#tonight i’m going through them all lol seeing which is the best

[thesingingrevolution]

everyone!!! i found someone on twitter who has a fancall with winwin sometime in the next week or so and they’ve said they would like to make a compilation of messages from fans to show him! if you would like to share a sweet message with him, you can check the info on this post and send them a dm with your picture 🩷

[rafeysafterglow]

Best friend Rafe where you guys stay together every night innocently (or so you think) and then it turns into smut plzzzz

not so innocent sleepover with bsf!rafe

pairing: bestfriend!rafe x f!reader cw: cunnilingus, fingering, reader receiving oral, rafe being kinda rough, dirty talk, possessive & jealous rafe, every character here is of age, 18+ mdni a/n: my first ask ty (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) also my first time writing smut so i hope i did okay !! i wrote this while rewatching hunger games lol

rafe cameron has been your bestfriend ever since you two were in little diapers. growing up with somebody like him came with its perks, one of them being having a personal bodyguard 24/7. rafe loves to follow you around like a shadow so it wasn't a surprise to you when he offered to have a final sleepover together before you leave for college.

the night started off normal. you convinced him to watch a romcom before bed so now you two are cuddled up on the couch, with a bucket of popcorn in between. there are no boundaries or hidden secrets between you and rafe, so it’s not an unusual occurrence to act like a couple from time to time. the people who don’t know the two of you well already assume you’re a couple. even, new people you meet automatically label rafe as “your boyfriend”, given that you two are always attached by the hip.

these assumptions don’t bother you, most of the time. it only serves as a disadvantage when you try to date yourself. rafe always seems to scare off all your potential suitors. no matter how perfect each guy seemed, rafe always deemed them “not enough for you.”

this time, though, you managed to land yourself in a one-month situationship with a guy you really like, aaron. somehow, you managed to keep it a secret from rafe for this long.

the movie ends and rafe suggests to immediately go to bed. yes, you two share one bed. you were used to it. “i'm just gonna go change and do my skincare first,” you told rafe. “okay, sweet girl,” he nods as he makes his way and plops onto the bed.

minutes later, you walk out of the bathroom, refreshed. “okay i’m ready to-” you stop in the middle of your sentence when you see rafe sitting on the edge of your bed, his face clearly in distress. you approached him slowly. “rafe... what's wrong?”

“who's aaron?” he said, lowly. you pull back in shock. how did he know? he seemed to hear your silent question, “i saw the notif from your phone, ‘babe, what are you doing tonight?’ babe? the fuck?” you realized you left your phone on the bedside table.

the words couldn’t come out of your mouth. he stood and marched his way to you. “you think you can keep a secret from me? i’ve known you my whole life, sweet girl, and i’ve been patient for most of that time. i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“wha-” before you could continue, rafe grabbed your face and smashed his lips onto yours. at first, you hesitated, but the way he was starving for your lips made you give in. you melted into him as he picked you up and threw you onto the bed. he didn’t take even a second before he forced your shorts down. he palmed your pussy through your panties as he sucked on your neck, marking you. you whined for him, desperately.

“use your words, sweet girl. tell me what you want,” he said. he stopped his movements to stare at you directly in the eye. “i want- i want your mouth on me, rafey,” you breathed out. rafe smirks, he knows you only use that nickname of his when you really want something. “good girl.”

he slowly goes down your body, worshipping it with his kisses. he threw your panties away and sucks in a breath. “pretty, and so wet for me.” he dived in without warning. he sucks your clit with such hunger and desperation. he enters a finger in which makes your hips lift and your whines louder.

he continues sucking, hard, and pumping his finger in and out. you jerk against him, but he manages to hold you down with his arm on your stomach. “ya think you can handle another finger, sweet girl?” before you can reply, he enters his middle finger along with his index. he massages the soft, sensitive part inside you which makes your eyes roll in pleasure. your hands grip onto the sheets so hard your knuckles ache.

“uh uh fuck fuck fuck i’m cominggg,” you come, hard, and rafe wastes no time swallowing every last drop. he lets you ride out your high for a minute before inserting a finger again, coaxing your cum out. you can feel the walls of your opening contracting as it pushes the cum out. he makes his way up to you, his mouth glistening.

“you’re mine now. block his number.”

[kyeomofhearts]

Need Somebody | J.WW

+ summary: a heart-to-heart conversation with your best friend leads to an unexpected confession…

+ pair: wonwoo x gn!reader

+ word count: 2.7k

+ content: hurt/comfort, it was never platonic lol, mutual pining, angst, fluff. (I really tried keeping the reader gender-neutral but I’m not 100% sure it is so please lmk if I need to make any changes!)

[borders created by @enchanthings <3]

“So when do you plan on settling down?” Your mother had asked you over dinner. God, you hated the holidays.

Never in your life have you ever dated anyone.

Not that you needed to.

It's not like you haven't had anyone take interest in you either, there would be some people here and there who would pursue you for a bit. You were just simply not interested in them.

Of course, there would be times when you would feel the loneliness creep in even more than usual. But you usually reasoned to yourself that the right person would come with time.

Except tonight happened to be one of those nights.

You see, your family had just left your place a few hours ago. With the holidays coming and going, your family had begun to visit you more often.

Now you obviously loved your family, but man, did they get on your nerves.

Being the youngest amongst your siblings was becoming more difficult as the years passed by. Seeing them get married one by one definitely didn’t help with your case either.

Your mom started to fear for your so-called ‘future’. Which irritated you since you had everything you needed for the most part, that being a well-paying job and a nice place.

Which is exactly what happened today. Your parents (alongside your siblings) started asking you non-stop questions over your love life.

“Mom please don’t,” you tried to keep your tone respectful but it was getting difficult when you weren’t seeing an end to these invasive questions.

“What? All of your other siblings have gotten married… don’t you think that’s it’s time you do too?” Her tone was bordering a slight feeling of concern and stress.

You stayed quiet for a beat, trying to give her a response that would help get her off your back until the next time she saw you.

“We’ve talked about this, I’m not in a rush and surely it will-“ before you could finish your sentence your mom was already finishing it for you.

“-happen with time I know. But don’t you think you are being too picky at this point? Prince Charming doesn’t exist, so stop waiting for him.”

There it was.

Just because you didn’t date around didn’t mean that you were picky.

You just didn’t like wasting your time with the wrong people, that's all it was.

But before you could counter, one of your siblings quickly changed the subject before things eventually escalated into something worse.

And just like that, the rest of your evening had been soured by that single conversation with your mother.

Even hours after your family had left, you still felt bothered by your mother’s disapproving comments.

…

Needless to say, you called the only person who would be awake at one in the morning.

Wonwoo.

You and Wonwoo have been close friends for a few years, having first met in your senior year of college.

At first he was just an acquaintance, someone you thought you would see once in a while. But he somehow happened to be everywhere you were.

You don’t really remember how the two of you actually became friends, it could have been through a mutual friend or class that you shared. But ever since then, the two of you have been inseparable.

You might have had the tiniest crush on him too but you don’t really like thinking about that. You like to think you grew past that stage.

“yn? Is everything okay?” His voice was slightly groggy… shit you might have woken him up.

“Fuck I’m sorry, were you asleep? I’ll leave you-“

What was it with people cutting you off mid-sentence?

“-No I wasn’t. I actually just woke up from my nap, what’s up?”

Wonwoo and his naps. At this point they should not be called naps considering how long he sleeps for.

“Oh you know… just had the best talk with my family.”

You could hear him audibly smile. Wonwoo knew that you didn’t always have the best times with your family, having heard your countless rants throughout the years.

“What did they say this time?” He asked with faux enthusiasm.

“More like what did my mom say. She just kept asking me when I plan on getting married and that I should stop being picky.” As much as you tried to act nonchalant about it, you were really upset by the way things had turned out.

Wonwoo quickly took notice in your slightly wavering voice. It wasn’t normal for you to get emotional over small fights like this. It must have been serious enough for you to remain bothered even after your family had left.

“Hey, don’t take it to heart. I know your mom can say some out of pocket things but try to not let it get to you.” Wonwoo was not the best at comforting people, even he knew that, but he always tried his best to comfort you.

“I know but it’s so…. irritating? Like she told me to stop waiting for Prince Charming as if I’m a little kid.” You wanted to say more but once you started ranting you knew Wonwoo would not be able to keep up.

“I’ve told her so many times that I don’t want to waste my time with the wrong person. I don’t get how she doesn’t understand that!”

Relax. Just take a deep breath and wait for his response.

“Do you want me to come over?”

Even though Wonwoo had been over to your place a numerous amount of times, you still couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat race at the thought of him coming over.

“No, it’s okay I promise. I just wanted to talk to you about it.”

One thing you had learned about Wonwoo was that he was a bit assertive when he was concerned about you.

“Hmmm… doesn’t matter I’m coming over.”

It was always shocking to see him get this bold, seeing how reserved he was with everyone else.

“What was the point in asking then?” You tried sounding annoyed but you knew that your smile was very audible.

“Just wanted to make you feel like you had a choice.” You could hear his cockiness through the phone and somehow, it made your heart do somersaults.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late to be coming over?” Like always, you tried playing it cool, never wanting to show Wonwoo how his words got to you. Maybe he did notice, but if he did, he never said anything about it.

“Never… I’ll see you in ten.”

And just like that he ended the call.

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like when he eventually got a girlfriend. Wonwoo is a good-looking guy, you’re surprised he hasn’t been snatched up yet. Not that you’re worried or anything, but… you know, things will surely change once he finds the one.

Maybe it was you being selfish, but you try to take advantage of the little time you have left before either one of you finds a partner. You know it’s bound to happen at some point, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

It actually took Wonwoo a little over thirty minutes to get to your place, which was weird considering you live pretty close to each other.

What was also weird was that he knocked. He never knocked anymore considering that he had a key to your place.

“Hey, what took you so-“ opening the door you were greeted with a slightly disheveled Wonwoo.

Oh.

Wonwoo’s hands were filled with plastic bags. You could see snacks poking out of through some of the bags and… regular groceries? What grocery store is open at this hour?

“Couldn’t come over empty handed.” He stated simply.

Before he stepped another foot you decided to help him with the load. You could imagine how tiring it must have been for him to carry the bags all the way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Seeing him like this felt oddly comforting. It looked like he was just returning home from a long day at work.

“You really didn’t have to Won…” As much as you liked to play it cool, you couldn’t help but swoon over his actions. It was hard to when he was just so caring.

“But I wanted to… everything I do is by my own will you know,” he softly smiled at you while ruffling your hair.

Before you were able to respond, he quickly offered you your favorite bag of chips.

“Sit down, I’ll put everything away.”

And just like that, he quickly went to work. It helped that he knew where everything went so it didn’t take him long before he joined you on the sofa.

“So… rough night?” He asked gently, despite being so bold through the phone. Seeing your defeated face always put a sour taste in his mouth, which made him more careful with his words.

“You could say that.” You tried to laugh it off, but he knew that you were bothered.

“I know dealing with your family is hard but just know that I’m always here for you.” He lightly grabbed your hands over to his, rubbing soft circles over your palms.

This always seemed to do the trick, seeing your tense shoulders drop into a more relaxed position.

“And I’m grateful for that Won… but sometimes it really gets to me you know?” You tried avoiding looking into his eyes because you knew that one look would break the dam building up in your eyes.

“Maybe she is right… maybe I am being too unreasonable. Like as much as I like to think that the right guy will come through one day… what if he doesn’t?”

This seemed to annoy Wonwoo. He never wanted to see you settle for less, because he knew that you deserved better.

With a sharp inhale, he grabbed your chin to make you look directly into his eyes.

“Never say that again. You should never settle for less. You know better than that.” He was obviously annoyed but not at you. He hated when others tried to make you take less than what you truly deserve.

His fingers on your chin stayed, making your skin slightly tingle from his touch.

As great as he was at comforting you, the thoughts of him someday not being able to be there for you started to cloud your mind. It was bound to happen, either you or Wonwoo would find someone and eventually stop hanging out. Wonwoo seemed to notice the shift in your sadness, eyes becoming glossy.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he muttered softly.

“It’s nothing,” you weren’t sure if he actually heard your response since it was barely audible to you.

Wonwoo gave you that look. The one he always used when he wasn’t convinced by your responses. You didn't want to tell him about your fear because it would then expose your feelings for him. And that was one thing you could never risk, your friendship. No matter how strong your feelings would get, you couldn't let him become aware of them.

“Talk to me,” his eyes were pleading. He just wanted you to completely open up to him the way he did with you.

There was no way out of this. Obviously, you weren’t going to tell him the actual reason behind your sadness. You had to give him something to get him off your trail.

“Well, it’s just that sometimes it does feel lonely. And having my mom point out the obvious makes me feel like a lost cause. I’m also not getting any younger, so now I feel like I have to rush into something or else my ‘good’ years would have gone to waste…” While this wasn’t the actual thing that was bothering you tonight, it was at least something believable.

Wonwoo seemed to have bought it, since he stopped giving you those judging eyes. He stayed quiet, most likely trying to find the right thing to say.

He cleared his throat after a beat or so.

“Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something else bothering you, if you don’t want to tell me then just say that.”

How? How did he know you that you were lying?

Maybe this was your chance. Your chance to tell him how you felt about it because if you truly thought about it, there was no future with him either way. Either he rejects you or he finds someone, they both lead to you not being in his life in the future.

You took in deep breath, gathering all of your courage before speaking.

“If I tell you, please don’t judge me-“

He immediately cut you off, “Why would I judge you?”

“Please just let me finish, it’s already hard enough having to tell you.” Again, you avoided his eyes, fearful of seeing any sort of judgment in them.

“Look, I know we’ve been friends for a while now… and I’ve been so happy with that, I really have. It’s just that… one day we won’t have each other.”

As much as you tried not looking at him, your eyes landed on his. They looked solemn. You could already tell that he knew where the conversation was going.

“Eventually, we’ll have our own partners-” your voice was beginning to shake, becoming harder to hide your sadness.

“yn stop.” But before Wonwoo could get another word in, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His hands had snaked their way up to your neck, gently cradling your face. His touch was gentle, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

You were stunned, to say the least. Even as he pulled away, you couldn’t find any words to say. It was as if he had taken your breath away.

“I tried taking it slow, I really did, but I can’t continue seeing you like this. I like you yn, I really do. I was too scared of ruining our friendship so I didn't say anything, but I hate to see you think that no one wants you… because I do.”

You didn’t even notice you had started crying, only feeling Wonwoo's thumbs wipe your tears away.

He continued, “I’m not even sure if you feel the same way about me, but I really need you to know that you are not unloveable.”

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Especially now that you knew that Wonwoo liked you back, you felt elated.

Wonwoo on the other hand… felt terrified. While he didn’t regret confessing his feelings towards you, he was certainly scared. He didn’t even know if you reciprocated those same feelings. It also didn’t help that you were being quiet. The silence that was once comfortable to him was beginning to feel suffocating. But before his thoughts could escalate any further, your voice was able to snap him out of his daze.

“Do you really mean it?” You knew it was stupid to ask, considering Wonwoo was not the type to stay stuff like this without meaning it. But the little voice in your head didn’t buy it one bit, so you needed the reassurance to silence those thoughts.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo answered, “Of course.”

“Okay, well… I do too. Like you, that is…” Your face was beginning to burn up. This was so embarrassing. God, you felt like a teenager again, except this time you actually did get your happy ending.

But like the two idiots you were… you didn’t move a single inch. Were you supposed to hug? High-five? Kiss again? This has never happened to you before, either you rejected the guy or pretended that it never happened. What were you supposed to do?

“So….” Wonwoo’s voice was quiet and awkward.

To be fair, neither of you were expecting to confess to each other tonight. Obviously, now that you both know that you have mutual feelings for each other… the next step would be dating right? Or is that too soon? You have been friends for a while now so it wouldn't be that unreasonable... right?

Wonwoo grabbed a hold of your hand, weaving his fingers with yours. You could see the tips of his ears turn a bright pink before he cleared his throat.

“Do you… want to be my-” Wonwoo was visibly cringing as he said it out loud. It was a no brainer, but he still wanted to ask you, to make it official.

“-Yes. I would be an idiot to say no.”

[ᝰ.ᐟ] hey guys! i know i haven’t been active lately and i’m really sorry about that. school has been so overwhelming for me so i struggled finding the time to write, which brings us to this! i wrote this i think… last year? not too sure but i tried editing it a little but there might be some errors here and there so please excuse that 🥹 also i am still working on part three for Back for More so stay tuned for that!

