#it’s fucking hot garbage tumblr

[asyipyip]

Oh so the tumblr live icon is just where the search icon used to be now huh. Even if you have it snoozed

[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

writing is wanting to write a specific thing and then having to write around it and then skipping to write the next big thing and then having to go back and write around it and then skipping to write the next big thing and then having to go back and write around it and occasionally coming back to your wip and having no clue what this half finished sentence means and how do i get from here to here what was i thinking

[v4mpyinred]

The fun thing about liking a rarepair ship is that the community is small enough where everyone knows of each other and it's really fun!!

I love posting about akijun and waiting for the like 5 other people who ship them + my 2 akijun shipping friends to like the posts LMAO

[an-absolute-trainwreck]

Alright shot in the dark cause I can’t find it

There’s this post on here where an artist shares their art and it’s changed my brain and I have to look at it again

I think in the post they talk about their schizophrenia and how that’s impacted their art through the years

And the one im thinking of is a painting. It’s like… Mary, or a saint, or something with religious connotations, but she’s entirely painted in this matte black except her teeth and her eyes. Everything around her is really bright and ornate, but her face is a void.

And I think there were also other paintings in the post but that’s the one that sticks in my brain

If this sounds familiar pls help 😭 I think they’ve also posted it on tiktok, I think I’ve seen it there too

[ghost-captain]

they're in your asks now............... I almost got excited someone was actually giving me an ask and felt so betrayed</3

btw tumblr mobile refused to let me post this. it's not letting me post any image that I haven't saved from tumblr itself??????

[hoarderheart]

the funniest fucking thing about that shithole of a sub is that they have a rule against “low-effort” posts but literally at least a third of the shit they post on there are reposts of stuff from HERE. like TUMBLR posts but with cropped off usernames because they got it from other reposters on pinterest. gifsets and memes made by both the destielers and wincesties that they so deeply loathe. and yet they’d delete a meme actually made by the OP because it’s a destiel meme, and then say that the reason is that it’s “low-effort”. the amount of utter hypocrisy from that sub is genuinely baffling

The supernatural subreddit is so anti destiel its hilarious

[cerisedemons]

it feels way nicer posting on tumblr and actually getting to see comments/tags on my art opposed to twitter where i post something and its out in the Elon Ether to get liked by 1 mutual and 1 bot and then never shown to anyone again

[somewhat-intelligent]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Oh! Thanks for this!❣️

I'm still just a little newbie writer and don't have a lot of completed stuff to share, but here goes:

Finders, Keepers

I'll Be Yours In A Landslide

Five Senses Of Knowing

Brighter With You

Cherry Lime (WIP...😩)

Of course, these are all Robinwest. That's all I write. 🧡💙

[emotionoitme]

i didn't know (2)

i didn't know - skinshape

this is the second post for this chapter because of tumblr's block limit. read the first one here

“this one?” she holds up a silky black fabric, “or…this one?” it looks the same, but red. 

he stares at the options blankly for a second.

“i, uh…the red one?” he answers cluelessly. either way he’s gonna wanna rip it off of her the second she puts it on. 

she gives him a look to elaborate. 

“i don’t know,” he sighs, “you could wear a garbage bag to dinner and look good.”

“oh, that would be cute,” she rolls her eyes, setting the options back down on the bed. 

it was one of those rare days where carmen had taken off work to relax, sprawled out on her bed—shirtless with unruly curls. 

“try ‘em on for me,” he suggests, folding his arms behind his head. 

her eyes dart to the bulge of his biceps, his armpit hair, having absolutely no idea why the sight is so enticing.

“mkay,” she smiles, pulling the hem of her borrowed shirt up over her head, revealing nothing besides panties underneath. 

“fuck,” he groans, enunciating the word sharply, graciously taking in the sight in front of him. “come over here.”

this puts a grin on her face. no matter how many times she does it, he always has the same reaction. she begins to saunter over to his side of the bed, watching how he tilts his chin up like he’s expecting a kiss. 

“i could just wear this tonight,” she suggests, trailing her finger over his jaw. 

he gives a hum of approval. “except we wouldn’t leave the house,” caressing her hip gently. 

“we could have a night in,” she suggests. he shakes his head. 

“we always do. i wanna take you out.”

“yeah?” she leans in, placing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you gonna wine and dine me?” 

“mhm. give me a real kiss.” 

she giggles and leans back in again, giving him another soft, barely-there peck before pulling away again. he tightens his jaw and snaps the band of her panties, making her release a small yelp. 

“more,” he demands. 

“so needy,” she teases, tracing her finger over his lip, catching the bottom one and pushing it down to show his teeth. she loves using his own words against him. 

“fuck off,” he laughs, turning his head away. 

“i’ll give you a real one on our date.”

“i have to wait that long?” 

“mhm,” she picks up the black dress and walks in front of the mirror, holding it in front of her body, “you can work on your self restraint.”

“i have plenty of self restraint,” he argues, sitting up onto his forearms.

“yeah right,” she slips into the fabric and threads her arms through the straps. 

“oh, and you do? you came onto me within the first month of living here.”

“i would’ve done it earlier if you were home more often,” she admits unashamedly. “what do you think? cute?” turning so he could see the front of the dress. 

“you-,” he stops in his tracks, eyes flickering over the way the fabric hugs her figure, “i wouldn’t say cute.” hot is more fitting, “but yeah, i like it.” 

she rolls her eyes, and slips the straps back down her shoulders. 

“but y’know that means you have less self restraint than me, right?” he asks, revisiting the disagreement, “because i was gonna keep it…professional.” 

“professional, my ass. i saw the way you would look at me when i first moved in.” 

“wh-how would i look at you?” 

“how you’re looking at me right now.”

oh. his eyes snap back up to her face, having been caught red handed. it’s not his fault she looks good. and after all, he is just a man. 

she turns away from him and shimmies the dress down her hips. 

“okay. fine,” he concedes, craning his neck to watch her breasts in the mirror, “but i did restrain myself.” 

“please,” she scoffs, “i had you wrapped around my finger the second i got here.” she turns back to him, and watches his eyes flicker down her body, then back up. 

he takes a moment to respond, a look of contemplation on his face. she wasn’t wrong, at all. but he still felt the need to contest. 

“tell you what,” he sits up, “we can put it to the test.”

she gives him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side. 

“no touching. no kissing…first one to break loses.” he has a smug smirk on his face.

“you’re not funny,” she says, unamused.

“i’m being serious. you say i don’t have restraint, but i know you don’t.” 

“you’re gonna eat those words. i’m gonna kick your ass at this game,” she retorts. 

“yeah?”

“mhm. winner gets head.” 

“fine by me,” he nods. either way, he’ll win. 

“i’m still gonna hold your hand tonight, though.” she pouts.

“yeah. we’ll just keep it uh…PG.” 

she snorts out a laugh at this. “PG?” 

“mhm.” he nods. “family friendly.” 

“okay. well get out of my room then. cause i kind of wanna pounce on you.”

carmen lets out a soft laugh. this was going to be an easy game.

-

…or so he thought. 

up until the moment she came down the stairs in that fucking red dress. 

it hugs her curves like a glove, dawning dainty straps and a plunging neckline. his brain actually stutters for a moment watching her descend the stairs, just silently staring at her with eyes wide as saucers. 

a grin forms on the girl’s face at his stunned expression. she put the dress on expecting a reaction, but wasn’t expecting speechless. 

“jesus christ,” is the first thing that exits his mouth, and it comes out strained. 

“you like it?” she asks, giving a slow turn so he could admire it at every angle. 

“it’s-yeah…you look…amazing.” 

“bet you wanna touch, huh?” she teases with a grin on her face. 

“i’m-yeah. fuck yeah, i do.” he exhales, standing from the couch, walking closer to her. 

“well, you can,” she reaches forward to straighten out his suit jacket, “if you keep it PG.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing a hand on her hip, stroking his thumb against her. he studies her face. the way she’s done her makeup is classy and light. she’s wearing a red lipstick that makes him wonder what it would look like smeared across her face. 

“what’s up with your tie?” she asks, breaking him out of his trance. she’s furrowing her brows at the knot. 

“oh, i, uh…i can’t really tie one,” he admits bashfully. “i’ll do it for you,” she gives him a soft smile and reaches to undo the knot. 

the way her fingers brush against his neck leaves his skin feeling hot. 

like most things between them recently, it feels very domestic, having her tie his tie. he can’t stop staring at her as she does it, either, transfixed with the way she’s all dolled up for him. 

“there,” she loops the knot, and pushes it up to tighten, “very handsome.” her hand comes to the side of his face, and she strokes her thumb over his jaw. the way their eyes lock feel more intimate than carmen expects, feeling as if he’s baring his soul under her gaze. he wants to kiss her so bad, inwardly cursing his juvenile challenge he posed hours ago. cursing the fantasies that flood his mind of keeping her at home—providing for her, having her tie his ties and pack his lunches and have his babies. cursing the cruel way in which the world seems to rip away all that brings him joy. 

“you, uh…ready to go?” he clears his throat, pulling away from her, turning his head to hide a pained expression. 

“yeah. let me just grab my wallet.”

“leave it,” he commands, “you won’t need it.” 

a slight look of surprise forms on her face, morphing into a smile as the implication seeps in. 

“just wait for a second,” she turns to walk to the stairs, “it’s on my nightstand.” 

carmen grabs her wrist with a “hey,” stopping the girl in her tracks. 

“what did i just say?” he chides lowly. “leave it. let’s go.”

she turns to face him, taking in his serious expression. stern and handsome—it makes her want to push. but she figures she can save it for later, after she wins. 

“yes sir,” she responds, gazing up at him endearingly. 

he’s almost a little surprised at her obedience. feels himself puff up a little at the name. 

without another word, he opens the door and offers his arm. she takes it happily. 

-

the entire date ends up being a lot fancier than she ever would have expected. 

carmen had explained to her, as they rode in the back of the private car he had ordered, that he wanted to make tonight really special. partially to make up for the fact that he hadn’t been gentlemanly enough to take her out on a proper date before tonight, but mostly just because he wanted to spoil her with some good food before she leaves. 

“now, uh…i know you said you didn’t wanna go to my restaurant. but i was thinking we could just stop in so you could see it.”

“n-no, i do wanna go,” she asserts quickly, “i’d love to see it. i was just a little…embarrassed.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this.

“you don’t need to be. i’ll get us a private table and everything.” he nods, reaching over to rest a hand on her thigh. “no one will bother us.”

“yeah?” it sounds promising. 

“yeah, baby. i’ll take care of it.”

he pulls out his phone to make a call. 

it makes her stomach flutter a little bit.

when they arrive, she’s a bit taken aback by the bear. she already knew it was a nice place—though she wasn’t expecting the type of michelin star dining that leaves people speechless. 

they’re seated the moment they walk in, and escorted to a table near the back of the restaurant, slightly hidden by the thick foliage of a potted plant. 

carmen pulls her chair out for her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before sitting down across from her. 

“this is…it’s beautiful in here, carm.” 

“yeah?” he can’t help the boost her words give him, looking around a bit, “you think so?” 

“it’s incredible,” she nods, “i had no idea it would be so fancy.” 

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing his hand atop hers. he goes to thank her, but is interrupted by the greeting of their waitress. 

the girl smiles in reply, feeling bad for the clearly nervous employee that has to serve the big boss. 

they order signature cocktails that cost so much the prices aren’t even listed on the menu. she supposes this follows the premise that if you have to ask for the price of something, you can’t afford it. it makes her grateful for her wallet left atop the nightstand. 

“what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you’re back home?” he asks, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered. it’s easier to talk about when he’s not thinking about how soon it’ll be a reality. 

“go to the beach,” she responds quietly, after a moment, “and get in the water. even if it’s freezing cold.” 

