#so like yeah bones fucking it up that fucking bad???? that he’s got a smile on his face ??????

[lady-tortilla-chip]

No cuz WHY would bones do this to us WHY would they completely wreck the vibe of Dazai’s response to realizing Chuuya is there? And that Fyodor was actually using him?

[rafecameronssl4t]

Gold, Coffee, and Mabel || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: based on s3 ep 7 with that scene above except it includes reader and Mabel 🥰🥰

Warnings: swearing, other than that fluff!!!

Word count: 1,036

A/n: yeah I procrastinated and wrote this in like 5 mins

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"And you're sure this guy’s good?" Barry asks, his voice tinged with doubt as he glances sideways at Rafe, who walks beside him, hands casually stuffed in his pockets. They round the corner, and Rafe hums in response, clearly unconcerned.

"I mean, we’ve got a lot of people to see today," Rafe adds, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t even look at Barry, his gaze sweeping over the street with anticipation. It’s clear to Barry that Rafe is in his element, the prospect of a profitable day of gold-selling putting a spring in his step.

Rafe was confident, and that confidence was infectious. Today was going to be a good day. Hell, it was going to be a great day. He could feel it in his bones. Barry opens his mouth to ask about the next move, but the words die on his lips as Rafe suddenly comes to a halt.

Barry nearly collides with him, caught off guard by the abrupt stop. "What the fuck?" Barry blurts out, confusion etched on his face. Rafe doesn’t answer, his focus now entirely on a woman sitting at an outdoor table at a nearby café.

Without a word, he strides over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning down to kiss her, leaving Barry standing there like an idiot. It’s only when he sees the way Rafe's lips curve into a familiar smile that Barry realises who the woman is. It’s you.

“What are you doing here?” Rafe asks, his voice softening, a warm smile spreading across his face as he takes in the sight of you and Mabel. The hard edge that usually defines Rafe’s tone melts away, replaced by something warmer, gentler. You glance up at him, a bright smile lighting up your features.

"Having brunch with Mom," you reply adjusting Mabel so that Rafe can scoop her up into his arms. He does so effortlessly, his movements tender as he cradles his daughter against his chest.

Barry, still trying to piece together what's happening, blurts out, “Shit, almost didn't recognise ya-” , but Rafe cuts him off with a sharp look. "Language, Barry," Rafe says, his voice low and warning, a stark contrast to the affectionate tone he just used with you.

Barry throws his hands up in mock surrender. "My bad, my bad," he mutters, glancing at you with an apologetic smile. You chuckle at his usual antics. "Maybe because of my hair," you say, running a hand through your freshly coloured locks, your eyes bright as you wait for Barry's reaction.

"Looks good," Barry says, genuine in his compliment. You thank him with a nod, your eyes crinkling in the corners. As Rafe settles into a chair, Mabel perched contentedly on his lap, Barry shifts his weight, reminding himself of the job they’re supposed to be doing.

“Country club, don’t we need to get goin'?” he prods, noticing how comfortable Rafe seems, his focus entirely on entertaining Mabel, who giggles at his playful antics. You smile at the sight, feeling a warmth in your chest before you turn to Barry. “Busy day ahead?” you ask, a knowing glint in your eye.

Barry shoots a glance at Rafe, who seems completely absorbed in his role as a father, oblivious to the conversation and Barry’s questioning gaze. “Uh, yeah. Apparently so,” Barry replies with a chuckle, still not entirely sure how this unexpected stop fits into their tight schedule.

“I’m just going to order some coffee for my mom, I'll be two seconds,” you say, standing up from the table. "I’ll come with you. Might as well grab a coffee while we’re here," Rafe says, rising to his feet. He looks down at Mabel, then back at Barry with a grin. “Mind holdin' her for a minute?”

Before Barry can protest, Rafe is already handing Mabel over to him. Barry’s eyes widen in panic as Mabel, with her big blue eyes, stares up at him with a curious expression. He stands there stiff as a board, awkwardly patting her back and trying to figure out how to hold a baby without looking like a complete idiot.

As Rafe and you disappear into the café, Barry glances nervously at the door, silently begging one of you to come back quickly. At first, Mabel seems fine, but then her bottom lip starts to tremble. Before Barry can react, she lets out a wail, her cries escalating quickly. “Fuck—shit! No, no, no, please don’t cry,” Barry mutters under his breath, his heart racing as he tries to bounce her gently, but her cries only grow louder.

Just as Mabel’s wails reach a peak, you emerge from the café with Rafe right behind you. Relief floods Barry’s face, but it’s quickly replaced by anxiety as you approach, your eyebrows raised in a mix of concern and amusement.

“Did you make my daughter cry?” you ask, taking Mabel in your arms, though there’s a teasing lilt to your voice that Barry is too flustered to pick up on. Barry looks like a deer caught in headlights, especially under Rafe’s intense gaze. “What? No! I swear, I didn’t do anything—” Barry stammers, his face flushed, but you laugh, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“I’m just messing with you. She’s probably just hungry,” you say, glancing at your watch before pulling out Mabel’s bottle. Barry lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck as the tension slowly eases from his shoulders.

Rafe watches the interaction with a smirk, clearly amused by Barry’s discomfort. “Well, we should get going,” Rafe finally says, leaning in to give you a kiss before gently pressing his lips to Mabel’s forehead. She’s already drinking her bottle, her little hands reaching up to grab at Rafe’s chin, making you chuckle softly at the adorable sight.

"I’ll see you at home later," Rafe says warmly, his eyes locking with yours as he leans in for one last kiss. He gives Mabel a gentle smile before glancing back at you, a lingering look full of affection. With a final nod, he turns to Barry, the smile still playing on his lips, as they head off to make a shit ton of money.

[shy-writer-999]

All Bark, No Bite?

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: Mostly smut. ~4500 words. Strawhat reader (afab) x Ace, who is visiting the ship for a while. When Ace finds someone who can match his banter, what goes down? ( ´ ω ` )

CW: dirty talk, fingering, P in V, prone bone.

All Bark, No Bite?

The flirtation with Ace had been getting ridiculous recently. You’d both been dancing around the idea of fucking each other senseless for weeks. Part of the fun was the teasing—Ace felt like he was going to explode any time he saw you, and his presence stoked a fire in your core any time he was around. The banter itself was enough to make him hard and you wet, respectively. And sure, you’d make out a couple of times, he’d gotten handsy (with your eager consent), he even fingered you once—but these events happened once every blue moon, and your brief trysts never got past that threshold.

At one point the suggestive back-and-forth and lingering touches transformed into shameless horniness. Any chance he’d get, Ace would make you blush, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and then he’d turn around and talk about how he was going to fuck you into oblivion someday. You were counting down the hours until the perfect moment presented itself, and, of course, it did.

You shot Ace one too many lust-filled glances one night, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. You were wearing the shorts that you knew drove him rabid, so short that he got a tiny peek of your ass cheeks (Sanji loved the shorts too, coincidentally). Combined with your tank top and the shape of your breasts more visible because you weren’t wearing a bra… Ace could feel himself going feral.

He was sitting next to you at the dinner table, while the rest of the crew was rowdily laughing at Luffy almost choking on a chicken bone because he had scarfed it down too fast. Leaning to the side, Ace murmured something your ear. At the same time, his hand crept under the table and squeezed your thigh.

His comment wasn’t completely out of left field—earlier that night, he complimented your shorts, and you responded something along the lines of “Oh yeah? Wanna see more?” He had rolled his eyes at you in the moment, saying (sarcastically) “mmmhmm, sure” but afterwards he was shaking his head and laughing at himself over how viscerally down bad he was for you.

So, when he leaned over and whispered the following comment in your ear, you giggled. “How much you wanna bet that I’ll fuck you better than anyone has before?”

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. “Fat chance, Ace. In your dreams.”

“What, you don’t want to?” He feigned surprise and hurt, keeping his voice low and hushed.

You gave him an annoyed look and cocked your head slightly. He knew you wanted to. It was fucking obvious.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Ace, it’s just that I think you’re all bark and no bite. Best dick I’ve ever had? Yeah right.”

A grin took over his face, nose scrunching up just slightly, those adorable freckles winking at you. “You want to find out?”

“I know you want to.”

Ace got up without a word and went to wash his now empty plate. You were puzzled at the lack of response, staring at his back, annoyed, until he turned and flicked his chin in the direction of the hallway. Message received. He put his plate on the drying rack and then sauntered down the hallway in question, disappearing as he turned a corner.

You got up and took care of your plate, following in Ace’s footsteps from a couple minutes before. As you left the dining area you sent Robin and Nami a small wave. Robin smiled and Nami gave you a wink. They knew they would hear every detail later.

When you walked down the hallway, you figured Ace would either be in your cabin or his (guest) cabin. Your door was open, light on just how you left it, Ace he was nowhere to be seen. So, he must be in his own cabin. But as you approached, you could see that his door was ajar, and it was pitch black inside. When you reached the room, you cracked the door some more and peered in. “Ace? Where the fu—”

Mid-question, a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed your wrist, pulling you. You couldn’t see anything—the shutter on the room’s porthole was pulled shut, the light turned off. The only thing you could feel as you groped around in the dark was Ace’s hand on your wrist, which pulled you closer to what you assumed was the bed. You could hear the muted sounds of blankets rustling in front of you. He let go of your hand.

“C’mere.” His playful voice was a couple feet in front of you.

“I’m trying to, but I can’t fucking see anything!” You snapped, fumbling around in front of you until your foot hit his and you toppled over. He caught you by your waist and guided you down to straddle his lap.

“If you would have waited a minute, I would have given you a light.” He flashed a finger, a small flame burning on the tip. You saw his gorgeous smile just barely before he extinguished it. As his grip grew tighter on your waist, he purred, his face centimeters away from yours. “I want you.”

“I know you do, Ace” you laughed at him. He knew you well enough by now that he could hear you smiling through your voice.

“Please.” His voice was so sweet and pleading, veiled notes of desire behind his honeyed tone.

Leaning forward, you gave into a temptation that you knew would only lead somewhere hot and steamy (and you had no problem with that). It had been far too long since you locked lips.

You’d never get over how soft his lips were and how good of a kisser he was. While the jury was still out on whether or not he fucked you better than anyone else, you knew for a fact that he kissed you better than anyone else.

The kisses started out tame, but you could tell how badly he wanted more. You cupped the side of his face with one hand and threw your other arm around his neck, pressing your body into his. Ace’s hands around your waist crept down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass—extremely accessible through those short shorts. You could feel his half-chub forming in his shorts, starting to press onto the denim that covered your crotch.

Ace’s tongue parted your lips and explored your mouth. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair and you could feel his erection, fully hard now, starting to slowly grind up into you. He was letting out puffs of air into your mouth, hands kneading your ass, pulling on it. You moved your hands from the nape of his neck and reached for the hem of your tank top. When you peeled it off, you threw it across the room.

Ace was about to start massaging your bare breasts, but you shoved his shoulders so forcefully he fell back onto the covers.

“Feeling feisty, aren’t we?” Ace’s smirk was almost as audible as the smug chuckle he let out.

“Don’t move.” You got off his lap and shimmed out of your shorts and panties. When you had freed yourself of them, you leaned forward to tug on Ace’s shorts and the waistband of his boxer briefs; he helped speed the process along, and pulled off his shirt while he was at it.

Climbing back on the bed, you straddled Ace, cowgirl style, as he watched you from below. You felt like he deserved to get teased a bit, since he had such a big mouth and cock. Adjusting so his cock was laying flat on your lips, you started rubbing up and down it, bare pussy grinding on his shaft. At the same time, you braced yourself on his abdomen with your palms. You used his washboard abs for leverage, to adjust how hard or soft you grinded into him. Ace’s hands alternated between squishing handfuls of your ass to gripping your hips tightly.

Ace took one of his fingers and held it before you, a small flame dancing on his fingertip again. The light cast red tones and shadows on your body—he felt a sense of reverence as he watched you grind on him, head thrown back, like you were something holy, some work of art ripped from the frame of a renaissance painting or a sculpture from classical antiquity brought to life. Your hair, your curves, the way you braced yourself on him, the way your hips rolled ever so slightly to elicit the most pleasure from him… he was in denial about how intensely and ardently he liked you. He was obsessed with you, entranced by you, he couldn’t get you out of his head ever since he started spending time on the ship. Your flirting sessions and the occasional horny tryst were killing him inside because all he wanted was to be close to you. Sure, he wanted to fuck your brains out, but the feeling he got while he admired you in that muted light was something akin to awe. The moment felt surreal. He extinguished the flame.

“Princess, I won’t be able to take much more of that.” His voice was strained.

“I’m just getting started, Ace, sheesh. Don’t get too excited already, big boy.”

The feeling of your clit rubbing up and down, snagging on the head of his cock sent ripples of pleasure through both of you. It was so easy to get off when Ace was underneath you, like putty in your hands. He was trying to keep his groans back, trying to push them down in his throat; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he was enveloped in pleasure after less than five minutes of this. But the precum was already leaking out of him, a fact that did not escape you as you grinded your core on his shaft.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me.” He croaked, his voice was almost hoarse. He wanted to fuck you immediately—either that, or he’d need to finger you or eat you out, ASAP. He couldn’t take five more minutes of this. He was going to cum soon if you kept it up, and if he came before he even got the chance to fuck you, he knew he’d never live it down.

“Oh, you’re falling apart already Ace? Weren’t you just saying you’d fuck me better than anyone I’ve ever been with?” Your tone was scornful, but you knew he’d get off on that. He loved any sort of sass or brattiness, he liked whining and begging, too, and his heart went crazy inside any time you made pathetic and pleading puppy-dog eyes at him.

“So, you just want to rub yourself on my cock forever and you won’t even let me fuck you with it?” Ace always returned your sass tenfold. His deep voice was incredulous and almost mocking you, but for some reason it felt like he was doting on you.

“Mmmmhhmm, Ace, and you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

He finally let out a groan. It was feeling dangerously good. Concerningly good. The slick oozing out of you and coating his shaft wasn’t making things any easier.

Ace squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing in an attempt to fend off the mounting desire-filled craze that was about to overtake him.

“You’ve got about thirty seconds left before I fuck you senseless, darling.” He practically growled at you—his voice sounded different; more desperate, deeper, and gruff.

You quipped back scathingly with a laugh, continuing to glide back and forth on his cock leisurely. “Ace, you’ll cum from me humping your dick before you even get the chance. I’d like to see you try.”

In a split second, everything changed. Because the room was pitch black, the only thing you could go off was the sensation of being thrown around.

Ace grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, almost knocking the wind out of you. Your stomach was flat on the bed now and Ace was on top of you, his cock throbbing, pressing on your ass. His body was almost completely flush with yours, except he was bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His knees were outside of yours, firmly pressing your legs together.

“What was that?” He murmured, close to your ear. “You’d like to see me try?”

You let out a muffled sound, having to pick your head up a bit to be audible amidst the plush covers and blankets. “Yeah, Ace. Try.”

