#or turn off noise cancelling at least

[kokikwii]

Does anyone have wireless earbud recommendations

[nexus-nebulae]

im so determined to not replace things until i absolutely have to and my poor headphones are hanging on by a thread at this point. but they still work!

[inkskinned]

hey btw if you're in the USA at  2:20 p.m. ET on Wednesday, Oct. 4, they're testing the emergency broadcast system. your phone is probably going to make a really loud noise, even if it's on silent. there's a backup date on the 11th if they need to postpone it.

if you're not in a safe situation and have an extra phone, you should turn that phone completely off beforehand.

additionally, if you're like me, and are easily startled; i recommend treating it like a party. have a countdown or something. be surrounded by your loved ones. take the actions you personally need to take to make yourself safe.

i have already seen mockery towards any person who feels nervous about this. for the record, it completely, completely valid to have "emergency broadcast sounds" be an anxiety trigger. do not let other people make fun of you for that. emergency sounds are legitimately engineered to make us take action; those of us with high levels of anxiety and/or neurodivergence are already pre-disposed to have a Bad Time. sometimes it is best to acknowledge that the situation will be triggering for some, and to prepare for that; rather than just saying "well that's stupid, it's just a test."

"loud scary sound time" isn't like, my favorite thing, but we can at least try to prevent some additional anxiety by preparing for it. maybe get yourself a cake? noise cancelling headphones? the new hozier album? whatever helps. love u, hope you're okay. we are gonna ride it out together.

[cursingtoji]

inspired by this gorgeous fanart

“mm good morning” you smile greeting choso, even before you open your eyes.

his long hair tickles your chest as he leaves sweet kisses on your neck. you extend your arms to hug his shoulders to which he hisses.

“sorry, angel, but your acrylics were particularly sharp last night” he apologizes by giving your cheek a long wet kiss as you move his hair to the side and try to look over his shoulder to see the damage you caused on his back.

“cho~” you whine sadly, not realizing how deep you went until you saw the dark red marks on his pale skin, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“i liked it” he whispers, “but it’ll sting for a little while.”

“how can i make it up to you?” you wrap your legs around him, bringing him closer.

“by joining me in the shower” he pecks your lips, chocolate eyes lovely gazing at you with some black eyeliner smeared underneath.

“let’s go then” you kiss him back taking your time to lightly suck his bottom lip.

“actually” he sits up with you on his lap, “gotta make yuuji breakfast first, so… afterwards?” he asks insecure if you’re willing to stay that long.

and how can you say no when he looks at you like that?

choso gives you a clean boxer and one of his black worn out band shirts before you use his bathroom to remove the remaining of your makeup and brush your teeth.

when you go down stairs choso is scrambling some eggs with nothing but grey sweats on, you shouldn’t tease yourself by approaching him… but he looks so sexy by the stove like that, messy hair down from the usual buns, scratch marks on his back and clearly no underwear.

choso says your name in a warning tone when you kiss the space between his shoulder blades, a sneaky hand goes to his front, feeling his abdomen contract under your palm.

“i know…” you retract your hand before things escalate and yuuji catches you in a compromising situation… again.

last time yuuji wasn’t even supposed to be home, so you two took the liberty of fucking on the couch and almost breaking a limb when the pink haired boy arrived from the party that ended up sooner than expected covering his eyes and shouting apologies while choso cussed him and you tried to calm him down and cover your chest at the same time.

well at least it was a funny story to tell your friends the next day.

choso calls for yuuji before turning off the stove and adjusting his pants. you put some coffee for the two of you then take a seat at the table.

he’s still looking for something inside the fridge when yuuji arrives, slapping a hand on his brother’s bare back.

“oh hey, good morning” he greets you with a smile while choso softly curses in the back.

“morning yuuji” you smile back, rubbing a hand on choso’s arm as he sits down slowly next to you trying to not touch his now very sore back on the chair.

“so…” yuuji takes his plate of eggs and juice then joins you at the table, “who’s paying for my noise cancelling headphones?”

[wheneverfeasible]

🧠🪱Wriggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thanks for the tag @stervrucht!

So I was literally just thinking about Sugar Daddy Steddie with rockstar Eddie, coincidentally enough…

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

Okay so get this. Eddie Munson is some fucking metal legend. Corroded Coffin made it big, right? Right out of high school some scout saw them playing and swooped them up immediately, and before you knew it they were household names. Even people who don’t listen to metal know who they are.

And look, Steve Harrington? Metal is so not his scene. That much is obvious with his striped polos and overly large noise cancelling headphones, but he’s there in the crowd, front row, with a pack of teenagers scampering about. Obviously not his own, but he’s watching them, a glorified babysitter. He looks kind of bitchy, but the occasional fond smile settles over his lips as he takes in the lot who are having the time of their lives.

They all have backstage passes and are there for Dustin’s birthday because Corroded Coffin is his all-time favorite band and he’s always wanted to meet the guy he idol worships. They go backstage, meet the band, and it’s great. Fantastic even. The band is a lot more down to earth than Steve had been expecting, and there’s no naked ladies or drugs in obvious places, so he decides maybe they aren’t too terrible.

Except the frontman keeps hitting on Steve.

At first it was startling, because Steve isn’t some cheap whore (no hate to actual cheap whores, Steve is 100% sex work positive, but he’s there as a babysitter), but Eddie doesn’t spend the whole time hitting on Steve. He actually spends the majority of it talking to Dustin and the others, and he gives way more free shit to the teens than was agreed upon with the backstage passes, and he and the rest of the band sign anything and everything the teens want.

(Eddie also offers to sign Steve’s tits, which gets him a flat glare.)

And that should be it when they leave. Except Eddie slips Steve his number. For when he’s not acting a babysitter.

And that’s the thing. When Steve isn’t in babysitter mode? Fuck. Eddie Munson could get it.

Steve might not be a whore, but he is a bit of a slut. And Eddie had been far more charming that he let it be revealed, not least of which being because of how he handled Dustin and the others, especially sweet El. He’d absolutely beamed when she called his outfit “bitchin’” and there was no artifice there.

Now, Steve wasn’t some groupie, but…he wasn’t opposed to hooking up with a hot rockstar in a band he couldn’t really care about if it got him some good dick.

And good dick he gets. But first, Eddie actually takes him out, taking him out to a really nice and fancy restaurant, despite Steve not dressing for the occasion expecting this to be a hit-it-and-quit-it situation, but Eddie pays off the staff to look the other way. After all, Eddie’s not really dressed all that appropriately either.

Then Eddie takes him for an honest-to-god moonlit carriage ride around the park, complete with flowers and cheesy romantic music. Steve would like to say he was unaffected, but it really did it for him. He was a romantic sap but he was used to being the one always having to be the giver, never the receiver. It was…nice. And sweet, because god, Eddie Munson was secretly a sweetheart when you got him alone.

And then, after the sweet and romantic date, the two of them have the most disrespectful sex of Steve’s life.

He can’t get enough of it.

He knows what this is, however. He knows someone like Eddie Munson probably does this every tour, picking up some random person and wining and dining them and then teaching them things that would make the Kama Sutra blush.

Except, when he sneaks out Eddie’s room in the hotel penthouse in the morning, bruised and rumpled in all the right ways, the rest of the band lounging in the sitting room are as surprised to see him as he is to see them. Because, it turns out, apparently Eddie doesn’t do this. At least not to the extent he showed Steve.

No one was ever asked to stay until morning, at least.

But Steve has to go home, and he thinks that’s it. But then Eddie comes out and asks for a second date when he tries to leave. Offers more backstage passes to the next show for the kids, and Steve is hesitant to say yes, and that’s when Eddie hits him with another surprise.

Eddie says that he doesn’t care that Steve is a babysitter or a nanny or whatever, he isn’t doing this out of pity over Steve’s financial issues, which he accompanies with a slight tug at the worn and slightly frayed edges of Steve’s polo. He says that he just wants to treat Steve right because Steve deserves it. That he wants to buy him pretty things and shower him with whatever he wants. Wants to keep having the sweetest dates with the most disrespectful sex with him.

And Steve…well. Steve is stumped.

Sure, he’s wearing old clothes, but he thought he was just having a dick appointment. And yeah, he was a babysitter, but the teens were actually weirdly his friends despite the age differences, not to mention many were the younger siblings of his other, more age appropriate friends. And yeah, Steve had blushed when Eddie mentioned going to a fancy restaurant and said he didn’t have the money for it, but that’s because he left his wallet behind because, as previously stated, he’d thought this was just a dick appointment.

But you see, Steve Harrington was the CEO of a major international corporation that had been in the Harrington family for generations who, once Steve took the helm from his father, had also recently begun work in far more charitable organizations and activities. His company was, in fact, one of the major donors that supported the arena in which Corroded Coffin had just played in last night. The company’s logo, a small crown with the company’s initials, was printed on all the tickets and on the backstage passes.

How else would Steve have been able to afford over half a dozen of them if he was living on just a babysitter’s salary.

Yet, here was Eddie, offering to be his…sugar daddy?

Steve would have laughed, was tempted to even, but Eddie looked so genuine and earnest and like truly all he wanted was to spend more time with Steve.

And really. Steve was so used to having to be the one to provide luxuries for his dates, to be the one in charge, to always have to give give give. Maybe, just maybe, he could play along with Eddie’s utter misunderstanding and take just a little bit. He’d pay Eddie back when the rockstar got bored of him and moved on, so really, what was the harm?

So yeah, Steve just smiles and says Okay, Daddy, and accepts the goddamn gifts Eddie had apparently already bought for him even before their date, and he lets himself have his fun.

After all, it’s not like it’s gonna turn into anything long lasting, right? Nothing serious, right? And there’s absolutely no way that they could ever fall in love…

…right?

Aaaaand yeah. Other things that I envision could pop up in the story:

Robin is his best friend and works for him with international clients due to being polylingual. She discovers what is going on and calls him a dingus. She also wants all the gossip.

Dustin finds a diamond studded collar in his bedroom that says “Babygirl” and asks if Steve is getting a dog. He was looking for something to wear to impress a date and Steve forgot Eddie’s latest gift was still on his bed.

Steve is in full sugar baby mode when they accidentally run into one of Steve’s business associates and/or they are at one of the venue locations Steve secretly owns and he’s trying desperately to hide anything that might have his name or face on it.

In the end, Steve starts buying Eddie expensive gifts too which freaks Eddie out because he doesn’t want Steve to waste what little money he has on him. Or so he thinks.

Some big angsty misunderstandings and the truth finally being revealed. It ends with them agreeing to spoil each other, but only Steve gets to be called “Babygirl” and Eddie remains “Daddy”. Everyone is sick of how in love they are.

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

No pressure tags: @scoops-aboy86 @endlessmusings1801 @viviseawrites @steddieassheg0es @stevesbipanic (if you’ve previously been tagged, just ignore me!)

[yasmindifference]

Cheer up prompt #27

An anon and @this-was-a-terrible-idea also requested #27! A popular number apparently lol. I hope you all enjoy! ♡

"--and then Mr. Browsten said that with all the, um, the hullabaloo that it wasn't fair to make us take a test, so he cancelled it."

Tim pauses for breath and Mom hums an encouraging noise. When Dad makes that sound, it means he's not really listening, but he knows Mom's paying attention, even though she hasn't stopped curling her hair. From where he's lying on her bed, he can see her reflection in the vanity mirror, and she's frowning just like he knew she would.

Mom doesn't approve of canceling tests, which means she doesn't approve of Mr. Browsten, because he cancels them all the time.

(Mom says tests are important to know where improvement is necessary. Mr. Browsten doesn't seem to agree.)

"So we watched a documentary instead and it was pretty interesting, it was about puffer fish! Sarah asked what puffer fish have to do with grammar and Mr. Browsten said that learning is its own reward, but I think he just didn't have anything else ready so he took something from Ms. Cappola instead. She's the fifth grade science teacher and I heard her classes watch movies at least twice a week."

Mom tuts, which Tim was expecting, and sets down her curling iron.

"Ridiculous," she mutters. "I don't know why we're paying that school so much in tuition when they can't be bothered to teach you anything. It's a miracle you ever learned to read."

"It's because I'm smart," Tim informs her helpfully, and Mom smiles her special just-for-Tim smile.

"You are," she agrees. "And thank goodness for that. Now, would my smart boy do me a favor?"

Because Tim's smart, he already knows what she's going to ask. He rolls off the bed to his feet. "Curling iron?"

"Yes, please." Mom rolls her chair away from the vanity so he can crawl under it to unplug the curling iron. She plugged it in herself, but that was before she was all dressed up in her expensive dress. "Thank you, Timmy."

"You're welcome," he chirps, crawling back out.

Mom rolls back in front of the vanity, but Tim stays where he is, kneeling next to it so he can watch her put her makeup on. There are a lot of different bottles and brushes and powders involved, but Mom never hesitates. Tim doesn't know how she keeps it all straight.

He likes watching Mom get ready to go out. Sometimes--like tonight--she lets him pick out the jewelry she's gonna wear, and then she chooses her dress and hair and makeup all based on what he picked. Even when the colors don't match, it all fits together like a puzzle...a puzzle she pieces together in seconds after Tim's impulsive choice.

It's really cool.

Tonight, Tim picked pretty, dangly earrings with some kind of red stone (ruby, Mom said when he asked), so Mom picked a black dress. She said it would make the earrings pop, which he didn't get until he saw her wearing it.

Now, he watches her choose lipstick as red as the earrings and asks, "Does the lipstick make the earrings pop, too?"

Mom finishes smoothing it on before she smiles at him. "You tell me."

Tim studies her. The lipstick matches the earrings, but it doesn't draw attention to them the way the plain dress does. He already watched her do her eye stuff, and her eyes look bigger somehow, but they're not colorful like they were when they all went to the opera last week.

"No," he decides. "You went new...neutral?" He waits for her slight nod of confirmation, then continues, encouraged, "You went neutral with your eye stuff and red with your lipstick to make your lips pop."

"Very good," Mom says, smiling. She cups his cheek briefly before turning back to the vanity. "Clever boy."

Tim beams and watches in fascinated silence as she uses some kind of powder. Even though he's staring right at her, he can't tell what the powder actually does. All he knows is that when she's done, her face looks...different. Still pretty, but kinda sharper somehow.

Makeup is like magic, he decides. No matter how many times he watches her get ready, he can never figure it out.

"Can I try?" he asks impulsively.

"Try what?" Mom asks, a little distracted. The cap on one of her bottles is stuck and she's struggling to open it.

"Your makeup!" Tim takes the bottle from her and opens it by using the hem of his shirt to grip it better. Mom can't do that, her dress is all shiny and slippery. "You look pretty, I wanna try."

Mom pauses and then smiles.

"I don't have long before I have to leave," she warns him, "but I don't see why not. Do you want to pick out some lipstick?"

Tim absolutely does. He levers to his feet as, across the room, Dad finally stirs. He's been reading some stuff his assistant from Drake Industries brought by earlier, ignoring them both, but now he says, "Janet" in a weird tone.

"Jack?" Mom asks, even as she directs Tim's attention to the little circles on the bottom of her lipstick tubes that show what color they are. She has a lot of options.

"Janie, really," Dad says. He sounds unhappy, and Tim looks up from comparing two different shades of pink to find him frowning. "You can't mean to let our son--"

He stops mid-sentence and Tim bites back a wince. Dad's in trouble; Tim hasn't seen that look on Mom's face since he told her about his last nanny giving him whiskey to help him sleep when he woke up from bad dreams.

"My son," Mom says very deliberately, "is welcome to express himself however he likes."

Is trying makeup expressing himself? Tim just wants to see if it makes him as pretty as it does Mom.

Either way, that's not a good tone. Tim looks down and concentrates really hard on picking out a lipstick.

"Janet," Dad tries again, weakly. He obviously knows he's in Big Trouble, but for some reason he hasn't apologized yet. Tim tries to psychically tell him to cut his losses and back down, but his telepathy apparently still hasn't kicked in, because Dad says, "It's just that--"

"Do you know what you want to try, sweetheart?" Mom asks, completely ignoring Dad.

Tim looks between his parents, decides to let Dad dig his own grave, and hands Mom the red he settled on.

(If it's the red that most closely resembles the red in Robin's uniform...well, it's not like Mom has any way of knowing that.)

"Excellent choice!" Mom says. She stands up from the vanity and pats her chair. "Take a seat."

Tim does, excited. He's not usually allowed to sit at Mom's vanity.

Lipstick, he learns quickly, feels really weird. He has to sit super still while Mom puts it on him, and it makes his lips feel weirdly heavy, like there's something on them.

Which there is, actually, so...he doesn't know what he was expecting.

Mom hands him a tissue so he can "blot" his lips, just like he's seen her do a million times, and then steps aside so he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"Whoa," Tim says, leaning closer. He makes a few faces, pushing his lips together and out, transfixed by how bright and noticeable they are. It doesn't make him pretty like Mom, but he likes how it looks anyway. "Cool."

Behind him, Dad throws up his hands and leaves the room. He's angry, Tim can tell, but Mom is smiling down at him, so Tim's not worried.

"Do you want to pick eyeshadow next?" she asks.

"Yes, please!"

Prompt #27 was experimentation! Well selected! ♡♡

[redcoralpot]

U Malatu - Mike Schmidt x M! Reader

Summary: Mike gets a call back on the ad he had sent out for a new babysitter for Abby. While they were interested in the job, Mike was more than interested in them.

Warnings: NSFW content (masturbation), and mentions of murder.

Word Count: 1.55K

Notes: Consider this a gift for the gay Mike simps!!

-

Mike had expected nothing of it, really. He had paid a newspaper company a few dollars to display ads for a babysitter in their daily papers; a last ditch attempt before starting his new job at a local pizzeria. He was working the night shifts, and with his office being in the middle of a highly dangerous, abandoned building, he hesitated in bringing his little sister along. Abby was only ten years old– who knows what she would get into?

So, when his phone rang with a call from an unknown number, Mike immediately answered, “Hello?”

Radio silence from the other end. His mother always had warned him about spam. 

His finger hovered over a red button, ready to end the call, when a noise froze any movement, “Um… are you Mike Schmidt?”

“Yeah, this is him.”

The caller cleared their throat, “Okay, so, I’m calling about a babysitting ad I saw at a local diner; I’m interested. Is it possible for us to meet there to discuss details?”

“Woah, hold on. What’s your name?” Mike questioned, folding his jacket over a chair.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you outside of Sparky’s at four o’clock. I’m looking forward to it!”

“Wait–” That was the only thing he could respond with before the line cut out, and his home screen went back to normal.