“yeah?” a smile forms on his face at the mental image. 

“yeah, i uh…like chicago. but i really do miss home. and i miss my friends.”  

“totally.” he gives her a knowing nod. 

“carmy, do you-” she sighs, fidgeting with her ring, “can i call you? when i’m back?” 

“you fuckin’ better.” he responds quickly. 

the girl smiles at the sternness of his response, and reaches out to touch his hand. 

“okay,” she nods, “good. cause i’m gonna miss you.” 

“yeah, it’s…it’s not gonna be easy.” understatement of the year. “it’ll work out though. i’ll come visit you or somethin’.” 

and despite the weight of the circumstances, she smiles at this, and brings his hand up to her lips, placing a slow, tender kiss to the side of it. just wanting to show her appreciation. “you’d like it, i think. it’s really different from here.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. and my friends would freak meeting you.”

“why’s that?” he raises his eyebrows. 

“cause i mean, look at you. i’d probably have to fight them off.” 

carmen lets out a soft laugh at this, shaking his head in disbelief. “y’know, i’ve thought the same thing about you? just wanna keep you to myself.” 

she smiles, and moves from kissing his hand to kissing his fingers. 

carmen rests his thumb on her cheek, tightening his jaw as she moves onto his middle finger. how she places another kiss, pressing her lips to him, holding his wrist gently and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

the sight is kind of erotic. 

“you, uh…” he clears his throat, shuffling forward in his seat, “you giving up on our game?” 

“no,” she has this innocent look on her face, like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, “this is PG.” carmy feels the immense urge to shove his fingers in her mouth and make her suck. 

“nothing about that is… stop,” he grunts as she softly bites him. it’s clear that she’s trying to get him to fold. and she’s right on track so far. 

“fine. you’re no fun.” she pouts, releasing his hand and sitting straight. 

“i’m not gonna lose to you.” 

“yes you are,” she smiles, resting her chin in her hand. 

his eyes flicker down to the strain of her breasts against the neckline of the dress. maybe he is. 

“nah.” he shakes his head. “no way.”  

her gaze roams over him, and she bites at her lip. 

“well i might. you look so slutty in that suit.” 

“i-…what?” 

“you heard me.” 

“i look…slutty?” there’s a perplexed expression on his face. 

“super slutty. you’re so getting it when we’re home.” 

“jesus,” he exhales a laugh, averting his eyes from her face, “you drunk off that one cocktail?” 

“no!” she smiles, rolling her eyes. “i just thought you’d wanna know. i can't stop looking at you. you’re giving me dirty thoughts.” 

he meets her eyes again with a smile, and puts his hand flat on the table, reaching out for her. when she gives him her hand, he glances at the red nail polish adorning her fingers. 

“i, uh… i can't stop looking at you either.” he runs his thumb over her skin. “i’m…crazy about you. you know that, right?” 

“i know,” she purrs, softly raking her nails over his skin softly, looking at him through her eyelashes. 

it him feel a little feral. he takes a deep breath in through his nose. 

“so, you can give up on this stupid challenge already?” his tone is low. 

“no way,” she pouts, “i want my prize.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. and don’t forget this was your idea in the first place.” 

he goes to defend himself when he’s cut off by a familiar chuckle. 

“well, shit, welcome back!” 

the girl freezes, staring straight ahead at carmen. the voice is easily recognizable. she hesitantly turns her head to put the name to a face. 

“richie,” carmen greets unenthusiastically, giving him a small nod. 

“you just can’t get enough of us or what?” richie chuckles, glancing at the girl quickly. he does kind of a double take, snapping his head back to her with wide eyes. 

she sheepishly meets his gaze, trying to not crumble under the intense look he’s giving her. 

“this is, uh…” carmen narrows his eyes at the man, “this is my girlfriend, -” he introduces her name. 

richie blinks slowly, like he’s trying to process, repeating her name. testing how it feels in his mouth.

“uh, nice to-…nice to meet you. i’m richie.” he thrusts his hand forward. 

“nice to meet you, richie,” she smiles, giving him a gentle shake. this is the most intense eye contact she’s experienced in a while. the silence is tense, and he’s staring at her with this perplexed admiration. 

“you’re…wow,” richie chuckes, “do you have an older sister or something?” 

“jesus christ, richie! go fuck off back to the front you asshole,” carmen snaps, face growing slightly red. “hey, i’m sorry about him,” richie apologizes to the girl, “he forgets that this is a nice establishment where we don’t use crass language.” his eyebrows are raised as he smooths his jacket. 

she opens her mouth to respond, but carmy’s scolding cuts her off, snapping at the man to go do his job and “stop fucking around”. 

“hey, i just wanted to come introduce myself to your lovely date,” richie puts his hands up in defense, “can i get you anything else, sweetheart?” he asks the girl, “you want another one of those?” pointing to her cocktail. 

“maybe after dinner, thank you,” she responds politely. 

“ahh okay, i like the manners! you could teach your little boyfriend over here a thing or two.”

the man has a goofy charm about him, and although carmen is getting more irate by the second, she’s amused. 

“i’m trying. but he’s kind of stubborn.” her eyes flicker over to carmen, giving him a playful smile. his frown softens at this. 

“ha! don’t i know it! last week he-”

“richie,” carmy interrupts, “can you go check on our order?” 

“carm,” the girl groans. they didn’t place their order yet. he gives her a pleading look to just go along with it. 

and whether it’s the use of his nickname or the intonation of her voice, this look of recognition washes over richie’s face and his eyes widen. he looks at carmy, then back at her. a laugh bubbles out, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, clearing this throat. his face is red.

the girl almost dies of embarrassment on the spot, knowing exactly which dots are connecting in his head. 

“okay! yeah. well. nice meeting you. i’m just gonna…” he gestures behind him, backing away with a stifled grin on his face. 

when she looks back at carmen, his head is in his hand and his eyes are tightly shut. when richie is out of sight and he finally looks back up to her, there’s a pained looked on his face. 

“i’m-…jesus christ, i'm sorry about that.” he exhales. 

the girl feels dumbfounded by the situation, and doesn’t know what to say. 

she tries to keep it in, but bursts into giggles. there’s a brief look of surprise on the man’s face which forms into a small smile. he’s giving her the kind of bewildered look that says “i’m glad you found that funny because i was about 3 seconds away from getting physical”.

she rests her head in her hand, trying to take deep breaths and stop her laughing. it doesn’t really work. 

carmy’s expression of bewilderment softens and he begins to grin watching her. 

she finally gets control over herself and straightens, huge smile on her red face, wiping a stray tear from her eye with a big sigh. 

carmen thinks it’s probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. and there’s this sharp pain in his chest that feels like love but also like loss. like he’s discovered this secret to life that’s about to be stolen and never given back. 

his thoughts are interrupted by their waitress setting plates down in front of them. she introduces the dish, and tells them that chef sydney plated it specially for them. 

the girl has a big smile on her face, as she raves about how nice everything is, but carmy can’t help but feel a bit sad for the rest of the night. 

-

they return home hand in hand. the chill november air smells crisp like winter. leaves in the gutters rustle with the gentle breeze. 

as they walk from the car, she wraps her arm around his and leans in, resting her head on him for a moment. 

he turns his head and smiles at her. 

“i don’t know if i ever told you this…but uh,” he glances over her face, “you’re really beautiful.” 

“thank you, carmy” her soft smile grows, “i think you have told me.” 

“not enough.” he’s kind of in a trance, pace slowing as he watches her face. she giggles and pulls him forward to the entrance. 

the doorman of their building lets the two in, giving a small smile watching the young lovers laugh, that gleam of infatuation shining bright over their faces. 

as the elevator doors close, and she turns to face him, their laughs slowly cease. they stare at each other intently. 

“stop doin’ that” he mutters lowly.

“doing what?” 

“you keep looking at my lips.” 

“i really want to kiss you.” she bites at her lip, eyes fluttering as she keeps staring. 

carmy exhales harshly at this, clenching his fists to keep his hands to himself. 

she leans forward, bringing her face closer to his. he smells so fucking good, looks so handsome in his suit, she’s tempted to just tear him apart with her teeth. 

“do it,” he challenges quietly, their lips so close. 

she almost gives up on the challenge, leaning just a little closer, then-

ding

saved by the bell, literally. the elevator doors open to their floor. 

she gasps softly at the noise, pulling away from him, face feeling hot, core tingling. 

she had complained earlier, but this challenge is fun.

they hurriedly make their way to the door of their unit. 

the girl stumbles in her heels and almost face plants, but carmy catches her, wrapping an arm around her waist and preventing her from falling. 

without warning, he hoists her up, trying to throw her over his shoulder. 

“carmy!” she yelps, “put me down!” secretly hoping he doesn’t. 

he hoists her up some more, and she folds over his shoulder, dangling upside down, laughing harder than  she has in a long time.  

“you’re too clumsy,” he teases, hand securely gripping onto the back of her thigh, walking them the last 20 feet to their door. with his free hand he retrieves his keys, unlocks the door and nudges it open. 

he only puts her down once the door is closed behind him, and she wobbles on her feet when he does so, gripping onto his arms for stability. 

her face is rosy from the blood rushing to her head, and she has a girlish smile on her face as she looks up at him. 

“you’re strong.” 

he just smiles softly, gazing down at her. 

“can you make me another one of those moscow mules?” 

“yes, chef!” she returns, kicking off her heels and walking towards the kitchen. 

he runs a hand through his hair, sighing longingly, and follows, sitting on one of the barstools opposite the counter where she stands. 

“put on some music?” she asks softly, turning on the kitchen speaker. 

“what do you want me to play?” he opens his bluetooth and connects. 

“i dunno. something romantic.” the girl has a sweet smile on her face, measuring out the vodka for his drink. 

he shuffles an oldies playlist—the songs from the 1940s/1950s that sound like real love. like loving and being loved unconditionally. like settling down and coming home to each other every day.  

“good choice,” she compliments, cracking open a ginger beer. “i love this kind of music.” a frank sinatra song plays softly. 

“me too. it’s kind of nostalgic.” he thinks of the old black and white movies he would watch with his mom.  

“here,” she hands him the cold drink, garnished with mint and lime. 

“thank you,” he has a small smile on his face, taking a sip. it’s bubbly and refreshing. 

she clicks the speaker up a few notches, and hums along, putting away all of the drink materials. 

carmen loves the sound of it. 

the girl saunters over to him and perches herself on his lap, hand circling behind his neck. 

his arm wraps around her back as she steals his drink to take a sip. 

“good, huh?” he praises, dragging his thumb along the fabric of her dress. 

“it’s okay,” she sets the cup down, “not as good as the michelin star cocktail i had earlier.” 

“i disagree.” 

“oh really?” she has this smile of disbelief. 

“mhm. this could be award winning, easily.” 

“you’re just saying that.” 

“no. m’serious.” his hand rests on her knee, and he rubs it along her leg softly. 

she just smiles at this, and leans in to pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw. the first song fades into the next. 

“wanna dance?” she smiles against his skin.

“dance?” 

“yeah. slow dance with me.”

“i, uh… i don’t know how.” 

“what do you mean you don’t know how?” she giggles, standing up from his lap. “come here.”

he slowly joins her in the living room, a bashful expression on his face. he’s never been able to dance. it’s always made him feel stupid. but even so, he approaches. 

this love of mine goes on and on. 

she takes his hand and gently puts one on her waist, holding the other. she loops her other arm around his neck. carmy finds his nerves are almost immediately eased. 

they sway gently. the light is low and an ella fitzgerald song resonates through the room. it’s slow, and kind of sad. but still romantic. 

though life is empty since you’ve been gone.

carmen closes his eyes and rests his forehead on hers, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly sentimental.

his arms wrap around her further, and he pulls her closer. the music has an old fashioned grainy sound to it that makes it sound sweet. 

she leans in to kiss his neck, chest pressed flush against his. she feels a surge of warmth throughout her chest. feeling grateful. relishing the moment. resting her head against him. 

the two just sway gently, taking light steps ever so often. 

it almost felt as if they were playing pretend—both dressed in their nicest clothes, tipsy off of $20 cocktails, swaying to the romantic music. pretending the end isn’t in sight. 

i ask the sun and the moon. the stars that shine. 

he pulls back to get another look at her face. tries to ignore the way his throat tightens. 

