#most of us are just names on a screen to each other

[hom3landr]

Writer’s Block

18+

In which Homelander thoroughly enjoys a quiet night in, his hand, and some ao3.

CW: Selfcest adjacent, Anal play, Masturbation,

“His hand wraps firmly around your throat as he bends you over your desk with a low groan. The hard bulge in his costume grinds against your ass and each filthy thrust causes your hips to bump painfully against the wooden edge. The various knick knacks and office supplies decorating your space rattle with the movement. His hot breath causes you to moan as he whispers into your ear.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Homelander groans low in his throat as he strokes his cock languidly. The leather of the couch that was cool at first is now growing warm from the heat of his body. His cock twitches in his hand and a drop of precum drips down his knuckles onto the cushion. He’s taking it slow tonight. He intends to draw out his pleasure now that he finally has the entire space to himself for the night.

Now that he has a son to raise, he’s had to stop being so bold about where and when he decides to take a load off and relax. Luckily he was able to pawn Ryan off on Victoria and Zoe for a sleepover. Vicky wasn’t happy about the surprise but he isn’t sure why. His son is a fucking delight. He plans to make the most of his free time as he reclines lazily and uses the remote in his free hand to scroll through the fanfiction on the screen.

He had found the stories maudlin and pathetic at first when he first stumbled onto the online community dedicated to writing about him. They made him laugh at how desperate and pathetic they were. Even the ego boost wasn’t enough to erase the disdain towards the nobodies of the world who deigned to think that he would ever want to fuck them. He’s so pristine in the stories. A white knight handsome savior to sweep them away from their problems. If only they knew the real him and not the puppet Vought made him into.

But that was when he had Stormfront on his arm. A perfect goddess to chase away the pangs of loneliness and who any ordinary mud person would pale in comparison to. When he lost her, he began to see the value in such pathetic fantasies. As he lost more and more control over his surroundings, it was comforting to disappear into this place where the world still revolved around him and he could see proof of devotion that wasn’t just the steadily dropping points tacked to his name.

People still wanted him.

And sure, things might be looking up for him now. He’s head of Vought and he finally has his beloved son by his side. He has an army of mindless fans ready to fight for him. But his bed is still cold and a man has needs. There’s an earnest quality to the writing that scratches an itch that isn’t satisfied by the subpar porn Vought churns out. This is personal.

He grips his cock a little firmer and he twitches as he runs his thumb over his sensitive slit. He continues to read.

“He can smell your arousal. It coats the back of his throat and he can taste it on the roof of his mouth.”

Homelander unconsciously licks his lips. It’s not hard for him to conjure up the smell of sex in his mind. His own pleasure is already heady in his own nose. He whines and brings two fingers up to his lips and sucks. The salty tang of his own slick is filthy and his whole body throbs. His hipbones ache as he imagines what it would be like to be bent over, to lose himself to pleasure completely, to have all the worries and concerns knocked out of his brain. He can understand why this fantasy would appeal to someone so insignificant as the author. It’s not a perspective that he would normally ever indulge in but there’s something so tempting about it.

“You struggle to catch your breath and muster any kind of defense as he continues to take up more of your space. One hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, cutting off your airflow even further. He can hear you clench around nothing and a smug smile spreads across his face.”

Still sucking on his fingers, his other hand drops the remote and wraps itself around his neck. He presses down cautiously and the restriction of his own airflow causes a wave of heat to flow through his veins. He bucks up into nothing with a low grunt.

“He presses hot and hungry kisses against your jaw as his free hand grabs the waistband of your work trousers and tugs. The fabric rips easily and you can’t even gasp in surprise as his fingers delve under your underwear to press against your hole.”

Homelander follows suit, taking his spit slick fingers out of his mouth and reaching down to tease around his rim. He gasps, sensitive. He’s no stranger to touching himself here but it’s like a shock every time just how nice it feels. He wonders what the inbred brain dead hicks who worship him would think if they knew their fearless hero liked a little ass play. Would they still grovel? Would they keep him on his pedestal? He laughs bitterly at the irony of his power over people still being reliant on fitting into the narrow insipid boxes they feel like putting him in. He has everything he’s always wanted but he’s still fucking trapped.

Tears prick at his eyes. He’d started this just wanting to feel good but now his stomach is uneasy and his erection is already starting to flag. Even alone, he can’t escape people’s expectations of him. He removes the hand from his throat and wipes at his eyes, self loathing building tight in his chest at how pathetic he is. He can’t even get himself off properly and now he’s crying over it. He grabs the remote and goes to turn off the screen in self pity but his eyes catch the next words.

“Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the situation. Everything is happening so fast and so much.

“Shhhhh” He whispers in your ear. “You might as well just let it happen. Let yourself feel good. It’s not like you have a choice.”

“It’s not like you have a choice.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He can hear his own voice echoing in his head. It’s familiar and he follows where it leads. He brushes reality aside as he allows himself to sink back into the fantasy. He thinks about the ache in his hipbones and a body pressing him down and forcing him to relax. He puts his hand back on his throat, this time pressing harder until it borders on the hint of pain as his head swims. Idly he wonders where this written version of himself came from. How one measly author amidst the rush of saccharine romances managed to capture this raw real side of him.

He opens his eyes and squints so the world is a little fuzzy. The words on the screen blur but are still readable and as long as he has those he can block anything else out.

“Your body goes limp against the desk, becoming little more than a doll for him to play with. He dips his fingers into you, stretching you just enough to make you gasp before pulling back. He’s gentle but inescapable and there’s nothing that you can do except succumb to his touches. You moan pathetically as he finally takes pity on you, two deft fingers finally pressing in fully as they twist and curl until they find the spot that makes your legs tremble and shake.”

He whimpers as his fingers delve inside. It’s been a while since he’s had the opportunity to do this and he’s tight. He huffs and he can feel the bobbing of his adam’s apple against his hand. He can’t move yet as he focuses on relaxing his muscles until he’s no longer at risk of pushing his fingers right back out. The stretch feels good and his cock quickly swells back to its previous hardness. He’s torn between reaching down to stroke himself or staying put and following along with the whims of the story. He crooks his fingers slightly and a strangled yelp leaves his lips as lightning shoots up and down his spine.

“Touch yourself.” Homelander instructs as he continues to scissor his fingers and stretch you out properly. “C’mon, don’t make me do all the work.”

Homelander wastes no time. He’s eager now that he has permission. He wishes that there was a way to keep the pressure on his neck but he’ll have to think of something for next time. His cock throbs under his palm as he begins to stroke himself. The room fills with eager wet sounds and it allows him to sink deeper into the fantasy. He reads on, eager to know what he’ll do next. It baffles him why anyone would want to leave him now that he knows how good being with him feels.

He’d had an opportunity before, with Doppelganger. But it was wrong. It wasn’t him. It was just a pathetic needy imitation. So ready to please that it reeked of desperation. He’d seen something in “his” face that day that turned his stomach. He’d needed it gone.

This is different. This fictional version of him is perfect, strong, determined, and willing to just take what he wants. He’s perfect, like marble.

Homelander moans echo through the penthouse, filling up all the open space and desecrating the ears of the founding fathers. He has no need to be shy now that he has the place to himself again for the night. His cock is leaking all over his hand and dripping down onto the leather. The wet sloppy sounds of him working himself over are practically deafening to his sensitive hearing.

“That’s it, Sweetheart. Doesn’t it feel good to take some initiative. It’s a good thing the rest of the tower doesn’t have my hearing.” He goes quiet for a moment, allowing the sloppy sounds to echo through the empty room. “You would not believe some of the things I’ve heard go on around here. For example, do you remember fucking yourself in the bathroom after I surprised you in the elevator the other day?”

A wave of shame and panic floods through you as the memory of the elevator comes back to you. You were too flustered to say anything then. You had been surprised that he would bother with an elevator at all. The masculine vetiver scent of his cologne was subtle but in the confined space it seemed almost suffocating. You hadn’t said anything and he didn’t bother to even acknowledge your presence. He didn’t even look your way. Still, the strange intensity of the encounter had you running into the empty bathroom to relieve some stress. You wouldn’t have been able to concentrate otherwise.

“Nothing? I could practically smell you during my meeting. I could definitely hear you rubbing away.” He leans down to nip at your ear.”

Homelander briefly lets go of his cock to massage his balls, groaning loudly. He wants to prolong this but he can feel himself reaching the end of his rope. His abdomen is sore from the clenching of his muscles and he can feel his heartbeat in every fiber of his body. His lungs can’t seem to get enough air as he gasps at the wave of arousal.

Something prickles at the back of his brain. The story ignites some synapse that sparks an unimportant memory. It’s not enough to draw him out of his fantasy but somewhere in his hindbrain he logs it.

He imagines someone hearing him right now and his cock twitches. He gives a comforting squeeze as he wiggles the fingers inside himself again.

Fuck

“The combination of his filthy words along with your eager rubbing has you coming undone before he even fucks you. You feel truly visible for the first time.. Homelander saw that embarrassing needy part of you and he wanted it. He tracked you down once the rest of the crime analytics team had left and bent you right over your desk.

“There you go. Doesn’t it feel better to come on my fingers instead of your own?”

FUCK

Homelander’s vision goes red and hot as his fingers hit the spot inside him juuuuuust right. He tenses, entire body locking up, balls tightening, toes curling against the floor. He hangs weightless for a single moment before the storm of pleasure hits like a tidal wave. Hot ropes of come splatter all over his thighs and chest as he frantically strokes himself, milking himself of every last drop of pleasure. He bears down on his hand as he rides himself through it. He can hear his own voice ringing in his ears, the perfect voice of his best self.

“Doesn’t it feel better to come on my fingers instead of your own?”

In his mind he’s bent over the desk with a warm body against his back. His hips are sore but his muscles are pleasantly relaxed for once. He feels safe and protected. A strong hand grips his hip to hold him steady as the other Homelander removes his fingers with a soft wet noise.

He slumps into the leather, pleasantly sated.

Once he’s regained his senses a bit, he reaches for the remote and clicks off the tv. He’ll have to remember to finish the entire fic later when his cock has recovered a bit. The black screen reflects his face and Homelander is surprised to see the pleasure drunk smile on his face. He can’t remember the last time he smiled like this. Probably not since… He quickly shakes his head and shoves all thought of her from his brain. He doesn’t need anyone else to get off. He’s just fine on his own.