[usomads]

Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!

Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process. 

“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.

“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.

“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away. 

“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”

“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.

“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe. 

“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing. 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him. 

“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?” 

“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.

“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.

“Sucio…” 

“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.

“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.

“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”

“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”

“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.

“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”

“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”

“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.

“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.

“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”

“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”

“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?

“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”

“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-” 

“Still thinking about Dom…” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you…  only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.

“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.

“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?” 

“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him. 

“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?” 

“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.

“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him. 

“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.

“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.

“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.

“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.

Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.

He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”

“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.

[itneverendshere]

lovee bartender!reader and rafe soo much, theyre daydream content fr!!! <3 if it takes your fancy, maybe a little piece where readers tired so she puts her pride away and does go to rafe for help (even if only for something very small) and hes just elated, ecstatic, all the words for it! that man is always so stressed, need him to have some peace LOL

she eventually becomes a little less headstrong about his help so this when she finally really understands that’s is okay to need someone else sometimes 🙂‍↕️🫂 thank you for the request! and also thank you for loving them too 🫶🏻

year dark night and now i see daylight - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

You wiped down the bar for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 

The lights glinted off the glasses, making you squint. You were so tired. Your legs felt like they would give out at any moment, and the tension in your shoulders was making your neck ache, but there was no time to stop. 

There was never any time to stop.

You’d been running on fumes for days now—maybe weeks?—but who was counting? Not you, clearly. Because taking a break or slowing down?

That just wasn’t in your vocabulary. You were fine. You could handle it. You always handled it. You didn’t need help.

The headache you’d been ignoring was getting worse, though, creeping behind your eyes, making you blink more than usual. Your hands were shaky, and if you were being honest with yourself (which you rarely were these days), your body was running on empty. But still, there was work to do, and people needed drinks, and you weren’t about to let anyone think you couldn’t do your job.

You paused, gripping the edge of the bar a little tighter than necessary when the room seemed to tilt, just for a second. That was new. You sucked in a slow breath, trying to steady yourself. 

Nope. Not now. Can’t do this here. 

There was no way you were going to break down in the middle of your shift, in front of everyone. You’d tough it out like you always did.

“Hey!” Your co-worker voice cut through the pain, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was waving you over to another table where more customers had just sat down.

Perfect. More people. Just what you needed.

You forced your feet to move, pushing through the exhaustion as best you could. 

You felt that familiar wave of anxiety, your new best friend, but you shoved it down like always.

You could handle it. You had to. Because asking for help? Letting someone see you weren’t doing okay? That was never an option. Except…maybe this time, it was.

You hesitated behind the bar, staring blankly at the group that had just sat down. They could wait a minute, right? Just one minute to pull yourself together. You’d earned that, at least.

Before you knew it, your phone was in your hand, thumb hovering over one name in your contacts: Rafe.

You hated asking for help. He worried about you enough as it was, constantly telling you to slow down or take it easy. You usually brushed him off. But tonight…tonight felt different. You were running on nothing but pride and stubbornness at this point, and even that was starting to crack.

Swallowing hard, you hit Call.

It rang twice before you heard his voice. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” Rafe sounded surprised—probably because you never called him when you were working. You could hear the concern creeping in already.

You squeezed your eyes shut, hating how vulnerable you felt just by calling him. “Can you—uh, can you come pick me up? I’m kinda…done.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end, like he was processing the fact that you, of all people, were asking for help. When he spoke again, his voice was almost relieved. “Yeah, ‘course. I’ll be there in ten. Don’t move, okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, the tight knot in your chest loosening just a little.

Hanging up, you slumped against the counter, finally letting yourself breathe. Ten minutes. You could make it ten more minutes.

Rafe arrived faster than you expected, his tall frame pushing through the double doors of the club. His eyes locked onto you immediately, and the second he saw you, his tough guy expression dropped. You didn’t realize how close you were to falling apart until you saw the way he was looking at you. 

“You okay?” he asked, crossing the bar in a few quick strides, his hand already reaching for yours.

For once, you didn’t brush him off with a quick “I’m fine.” You just shook your head, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in that way that made you feel safe, like it was okay to just not be strong for a second. You hadn’t noticed how badly you needed this—how badly you needed him—until now. Rafe’s chin rested against the top of your head, and you could feel his heart beating under your cheek.

When you finally pulled back, he didn’t let go right away, his blue eyes searching your face. His brow furrowed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing softly along your cheek. You must’ve looked worse than you thought because the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You really weren’t kidding about being done, huh?” His voice was gentle, but you could hear the hint of frustration in it. Not at you, but at the fact that you’d been pushing yourself this hard without saying anything sooner.

You gave him a weak smile, trying to shrug it off. “Yeah, I guess I went a little overboard this week. But I’m fine now. You’re here.”

He sighed, shaking his head but pulling you closer again, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back, “You’re gonna give me a heart-attack before thirty.”

You bit your lip, that familiar guilt settling in your chest. You knew he was right. You knew he worried all the time, every single day. But admitting you needed help—especially to him—took a lot of energy, like ripping away the last bit of control you had. And control was how you survived. How you kept everything in check.

He wasn’t going to think less of you for it. If anything, he looked elated that you’d let him in, that you trusted him enough to ask. You nodded, feeling the tears start to prick the back of your eyes. “I know. I just—” You broke off, not really knowing how to explain it. “I keep doing this. I’m sorry.”

“I got you,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you home.”

The quiet of the truck felt like a much-needed break from everything, the engine lulling you into something close to sleep. You hadn’t realized just how tense you were until now, with the night air coming through the window and Rafe’s hand resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin.

You leaned your head back against the seat, watching the headlights of passing cars flash by. It felt weird to not be constantly thinking about what came next, what else needed to get done, or how much work you still had to finish. For once, it was like your brain was actually giving you a break, like it was saying, “Yeah, okay, you can relax now. You’re not alone.”

You glanced over at Rafe, his jaw set in concentration as he drove, but the way his fingers held onto you so gently told you everything. He hadn’t said much since you left the club, but you didn’t need him to.

“Are you hungry?” 

You blinked, realizing you hadn’t even thought about food. You weren’t really sure if you were hungry or just exhausted. “Not really,” you admitted. “I just wanna get home.”

Rafe nodded, giving your leg a gentle squeeze. “Okay. Almost there.”

You let out a breath, grateful that he didn’t push. He never did. It was one of the reasons being with him felt so easy, even when everything else in your life felt overwhelming. He never tried to fix things for you, never made you feel like you were weak for needing help. He just showed up—every time.

The minutes passed, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to his place. The sight of his house—your second home at this point—made your anxiety loosen even more. You didn’t have to do anything here. No one needed you to be “on.” You could just…exist.

“You good?” he asked, offering his hand to help you out.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you mumbled, though your body still felt like it might give out if you let yourself relax too much. You took his hand anyway, letting him help you down.

Once you were inside, you kicked off your shoes and practically collapsed onto the couch, feeling the cushions sink under you like they were the softest thing in the world. You pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them as Rafe moved around the room, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over you before sitting down next to you, close but not smothering.

He knew exactly how to handle you—how to be there without overwhelming you. He just sat there, his arm slung over the back of the couch, waiting for you to speak or not speak, whatever you needed. And that’s when it hit you how lucky you were to have him.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not really sure why the words came out, but feeling like you had to say something.

Rafe frowned, his hand brushing over your shoulder. “For what?”

“For… I don’t know. For not telling you sooner that I was struggling. For always acting like I can handle everything when I clearly can’t.”

He shook his head, giving you that soft smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world. “You don’t have to apologize for that, baby. I know you. You you don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

You bit your lip, “I just don’t want to feel like I’m dumping all my shit on you.”

Rafe leaned in a little closer, his hand now resting on your knee. “You’re not dumping anything on me. We’re in this together. I love you, and I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, but this time it wasn’t from stress. It was from the realization that he was right.

He’d always been right and you knew it, it just took you months to process it.

You exhaled, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I love you too,” you whispered, the words feeling more powerful now, more real.

Because this wasn’t just love. This was trust.

He kissed the top of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair as he pulled you closer. He wasn’t frustrated or upset. He was just there, in that patient way that made you fall for him in the first place.

"You’re really too good to me, you know that?" you said softly, tracing your finger over the back of his hand.

He shook his head. “Nah, you deserve it. Besides, it’s not like you make it easy for me to help.”

He said it teasingly, but there was truth in his words. You knew you had a habit of trying to do everything on your own, shutting people out when you felt overwhelmed.

You looked down, feeling a little sheepish. "Yeah, I know. I’m working on it."

"Hey," he said, gently tilting your chin up so you were looking at him again. "I’m kidding. I’m here for you, okay?”

Your heart did that little flip thing it always did when he said stuff like that, like you couldn’t believe someone could love you that much, but at the same time, you knew it was true. 

“If I mess up again, just remind me that you said I don’t have to be perfect."

He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. “You know, you’re probably gonna fall asleep on me right here.”

You smiled, your eyes already half-closed. “Maybe that’s the plan.”

You knew he was grinning without looking, feeling it he leaned down to kiss the top of your head again.

“Okay, but you’re definitely not getting out of taking care of yourself tomorrow. I’m making you pancakes in the morning. You’re eating, and you’re not gonna fight me on it.”

“Mmm, pancakes sound good,” you mumbled, already feeling the pull of sleep creeping in. “But only if you make the chocolate chip ones.”

“Deal.”

Wrapped up in his arms, the world outside of this little bubble didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢

𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

୨ৎ pt. i

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: A reflection on the events that led you to your current predicament, in which you've been caught sneaking out of your best friend's mother's room... by your best friend... oops!

Content/Warnings: major canon divergence (see author's note), nsfw, reader is referred to w fem pronouns/has fem anatomy, top!ambessa, bottom!reader, age gap, oral (r receiving), sneaky library sex fuckkkk

A/N: fair warning! i am fully aware of the creative liberty i had to take here to craft a story in which mel and ambessa have a solid enough relationship that this was not a major betrayal on reader's behalf. i'm trying to strengthen my angst writing skills, but unfortunately, it just won't be at mel's expense lol. i'm sorry if you all were hoping for something angstier, but i just can't do nhe yet, so i hope you enjoy what i did write!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

It’d been about three months since you’d met your best friend’s mother. “She can be a bit… frosty,” Mel had warned, “but don’t mind it. She isn’t as scary as she likes people to think she is.”

That much, you would come to learn in the following months. 

At first, Ambessa refused to entertain the idea of having you; refused it in the daylight, at least. She couldn’t help where her mind wandered when her only company was the moonlight streaming in through her windows and a candle's flame dancing on her nightstand. 

Even then-even after knowing full well that she’d coaxed herself to sleep with images of you flickering behind her closed eyes and a hand in between her legs to accompany them-she refused to act on her attraction.

Ambessa was an esteemed Noxian general. Feared and respected by elites across the world. A grown ass woman. She did not “sneak around.”

And especially not with the girl seated next to her daughter at tonight’s progress day gala, who was giggling about something superficial, something childish, she automatically assumed. No- if Ambessa was going to share her precious time and affections with someone, they would need to match her wits and wisdom. They would need to be able to keep up with her. 

So, she brushes off how beautiful the young lady's berry-colored smile is, and scans the room for the nearest table of champagne flutes. 

She’d never been one for these events. There was always something better to do than stand around and make idle chit-chat, she thought. If there weren’t soldiers to command or negotiations to be made, there was at least a book that she was dying to get home to. In fact, that reminded her of the cliffhanger she left off on before she- “Not one for galas, I presume?” Annoyingly so, the sudden inquiry pulls her from the solace of her trailing thoughts. 

Her agitation is quickly extinguished when a berry-colored smile comes into view. 

Not that you can tell. She still looks as disinterested as ever.

“What makes you say that?” She deadpans, her rich voice smooth and steady. You thank the Gods that you’d chosen a long-sleeved gown to wear tonight, for if not, she’d surely see the goosebumps traveling down your arms.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feigning a casual confidence. “The brooding, perhaps.”

She cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly at your boldness. 

You don’t miss the corner of her mouth pulling up into an amused smirk. 

“I’m only kidding,” you smile back. “I just have a knack for spotting fellow introverts.” “You seem to be enjoying yourself well enough,” she muses, gesturing to where Mel spearheads the table’s conversion. 

“I enjoy Mel,” you correct, “and when your best friend asks you to play wingwoman for the night because the object of her affections is on the guestlist, you don’t say no.”

A low chuckle escapes the general. 

“Talis?”

“How did you know?” 

“How could I not? The girl is obsessed.”

This time, a chuckle of your own.

“She’s… insistent. Decides she wants something, and won't relent until she has it. But, she utilizes her ambition to fight for what’s right,” you continue, a warm smile now seated on your lips, “and for that, I have boundless respect and admiration for her.”

Ambessa feels her heart wrench.

Guilt.

If there was anyone who deserved someone as supportive as you in their corner, it was Mel. She would not get in between that. 

Not that she had begun to humor the idea of having you, anyway.

“She’s a wonderful girl,” Ambessa remarks softly.

You look over just in time to catch the somber expression with which Ambessa watches her daughter light up the room. She’s quick to school it when she sees you turn, taking a sip of her champagne.

Your words are soft, spoken with an undercurrent of understanding.

“She speaks highly of you.”

The muscle of Ambessa’s jaw tightens for a split second.

“She does?” she asks with a raised brow, trying her best to feign indifference, but you aren’t ignorant of the tumultuous path that has led the two women to their relationship today. They had both worked hard for the bond they now shared, and Ambessa treasures that bond more than she’s ever treasured anything else. 

“She does,” you affirm. “You’ve raised an excellent girl. You’ve also raised a literature fiend, who I can assure you is currently raving about all three of the books she plans to finish by the end of the month.”

Ambessa punches out a laugh. That’s when Mel’s head snaps in her mother’s direction; when she finds that you were the source of her mother’s laughter; when she’s thrust into the crisis that would plague her for months:

“Oh Gods… why do I like them together?!”

She wouldn’t dare speak of this revelation. 

You wouldn’t dare speak of being pressed against a library door with her mother’s lips trailing down your neck.

You’d both taken to roaming the halls of whoever’s estate this was after deciding that reprieve from the crowd would be more than welcome.

The library’s doors had been wide open, its walls of books luring you in. 

“Ooh,” you’d murmured mischievously, “shall we pop in and judge someone’s taste?”

Ambessa rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but follows closely behind anyway. 

“And what is your taste, dear?” she asks. 

With bright eyes and excited words spoken a bit too fast, you go on to share your favorite books and why they'd earned the distinction. She rears her head back, brows raised. 

“I must say… I’m impressed,” she admits. “You’ve mentioned some of my favorites as well.”

“Go on then,” you urge, taking a seat in a wingbacked chair, “I know you’ve got a thesis just waiting for an audience.”

She chortles, leaning against the desk in front of you. “Do you have a knack for spotting fellow bookworms, too?” 

You shrug with a smirk. “What can I say? I’m perceptive.” 

A smirk graces her lips as she scans you, but the look in her eyes is unreadable. It’s abandoned, anyway, when she begins discussing her interpretation of one of her favorite works; and when you interject with a counter thesis that truly has her stumped, she knows she’s screwed. 

She wanted someone who could keep up with her, didn’t she?

So now, here you are, lips swollen from where they were just pressed against her own until you couldn’t breathe. Her grip is firm around your waist as she cages you against the library's tall wooden door and trails open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Her hand snakes up your figure to tangle into your hair and tugs to expose more of your neck. She leaves a nip over your pulse, slides a muscled thigh in between your legs, and when you gasp as she presses in, she finally pulls away to lock eyes with you.

Her composure sends a chill down your spine.

“My daughter comes first,” she asserts. “Always. If at any point either of us believes that this arrangement could bring her harm, we cease immediately.”

Her words are sobering. You think of what this could mean for your friendship if Mel ever found out; of how on earth she’d possibly feel, of what on earth she’d possibly say. 

You’d cross that bridge when you got there, you finally resign, because you’re already soaked through your underwear.

“Of course,” you breathe with a nod. “I understand completely.”

A wicked smirk spreads across her face. She takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Good girl,” she croons; and when your jaw goes slack, she takes the opportunity to thumb at your bottom lip before the digit slides over its plush to rest on your tongue. 

Without thinking, you suck. 

“Very good.”

She pulls her thumb from your mouth with a pop, smearing a bit of your dark red lipstick on your chin in the process. 

