his eyes locked on Waller who reluctantly agreed.

“That can be arranged. Any other requests?” “An espresso machine.” Harley said

“…BET.” croc nods, and Boomerang scoffs.

“Ten years off a triple life sentence? Darling, I'm walking out of here a free man or we're going to start having some real fun.” He approaches Waller, who coldly stepped up to Boomerang. “Why don't we have some fun?” She replies scaring the piss out of the Captian. Red shrugged, he got his revenge after all.

Back at Belle Reeve, (Y/n) sits in his cell, footsteps echo from the Door and he cracks his knuckles, ready to fight.

“Whoever it is… gonna put.. 14 in the ICU.” He said, and the voice of God, Waller spoke to him. “That won’t be needed, you’re getting released.”

“…What?” He stood up from his bed, staring at the Door expecting death, what opened was something much more than that, he could only muster one word

“…Bruce?”

@henkermen

[p0orbaby]

Slow Motion Mountain Climber

summary: leah signs up for pilates, what could go wrong?

warnings: none

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 981

-

Leah texts you on a Tuesday morning, right before your alarm, like she does whenever something has gone terribly wrong in her life. Like when she found out gluten was in soy sauce, or when she discovered she might have to use that godforsaken 6 train in New York. This time, it's a message that reads: Just signed up for Pilates. You may never see me again.

You roll your eyes, groaning at the incoming rant that's sure to follow. Leah's the kind of person who only does new things for one of two reasons: someone dared her, or she's trying to prove to herself that she is still young and can get away with eating three chocolate croissants in a single sitting. You suspect it’s a combination of both. She’s mentioned something about trying to build a "strong core," which you assume is code for "I'm slowly being bullied into this by the fact that all my teammates have six-packs and I have a soft spot for bread."

At 7:45 AM, just as you’re pouring coffee, Leah calls. You pick up on the third ring because you’re not a monster.

“I’m going to die,” she says, without so much as a hello

“Bold start to the day,” you reply. “Anything specific, or is it just a general feeling?”

“Pilates,” she says, and it sounds like a curse word. “Do you know what that is?”

You almost spit out your coffee because, yes, you know what Pilates is. You’re not sure what’s more shocking: that Leah doesn’t know or that she actually followed through on signing up.

“Yeah, Leah, I know what Pilates is”

“Well, it’s hell. No one told me it was this hard. And the instructor—she’s, like, smiling at me while she’s killing me. How are you supposed to trust someone who's trying to make you do something called a 'teaser' while she grins like a lunatic?”

You can picture it now. Leah, in the middle of a room full of people who've been doing this since their nannies signed them up for ballet at age three, contorting herself on a reformer like it’s some kind of medieval torture device. Meanwhile, the instructor—probably named something like Tiffani with an 'i'—is telling her to “engage her core,” as if Leah didn’t already have a job that required her to do that for 90 minutes straight, several times a week.

“Did you die, though?”

“Almost. My legs were shaking. My abs—I didn’t even know I had abs. Why does anyone do this willingly? I’ve literally been fouled by Fran Kirby, and that was less painful”

“Maybe you should stick to yoga”

“Yoga!” Leah scoffs. “I can do yoga. That’s just stretching and pretending you’re one with the universe or whatever”

You let her have that one because there’s no use arguing with someone who once mistook a meditation class for an excuse to nap in public.

Leah continues, “This class, though—it's not natural. They make you put your legs in straps. Straps! Like a harness, but for your feet. And then they expect you to lift them while you're suspended in the air like some sort of flying squirrel”

You’ve taken Pilates before, so you know exactly what she’s talking about, but you can’t help but laugh. Leah, in her infinite wisdom, probably signed up for the most advanced class because, as she said once, “Go big or go home.” Now, she’s paying for it.

“Maybe you should ask to start in a beginner class,” you suggest, knowing full well she won’t.

“Yeah, no. I already told them I’m an athlete. Can’t back down now. But I swear, if one more person tells me to ‘breathe through it,’ I’m going to punch them in the face”

You imagine the looks on the faces of her Pilates classmates as she throws a fit in the middle of a serene, candle-lit studio. You’ve seen Leah frustrated before, but this is a new level of agitation, and it’s all directed at something she willingly signed up for.

“Maybe it’s good for you,” you offer, “builds character”

“Yeah, and scars. On my pride”

You laugh again because you can see where this is going. Leah, who tackles challenges like they’re personal vendettas, is going to keep going back to that class until she can hold a plank longer than anyone else, even if it kills her. Or, more likely, until she finds something else to distract her, like knitting or extreme ironing.

"I’m just saying," she adds, after a pause, "if I end up with a six-pack, it’s because I earned it. None of this ‘strong core’ bullshit. I want abs of steel. Like, I want to be able to crack a walnut between my ribs”

You’re crying with laughter now, imagining Leah doing sit-ups in front of a mirror at home, testing her progress with various hard-shelled nuts.

“Don’t worry, babe,” you say, trying to calm yourself down. “If you do get abs of steel, I’ll make sure to bring walnuts everywhere we go”

“Good,” she replies, and you can hear her finally start to laugh along with you. “You’re on walnut duty. And if this all goes horribly wrong and I never make it out of Pilates alive, just know it was the straps that did me in”

You shake your head, still smiling. “You’ll be fine. But maybe next time, start with a class that doesn’t sound like it was designed by someone who secretly hates people”

Leah sighs dramatically. “Noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend the rest of the day lying flat on the floor and cursing Joseph Pilates”

“You do that, babe,” you say, hanging up as you imagine her sprawled out on the carpet, texting you updates about how her muscles are rebelling against her. And you can’t wait to read every single one.