The little brain worm from earlier returns now that the room is quiet and distractions are gone. His mind still itches. Homelander clicks the tv back on and scrolls back up with a frown.

Crime analytics?

Most of the fics he reads are mindlessly generic. Most depict a banal office atmosphere when the setting takes place at Vought tower. It’s very easy for him to tell when the author is an outsider. Name dropping a specific department is new. Not to mention, the way the office was described in the beginning was eerily similar to the large room where the crime department is located…eerily similar.

Homelander’s heart pounds as he puts together the pieces. The author works at Vought and he knows in which department. The author has likely crossed paths with him. In fact, Homelander’s stomach tightens as he skims the fic, the author has probably shared an elevator with him.

He checks the upload date.

One week ago…

The unimportant memory floods back.

One week ago, he’d frightened a mousy crime analyst when he’d stopped the elevator for a ride. The little analyst never even looked directly at him. It was typical and not even worth the effort to get annoyed by. The sound of a fluttering heart and the scent of adrenaline were common occurrences no matter where he went. The moment he exited was the moment he’d already begun to forget.

Homelander sighs contentedly as he closes his eyes and lets himself bask in the afterglow. Curiosity sated, he lets his mind wander. Maybe he’ll surprise his little writer tomorrow and let them properly enjoy the fantasy this time. It’s the least he can do.

He reaches down and touches his hip, the phantom soreness still lingering.

After all, he knows just how good it feels to be fucked by him.

[wttcsms]

thinking abt how often tiktok's favorite influencers just get replaced on the daily & also thinking abt a modern retelling of the myth of eros and pysche. thinking about how you're the new fave influencer it girl of the year. you're loved by millions, with so many people looking up to you. you're beautiful and kind and you're living the best life imaginable — on camera, that is. no one knows about your raging insecurities, the way you search for that one negative comment in a sea of thousands of positive ones. you cling to your bubbly, always positive, beautiful inside-and-out persona like a lifeline, and as far as everyone knows, it's 100% authentic. you play the role so well that this former housewife star turned mom-fluencer (who before you was the most influential and beloved influencer) gets a little bit jealous.

the higher you are, the harder you're going to fall. with nearly 9 million followers amassed, a good scandal can ruin your life. she doesn't just want a scandal, though. she wants to destroy you, not just the career you've built up. her son, character, is a tech genius who created the most popular dating app this generation has ever seen. designed to pair you with your "perfect match", the app deserves its name of cupid's arrow. the unique aspect of it? it's a total love is blind concept. the app is designed so that only after a week of consistent communication, only then will users be able to share private details such as numbers or addresses or even photos with each other. a relationship first built on mutual interest and actual conversation!!!!!

anyway, so, she convinces him to have his company reach out to you to do a promotion, offering you a massive check that you can't resist, just to try out the app and make a video on it.

despite your millions of followers, you still feel alone. when offered this sponsorship deal, you take it. not just bc of the money, but because you figure... why not meet your soulmate? maybe it's a sign that true love is only a dm away. you don't know that character is going to be your match. you don't know that he's going to strike up conversation with you and get to know you, and manipulate you into being vulnerable with him. you don't know that the more he talks to you, the more he falls for you, the more he realizes that he can't go through with the original plan, which was to get close enough to you to get dirt on you, and then expose you.

really interested in exploring modern dating here & catfishing but also how we constantly use social media but do we get any real social connections out of it? the idea of falling in love w someone thru a screen isn't anything new, but it's so fun to think about honestly.

[lailols]

Kai's Pretty Girlfriend [2]: Step Two

Hueningkai x Reader, eventual OT5 x Reader [3k ish words]

Warnings: thigh riding, kinda mean dom kai, sub reader, unprotected sex, dub con (Kai does things under the assumption that since the guys like the reader, they won't mind and while he's right, he still doesn't ask for consent), exhibitionism, voyeurism

Movie nights are a bit of a sacred tradition between the six of you. The only reason they work so well with your busy schedules is because you all make an effort to spend time together. It might seem silly, but you all push through fatigue and a promise of a good night sleep if it means you’ll spend even just two hours with each other. So maybe Kai should feel a little more remorseful for tainting them.

It’s for the greater good! He thinks to himself as he lets his hands travel down the front of your body under the blanket covering the two of you. Making sure to stop at your covered tits to give them some love. Pinching and pulling them through your shirt just a bit before traveling lower. You’re ever so pliant for him. He tells himself it’s because you’re such a good girl but he knows it’s probably because of the four guys sitting right next to you.

Well, right next to you is a bit of an exaggeration. You and Kai take the loveseat as the resident love birds while the guys pile onto the couch. They could very well see what’s going on if not for the action movie playing on the TV. Kai should probably know what it is, but he didn’t even bother to pay attention when they explained the two-part series because he knew he’d have more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, you.

He decides he should have some decorum, at least at the start. It’ll be no fun if you’re found out so soon after all. He just lets his hand wander under the blanket and your skirt to check what he already knows. Of course, you’re wet for him. Knowing you, you’ve been wet since you got to the dorm for the movie night. Kai was not secretive about the things he wanted to do to you, making sure to strip you of your panties and work you open for him as soon as he got his hands on you.

But that just makes this all the more fun. He keeps you still on his lap through the first movie but doesn’t let you rest. Instead, he trails his hands up and down your waist, sometimes letting them go up to fondle your tits some more and sometimes letting them go lower fluttering around but never where you need him most.

About halfway through the second movie, he turns you around on his lap, making sure to keep the blanket in place. You go willingly, letting him manhandle you into a different position and just tuck your head onto his shoulder with your face turned out to the TV. No doubt, it's a very uncomfortable position, but you don’t whine or complain. But Kai knows you well enough to know that your silence will go away very soon.

He takes a glance at the guys to see what they’re up to and finds them all glued to the screen. It seems like a fight scene is on and they’re all adamantly watching it. Yeonjun is leaning a bit out of his seat on the couch to see better while Soobin is resting his head on the back of the couch probably fighting sleep. Taehyun and Beomgyu are squished in between the two also fixed on the tv. Kai takes that as being in the clear to continue.

He starts off slow and simply grabs your hips to adjust your position from on his lap to hovering over his thigh. Setting you down and leaning to your ear to whisper, “Go ahead, sweetie. Don’t you wanna get off?”

Your hands twitch where they’re rested between the two of you before moving to his shoulders, squeezing. “But the guys…”

“I don’t think I mentioned them, did I?” He uses his grip to push you down onto his thigh, flexing the muscle. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You were so wet when I checked earlier. I’m not gonna help you out, so get started before I change my mind.”

You mutter something he can’t hear before rolling your hips against him. Shifting your head into his neck to hide your gasp. The rough fabric against your bare cunt doesn’t feel as good as you were hoping but you’re not gonna complain. You start off with a slow movement, too aware of the other people in the room with you.

Your hands flex on Kai's shoulders as you move yourself over his thigh. You quickly soak Kai’s pants which makes you run hot, but it does aid the slide. His flexing every so often also helps, but besides that, he leaves his hands at your hips and doesn't talk to you. It makes you feel so needy and desperate as if he didn't get you like this.

You crave his hands on you. Want his hands to wander down to the crease where your ass meets your thighs and grip. Want him to guide your movements above him like he usually does. Want him to trace your thighs and pinch at your skin while laughing at the tears his touch brings. But since he isn't, it's up to you to bring yourself pleasure, grinding against his thigh while you muffle your sounds against his skin.

You eventually build up a good rhythm that isn’t too noticeable while still working yourself to the edge. But that’s the problem. You’re only on the edge. It feels like you’ve been doing this for so long. Short pants leave your mouth from the effort and you angle your hips just right to rub your clit against his thigh.

But even that doesn’t help much. It feels so good and you know you’ve gotten off with less before, so why is it so hard? You just wanted to come, is that so much to ask? Kai has had you wound up since you walked into the dorm and this could be the sweet relief you needed but of course, it’s not that easy. A grunt of displeasure leaves your lips.

You never liked doing the work, content to let Kai move you as he wishes. Hell, you don’t even like riding him all that much. It doesn’t take much longer before you’re whimpering into his neck and clutching his shoulders, on the verge of tears because your thighs hurt and you’re no closer to coming than you were before all this.

“Kai.” You whisper into his skin. “I can’t. Help me?”

“Of course, you can’t. Dumb thing always needs me to help her out, hm?” Kai makes sure to let out a sigh before moving his hand from your hip to your cunt. He uses two fingers to open your folds and circle your entrance before continuing. “You just can’t help it though, can you? Always need me to make you feel good, right?”

“Need you. Need you.” You agree as you push your hips closer to his hand, urging him to get inside you. “Please. Please? I’ll be good, promise.”

He takes that as the okay to push two fingers into you. You gasp at the intrusion and clench around them. “I can’t help if you do let me in, pretty. I prepped you earlier, loosen up.”

You take a deep breath before relaxing into his hold once again. He mutters a ‘good’ to you before spreading his fingers inside you and thrusting them in and out. You try to keep your sounds down, you really do, but Kai knows how to make you feel good. He knows which parts to prod and press at to have you seeing stars and he doesn’t even try to help you out.

Not even bothering to be nice, instead playing with you in a way that he knows makes you loud. He doesn't bat an eye at how you bite your lip and squeeze his shoulders because he knows you'll be good. Knows you’ll take whatever he gives you and you will, but it’s hard. How can he expect you to be quiet when he’s doing this to you?

“Kai.” You moan out when he pushes his fingers to that spot that makes you feel so so good and grip his shoulders tighter. “I can- you can’t do that.”

“And why not?” He asks as he teases a third finger at your entrance. “I thought you wanted my help, baby. Am I not helping?”

“No, no, you are. Bu-“ You’re cut off by another moan escaping from his movements. “I can’t be quiet like this.”

“You can, baby." He pulls his fingers out to readjust before thrusting three into you with his thumb making a home on your clit. "I know you can be good for me.”

“I can’t.” He presses a kiss to your head, telling you to continue. "Not like this."