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the girl’s gaze is longingly fixed on his handsome face. 

“i really did have a wonderful time tonight,” she whispers.

he gives her a smile, but it looks kind of sad. 

“i’m glad.” 

“i don’t really know how to say this, but…” she drops his hand and wraps both arms around his neck, getting a bit closer, “i…i’m really happy i met you.” 

he releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, eyes flickering over her face. he really wants to kiss her. 

“i-…you know i’m never gonna be able to stop thinking about you?” 

“i know, carm. i won’t either.” she hates how sad he looks. “but it’ll get easier, yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s gotta be the biggest lie he’s ever told someone.  

“i love you, you know?” her confession comes as a whisper. 

“i know, baby,” his tone is low, and he tightens his grip on her hips, like he’s afraid of her disappearing, “i love you too.”

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the song fades out slowly, and for some reason the music stops all together. the silence is thick, and the two lovers stare at each other with a palpable tension. 

her eyes dart down to his lips.

“i um…i think i give up.” she whispers. 

his brows furrow. before he can ask her what she means, the girl leans in and presses a firm, sweet kiss to his lips. and as innocent as the gesture is, it makes the air feel hot. makes it feel heavy. gives him goosebumps all over his arms. makes him groan.

almost instantly, carmen grabs the back of her head and pulls her against his lips, desperate to get more. he really does try to match her slow pace but he just needs it. he slips his tongue into her mouth, not even realizing how bad he needs it until he tastes her. 

the girl reciprocates for a moment, a small smile forming at the unexpected ferocity. her hands come to his chest and she eases herself away from him, feeling him chase her lips. 

“slow down,” she teases, helping to alleviate some of his hunger with a gentle kiss, a small grin on her face. 

she’s really good at using his words against him, he thinks to himself. 

“you look pretty,” the girl says in a low tone, eyes raking over the lipstick she’s left smudged over his pouty, swollen lips. slutty is probably the more accurate term. 

“pr-…what?” his brain stutters. 

the girl swipes her thumb over his lips and shows him the red stain, before leaning forward to pepper gentle kisses along his cheek, jaw, down to his neck. 

it surprises carmen when she keeps moving downwards, threading her fingers into his tie and loosening the knot, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin she can find. she moves eagerly, but gently—really savoring the way he tenses and shudders from the light touches. this time feeling as if she holds the power. 

the girl drops to her knees, smiling up at his look of wide-eyed shock as she fumbles with the buckle of his belt. 

“w-what are you doing?” he rasps, clearing his throat. 

“what do you mean?” she’s looking up at him innocently, slowly undoing his button and zipper.

“you, uh…you don’t have to.” he’s fixated on how pretty she looks down on her knees for him, “i know we made that bet, but if you don’t want to,-”

she pulls his briefs down to expose his cock and cuts him off with a breathy moan. it springs from confinement, tip red and throbbing. the sight alone is enough to send heat pooling between her legs, and she hungrily dives forward to lick a single stripe up the side of it. 

carmen lets out a low groan, still surprised by how enthusiastically she dove to her knees—her droopy eyes, the satisfied grin on her face looking up at him—it’s as if she didn’t even care about the challenge. like it’s prize enough just to please him. 

the girl softly grips his cock, leaning in and planting kisses teasingly along the length of it. making her way to the tip. it twitches in her hand. she flattens her tongue against the head of his cock and just pauses there for a second, looking up at his twisted brows and red cheeks with an amused expression. trying to gauge him. 

carmen intently watches her—pink tongue, manicured nails, looking up at him through her lashes. he lets out a guttural groan when she swirls her tongue around the head of his cock. 

the girl takes a breath and dives forward to take him into her mouth. 

“jesus.” his hand comes to card through her hair, pushing it out of her way as she hungrily takes him in. 

he’s thick and heavy in her mouth. she gives a few bobs of her head, coating him in her saliva, trying to find what makes him tick. tasting his distinct flavor and pressing her thighs together to try and chase some relief. 

“fuck, that’s-,” he exhales sharply as she moves her head up and down the length of his shaft, saliva coating his skin, beginning to stick to his pubic hair, “that’s good. keep doin’ that.” it’s more of a plea than a command. 

she doesn’t, though, instead easing her mouth from his cock, watching as a string of spit connects them as she pulls back with a soft giggle. 

he knows he’s completely fucked for her when his erection twitches at the noise. he rakes his eyes over her flushed face and chest. the way her lipstick is smudged across her spit-glossed lips. 

“keep doing what?” she asks teasingly.

“you-…stop fuckin’ playing with me,” he rasps exasperatedly. 

the girl smiles at his tone, and leans forward to give gentle kitten-like licks over his throbbing head. 

“m’not-” a kiss, “playing with you, carmy,” another kiss, “i’m just…enjoying myself.” she gently jerks the length of him, opening her mouth, bumping him against her tongue with every few strokes. she finds herself getting aroused trying to push his buttons like this. 

“you’re-mmh…you’re gonna fuckin’ get it if you don’t stop.” 

“you want me to stop?” she asks sweetly, “okay.” she drops her hand and sits back on her heels, watching as his erection bobs up and down. 

carmen’s gaze darkens, jaw clenched. 

“you-…” he scoffs, “i can see right through what you’re doing.”

“oh yeah?” she tests, “what am i doing?” 

“you’re trying to get me to get rough with you.”

bingo. she kind of wants a face fucking. 

“no i’m not.” the girl bites at her lip unconvincingly. 

“yes you are. and i'm not going to.” 

“wha-why?” she pouts, scooting closer to him. his cock brushes against her cheek. 

“not like this. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he reaches forward to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, letting his hand trail over her face. 

“you won’t,” she whines, eyes darting between his face and his raging erection. it’s big, so maybe he will. but she doesn’t care. “i can take it.” 

“you like to argue,” he grumbles, taking ahold of her face, squeezing her cheeks together slightly. she looks so cute like this. 

“carm,” she whines, “i can take it. promise i can. please?” 

carmen releases her face, trailing his hand behind her head and gripping her hair. with his other hand he fists his cock and gently eases it forward, rubbing the tip against her slick, pouty lips. 

“open,” his tone is low, and he slowly pushes himself into her mouth when she complies. he goes until he feels restriction, and pulls back. 

the girl lets out a sound of disagreement at this. 

“hey.” carmen chides firmly, “you’re gonna take what i fuckin’ give you.” he watches the way her eyelids flutter at his stern tone. the way she shifts her body overtop her heel.

the girl lets a sigh out through her nose and tries to exercise patience as the man slowly rocks his hips forward and back, never breaching the halfway point. remaining gentle and delicate in his motion. 

when she tries to sink her mouth further forward, he grips her hair and harshly tugs her back. her yelp is muffled around his cock. 

“what, baby? that hurt?” his tone has a mocking edge to it. “thought y’said you could handle it.” he pulls himself out of her mouth so she can respond. 

“i can.” her voice trembles. face is red hot. panties soaked with slick. 

“yeah?” he slaps his cock against her cheek, “gonna be a tough girl for me?” 

“yes,” she pleads, eyes fixated on him, enthusiastically embracing his shift of dominance.  

to her surprise, carmen steps away from her. he’s giving her this look as if he’s about to devour her. silence, for a moment. like he’s thinking. 

“take off your dress.” 

she blinks, processing the request for a moment. after she shoots up and undoes her zipper, she hastily shoves the fabric down her body, letting it pool around her ankles before stepping out. and by the time she’s about to get back on her knees, carmen’s own clothes are on the floor next to hers. 

the man graciously rakes his eyes over her nude body, thanking each and every saint he could think of. grabbing her and pulling her in for a frantic kiss before she can sink back down to her knees. he can taste the fruity remnants of lime and mint on her lips from the cocktail she had at the restaurant. 

the girl eagerly accepts his kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth, swallowing the small groan he releases. 

“wanna taste you again,” she pleads in between kisses. 

“yeah?” he bites at her lip.

“y-eah,” she gasps, surprised at how firmly he had nipped her. 

carmen pulls away with a final kiss, moving to sit on the couch. he spreads his knees apart and locks eyes with the girl, a silent beckon to come. 

she obeys, of course, and sinks down to the floor in between his legs, resting her hands atop his strong thighs. it’s only moments before she’s eagerly diving forward to take him into her mouth again. 

carmy just watches her, savoring the moment. savoring how her tongue swirls around him and how she keeps going lower and lower. how her face gets redder and how she stares up at him with blown pupils. it’s surreal—almost dreamlike. 

he gathers her hair in a haphazard ponytail, using his grip to push her a little further down. make her move a little faster. he can tell she likes it, too, by the way her moans vibrate around his cock. 

carmen pulls her back by her hair, forcing her to take a breather. his eyes rake over her flushed cheeks and pouty lips. she looks like a little doll, and the juxtaposition of her pretty face with the filthy position drives him fucking crazy. 

“stick your tongue out,” he tells her gruffly. 

and she does, showing him her tongue and gazing up at him through her lashes. 

carmy takes a firm hold of her face with his free hand and spits into her mouth. then eases his cock back inside. 

it’s enough to make her want to cum on the spot. 

the girl takes him in deeper than she had yet, almost hitting the back of her throat. and despite her gag, she continues to enthusiastically bob her head, desperate for more. 

it’s so enjoyable, in fact, that she trails her hand down between her legs, beginning to circle her swollen clit just to alleviate some of the heat she felt. and it feels so fucking good just to have that added touch that her body goes a little limp, jaw goes slack. 

she gives carmen complete control of her movements, tethered to him by the tight fist wrapped around her hair—consciously focusing on relaxing her throat as tears brim her eyes. 

“jesus christ, that’s good, baby.” he shifts forward, filling her mouth with more of his length. watches in mild enjoyment as she gags around him. 

“just relax,” he soothes, moving his free hand to caress her face, dragging her back by her hair. 

the girl takes a sharp breath in as soon as she can, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. her fingers are drenched with slick arousal, staring carmy in the eyes, lips parted as continues to eagerly rub circles over her clit. 

“fuck me,” he strains, watching her play with herself, unaware of her desperation until that moment. the sight looks like it’s straight out of a porno. “you having fun down there?”

she nods her head eagerly, wiping some saliva from her chin with the back of her hand, leaning forward to try and take him back into her mouth. 

carmen gives her hair a little tug, keeping her in place. 

she glances up to give him a questioning look.

“come give me a taste.” his eyes glance down to her lips. 

a small smile forms on her face as she processes his request. she gingerly leans forward, careful to not earn another tug, and licks a long stripe up his cock. 

carmy loosens the grip on her hair as she goes to stand up, enthusiastically accepting her tongue into his mouth to taste himself. 

there’s something about the ferocity of the kiss that makes him feel like he’s on the verge of finishing all over his stomach. he takes deep breaths trying to push the feeling away. and that’s before he feels the wet heat of her pussy rubbing against the tip his length. 

the girl finds herself so desperate for release she begins to rock against his erection, letting it glide through her wet folds, gauging his reaction to see if he’ll stop her. 

and he doesn’t, instead groaning into her mouth and grabbing her ass. 

so the girl positions her wet hole over his cock, and slowly begins to sink down, letting out a gasp at the stretch. 