“Your gown is lovely,” she muses innocently, as if she isn’t sinking to her knees and rucking up the dark red fabric. 

You stare down at her with wide, desperate eyes, your hand darting out to grab at her shoulder for support. 

“I apologize,” she suddenly chimes, slowly pulling your thin garment of lace and cotton down and out of her way, “we’ve already established a mutual disinterest in small talk, haven’t we?”

And then, she disappears underneath the gathered material of your dress. You brace yourself, hoping to the Gods you don’t come embarrassingly fast, but considering the way your legs twitch as soon as she brushes against your arousal, the odds are not in your favor. 

You feel your face heat up when she speaks up to confirm what a mess you are for her. 

“So wet for me already, darling. Do discussions on literature always turn you on this much?”

Your breathless chuckle is cut off by a whine when she presses her nose against your clit, her mouth hovering just over the slick pooling at your entrance. 

“You’re being mean,” you fuss, bucking your hips forward. 

She places a kiss upon the bud of nerves aching for attention, and a chuckle rumbles deep in her chest, sending vibrations through your core that have you clenching around nothing. 

“Oh, child,” she coos, tossing one of your legs over her strong shoulder, “You have no clue what mean is.”

You inhale sharply through gritted teeth as she finally licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Her mouth never leaves you, immediately closing around your pearl to suck; hard. 

You let out a squeak, earning yourself a quick pinch on the plush of your hip where she rests her hand.

“Make another noise and I’ll stop. You need to learn to be quiet if this arrangement is what you want.” 

You nod fervently. “Okay,” you exhale, tapping her shoulder in a desperate plea for her to continue, “okay, I’m sorry.”

She drags her tongue through your slick again, draws a circle around your clit with the muscle, dips into the nectar now dripping down your thighs.

“Such a messy girl,” she mocks, mouth still pressed against you. You bite down hard on your lip as she returns to her ministrations. Her tongue laps at your clit steadily now, only stopping every few moments or so to lap at the sweet taste of your arousal. 

Your chest heaves with labored breaths, and your legs are starting to shake. You're nearly delirious on her mouth, her languid strokes coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. 

She brings a thick finger to your entrance, but doesn’t even get the chance to press into you before you gasp, urgently whispering, 

“I’m so close- I’m gonna come.”

She chuckles knowingly. That much was obvious. Her finger slides up to part you like flower petals, and when her mouth latches onto your clit once more, you throw your head back against the door, hand flying over your mouth to conceal the whimper that escapes you. 

Your breath is jagged as you come down; that is, until she stands up and splays a hand across your stomach.

“Breathe, child.” It’s a command, leaving no room for disobedience. 

You take a deep breath in, eyes fluttering open on exhale. She stares down at you with something like pride. Approval. 

“How do you feel?” She asks, gently pulling your underwear back into place. With the handkerchief previously folded up in her back pocket, she first wipes at the smudge of berry-red lipstick adorning your chin, wipes your slick from her own mouth, and then folds it over to dab at the slick on your thighs before tucking it into her bra this time. She gingerly adjusts your dress, straightens your necklace, smooths out your hair. 

“Good,” you smile. “Really good.”

“Do you need a moment before we rejoin the party?” 

“I’m okay,” you shake your head. 

Her eyes narrow as if to ask if you’re sure. 

“Really. I’m fine. Unless I still look… you know…”

“Ravished?”

You chuckle shyly. “Y-yes…that.”

For the first time that you’ve ever seen, her eyes are warm. She tucks a tendril of hair behind your ear. 

“You look beautiful, darling.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Another three months had passed since. Months of stealing glances across extravagant dining room tables, or staying up all hours of the night in her study to discuss the books you were currently reading, or sneaking off to her bed chambers to let her devour you like a woman starved. 

You spare one last glance over your shoulder at the sleeping woman. You both knew the drill; you’d spend your nights together, accompanied only by the high moon and candlelight, but by day, Mel came first. 

Mel, who is now staring at you with a slack jaw, wondering why in the Gods’ names you’re tiptoeing out of her mother’s bedroom.

You were usually more careful, sneaking back down to Mel’s room where she thought you’d been all night before the sun even had the chance to break the horizon. You’d been less disciplined this morning, far less inclined to leave Ambessa with empty arms after she’d officially declared that she wanted you to be hers. Still, you'd be able to play it off perfectly well, you thought. You’d just pretend to have gotten up to use the bathroom or to fetch a glass of water. Neither of which necessitated being in Ambessa Medarda’s room. This unfortunate fact hits you like a train when you lock eyes with Mel. 

Your jaw goes slack, the color drains from your face, and your stomach drops.

As much as you try-as much as you want to- you can’t say anything. You’re not sure whether to be relieved or terrified when Mel speaks first instead.

“I’ll just… right… I’ll be in the kitchen. Having breakfast. You know. As one does.” 

You watch in horror as she awkwardly scrambles away, and tears prick your eyes as soon as she’s out of sight.

“My daughter comes first,” Ambessa had said. “If at any point either of us believes that this arrangement could bring her harm, we cease immediately.”

Your mind is racing. You wonder at what point this went too far, at what point you should have called it; and then, eventually, you figure that all this wondering will get you nowhere. 

Nothing would change the fact that you’ve been sneaking around with your best friend’s mother, and nothing would change the fact that now, she knows.

There was only one thing to do: be a big girl and face the music. 

You pad down the stairs, stomach twisting in knots when you begin making your way down the hall leading to the kitchen. You swear you’re about to hurl when you round the corner to find Mel and Jayce seated on barstools at the marble island, speaking in urgent, hushed voices. 

As much as you would have rather disappeared completely in this moment, you clear your throat instead, making your presence known. 

Jayce shoots up, running a hand through his hair. 

Damn it, you think, he only does that when he’s nervous. 

“I’ll, uh, leave you girls to it...” 

Your lips press into a thin line as he walks past you, leaving you alone with Mel. You take a step forward, wrapping your arms around you. 

“Mel…” you begin, voice already breaking, “I don’t… I don’t know where to begin.”

She rises from her seat, steeling herself for the conversation with a deep breath and a clenched jaw. Her green eyes bore into you. 

“Very well, then,” she begins, crossing her arms in front of her. “You can start by telling me how long this has been going on.” 

“Um…” 

You chew your lip, brows furrowing in an anxious concentration as you parse through the past few months for the beginning of your escapades with Ambessa. 

“It’s been about-”

Mel’s hand flies up to cover her mouth. 

A confused look appears on your face. Bit of an early reaction, you think…

And then, she snorts. 

She’s laughing. 

“Oh Gods, I can’t possibly keep this up; darling, you look like you’re about to faint.”

“What?” You whisper, eyes darting across her features as you try to make sense of what on Earth is going on. 

“Y/n,” Mel begins, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I know you’ve been seeing her.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. 

“What?! How?”

“Oh, please. I know a woman in love when I see one.”

Your jaw is slack, eyes narrowing in disbelief until, finally, you exhale. Your hand flies to your racing heart, relief washing over you. 

She isn’t angry. 

“In fact,” she continues, handing you a glass of orange juice, “I’ve been harboring a bit of a secret myself.”

You raise a brow, urging her to continue as you sit down on one of the stools.

“I'm quite positive that the two of you are a great match.”

You choke mid-sip. 

“What?” You cough, clumsily wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“It’s true,” she muses. “I’ve thought so since seeing her laugh with you at the progress day ball a few months ago. My mother doesn’t laugh.”

You chuckle at the assertion, though she’s completely serious.

“Then why try setting me up with all of those different people?” You wonder outwardly. 

“Tell me you wouldn’t have gotten suspicious if I’d suddenly stopped utilizing my impeccable matchmaking abilities,” she begins. “You would have started wondering if there was something wrong, and you know I can’t lie to you, so then I would have had to admit that the person I really thought you should be set up with was my mother.”

You giggle at the thought of that conversation, and Mel takes a seat beside you, resting her chin in her palm. 

“I do wish you’d told me,” she says softly. “I don’t like this secret-keeping business.”

A pang of guilt pierces you. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry, Mel. It really wasn’t ever supposed to go this far, but…”

“Here you are,” she states with a shrug and a knowing grin. 

“Here I am,” you repeat.

Mel shoots you a wink. “I know a woman in love when I see one.”

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Taglist: @ya-boi-v

[coquitokisses]

Back Together | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader, (husband!Bucky Barnes x wife!reader, dad!Bucky Barnes x mom!reader)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings/Tags: Bucky being dad and hubby material, fluff, angst maybe?

Summary: Bucky and reader are married and have two girls, but because of Bucky’s work, reader decides to “break up” and have been separated for a few months. (Let’s say that this “job” was when the whole thing with John Walker happened in TFATWS, idfk lol)

A/N: so I’m currently writing a fanfic (on wattpad) and I had this idea, but I’m not there on the fanfic just yet lol so I decided to just post it here (also, my first language isn’t english so if there are any errors or mistakes, I’m sorry lmao)

The girls are like 4 and 5 years old and those aren’t the names I have planned on using for the fanfic, but it’ll do for now.. and Steve is alive and well lol (he doesn’t make an appearance, but I do mention him, like I said, this idea came as I was writing a fanfic so what I did was try and edit it a little bit so yall don’t need context and shit lol just enjoy okay?)

A/N #2: this is my first time doing this so just bare with me please lmao

It’s almost 10 pm which means Bucky must be on his way to bring the girls back after having them for the weekend. You were away in Seattle the whole weekend for work, but anyways it was Bucky’s turn to stay with the kids. They were supposed to stay with Wanda tonight, but since you arrived earlier than anticipated, you told her that Bucky was gonna bring them over.

You’re not on the best terms. Actually, you’re broken up at the moment and have been like that for like three months now. It all started because of Bucky’s “job”. You always said that he wasn’t being careful with the things he did and you didn’t like the constant worrying about him every time he went out to do his things. He didn’t really see it that way which made you get into a really bad fight and you decided to break up because he wasn’t putting his safety, or his family, as a priority and you didn’t like that.

Which was kinda true. So you’re currently not living together. Bucky has been staying with Steve, or with Sam whenever he comes to New York. The girls usually stay with you and then Bucky takes them on the weekends, but whenever you can’t take them to school (or get them on time) or something on week days, then Bucky takes them without a problem.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick them up for you?” Wanda asked while on FaceTime with you

“It’s alright, red, don’t worry.” You replied “Besides, Bucky’s probably on his way anyway.”

“Still haven’t talked?”

“Well we talk, just not about us.” You said walking out of the kitchen

“And are you guys still, like, mad or..?”

“I don’t know.” You let out a sigh

“Steve told you he got out.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“I just.. I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him about it.”

“Well I think you need to.” She said “Just have a little chat and see where things are at.. you guys still love each other.”

And you did. Of course you did. And the girls want you to get back together too. But you just haven’t talked about it again.

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You replied and just as you said that, you saw the car lights through the window “He’s here, I gotta go.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will, love you.”

“Love you more.”

You hung up the call and left the phone on the couch before heading to the door. You opened it and saw Bucky walking over to the house holding Olivia, your youngest, in his arms and Eloise was walking right next to him. And the three of them just looked tired as hell.

“Hi mommy.” Eloise ran over to you

“Hi, pretty girl.” You immediately hugged her

“Say hi to mama, Liv.” Bucky said as he got closer

“Hi mama.” Olivia opened her arms wanting you to pick her up so you did

“Hi, my angel.” You kissed her cheek

“Sorry to bring them so late, we just got out of the cinema.” Bucky said

“Buck, it’s fine, they don’t even go to school yet.” You told him “Did you guys have fun?” You asked the girls

“So much fun!” Eloise replied excitedly “We also went to the trampoline park earlier.”

“Oh well that explains why someone’s a little more tired than others.” You looked at Olivia and she rested her head on your shoulder

“Mommy, can daddy tuck us in tonight, please?” Eloise asked

“Baby, I’m sure mommy had a really long and tired flight and she just wants to sleep.” Bucky told her

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You said “Daddy will tuck you in, sweetheart.” You tucked a few strands of Eloise’s hair behind her ear

“Daddy, come on.” She grabbed Bucky’s hand

You all went inside and you gave the girls a quick shower before Bucky helped them get in their pjs.

“Mommy, are we staying with auntie Wanda tomorrow?” Eloise asked as she got on her bed

“Yes, baby, I need to go to work.” You replied

“Can’t we stay with daddy?”

“Daddy works too, honey.” You moved her hair out of her face “I thought you liked staying with auntie Wanda.”

“We do, but we wanted to stay with daddy again.” Olivia spoke

“Well I can pick you up at auntie Wanda’s house when I get out of work, how does that sound?” Bucky told them

“And we can get dippin dots too?” Olivia looked at him with puppy eyes

“We can get whatever you girls want.” He said squishing her cheeks making her giggle

You couldn’t help but smile a little. You loved watching Bucky with the girls, he really is an amazing father and they love him like crazy.

“Alright it’s getting super late, time to sleep.” You said to them

“But mom!” Eloise pouted

“No buts, listen to your mom.” Bucky said “Come on, get in bed both of you.”

Each of the girls got in their beds and Bucky went and tucked them both. They have their own separate rooms, but they’re pretty close and they’ve always wanted to sleep in the same room so when the time came and you bought Olivia her big girl bed, Bucky just placed it in Eloise’s room. Anyways, when the time comes when they get to the point where they don’t even want to look at each other, you’ll probably make Bucky move Olivia’s bed back to her room and problem solved. But for now, they absolutely love being in the same room.

“I love you.” Bucky kissed Olivia’s forehead “And I love you.” He then kissed Eloise’s “So so much.”

“We love you too, daddy.” They said

“Now get some sleep because auntie Wanda is coming early tomorrow to pick you up before I leave.” You leaned down to kiss each of them on their heads “I love you both so insanely much.”

“Love you too, mommy.”

“Now go to sleep or I’ll call the slender man.” Bucky said as he turned off the light

He quickly closed the door once you got out of the room and the girls let out a scream that made you both laugh.

“You’re evil.” You chuckled “Creating them traumas so young.”

“It gives them strength.”

You rolled your eyes laughing. “Of course.”

You both went downstairs and then Bucky went back to the car to bring back Olivia’s shoes and a few toys that the girls left in the car. While you put them on the dining table, Bucky was just telling you what they did and how the girls were on the weekend.

“Liv didn’t even asked for my help to wipe her after using the bathroom.”

“No?!” You looked at him kinda shocked

Potty training Eloise was way easier than training Olivia. First she was afraid of the toilet being flushed, then she was afraid that something would come out and bite her, then she didn’t want to stay alone while using the toilet. It’s been a rollercoaster for all of you.

“No, she did it all by herself.”

“Oh my god, really? I’m gonna cry.” You said with a hand on your chest

“She said she’s a big girl and big girls don’t need any help to go potty.”

“She is a big girl.” You said “Fuck, they’re both getting so big.”

“They are.” He nodded “How was Seattle?”

“Fucking amazing.” You said excited “It’s so pretty.”

“And how did it went? Are they planning on transferring you?”

“Hell no, I told Nick I’m not leaving New York.” You replied “If we were still living in the compound, then this would’ve been a whole different conversation, but we’re not and we have kids now so no, I’m not leaving even if they pay me more.”

“Well if they are paying you more then..” he raised his eyebrows

You laughed. “You know what I mean, idiot.” You rolled your eyes “But no, I’m not being transferred.”

“Then why did you go?”

“Nick said that they needed someone like me for some training.” You answered “It was great, I got to teach a few people about self defense, how exciting.”

“I’m glad.” He said with a small smile

He was genuinely happy for you. He knew how much you’ve missed working like that. Being an agent, a spy, you missed it. But at the same time, it wasn’t really in your plans anymore ever since you got pregnant with Eloise. It happened during the blip as well so you weren’t exactly working as an agent or spy anymore so you just decided to leave it behind for good. Until recently.

“You know, if it’s really what you want, then go for it.” He told you “The girls aren’t stopping you and neither am I.”

“I know, but it’s just that I feel like I’m on a different stage in life now.” You said “It felt fucking amazing, don’t get me wrong.”

“Then do it, talk with Nick and tell him to put you out there, that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know.” You let out a sigh

“We’re not going anywhere, you know that, right?” He said and you looked at him “And how cool would it be for the girls to say that their mommy is a spy?”

You laughed. “They will brag about it for sure.”

“And the best part is that you’re great at it and always have been.”