“Well, then you’ll just be loud.” His movements get more rough, each time he thrusts his fingers in he spreads them out mapping your core but making sure at least one of them is hitting that spongey spot inside you. “I know that’s what you wanted anyways, hm? Baby needs attention all the time. I’m not enough for you?”

“No!" You jolt at your volume before resting your head further into Kai's neck to continue. "No. Kai- Hyuka that’s not it, please.”

"Well, what do you want, hm?" His free hand travels to your waist and pinches hard making the tears that pooled in your eyes earlier spill over and whimpers leave your mouth. "I'm trying to help you out and all you're doing is complaining."

"Sor- 'm sorry." You cry out. "Just feel so good, you make me feel so good, I can't be quiet."

"My sweet girl." He purrs, bringing his hand from your clit to cradle your face, making sure to smear your wetness on your face. "My poor sweet girl. How could I forget? How dare I forget how dumb you get when I get my hands on you? That's okay, I'll make you listen."

He slides two fingers into your mouth and continues his ministrations below. And this feels good. Oh, it feels amazing, but then you realize that you don’t want to come like this. You tap his shoulder a few times and he slides his fingers out.

“I need you.” You trail your hands down to pull at the hem of his pants. “Please, please?”

“For how worried you were before, it seems like you want them to know how much of a slut you are.” He chances a glance at the guys to find them still watching the movie. Now, whether that’s out of respect or genuine interest is not determined. “Should I just take the blanket off of you? Let them see for real?”

You shake your head but continue pulling on his hemline. "No, 'm just need you. Need you. Please?" And for as hard as Kai can be on you, he really likes to give you what you want. He likes making you feel good. Likes turning you whiney and making you cry and beg for what you want just so he can give you it and so much more. Maybe that’s why you continue to ask for more, knowing whatever you take he returns tenfold.

“Lift up a bit.” You raise onto your knees to give him room to slide his dick out. “Bite my shoulder, sweet thing. So you’re not too loud.”

You were about to retort but when he guides you onto him, you quickly bite down to keep in your sounds. Kai's not helping any with the way he travels his hands up from your hips and to your stomach to press on the bulge he's leaving in your tummy making you choke down a moan.

“This is what you needed, hm?” He says as he picks you up a bit to fix his footing. “Always need me to do all the work, right baby? Pretty thing can’t get off by herself, but that’s okay, I’ll help you out.”

He takes to moving you up and down his cock but never letting you go all the way down so there’s no sound of skin hitting skin. Not that the lack of sound would matter much because you’re not quiet whatsoever. You poor thing, gripping his shoulders so tightly and digging your teeth in so hard but even that isn’t stopping your sounds.

You probably don’t even realize, too caught up in the feeling of wanting a release so desperately that you can’t think of anything else. Kai likes it when you get like this. So lost in the way he makes you feel. It makes him want to devour you but more than that, makes him want to show you off. Show the world how good you are, how sweet you sound.

He looks up to check if the guys are still watching the TV and they are but it’s clear their minds are elsewhere. All of their ears are tinted red and they’re all sitting ramrod straight, adjusting every now and then.

Kai wants to say something, but he didn’t talk to you about how far he could push and, honestly, you’d agree to anything he’d ask of you right now but would it be genuine? Or would you just be agreeing so you could come? He doesn’t have much time to assess before your keening and pulling off his shoulder to beg.

“Kai! ‘m gonna- gonna come.” You choke out as your hands go from his shoulders to his neck, tilting your head up towards him. “Kiss? Please?"

“You never have to ask, love.” He bends down to meet your lips, sliding his tongue into your waiting mouth. “Go ahead and come for me, baby.” He whispers into your lips. “You’ve been so good, you deserve it.” He slams you down onto his lap and moves his hand to your clit, passing over it once, twice, until you’re coming around him.

When you’re finished riding out your high, he pulls himself out of you and hushes your whines with a sweet kiss before he picks you up to pull up his pants and carries you out of the living room. Leaving his friends and group mates to sit in silence (besides the movie credits rolling) with awkward boners and flushes on their faces. When he lays you down on the bed, he kisses you again as he strips you of your clothes.

“Did I do good? Hyuka?” You ask even though he already said it, craving his words.

“So good, baby.” He pulls down his pants and enters you again. “Always so good for me. My perfect little slut, yeah?”

His words may grow more brazen but his thrusts are slow and deep. His hands are sweet as they guide your legs over his shoulders. You love Kai in all of his moods but this one might be your favorite. The way his hands trace your body as if your glass but his mouth runs a mile a minute. Telling you how you were so good and so quiet that he almost thought he wasn’t making you feel good. Saying how he’ll just have to make you scream now to make sure he can still satisfy you.

He continues to ramble as he travels his hands to interlock with yours and bring them above your head. Rocking into you and reaching so far you swear you feel him in your throat, as impossible as that is. It feels so good, he feels so good, you can’t help the little ahs that leave your mouth.

He makes you both reach the edge like that, rambling off about anything and everything before sliding himself out of you and grabbing something to clean you off. Then pulling you into his arms and whispering sweet nothings to you until you fall asleep interlocked together.

<3

Kai expected a talk after you were less than subtle during movie night, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing to be scolded by his friends.

Taehyun, Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu are currently standing in front of the couch where you and Kai are cuddling. Taehyun is standing with his hands in his pockets looking bored, Soobin is fiddling with his hands and looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else, Yeonjun has his arms crossed and is tapping his foot, and Beomgyu looks excited that he isn't currently being scolded.

"Is there anything you guys need?" Kai asks casually as he adjusts your position to sitting up.

"You guys can't sit together for movie nights anymore," Yeonjun says with shockingly little remorse considering the fact that he just ripped Kai's heart out and stomped on it in less than ten words.

"What?"

"Why not?" You and Kai share a look of shock and devastation before turning back to them.

"Well, putting aside the fact that you don't even pretend to pay attention to the movie, you also are very distracting to those of us who do want to watch the movie," Taehyun responds.

"How are we distracting?" Kai asks.

"Y/n doesn't even attempt to be quiet an-" Beomgyu is cut off by your gasp as you turn to Kai.

"You told me I was quiet!" You shoot him a look of pure betrayal that Kai has to look away from in shame.

"Well, maybeee you weren't as quiet as I was telling you," Kai proceeds to defend himself (read: lie through his fucking teeth), "You always try so hard to be good for me, I couldn't handle breaking the truth to you."

You don't spare him another glance before looking at the guys in remorse, "I'm so sorry that someone is a lying asshole, I didn't mean to stop you guys from enjoying movie nights."

"No, y/n, it's not your fault," Soobin stops before you can overthink. "We completely blame Kai. It wasn't even that big of a problem, we really wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t during movie night!”

“You wouldn’t have minded?” You ask surprised. Soobin promptly flushes.

“I- I mean, if you’re comfortable- but like- we don’t mind- I mean I can’t speak for them but-“

“What Soobin is so eloquently saying is that you’re hot y/n,” Beomgyu chimes in, not even flinching at the scorching glare Soobin sends his way. “We’d be crazy to not want to see you fall apart so prettily.”

“Oh.” You’re rendered speechless while Kai struggles to keep his smile at bay. This means Step Two is a success as well! He’s two for two. Damn. He should’ve placed a bet with someone. Or maybe not because when he thinks about it, Step Three needs a bit of revision...

Step Two is done!! Yippie! This took so long because chapter three had me in a chokehold (and I was sick). Love ya! Let me know what you think!

What is Kai's revision to step three? The guys have watched so long, do you think they'll break and start doing something?

[vpyre]

Man. I hate how emotions work. Like I know something is logically perfectly okay and normal and even very good for someone to do, but I still feel hurt by it. And on top of that, it’s pretty hypocritical of me to feel this way cus I do that shit all the time to other people too.

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[martianbees]

I wish that - along with the regular subtitle and captions options, there was a “subtitles for freaks” options that also includes translations of things that appear on screen and annotations that may elaborate on a specific concept that doesn’t exist in another language/culture.

[autumnmatt]

𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.

classification: fluff

warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n

it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.

matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.

all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.

he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.

y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.

she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.

y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.

once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.

“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.

she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.

“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.

“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.

“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.

he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.

you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!

taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash

respond to this post to be apart of my taglist!

[xo100]

Coming home - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: by anon; ‘y/n drunk in a club and calling lando to pick her up 🙈 him being patient and gentle 🫶🏼 thank you!!!’

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2214

୨ৎ

It had been a quiet evening for Lando Norris. The kind of evening he loved, where the house was filled with the gentle hum of the TV, and the warmth of home comforted him after a long day. He’d spent most of his time winding down, his thoughts often drifting to his girlfriend, who had texted him earlier in the day, saying she’d be out with friends tonight.

“You have fun,” he had told her with a smile before she left, his hands gently resting on her hips as he gave her a kiss goodbye.

She never went out too often—mostly a homebody unlike him—so he had encouraged her to enjoy herself, to have a night of fun and laughter, with drinks if she felt like it. He knew she didn’t really drink much, maybe a cocktail here or there, but nothing excessive. She had always been mindful, careful, but tonight seemed a little different.

-

It was around midnight when Lando's phone buzzed.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. He figured it would be one of those casual updates, maybe a quick check-in to let him know she was alright. But when he glanced at the screen, the sight of her name at the top of the message thread made him pause, and the message itself made him frown slightly in confusion.

“I’msogldmkgoig,” the text read. He blinked, squinting at the screen.

Lando tilted his head, trying to decipher the meaning of the garbled message. Was she typing in some kind of code? Then it hit him—a small smile tugged at his lips. She was drunk. Really drunk.

Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he swiped open his phone, his thumbs moving quickly over the screen.

“Hey, you okay? Need me to pick you up?”

It took a minute or two for a response to come in, and when it did, it was no clearer than the first.

“nnoOOO immmmperf!!! ssssgood igot this!!! 😊😊😊”

Lando laughed under his breath, a fond smile settling on his face. He could just imagine her sitting at a table with her friends, holding her phone up way too close to her face, squinting at the keyboard as she tried to string a sentence together. She always got flustered when her texts came out wrong, even more so when she had a bit too much to drink.

He tried calling her, but it rang for a moment before she declined it. Another message popped up.

“ssorryyyyy busyy having fun witt gurls!! 🎉🍹”

Lando raised an eyebrow. He knew her friends, and he had no doubt they were looking after her, but it was clear she was teetering on the edge of tipsy and downright hammered.