“fuck,” the two chant in tandem, hers as a whimper and his as more of a gruff exhale. 

carmen marvels about how perfect the stretch of her wet hot cunt feels around him as she eases herself down until she’s flush with his lap. 

they just stare at each other for a second in this feral, pupils-blown kind of frenzy, mouths both agape at the sensation of his cock nudged so deeply within her. how she’s not even moving and it’s just so hot and wet and deep and fucking good. 

carmen’s hand sides up her back, thumb pressing into the dip of her spine. his face is hot and his cock is throbbing and his mouth moves faster than his mind can.

“m’keeping you here with me,” he almost growls, pressing his fingers into her skin, eyes locked on hers. doesn’t miss the way she flinches a little at the words. 

the girl grips the sides of his face, and leans forward, pressing her forehead against his, closing her eyes and shakily exhaling as she rocks her hips back and forth against him. 

carmy says her name. it comes out strained. his hands grab her ass and he pulls and pushes her, intensifying the gentle rocking motion. 

the girl presses her lips to his, hoping to quiet him with a kiss. hoping to forget about it and just enjoy the moment. but she feels him call her name again, this time against her lips. the girl begins to softly bounce herself on his lap, jostling his length inside of her. 

“hey,” he exhales in between her eager kisses. “i didn’t mean-” another kiss, “-you just feel so good and i-”

“carmy,” she whispers softly against his lips, “be quiet baby. just-mmh… let’s just enjoy it.” 

carmen groans into her mouth as she rocks her hips against his again, hand coming to the small of her back. and it’s definitely enjoyable. it’s just hard to not think about it ending. to not plead with her for just a little more. 

the girl takes his scrunched face and nod as a gesture to keep going, so she shuffles her knees in a bit and begins slowly riding him. one hand touches his firm chest, the other trailing her kisses from his jaw to his neck. 

“jesus christ,” is what slips from his mouth, as he feels her gentle bites, allowing himself to relinquish that control he holds so dearly, for just a moment.

when she pulls back from his neck, her face and chest are flushed, nipples perked, and she’s pushing her breasts out trying to get him to look.

but his eyes just remain fixed on hers, like he’s trying to memorize her blown pupils and color of her irises. 

“is it okay?” she asks breathily as she keeps rocking her hips, feeling unexpectedly nervous under his intense gaze. 

“you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he mutters immedietly, as if he doesn’t entirely process her question. 

and even though they were this far along, the girl finds herself feeling shy at his sincerity. she goes to deflect as she usually does to compliments that fluster her. 

“n-no, i-”

“-you are. my pretty fuckin’ girl. never gonna let you outta my sight,” he almost growls. 

and by this point her body is hot and her pussy is throbbing and she’s finding the words that come out of his mouth so incredibly tempting. the implications less serious under the blanket of lust. so her lips part in a moan and she presses her hand to his chest and begins to ride faster, easing off then re-impaling herself on his cock. his hands come up to cup her breasts, ghosting thumbs over her nipples. 

“yes, carm.”

“yeah?” 

“mhm. love how you touch me.” 

she shuffles her feet under her knees, angling herself to be able to bounce a bit more comfortably. 

“you feel so-fuck… so good, you know that?” carmen grits, face scrunching at the new sensation.  

her stomach flutters at his praise, eyes raking down his form beneath her. his flushed skin. the way the muscle of his shoulder bulges out a little as he’s grabbing her like his life depends on it. 

“feels so big,” she whisper-cries.

“yeah? is it too much?” 

“n-no. so good. m’so full.”

his eyes glance down to where their bodies are connected. watches her ride him for a moment. groans at the way she becomes nearly all the way flush with his hips. 

“so good at that,” he grits, mesmerized by the way her sticky arousal clings to his pubic hair. “take me so good. you like feelin’ full, huh?” 

her mouth just falls open in response, eyes screwing shut as she feels him reach forward to circle her clit. the added pleasure only spurs her on, beginning to eagerly ride him, breasts bouncing in front of his face. 

“holy shit,” she cries, surprised how easily she feels her orgasm building, nails leaving crescents on the skin of his shoulder. 

“you close already, baby?” he whispers with a small, knowing grin on his face. “m’barely touching you.”

she just moans in response, unable to open her eyes, bucking her hips more wildly by the second, movements becoming sloppier, needier. 

“just keep-ah…just stay right there,” she pleads, savoring his slick, feather-light touches to her clit, feeling tears well up in her eyes. 

“right there?” carmen eases his fingers back slightly at the sight of her tears, and it’s just enough pressure to keep her on edge. 

“y-yeah, i’m…just please-” she cries pathetically, breaths becoming frantic, a static feeling tingling through her body. “please, carmy, m’gonna cum. just a little more.” 

and he can’t help but just marvel at her. the twisted expression of pleasure on her face. the stray tear that slips down her cheek. it’s probably the most erotic thing he’s ever seen. 

as a thank you for the next year of jerk-off material, he lets her have just a little more. watches with enjoyment as she finally comes unraveled with this loud, primal cry. feels the sting of her nails against his chest and bicep. 

the man holds her hip with his free hand, thrusting up into her as her movement falters and she slumps forward. 

“carm, i-” she gasps, body becoming overstimulated, thighs trembling.

“i got you, baby. i got you.” 

“it’s-ah!”

“one more second, pretty girl, m’almost done. can you hold on for me?” 

“y-yeah,” she cries, desperately grabbing onto him for dear life. there’s this overwhelming heat surging through her body. her lips feel numb and tingly. but she holds on and takes it like a big girl. 

“you’re fuckin’ gripping me.” he strains, eyebrows twisted up in pleasure.

the girl isn’t able to respond through her jagged breathing, instead leaning forward to hungrily kiss him again.

“y’gonna have to move in a sec,” carmen warns, gripping her hips with bruising force. 

“no,” she begins to move her hips against him, meeting his thrusts halfway.

carmy groans, eyes nearly rolling back into his head. “what do you mean no?” he strains. 

“want it in me.” 

“jesus, fu-” he exasperatedly exhales, “can’t baby. you know i can’t.” 

they lock eyes, pupils blown. 

“please. wanna feel it.” her plead comes in between desperate breaths. 

“what, you want a baby or something?” the man asks her, partially in disbelief and partially in a fiery haze of lust. 

“yes-!” she gasps. and even though a baby is probably the last thing she wants, there’s this inexplicable urge that overtakes. that revels in the idea of being linked with him forever. 

“yeah?” he’s shocked by her answer, but not dissuaded, “you want me to put a baby in you?” 

“yeah, carm. want your baby. wanna stay here with you.” the girl finds herself coming up on a second orgasm, relishing the way his cock perfectly nudges against her g-spot. 

“fuckk,” he groans, face growing hot at her words, “you want that? really?” studying her expression for any trace of hesitation. finding none. “cause i’ll give it to you.” and he’s dead serious. he’ll buy a ring for her tomorrow if she wants it, he thinks to himself. 

“yes, i want it,” she cries, “cum in me, please.”

and between the desperation of her plead and her breasts bouncing right in his face, it takes him about 5 more seconds before he erupts. 

his cock twitches, body stiffens and he lets out a guttural moan, grabbing onto her hips with a bruising force. 

and the feeling of his hot cum inside of her is enough for the girl to fall over the edge for a second time, tear-soaked eyes rolling back into her head, a whitehot bliss surging through her body. 

the two lovers are overcome with the sensation, sexes pulsing rhythmically in sync, graciously sharing orgasms with each other. 

carmen’s eyes are scrunched shut, brows furrowed and lips parted. 

the girl’s head falls to his shoulder, shakily breathing through the feeling. trying to come back down to earth. 

they just stay there for a moment, panting. recovering. 

she finds that she can hear his heartbeat. zones into the rhythm. listens as it gradually slows.

carmy wraps his arms around her and nuzzles his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. 

when she finally pulls back after a few minutes, she plants a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“you good?” he asks against her mouth. 

“so good.” and so full and so warm. she never wants to move. 

but like all good things, they must come to an end. so the girl begins to slowly ease herself off his cock. and suddenly realizes what just happened. 

“oh shit.” 

“what?” carmen opens his eyes. watches as his cum slowly drips out of her. tries to take a mental picture. 

but the girl quickly reaches over to grab a tissue off the coffee table, frantically wiping away the surplus of the stickiness leaking from her core. 

“why didn’t you pull out?” her tone grows a bit frantic. 

“wha-cause you fuckin’ begged me not to.” he shakes his head, trying to comprehend her question. 

“i-…” she stutters, exhaling, “fuck, carmy, i’m not on birth control!” 

he has this perplexed expression on his face, blinking slowly and trying to rationalize her response. “you…did you not want me to? m sorry, i-”

“-no, i know i told you to. i just-…i got caught up in the moment i guess.” between the release of her orgasm and the weight of her previous request, the girl finds herself fighting the urge to cry. 

carmen must seem to notice this, because his hardened expression softens a bit. he quickly tries to think of something comforting to say. 

“want me to take you to get a plan b?” 

nice, carmy, he thinks to himself. he’s never been good at responding fast under pressure.

“yeah.” her response comes as a whisper. comes with a single tear. she turns her head away from him and embarrassedly tries to wipe it away. 

“hey,” he says tenderly, going to hold the side of her face, turning her back to face him. just studies her face for a moment with furrowed brows, trying to think of what to say. “you…you know i’d support you, right? if you…whatever you decide.”

“really?” it’s hard for her to believe him. 

“yes, really.”

“you’d want a baby?”

“if that’s what you want.” he has the most genuine expression on his face, eyes locked with hers. he watches another tear roll down her cheek and adds, “seriously. i’m all in.”

she’s shocked by his sincerity. it doesn’t make anything easier, either. just makes everything feel more confusing. 

“i’m…carmy, i can’t.” her words come out as a kind of sob. 

“that’s okay.” he reassures wholeheartedly. he doesn’t know why he feels just a little disappointed. 

“but i want to.” the girl plants her hands on his bare chest. “it’s just…you’re older than me. you’re ready for that kind of thing. i’m…such a mess, i can’t even imagine being a mom yet.” it comes out choked, the tears just keep falling. 

“i get it.” he nods. “really. you don’t have to explain yourself.” he rubs circles with his thumb along her hip. “i just wanted you to know. it’s your choice.”

“you’d wanna have a baby with me?” she wipes at her cheek. 

“yeah.” he nods, brows furrowed. “of course i would.” 

and just for a moment, the girl lets herself fantasize. lets her brain entertain the thought of having a family with him. of just leaving everything in california and starting new. of being so selfish and doing what she wants, just this one time. 

the thought is so tempting she finds it hard to distance herself from. to rationalize. 

she wouldn’t be a good mom. a good wife. not right now. she still has so much to learn about herself. so much to still figure out. 

after a moment, she finally speaks. 

“can you take me to cvs?” 

carmen nods, and reaches up to wipe the last of her tears away. 

he ignores the gnawing feeling of loss. has to remind himself it’s the loss of a fantasy. 

the loss of something that never existed. 

-

“fuck me.” she drops her bag to the ground, frantically opening pockets and unzipping zippers. “carm, i think i left my passport on the-“ 

“-no you didn’t.” he fishes in his back pocket for the booklet and hands it over. “here.”

the girl lets out a sigh of relief, staring up at the man with this perplexed, amazed expression. 

“thank you.” it comes out in a sort of whisper, and when she goes to take it from him, their fingers brush against each other. 

“you, uh…you only got an hour left.” he runs his hand through his messy hair. “y’should probably go find your gate.” 

“yeah.” she stands. her bag remains on the ground. “okay.” 

the two just stare at each other for a minute, locked in this trance-like state. 

“you know, i-”

“-do you think we-” 

their words overlap. 