[vividwritinglove]

gray sweatpants - Pierre Gasly

I don’t know why but I kind of have the feeling it’s the magic of this campaign that makes me want to write so much at the moment 🔥 and according to that, gray sweatpants are next to a suit the most sexiest thing a man (especially this one) could wear!

warnings: smut (minors dni)

word count: 1.3k

~

The 2022 Formula 1 season has been over for a week now and after a short vacation in Abu Dhabi, you are finally back home in Milan. For Pierre, however, the work is far from over, his move to Alpine is in full swing and in addition to his training camp for the new season, many more appointments with the new racing team are pending. Because of your work, you won't be able to accompany Pierre often, so every moment you can spend together is sacred for you. However, this is disturbed with the constant work calls that Pierre is receiving.

The first call woke you up shortly after 7 a.m. No morning cuddles. You also did the morning jog alone and brought breakfast from his favorite bakery on the way back home. As you enter the apartment you hear the shower running and you decide to prepare breakfast for both of you. Besides the things from the bakery, you had also stopped at a kiosk to get some magazines to improve your Italian. The table was set, you were sitting in front of your porridge bowl and flipping through a magazine as Pierre left the bathroom in just his gray sweatpants. You look up briefly and the spoon almost falls out of your hand.

Those gray sweatpants are your kryptonite. And he knows it! They hang loose and low around his hips, the waistband of his boxers and his V-line quite visible. Although he has no erection, his cock stands out clearly. His hair still wet and some strains of hair were stuck to his forehead. His skin was noticeably tanned again from the Abu Dhabi sun and defined his muscles at a different level. His body hair had lightened a bit.

Again he had the cell phone to his ear and discussed something in French with the caller. He tapped barefoot into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, which you had already prepared for him. Your magazine was long forgotten. Thinking of your hot boyfriend and his incredible upper body, you nibble on your spoon with your lips and suck on it from time to time. Pierre doesn't pay any attention to you, at least you think that, because he doesn't look at you and continues to talk on the phone. You continue to languish shamelessly at him. Pierre keeps stroking his own chest and you wish your hands would touch his incredible body. Pierre turns away from you and now you can admire his wonderful back. You love his broad and muscular shoulders, his bull neck and the strong lower back muscles. Still visible from last night, some streaks from your nails on his shoulder blades, as he fucked you without restraint. Not to mention his well-shaped butt, which looks perfect in those gray sweatpants.

Pierre ends the call and now looks at you. Hands propped on the countertop so his arm muscles are tense.

"You have to stop looking at me like this when I'm having important calls," he admonishes you, looking at you seriously. You feel caught and put your spoon down on the table. Pierre's expression changes immediately and he grins cheekily at you. He could never be angry with you, especially not when it comes to the most beautiful triviality in the world.

"Come here." he asks you gently, holding out his hand and you listen to his word. You are crazy about him and would do anything for him.

As soon as you stand in front of him, he pulls you into a tight embrace and lets his big hands roam over your back, down to your butt. He loves it when you put on tight yoga pants, your butt always looks fantastic in them. His hands are now kneading your butt cheeks and your arms are wrapped around his neck. Your foreheads are leaning against each other and your noses are touching.

"I have to leave in two days already." he sighs softly. You had hoped to spend a little more time with him, however you were aware that you would not have an ordinary relationship with him. You knew that you would have a long distance relationship. But your time together is incomparable and makes up for any separation.

Pierre's hands grip tightly into your butt cheeks once again and the next moment he lifts you onto the countertop. Your legs wrap around his middle, pulling him even closer to you. You feel his semi-hard cock through the fabrics on your now wet core.

"What's our sex high score in a day again?" he asks against your lips, then kisses you.

"Probably 5..." you say inbetween kisses, "Maybe 6."

"Hmmh, I think we can top that." he grins into the next kiss.

"Then we shouldn't waste time." you agree with him, opening and taking off your track jacket. Pierre's hands literally fly to your sports bra and massage your tits through the elastic fabric.

Your hands wander from his neck into his hair. By now it was half dry and it was getting a little curly. You love it when his hair is wild and untamed. Pierre's hands are on another foray and find themselves at your waistband. Quickly you prop yourself up on the countertop with your arms so that Pierre pulls down both your tight gym pants and your thong in one go, tossing both carelessly behind him. You spread your legs and present yourself to him shamelessly. Pierre licks his lips. You naked, in his kitchen is an image that he would keep in his mind forever. Pierre also eagerly pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, both landing in a puddle of fabric around his ankles. You slide even closer to the edge of the countertop. Pierre immediately seizes this opportunity and grabs his cock to slide it through your already glistening folds.

"Ouh, already so wet for me." Pierre murmurs and lets his tip roam around your clit. You lay your head back in your neck moaning.

"Do you want to talk or fuck?" you mumble a bit annoyed and start to get impatient.

Pierre has to grin, he loves your unfiltered and direct way. He positions his cock at your hole and thrusts into you bluntly.

You moan and bury your face in the crook of his neck. His hands wrap around your waist to keep his pace even. You want to feel him even deeper inside you and your legs only wrap tighter around his middle.

"Fuck Pierre!" you almost cry out, because by now he's pounding into you recklessly. His pace is getting faster and you know he's about to cum.

You firmly suck the skin on the crook of his neck into your mouth. This will leave a thick hickey and you like the thought of having him marked by you for everyone to see. You were both a few thrusts away from climaxing and as the sweet relief washes over both of you, you linger in the tightly entwined position a little longer.

"You didn't seriously give me a hickey." grumbles Pierre against your collarbone, as he leans his head exhaustedly against your shoulder.

"Oops, sorry..." you say with a grin, and not being sorry at all.

"Cherie, I have photo shoots with the new team. It won't be gone by then..."

"Oh, it’s not that bad." you try to brush off his concerns and examine your artwork. The hickey is more severe than expected, even imprints of your teeth can be seen and your look speaks volumes.

Pierre rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "First the nails and now this..."

"Don't act like you're not into it." you purr as you hop off the countertop and reach for your underwear. As you bend over for it, Pierre gives you a hard slap on your bare ass.