A part of him wanted to laugh at the situation, but the protective part of him nudged forward. He’d rather her be home and safe than out and struggling to figure out how to text properly.

After sending her another message asking if she needed help, he waited, watching the dots of her typing bubble appear and disappear before another string of incomprehensible words filled the chat.

Then, finally, she called him.

Her name flashed across the screen, and Lando answered quickly.

“Hiiiii,” she sang into the phone, her voice bright but undeniably slurred.

“Hey, love,” Lando said softly, leaning back on the couch, the smile in his voice impossible to miss. “You doing okay over there?”

There was a brief pause on the other end, a bit of shuffling and background noise as her friends laughed and chatted around her. “Mmmm, I think soooo,” she said, dragging out the words. “But Landoooo, guess what?”

“What?” Lando humored her, knowing she probably had no idea where this conversation was going.

“I miss youuuu,” she said with a giggle, her voice softening with an endearing whine. “Like, really, really miss you.”

Lando’s heart did a little flip, warmth spreading in his chest. “I miss you too,” he replied, his voice dropping into that gentle, affectionate tone he used whenever they were being sweet with each other. “How about I come pick you up, hmm? I think it’s time to get you home.”

There was another pause, and he could hear the muffled sound of her friends in the background again, likely checking in on her. Then she whispered into the phone, as if telling him the world’s biggest secret, “Okay… but don’t tell anyone… I’m a little drunk.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You don’t say.”

“But I’m not… that drunk,” she continued, her words tumbling over each other. “Just… a little.”

“Sure, babe,” Lando said playfully, standing up from the couch and grabbing his keys. “I’ll be there in a bit, alright? Stay with your friends. I’m on my way.”

“‘Kayyy,” she sighed, clearly relieved. “Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the best,” she whispered, her voice filled with a drunken sincerity that made Lando’s chest tighten in the best way.

He grinned, shaking his head again as he headed out the door. “You’re not too bad yourself, love.”

-

The drive to the bar wasn’t long. Lando had been there with her and her friends before, and he knew the route by heart. As he pulled up, his eyes immediately scanned the front of the building, and sure enough, he spotted her standing with a few of her friends near the curb, her posture relaxed but a little wobbly. She was laughing at something one of them had said, her phone clutched in one hand, her jacket loosely draped over her shoulders.

Lando parked and stepped out of the car, his eyes softening as they landed on her. She looked up and saw him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart skip. She immediately broke into a wide, tipsy grin, her eyes sparkling as she waved enthusiastically.

“Landooo!” she called, drawing out his name in that adorable, exaggerated way she always did when she was happy to see him.

He chuckled, making his way over to her, his hands slipping into his pockets as he approached. “Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.

She stumbled slightly as she moved toward him, but he was quick to catch her, his hands gently wrapping around her waist to steady her. “Careful, love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Her arms looped around his neck as she looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy but full of affection. “You came,” she said, her voice softer now, as if the reality of him being there had just hit her.

“Of course I did,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I wasn’t gonna leave you here drunk and texting me gibberish all night.”

She giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I wasn’t texting gibberish!”

Lando raised an eyebrow, pulling out his phone and holding up her messages for her to see. “You sure about that?”

She squinted at the screen, her face scrunching up in concentration before she groaned, burying her face in his chest. “Okay, maybe a little gibberish,” she mumbled.

He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes. “But I was having funnn,” she whined, though the smile tugging at her lips told him she was more than happy to go with him.

“I’m sure you were,” Lando said with a smirk. “But you’ll have more fun when you’re not regretting all those drinks tomorrow.”

She pouted up at him for a moment before her expression softened, her hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. “You’re so good to me,” she whispered, her voice carrying that drunken tenderness again.

Lando’s heart melted at her words, and he leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips brushing against hers with all the love and patience in the world. “Only because you’re worth it,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back slightly. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.”

-

The drive home was quiet, her head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered by. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her eyes soft and full of affection. He’d catch her staring and smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in soothing circles.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” she said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando laughed softly. “Am I?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes drifting shut as she leaned back into the seat. “Really, really cute.”

He shook his head, the fondness in his chest swelling as he stole a glance at her. “You’re something else.”

By the time they got home, she was half-asleep, her body heavy with the exhaustion that always seemed to follow a night of drinking. Lando parked the car and got out, walking over to her side and opening the door. She stirred slightly, her eyes blinking open as he reached out a hand to help her up.

“You okay to walk?” he asked gently.

She nodded, though her movements were slow and sleepy. He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the car as she leaned into him for support. Her head rested against his shoulder, and a small, content sigh escaped her lips as they made their way toward the house.

Lando unlocked the door and led her inside, his grip gentle but firm. She stumbled a little on her way through the doorway, giggling at her own clumsiness.

“You’re like my knight in shining armor,” she slurred playfully, looking up at him with a soft smile as they stood in the entryway. “Except you drive a McLaren instead of a horse.”

Lando chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She nodded, her head resting back on his shoulder as they made their way down the hallway to their bedroom. “It’s totally a compliment,” she mumbled, her voice getting quieter with each word. “You’re perfect.”

They reached the bed, and Lando helped her sit down, carefully slipping off her shoes. “Alright, love,” he said softly, “let's get you into something more comfortable.”

She whined in protest, her arms going limp as she dramatically fell back onto the bed, her legs still dangling off the edge. “But I’m already sooo comfy,” she groaned.

Lando smirked, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered affectionately as he knelt down to take her shoes off. Then he stood, heading to the closet to grab one of his oversized hoodies—one she always liked to wear—and brought it back to her.

With a bit of gentle coaxing, he helped her change out of her clothes, into the soft hoodie that smelled faintly of him. She sighed in contentment, snuggling into the fabric as soon as it was on.

“There you go,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “All cozy.”

She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. “Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

The words came out soft and vulnerable, almost like a confession. Even though she was drunk, there was a deep sincerity in her voice that made his heart ache in the best way. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers.

“I love you too” he murmured, his voice filled with all the affection he’d been holding onto since the moment she had called him. “So much.”

She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” she mumbled, her words slurring together as sleep started to claim her.

Lando stayed there for a moment, just watching her, his heart swelling with warmth. He could see the way her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely as she drifted off to sleep. Even in her drunken state, she was still the girl he adored—the one who made him laugh, who always knew how to make him smile, and who filled his life with more joy than he ever thought possible.

He stood up slowly, making sure she was tucked in before he changed into his own clothes for the night. Sliding into bed next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She instinctively moved toward him, her body curling into his as she sighed in contentment.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he whispered, “Goodnight, love.”

And as she slept peacefully in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full. Because nights like this—where he could be there for her, take care of her, and remind her just how much he loved her—were the ones that made everything worth it.

She might have been a little too drunk tonight, but to Lando, she was perfect in every way. And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet comfort of their home, he knew he wouldn’t trade a single moment of it for the world.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; Hey anon! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love! I’m also currently working on part 3 of baking cookies, coming online soon!

[sillyblues]

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ���𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic

part 2

You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).

But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.

“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…

“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.

“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”

“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.

“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.

.

.

.

“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.

Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.

You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh. 

“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”

“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.

“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you. 

Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.

What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”

“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.

He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear. 

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”

From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.

That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands. 

“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes. 

Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”

“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.

“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.

“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”

He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.

Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?

Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.

No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.

You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—

“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”

“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked. 

Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.

[allurilove]

Yandere Mob Boss x you

*This is inspired by the show called My Sweet Mobster! And this is just a short little drabble! I just quickly wrote this, so if there’s any mistakes, I am probably going to fix it.*

Synopsis: You’re a mommy blogger who shares your life on the internet, and unbeknownst to you, a terrifying and dangerous mob boss starts to watch all of your videos.

He just wanted to wind down for the day. There was nothing more tiring than coercing information out of stubborn little fuckers—people who were a huge threat to his empire—and ending up with nothing when they succumbed to their wounds from hours of torture. He sat in his huge California king bed with the softest sheets known to man, the air conditioning blasting at the perfect temperature for the room, and he scrolled through his YouTube recommendations.

He used the remote to flip through all the channels he had previously watched and liked. But one really caught his interest. He first rolled his eyes when he realized it was one of those mommy “bloggers” who just boasted about how their lives were better than everyone else’s, and how they conveniently got a pass to post the craziest and most intrusive things about their children. Kids getting exploited wasn’t something he wanted to watch, and he was surprised to even see your channel show up on his flat TV screen.

The yandere mob boss mostly watched primitive cooking videos or those men who went out into the wilderness and built houses from the ground up. Although, he was too lazy to click on a button to skip your video, so he decided to give you a shot instead.

You were perfect. Too perfect. It was hard for him not to get sucked in and binge-watch every post you had made. He was absolutely enamored at the sight of you and your adorable children. He barely blinked whenever you came on the screen, and his eyes tried to get a good look and memorize your face completely.

You were just talking about how you liked to make things from scratch, how you kept a little garden in your backyard, and how you got the kids to help you out as a fun activity. He learned that the father of your children was a deadbeat who never wanted to do anything with the kids and left the moment he could. Judging by your frustrated tone in your ‘Get to Know Me’ video, you were upset that he had left you so soon and suddenly. It certainly wasn’t easy for you at first, and you talked about how you wished you had a mentor to help you. Thus, this channel came to be. You wanted to help other women and help all the families that were going through the same thing as you. You were an amazing person, mother, and you gave helpful advice to all the new parents out there.

You were the total opposite of him. You were better.

You wouldn't kill people, you wouldn't threaten and torture them to the brink of death, and you were sickly kind and sweet to everyone. It was nauseating for the man to even think about dealing with hate comments (he got them daily from the news outlet), to edit and figure out what to do for each video, and you started to open his eyes and made him realize that you were practically superwoman.

The yandere mob boss was so grateful that you had posted about a hundred videos on your mommy blog. A hundred videos for him to see a glimpse into your life. There was nothing safe about how you were so open and honest, and certainly, you should have kept your mouth shut about the new place you were about to move into.

For someone who was a YouTuber, you knew nothing about internet safety. He took a mental note of how the interior of your new house looked, and you even showed a bit of the exterior and the neighborhood. He wrote down in his notes to remind himself to look for the exact house on Redfin or Zillow.