“i’m sorry, you go-”

“-no, go ahead.” carmen nods, a small smile on his face. 

she takes a deep breath, piecing together what she even wants to say. 

“just…thank you. for everything. and i’m gonna miss you.” her words don’t do it justice. there’s so much more she wants to say. 

he nods, swallowing harshly. his fingers fumble for the piece of paper folded up in his pocket. 

“i, uh…listen. i know you’re gonna be busy, and…want to focus on other things, which i get. but, uh…i was thinking, if you wanted…no pressure…uh,”

“what is that?” she interrupts, curiosity getting to the better of her, pointing to the folded up paper he holds. 

“it’s uh…it’s a plane ticket. well, a voucher.” he hurriedly explains, “from LAX to ORD. i was thinking if you ever had a weekend free or something…” he trails off, trying to gauge her reaction. hoping he’s not overstepping. 

she takes deep breaths—having promised herself earlier that she wouldn’t cry. but the moment she goes to open her mouth to speak, a sob comes out. she claps her hand over her mouth. closes her eyes as she feels carmen’s arms instantly wrap around her. 

“hey,” he soothes, kissing the side of her head. “c’mon, don’t cry. you’re gonna make me cry.” his voice wobbles a bit.

the girl burrows her face into his chest, staining his shirt with tears. 

“i don’t wanna go-!” she cries, clinging onto him as if her life depends on it. 

“i know.” he nuzzles his nose into her hair. “i know, pretty girl. it’s gonna be okay.” his throat burns. face feels hot. and as much as he hates it, tears brim at his eyes. he told himself he wasn’t going to cry. 

and so they just stand there, holding each other. ignoring the shuffle of the crowd around them as people queue into the security line. 

ignoring the grainy announcements over the pa system. 

ignoring the fact that it would’ve been so much less painful had they never gone so far. 

for a moment, it feels like the world around them stops. the passage of time, the priority of leaving, all of it. 

just for a moment. like they’re back in the living room and ella fitzgerald is playing. 

“don’t forget about me,” she pleads into the fabric of his jacket. 

“i don’t think i could if i tried.”

at this, she places a soft kiss onto his neck. “i’ll miss you.”

“me too,” carmen chokes out, grabbing at her waist, her hips, trying to memorize the feeling of her body against his. 

and as the girl slowly tries to pull away, he holds her a little tighter, trying to turn his head so she doesn’t see him cry. 

“carmy,” she whispers soothingly, reaching up to wipe a tear from his face. 

“just, uh…call me when you land, yeah?” he brushes the gesture off, feeling all too vulnerable under her sympathetic gaze. 

“okay.” she rubs his cheek. 

“alright. i guess you should go get in line, then.” he goes to step back. 

“wait.”

the girl pulls his face in and presses one last kiss to his lips. it feels like they lock together. like the perfect fit.

and carmen just melts into the feeling, letting out the smallest of groans into her mouth. it’s her taste, her smell, everything. for a split second he debates giving up on his dreams. selling the restaurant and following her to california. raising babies and laying in the sand and swimming in the ocean no matter how cold it is. 

she slowly steps back, leaving him wanting just a little more. 

“i love you.” she softly reminds him, holding his hand. 

he nods, pressing his lips together and looking away from her. feeling so stupid for the tears that burn his eyes. 

“i love you too.” 

the girl takes another step back, letting her hand fall from his. picking up her bag and giving him one last good look. imprinting into her mind his messy curls and handsome face. 

and it feels like there’s nothing left to say, really. 

so she turns and walks away from him. towards the security checkpoint doors. taking deep breaths and wiping at her cheeks. she’s about to push through the doors.

don’t look back. do not look back. 

she turns to look back at him. and he’s still there, standing in the same place she’d left him. his hands are in his pockets. jaw is clenched. just watching her with this look on his face that makes her want to dive into his arms and tell him she’ll stay. 

the girl raises her hand. gives him a small wave. he returns the gesture with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

and with that, she pushes through the doors. 

in a way, it feels like she’s leaving home. not returning home. 

for the entire flight, she stares out the window in complete silence. thinking about the last few months. biting back more tears with every new thought. 

she gets back to san diego around 6 in the evening. takes a taxi to the beach that’s a mile from her house. 

sends carmy a picture of the waves rolling in, the sky stained a pinkish orange. 

within a few minutes, she receives a heart on the photo. 

he doesn’t send anything else. 

it does feel good to be home. the girl has to continually remind herself of this over the next few weeks. it feels familiar. feels safe. 

but along with the joy of being back home, there’s this underlying feeling of grief. a gnawing in her chest whenever she lays her head down at night. 

she feels haunted by carmen, in a way. 

her brain plays cruel tricks on her—mistaking any white man with curly brown hair at the supermarket for him just for a split second. 

stalking his instagram. his restaurant’s instagram. his restaurant’s employee’s instagrams. trying to keep up with him. 

she doesn’t call him. doesn’t text. 

and carmy doesn’t either. 

she opens their message thread ever so often just to make sure she didn’t miss his notification. types out messages and deletes them and stares at the heart he’d left on her picture. 

she convinces herself that if he wanted to call her, he would’ve. takes his silence as a message. 

on christmas day she has one cranberry cocktail too many and finally gives in. navigates to her contacts and presses on the phone icon next to his name. 

and the line rings. and rings. and rings. and right before she’s about to hang up and drown herself in more cranberry cocktails, the line picks up. 

“hey,” comes carmen’s voice through the phone. it’s so good to hear that the girl blanks out for a minute, not even sure of what to say. “hello?” he asks into the silence. 

“fuck you,” she blurts out, clapping a hand over her mouth as soon as the words leave. it was just the first thing that came to mind. 

after a stunned silence, she hears him give a surprised chuckle, followed by a “merry christmas to you too.” carmen grabs his jacket and opens the door of his mom’s house, stepping out into the cold, snowy night. 

“you never called me.” 

“i, um…i didn’t think you wanted me to,” the man responds truthfully, “you never responded.” 

what? he never sent anything to respond to. 

“respond to-…” she scoffs, “what, you ‘liking’ my message?” 

“yeah,” he feels a little embarrassed hearing it out loud, “yeah, i guess i can see what you mean. i, uh…sorry. i was actually just thinking about you.” 

his admission sends butterflies through her stomach. she rolls her eyes at the feeling. 

“yeah, well merry christmas. and i hope you get coal.” her face feels hot. “and i miss you.” the last part spills out without her permission. 

he gives her another soft laugh. 

“yeah, i deserve coal. and i…i miss you so fucking much,” he admits, watching his breath freeze in the air in front of him, “you still liking it out there?”

“it’s alright.” her response comes softly. she plays with a loose thread on her sweater. 

“yeah? your mom doing okay?” 

“i guess. as okay as she can. is yours?” 

carmen exhales, half humorous, half exasperation. “yeah. as okay as she can.” he had been called a bitch more times than he could count tonight, actually. but he keeps it light. 

the girl just hums in agreement at this, and a brief silence settles between them. he’s the one to eventually break it. 

“you, uh…you think about coming out anytime soon?” god, he wishes he had a cigarette. “still got your room empty.”

“yeah, i have.” it’s all she’s been thinking about. but she tries to stay nonchalant. “maybe after new years.” 

“great, yeah.” his heart pounds a little faster at her words. “no pressure, just…yeah. i’d love to see you.”

“okay. i’ll um…i’ll let you know,” she tells him softly, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry. 

“okay.”

“merry christmas, carmy.”

“merry christmas.” he shuffles from side to side. “stay in touch, yeah? it was really good to hear from you.”

“yeah, i will. you too. goodnight.”

“wait, i uh-” he wants to tell her he loves her. 

“hm?” she puts the phone back up to her ear. 

“just, um…take care of yourself, yeah?” he can’t seem to muster up the courage.

“i will.” 

“okay. good.”

“i…i’m gonna feel stupid for saying this, but i love you, carm.” 

he gets this feeling of relief and pain all in one. “i love you too.” so much. “thanks for callin’.”

“goodnight.”

“yeah, night.” 

the line disconnects. and it feels better than before. 

hurts still, yes. 

but better. 

the girl finds herself staring at the ceiling that night, just thinking. about her family, her career. about carmen. finds solace in the way that gnawing feeling is replaced by a fluttering. a hopefulness. 

and what is love, if not unconditional and everlasting? 

she drifts off to sleep with warm cheeks and the image of his goofy smile at the forefront of her mind. 

-

a/n: ow. 

really hope you enjoyed this series :) these two i hold so near & dear to my heart and i thoroughly enjoyed watching this story fold out along with you. thank you all so much for your patience with the process & for your kind words!!! xoxox

[ebongawk]

kiss prompt 42 would be super cute!

remiss to admit I already wrote this one and Tumblr glitched and deleted it so I hope it actually posts this time 🥲

42. A clumsy kiss

It was late.

Eddie was still laughing to himself, despite how fucked up it was that everyone had ditched to avoid helping with cleanup duties. Like, alright, maybe he'd gotten on a power trip and decided to kill off Jeff and Grant's characters during their second-to-last Hellfire meeting of his high school career.

So what?

It was their own goddamn fault, negging him at lunch today. So maybe he'd ditched their morning chill session after Chrissy stopped by to say hi and he followed her like a sick puppy in desperate need of attention.

Could he truly be blamed? It was Chrissy Cunningham.

And he was friends with her.

(Actually he was fucking head-over-feet crazy about her, thinking so endlessly of her and their weird, unexpected friendship that he'd drawn a picture of Sune, the goddess of beauty and love, and accidentally made her look exactly like Chrissy, but. Semantics.)

They should've anticipated the consequences. Was no small matter, giving the dungeon master shit when he held the fate of their characters in his notoriously ruthless hands.

But their total shock and disdain when he'd killed them? Hilarious.

As he swept up the endless Doritos crumbs from the theater room's wood floor, he laughed again at the memory of Jeff shouting so loud the acoustics carried his voice through the entire space and back.

Grant went full Pavarotti when his elven archer fell to the depths of the Underdark.

Served them right.

Still, they were dicks for not staying to take care of their own messes. The younger kids he understood – curfew to adhere to and all that – but Jeff, Grant, and Gareth had straight up left with loose excuses that they all knew were bullshit. And if the drama room was left untended over the weekend, Eddie was the only one that would be in hot water with Mrs. Thames, since he was the one she entrusted with the key.

A soft knock yanked him out of his aggressive sweeping, looking up just as Chrissy peeked her way through the ajar door. He'd forgotten that she stuck around tonight for junior varsity tryouts for the coming year.

"Oh, you are still here," she breathed. "I saw your van in the lot on my way out, but I wasn't sure if you were here or if you were in Principal Higgins' office doing something, um, untoward." She looked around as she stepped through the threshold, the door clicking shut behind her. "Where are the guys?"

See, that was the thing. Chrissy wasn't just friends with him. The entirety of Hellfire was fucking batty over her. So why did he get all the shit?

"They ditched," Eddie snorted as he swept the crumbs into a dustpan, emptying it into the garbage can he'd stolen from the janitor's closet.

Chrissy quirked a brow at him. "What'd you do?"

"Egads, Cunningham!" he shouted, slapping a hand over his heart as he staggered toward her. "Must I be at every fault in your judgmental eyes?"

"Not every fault." She hummed, leaning against the table. Eddie scoffed, grabbing a notebook to start notating where the minis were before tossing them in a storage box. "But this one seems a little obvious."

Eddie finished his scribbling quietly, mulling this over. He didn't have to be entirely honest.

"Alright, so maybe I killed Jeff." Chrissy gasped. "And Grant."

"Eddie!" Chrissy chastised. "How could you?"