"Such a naughty Madame." he grins.

"The only thing to blame is that gray sweatpants..."

"Thank God for those fucking gray sweatpants!" he mutters as he slips the said pants back over his butt.

[lunalockley]

The Limo Driver (part two)

Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Like, a lot. Can Jake on his knees count as a warning?

Summary: It's night, it's raining and reader just wants to sleep, until she doesn't anymore.

Words: 7700+

Notes: Sooooo, I'm sorry, it took me a little longer than planned but here it is, I really hope you like it. And thank you all so much for your comments, always brighten my day.

Specially dedicated to my dearest moon emoji anon who made me feel really good about this one <3

Masterlist

gif credit

So… you’ve been thinking about it. Well, you can’t stop. Of course you can’t. He kissed you once and you spent six months half in lov—Ok, no. Wait, what? No. Half hooked up on him you mean. Three-quarters stupid. Completely insane. But not half in that. No.

Uh, whatever. It’s only been a day, a couple of hours. It’s way too recent. So it’s normal for your mind to keep on spinning the matter. And the eyes, and the voice, and the fingers. It’s driving you crazy, to be honest. The feel of them on your throat, on your hips, on your mouth… inside of you. You barely slept last night, your mind keeps taking you back through every fucking second of it without even trying. And then you can almost hear his voice calling you preciosa in that way he does and everything starts to heat up. That good, nice heat that’s so easy to get lost on.

But there’s also the bad one. The focalized heat that sets upon your chest like a weight is pressing down on you, making breathing a little bit harder. That’s the one you felt when you walked out last night. And you’ve been feeling it every time you think about what you said, and what he didn’t. That’s the part you’re trying to avoid. Yet it comes to mind anyways. It’s pretty fucking unfair.

And it’s pretty fucking ridiculous too because how come that after all that has happened, all the time you two have shared, all the things he has done you still can’t… figure him out? It doesn’t make any sense. How does someone that’s so incredibly hermetic make you feel you can read him just by looking him in the eyes when you actually don’t know anything about him at all? Does he do it on purpose? Is it a calculated move or is he somehow unable to—

—And you’re doing it again. Thinking about it non-stop. You called in sick needing a night away from the restaurant, from Jake’s stupid chair and that stupid bathroom that has been giving you palpitations just by the thought of going in and this is how you spend it. You had planned to cook a nice dinner, watch a movie, water your barely-alive plants, do a beginner's yoga class on Youtube, and maybe even finish reading that book that has been dusting on your nightstand. But no, here you are. Already in pajamas, all you’ve done (besides eating yesterday’s leftovers) is sit on the couch contemplating how time passes with the rain and Viejita’s soft meowing in the background. Is procrastination the root of all your problems? Maybe it is.

Or maybe it’s just time to get up and do what you do best: sleep. Give your body the rest your mind refuses to get. You impulse yourself out of the couch to go and take Viejita with you. Cuddling with her makes it all better. No more stupid Jake thinking. You let your ear guide you, she’s right next to the window. She had never complained about the rain before and as she feels you getting closer she even starts scratching the glass.

“Hey, baby, It’s just a little rain,” you mutter, petting her and trying to calm her down until you rest your eyes on what she is staring at down the street.

What the f—He can’t just—There’s no fucking way.

You’re not sure. You just live on the third floor but it’s dark outside. The street light barely lights anything at all. And the rain makes it even harder to see. Yet the outline of the limousine is clearly visible, and so is the figure leaning against it. But it can’t be. You’ve always thought Jake is unusual in every little thing he does but this? He wouldn’t be crazy enough to be waiting under the rain without a fucking umbrella and without even ringing the bell to your apartment, just expecting somehow you knew he would be there, right? That would be insane. It must be a weird coincidence. Some other limo driver who's waiting for someone else here… in this neighborhood? Weird, yet not impossible.

But then he looks up straight at your window and your heart jumps inside your chest as you instinctively hurry back into the shadows, where he can’t see you.

Fuck, it is him.

What the fuck? He knows your apartment is on the third floor, you’ve told him. You’ve told him the number. You’ve told him everything, for fuck’s sake. It's not like you want him to come up to your house knocking on the door in the middle of the night but what is he doing? At this point, you’re sure he purposefully finds the way to do the least expected, most incomprehensible thing in every fucking little thing he does. It must be his life’s motto: “No matter what, always find a way to stress the shit out of the people in my life”.

He’s an idiot, there’s no doubt of it. The thing is: are you an idiot? Well, yeah. You just saw him outside your place and your heart is already a beat away from a fucking heart attack. But you should try not to be an idiot anymore. You shouldn't go down. Make it clear you said it’s over for good. He definitely saw you, he would get it, and then… and then he would leave. Forever. Yeah, that’s what you should do.

But… goodbyes are a good thing too, right? 

Closure and all that stuff. Talk things out, even if it sounds unlikely with someone like Jake. You can give it a chance. A… friendly goodbye. Ok, yeah. Sounds good. And it is the right thing in this type of situation, grown-up shit. A goodbye, that’s all.

You take one last look at the street just in case you’ve lost your mind and you’ve imagined the whole thing, but he’s still right there. Arms crossed, leaning against the limo and probably soaking fuking wet.

“Your dad’s an idiot, Viejita,” you say to the little black beast before taking her in your arms to leave her on her favorite cushion on the sofa. She settles down, pleased and exhausted as if she's accomplished a hard job.

You grab your keys next to the mirror at the entrance. 

Just a goodbye.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The bone-chilling air hits you as soon as you step out of the building but seeing him is what makes you stop dead in your tracks for a second. You couldn’t see it up from your floor but he’s wearing his usual type of clothes, not the casual ones that somehow felt so out of place on him yesterday. Now the familiarity of the white shirt, the jacket, and the hat gives you a naive sense of comfort you try to dismiss away. As if this one were more of your Jake than it was yesterday. Stupid, he’s not more of anything and it’s just clothes.