The yandere mob boss knew your two children’s names: Lila and Finn. Lila was the youngest of the two; she didn’t look anything like you, which meant she looked like the baby daddy. It was a shame, really, that the cute small girl had to end up with genes from the horrible parent. The eldest stuck to you like glue. He clearly held a candle for his father still, and was having a hard time adjusting to the new lifestyle. Despite that, you continue to push on.

And so did he.

Yandere mob boss binge-watched all of your videos to the point where he knew everything there was to know about you. He knew all the schools you went to, all the partners (you were willing to share) you had previously dated, and he could feel his cold exterior start to crack when he let out a genuine laugh at your witty jokes. He spent hours, weeks, and now months watching your channel flourish and grow.

He smiled when you did. He too let out a sigh of relief after you saved your kid from tripping. He laughed, cried, blushed, and got angry when you did. The expressions and emotions he was feeling were all controlled by your content, and by you personally. You truly had him in the palm of your hand.

[arminsumi]

❀ 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝟐 Gojo Satoru / Geto Suguru

Falling in love despite a language barrier.

𝐂𝐡. 𝟐 | 𝐖𝐜. 𝟐.𝟗𝐤 | ��𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.

結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか？ Yesterday was not a dream after all?

He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.

When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?

今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.

Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.

You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.

"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.

"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."

Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it.

There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.

You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."

Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."

"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.

彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.

もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.

"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.

"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.

"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."

Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.

"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.

"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"

"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.

"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.

Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.

"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.

So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.

Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."

"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.

"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."

"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.

And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.

He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.

"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.

"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.

You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.

Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.

"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.

"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"

"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."

"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"

"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.

"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.

"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."

"How did she scratch you anyways...?"

"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."

You sympathize, "Poor thing."

"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.

"The cat." you lie teasingly.

"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.

You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.

"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.

"No scratches?" Suguru asks.

"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.

"Fuck you, haha."

Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"

"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.

"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"

Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."

"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.

"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."

"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.

"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.

あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.

"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.

"Thanks."

You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.

"You two are cute." Suguru comments.

"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.

"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."

You awe at what he said.

"?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"

Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."

And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.

彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか？それともちょっと多すぎますか？ Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?

（なんてことだ）、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう？ (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?

The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.

But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.

He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.

But you laugh in response to the funny situation.

ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.

"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.

"It's okay." you reply.

The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.

You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.

"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"

"(You're such a virgin.)"

"(Say that again, I dare you.)"

"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"

You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.

"Hi."

"Hi."

The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.

So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.

"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."

"Yes...?"

"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."

"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"

"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.

So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.

"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"

"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"

You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...

(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)

"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"

"(Did the cat scratch her?)"

"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.

Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.

"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.

And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.

彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.

He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.

He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.

"Thank you, Satoru."

His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?

"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."

あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.

A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.

And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.

You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.

And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.

"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.

His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...

"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.

"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."

"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."

"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.

"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[hazelfoureyes]

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 1)

I’m gonna go ahead and apologize right now

Lucifer x FemaleReader x Alastor

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, fem reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, cervix hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main

Minors dni

“Sir.”

Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.

“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”

“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”

But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”

With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”

“Daaad!” She groaned.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 

Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”

Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.

He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your silk sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”

Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.

“Luci.”

Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.

It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.

Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.

You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 

Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.

That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.

No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.

For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.

Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.

“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.

Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.

“You can say no.” You added quickly. 

“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.

“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 

“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.

You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.

“You what now?”

His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 

“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed her.”

If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”

But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 

“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.

You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”

Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.

Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.

“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my girl.’

“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”

He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.

Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”

He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 

Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 

Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 

You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.

Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 

You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”

A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.

Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.

He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. 

Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.

Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.

When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.

One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 

“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.

Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”

“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.

“Three’s a crowd.” 

“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, no preparation, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.

Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 

“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 

Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 

Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.

“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.

Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—

“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?

“See? She can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 

With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 

Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your sopping cunt. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 

When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.

Tempting.

But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 

He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 

Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 

Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 

Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 

Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.

Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your clit with his middle finger. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your cervix with every kiss of his hips. 

You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your jaw lock. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. 

With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed. 

Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 

Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”

With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed walls. 

“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 

Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide between your folds with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 

With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your lips. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 

As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 

Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 

Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling doe. 

 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.

What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?

Your nails cut into his skin, and you were sure you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your hole got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 

Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 

You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 

Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 

As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.

Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.

He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.

Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would wretch shut, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 

It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.

Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.

Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.

The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If she needs you to stop, she’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever she can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your pussy clenched around him earned you a hiss.

He began to move again, the new position causing him to rub against your clit as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 

“Are you sure she isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.

“Nonsense. Can’t you feel her? Or does she just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.

You tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 

Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.

He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before. 

He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were soaking wet, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock threatening to push past your cervix. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 

You could feel him spreading open your womb. The feeling of your cunt pressing down on him from all sides including the front was driving him mad.

You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Screams that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.

A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.

An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.

The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.

As Luci became lost in the sensation of your wet pussy trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.

Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”

Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.

The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”

Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised womb.

Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.

Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.

Second, rage.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 

“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”

Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.

“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.

You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.

Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”

But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”

Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.

There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Okay but real talk the black heart being about Billy actually makes Agathario even more compelling sorry y'all don't have an imagination.

I mean, the implications of Rio not technically being in the coven??? From what I understand, a coven is supposed to be a sisterhood, a group of witches dedicated to each other above all else. Rio is not dedicated to these people. She is not here for them. Rio is death and death has no coven but she still came. She came because Agatha summoned her, not because the coven needed a new green witch. (This also means the coven never actually needed a green witch since I'm presuming Billy isn't one. They didn't need Rio but Agatha called her anyway)

Rio has no loyalty to the other witches, she is there for Agatha and Agatha alone and I am SO hoping they get to show that on screen in some way.

Also the black heart itself isn't a huge plot point or a character moment, but Agatha's reaction to it certainly is. She sees a black heart on a list of names that are supposed to be her coven and she immediately thinks of Rio. Billy presses her about the fourth name and she would rather eat paper than do literally anything normal. Like, we know Agatha is an incredible liar, she should have been able to easily come up with something to tell him but she was so thrown off by the idea that the name might be Rio that the only thing she could think to do was to eat the list. That is insane behavior who cares if it wasn't actually about Rio because Agatha's actions were about her. That tells you infinitely more about them than a list of names.

Also just. Logistically. It makes way more sense like why wouldn't Lilia just write Rio Vidal? I know it works for the drama of it all but I was wondering if they were going to give an in-universe reason or just leave it as a weird plot hole. But who's the one person a witch can't name? Also, Billy told Eddie nothing in his life felt normal until they met, so it makes sense that the symbol she would use to represent him, the most accurate way to refer to Billy, is the affectionate inside joke between him and the only person who makes him feel normal (I could ramble for just as long about how Billy being the black heart makes his character and his relationship with Agatha so much more compelling as well but this is for the Agathario stans and I know y'all are a little traumatized so I'll hold off for now. Also also it makes Mrs. Davis's death even more tragic because there was actually no reason for her to be there, they already had their complete coven)

[gay-dorito-dust]

hopefully tumblr doesnt eat this up again 😭

i was wondering how the batfam would reacted to getting caught watching edits of celebrity!reader

I’m just going to put them in a relationship with Celeb! reader just to make things easier for myself.

Dick doesn’t give a fuck if he’s caught watching edits of you! You’re his spouse of course he’s going to save each and every edit there was of you because it’s be a crime if he didn’t.

He’ll even show you the ones where he thinks you’re the hottest in shamelessly with a smile. He honestly can’t get enough of the edits that his FYP is filled with them and snippets of interviews that transition to the edits as well.

Dick has no shame in being caught because why would he? You deserve to have a thousand of edits in your name and Dick has one too many edits saved in his phone, so much so that your surprised his phone still somehow has storage for the next wave of edits that he’ll be saving should he deem them worthy.

‘Babe come look at this edit of you! You look hot!’ Is the most often used when Dick is showing off an edit of yourself to you in hopes of getting your opinions on it. You don’t mind people making edits, especially didn’t mind them now when Dick would shout ‘my spouse is fucking gorgeous! God damn’ out of seemingly nowhere.

You’re not even surprised when his Lock Screen is a live wallpaper of the edit itself, dick really didn’t have any problems showing you off in any capacity at all.

Jason is either calm with being caught or he’s wanting to strangle Roy because who else is going to rat him out to you about watching edits of you other than him?

‘Chipmunk I can explain-‘ Jason would start.

‘There’s no need, I know you watch edits of me sweetheart there’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.’ You tell him as you cuddle up to his chest. ‘It’s complete fine I’m not going to shame you in watching them, I think it’s flattering that you do.’ You add and Jason couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he held onto you, kissing your forehead.

‘It’s not my fault you’re perfect and the edits happen to capture that beauty sweetheart.’ Jason replied and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him sweetly, not knowing how much more you could possibly love this beautiful man as much as you could, especially when his cheeks flush with a red colour while he scratched his nose sheepishly.

You didn’t mind that he was watching edits and while he was glad about that he was more than certain to watch them elsewhere, more specifically away from Roy before he can rat on him…again.

Tim is terrified the moment you catch him watching edits of you, so much so that he completely forgot to pause the edit as you stare at each other, accompanied by music playing in the background.

It’s hilarious to you but embarrassing to poor Tim who believes that you’d see him as a weirdo for watching them, but all you do is laugh and kiss the side of his head before fiddling his hair affectionately. ‘Watching edits of me are you? And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable Timmy.’ You tease as you kiss his cheek.

‘You’re not weirded out?’ He’d ask, holding his phone to his shirt, not wanting you to know that he was more or less the one making them rather than watching them. He’s literally got several usb drives worth of edit material to make, no joke.

‘Nope just flattered.’ You replied before leaving Tim be before he passes out from embarrassment. Little did you know he’s making about ten more edits as we speak, all of which have to be perfect and he’ll watch them ten times over if he must, for no specific reason at all.

Bruce is just admiring his beautiful/ handsome spouse. That is all.

Alfred would’ve most likely told you that he’s been watching edits of you when you’re away. It’s adorable and you couldn’t help but smile at how your handsome boy has an hidden file on the bar computer dedicated to your edits. (Dick and Tim found it by pure accident and dick couldn’t hope but tell you about it.)

