#i figure she can go with him and next round they get locked out?

[rafeandonlyrafe]

baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

--

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.” 

--

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

-- 

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

--

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

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[evielmostdefinitely]

please something about pregnant capitol!reader. maybe she's pregnant and coriolanus is over OVER protective?

watchful eye |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, pregnant!captitol!reader and protective!coryo.

contains: reader is pregnant. alludes to dom/sub themes. some talk of violence. protective/possessive coriolanus. mainly fluff.

“Are you alright?” Coriolanus' eyes scanned the room, a predatory gaze that commanded the room. His hand found the small of your back, a soothing rub over the material of your dress, pressing into the spot on your spine that was always aching lately. 

“Yes.” You nodded, giving a forced smile in case others were watching. Your hand smoothed over the swell of your abdomen, prominent now. 

You were surprised Coriolanus let you out into the public now that you were showing. He’d been so careful with the news, so cautious that others might find out and want to harm you. You supposed that's why he’d commanded more Peacekeepers to the Districts, curfews and whippings and hanging multiplied to anyone even seen with a rebel- to drive them out, make an example of them, scare the others. All to keep you safe, or so he told you. 

With the next games coming up, you were at the annual party hosted before the Reaping tomorrow, full of Capitol socialites all fluttering with excitement at your news. Still, a haunting aura hung in the air, like they were all scared- perhaps it was because of the way Mrs. Bezel was drugged away to Dr. Gaul’s torment chamber for touching your rounded belly. Coriolanus hadn’t even batted an eye before the Peacekeepers were yanking the elderly woman away mercilessly, dragging her through the crowds of terror-ridden onlookers. 

“If you need to take a seat-” Coryo started, waving over an Avox with a sharp flick of his wrist. 

“-I’m alright, darling.” You hummed gently, placing a calming hand over his. 

“You need to rest.” Coriolanus’ eyes narrowed lightly, the same stern look he always gave you with your defiance, one that told you to obey. 

You hated the way it made you throb, you’d blame it on the hormones again. “I’m alright.” You smile sweetly. “I’m afraid if I sit, I’ll never get up again.” You tease lightly, a real, honest grin spreading across your face. It made Coryo’s heart skip. 

“Are you tired, then?” Coryo asked, hand pressing into your back again, fingers rubbing the knot gently there. Your spine had curved, figure caved to accommodate such growth- the habitat of your unborn child. 

“Only a little.” You admitted, looking down at your swollen stomach. “I can last, Coryo. I will be alright-” 

“-Nonsense.” Coryo shook his head, waving over the lead of his staff. “Make the announcement and ensure everyone leaves.” He commanded, his hand still on you. “And we will see you tomorrow for the Reaping.” A chilling tone to his words that had you shivering, taking his hand gently. 

“You didn’t need to do that.” You hummed, slipping out the side door with him, down the hallway towards your own private living quarters. Your heels clicking against the marble of the floor, half steps to keep up with Coriolanus’ own stride. “I would have been fine.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Coriolanus rolled his eyes lightly. “You looked miserable.” 

You frowned. “I did not.” 

He snorted lightly, looking over at you, lips curled in a half smile. “Petal, you were restless tonight. Don’t think I didn’t see you slip your shoes off under the table.” 

You pouted, a waddle of a walk beside him, still clutching his hand. “They hurt.” You huff, looking down at your heels, swollen ankles aching from the wear of the beastly things. 

“I know.” Coriolanus smirked triumphantly. “I told you to let me know if it got too much for you. I’d have you escorted back.” 

“I didn’t want to go back.” You huffed, a swing of emotions Coriolanus was still struggling with understanding. “You’ve kept me under lock and key for months, Coryo. I wanted to be out, see other people, and socialize.” 

Coryo nodded, choosing not to chastise you. Not now, not with how your tone clipped, a warning that the floodgates of your angry, hormonal tears were not far behind. Instead, he turned the key to your wing, pushing the grand doors open, a hand ushering you in. 

Inside, he helped you out of your dress, moved your heels back into place when you kicked them off. You giggled at how he tickled down your spine, unfastening the hooks of your dress, a soft kiss to your shoulder that had you swooning. 

You lay on the bed, feet in Coryo’s lap, his thumb digging into the heel of your foot, smug at the way it had you sighing with relief, melting into the mattress. He told you the plans for the games, how he and Gaul had worked even harder to make them better than last year, the changes and added sponsors. 

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful, my love.” You muttered, eyes drooping with a heavy tug of your lids. He was lulling you to sleep, not that it was much of a challenge, you’d nearly exhausted yourself tonight. 

“Do you want me to draw you a bath?” Coriolanus asked, scanning your relaxed features. “Would that help with your back?” 

“No,” You shook your head, eyes fluttering open. “I’m fine.” 

Coryo frowned. “If your spine hurts, you should let me-” 

“-Coryo,” You cooed, eyes soft when they opened and met him. “I’m alright. I’m comfortable, just… just keep doing what you’re doing, please. It feels great.” You sighed, wiggling your foot back into his grasp, an accidental brush over his crotch that had him flushing. 

If you weren’t so tired, he would have fucked you into that mattress. You were so sensitive with the pregnancy, insatiable nearly. He hadn’t expected to be so attracted, that his desire grew with every new swell and rounding of your features, yet he found himself buried in your cunt every chance he could. 

Coryo had already taken you before the party, the glow in your features waved off as from the pregnancy instead of the way he’d ravished you before. He supposed that could have aided in some of the reasons you were so tired. 

“Tell me more about your plans.” You muttered, rolling your head into the pillow to look at him over the hill of your belly, your foot in his hand. “Who are the mentors for the Districts this year? Anyone we’d know?” 

Coriolanus’ heart swelled, boasting with pride. It was why he loved you so, the interest you showed him in his work, in his passions. His thumb circled around a knot in your heel, grinning at how you squirmed, answering your question sweetly.

[oceantornadoo]

ex husband price x f!reader

some drunkenness, heavy jealousy, this is a bit long

—

“another round!” you shouted to your new friends, smiling at the sounds of everyone cheering. you turned away and drunkenly maneuvered yourself to the crowded bartop, grin plastered on your face. you were so excited to go out with your new coworkers, people who didn’t know you were one year into your divorce and absolutely miserable. people who wouldn’t spew bullshit about moving on and exciting new chapter! or why did you guys break up in the first place? people who’d just let you be.

you pushed through to the front, raising your hand to signal the bartender. she looked poised to take your order, but the light in her eyes changed, a small smirk emerging as she tracked a figure who’d appeared next to you. “what can i get you, handsome?” you rolled your eyes, the alcohol bringing out emotions you normally hid in public. obviously, go her, but you really wanted to do these shots before going to the bathroom. “whiskey, neat.” you froze, shoulders bunching, heart beating, palms sweaty. you eagerly brushed your hands against your jeans, praying you had heard wrong. you turned away to sneak to the bathroom, but a hand shot out and grabbed your waist, pulling you into his side. “an’ a water for my wife.”

instinctively, you rolled your eyes at how the brows of the bartender shot up. it was always like this with him, people surprised he could be with you. one of the worst feelings in the world. “i’m fine, john.” you pushed at his hand, his viselike grip not budging from your waist. “you’re drunk.” you scoffed as he handed you your water. “that’s the point, john. to be drunk and have fun.” you’d said the last part a bit too harshly, covering your embarrassment by chugging your water. you still hadn’t dared to look at his face, too afraid of what you might see. you left the cup at the bar and turned away, determined to go back to your friends. he let you but kept his hand on your back, powerful strides mocking your slightly-more-sober ones. his presence always sobered you up, but you were determined not to let john stop your fun.

“hey guys! sorry, tender wouldn’t serve me, said i was too drunk.” you ended your quip with a grin, earning a similar one from your coworkers. “it’s fine! think i’m gonna head out soon, anyways.” said your favorite coworker, turning to you with a smirk. “looks like you caught yourself something interesting.” her eyes flicked up to john, his hand now settled on your hip, and then back to you. “he’s just my fuck buddy.” you stage whispered, loud enough so he could hear it. his hand tightened on your waist, the intended insult hitting its target. “love that for you, babe. be careful, he has a ring.” you looked down at the hand on your waist, at his ring he’d never taken enough, even when you left yours on that kitchen table. “it’s fake.” john was tugging you into his torso, the welcoming scent of cinnamon and whiskey settling you. “time t’ go, sweetheart.” you said your goodbyes to everyone, choosing to pick your battles and not fight with your ex-husband in front of a new group of friends. thankfully, most were too drunk to notice the menacing captain behind you. wordlessly, you made your way to the exit, eyes locked on the ground as john led you to his apartment, walking distance from the bar.

“always havin’ to take you home.” you could hear the grin in his voice since you were still too scared to look into his eyes. the walk was sobering you up, your steps becoming sure again. “well excuse me, price, but no one asked you to come out. don’t be a fucking gaslighter.” he sighed, hand rubbing up and down your spine as if to calm you. “don’t call me that.” he wasn’t about to tell you that he still tracked your location, still watched it for his nightly entertainment. how he had notifications for when you went to bars, just in case. “can call you whatever i want. we’re not legally bound anymore.” that one hurt, more than the fake ring comment. you could sense it in the air, how his hand had paused on your upper back, your delicate truce broken.

john was berating himself, unsure about you for the first time in his life. did you not feel the same connection he did, the same ache in your bones when he was away? he knew you were meant for each other, obviously, but this…he didn’t know what to do if he wasn’t bound to you anymore. “i’m sorry, john. i didn’t mean it.” your apology was quiet, words sacred in the dark of the night. you had moved a bit closer so his hand slid to your shoulder, moving up and down, cupping the back of your neck. “‘s ok, sweetheart. you’re still drunk.” you both didn’t acknowledge how even when you were drunk, your tongue and mind were always sharp and truthful. how he knew that because that’s how you met, drunk insults flying in the back of some pub five years ago.

you blinked and you were at his door, watching his back muscles move as he unlocked it. you took in the jeans, the untucked shirt, realizing he wasn’t as put together as you thought. like he had run out the moment he’d sense you become drunk, like some angelic protector. he guided you in as you both took off your shoes, eyes squinting at the sudden light of the lamp he’d turned on. finally, in the safety of his home, you had enough strength to make eye contact.