A white shirt, a jacket, and a hat that are drenched, by the way. Which reminds you—

“What the fuck are you doing in the rain? Are you insane?”

Instead of answering he just looks at you and opens the limo’s door. Silently asking you to get in.

Ok, well…. you didn't think this through. You only thought about coming down, not actually getting into his car. But, you guess… there’s no other option. You came here to say your friendly goodbye, after all. Can’t do it in the rain, just like that. And a veil of water drops is already setting in your clothes, you can feel some of the fabric clanging into your body. Another thing you didn’t think through is the worn-out sweatpants you came out with, the old shirt that has somehow become a pajama shirt, and your lack of a bra underneath.

Fuck it.

When you slide into the car you notice how spacious the limousine is yet it surprises you how it does not seem to be room for many people. There are only two rows of red leather seats facing each other. So much space for so few passengers. In order to be more private and luxurious, you guess. It makes you think about the people he drives for. Might he be just as serious and inaccessible as you’ve seen him be with basically everyone else? Or might he show his weird uncharismatic charisma as he has done with you? The latter doesn’t sound so good, for some reason.

You stop nosing around when you feel him sitting next to you a little bit closer than the spacious seat needs. You were right. He's drenched and most likely ruining the luxurious leather of the luxurious car, but he doesn't seem to care as he turns his whole body and attention towards you.

“Is it every day or once every six months with you? No in-betweens?” You blurt out, cornered by the closeness of his body.

Fuck, friendly goodbye. Friendly.

“Sorry. I take that back,” you mumble, thinking your next words before you pronounce them this time. “Why didn’t you ring the bell to my apartment?”

“It’s late. I saw the lights on but thought you might have fallen asleep. Didn’t want to disturb you. You work too much, preciosa,” he answers calmly, his voice softer than you ever heard before. Not in a submissive way but in a disarmingly appeasing tone as if he had come here disarmed, without any shields. Exactly the opposite of how you feel right now. You move back in the seat trying to get as far as you can get in the restricted space. Soft raspy melting voices shouldn’t cause claustrophobia.

“And if I had been sleeping what would you have done? Wait till I wake up tomorrow?” You throw it out half as a joke, but immediately you realize—

He doesn’t even have to answer to know that’s the truth. He had come here to see you and wouldn’t have left until he did.

“Do you always get what you want? Is that how things work for you?”

“If things worked out for me this wouldn’t be the first time I see you outside work,” he says replies, lifting his hat and running a hand through his hair. And to your disbelief, he puts it back with a sigh like he didn't even realize the damn thing is soaking fucking wet just like the rest of his clothes are. He should take it all off before he catches a cold. Ha, go on. Keep thinking of him without his clothes on. Good idea. “Speaking of which, you know what am I thinking?”

“Are you kidding me?” You snort, turning towards him, as shocked by your train of thought as by the audacity of his question. “I never know what you’re thinking,” you whisper, taken aback by the fact that he still doesn’t understand how little you understand him. At all. That’s the whole point here.

“That’s weird, I’ve always felt you can see right through me,” he mutters, frowning at you as if you had any fault in that absurd idea. Stupid Jake. His voice sounds sincere but you chose not to even give it a second thought, can’t allow yourself that right now. Not with the purpose you came here for.

So you cross your arms and frown back at him, refusing to answer anything at all. But he mirrors you, crossing his arms and resting his back against the seat.

God, this is so stupid. You’re so mad at him but can’t help smiling when the stare competition last a little too long. It’s infuriating. And so ridiculous. You came here to say goodbye, why are you smiling? 

“What are you thinking?” You ask, defeated.

A crooked smile forms on his lips in victory, but he quickly brushes away with his thumb.

“I’m thinking you look pretty fucking good here like this,” he says taking a look at your body, his eyes somehow soft and dark on equal parts. You try to ignore the effect his tone produces under your skin.

“In pajamas on your limousine?”

“Yeah, it’s a sight,” he breathes lowly, uncrossing his arms and getting a little bit closer. You can’t take it.

“Stop—don't do that, please.”

He waits for you to continue.

“That thing you do,” you explain reluctantly. “You make it sound like you’re joking but it feels like you are telling the truth. It’s confusing. Tell me what you are really thinking for once.”

“I’m telling you in every way I know.”

The words are out of his mouth like a caress and the way he’s—No, no, no. Focus. He’s flirting his way out. Get to the point. 

“So? Did you come here to say goodbye?”

“Why would I say goodbye?” He retorts like you had asked him the most bizarre question possible.

“Because we are not seeing each other again, I told you it’s over.”

“Oh, it’s over? So what are you doing here?”

“Would you have left if I didn’t come down? I’m saving you from pneumonia. You’re welcome.”

He shakes his head, a reproachful gleam in his eyes but then he exhales and lets it go. He looks out the window for a moment and then back at you. Outside, the rain pounds harder.

“I came to say that I’m… I’m sorry”

“Oh, that’s a first. What for?”

You cross your legs and he follows the movement. Then he shifts in his seat once more, trying to find comfort.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t—That I left without saying anything—I… I just disappeared. I’m sorry. I understand why you’re angry. If it had been you I would’ve—I’m sorry.”

He’s struggling so much one would think this is the first time he apologizes for something in his life. It cracks your walls a little bit, but still—

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just had to go and then I couldn’t come back.”

“How so?”

“I… I’m not able to control my time as I used to, just when is necessary.”

Oh. You weren’t important enough to come and let you know he was going to disappear for six fucking months.

“Yeah I get that, you didn’t need to be here,” you grunt moving to get out of the car but he moves from his seat, catching your hand before you even get to touch the handle. 

“Let me go, you asshole!”