Needless to say you won’t see him watch the edits but you’ll hear from everyone else that he watches them and that about the closest you’ll get to catching him in the act of watching edits honestly. However don’t be surprised when you see a video from Stephanie of her filing Bruce somewhere as he watched the edits of you on the big screen of the bat computer, his eyes filled with pride and awe of his pretty/ charming spouse looking so effortlessly ethereal.

While you might not have caught him in the act yourself, you still found yourself smiling at Bruce smiling up at the edits of you -and sometimes him because you’re a power couple- as a warmth encased your whole being, buts that’s more than enough for you as it can act as your own little secret.

Damian is good at keeping his little secret safe, so you seeing him watch edits of you were slim to none, and even if you did you catch him in the act you would have to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself.

He’s a little embarrassed that you caught him in the act, mainly because he thought he was better than this to let his guard down to be caught in an act like this, then he’ll become irritated at the fact that you had came into his own room just to catch him watching edits of you.

‘You’re watching edits of me.’ You said.

‘And? Did you seriously come into my room to tell me that? What happened to respecting my privacy?’ He retorts, arms cross over his chest. He didn’t care that you caught him, he’s just more or less annoyed with his privacy being violated.

‘Sorry my sweet I should’ve knocked, but you haven’t answered my question.’ You apologised with a little hug and a kiss to his forehead and Damian found himself forgiving you in an instant as he brought you back into a short lived hug, hiding his flustered face in the depths of your neck, tightening his grip on you.

‘Tim hacked my phone.’ He says in response and you just let it slide, knowing that he’ll admit to it sooner or later and not when he’s being cornered into talking. You knew he watched the edits because he’s totally infatuated with his spouse and Damian knew it too, but wouldn’t dare tell you until this moment has passed you both by.

So until then he’ll watch the edits in secret because he can’t get enough of how gorgeous you looked in them.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Angel Calling

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You've formed a friendship with Brooklyn's most fearsome mob boss. But he isn't James Barnes, White Wolf, head of the Barnes Family Crime Syndicate. No. To you, he's just Bucky and he'll be there whenever you call.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky usually doesn't step in when it comes to interrogations but this one was different. Sam and Joaquin managed to find the mole in his organization. Said mole would relay any information about the workings within the Barnes Family to Hydra, sabotaging any efforts for Bucky and his family to continue to reign over Brooklyn.

So things were tense and the mole, his former lawyer, Sitwell, was slumped in a chair, bloodied and bruised.

Bucky had forgone his blazer jacket, the sleeves of his black turtleneck rolled up to his elbows. His pinky ring with his family's sigil on not was caked in blood, a mix of Sitwells and Bucky's, but mainly Sitwells.

The older man sobs, "Please, just kill me," after Bucky lands another blow to his body.

Bucky straightens up, a devilish smirk on his face, "You think I'd make it easy for you after all the shit you pulled? After how well my family and I paid you to help cover up for us? Nah, buddy. This is your own fault. You thought Hydra could save you, but you're just scum to them," Bucky punches the man again, "My family and I were generous to you and this is how you return the favor?!" Another punch to the cheek, blood dripping onto the pavement.

A shrill ringing suddenly echoes within the warehouse and Bucky glares to his men behind him. Joaquin immediately searches the pockets of Bucky's jacket. When he pulls out the phone, he turns it to his boss, "It's her, sir."

Bucky's eyes immediately softens when he sees your name on his screen. He then turns to Sitwell's unconscious body, "Saved by the bell," he murmurs.

Sam tosses Bucky a towel and gives Joaquin a nod. Joaquin accepts the call and puts you on speaker.

"Hey, angel, you okay?"

"...don't say you told me so but-"

"Your car finally die?" Bucky answers with a smirk as he wipes as much blood from his hands as possible.

"...yes."

Bucky snorts, "Where are you?"

"Literally a few blocks away from my apartment, which is the most annoying thing. It couldn't have waited to die after I got home?! Anyway, if you and your guys can help me push the car-"

"Angel, we're not pushing your car down a few blocks. I'll pick you up and have one of my tow guys get your car."

"Bucky," you give him a warning tone.

"Angel," he gives the same energy back.

"It's fine, Bucky," you try to reason with the mob boss even though you know you probably won't win. Bucky is incredibly persuasive.

"I got it handled, angel. Let me do this. I like to take care of my friends." When he says this, Joaquin and Sam give each other a look and Bucky give them a finger. The other two men snicker.

"I'll let you pay half for the repair costs," you compromise.

Bucky scoffs, "Repairs? Nah, angel, we're getting you a new car."

You sigh, and Bucky imagines you shaking your head, "We'll discuss it when you pick me up. I'll send you my location."

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit. Just wait inside your car. Lock the doors and keep that pocket knife I gave you in hand."

"Yes, sir! See you soon. Bye!"

"Bye," Bucky replies and ends the call.

Sam makes kissing noises and Joaquin laughs. Bucky rolls his eyes at the two, "Shut the fuck up." He looks over his shoulder to the still slumped, unconscious Sitwell, "Keep an eye on him. Ask him more questions if or when he wakes. I'm gonna clean up a bit more and head out."

"Sounds good. Say hi to your angel for us!" Joaquin says as Bucky heads to the bathroom to scrub off the remaining blood from his hands.

_________________________

You jolt away when you hear a knock on your window. You see Bucky standing there with a teasing smirk. You roll your eyes and open the door, "You scared me."

"You shouldn't have fallen asleep. Something could've happened to you."

"I was tired from work and you took too long!"

"It took me twenty minutes to get here, angel."

"Well that twenty minutes was the longest twenty minutes of my life!

Bucky playfully rolls his eyes and rests his hands on his hips, "Okay, we going or not? Grab your stuff. I don't want you freezing out here any longer."

You grab your work bag and purse, and hand them to Bucky. He guides you to the passenger seat of his matte black Rolls Royce. He opens the door for you and lets you slip into the car. He hands you your stuff and then shuts the door.

He swiftly goes to the driver's side, getting into the car and starting it. He cranks the heat up all the way. He saw you shivering in your car. As the heat spreads throughout the vehicle, your shivering decreases.

You look to Bucky in appreciation, "Thanks for getting me. No one else was answering since it's late."

He quickly glances at you with a soft grin, "I'll always answer when you call, angel."

A warmth spreads through your chest and you know it's not from the car's heater.

The car ride is short since you only live down the next few blocks. Bucky parks on the street and immediately rushes to your side to help you out of the car. He grabs your bags and follows you to the front door where you punch in your code and the door swings open.

"Come up with me so I can bandage your hands," you point to his right knuckles that are covered in cuts.

"I'll be fine."

"Then at least have a drink with me and we can talk about a new car."

A grin appears on Bucky's face, "I'll humor you into thinking I'm going to let you pay for any portion of your new car."

"I'm not easily swayed, Barnes."

"Don't I know it," Bucky replies as he follows you into the building and towards the elevator. You stand beside each other as the lift reaches to the fifth floor.

In a comfortable silence, Bucky follows you to your apartment. As soon as the door opens, your cat, Willow, gives you scolding meows since it's passed her feeding time.

"I know, honey. I know, I'm sorry!" you rush to grab her food and scoop it into her feeding bowl. She happily scarfs down her food as Bucky bends down, giving soft pets to your cat.

"She's so cute."

"She's a menace, but I love her," you say as you head to the kitchen, "Beer or whiskey?"

"Beer, please!"

You grab a bottle from the fridge and fill a glass of water for yourself. You hand Bucky the bottle as he plops onto your couch.

"So, for the car, I don't need anything fancy or super expensive. Literally just a normal car that runs, has good mileage, and doesn't require a shit ton of gas."

Bucky chuckles as he opens the beer bottle with his metal prosthetic, "I'll take you to a few dealerships tomorrow. You don't work on Thursdays, right?"

You look at him in surprise, "Yeah...you remember my schedule?"

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, "Just in case," he mumbles, sipping from his beer.

"Anyway, yeah, I think it's best you come with me to the dealership anyway. Because sales people will try to get one over me because I'm a woman," you roll your eyes in annoyance.

"Well, all the local places know me so they'll know not to give you a shit deal."

"Sweet," you say in excitement.

Willow, done with her meal, hops onto the couch and onto Bucky's lap. She sniffs him and looks up at him expectantly, giving him a meow.

"She wants you to pet her," you translate for him.

He chuckles, "Well how can I say no to an adorable face like that?" he says, scratching Willow behind the ear, which she loves. She leans into his touch and it melts Bucky's heart.

You snicker, "If only your friends could see you now."

"If you tell any of them this, I will deny everything."

You laugh, "Don't want everyone to know what an absolute softie you are. Bucky?"

"I'm only like this when it comes to you, angel," he says.

"Hmm," is all you respond with. You turn away from Bucky and the air shifts.

Bucky gently picks up Willow up and places her on the floor. He turns his body towards you, "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"You're so confusing, Bucky."

"Huh?"

"Or maybe I'm just stupid. Or both. I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

You let out a deep breath and turn your body to face him, "One moment, I think you're flirting with me and it seems like you like me. But then the next, you keep mentioning how we're friends and you like to treat your friends a certain a way. I just-I dunno. It's hard to process how I'm feeling with how your actions and your words don't match up."

It's true. Bucky has been holding himself back. He does like you. He really does, but he's also scared. You're a civilian, a completely normal person. Whereas he was born and raised in a prominent crime family. He leads a dangerous life and he's scared to get you involved in his shit. But he also loves spending time with you and talking to you, it makes him feel normal.

Bucky runs his fingers through his shoulder length dark brown hair, "You're right. I haven't been very clear on where I stand in this...thing between us. The truth is...I like you. A whole lot, angel. I didn't expect for things to go this way. I didn't expect you to stick around after finding out who I really was, but it's nice being with you. In my crazy hectic world, everything is so loud and busy. But when you, I feel peace and there's silence.

"Truth is, angel, I've fallen for you. I just don't want you to get caught up in my shit. But I also can't seem to stay away from you."

You scoot closer to him, placing your hand on top of his metal one, "I really like you too, Bucky. And I understand where you're coming from. I'll admit that what you do is scary to me, but I also trust you enough to keep me safe."