“john!” your eyes were suddenly filling with tears, voice breaking on the last syllable. fuck, he’d wanted to wait until at least the morning for this conversation, dread piling up like stones in his stomach. “‘s nothin’, baby. go have a shower.” you shook your head vehemently, dragging him to the sofa near the lamp, settling yourself in a straddle on his lap. “you’re hurt.” a tear was threatening to fall and he couldn’t bear it, one hand pushing you down on his lap while the other wiped it away. “just a bruise now. i’ll be ok.” you shook your head at the sight of the absolute shiner on his face, the print of a fist on his jaw. your hands were shaking as you lifted them closer, careful not to hurt him. “you didn’t tell me.” practically pouting, you couldn’t control where the sudden burst of emotion came from. your man was hurt and he still came for you, even if you hadn’t wanted him there. “didn’t want you to worry.” his other hand dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer, the seam of your jeans touching the seam of his own. “i always worry about you, even when i don’t want to.”

he was too old for this, the emotional push and pull draining him more and more every week. the way you still clearly cared for him but refused to get back together, to live under one roof. he didn’t need to remarry you anymore, just wanted you like this, his pliant sweetheart and her sharp tongue all to himself. "what if i want you to? want you to worry about me." you gave him a watery smile, tilting your head to look at him better. your eyes, wet and wide. your skin, sticky from the bar but smelling like his favorite perfume all the same. your chest, heaving with the effort of holding back your emotions, breasts threatening to spill out. and finally your legs, jeans stretched over thick thighs as they accommodated his own. fitting together like long lost puzzle pieces, always meant to find each other again. "what if we got it wrong, john? what if, what if it's all been for nothing?"

that had been your mantra for the past year. what if, what if. what if you had been able to weather his long absences better? what if he had said no to a mission every once in a while? what if he hadn't missed christmas and new years and valentine's day? what if you hadn't had to take that pregnancy test alone, hands trembling at the negative sign, emotions swirling like a tornado inside you? he was nuzzling you now, that favorite facial hair of yours scratching the side of your neck as he inhaled your scent. "go'on an' shower, baby. meet you in bed." your hand curled from his neck to his head, scratching his scalp. the low moan he gave you reverberated in your bones, settling some unknown question deep in your heart. "shower with me. i don't want to be away from you anymore." he kissed your collarbone once, twice, then pulled his head back to meet your eyes. "we're not doin' anythin'. you're drunk." you were already scrambling out of his lap once he didn't say no, tugging him into his much-too-small bathroom. "help me shower since im so incapacitated." you and that tongue were back. "alright cheeky."

you pulled the bathroom door closed, then turned to face him with a twinkle in your eyes. your shirt had a zip in the front, something that had been taunting him all night. slow like molasses, you dragged your hand from collarbone to chest to the top of the zipper, unzipping the shirt with a grin on your face. john was zeroed in on your chest as you took the shirt off, having been deprived of your naked body for months. "don't get shy on me, love. keep goin'" you turned backwards, shimmying out of your jeans, giving him a show of the lace underneath as you tugged it down after. "did you miss me?" your mask was slipping, a struggle to keep it up as john started undressing as well, showing off all the muscle he'd maintained, even more after the divorce. he might have been preparing for this moment, who's to say. "more than words can say, love. c'mere."

he tugged you into the shower, turning on the shower. it sprayed out cold water and you slapped his chest with a yelp. "give me a warning, john!" he chuckling, kissing the back of your neck as he turned you to face the spray head on. "tha's for all the trouble you caused tonight, duckie. gave me a right headache." he hadn't called you duckie in years, some half-baked inside joke you'd both made one late night. "you're insane. only one who caused trouble was you." he hummed a non-reply, too busy reaching over your shoulder to grab the makeup remover in your favorite brand. his hands ghosted over your waist, turning you around so he could clean off the mess on your face. you closed your eyes on instinct, john's hands unbelievably soft on your face, treating you like some precious thing. he switched to body wash, taking his time with your shoulders, breasts, stomach, cunt, thighs. never doing anything suggestive, only acting with absolute reverence.

john had almost forgotten how magnetic your body could be, how pliant you were when he touched you. the sight of healed scars, stretch marks, moles, birthmarks - all made a constellation of perfections on your skin. he nosed at your cunt on instinct, inhaling his favorite scent in the world before tugging himself back. still drunk, old man. don't fuck this up. he turned you back around to wash everything off, making sure all suds were gone before turning off. your eyes were still closed, your silent compliance palpable. he finally gave you the kiss he'd been yearning for, hands coming to cup your face as his naked body enveloped your own in the steam filled room. you moaned at the feeling of him, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. you bit his bottom lip just to make sure it was real, it was him, that he still liked how you kissed. he answered you with a moan. john's strong hands lifted you up around him, opening his eyes only to maneuver you both out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, laying you on top of the sheets, wet and wonderous.

“john, i need you.” you practically whined, hungry at the sight of him laying you down on his bed. “not fuckin’, love.” you pouted, reaching for his shoulders. he came down easy, tucking you into him. “i’ve been miserable without you. and i hate you for it. but i want you so badly.” the truths were bitter on your tongue, coaxed out by the safety of being in john’s arms. “never lettin’ you leave again, sweetheart. with or without my ring, you’re mine.” he punctuated his words with kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your collarbone. without my ring might have been a lie, but what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. “will you sleep with me?” he nodded against you, possessiveness placated by the need in your voice. john pulled out of your arms, ignoring your whines, and messed around in his dresser, pulling out boxers for himself and a shirt for you. he pulled you up gently, pushing the shirt over your head with practiced ease. “c’mon.”

when you opened your eyes again, you were on top of john under the mostly-dry covers. one leg draped across his lower half with an arm on his chest, your head on his heartbeat. “this doesn’t mean all is forgiven.” he hummed something unintelligible. “and i’m not running to the courthouse with you tomorrow.” he chuckled at that. “sure, lovie. whatever you want.” you sniffed. “one more thing. i know you track my location. you can’t come bursting out of the woodwork whenever im having fun.” well that wasn’t happening, but he let you believe it. “time t’ sleep, duck.” he turned off the light, drowning you in peaceful dark. “‘m glad you’re back here.” here, in his arms. here, in his space. here, in his heart where you constantly lived. “me too, john.”

and when you woke up the next morning with your wedding ring slid back on your finger, well, you pretended to throw a bit of a fit, biting back a smile the whole time.

[bella-goths-wife]

Angel and Charlie talk about pet reader

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of SA, mentions of death, mentions of drug use, mentions of body image and starvation

“Heyyy angel” Charlie said with a try hard nonchalant tone that only showed her clear desperation as she sat next to him at the bar “how’s it going?”

Angel dust raised one questioning eyebrow before giving a subtle look to husk with the clear intention of getting him to leave for a moment. The barkeep let out an annoyed huff before placing angels drink in front of him and leaving to lock himself away with a bottle of whiskey for the night.

“You wanna talk ‘bout her” angel asked but his tone made it sound more like a statement “about pet”

“Whattt” Charlie exclaimed with an overly exaggerated disbelief “noooo”

Angel narrowed his eyes at Charlie with a very clear unconvinced look before taking a swig of his drink.

“Okay, maybe I want to talk about her” Charlie admitted with a sigh before looking at angel dust with a more hopeful look “will you tell me about her”

Angel thought it over before sighing and taking another drink.

“Okay” angel said hesitantly “what do you wanna know?”

“Is her name really pet?” Charlie asked quickly, glad for the opportunity to satisfy the curiosity that had built up in her for a few days now since she met you

“No” angel answered with a shake of his head “that just what the Vs call her”

“What’s her real name?” Charlie asked curiously

Angel goes to answer but something stops him as his mouth hangs open for a moment before closing and opening again.

“Y’know, i actually don’t know” angel realises with a confused look “no one does I think, we all just call her pet or kid”

Charlie has a look of disbelief at the lack of knowledge of your basic information before asking a question.

“What’s she like?” Charlie asked carefully, treading carefully after angel dusts fragile realisation

“…..quiet” angel answers after a few moments thought “but not in like the usual introverted way, more like a scared child way”

“Scared?” Charlie questioned with a confused look “scared of what”

“The Vs, Charlie” angel answers with a sigh “she’s scared of the Vs”

Charlie thinks about it for a few moments before her expression turns somber

“What do they do to her?” Charlie asks carefully “do they hurt her?”

“That and more” angel answers with a scoff “let’s just say their preference for her doesn’t make them less cruel”

“How do they hurt her?” Charlie asks with a concerned tone “is it similar to what happens to you”

“No thank fuck, their relationship with her stops her from going into my situation” angel says with he a grimace “Vox and velvette stick to the usual slappin’ around and so does Valentino, but let’s just say he doesn’t let her being only eighteen stop him from bein’ gross with her”

“That poor girl” Charlie sighs out with a sympathetic expression “how does she cope?”

“Rumour has it round the tower that every time she has a breakdown, they lace her food or drink with something to ‘relax’ her” angel says with a scoff “I’ve seen Valentino pop a few pills in her drink whenever he’s feeling like she’s due a punishment”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Charlie asks helplessly

“Unless you can figure out how to break soul contracts, there’s nothin’” angel states with a shrug “they have eyes on her all the time, the girl can’t even go to the bathroom without tellin’ one of them”

Charlie sighs and leans her head in her hands as she thinks about the situation before having an idea pop into her head and turning to angel dust with an excited expression.

“She could come here” Charlie says with an excited smile “like you did”

“And how you gonna do that?” Angel asks sarcastically “go into the tv station and ask Vox to pretty please let his pet move here?”

Charlie stays quiet but her excited smile gave all the conformation angel dust needed. He turns to Charlie with a desperate expression

“No, no, no, no” angel dust said desperately, his Italian accent becoming more prominent in his tone “you can’t Charlie”

“Why not” Charlie asks stubbornly

“That’s only gonna make things worse for her” angel tried to explain with a worried expression “you don’t understand Charlie, they have these rules in place for her-“

“I’m sure I can convince Vox to at least let her stay here at night and work during the day like you do” Charlie states, but she’s so far in her own mind concocting a plan that she might as well have been talking to herself “I could assure Vox that she would be safe here, and then they couldn’t hurt her”

“Charlie your not listening-“ angel dust tried to reason with her but is cut off

“Angel I can do this, I’ll be able to convince Vox” Charlie stated with a sure of herself expression “I’m gonna go there tomorrow! And who knows, she might be able to be redeemed”

Angel dust threw his hands up in defeat before finishing his drink and leaving for his room, he knew there was no getting through to Charlie when she had a plan in her head and she was determined.

But god did he hope you wouldn’t be punished to severely for her actions.

———————————————————————

Unbeknownst to either of the two demons, a certain radio demon had been listening to their exchange for some time now with a tight lipped grin.

He knew that the princess’s plan was foolish and could only end up with more severe isolation for you, it was extremely difficult to believe in the possibility that Vox would place you in the same facility where his nemesis was staying.

But he knew Charlie was blinded by her own desperate need to help and fix the demons around her problems, and while it was a lovely trait to have this was a delicate situation.

But no matter, the radio demon had already begun planning his own act of helping you escape the Vs thumb and place you under his instead.

He just needed time to figure out the logistics, and then you would be all his.

Tag list so far

@the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl @corvid007 @fandomaddict505

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: A prince and a pirate meet in a bar...

For Spiderbit Week Day One: Pirates

-

Las Casualonas used to be a smaller building, Roier thinks. More smoke, less space. More room for dancing, less room for goddamn swordfighting.

Roier watches passively as yet another pirate-wannabe gets thrown out of the building. He sips at his (terrible) beer, fingers idly drumming the table in a neat rhythm.

The loser's sword- a pitiful little thing with more holes than a slice of cheese- gets thrown out after them by the winner: a tall woman with white-blonde hair and a big floppy hat.

"Better luck next time!" she taunts. She laughs, loud and harsh and very pirate-y, and turns right on the heel of her boot to head back to the bar to order a round of celebratory drinks for her crew.