He reached a hand down to push your thighs apart slightly. Combined with you arching your back, he had better access now. He crept his hand down to your core and swiped two fingers through your folds—you were dripping wet, and when his fingers touched your bare folds, your hips bucked inadvertently.

“Now who’s the one gettin’ all worked up, sugar?” He taunted you, repeating his movement down your lips and to your clit a couple more times.

You rolled your eyes, like he could see them. “I’m hardly worked up, Ace. You’ll be able to tell when I am.”

“Oh, is that so?” He teased and slowly inserted his middle finger, his palm coming to rest on your skin. You were so wet that his finger slid in without any resistance. Your walls clenched around him. As he curled his finger and explored your insides, he pressed and roamed, trying to find your sensitive spot.

Now, you were the one trying to stifle your own sounds of pleasure. You feared that you were the one who was all bark and no bite—if his mere finger felt this good inside of you, who knows what it’d feel like when his cock was buried as deep as it could get.

Sure enough, Ace found your g-spot quickly and started relentlessly applying pressure. Your hips jerked up every time he pressed it, and you started to feel so good that your sighs and muffled groans were turning into full-blown mewls. You were one good g-spot press away from moaning his name with reckless abandon.

Based on the way you were squirming and clenching around his finger, Ace could tell that he could make you cum within a couple minutes if he kept going. He was painfully aroused; his cock was aching for friction. He wanted you so bad that it hurt.

He took his finger out and leaned down more, pressing his chest on your back, positioning his cock right at your entrance. He ran his tip up and down through your folds, rubbing it on your clit for a second before returning to tease around your slit.

“Fuck, Ace,” you moaned his name for the first time and he felt his heart stop. “I want it.”

He felt like being a dick. Now that you were under him, sopping wet and moaning his name, he wanted to take his turn playing the part of the bratty tease.

“What was that, pretty? Couldn’t hear you.”

“Fuck,” you groaned in frustration. He was going to drive you insane if he didn’t put his cock in soon. You were dying for it. “Ace, I want you. Now. Please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he started to press his tip through your folds and into your cunt. He was stretching you out and it felt so damn good. Your walls shuddered around him and his cock twitched in response. When he bottomed out, his chest was pressed directly onto your back, weighing you down so much that it was difficult to catch a breath. Ace's weight, his cock, and the feeling of him breathing on your neck all constituted an overwhelming sensation. In that moment, you would have done anything he told you to.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Ace rasped in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. He held still for a moment to feel you pulse around him and listen to your heartbeat below him.

“Ace, move,” you whined. You tried to move your hips up and down, desperate for him to start bringing his cock in and out. You were growing impatient. You could only handle so much teasing before you would start begging pitifully.

Ace obliged your entreaty, dragging his cock out of you slowly and then plunging it back in forcefully. He angled his hips down, getting the deepest possible angle that he could. His body was caging you in, hips pressing into yours. The weight of his body and the angle made you feel tighter and made his cock feel bigger than it already was.

He pulled out again slowly and plunged back in, hard and deep. You yelped and it turned into a moan. “Ace, fuck.”

“Nngghhhh, fuck, Y/N, your pussy is so tight.”

“You—already—said—that,” you struggled to spit out each word as he fucked you.

“I’ll say it as many times as I want,” he smirked in your ear and plunged into you particularly rough. Filthy sounds of pleasure left your mouth as a response. He was fucking you so well that you were beginning to lose touch with reality.

“Do you like that? Do you like when I fuck you like this, sweetheart?” His sugar-coated voice and the pet name went straight to your pussy. Every time he called you one of those adoring names he could feel your cunt pulse around him—your body was telling on you, letting him know how much you liked those affectionate names, even though you would never tell him how much they made your heart flutter.

“Gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t even talk,” he grunted between each word, pulling out slowly and fucking into you franticly the whole time.

You moaned into the sheets in front of you, grabbing handfuls of them and balling them up into your fists. The dirty talk continued from Ace as he got continuously more riled up. He knew you loved it.

“So wet for me, sweetheart,” his voice was rumbling from his chest and into your ear—you could feel it vibrate on your back as he thrusted into you. “Taking it so well. Taking it all for me. So fuckin’ hot.”

As Ace fucked you harder and deeper, he targeted your g-spot, drawing more pleasure from your already dripping cunt. He felt hot and stiff inside of you, and every time his tip and shaft pressed your sensitive spot like it was a button. Your toes curled in ecstasy and your thighs clamped closer together. Each progressive clamp of your thighs let Ace go deeper.

“Tell me how much you like it, baby,” he cooed, breath hot on your ear.

You didn’t know if you’d be able to squawk out a coherent sentence. But you were going to try, or else he would have something else to smirk over.

“F-feels so—so good, Ace, feels like—” your words got caught in your throat and turned into a sort of strangled moan, a noise so primal it made Ace feel like he was going crazy.

“My cock feels so good you can’t even talk? You like it that much?”

You clumsily attempted a nod, stopped by all the covers you were currently getting fucked into. A mewl would have to suffice.

“Aceee, fuck,” the noises were muffled, but Ace knew exactly what you were saying. It fueled him, goaded him into fucking you harder. He wanted you to melt in his touch completely, wanted your eyes to roll back into your head in pleasure. He wondered how good it would feel when you screamed his name and came on his cock. He was determined to find out.

“Your pussy feels so good on my cock, baby, juuussssttt like that.”

Ace slowed his hips down, exercising every bit of discipline he had to glide his cock in and out as slow as possible. For you, this speed was simply unacceptable. You needed more so badly that you were about to scream for it. Was he trying to edge you?

Right as you were going to feebly attempt to snap at him to fuck you better, you realized that he was leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your shoulder blade. He kissed up to your neck, kissed down your back as far as he could reach in this position, showering you in unexpected affection. It made your heart stop for a moment. Sure, he was cheeky and insolent in most interactions (in a way that you liked), but you always suspected that he really did have a soft spot for you. You could see it in his eyes whenever he spoke to you.

Ace slowed down his panting so he could murmur lightly in your ear, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Vivid shades of pink and red started to spread over your cheeks. One of his hands crept towards yours and came to rest on top of it tenderly. You released your fistful of blankets and he intertwined his fingers through yours.

“So gorgeous it hurts,” his breath tickled your ear. He squeezed your hand, fucking you at a snail’s pace.

Holy shit, was Ace… making love to you? Was he funneling his affection towards you, letting you know how much he deeply cherished you, all while fucking your brains out? It seemed like the answer must be yes. Your heart did a flip.

“Ace,” you keened out, your blush and his adoration going to your head. You lifted and turned your head as much as you could amidst the plush blankets, so he could hear you better. “I want you.”

He squeezed your hand. “I know you do.”

Ace sped up his thrusts again, his grunts and groans filling the room along with your sweet sounds of pleasure and the wet sounds from your cunt. His hips rolled, his weight bore down on you, your gummy walls pulsed around his cock—you were both on the verge of orgasm, holding on for dear life. He desperately wanted to make you cum first. The thin façade of bragging rights aside, he just wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to wrench heaven from your core and see you writhe in pleasure from his touch—he wanted the satisfaction of knowing he did that.

Every pass of his cock in and out of you was mind-blowing. Oblivion was approaching, quickly. His pace was becoming haphazard, messy, and frenzied.

“Ace, Ace, I’m—I’m gonna cum, feels too good,” you whined.

“Go for it, doll, wanna feel you cream on my cock.” His voice was barely going in one ear and out the other; it gravelly and deep, coursing through your veins like blood. But you registered it enough to know that he wanted you to let go for him.

One good thrust later and you were riding the wave of all-encompassing pleasure so intensely that you felt like you were going to pass out. You started to squirm—he had brought you to your peak and pushed you over it, into a free fall of desire and bliss with no end in sight. The pitch black of the room emphasized the maddening euphoria crashing through your body, it coaxed sounds out of your mouth that you’d never heard before, ones you didn’t know you could make.

You moaned Ace’s name on repeat—screamed it, almost, and every time Ace heard that noise grace his ears, the coil inside of him tightened. Feeling you writhe under him, feeling you squeeze the ever-living fuck out of his hand, feeling you arch your back and your walls pulse… It was too much.

The coil inside of him went rigid and snapped. Ace convulsed, jerking his hips and bucking them down into you. “Fuuccckkkk, Y/N, fuck.” Pulling out of you with heaving breath, his cock shot milky white ropes that painted your ass and lower back.

Ace felt like he was floating. He came the hardest he ever experienced—he didn’t know it was possible to cum this explosively or feel this good.

He collapsed onto his side and positioned his body next to yours. Your gasps for air and heartbeats were in sync as you both came back to earth. You laid there for a moment.

Ace lit another tiny flame on his finger and studied your face. Your eyes were closed, mouth hanging open, pressed against the bedsheets. Your cheeks were ruddy, lips just as pretty as he remembered.

A smiled dusted your lips as you opened your eyes, half-lidded, to see him inches away from you. Ace’s eyes reflected the small fire burning in between you, his lips curled into that heart-twisting grin that always gave you butterflies.

He extinguished the flame, reached over, and started to pet your back. His hand moved to smooth down your hair. “Hey gorgeous, how you hangin’ in there?”

“Wow.” You exhaled, breathless. A beat of silence passed. “What was all that about?” You were still smiling, blush creeping up your cheeks, threatening to take over your whole face.

“What do you mean, pumpkin?” His tone was puzzled.

“The lovey-dovey stuff...”

“Oh.” He paused. “Don’t you know how much I like you? I may tease you but I really, really like you.”

“Stop it, Ace. You’re making me blush.”

His hand resumed smoothing your hair. It passed down to cup your cheek. He rubbed a circle on your skin with his thumb.

“What’s so wrong with making you blush?”

You didn’t answer. He leaned over to kiss you. Again, you’d never get over how good his lips felt pressed on yours. Any time they met it was electric.

“One second—let me get you cleaned up sweetheart.” Ace got off the bed, grabbed a towel, and wiped his cum off your back. His touch was soft, treating your body like it was precious. He got back into bed.

“Come over here.” Ace’s voice was tender.

You turned onto your side and scooted closer. He threw an arm over you and held you to his chest. You cozied up to him for a long time. His chin rested on top of your head, you curled into his chest, heard his heartbeat, and felt the weight of his arm squeezing you closer.

After a moment he started to chuckle.

“Ace, what? What are you laughing about?” The sass started to trickle back into your voice.

“So, did I fuck you better than anyone has before? Am I still all bark and no bite?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I guess you’re all bite.”

“Mmmm, that’s what I thought.” He kissed the top of your head and held you close, with that cocky grin plastered all over his face.

(✿◠‿◠) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚ (*^_^*)

thank u so much for reading!! MAD shoutout to @acesluvrxx for the very detailed, and dare i say magnificent, request!

here's my masterlist, if you're interested!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Go Home - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 2667>

What. A. Fucking. Day. 

You were running around the Ferrari hospitality, with practically no energy after being up all night. The fact that you had even made it into work was an absolute miracle, but you thought that doing something with yourself might help you take your mind off of how you were feeling. 

It was safe to say that it didn't. If anything, it just made it worse. Your body felt more fatigued the more you moved, and plenty of people had noticed. They all asked if you were feeling OK, and you always responded with a meek 'yeah, yeah, just feeling a little under the weather.'

One of the many people to notice this was Charles. He had seen that you weren't your usual, perky self, and that concerned him slightly. After seeing you around for a few hours, not getting noticeably better, Charles took it upon himself to approach you. 

You had just walked out of Fred's office after delivering some papers, and he was stood in the corridor, seemingly waiting to go in. "Hey Charles," you greeted, sending him a small yet weak smile. You didn't want him to be the next person to ask how you were feeling, but you could sense it coming anyway.

"Hey, you OK? You're not looking too good..." he sheepishly said, not wanting to upset you, but still wanting to show that he cared about your current condition. 

"Oh thanks, Charles," you rolled your eyes, walking away from him. Instantly, you felt bad that you had reacted like that, knowing he was just trying to be nice and knowing that your attitude was uncalled for.

But, you really weren't feeling like making kind smalltalk with someone. You weren't in any mood to turn around and apologise either, so you just figured you would say sorry to him when you were feeling better. 

Shortly after, you heard footsteps behind you in the corridor. Charles knew you didn't mean it and it was just because you were feeling shitty, so he didn't take it to heart. If anything, it made him even more worried for you and whether you should actually be at work or not. 

"Y/N, hey, no, wait," he called after you, speeding up so he could catch up to you. "You really don't look too good, are you sure you don't need anything? I've got some extra time if you want some help with some stuff." he said, hoping that you'd allow him to take some of the load off of you so that you could relax for a bit. 

"No, no," you declined, thinking that he had something better to be doing with his time. He was just as busy as you were, if not more. Plus, you didn't want to give him whatever it was you had just in case it would hinder his racing ability. 

"Are you sure? I really don't mind, it'd be-" he started, but you cut him off with a sigh. 

"Charles, I've got it, OK? I do appreciate the offer, really, but you're just as busy as I am." you interjected, turning around and walking off from him again. Charles huffed to himself, unsure of what to do. 

He was certain that you running around and working yourself to the bone wasn't what was going to help your illness, but he also knew that you were stubborn as a mule and it'd take a hell of a lot of convincing to get you to change your mind.

For the time being, he resigned himself to the fact that you were going to carry on working. He'd keep an eye on you for the rest of the day, and if you got any worse, he would simply have to force you to go home. 

An hour or so later, Charles spotted you in the cafeteria, pushing your food around your plate with your fork. His heart dropped slightly as he saw your face. You had paled in colour, your nose and cheeks contrasting against your skin as they were as red as your polo that you had on. 

He leant against the wall with his arms crossed for a short while, his eyes glued on you. Your shoulders were hunched, one of your arms wrapped around your stomach. He spotted the subconscious, self-soothing gesture, and his hard expression softened. 

You really didn't look good, not at all. Definitely not good enough to be staying at work and slaving away for the rest of the day. Slowly, Charles stepped towards your table, the other people around knowing that it'd take a miracle to convince you to chill it out. 

"Hey, can I sit?" he quietly said, gesturing to one of the chairs at your otherwise empty table. You craned your neck to look up at him, leaning back and taking your arm away from your stomach. 

"Yeah, course," you nodded, watching as he pulled out the chair next to you and sat down on it. With one elbow on the table, Charles rested his chin on his hand. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the question obviously leading. It was with an expectant answer, an answer consisting of you telling him how horrendous you felt and how you needed to go home. 

However, you replied with a simple, "I'm fine." Charles groaned, running a hand through his chocolate locks. 

"You're not fine, OK? Look at you, you look dead on your feet," he said, frustration seeping through his words. He never understood why you were always so stubborn, especially when it came to your own wellbeing. 

Going home was clearly the best option for you and your health, but you refused to just give up your pride and perfect work-attendance record and go home. "I'm just feeling a bit rough, it's nothing serious," you tried to reassure him, knowing he wasn't going to back down on the matter easily. 