Suspicious. Maybe he should have gone a different route than dropping the opportunity of watching over a vulnerable child into just anyone’s hands, but it was too late to turn back now. Sparky’s was a public place, at least, so this person would not be able to hurt Mike without getting caught. If he got any weird feelings from them, he’d immediately call it off and go home. 

Mike glanced at the oven clock, ticking away at time like it was nothing. Currently, it was only three, and the drive to the popular diner was only fifteen minutes away. Well, shit. He was too desperate to pass this up, not with the court constantly watching his back. Mike groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, dreading his first shift already.

He ended up needing that extra time to get Abby comfortable enough for him to leave, and oh, how stubborn she was. Mike had to carry her over his shoulder just to get her into her bedroom, where she had plenty of sensory toys and items to occupy herself with. Additionally, Mike had put extra care into making sure she had the opposite too, such as noise canceling headphones in case the neighbor decided to mow his lawn again. The last time he saw her, she was huddled up on her desk again, using crayons to draw scribbly pictures of her imaginary friends. Yeah, imaginary. They weren’t real, as much as Abby claimed they were.

By the time he had gotten in the car, started it, and driven to Sparky’s, he was five minutes late. Yet, from his windshield, he could see a man in a quirky uniform sitting outside the main doors. Mike couldn’t see the details of the stranger– he needed to get his eyes checked– but he witnessed them flinch at the sound of his car door slamming. As he approached, the man jumped up with a sparkle in their eye, and held out a hand.

“Mike Schmidt?”

He didn’t shake it, causing the hand to fall awkwardly to your side, “Yeah.”

“Uh, anyways, I saw your ad. The diner hands out a paper full of ads with their menus, you see, and yours caught my eye.”

“You mentioned that.”

The man had a lopsided grin on his face, and you chuckled; the sound sent a spark up Mike’s spine, “Yes, yes I did. I make decent money, but I’m also looking for a bit of a side job too. Babysitting was on the top of my list, ‘cause I love kids.”

“Do you have any actual experience with it?”

“I was a babysitter for my first job in highschool,” he rambled, “my favorite kid was a little boy from a local daycare. His mom said he got diagnosed with autism and she needed extra help taking care of him during the evenings. He was a delight!”

“Why did you stop?”

“Ah, it’s a shame. Fritz, the little guy, was one of the kids that went missing at a pizzeria a while back. His mom was never the same after that, and I felt guilty that I wasn’t there.” You shuffled closer to the doors, shoulders tense.

“A pizzeria?”

You shrugged, “It got shut down soon after that. I guess when a couple of kids disappear into thin air in a restaurant, parents aren’t keen on bringing their children there anymore.”

Mike opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but you stopped him, “Listen, I gotta go, this was my break. You have my number, right?”

He nodded, and you replied with your pinky and thumb sticking out of a fist, held to your ear. Mike watched as you disappeared into the diner, curiosity and another, more unknown feeling creeping up his chest. He remembered it so well, looking back on it.

-

Nowadays, Abby loves you. Mike could lean on the doorway, and a smile would tug on the corners of his lips as he watched you make shapes with your hands. A light was set in her room specifically for this purpose, as the shadows cast would mimic whole storylines. His little sister would view it in glee; the tales always accompanied by voice acting, your doing. Mike even started, in the back of his mind, to prefer the idea of spending the night like that instead of in front of a collection of security cameras. He observed your hands, how your body moved, your face, and more embarrassingly, your lips.

Mike studied how gentle and sickeningly sweet your voice was when you praised Abby, but also the stern expression that played in your eyes when she misbehaved. You would glance up at him sometimes, the manner still stained, and a heady feeling would slam into his brain. The experience always only lasted a few seconds, when his little sister would grumble again, and you were pulled back towards her. Frankly, there were times when Mike wished you would continue, though he’d never admit it. He pushed it down with everything else.

Alas, that can only work for so long– a man has needs. Those needs surface at the worst possible time, and for Mike, that was on his endless night shift at the pizzeria. He cursed under his breath, feeling his dick straining against his jeans. The feeling of your hand manhandling him out of his own front door was imprinted on his shoulder, even if his uniform vest covered it. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine, and he closed his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched together.

“F-fuck.” He whispered. 

His seat shook as Mike shifted in it, fidgeting, unable to focus on the bright screens on his desk. The more he tried ignoring it, the more depraved thoughts infected his head. A finger trailed up the seam of his pants, his breath hitching, where it finally landed on the button holding it all together. Mike bit his lip and unbuttoned it, a whine escaping him as he palmed himself. 

He imagined it was you that was doing it, your strong palm cupping his crotch as easily as you did a mug at home. He snaked fingers into his boxers, sliding himself out of the top, and rested his forehead against the wood under the cameras. His dick twitched at the movement, and he brushed against the tip. Mike huffed as he slid his hand down, and then up, repeating; spreading precum as it came out. What else could you do with that strength?

Could you manhandle him on his hands and knees? You could, he knew, and you would trail your hands down his body. So very gentle, so very kind, for what you were about to do. You could hold his hips still to prevent him from thrusting up into your hand, as he whimpered in complaint. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt the stickiness grow in his hand; you could call him the most pathetic things and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. A pet, a slut, a little whore.

Mike let out a quiet moan, “Please…”

He’d face away from you as you thrust your own against his cock, not even earning the privilege to look at you. You would treat him as only a toy to use, whenever, and however you wanted. His ass would be red from how hard your skin slapped against his; the sting only sending down zaps of pleasure. You wouldn’t even bother taking off your own clothes, only his. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you’d grunt.

That same heady feeling slammed into Mike again, but this time was different– this time it was accompanied by a white flash in front of his eyes. His body seized upwards, drool smearing against the desktop. The guard felt warmth drip down his palm, onto his pants and the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep, shaky breath. 

The stain was going to be hard to explain.

-

[cult-of-husbandos]

yandere!dabi - until he met you

💙🔥 ━ Dabi is no stranger to bringing “strays” over to the league hideout or at some abandoned warehouse to… “play” for the lack of a better word.

💙🔥 ━ The rest of the league don’t really care about Dabi’s sexcapades since the strays he picks up don’t even have the chance to stay long enough to get in the way of anything.

💙🔥 ━ They were used and tossed like a discarded fleshlight after a single use. No repeats.

💙🔥 ━ At maximum, the “playing” would only last 30 minutes. And 29.5 of those minutes are spent on the most hardcore screaming, filthiest, wall-banging sex that even God turns away at what he created the human body for.

💙🔥 ━ Toga calls him a gross fuckboy.

💙🔥 ━ Twice thinks of him as an unhinged sex god that he worships and often sickens him.

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki doesn’t really give a fuck since he bought noise-cancelling headphones.

💙🔥 ━ As long Dabi isn’t fucking in the common room or where they eat, Dabi could be turning his “playmates” into fried tempura for all he cared.

💙🔥 ━ Now, what happens to these strays before and after the fun depends on Dabi. The strays he takes in either scream in horror once he strips off his disguise and coverings, and when they try to flee, they are quickly dealt with.

💙🔥 ━ And the ones that stay get their brains fucked out and tossed aside with the scars to tell the story.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi’s boredom for new strays is faster than his “love” for them.

💙🔥 ━ Love.

💙🔥 ━ Love was never meant for a Todoroki.

💙🔥 ━ Even the word meant nothing to him. He refuses to become weak and pitiful like his mother or worse–

💙🔥 ━ An abusive bastard like his father.

💙🔥 ━ Love was never meant for Dabi.

💙🔥 ━ Until he caught you.

💙🔥 ━ The moment Dabi met you, you were just like any other stray. All alone. Standing on the corner of a convenient store in clothes that didn’t fit the weather around you. Staring off into the street, completely obviously to your surroundings. Another perfect stray to capture.

💙🔥 ━ What he thought would be another wall-denting, bed-breaking fuck to give him that sprinkle dopamine and oxytocin that distracts him from that feeling that he isn’t a fucked-up person turned into an extreme obsession he couldn’t explain.

💙🔥 ━ At first, he thought he was just the sex.

💙🔥 ━ You were definitely not a selfish lover.

💙🔥 ━ The strays he fucked were prime pillow princesses.

💙🔥 ━ You had this man's knees buckling, toes clenching, back arched so far sweat was dripping onto the bed sheets it turned his bed into a pool.

💙🔥 ━ You were giving this man the sloppiest of toppy.

💙🔥 ━ Each orgasm racked his body and he swore he saw the blinding face of God. He felt like he should be paying you for your service.

💙🔥 ━ He came more with you than with any other stray.

💙🔥 ━ You popped a few of this man’s staples, that’s how amazing you were.

💙🔥 ━ Sex with you was like a drug. So addicting. Just one more hit and he would get bored and move on.

💙🔥 ━ At least… that’s what he thought.

💙🔥 ━ After another night of the most glorious fuck he ever had, he woke up to himself all alone on the cold concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse that you two made into a secret love hotel. That was the silent agreement. You always knew when the fun was over and left without any parting words or hesitation, even at the hideout. None of the members of the league had ever seen you, just heard you. You were like a succubus that disappeared the moment the sun peeked out. That also made you completely different from the others.

💙🔥 ━ As he peeled himself off the cold floor, he noticed a white bag that wasn’t there yesterday. An inviting smell wafted into his nose and he immediately clocked it.

💙🔥 ━ Food. Breakfast. Did you buy this for him?

💙🔥 ━ He saw a post-it note on the container of food and read it: 'Your stomach rumbled when you were asleep. It was so cute! Eat well♡'

💙🔥 ━ This simple act did more to him than any amount of therapy could ever do.

💙🔥 ━ Ever since then, his thoughts revolved around you.

💙🔥 ━ He needed to find you again.

💙🔥 ━ And when he did… he’d cage you up and keep you like the last animal facing extinction.

💙🔥 ━ You were now his and his only.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi had never done this before. He doesn’t know how to reach out to a stray. Once you left, he’d often find you roaming the city out of pure coincidence and hook up then and there. He had no way of reaching out to you. He never asked for contact info or where you lived or what you did throughout the day. He didn’t even know your last name. He didn’t care. Now, he was driving himself crazy waiting for you at the places he often found you. But, you never showed up.

💙🔥 ━ The other members started noticing the sporadic changes he made. He started pacing. Picking at his burned bottom lip until it bled. Talking to himself and asking weird questions about random spots throughout the city. Losing his temper and scorching walls and other objects in the hideout. They had no idea the hold you had on this man. Shigaraki still didn’t care.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi exhausted himself trying to find you.

💙🔥 ━ He found you while on his search. You were sleeping on a park bench in a barely-lit section of the park. Wearing the same clothes you always wore. Clothes that didn’t fit the weather. No blanket. Nothing to protect yourself. Painfully obvious to your surroundings.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi felt like his heart was going to burst.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi approached you like a predator hunting for his food. The park is completely empty. No one around to witness. He nudged you awake, taking mental pictures as you stirred and blinked tiredly.

💙🔥 ━ You thought it was just another cop telling you you can’t sleep here. But, it wasn’t a cop. It was Dabi.

💙🔥 ━ In his black hoodie and mask pulled down to his chin. Crouched down to your level. He had an unbridled wide smile. You’d never seen it before.

💙🔥 ━ Not this wide.

💙🔥 ━ “Found you, baby~”

💙🔥 ━ “Hm? …Oh, hey Dabi…” you greeted, wiping the sleepiness from your eyes. “What’re you doing here? Are you okay?”

💙🔥 ━ Dabi couldn’t stop the waterfall of words and accusations coming from his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself. Everything from how you couldn’t run away from him to why you were avoiding him to who were fucking besides him. You are his. No one else's. Dabi didn’t mean any of the words he was saying, but he couldn’t stop it. It was like a dam that broke that was within the city limits. Nothing could stop it. It got to the point where he wasn’t making any sense. Like every thought was getting into a car wreck build-up and debris is just flying.

💙🔥 ━ “You hate me, don’t you?! I’m just a fuck to you, huh?! Running away from me! I’ll break you! I’ll kill you! You’re nothing! No one would notice! It would be so easy… Ashes… Is that why you're here? To fuck someone else?! Did they leave you like a cum dumpster? Who was it? Why aren’t you saying anything? ‘Cuz I’m right, aren’t I?! No one can fuck you like me! Is that all you are?! A fuck?! Fuck you! You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!”

💙🔥 ━ You could barely hang on to his words. They just kept coming and it didn’t help that you just woke up.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi was gripping onto you so tightly, almost like you were going to disappear from his sight like a ghost. Your arms started to ache where he was gripping. You looked down and saw his hands.

💙🔥 ━ They were shaking.

💙🔥 ━ Then, you looked up and took a good look at his face.

💙🔥 ━ Sadness. Anger.

💙🔥 ━ Fear.

💙🔥 ━ Taking a good look now, his whole body was shaking as he just repeated himself over and over and over again.

💙🔥 ━ You gently grabbed his face and he immediately stopped.

💙🔥 ━ He stared at you with unknown certainty. Your face had a sullen expression. His stomach dropped to his ass as his rambling finally caught up with him. For once, his words were caught in his throat. He wanted to apologize. Beg for forgiveness. But, he couldn’t.

💙🔥 ━ Would you leave him? Scream and run away like everyone else in his life? Would you see him as a monster? Would he look like his father in your eyes?

💙🔥 ━ Would you look like his father in his?

💙🔥 ━ But, you didn’t.

💙🔥 ━ You rested your temple on his.

💙🔥 ━ “I’m sorry for leaving you alone. You must’ve been scared.”

💙🔥 ━ Boom. Just like that, you flipped his switch.

💙🔥 ━ If Dabi was capable of crying, he’d be a sobbing mess. However, just because he couldn’t cry doesn’t mean his body doesn’t follow suit. Choked sobs left his throat as he held you close, loosening his grip on your arms a tiny bit, but still holding you close.

💙🔥 ━ “Y-You… I-”

💙🔥 ━ “Yes yes. I’m yours. I won’t go anywhere until you tell me to.”

💙🔥 ━ He didn’t want to let you go.

💙🔥 ━ He refused to let you go.

💙🔥 ━ “You ever run away from me, I’ll burn this fucking place to the ground.”

💙🔥 ━ “I don’t like running. It makes me sweat.”

💙🔥 ━ When the other members of the league start seeing you around for the first time, it was surprising.

💙🔥 ━ Like stated before, Dabi’s strays didn’t stay long at the LOV hideout. Yet here you were. Glued to Dabi’s side.

💙🔥 ━ “She’s going to be staying here. Don’t like it, you can suck my dick.”

💙🔥 ━ “Hi.”

💙🔥 ━ “Don’t talk to shit, Y/N. It's gross.”

💙🔥 ━ Dabi also wasn’t shy about showing others his graphic PDA.

💙🔥 ━ Making out, groping, rubbing, bite marks, hickeys, etc.. Anything to mark you as his property.

💙🔥 ━ Before the others knew it, you’ve been there for nearly a month!

💙🔥 ━ The rest of the league couldn’t believe it. They didn’t know a damn thing about you! Anytime you were in the vicinity with any of the others, Dabi would shield you away and rush you off back to his room. Like some doll, you weren’t allowed to even say a single word to anyone else or do anything. They wanted to talk to you!

💙🔥 ━ Luckily for Shigaraki and Twice, the opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time.

💙🔥 ━ The two of them walked into the cooking area one morning after a delicious aroma spread throughout the hideout. That’s where they saw you without Dabi by your side. Making something over the stove. They both gave a quick survey to their surroundings and cautiously approached you.

💙🔥 ━ “Um… hello?” Twice is the first to talk to you.

💙🔥 ━ “Hi.” You barely glanced up at them to greet them, too focused on what you were making.

💙🔥 ━ “Sooo… whatcha makin’?”

💙🔥 ━ “Jumbo Super Fluffy Pancakes.”

💙🔥 ━ Welp. That was it.

💙🔥 ━ You sure don’t talk much.

💙🔥 ━ Whether that was due to Dabi’s influence or social ineptitude, you didn’t leave much of an impression outside Dabi’s bedroom.

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki and Twice watched as you stirred batter in a bowl and flip pancakes simultaneously with little to no emotion or speak. You’re already in Shigaraki's good graces in that regard, but he needed to know something.

💙🔥 ━ “What’s your deal?”

💙🔥 ━ “Woah Shiggs!”

💙🔥 ━ “No, seriously. Is it just the sex or are you, like, insane? Or maybe just severely mentally ill?”

💙🔥 ━ “…”

💙🔥 ━ “…”

💙🔥 ━ “… Okay, yeah, I wanna know too. I gotta bet goin’ on with Toga. Is he actually good or are you just a really confident person with amazing acting skills?”

💙🔥 ━ “…Does there need to be a reason other than sex?”

💙🔥 ━ “With Dabi? Yes.” Shigaraki answered.

💙🔥 ━ “Absolutely. 1000%.” Twice added.

💙🔥 ━ “Well, you’re wrong.” you answered nonchalantly, pouring new batter on the pan. “There’s more to Dabi than just his abs, gorgeous eyes, rough hair, and 9 inch dick.”

💙🔥 ━ “9 INCHES?!!”

💙🔥 ━ “So, what is it?”

💙🔥 ━ You stared at the pancake mix cooking in the pan for a moment and looked up.

💙🔥 ━ “He makes me happy.”

💙🔥 ━ You answered simply, leaving the two members stunlocked.

💙🔥 ━ “He… makes you… happy?”

💙🔥 ━ “Mhm.”

💙🔥 ━ “Dabi? Makes you happy? Dabi?”

💙🔥 ━ “Extremely.” You had a faint smile on your lips.

💙🔥 ━ The two of them stood shocked as they watched you flip pancakes in silence. How could that… that… burn-ward victim with beef jerky stapled on him make you happy?! If it wasn’t the sex or his… above average organ… then what was it?! His personality?! That’s impossible! The moment Dabi stepped foot into the hideout, Shigaraki couldn’t stand him! So, how could you?

💙🔥 ━ “HOW?!” Shigaraki exacerbated. He had to know.

💙🔥 ━ As you slid the final pancake onto the plate and grabbed the bag of powdered sugar, you faced the two men.

💙🔥 ━ “Did Dabi tell you about my quirk?”

💙🔥 ━ “Well, I like the way my skin feels and how my body doesn’t crumble to ash, so no. I get enough of that with my quirk.”

💙🔥 ━ “Yeah, and Dabi gets this crazed “I’ll-murder-you-and-use-the-ashes-as-coffee” twitch in his eye whenever we glance at you.”