The sword on her belt shines dully in the dim tavern light, blood spattered across its blade.

Roier... considers. She's tough. She has a crew of tough-looking people- Roier watched them cheer her on during the fight, and he can see them surrounding her at the bar now with claps on the back and laughter. She has a nice sword. She has a big hat. She has to be a pirate, right?

But. But she just isn't right. She isn't the one he's looking for.

And so Roier turns his attention from the woman and back to the tavern as a whole. Back to the drawing board...

Pirates.

Oh, pirates.

There's a new law against piracy in the kingdom now. There's also a new pirate in the kingdom- or, rather, from the kingdom.

Coincidence? No. The new law was created within days of the Bear Captain's attempted assassination of the royal family's oldest child, and the Bear Captain hasn't been seen since the law was put into place.

This is a problem, because Roier wants the Bear Captain dead. He wants him more than dead, actually, but there are laws against torture these days, too. (UGH!)

And so Roier sips his (terrible) beer in Las Casualonas' most secluded table. He wants a pirate, but he wants a certain kind of pirate. One that will seek him out, not one who jumps onto tables and stabs a guy (though that is pretty cool, can't lie.)

The hood of Roier's cloak is pulled over his head. He's wearing gloves. He's in all-black, and he has a sword on his belt and two knives up his sleeves and another knife hidden in his boot.

His eyeliner is black, and that's all that matters, isn't it.

The woman and her crew leave the bar and head to a table across the tavern: out of sight, and now out of mind.

Roier sighs and looks down at his reflection in his beer. His eyeliner is smudged, ugh. He'll have to touch it up soon; he might be emo now, but he has standards.

His reflection blinks up at him: black eye and healing lip and broken nose. He looks pirate-y, right? Suitably criminal?

He tries a smile. Fails. Sighs again.

Flinches slightly as the chair across from him is roughly pulled out.

"Shit, my bad," he hears. Deep voice, kind of raspy as if he'd just been yelling.

Roier looks up from his drink and locks eyes with a stranger.

Roier... considers. Broad shoulders, some visible muscles, but not many. Solid figure and large, scarred hands. Short hair, scar across nose, golden earrings, bags under eyes, healing broken nose.

Rapier on his hip, and a pair of flintlock pistols hidden beneath his heavy-looking green coat.

Pirate, Roier thinks.

The pirate sits and immediately leans back into his chair with a groan and a slump, his face burying itself in his hands. He has rings on every one of his fingers, and they're shiny. Gold and silver and gold.

"Sorry if I'm intruding," the pirate sighs. "It's just... so much over there."

He doesn't point, but Roier's eyes go over the pirate's shoulder and towards the group of pirates the woman has at her table. (Is he one of them...?)

Roier shrugs. "It's fine."

(Because it is.)

"I was hoping for some company, anyway," he adds.

(Because he was.)

"Really?" the pirate asks, cracking his fingers apart and looking through the gap. He doesn't sound convinced. "You look..."

"Handsome?" Roier supplies.

"Yeah, but I was going to say, 'emo'."

Roier laughs. He can't help it. (He hasn't laughed since it happened, and it tears his throat up a little, but he almost can't feel the sting.)

Leaning forward slightly, Roier braces himself with his elbows against the table. He tries a smile, and he even sort of succeeds.

"Maybe I am," he hums. "But even emo guys have shiny things. Here."

He manages to smile a bit wider as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shiny gold piece. He places it on the table and slides it across, his fingers lingering as the pirate snatches the gold piece up.

Both hands turning the gold piece over, and suddenly so much more attentive, the pirate frowns: contemplative.

"Okay," he cautiously says. He looks up and furrows his eyebrows at Roier. "What do you want."

Roier's fingers tap against the table.

"Eh, not much," he shrugs. "Just tell me what you know about the Bear Captain."

The pirate snorts and looks back down at the gold piece; his eyes are practically shining like stars, and it's really actually kind of adorable, actually.

"Who, Spreen?" he casually asks, not noticing the way Roier's entire body freezes up at the name. "He's new in the area. Not much of a captain. He doesn't even have any treasure."

Roier gasps dramatically. "Oh my God, he doesn't have any treasure!"

"Fuck you, treasure is important," the pirate huffs. "Who becomes a pirate for fun? It's all about the treasure."

He pauses, then: "Or... it's all about the killing."

Absently, Roier reaches up and scratches at his chest. The rough fabric of his shirt does not feel good under his nails, but he hardly notices.

The pirate looks back at Roier, eyes narrowed just slightly.

"Which are you?" he asks.

Roier hums, feigning confusion.

"Which kind of pirate are you?" the pirate asks. "Treasure, or killing?"

There's a pistol and a bag of ammunition in Roier's satchel at his feet, but he answers, scoffing, "Treasure, obviously? Do I look like a killer?"

He gestures towards himself with a painted grin. His scar just barely pokes out above the collar of his shirt, and so do the bandages plastered over his shoulder wound.

The pirate... considers.

Then, he smiles and looks back down at his new gold piece.

"You're right," he says. "And you're smart. Like I said, it's all about the treasure. Who needs to kill to get money when you can just steal it?"

He flips the gold piece into the air, and he grabs it mid-fall. He opens his palm, and... nothing.

He meets Roier's surprised gaze with a cheeky grin.

"But if you want someone dead, you're talking to the right guy," he says. "I'd have to talk it over with my co-captain, but-"

"Your co-captain?" Roier asks.

At the same time, the woman from earlier stands and cups a hand around her mouth and shouts, "Cellbit! Stop flirting and get over here! Tubbo's going to do a backflip!"

The pirate- Cellbit?- just rolls his eyes and flips her off without looking.

"Her," he says, voice just short of a sneer. "I'm down to kill whoever you want dead, but she'll be a bit harder to convince."

"Ah," says Roier.

He's still smiling, but it doesn't seem to be reaching Cellbit's eyes anymore.

Reaching forward, leaning across the table, Cellbit brushes a hand behind Roier's ear; Roier bites back a gasp, a shiver running down his spine.

As Cellbit sits back down, he holds up the missing gold piece. He flicks his wrist, and another gold piece slides out from behind the first one.

"She doesn't do it for the gold," he explains. He drops the coins onto the table, watching them roll into each other. "She has morals."

Roier frowns. "Is she even a pirate?"

"No, but I am, and so is half our crew. She prefers the term 'boat mafia'. But, anyway, let me finish here."

Cellbit reaches into Roier's cup and pulls out a third gold piece, placing it neatly onto the table near the other two.

"If someone was to come onto the ship and, say, kill the Bear Captain without Bagi's approval..."

He slides his gaze up to meet Roier's, smirking slightly.

(His eyes are so blue, Roier thinks. Just like the ocean...)

Roier finds himself smiling, genuine.

He nods. "I get it."

"Good. Now, let's go join the others so we can-"

Cellbit is cut off mid-sentence as Las Casualonas' doors crash open and a legion of armed guards come storming into the tavern.

Roier folds into himself, pulling his hood further down his face. (He was supposed to have more time, what the fuck?)

"Everybody, stop what you are doing!" Etoiles, the head of security for the royal family, commands.

The woman, Cellbit's co-captain, slowly turns to face him.

"Um," she says, "no? Who the fuck are you?"

"Who the fuck are you!" Etoiles counters. "Are you a pirate?"

"Technically, no."

"Oh, well that's alright, then. But everyone else!" He pulls his sword out and points it at the rest of the tavern. "Put your hands up where I can see them! Princess Leonarda has informed me that her cringe brother is being held captive in here- which is totally embarrassing, by the way, total rookie move from him, and I am not leaving without him!"

Cellbit looks at Roier.

Roier looks at Etoiles.

Etoiles looks at the barkeep.

Roier looks back at Cellbit.

"Kidnap me," he whispers. "I'll have you and your entire crew pardoned when Spreen is dead."

Without hesitation, Cellbit stands and kicks his chair backwards and turns and pulls both pistols out of their holsters and points them both right at Etoiles' heart.

"Cellbit!" the woman hisses. "We are not doing this again!"

Cellbit ignores her and says, voice low, "The prince is not going anywhere. He's coming with me."

"Okay, those two sentences contradict each other, but that's fine!" Etoiles says. "I may not be good at grammar, but I am much better at killing pirates. Are you ready?"

Slowly, Roier wraps his hand around his bag's strap under the table. He's beaten Etoiles once before, sure, he can do it again. Probably. Maybe. (Not in his condition, not now when he's still supposed to be under bedrest, but...!)

"Get ready to run, your highness," is all that Cellbit says in response.

He glances back at Roier, winks.

And then he pulls the trigger, the tavern explodes.

[munson-blurbs]

eddie/wedding/tequila 🍻

Drunk Eddie is my favorite Eddie to write hehehe 💚

Warnings: alcohol consumption, Eddie is absolutely plastered, allusion to smut

WC: 989

Join my 2k followers celebration!

--

The band plays the final note of The Police’s “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” and begins the opening chords of “Truly Madly Deeply.”

“Okay, let’s slow things down for all the lovebirds out there,” the lead singer croons into the mic. “Grab your sweetheart and bring ‘em onto the dance floor.”

You make your way over to your table and extend your hand. “May I have this dance?” you ask sweetly, frowning when the metalhead shakes his head. A lock of his curly brown hair comes loose from the bun at the nape of his neck. “Why not?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie slurs, taking another sip of his drink, “but ‘m married to the love of my life. I only wan’ dance with her.”

Stifling a giggle, you sit in the chair next to him and rub his back. “I know that. Because I’m your wife, Eddie.” You motion to the diamond on your ring finger and the silver band on his. “We’ve been married for two years.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he exclaims. “That’s awesome. ‘Cause you’re, like, s’fucking beautiful.” He gasps. “Holy shit, my wife is beautiful!”

The scent of tequila wafts from his breath, and you crinkle your nose. “Eds, how many shots did you and Robin do?”

Eddie whines and throws his head back. “Don’t make me do math at a party!” He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs your hand, placing it atop his scalp. “Can you give me scratches?”

You oblige, kissing just above his ear. “C’mon, puppy dog,” you tease. “Let’s get you back to the hotel room.” Starting to help him up, you spot Steve making his rounds, bow tie undone and face flushed from dancing. You send up a silent prayer that Eddie won’t attract his attention, but it must get intercepted. 

“Harrington!” your husband calls out. Multiple guests turn to face you; it is a Harrington wedding, afterall. “Get over here, big boy!” He stumbles towards the groom and claps a ringed hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy,” Steve says with a chuckle. “Y’havin’ a good time?”

“The best.” Eddie is fully leaning on his friend now, and you mouth Sorry in Steve’s direction. “Dude, my wife is so hot.”

You bury your head in your hands; your cheeks are burning with embarrassment. “Let’s go, Eddie,” you insist, grateful that Steve appears unfazed by the comment. 

“Stevie, you ever been in love?” Eddie asks, suddenly serious. His eyes are glassy and half-lidded; it’s only a matter of time before he falls asleep. 

Steve looks around at the hotel ballroom, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah. I just got married, like, three hours ago. You were a groomsman.”