"It's fine!" he cried. "They were so angry about it that they fucking forgot that Sinclair found the Hand of Kelemvor buried in that chest in the Shadowfell. He can use it to bring them back!" Eddie snorted. "Serves them right, though. They'll have to scrounge up new character sheets before next week that'll be entirely useless."

Hoisting herself onto the table after he'd haphazardly wiped it down, Chrissy cast him a critical eye.

"Wouldn't Lucas have to, um, sacrifice something to use that?" she asked.

This was still kinda novel to him. He and Chrissy had been friends for a while now, and when they first started hanging out, she asked him about his DnD stuff. Well, actually, she asked him to explain it to her to verify that it wasn't a cult, as her ex-boyfriend so stupidly believed, and then after that she just... kept asking how the story was going. What they'd done that week. Not only that, she retained it. Filing away little pieces of information and gasping when she later realized how they tied into the greater plot of the story.

"Are you really even interested in this stuff?" he'd asked at one point. She was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, feet tucked under his thigh as they ignored the small stack of homework and he recounted the previous day's campaign. "Or are you just humoring me?"

"I like it so much, Eddie," she'd replied around a soft smile. The one he fucking prayed was reserved just for him. "It's like you're writing this whole fantastical story just for me."

"Just for you, huh?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm the only one lucky enough to hear it."

"He will," Eddie verified Chrissy's inquiry. Leaning up against the table beside her and shrugging. "The deity he ascribes to is kind of temperamental. She'll probably ask for his life in exchange for theirs."

Chrissy gasped in horror.

"Eddie, that's awful!"

"It's necessary!" he cried in response, chuckling at her genuine astonishment. "Listen, we've all done it, okay? Before I became DM, I sacrificed myself twice for the greater good. Gareth has lost three characters, and Grant and Jeff have both lost one. The younglings have played it too safe up 'til now, in my opinion. It's about time they accept that which they cannot control: change."

Chrissy blinked, her lips parted as she looked at him.

"It comes for us all, Cunningham," he said, his voice softer. Gaze dropping around a forced chuckle. "No matter how much we wish it wouldn't sometimes."

And that–– that was entirely too fucking revealing.

It was something they hadn't quite discussed, really. What they were going to be when she was off working her way through her scholarships in Portland and Eddie was who-fucking-knew doing God-knows-what away from this shitty ass town.

Honestly, he kinda figured she'd forget about him. This little stint of friendship had maybe opened her up to not judging books by their covers, if she ever had (Eddie knew she hadn't), but once they were no longer convenient, he figured he'd just become a fond memory for her. A soft little smile as she flipped through her yearbook in the coming decades.

A past she was happy to move on from.

Whether that made him want to kick his own teeth in was completely inconsequential.

"Change isn't always bad," she said, her own voice having dropped to a whisper. "Is it?"

He let his eyes drift back to hers. Meeting the determined storms he could see swirling there.

But he didn't have a chance to answer.

Because she was surging toward him, eyes scrunched closed, and he knew, he knew what she was trying to do, but she completely overestimated her aim. Lips landing clumsily on the small stretch of skin between his upper lip and nose, and her own nose mashed painfully just under his eye, making him wrench himself backward with a grunt.

"Oh–– Oh my God––"

"Aw, fuck."

"Oh, God, Eddie, I'm so––" Hands covering her mouth, she looked horrified all over again for an entirely different reason. "I-I'm so sorry, oh my God, did I hurt you?"

"It's alright––"

"No, it isn't, oh my gosh! This is so mortifying, God––"

"Hey––"

"I'm so sorr––"

"Hey," he said, wrapping one hand around her wrists and easing them down. "Chrissy. It's alright." She still looked entirely humiliated, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh. "I mean, as long as you–– Did you–– Were you–– Uh. Were you trying to kiss me?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Chrissy let out a little trembling laugh herself.

"Trying being the operative word, I guess," she replied shakily. "I... I mean, nuggets, Eddie, I've wanted to kiss you for ages. And then, that whole thing with change and stuff, I thought, maybe this could be a good change. For us, you know? Because I just–– I like you so much, and––"

That was enough.

Cupping her cheek with his free hand, Eddie took the lead. Gently pulling her in, the little furrow between her brow not registering his intention until he was pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. Cutting off whatever apology she was likely to spew next with a little gasp that he greedily swallowed down.

He pulled back the tiniest bit, and Chrissy was quick to close the distance again. Extracting her wrists from his grip so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders.

She tasted like the wild freedom of his feelings for her. This endless stretching of wilderness, trees and foliage entangled with meadows of wildflowers that grew without reservation. Sprawling landscapes that infiltrated his very being, until she'd suffused herself into every blade of grass and knob of dirt that had sprouted within him.

It was fucking insane, how well his hand fit in the curve of her waist. How easily his lips molded against hers. How good and right and natural it felt to have her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his scalp.

"Good change," he acknowledged easily when they finally broke apart for air. The little giggle she let out washed across his lips, lingering on his tongue with the yellow sunshine happiness of his wooded being.

"Amazing change," she agreed before leaning in to kiss him again.

kiss roulette!

[johnnyutah]

average adam faulkner stanheight fan: if adam isn’t in saw xi we riot! @lionsgate @kevingruetert @jameswan #adamlives #justiceforadam #corpseinconsistencies

average john kramer fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

average jill tuck fan: Appreciation post for the Women of Saw 🩷 [the same ten photos that get posted once a week]

average lawrence gordon fan: last night i watched a 2004 tv movie about serial killers called ‘the riverman’, followed by the cheesy family rom-com ‘a castle for christmas’. today my friends and i are going to binge the entire third season of netflix’s ‘stranger things’. none of us have seen a single episode of the rest of the show and we don’t plan on it. then we might rewatch ‘another country’ together

average amanda young fan: sorry i haven’t been online in 4 weeks i’ve been too busy trying to get the new pig cosmetic in the rift [posted 7 weeks ago]

average mark hoffman fan: [underneath a gifset of costas mandylor in a republican christian propaganda ‘sci-fi’ movie] #hes so fucking hot #i would give anything to put him in a sports bra and make him do jumping jacks in front pf me i would literally do #ANYTHING #i need to make him into a marionett and fist him lol

average daniel rigg fan: Here’s a quick low effort doodle I did of Daniel! I just love him so much ❤️ [a literal masterpiece, the best art you’ve ever seen in your entire life] [3 notes]

average allison kerry fan: i am hardcore attached to ONE ship which is probably either allison/amanda or allison/lindsey and my whole blog is devoted to them. there are dozens of us DOZENS

average lynn denlon fan: okay so i know bahar is a realtor now but in her last instagram post where she’s congratulating her son on some new achievement, both the first and last words in the post have 11 letters, AND there’s an X and an I visible in the background of her post 👀?? is this a reach???

average jeff denlon fan: No seriously let me finish seriously when you compare him to the other shitty men in Saw he’s NOT that b

average david tapp fan: i’m 39k away from publishing my 40k tappsing Everybody Lives AU <3 this is going to be epic [account has been deactivated for an indeterminate amount of time]

average brit stevenson and mallick scott fan: Hey I stayed up making this instead of writing my thesis paper for grad school. Here’s a 30,000 word document about the implications of Brit’s promotion within the Marshford group and how it would lead to her eventual demise and also how she rose to the top in her group. It also delves into her relationship with Mallick, whose existence, I believe, is an obvious literary reference to an ancient Roman play read by only me and three other people currently alive. I translated relevant passages and included them in my work. I got understimulated around page 8 so I did take a break to pierce myself in the same spot that I believe Mallick would have a piercing. If you read my fics on AO3 you will already be familiar with the location.

average peter strahm fan: haha peter does CRACK cocoaine haha i think he sniffeds some drugs! why else would he be so MANIC HYPER CRAZY!!! i love my crazy JUNKIE man LOL get him some andderall STAT!! if hoffman didn’t kill him the SPEED certianly would of! LOL!

average lindsey perez fan: i love lindsey perez i’m such a big fan of the character lindsey perez

average matt gibson fan: i literally would eat garbage out of a dumpster

average ezekiel banks fan: holy shit i just finished spiral what a good movie what the hell!!! what a cool addition to the saw universe! i bet everybody else loves this as much as i do! let me take a big drink of water as i check tumblr dot com to see all the nice things people will have to say about darren lynn bousman’s Spiral

average william schenk fan: my hobbies include: being a fujoshi,

average cecelia pederson fan: [pic of cecelia yanking on the metal loop around her neck and smirking] https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vT3f5IIzt5PG-M7G9_Z-gjY4gZaiUneTdMlYrFAcdBGcJo0-N-RDQcj2JfxOaBTxKa6J_DiDQNgqVpg/pub

average logan jigsaw fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

#the nemesis speaks#i realize im posting this without context but im talking about ingo's eyes again#everyone's talking about how they glow in the dark but nobody mentions my guy's wicked cataracts#what if he is just like 80% blind and just nobody ever mentions it#what if he's never told anyone bc he Forgot people can normally see more#alright im stopping

like does he even have pupils

[redsrooftopprincess]

PST.

You. Hey You.

*tugs on your sleeve like an excited child*

I haz an idea, but only if you want to or like to. Absolutely no pressure, I just want an excuse to talk to a cool tumblr person.

Buuuuuuut I was thinking, you know as one does, about hair of all things. Because I’m a very vain creature like that. Like due to working in a warehouse with 10 hours shifts, I usually keep my hair up in a bun or ponytail to keep it out of my face. Then when I get home, I still have work to do so I put it up in a twist or clip or something. So the first time in a long time, I clocked how long my hair is with it actually down and now it’s like half way down my back!

And I was thinking, how do you think our favorite Bruiser Boi would respond to something like that. Being used to his friend/SO ALWAYS having their hair up to suddenly have it all down for whatever reason? But anyhoo, just a thunk. Also again, I know this sounds cheesy, but I was thinking about you today and I was like “Man. What a cool person. I hope they just have the best Friday ever.”

So here’s to hoping you have the best Friday ever🫂🧡

Hidden Talent

Raphael x Reader

No Warnings, Vanilla Spice🌶️

You met in May, just at the beginning of summer, when the streets were not quite hazy with heat, but hot enough that, between the sweat and the frizz, your thigh length mane had to be contained.

Now halfway through July, you were honestly considering cutting it off. It's becoming more than just a little annoying.

It takes you over an hour every morning to quick and dirty brush - bun - pin, and between the weight of your hair pulling your skin so tight you're shocked you can close your eyes, and the bobby pins stabbing you in the head, you are pretty much over it.

It's been up all day and you've FINALLY made it home. The massive headache pounding in your temples like a god damn marching band has been growing steadily worse since you got on the subway *this morning*, and now it's basically unbearable.

You head straight for your room, tossing a quick wave to April and the boys as they drink coffee in the kitchen before heading out on patrol.

Tossing your bag on the bed, you glare at it when it rolls off the other side and you hear the scattering of small objects. Fuck it. You'd pick it up later. Or tomorrow. Or never.

He hears the sound, and the following exhausted sigh, and slips out of the kitchen as covertly as a giant reptile strapped to the nines can "slip," making his way down the hall. It seems like you had a tough day. If he can at least make you smile before heading out for "garbage duty," he'll already start off having a good night.

He reaches your open doorway and turns, lifting his hand to knock, but pauses once you come into view.

You're back is to the door and you're pulling the last of the bobby pins out of your hair. The bun begins to unravel and you grasp the elastic to rip it out and it straight up breaks.

You don't care. It feels too good to be free, and your eyes fall closed with a sigh.

It tumbles down your back and Raphael's eyes widen. He knew your hair was long, but this takes him completely by surprise. Silk flashes in the lamplight as your hair catches its shine and it cascades down your body to just about mid thigh. He breathes in your scent as it blooms outward. He'd only caught it in glimpses before, almost as tightly contained as your hair, but with your hair now loose you are everywhere and his head is swimming.