💙🔥 ━ You moved over to the wooden counter space connected to the stove and hovered your hand over the counter. Slowly, a drop of liquid dangled from your finger. The liquid dropped onto the counter and Shigaraki and Twice watched as the liquid started to… bubble? The bubbling liquid spread and sizzled and they watched as it ate at the counter right in front of their eyes, leaving a bullet-sized hole in the counter.

💙🔥 ━ “Wooooahhh.” They gasped in amazement.

💙🔥 ━ “You have an acid quirk?”

💙🔥 ━ “Close. It’s a cyanide quirk.”

💙🔥 ━ “Cyanide?!”

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki and Twice backed up a bit.

💙🔥 ━ “Relax. I can control it easily now. Growing up, not so much.” You dusted the pancakes with powdered sugar and gave two plates to the members. “I was actually homeless when I met Dabi. You can’t get a job with a volatile quirk. Did you know that if you have a life-threatening quirk and don’t put it on your resume, you get wrestled to the ground, gagged, and shoved into an iron-ledded holding cell?”

💙🔥 ━ “I… did not know that…” Twice answered.

💙🔥 ━ “Well, that’s what happens. Then, you get like some flag on your person so whenever someone does a background check on you, they can immediately turn you away. It doesn’t matter if you're fit for the job or need money to eat or pay rent or that you got kicked out your house at 13. You’re a monster. A freak. A lonely dog covered in fleas and mange that no one wants to look at.”

💙🔥 ━ “Join the club.” Shigaraki sighed. He knew that feeling all too well, living on the streets as a young child and having the same people who preached that they care to avoid his gaze and calls for help.

💙🔥 ━ “It’s why I take extra precautions with my quirk. I try not to sweat too much, I wear clothing that’s least likely to get damaged, and I stay away from people. Until Dabi.”

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki and Twice shared a look as they saw the lovey-dovey hearts in your eyes. As they munched on your surprisingly amazing pancakes, they saw what the two of you shared. What made you want to stay despite his disgusting monopolization of you.

💙🔥 ━ It’s love.

💙🔥 ━ “You… really love him, huh?”

💙🔥 ━ “More than anything in the world.”

💙🔥 ━ “You what more than anything in the world?”

💙🔥 ━ Heads whipped towards the door and there stood Dabi, in his sweatpants and a pissed off look on his face.

💙🔥 ━ “Good morning, Dabi.”

💙🔥 ━ “I asked you a question.” he asked harshly, clenching his teeth. He stormed into the room and grabbed your arm. “You what more than anything in the world?”

💙🔥 ━ You remained unfazed, seemingly having been through this before.

💙🔥 ━ “W-We were just–” Twice was immediately cut off with Dabi slamming his fist on the kitchen counter, flames flickering from his fist.

💙🔥 ━ “NOBODY WAS FUCKING TALKING TO YOU, SCHIZO!”

💙🔥 ━ Twice quickly shut himself up by shoving the pancakes in his mouth. Which were actually delicious so he’s not too mad at Dabi’s freakout.

💙🔥 ━ “Chill out–” Shigaraki was too cut off.

💙🔥 ━ “If I wanted to hear words come out of that crusty, chapped, necro-fucking lips and stained, chipped teeth, I’d dig up your fucking father and tap dance on his fucking ribcage as background music for that useless whiney shit that falls out of your mouth everyday, Hand Job.”

💙🔥 ━ The room fell silent as Shigaraki and Twice shared glances at each other and at you. Bomb defusal is less tense than this. Hell, overthrowing the heroes would be better than sitting in this.

💙🔥 ━ “SO?! IS NO ONE GONNA ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION?! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU TALKING ABOUT TO MY QUEEN?!”

💙🔥 ━ Queen?

💙🔥 ━ Queen??

💙🔥 ━ QUEEN?????????????

💙🔥 ━ Oh boy, he’s got it bad.

💙🔥 ━ If this wasn’t love, then Shigaraki couldn’t possibly think of another word. Maybe obsessive? Yeah, that sounds like a better word.

💙🔥 ━ “Dabi.”

💙🔥 ━ Dabi whipped his head towards you, nearly fully in flames. His eyes pierced right through you while you remained unfazed from his gaze. You held a slice of pancake covered in heavy powdered sugar raised up to his lips. His flames subsided a bit at the innocent look on your face.

💙🔥 ━ “Say ‘aahhh’.”

💙🔥 ━ In the moment of tense silence, Shigaraki and Twice waited on baited breath at Dabi’s reaction.

💙🔥 ━ To their surprise, Dabi’s flames disappeared and his face softened in a way that they’ve never seen before.

💙🔥 ━ Gentle. Soothing.

💙🔥 ━ Loving.

💙🔥 ━ A gasp nearly left their mouths when they saw Dabi’s mouth open and you gently placed the pancake in his mouth.

💙🔥 ━ “Mmm.” Dabi moaned as he chewed and swallowed. “It’s too sweet.”

💙🔥 ━ Without a moment's hesitation, Dabi threw you over his shoulder, grabbed the plate with the rest of the pancakes, and walked towards the door, but not before throwing the two stunned members a deadly glare.

💙🔥 ━ “This ain’t over.”

💙🔥 ━ And with that, you were dragged back to Dabi’s room for… who knows what.

💙🔥 ━ But, the two of them learned something that day.

💙🔥 ━ Don’t talk to Dabi’s lover if you want to keep your soul in your body and the skin of your muscles.

💙🔥 ━ And Dabi learned something too.

💙🔥 ━ Love is meant for a Todoroki.

💙🔥 ━ Love is meant for Dabi.

🖤🖤🖤

a/n: i wanted to make something longer for this 'until they met you' reaction and decided to play around with giving the reader a quirk. i think it turned out okay. i'm trying to pump out a few more dere boyfriend and anime boyfriend scenarios before the end of the year.

[darksigns-exe]

whatever a sun will always sing is you - noah sebastian x f!reader

warnings: none

word count: 2.1k

note: birthday fic for our birthday boy <3 title comes from the poem i carry your heart with me by e.e. cummings

masterlist | taglist sign-up

Noah’s relationship with birthdays is tricky. 

Not just because he doesn’t like big celebrations, he’s also impossible to gift to. Instead of agonising over which art book you’d give him this year, you’ve decided to do something different. While he has scaled down his work schedule quite a bit, you can still tell that he’s so very restless. 

You watch him pace around your living room, while he talks to god knows who on the phone. 

You know that forcing Noah to slow down doesn’t work, you’d tried that and in the end all it had brought you was an argument so bad that you thought that you’d ruined it all. Instead, you’ll bribe him into a slow day. 

Over the weeks leading up to his birthday you’d gathered all sorts of things including bath bombs, facemasks and a brand-new sweater for Noah that you had discovered while you were out shopping. It felt so nice and soft that you simply couldn’t leave it in the store.

When the day finally rolls around, you get up before he does. As a first order of business, you turn off his alarm, before getting a few more things into order. You slip back into bed with him, fitting yourself against his side again. Noah is deep enough of a sleeper for him to remain entirely oblivious. You allow yourself to doze off for a little while longer. 

Eventually, Noah stirs next to you. He shifts and moves, stretches like he always does before he lets out a yawn that almost deafens you. You’d previously joked that he was already making dad noises, when you’re nowhere near that step in your relationship. 

You sit up next to him, trailing your fingers across his skin.

He blinks up at you, still looking rather sleepy. His lips turn up in a soft smile. 

You lean down to kiss him. Noah’s hand curls around the back of your neck, keeping you close to him. You stay close to him when you part. 

“Happy birthday, baby.” 

For a second you think that he’ll roll his eyes as he does so often. Instead, he gives you that pretty smile of his. 

“Thank you, my love.” 

He pulls you down for another kiss. 

“You have the day off today.” You inform him, “And that’s not a suggestion.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” he lifts his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. 

“Good.” you press another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Two options. We can go out for breakfast or we stay in.” 

He thinks for a moment, “What’s the out option?” 

“I found a cute place in Santa Monica. I’ve booked us a table, but I can always cancel it.” 

You show him the menu and Noah scrolls through the page for a moment. 

“Does sound really nice.” he still sounds as if he’s trying to make up his mind. 

“We still have a bit of time.” you reply, settling back down next to him, “Just in case it helps you decide, I have made a loose reservation for dinner.” 

You end up having breakfast at home. Noah hovers behind you the entire time – or at least until you banish him to the counter. But even then he keeps finding reasons for you to come over to him. 

After breakfast, you find yourself on your knees for him. It’s as much for you as it is for him. You take your time with him, savouring the different sensation that come with this. You try your best to replicate the devotion Noah showers you with when he’s between your thighs. And judging from the sighs he lets out, you’re doing a pretty good job. You’re pulled up into his arms afterwards. 

For a while you rest like this, curled together, just enjoying the others' presence. Conversation is light, but comfortable. 

It’s nice to just have a day to yourself with him. 

Your fingers trace across the bare skin of his chest. Noah lets out a breathy laugh when your fingers brush against his side. You let yourself soak in his presence for a little while longer, before you decide that it’s time for the next step of your plan. 

You sit up enough for you to be able to look at him. Noah’s hand remains on your side, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. 

“Thought we could have a little self-care day. You always say that you want to join in when I do this, so I planned a little day for you.” 

His eyes soften then, “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You’re good. I’m more than happy to do this.” you place your hand against the side of his face, tracing your thumb across his skin, “Have to treat my boy right, don’t I?”

You swear that his cheeks turn a little pink then. 

“You work so hard, and I just want you to know how proud I am of you. You rarely ever let me do things for you, so I’m forcing you.” you say with a smile that he reciprocates so easily. 

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you – or this.” 

You know that, by now, he’s saying it in jest. 

“You just do. Accept it. You’re not getting rid of me, and that means that you’ll have to live with me doing nice things for you.” 

Noah lets out a dramatic sigh, “Horrible fate. I don’t know if I can do that.” You lean in to kiss him again, “You’re so brave.” another kiss, “I’m gonna pop upstairs for a moment, okay? I’ll come and get you.” 

Noah’s hand remains on your body for as long as possible. He looks after you with a soft smile playing on his lips, and it makes your heart beat a little bit faster. 

You try to be quick with your preparations. You’ve already placed towels in the dryer and made sure that you have everything you need tucked away in a cupboard. To create a real spa experience you’ve loaded the diffuser with eucalyptus oil. The speaker you’ve placed on the counter fills the room with soft music and with the mostly dimmed light your bathroom feels rather cosy. Once you’ve started to fill the tub with water, you head back to where Noah is waiting for you. 

He’s typing away at his phone, smiling to himself when you enter the living room. He looks up when you sit down next to him. 

“Nick texted.” he announces, before turning his phone towards you. 

The happy birthday text is accompanied by a photo of Nick’s cats. The little party hat he put on Jerry doesn’t incite too much excitement in the cat, but it does look rather adorable. 

“That’s cute. Tell him I said hi.” you drop your head against his shoulder, “You wanna come upstairs with me?”

Noah leaves his phone on the coffee table when he gets up to follow you. His hand finds yours before you reach the stairs. You love how affectionate he is when it’s just the two of you. He’s slowly thawing, allowing himself to be affectionate with you when you’re around other people. He’ll reach for your hand when his chest starts to feel too tight, finding comfort in the way you squeeze his hand. 

You lead him into the now steam filled bathroom. 

Between all of the things you’ve just added and the plants that already were in your bathroom, it’s feeling rather comfy. 

Noah wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his chest against your back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I don’t know when I have taken a bath for the last time.” he says quietly. 

“I know.” you drop your head against his chest, “I got a bunch of bath bombs too. Bath salts, whatever you want. Bubbles.” 

You’ve arranged the various products in a little woven basket. Noah inspects it so carefully, picking up different things to smell them. You think that he almost looks a little timid, unsure what to do with the array of things in front of him. He eventually settles on the cloth wrapped bath oil you’d already loved in the store. 

“How does this work? Do I just drop it in?” he asks still sounding a little hesitant. 

It takes him a long moment to really relax when you’re finally in the tub. After a little bit of re-arranging you had managed to convince him to sit in front of you. Eventually, he allows himself to rest against your properly. His head drops back against your shoulder, while you run your fingers through his damp hair. Your other hand rests, entangled with his, on his belly. You tell him about some insignificant gossip from your friend group, about the call you had with your cousin a few days ago and their new puppy. Noah’s laugh rumbles through your body when you tell him about the puppy chewing up the shoes of your cousins partner. A partner neither of you really like. 

When the water starts to cool too much, you ask him to get his hair wet. Noah gives you a perplexed look in response. 

“It’s a bit easier to wash hair when it’s wet, no?” 

He’s a little reluctant to actually let you do it. The only other time he’d let you take care of him like this, he’d been sick as a dog. To make things easier for yourself, you’d climbed out of the tub and sat on the edge of it, wrapped up in your robe. The somewhat stiff posture of his back has eased up a little, and you think that he actually enjoys the affection you shower him with. You gently tilt his head back a little, allowing you to swipe a drop of suds away from his forehead. Noah blinks up at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. You lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Almost done.” you announce, “Just have to rinse this.”

You usher him into your shared bedroom a while later. When you’d gone to fetch the warmed towels from the dryer, you’d placed the new sweater you bought for him on the bed. 

Noah doesn’t even notice it at first. 

Only when the wrapping paper crinkles under his back, does he sit up again to investigate. 

“What’s that?” 

“Present. For the birthday boy.” You crowd into the space in front of him, coming to stand between his thighs, “Go on. Open it.”

“You already did so much.”

“Noah, we had a bath, and you let me put moisturiser on your face, that’s not a lot.” you say, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

He carefully picks at the tape keeping the paper together. You’ve never seen him tear into wrapping paper, and it always seems as if he’s savouring the moment of unwrapping it as much as he does the present itself. 

“I saw it in a store while I was out getting stuff for today and it just looked so comfy.” you explain while he unfolds the sweater. 

It’s a nice deep blue, but the selling point had been the soft fabric. Sure the price tag had made almost made you reconsider, but your boy deserves only the best. 

He examines it with an adorably focused face. 

“Thank you, my love. I love it.” 

You bring a hand to the side of his face, allowing you to gentle steer him closer to you. You meet him in a soft kiss. Noah lingers with you for a bit longer, letting both of you bathe in this moment. 

When he eventually lets himself drop back onto the bed, you follow, fitting yourself against him so comfortably. You have one thigh draped across his and an arm thrown across his chest. His skin is so warm and soft beneath your palm, and you can’t stop yourself from kissing every inch of him that is within reach. 

Noah lets out a sigh, “Thank you for all of this.”

“Of course.” you place another kiss against his chest, “Doesn’t have to stay a special occasion thing, you know? You’re more than welcome to join in.” 

“Maybe I will.” he hums out in response, “Felt kinda nice to be taken care of like that.” 

“Good because you deserve it.” You shift until you can look at him, “This and so much more.” 

You swear that there’s a little bit of damp gathering in his eyes, but he quickly blinks it away again. 

“I love you so much.” he says eventually, bringing you somehow even closer to him. 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, you decide to skip out on the dinner reservation. You still have store-brought pizza dough in the fridge and every thing else you need to make dinner at home. And if you’re honest with yourself, you’d much rather spend the rest of the day tangled up with him in your own home than anywhere else. And the content smile on Noah’s face more than enough proof for you. 

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[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: 700 followers is insaneeee and sm more than i acc thought id ever get so thank you so much! f1 and/or football fans, i love u all so much ugh ALSO if ur wondering why this chapter is longer than my lifespan it’s bcos u guys deserve it for being so patient and accept it as my dearest apology xxx

Warnings: a lot of fluff actually, casual banter, a lot of coffee mentions for some fkn reason lmfao, swearing probably

Word Count: 4.9k words (18 mins reading avg)

...

You push open the door to the training pitch, the cool breeze brushing against your face as you step outside, searching for Wataru.

The headache that’s been plaguing you all morning tightens its grip, and the fresh scent of the grass seems almost too intense. You rub your forehead, trying to ease the tension while scanning the field.

Across the pitch, Trent catches your eye, his movements fluid and graceful as he makes a pass. The ball connects with his boot in a way that’s almost poetic, the sound sharp and precise.

What usually feels like music to your ears now drives another spike of pain through your already throbbing head. You wince, pressing your fingers more firmly against your temples.

Finally, you spot Wataru near the edge of the pitch, zipping up his jacket while observing the players. As you approach, he looks up, concern immediately crossing his face as he takes in your weary appearance.

“Morning, Y/N,” he greets, his voice laced with worry. “Rough start?”

You manage a tired smile that feels more like a grimace. “Yeah, not the best morning. Overslept, skipped breakfast, and now this headache won’t quit.”

Wataru nods, his concern deepening. “You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. We can cancel if you need.”

Leaning against the wall beside him, you try to relieve some of the pressure on your aching body. “Thanks, but I’ll be alright. Just.. not exactly firing on all cylinders this morning.”

A quiet settles over you as you both watch the players go through their drills.

Trent sends a perfect cross into the box, and you can’t help but remark, “at least someone’s got their energy today.”

The usual lively atmosphere - the rhythmic thud of the ball, the shouts of encouragement, the bursts of laughter - feels like an assault on your senses. Each kick sends another ripple of pain through your skull, deepening the throbbing.

Wataru notices the way your shoulders tense with each sharp noise and is about to speak when you take a deep breath, pushing off the wall and forcing steadiness into your voice.

“I’ll be upstairs,” you say softly. “When you’re ready to start, just let me know.”

He nods, understanding clear in his eyes. “Take your time, Y/N. No rush.”

You offer a grateful smile before turning to head back inside. Each step is a conscious effort to stay composed. The quiet of the training centre seems more inviting than ever, a much-needed refuge from the relentless pounding in your head.

...

"Long night?" Trent remarked as he spotted Wataru holding two cups of coffee. His brows furrowed in mild surprise, though his tone remained light as he gestured toward the cups.

Wataru chuckled and shook his head. “Not for me. One of these is for Y/N.”

Trent’s expression shifted slightly, his brows relaxing as he nodded. “Oh.”

“She mentioned she skipped breakfast,” Wataru explained, “so I thought coffee might help.”

Trent glanced at the black coffee in Wataru’s hand, steam rising from the cup. His face remained neutral, but there was a subtle twitch at the corner of his lips before he spoke again.

“She doesn’t drink it black,” Trent said matter-of-factly.

Wataru blinked in surprise, glancing down at one of the cups. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Trent replied, trying to sound casual. He looked away, his voice quiet but with a slight edge.

“You might want to add some milk and a bit of sweetener. I’ve never seen her drink it.. like that.”

“Ah, thanks,” Wataru said, giving him a nod as the coffee machine hummed in the background.

Trent responded with a curt nod of his own, the awkwardness of the moment settling over him.