“Shit, yeah!” Eddie sounds as though he’s receiving brand-new information. “Congrats, man. Anyway,” he presses on, ignoring you tugging on his sleeve, “I jus’ want you to know that I, Eddie Munson, am also in love. With this girl right here.” He flails his free arm around until he finds your waist and pulls you into him. 

“Well, I’m, uh, happy to hear that,” Steve manages, and you shoot him another apologetic glance before dragging Eddie to the elevator and into the hotel room. You can’t turn the key fast enough. 

Eddie flops onto the bed, still fully dressed in his tuxedo and shoes. You take a moment to appreciate the silence before he pipes up:

“We gotta beat Steve.”

Despite your better judgment, you respond with an incredulous, “what?”

“We gotta beat Steve,” Eddie repeats. “We got married, but now he’s married, too. So we’re not winning anymore.” He pouts for a millisecond before sitting up suddenly, steadying himself on the sheets. “We should have a baby!”

You burst out laughing. “Babe, I love you. But I am not bringing new life into this world just so you can win some imaginary competition against Steve.”

“Fine,” Eddie slumps down, defeated. 

You figure that will be the end of the discussion, but you should know better at this point. You’re rifling through your suitcase for a pair of pajamas when you hear the mini fridge door open. 

“What are you doing now?” you hiss. 

“‘M wooing you so you’ll have my baby,” he hiccups, pulling out a small bottle of Patrón and unscrewing the cap. “I call this one the ‘wraparound.’” Eddie proceeds to drag the bottle around his head, spilling tequila everywhere. “Oopsie daisy!” He cackles like it’s the funniest thing in the world. 

You pluck the half-empty bottle from his grasp and set it on the nightstand. “Eddie, get out of those clothes and Go. To. Bed.” you say through gritted teeth. 

Eddie snorts. “If you wanna see me naked, you gotta take me out to dinner first.” But he obliges, sleeping as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you snuggle in next to him. He rarely drinks beyond an occasional post-work beer, so you’re glad he let loose tonight. You just wish you didn’t have to babysit him. 

Eddie stirs, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist. “My sexy lil’ wife,” he mumbles. “Prettiest girl ‘ve ever seen.” He nestles into the crook of your neck. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Eds,” you tell him, brushing the stray hair from his face and kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Big day tomorrow. Gotta make a baby so we can beat Harrington.”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply tersely, rolling your eyes. 

But the next morning, after a cup of black coffee and two Advil, Eddie’s ushering you back into bed. 

“I was serious about that baby, sweetheart,” he muses. “And not because of a contest with Steve.” 

You smile, bringing your lips to his soft, plush ones. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirms, climbing on top of you and peppering your face with kisses. “But if there was a contest, we would totally be the superior couple.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

--

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

would be so funny if after sirius and reader fuck for the first time, the next time he sees remus hes debriefing like they used to when they were younger and remus is like “you never change do you” but sirius goes “she’s different!” because she is 🤭 and then glimpses of how sirius and reader act together that make remus realise that his friend is indeed whipped, head over heels, long gone

my first ask 🙇🏻‍♀️‼️ thank u. i’m not super confident in writing dialog but i gave it my best effort lmao

from the moment Remus gets back to grimmauld place… he knows something’s up.

The air feels different, and Sirius is all but skipping around the house.

Remus quickly puts two and two together as it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s been going on. Sirius wears his emotions on his sleeve, and it’s been obvious from the very beginning that he has an interest in you.

After a meeting, Remus pulls Sirius to the side and sighs. “Really, Sirius?”

Sirius can’t help the smug little smile on his face. He knows exactly what Remus is referring to, but he likes to play coy, and the back-and-forth between them is always a bit of fun. “Something on your mind, Remus?”

Remus wants to roll his eyes. He speaks in a quiet but firm tone. “Must I spell it out for you? Do you think what you’re doing is appropriate?”

Sirius responds with a simple glance of his eyes. He locks eyes with Remus, slowly looks over to Tonks, and then meets eyes with Remus again. As if saying ‘You’re not one to talk’ without having to say it

Of course Sirius would know about that. Remus thinks bitterly. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Sirius is smarter and more perceptive than he lets on.

Not bothering to try and save face, Remus defends quietly, “That isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Sirius asks, knowing he’s already won the confrontation without even having to say much.

Remus could create a list of reasons as to why Sirius Black of all people shouldn’t be sleeping with one of the new order members. No matter the reasons why, Sirius was never known for committed relationships or monogamy.

But right now isn’t the time for this discussion. The meeting’s just ended and everyone’s rounding up for dinner. Remus sighs. “You’ll never change, will you?”

Remus thinks the conversation is done, but Sirius replies after a short pause. Remus is mildly surprised by how genuine Sirius sounds when he says “This time is different, old friend.”

Remus knows Sirius. He knows him better than anyone else. And he knows that Sirius won’t take this so-called ‘relationship’ seriously.

In Remus’s mind, he thinks that Sirius is just bored. He knows it’s hard for Sirius to be trapped in his childhood home, and having a pretty girl around is a good distraction.

Throughout dinner, Remus can’t help but steal glances at the two of you. He watches the way Sirius listens to you when you speak, his eyes never straying from yours.

After dinner, Remus watches Sirius as he makes you a cup of tea. Sirius adds a generous amount of milk and a small pinch of sugar as if he’s already memorized your preferences.

Then in the middle of the night, Remus rises out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. Whilst passing by Sirius’s room, Remus can hear bits and pieces of your late-night conversations. It’s difficult to make out your quiet mumblings, but it’s got something to do with life after the war and possible children.

Remus decides to stop pestering Sirius. Perhaps this could be a good thing in the long run

[yetanotherhiddlestoner]

Working for the TVA meant you met a lot of cocky arrogant know it all variants but when it came to this Loki he was the worse. Both you and B-15 were taking bets on who got to prune him first, so far, she was winning.

Loki stood like a good boy next to the so-called Hunter b-15 as she drabbled on about something with Mobius, Loki's attention was focused elsewhere, that elsewhere was you. He notes the way the amour molded to your body perfectly. It shaped you hips, ass and breasts greatly. He also noted you were one of the few that refused to wear that ridiculous helmet and he was glad, he loved watching your hair fly round freely when you were kicking ass, or the way it flowed when you were storming up to him to give your two cents.

He always found a way to piss you off just so he had a reason to talk to you, he craved the attention you bestowed upon him even in the short bursts, he remembered every single one.

You glance over to the Trickster God and notice him staring. You roll your eyes, not again. You saw the way the shadows made his face look perfectly evil and you couldn't not help but feel your body react in a way that would end with you getting pruned if anyone found out.

The glance didn't go unnoticed by Loki, he smirked when his eyes locked with yours for the quickest second and darted away. Shortly after the group departed, Hunter went with Mobius, leaving you Loki alone in the room. Without saying anything you turn your heel and leave, but you hear him follow you. " Am I that bad you must leave my presence immediately? Or is there another reason, say you can't be trusted around me by yourself." You chuckle at him, and turn quickly, forcing him to stop and you to go straight into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, and it felt like bliss for a second, but you quickly tried pushing yourself out of his grip, his arms tighten. Loki looks down at you, eyes locking, he can feel your heart beating faster, he notes you are softer than all he imagined. Your body fits his perfectly. You try to speak but the words are struggling to come out. You don't want to admit it, but it feels so nice to have him wrapped around you. "Cat got your tongue Y/N?" His voice husky with need. "No?" He starts moving your bodies into a dark hidden corner of the TVA hallway. Loki moves his face closer to your, " I think you like this don't you Y/N. I can read you like one of Mobius's magazines, you want me just as much I want you. " You threw caution to the wind and wrapped your arms around his neck, making him come closer and kissed him. He just admitted the feelings were mutual. You feel him deepen the kiss, tongues clashing, he started grinding his length into you. You moan at the sensation, very soon you both are heavily breathing with want and need. Neither of you notice the figure behind the wall. Hunter B-15 peeks around the corner and smiles, gives two big thumbs up to Mobius and walks away.

[ellieluvr420]

Friends? Never. Pt.5 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

You had been strolling around the market looking for food to grab for you and Ellie for well over an hour now but you loved to walk and look at all the stalls and you easily spent 30 minutes in the fruit section alone, you had also spent too long looking at all the crafts Mabel had made. Mabel was a sweet elderly woman that always had a stall full of candles and jewellery, even makeup sometimes, she had always been so kind to you, slipping you little gifts whenever you'd visit. You were thinking to yourself about all the food you could make this week and what Ellie would want when you hear a familiar southern twang behind you.

"Hey kiddo, long time no see." You turn to see Joel's crooked smile as you face him and you find yourself returning it without a second thought despite the burning in your cheeks as you're faced with the man that witnessed so closely how you treated Ellie all those years ago. You were shocked he was talking to you but you remembered Ellie going round there for dinner one night last week so you thought maybe she had told him you were both okay now.

"Hi Joel, no kidding, how you been?"

"Same old, same old, how are you liking the new house?"

"Oh it's so beautiful, we've got the woods right behind us so there's no complaints about the view. Ellie's a pretty good roommate too I guess." You say jokingly and your heart flutters just a little when he joins you with a chuckle.

"Yeah she's told me a lot."

"She has? I would say good things I hope but I doubt it." Your tone is playful but you mean what you say.

"Are you kidding? She only has good things to say about you. I'm getting sick of listening to it to be honest. How about you both come over for dinner tonight and you can both annoy me instead of just her?" You're completely taken aback by his offer but the thought of having dinner with Joel makes you remember the dinner with your parents, it still plays on a loop in your head and all you want is to think of something different when you imagine dinner with parents so you agree before you even ask Ellie. You say your goodbyes and finish up at the market before starting a pleasant stroll back to your home.

As you get closer you notice Maria striding towards you. You're shocked by the sight because there's only about 3 houses within a close distance of where you are right now as you and Ellie live right on the outskirts of Jackson, but you smile at her anyway which she returns as she continues pacing towards her next destination.

Ellie had been rereading some of her favourite comics while you went out to the market until a knock at the door interrupts her. She knew it couldn't be you because you had a key and you also knew that Ellie never locked the door because you had scolded her for it many times so her interest piqued as she rushed towards the blurry figure she could see behind the pane of glass in the middle of the front door.

"Hi Ellie sorry to just stop by like this, can I come in?" Ellie freezes as she sees Maria standing before her with a smile that didn't often grace her face.

"Oh yeah, hi Maria, what's up?" She asks as she steps aside to let Maria in.

"I wanted to come talk to you both in person because there has been an opening in one of the flats so if either of you want to move out you can."

"Oh er well she's not here right now but I'll definitely tell her but me, I'm good here, I've unpacked now and I'm settled so I'm happy to stay."

"Are you two actually getting along?"

"Well we haven't killed each other yet."

"Well that's good to hear, anyway I've got to run, let her know to come talk to me if she wants to move okay?" She smiles and opens the door to let herself out again as Ellie waves her off. As soon as the door shuts she breathes a sigh of relief that you weren't here when Maria came over, she'd feel utterly defeated if after everything you moved out and away from her just like that but then she started to wonder if you would want to move out and if she should tell you and if you'd be mad if she doesn't tell you and you find out. The thoughts were overcrowding her head as she stands frozen in the entryway until the click of the doorknob tells her you're home and she immediately lurches at the door to swing it open for you.