As you run your hands through the hair at your scalp to loosen it for the first time in hours, you can't help the almost- moan of relief that escapes you.

Between your beauty and your scent, that sound is nearly his undoing, and he swallows hard.

You sigh as the headache and tension start to dissipate and rub your temples as you open your eyes. You catch his reflection in the small mirror on your desk. He's looking at you with something like awe. He doesnt notice you notice.

You're beautiful. He knows this. It's an objective fact. But beyond that you're funny and smart and so much fun to hang out with. You only met a couple of months ago, but you've starting spending more time together, even on his nights off, and he's not, totally not, even remotely possibly falling for you. Not even a little. Nope.

But holy shit are you beautiful.

"Oh, hey Red," you say, turning around with a smile.

He nearly jumps out of his shell at the sudden attention, and his cheeks darken when he realizes you must have caught him staring.

He perks up, trying to brush it off, "Uh, yeah, hey. You, um..." he clears his throat, "kinda sounded like you had a rough day. Anything I can do?"

You smile softly at him, tucking your hair behind your ear. He follows your hand and tries not to breathe. "Thanks. No. I'll be fine," you chuckle, a gentle pink coloring your cheeks, "just being dramatic."

You sit on the bed beside you, snatching your hair brush off the desk. "You boys heading out soon?" You ask.

"Uh, yeah," he confirms, as you start brushing your hair, "bout ten minutes or so, I guess." The brush is scattering your scent into the air, filling the room with you, and his mouth waters. He clears his throat. "So, uh, something happen today?" He asks, leaning against the door and attempting to appear casual. He feels drunk.

You shrug. "Just the usual. People being people. The ever present headache doesn't help," you say, glaring at the broken elastic on the floor.

"Your hair?" He asks.

You nod, "It'll be too hot to wear my hair comfortably until probably mid-september, and I've about lost my patience with this. I didn't expect summer in New York to be this unbearable." You sigh heavily, working on a particularly stubborn knot, "I don't know, I'm thinking of just chopping it off."

"Don't," He says , so quickly and emphatically that it surprises even him, and he blushes and looks away when your eyes shoot up to look at him. He clears his throat, eyes returning to yours, "what I mean is... you don't have to," he takes a step forward and hesitates, is he really gonna do this...?

...fuck it.

He walks the rest of the way to the bed and gestures to your hair, "Um, may I?" He says, trying not to show how terrified he is right now. What if she thinks it's weird. That *he's* weird. This was a bad idea.

"Sure," you say with a smile, stopping the spiral in it's tracks. You hand him your hairbrush, and turn so that your back is to him. You feel the mattress dip as he sits beside you.

His fingers brush the back of your neck as he lifts your hair, sending a shiver down your spine, and your eyes fall closed as he begins pulling the brush through it. A soft sigh escapes you when he scrapes the brush gently against your scalp.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Worst idea he's ever had. Now he was the one brushing your scent all over him, and the realization that he would be smelling you all night, along with your barely audible sounds of contentment, are affecting him in ways that are not allowed.

He takes a deep breath, swallowing your scent, drinking you like a man on his last dime, gluttonous and pathetic, as he accepts that he will gladly, desperately, keep coming back to this fountain, even though he knows it's killing him. This was a terrible, awful, amazingly wonderful idea. He should really make stupid decisions more often.

Meanwhile, you're trying not to chew a hole through your lip, because every gentle tug, every scrape of the brush, sends ripples through your body that you can feel in your fingertips. It's been a while, okay? To say your love life is non existent would be being kind. You're going over your terribly obnoxious day in your head beat for beat in desperation, trying to think of anything they might draw your attention away from what he's doing because fuck...

It isn't just the sensations. It's him.

It'd be a lie to say you haven't thought about it. Beyond him being so much fun to be around, he was absolutely stunning. He physically and metaphorically should not exist and you mean that in the best way possible. There were a lot of late nights where you found yourself imagining his scales against your bare skin, his deep voice rumbling like thunder in your ear...

He holds your hair gently at the scalp while he works out a particularly stubborn knot, so it doesn't pinch, and as he succeeds, your hair tugs gently as his fingers run through it.

Your scent changes, he thinks, but it's difficult to tell when his face is nigh buried in your hair, and your amber conditioner mixed with your own unique perfume are making his mouth water. He's wrong . He has to be. You couldn't possibly be...

He reaches over to the desk to retrieve an elastic and a few bobby pins and catches your reflection in the mirror. Cheeks pink, eyes closed, lips parted, he had to make a conscious effort not to tighten his hands in your hair. Don't react. It doesn't mean anything. He spots a hair pin on the desk, and grabs that, too.

He returns to his task, twisting and securing your hair in a low bun, just above your hair line. He can see the flush of your shoulders as he lifts your hair and attempts to control his breathing. As he places the last pin, he can't resist running the back of his finger down the back of your neck. He doesn't miss you shiver.

"There," he says, possibly a bit more huskily than he intends to, "how's that feel?"

Miraculously, the weight was still there, but he had twisted it in such a way that it was secure without pulling or pinching. When you turn to the mirror, the lamplight catches the hairpin, the warm glare making it flash like fire. You smile softly, almost in disbelief, and touch your hair gently. You turn to him, speechless.

His blush deepens, "I, uh... I'm pretty good with textiles. Hair ain't that different." His mouth turns up in a nervous smile when your smile of disbelief becomes a grin.

"Well you are just full of surprises, aren't you?" You say, almost breathless.

He blushes, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck, looking away, "I guess..."

"Hey," Leo's head pops in the doorway, "we're heading out, you ready?"

Raph looks at you, and then Leo, and then back at you before clearing his throat and standing up, "uh, Yeah. Yeah, good to go." He shoots you an almost regretful smile.

"I guess that means you'll have to come over tomorrow and teach me how you did it," you say, grinning at him, "Can I say thank you with dinner?"

"Deal," he says, unable to help the grin that lights up his face, "I'll see you tomorrow." You don't miss the look Leo gives the both of you as he makes his way out the door. With one last glance at you, pink still staining your cheeks, Raphael leaves for the night.

You sit on the bed and touch the back of your neck, feeling the ghost of his hands in your hair. Maybe you wouldn't cut it, after all.

......

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

[mandos-mind-trick]

Jesse's Girl

Summary: You're his. He'll go to great lengths to prove it.

Pairing: Jesse x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Public sex, voyeurism, possessive Jesse, fingering, unprotected sex, cockwarming kind of, Jesse is a bit of a dom but not really, author is very sick so this is probably garbage

A/N: Unprompted Jesse filth thanks to my fever. It probably doesn't make any sense but it came to me in a fever dream (lol I'm not funny) and I had to write it. Please forgive me if this is utter nonsense

MASTERLIST

(Gif found on Google cause tumblr sucks)

As soon as he pulls you into his lap you know you’re in dangerous territory. 

Jesse wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge, and the shinies eyeing you from the bar were the next competitors. 

It started when you went to the bar to get the next round of shots. You had situated yourself right in the middle of a group of shinies without even thinking about it. You’d been immediately hit with the cheesy pickup lines and the eyes trailing your form in your tight fitting blue dress. You had politely brushed them off, only staying at the bar long enough to grab the tray of shots before returning to the table with your boys. 

You could feel their eyes the entire way back. 

The whistles hadn’t gone unnoticed when you’d bent down to place the tray on the table. 

As soon as you slid back into the booth, Jesse had pulled you into his lap instead of letting you settle into your spot next to him. You could practically feel the smirk against your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your eyes had gone back to the bar, to the group of shinies still eyeing you bravely. 

Jesse’s chuckle rumbles through your back, his hands splaying across your bare thighs. “What do you say, babe?” He whispers in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt across your entire body. “Why don’t we give them a show that’ll leave them jealous that they can only sit and watch.” 

You bite your lip, grins spreading around the table as Jesse rests his chin on your shoulder once more. You bite your lip as Jesse’s hands trail further up your thighs, spreading them over his own legs. Cool air hits the damp folds between your legs, your panties having somehow been forgotten in your rush to get to the bar. 

Jesse’s calloused fingers trail up your inner thighs, your hands curling around the half empty glass in front of you. You shift just slightly in his lap, feeling the hard bulge under your ass. 

One hand grips your thigh, keeping it draped over his as the other slips between your legs, trailing through your wet folds. Your lips part in a gasp as the rough pads of his fingers ghost over your clit. He leans further over your shoulder, pressing your lips together as he slips a finger into your pussy. He muffles the quiet whine that leaves your lips as he slips a second finger in, curling them to find that spot inside you. 

You jerk in his arms as he finds it, gasping into his mouth as he kisses you. He doesn’t try to hide his actions, nothing subtle about the way his arm moves. If anyone even glanced your way they would know what was happening. 

It’s a risk you’re willing to take. 

Jesse pulls his fingers from your pussy before you can cum, shifting you just enough so he can undo his pants. You lean forward on the table, making eye contact with the shinies at the bar, still gaping at you as the tip of Jesse’s cock prods your entrance. You sink back against him, taking him inside you. Your eyes roll back for effect, lips parting in a breathy moan as he fills you. His hands grip your hips, tugging you back against his chest. 

He presses his lips to yours once more, licking into your mouth as you sit on his cock. He twitches inside you as you squeeze around him, excited by the idea of being fucked in such a public place where anyone could see you. 

“Naughty little thing.” Jesse murmurs against your lips. “But kriff, it’s so hot.” 

You smirk, pressing another kiss to his lips before you lean forward once more, resting your elbows on the table. It pushes your cleavage out more, and you can see a couple of the shinies shift just slightly at the bar. You keep your gaze on them as you slowly begin to rock in Jesse’s lap. There’s no way they can’t tell what’s happening, not with the smirk you know Jesse is giving them. 

Your lips part in a silent moan as Jesse’s fingers slip around to your clit, making your hips jerk just slightly. He pulls his hand back before you can cum, tugging you back against his chest. 

He wraps his arms around your middle, breath fanning against your neck. “I’ll keep you here all night if I have to.” He murmurs in your ear. “Until they finally realize you’re mine.” 

You smirk, tightening around him, making him groan. “Think you can last that long?” 

He gives you a dark look, his smirk widening as his fingers trail down to your clit once more. “I’m not the one you should worry about.” 

Ragu list:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Junk Accounts

"Dude, have you been up all night? Does the computer need a hit of penicillin?" Sam asked as he woke up to the sound of Dean flipping the laptop closed.

"I wasn't looking at porn." Dean said, almost pouting.

"You weren't?"

"Man, I wish I had been. Porn is at least satisfying."

"Okay, so... what were you doing?"

"Maintaining our position."

"What?"

Dean sighed, "Nothing." He got up and headed to the bathroom.

Sam, his curiosity getting the better of him, swung his legs out of bed and grabbed the computer from the small table by the window. As soon as he opened it and the screen woke up, he shook his head.

"Tumblr, Dean? Again? I told you those polls are chaotic garbage."

The sound of Dean taking a leak was loud through the open bathroom door. "Look, those chicks are hot but they don't get to win just because a few people have nothing better to do than cheat." The toilet flushed.

Sam looked at the screen again. "What the hell? 'Ultimate Incest Tournament'? Dean? Why do you even..."

"I don't know, it came up in my For You. Look at the vote tallies for it versus the other polls in the bracket."

Sam scrolled for a moment. "Holy shit. They either really want to win this, although I don't know why anyone would want to win an imaginary incest competition, or..."

"Or they really don't want us to win." Dean came out of the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel. "And seriously, fuck them."

"Wait, so you've been cheat voting on this all night?"

"It ain't cheating as long as everyone's playing by the same rules, Sam." Dean unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the dresser.