You try to push him back but in half a second he’s resting his knees on the floor as his hands take yours on a soft grip at each side of your hips. He’s caging you between his body and the seat. And even when your body keeps attempting to get out of the car, the intense heat that radiates out of his body makes you wonder how his wet clothes aren’t fucking steaming.

“Wait, wait—hey, wait, stop,” he says soothingly, his voice not a bit altered by the force with which you are trying to push him. His left-hand find that soft spot on the side of your neck, drawing your attention to his dark eyes. You lose a little bit of your strength. “Listen to me. You’re angry, I know. Take it out on me. You’ll feel better.”

What?

Your heartbeat buzzes in your ears and you feel a little lightheaded. This is the first time he’s looking up to you instead of the other way around. Maybe that's what causes that slight desperate effect in his deep brown eyes, the look that the last speaker of an extinguished language would have. Condemned to never truly communicate with anyone else. And the way he looks kneeled in front of you, surrounded, as if he would let you do anything to him right now. Take it out on me, he said. Is he expecting you to hit him or something?

“That’s not how things work, Jake. I’m not gonna turn you into my… human stress relief ball. You just told me you don’t need this. And I wanna make that call too. So, that’s it. You’re an idiot but we’re good. Now move and let me go. It’s ok, it’s over just like I–”

“No, it’s not. Stop that,” he says all frown and serious, and then a little softer.  “And that’s not what I meant. But let me apologize. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Then the rest. Let me have you happy and relaxed first.” 

“What?—That’s n-not—We should talk”

“Oh, so you came here to talk not to say goodbye?”

“Are you serious?”

“Sorry,” he says in an innocent tone like he regrets it but he's actually smiling, the widest smile you've ever seen on him yet. A happy smile. The desperate glimmer turned into triumph. He knows you just gave in, he knows he’s won this one. God, you hate him. Stupid Jake.

“Don’t—” take off my slipper, you try to say. But he’s already taking the other one. You really didn’t think about your outfit at all before walking out of your apartment tonight. Whatever. Focus. “What did you mean then, explain it to me. You gotta give me something here because I don’t want to do this anymore, Jake. Not like this.”

He holds your eyes for a moment and then he leans forward, resting his forehead against your knee. One hand slowly making his way up over your calve, the other rolling up the fabric to expose the skin. It takes him a minute to speak again.

“I… I don’t have control over—I don’t really have a—I just do what needs to be done. That’s the purpose of me. That’s all I do. I prevent things from happening and if they happen I resolve them. I… survive, I guess. And this is how it’s been for as long as I can remember. It’s ok—it was, it was ok. It was until one night instead of going to a shitty bar like I always do I decide for some fucking reason to go into that damn 24/7 breakfast and you happened. I didn’t like it, at first, because I knew right there that it wasn’t going to be enough. I already wanted more. I tried to stop it but I kept going and going. You were always there. Lighting things up. Of course, I kept wanting more. It’s never enough”.

While he was speaking his fingertips were gently caressing your calf, his cheek word by word tracing the side of your leg, seeking the reassurance feeling of skin against skin but as soon as the last sentence is pronounced his mouth starts giving open mouth kisses to every inch of uncovered skin it finds on its way and you’re scared your heart may stop working it all. It’s the feel of his tongue in that sensitive spot in the back of your knee, his left hand slowly exploring the length of your thigh but mostly his words and that impenetrable wall finally beginning to break down.

You weren’t expecting this. You thought he was going to come up with a half-true half-joke excuse that you were going to resist not believing in. And then get the courage to walk away just like you had planned. But this is different. You know this is different. You know he meant it. You know for the way he was so evidently struggling to find the right words, the hoarseness on every one of them as if his body were still trying to keep them locked deep inside. This is him. This is what you’ve been asking for. But still—

“The thing is you’re changing things for me, preciosa. I know I’m not made for this. I’m fucked up, I am. I’m not good. And on top of that, there’s not much I can offer you. I’ve nothing. And I can’t even take care of a damn cat without having it all fall over. I’m not even close to being good enough for you. You deserve better, you do—but I’m still here… if you want me. And even if you don’t, I would still be here, waiting.”

It’s raining properly now, hammering on the roof of the limousine. The furious rhythm of hundreds of drops almost synchronized with the rapid beat of your heart. His thumb hooked over the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling until your hip is exposed. Your breath caught in your throat.

“You deserve better but I’m selfish now. If anything is your fault, you turned me into this. I want you for my own,” he mutters, leaning in to kiss the skin of your lower stomach. You can’t help but gasp at the contact, he’s barely touched you and you already can feel the wetness dripping out of you. “Will you let me have you?”

He’s looking you straight into your eyes now, he hadn’t done it since he started speaking, and you can see how much he just gave you. You’ve learned to know him, somehow. Not in the way one learns to read deciphering signs on a page but in the way our eyes become accustomed to darkness after some time. Groping and stumbling you’ve learned some parts of him, his outline. That’s how you know he’s asking for way more than he’s letting on. You have the feeling that saying yes to him involves a lot more than saying yes to somebody else. The feeling that whatever it is he’s asking from you might consume you and leave you heartbroken afterward. But that’s not the hold-up.

The thing is, you want more, you want to see him in full light. You want him for your own too. But you need to understand him. Fully. You won't give yourself up without having him first. 

“You want me to beg? I’ll beg if you want me to, but then I’ll be the one taking it out on you later,” he threats when you don’t answer for a while, all teasing voice and mischief glimmer, he’s back to the playful Jake you know so well. A little too long of silence and his defenses go up again.

You don’t think he’ll keep spilling truths voluntarily but now that you’ve heard some of them you want more. You’ve become addicted. You need more. But how?

And how are you supposed to think while he keeps playing with the waistband of your pants? Fuck, unless—He just acted on your terms, revealing himself just like you’ve asked him to. Now is your turn. You probably will get immediately caught up on it, but you can try.