"Nothing serious? You're pale as a ghost, you clearly have 0 energy, and it is just obvious that you feel absolutely awful!" he snapped, unable to keep his temper in check. He wasn't snapping out of anger, and you knew that. 

He was snapping out of pure consideration for you and comfort. Deep down, he knew that you were hurting and in no condition to be there, but that didn't stop his temperament from clocking out for a moment. 

He saw the dejected look on your face, the softness creeping back into his features. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Getting mad at you wouldn't make you listen to him, he knew that, but he still wanted to try and convince you.

"Please, just go back to the hotel. I'm worried about you, you know?" Charles said, hoping that by revealing his feelings, it might incline you to listen to him. "I'll make sure all of your work is done, I promise. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"But I've got so much to do, and I don't want to force someone else to work that I can-" 

"No, don't tell me you can do it. You can't do it. And I won't let you," Charles cut you off, squeezing your hand. "I'll take you back, make sure you're comfy, and I will have it all taken care of." he repeated.

For once, you were actually considering doing what he said. Your body was crying out for you just to retire to your bed for the remainder of the day and just rest. Sleep off the sickness and come back to work your usual self. 

There was the problem of your work, but you truly did trust that Charles would have it taken care of. He wasn't the kind of guy to make promises that he couldn't keep, and he would make sure your work got done on time and as it was supposed to be done. 

He took your silence as a yes, since you'd usually give him attitude if you were refusing his requests. He hated seeing you like this: tired, sick and downright dejected. A small part of him was screaming at him to just wrap you up in his arms and take care of you until you were back to your usual self.

In some ways, you being like this hurt him too. He didn't like it when you pushed yourself this far and risked your own health and wellbeing just for the sake of a job. Yes, he did admire it, but his dislike for it heavily out-weighed his recognition of the trait. 

"When was the last time you ate something? And don't bother lying to me," he sternly asked, and you knew it wasn't time to try and fool him with a clearly false answer.

"Yesterday. Well, more specifically, last night." you quietly told him, his eyes searching your face for any hint of deception. Yet, he found nothing but sincerity, and the pointed look in his eyes mellowed out once again. 

"And what did you have?"

"Just some soup and crackers from room service," you told him, and the sigh he let out was audible and slightly disappointed. 

"Jesus Christ... you're running on fumes," he mumbled, "How much did you sleep last night?" Charles asked, even though he could tell it wasn't much from your sluggish posture and dark under eye circles. 

"I can't tell you how much exactly but it wasn't much at all," you told him, now actually looking forward to going to bed for the rest of the day. 

"Come on, we're going. I will sort everything," he reassured, standing from his seat and offering a hand out to you. You took his hand, letting him help you up. Charles felt a small pang of satisfaction ripple through him when you allowed him to assist you. 

Silently, he led you out of the paddock and to the parking lot, where he navigated you over to his car and sat you down in it. You were slightly worried about getting fired for just randomly leaving, but if Charles asked Fred, pretty much anything was possible. 

The car ride was wordless while he manoeuvred through the streets, until he pulled up in a spare parking space near the hotel. Charles helped you out of the car and all the way up to your room. 

Now that he was close up to you, he saw how gaunt your expression was. He really didn't want to just leave you here to fend for yourself, since he didn't think you had the strength or energy to do so properly. 

"Can I come in with you?" he asked once you had reached the door to your room. You nodded, unlocking the door and gesturing him inside. To say that you had been in such a state, the room was in fairly good order. 

You hadn't made the bed, which was understandable given how bad your morning must have been, but the rest of the room was relatively clean. "You sit, I'll get you something to change into," he told you, walking up to the wardrobe. 

Opening it, it was mostly just your teamwear since you were only there for work and wouldn't have the time for much tourism. Rifling through your clothes, he found a soft pair of shorts and one of your Ferrari hoodies that he thought looked comfy enough. 

Turning around, he saw you already shuffled under the covers and sinking into the pillows. "You comfy?" he smiled, the sight of you lead there making his heart beat a little quicker. He really didn't want to leave you here - he wanted to stay by your side where he could make sure you were OK.

"Arms up," he softly said, helping you to sit up. "Can I?" he requested, asking for your permission as his hands hovered over the buttons of your polo. You nodded, and he quickly unbuttoned them and pulled the shirt off over your head.

If he wasn't focused on how sick you were, he would be practically salivating at how stunning you were, but now wasn't the time for that, and he understood. You were vulnerable, and he would be pretty damn pissed with himself if he allowed himself to think like that.

Pulling the hoodie on over your body, he reached a hand around your neck to pull your ponytail out. "I'll let you do those yourself," he gently chuckled, placing the shorts next to you and facing away from you around to give you some privacy. 

Charles heard the sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric, finally followed by the sound of you shimmying back under the covers. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to you. 

"No, no, I should be good," you told him, and Charles wasn't buying it for a second. It was at that point where the part of him that was compelling him to stay by your side and take care of you, protect you, love you won out. 

"You do realise that I'm not going anywhere?" 

"Charles, no, you're busy and-"

"Sweetheart, no. You need me, they'll be able to do it, I'm sure," he told you, and when you didn't argue back, he really grew concerned. Even when you were sick, you were normally able to bite back and give him some sass back. 

The fact that you had just accepted your fate worried him, even if he was relieved that he wouldn't have to try and convince you again. "I'll get you a water and some medicine, and then I'll sit here for the rest of the day or until you get better. Whichever happens first," he told you. 

Charles didn't miss the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips, and he was glad that he could bring a bit of brightness to your day. Disappearing into the bathroom, he filled up a glass with water and rummaged around in the cabinets for some paracetamol. 

"Now you're going to take these, and then you're going to sit back and rest and let me dote on you."  he said with a slightly teasing tone, handing you the two small, white pills and watched as you popped them into your mouth before lifting the glass of water to your lips and encouraging you to take a sip. 

Once you had drank around half of the glass, Charles left it on the bedside table. "I want you to try and get some sleep, OK?" he said.

"Yeah, sure," you agreed, snuggling down into the covers. He hated having you just lie there when he felt that you needed his physical support as well as his emotional support. Just getting to hold you would surely make you feel better, and him too.

"Hey sweetheart?"

"Yeah? You OK?" you asked, and he couldn't help but grin. Even when you were feeling horrendous, you were still making sure he was OK. 

"I'm fine, yeah. Can I just... can I hold you? Or hug you? Or anything? I just feel so useless," he mumbled, instantly feeling like an idiot. But, before he could get ahead of himself, you responded. 

"Be my guest," you told him. Charles moved under the covers and then next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, gently tugging you towards him to that you could rest your head on his chest. 

You could hear the steady pound of his heartbeat, and it was a very soothing sound. Charles let out a sigh of contentment, glad that he was able to provide some semblance of comfort. He felt your weight against him as you relaxed, meaning he was doing his job right. 

Despite you feeling no where near 100%, he was glad that he could be the person who you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with and the person that would take care of you. You trusted him, and that was more than enough.

Plus, he'd be happy with cuddles anyday, whether you were sick or not.  

A/N - Hey loves! Hoping you're all doing well! I do have a little thing for the 5 year anniversary of Charles' 2019 Monza win, but it is nothing special. It is just a lil ol' something that I whipped up. Not really a story, but hey. It'll do. Have a wonderful day/night!💖

|masterlist|

[aemndxx]

𝓇.cameron. ┆ princess treatment.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ i srsly looove fem!reader callin' rafe 'dad' in my lil' stories. !!! mwahahahh . <3

princess treatment comes naturally to somebody like rafe cameron; who loves nothing more than to spoil you with his love, attention, and money. he adores how sweet you're, and he genuinely doesn't think you have a bad bone in your body—too angelic and sweet and naïve to be deceitful.

rafe cameron loves the sweet, gentle, little demure smiles you give him, all doll eyed and misty from the rough, downright nasty fucking he'd just given you—your long, mink lashes fluttering dreamily (and wetly) as you both come down from your explosive highs, with you panting gently and sweetly whimpering into his hard, broad, sweaty chest—not that the cameron man minded, he loved having you close, perhaps, sometimes… too close.

"gon' make you my lil' wifey someday, yea?" rafe mumbles casually, his voice raspy and deep, with a slight, teasing drawl to it, a bit of that rich boy, nasally tone of his that always kept you weak in the knees coming through.

you were always a shy girl at heart, his sweet little baby, he'd do anything you'd ask and more.

"y-yeah?" you hiccup shakily, softly pawing gently at his hard, bare chest, gently scratching your freshly manicured nails down his defined pectorals, feeling the ridges of taut, strong muscles underneath his warm, sweaty flesh.

rafe nodded, leaning over you completely and claiming your already kiss-swollen lips into another deep, passionate, possessive kiss, full of teeth and tongue and lots of rafe's saliva—coating your mouth in the most delicious, sinful ways of his ownership over you.

shyly, hesitantly, you reach down between your two bodies, bumping against his half-hard shaft, earning a low, warning growl to rumble against your boyfriend's chest.

"need more, don't ya', kid?" rafe taunts, before easily gripping himself by the base of his drenched cock, giving himself two quick, firm pumps of his large hand while mindlessly knocking your dainty one outta his way, knowing you liked to constantly touch things.

swiftly, he presses the now leaking tip against your abused, fluttering, dripping fuckhole, before pressing into you with a soft, deep grunt, already feeling those euphoric flames licking at the sensitivity of his heavy balls, positioning himself above you so he wouldn't crush you—but knowing you, his sweet girl, he already knows how you like to be roughly manhandled by him, like a pretty, innocent little dolly.

"dad!" you mewl femininely, a cute, glossy pout curling on your pretty lips, making them appear extra kissable, causing rafe to blink three times frantically, already feeling the blood from his head rushing down to his swelling cock, before he finally (and easily) slips back inside of you.

already, without failure, rafe can feel your sweet little pussy fluttering wildly around him, making him fully hard and desperate to come inside of your womb once again, a low groan escaping him as your little cunny began suffocating him, restricting him from pulling out for a moment.

"don't worry, baby—dad's always got you, yea?" rafe hums, before pulling his hips nearly all the way back, until just the leaking tip of his cock remained inside of your sopping, quivering little pussy, making rafe feel like he could blow another load into you any second now—still, he could be patient for his girl to catch up with him, and he knew he wouldn't have to wait long, not long at all.

"yeah... yea, dad! I-love you," you mewl breathily, feeling your little nipples harden from your overwhelming arousal, your doe-like eyes finally locking with your boyfriend's—and oh, you could see the darkness brewing inside of him, the insanity and desperate hunger he felt for you, and all of his possessiveness just rising to the surface, ready to claim you.

"such a good girl for daddy," rafe praises with a low, deep voice—a small, mocking smile appearing on his handsome, slightly flushed pink face, his abs clenching erratically as he can feel his cock twitch and pulsate inside of you, making him nearly whimper as you give him another harsh squeeze around his oozing prick.

roughly, rafe firmly grasps at the fat of the skin of your smooth, silky hips even tighter, holding you down with a knitted brow, tongue in his cheek as he begins to concentrate on fucking you again, hard and fast and nastily sinful—just the way his baby enjoyed.

"yea, yea... fuck, baby—feels so fuckin' good 'round me," rafe chuckled lightly to himself, floppy bangs falling into his eyes, but he couldn't care less, not with how fucking gorgeous you looked underneath him, so submissive and obedient, getting railed by him, becoming his over and over again without stop, without complaint.

"that's daddy's good little girl, huh?"

[byllsbytch]

Cumming home to you <3

Nicholas Alexander Chavez

Ok, it’s pretty shitty, I’ve written this in 30mins, n im too lazy to write smut. (Besides I’m shit at it on a good day.)

here ya go cuties.

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Nicholas Alexander Chavez comes home late to his gf after a long day of filming, after many attempts of trying to get freaky they decide - fuck, we’re both too tired.

Warnings: Girl none?

I’d sat on the couch watching a cooking show, it was the most entertaining channel on at the time and seeing as the night was drawing to a close, I needed something easy to watch. It was my first week in our new apartment and Nick certainly was working his ass off for it. I numerously checked the time on the microwave in the kitchen and watched as the minutes passed.

I pulled the blanket up higher to my chin, slowly fluttering my eyes trying to keep them open. A tough inner battle. Being alone in the house it wasn’t hard to keep them open, when alone I’m always restless, however I was overtired. A wave of sleepiness hit me harder causing me to slump to the side of the couch. The words from the television became unintelligible and I began to drift away.

It felt like it had been two minutes before I woke to see Nicholas had finally gotten home and stood over me, pecking my cheek and playing with my hair.

“Come on princess off to bed.” He whispered. I struggled to open my eyes and glanced at the time again.

“2am! Nicholas! Are you ok baby?”

He smiled at my concern.

“I’m fine babe, just let me get you to bed.”

I mumbled before nick swooped me up in his arms and carried me to bed. I stretched and sprawled out in the centre of the bed before groaning in satisfaction.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so tired.”

“You’re fine my darling girl. I’ll just go for a shower and I’ll be right back. I’m sorry for coming home late and waking you.”

He walked into the bathroom the next room over and turned the water on.

-

The steam began to snake its way into the bedroom. After a few minutes I managed to pull my dead weight up off the bed and dragged my body to the bathroom doorway staring at Nick’s physique behind the shower glass.

I slowly began to pull off my shirt and kick off my pants. I heard the water turn off and Nicholas got out drying himself then wrapping the towel around his waist. He finally noticed me standing in the doorway in my old, ratty underwear. He bit his lip before coming close to me.

“What are you doing babe? You ok?”

I smirked at him, placing my hand onto his abdomen. He looked down to my hand and smiled closing the gap even more.

“I was going to get into the shower.”

“Oh damn it!” He joked, “Come on baby, let’s just go to bed it’s late.” He lent over and kissed me on the forehead.

I looked up at him and gave him puppy eyes a slight frown.

He looked away. “Oh come on! I feel bad that I woke you up.”

I placed my hand on his cheek before pulling him into a kiss.

He leant in with no hesitation and tangled his fingers into my hair. We both closed our eyes in each other’s embrace as Nicholas began to make his way from my lips down my neck. I took my hands behind my back before undoing my bra. He kept all his attention to my collar bone leaving sloppy kisses. He pulled away sensing the warmth from my breast and stepped back to glance at them. My forearms rested in his, he stared in complete adoration and love.

“You’re so gorgeous and perfect.”

He placed his hands onto my chest before going back into the kiss. I moved my hands down to his towel and gently tugged, teasing him.

“Mhmm” He hummed, nodding in the kiss.

I pulled it off before he lifted me up and carried me back to the bed.

He placed me down delicately before crawling over me.

He was out of breath and visibly excited.

“How was work handsome?” I asked keeping my hand on his face his stocky frame above me.

He stopped puzzled, already panting from the little action.

“Yeah it was alright baby. Long and boring but it’s ok because we’re about to wrap up filming soon. Tell you what got me through it, you. I couldn’t help but think about you all day. I’m so happy it’s over so we can be in this moment right now.”

I felt a grin grow wider across my face.