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You shrugged looking at the time on the stove “It’s getting very late.” You looked at him

“Ouch okay, I’m leaving.”

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes

“Are we gonna keep this up?” He looked at you

“What?”

“This nonsense.” He motioned his hand between the two of you

“This nonsense?” You arched an eyebrow “Do I need to remind you whose fault is it that we’re on this position right now?”

“It could’ve gone so much better, but little miss I’m extremely petty over here, doesn’t like to listen to people and doesn’t care about anything other than her opinion.” He said

“Oh don’t make me mad, James.” You crossed your arms

“It’s the truth and you know it.”

“I think you can go now.” You said turning around and starting to walk away

“See what I mean?” You heard him say from behind “Can’t we just talk about it like normal people?” He asked following you

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.” You said turning around to look at him

“Well I think it is.”

“Bucky..”

“Y/N, come on.” He sighed “It’s been three months, are you gonna keep pushing me away?”

And he’s right, you’ve been kinda pushing him away. To be honest, the whole thing could’ve been avoided if Bucky and you came to an agreement, but you never did. You were upset that he was going away with Sam to do all these things that you weren’t okay with and you were thinking about the kids, which, at the moment, he wasn’t doing and that pissed you off. That was the whole thing. He didn’t want to empathize with the way you were viewing the whole situation and he was kinda making you look crazy. Saying things like “it’s not a big deal” or “everything will be alright, you don’t need to freak out”.

How does he expect you to not freak out when he doesn’t care about doing all this dangerous things? Was he insane?

In other circumstances, if you didn’t have kids for example, maybe you would’ve been a little bit more okay with it, maybe. But it’s a whole different scenario now.

And you were kinda pushing him away, sort of. But it wasn’t intentional, it’s just that you were kinda petty and there were times where he wanted to kinda fix things, but you wouldn’t let him because you would find a way to push him away unconsciously.

“You made me feel like I was exaggerating when I clearly wasn’t.” You said

“Because at the moment I did feel that way and I didn’t want to view the situation the way you were.” He explained “And I know I was wrong for that and I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh. “You still went.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I should’ve stayed here with you, I regretted it the moment I left with Sam.” He said “And I came back as soon as I could.”

“And you stayed with Steve.” You rolled your eyes

“Baby, you wanted to kill me, do you really think I was just gonna come and ask you to take me back after that shit? Like you were just gonna accept me.”

“… Well, you’re kinda right.”

“I know, Steve told me you were pissed and that you wanted to punch me.”

“I did tell him that.” You nodded

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

“It’s fine, just forget it, I’m sick of the topic anyway.” You replied leaning on the back of the couch

“But are we fine?” He asked

“I don’t know, are we?”

“Well I’d say we are, kinda.” He got closer to you “You want me to do anything?”

“You could start by fixing the damn back door.”

“Again? But I just fixed it a few months ago.”

“Well I think you did it wrong because the doorknob is broken again.”

“I need to change that fucking door already.” He rolled his eyes “Anything else? Are you still mad at me?”

“A little.” You replied

“Just a little?” He moved his hands to your hips “I can help you change your mind.”

“Easy there, soldier.”

“Easy my ass, come here.”

Before you could even protest, his real hand grabbed your neck and he pulled you in for a kiss that screamed need. You really missed his kisses and just the way he would always give you a peck, whenever and wherever, whatever you were doing, he didn’t give a single care in the world. This man could see you sitting on the toilet and he still would go and give you a quick kiss.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispered on your lips “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“I did too.”

“Can we please never fight again?” He gently put his forehead against yours

“As long as you don’t piss me the fuck off doing some stupid shit like that again, we’re good.”

“Good.” He nodded before kissing you again

“And I swear to god..” you started saying between kisses “If I see you again that close to John Walker, I’m gonna kill you.”

“I know.” He said lowering his hands to the back of your thighs and picking you up

masterlist

a/n: should I post the fanfic here? What do we think? Lol (I’ve been thinking about it A LOT lately)

**UPDATE! I ended up uploading the fanfic and here is the masterlist for it lol

Anywaysss, hope you liked this! <3

(Likes and reblogs will be appreciated)

[butterbabyflapjack]

chapter3 . hypocrites

✧˖° Brian Moser x serial killer fem!reader

✧˖° summary:

The Ice Truck Killer’s back in town, and somehow he's stuck babysitting you; Miami's newest would-be killer.

Helping you out wasn't at all his original intention–he'd rather see you dead, you know far too much–but he supposes he could spare an evening to undomesticate that hungry beast inside you. Show you how to really live your life.

In which Brian helps you kill someone who utterly deserves it, and the kill room turns into a horny sex-fueled bloodbath.

✧˖° wordcount: 3.3k

✧˖° chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six

✧˖° ao3

✧˖° taglist: @fionasapple88 @alllaboutangel @fan-goddess @ireallydontknowohcrabs

✧˖° warnings: serial killer fem!reader, reader insert, explicit sexual content, rough sex, passionate sex, fucking in a kill room, dark romance, dark comedy, canon typical depictions of blood and gore, enthusiastic consent, dubious consent, mutual pining, impact play, playing with your food, serial killers in love, banter, dirty talk, voice kink, trauma bonding, babysitting a serial killer, implied sexual abuse of a child (you're killing this mf don’t worry), torture (you’re torturing this mf don’t worry), Brian is his own warning, enemies to lovers, biting, daddy issues?, blood play, a bit of angst a dash of bloodlust & a heavy splash of spice, Brian loves to fluster you and he won't shut the hell up going about it, Brian survives season 1 in this house

✧˖° author's note:

okay. so guys. the next and final part ended up being like 30k, so I’m splitting it up into multiple chapters.

PLEASE BE AWARE: the “enthusiastic consent” tag remains and is 100% valid, but I’ve also added “dubious consent”. having both will make sense by the end of your night. lots of shit going down lol

✧˖° chapter 3

Something hangs in the air of this moment. Flexes through it like light before rain. Something heavy, that sticks to your skin; dragonfly wings trapped in the sugar-sheen of Florida sweat. And even now, when it’s so quiet that you can finally think, it’s all you feel—those wings, trapped and buzzing on your skin, discomfort raking all across you.

In the hush of Brian’s car, speeding forward through the night, you reach for the knob of the radio between you. Cranking up whatever song is playing though you can hardly hear a thing.

You don’t want to be alone with your thoughts anymore tonight.

You’re over second guessing.

If you’re losing your mind, there's no gaining it back now. What’s done is done, and what’ll happen as a result was always going to happen.

There’s nothing you can do to stop what's in motion tonight, so why are you even still questioning? Why are you anxious? This was all your idea.

Beside you in the dark, Brian glances your way. One hand on the wheel as it seems your silent tension’s somehow caught in his periphery. Street lights strobing in and out of both your visions as his sleek car races past them; ruby-black in humid moonlight.

”Seems you have a lot on your mind…” he observes. And his tone doesn’t press you for more, not really. The watchful hush which follows left only for the willing to fill it, and it seems you aren’t willing, seeing as how you more or less ignore him. Folding your stony arms across your chest as you stare out that window beside you.

He turns back to the road as you hide within that music you can’t hear. Doing your best to distract from all those discomforting wings still caught on your skin; to flee from thought entirely. From that little voice in your head that warns you in a language you can’t comprehend. Left in a nervous stalemate between yourself and your rage and your disquiet, hoping it won't all rend you raw as you tumble again and again and again through all those fatal things that might occur tonight. That’ll possibly stain your hands red, as your own hands enact them. All those bloody things that could come back to bite you should anything go wrong, should anything unexpected happen, and it feels like the world’s slipping out from under you, that everything’s unexpected, that nothing can be predicted in the tempest of what may come tonight. 

Brian’s car speeds toward more residential streets, a crimson comet eating all before it as it smoothly roams toward that address you’d given him; the address of that man you’re going to kill, if you can actually do this, and–fuck, are you actually going to do this? Are you actually going to kill this guy instead of turning him in? Instead of any less violent alternative?

There’s no coming back from murder. 

At least, you don’t think there is.

The music’s a failed distraction from the constricting spiral of your thoughts. But as the tires of Brian’s car begin to slow, you’re slowly dragged into the present, where a long, dim road stretches out before you. One you recognize as Gary’s street, having been there yourself not so long ago. Blinded and bound there by a vengeance so fierce you weren’t previously aware such fury existed.

Your expression darkens as you’re once more swept out in the wartorn sea of your mind at the memory of it.

You would’ve killed that fucker then if you hadn’t so recently come across Dexter. Came across who he really is; a monster who pretends he’s not.

So what does that make you?

You’d waited in Gary’s office for what felt like forever that night, and even longer after finding those hard drives. Gun numbing your rancorous hand. And it slowly hit you. How it wasn’t enough; not nearly. Pressing down with more and more insistent weight with just how much you wanted to draw out that bastard’s suffering for as long as humanly possible. A single bullet was far too kind after what he did.

So. You’re worse than Dexter. 

Cool. Very cool. Very—

“You’re not second guessing this now, are you?”

Brian’s tone is a jaded edge, and again, you’re snapped back to the present. Seeing him eye you from across the dark center console of his car, with one sculpted bicep hitched up along the top of his chair. And it gradually becomes clear that you guys have been parked here for a while, now. Who knows how long he’s just been sitting there like that, watching you silently struggle within yourself.

Embarrassment peeks its ugly head before you stuff it back down again. Doing your best to steel your gaze before fully looking at him.

“No,” you lie. Quite convincingly, you think.

He studies you for drawn out moments, his expression veiled by midnight, until eventually he quirks an idle brow.

“Looks like you could use a pep talk,” he states.

Your own expression’s pinched at how nonchalant he’s still being about all this. Like tonight’s just a game, yet it would see your life forever altered.

“A pep talk?” you wryly question. “This isn’t a soccer game.”

He merely shrugs, the leather of his seat twisted beneath his leisured weight. “All the same. You seem to have forgotten why you’re here. That this was all your idea.”

You definitely haven’t forgotten that part.

He glances out at that beige house he’s parked in front of, its clay roof bathed in the same darkness encompassing the lightless street.

“You wanted this,” he tells the window, before meeting your worried gaze again. Seeming to decipher something from some hidden place inside you, despite all your attempts to keep how perceptive he is at bay. “...You still want this. And sure, Dexter helped in orchestrating what’ll happen tonight, but he far from put the idea of it in your head.” 

From where he idly watches, one corner of his lips forms a devil’s curve. 

“That was all you, my woeful student. So. You can follow through with your own plans tonight and cut that paedophilic mongrel down, or,” he shrugs, just slightly, “we can drive away right now, and he can go on living. Relatively unpunished, all things considered–and there’s a lot to consider where your nephew’s concerned, by the sound of it. I’ll even throw in the added bonus of taking our little deal off the table for the time being, and not allowing him his chance to off you–a one time offer, so make it count.” His lifted brows are a listless provocation. “Your choice, killer. Just say the word, and I’ll drop you off home, safe and sound.”

Even with how unsubtly sardonic he’s being, you’re more enraged at Gary than you are aggrieved at him because of it. And though you’re still enrobed by doubts, the weight of hatred spills over until you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt without a word, eyes hard as your jawline tightens.

He merely chuckles as he watches this newfound gusto he’s easily inspired.

“Not yet, little killer,” he cuts your ambition short. Leaning across the center console in reaching toward you, and though you flinch as though in anticipation of his touch, he merely unlatches the glovebox before your knees. Reaching in for a small, leather pouch that seems it’s precisely where he’s left it. And as distant lamplight shines across its silver buttons while he brings it back to himself, you realize that pouch is Dexter’s. That it’s his little holster of M99.

Unsnapping its delicate buttons within his lap, Brian reveals a neatly tucked syringe with a soft-green cap, alongside a small vial of clear liquid. And as he takes that needle out, idles it in his hand with a physician's sureness, a small frown weighs his lips. And you suppose, perhaps, that Dexter’s knives aren’t the only item of his brother’s he’s loath to use this evening.

“This isn’t really my thing,” he says, more to that syringe than anything. Seeming to admire how its liquid gleams with starlight against the dark, before re-sheathing what’s assured is all here. “But, Dexter’s the savant in relocating victims. Or, rather, dragging their dead weight around for no apparent reason other than what that precious code of his requires, for which he so obediently dances. So I suppose we’ll play things his way tonight…” A slip of thought glides by his mind so briefly. “At least partially.”

Looking back, it’s quite unfortunate you’re too currently absorbed by all that tension in you to really question how exactly his plans might deviate from what Dexter had in mind.

“He could always skip that part and just kill his victims where he finds them, but,” with a tensely released breath, he seems quite exasperated, “he’s so particular about that kill room of his. So painfully rigid beneath the thumb of all those rules.” Annoyance weighs his brow. “So dramatic.”

At this point in his aggrieved monologue, you can’t help the little huff of laughter that clips right out of you, and his dark eyes pivot to yours as though actually offended by it. Which, in truth, just makes it even funnier.

You can’t help it. He’s such a hypocrite. And at that look, you’re forced to bite back a heightened shade of amusement.

“Dramatic,” you restate. “Says the guy who used Miami as a theatrical, murderous stage just to catch his little brother's attention. When you could have, just… I dunno…” Guile hints one corner of your lips. “Sent him a letter…?”

That look Brian tosses you, as the strong line of his shoulders flexes tight, is perhaps the flattest you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, goody,” he says. “I was hoping someone would come around with a better idea for reuniting my long lost family. A letter. How didn’t I think of that? And how do you suppose that letter would read, I wonder?”

Something in his tone has you opening your mouth to deter him, but he’s already continuing, “Why don’t we draft it right now?

“Hey, baby brother–it’s me,” he recites, as though penning this message out loud. “You know. The big brother you don’t remember?”

He’s so measured, yet you already regret bringing this up. Some wound you sense in him scratched open as your stomach slowly shrinks from where you watch him.

“Guess you’ll have to take my word for it. Anyway; this life you’re living? We both know it’s all a lie. 

“Oh–you don’t know that? Well, allow me elaborate: your fake dad made it all up. All these rules. All these lies. Created this cage for himself to keep you in. That fake dad you’ve practically deified. The guy who tore our lives apart. Who strong-armed our mom into being dismembered alive right in front of us. Who took you from the only family you had once he was finished ransacking our lives, burying you so deep in his lies that you’d never even know I existed.”

That tension in his dark-scruffed jaw seems to hold back more than what he’s already stated, which is already more than you meant to tease out of him, before he’s casually continuing:

“He’s not your real dad, Dex, and he’s not your real family. So fuck him and everything he’s ever said. You don’t need his rules, nor his falsehoods, nor his family–you already have a family.

Me.

So throw his fabricated bullshit behind, and we can be together like we always should’ve been. As we were, before that lying, manipulative piece of shit came around and ruined absolutely everything.”

Your lower lip aches the more you gnaw it. And Brian eyes you a moment, in your reluctant silence, before adding:

“Oh, and–by the way, little side note here–I know what you are, Dex. I know what you're hiding. But I suppose that's a conversation for another time; bit heavy for a letter, don’t you think? Then again, a letter is apparently the right response to a lifetime of suffering and fighting my way toward reforming my shattered, stolen family, so…”

He listlessly shrugs, though his eyes remain sharp.

“Anyway. Xoxo, all the best, till next time~ Signed, the Ice Truck Killer.”

The tension in the darkened car is palpable upon his impromptu letter’s end. Something far more edged in him despite what his careless charade might offer. And more than anything, you wish you could swallow back your attempt to ever taunt him; realizing upon him sarcastically making it crystal-fucking-clear just how far you’ve overstepped into something you don’t know nearly enough about to give advice on, to pretend you understand; to press upon or joke about in the slightest. 

All mischief in you has died, in favor of chasing after words you cannot catch, that are too heavy to wage from you. Because though you want to apologize–for bringing this up, for making light of something held in such darkness–each attempt to say a thing remains held on your tongue, lodged there, unable to leave you, because can you really apologize for having anything questionable to say–joke or otherwise–about a long anticipated family reunion that led to the deaths of so many innocent women? So many working girls who never hurt him, or anyone else? 

Women whose murders you personally sought to find justice for. 

Whom you failed to find justice for.

Brian’s plans–those plans too complex for a letter–led them all to their deaths. And they would all be rolling in their graves right now if they saw you, feeling bad for him. Working with the man who slaughtered them instead of cuffing and dragging him in, or–better yet–lodging a bullet in his deceptively handsome head.