"So...do you wanna try this out?"

You nod, "Yeah. I do."

"Great," he says breathlessly, eyes darting to your lips, "Can I-"

"Please," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

_________________________

Bucky holds a gun to the man's head, a deadpan expression on his face as the man begs for his life.

"I swear, it was only the one time! I-" his words get cut off as Bucky's phone rings. Bucky looks over his shoulder to see Sam holding up his phone. A picture of you and "My Angel" on the screen. A grin breaks out onto Bucky's face.

He turns to the man, "Enough of this," he pulls the trigger, the man falling back onto the pavement with a bullet in his head.

Bucky walks over to Sam, trading the gun for his phone, "Hello, my beautiful angel."

You giggle, "Hey, Big Man. Just making sure you're coming over for dinner right?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be coming over in an hour and I can help you cook."

"You don't have to help, Bucky."

"I want to."

"Softie."

"Only for you," he replies with a soft grin.

"Alright. I'm gonna start prepping. Say hi to the guys for me. Bye!"

"Will do. See you soon. Bye!"

When Bucky ends the call, he points a finger at Sam and Joaquin, "Not a word!"

The two men laugh as Bucky walks away. He's ready to spend the rest of his night with you, his angel.

[taure-annie]

The Blue Glow

→ premise: What starts as late nights spent helping Paige through heartbreak slowly shifts - until you’re left wondering if friendship was ever the right word. (RoommateAU)

→ word count: 4k

It’s just past two when you hear the key rattle in the front door, followed by the soft creak as it swings open. Paige, your roommate, usually comes home late on Fridays, a little buzzed or maybe high after a night with her teammates or her girlfriend. You’re used to hearing her stumble in, her laughter still lingering from whatever fun she’d been having, always fading into the quiet of the apartment.

You call her name, waiting for her confirmation. She’s the only one with a key, but saying her name and hearing her respond feels safe, like a habit you’ve formed without thinking. Silence. You lean back in your chair, letting your game screen idle as you peer through the small crack in your door.

You wait a moment, letting the silence of the apartment settle around you before it's broken by the unmistakable shuffle of her kicking off her shoes, the soft thud of her door and then steady beat of music seeping from her room.

You turning back to your desktop and unpausing your game. Your fingers move across the key‐ board, killing pixelated monsters and yet still, your mind crawls back to 20 minutes ago, when Paige walked in.

Were you supposed to knock on her door and ask if she was okay? Basic roommate etiquette would assume so, but it's not as though you and Paige were buddy-buddy. Sure, you'd chilled together a few times to catch up on Netflix's latest murder doc and yeah, she'd invited you to one or two of her teammate's afterparties (none of which you'd gone to, instead you offered polite decline that assured she really didn't need to ask you again).

At most, you and Paige were just in each other's orbit. Nothing more than two girls attending the same university who got placed together in an apartment just off-campus.

The clock ticks to 3:15, and finally, the music fades into silence. She’s probably asleep now. You tell yourself to focus on your game, but your gaze drifts to the wall, your thoughts lingering on her room just a few feet away. Honestly, you’re not sure why you’re still awake.

***

You’re unpacking your groceries when you notice her—Paige, sprawled out across the couch like she’s trying to disappear into it. Her hoodie is pulled low over her face, but you can still make out the outline of her eyes, locked on you the moment you glance in her direction.

"You good?" You ask, feeling the need to soften your voice - something in your body tells you to tread carefully.

She yawns, stretches, and when she speaks, her voice is thick with sleep—rougher than usual, like she hasn’t quite woken up. “Yeah, just a bit fucked up.”

There's something in her tone that gives you pause like she's daring you to dig deeper. You hesitate. It sounds bad to say, but you've always liked the unspoken agreement between you two - the comfortable distance, once again, like planets moving in the same orbit but never touching.

You take the bait. "What's up?"

She pushes herself up, so she's now resting on her elbows,  “Ari fucking broke up with me."

The two had seemed to be one of the few couples who could go the distance. In the few games you attended, you'd seen her girlfriend always present, aptly draped in a number 5 jersey titled 'Bueckers'. As far as college relationships went, it seemed like love.

"Oh." It's all you manage to say at first, unsure of how to respond. Were you supposed to hug her? 

Paige drops back onto the couch, covering her face with her hands. "Yeah, oh."

"And it's final?" You ask, "Cause, it's never really over, over. It's probably -"

"She blocked me," she cuts in, still deep within the recesses of her hoodie. "She probably blocked me the moment I left her place ... I've messaged her and called her but it goes straight to green or voice mail."

You nod, once again unsure of what to say next. You'd don't have to think because Paige drops in again. She had a one-of-a-kind skill of unknowingly being able to fill in silences.

"It's not like I cheated or she cheated," you hear the emotions flooding back into her voice - it's not sadness, well it probably is but it's wrapped up in anger and disbelief. "Which spins me because it's not like we were in a bad spot - okay yeah, I wouldn't respond sometimes, but that's normal, sometimes I'm genuinely tired from training!"

"Maybe she's stressed too and it's all a bit too much to deal with," You say.

She throws you a quick look, something between betrayal and you're not helping. It's fast, and she cools her features back to normal.

"- Not that I'm saying it's a good excuse," you counter, "But, it's something to consider. Did she actually say why?"

"Something about I'm not present. It's bullshit," she sighs.

You want to say something comforting, anything, but everything that comes to mind feels hollow. Besides, it's not like whatever you could say could put a bandage over a 2 year relationship ending.

She sits up again, her hoodie falling back to it's rightful face. She looks around the room, her eyes itching for something to distract her from whatever uncomfortable feelings she can feel rising. Her eyes fall on her set of keys, the original red fob you'd both received on move-in day had long been overtaken by numerous keychains and fabric bracelets - even a heart picture frame.

"Hey, do you want to do something?" She asks, "Get out of here for a bit?"

At the tip of your tongue is some vague excuse about how you really need to cook right now, but before it can come out, she speaks again.

"Please - I really need to step out for a bit." Her voice is soft, just about holding back a crack.

You're not a monster so of course, you nod and say sure. You don't ask where to until you're following her long strides down the hall and into the low-lit car park. The night feels colder than usual and your bare feet in slides feel anything but appropriate for the weather.

An orange glow from a stray streetlight casts a small tinge of light on her face as she unlocks the door to her car. "I was thinking of going to the outdoor court. You know, the one near the park? It's just a short drive. I could really use a change of scenery, and maybe shooting around would help clear my head .... that cool?"

"Yeah," you say, because what else could you say? "That’s cool."

How cliche you think - a basketball player needing to shoot hops to clear their head. 

The drive is quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. Paige keeps her eyes on the road, and the tension in her shoulders is palpable. You can't help but think this is how she looks when she's on the bench, (playing the game in her mind, sizing up the opposition and just yearning to get back in).

Connecticut's lights blur past as you make your way out of the downtown area, the campus fading away as she turns into a quieter, more residential neighbourhood. The basketball court comes into view, illuminated by a few scattered streetlights and a single overhead light, casting a gentle glow over the cracked asphalt and faded court markings.

She pulls into the nearest parking bay, reversing in with ease, her arm draping over your headrest as she checks the mirror. It's then that you wonder how many times she's done this exact move with her ex. You imagine her ex sitting where you are now, lips fresh with a kiss and the seat shaped by her form.

A whole two years, you think. No wonder she was going stair-crazy.

You're now out of the car, rocking on the back of your feet as Paige gets her duffle bag out of the car. It's at that point when she finally asks you about your day.

You shrug, "It's been ight, nothing much to be fair. Just trying to get my head around ... we've got a new TA and the bitch marks hard as hell."

She chuckles in response, "Damn, tough one. You do something with economics, right?"

"Yeah, something about economics. Not my first choice but it's gonna do the job," you reply trailing behind her longer strides as she leads you both into the empty court.

"Economics. Get the job done?" she repeats with a playful scoff, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Can't tell if you're being humble or—"

"Not humble," you interject, "It's an ends to means."

She unzips her duffle bag and brings out her ball and bounces it a few times, the rhythmic thud echoing softly in the quiet night. "What's the end goal then?"

You're shrugging as you go to take your place on the edge of the court, watching as Paige moves around and seemingly becomes one with the court. (something about seeing her in her natural ele‐ ment) "Probably some cushy consulting job. I'm not gonna lie, I've got no idea but I've lowkey liked the subject all through school, it's just made sense to do it."

Paige dribbles the ball a few times, then takes a shot. The ball cuts through the air and swishes through the hoop. light work.

"I'm guessing you've always known what you wanted to do," you continue.

She nods, bounces the ball again, but this her feet and body moving across the court as though she's playing the last two minutes of a game. "Yup! It's always been basketball. From elementary, middle school and high school. Nothing but ball." she punctuates her last line with a throw.

 "Wish that were me!" you say.

She looks over at you, the ball now finding itself passing from hand to hand. "You wanted to play ball?"

It's your turn to scoff, "No, I'm talking about the whole knowing what you wanted to do from the get go."

Paige pauses mid-dribble, her eyes narrowing playfully as she studies you. "Yeah, I get that. Not everyone figures it out early. But, you know, it's not like it's been easy. Just because I knew doesn't mean it wasn't a grind."

She takes another shot, and the ball glides through the net with a satisfying swish. As she retrieves it, she adds, "There's a lot of pressure, too. Once you say 'this is it,' everyone expects you to stick with it, no matter what."

You watch as she moves across the court, her pace slower now, more thoughtful. "I guess I just got lucky," she continues. "Or maybe I was stubborn. It's hard to tell sometimes."

"I guess that makes you one of the few," you say, leaning back against the fence, watching her with a mix of admiration and something else - something you can't quite put your finger on. Is this what her fans felt? It always spun you that she had fans. Fans. Would they be jealous right now? "Most people I know are still figuring it out, including me."

Paige stops dribbling and looks at you, her expression softening. "You've got time," she says, her voice losing some of its earlier intensity. "There's no rush to have it all figured out. Sometimes, the best things come when you least expect them."

She tosses the ball to you, and it lands in your hands with a gentle thud. You can feel the worn leather under your fingers, still warm from her grip. For a moment, you're both silent, the weight of her words hanging in the cool night air.