“Especially the snap that you sent earlier, that REALLY helped me wind down.” He chuckled, winking.

My eyes widened as I gasped, slapping him playfully on the chest, “Nick! Oh my god!” I couldn’t help but laugh and he soon joined in with me placing his forehead against mine.

“You know what this is nice. How about we just do this.”

“Oh thank god!” I said, “I’m so fucking knackered.”

I rolled onto my side and felt Nick press himself up against me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head into the crook of my neck.

He smirked at my reaction. “Oh ok! You came onto me remember!”

I smiled at him, “Well it’s hard not to.”

“You wanna know what’s hard?”

I turned my head back to look at him grinning before rolling my eyes.

We had some more pillow talk while he continued to spoon me.

“We’re definitely on in the morning, you know that?”

“Oh yes!” He triumphantly pumped his fist.

[gyll-yee-haw]

Dalton's rules

Elwood Dalton x reader

Annon requested something intense with our brand new boyfriend... well, here we go <3

A/N: In this fic he's still fighting professionally

Warnings: masturbation (f), dom!Dalton, Somnophilia, cum in underwear, degradation, edging, pussy slapping, choking, more slapping, creampie...

Like 2.4k words

---

The first rule was clear. Some days your boyfriend would get everyone screaming his name, except for you. Fight nights... how you hated them! Not only you had to wait anxiously for him to come out of that octagon alive, but he just refused to touch you afterwards.

He claimed it's for your own safety. He just gets too worked up during his fights... if he couldn't mesure his strength, if he ever lost control around you, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

You were fine with it, most days. Well, of course you felt like rewarding your champion, but that could wait... the stress you went through during the fight and the days of preparation got you too tired to complain about it.

Well, most days...

There was this specific occasion, a very important fight for his career. Dalton had been training for so long, you felt absolutely neglected. Being the supportive girlfriend you are, you didn't say anything, though... you knew how important you were for him, and if he heard you were feeling like that, he would feel like the worst person in the world. And not only you didn't want to hurt his feelings, you didn't want to distract him and cause him to break any bones.

All you could do was wait.

Honestly? It wasn't that bad. Dalton always made it up for you. The days after his fights, before he started preparing for the next one, were the BEST. He got so clingy. He wouldn't let you go anywhere without him. His scary fighter face would be hidden under the sweetest permanent smile and kind doe eyes he only had for you. He would use his fat paychecks to spoil you. Buy you new jewelry for every fight he wins. Take you for dinner anywhere in this planet. And God... fuck you against every surface he saw.

Maybe it's because you had those things in mind and got too eager... maybe it's because this specific time he went too long without touching you... you weren't sure about why, all you knew was that the night after he won the fight, you were absolutely unable to sleep.

The discomfort between your legs was unbearable. You kept tossing and turning in bed, and he was so exhausted, so deep asleep, that not even your restless state right beside him was enough to wake him up.

You sighed frustratedly, looking at his face. God, he was so beautiful you felt like crying. It didn't help the way he never wore anything but those black boxers to sleep.

He was so tired... maybe he wouldn't notice if you touched yourself...

Yeah, that's the second rule. You're not touching yourself without his permission.

But... he would understand, right? Only this time...

Your eyes were glued to his face as your hand slid inside your underwear.

You were dangerously close to him, his body pressed against yours...

It felt like you were committing a crime. Unfortunately, that only turned you on more.

You were so fucking wet you were afraid he would wake up from the sounds your pussy was making.

Well, he didn't fully wake up, but something in him did. You froze when you felt him move. Except that he didn't really move. What you felt was his cock hardening against your thigh.

You wanted to cry. He felt so deliciously hard... what a fucking waste, you needed him so badly... you rubbed your clit so hard, but that wasn't it...

You might have lost your mind just for a second. But the next thing you knew was that you were grinding against his erection like your life depended on it. At this point, all you wanted was for him to wake up and fucking take you.

He didn't wake up at once. As he gained consciousness, he was fully convinced that was all a dream. He remained on that half asleep/half awake land, without moving a muscle. And you kept grinding on his clothed cock so fucking good. So deliciously hard... leaking more and more and... oh shit.

His eyes shot open as his orgasm started to build.

"Shit! Y/N, what the fuck?!" He grunted, voice still so sleepy...

You didn't stop. He grabbed your arm harder than he would like to as he filled his underwear with cum. So much cum it leaked all over your ass as you kept rubbing it against him.

"Oh for fucks sake..." He pushed you away. Fucking pushed you away. He had NEVER done that. "Look at the fucking mess you've made..."

His harsh touch didn't hurt half as much as the loss of contact.

"Dalton... please..." You whined. "Didn't cum..."

"Yeah? Good." He grabbed your hand, forcing you to stop touching yourself. "What the fuck was that?"

"M'sorry..." You squeezed your thighs together. "Needed you too badly..."

"That's the worst behavior I have ever seen in my life." He took a deep breath. "And you couldn't have pissed me off at a worst time."

You had no words to defend yourself. It was true, you broke two rules at once.

"I am so fucking exhausted... and have wake up in the middle of the night to deal with a brat." He continued, his grip still burning on your arm.

"Baby... please... I'm so sorry..." You insisted, burying your face in his chest. Your hands went to his abs, tracing it slowly and he tensed up.

It was obviously not only difficult to you, those days without any touch. But he would rather suffer a bit than risk hurting you or losing the fight.

"Oh my sweet girl..." He cooed, hand stroking the back of your head. "You know I have to be harsh sometimes, yeah?"

You looked at his face again. His sweet expression kept you calm, but his words didn't.

"You understand that I have to punish you right now, don't you?" He asked nicely, like you had a choice. "That I do what I do because I need to keep you obedient..."

You nodded shyly.

"Good girl." He sighed. "Tell me, my princess... when you were touching yourself without my permission... you didn't cum, right?"

You shook your head quickly.

"Do you need to?" He asked and you nodded immediately. "Yeah? How bad? Use your words for me, darling."

"So bad, needed it for so long..." You explained, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey, hey..." His hand went to your cheek, stroking it lightly. "You need cock so bad you're gonna cry, angel?"

You felt humiliated. All you did was look at him. He had a huge smirk on his face.

"That's fucking pathetic." He mocked. "Spread your legs for me."

When you did, he ripped your underwear like it was nothing, throwing it somewhere in the room. The way his eyes landed on your pussy made your stomach churn.

He knew you were ready, so he immediately shoved two fingers inside, bending them, rubbing your walls just so right...

Your eyes immediately rolled back. You were so close before he caught you, it surely wouldn't take you too long to get there now.

"Does this feel good, baby?" He asked, fingers never stopping. "Is that what you needed?"

You nodded eagerly, hips moving uncontrollably as you felt yourself getting there... you grabbed the sheets and closed your eyes, god, you were right there, growing and growing and growing in your belly...

"Too fucking bad, slut." He said, removing his fingers from you at once. His sweet tone was nowhere to be seen now.

Before you could start crying at the loss of contact, he gave your pussy a loud slap. You gasped. You were used to Dalton being rough, but not that rough.

"What did you expect?" He mocked you again. "That I would just solve your fucking problem? Do you think you deserve that?"

When you didn't answer, he slapped your pussy again. "Thought I asked you a fucking question."

"I don't deserve it!" You admitted. "But I did what I did because I was too desperate... because I need you too badly..."

"You just had to wait until the morning, you know that." He explained.

"Couldn't wait... I couldn't." You whined. "Slap me again, please?"

His eyes widened. "You're trying to come from your punishment? Do you have any idea the kind of trouble that would put you in?"

"No... not thinking, just need you..." You moaned, arms wrapping around his neck, bringing him close. "Come on, baby... don't you miss me?"

"Y/N..." He groaned. "Can't do this right now."

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Because I'm fucking mad at you." He shut his eyes, like he was trying to tell himself that. He needed to tell himself, because he was getting hard again.

"No, you're not mad at me for real." You insisted. "Come on..."

"Am I not mad for real?" He raised his eyebrows.

You bit your lip and shook your head.

"Do you think I'm in the mood for playing?" He asked, looking at the clock on the nightstand. "At 3am?"

"I'm sorry... I won't do it again..." You pouted.

He sighed, his eyes on your lips as he licked his. He rested his hand around your neck as a warning to stay still while he leaned to kiss you. You melted into the kiss, hips trying to grind against his leg. His hand tightened around your neck.

"Quiet." He said against your lips.

He pressed his body against yours and you could feel how extremely hard he was again already. You had never met a man with that stamina. Well, everyone knew there was no other man like him...

"Listen to me. Carefully." He said, pressing his erection harder to your core, making you roll your eyes in lust. "I'm gonna fuck you now and then I'm going back to sleep. And if you wake me up again, I'm not gonna even look in your direction for a week, do you understand?"

You nodded with a certain difficulty, considering how his hand squeezed your neck.

"Do. You. Understand?" He asked again.

"Yes, sir." You replied weakly.

"Smart little brat." He chuckled. "Turn around."

He stood up to remove his underwear and you laid on your belly as fast as possible.

The sharp slap that laid on your ass didn't surprise you the slightest, but you still moaned.

He pulled you closer like you were nothing and started stroking his cock. He knew you were more than ready, but his cock was still a bit sensitive from the harsh stimulation you kinda... forced him into. So he entered you slowly, inch by inch. You couldn't believe how good it felt.

"Fucking missed this pussy, baby, I'll admit that." He said, movements starting slow, but deep. "Just wanted it to be more romantic, you know? Take you somewhere nice... in a pretty dress I'd ruin later..."

"M'sorry..." you cried out. When he was that deep inside you, he could get you apologizing for things you didn't even do.

"Yeah, but my girl doesn't like romance, right?" He grabbed your waist and started going harder. "She likes being treated like a fucking slut. A very fucking ungrateful one."

"S'not true..." You moaned.

"Oh am I crazy, baby?" He gave you another slap. "You wanna keep disrespecting me? Knowing you, you might get sick from the lack of attention..."

"I would!" You replied, desperately. "Could fucking die..."

"Dramatic fucking whore." He chuckled. "Listen to me now. Very serious."

You tried your best to concentrate. It helped that his hips stopped moving.

"You're gonna tell me to stop immediately if I hurt you, won't you?" He asked, in the most serious tone you've heard from him.

"Yes." You couldn't contain the excitement that phrase ignited in you. Should you be scared?

"I mean it. You won't get punished and I'll let you cum if you still want to. But you have to be honest, baby, I... I couldn't live with myself." He insisted.

"I promise, baby." You assured him. "You won't hurt me, I can take it."

"Yeah?" He chuckled again. "Well, you fucking asked for it."

After making sure you were as comfortable as you could get in your position, he forgot what the word mercy meant.

His thrusts fast and deep, his sounds animalistic. Hands on your hips leaving bruises... and if you could speak, you'd thank him for it. It was more than you expected... more than he ever gave you. But it sure was what you needed... and it didn't take too long for that familiar feeling, the one you had been craving all night, fuck, all week, start to build.

"DALTON, PLEASE!" You started by begging already, because you weren't in position to do anything without his permission, no matter how much you needed it. "PLEASE, I'M SO CLOSE..."

"Fuck, me too..." He said, never stopping his hard thrusts. "Come for me, pretty girl... hurry up..."

The relief your body felt as soon as it got his permission allowed your orgasm to build and build and explode harder than you could take it... all you could do was scream his name among incoherent words.

He followed right after you, filling you up so deeply...

As soon as he was finished, he wrapped his arms around you and laid down, holding you close.

"Are you okay, angel?" He kissed every inch of your skin he could reach.

"Fuck, I am now..." you sighed and both of you laughed a little.

"I'm sorry, baby..." His sweet tone was back incredibly quick.

"You didn't hurt me, I promise." You assured him.

"Good... But I'm not apologizing for this... I'm sorry that I neglected you for so long." He caressed your face gently. "You're so much more important to me than all that bullshit. I just..."

"I know." You cut him, offering him a reassuring smile. The look in your eyes meant all the words you couldn't say. Specially not at that moment.

"You do, don't you?" He sighed relieved. You were his ride or die. And he couldn't imagine what he would do without you. "I'm so lucky to have you."

"Well..." You shrugged playfully. "Guess that means it's all forgiven."

"All forgiven." He chuckled, bringing you closer to him.

[cherryobx]

Turn up the music okay any fletcher song for rafe but these two together undrunk and bitter

Undrunk and Bitter

a/n: love both of these songs sm!

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: you and Rafe broke up but some feelings still linger

warnings: suggestive themes, language

wc: 1.4k

How long will it take for your feelings for someone to go away? How long does it take to stop loving someone? Even if that someone is so bad for you.

You and Rafe broke up almost a month ago and you feel like every day is worse than the last. At first it was easy. You cried, got all of your sadness and anger out of your body. But then arrived the longing and loneliness. 

You miss him. You miss waking up in the same bed, his arms around you. You miss going on dates with him. You miss him giving a ride on the back of his bike. The little things.

But the relationship between you ate you up inside. You loved him but also knew you deserved better. You deserved more. That’s why you broke up with him. It was probably the hardest decision of your life. Because where do you find the strength to let go of the person you love more than anyone else?

“I can’t watch you mope around anymore.” Your friend Grace sits at the edge of your bed where you’re currently lying, staring at the ceiling deep in thought.

“Top’s throwing a party tonight. We’re going.”

You know you don’t have the energy to go but you also don’t have the energy to argue with her. And that’s how you end up at Topper’s house a couple of hours later.

You know he’s here even though you haven’t spotted him yet. Rafe. You can feel it in your bones. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you tell Grace who’s engaged in a conversation with Kelce about who knows what and she dismisses you with a wave. 

You sigh and try to find your way to the kitchen. Passing the living room, you see Rafe on the couch with a pretty girl on his lap. His eyes meet yours for a second before someone addresses him and he turns his attention to them.

Yeah, you definitely need a drink now.

How is it so easy for him to move on? It makes you wonder how much you really meant for him. How much the relationship and later the break up affected him. Did you really mean so little to him?

You finally find the kitchen. The counters are filled with various types of alcohol ranging from light stuff to hard liquor. You head for the latter. You down shot after shot and soon enough you feel your head start slowly spinning and your worries floating away. It feels nice. It helps you forget about him for a second.

“Rough night?”

You turn around and some guy is leaning against the counter, a red solo cup in his hand.

“You could say that.” You give him, what must be, a sad smile.

“What’s got you drinking like that?” he asks as he scoots closer and takes a sip of his drink.

“Life.”

“Fair enough.” He laughs. “I’m Trevor.”

“To you, Trevor.” You salute him and take another shot, grimacing at the taste of vodka in your mouth. He offers his drink as a chaser and you happily take it and down that too.

You introduce yourself to him and the conversation starts flowing. The alcohol keeps flowing too. Soon enough his hands are everywhere at once and you’re making out in the secluded hallway.

It feels nice. You feel wanted again. You haven’t felt that way in a while and crave it more than anything. There’s a little voice in the back of your head that keeps nagging at you that it’s wrong to use someone to get over Rafe. But it feels so good and you can’t help but want more.