So you can’t say a thing, as he and you watch each other in the dark. Both of you shut off too different things, it seems, yet with pieces of you fraying. Abraded threads that half-unravel, before they’re boarded so swiftly up.

“I’m sorry,” you say at length–the words fighting their way from you, regardless of their disloyalty toward those you’ve failed to protect. And you swiftly look away, avoiding both Brian and yourself; staring hard out the window. “I… I didn’t mean, to…” Your arms tightly fold across yourself as emotion too obscured to unravel knots your brow. “I don’t know your guys’ history. Not fully, at least–not even slightly, really, and…”

At your pause, an image flashes in your mind. One he painted for you earlier, of him and his brother. Two little boys trapped in blackness and blood by the remains of their mutilated mother. And how long must it have felt, holding Dexter in the dark? What must he have said to in any way calm him? Two little boys forced to witness such savagery. Two children, reliving in the dark what had happened whilst held in that blanket of red; that final comfort spilled from their dying mother.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you slowly shake yourself. All other words failing you as, eventually, you force your gaze back to the watchful snare of his, to how his study’s never strayed. And you should just stop talking, but you hear yourself carrying on all the same.

“And that’s not to say you should explain, or elaborate, or… or anything, I just… not if you don’t want to, anyway, I just…”

Of course he doesn’t want to–why would he open up about any of what he and his brother have been through more than he already has, and especially to someone like you? What are you even going on about? 

Again, your words peter out. Wishing you could read his watchful silence, though to do so seems a task beyond anyone.

“I’m sorry,” you say again weakly, at last.

He watches you for so long you think he may never respond at all.

“Are you done awkwardly rambling yet?” at last he blandly wonders, as embarrassment once more sparks your throat, rising up it. 

Biting back on retorting with something more blunted, you say stiffly, “Yes,” instead.

His expression’s a mask; his eyes a glimmered shadow in its darkness. And for a while, more, he simply studies your reaction to him. That embarrassment. That conflict in you. Your stunted lack of spiteful tongue.

“You keep apologizing,” he says at length. So close to reprimand, and yet it seems he doesn’t fully understand it. 

You don’t know how to respond, and it seems there’s distant words trapped in you both.

“There’s no need to be sorry for things you haven’t done,” he lowly says, as that tension continues to drag. “But it’s funny, ‘cause…” His brows briefly knot in his consideration. “You’re the only one. The only one who's sorry. The only one who apologizes, even when you don’t need to. The only one who does so without the threat of a gruesome end loosing it from their lying tongues, anyway.”

It feels there’s some splinter in his facade that you could slip through if you tried, though it’s stapled gruffly closed again before you get the chance, the very second you even think you spot it.

“I don’t think that’s funny,” you hushly say, but he smiles like it is; soft, and with little warmth to it. Not even close to melting through all that ice in his eyes, that cold which buries everything beyond it.

“Sorry,” he says, mocking you. Though some part of him seems to mean it. Something more solemn. “Truth be told, I never know what’s funny anymore.”

He’s the first to look away. Staring instead out the darkened window. Out at that house you’ve come to hate, with all its windows dark save for one. That one which Gary must be in.

“We should go,” he tells the darkness. “We’re burning moonlight. And it seems your unfortunate friend is already patiently waiting for us to find him.”

When his gaze finds yours again, its blackness is lowly biting. “You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

It’s near impossible to disentangle all those warring notes inside you, but still you grit your jaw and mutter, “What happened to you being my soccer coach? Stop trying to make me second-guess myself.”

Through the shadows, he’s gradual to smile. Roguery smoothing out all his previous edges. “Really… Do I actually seem the type to talk you out of anything this fun or potentially dangerous? I’m willing to see where this road takes us. I’m just wondering if you are.”

That little curve of his lips slowly broadens as he eyes how you manage nothing more than a tight-lipped stare. Unwilling to let your voice further betray your lingering uncertainty, or anything else for that matter, though it seems he’s stolen enough of your thoughts as it is. Thumbing through them at his leisure; all those secrets of mind and heart you’d rather hide.

“C’mon,” he says at last, with the sureness of having an answer you never gave him. Already unlatching his door and stepping out onto the moon-lit walk, while you’re left with no choice but to follow. The events of this entire evening were your idea, after all, and it's far too late not to see through what you’ve started. And in the back of your mind, it somehow feels that, despite all his offers to escape what’s yet to occur, Brian’s made absolutely sure that won’t happen.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 2 - the first look

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

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your doorbell rang, and you skipped down the stairs opening the door to three grinning faces. sarah pulls you into a massive hug.  

“ah y/n!! you look so beautiful. this is john b, my boyfriend, and kiara my best friend”

“oh it’s so nice to finally meet you! sarah hasn’t stopped talking about you since yesterday” kiara admitted as she brings you into a hug “she’s been so excited for us to meet”

“so great to meet you y/n” john b kindly greets you. 

you instantly loved both of them and found the same comfort with them as you did with sarah. 

“and you guys! i’m so excited for tonight” 

“you should be, let’s get going.” sarah pulls you out of the house and into the car. 

after a blissful car ride full of introductions, laughing and loud music, you finally arrive at the venue. 

as sarah led you through the opening doors, swiftly showing your tickets, adrenaline rushed through your veins in excitement for the night. 

“here are our seats!” sarah squealed with excitement, taking your hand and dragging you into the arena. 

the lights were dim, signing the concert was about to begin. the venue filled with silence and anticipation and hushed voices, fans lifting their phone cameras ready to film the bands entrance. 

a sudden beat started, with the lights strobing to the music beginning. your heart beat pulsing, taking in the exhilarating atmosphere. 

“ah i’m so excited!” kiara held onto you, as the band members started to come on stage one by one. 

with the crowd screaming and jumping up and down, you could barely see the stage, until you did. 

and you saw him. 

“holy fuck” you gasped under your breath. 

“what was that y/n?” sarah questioned

“who’s that guy?” you replied 

“which one?”

“not the drummer, the main?”

“oh em gee how didn’t you realise” sarah giggled

“realise what?”

“y/n that’s my brother”

oh fuck 

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a/n: and so it finally begins heheh... oh my lord i've been at this all day while i should've been working LOL oh well at least i have my priorites right😝

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry 

[storiesofsvu]

City Views

Rafael Barba x reader warnings: language, smut, oral, a form of cock warming i guess? lol, dirty talking, cum shot. requested: yup. can't remember who lol. Havent written for Barba or watched his eps in a while so hopefully this isn’t ooc.

Rafael was in his home office later than he had originally planned, one thing simply turned into another and another and another, the next thing he knew the small pile of paperwork had become a mountain. Normally this was just a minor frustration, but tonight was supposed to be date night.

When you’d first gotten home you’d checked in, leaving a kiss on the top of his head, asking how long he thought he would be. An hour and a half later and you were back, sliding a glass of scotch onto his desk with a small sigh and a raised brow that silently asked when he was going to close up shop. An hour after that you’d given up hope for stage one, wandering back into the office to place a take out container on his desk, making sure that he at least ate. Every intrusion pulled his focus, causing him to lose his train of thought and have to start all over again, even if you didn’t actually say anything. Which is why when the door creaked open again he let out a huff, his pen lifting up off the paper as he started to speak.

“If you interrupt me one more time so help me god I will—” He completely forgot how to speak when his eyes moved from the paper in front of him to the doorway and his mouth practically started to water.

You’d changed out of your clothes, a simple yet stunning black lace three piece set hugging your skin perfectly, adorned with light pink flowers, though the kicker was Rafael’s favourite shirt draped over your shoulders, hanging open in the front so he could get a glimpse of the lingerie. You let out a small chuckle, sauntering through the room up to the side of his desk and your fingers curled under his chin, closing his mouth.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“I...” he started, gulping as his eye swept over your body, lingering on the swell of your chest and you smiled.

“See something you like?”

“I most certainly do.” His hands came to grip your hips, tugging you towards him as they slid up your sides, spreading warmth across your skin, “querida you look amazing, but you know I have to finish this.”

“No one said anything about you stopping.” With a smirk you sunk to your knees, hands spreading his legs so you could settle between them, “I’m sure I can find something to keep me occupied.”

“Christ.” Muttering, he shook his head at you, nudging you backwards slightly so his chair was closer to the desk and he picked up his pen again.

Only a moment later your hands were softly rubbing up and down the inside of his thighs, squeezing every so often and every time he glanced down he had a perfect view of your cleavage, pushed up by the fancy bra, your nipples nearly peaking over the top of the lace. He took a deep breath, feeling himself twitching in his pants already and did his best to focus on the work in front of him.

Your hands continued to rub up his thighs, one of them coming even higher to palm at his cock through his pants and he let out a groan, unable to control his hips rocking toward the touch. You continued to grope him, smirking at the feeling of him starting to get hard, knowing just what kind of an affect you were having on him. Your hands reached up to his belt, undoing the buckle before slipping into his pants, pulling them down a few inches to pull his cock out and he let out a hiss.

You spat into your hand before wrapping it around him, beginning to lazily stroke, letting out a needy whine as he got hard, twitching in your hand. Above you he let out a soft sigh, his eyes briefly closing, fingers clenching around his pen before he attempted to shake out of it.

“You like that?” You asked, a smirk in your voice as your hand tightened around him, squeezing ever so softly and a drop of pre-cum began to leak out of his tip.

“You know I do.” He groaned, hips rocking toward you, thrusting his cock further into your hand.

“If this is too distracting I could always just play with myself…” You teased, your hand leaving him and trailing down your own body. You barely got it to the waist of your panties before Rafael let out a low growl, catching your other wrist in his hand, tugging you closer to him.

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, “you know better than that.”

Grinning, you leant forward on your knees, your hands braced on his upper thighs and your tongue darted out to wet your lips, “you want me to suck your cock while you work? Keep you nice and warm and hard until you’re finally ready to fuck me?” You licked a broad stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip, flicking it, lapping up the pre-cum as you did so and he twitched again, “stretch my pussy out, fuck me nice and deep, filling me up completely.” Your words were accented by kisses along his shaft, sucking at the sensitive skin, “I’m wet already just thinking about it.”

Rafael’s free hand tangled into your hair, redirecting your mouth so he could drive his cock between your lips, “then get to work.”

“Mmmhm.” You mumbled back, slowing sinking down on his cock until the tip of it hit the back of your throat.

You held yourself there, tongue drawing patterns across his cock, tracing the veins as you moaned around him, sucking him deeper into your mouth, feeling him throb. You hollowed your cheeks, relaxing your throat so he could press even further into you. You could hear the scratching of his pen as he scribbled through whatever he was working on, but you could also hear that his breathing was getting laboured. Rafael began to shift uncomfortably in his seat, your mouth incredibly warm and wet around him, holding him there, tickling at his cock with your tongue. He twitched inside your mouth, letting out a quiet swear when you moaned around him, the vibration enough to make him stall in his words. You could feel the drool pooling in the corners of your mouth beginning to leak out of your lips, smearing around the base of his cock and you finally pulled off, taking a gasping breath.

Your hand replaced your lips, stroking up and down his length while your mouth moved down to his balls, sucking them into your mouth, your tongue toying with them. A groan left your lips as you rubbed your thighs together, pussy pulsing around nothing, eager for Rafael’s cock to fill you up. Your mouth slipped off his balls, a string of drool connecting the base of his cock to your lips and you glanced up at him with a smirk when you felt his eyes on you.

“God you’re so pretty like this…” he mumbled, his hand caressing your cheek gently, thumb tracing the outline of your lips and you were quick to suck it into your mouth. “Such a good little cock sucker.”

He pulled his thumb out of your mouth, causing you to chase after it, your lips landing on the head of his cock when he wrapped his hand around it, redirecting it into your mouth before his hand moved to the back of your head. He guided you up and down, pressing ever so lightly on your head when you deep throated him, setting up a languid pace for you to bob on his cock. As relaxed as you were, you weren’t afraid to start to make a bit of a mess, spit slicking his length, coating your lips, smearing across the crotch of his pants, a bit of drool dripping down your chin.

Rafael could feel his heart racing in his chest, the sounds coming from below him were driving him absolutely wild and he knew by the way you’d began rocking your hips in time with your bobbing that your pussy was completely drenched. His writing was getting sloppier and he knew he was going to have trouble reading it in the morning, but the thoughts of work were slowing slipping from his mind as the only thing he began to worry about was the feeling of you choking on his dick. He managed another sentence before tossing down his pen and letting out a louder moan, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes.

You pulled off his cock with a lewd pop, a small giggle escaping your wet lips, “finished?”

“Something else came up.” He muttered, smirking down at you and you chuckled, still stroking him.

“Certainly did.” With a wink you wrapped your lips around his cock again, picking up the pace as his hips began to rock up to meet your mouth, hands tangling into your hair again. You took him as deep as you could, hands massaging his balls and he grunted, throbbing in your mouth before he finally pulled you off, leaving you panting.

“If you keep that up you’re gonna make me come.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, yanking you up and into his lap, where his hand found its way between your legs, cupping your heat, “and considering you’ve ruined these panties it would be a waste to not feel that gorgeous pussy.”

With a quick smirk Rafael leant in, catching your lips in a kiss, groaning over the taste of himself in your mouth as your tongues quickly started rolling against one another. His arms wound around you, holding you close as he stood up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You couldn’t resist grinding your clothed cunt against his hard on, your panties dampening from both sides now. He crossed the room to the couch across from his desk, gently dropping you onto it.

“Why don’t you get rid of that excuse for underwear?” He asked, his hands making quick work of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor behind him.

Your hands reached up behind your, un clasping the bra and tossing it aside, “you could just pull them to the side?”

“God you’re feeling dirty tonight, aren’t you?” Rafael grinned, stepping toward you so he could cup your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you let out a happy sigh that morphed into a moan when he pinched at them, gripping the flesh harder.

“Got bored,” your eyes fluttered shut as he continued to play with your tits, “watched a few videos…”

“And were you touching yourself?”

“Only over my panties.”

“Good girl.” His hands left your chest, one cupping your cheek to direct you into a kiss before he shoved his pants down, “now get up on your knees and turn around.”

You eagerly did as asked, bracing yourself on the back of the couch and sticking your ass out as Rafael dimmed the lights in the room, making the view through the darkened window come a little more to life. Stories above the city streets below, the skyline full of sparkling lights, night sky twinkling with stars, you were high enough there was a very little chance of anyone seeing you, but the thrill was still there and sent shivers through your body. Rafael’s hands soothed up your thighs, pulling your cheeks apart before his fingers slipped into your thong, pulling it off to the side to expose your glistening pussy.

“God you’re just fucking drenched.” He muttered, bending over you to swipe his tongue through your folds, pulling a gasp from your lips as he sucked on your cunt for a moment, growling at the taste of your juices. “Always so sweet querida.” Two of his fingers easily sunk into you and you couldn’t help but push back onto them, whining as your eyes fluttered shut and he chuckled, “and already ready for me… you really are needy tonight.”

“Raf.. please…” Your head fell forward onto your forearms, practically panting in need as his fingers danced across your body, a feather light touch on your skin that left fire in its tracks.

“God you’re so hot when you beg.” He replied, hand wrapping around his cock as he guided it your leaking cunt.

He rutted against you, cock sliding through your folds, smearing your juices all along it and you let out a long moan, body shaking as wetness leaked out of you. It wasn’t a want, it was a need, your pussy absolutely throbbing, your clit swollen and sensitive, twitching every time his dick rubbed past it. He finally gave you some relief when the head of his cock nudged at your cunt and your body relaxed, a sigh escaping your lips as he sunk deeper into your heat inch by inch.

“Fuck…” You groaned, pushing your hips back toward him, making sure every inch of him was fully seated inside your throbbing cunt.

“You’re squeezing me so tight already, shit.”

Rafael braced his hands on your hips, starting to pull his cock out until only the tip was left inside you before he sunk all the way in again, moaning right along with you. You were perfect, pussy fitting him like a fucking glove, pulsing around him like heaven, just the way he craved, the way he loved. He couldn’t help but set a steady pace, knowing you were both so riled up already he didn’t want to waste time but also didn’t want to come instantly. Each thrust of his hips were met with a little squeak or whimper from you, the harder ones earned moans, soft swears, his name tumbling from your lips like a sweet prayer.

“S-so good.” You groaned out, gripping the back of the couch harder when Rafael circled his hips, cock hitting every spot of your walls.