As he waited for the machine to finish, he rubbed the back of his neck, obviously trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that’d crept up on him.

Finally, he poured himself a cup, his movements deliberate but distracted.

He never assumed he knew your coffee preferences, but the fact that he actually did only disturbed him.

Wataru exited the canteen, but Trent remained standing in his place, staring down at his cup. The liquid swirling as he gave it a half-hearted stir, his mind lost in thought.

He’d been trying to keep his distance from you, aiming to stay focused on his own routines. You were just another face at the training centre, someone there to do a job like everyone else.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

So why had he noticed how you took your coffee? Why did it matter to him?

The thought nagged at him, making him feel off balance. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like that he was starting to notice these little things about you, almost as if he was beginning to care. It made him feel uneasy, like he was losing his grip on the boundaries he’d set for himself.

He shook his head, wiping the bottom of the spoon on the rim of his cup before setting it down on the tray.

The nagging sensation in his chest made him feel vulnerable, and Trent Alexander-Arnold wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable. He was supposed to be focused, dedicated, with his head in the game and his heart firmly off the field.

He took a sip of his coffee, the bitter taste barely registering as he tried to shake off the uncomfortable thought.

The truth was, he’d been noticing you for a while now.

The way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the determination with which you threw yourself into your work - it was hard to ignore.

And he’d been trying to push those thoughts away, shoving them into the back of his mind where they couldn’t distract him.

But every now and then, they crept back in, uninvited and unwelcome.

He let out a deep breath and finally decided to move. He followed the same route Wataru had taken just a few minutes earlier.

As he stepped out of the canteen, he saw his teammate engaged in conversation with one of the backroom staff, overhearing snatches of words like "reschedule" and "now."

His attention drifted as he passed by, noticing Ibou absorbed in what looked like cricket highlights playing on the TV. Yet his mind was still clouded, so much so that he barely noticed when his name was called.

“Trent!” The voice cut through the haze, pulling him back to the present. He turned to see Wataru waving him over, his expression a mix of urgency and apology.

He hesitated for a moment before walking over, his footsteps heavy. “What’s up?” He asked, aiming to sound casual.

Wataru glanced at the staff member, then back at him. “I’ve got to go see Arne,” he said, his voice low. “Can you do me a favour?”

Trent raised an eyebrow, half-expecting to be asked to cover a training session or run an errand. “Depends,” he said slowly.

He saw Wataru’s gaze shift to the coffee cups in his hands, and he felt his stomach sink. A chorus of silent ‘no no no’s’ echoed in his mind, ignored by whatever higher powers may've been listening.

Wataru hesitated for a moment, a conflicted look on his face, before finally holding one of the cups out to him. “Do you mind taking this up to Y/N for me?”

Trent hesitated, frowning. “Can’t someone else do it?”

The faces of the two men standing opposite him twisted into mild confusion, as if that was the last response they expected.

"It won’t take you long."

His eyes flickered over. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to get involved. The last thing he needed was to play delivery boy, especially for you.

He was about to refuse again when he saw the concern in Wataru’s eyes. With a resigned sigh, he took the cup.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Wataru’s face broke into a grateful but meek smile. He hurried off, leaving Trent to stare down at the cup in his hand, feeling a mix of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite name.

He headed toward the stairs, his steps slow, each one weighed down by the internal debate raging in his head.

He could just throw it out.

The thought crossed his mind almost immediately.

Dump the coffee and be done with it. You’d never know. And then he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of seeing you.

But then again, Wataru would find out. He’d ask you about the coffee later, and if it never made it to you, Trent would have to come up with some kind of excuse.

Wataru might be easygoing, but he wasn’t dumb. Trent didn’t need anyone questioning him, especially over something as trivial as a cup of coffee.

He gripped the cup tighter, feeling the warmth seep through the paper. It’d be so easy to turn around, head back to the kitchen, and pour it down the sink.

Out of sight, out of mind.

He could almost picture it - the splash of tan liquid spinning down the drain, washing his hands of this whole situation.

But then there was the part of him that knew better, the part that had been growing louder lately. The part that remembered the way you looked this morning, rubbing your temples, the pain etched across your face.

He made his way down the hallway, taking the stairs one at a time until he stood outside your door.

He hesitated, he hated this strange, unfamiliar urge to do something nice for someone here. And for you, of all people.

It was annoying, unsettling.

Realising both hands were full, he resorted to tapping the toe of his trainer against the wooden door, three quick thuds echoing through the corridor.

Silence.

He clicked his tongue in frustration and tried again, tapping harder.

Still nothing.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered, irritation lacing his words.

As he stood there, a familiar figure sauntered down the corridor. Harvey noticed Trent’s growing agitation and, with a smirk, made his way over to investigate.

“What are you doing?” Harvey asked, his accented voice dripping with amusement. His eyes shifted from Trent’s face to the coffee cups, then to the trainer tapping rhythmically against the door.

“I’m knocking, genius,” Trent replied, his voice edged with sarcasm. He let out a sigh through his nose, tipping his head back slightly as Harvey's eyes flickered between him and the door.

“Since when do you ever knock?” Harvey questioned, eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.

Trent’s mouth opened to retort, but nothing came out. He hated to admit it, but he was right. He never knocked.

A beat of silence passed before Trent jerked his chin toward the door. “Get the door for me, yeah?”

Harvey grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. “I kinda wanna see how long you’ll keep this up,” he teased, his tone light.

Trent shot him a glare, though the corners of his mouth twitched with reluctant amusement.

“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on.” Harvey chuckled, relenting. He stepped forward, pressing down on the handle and pushing the door open.

Trent manoeuvred through the doorway, using the back of his shoulder to nudge it open the rest of the way, careful not to spill the coffee. He cast a sidelong glance at his friend, who leaned against the door frame with a smirk.

“See? Was that so hard?” Harvey quipped, his tone dripping with amusement.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trent muttered, rolling his eyes.

He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. Everything in your office looked untouched, as if you'd entered and gone straight to your desk. You were slumped over, head resting in one hand, elbow propped up on the wooden surface.

Either you’d fallen asleep, or...

“Is she dead?” Harvey asked.

"Here's hoping.” Trent mumbled in response.

He took a step closer, clearing his throat softly, but you remained oblivious.

Trent’s gaze flickered around the room, his usual composure faltering as he took in your dishevelled state. Despite his attempts to remain detached, seeing you like this stirred something deep within him that he couldn’t quite ignore.

With a sigh, he shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the unease that had settled over him. He carefully placed the coffee on the desk beside you, his movements deliberate.

Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your shirt as if testing the waters.

When you remained unresponsive, he mustered the courage to place his full hand on your shoulder and gave you a gentle shake.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “I’ve got your coffee.”

You stirred, lifting your head and blinking groggily. He removed his hand, straightening his back.

“Trent?” You mumbled, still half-asleep. The smell of the coffee faintly registered in your mind. “You didn’t have to..”

He shrugged, attempting to sound casual. “Wataru asked me to bring it up. And, well..” He glanced at you, feeling an unfamiliar tug of something he couldn’t quite name. “I figured you might need it.”

You sat up and rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. I really do.”

As he was about to leave, he noticed the pile of paperwork cluttered next to your computer, the chaos suggesting you’d been battling through it despite your headache.

“I, uh..” His voice faltered slightly. “Need any help with that?“

You were about to reply when Harvey’s voice cut in, disbelief evident in his tone. “You’re offering to help?”

Trent shifted uncomfortably, his back still turned to Harvey as he rolled his eyes. You caught the movement and chuckled softly.

“Not offering. Just—” He turned to see Harvey’s amused expression and added hastily, “—just making sure she's not swamped. Is that a crime?”

Harvey shrugged, crossing his arms. “Not at all. Just didn’t think you had it in you.”

Trent picked up half of the stack, maybe more, his actions earnest but guarded.

You watched him with a mix of gratitude and surprise, taking a sip of the coffee and feeling the soothing warmth begin to ease your headache.

Harvey raised an eyebrow, still leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see the day Trent Alexander-Arnold played the hero.”

Trent’s lips curled into a slight smile, his cheeks reddening as he held up a stack of papers toward Harvey. “Want to help?”

Harvey raised his hands in mock surrender, pushing himself off the doorframe. “I’ll leave you two to it. Have fun, lovebirds.”

As he departed, your cheeks warmed slightly, but you quickly shifted your focus to your inbox. An email from Arne caught your eye at the top, informing you that your session with Wataru had been rescheduled.

You exhaled, thinking, I slept through it anyway.

Trent, meanwhile, had sunk onto the couch, peeling off the top sheet of the document. He placed the remaining papers neatly on the cabinet beside him and studied the single sheet in his hand with a skeptical frown.

The bold black text at the top seemed to glare back at him: "For Liverpool FC Staff Only."

He paused, his fingers grazing the corner of the page. "I can read these, right?"

You glanced over, a small smile touching your lips as you met his gaze. “Yeah, they're just things I need to acknowledge I've read,” you said with a casual shrug, your voice carrying a hint of nonchalance.

Trent tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he flipped the document over. “Seems a bit counter-productive, though,” he remarked.

“Not really. I never actually read them,” you explained nonchalantly.

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “And here I thought you were all about dedication to your job,” he said, his voice trailing off with a mocking edge.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, picking up your coffee cup again after dragging the stack of remaining papers closer.

“I am dedicated,” you replied with a hint of a smile, “but finance just doesn’t interest me. I skim.”

He hummed, his eyes scanning the text.

You paused before starting on your work, glancing over at Trent. “Anything important, just make sure you tell me.”

Trent looked up, his expression blank but his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What if I want to skim read?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you turned your attention back to the papers. “Shut up, Trent.”

His gaze lingered on you, a smirk playing at his lips as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally looked away, his smile widening just slightly.

...

The soft shuffle of papers and the occasional scratch of your pen had become a rhythmic background noise in the room.

Your headache had lessened thanks to the coffee and the company, but the stack of paperwork in front of you still felt like an endless mountain.

As you reached the final couple of documents, you heard Trent stand up from the couch.

You looked over just in time to see him stretching his arms above his head, the motion causing his shirt to lift slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin beneath.

You swallowed, instinctively folding your lips inwards as your eyes lingered for a moment too long.

He was an athlete, after all, so naturally, he was fit, as any athlete would be. But seeing it up close stirred something in you that you quickly tried to dismiss.

He caught your glance, and instead of saying anything, Trent poked his tongue into his cheek, clearly holding back a remark.

His lips pressed together in a restrained smirk, like he was biting back a teasing comment. He didn’t want to overstep, especially in the middle of a setting like this one, and God forbid he came across like he’d noticed too much.

Your face grew warm, and you immediately redirected your attention back to the papers in front of you, pretending to scan over the same paragraph you had just read.

But the words on the page were a blur, the previous focus you had was gone, and all you could feel was your heart beating a little too fast, a bit too aware of his presence nearby.

He placed the now neatly organised stack of papers he had been working on back onto your desk. “These just need your signature now,” he said, his voice casual, but you could sense a hint of satisfaction.

You raised an eyebrow. “You finished all of them?”

He nodded, unfazed. He pulled out a folded A4 paper from his pocket.

“I made a note.. of everything that was important.” His fingers unfolded the paper to reveal messy, scribbled handwriting - a far cry from the neat, printed reports you were used to seeing.

But the gesture behind it was unexpectedly sweet.

You stared at the paper in his hand for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Trent, ever the enigma, had actually taken the time to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. His expression was calm, neutral even, but you knew deep down this was one of those moments he’d never let you thank him for.

“Thanks, Trent. That’s.. really thoughtful of you.” The words felt too light, not enough to fully express your gratitude, but you also knew him well enough to recognise that overpraising him would probably make him uncomfortable.

As expected, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit of needing me for this stuff.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and refreshing. “I’ll try not to.”

There was a beat of silence before he shoved the note toward you, his eyes finally meeting yours for a brief second. "Make sure you check my notes, though. My handwriting’s a bit shit.”

You took the note from his hand, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.

“I’ll make sure to decipher it,” you teased lightly, glancing down at the paper covered in hurried scrawls.

As Trent turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back at you. “Take it easy, Y/N. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

You nodded, cheeks flushed, as you fiddled with the paper between your fingers. The door clicked shut behind him, and you let out a deep breath.

The room suddenly felt quieter, emptier, but your mind wasn’t letting go. You pressed your lips together, trying to focus on the documents in front of you, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him - his quiet gestures, the sarcastic remarks, the infuriating smirks.

It was maddening how easily he got under your skin, how a simple glance could set your pulse racing.

Then, the memory played again in your mind, torturously vivid - the door shutting, the way he'd looked at you before leaving.

But then it hit you. Y/N.

Your mouth parted, breath hitching as the realisation dawned. He’d said your name.

For the first time, it wasn’t “psychologist.” It was your actual name.

Since you’d started here, you hadn't noticed how much that label created a barrier, a distance. Now, the memory of him saying your name replayed on a loop, breaking through that invisible wall.

You hadn’t realised how much you wanted to hear it from him.

Until now.

...

You were making your way down the hallway towards the cafeteria when you saw Wataru walking towards you. You exchanged polite smiles, a small gesture of recognition, as you passed by each other.

But something made you pause, and you turned back, calling after him.

“Wataru!” You said, a grateful grin crossing your face. He turned around, his eyes curious.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you added, your voice light with appreciation.

Wataru's smile widened as he slowed his pace. “Did Trent bring it up?” He asked, shifting his weight where he stood.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed.

“How’s the headache?” He asked, a soft concern in his tone.

“Gone,” you replied, your hand instinctively reaching up to run over the skin on your forehead. “Thanks to you.”

Wataru nodded, clearly pleased.

You studied him for a moment, your curiousity getting the best of you. You tilted your head ever so slightly and asked, “how did you know how I liked it? My coffee, I mean?”

He raised an eyebrow, caught off guard for a moment, then shook his head with a quiet laugh. “I didn’t,” he said plainly, his expression easy.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, your lips parting as you waited for him to explain further.

Wataru chuckled again and leaned in slightly, a conspiratorial tone in his voice. “Trent told me. Said you didn’t like it plain.”

Your heart skipped a beat, surprise flickering across your face. “Really?” You asked, your voice mellow with disbelief. “I didn’t know he knew that.”

Wataru smiled, watching the realisation dawn on you. “He’s an attentive boy,” he added with a nod, his tone thoughtful.

You blinked, processing his words. “Yeah,” you breathily replied, your brows lifting in agreement.

“Guess he is.”

...

Trent finished zipping up his thin jacket with a final click, the sound resonating softly as he shut the door to the vacant computer room behind him. He patted his pockets, making sure he had everything.

Across the hallway, you were locking your office door, your focus intent as you fumbled with the key.

Your eyes met at the exact same moment - yours lifting from the office door just as Trent’s eyes drifted from the closed computer room.

“Hey,” you greeted, a small, tired smile curving your lips.

Trent’s gaze flickered to your lips before settling back on your eyes, a subtle shift in his expression. “Hey,” he replied, his tone soft and casual, with an undertone of something more.

The corridor felt oddly intimate, the quiet hum of the lights and distant echoes were all you could hear. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, gently clearing your throat.

Trent massaged the back of his shoulder, having had to stare at a computer for a number of hours, a gesture that revealed his own weariness.

“Long day?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah.” You nodded, briefly looking down before meeting his eyes again. “Caught up on some stuff with Wataru. And you?”

“Same,” Trent said with a small shrug, his gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. “Online seminar ran late.”

You stood there for a moment as the hallway seemed to close in around you, your small smiles communicating a quiet understanding.

“You heading out now?” Trent asked gently, his voice almost hesitant as if not wanting to break the moment.

“Yeah, just heading home. I'm assuming you're the same.” You replied, shifting your bag once more.

“Yep,” Trent said, his eyes meeting yours.

"Walk with me?" You tilted your head to the end of the hallway where the stairs led downstairs.

He looked over, swallowing as he nodded his head. "Sure."

You both turned, your shoulders grazing ever so slightly as you walked in what felt like a comfortable silence together, descending the stairs.

You walked side by side toward the building’s exit. Brian, stationed by the manually operated door on the same wall as the now-locked automatic ones, gave it a gentle push open.

"See you tomorrow, Brian." You expressed with a genuine smile, giving him a small wave.

"See you, love. Have a good night, son." He replied warmly.

"You too." Trent added.

He stepped aside though as he turned slightly, his body angled to give you clear passage. With a subtle sweep of his hand, he motioned for you to go ahead before him.

You slipped past, your back brushed lightly against his chest, the brief contact making your stomach flip in an instant.

The sensation caught you off guard, sending a jolt of warmth through your body. You felt like a schoolgirl again, every accidental touch with a crush igniting a fire in your limbs.

Crush? You blinked, shaking the thought out of your head quickly. Nope, nope. That’s not it.

You exhaled quietly, trying to steady yourself, looking back as Trent caught up beside you.

A brisk gust of wind whipped around you both. Instinctively, you tucked the loose strands of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear, crossing your arms over your chest to keep warm.

Trent shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his breath visible in the cold air.

“Getting colder,” you commented.

“No shit,” Trent agreed, his voice a bit strained against the chill. “Summer ended quick.”

"You can talk, you weren’t even in the country," you teased, giving him a sidelong glance.

Trent didn’t miss a beat, replying almost instantly, "you didn’t even work here then, how would you know?"

You opened your mouth to respond but hesitated, the words not quite forming in time. Trent noticed and grinned, his smugness unmistakable.

“Someone stalking my Insta?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the grin threatening to break out. “Please. You think you’re that interesting?”

Trent shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Can’t blame ya. I mean, half the world’s got eyes on me.”

“Half the world, huh?” You shot back, arching a brow. “I didn’t realise your four friends counted as ‘half the world' now.”

He chuckled, tucking his chin deeper into his jacket. “Still more friends than you’ve got.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you replied smoothly, flashing a grin. “I’ve got friends, too. Just.. a bit more exclusive.”

“Exclusive, eh?” Trent said, his tone mock-serious.

"Mhm," you trailed off, smiling.

As you walked, your mind wandered back to earlier in the day, remembering how he’d said your name. It was brief, almost casual, but it had stuck with you. It had felt different, personal.

And now, it replayed in your head, over and over.

Without fully realising it, you broke the silence. “You said my name.”

Trent’s steps slowed as he processed your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “What?”

You looked down, cheeks flushed from the cold - or maybe something else. “When you left my office earlier, you called me by my name.”

Trent pressed his bottom lip up to his top as he thought back. “Pretty sure I’ve said your name before.”

“Not to me,” you said, glancing up at him with a hopeful look.

He tilted his head. “And why’s that so important?”