“Y/n.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Rafe.

You break away from Trevor and see him approaching. His fists are balled and even the way he walks indicates that he’s angry.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he snarls.

“But-”

“Step the fuck back!” 

Trevor backs up with his hands raised in defeat.

“Walk away.” Rafe instructs him and he doesn’t argue. So much for that.

“Are you okay?” he asks almost softly, his hands on your upper arms on both sides of your body.

You shove him away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? You’re the one hooking up with strangers in the fucking hallway.”

“So? You can swap spit with girls all night but I can’t do the same?”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? We broke up, Rafe. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“You’re drunk. You’re not thinking clearly. Let me take you home.” He takes a step closer but you take one simultaneously back.

“Fuck you. I’m thinking more clearly than I have in a while. Why can you move on but I can’t?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not moving on anywhere with anyone.”

“You’re trying to tell me you didn’t fuck that pretty thing before you came here? Nice try. I need space from you, Rafe.”

“First of all, I haven’t fucked anyone since we broke up. Second, I’m taking you home.”

“Yeah right. I don’t believe you. She was all over you.”

“Like that guy was all over you?”

You shut your mouth. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still my business whether you like it or not. Now, you can come with me willingly or I will physically drag you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” You cross your arms on your chest and stand your ground, which in a literal sense is difficult because you’re too drunk for your own good.

“Stop being difficult.”

“No.”

He sighs before he makes a quick move of picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You’re like a sack of flour. Absolutely helpless and pathetic.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with your fists but that does nothing to help. He’s unaffected.

“I’m gonna throw up all over you,” you threaten. It’s actually a real possibility due to the fact that your head is furiously spinning and you can’t make your left from your right.

“I don’t care.”

People stare at him weird as he carries you through the house, while you’re kicking and screaming, to the driveway where his car is parked.

Very surprisingly to everyone around Rafe, he’s sober tonight. He didn’t plan on staying sober but when he saw you enter Topper’s yard through the living room window his heart made the decision for him.

He drops you in the passenger seat and buckles you up before walking to the driver’s side and hopping into the seat. In the few seconds he was outside the car you managed to unbuckle your seatbelt but he pulls it across your body again and locks the doors so you can’t escape. 

“I hate you,” you snarl at him and cross your arms once again, angling your body towards the car door on your side.

“Don’t care.” He backs out of the driveway and starts driving towards your house.

You rest your head against the cool window of the car and stare at the passing scenery. 

“Why do you care so much?” you ask.

“What?” He looks at you for a second before turning his gaze back towards the road ahead of him.

“Why do you care?”

“About what?”

“About me. We broke up and here you are, taking me home after cockblocking me.”

He scoffs. “I can’t stop caring about you overnight, Y/N. That’s not how it works. And even if I wanted to I couldn’t.”

“You looked like you could. Plenty of girls throwing themselves at you. Take your pick.”

“I don’t want any of them.”

The rest of the ride passes in silence. He helps you out of the car, into your house and to your bedroom. He even tucks you under the covers. 

“Why don’t you want other girls? You can, you know.” 

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead which makes you instantly close your eyes for a moment of bliss. For a second, you’re thrown back in time when you were together and he used to kiss you goodnight every single night, even if it meant driving over from his place to yours to do so.

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to love me again.”

You open your mouth but no words come out.

“If you remember this in the morning, text me. We’ll talk.” With that he stands up, turns off the lights and leaves, softly closing the door after him.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We got each other (and that's a lot)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 18

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Rated: M

CW: Violent imagery; aftermath of injury

Tags: Steve got vecna'd (he's okay, though); Angst; Trauma; Fluff

Notes: Continued from day 3. They'll be fine, they just need to kiss some and get a lot of therapy, probably.

Wanna see these soft, broken boys sleeping? Check out the heartwrenching art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Eddie drifts.

Inky blackness surrounds him like cotton, every sound, every thought muffled. His neck and fingers and arms still hurt, but it's the dull kind that comes with exhaustion, the tingle of adrenaline finally rushing from his body. Some distant part of him is still stirring, demanding that they stay alert … but the darkness is warm and soft and alluring as it pulls him under. 

Something cold touches his hand. 

Eddie flinches awake, heart kickstarting in his chest, fear zapping into his limbs like an electric current.

He fell asleep, he realizes, and the terror of it claws its way up his throat like a slimy, rotten tangle of vines. He fell asleep and when he opens his eyes it'll be to find Steve floating under the ceiling again, to find Steve's mangled corpse on the bed, eyes sucked from their sockets, face twisted in an eternal, grotesque scream, it's too late and he fell asleep, he fucking fell asleep while- 

Steve is awake. 

Steve is awake and he's looking at him and he's alive and his hand is lying on top of Eddie’s. It's cold and there's a needle in it from the IV cord and he's ghastly pale against the sheets, but he's smiling softly and he's alive, he's alive and Eddie wants to scream, to cry, to kiss him and never stop, to hold him and never let go-

"Hey," Steve whispers. 

"Hey," Eddie croaks. "You look like shit, man."

"Aw," says Steve, and the corners of his mouth twitch and Eddie thought he'd never see his smile again and shitshitshit don't cry, Munson, don't cry. "Thought I was pulling it off real well." 

He jerks his head in the general direction of the cast on his right leg, the one on his left arm. Eddie thinks he'll hear the sound of the bones breaking in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Typical," is what he says. "Half dead and still worried about your looks." 

Steve hums a not-quite-laugh. His fingers caress the back of Eddie’s hand. 

"Is he …?" 

"Dead," Eddie blurts. "For real this time. It's over." 

"The kids?" Steve's fingers twitch.

"Fine," Eddie says, watches how Steve's entire form sags with relief. "Buckley and Wheeler, too. And everyone else. It's over." 

"I- good." Steve screws his eyes shut, gulps. Draws a shuddering breath. "That's good." 

Eddie watches how his shoulders start shaking. Following a sudden impulse, he flips his hand and tangles his hand with Steve's, careful not to upset the needle. Steve blinks down at their entwined fingers. 

Eddie forces himself to smile and rambles on before either of them can question the gesture. 

"El was so fucking metal, you should've seen her. Like, the way she obliterated that douchebag? Remind me to never get on that girl's bad side! Seriously, man, I don't think any of us would be here if she hadn't-" 

"Well, I don't think I would be here …" says Steve. "... if it hadn't been for you." 

Eddie’s words barrel to a stop. Steve’s fingers tighten against his, trace the callouses on his hands. Steve’s smile is small and soft, but his eyes are serious, trained stubbornly on the ugly pattern of his hospital gown. 

"I thought you hated Bon Jovi." 

Eddie huffs. "Fuck, yeah, I do. Forcing me to besmirch my Sweetheart's strings with that mainstream shit? You owe me big time, man. Better start thinking of ways to pay me back."

"Yeah?" Steve raises their tangled hands lightly. "How's this for a start?" 

And then, before Eddie can even wonder what he's about to do, he ducks his head and presses a kiss to his knuckles. His lips are soft and warm. 

Eddie blinks. Waits for the world to stop spinning. 

"For … a start?" he repeats dumbly. 

Steve's eyebrow quirks. 

"Dude, I'd like to do so much more, but I'm glad I managed to lift your hand, to be honest. We should also first talk about stuff, I guess." 

"Oh," Eddie says intelligently. "You mean … like that thing you wanted to tell me?" 

"Yeah, like tha- … that thing." Steve needs to interrupt himself for a huge yawn halfway through. Since one of his arms is in a cast and the other hand is refusing to let go of Eddie’s, it ends up open-mouthed and adorable. "Probably'll have to sleep some more b'fore that, though …"

"Sure thing," Eddie is out of his chair and fussing with the pillow before he realizes what he's doing. Steve's eyes are already drooping as he helps him settle down. "I'll … I'll be outside, tell the others you're-" 

"Eddie?" Steve's grip around his wrist is light as a feather, but he still stops like he's been tethered in place. When he turns, there's fear swimming in those pretty eyes. "Stay? I don't … I'd rather not be alone." 

Eddie is back in his chair before Steve can finish the sentence. 

"Can you…" Steve's eyes are slipping shut again and his words are slurred, so that Eddie must lean closer to catch them. "D’you think you can sing? So I can find my way back, if- … Your voice is like light."

Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know if there's anything he could possibly say to that. So he says nothing. Just swallows around the lump in his throat and takes Steve's hand and starts singing softly. 

By the time Steve's breath evens out and his fingers go limp, Eddie’s other hand has found its way into his hair. 

Eddie keeps singing for a long while.

For as long as he's here, Steve will always have someone to guide him back.

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[arminsumi]

22 with toji? >___< i love mamaguro but sometimes i be thinkingggg..

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦

A/N: ughhh ikr 🤤😔 ik this goes without saying (hopefully) but y'all don't cheat 😵‍💫 read fiction about ur fave anime boys cheating with u instead lmao

Wc ≈ 800

Pairing: TOJI Fushiguro x f.reader

Summary: you and Toji getting up to no good in your favorite hotel room

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, smut, infidelity, pns (baby, slut, bitch) cheating kink, slight size kink, nasty dirty talk, slightly mean/rough Toji, taking condom off (mutually consensual), breeding kink, slight hairpulling, one ass slap (why is it always just ONE lmao), kinda rough/manhandling but not rlly, daddy kink, prone bone/from the back, lmk if i have missed anything <3

♪ i keep going back to this hotel room...

Damn you, he thinks while squeezing himself into a condom that’s very slightly too small for his size.

You’re to blame – to blame for being spellbinding, bewitching, entrancing, irresistible, alluring… he never thought about straying until you showed up one day in the office, pretty smile and naughty glint in your eyes.

“Fuck me…” he seethes when he sinks into your tight pussy – so happily spreading your legs for him on the hotel bed. With how many times you two have come and gone through this room on weekends, you’re pretty sure the receptionist has figured out what happens behind those closed doors.

“ ‘s so fucking sexy when you arch your back like that for me, pretty thing.” Toji grunts, splitting you wide open on his cock. “ ‘missed me?” he asks cheekily, feeling how much you’re gushing for him after such simple touching earlier – he had kissed you like he was starved of the taste of your lips, touched you like he’s never laid hands on a female form before. It made sense why he acted so needy, you hadn’t seen him for two weekends straight after all.

“Mhm! Missed you so much…” you moan into the pillow, bringing your hands down to spread your pussylips so you can take his cock better.

His cockhead always glides in so nicely, but halfway in his length got so thick that your pussy just spat his cock out. He always chuckles when it does.

“ ‘been too long, baby, ‘gotta stretch out that pussy all over again. Make it remember daddy’s cock.”

Toji tightly pins your waist down into the mattress, just feeling a fraction of his strength turns you on. Yeah, you’ve met strong guys before – but Toji was fucking strong. He could toss you into any position he wanted, he could make you feel weightless at times.

Those calloused hands know your body better than your own. He knows which sweet spots to his to make you cream, what pace makes you claw at his biceps, what dirty talk makes you cum. He knows everything about your body. He almost doesn’t wanna admit it, but he knows your body better than his own wife’s.

“Fuckin’ slut, look at you going dumb on my dick already. Keep it together, we just started.” He chuckled meanly, giving your ass an encouraging smack to bring you back to earth. “What? ‘This position too much for you?” he asked rhetorically – because he knew damn well that you couldn’t handle him pressing his weight onto you from behind like this.

“Nooo, I can take it!” you squeak, biting the hotel pillow as you hug it for support. He always feels so good that you need some form of comfort. The feeling of his fat tip nudging against your sweet spot and throbbing there makes you say some nasty shit that makes him smirk. “Fuuuck – just fuck me alre – fuuuck, mhm! Like that! Like that!” you sob into the pillow when he fulfils your wishes and pounds into you from behind like an animal.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and gently pulls your head back, making his lips meet your ear – scar grazing against your skin. “Don’t go all quiet on me. I know how fucking nasty you are – what’ve you been wanting to tell me huh? I know you missed me bad.”

His cockhead hits the spot that makes you spill the truth. “Fuuuck – daddy fuck me like I’m yours.” You said, “F-fuck me like I’m your wife.”

“Shit… dirty fuckin’ bitch, you talk like that and you’re gonna make me cum.” He breathes heavily into your ear, sweat already beading off his abdomen with his intensely he’s rutting into you. “You really like me, huh? Haha, yeah, I know – it’s so cute. So cute that you cum so much on this cheating cock. Uh-huh, don’t get shy on me now – we both know we get off on that. Just be honest with yourself – there we go, that wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?”

He groans, big arms entangling with your body. You can feel his muscles twitching, you can smell the scent of his cologne and sweat and sex all mixing in the air. And him? He’s burying his head into the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. Your perfume drives him nuts, it makes him dizzy like he’s some lovesick teenager.

Everything he holds back from telling you, he admits when he’s pussy-drunk and about to cum. “Fuck, sweet thing, ‘wanna give you a baby. D’you want that? Yeah? F-fuck really? You sure? You want my babies? Shit alright, I’ll give you a fucking baby t’night. Don’t tell her it’s mine.” He said, tugging his cock out of your pussy despite your walls hugging him like they were trying to keep him in there forever.

You reach behind you and pull off the condom yourself, and he just watches, half-drooling at the sight, before plunging back inside you and doing what he promised – giving you his babies.

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 3: New Faces, New Job, New Everything.

Continuation to the Prolouge, Chapter 1 and 2.

Danny stares at Dante in absolute shock, Red Hood? RED HOOD?? OF ALL PEOPLE. Dante had to meet the rumored and probably the most violent of the Vigilantes. And Red Hood being a literal Crime Lord makes this worse.

"He had a fat ass to be hone-" Dante Blurted with a smirk but Danny cuts him off, "No, No. Shut up. I don't wanna hear your- or my- wait no. YOU'RE gay shenanigans." Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to process the whole story.

"Let me get this.. straight-... You ... Ugh.... Ancients save me. YOU. MET. RED HOOD. AFTER. Beating up... Someone in his HAUNT?? And what do you mean he's a revenant? I thought frostbite said those were the "rare cases" of semi-halfas" Danny tries to clear up all the information in his head through just yelling it out.

"Yep." Dante popping the "P" and does not elaborate on anything else but a simple 'yep'.

"Kill me fully- wait... No. Jazz wouldn't want that." Danny reminded himself and took a deep breathe.

"I am so telling Clockwork." Danny spoke out.

"Oh come on! I'm in physical probation! I defended someone from getting bad things happen to them—" Danny cut him off.

"You can say "Fucked up shit" you know stop physically censoring yourself." Danny just stared at Dante with a judgemental face. Dante gasped dramatically like he's offended by that statement.

"OH WOW. It's not like I'm trying to 'Censor' myself because you're a traumatized 13 year old kid and I'm an adult given the responsibility of YOU cuz I love you like my brother." Dante states emphasizing every word.

"You sound like a drag queen." Danny blurts out

"I look better in pink anyways." Dante smirked smugly and Danny just frowned and sighed as Dante Ruffled his hair Mischievously.