“Take me so well.” He husked, picking up the pace, a hand sliding up your back until it tangled into the roots of your hair, tugging your head up so you could see the faint reflection in the dark window.

“Fuck…”

“Like that don’t you?” He chuckled, “bet you wish they could see how you take my cock, hmm? How messy this little pussy is? God you’re dripping down your thighs that’s how much you like the way I fuck you, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm.” You managed out, a strangled moan breaking free from your throat, “ ‘m close…so close…”

Rafael knew what you were begging for, and he knew he wasn’t far behind you, hand winding around you to find your clit, pads of his fingers rubbing at it, pressing harder with each circle. You were slick with wetness, clit hard and throbbing under his fingers while your pussy pulsed around his cock, juices coating it, squelching noises and the sound of skin on skin bouncing off the walls of the room.

“Come for me querida, come all over my cock.” He grunted, feeling himself throb inside you, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm, stuttering against yours as you cried out, pussy clamping down around him as your juices dribbled out, leaking down your thighs.

“Fuck!”

It was only a second later that he groaned, his hips hitting yours, cock deep inside your cunt as his cum shot out of him, coating your walls and you let out another whimper at the sensation. He squeezed at the base of his dick, making sure to fill you with as much cum as he could, your pussy milking every last drop out of him. He dropped his torso over yours, holding you flush to him as he panted, messy kisses pressed to the back of your shoulders as your bodies trembled together.

“Oh my god…” He mumbled and you laughed softly, shifting to collapse to the couch underneath him, whining when his cock slipped from you.

“Still mad about the interrupting?” You asked with a smirk as you rolled over and it was his turn to laugh.

“Absolutely not.”

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@fandom-princess-forevermore @thatesqcrush @alexusonfire @bisexualcrowley @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @averyhotchner @beccabarba @permanentlydizzy @prurientpuddlejumper @letsdisneythings @neely1177 @mrsrafaelbarba @lv7867 @bisexual-dreamer02 @skittle479 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @altsvu @svulife-rl @caracalwithchips @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @darkheart-brightsmile @australiancarisi @ex-uallyactive @lawandorderuswnt @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raw @narvaldetierra @lannister-slings-and-arrows @poisonedcrowns @anlin2058 @xoxabs88xox @momlifebehard @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @godard-muse @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @dextur @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @silversprings-mp3 @wittygutsy

[mellowyellowdaydream]

Ride em Cowboy

A/N: @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth inspired this one cause that dry humping one you put out made me think of how much this man would love for a lady to ride his face 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: Y/N and Dean take a second to stretch their legs in between figuring out lore for their next hunt. Late night face riding ensues!

Rating: Mature audiences only! 18+ or else lol

Word count: just over 2.6k

Warnings: Smut(obviously) face riding, Dean being a giver, female orgasm. Sorry if I forgot anything. Quickly edited!

Master list

It was another late night of sorting through lore pertaining to one or another case that piqued their interest. The Montana ghost or ghoul case occupied Sam and Bobby’s attention. Dean and Y/N were focused on the case out in Missouri that was some wacky Djinn.

It was rolling close to midnight when Bobby’s eyes quit cooperating and he called it a night. Obviously telling the rest of them to not stay up too late and actually sleep tonight. Which he just got grumbles of acceptance from the three as he got up and left to go to bed. He hobbled down the hall, locked the back door, and hobbled upstairs to bed.

Sam was quick to get up and claim the bed that Bobby had set up when he knew the boys were gonna be around. Dean just released a whine from the back of his throat, knowing he would have to make do with the couch. Y/N kicked his foot under the table and shot him a look, knowing that he would end up in her bed upstairs, anyway. Dean rubbed his shin as Y/N got up to change the channel on the TV to something easier to listen to than the local news and put a small pot of coffee on to recharge them.

Now that it was a somewhat established relationship between Dean and Y/N, he was more blatant about ogling her in front of his brother. He admired the silky purple slip dress that hugged her body to the layered ripped up tights she wore underneath as tights and cropped undershirts.

Her necklaces jingled as she bent over and made her route through the house and kitchen. She always fiddled with one of the extra long ones that was hung down to her waist, a chain with a simple green stone. It was the perfect length for her to hold on to when her arms rested at her sides. Dean was enamored.

“Did anyone tell you staring is rude?” Y/N asked as her gaze finally landed on Dean.

“I’m not staring.” He said. “I’m admiring my pretty girl.” His signature smirk settled on his face.

Y/N just shook her head as she smiled and blushed. She loved how he would look at her, and just be so open about liking her. It’s not something she was used to at all.

“Get a room….or don’t, actually ignore that I said that.” Sam said watching this whole interaction between his brother and best friend. He also didn’t want to encourage them to disobey Bobby’s rules.

A thought popped in Y/N’s head, she knew it was still somewhat warm out and had the perfect spot to take Dean for alone time that wasn’t technically under Bobby’s roof. She gave Dean a look before she turned around back to the coffeepot to bring back to the den. Dean got a little confused and made a face at her as she came over.

Y/N refilled his cup and then brushed his temple before laying a kiss there. She refreshed Sam’s cup and brought it to him. He gave a small smile and a thank you. She finally refreshed her own cup and returned the pot back to the kitchen before sitting back by Dean. Y/N immediately brought her feet up under the table to rest on Dean’s lap, helping scoop them further into his lap so it was more comfortable for the both of them.

She had a game plan but needed to figure out a way to get him to follow without waking up her dad and without making Sam too uncomfortable with their antics. Dean was too busy subconsciously rubbing her feet while he flipped through a book to see the mischievous glint growing in her eyes. So she moved one of her feet slowly towards the crotch of his jeans to apply a little pressure and see if he would squirm.

His eyes immediately shot to hers and sent her a don’t start nothing type of look. Which if he knew her he should know that would only egg her on more, especially cause she shot him a cheeky grin that meant trouble was coming.

“Ok well, I think I need to go stretch my legs and get some fresh air.” Dean said, getting up abruptly and trying to hide the growing boner in his jeans.

“Oh perfect, I’ll join you.” Y/N said, getting up after him to lead him outside.

Y/N walked to the front door, found a pair of her boots that were very loosely untied to slip on, and shot Dean one last wink before slipping out the door. She heard a thump and then a few moments later he was hopping out the door trying to slip on a pair of his own boots that he didn’t loosen whatsoever.

“You get too excited and trip?” Y/N asked as she made her way down the stairs.

“No... Maybe. Not fair.” Was all Dean said as he followed her lead away from the house and over to the makeshift shop her dad had set up.

Y/N sat on the old ripped out bench seat that was now a makeshift couch for the shop. She reached out to Dean and made grabby hands cause she wanted him in her arms pronto. He happily obliged and embraced her and rolled her to lay on top of him.

Dean smiled up at her, and she could see he had a dirty thought forming.

“What?” Y/N asked as she sat up and straddled Dean.

“I wanna do something but don’t be afraid, ok?” He answered.

“Okay?” Y/N said quite skeptically, her fingers fiddling with the pocket on his t-shirt.

“Ok, how would you feel about sitting and riding my face?” He asked, closing his eyes to brace for her response. Peeking one eye open to see her just staring down at him.

“Dean, it’s a lovely idea but I’ll suffocate you babe.” Y/N answered, shifting her weight around.

“Then what a way to go baby.” Dean said, his hands moving to her hips and his fingers digging in slightly to her hips.

“Dean, come on now. I’m too big, let me just ride you and then we can go to bed.” Y/N said, adding a roll of her hips to encourage him her way.

“Baby, look. I know you see yourself as too big, but if you could see yourself as I see you you would see how beautiful you are. Now let’s try it and if you don’t like it then we will never do it again.” Dean said to her.

He always knew what to say to her to make her feel better. Hoping she would climb up, he shifted slightly under her, but she remained seated, thinking about her next move because she was flabbergasted.

“Fine. We can try it. But I swear if I suffocate you, were stopping.” Y/N said, patting his chest.

Dean did a quick ‘yes!’ And fist pump. He tapped her hip so she could stand and he could readjust comfortably on the bench seat. Once he was happy with how he was laying he raised a hand to help her sit down. But not before she pulled all of her tights down as well as her panties.

She brought her knees to each side of his head, and his shoulders fit comfortably under her thighs as he wrapped his arms around her waist from the back. She wiggled a little, and he just tightened his hold, bringing her core closer to his face. But she sat back on his upper chest. Her hand reached out and grasped the backrest to add support to herself.

“This ok?” Y/N asked to check in with him.

“More than ok, but you kinda have to sit on my face to actually ride it baby.” Dean said, hoping to pull her closer and finally diving in. Y/N’s free hand shot to his hair immediately.

She obliged and sat up, taking a deep breath and finally sinking down on his face. A gasp left her mouth as soon as she did, his mouth was open and waiting to taste her. His tongue poked out and immediately started to lap at her core and clit.

She gave a testing roll of her hips, loving the feeling of him lapping at her folds and targeting her bundle of nerves. He would switch between a flat tongue and a perked tongue, going between slow languid laps and more intense kitten licks.

Y/N moaned the more he got into it, Dean helped her roll her hips in time with his tongue. He was enjoying this too much, he loved tasting and eating her pussy. He could never get enough, he was almost acting like a starved man getting his first meal in a long time.

Dean’s arms tightened around her waist, feeling Y/N wanting to let up because it either felt too good or too overstimulating. He slowed his mouth down, almost to the point of making out with her pussy. He wanted to savor as well as helping her enjoy her time up there.

He flattened his tongue out and just let her ride, her hips rolling it on and off of her clit. The sensation was phenomenal, the prickly stubble adding to all of it. His nose and pointy chin also adding to it all and her bumping the two every couple of rolls cause her hips would stutter. Her fingers dug into the backrest of the bench seat, the vinyl of it creaking with her squeezes.

Dean decided to pick up the pace, and started to suck on her clit. Y/N released a guttural moan, her free hand immediately gripping his hair tighter and pulling at the roots.

Dean started to alternate between the sucking and lapping, while Y/N’s hips were starting to shake from the intense pressure that was about to snap. He continued his assault and didn’t want to stop until she was gushing all over his face. So he helped her roll her hips and ride his face as he lapped at her pussy. Her orgasm hit and crashed through her, her grip on his hair almost painful.

Y/N came with a moan that turned into a throaty gasp, her legs shaking from this new wonderful feeling from the man under her. Dean gave kitten licks to work her through, and then worked on cleaning up everything from her juices to his saliva.

Once she sat back onto his chest and gave a deep breath she looked down And smiled at Dean. Her fingers were relaxed from his scalp but she finally released his hair and laid her palm flat to rub out any sore spots. Her thighs and pussy a little raw from his stubble rubbing against the soft flesh. Dean just stared up at her all star struck and amazed, he couldn’t wait until they could get to do that again.

“Are you alive?” Y/N asked down to Dean.

“That was amazing.” Dean replied.

“You definitely knew what you were doing down there.” Y/N said, gesturing her hand around at Dean.

“So are we able to do that again another time or was that a one and done type of situation?” Dean asked.

“You wanna do that again?” Y/N asked incredulously.

“Oh baby I wanna eat your pussy all the time.” Dean answered.

Y/N just playfully shoved his head and tried to stand up so she wasn’t sitting on his chest anymore. Dean had a hard time releasing her waist cause he liked having her close, but he obliged and released her up. Offering a hand up to her so she could further steady herself off. He sat up once she was standing next to him, sliding his body to no longer take up the entire bench seat. Y/N was sliding her panties back on but just balled up her tights not wanting to fight against all the tears and snags to lay right again. She slipped her boots back on and then slid back into Dean’s lap. His arms immediately tightened around her waist, pulling her ever closer to his body.

“We should go to bed, you wanna come lay with me?” Y/N asked, her face half smushed against his chest.

“Your dad would be pissed if he found us there.” Dean answered.

“Not if we’re using different blankets and make it obvious we were just having a late night of research.” Y/N said.

Dean just hummed in agreement and stood up with Y/N in his arms. She gave a squeak of surprise and lowered her legs so she could stand up. Dean kissed the crown of her head and released her, but not before grabbing a hand to hold as they walked back to the house. Y/N raced up the steps before him so she could maneuver the door for the least amount of squeaking.

Once they were back inside, Y/N toyed her boots off and set them back by the door. She quickly locked the door and set the line of salt back into place. Dean was struggling with his boots again, so while Y/N was down on her knees she helped ease his boots off and shot him a look of be quiet or else.

They heard small snores coming from the den, so when they turned the corner they saw Sam sprawled out on the small bed with a book on his chest. So Y/N passed Dean her ball of tights and crept over to his brother to move the book and pull a blanket over his obnoxiously large form. She switched off all of the lights that she thought were too big and disturbing and only left on a small lamp in case he wakes up at all before the sun is up.

She crept back over to Dean and grabbed his hand to lead him up the stairs and to her room. She opened the door for him and then went to use the bathroom before joining him.

He was pulling his jeans off as she came in, his perky butt immediately getting her attention. She sent him a smirk as she went to her dresser to pull out a pair of shorts and sleeping top. She pulled off all her necklaces, then her dress off over her head and then fought with the tights to pull off her upper half. Dean was almost laughing at her struggle and she had to send him a be quiet look.

Y/N quickly slipped her top and shorts on and made her way to the bed. Rubbing at her torso and arms from the tights as she climbed in. She passed Dean one of the many blankets she had on her bed and she took a different one to help differentiate each of them for her father. She then grabbed her journals that she had on her nightstand and passed him one while she opened a couple to lay between them before opening her own.

Dean was quick to settle into her bed, loving how plush and comfy it was. He snuggled in and made quick work of pretending to be learning the lore before settling in to fall asleep. Y/N followed suit as well, except she never really had to pretend to learn the lore because at this point she had her journals memorized and categorized. Her eyes closed as Dean started snoring softly next to her. She mumbled a goodnight as she drifted off to sleep.

—————

Tags: @jollyhunter @bettystonewell i can’t remember if anyone else wanted tags for this 😂

[starlightkun]

➺ teaser word count: 1421 | full fic: 9.4k ➺ genre & warnings: sci-fi, near future, fluff, falling in love without seeing each other, minor hurt/comfort, coworkers au (but in space), space traffic controllers; brief blood/injury mention ➺ synopsis: in which you go to your job as a space traffic controller every day looking forward to your shifts with one specific coworker who you might be falling head over heels for. and sure, you don't know quebec's real name, nor what he looks like, but you two talk for hours a day between guiding landings and take-offs, and you know him better than anyone else. you’re perfectly happy, until his end of the comms falls silent one day and won’t reconnect ➺ extra info: i highly recommend being aware of the existence of the icao alphabet so ur not thrown for a complete loop by ppl’s nicknames in here lol. u don’t need it memorized but i swear i didn’t pull these words out of thin air ok. also, in american aviation, the number 9 is pronounced niner, ur not going crazy and neither am i ➺ estimated release: saturday, february 1, 2025 3:00 p.m. eastern time

The days all tended to blur together on the space station if you weren’t careful. Time was pretty meaningless in the middle of nowhere with no seasons or daylight to give your body cues. STCs mostly relied on shifts and tower cycles as units of time—the duration of a shift, and how long you were assigned to one tower before you moved to the opposite side of the station.

You were back on shift with Quebec, and so far, it had been a busy one. You’d barely had time to breathe between arrivals and departures, much less chitchat. Finally, during what seemed to be a lull, you pulled out your bag of food from your bag.

“Alright, that’s it,” you huffed. “I’m eating dinner.”

“What do you have tonight?” He asked.

“Didn’t have time to run to the convenience store today so it’s just some snacks and stuff I had in my room. Might have to make a vending machine run, sorry.”

“Look in the minifridge.”

“What? Did you rig it to explode?” You pushed your rolling chair back to grab the edge of the fridge, pulling the door open to peer inside.

“You’ll just have to find out.”

A plastic container greeted you, and you grabbed it, already spotting something green inside. Setting it and your mic back down on your desk, you took the lid off with a pop, eyes bugging out of your head as you looked at the green and white cubes. The color and shine alone told you that these weren’t grown in an ag-bubble, these were imported straight from Earth.

“Quebec…” You breathed out in awe. “You did not.”

“You can’t justify spending that much on something you’re going to digest, but I can,” he replied kindly. “Go ahead, eat. Happy one year at the station.”

“I didn’t even remember that was today,” you admitted.

You grabbed a cube between your fingers, not bothering to find utensils. The best part was licking your fingers after, in your opinion. The fruit was juicy and sweet, no bitterness from the rind at all, and so much more flavor than ag-bubble fruit could ever develop. You felt tears well up in your eyes, embarrassingly.