You need to play it his way then. 

He sees the change on your face and a spellbound gleam forms in his eyes.

“Show me how it would feel,” you whisper and you don’t need to say it twice.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth the sweatpants are out of your legs. Once he has you only in your t-shirt and your panties he leans back a little bit observing you from head to toe, lingering his eyes on yours, on the contour of your hardened nipples and the wet patch of your panties, as if he wanted to burn the image in his memory, the pervert. Well, you can’t judge, you are the same. Admiring how the white wet shirt clings to his torso, wrapping him like hard candy. You may as well lick him—fuck, focus. Focus.

When he starts to slowly take off your panties you manage to find your voice again.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you undress me on the street.”

“You’re letting me undress you in my car, it’s hot. And its got tinted glasses, and it’s dark outside and you’re with me, bonita,” he answers absently, focused on the delicate movement of the silky material as it slides down your legs. You can't mock him at the implication that you're safe with him though, you know it's true. You’ve felt it from the first day.

Once your panties reach your ankles he carefully removes them to put them in the pocket of his pants. Again, pervert. You ignore the need to clench your thighs together at the gesture and decide to tease him about it. He deserves it. And it’s what has worked the best so far. Pushing his buttons it’s what had you moaning in the fucking bathroom of your workplace anyways.

“To remember me?” You ask as innocently as you can.

But he’s done with it. He pins you with his gaze, raising a thick eyebrow at you.

“Why would I need reminding, exactly?”

“Because this is the last time.”

“What did I just say? Stop that. Don’t make me say it again. You know it’s not enough, preciosa. You know it.” His lips back to your legs, his voice still annoyed but so soft you don’t think you hear right: “Will never be.”

For the sake of your own heart, you rather believe you misheard.

He opens your legs a little bit further and then—

“Fuck, baby.” He sounds so wrecked, you feel weak. You were supposed to do something, what was it? “Voy a despertar soñándote por el resto de mi puta vida.”

“That’s not fair, you know I don’t understand. And tell me… tell me more about yourself first, please.”

“There’s not much to tell. And I’d like to do something else with my tongue right now.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“I mean, if I could record this right n—”

“Jake.”

“Whichever you’d like to watch with me, bonita.”

“You drive for a living?”

“That’s how I earn some money, yeah. Stop torturing me.”

“But you’re not just a driver, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“And is that…dangerous?”

“Not to you. I promise”

“Are you in danger?”

“I’m in danger of dying as a thirsty man here.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Lockley. Come on, baby, don't make me go crazier than I already am.”

“Lockley… Jake Lockley.” That catches his attention back to your mouth for a second. “What’s your favorite hobby?”

“This,” he says sliding you effortlessly to the edge of the seat. You feel his breath near your core and you know you’re losing it. Shit, why were you doing this? Why are you delaying it when you want it so badly? Oh, right, you—

“Jake, wait,” you breathe. “I need more. I need to understand.”

“Then pay attention, preciosa.”

His mouth finds your inner thigh and he’s so close. So close. You won’t hold back anymore. You can’t. Your hand finds his shoulder just to hold onto something but fuck. He’s still in his wet clothes. He can’t stay like this. You gather the little willpower you have left to push him back. You expect some sort of resistance but he moves back with no effort on your part. Take it out on me, is this what he meant?

The way he raises his gaze is enough to set your blood on fire. He looks at you as if he’s about to say fuck it all and push you back to have his way with you mixed with genuine curiosity about what are you going to do next. Submission hanging by a thread.

“Take off your jacket.”

He holds your gaze for a moment and then he does it. Fuck, the power trip you're feeling right now. It feels pretty fucking good having him listening to you like that. More.

“Now your shirt.”

He sighs and begins to unbutton it, somehow amused by how much you're pushing it. Did he just unblock a new kink for you?

Once the shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor of the limo you lean forward to take off his hat. Is soaking wet just like his hair is underneath. And of course, you can’t resist. You take a moment to run a hand through his curls all the way down to his nape until your hand is resting on his shoulder again. He looks so fucking hot like this. You bite the urge to confess it, instead, you lean back and open your legs a little further, an invitation.

“You can go on, now.”

The little smile he’s trying to bite back makes your stomach flutter. You decide to tease him a little bit more.

“I mean, if you don’t want to…” you concede, beginning to close your legs but you barely get to move an inch before he dives right in and—

Fucking heaven.

You loudly gasp at the feeling of the wet heat of his mouth dragging over the folds of your pussy, his groan sending shivers from your core through your whole body. Fuck, it’s too good. It’s too good. When his tongue swirls around your clit your brain short-circuits having at the same the time the urge to push him away and push him impossibly closer. As your hand finds his curls you realize your body has chosen the latter. The movement pleases him, you can feel his smile against you.

“So fucking good,” he mutters, barely pulling back as you feel the movement of his lips with each word. Your hips move forward anyway, chasing the delicious contact.

Fuck, you’re already on the edge. His mouth is giving you everything without holding anything back. Fixed on wreck you from the beginning, desire running through your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck. Jake, I–I’m gonna—”

“Eyes on me, preciosa.” Is all he says but your mind is gone, every cell in your body focused on the sweet hot pleasure that’s rushing to you core. Your head falls back against the seat as the shocks of ecstasy flow through you, your whines chanting his name, your hand holding thigh to his hair, your cunt clenching hard around nothing—his mouth not leaving you for a second, drowning in you.

When your legs twtich a little too much one hand holds your hips down hard into the seat to ensure you keep still but he’s not stopping, he’s—

He’s—

Two long, thick fingers slid in and out of you as Jake’s mouth goes up, focusing on your swollen clit, licking and sucking and his eyes—

Fuck, you can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

His gaze is so deep and strong, melting your fucking bones. You’ve never been seen like that, never.

“Keep your eyes on me or I’ll keep going until you let me see.”