“Because.. it is,” you admitted, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. “To me, it is.”

Trent's muscles relaxed as his eyes roved over your features. “The bar's in hell, huh?”

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine, cutting through the chill. You nudged his arm with your hand.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest to trap the heat.

You finally approached Trent’s car, and he turned to you with a nod before pressing the unlock button on his keys.

You watched as he walked closer to his car door and opened it. The quiet of the evening was interrupted by your voice, again.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said, raising your voice slightly to cut through the wind.

Trent's lips twitched, biting his bottom one to hold back from taking any credit. “I didn’t make your coffee.”

“Don’t lie, Trent. It doesn’t suit you." You remarked, scrunching your nose and shaking your head.

For a moment, his eyes stayed on you, lingering with a soft intensity. You held his gaze, feeling an unspoken connection. The seconds stretched on as you both seemed to take in the moment, your heart racing slightly in the charged silence.

Trent eventually looked away, fiddling with the keys in his hand.

“Get out of the way before I run you over." He quipped, his voice lighthearted.

“Charming,” you retorted.

Trent shook his head, getting into his car.

You began walking towards the pedestrian gate, hearing the engine of his car start up as you turned to give him one last glance before starting your short walk home.

...

Part 7

Masterlist

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[stuckysbike]

More Than One Valentine

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.

Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader

-

Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.

It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.

You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.

“What?” You stuttered.

“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.

“I - but - we-“

“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.

It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.

So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.

It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.

And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.

Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.

“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.

Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.

So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.

You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.

You should have prepared for a broken heart.

Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.

At least you tried to.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.

You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.

“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.

“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.

You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.

They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.

Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.

Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.

“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.

Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.

Your heart broke a little more.

And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.

Where Steve asked Bucky took.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”

And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.

You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.

“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”

You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.

When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.

Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.

“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.

In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.

Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.

And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.

You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green!” Steve said urgently.

“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.

Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.

Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.

His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.

“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.

And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.

“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.

Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”

Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”

When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.

You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.

When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”

You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.

You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.

“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”

Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.

“Colour?” You checked.

“Green,” Steve said.

“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”

Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.

You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.

You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”

“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.

You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.

“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.

Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.

When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”

Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.

“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.

You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.

“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.

He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green,” Steve practically slurred.

You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.

“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.

A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.

Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”

You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.

“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”

“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.

Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.

Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.

Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.

His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.

And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.

“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”

You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.

“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.

“Please Bucky,” you whined.

Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”

“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.

“Colour?” Bucky asked you.

“So fuckin’ green!” You said.

“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.

Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.

Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.

Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.

His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.

With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.

Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.

“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”

Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”

Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.

“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.

Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”

The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.

Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.

You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.

“Is he good?” You prompted.

“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.

“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.

Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.

Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.

“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.

A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.

Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.

“I should go,” you said suddenly.

“No!” They both said at once.

You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”

Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”

Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”

You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.

“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”

You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.

Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.

[genshin-impacted]

so close (yet so far)

[Alhaitham x Reader]

You ask Alhaitham to be friends with benefits with you. (The both of you overestimate your ability to not get your feelings involved.)

word count: 11k* (one-shot)

notes: heavily nsfw**, female reader; "you", inexperienced!reader, friends to fwb to lovers, unrequited to mutual pining, modern au (reader and alhaitham went to hs together), some profanity, brief body insecurity on reader's side

*split into three main parts: one part is Alhaitham's POV btw a speed demon possessed me to write this much (im kidding; my friend put brain worms in me)

**oral sex, brief descriptions of face fucking, 69, car sex, dirty talk, face sitting, thigh fucking

.

.

.

Dating apps vary in tone and quality, you find out firsthand. Certain ones call for one-night stands and hook ups and others are prone to less of them (but they will always be there). You don't feel like you can make genuine relationships with people without meeting them first, but you figure you should give it a chance at least before giving up.

You are close to doing so when you show up for a date, and he cancels last minute.

"Ugh, man..." You sigh, putting your phone away after seeing the apologetic text. You won't blame your date: it may as well be a real emergency, but if not, he is not beholden to you to show up, though it would have been nice on his end to let you know earlier.

Still, you are here, and you are hungry, so you step into the cafe in hopes of grabbing fresh pastries when a familiar face catches your eye. You almost don't believe it, considering how many years have passed since you've last seen him. But there is no mistaking the silvery hair and the nose still buried in a book; even the green headphones remain the same, a detail that makes you laugh a little when you approach him and hope he isn't too upset at the sudden reunion.

"Alhaitham," you say cheerily, waving at him in case his noise-canceling is on. "It's been a while!"

Alhaitham takes his eyes off his book to look at you, hands raised to take off his headphones. You grin when it seems that he is just as surprised to see you as you are. "It has," he agrees. "More than a few years." He takes a look at you. "You haven't changed a bit."

"How rude!" You say teasingly, "I've changed a little bit in the past few years. Maybe not in appearance, but still. Mind if I sit?"

Alhaitham moves over when you take a chair over to sit in front of him, and it feels like the two of you never left high school-- if not for the stark fact that Alhaitham has changed physically since then. His jaw is more defined, shoulders broader, probably even taller than he was back then. He's handsome, you think, though then again, he always has been.

Wistfully, you think about the years you've lost connection with him and wonder what he has been up to. You've always enjoyed his company, much to some of your other friends' chagrin, and that sentiment has not changed now when the two of you converse easily.

"So," Alhaitham says, "were you on a date with someone?"

You don't even bother asking how he knew, only sighing and waving a hand. "I was going to be. He canceled last minute so I was going to grab something and go." Alhaitham hums noncommittally, and you snort in laughter, reminded of his apathy towards relationships then and, you guess, now.

You remember the times Alhaitham turned down people in high school at a ridiculous rate. "Another one?" You remember someone saying jokingly, seeing Alhaitham simply toss a letter slipped into his locker.

"You won't respond at least?" You asked, sympathetic over the courage it took to confess.

"I don't know them," you recall him saying. "Why should I consider being in a relationship with them when we haven't even spoken to gauge our compatibility?"

Alhaitham ended up not accepting anyone's confessions. You don't remember him dating in high school or during university either in the times you've messaged him just to catch up. Not that you have a stellar record either, having dated only one person your whole life without it going very far. You can't say you haven't tried though.

"So you're not dating anyone?" You ask, taking a sip of your drink.

Alhaitham looks at you briefly; you can never tell what he's thinking. He eventually looks away and says, "No. I'm not interested in dating."

"At all?" You ask again, voice high in genuine disbelief. 'Still?' is the unspoken question. (What a shame, you can't help but think.) When Alhaitham gives a nonchalant shrug, you let yourself sit back, astonished. You think about your (lack of) experience, the fatigue from dating apps, and then look at Alhaitham.

You've always found him attractive; you can't deny this. You trust him as a friend and as a confidant, because in his own words-- what is the use of telling secrets? Alhaitham is as intelligent and rational as ever, something you have always admired in him, which is why you trust him with this question.

"Would you be down for a friends with benefits relationship then?"

Alhaitham raises his brow in question and pauses in thought before responding. "...In general?" He asks, "Or with you?"

You love the way Alhaitham needs no explanation.

"Both," you reply. "Serious inquiry."

Worst case scenario Alhaitham rejects the offer and the two of you move on from this conversation (hopefully). Best case scenario is him saying yes. Last thing you expect is to have Alhaitham look at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him: unadulterated shock. You laugh at his reaction despite the tension that could have been held between the two of you, and you start to wave off the entire ordeal when Alhaitham tells you "sure."

.

It's only Alhaitham, but you show up at his apartment with a nervous flutter in your heart. He opens the door soon after you knock, donned in a regular shirt and sweatpants. You feel your shoulders relax at the casualness of it all and thank him for his hospitality as you enter his home. It does not take much to strike a normal conversation with him, words between the two of you flowing like usual. You are given a tour of the apartment per request, briefly admiring the tiles of the bathroom floor before ending the route in his room. It is minimalistic aside from the usual amenities, and it feels so much like Alhaitham that you smile as he types something on his laptop before turning back to you.

"Is my room that amusing to you?" Alhaitham scoffs, closing his laptop.

"Yeah, it kind of is," you agree easily. "It's better than a man cave, I'll give you that. But the walls are as empty as the day you got this place probably."

"I'll be sure to let you know when inspiration hits for me to decorate," he says sardonically, making you giggle to yourself. "Did you want music?"

The sudden change in topic makes you tilt your head in confusion. "Music?" You echo. "Music for what?"

Without skipping a beat, a song starts playing on low volume, bass steady and clear in his speakers. Alhaitham stands tall then, his headphones off, you note vaguely. He seems a lot taller than you remember, but perhaps it is because he is usually conscious of the difference in height to stand at a distance, so you don't have to crane your neck. This time, when Alhaitham stands right in front of you, close enough to bump chests, you look up and realize it is the first time you've really looked into Alhaitham's eyes.

There are more colors than you thought.

You instinctively want to take a step back, but his hand holding your arm-- firmly, just enough to stop you, but not strong enough to keep you there if you wanted to leave-- keeps you underneath his gaze. You are normally so good at defusing the tension with a few well-placed words of humor, but you aren't quite sure this is a tension that you want to cut through.

Just like that, your heart is at your throat. Alhaitham truly is very handsome, you think, eyes looking at his long lashes, the curve of his nose, and his lips. You can't help but jump when Alhaitham leans down, face closest to yours as it has ever been. You feel ridiculous, being strung taut as a caught fishing line just from being close to Alhaitham. Your cheeks prickle with the speed in which it warms, and just when you begin to wonder what Alhaitham could possibly be waiting for before he kisses you, his lips are on yours.

Your eyes close almost immediately, arms reaching up to hold onto him and finding purchase around his neck as he pulls you close until the two of you are flushed against each other. How long has it been since you've been kissed, let alone been kissed like this? Lips separating from yours only enough to find new ways to kiss you again. You gasp when Alhaitham gently bites and pulls at your lower lips. Feeling emboldened by your reception, Alhaitham swoops in and meets his tongue with yours, and you melt in his embrace.

You are surprised to see that you could probably go on kissing Alhaitham forever if that was all you could do. You only vaguely realize how efficiently you've been breathing through your nose through it all when you separate from him, dazed, and hear him mutter "fuck" under his breath.

A rush of adrenaline. You were already aware that Alhaitham is a willing participant in this newly established situationship, but to hear him being as affected as you do numbers to your rapidly increasing arousal. It's only fun when the both of you are enjoying it, after all.

"Not bad from someone who hasn't smooched anyone in years, huh?" You begin to tease, rightfully earning yourself a dirty look from Alhaitham. His lips are still wet, you think, and heat curls up from your lower abdomen up. The room suddenly feels hot.

"Are we trying to rate every encounter now?" Alhaitham remarks dryly, only to make you laugh at the thought of it.

"Not if it's not at least a 7/10," you say breathlessly. You shake in laughter again when you see him roll his eyes before holding onto his hand and tugging him to the couch. "Here, sit. My neck is starting to get tired. Being shorter is a struggle, you know."

Alhaitham sighs but sits obediently where you take him. "What do you-" He snaps his mouth shut when you swing your legs over his lap and sit yourself on top of him. You quirk a smile at the rare sight of Alhaitham being stunned once again and wonder how easily it seems to have gotten to make him react like that.

His hand easily finds its place at your waist as you curl your hands into the hair at the nape. "Trying to make myself comfortable," you say slyly. "This is much better."

You close the distance and kiss him again. You're a quick learner, so you do what has been done to you: nipping at his lips, tugging and pulling, and licking into his mouth until it makes him as breathless as you are. Is this what it's like to have chemistry? You wonder, feeling Alhaitham's hands dip underneath your top to slide his hand across the expanse of your naked skin. You want him to touch you more.

Alhaitham must have the same ideas because he murmurs at you to take it off, and you raise your arms easily to let him do exactly that. His fingers waste no time in pressing into the softness of your breast, over the white cloth of your bra. He is quick to grow tired of the thin barrier though, pulling it down just so your breasts can pop out into full view. Your cheeks prick in embarrassment at how exposed you feel-- this is the first man to see you like this, after all-- and having Alhaitham look at you with intense focus does not help with it.

Alhaitham's hands are warm when they cup your breasts, gently squeezing them until your nipples perk against his long fingers. You gasp in pleasure when he pinches them and tugs. Your arms reach out and hold onto his shoulders for support. As though on cue, Alhaitham swoops down to capture one of your nubs in his mouth while his hand plays idly with the other. He swirls it with his tongue, leaving a trail of spit when he detaches himself from it to move onto the other one. You hum as your hands card through his hair.

Alhaitham's free hand unhooks your bra, leaving it to hang down your shoulders. You immediately tug it completely off, casting it carelessly elsewhere. He is quick to be on you again, encouraging you to wrap your arms around him as he sucks onto your tits. It feels rather uneven, the way you're half-dressed but he's still fully clothed. You can feel the way his muscles contract underneath your hands, fingers tracing along the exposed skin of his neck that is far from being enough for you.

Just as you decide to ask Alhaitham to return the favor and take his clothes off, your hands spasms in his hair when Alhaitham takes a nipple between his teeth and tugs, hard.

Oh fuck, you think, letting out a long, shaky breath just before Alhaitham does it again, his hands on your back as it arches at his touch. "Fuck," you say aloud this time, and you can feel the way Alhaitham's lips curve up in amusement, the bastard. "Hey, you take your clothes off too," you tell him, tugging up the hem of his shirt.

Alhaitham looks at you steadily. "Why?"

You stare back at him and sputter. "What do you mean 'why?'" You-" You scowl, feeling your cheeks warm as Alhaitham continues to look at you with a smirk. "You just want me to say it, don't you?"

"I'm not a mind reader," he says, lips curving up. "How would I know what you want if you don't tell me?"

"I want to see you," you say, cheeks prickling with an embarrassment that you push through. "I want to touch you too, you know." When Alhaitham smirks at you before sitting up from the couch to take his shirt off, you huff. "Ugh, this is why everyone keeps giving you side eyes," you say, your hands sliding over his open chest with a mild sense of reverence despite your words. You knew Alhaitham was toned to hell, and this is the first time you've been granted the chance to view it in all its glory, your hands brushing over his built abdomen, thumb brushing over his nipples.

Alhaitham jumps slightly when you do so, and you giggle, ignoring the narrowed look you get from him and the way he grips onto your hips just the slightest. You shift in your seat, only to feel Alhaitham's hold you still, face flushed despite the impartial expression on his face. "What, what's up-" You feel it then, the hardness underneath your thighs, and you know Alhaitham sees the realization dawn on you because his blush travels down his neck.

He's embarrassed, you think gleefully. After initiating the hottest make out session you've ever had and easily pulling taut your strings, Alhaitham is embarrassed that he's hard? If anything, he should be-- better be! And you're a little flattered, you tell him just as much teasingly, and you can't help but hug him when he scowls at you.

Ah, you feel your heart flutter, knowing the effect you have on the immovable Alhaitham. But he is far from it now, chest heaving under your palm, cock hard as you press down onto it despite his modest resistance. You won't say it to him out loud, knowing he wouldn't like it, but you think Alhaitham is adorable as he is now. (You imagine people would say you're the only one who would think that.)

You rock your hips, eyes not straying from Alhaitham's as he stubbornly meets your gaze. His thighs are tense underneath you as you line yourself up to press your pussy lips against his clothed cock. A skirt was a good choice, you think dreamily; it lets you grind on him with aching accuracy and lets Alhaitham slide his hands across your legs and reach behind to squeeze your ass. You hum again in appreciation, kissing Alhaitham again as he generously cups your behind, making you moan, which he easily swallows up.

"Take your pants off too," you say, sitting back onto his legs. Before he can ask, you press your palm down on his bulge and quip a smile at him. "I want to try sucking you off."

.

You tie your hair up before kneeling down between Alhaitham's knees. His cock sits erect on his stomach, head flush with arousal. It should feel intimidating the way Alhaitham watches you, but you know Alhaitham, and you figure if there is anyone that you can be comfortable doing this with, it would be him.

"Tell me what to do," you say, hands softly trailing up and down his thighs. "I've never done this before."

"You've watched porn, haven't you?" Alhaitham replies dryly, making you roll your eyes good naturedly.

"It's not the same thing as doing, and you know it." You look over at the nearby table he has kindly set up for you in advance and take the bottle of lotion to pour some onto your hand. Alhaitham jolts slightly at the coldness of the lotion, hissing in a breath, though with the way you are steadily pumping his cock, you aren't quite certain the sound wasn't at least partially from pleasure. "Alhaitham," you begin, a whining lilt to your voice. "Come on. Teach me?"

"Alright, alright, fine," Alhaitham says, his hand covering his face. "Just- just stop for a second."

You let go of his cock, beaming up at him as he shifts so that he's sitting more comfortably. "Here," he says, almost boredly. He gestures for you to take him in hand again, and your heart skips when you feel his hand over yours, squeezing it as he guides it up and down again in a steady rhythm. "Tighten your grip like this. A little harder is fine. There are more nerve endings at the tip, but there's nothing wrong with covering the base as well." You can only nod in acknowledgement, a lump in the back of your throat as you emulate exactly what Alhaitham has shown you.

Is this how he normally gets himself off? The same strength, the same motion-- maybe a little extra attention at the tip where it is more sensitive? You feel your face warm and hope it does not show as you watch Alhaitham's face for approval or for any signs of pleasure.

Alhaitham has always been intense despite his neutral face. But you know him well enough to recognize the minute changes that occur. The tense jaw, partially open mouth, half-lidded gaze is enough to light a fire in your stomach. But you wonder how he would look if he were completely drowned in pleasure, if you could be the one that makes him look like that.

You speak before you can lose the courage to. "Can I use my mouth?" You say, "I want to use my mouth."

Alhaitham's cock twitches in your hand.

"Then put it in your mouth then," Alhaitham says, "and avoid teeth. It hurts."

Obediently, you nod and sit up on your knees, puppy licking the tip to test the waters before opening your mouth to put it in. You had thought this when your hand could not completely wrap around his cock, but Alhaitham is big, enough to make your jaw ache when you try to fit more of his member in. You make a sound of discontent when the cock head hits the back of your throat and you aren't even halfway down. You let your tongue rest on the bottom of his cock, saliva pooling underneath with a mouth so full.

It doesn't fit, you think somewhat dejectedly. You swallow around his cock, making a discontented noise when you feel Alhaitham's thigh clench as he bucks up into your mouth. "Sorry," he says, and you tell him an incomprehensible 'it's okay' around his cock. His thigh tenses up again.