“God, it’s so good. Thank you,” you mumbled through your half-eaten honeydew. “I wish I could share it with you right now.”

“No, don’t worry about me,” he said, and you heard a faint pop of another plastic lid opening on his end of the line. “They were selling it by weight. I had them send some to your tower and some to mine.”

You smiled at the tower across the landing dock. “We are sharing it right now.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Have you ever been on a picnic, Bec? Like, a real one, outside on a blanket with a picnic basket on the grass with fresh air and food and your friends and family?”

“Once, when I was really little. I don’t remember much about it. My mom showed me a picture,” he mused. “Have you, Zu?”

“No, never. I was born on a mining colony. Never breathed fresh air in my life, or been to Earth. Always been in ships, stations like this, or firmaments.” Firmaments—man-made structures on the surface of planets whose conditions were not naturally habitable for humans. Within the firmaments, the air quality, pressure, temperature, and planet’s surface could be regulated in order to allow for human survival. The actual mining typically happening outside of the firmaments, however, and that was only one reason that it was so dangerous—and lucrative.

“What about your parents?”

“They weren’t born on Earth either, never saw the big deal about going to visit.” You shrugged, popping another piece of melon in your mouth. “What about you?”

“My parents were born on Earth. They wanted me to be born there too, but I came a little early while they were on a trip to a nearby resort planet. The closest hospital was on its moon…”

“Did you grow up on Earth then?”

“Visited after I was born, went back and forth for a good bit of my childhood, but my parents just liked traveling too much to stay in one place.”

“My family moved around a lot too. Mining pays good, but you have to move with the materials. There’s always some hot new mineral in vogue that’s paying more than the last thing everyone wanted. You never want to stick around until a mine dries up.”

“How long does that take? Like, how much did you move around?”

“Depends. Sometimes we were there for a few weeks or months, sometimes years.”

Quebec was quiet for a moment, and you took the opportunity to eat two more pieces of honeydew. Then, he said, “Zulu?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you take this job? All the way out here?”

“I didn’t want to work in the mines with my parents my whole life. Saw the opening and figured I might as well give it a go,” you answered simply. “What about you?”

“Kind of similar. More desperate, I think,” he admitted. “I was in med school, actually, and I was absolutely miserable. Just at rock fucking bottom. I told my parents I was going to quit and they said I couldn’t unless I either enrolled in law school, or got a job. This was the first one I found.”

You blinked, watching the dark dot in the window across from you. “Wow. I don’t think you’ve ever told me that.”

“Haven’t talked to anybody about it since coming here.”

“Why’d you ask me that then? You had to have figured I would’ve turned the question back on you.”

“I… don’t think I knew I was going to tell you that until I said it.”

“You know you can always talk about whatever with me, Bec.”

“I know,” he replied warmly. “Same for you. I’m all ears.”

“So you quit med school, took the first job you could find and just happened to find something you liked doing?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I did not take to being an STC at all initially. I wanted to quit after my first week. I was on this stupid station in the middle of nowhere starting all over again at a job that paid considerably less than the surgeon I was supposed to be. I was miserable, and lost, and kept thinking that they were right and I should just put my head down and be a doctor or a lawyer or whatever. It felt like I could’ve disappeared from the universe and nobody would notice.” He sighed, and you felt your heart twist in your chest. “Then during my second week, another new STC started, and we ended up on a shift together. And you said—there’s no way you remember this, Zulu, it’s so… but—What do you remember about that shift?”

You rifled through your memories desperately for something, anything specific, but came up empty. “Not much, I mean, it was like my second one, I think. So I was still pretty nervous about doing everything right, and I remember meeting you, but I don’t think we even talked much outside of small talk, right?”

“That’s great. I mean it, I love that you’re just like this, that you weren’t trying to do it,” he laughed with his whole chest, and you smiled fondly, not feeling like he was laughing at you at all. “Anyway, it was pretty dead that shift, and in one of the quiet times, you got on the mic and you told me to look outside. I thought there was a ship or something going on. But then you said, ‘I’ve never seen these stars before.’ Which made me realize I hadn’t even looked at the stars since arriving at the station. At the end of the shift, you said, ‘Talk to you next time, Quebec.’ And I decided ‘sure, I’ll stick around until next time, see what else she’ll say.’” His words made you snicker softly, and he continued, “And then you just kept saying these little, interesting things, or things that made me smile for the first time in years, or you’d ask questions and let me talk about whatever I wanted… I kept putting off quitting until I wasn’t half-bad at being an STC and didn’t hate living at the station anymore.”

“Bec…” You murmured, fidgeting with the wire of your headset. “Do—”

A dot popped up on your monitor then, and Quebec said, “Ah, there’s the ambassador.”

⤷ masterlist

TEASER TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001 @snowyseungs @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

[imtheiliad]

CAN I GO WHERE YOU GO? 920 words | bucktommy | 7x06 coda a/n: look it me! i wrote something :P just a soft little thing that i couldn't stop thinking about <3 idek how long it has been since i published something episode related lol so be kind and gentle if you please<3 title is kinda just what fit best lol, enjoy!

Buck twirls his niece around as music plays quietly over a speaker, barely loud enough to hear over the quiet chatter. He swings her up and deposits her next to her newly-wed parents, and they look perfect. Buck remembers the reception of her first wedding, his cheeks didn’t hurt from smiling then, they do now, and by the looks of it so do Maddie’s. 

“You might want to–” she points toward the chair in the corner that holds his beast of a boyfriend, a bottled water coming dangerously close to slipping from his exhaustion-induced slack grip. 

“I should get him home, the adrenaline has worn off. I love you both so much, and you,” he ruffles Jee’s hair and leans in for a group hug, placing a kiss in his sister's hair. If he thinks too hard about everything he might cry, so he leaves unsaid and squeezes her tight hoping she understands. 

He takes the water bottle from Tommy’s hands and stands between his legs, gently cupping his cheek, “Hey, you are exhausted, let’s get you home. I’ll drive you.” 

And Tommy looks up at him through his eyelashes– how had Buck not noticed those before now? 

“You don’t have to– you should stay here. I’m sure Maddie–” 

“What she wants is for me to get you home safely, and visiting hours are almost over anyway.”

He can see Tommy trying to come up with a rebuttal, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something and then gives up.

Buck grabs Tommy’s turnout coat from the back of the chair, folding it over his arm and taking Tommy’s hand in his. 

“Congratulations again you two,” Tommy says as enthusiastically as he can before they turn toward the door.

—

Buck is awkwardly sitting at a table in the common area of Harbor. It feels weird to be in another station without his reason for being there within sight. Tommy had assured him that it was okay for him to sit, and if anyone gave him trouble to tell them that he was there with him. 

“Buckley! What are you doing here?” a familiar voice nearly makes him jump out of his seat. 

“Lu-Lucy! Hi.” 

She stands behind the chair across from him, leaning on her elbows on the top of the chair. And she actually waits for him to answer. 

“I-I’m waiting for Tommy. Had to swing by to drop off his turnouts and get his bag.”

Her brow crinkles a little and she cocks her head, “his shift ended hours ago?” 

“He uhhh, he came to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’s pretty exhausted so I’m driving him home.” 

“He went to a wedding after that fire? In his turnouts?”

“It was at the hospital, wild story really. And I asked him to be there, so he was.” he blushes a little as he watches her do a little math. 

“Donato! Are you bullying Evan?” Buck can hear the smile on Tommy’s lips as he feels his hand land on his shoulder. He looks up at his boyfriend, and Tommy leans down, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. He looks a little brighter after rinsing off in the station showers and changing back into his Henley. 

“I was wondering why you had table privileges,” she smiles. “So, Chim finally got hitched huh, tell him and Maddie congrats for me.”

“Will do,” Buck smiles at her, and she walks away toward what he assumes is the snack cabinet. “Let’s get out of here and you into bed huh?” 

“You read my mind.” 

—

There’s a stillness in the car as they sit in Tommy’s driveway. 

“Evan, come inside. You’ve had a long stressful day too.” 

It’s like Tommy is inside his head, he doesn’t want to be alone tonight, not when he didn’t have to be. 

“And if the texts you sent me last night are any indication, you also did it all while hungover which I’m sure wasn’t all that pleasant. And, besides, you still owe me at least one dance.” 

“You are practically falling asleep sitting up and you want to dance?” 

“It’s what I was promised.” 

TOmmy reaches over the console between them, turning Buck’s face toward him, leans in and kisses him in earnest. Not quite as intense as their greeting earlier and not as gentle as their first. “Just come inside please,” he says just above a whisper against his lips. 

“Okay.” 

—

Buck takes in Tommy’s little house, it’s cozy with some of its years showing. 

“You can move past the entryway Evan. Just take your shoes off.” 

“Oh,” he replies softly, barely having noticed that he was slightly frozen. He toes off his shoes.

“C’mere,” Tommy holds out his hand, a song that Buck doesn’t know the name of softly drifting from the speakers. He lands in his boyfriend’s arms and it feels like it’s exactly where he is supposed to be. One hand on his neck, the other clasped together in Tommy’s, his other hand resting on his waist. It’s mostly quiet as they sway in the middle of the small living room. 

“You know, I never really got the whole hot firefighter thing until I saw you walk through those doors?” 

“You really are adorable.” Tommy smiles.

“Thank you for today. It means a lot that you did really try your damndest and succeeded.” He says earnestly. 

“Of course. It was important to you.” 

And Buck can’t help but kiss him for that, and he does, because he can. 

[devildom-moss]

idk how to verbalise this idea properly so bear with me but: mc whose entire logic in life is 'fuck it we ball' including when it comes to romance, so they just completely go along with any attempts at flirting in a sort of "yes, and-" fashion

which probably only encourages said suitor and then mc has the Audacity to be surprised when it gets intense enough for them to realise they're actually being seduced lol

gn mc with just the brothers for now pls!! thank u for your services

Hopefully this request is what you were looking for. Honestly, I had a bit of confusion while writing, but I tried. I went with headcanons because that seemed like the best fit. Thanks for the request.

gn!MC who casually flirts back with the demon brothers headcanons

(and then has the audacity to be surprised that they're being genuinely pursued)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +2700

Lucifer

Lucifer is an awful flirt, trying so hard to fluster MC and convince them of his dominance. (Where’s it at though? I don’t see it.) His flirting is so suggestive that it’s actually pretty easy to just assume it’s a bit of playful teasing between friends.

For MC, it plays out like those posts that say something and then escalate immediately – something like “Kiss your homies goodnight. Kiss them with tongue. Eat their ass.”

Having an MC who flirts back with him can be a bit embarrassing, and it gets Lucifer’s hopes up so much. (“Could you pour me another cup of coffee, MC?” “Third one this morning, Luci. Not sleeping well?” “I’m afraid not. Perhaps you should come over and help – but then again, we might not get much sleep if you do.” “Aw, Luci, do you want me to fuck you senseless to help you fall asleep?” “If you’re offering, who am I to refuse.”)

He’ll be frustrated that MC keeps flirting with him, but they never follow through.

Lucifer is so horny that it’s absurd. MC could be completely normal, and this man would be thirsting. (“I really don’t want to do this lesson. This chapter is so boring.” “Normally, I wouldn’t use positive reinforcement, but if you complete your work, I’ll reward you.” “What kind of reward?” “Come to my room tonight and find out.”)

Poor MC doesn’t realize they’re being seduced until Lucifer has dragged them into his bed.

“Sleep with me.” “I’m not really tired, Lucifer.” “Good. Then you’ll have plenty of energy to make out and maybe even fuck me – if you want.” His touch would be so intimate – rubbing their inner thigh or groping their ass. “IF I WHAT?!?”

Lucifer would turn pink up to his ears. Part of him thinks MC is just teasing him again, but he would quickly realize that they’re being genuine. He’d feel absolutely humiliated. Did they not want him at all? Did all of that flirting mean nothing?

Before he could die from the shame, Lucifer would manage to blurt out, “Do you want me or not?” He wants some honest commitment in return for his affection, and if MC won’t bring that, that’s unacceptable. Of course, there is some thrill in a chase, but in that moment, Lucifer won’t have it in him. It would be a battle to fight some other day.

If MC tells him no or gives a half-hearted response, he will ask them to leave his room with one hand covering his blushing face. He wouldn’t even be able to look at them as he closed the door – and he’d probably avoid them for a day or two. (Also, he might cry a little after the door is locked).

If MC insists that they do want him, he’ll be especially needy while also acting all sadistic – attempting to tease them to distract from his own embarrassment. This poor loser will require so many kisses to reinflate his ego.

Mammon

To be fair, Mammon would bring this upon himself. He loves to act like he’s uninterested – constantly interrupting his fawning and puppy-like following of MC to save himself from the absolute humiliation of being *gasp* honest about his feelings.

I can see Mammon regularly initiating flirting, but this man can’t follow through to save his own life (maybe to save the life of someone else, though). An MC who reciprocates his flirting would leave him a blushing, flustered mess. Most of the time, his embarrassment cuts the interaction short.

“Ya just can’t get enough of the Great Mammon, can ya?” “Of course not, you handsome devil~” “I- uh! Hmph! Damn right!” he’d say it, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact while the blush rises in his cheeks. How is MC supposed to respond?

If they tease him further and flirt more, he’ll just yell and tell them to knock it off. If they just shrug it off and move on, Mammon will be too flustered to make another move on them that day. The flirtatious spark just kind of fizzles out like a defective firecracker.

It takes a lot of boldness on Mammon’s end to get MC to realize he’s being serious. And honestly, Mammon is so adorable, MC may have the opportunity to take the initiative and push things a little further first. (You want to tell me most MCs could just flirt with Mammon, reducing him to a blushing, aggressive mess, and go back to watching that movie or playing that video game upon Mammon’s belligerent demand, and not want to kiss his face? Okay, sure.)

But let’s ignore that thought and say MC follows Mammon’s flirting in the “yes, and” fashion. After Mammon continuously sabotages his own chances, eventually, he’s going to get so frustrated that he will smother his own shyness long enough to get what he wants.

He’ll get MC alone and string together some make-shift confession – a plea for more. “Ya know, if ya wanna kiss the Great Mammon or somethin’, I’m not gonna stop ya – like, I mean, I want a little more outta ya. So, don’t hold back just cause ya think I don’t want to or nothin’.” (translation: Please kiss me. I know I act like I don’t want you, but I really, really want you to kiss me. Please, please, please.)

His face will burn, and a blush will work its way up to his ears. It’ll be hard to deny the intensity of his feelings, and it will weigh down on MC – a truth previously held in a bag on their back, tethered to dozens of helium balloons that disguised its weight, and then suddenly found every string cut loose by Mammon’s admission. He really loved them. For his confession, all Mammon would get was a stunned but heartfelt “oh.”

He gets so upset and embarrassed that MC didn’t realize he was being serious before. He went on a rollercoaster of emotions; meanwhile, this whole time, they hadn’t even taken his advances in earnest. It’s practically offensive.

The only remedy for Mammon’s bruised dignity is for MC to immediately hold and kiss him until he’s temporarily satisfied. (“Ya owe me big time for not takin’ me seriously.”)

Leviathan

I mean, he kind of has to flirt before MC can flirt back – unless we’re going to count accidentally blurting out his innermost perverted desires as flirting. Sure, I suppose it’s basically flirting to tell someone “It’s sexy when you tell me what to do. I can’t stop imagining you doing that in other settings.”

He’s so bad at flirting that nothing will happen for a long time after he realizes he’s head over heels. Levi is fine spending the rest of his (or at least MC’s) life pining for them – or at least he believes that. But the longing and desire will start to creep in, and he’ll wonder how much he can ask from MC. Friends can hold hands and maybe even cuddle, right? Maybe even kiss? Could they even –?

The thoughts eat away at him until he can’t wait for MC to make the move anymore. It slips out of him like some mating request written by Dr. Suess: “Would you –? Could you –? With an otaku? A gross, disgusting one, too?”

Levi is so visibly flustered that he doesn’t leave much room for ignorance. Even the most extreme masochist wouldn’t subject themselves to the furiously blushing, trembling state that Leviathan had worked himself into. He’d be on the brink of tears. All his hope in the world would be precariously perched on a ledge, awaiting your response.

I can’t see MC not knowing that Levi was attempting to seduce them, but perhaps the timing of it came as a surprise. Or perhaps they had never taken his affection seriously. He has so many favorites that he can’t pursue; just because he has a massive crush on MC doesn’t mean he had plans to act on it.