"Don't you have a job interview today?" Danny grabbed his hand and gently places it away from his poor hair.

"I already got hired. They said I fit the job." Dante sounded very proud of himself before Danny blurts out "I think they hired you on the spot because you're Eye Candy."

Dante was stunned and thought about it for a moment.

Hmm.

"Yeah I suppose but that doesn't matter now, I have a normal job and people doesn't seem to be bothered by me at all so it's very good." Danny imagined that if Dante had a tail he'd be wagging it and Danny didn't like that mental image of a fucking CATBOY DAN- "UUUUUGHH! I hate that." He drags his palm on his face dramatically.

"And you Danny. Is coming with me to work. I am not leaving you in the apartment because. I will list it.

1. Someone might break in and you're not safe.

2. You might kill that someone either through ghost or through your tendencies to grab that goddamn creep stick and hit without hesitation.

3. I am not letting you play DOOMED for 7 hours straight, But I will let you play Minecraft.

4. You or well, We. Tend to roam away from home when we are bored, in this case you do. And ding ding ding we're in Gotham.

5. If you ever got into any danger. I would not worry if you're okay. I would worry if you killed someone first.

That's your list."

Dante started Loud and Clear.

"Fine but I get to bring both my phone and headphones with my switch." Danny Complied with a deal making Dante smile triumphantly, "Fine with me Twerp, and you better behave at the cafe." He chuckles and Pats Danny's Head Gently but still mischievously.

Danny also giggled, Danny's chest felt warm. And his core buzzed in familiar happiness as Dante and Danny Pressed their foreheads into each other before Dante pats Danny's shoulder and stands back up with a groan.

"Let's go kid, get ready now." Dante stretched his body and cracks some of his "old bones" as Danny heads to his bedroom and takes his sling bag and puts his 'neccesities' inside with a smile.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tim heard about a new Cafe opening nearby Gotham U, although at first he was suspicious of how so many people are already visiting it and even the lines reach outside. He soon found out why. One of their workers was rumored to be apparently "eye candy" or whatever they called people who are very attractive.

This worker was the main Barista and he apparently makes the drinks Infront of the people and he was good at it.

That got Tim even more curious, How attractive does someone have to be that people of all genders are lining up on a new store as if a celebrity is inside. And so he decided to wait in line like any other student as to not direct any attention to himself because that would be utterly humiliating for him.

He waited.....

And waited....

And kept Waiting and Waiting....

Until finally, what felt like an eternity he finally got to order His Coffee.

It seems the rumors are true, the bartender is indeed attractive. Tim got even more curious about how the big man seemed to have canine sharp teeth, oddly pale complexion that almost looks... Purple? And Lazarus Green Water with Red Rims.

"An Americano with two shots please.." He states to the Cashier, "And name please?" The Cashier asks again.

"Timothy." He calmly tells her as she writes it down to a receipt and hands it to the orders That the "Eye Candy" Man and Another Worker was Making.

Tim sat on a nearby table. It was the only table that happened to be empty. Except a 13 years old kid just sitting there playing... Minecraft? Okay-.

The kid stared at Tim, Tim stares back. 'He looks like adoption Bait.' Tim thinks to himself then suddenly he slowly feels weird, as if he's being judged intensely, Unfortunately and possibly even worse than how Damian judges him.

"You look like an overworked 9-5 office worker that has no paid vacations or time off for a student." the kid suddenly speaks out and it felt as though Tim had just been shot with a non-existent arrow of truth.

"Wha-" Tim tries to ask but the kid interrupts him before he could even start, "you should really get some sleep and maybe lessen your intake of Coffee... Ah right. Name's Danny by the way. Sorry. You just started staring at me so I couldn't help but state my opinion." The kid, or well... Danny said as he went back to playing Minecraft on his switch.

"I- it's... It's fine. I know I need sleep... All college students do- it's normal." Timothy just sighs and nods subtly, knowing full well this random kid is right.

Goddamit, the kid acts like Damian a bit too- and he has the typical black hair blue eyes appearance, possibly an orphan attitude. Tim continues to have a subtle Life Crisis in his head.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

'Such a weird person.' Danny thought to himself and chuckled softly.

He continues to play Minecraft with Tucker and Sam to Pass his time and so he doesn't go all deppreso mid-daylight. The amount of people entering the cafe was still... Concerning at the very least, now that the customers have heard Dante's voice... They started to call him the "Everything in one Package." Which was way worse than "Eye Candy" to be honest.

'Vlad would be confused and shocked.... I wonder how Ellie is doing.. hopefully not too bad....' Danny hums to himself as he made a gravesite ingame for Jazz to remember her by.

It has become tradition for these teens to make jazz a gravesite whenever they start a new world and they always made sure it's beautiful and colorful in a way Jazz would have liked it.

Danny smiled as he finished up the ingame Gravesite.

Although it hurts to see and do this every time, he still loves it because then he has something to remind him of her existence.

Her precious Existence as he likes to call it.

"I miss her so much..." He mutters to himself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"I'm so... Tired." Dante was plopped onto the couch lazily.

"I am scared to be an adult like you..." Danny just stared at Dante as he Begrudgingly sat back up from the couch to stretch his body and head to the kitchen to cook.

"I met a random older student today, we kinda talked. He called me adoption bait which was funny because technically I am considering V l a d." Danny laughed.

"Adoption Bait my ass, who would want to adopt a little messy homeless looking goblin." Dante just chuckled smugly and Danny Pouts. " I am not a homeless looking kid" he tries to defend himself "that's the thing you're most concerned about in my sentence?" Dante tucked his hair back into a tight Ponytail and let's it flow naturally like fire.

"I know I'm a goblin, it's just how I am." Danny proudly says and pats his chest and puffs it out with pride.

"Ofcourse you do... Ah right. Kiddo I have a surprise for you tomorrow. So make sure to get enough sleep today alright?" Dante kneels down to Danny's Height to speak to him properly.

Danny thinks for a second, "Sure! I like surprises!" Danny giggled nodded profusely in excitement.

"Good." Dante smiled softly, he loves it when Danny is happy. His core loves when Danny is also happy. A happy Danny is a happy Dante.

He wishes this could go on forever. Just Danny smiling and not screaming for his life in his nightmares.

My Arm is cold from writing this <33

Enjoy though.

[hells-wasabii]

Hey!! I had an Adam request for Hazbin Hotel. If possible, could it be a mixture of headcanon and drabble? If not, just drabble, please!!

So imagine if Adam had escaped before being killed by Nifty, and is still incredibly hurt. The angels had left, thinking he had died, leaving him behind. Then demon reader finds him bleeding out, and despite knowing who he is and what he's done to their kind, they still help him and let him stay at their apartment to heal properly, and hopefully tries to change his mind on Hell and other demons.

Gn reader would be great, if you could please! - 🍋

Howdy hey! I'm really glad you asked for a half and half, I don't think i'd be able to delve into this request proper. Also, adam is seriously growing on me. I got to work on my requests today later than i would've liked though, so I'll try to make up for lost time

Character: Adam

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (injured!Adam x sinner!reader, Angst, Fluff)

Adam, despite what you might think, fully understands the severity of the situation. He knows that he's royally fucked, especially if he happens across the wrong demon. He also knows that heaven’s not coming for him. The fact that what was left of his army had retreated was testament enough that they believed him to be dead.

Yeah, he might’ve escaped with his life but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Could you imagine what could happen if he ran into somebody with a grudge against him specifically? It wasn't like he was subtle about his identity at the moment, covered in golden blood, oh, and of course, the wings were a dead giveaway. 

So when the very first man collapsed in some dirty alley way he thought he was done for. That was where he met you. You were an anomaly to Adam. Why would you, a sinner, help him of all people? He figured that you just didn’t know who he was as you took him back to your home to help him heal. That assumption didn’t last long, though, you called him by his name so you definitely knew who he was.

When you’re helping him heal, offering up your apartment as a place for him to recuperate, he’s gonna be bitching about it the whole time. You knew who he was, so now there was no way he’d let you forget he was the first man and how absurd it was that he was left like this. He’d complain about any little thing too, he’s used to a life of comfort, used to getting what he wants when he wants it. And you’d best believe you’re going to hear about how he hasn’t gotten laid since getting stuck down in hell.

Adam couldn’t believe it as he stared at the calendar hung on the wall of your dingy apartment. Despite all the slack he’s given you, the first man had long since decided that maybe you weren’t so bad for some loser sinner. The last of his wounds were healed now, something he had you to thank for. Bones were set properly, and he’d even been able to stave off infections under your care.

The angel was grateful. He really was. And as uncommon as it was, he wanted to show you just how grateful he was. You had gone off somewhere, work you said, but he wasn’t sure what you did for work now that he thought about it. You had probably mentioned it early on in his stay, but at that point, he didn’t really listen to much of what you said.

So, he decided to make you something to eat, you should be back in an hour anyway.

Simple enough, right? There was some pasta in the cupboards, he’d start with that.

Oh, you were gonna be so impressed! After all, you were going to eat a meal prepared by the first man here! This surprise totally-not-a-date-even-though-he-maybe-wanted-it-to-be dinner was going to rock!

...

In his defense, he had been left alone. You were pretty lucky to have gotten home when you did, or you were sure your kitchen would've been burnt down. You sighed, turning to the angel who was making a rather convincing impression of a kicked puppy. Instead of scolding him, you offer a small smile. "Why don't we just get takeout?"

[visemes]

stolitz duet lyrics

now edited that full moon is out!

STOLAS Thank you to the butterflies In my stomach. I haven’t  Felt this nervous since I was  A little fluffy dumb nestling

My derring-do is half-disguise Behind a smile, my beak is grinding Ever minding I swore I wouldn’t dwell on the divorce So for my own health I’ll remind myself

That when I see him I know that it won’t feel so tough! I’ll believe him, and not the voice That says I’m not enough

No need for an arrangement It can just be him and me I’ll set us free How perfect it could be When I see him tonight!

BLITZO See him tonight? Alright alright! It’s been a while Since he begged for attention Are we okay? Eh, can’t really say… I’m getting by By avoiding his questions

So complicated I hate when it’s complicated! Why do I always end up in situations that are complicated?! Here I go again, getting in my head So I’ll focus on the sexy stuff instead

STOLAS When I see him…

BLITZO When I see him I’m gonna do that thing he likes...

STOLAS I will change things…

BLITZO No need to change things, I’ll just bring the rope and spikes

STOLAS Oh god!

BLITZO We’ve got a nice arrangement And it’s working out just fine We'll keep it light!

STOLAS I’ll fucking die alone if this goes bad tonight--

STOLAS AND BLITZO (TOGETHER) When I see him tonight!

STOLAS Am I doing something I can’t take back?

BLITZO (spoken) Relax…

STOLAS Would he want me if he was free?

BLITZO (spoken) We’re fine!

STOLAS And if he’s only here as a prisoner What kind of monster does that make me? My entire life’s been written in stone…

BLITZO (spoken) We’re gonna bone…

STOLAS He taught me that I could choose…

BLITZO (spoken) It's cool

STOLAS He deserves the choice to stay or go Though it scares me to think What I’d lose…

BLITZO Can’t wait to lose ourselves in nasty sex and make that bird squawk!

STOLAS Really must confess…

BLITZO We’ll just stick with what makes sense, like him sucking my--

STOLAS God this is the worst! Waiting for the shoe to drop

BLITZO Who needs words when you’ve got a mouth full of

STOLAS (spoken) Come to your senses!

BLITZO (spoken) Then I’ll do that thing with my tongue where I--

STOLAS He’s worthy of your love and trust…

BLITZO I’ll eat his bird puss nice and thrust!

STOLAS  The night cannot come soon…

BLITZO He’ll be coming soon…

STOLAS AND BLITZ (TOGETHER) Enough!

BLITZO (spoken) Oh yeah!

STOLAS But when I see him Will it be tender? Or be tough? Will it please him, or will I just be fucking it all up?

Can this be our relationship? Or am I still naive? I’ll set us free Whatever it may be When I see him (spoken) tonight…

[stvrlightgirl]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part two

part one ←

summary: Your second meeting doesn’t really go as you planned, but you couldn’t complain. After all he asked you out on a date, right?

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: fluff, idiots in love, Remus is a lovesick puppy, Marlene McKinnon, cause she deserves it, talking about tough times, but nothing bad.

wc: 2,4k

Enjoy!

“So you say he’s pretty hot, huh?” Marlene looked at you with a sly grin dancing on her lips, as she spoke.

You rolled your eyes at her suggestive tone, and almost instantly, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, causing you to subconsciously look away and hide your face in the comforting warmth of your coffee, as you take a slow sip to cover your flustered expression.

“I-I do think he’s…more attractive than an average man, yeah, but it’s doesn’t change anything.” you stammer in defense. "He's Molly's teacher, for goodness sake!" You huff under your breath, taking another, nervous sip of your coffee to divert your focus from the embarrassing topic.

Marlene lets out a hearty laugh, shaking her head in playful disbelief. "Oh, come on now," she teases, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips. She repositions herself to a seated position on the couch, to see you better.

You've known Marlene since you were diaper-wearing kiddos running around the playground, and she's been your rock throughout the years. No matter how tough times have been, she's always been there for you, even during your darkest days. When you got pregnant and after giving birth, she never gave up on you. You can't even count the number of times you've cried on her shoulder because life has been hard, and you've felt lost.

And moments like that reminded you of just how well she actually known you. Maybe even better than you’ve known yourself.

“ I don’t know…” you sigh, looking down at the floor to collect your thoughts. “I actually felt something, when he looked at me, but maybe it was just my imagination running, you know?” You chuckled as your hand squeezed the mug tighter. “He was just nice” you shrug. “He had to be nice, it’s his work.” You tried to convince yourself.

“But he's single, right? I mean, you're pretty as fuck and certainly not stupid, so you must have noticed that he's into you!" She raised her voice in frustration. "Why would he approach you if not because he finds you hot?”

“I don’t know if he’s single, Marlene, why would I care?” You frowned. “Besides, I’m not going to ask him that question, never.” You put the mug down on the shelf and then rubbed your face with your hands. “It’s just stupid crush.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, looking back at her.

“Ha! So it’s a crush, you said it yourself!” She pointed her finger towards your direction as a mischievous smile grew bigger on her face, causing her nose to wrinkle. “I just can’t understand the fact that you don’t want to to be dicked down by a hot teacher, I mean, you’re wasting your time, maybe someone could finally jump your bones so that y-“

"Alright, that's enough, Marlene," you replied firmly, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as embarrassment washed over you. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying your best to regain composure. “It’s just not easy for me, and you know that, I wish I couldn’t overthink every aspect of my life, it’s tiring.” You gulped.

She looked at you with a knowing expression, the kind that mixed pity and understanding. You knew that look all too well, and hated seeing it on her face. It made you feel vulnerable again.

"Please don't give me that look," you whispered under your breath, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"I’m just worried about you," she murmurs, her gaze dropping to the carpet beneath your feet. "It's been nearly 7 years."