You tentatively raise your head, lips wrapped around his member for a moment before pulling yourself off, ready to ask for guidance when Alhaitham offers it to you. "You can use your hand to cover the rest of it," he says. "A wringing motion like this. It'll feel better if you suck while you're doing it too. Use lotion or spit if it's too dry."

You nod and follow his words step by step, swallowing his cock again and hollowing your cheeks. The other hand pumps his cock as you slowly bob your head up and down. You lift yourself up with a breath and let saliva spill from your lips to ease the motion, your eyes glancing up to meet Alhaitham's eyes.

You don't think he has taken his eyes off of you for even a second.

It's a little addicting to know that his attention is all yours. What does he like best about this whole situation, you muse. The fact that he's your first? The eager way in which you are trying to please him? Or is it the look of you drooling over his cock, getting off just from sucking it?

You hum in pleasure around his cock and he throws his head back, hips jilting up only slightly.

You pop yourself off of him again, hand pumping the entire expanse of his cock as you tilt your head to lick at his balls. "Fuck," Alhaitham mutters, hands clenched into the couch. You watch as his eyes flutter open before looking at you again, chest rising and falling. Not one to give neither you nor him reprieve, you are sucking him off again, and then off, and then on. It's a little fun watching him writhe, and you slowly begin to realize the power you seem to have over him.

You are so grateful to Alhaitham for saying 'yes.' The feeling of being wanted, of being desired, of being empowered is intoxicating. Watching Alhaitham fall apart before your eyes because of you is even more so.

He says your name, strained, "I'm close."

Alhaitham lets out an involuntary groan when you pop off again. "Does cum taste bad?" You ask. "It's a lot neater if I swallow, unless you want it somewhere else?" The thought of Alhaitham finishing on your chest or face is somewhat appealing, though you worry about the mess.

It doesn't seem like Alhaitham particularly cares, because he grits out, "Your choice." He muffles a grunt of pleasure that you wish you could hear at full volume. "Just-"

The key to success is consistency, you think. You bob your head up and down in tandem with your hand, licking the head and swirling your tongue around his shaft until Alhaitham lets out a strained, "I'm coming-"

Despite the warning, the warmth that spurts in your mouth is still surprising. You slow your pace as Alhaitham cums, all pretty gasps and grunts that makes your head spin as you take all he is giving and swallowing. It's a lot more than you think too, your hand daintily at your mouth as you swallow as though it were the last bite of a meal. You look at Alhaitham, skin glistening with sweat, breathing hard after his climax, eyes slightly wide as he watches you lick your lips.

Before you can ask for it, Alhaitham shifts just enough to reach for a towel-- he really is prepared for everything-- for you to wipe your hand with. You hear him let out a long breath before you return the towel to him for his own uses. You stand up, wincing at the marks on your knees from kneeling for so long before grinning at him.

"So, what's the verdict?" You ask jokingly, making him scoff and roll his eyes as you had predicted.

"I'm not answering that," he says. He stands up and picks his sweatpants from the ground to make himself more modest. "You can extrapolate for that type of answer yourself."

You expected as much, but you still pout and sigh. You sit on the couch next to him. "Aw, boo, well I guess I'll just give myself an 8/10 then." You stop when you feel Alhaitham's gaze on you, calculating. "What, what is it? Am I lowballing it or what-"

"I think it's your turn," Alhaitham says simply.

"Oh, uh..." You honestly didn't come to his house expecting anything, so this comes as a surprise to you. That and a few certain parts of you makes that bit of insecurity flare up the moment Alhaitham mentions reciprocation. "It's fine," you say, "we don't have to-" You snap your mouth shut when Alhaitham parts your legs to put his knees between, his hand lifting your chin so he can kiss you. You vaguely think about the fact that he can probably taste himself on your tongue.

"I insist," Alhaitham murmurs against your lips.

"What do you suggest then?" You stammer, and Alhaitham pushes himself off just enough to look at you directly.

"We could try fingering. See if that's to your taste and then move on." He gauges you carefully. "We could stop if you truly wanted to, but don't make that decision on my behalf."

"Well, we could try," you say, lowering your gaze, feeling your heart pick up in anticipation.

"Alright," Alhaitham replies softly. "You can stop me at any time."

This is why you trust Alhaitham. This is why you asked Alhaitham to do this with you, to-- for a lack of better, less dramatic phrases-- be your first. It was made as a casual request but Alhaitham knew to take it seriously for you anyways. You aren't sure how much he knows how his words make you feel at ease.

The sense of ease is immediately replaced with nervous anticipation when Alhaitham parts your legs, pooling your skirt at your stomach, and slips his hand underneath your panties. You hear him let out a sharp breath, and before you can ask what's wrong, he says, almost in awe, "You're so wet."

You understand Alhaitham's feelings earlier now when you had felt his bulge; your arousal on full blast is nothing short of mortifying even though the situation calls for it. You hadn't even noticed, so focused on the task at hand, but when Alhaitham pulls back with glistening lines of slick between his fingers, you don't doubt his observation.

"W-Well, you know," you mumble, your hand grasping onto his supporting arm. Your eyes flutter when Alhaitham cups your sex, fingers sliding a line down the middle. Your hand spasms when his thumb hits your clit on the way down, and Alhaitham does not miss it. "Wait, Alhaitham-" You squeal when he presses onto your clit, swirling around it with persistent pressure that makes it hard to say anything coherent. You wouldn't have wanted to tell him to stop anyways, but you have a feeling he just wanted to tease you.

"Sensitive?" He says almost smugly.

"Not usually no," you choke out, breathing out a sigh of relief when Alhaitham lets off.

"Interesting," he says, and it's only now you realize how quiet Alhaitham was before when you were on your knees. Now with him at the upper hand, he can speak all he wants, and you're the one left catching your breath. It really is different when it's someone else doing it. "I'm putting one in to start, okay?"

You nod, but when you feel the first intrusion prod in, you reach out to seek out Alhaitham for support. "Relax," he tells you. "Your muscles are too tense for anything."

"Sorry," you say, taking a deep breath. He pulls you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You hot breath hits his neck when you turn to him. "Make sure you really lube that up, Haitham." You breathe again when his finger enters, and when it curls up onto the spongey part of your cunt, you feel it. It's nothing of import yet, but Alhaitham seems patient enough to build up to it.

One finger barely fits, but even with time, the second finger enters too. "You're tight," Alhaitham grunts, and you feel yourself redden as your only response. "I think you're stretched out. Any pain?" When you shake your head on his shoulders, you feel his fingers slowly pump in and out of you.

It picks up in pace and intensity, and then when he curves up this time- oh, you aren't sure you've ever felt this sensation before. Alhaitham's fingers are so much longer than yours, so it makes sense he can reach the places you can't, knuckles deep in you. Your breathing quickens and with it, Alhaitham's speed, his fingers pounding at that same spot over and over. You're at a daze, not any closer to a climax but not bored without pleasure. You aren't sure how long Alhaitham goes at it until he slows down, and the fog clears up.

"You okay?"

You hum, turning your head to face Alhaitham when he peers over to you. "Yeah," you mumble, "I feel good, just can't come from this."

"Hm."

You miss Alhaitham's warmth when he pulls away, fingers grasping at him. The haze that you feel quickly blows away when Alhaitham gets on his knees and pries your legs apart. "Whoa, um-"

"Most cannot finish with vaginal stimulation alone," Alhaitham says factually. "Hence, I'll be focusing my efforts on other areas."

"Yeah, I get that," you say, blinking with embarrassment. "It's just, um..."

Without your understanding, Alhaitham gives you a deeply unimpressed look. "Hair is a natural phenomenon. It doesn't matter to me in the slightest."

You would find it hard to believe, an insecure part of you convinced that it must be polite niceties. But this is Alhaitham, and he is never one for false platitudes and social norms with strangers or friends or you. When he says he does not care, you believe him.

"If you're sure," you tell him, and you let out a small squeak when he tugs your panties down, not even bothering to take it off completely before you feel his fingers pry your leaking lips apart. A lick up your clit has your legs closing on his head, but Alhaitham's hands easily pry you apart and keep you that way, your pussy open to be eaten.

You want to look away when Alhaitham's meets your eyes, and then his lips press to your folds and he begins to gorge himself on you.

It's impossible to keep your eyes open then when you're too distracted by how Alhaitham's tongue swirls around your clit, the muscle pressing into the bud of nerves with a dogged persistence. Even the noises you have kept to a minimum spill from your lips involuntarily. You can only breathe in hiccups, Alhaitham relentless in his pursuit of your climax as he sucks on your clit and begins to press his fingers against the zone of pleasure inside you as well.

'It feels good' sounds like an understatement at this point. You climb the precipice at an alarming speed, and you cannot help but grasp onto the hand keeping your thighs apart to ground yourself. It's almost overwhelming, but then you feel Alhaitham unfurl his grip onto your leg to grasp onto your hand.

It must be the endorphins, but you feel a warm ooze of affection for Alhaitham pool in your chest.

Logical, calm, and reasonable Alhaitham. Arrogant, antisocial, abrasive Alhaitham. Observant, considerate, and kind Alhaitham. You've known this man for so many years, and you are reminded in this instance that in all the times you have trusted him, he has never failed you once.

"Alhaitham-" You cry out. Your head feels hot as you curl your toes, your heels at his shoulders. When he hums in response, you feel the build up towards the beginning of the end. "I'm- I'm coming-"

You throw your head back, gasping in pleasure as your body jerks with waves of pleasure. Hazily, you feel Alhaitham lap at your hole at a slow but steady pace, his mouth never leaving you even as you buck against him.

Alhaitham only lets you go when your body slackens, legs limp in his arm as he gently sets it down in a comfortable position for you. You watch him, dazed, as he quietly grabs the towel to wipe his face and hands. He must see you look because he turns to you and offers you the towel too, though the mess between your legs is one of the last things you care about at the moment.

"C'mere," you say, arms reaching out for him. When he doesn't immediately come to you, you wave your hands insistently. "Plea-a-ase come here? I wanna cuddle."

A flicker of emotion comes and goes on Alhaitham's face before he replaces it with exasperation. "I didn't realize the benefits portion of friends with benefits included cuddles," he says, but he walks to you anyways, huffing in laughter at the small 'yay!' from you. Alhaitham settles in the space you moved over for him on the couch, and you immediately latch yourself onto him, head fitting easily at the crook of his neck. As his arms wrap around you, you heave a content sigh.

"You should have read the fine print, Alhaitham," you drawl, cheek pressed against his naked skin. "It was right there on page 562, 9th clause, addendum number four." You close your eyes, smiling at the sound of Alhaitham's little huff.

"Out of the two of us, I'm the one more likely to read a written agreement in full," he says. His voice reverberates in your ears, low and comforting.

You always thought he had a nice voice, reading out texts in class and reciting lines without effort. The two of you are a long way off from high school, but thinking back at the Alhaitham back then brings you good memories. It's even more so when you compare it to the Alhaitham now of whom reconnecting with was happenstance.

Alhaitham has changed a little in the years you have not seen him, with what you know now includes a fallout with Kaveh and an early college graduation. He's a little softer, you think, edges more blunt but still just as deadly when wielded with a sharp wit. It is to your comfort that most parts of him remain the same. A little smug, a little snark.

You're glad; you've always liked him just the way he is.

You feel his hand absently rub circles into your shoulders and feel as though that sentiment has only grown stronger.

"...You're hard again?" You ask after a moment, muffling your laughter into his skin when he clicks his tongue and shifts his legs so the offending body part in question is no longer touching you.

"A normal physical reaction," Alhaitham says, miffed.

You pause. "You want me to do it again?" You ask.

Alhaitham shifts so he can look down at you as you give him a grin, reaching down to grasp at his shaft and watching that moment when you catch him off guard, eyes fluttering in pleasure. Oh, yes, you think, heat pooling into your abdomen, you can certainly go for another round.

.

.

.

You tell him that you are tired of dating around with men you have no connection with, afraid to build intimacy when you are still inexperienced, and trust him enough to put up the offer to be friends with benefits. Alhaitham knows he is in love with you, but he says yes anyways. He does not make miscalculations often, but he acknowledges that he is only human, so he is prone to them occasionally. He thinks this decision to be friends with benefits with you may be one of them.

He has always had a hard time featuring his own feelings in the equation, surprisingly volatile in its unchanging affection for you even after all these years. (How long has it been since high school?) Anyone with a brain not controlled by their libido knows entering a purely sexual relationship with someone you’ve never quite stopped having feelings for is a recipe for disaster. But just maybe, being aware of that much will let Alhaitham avoid ruin.

It doesn't stop the way something in his chest twists painfully at the thought of holding you close even though you could not be more further away. After all, in initiating this relationship with him, you must have seen him as only a friend. You seem excited at the prospect of starting this type of relationship with him, and he is not one to deny you something if he believes it is something in his power to give.

On that note, he is surprised when he hears you have no experience being in a physical relationship with a man. Alhaitham does admit the idea of being your 'first' appeals to him, and because of that he thinks maybe he isn't so infallible to the whims of desire.

He's liked you for ages. He isn't sure even the best of men can refuse when the object of his affection asks him to treat them gently. (Or so he thinks. You may be more of his weak spot than he ever anticipated.)

You show up on his doorstep a week later, beaming at him when he lets you into his apartment. In the days leading up to this meeting, Alhaitham has prepped the environment with necessary amenities. You didn't specify what was to happen today, so he prepares everything to the lube to the condoms to the towels. Music, too, is something he did extensive research in, having learned that it can often set the mood.

Alhaitham isn't necessarily the most experienced person, but for the sake of knowing, he has slept with people and learned about his own preferences. He is more curious than he admits to finding out more about your preferences.

Still, when you look up at him doe-eyed and cheeks warm in anticipation, he is taken aback by the idea that he'll be the one to guide you today. He remembers when you were the one to direct him to class when he was lost as a transfer sophomore in high school. You were so assure of yourself, confident-- he never would have anticipated that you would have a shy side to you.

Perhaps that is what makes it all the more endearing, you all the more desirable, his chest searing with want as he closes the gap to finally feel your lips on his.

He really likes you, he's reminded, heart beating hard in his chest he thinks you might be able to hear it. And though you do not kiss him with the same feelings he holds for you, when you look up at him like that, he can almost imagine that you do.

Lips are one of the erogenous zones outside of sexual organs, filled with sensitive nerves that can sense even the slightest difference in temperature. The auditory sense is powerful too when it comes to stimulating the libido. It's why Alhaitham wants to devour you when he hears your small gasps as he pulls at your lips.

"Come sit," you murmur to him, and he can only acquiesce without a word. Good thing, because he would have been made speechless the way you boldly swing your legs over to sit on his lap. Alhaitham is acutely aware that his cock has begun to fill, straining against sweatpants that shows no effort to hide his arousal.

Your kisses sear his lips, your hands welcoming his to explore your body which he does with little hesitation. Alhaitham wants to see you in full, your breasts spilling out and nipples hard being irresistible that he cannot do anything but put his mouth to use again.

Your skin is smooth against his palm, your sounds of pleasure almost like music to his ears he almost wishes it weren't buffeted by the sensual base notes of a playlist he searched up last night. "I want to touch you too," you tell him breathlessly, and who is he to deny you that?

When you take a moment to admire his body, he takes this moment to look at you-- an overview, one might say. You are breathtaking in his perspective, lips slightly swollen, breasts bouncing when you adjust yourself. Alhaitham feels his cheeks warm when you innocuously grind yourself onto him (that damned skirt), and he only grows hotter when you do it again with purpose.

He should have known you would be able to flip the tables on him like that, inexperience be damned. You've always had a way to do that.

And then you are on your knees, hair up and ready to pleasure him, and he almost doesn't know what to do. Except he must-- you want him to guide you, to teach you how to make him feel good, and the way you easily do that forces him to do his best not to buck up into your touch. He must be more sensitive because it's you, or maybe you really are that fast of a learner, even when it comes to sucking cock.

Would you like dirty talk? He wonders, praise or degradation? You seem to like it a little rough, though you seem receptive to his gentleness too. Not that he can think it thoroughly with the way you are hallowing your cheeks, tongue swirling around his cock. Seeing you swallow his cum-- all of it-- is almost enough to revive his softening member, the way you look at him coyly an attractive look on your face.

He thinks the way your face contorts in pleasure is also an attractive look for him too. Alhaitham looks up from his position between your legs and watches you with hazy desire as you close your eyes, hand at your mouth to muffle your gasps. Alhaitham thinks of telling you to stop covering yourself, but he thinks that just this one time, his mouth has better things to do.

His name on your lips as you reach your high makes him close his eyes and hum in pleasure, tongue delving into you again as your slick gushes from your hole. Alhaitham is a man of pride, and watching your body slacken, spent on pleasure that he wrought from you makes his chest burn with satisfaction.

He wipes himself and sees you look up at him almost sleepily, and the satisfaction quickly morphs into gentle affection. He wants to kiss your forehead, clean you up himself and hold you. But is that too revealing? Too much emotion for a relationship like this? And Alhaitham is brought back to the reality that you are only his friends with benefits. (He is well aware of the concept of 'post-nut clarity' but finds it loathsome at the moment.)

Just as he begins to formulate words to wrap this scene in a pretty bow, you wave him over with an endearingly whining croon, and he comes to you without thinking otherwise. He is yours to hold-- always has been.

Alhaitham cannot control how you feel (would never want to), but he can control the way he will not fall apart even as you lay down with him, tracing shapes into his hand in a way he's never allowed himself to dream of. So close yet so far, he thinks, trying not to smile when you whinge at him at pushing you off the couch until you go to the bathroom. He'll take care of you as long as you'll have him.

.

.

.

You go over to Alhaitham's when you can. You try not to treat him like a booty call--though, as he has told you before, that is simply the nature of the relationship. But you are his friend before it comes with the benefits, so you try not to treat him any less. After all, you like spending time with Alhaitham, sex or not, though for some reason he seems almost bewildered when you come over his house and want to take him out for a taco truck you've been craving to eat.

"Isn't this what friends with benefits do?" You point out, biting into your taco. "Being friends with some extra stuff attached?"

Alhaitham looks at you for a moment. You take this time to squeeze some lemon onto his uneaten tacos for him.

"I suppose so," Alhaitham says noncommitally. "I was under the slightest impression you also wanted to use me for experimentation, considering your lack of experience. So you would want to take every opportunity we get to do something."

You scrunch your nose. "I don't like the word 'use.' It’s not like I talked to you and asked you this just for that reason." You frown, and the thought settles in you uncomfortably. "Please don't say that I'm using you. I'm not. I care about you," you say firmly. "I don't want you to feel that type of way, so if you do, we can stop being friends with benefits and just go back to-"

Alhaitham raises his hands in surrender. "No need," he says." I apologize. I wasn't being careful with my choice of words."