"Oh! Jesus Ellie you scared me."

"Sorry I heard you at the door and I thought you might want help with the bags." Her voice breaks and you raise an eyebrow at her suspiciously.

"Oh because I'm so weak I can't bring everything through to the kitchen?" Your face is sour but your voice is playful.

"You are so annoying, I said if you want help not need it." She rolls her eyes and fights the smile threatening her lips.

"Oh well in that case, that would be lovely." You smile and place the bags in her arms before strutting off to the kitchen leaving her with all the food.

"Hey I said I would help not do it all for you!" She yells.

"Can't hear you!" You drag out the last word in a sing-song fashion that prompts her to roll her eyes and just accept defeat as she starts carrying the bags to where you were in the kitchen before placing them down on the small table where you both have breakfast most mornings.

"On my way back I saw Maria round here walking back to town. Did she come here?"

"Errrr" Ellie froze, she didn't know if she should lie and deal with the consequences later down the line or tell the truth and hope you feel the same way as her but there was not enough time as the look of confusion on your face grew so her instincts kicked in. "No, no she didn't. Must've been going to one of the others."

"Hm okay, she actually smiled at me when she walked past, how crazy is that? She hasn't smiled at me since me and you have been getting sent to her for fighting every other day."

"Ha yeah that is so weird." Ellie doesn't sound convinced, she knows that, but her heart is beating way too fast for her to care, she should've told the truth but she's dug the hole now, no going back.

"Oh um by the way I have a confession, I don't think you're gonna be happy about it."

"Oh great."

"Joel invited us both to dinner tonight at his and I kinda said yes." You smile sheepishly at her as her face drops.

"Seriously? Oh my god I'm gonna die."

"Oh come on, it won't be that bad."

"Whyyyyy did you say yes? You should've said we were busy."

"You know I can't lie to that man's face and besides this is as much on you as it is me."

"Excuse you?"

"If you hadn't been saying all those lovely things about me at dinner last time he wouldn't have approached me and invited me sooo..." You trail off and end your sentence with a sickly sweet grin as her face blushes and her jaw clenches.

"I am going to kill him." You giggle as she rolls her eyes and storms off before comically running back into the room. "What time did he say?"

"Six."

"Oh my god he is so old." You laugh as she storms off again like a child before unpacking everything you had got this morning.

"Hello! Come on in, you're actually on time, I assume this was down to you and not Ellie?" He eyes you and then Ellie as you giggle at her rolling her eyes for about the 50th time today already. She had been grumpy and whiny all day about going to Joel's and it only made you laugh more each time. He beckons you into the small cabin that he had moved into, it was similar to yours and Ellie's and not too far either but his had only one bedroom and no second floor, he moved when all the housing got changed because of the influx of new arrivals as his old house had 3 bedrooms and Ellie's garage that just weren't being used anymore. You think back to the times you had spent in Ellie's garage with her and it makes you sad at the thought of someone else living there and making it their own, you feel selfish for it but you don't care, you had the best memories from when you and her would hang out together there and now its not yours or even hers anymore.

“Ellie you know where everything is, get our guest a drink and you,” he looks at you with a cheeky smile knowing how it’s going to annoy Ellie. “come sit down and relax.” Another huff and eye roll from Ellie before she walks off to the kitchen.

You and Joel had been catching up and exchanging small talk while Ellie grabbed some drinks until she joined you.

“So how’s it been living together? I see Maria’s plan worked.” It was your turn to roll your eyes now.

“It’s been fine.” “Good.” You both blurt out at the same time before exchanging an annoyed look with each other.

“Oh come on, can you really not admit that you’re friends again?” There’s that word again that made Ellie’s heart clench a little, friends, it’s true but she still doesn’t like it.

“Not if it means proving Maria right.” Ellie crosses her arms and leans back into the squishy sofa you were both seated on.

“Yeah I just can’t do that.” You agree.

“You two are way too stubborn for your own good.”

“Look who’s talking.” Ellie snipes and he laughs before slapping his knees that popped as he stood before ushering you to the table.

“You sound like you’re getting old.” Ellie laughs.

“Shut up and sit down.” You reply.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” She whisper-yells at you.

“Since when?” You smirk at the displeased look on her face before sitting down as Joel brings out the pasta bake he had made and sets it down in front of you both.

“Joel this looks amazing, thank you so much!” Your mouth is actually watering at the sight of it and Ellie can’t help but smile at the childish excitement of your expression.

Dinner was perfect, the pasta bake was one of the nicest things you had eaten in awhile, neither you or Ellie being the best cooks, and Joel’s company was so refreshing you had almost forgotten about your previous dinner experience.

“I saw you chatting with your parents at the tipsy bison the other day. Glad to see they’ve come to their senses.” You don’t miss the glare Ellie shoots at him or the small thump under the table accompanied with a hiss from Joel. You pretend to not notice the obvious kick Ellie had delivered his way as you chuckle a little.

“Not quite actually, it’s okay though really. I’m happy with how things are at the moment.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes and Ellie’s face tells of the pity she feels towards you. You mouth ‘I’m fine’ to her and look back at Joel. “Really, it’s no biggie.”

“Oh well I’ll sorry anyway.”

“Thanks.” You recover from the awkward moment well and the rest of dinner went smoothly.

You’re standing in the kitchen helping Ellie tidy up, you had both already done the washing and drying so now you were just putting everything away. You were standing at the cupboard where the plates go and as you bent down to put them away Ellie reached over you to put a glass away above your head. You gasp as you feel Ellie’s hips pressing into you from behind and immediately snap up turning to face her. “Sorry.” You mutter.

She smirks and cocks her head as she grabs onto the counter on either side of you, boxing you in. “For what?” She leans in a little and you can smell the fresh scent of her body wash that always made her smell of washing that had been dried outside. You savour it before meeting her eyes that had a mischievous sparkle.

You can’t find any words, you weren’t really sure there was an answer to her question and even if there was, you certainly wouldn’t find the words now when her nose is brushing against yours as she ghosts her lips over yours that were taking quick, shuddering breaths. You search Ellie’s eyes and despite the proximity you can still see the uncertainty and insecurity that cast a film over them and knitted her eyebrows together. All Ellie wanted to do was lean in and close the gap but something was holding her back, maybe it was the shock on your face, or the possibility you might push her away, maybe she just wants you to be the one to make the first move, maybe she needs it after everything that’s happened between the both of you.

“All done tidying up?” Joel’s voice sounds as he walks into the kitchen causing you and Ellie to both jump away from each other like you were magnets that repelled when they got too close. None of you make eye contact, all standing staring at the floor in silence until Ellie clears her throat.

“Thanks for having us old man but we should probably get back. I’m okay but she needs her beauty sleep... bad.” She points a finger in your direction but shields it from you with her other hand as if you wouldn’t see.

“Well alright.” He leads you both to the door and as Ellie walks down the steps of the porch he turns to you in a hushed manner. “I know you’ve had it rough with your parents but I promise you’ll always be accepted here.” Tears brim in your eyes and all you can think to do is hug him, you squeezed him until his back clicked which prompted you to let him go with a small apology as he laughed.

The next morning you’re standing making a drink in the kitchen when Ellie walks in with her backpack and beat-up converse on.

“Hey I’ve gotta go on patrol but I should be back by five-ish I think. Wanna watch a movie when I’m back?”

“Yeah sounds good.” You smile and she returns it before moving to walk out the door. “Be safe!” You call out and she smiles at the sentiment although you can’t see.

“Always.” You roll your eyes knowing that is a complete lie but go back to your drink as you hear the door slam shut as it always does when Ellie is entering or exiting, she had always been so heavy-handed and it’s clear that’s still the case.

You were sitting trying to read your book but it had only been an hour since Ellie left and it was still 6 hours until she came back, and all you could think about was if she was okay and safe. The thoughts spiralled until your skin was crawling and a lump in your throat had appeared. You knew Ellie was good on patrol, she was one of the best, she hadn’t grown up in Jackson so she had the knowledge of the dangers of the real world far more engrained in her than most, yet you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, it was a feeling deep in your gut that made you feel nauseous and you just couldn’t shake it no matter how much you tried to rationalise with yourself.

The hours went by painfully slowly but five pm had finally rolled around and you were sitting expectantly on the sofa waiting for the signature slamming of the door against the wall to tell you she’s home. But it never came. Five turned to five-thirty and then to six but there was no sign of Ellie. You had begun pacing well over fifteen minutes ago and you were starting to become dizzy enough that you either needed to sit down or walk in a straight line. So you walked in a straight line all the way to the gates of Jackson where you’re met with a commotion you hadn’t ever seen before, you immediately run to Jesse who has a forlorn look on his face.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t they back yet?”

“We don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW? ISN’T THAT YOUR JOB?” He looks shocked at your sudden outburst before dragging you away from the crowd whose eyes had now all fallen on you.

“I’m sorry you’re worried but we all are and freaking out doesn’t help anyone. I’m sure they’re fine, they might’ve just got held up okay.” As he speaks you hear yelling from the men standing at the guard posts on top of the wall and you breathe a sigh of relief when the gates begin to open. The first thing you do is run straight to the front of the crowd pushing and shoving past people to get there to try and get a glimpse of her auburn hair.

Your heartbeat quickens until you see the flash of red you had been waiting for but as she gets closer you see her hunched over form and the array of bruises and cuts littering the skin you could see. Two men walk over to her and Shimmer and help her down before holding her up as she hobbles away from the horse and directly at you. Her eyes meet yours and the relief turns to anger, anger at the anxiety she had caused you. You knew your reaction wasn’t fair on her but you couldn’t stop yourself regardless. You rush towards her and she smiles.

“Where the fuck were you?” You shove at her and she winces as she stumbles a little. “What the fuck happened?” You slap and hit at her chest, releasing the frustration and fear that had been pent up inside you and she let you, until she started to see black spots in her vision from your assault on her already wounded body which was when she caught both your hands in a tight grip and held them to her chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, the horde came out of nowhere. We lost three and the rest of us barely made it out.” Her words hit you hard as you shrunk back from her realising the irrationality of your outburst. “It’s okay, I’m fine but can we please go home?” She pleads and you immediately replace the guy that was holding her up with her arm over his shoulder as you start to walk her back home. Every hiss and wince, every stumble, every shaky breath made you feel worse for your initial reaction but it drove you to get her home as quick as possible so she could rest.

As Maria and Jesse watch you both walk away arm in arm they exchange a look of confusion.

"What was that about?" Jesse questioned Maria.

"No idea, but that was weird." Maria replied.

They watched you both until you were out of sight as Maria smiled to herself knowing exactly what was going on and knowing she was right to move you in together.

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Office Space 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life. 

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

When Fowler’s door opens again, you’re quick to sweep back in from the copy room. You do your best to smile as Pine emerges and nods in your direction. A short, broader shadow looms behind him. You’re overly aware of your boss’ observation. 