He will get even more embarrassed and down on himself to know that MC didn’t take him seriously at first. He understands, but that doesn’t make it any less hurtful.

He will require physical reassurance – as much of it as MC is willing to give him. And honestly, if MC doesn’t end up kissing him until he forgets how to think after his confession, he’ll probably hide in his room for a few weeks purely out of shame.

Satan

With an MC like this, the back-and-forth flirting goes on for an inordinate amount of time. Satan is not a flirt by any definition, but when there’s someone he likes, he knows how to turn on the charm. He’s smart, passionate, and mentally quick on his feet; he’s a natural charmer for the right audience.

Satan moves pretty slow when romance is concerned. If Levi wasn’t such a hopeless cause (affectionately), Satan would probably be the slowest to escalate a romantic relationship. He and MC will have a dozen dates under their belts before the desire for more had become an unbearable burden for Satan to silently ignore.

Eventually, Satan would find himself reading in his room with MC, unable to hold back anymore. He would ask, “Would you mind if I kissed you?” “No, I don’t mind if you want to.” “Could I kiss you now?” “Eh, sure.”

Everything up to that point could have been misread as platonic or some casual interest – maybe even curiosity on his end.

But he was serious, and it was evident in the way he approached MC to collect that kiss. He would straddle their hips, set their book aside (face down to mark the page like a real gentleman), and lean down for the kiss. Then, his lips would move against theirs, and the smallest sigh would escape him like a quiet release of sexual tension that had pressurized his entire body. Then, it would all click for MC.

Surprisingly, he wouldn’t be upset or humiliated if MC hadn’t taken him seriously before. In fact, he sees it as more of a personal failing, and in a low, seductive voice, he would tell them, “Allow me to prove how genuine and deep my feelings are for you.”

Asmodeus

He flirts with everyone, so how was MC supposed to know??

He asks them on dates so often. He’s probably the only one who could make out with MC and they’d still think, “yeah, we’re besties” because when Asmo pulls away with a giggle and a grin, telling them how much fun that was, it doesn’t feel serious.

It would take a moment of angst – either Asmo feeling like MC doesn’t take his advances seriously enough (and they don’t) or MC getting down on themselves – for them to realize.

Asmo would pull them into his room and leave small kisses all over them, peppering in compliments. “You’re so gorgeous, and I adore looking at your face.” Then, he would kiss their cheek. “You’re such a sweetheart.” Then, the other cheek. “I always have so much fun when I’m with you. I don’t ever want you to leave my side.” He would kiss their forehead. “I want you to feel confident; you’re such a wonderful soul.” (He would probably add more compliments if MC was feeling self-conscious.)

His words would get sweeter and more honest. “I feel seen in your eyes – like every part of me is accepted. I don’t have to play it up or try.” He would work his way down their neck with soft pecks to their skin. “I want to share everything beautiful in this world with you.” In part to avoid meeting their gaze. “I want to make you smile with everything I have.” And in part so he could whisper the words into their ear. “I want to help you whenever you need me. I’ll sit right next to you through any pain and hardships you encounter.” No one else had earned the right to hear his praise and affection. “I want to be a comfort for you – someone you can return to like a home.”

Finally, he would face them with a striking affection. “You know I’m in love with you, right? It’s not just lust and fun. You’re everything. You matter the most – after me, of course. It’s me and you and everything else.”

Asmo seduces everyone. That isn’t shocking. But this was more than seduction. It was genuine courtship. He won’t fault MC for being surprised. It caught him off guard too.

Beelzebub

Beel is not super flirty, but he makes it known that he cares through his actions. So, there aren’t many opportunities for MC to “yes, and” flirt back with him.

He asks them out to get food often and brings them snacks, but that doesn’t signal any romantic intentions. Sometimes he might stare at MC affectionately or admit how happy he is to spend time with them, but it’s nowhere near intense.

Sometimes, he asks for something more selfish. It starts small: petting his head, holding his hand, hugging him. None of those register as seduction from Beel for MC, especially compared to the affectionate nature of his twin. In fact, no one would fault MC for thinking these were platonic wants. After all, Beel has been through a lot. Sometimes this sweet, big baby boy just needs physical affection.

Then, he would get a bit bolder with his requests: “Could you feed me?” “Can I feed you?” “Would you hold me?”

As innocent and platonic as Beel may seem, he makes a lot of off-hand remarks that sound a bit perverted. “I bet MC’s lips would taste good.” “I wonder what you taste like.” “MC has nice hands. I bet they would feel good…” These comments could open the door for some flirting from MC, though. “Wanna taste me, Beel?” “Should I give you a massage? Or maybe something more?”

MC flirting with him would make his heart race. Even if MC didn’t follow through with their flirtatious offer, it would encourage Beel to keep pushing his luck.

Finally, he would ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Beel would look so shy and embarrassed, holding his hands awkwardly to his chest, that it would be hard not to take him seriously. The question – and his desire – would be a slight shock. Beel wouldn’t mind that MC was surprised, although he would be disappointed if he was turned down.

If MC takes him up on that offer, they will come to realize that his ravenous hunger showed itself through a kiss, too – as if he had been starving for MC’s touch and affection.

Belphegor

He’s so affectionate and cuddly. In that way, he’s similar to Asmo; it’s pretty hard to tell how serious and intense Belphie’s feelings are. He’s just kind of like that.

It’s common for Belphie to ask to be spoiled with affection – head pats, feeding him, hugging him, sleeping together, going out with him, praising him, holding his hand, being his pillow, etc.

His need for attention doesn’t cover up for how flushed his face gets when MC is the one to give him affection. His neediness doesn’t explain how much he clings to MC or how he blushes and tells them not to stop touching him.

So, actually, he’s less flirty than he is demanding of attention. Going along with his demands only encourages him to vocalize and act on more of his desires. He’d even ask permission to kiss them and to be kissed.

MC probably wouldn’t figure it out until Belphie starts sleepily trying to make out with them.

“Belphie, are you half-asleep?” “What? No. I’m awake. Why?” “That was a really heated kiss.” “Of course it was. Can we keep going?” “I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t you like me back? We sleep together, go on dates, cuddle, and you even let me kiss your face and neck whenever I please. Don’t you want to go further?”

It hits them. Belphie can read the look of surprise on MC’s face, and it makes him pout. MC really should have known how he felt by then, but he’s confident that his affection is reciprocated before MC even responds.

“Sheesh. You’re really difficult, you know? I’ve had to do a lot of the work here because you’re so dense.” Belphie would straddle MC’s lap and take off his shirt. “I’ll let it go this time, but you better start putting in more effort from now on.”

A/N: Only about 1 hour left to vote in the poll. And we just got to 100 so y'all are getting 2 posts this month. Genuinely, I typed this a/n up, talking about only needing one more vote, checked it again, and the one vote is no longer needed. Good job, y'all. I swear if there are ties...

[eveninggstar]

my kink is karma ⊹ ࣪ ˖

charles leclerc x singer!ex!reader, unspecified driver x singer!reader

24.07.24

୨ৎIt's been six months since you and Charles broke up in April. Since he kicked you out, his team's performance has noticeably declined. Despite the breakup, you've kept up with the races and are often seen watching them. Some of Charles's fans have labelled you as jealous or worse, but in reality, you simply find satisfaction in seeing Charles fail after he proved to be an inadequate boyfriend. So much so you would joke its your kink.

୨ৎ back a page ୨ৎ back two pages

pretend monaco gp was in april, not may lol also the timeline is all over dont mind it lol (this isnt one of my best fanfics)

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Charles crossed the finish line, claiming victory at the Monaco Grand Prix. You stood by the sidelines, your heart swelling with pride as he emerged from his car, triumphant and glowing with sweat and adrenaline. As the celebrations unfolded, you finally found a moment alone with him in his driver’s room.

"Congratulations, Charlie!" you beamed, wrapping your arms around him. "What are we going to do to celebrate tonight?"

His expression shifted from joy to irritation in a heartbeat. He pulled away from your embrace, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I just want a moment alone," he snapped, his voice low but sharp.

The words stung, and you took a step back, trying to hide your hurt. "What do you mean?"

He sighed heavily, avoiding your gaze. "You're always around, always asking for attention. It's like you’re trying to piggyback off my success to boost your own career."

Your breath caught in your throat. "That's not true, Charles. I’m just proud of you and want to support you."

"Well, it doesn’t feel that way," he said, his tone colder than the champagne being sprayed on the podium. "You're annoying, and I need some space."

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. "Fine. I'll give you space." You brushed some loose hair behind your ear. "I’ll see you at home, I guess."

The following Tuesday, the apartment you shared felt colder than usual. Charles had been distant since the race, and you could sense something was wrong. As you walked into the living room, you found him waiting, his expression unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Your heart sank. "What’s going on?"

"I think it’s best if we go our separate ways," he said bluntly. "This isn’t working anymore."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "Charles, please, can we talk about this?"

He shook his head. "No. I’ve made up my mind. I want you to move out."

Tears finally broke free, streaming down your face. "But where will I go?"

"That's not my problem," he said, turning away from you. "You have until the end of today to pack your things."

With those final, cold words, he walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, shattered and alone in the apartment you had once called home together.

The days following the breakup were some of the darkest you’d ever known. You found refuge at your parents' home, which once felt warm and inviting and a good idea to bring Charles to, but now felt hollow and cold. Even when he ditched you, he couldn’t help but ruin something you held so dear. But instead of succumbing to despair, you channelled your emotions into your music. Late nights found you in your makeshift home studio/childhood bedroom, writing and recording songs that poured out your heartache, frustration, and eventual acceptance.

You released your music under an alias, wanting the work to stand on its own and not attract the flood of F1 fans wanting to see how you were after the "golden boy" broke everything off. To your surprise, the songs quickly gained traction. The raw emotion and honesty resonated with listeners, and your music began to blow up. The overwhelming support and success of your songs helped you heal. You started to feel happier and more fulfilled, finding strength in your own achievements. And it had only been a week!

One day, you decided it was time to reveal yourself. You posted a video on social media, explaining the journey behind your music and how it helped you through the toughest period of your life. The response was overwhelmingly positive, with fans praising your bravery and authenticity.

Meanwhile, Charles's career took a downturn after his Monaco win and the breakup. Ferrari’s performance in the following races was abysmal, plagued by mechanical failures and strategic errors. His frustration was evident, both on and off the track.

In a desperate attempt to distract himself and perhaps regain some control, Charles decided to change his appearance. During an interview, he was asked about the patchy, orange highlights in his hair.

“I thought a change might do me some good,” he said, running a hand through his hair and forcing a smile. “But clearly, it didn’t turn out the way I planned.” He sensibly decided to wear a hat until his mother was free to fix it, yet she had very little free time that lined up with his busy schedule.

Maybe karma was real, and it was his turn.

The Canadian Grand Prix was a disaster for Charles. During the race, a miscalculation led to a devastating crash. The car spun out of control, smashing into the barriers. The crowd gasped, and the cameras quickly cut to the chaotic scene. Fortunately, he was unharmed, but the crash marked a low point in his career.

As the medics rushed to Charles’s side, the camera panned over the crowd. There you were, sitting in the stands with your sunglasses on, watching the scene unfold. A slight smile played on your lips—not out of malice, but as a quiet acknowledgment of how far you had come since that painful breakup. You had found your path and your peace, and seeing Charles now, it was clear you were better off.

As Charles struggled with his racing career, his personal life took a turn that left many puzzled. He began dating a string of significantly younger women, each relationship seemingly lasting no more than two weeks. The media and fans noticed the pattern, and speculation ran rampant. It seemed like Charles was desperately searching for something—or perhaps someone—to fill the void.

Meanwhile, your career continued to flourish. You were seen at a variety of high-profile events: fashion shows, music festivals, charity galas, and, yes, occasionally at races. Your rising fame meant your presence was increasingly noted, and the public couldn’t help but draw connections between your appearances and Charles’s chaotic love life.

Some of Charles’s more fervent fans took to social media to voice their opinions, accusing you of being jealous of his new girlfriends and of Charles himself. They claimed you were trying to stay in the spotlight by being seen in the same places he frequented. The reality, however, was far from their accusations; your success had brought you to these venues on your own merit.

One evening, you attended a high-profile charity gala. Dressed in an elegant gown, you mingled with other artists, philanthropists, and celebrities. The event was buzzing with excitement, but the atmosphere shifted when Charles arrived with his latest girlfriend, an 18-year-old model. Whispers spread through the crowd, and cameras clicked furiously as the couple made their entrance.

You found yourself near the press line when Charles and his date approached. Despite the awkwardness, you struggled to hold back your laughter, it coming out as a quick snigger. Charles’s eyes briefly met yours, and there was a flash of something—regret, maybe, or recognition of how much had changed. Your reaction caught the lingering eyes of another driver who was present at the same gala.

Later that evening, you were approached by a group of Charles’s fans when a different driver had so graciously offered to walk you home. Their faces were a mix of anger and curiosity. “Why are you always around?” one of them demanded. “Are you still hung up on Charles?”

You took a deep breath, maintaining your calm demeanor. “I’m here for my career,” you said evenly. “Just like everyone else. My presence here has nothing to do with Charles.” You turned to look at the man holding your hand. "Charles is the least of my concern." After you said his name wrong in front of these die-hard fans, their faces morphed into more disgust (if possible).

It had been another tough race weekend for Charles. His frustrations were evident not only on the track but also during the post-race interviews. Sitting down with a popular motorsports journalist, he was asked about the ongoing challenges with his team and his personal life.

"Charles, it's been a rough season for you. How are you coping with all the changes, both professionally and personally?" the journalist inquired, genuinely concerned.

Charles shifted in his seat, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes. "Yeah, it's been tough. The car isn't performing as well as we hoped, and there have been a lot of distractions off the track too."

The journalist nodded, sensing an opportunity to dig deeper. "Speaking of off-track distractions, there's been a lot of media attention on your former partner. She's been seen with another driver quite frequently. Any thoughts on that?"

Charles's jaw tightened, and he forced a smile. "I think it's interesting how some people move on quickly and find comfort in familiar circles. It’s almost like they’re trying to stay relevant by associating with those still in the spotlight."

The journalist raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Are you suggesting that she's using this new connection to boost her own profile?"

Charles shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm just saying it's curious. I focus on my career and my performance. If others choose to spend their time differently, that's their prerogative."

The comments made by Charles quickly spread across social media and the news, stirring up a storm of speculation and opinions. Fans and analysts dissected his words, trying to decipher whether he was shading you and the other driver you had been seen with.

You had indeed been seen frequently with another driver, but it wasn't anyone's business, especially Charles's, if you "moved on too quick." Both of you had bonded over shared interests and the mutual understanding of life in the spotlight. The growing relationship had been a source of comfort and support for you, but now it was being dragged into the media circus.

Despite the media frenzy, you continued to thrive. Your music career soared, and your public appearances were met with admiration and respect. The relationship with the other driver remained a positive influence, untainted by the rumors and insinuations.

As for Charles, his comments eventually faded from the headlines, overshadowed by the ongoing drama and excitement of the racing season. The world continued to watch, always eager for the next twist in the tale, but you had found your peace and your path, no longer defined by someone else's shadow.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

if this is your first time reading one of my fics i promise i can write better (i genuinely feel as if this was a flop) also if you saw this before i deleted the first version and had it copied twice no you didn’t

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[supernovafics]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)

summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner 

author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen. 

The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.

It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s. 

A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.  

But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together. 

And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.

When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.

And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.

Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening. 

“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”

“Shit.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.” 

You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago. 

An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.

“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table. 

He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was. 

It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.

“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.

“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.

A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.

“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”

You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.” 

“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”

You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”

Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”

You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.

“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.

She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”

You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.

It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment. 

You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all. 

You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.

Of course, you didn’t say that, though.

Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said. 

You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face. 

“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.” 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.

“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”

“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered. 

“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”

You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.” 

You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs. 

In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.

“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”

You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable. 

“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night. 

You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight. 

The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food. 

You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking. 

“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”

 Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”

“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”

“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”

“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well. 

You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time. 

“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”

A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold. 

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“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”

You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.

“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”

“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”

He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”

“Robin helped me with it.”

“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this. 

The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did. 

Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents. 

But now things were finally different.

“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”

You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Me too,” You said softly. 

“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”

You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”

“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”

You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”

“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”

You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)