The discontent dissipates almost immediately with his words. You can't help but feel pleased. "And aren't you the one with a linguistics degree?" You tease, making him roll his eyes as he takes a bite of his food.

You imagine his eyes are rolled back again if he were to open them now on the ride back to his place as you give him a hand job. Only on the red lights, you vow; you wouldn't want to cause an accident on the road if he were to close his eyes while driving, though the unamused look he gives you has you biting the inside of your cheek to stop smiling.

The two of you end up parked at a neighborhood street when you unclip your seatbelt to finish him off with your mouth. You think his cum tastes a little better than before, and you tell him just as much when Alhaitham tucks himself back in. He only shrugs nonchalantly, but when you look into his fridge later after another session for refreshments you find freshly cut pineapple wrapped in a plate.

You wonder if you would taste better if you started eating them too.

And a month passes with the same routine: you ask if you can come over, the two of you go out to eat or go for an outing before inevitably ending up back at his place for some stress relief. You don't mean to do it every time you go to his place, but it ends up happening anyways. You ask if he wants to try something and then he says yes.

69-ing ends up being a lot more difficult than you anticipated, mainly because you keep getting distracted by things other than the pleasure itself. No matter how many times Alhaitham insists you're not too heavy, and no, you cannot break his neck (his confidence extends in all spheres), you can never get yourself comfortable.

And then there's the alignment issues. You may as well just take turns; it makes it easier for the both of you.

Some things he suggests too, such as face sitting. Alhaitham seems adamant on proving you wrong when he settles underneath you, your thighs on either side of his head as he serves as your seat until your legs are shaking in pleasure.

Alhaitham, you find out, is as good at dirty talk as you imagined. It's the linguistics degree in him, you always joke, but then you're always put in your place when he makes you beg for him to continue eating you out. He is smug as always after these sessions and you can only jab at him to no effect when you see it.

Leaving your jaw slack as he fucks your face, groaning about how good you're taking him, how good you look taking in his cock like you'd like nothing but to take his load down your throat- well. If it was possible for you to finish with just his words, you gladly would have. You are certainly close enough afterwards that Alhaitham only needs his hand on you for a minute before you're creaming onto his fingers, words murmured into your ears like soft feathers.

You voice does end up a little hoarse afterwards, throat sore, but Alhaitham is quick to bring you warm ginger tea to soothe it.

"Go to the bathroom," he tells you sternly. "I won't be responsible for any UTIs."

And when you come back from the bathroom, stark naked (you've instigated round two with this before by accident), your clothes are always ready and folded at the coach with Alhaitham in the kitchen getting you refreshments. It's times like these that make you forced to acknowledge the pink elephant in the room: the more you try not to think about it, the more you feel like Alhaitham would be a really great boyfriend.

Clearly, you overestimated your ability to not catch feelings for a long-time friend whom you trust and has told you straight up he is not interested in dating. You've put yourself in a bit of a sticky situation because you find yourself wanting to abide by the boundaries set by being friends with benefits, but also barely holding back from kissing Alhaitham on the cheek goodbye or asking if you can stay the night. Or taking him on real dates. Or holding his hand when you go out.

You think Alhaitham might not like the hassles that come along with being in a relationship. It's definitely got obligations that he may not be interested in fulfilling-- at least until he finds the right person. The fact he has not said a word to you about it only tells you that you are not that person. (Your heart hopes and yearns though, and you think it needs to shut up.)

Luckily or not, you end up being busy with work and family matters, so you don't get to see Alhaitham for a while. You still message him often, if only to talk about random things or complain about so-and-so. You think you should be more disciplined; perhaps the distance will keep your feelings at bay, but then the moment you find a reprieve in work you're immediately texting Alhaitham to meet up for coffee.

The feelings aren't going away, you think with mild exasperation when you find yourself nodding and hanging onto his every word as he talks about something stupid his coworker has done (and always does). All things come to an end, but you think you like to hang onto Alhaitham like this just a little while longer. Eventually you'll have to broach the dreaded but much needed subject of 'what are we?' but until then, you are more than content being with Alhaitham like this even if you wish you were officially together.

But you can't blame the way things have turned out. After all, if this never happened, would you ever have gotten close to Alhaitham like this?

You check the time on your watch and sigh. "Ugh, I promised I'd run errands for my mom so I gotta go," you say, standing up from the coffee table. You grab your empty cup and toss it in the trash. When you look at Alhaitham, he seems unsure. "Uh, what's up?"

"...I assumed we were going back to my place afterwards," he says carefully. "I thought that was why you called me."

"Oh, no," you say, mouth open with words at the tip of your tongue. You feel your heart rise to your throat as your cheeks grow hot at the honesty of your next words. "I just wanted to see you. Sorry. I should have said something."

"No, it's fine." Alhaitham pushes his seat back to stand too. "You did say we were friends first before the benefits."

You did say that, you remember, but now you can't help but wish the two of you were more than friends. You bite your tongue from blurting those words, but you end up staring at him for a moment too long to not be awkward. "Yeah," you end up saying, "I think I'll be able to see you again next week? I'm less busy, if that's okay?"

"Sure," he says, and you can't help but feel he is so far from you even though he is in arm's reach. "See you then."

It is settled in your heart and head (both in agreement this time) that your friends with benefits relationship with Alhaitham has an expiration date that is coming soon. You like Alhaitham too much to keep pretending that you don't, so it is only a matter of time you end up being just his friend again or begin something anew as a couple. The probability of Alhaitham also catching feelings for you the same time as you is basically zero, you think miserably, so you can only bite the bullet when the time comes.

"I think next time," you say after another session, "I want to have you fuck me."

You hear Alhaitham stop rummaging into his fridge to look at you. His face betrays no emotion and for a frustrating moment, you wish it did just so you can see if he is affected as you are. But this is Alhaitham, and you know better than to expect as much.

"Alright," Alhaitham says. "I can bring the lube and the condoms-"

"No condom," you find yourself saying, "I can take birth control." You look at him, gauging his reaction. "Is that okay with you?"

Alhaitham meets your gaze steadily. "If you are."

"You'll take responsibility, won't you?" You say with a light lilt to your voice, though you trust Alhaitham to take your words seriously. "I'll see you next week?"

He nods. "Next week."

.

The expiration date comes more quickly than you hoped. You shake your head and the negative thoughts away at his front door before you knock. You care for Alhaitham and you like him as more than a friend: these truths are unchanging for you now, so there is no point in despairing about what is not to be. Besides, you don't want your first time-- with someone, with Alhaitham-- to be marred with angst. You want to enjoy it with him to the last minute.

You ring his doorbell and hear his footsteps approach the front door, your heart beating fast in nervous anticipation.

Alhaitham looks normal, which is to say, as calm as ever when he lets you into his apartment. You put your bag down in your usual spot and amble to the kitchen take a sip of water. Alhaitham walks to his room first to wait for you, and with a deep breath in, you follow after him.

You are reminded of the first time you came over to his house, standing there as you wait for Alhaitham to make the first move. Alhaitham does the usual routine: putting the music on, setting out the equipment, and laying down the towel. He turns to you as you quietly watch him and bends down enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

You feel the tension melt away.

You raise your hand to brush his hair from his eyes before cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to kiss. They are gentle ones though still full of feeling, heat thrumming behind every touch and warm breath shared. "Alhaitham," you murmur, his hands sliding your shirt over your head and guiding you toward the couch.

It is almost rehearsed the way Alhaitham's fingers nimbly remove your bra, his knees between your legs as he helps you out of your bottoms. You sit waiting and watching as Alhaitham removes his own clothes--a personal show-- before he is back on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses along the same spots he knows can make you tremble.

And Alhaitham knows you quite well now, you think, beyond the bedroom. He knows how you take your coffee (not black), how you like to order your food (spicy), the way you can get carsick so he drives smoother, the nasty habit of staying up late so he messages you at 11 pm to tell you to sleep. You trust him so terribly much, and he knows you terribly well-- it is no wonder that you fall apart under his touch in no time at all.

"Alhaitham," you breathe out, holding onto his wrist before he overstimulates your clit. "I want you inside of me. Please?"

You let out a surprised gasp when Alhaitham turns you, so he is facing your front. Your heart is beating so loudly underneath your hands where you've rested them on your chest. You think maybe you would have cold feet but instead you are surer than ever that Alhaitham is someone you want to be your first. You gasp in pleasure when Alhaitham's cock clips onto your clit as he glides it forward and back along your sex. You don't think you've ever wanted someone as you wanted Alhaitham.

But you like to think you know Alhaitham well, now better than ever. So when you look up at him as a flicker of emotion flashes across his face, you can identify it. Alhaitham stays in that position between your legs, conflicted, and that is enough to ebb away the waves of desire to ask him if he's okay.

His expression freezes then, his grip on your legs tightening just a little before releasing them again. "What do you mean?" He asks, and you have half a mind to not laugh at the fact he thinks he can fool you.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," you say. "Not right now and maybe not ever if that's not something you want-"

"I-" Alhaitham snaps his mouth shut, lips twisting as he tries to say words that, for once, do not come easily to him. "That's not entirely true."

"What's not true?" You prompt.

"That this isn't something I want." Alhaitham looks steadily at you then. "Nothing could be more true."

"...Then how about you fuck something else?" You say, closing your legs and letting the plush of your thighs envelop his cock instead. Alhaitham swallows thickly, though his face is as impartial as ever (but you know better). "Pretend it's the real thing. For practice," you say coyly.

Alhaitham curses under his breath, closing his eyes at the sensation of his cock locked between your thighs.

You breathe out slowly, eyes mesmerized by the slant of his brows from concentration, mouths parted, and eyes closed in pleasure. You find that you don't mind this type of view at all, especially not for the finale. You watch every minute detail of Alhaitham chasing his bliss and ingrain it into your memory to keep.

You breathe out through your nose roughly when Alhaitham's cock hits your clit, his pace quickening as he slickens your thighs with a mix of your arousal and his. You moan at the thought of it, the sounds emanating from it a joint effort between your two bodies.

Alhaitham says your name then, making your heart skip a beat as your focus is back onto him. His eyes don't leave yours as he brings himself close to the climax. "Come for me, Haitham," you say, "come for me, baby."

Almost obediently, Alhaitham does as you say, cum staining your chest as though someone made your body a canvas. You watch him come back from his high, taking a finger to swipe some of it from your chest to taste. You smile at his coyly when you see Alhaitham watch you.

It's been fun, you think, as Alhaitham stands up to grab a towel to clean up. You sit up, combing a hand through your hair, working up the courage to say what needs to be said. You're jolted from your thoughts when you feel Alhaitham wipe a towel across your chest, cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

"Oh, thanks!" You say, laughing, "I almost forgot that was there."

"Your mind works in strange ways," Alhaitham says, and you think you are more compromised than you think when you hear the way his voice seems to dip lower, softer when he speaks to you. He pauses in his movement. "Sorry about earlier," he tells you. "Did you have another idea in mind?"

"It's fine, Haitham." You wave his concerns away. "And, um, sorta? It's nothing sexual actually, I just think I need to talk to you about something."

To his credit, Alhaitham only takes a moment to process your words. "Alright," he says. He takes a towel to wrap around your shoulders before putting his pants back on just for modesty. You watch him fondly as he sits next to you.

"I wanted to say thanks," you begin, "for doing this with me. I trust you to treat me right and you've never proven me wrong."

"No thanks needed," Alhaitham trails off, "is what I normally say but I don't mind a word of gratitude when it comes from you." He lets out a huff of laughter when you knock shoulders with him; yours is the only one that ends up a little sore.

"And I know we started this out as friends with benefits, but, um..." You breathe out. "I think... I've started to catch feelings for you." Not honest enough, you think, and add on, wincing, "A lot, actually. I like you as more than a friend." You turn away from him then, focusing on your hands as they fidget in your lap. "I don't think I can keep on doing this and pretend like I don't, so I think we should stop being friends with benefits."

You stammer, heart fluttering with anxiety, "A-And I know you said you didn't want to be in a relationship anyone, but I was wondering if you were interested in doing that with me...? If not, it's okay, I'm honestly really okay if we stayed as friends. I just wanted to be transparent with you because I think you deserve-"

"Why do you assume I wouldn't like you back?" Alhaitham cuts through. You turn to stare at him, and he meets your eyes and keeps them there. "I never said I didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone."

You stare. "What are you talking about? You're literally the one who told me you were never interested in dating."

"I'm not," Alhaitham says slowly. "I'm not interested in dating, but that doesn't mean I'm not open to being in a relationship with someone."

"Huh?" You blurt out. "But how are you supposed to be in a relationship with someone if you don't meet someone to date them first?"

Alhaitham is patient with you despite your growing frustration. It is so obvious he has connected the dots and is waiting for you to catch up. "I don't need to date," he says, "because I already met someone I'm interested in being with. I don't need to meet new people."

"Wait, what?" You gape. "Who?"

The face that Alhaitham gives you is by far the most unimpressed he has ever looked. You feel like punching it a little. You cross your arms, huffing.

"Give me hints or something," you say, clicking your tongue in annoyance. "Do I know them?"

"Very well," Alhaitham replies, sidling close to you that your arm can feel his body heat.

"Are they from our high school?"

"Yes."

"Really?" You gasp. "Well, we have your friends-"

"They are also your friends."

"-and my friends, which are yours..." You trail off, feeling your face warm and your heart rise to your throat. You can't be hopeful, you think. It is such a dangerous thing when you assume, but you think about who Alhaitham has befriended, who he is still friends with, and who he is closest to. The best answer you keep arriving to is yourself.

Is it too arrogant of you to think that it's you that Alhaitham wants to be with?

"No, it's not prideful to think it's you if it's true," Alhaitham says, and you wonder if you said it aloud. That thought is quickly discarded in favor of thinking over Alhaitham's words. Your heart feels fit to burst, lips wobbly without your permission. His eyes soften when he looks at you then, hand raising to cup your cheek.

"I like you," Alhaitham tells you. "I want to be more than friends."

"More than friends with benefits?" You can't help but ask, and you laugh through the sudden tears when Alhaitham scoffs before pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, way more than that," he says quietly. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple. "I've always wanted more with you."

You sniffle, grinning. "Good thing I asked you then, huh?" You let put a shriek of laughter when Alhaitham pins you down, arms caging you in and making you feel nothing but safe. He looks at you then, eyes full of affection that you wonder how you could have ever missed that before.

"You want to retry from earlier?" Alhaitham asks, pulling your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"I won't lie," you say, laughing when Alhaitham nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. "That talk took a chunk of my energy. I kind of want to nap and cuddle. With you! Besides," you say, shifting so that Alhaitham can join you on the coach, the two of you as close as you can be, "we have all the time in the world to do new things together." You turn to look him in the eyes and hopes he sees how much you adore him in equal amounts.

"I can wait," you say, and Alhaitham leans to kiss you.

It is not the last time he does so.

[fishsticksloser]

Ovurusutimī

Donnie x gn!reader

Warnings: overstimulation, slight anxiety/panic attack, angst, comfort, short

A/N: my brain has been on an angst grind, time for fluff.

You were at the Hidden City carnival with the boys. Everyone is talking, having a good time. The sounds of rides and games ringing throughout the park, children screaming and laughing, people talking. Donnie squeezes your hand, making you turn to look at him. His brows were furrowed, lips turn downwards. You've been here for a few hours, you could tell it was weighing on him. He was shaking his free hand, eyes darting around. You pull him to a less crowded area and took his hands gently.

"Do you need to go back to the tank?" You ask quietly, feeling Donnie squeeze your hands as he nods.

He's not talking, it must be bad.

You lead him to the tank, trying to take the least populated route. He keeps a tight hold of your hand, his head pounding. He could feel the panic starting to spill over, tears falling. You help him into the tank, he tugs you with him, arms wrapping around you.

"Shhh... I've got you, darling." You mumble, kissing the top of his head. He keeps you against him, kneeling over him. He lets out a shaky sigh as you begin to massage the back of his neck.

You manage to find his noise cancelling headphones and slip them on his head. He collapses backwards, pulling you on top of him as he falls. You catch yourself, but he continues to hold you against him. You were going to grab Donnie's weighted blanket, but it seems you're it now.

You lay on top of him, letting him calm down. He has his eyes closed, breathing slow. You almost wondered if he may have fallen asleep, but from the occasional squeeze he gave you, you knew he wasn't.

Eventually he opens his eyes, sitting up to look at you. He pushes his headphones off, cupping your cheek. "Thank you..." He murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheek. "I... Appreciate you helping me..."

"Always." You smile, leaning into his touch. He smiles softly, his touch light. You could tell it wasn't completely over, but he felt good enough to touch you at least. "Take your time."

Donnie nods at your reassurance, laying back down, his hands still resting on you. He sighs, wrapping his arms around you again. "I am sorry I ruined your fun."

"I wasn't really having much fun anyways. I enjoy spending time with you."

"Even when I'm like this?"

"Especially when you're like this. I'm here for the good and the bad."

[tf-boi]

Game Over

(Here's a story from one of the polls I made a while back. I hope you enjoy ;) The premise is me and my boyfriend keeps getting cock blocked by his little brother but tonight I get my revenge.)

"Mmmmm mmmmm" moaned Raymond making out with his boyfriend Sean. As they undress eachother their cocks became erect and rubbed against eachother.

Sean pulled off Raymonds underwear and released his musk into the room. With much anticipation he moves in on his meal. Suddenly a scream is heard.

"GODDAMMIT!!" Shouted Tony, Sean's brother, from across the hall. Raymond and Sean paused, kocked back into reality. They grinned and resummed. But as Sean began sucking Raymond off another scream echo'd. "MOTHER FUCKER!!"

Tony has been on a losing streak on his online game and nightly his loud screams would interupt Raymond and Sean's fun. The pair took another look at eachother when suddenly another scream was heard. "You guys suck!"

"Forget it! Moods killed . . ." Sean said tossing his hands in the air.

Raymond rolled his eyes "He's been like this NIGHTLY for a whole month. I'm gonna. . ."

Before Raymond could finish his thought Sean put his finger on his mouth. "Its okay Ray Ray, he'll probably fall asleep soon. . . We'll try again then."

"Uggghhhhh. . . But I'm already turned off by his screams."

"Damn. . . Guess we'll try again tomorrow. . ."

Raymond lied in bed annoyed. He wanted to get back at Tony for cock blocking him these passed few weeks. As Sean got up to go into the shower, Raymond saw that Sean was taking his phone with him. He then hatched a scheme knowing that his boyfriend is gonna be in there for at least an hour, when Sean takes his phone in he spends most of the time watching videos and laughing at memes so he had plenty of time.