“Wonderful to meet you, Elfie,” Jonathan nears your desk and offers his hand, “I look forward to working more with you and Nick.” 

“Sir,” you shake his hand across the desk, “nice to meet you too.” 

He squeezes before he lets go. He smells as fresh as the very tree he’s named for. His cologne wafts over as he strides to the door, bidding Fowler a final farewell just before he goes. You quick divert your attention back to your desk. 

“Add tea to the supplies order,” Fowler leans in his doorway, arms crossed. 

“Yes, sir,” you make a note on the pad, “um, is there a specific type?” 

“Tea. I don’t know,” he snips. “Is that catalogue ready?” 

“Sir, I’m still working--” 

“Work faster,” he interjects and spins away. His door snaps behind him and you wince.  

You go back to the copy room and resume your task of scanning the sheets and sorting them into new labeled folders. The work is peaceful. You enjoy the solitary and the simplicity. Yet, you’re uneasy after the change and routine of hosting Mr. Pine. 

Tonight, should be a good cure. Drinks with the girls. Finally. Everyone’s been so busy that you haven’t had a chance to pop down to Retro’s and catch up. You’re already planning out something cute to wear. You have a leather skirt you’d never dare wear to work but you’ve been dying to put on. The deep plum will go nicely with a black top. 

“Lock up,” Fowler’s voice startles you as he calls in from the other room. 

You go to the door and watch him march past your desk; jacket on, briefcase in hand. He doesn’t spare you a look. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You can leave once you finish that folder. You’ll be making up the hours tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow? Saturday?” 

“Weekends are in your contract,” he sighs as he pulls open the door, “Elf, you know how I feel about questions.” 

“Yes, sir,” you agree begrudgingly. 

“Noon. Short day,” he states before he lets himself out, the door closing sharply behind him. 

Great. You finally get your night out and you have to worry about work the next day. You guess you can stick to one margherita. It better be a good one. 

You return to your work. It’s not an early day for you. It takes you well past six o’clock to get it all scanned and filed away. You still haven’t sorted through the digital variants. You huff and check your phone. You’re going to be late. You won’t have time to go home and change into your cute leather skirt. 

You lock up and hurry away from the grim office. You catch the streetcar to downtown and wind your way around to Retro’s. The hangover of your long day falls away as you see the familiar neon moniker. Yesssss. You are ready. 

There are a few girls already there. Izzie won’t be there. Her work keeps her in places unknown. It sounds exciting but scary. You prefer the predictability of Fowler and his moods. There's never a sunny day with him but it’s better than trying to figure him out. 

Rosie and Dizzie are at one of the round tables and as you approach, Missie nears from the other side. She’s hard to miss in her bright patterns. She smiles at you as she hums and sits down. 

“I feel better,” Missie chimes, “been holding my bladder since work.” 

“The others on their way?” You ask as you sit on the cushioned bench next to Dizzie. 

“Georgie’s running behind, she just messaged,” Rosie explains, “and Billie’s been quiet today.” 

“Hm, right, I guess we should wait for everyone to be here.” 

“Oo, Izzie just sent something,” Dizzie perks up and nearly drops her phone as she tries to turn up the volume. 

You look over her shoulder and Rosie leans in from the other side and Missie raises herself as Dizzie tilts the screen flatter for her to see. Izzie is hollering as a parachute billows behind her and wind thrashes at her face. Her screams are a mixture of adrenaline, fear, and maddened glee. The video ends and you all look at each other. The oldest of your crew is definitely the bravest. She used to work with Billie but quit to take on military work. It’s quite the change. 

“Wow,” Rosie’s brows pop up, “I could never.” 

“I don’t know, sometimes I feel like throwing myself out of a window,” Billie startles you as she sits beside Missie, “especially after today.” 

“Bill,” you greet brightly. You and her are closest among the group. Just like Rosie and Dizzie stick to each other. “You look...” 

“Tired? Fed up? Done?” She snarls, “I need tequila.” 

“Oof,” Rosie puffs out. 

“Waiting on Georgie,” Missies says. 

“Really? She’s always first here?” Billie squints, “makes the rest of us look bad.” 

“Must’ve been a long day at work,” you shrug. “Can’t say mine was much different and I get to go in again tomorrow.” 

“I’m not getting out of bed if my apartment catches fire,” Billie growls. 

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Missie pouts, “I think Mr. Hansen’s tired of my so no overtime this weekend.” 

“Lucky,” Georgie plops down on Billie’s other side, a flustered mess of glasses and cardigan.  

“What’s the deal?” Billie asks. 

“I was packing,” Georgie takes her glasses off to wipe with her sleeve. 

“Packing?” Dizzie wonders. 

“I gotta go to Barbados tomorrow.” 

“Barbados?” You bluster. 

“Mr. Stark... I don’t know,” she murmurs and shakes her head. 

“Well, George, looks like you and me have to be the responsible ones tonight,” you resign. 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

For garten of banban do a fic of the reader actually tackling tying up and gagging bittergiggle up before he can tell any jokes. She tied him up with shoelaces and used a bandana around her neck to gag him

Omg wasn't expecting a GOBB request so soon, but yay!!

Also yes this is happening ya'll I'm getting invested in this silly game again.

............

"Your Majesty, tell me..what did the-?"

"NO!!"

Before Bittergiggle could even react, you lunged and tackled him to the floor of the throne room, much to the shock of Sheriff Toadster and Queen Bouncelia. You were quick to yank off the bandana around your neck, putting it around his mouth as a makeshift gag.

He squirmed and thrashed through muffled yells, furious that you stopped him from telling his joke.

Yet somehow you were able to easily overpower him. He didn't expect any human to be this strong.

"Sheriff! I need your assistance!"

"Huh? Oh!" The toad snapped out of his stupor as you tossed several shoelaces you've gathered around the kindergarten in his direction, and he immediately knew what to do with them.

In the end, you two successfully tied up Bittergiggle in front of the still-bewildered kangaroo.

"What on earth...?"

"My apologies, your Majesty..but it's for his own good." Despite being out of breath, you stood up and smiled, patting the jester's smooth side of his head even as he kept struggling. "He was about to tell you the worst joke in existence. Figured I'd spare your gracious ears from hearing it."

"Oh? Well..I suppose you have my thanks, dear." She bowed her head in gratitude, before sitting back on her throne.

"Gotta say, I'm impressed.." Sheriff Toadster chuckled. "I haven't been able to round up this crook in ages...and yet this fine lady here did it in the blink an eye! I oughta give ya my thanks, too. You saved us all from certain doom."

"Yeah, well...I've been through enough crap already." You sighed. "And even after all this time...I'm still not any closer to finding my kid. I came here for answers and instead I got this dunce trying to kill me and keep me locked up!"

Nudging Bittergiggle with your foot, you watched as he fell onto his side, yelling dramatically despite the gag making his words unintelligible still.

All you did was scowl down at him. "Shut up. I didn't push you that hard."

"Your determination and grit is something I can admire," Queen Bouncelia remarked. "Although I am concerned for your safety, it's not my place to tell you to give up and go home. You didn't come this far to be told that."

"I appreciate your concern, my queen...but I know my kid best. They wouldn't just disappear in a place like this."

"Very well. Unfortunately, I do not have the answers you seek. I'm afraid they lie even-"

"Deeper in the facility?"

"........"

"I figured...guess the only way to go is down at this point." You then turned to Sheriff Toadster, putting your hands on your hips. "I'll help you lock the Jester up, but only if you take me to the next elevator. I'd feel much safer with you than Banban."

"As much as I appreciate that...you ain't one to order me around, missy." While physically impossible for him to frown, his eyes narrowed with a look of disdain. "Don't think you're let off the hook just yet. I'll lock you both right back up. Him for nearly killin' us all...and you for disrespectin' a-"

"You will do no such thing to her." Queen Bouncelia's voice boomed, causing him to tense and look back at her, suddenly trembling under her gaze. "They may not be connected by genome, but I see much of Opila Bird's fire in her eyes. The same instinct to protect her youth from harm. It is unwise to test a mother's love for her child."

"A-Ah...but of course, your Majesty. I shall not question the human any further." He bowed his head in obedience before turning back to you. "Alrighty. Let's go lock this bandit up only and I'll show ya to the elevator down. We may need to recruit an ally on our journey, but worry not...it shall not the that devilish fiend who claims to be your friend."

"Thank you." Nodding, you glanced at the queen with a heartfelt smile, relieved she still retained her kindness and empathy even after being abandoned.

For once there was a mascot who wasn't trying to kill or manipulate you.

So you and Sheriff Toaster eventually departed from the kingdom, dragging a kicking and screaming Bittergiggle behind you.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(The final part of November Paramedic; part 6 is here and the AO3 version is here. If you want to avoid the smut, you should read on AO3.)

Eddie's apartment is full of song, but for probably the first time since he moved in it's not metal.

Max sings This Old Heart of Mine with gusto, her attention glued to her fingers as they move on the fretboard. She's in an awkward position, sitting slumped and with her leg propped onto five pillows on the coffee table. An elastic bandage is wrapped around her knee. Steve was right – she did exacerbate the injury by walking on it, and had to spend the next three days on bed rest. The knee already looks a lot better, less swollen but likely still tender, not that she's uttered a peep about it. Today is the first day she's been up and running, though not without support. Since crutches is the uncoolest kind of mobility aid Eddie took it upon himself to dig out a cane from his closet for her to use. When he asked if she liked it, she said it was great for thwacking people; he assumes that means 'yes'.

On the other end of the couch, Gareth taps along on a handheld drum. Max felt like she kept losing the rhythm and wanted extra help. Eddie is certain she was doing fine, but hey, if it calms her last-minute nerves, so be it.

The song ends, the last note lingering in the otherwise silent room. Max heaves a sigh, guitar slipping from her grip as she relaxes into her seat.

Gareth is beaming with pride; Eddie feels it too. Approximately two months of practice led to this. Just two months! He knows that she's been diligent, but still – it's impressive. Damn, he has the raddest little neighbor.

He rests his elbows on the couch's backrest and pokes Max's shoulder.

"It sounds great. You'll do amazing tomorrow."

She nods, lips tugging into a sweetly pleased smile.

"I'm ready," she says. Craning her neck, she locks their gazes. "Are you performing too?"

"No. The stage will be only yours. Although," he pats the acoustic in her lap, "I will of course be there and make sure you treat DragonSlayer with the respect she deserves."

Max's eyes crinkle with mischief.

"She won't react to you ever again after I show her what real talented fingers can do," she says, wiggling said fingers at him, and giggles when he gasps like a Victorian lady at the implied vulgarity. Turning to Gareth, she asks, "Are you gonna be there?"

Gareth's expression crumbles.

"I can't. Something is going around at work and we're short-staffed, so I'm no longer free," he says miserably. "I'll come next time. You'll do it again, right?"

She smiles wryly. "Unless I crash and burn."

Eddie pushes off the backrest and rounds the couch. He hates to spoil the mood any more, but…

"Before I forget," he says, piercing them with an unamused look. He also tries standing with his hands on his hips, but there's no way he can convey the same bitchy determination Steve can with the stance, so it feels hollow. He crosses his arms instead. "You two need to stop conspiring against me."