"Maybe," you say quietly, the ball feeling heavier and heavier in your hands. "But sometimes it feels like everyone else is racing ahead while I'm stuck at the start line."

"Play with me," she says, gesturing you over.

You look down at the ball and then back to her, "You're a D1 athlete. You're just gonna show me up plus I don't even know how to shoot."

"Come on, I'll teach you," There's a playful glint in her eyes. "It'll make me like five percent less sad."

You hesitate, but her enthusiasm is contagious. She hands the ball back to you and steps behind, lightly adjusting your stance. "Feet shoulder-width apart, knees bent," she instructs, her hands guiding yours on the ball. "Use your legs for power, wrist for control."

You try to follow her lead, feeling her breath close as she directs your movements. "And when you shoot, remember, follow through, like you're reaching into a cookie jar."

You chuckle at the analogy and take a shot. The ball bounces off the rim, and Paige claps. "Not bad. Let's go again."

Paige steps in front of you, her tone shifting slightly as she moves into coach mode. You can tell she's probably coached some little league somewhere here in Connecticut or wherever her home state was - she’d mentioned it numerous times but you’d forgotten. "Alright, keep your elbow in and focus on the backboard," she says, her hands demonstrating the movement. "And don't forget, it's all about the follow through."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Alright, coach. I got it."

"It's Coach P," She smirks, her eyes twinkling. "Just trying to make you a baller." You take another shot, and this time, the ball swishes through the net. Paige cheers, giving you a high five. "There it is! You're a natural."

"Light work" you say with a grin. It's anything but.

Paige bumps you lightly with her shoulder. "Not bad at all. But next time, we're working on your dribbling cause that shit was shocking."

***

Nights at the court, which you’d now come to know was actually called St Bernard’s Court, became routine much like when you’d call her name when she’d come back to the apartment.

You’d gotten used to settling into the passenger seat of her car, the familiar hum of the engine surrounding you as she drove, her hands gripping the wheel with that same steady determination. Conversations, once filled with awkward pauses and small talk, now flowed effortlessly. They were the kind of talks that never seemed to end - about everything and nothing, the mundane details of life at uni, complaints about bad food at the cafeteria, or her latest training session. It was simple.

Sometimes, she’d give up her dictator-like hold over the music and let your playlists take over, though more often than not, you let hers play on. You never minded; there was something comforting about the predictable beats of her curated selections. Her taste was always a little sharper, more nuanced than yours, and you found yourself adding some of songs to your liked list when you’d gotten back to the safety of your own room.

Sometimes, after an hour of shooting around, you’d both end up on the concrete, sitting against the low bleachers, legs stretched out before you, talking about whatever came to mind and letting the cold settle deep into your skin. But more often than not, the conversation would shift to her ex. It had become a quiet pattern: Paige would talk about her like it was a distant, painful memory she was still learning how to deal with.

She’d mention her in passing, her tone casual at first, as though it didn’t sting anymore.

It reminded you like she was just like any other girl despite the fame. Unable to resist feigning indifference to hurt - so you didn’t judge because you’d done it over and over.

“I don’t even know why she said that,” Paige would say, tossing the ball back into her hands, eyes focused on something far off. “I never meant to be distant. You know how it is; practice, school, games... life’s a lot.” She’d sigh, running a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

And then, almost like she couldn’t help herself, the bitterness would slip in. “She made it sound like I didn’t care at all,” Paige muttered, kicking the ball across the court. “Like it was all about me, me, me.” Her voice softened, the edges raw, the anger melting into something unspoken and lingering. “She didn’t even give me a chance to explain, to fix things. Not that it matters now.”

You listened. Not to solve anything, not to offer some platitude about how she’d be better off. You listened because, in those quiet moments, it felt like her words were a way of processing, a way to let the weight of everything settle into something less heavy.

Her ex wasn’t just a past relationship, not just a name you’d heard murmured in the back of conversations. She was a part of Paige’s present, even if it was an unwelcome one, lingering in the way Paige looked at the court sometimes, or the way she pulled away when you tried to get too close. Her ex was a shadow that loomed over your conversations, her absence filling the spaces that Paige didn’t want to admit she missed.

“You know, I thought she was the one,” Paige would often say with a dry laugh, picking at the fabric of her hoodie. “Stupid, huh?” She’d shake her head like it was all so ridiculous now. But the way she’d say it, softly, almost tenderly, like she was still trying to convince herself.

And then, just as quickly, she’d pull herself out of it, focusing on something else. “Anyway, I’m not thinking about her tonight,” she’d say, standing up and grabbing the ball.

At some point she’d move on. Stop needing the nights at the court and you’d be proud because your friend (it felt weird to call her a friend thinking about the times you’d dodged her invitations for connection, but things were different now) had moved on.

***

The nights eventually come to an end.

They’re stopped when you’re sitting in yours and Paige’s shared living room, letting the tv play in the background as you listlessly scroll on your phone.

The door to her room is closed but you can hear the familiar music playing through it. She emerges, her face flushed and eyes bright - frantic even.

“Yo ... Guess who just called me?” She announces, taking what felt like her first breath in hours.

You look up, the question hanging in the air between you. Your thumb hovers over your phone’s screen, trying to gauge her excitement.

Paige’s gaze is intense, a slight nervous energy vibrating beneath her words. She doesn’t wait for you to guess.

“Ari,” she says, her voice a little softer now, like she’s unsure what to feel about it. “She called me.” The words hit you unexpectedly, like a slow tide pulling at your feet. A small knot forms in your stomach, not because you’re unhappy for her, but because you weren’t prepared for this.

“Oh shit,” you manage to say, trying to push away the strange, unexpected sensation that’s fluttered inside you.

“She said sorry. She said she made a mistake. Fuck, I... I don’t know even know what think.”

You lean forward a little, trying to sound reassuring. “I mean, that’s a good sign, right? She’s reaching out.”

Paige exhales a short laugh, glancing down at her hands before looking back up at you. “I guess? But fuck, it just feels... messy.”

You nod, understanding the weight of her uncertainty. You’ve seen how much this relationship meant to her, and it’s clear she’s torn.

“You wanna talk about it?” you ask.

She shakes her head, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Not yet, I think. I just... I need to think. It’s all a bit much, you know?”

The room goes silent, save for the faint hum of the TV in the background.

For a moment, you sit in the quiet, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. And maybe it’s just you, or maybe it’s just the way Paige is looking at you now, but you sense that something has shifted—ever so slightly, but undeniably.

You’re still not sure what that means yet, or if it means anything at all. But for now, you don’t push.

She sighs and falls back onto the couch, closing her eyes. “I’ll figure it out,” she says softly, more to herself than to you but you know she’s already made her choice. 

You lean back, turning your attention back to your phone, but there’s an odd feeling in your chest that refuses to settle. For a moment, you wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently, if she’d never gotten that call. But before you can think too much about it, Paige shifts beside you, her presence pulling you back down to earth.

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

You smile, almost relieved that the tension has eased, even if only for now. “Anytime.”

The night stretches on, the air between you both comfortable again. And yet, you can’t help but wonder why you feel torn. Why aren’t you bubbling with happiness, like how you’d reacted when Zen had called you in senior year to say she and Trevor had gotten back together.

Eventually, you leave the couch, muttering an excuse about needing to get back to studying.

 Ari comes back into the fold of life at yours and Paige’s apartment like she’d never left.

The songs that used to fill Paige’s room—those soft, sad, contemplative ones—shift back to some‐ thing lighter, more upbeat. Her shoes reappear, scattered carelessly by the door, mingling with Paige’s own, like they always belonged together. And just like that, you go back to being good roommates.

That doesn’t hurt. It’s respectful - because who’d let their girlfriend spend nights at the basketball court together? It makes sense.

It only hurts when you come back to the apartment and see them on the couch. The lights dimmed, a fluffy blanket over their legs and a Christmas movie playing.

The first time it happens, you’re awkward. Painfully awkward. Your body not knowing how to react for the first time to something you’d seen countless times before.

You hesitate in the doorway, suddenly unsure of how to move, unsure of what to say. The air between the three of you feels thicker, heavier than it ever has before. You wish you could say something light, make a joke.

They don’t even notice at first - Paige’s attention is wholly focused on the TV screen, her hand absentmindedly brushing through her girlfriend’s hair. You feel like you’re not even supposed to be here, even though it’s your apartment too.

Eventually, though, Paige looks up, her eyes meeting yours, and for a second, the warmth in them falters. She smiles, but it’s tight, apologetic.

“Hey,” she says, her voice a little too bright, a little too forced. “You’re back. We were just watching this cheesy Christmas movie. Wanna join?”

The offer is there, hanging in the air between you, but the tension is palpable. You force a smile, shaking your head quickly.

“Nah, it’s fine,” your voice comes out more strained than you’d intended. “I was just coming in to ... grab something.”

You spend the rest of the night at Zen’s.

“So bitch, what the hell is up with you?” Zen asks. her gaze sharp as she watches you.

You blink, focusing back on her, the buzz of the rosé clouding your thoughts. “Nothing, I’m fine,” you reply, maybe a little too quickly.

“Sure ... sure you are,” she says with a knowing look, before taking a long sip from her glass, then a pause. “Dude, you’ve literally been distracted all night. Moping around everywhere.”

You hesitate, a little caught off guard. You’ve told Zen about Paige, from the odd first meeting to playing basketball together and to the events which took place hours ago.

“You sure you’re okay with them... back together?” Zen continues, her voice quieter, but there’s a softness to it now. She’s not trying to push, just letting the question sit there.

The idea that maybe everyone sees what you’re trying to hide - maybe even Paige  - that part makes you feel sick.

You take another sip of your wine, the sweet sharpness of it doing nothing to dull the growing ache in your chest.

“Yeah,” you say again, but it’s not convincing. Not to Zen. Not to yourself.

Zen’s eyes soften, and for a moment, she doesn’t look at you like she’s waiting for a response. She looks at you like she already knows the answer. You know it. Damn.

***

A/N: My first Paige fic! let me know what you think and if I should continue ... I haven't written fanfiction in years, which is a shame because I used really enjoy the fic writing/reading community. I've literally had this blog on the backburner for the last 3 or so years just waiting to find the right thing to write about and here it is ... I think?