It’s been seven years since your last relationship. That night, when you told him about your pregnancy, should never happened. You should know better, but you were blinded by a manipulative fucker, who ran off the second he heard that you were carrying his baby. Since then it was hard for you to find someone who could understand your complicated situation, and you just stopped going to dates years ago.

You got used to the fact, that’s it was just you and Molly. And now that you had your life fixed up, why screw it all up by some dude?

"I don’t want to talk about it. " you backed away with to the hallway to grab your car keys “I have to be in Molly’s school in fifteen minutes.”

She rose from her seat on the couch and gracefully glided across the room to the corridor, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. As she approached, she leaned against the door frame and gazed at you quietly, her eyes searching your face.

“Just think about it, that’s all I ask.”

You sat down to pull on your boots, your gaze drifting towards her. She was staring at you intently, her determination clearly etched on her face. Her unwavering, steely gaze held a familiar stubborn resolve. You’ve seen it countless times before.

"Okay, okay, I'll think about it, but i can’t promise anything. " you finally relented, holding up your hands in defeat. Her eyes widened, and a squeal of excitement escaped her lips as she jumped up and down in front of you like an elated child. You couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

It won’t hurt to try, right?

Despite his natural talent for public speaking, which was crucial given his job working as a teacher, he found it difficult to concentrate his mind on anything today.

It wasn’t because he didn’t slept well, or his mood was worse than usual, it was because of you. You couldn’t leave his thoughts since he saw you for the first time in the hallway. That sweet smile adorned on your face when you spoked to your daughter, and the look you gave him, when you found his eyes for the first time. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The meeting was supposed to be chill, just some parents chatting about their kids, wanting to know their recent progress, just like every month. But things got way more complicated when you showed up. He must have been seriously sick to hallucinate the room lighting up when you walked in. Clearly, your mere presence was playing tricks on his overtired brain. He felt like a mad person.

“Mr. Lupin?” An irritated voice snatched him away from his mind. He quickly moved his gaze to the woman speaking to him. She was standing there with her arms tucked into her coat.

“Yes, what was the question again?” He raised the corner of his mouth nervously.

“I just asked about the school trip.” She huffed, clearly impatient.

Remus spoke, twirling a pencil in his hand to quell his anxiousness. "Right, yes. We plan on taking kids to the ranch next week, and the tickets are free, so we just need your permission for this one," he managed to say, his voice betraying a hint of nerves. “There will be a list on my desk, you can sign up, or not, and that’ll be all for today. I think we managed to raise all the issues earlier.” He reached for a piece of paper from his briefcase and placed it on the desk. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He couldn’t help but take a glance at you again.

You were chatting quietly with some parents in the back. He couldn’t help but feel being pulled back again to his trance. Maybe he shouldn’t thought about you that much? What if you already had someone else waiting for you at home? If not, he wanted so badly to know you better. You were pulling him towards like a fucking magnet.

After a while, when everyone began to gather around the desk to sign the list, you stayed behind, in no rush to join them. Finally when you stood up and made your way to the desk he felt his heart speeding up. Leaning over, you picked up a pen before quickly scribbling your signature next to Molly's name. You were closer than ever, and he could feel your perfume from such close distance. They were sweet. A hint of vanilla mixing with orange blossom and rose. The strands of your hair had escaped from behind your ears, cascading like a waterfall of silk down your face. They framed you, gently brushing against your skin as they fell.

He wanted you so bad it hurts his insides.

Remus watched you for a moment, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

As you straightened up, your gaze landed on his, and for a split second, you both locked eyes. There was a brief moment of connection, a fleeting glance that seemed to hold a thousands of unspoken words.

Your voice whispered through the empty space, the soft sound catching his ear and causing him to startle momentarily. "Molly said that they were painting pictures today," you murmured, your smile gentle as your gaze drifted out the window.

"Yeah..." Remus nodded casually as he leaned back, his shoulders relaxing slightly against the chair. He pushed back his soft strands of hair with hand, when they’re got dangerously close to his forehead. “It was supposed to be a way to get them to calm down for a bit.” He chuckled, his eyes seeking yours. “But it turned out into pure, colourful chaos.” He pushed himself up, closing the distance between you to stand by your side. His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans.

He wore them again, but today his sweater was sage green,and his wrist was adorned by a brown leather-watch on his wrist, and he even got boots to match.

He stole a glance through the window, his eyes falling upon you as you gazed at the scene. The empty playground outside was being caressed by soft wind, golden leaves carried away in a gentle dance around the area.

“It must’ve be-“

“Actually I-“

You both chuckled at the same time, gazes meeting and in an instant, it felt as if the world around you faded away. It was that gleam in his eyes, that captivated you so much.

“Go on.” you said gently, encouraging him to continue. Your voice was soft and quiet, the words barely above a whisper. A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and a faint blush stained your cheeks.

He looked back at the window to collect his thoughts.

He chuckled softly, "I just never introduced myself properly, which is kind of rude, to be honest." You sensed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “I’m Remus.”

He held out his hand, and as yours met his much bigger palm, that familiar tingling sensation shot through you again, just like when you bumped into each other in the hallway.

His hands were warm, but in that moment, they seemed almost scalding. Your own skin tingled under his touch, the heat from his fingers sending ripples of sensation radiating through you. As he held your hand, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference between your own cool touch and the comforting warmth of his palm.

"Y/n." you replied gently, your voice was barely a whisper not wanting to break the spell of the moment as you held onto his hand, or maybe he held onto yours, you couldn’t tell.

Your name slipped from his tongue like a cloud on a rainy day, soft and soothing, yet with a gentle rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

A moment passed, and as he released your hand, and immediately a feelings of emptiness washed over you.

“Well, it’s nice to finally know your name, Remus.” You smiled when small blush appeared on his cheeks.

His name sounded different on your tongue as if it had been destined to be spoken by you. Each syllable rolled off your lips effortlessly, like it was always supposed to be there. He found himself hanging on every sound, relishing the sound of his name in your voice.

"So...," he began, pausing to clear his throat nervously. His voice dropped as he continued, "Are you free this Friday?" He looked down to observe your reaction, his lowered gaze catching the hint of amusement on your face.

just think about it, that’s all I ask.

When you shifted to face him directly, you were startled by the sheer height difference between the two of you. He seemed to loom over you, his tall stature making you feel practically tiny in comparison. You hadn't noticed just how much taller he was until that moment. You couldn't speak for a second, overwhelmed by a potent mix of shock and panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, setting your body on edge as you struggled to find the right words. Time seemed to freeze, your thoughts a whirl of unease and surprise as you stood before him, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yes," you managed to say, despite the mixture of surprise and anxiousness coursing through you. "I am free this Friday." A small, shaky breath escaped your lungs. The words came out softly, almost a whisper, but they were clear enough.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at your answer, the tension in his frame releasing some of its tight coil. A small, anxious chuckle escaped him as he continued. "Great, because there's this small café in town, and they have the best coffee around. Only if you're up for it, of course," he added hastily, his nervousness betrayed by the slight waver in his voice.

“I would love to, Remus.” Your voice soft as you spoke, a shy smile playing on your lips.

God, you said his name again, he could die as a happy man now.

The school bell rang abruptly, causing you both to laugh in amusement at its timing. It seemed like the bell had a knack for knowing when to chime in, always breaking the moment between you with perfect timing.

And you couldn't have been more happier when, amidst the chaos of collecting his things and saying goodbyes, he asked for your number. You gave it to him with a fucking smile on your face, because you didn’t care. Seeing him today had reassured you that even if things won’t work out between the two of you, you'd still have your normal, happy life, so it wouldn't hurt too much. And plus, you really wanted to. He was cute even when he stammered for no reason.

It was official, you had a date with a hot teacher.

part three

a/n: I really love the idea that this two idiots are just so smitten with each other, that they can’t speak properly, but I promise, it won’t last for too long…hehe. Also, if you want me to tag you in my tag list, just dm me :)

another a/n: Just wanted to quickly announce that part 3 will be posted probably next Friday, because at the moment, im busy sunbathing on the wild beach and sipping on my drink. I hope you have a nice day too xoxo.

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers

[junedenim]

when you're so pretty and i'm so shy

when banging into somebody only leads to more banging

warnings: fluffy smut, fingering, eating, and the regular shmegular

word count: 3k

The first time Alex talks to you, he breaks your nose. You had known each other nearly your whole life but you lived on opposite sides of town and ran in different groups. The closest you ever came was when he sat two seats over from you in English and you passed a note to him once. Then, in physical education, during a rousing game of basketball, he crashes into you. You aren't even playing the game. 

You're standing on the sidelines, talking with Gemma, and paying little attention. Lost in gossip and the drama of Gemma's rivalry with Daphne Pritchett when the blur of Alex runs right smack into you. You hear the crack. You reach up and blood is pouring out. Your heart is pounding and your face is red but mostly you're too embarrassed to look up and make eye contact with anyone.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Are you okay? I'm sorry," Alex profoundly says. 

"Yeah," you mutter, even if it isn't true. You look up slowly at him.

"Shit," he whispers.

You panic and grab your nose. You wince in pain. "Is it bad? Am I missing a tooth or something?"

He shakes his head. "You're just...your nose...it's bleeding a little." A lot. There's a puddle on the floor and you can taste it, all metallic in your mouth.

"You broke her fucking nose!" Gemma shouts.

You cringe and curve your shoulders over. "Seriously?"

"I'm sorry." He's all meek and he has his hand on your shoulder trying to soothe. You or him, you aren't sure? "I'll take you to the nurse. Right? You good to stand?"

You nod and gradually stand up with his help. Your teacher hands you a pile of tissues that you hold close to your face groaning in pain. Alex's hand is on your back trying to guide you the best he can.

"I'm sorry. I just...I wasn't looking. I was an idiot and, and—I don't know."

"Not perceiving?"

"Yeah, that." It's brought a smile to his face and that makes you feel better. You don't want him to hurt too. He's always been a sweet guy.

*

"It's broken."

"Fuck," Alex mutters. 

*

In the following days, with a piece of tape secured on the bridge of your nose and a bruise giving you an undereye coating, you catch Alex's eyes on you throughout the day. They're always filled with concern, desperate for forgiveness even though he won't accept it.

"You're fine," you reassure him in the hallway on the way to the cafeteria. "It was an accident. Besides, it's my new excuse to get a nose job."

"At least let me buy you lunch." You nod and walk together for the first time since your bloody walk to the nurse. "Is it healing alright?"

You shrug. "I think so. I can't really tell. Bruises mean healing."

His hands are stuffed in his trouser's pockets. He's slumped over and somber-eyed. "Sorry about all of that."

You laugh at his constant apologies. "It's fine. I swear. I like bruises. That sounds like I'm a freak."

"Kind of."

You gasp and turn to look at him with a cheeky grin and dirty Reeboks, the only personality to his school uniform. "Hey! You're the inflictor. You're in my debt. You're lucky I'm not suing you. I meant it in an I-Got-Into-A-Fight kind of way."

Alex chuckled. "Are you the type to get into a fistfight?"

"I think I'm more likely than you. You couldn't hurt a fly."

"I hurt you."

You toot. "It's fine. You upped my street cred. Anyone who knows what happened feels sympathy for me and for those who don't I can say things like 'Oh, you should see the other guy.'"

"Okay, then should we continue this routine and I break your leg next time?"

"No, I think I'm good on broken bones but maybe you'll allow me a punch at you."

He toys with you, "Threatening violence? I should tell on you."

You tell him through giggles, "I'd kick your ass if you do."

After he pays for your lunch, he walks you to your lunch table like a poor stray dog. You should start calling him Sandy in the vein of Annie's shaggy orphaned dog. "Thanks, Al."

"My pleasure." He gives a crooked smile. "Oh, and don't get a nose job."

Unsure of what he's said, you question, "Huh?"

"Back there you said..." he points his thumb behind him then shrugs. "Anyway, I like your nose."

You furrow your brows. "Thanks?"

He's blushing and it makes your cheeks flush and you feel like he's attacking you with his cuteness. Like he's a cute drug you're overdosing on. You want to crush him up in between your teeth and digest him completely. (Maybe you've taken too many painkillers). 

"You're pretty. That's all."

You smile back at him, overwhelmed by his flirtatious shyness. "Well, thanks." He turns to walk away but you stop him with "Do you want to sit with us?"

"I don't want to intrude and I've got me friends." He points over to a table in the back corner filled with rowdy boys tossing food at one another.

You shake your head. "You owe me."

"So, I'm gonna be in your debt forever."

You think, tapping your finger on your chin. "Hmm, well, at least for the rest of the year."

He chuckles and sits down beside you. You do have lunch together for the rest of the year but by Day 3 your table and his table mesh and suddenly you're intertwined.

*

The swelling is gone in a week, the bruises are gone after two weeks, the fracture healed in four weeks, and Alex and you date after 5 weeks. You think he first kissed you a week after your doctor told you it was healed for fear that his nose would hit yours and somehow dislodge its position again.

He has a guitar in the corner of his room that you tease him into strumming for you. He looks embarrassed the whole time and it makes it even more charming. He tells you his secret ambitions and you encourage the way his mind moves. It's the perfect Hollywood teen romance.

One evening, you fall onto his bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and your mouth opens under his. Your skin sears as you spread your legs wider to make room for his body. You feel mindless. You move against each other a little while making out. Uncertain shifts and searching grinds, friction, fervency. You've never done this before, what you're about to do, unlike him. You like him being more experienced. It makes you feel as if he's your guidepost.

Your kisses are all tongue, broken by moans and desperate gasps. Your nails dig into his back and you try to stifle the sounds forced from your mouth. He turns his focus onto your neck, licking and sucking, bruising you like a peach. "Let it out."

It's erotic and troubling how much you throb. “I—I want—”

“You want what?”

You roll your hips up against him for real, starting to shake when you feel how hard he is beneath his jeans, and his grip tightens on you like that’s too much for him. You do it again, moaning some more but as loud as you want this time, and find a rhythm. “Fuck,” he rasps, “I’m—fuck. Don’t do that, baby.”

He stops you by the hips. You grunt, “Why not?”

"'Cause if you do I’m gonna come in my fucking jeans."

You force yourself to meet his eyes and hold his gaze as you push your skirt down, before grabbing his hands so they’re pulling your panties and tights down together. He finishes the job when they get to your thighs, and you're suddenly aware that you're wearing nothing down there.

His attention drifts low. His expression takes on weight, and he whispers, “God,” almost like a 'Thank you.' It dissipates any insecurity. He spreads your legs a little wider and then trails his hand down from your knee to your center, stopping just an inch and then moving it back down again. He does it a few more times, and it’s torture. “You sure?”

You nod. “Yes,” you manage, throaty and raw. “Please, do it.”

He grins at that and keeps teasing you, but then gets close again, and this time he doesn’t go back down. Instead, he strokes you, just a brush of a thing, not even inside of you and you're still gasping. Fuck, fuck. “Alex," you manage as some strangulated thing.