They blink at him, baffled.

"What?" Gareth says.

"You've been trying to set me up with Steve!"

"Well, yeah," Max says. "But not with him."

"Yeah, not with her."

It's Eddie's turn to blink. Releasing a breath that shudders with emotion, he closes his eyes and rubs circles on his temples.

"You're telling me you've worked independently of each other this entire time?"

"Seems like it!" Gareth laughs, though the mirth dims quickly. "But… who's done the best job?"

They whip toward each other. Their postures are tense, bow strings drawn and ready to shoot. Flames of competitiveness engulf them. Weirdos.

Gareth points at Max. "I made them go on a date!"

"I made them go on two dates!"

"I'm the reason they got to know each other!"

Max scoffs. "Oh, please. As if I wouldn't have eventually introduced them."

"Would you?"

"Sure. They're both older brother figures I can't get rid of who're hopelessly single and into men." She shrugs. "Why not?"

Eddie gasps again, this time more like a grandmother who's been presented with an incomprehensibly scribbled drawing from her toddler grandchild.

"I'm an older brother figure to you?" he asks, bending down to Max's level, his tone patronizingly light.

She sends him a withering look and reaches for her cane.

"Well, they almost kissed on my date!" Gareth shouts.

Max’s jaw drops. She loses her grip on the cane but gains a terrifying intensity in her eyes. A chill runs through Eddie, the tips of his appendages tingling. This is the closest he's ever gotten to catching frostbite.

"What," she says flatly.

Eddie scrambles away, metaphorically and physically, in case she decides to smack him anyway.

"N-no, we- It wasn't- Our faces just- But we didn't!"

"But it was so close," Gareth says, fingers pinched and with maybe the fraction of a fraction of an inch of air between his thumb and forefinger.

"Huh." Max continues staring Eddie down like she's plotting his murder for keeping secrets. He's about to point out that he can't be set up with Steve if he's dead when she swivels back to Gareth. "I'm making them go on a third date."

"Wait, what? When?"

"Open mic tomorrow night," she says, like he's an idiot. The scrunch of Gareth's mouth indicates that he agrees with her.

"Shit." He pats himself down, in search of something. "What time is it? Where's my phone? If I text him now I can schedule a spontaneous hang-out for tonight!"

Eddie's eyes double in size.

"Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaims, hands raised and palms facing out, as if he's warding off wild animals. "You have Steve's number?"

Gareth pauses his search to tilt his head at Eddie, like he's a puzzle he can't figure out how to solve. Or maybe just like he's a huge fucking moron. "You're telling me you don't?"

Eddie clamps his lips together; fights the urge to fidget beneath their judgmental stares. Max slowly shakes her head.

"Dumbass. You need us."

Eddie makes an ugly face at her. "Shut up."

She tuts. "So aggressive. That's a symptom of sexual frustration."

"I'm not-"

"Remember: thin walls."

"They're not that thin! I never hear you!"

"Because I know how to keep my business to myself. And you've heard me practicing the guitar, haven't you?"

He has. Shit. He buries his face in his hands.

"Shit."

"That's right," Max says snippily. "I hear everything. Every. Thing."

"Oh," Gareth says. He squeezes her good knee, oozing empathy from every pore. "Oh, you poor, innocent girl."

She soaks it up, lamenting, "It's been awful."

"Yeah… But, um. You realize that if they get together, then… "

Gareth trails off as Max nods miserably.

"Yeah, I know. I'm resigned to my fate."

Eddie pushes the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until he sees stars. He needs friends who are less invested in his sex life.

Max leaves soon after, cane clacking louder than necessary against the floor. (Eddie suspects he might not get it back once she's healed.) She stops in the doorway on her way out. While smiling in a manner that makes him break out in a cold sweat, she tells him not to take his car to the open mic and to dress nicely.

And then she's gone.

Gareth harrumphs.

"She's planning something for tomorrow. Damnit. This is unfair, you know. She's known him longer; she can talk to and influence both of you in ways I can't. I'm at a disadvantage here."

Eddie, without replying, twirls on the spot and faceplants on the couch.

Gareth groans above him. "Oh, what is it now?"

'Same as always' is what he'd like to say. Instead, he saves his breath by rolling onto his side, curling up his legs, and giving Gareth a look. It must convey how he feels, because Gareth's irritation melts off, replaced with something gentle. He squats by the couch and brushes a stray lock from Eddie's forehead. A bit like how Uncle Wayne would when he still lived at home.

"Eddie, man, you don't have to be nervous. He likes you."

"That makes it worse," Eddie says, voice raspy and thick, and fuck, he's not going to cry over this, is he? Bawl when a boy doesn't like him is normal, not when they do. "He likes me now, but if he finds out I'm his obsessive quasi-stalker? Then what?"

"I think you're blowing this out of proportion," Gareth says. He starts scratching at Eddie's scalp; it's good enough to dry his tears and slow his pulse. "Max knows about the calendar and she doesn't mind!"

Eddie snorts derisively. "Because she's nineteen and doesn't yet understand how some actions can have terrible consequences."

Gareth frowns at that with obvious disapproval. "She's still an adult. For that matter, so are you and Steve? Just talk to him about it." He sighs. "Look, I don't think he'll mind so much that he'll never get over it. And if he does… it sucks. But you'll live. There are dozens of hot guys out there, waiting to be swept off their hot… feet." He pauses to snicker.

"You're so bad at this," Eddie whispers; Gareth snickers even more.

"You know why I've stuck by you all these years?" he asks once done laughing. "Why I even started hanging with you in the first place?"

"You had stoner aspirations and I zero qualms selling weed to fourteen-year-olds?"

Gareth flicks his forehead. "Because you're cool. And likable. And you make people happy when you're around. So go out there tomorrow night and sweep those hot feet!"

Eddie snorts. Then again. His diaphragm tightens, air forces past his pursed lips, and then his body shakes with laughter. Gareth is grinning proudly, of himself and possibly Eddie as well. He snakes his arms around Eddie's waist and pulls him so close the mirth rattles through them both. It takes an eon, but at last, the laughter abates. Eddie’s lungs are sore and his eyes are wet with happiness, and he's still got an armful of best friend clinging to him.

"I'll call you the day after tomorrow." Gareth punctuates the promise with a squeeze, before pulling back. "Lunchtime. And I'll expect progress. Okay?"

Eddie nods. "Okay."

Gareth beams, ruffles Eddie's hair, and then he too leaves the apartment.

Eddie turns onto his back and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t sigh as much as make noise while gravity pushes the air from his lungs. He could fall asleep here, on this uncomfortable couch. Turns out guitar lessons, worrying, and funny friends deplete your energy.

Before his eyelids slide shut for good he drags himself up to brush his teeth and go lie in his real bed. He needs a proper night's sleep if he'll survive tomorrow.

He wakes up on Saturday having dreamt of Steve. He eats his breakfast while thinking of Steve. He replaces brake pads, rotates tires, and talks to clients while thinking of Steve. He returns home and showers off the sweat and oil while really thinking of Steve.

He also spends a lot longer than usual contemplating how thoroughly he ought to wash himself. Fate dictates that if he cleans as if he might get laid, he won't be. However, if he's perfunctory about it, he's more likely to score. Ultimately, he does an extensive scrub. Rather be presumptuous and get nothing than be unhygienic and get lucky.

Then comes the worst part: picking an outfit.

Max told him to wear something 'nice'. Jesus. 'Wear something nice', what did that even mean? Dress less like himself? Dress more like himself? Something skimpy? Or snug? He has those leather pants that make his legs look divine, but they might be too much. He doesn't want to look like he's trying as hard as he is. Also, he's going to an open mic in a coffee shop at seven in the evening. There will be high schoolers, retirees, families with children, and others present who do not need to see his dick imprint. 'No' to the leather pants.

But maybe…

The hangers clatter and screech as he pushes them aside. Sticking his arm far into his wardrobe, he then pulls it out grasping his other battle vest.

The one in leather.

He hasn't worn it out yet. It's only recently finished, and almost ended up looking too nice, too pristine. It's not really him, not the way his frayed and trusty denim vest is. But it's still a thing of beauty: band logos immaculately painted onto the leather and spikes adorning the shoulders, collar, and lapels.

It's fucking badass. Him, though a little nicer.

He pairs the vest with his tightest Metallica tee – the one with the sleeves shorn off and the neckline cut into a v deep enough to show both tattoos – and distressed, black jeans, rips over the knees and a big hole along the inside of one thigh. The retirees will just have to fucking deal with some exposed skin.

A crowd is thronging inside Connie's when he arrives ten minutes to seven. They've built a makeshift stage on one short side, crammed between the cream'n'sugar station and a huge monstera. Microphones, stools, and a keyboard stand upon it. All the café's tables are pushed to one half of the floor, letting people mill between them and the stage. None of them seem to be his people, though.

Eddie weaves through the crowd, scanning it for short redheads and tall hunks. Nothing… nothing… not-

"Eddie!"

He turns, coming nose to nose, like tip to tip, with Steve, who's… wow. Call him the moon and Eddie a wolf, because he's about to start howling.

He's wearing pants, not jeans, that hug his hips without being obscenely tight and a fitted, teal dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled up and the top two buttons left undone, allowing yet another tantalizing peek of the sculpted pecs beneath. Nice but not too formal, if you ask anyone. Positively edible, if you ask Eddie. His mouth is actually watering a little, which is a sign he's been staring for too long.

Lifting his gaze from Steve's chest to his face, he realizes he could've taken his time because Steve is also staring. At Eddie.

Steve's breaths are slow but deep as he bites his lip hard enough to dent it, tongue flicking out to soothe the mark. Eyes glowing like embers, he trails them over Eddie's body, threatening to set him ablaze.

Eddie's jeans are too fucking tight for this.

"Starting to worry you wouldn't make it," Steve says, low and gravelly.

"No, I just, uh, running a bit late…" Eddie says, faltering as Steve drags a finger along the lapel of his vest.

"Haven't seen you in this before," he murmurs.

"It's new. First time wearing it."

"Where'd you get it?"

"I made it."

Steve's brows jump. "You made it?"

"Make like one-third of my clothes and heavily alter the rest. Metal's all about DIY, baby."

Chuckling, Steve grabs both ends of the attached leather belt and opens the vest for a better look at the Metallica shirt underneath. He doesn't ask any questions about the band, thank God, because Eddie's brain is too liquid to answer. If Steve opened the vest a bit more he'd be undressing him. Or if he tugged at the belt Eddie would stumble into him, he's so off balance.

But Steve does neither; he closes it and lets go.

"I left the others at the table. C'mon."

The rest of them also look nice, Robin in suspenders again, this time paired with shorts, and Lucas in a black sweater-red jacket combo that reminds Eddie of all the cool boys he pined over in high school. Both of them gush compliments at the sight of his vest; their childlike enthusiasm is a pretty effective boner killer, phew. The only one not mentioning his outfit is Max – she's silently staring at the tablecloth, hands in her lap and head bowed.

"Hey, Red," he says.