As soon as Sean closed the door Raymond quietly got up and walked into the hallway in the nude. He approached Tony's room with a spare key they had incase of emergencies and unlocked his door. Raymobd peeked in and saw Tony shouting at his screen with his noise-canceling headphones on. "Perfect he can't hear me. . .little brat" he thought as he approached his prey. As he got behind Tony he realized he was playing naked, his computer and several screens heating up the room causing him to be too hot and stripped down. Raymond almost drooled as he grabs Tony all of a sudden. Tony's focus on his game was his downfall as Raymond rippes him from his chair and bent him over his bed.

"What the fu-" Tony tried to scream however Raymond covered Tony's mouth with his hands. Raymond pulls out Tony's 'lucky' butt plug from his ass and shoves his cock in. Tony tried to scream put Raymond put his hand over gis throat turning them hollow. Tony was confused as his body began to warm up with a lustful sensation. He stopped struggling as he fell to his bed almost succumbing to his fate, drooling as his mind goes blank. Raymond began focusing on the shape he wanted as Tony's limbs began to shrink and sink into him. His neck expanding as what looked like forskin surrounds his head. His body going from a flat human body to a thick round shaft. Raymond grabbed a pair of Tony's underwear and sniffed it as his victim slowly shrinks. Veins appearing as he throbbed. Soon Tony took his final shape as a thick juicy cock, Raymonds normal pubic hair changing to the light purple color of Tony's hair.

"Thats what you get for cock blocking bitch!" Raymond exclaimed in joy. He rubbed his new cock admiring his work. "Oh looks like you added a whole 6 inches! Thanks a lot bro!" Raymond began to jack off moaning in joy having to hold in his load nightly. Days of having to fuck various coworkers and clients in the office bathroom are now coming to an end. His jerking off was cut short as he heard an annoyed voice. "Ahem . . . What do we have here?" An annoyed Sean came into Tony's room. "B-babe?! You're done fast!" Raymond stuttered.

"I was out of shampoo so I just rinsed my body off" Sean said tapping his foot "I said not to do anything. What the hell man".

"Well. . . I was mad and couldn't think straight. Besides his mind is blanked out for at least another hour. So we can finally fuck in peace."

Sean raised an eyebrow.

Raymond got on Tony's bed and spread his legs, Tony's dick body presented in all its glory. "You know you want us . . ." Raymond said full of lust.

Sean rolled his eyes. "Sure but as punishment I'm gonna do all the work. . . You have to stay still".

"Fine. . ." Raymond sighed. He wasn't opposed to having Sean do all the work but now he can't go all out like he wanted.

"Now lie perfectly still love" Sean said suggestively.

Raymond lied down with Tony fully erect, his partially conscious mind throbbing at the sight of his older brother. Sean opened his mouth and stuffed his face with Raymond's giant cock. "MMmmm MMmmmm" Sean moaned as he envelope's his former brother with his mouth. "God he tastes so good~!" Sean thought. He sensed Raymond's legs trying to wrap around him, but he raised his finger and wagged it side to side, telling him, 'No you are just my sex slave today, no moving'. Sean continued to deep throat the massive rocket before him as he also gave Raymond a hand job. "Slurp slurp, gulp" Sean moaned as he sucked in all of Raymond's precum. "Uhhh uhhhh . . ." Raymond felt his tip being licked so that Sean can taste his new cock, even feeling the tip enter his shaft a bit. Raymond gripped the bed as Sean continued to go down on him. Sean's lips tighten around Raymond's dick as he moved his head back and forth, until he slid Tony's cock body out of his mouth.

Sean enjoyed his boyfriend's new cock in his mouth long enough. He turned around and shoved Raymond's dick into his ass and started riding him reverse cowgirl style. Raymond gripped Tony's bed and curled his toes as his boyfriend pounds his new dick full force with his plump bottom ass. "F-faster faster!" Raymond shouted as Sean tightened his ass cheeks and bounced up and down his former brother like a thick dildo. As Sean kept riding he felt himself fall over all of a sudden as Raymond couldn't hold back any longer. He got up and started fucking his boyfriend like a wild beast. "Uhhh uhhhh .. . no fair!" Sean moaned into the bed "But keep going!!!" He screamed as his ass gets destroyed by his boyfriend's new cock, underestimating how much length and girth his brother's body added to it when Raymond absorbed him. Raymond pounded Sean's ass faster and harder as the pair moaned. In the corner of Raymond's eyes he saw a pile of clothes Tony took off when he striped down. Raymond grabbed a sock and stuffed into Sean's mouth. Sean moaned as his ass gets destroyed with his brother's sock in him. The taste fill his mouth as the salty sweet feeling fills his mouth, with a hot mess filling his ass. Raymond grabbed Tony's underwear and gave it a big whiff as he fucked Sean. Sean cums multiple times, soaking Tony's bed with his seamen, however Raymond didn't care that his boyfriend finished, he kept fucking him until Raymond came 3 more times. After pounding his boyfriend for what felt like an hour, Raymond bent over his boyfriend and grabbed him as he released his load into Sean's ass. Gallons of cum fills his boyfriend's ass and expands his stomach. The pair kept cumming until they fall over and embrace. The two kiss and Sean looks at Raymond's now limp cock, cum still dripping out. "Looks like my little bro made a mess in me~" Sean said rubbing his stomach. The amount of cum in him made him look pregnant. "Yeah, I'm glad he was cock blocking us for so long, that release was amazing!" Raymond said stroking his cock.

All of a sudden Raymond's dick started moving a bit on his own.

"Uh oh, looks like Tony woke up babe!" Raymond snickered.

Sean bent over and gave Tony a little kiss on the tip. "Sorry little bro, your new body is amazing so you are gonna stay like that! At least until you made up for all the times you cock blocked us!"

Sean and Raymond snickered as they prepare for round two.

Tony stayed as Raymond's dick for several weeks where the pair fucked several times a day.

[disneyprincemuke]

a feeling so peculiar * fem!driver

the new season is finally starting and it doesn't start out as great as she'd expected

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: whatever is on the masterlist for the 2025 season is all i'm going to write for the 2025 season (i think) and it's all angst so sry in advance

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

for starters, she’s never been shy of being on the receiving end of bad news. or devastating news, or ones that feel earth-shattering.

she knows that because growing up in a male-dominated scene has prepared her for that. people used to tell her to give it up because she wouldn’t get anywhere with it, or not to get her hopes up expecting something from a place where she’s clearly not wanted.

but she’s made it this far to formula 1. with her best friends.

her first year in the sport, she climbed to a mere 6th place and ended 4th in her sophomore year. just months ago when the 2024 season had wrapped up, she was on top of the world. a woman in the top 5 of the driver’s championship — it’s definitely something.

to her, she expected that the only way was up.

she could not have been more wrong about that.

the lights have just gone out, the cars on the grid have just skidded off for the evening and she’s… in the garage? in liam’s garage, to be exact.

noise-cancelling headphones on her ears as she stares dreamily into the screen of data of liam’s car. realistically, she should be helping out because she’s always been big on numbers, but not today. something didn’t feel right.

she’d been so excited all winter break to get back into the car, hopping from all the adrenaline and glory she put in her pocket from the year before. only for her car to have an irreversible problem that would force her out of the race before it even began.

she didn’t even have a chance to participate in the first race of the season. no way to shut down all of the unwanted background noise of the critics of her involvement still in the sport.

“hey.” she feels a bump against her hip, flinching at the sudden intrusion of her thoughts. “brought you ice cream.”

her eyes flutter close and a sigh of relief passes her lips. she smiles and takes a small cup into her hands. “i was wondering where you’d run off to.”

matt grins. “you looked pretty upset so i went ahead and got you some ice cream. does it at least make you feel a little better?”

“yeah, a little,” she says softly, pursing her lips. “thank you.”

but there’s still a yearning in her chest to be the one in the car to race tonight. that’s not fair — how come liam gets to race this weekend and she doesn’t?

she thought about politely asking for his car, but she couldn’t get herself to do that to him. he’s now become one of her best friends after all.

“rocky.”

she tilts her head at the call of her name, turning around to meet a familiar pair of eyes. one that she’s honestly been avoiding all day from the turnout of the weekend.

sebastian had been the one to break the news to her: that she wouldn’t be able to participate in the race due to a fault in the car. she had simply nodded while tears formed in her eyes and turned to walk away from him.

if you were to ask sebastian, the lack of a response from her scared him.

“ice cream?” the girl offers with a small smile, extending her hand towards him.

sebastian glances down at the ice cream before lifting his hand to reveal a cup of himself. “matt got me a cup too,” he admits with a small grin. “i just wanted to check if you’re okay. with the car and the pulling out of the race…”

she smiles politely, lips pressed into a thin line. what exactly is she supposed to say to someone who doesn’t really have anything to do with the development of the car? well, he does have involvement in it — being a retired world champion warrants that kind of valuable input — but she hardly believes it’s his fault.

“it’s okay,” she says softly, feeding herself another spoonful of ice cream. she blinks as her answer registers in her head. she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i mean– i’m okay. it’s just one race.” she glances at matt, standing next to her. “right?”

matt blinks at her. caught off-guard by her sudden want of his opinion; he’s an actor, not a race car driver. he only knows more about one of the two and it’s the answer that his girlfriend wants to hear. so he nods, “right.”

she turns back to sebastian. “a little frustrating,” she shrugs, “but things like this happen. that’s what you always say.”

sebastian smiles. “you learn quick, kid,” he pats her head endearingly. “that’s a good grasp of the concept. you’ll be back on the track next week good as new, i promise.”

she nods, forcing herself to swallow down the words that sebastian spoke to her. but there’s a churning in her stomach that she cannot seem to ignore as she feels her appetite come to a halt suddenly.

she huffs softly as she turns back to the screen. things like this happen, she repeats in her head. surely it can’t get any worse than this.

so it apparently can get worse.

she sits in the car slightly longer than she needs, eyes staring intensely at the steering wheel in her hands.

something’s not right, something’s off. something doesn’t feel okay.

she wants to blame something — rather someone — that isn’t the car. perhaps, she’s suddenly become the problem without her knowledge? it feels like something has shifted in the air recently because nothing seems to go her way anymore.

“is everything okay?”

she flinches at the sudden voice that fills her ears, reminded that she’s still sitting in her car in parc ferme. “yes,” she answers softly at first, “yeah. i’m okay. sorry. it was just a long race. i’m quite exhausted.”

“copy. let me know if you need help, okay? or if you need to talk. it was a tough race.”

a finish out of the points feels so foreign to her. to be two races into the new season and not be in the top 10 of the driver’s championship. this time last year, she was at least in the top 8 in the standings by the second race of the season.

not this time.

but a slow start isn’t so unheard of for her. it feels like the only thing she can do now is hope that everything gets better eventually. it can’t stay like this all year, right?

when she does arrive at her garage, though, it seems that sebastian is not the only one concerned about her first finish out of the points in almost a year. a crowd has formed in her garage, her friends all staring at her cautiously as they await to see the big reaction that they’ve been expecting from her.

“what?” she asks softly, putting her helmet down on one of the vacant tables. “why are you all staring at me like that?”

the silence doesn’t stop. eyes dart all over the garage, some avoiding her gaze and some staring right at her every couple of seconds.

logan is the first to step forward; the boost from mick prompting an annoyed click of his tongue as he throws his arms into the air. “you uh,” logan blinks at her, “didn’t finish in the points today. how are you feeling?”

she blinks back at him. “i’m,” she trails off and catches oscar’s stare, to which he immediately looks away, “okay?” she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you guys okay? you’re acting kind of… weird.”

her friends’ consideration for her feelings during this trying time is valid. once upon a time, she couldn’t handle the outcome of her not finishing in the points. she just had — has — so much to prove.

but it’s just one time out of her many races.

liam smiles. “we’re just concerned.”

“well your concern is concerning,” she laughs sheepishly, now tearing the velcro from her neck and unzipping her race suit. “i’m 22 — i can handle my emotions when i finish outside of the points. also, not my first time.”

a lie. she actually wants to start throwing things around. perhaps the steering wheel since it’s the only part of the car that she could actually detach and yank around, unlike others.

but it’s just one race.

“yeah, but we’re just saying,” mick speaks with a smile, “if you need to scream and cry and vent because you were out of the points — you can talk to us.”

“i won’t even take it personally if it was because of the team orders,” liam adds with a grin. “you know what? i’ll even scream with you.”

there’s only one person she wants to scream with right now, and it’s the only person that isn’t directly involved in whatever the hell this is.

“as will i,” logan presses his lips together, “i feel like i need to scream into the void until my lungs give out actually.”

she runs a hand through her hair. “i’m okay,” she holds her hands in the air to stop any more chatter from her friends who decided they know her better than herself. “let’s freshen up and regroup at the mclaren camp. ice cream, right? maybe dinner? oscar made podium — we need to celebrate!”

oscar shakes his head, taking a step forward. “we really don’t have to. it’s okay, it’s not even a big deal.”

“no,” she says firmly, head snapping over to the australian. oscar flinches back at the way she’d turn to him with his hand pressed against his chest. it’s silly that after all these years, he still tries to minimise achievements when she’s not had the share of the glory. “i’ll see you guys in a bit. 40 minutes?” she looks around. “where’s matt?”

“in my garage getting ice cream,” mick smiles. “40 minutes, right?”

“yes,” she mutters, quickly dismissing them as she heads for the exit to the paddocks. “i’ll see you then.”

the air feels thick when she steps into the paddocks. the whispers are louder than they used to be and the stares are boring holes into her again.

a heavy sigh passes her lips as she picks up her feet into a run, heading straight for her racing home. she just needs to be alone; be by herself.

because surely, it can’t get worse than this.

right?

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[diazsdimples]

Prompt 2! coming back for another kiss + BuckTommy

BUCKTOMMY MY BELOVED okay okay I got this

Buck was not sulking.

He doesn't sulk. He's a grown man of 30-something, with an equally grown 40-something boyfriend (although calling Tommy his boyfriend makes him feel like he's in high school again), so sulking doesn't play a huge part of his day to day life. They're mature. They talk about things.

Except today, Buck is pouting a little. And in his defence, he's allowed to. This is the first time him and Tommy's shifts haven't overlapped perfectly to give them at least 24 hours where they're both off, and Buck is not pleased.

They're spooning in bed together, the early morning August sun streaming in through the windows of Buck's loft, and Tommy has one arm circled around Buck's waist and the other under his neck, pressing small but loving kisses into his shoulder.

"Evan, what's going on? You've been quiet all morning."

Buck sighs. "Nothing I just - I'm gonna miss you," he says quietly, pulling the sheet up to his face so it muffles his voice. Tommy brushes another kiss to the back of Buck's neck and Buck snuggles further into his arms. "This is the longest we've gone without seeing each other between shifts."

Tommy pulls Buck even closer to him and whispers "I'm sorry baby, I know."

They lay in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the peace and quiet before Tommy's alarm is set to go off. Tommy rubs his hand over Buck's chest and down his arm. He feels Buck tense and relax as his fingers drag across his skin, and he presses another kiss to the back of his neck.

"I can cancel my shift today, call in sick," he murmurs, his hand resting on Buck's forearm.

"Don't be stupid," Buck snorts, "they'd see through that in a second."

"Okay well, maybe I can just call out sick tomorrow."

"Tommy, stop," Buck turns over in Tommy's arms to face him, and gives him a soft smile, "you don't have to do that. I'm being dramatic, I'll survive."

"Hey," Tommy leans forward and presses his lips against Buck's forehead, then down his nose, "if I'm being honest, I've kinda been looking forward to the chance to miss you."

Buck blinks and tilts his head back to look at Tommy. "What do you mean?"

"I just -" Tommy looks away from Buck, a small blush rising to his cheeks, "I've never had to miss someone before. It's kinda nice, you know? Having someone I care so much about that I can't bear the thought of being away from."

Buck looks at Tommy, his face open and his eyes shining, and a wide smile stretches across his face. He pulls Tommy into a hug, their bodies pressed against each other, and kisses the side of his head. This thing with Tommy hasn't been going on long - maybe 4 months - but Buck is already beginning to feel more for Tommy than he's felt for any other of his past relationships. He's always been an all-or-nothing type of person, and with Tommy it's no different.

Tommy presses another kiss to Buck's shoulder, and Buck hums contentedly. "You wanna make the most of these last few minutes?"

Tommy lifts his head up, his eyes darkening, and a wicked grin spreads across his face. He rolls himself over so that he's above Buck, and kisses him, their mouths moving together in sync. Tommy trails his hand down Buck's stomach, fingers running over his abs and curling in the light dusting of blond hairs just below Buck's navel. Buck groans into Tommy's mouth, his tongue running over his teeth and he can feel Tommy smirk into the kiss.

"Don't tease me," Buck whimpers, kissing Tommy with more fervour, and Tommy just chuckles.

"'M not teasing," he counters, kissing down Buck's jaw sloppily. "Not if I plan to follow through."

Buck grabs his chin and pulls him up for another bruising kiss, their lips making slick, wet noises as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

"Is teasing, if you're just gonna -"

They're cut off as Tommy's alarm blares, ringing through the room. Buck groans and Tommy rests his forehead against his with a sigh.

"I gotta go, sweetheart," Tommy says as he rolls over, silencing his alarm with a swipe of his forefinger. He looks genuinely regretful as he pulls the covers off himself and begins to get dressed.

Buck swallows back a lump in his throat and props himself up on his elbow to watch. "I know. You go, save some lives. I'll be here when you get back."

Tommy smiles, buttoning his shirt and doing up his belt, and he walks over to the bed, leaning over to cup Buck's face in his hands and kissing him gently.

"I'll call you, yeah?"

"Yeah," Buck says, "text me when you can, I want to know you're okay."

Tommy nods, his thumb brushing over Buck's cheekbone, and Buck leans into the touch, barely able to contain his whine as Tommy pulls away.

"Tommy, wait!" Buck calls as Tommy crosses the loft, pausing just before the top step. He turns around and Buck throws his arms out in front of him, making grabby hands and pouting, pleading with his eyes.

Tommy laughs - he knows exactly what Buck's asking for - and strides back to the bed, taking Buck's face in his hands once more and giving him another kiss, this one just a bit more heated. He pulls back, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on Buck's cheekbones, and gives him a wink.

"See you later, Evan."

"Be safe," Buck whispers.

Tagging some Bucktommy mutuals

@theotherbuckley @bidisasterevankinard @watchyourbuck @wikiangela @loveyouanyway (if anyone wants to be added to my Bucktommy taglist pls lmk)

Make 'em swoon prompts!