You can’t help but clench at his words, a whine escaping your lips. He feels it.

“Mmm, would you like that?”

It’s too much, too intense. The free fall never stops inside of you. And you can’t even move away from it. You just have to take it the way he wants to.

His tongue swirls, his fingers curl and you completely lose yourself in the pleasure ripping you from the inside. Your sense of gravity changes to where his wet hot mouth keeps taking everything you have to give. His fierce brown eyes the only thing keeping you grounded.

“That’s it. Look at you, so fucking pretty baby,” Jake says in that dark rich voice you love so much, and though he keeps praising you you’re too gone to even hear anymore. All you can do is lay back against the seat of his limo until your heart stops booming in your ears and air reintegrates into your lungs again.

When feeling comes back to your numb body you find one of his hands massaging the back of your neck, the other moving from your collarbone towards that spot that keeps beating strong under his touch. He keeps his warm palm right there in your heart and fuck, he’s still kneeling in front of you, looking at you with Am I forgiven eyes and you know this is not healthy, this is not how things should be, yet all you want to do is to close your own eyes because you know they’re answering him yes, yes you are. Instead, you lower your head to brush your lips into his, an invitation that makes his body go so pliant on you when you grab him and take him up with you, maneuvering him until you’re on his lap and you can finally kiss him like you’ve wanted since the moment you met him.

That first kiss six months ago was tentative and stiff, it felt like he was trying to stop himself but his body wouldn’t respond to his rational wishes, like his mouth was moving against all his fucking will. Yesterday’s kisses were dark and possessive, every movement of his tongue deliberately planned to have you whining at his mercy.

This one is completely different. This time it’s you who’s leading the way. This time it’s you who’s showing him that the despair that’s so evident in the glimmer of his eyes is the same that’s hidden deep down in your chest. And you know, you know, that the moan that sips out of him when you cradle each side of his face and your tongue clashes into his is because he understands what your body is saying to him. He knows.

And it may be minutes or hours, all you’re conscious of is the constant pattering of the rain against the roof of the car, your own taste in his mouth, the way he pushes you closer every time you bite his lower lip, his fingers under your t-shirt caressing the small of your back, tracing your ribs and digging in your hips, the warmth of his skin, the hard muscle underneath, his damp curls when you run your nails through his head, those dark sounds that come out of his throat when you rock against the bulge inside his pants, the slow, steady bone-melting rhythm that completely intoxicates you until you need more, more, more.

And you know he does too.

He takes off your shirt in one swift motion. You feel something icy at the center of your collarbone but you don’t even have time to process it because suddenly your breast is in his hot wet mouth and his teeth are gently nipping the flesh there and then his tongue swirls against your nipple and—

You need—you’re overwhelmed by the need to have him as delirious as he has you right now.

You push him back into the seat and he’s immediately calling you preciosa and complaining but you are already kissing him, shutting him up, and undoing the zipper of his pants. He growls in your mouth when you palm the outline of his cock over his underwear, your walls clench hard in anticipation. And then he shivers when you slowly run your nails throughout his length over the fabric and you know you’re fucked. You will crave this feeling for the rest of your life.  The feeling of having Jake Lockley trembling with pleasure underneath you. An instant addiction.

You take his hard cock out and you and you don't even give him time to pull his pants out or take them off before you’re rubbing your slit against his length. Utterly and unashamedly desperate.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters in your mouth, his tight and raspy voice making you throb in need, his muscles tense under your hands. “Feels soo good, doesn’t it? This is how it will feel like, everything, every fucking time.”

He pushes back a little to look at you. You know he’s talking about what you answered when he asked to have you. Show me how it would feel. You know this is his way to push for an answer. A confirmation that you’re his. But instead of trying to find those words hidden somewhere in your chest you get lost in his deep brown eyes and you realize that all those moments when he looked at you like he wanted to crawl under your skin your eyes must have looked at him just the same way.

“Will you let me have you?” The question leaves your lips this time, yet no words come out of his mouth but a breathless choked sound as if you’ve punched him in the gut. Instead, he just grabs the side of your neck and glares at you with something profound that could be anger or devotion, or maybe both. And then he’s kissing you, his tongue fighting yours, how dare you is saying. A hand on your hip lifts you up enough so that he can line himself up at your entrance and just when you begin to feel that pressure—

“If we are doing this you’re not allowed to leave again without warning, Ok? It’s cruel,” you blurt out without thinking, your helpless heart rising to the surface, exposing itself despite your efforts.

“Ok,” he answers, his voice torn and low, as solemnly as he can with your cunt torturously dripping the length of his cock. You look down, ready to feel him inside but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “And you’re not allowed to say you hate me. Ever again. I mean it. Ok?”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll fuck your pretty little brains out until I have you begging me to stop but I won’t until I’m sure you’ve completely forgotten the damn fucking word. Ok?” He pulls at your hair for emphasis and you have to fight down the moan that threatens to leave your throat with the gesture.

“Ok,” you answer out of breath, obediently.

“Good,” he praises, soothing your scalp with his fingertips. Then, cheeky again. “What am I allowed to?”

“You’re allowed to ring the bell to my apartment, for once.” You laugh but then—

He holds your hips as he slowly begins to slide his cock in, gently and steadily but fuck.

Holy fuck.

You’re so wet there’s barely any resistance bet he’s long and thick and the stretch feels like he’s gonna break you in half. The strong grip of your hands on his shoulders makes him stop before he can go any further.

“You’ll get used to me,” he gasps in your temple. “Fuck, such a tight fucking pussy, baby. But I’ll make you get used to me. All of you.”

“Shut up and just keep going, for fuck’s sake”

“Relax on me, preciosa. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers caressing every inch of skin he can find, his tongue licking the pulse in your neck. “Relax…Mmm, that’s it. Yeah, like that.”