“I know,” he whispers, keeps stroking, all infuriatingly slow. "You’re so good.”

When he slips a finger in it’s done carefully, but it has you gasping. You're hit with it: you're really doing this right now. You're in his bed and he’s fingering you. The thought alone is enough to make you lose it.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he says.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t. I—more, I want more—”

A second finger and your back arches. It feels like you're on fire when he finds your clit. The first brush has you whimpering, somehow overstimulated with just that ghost of a touch. He makes it worse by pumping his fingers in and out at just the right angle. He keeps stopping too, building pressure, and the third time you grab his hand to make him keep going. His fingers stroke a spot that has you crying out, and so he keeps going right there, and you hold his wrist, gasping and wanting what you can feel building so bad that you nearly scream.

He won’t give it to you, instead leaning down to kiss you again, smiling through it like maybe he’s enjoying the tease. You bite his lower lip in revenge and he laughs. “Feel good?” he asks.

You can only nod. He smooths your hair back and keeps going, keeps doing both; affectionate strokes and intimate ones with intent, the angle precise and the movements deliberate. When you come, his pace quickens a little and that feels so perfect, and your head falls back, and for a second everything just kind of whites out. Your legs shake and his thumb ghosts your temple. You blink and manage to utter, “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoes, head tilted, fond. Alex kisses your cheek once, twice, three times. “You liked it?”

There’s a tiny bit of anxiety in his voice, which is ridiculous. “I loved it,” you correct.

His responding grin is like a spark to kindling. He says, “Me too.” When he sucks his fingers clean you get a burning fire inside you that you've never felt before. Your lips part. 

Your breathing is shaky as you inhale. “Can we…?”

His forehead falls against yours. “I don’t have, uh—”

“Rubbers?” You ask, coming back to yourself a little now. “That’s okay, I do.”

Alex leans back. “Do you, now?”

“Shut up,” you say, face on fire as you sit up. You find your backpack on the floor and part of this feels ridiculous that you're doing this after school before his parents come home but it feels like the most romantic thing you'll ever get the chance to experience. That first love feeling. “Here.”

Alex takes them with a, “Huh,” and an infuriating grin. It falls a little as he looks back up at you, and his eyes are so brown and comforting. “You really want to? You’re sure?”

You nod. “I wanna.”

The fear is just an underscore to the want, which overpowers everything else. You're safe with him and he’s beautiful and you think if you don't sleep with him right now, tonight, you'll explode or something.

Alex kisses your cheek and then rips open the wrapper with his teeth. You sit on the bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. “We don’t have to do this, y’know.”

“No, I know,” you say, your school cardigan falling off your shoulder. You tuck your hair behind your ears, a nervous habit. “I know that I just want it to be...”

“Perfect?”

“Not perfect." You shake your head, “Good? I don’t wanna look back on this and think about how I was cold the whole time, or how I was insecure, or—”

“Don’t be insecure.”

You give him a dry look. “Yeah, okay, I fixed that problem.”

Alex gets you on your back and nuzzles your nose with his. “I’m just saying I think you’re beautiful.”

Your face scrunches up. “Liar.”

His jaw drops with exaggerated affront. “Excuse me?”

“You’re just trying to butter me up.”

He snorts and glances down. “Pretty sure I already did that.”

“Oh my God, you gonna hang that over my head forever,” you say, all laughing as you wriggle underneath him, and you wrestle like kids for a minute, and then you're just kissing. The rest of the world falls away. It’s just you and him in this bed, and the way you fit underneath him, and the sounds you make when he presses into you. 

He pulls your top off and you can barely breathe before you come back together. He wants to see all of you so fucking badly, wants to touch every square inch of your body, wants to find every freckle and map out the distance between them like a cartographer with kisses.

You yank his shirt over his head and then sort of still, running your hands down the length of his abdomen memorizing it like your flashcards. Then you kiss him with complete need. Your arms wind around his neck and he wraps his around your body, hands searching for the clasp of your bra. He undoes it and leans back to pull it off slowly, eyes on you until it’s gone, and then his gaze falls to your chest.

“Fuck,” he whispers, ragged, you're so— there isn’t even a word. Divine is the only thing that comes close to his mind. He starts kissing and doesn’t intend to stop, insatiably craving your taste. He sucks your skin to bruise, on your collarbone and sternum, right above your heart. He can hear it pounding, an erratic busting beat. He brushes his lips over your left nipple, kissing it softly and feeling it perk, hardening in his mouth as he plays his tongue over it. You start to tug on his hair and he's obsessed with the feeling.

“Alex,” you beg, “please, please—”

He’s listening, but he doesn’t respond. Just moves lower and lower still, running his open mouth down your stomach and only stopping when he’s settled between your legs. Alex eats you out slowly, stroking your thighs and squeezing your hips while you moan and whimper and gasp various words of the ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ variety. He decides that he fucking loves this, it’s his favorite thing on the planet maybe, and he can’t help grinning while he does it. 

When he starts to move back up you try to push him down. “No, no, I’m not done—”

Alex laughs. “I know that, knobhead. Just wait." He knows he’s infuriating you but that’s on purpose too. He fucking loves it when you get all wound up like this. He strips and puts the condom on as quickly as he can manage, and you watch all fascinated, cheeks flushed when you catch sight of his dick. You're sort of sitting up now, so he tugs you back down with a murmured, “Come here.”

He slides in and being inside of you feels ritualistic. You're so warm, and you wrap your body around him as you start to move together. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and he cradles you, wants you to feel so safe, and relishes in every sound you make. Alex pulls your leg over his hip for a deeper angle and your head falls back. “Oh, fuck, yes,” you whine.

He stays right there and fucks you so good and so raw he feels sweat start to bead on his back because he’s been waiting for this for so long and if it doesn’t last for at least a few minutes he might as well die. You're so goddamn pretty under him too, with gentle curves and soft skin as you moan. He does too, can’t help it, doesn’t wanna, just wants to feel this and never forget it.

Your back arches when you come. You grasp at the headboard and cry out and so he lets himself too. You pile on top of one another like that heap in which you first spoke. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters.

You let out a weak noise. Alex turns to you, your faces less than an inch apart. You're all flushed and dazed and he loves it. He bumps his nose against you. “You alright there?”

“Shhh,” you say, with an ineffectual whack to his arm. “I’m...”

He grins. “Me too.”

You nod. You turn onto your side and so he pulls you into him, gathering you up to hold. He pulls the blanket over your bodies as goosebumps rise on your arms. You burrow against him gladly. “Mmm. Warm.”

Alex hums. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” he urges, watching your eyelids flutter shut.

You snort. “So I take it you’re a total girl after sex, huh?”

Alex shrugs. “I was just trying to save you the bladder infection, but I guess I’ll just fuck off.”

That has you scurrying out of his arms with an, “Oh, shit,” and his eyes follow your body shamelessly as you leave him.

*

Later, when you're all dressed and pretending to do homework, you shamelessly ask him, "When can we do that again?"

He looks up all shaggy. He's dressed in his home clothes with a T-shirt and jeans. You're stuck in your school's uniform skirt but with his old sweatshirt overtop, all cutesy in a way that has him biting on the eraser of his pencil. "Oh, no, I've created a sex addict."

You toss your pencil at him, making him chuckle as he catches it. "You seemed to enjoy it just as much as me."

He has a cheeky smirk and looks deeply at you. Then, suddenly, he turns serious, clasping his hands with one another and sitting up straight. "I could pencil you in for Saturday," he says as he flips through his desk calendar.

"Shut up or I'm withholding the goods."

"Exhortation now?"

"I can be one and done. I fear you'd crumble without seeing me naked again. I'm trying to spare pain."

You're so cute it makes everything in him a desperate, clingy spirit and he's not sure how he's going to be able to let you go back home after today. You're so far away, curled up on his bed while he's over at his desk. What is he doing over at his desk?

So, he stands up, walks over, and kisses you.

*

a/n: it's a quick, sweet fic. plenty of other things cooking...thanks!

[iandarling]

The universe is funny when it comes to timing.

Because of course it happens the one day a month Lip and Tami go to couples therapy, which happens to coincide perfectly with Ian’s new wish of doing a cycling class once a week. Somehow the fucking stars aligned perfectly or whatever, and none of them have their phones turned on. So Mickey gets the call.

Freddie fell from the monkey bars and broke his arm.

He’s at home when the phone rings. A frantic teacher is in the ambulance with the crying five year old. She couldn’t get a hold of his parents, so she tried his other emergency contacts. Ian didn’t pick up, but Mickey was listed at his spouse so she tried him.

“Can you meet us at the hospital?” She asks, while trying to soothe the crying child. Freddie seemed to be hysterical.

“Yeah, course- hey put him on so I can talk to him” Mickey answers, already outta the door and on his way down to the garage. He’s no baby talker like Ian, but he sure knows something about broken bones.

“Uh hey Fredster, it’s me -“

“Uncle Mickey?!” Fred interrupts him with a hiccup, crying.

“Yeah, look you’re safe in the ambulance bud and I’m on my to the hospital now. Just…sit tight and listen to the grown ups ok? Hand the phone to your teacher, I need t’know what hospital you’re going to”

Getting to the car to drive to the emergency room, Mickey tried once again to call Ian. Maybe he just didn’t pick up because he didn’t recognise the teacher lady’s phone number. Ian doesn’t fucking pick up.

That means he’s doing this alone. Fuck.

Mickey considers calling Debbie, but he also knows she’s been busy lately with the Rich-And-Definitely-Closeted-Housewife wanting her bathroom tiles replaced, and if he calls to interrupt Debbie now she will skin him alive. She needs the money and he can respect that. Even if that means tackling a crying five year old on his own. Fuck.

Traffic is not bad today so he gets to the emergency room a few minutes after the ambulance. White overhead lights shine bright, the sterile chemical scent is overwhelming, and he walks past several bloody teens on his way to the receptionist, who smiles at him “Hi, how may I help you today?”

“Got a call about my nephew coming in with a broken arm. Fred Gallagher, five years old and uhh” Mickey stammers out, suddenly a little nervous. He fucking hates hospitals, and he especially hates talking to strangers.

“Uncle Mickey!!” A little voice shouts from across the room. Mickey looks up and to the left where he sees his nephew in a chair inside a cubicle looking room. A woman is sitting with him. Probably his teacher.

Without explaining to the (probably perfectly lovely) receptionist, Mickey walks away and hurries towards the crying boy. Freddie is getting out of the chair to meet him halfway, hot tears running down his red face, his arm is in a sling.

“Hey kiddo” He says as he picks him up. Suddenly he’s struck by how tiny he seems compared to his usual self- shit has Freddie always been this small? His legs wrap around Mickeys waist as he hides his face in his uncles chest. Gently rubbing his back like he’s seen Ian do so many times, Mickey tries to shush him.

“Thank you for coming so quickly.” The teacher is thankful, and looks to be calming down now that Mickey has arrived. She’s young, probably fresh outta teacher school or something, and it’s clearly her first broken bone incident. Mickey smiles at her “No worries, I had nothing better to do today”

A nurse enters their room as well as the receptionist. He didn’t fill out the visitors form, and since he’s here maybe he can help fill out the intake form for little Freddie too? The receptionist hold the papers as he fills out the information with one hand.

“Name, age, address yeah yeah, relationship to the patient - uncle”

“Favourite uncle” Freddie whispers.

Smirking, Mickey adds it to the form “relationship to the patient- favourite uncle”. The receptionist giggles.

Ok, so maybe this isn’t as bad as he feared. He can do this.

After the forms are all filled out he sits down on the bed, Freddie now in his lap. The child is still crying but quieter now. Tiny hands grip at his jacket. “He get any painkillers or something?” He asks the teacher, whose name he still didn’t know.

They gave him something in the ambulance she tells him, but the shock is still there so he’s not entirely calm yet. They will give him more meds now that a family member is there to approve it. “Hear that kid? You’re gonna get the good stuff” Mickey tries to joke with him. Freddie doesn’t get it but he seems to be calming down now that his uncle is here.

The same nurse comes back in telling him they need to take pictures of the arm to ascertain the break and how bad it is. Mickey carries him down the hallway to a new room further down the hallway. Freddie is no longer crying hysterically, but he’s clearly in pain and scared. Mickey keeps rubbing his back as it seems to help.

The arm is definitely broken. Apparently it’s a small break so it will be easier to heal. They’re taken into another room where Freddie will get his arm set in a cast. A second nurse comes and gives him more painkillers. He starts to smile now. He’s excited about getting a cast.

“And we can draw on it!” Freddie tells his uncle excitingly. The pain is long forgotten and he’s talking happily to everyone now. “Can you draw me a lion uncle Mickey?”

Mickey has never drawn a lion before but sure how fucking hard can it be. It’s just a big cat right? “Sure bud, but uh we should wait until the cast is dry before I can draw on it”

The nurse smiles as she continues to work on the little boys arm.

Mickey snaps a picture of Freddie, sitting pretty on the hospital bed with his arm on the table. The nurse working on his cast smiles for the picture too. He sends it to the family group chat- hopefully someone else can show up soon. “Kids first broken bone” he texts.

Liam sends a flurry of texts back asking if Freddie is okay. Carl responds with a thumbs up.

Finally, after almost an hour at the emergency room, Tami calls him. They have to turn their phones off at the therapist, something about being fully tuned in or whatever. She’s almost more hysterical than Freddie was an hour ago.

“Ey ey; listen Tams I got him ‘alright? He’s good, getting his cast done as we speak. He’s fucking smiling and all” Mickey tries to calm her down, but it’s not easy. Lip takes over the phone.

“We’re on our way now, Mick. Please let him know and uh, maybe send another picture of him, Tami is really freaked out”. Mickey can tell Lip is just as freaked out as his girlfriend but decided this is not the time to make fun of him.

Mickey turns to Freddie, camera ready. “Hey little man, smile for me. Your mom wants proof of life”. Freddie smiles brighter than the sun. He looks so much like Lip it’s uncanny. The same crooked nose, those damn cheekbones and dirty blond curls. If he hadn’t been so damn cute Mickey would’ve almost felt sorry for him.

“So your mom and dad will be here soon, kid”

As they wait for the kids parents to show up, Fred compiles a whole laundry list of things he wants his uncle to draw on his cast. A lion, a monster truck, a dinosaur, and his house. Mickey has no idea how to draw any of those things, but he’s sure as fuck gonna try. He nods and promises to do his best.

Mickey feels like he is fucking nailing this uncle thing. Who knew?

Liam arrives at the same time as Lip and Tami. He had hopped on the L once he heard of Freddie’s accident.

Tami runs in looking frantically around for her son, Lip right behind her. “Oh thank god!” She screams as she lays eyes on him, kissing every square inch of his face. Fred giggles and Lip lets out a heavy sigh. His son is fine.

“Hey, thanks Mick” Lip claps him on the shoulder in that brotherly way he’s come to expect from him.

“Course, no problem”

It’s not until an hour and a half later that Ian finally turns on his phone.

Asshole