"But how do you even... each account can only vote once per poll, right?"

"Junk accounts." Dean's slacks joined his shirt.

Sam squints his eyes at the screen, "huh."

"Have at it, man, I'm beat." he said as he collapsed onto the bed.

"So you've been creating new accounts and voting in a Tumblr poll all night?"

A grunt from deep in the pillows was the only reply.

Obviously deep in thought, Sam started tapping on the keyboard. Several minutes later, he muttered, "There's got to be a way to write a script to automate this..."

~~~

read full fic on AO3

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse pt 13

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :) On AO3

Chapter 13: Just tryin' to kill the pain

Five days earlier

“I asked you a question, man!” yelled Dickchester. Godchester. Eddie didn’t give a flying fuck either way.

He breathed hard and fast through his nostrils. His teeth grinded. Then he turned about and picked up Robin’s rolling pin.

…

Half an hour later, Eddie huddled behind a dumpster in an alleyway, hugging his guitar case to him. He recalled what had happened next in vivid flashes.

His red-hot rage when it grew crystal clear how Godchester had hurt Steve. 

The horror contorting Godchester’s reddened face, when Eddie went for him, rolling pin raised. 

The hint of ‘wtf-am-I-doing?’ when Doreen pawed at his shoulder—“Eddie, no!”—and his grip on the rolling pin faltered.

The flash of Godchester’s cane in the corner of his vision eclipsed his growing doubts. He jerked out of the way. The rolling pin slipped from his clammy grip. He punched the son-of-a-bitch in the face, again and again, his rings acting as knuckle dusters, till the sucker went down.

Doreen gasped. Eddie fled, blindly.

He’d bypassed the elevators, and tore down a stairwell, winding down, down, down. The slap of his sneakers on the steps jarred through his shins. His hand hurt, his arm hurt and his shoulder hurt. He’d left everything! Oh, okay, no. Not everything. He’d gotten his original beloved guitar, handle clutched in his sweaty hand, with no recollection of grabbing the thing. He thought about Steve, and it felt for a flash like he’d left everything else he’d loved in that lousy penthouse.

No. Steve was gone. 

That son-of-bitch lay bleeding on the floor, and Eddie felt… numb.

Kinda sick, actually. He literally hadn’t known he had that in him.

At the bottom of the endless stairwell, he blundered out through a fire-escape. In the passage between the hotel and the next block, he gagged on the stench of stale garbage. Then he reached the sidewalk. The raw horror of his situation slammed home.

People.

Lots of them, walking, talking, shouting, laughing, stepping in and out of stores. Vehicles hooted, scooters droned, and breaks screeched. He’d rooted himself to the spot. He glanced up at the too-wide, way-too-bright sky, and it threatened to cave in on him.

He attempted a step. Another step. Three or four more, then froze up completely. His heart galloped like a Derby champ, and he squeezed his eyes closed. Gaudy sun-blobs spoiled his quest for darkness. Somebody shoved him from behind:

“Watch it, buddy—I’m walking here!”

Eddie shuffled onward. The sweat streamed from his brow, sizzled down the back of his neck. His hair stuck to him. He faintly recalled Henderson had sent a ride for him. No way could he go back to the hotel now.

Shiiiiit. 

I CAN’T DO THIS.

He plunged up the nearest dark alleyway. So, there he was, snivelling behind a dumpster, cradling his bruised knuckles, the flesh swollen around his rings. The sky darkened, the streets quietened slightly, and the rats grew bolder. His thoughts were a scattered mess, and he needed to find Steve. 

No! Again! Terrible idea. Steve is safer with Robin.

Eddie couldn’t even keep himself safe. Couldn’t walk down a street. His heart panged then settled into a dull, gnawing ache.

After dark, he flagged down a ride, and asked for the bus depot. He spent the cash Henderson gave him, to settle any sundries on his final check, on a one-way ticket to Portland. To Wayne.

The Greyhound bus was quiet. Eddie hunkered down at the rear, started thinking clearly again, and he grew sicker than ever. He hated LA. He hated the penthouse he’d escaped from, and he didn’t regret handing that limey son-of-a-bitch his ass. He could never regret it. The world didn’t do justice for folk like him or Steve.

But his dreams of being with Steve—of taking care of Steve—were as long gone as his fortune.

I’m gonna have the cops on my tail playing hunt the freak. Always knew I’d tippy-toe into my old man’s footsteps one day.

He clonked his forehead to his precious guitar case and wept till the stickers smudged and streaked.

...

Five and a half-days later

“How far to the next gas station,” asked Robin. “I need to pee.”

Steve was pretending to be asleep. He cracked an eye open and noticed dawn had broken. Dustin had passed driving duties over to Suzie and now gawked back at Robin, incredulous. 

“We stopped an hour ago,” said Dustin. “How many times do you need to go?”

“As many times as I need! Your chuggy-chuggy Volvo makes me wanna hurl and the I-5 gives me the creeps.”

“How can a road give you the creeps?” asked Nancy.

“Have you any idea how many serial killers operate on this strip of asphalt?” replied Robin. “Too many. They’re literally tag-teaming it, as we drive merrily along… very possibly to our doom.”

“Seriously, Robin?” Steve rubbed his eyes. “You read way too many crime mags.”

“Yeah? Let’s hope your boyfriend doesn’t get his face in one any time soon.”

The loaded silence was like a deep breath before a plunge into a pool. Then Dustin relaunched the defence of Eddie that Steve had caught snatches of all night. Dustin was for sure a loyal buddy. Yeah, he was also a mouthy little shit. Steve warmed to him anyhow.

“I find it difficult to comprehend that Eddie would ever hurt a fly,” concluded Dustin. “I mean, he’s been framed, obviously—this is Eddie !”

“I’m sorry, Dingbats,” said Robin. “Still not in the fan club. He got my best friend arrested. He’s flushed about a billion pounds straight down a gold-plated toilet. He’s wanted by the cops. Even if we find him, how exactly are we gonna get the hairy-ass loser outta that dingy hole?”

“If you’d stop shitting on him for five seconds,” said Dustin, “we might let you in on our plan. Oooh, and here’s a curveball—you could help us! You work at that doily-saturated hovel, right?”

“I hope I still do,” said Robin. “Another reason we need to stop somewhere—I gotta call in sick this morning or I’m gonna be in deeper do-do than Eddie-‘America’s-Sweetheart’-Munson.”

“I’ll pull over at the next opportunity, I promise,” said Suzie, and then, “Nance, you gonna tell them?”

Nancy shrugged. “Sure. So, Dustin got wind that the guy pressing charges against Eddie was a Lord-something.”

“The right-honorable Jacob De la Moer Gurderville-Smythe, aka Lord Godchester,” chipped in Suzie.

“Dickchester,” spat Robin.

Yeah. I know who he was. Steve slid down the seat and pretended to doze off again.

“Nomenclature aside, Godchester’s lawyered-up to his aristocratic ears and bullying the police into a manhunt for Eddie. Contesting the charges against that kinda ammo is gonna be tricky. However, if we could dish some real dirt on a bona-fide Lord and threaten to sell it to a high-profile newspaper, we might get enough leverage for the charges to be dropped. So, Suzie and I did a little undercover espionage—”

“—we pretended we were temping in reception—”

“—and got talking to the staff. Lord Godchester had only been there 48 hours and he'd upset a ton of people—”

“—Lord Gropechester would be a better title.”

Lalalala, not listening.

Steve groaned softly to himself and wilfully blanked their voices out. Robin was right about the chuggy Volvo and its stinky seats. He hadn’t felt carsick like this since he was a kid, and it didn’t help that his stomach was growlingly empty.

Thinking about Eddie, on the other hand, helped slightly.

He clung to memories of those final precious moments in the penthouse. Snuggling on the bed, with his head tucked beneath Eddie’s chin. It hadn’t been about the sex anymore. It’d been about being together, about tentatively learning to trust. About needing each other as bad as the air they breathed. And then, that sweaty hug before they’d parted. 

“I’m crazy about you, Stevie,” Eddie had whispered.

In the past few days, Eddie’s vow had seeped like a healing balm into Steve’s skin. Though Eddie had disappeared without a word, Steve trusted the words Eddie left him with. Even his own arrest hadn’t shaken his faith in Eddie for more than a few, fleeting heartbeats. Now, every sinew in Steve’s being yearned for Eddie.

Screw crazy. I’m in love with you Eddie Munson. And I’m dead worried about you. And your agoro-wotsit. Where the hell are you, you dopey idiot?

As promised, Suzie pulled over at the next gas station. Robin had no sooner peed, than she sought out Steve. He was trying to have a quiet moment with a banana, his prevention meds, and some Cherry Coke. She hooked her arm through his, and urged him toward some trees, which he felt a deep urge to flee into.

“Steve,” she said softly, “are you really not gonna say anything?”

He tugged himself free, nearly choked on his banana. “About what?”

“About Dickchester! Listen, I’ve been down on Eddie, but I’m starting to get it. Dickchester was one of them , right?”

He stared at her, weathering the latest shockwave. If her voice wasn’t so soft, her gaze brimming with concern, it would’ve been easy to yell at her. Now… God, was he gonna flip out again? He felt shaky and drained, as if his days of recovery at her mom’s had never happened.

Worse, Steve was starting to ‘get’ what Eddie had done too.

“Eddie said that somebody from your past had reared their ugly face,” she said. “I gave him an utterly Dickensian rogue’s gallery of suspects, and I guess you told him—"

“I told Eddie squat.” Steve ground his toe into the dirt. Now, he had to think about the scary stuff. Eddie was accused of attacking a man who’d abused him. Eddie could go to jail, and Steve couldn’t handle that.

Robin’s words kept coming: “Listen, Steve. If Nancy can dish some real dirt on that shitbag, she could destroy him. I mean, it’s not only about getting Eddie’s charges dropped. You can't imagine you're the only person he… they … hurt. This could be your chance to get even with some of the bastards who used you when you were paying back your trust fund and your parents’ debts.”

Steve’s face burned. He knew she meant well, that she wanted to help. But his mouth hung open, his throat too dry to speak. Jesus, how could he make her see?

“You had to pay back your trust fund?” asked Suzie, startling Steve so badly his hand flew to his chest. “That’s not right. Look, I only study law at bedtime—I find it profoundly relaxing—but I’m pretty sure trust funds can't be in debt.”

“Yeah well, mine was,” croaked Steve, raw anger forcing his tongue into action. “End of story. Let’s move on.”

It was Dustin’s turn to drive again. Steve secretly prayed that Suzie would take a nap, or at least have other ‘business’ on her mind.

Unfortunately, she was excruciatingly bright-eyed and super-earnest. Before Dustin had shifted into third gear, she renewed her attack: 

“Steve, it’s highly unlikely you would be liable for your parents’ debts. And trust fund investments fundamentally don't work that way. You need a better lawyer. What was your parents’ lawyer’s name?”

The first part of this speech had stressed Steve out. The final question throttled him, mind and body. 

No, no, no, no, no, no. Can’t!

“Stop right there, Miss Shiny-shoes,” snapped Robin. “Can’t you see he doesn’t wanna talk about it?” Steve snorted because it was actually hilarious, given she had been the one ‘poking the grizzly’ five minutes ago. 

Poking the grizzly. Oh God, Eddie, I miss you. I know we’re a pair of sad-sack morons, but how did we screw things up this bad?

Still, Robin had saved him for now. He unleashed a shuddering sigh and prayed the others would reinstate finding Eddie as the hot topic. Then he glanced at Nancy. Her pursed lips alone begged a million questions from him.

He had to deflect, before he blew a gasket. Or did something worse, like crying: “This is doubtless a dumb question. If you guys are loaded, why are you driving to Oregon?”

...

Part 14 on ao3 Part 14 on tumblr

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3