It takes a little.  The expert grip on your hips makes you sink into him so, so slowly every inch of him steals a whine out of you but you know it’s driving him fucking crazy too. He’s breathing hard, the muscles in his abdomen jump at the slightest shift of your hips, and a faint film of sweat appears on his neck. It makes you wanna lick him. But you get distracted by how good and how deep it feels and how his hands move from your hips to a playful hold on your throat, until they fall flat on the seat.

“You can go on, now,” he returns your words, a cheeky little grim forming in the corner of his lips as he leans back on the seat. Leaving you to it. Your heart swells at the wrecked and joyful gleam of his eyes. 

You try to say something smart and snarky at him but his cock is buried deep inside of you and you can’t think of anything else, to be honest. You lift yourself up and down, tentatively, the burning so good it has so gasping.

“Feels good, baby? Feels so right, doesn’t it? You know why it feels so right, don’t you? You understand it.”

You pick up your pace, oblivious of his words, trying to suppress the hidden emotion behind every roll of your hips. You don’t want to hear those words, you don’t need to. Not now. But he keeps going—

“You have no idea all the times a woke up this,” he breathes, his hands finding your hips again. Unable to stay away for too long. “Preciosa lurking me with her smart mouth and her —fuck— her pretty smile. Letting me punish her for being too good for me.”

He makes you clench hard around him. You can’t help it. It’s his words, the idea. 

“Mmm, you’d like that. I’d like that too. I could spank you for every time you wouldn’t leave my fucking head, for distracting me,” he growls grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing it. “How red would your ass be then, huh?”

His hand goes up to hold your hip again. And now he’s thrusting into you. Reaching places you couldn’t reach yourself, so fucking deep. 

“I could edge you to tears for doing this to me.” The pad of his thumb finds your clit and you whine his name in response. The shots of ecstasy are growing fast and intense. You’re gasping, he’s breathing hard. And to your surprise, he keeps talking. “I could have you screaming for—for—”

Before he was forcing himself to get the truth out, struggling to answer your questions with honesty. But now it’s flowing out of him, a little bit of truth with every thrust of his hips. Every word sticking deep into your heart.

“Fuck, I missed you… my whole body felt it even—even when I wasn't myself.”

God, you can’t even process each sensation. And his scent is concentrated in that soft spot on the side of his neck, it makes you dizzy. You’re so out of yourself, so overflowed with sensations and desire, that you only notice you’re running your tongue down the skin of his throat when growls and holds you impossibly closer, just like you wanted.

Is too much. Everything. This is—you’ve never felt anything like this before. Like the whole ground is disappearing under you. All you can do is hold onto Jake, one hand on his shoulder the other on his nape, your face buried in his neck. But he’s asking you something, his voice softer than before.

“Do you understand?”

But you’re too lost on it. You can’t—Your movements start to grow impatient, fast, and erratic. The hot melting pleasure is close once more. But not close enough.

“Preciosa, answer me.”

You keep clinging to him, refusing to do anything but chase the feeling. You’re almost there, almost there, you’re—

You’re suddenly on your back, his body hovering over yours, both of your hands taken behind you, arching you and maintaining you exposed. Making it impossible to hide away. His hand is on the side of your neck, his eyes piercing through you. He’s expecting the same sincerity he has given you tonight. He’s done what you’ve been asking him this whole time—broken down the wall between you two. Why are you so scared to take what was behind it? Because it’ll consume you. It already is. And you know if he disappears again—If he disappears after all this everything it would be so, so much worse. It’s too much risk. It’s all too much. You can’t—

But fuck, he looks so lost in you. 

“Tell me, do you understand now?”

At this point, you couldn't lie even if you tried. Your heart is on the surface.

“Yes, yeah. I-I do. Me too, Jake.”

“Fuck, mía.” He groans between desperate kisses on your mouth, then becomes a prayer that escapes from his lips with every needier, sloppier thrust of his hips. “Mía, mía, mía…”

Your whole body tenses under him then the pleasure rips you from the inside, making you scream this time. The hard squeeze of your cunt enough to push him to the edge. He grinds his cock as deep as he can against something that makes you sob and then he’s cumming, hard. You feel his body shuddering above and you want to see every second of it but everything goes blurry.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Somehow, you find yourself on his lap again. Your whole body a dead weight against him. Your head tugged in the curve of his neck. His hands moving up and down along your back.

Your body is tired yet the adrenaline is still running through your veins. You can feel it buzzing somewhere inside, that’s why you are surprised when your voice comes out as a whisper.

“If you disappear again I swear that I—”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

You push back to look into his eyes in search of any sign that may tell otherwise, but you don’t find any.

“I won’t be long gone. I’ll be back soon,” he reassures, running his fingertips from your neck to your collarbone, his lips gently tracing your jawline. “Apenas pude aguantarme esta vez. No soy tan fuerte.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll be back. Ok?”

Suddenly he’s looking into your eyes for some sort of final confirmation that you feel the same way he feels, even if he didn’t confess it with words. And you do. You do, you do, you do, your answer to him. Instead, your mouth says—

“Ok.”

He takes your face in both his hands. His lips brushing yours.

“Mi preciosa.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A few hours before sunrise, long after the rain has stopped, you enter your apartment. Happy and exhausted, you know you’ll fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You also know you’ll dream of brown deep eyes and a raspy voice calling you preciosa over and over again.

As you put your keys next to the mirror at the entrance your eyes catch a sparkle on your neck. It’s a silver necklace with a little moon on it. It’s beautiful.

Your head turns to the window, to the moonlight and the limousine below it that you know won't leave until it sees all your lights off. 

You had never felt anything like this before, you had never been under the weight of an emotion so strong that there was no way to communicate it with words, you had never been able to understand someone just by looking into their eyes. But then Jake isn’t like anyone you have met before either. And there's nothing you'd do to change that.

You know he will be back.

———————————————

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