She looks at him, eyes like clear ponds and her freckles stark against her white skin. It might be his personal bias, but she's the prettiest of them all tonight. Canary yellow t-shirt dress and oversized jean jacket, one shoulder artfully slipping down. Loose, wavy locks cascading past her shoulders. Barely chipped nail polish and glossy lips, but no other makeup. She's radiant.

And she's shaking.

He slides into the chair next to her.

"You're still ready?"

Max nods.

"You know, I still feel like puking every time I perform."

"Yeah?" she breathes.

"Yup." His fingers encircle her wrist, squeezing. "You're gonna crush it."

She smiles tightly.

"Do you want us to film it?" Robin asks. "To show your mom?"

Max's first reaction is a frown, which evaporates at the mention of her mom; then she nods so hard she's indistinguishable from a bobblehead.

"Yes!" she says, and that's the last bit of conversation between them, for the next second the lights dim and Connie ascends the stage to announce the start of the open mic.

It's three hours long, with fifteen performers given ten minutes each, plus a few for getting on and off the stage. Max is number eight, which means she'll have about an hour and a half to sweat before it's her turn. And maybe she does manage to sweat it out and dry off, because when her time comes she strides up with the poise of a seasoned veteran.

A café worker helps her up and adjusts the mic for her. She hooks the cane on the stool and situates the guitar across her lap – one of the younger audience members shouts "Dragon!" to everyone's amusement. Once the laughter stops, she puts her mouth to the mic and emits one stuttering breath.

"Hi," she says. "My name is Max, and I'll be playing two covers and one song I wrote." She giggles as some onlookers whoop their approval. "All three are dedicated to one person here tonight. He knows who he is."

Then she plays. It's the best fucking thing Eddie has heard, not just tonight, but ever.

Her voice is strong, her rhythm is perfect. When she pauses for breath her expression defaults into a blinding smile. She breezes through The Isley Brothers and Stevie Wonder as the crowd claps along. Eddie manages to tear his eyes from her only once, to view the others' reactions. Robin tries to hold her phone steady as she sways in her seat, Steve is misty-eyed like a proud dad, and Lucas…

Lucas sits slumped forward, chin pillowed on his hands, pupils huge and dark. Lovestruck.

After You Are the Sunshine of My Life she takes a breather, sipping from her bottle of water. There's a shift in the air; the audience settles, mood sobering. When she resumes playing, the notes are softer, slower. A melancholy made bearable by her warm tones.

Max's song is about a happy then and an uncertain now. It's a song about guilt and regret. About apologizing and vowing to improve. About past loss and about future hope.

Above all, it's a promise.

It strikes like a blade through Eddie's chest. He shouldn't be hearing this. None but three, or maybe just one, of the people in here should. It's not for their ears, because they can't ever truly understand. It's too personal. Yet, she plays it for them. Tearing open her flesh and breaking her bones to show them. Listening to this is a privilege.

Her last note is a tattoo – covering up those before her, impossible to erase by those following her.

Max smiles and bows, again like a pro. As the café erupts into deafening applause, Lucas shoots from his seat. Appearing by the stage, he extends his arms to her. She hooks hers around his neck and lets him lift her down. Smiling at each other, they rest their foreheads together like they're the only ones in the room. Shit, perhaps they are.

They walk back to the table with Max's cane underneath Lucas' arm, she using him as her crutch. Arriving, the first thing she does is ask Eddie:

"How was it?"

He schools his expression.

"Red. I'm ditching my band. From now on, you and me – duo."

She boxes him in the shoulder, the shine of her smile rivaling a star.

The rest of the open mic is nice, even though the highlight is over. Still, live music is live music (and leaving in the middle would've been unacceptably rude), so they stay until Connie closes the night by thanking everyone present and encouraging them to come back next time.

Outside, they stretch their unused limbs until their joints pop, then walk a few blocks to Steve's car. It makes sense for Eddie not to have taken his van, he tells himself. The BMW is big enough for all five to sit comfortably, and he'll save on gas. Still, there's a disappointment pooling in his gut, because this means Steve will drop off Lucas, Max, and Eddie at their places before driving himself and Robin home. It's not a bad thing! He has yet to figure out how to breach the subject of the calendar. But… getting some more time to talk to Steve without amateur musicians drowning out the words would've been nice.

(This is what he gets for being so thorough in the shower.)

"Well," Robin says, hands clasped behind her head, as the BMW beeps unlocked. "I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going?" Eddie asks.

"Steve and I live just past that building," she says, pointing. "So, I'll walk while he drives you guys."

Oh.

The disappointed pool freezes. Eddie swallows thickly. This is fine. It means nothing. Steve will drop everyone off and then go home, as planned.

He gets shotgun. Really, it's given to him because Max and Lucas commandeer the backseat, snuggling up on one-and-a-half seats while DragonSlayer claims the third. Eddie doesn't mind in the slightest – not when the kids are so close they're basically on top of each other, slotting together like a pair of puzzle pieces. Watching them separate when they arrive at the apartment complex will be devastating.

Except.

They do not go to the apartment complex. They go to a neighborhood Eddie's never been to before, parking outside a two-story house. So, they're dropping off Lucas first, then Eddie and Max, and then Steve will go home. Just as planned.

"I'm staying with Lucas tonight," Max says. "The DragonSlayer is all yours, Eddie."

She slams the door shut, the two of them walking up the shingled pathway hand in hand.

Steve hums pleasantly. "I think that did the trick – they're an item again. About time, don't you think?"

"Uh, yeah, yep, sure took them long enough, yeppers," Eddie's mouth says with negative input or permission from his brain.

Steve grins before pulling out, shirt straining against his arm as he turns the wheel and holy shit, Eddie is alone in a car with Steve!

Is everyone conspiring against him?!

Steve makes small talk during the drive, recounting which songs he recognized, sharing his favorite performances, asking for Eddie's more knowledgeable opinion. Eddie responds to the best of his abilities, which is to say 'poorly'.

When they stop by a red light and Steve absent-mindedly undoes the third button on his shirt, Eddie’s mouth dries up and he stops responding altogether, fearing his tongue will crumble to dust if he tries. If Steve is put out by Eddie's conversational skills reducing to various affirmative noises, he doesn't show it.

Finally reaching the complex, Eddie resolves to at least croak a 'thank you for the ride'. But when he turns to do just that, Steve is already looking earnestly at him with his large, honeyed eyes.

"It's really nice of you, teaching Max to play. Thank you."

"Oh, 'twas nothing." Eddie clears his throat. "She's a good student."

"I'm curious: is there a difference between acoustic and electric?"

"Not really. Electric is a little easier, 'cause they're smaller and the strings are lighter."

"Acoustic sounds better, though," Steve says and laughs at Eddie's answering grimace. "All right, maybe not to the metal master," (Eddie stifles a gigglesnort; what an adorable dork), "but to a common listener, such as myself, acoustic is nicer. You can try to change my mind if you want, though."

"By… playing both for you?"

"Yeah."

Eddie gulps audibly. "N-now?"

Steve's smile is almost too wide for his face. He cocks his head, a lock of hair falling into his eyes, who are gleaming like gold in the light of the nearby street lamp.

"I'm not busy."

Eddie leads them up the stairs to his fourth-floor apartment. Their steps echo in time with the drumming of Eddie's heart. His grip on the DragonSlayer is unyieldingly stiff, lest it slides from his clammy palm.

This is fine. Steve is going to listen to him play and then go home, just as planned.

Like the building, the locks are old; his key jams and needs to be rattled before the door opens. He lets Steve in first, then closes the door behind them. Steve waits patiently, back to the wall and chest inches from Eddie's. Has the hallway always been this cramped?

Eddie turns to fumble around for the light switch, breath hitching when Steve touches his shoulders. Grasping the vest's spiked lapels, he pulls it off Eddie's frame and hangs it on the coat rack. Next, he grabs the guitar – warm, dry skin brushing Eddie's – and props it by the doorpost. Last, he looks at Eddie, his eyes searching, searching, searching…

Disregarding his sensibilities, Eddie nods.

Steve kisses him.

The force of it sends them stumbling, Eddie's back slamming into the wall. Their mouths smush together and their noses bump; for a moment it's too hard, too much. But then Steve angles his head, their lips melding, and it's perfect. Like silk sheets and rose petals, like champagne and chocolate truffles, like summer nights and meteor showers.

Steve mumbles something about waiting, about wishing, about finally. He's touching Eddie everywhere, chest pinning him against the wall, hands running up and down his arms, thigh pushing between his legs. His hard cock pokes against Eddie's groin, and it feels so thick.

All of Eddie's nerve endings are lighting up, sending tingles to converge in his belly before shooting back out to his limbs. He has no regrets. Everything he's done or that's been done to him was worth it, because it led to the best fucking kiss of his life. Steve will have to keep him after this – exposing him to this kind of touch only once would be cruel.

It's gentle, is the thing, but with the passion of a thousand lovers. Steve cups his face, tipping it, thumb caressing his cheek and fingers rubbing circles in his hair. His lips, soft but determined, parts Eddie's for a quick taste that leaves him wanting.

Eddie tries chasing, but Steve withholds – fucking teases – and goes back to nipping and licking. Rolling his hips until Eddie gasps, then slipping in his tongue to stroke the roof of Eddie's mouth. Then he starts over again, repeating the cycle until Eddie is whining, his knees so weak he slumps onto Steve's thigh.

Grabbing hold of his ass, Steve hoists him up. Eddie squawks, legs automatically wrapping around Steve's waist. Steve grins, juuuust on the wrong side of smug, and steps away from the wall, carrying Eddie like it's nothing. It would be infuriating if Eddie wasn't too busy wondering if, and if so for how long, Steve could fuck him like this.

"Bedroom?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, it's, uh, through there," Eddie says, pointing in what might be the right direction.

Then he yanks Steve's head back by his pretty hair and swallows his moan. Because with Steve's hands occupied, it means Eddie can do whatever he wants. And what he wants is shove his tongue as far down Steve's throat as he can.

It takes them a while, but they reach the bedroom. Steve deposits them on the bed, bringing them from vertical to horizontal in a smooth slide without breaking the kiss.

Eddie wraps tighter around him, wanting to feel him everywhere and always. Alas, Steve disentangles them with a chuckle. He sits up so he's kneeling, legs spread, Eddie's thighs resting on top of his. A hungry glint in his eyes, he undoes one more of his buttons, then forgoes the rest by pulling the shirt off like a sweater and flinging it aside.

Eddie wastes no time touching him, groping the firm pecs and caressing the soft belly. The coarse hair tickles his palms.

"Fuck me, you're perfect," he murmurs.

Steve giggles, pink blooming on his face. Coaxing Eddie's hands off him, he arranges his limbs on the bed, and Eddie lets him – he can do anything as long as he does it shirtless. He smooths his hand over the Metallica logo, pretty much petting his chest, before rucking the shirt up to Eddie's chin. Steve's eyes are black, more pupil than iris; he thumbs at the tattoo on Eddie's ribs.

"I was hoping you'd have more," he says. His other hand slides across Eddie's leg, fingers ghosting the edge of the large hole before one slips inside, tucking between the denim and the skin of Eddie's thigh. Eddie gasps; Steve smiles. "How much do I need to take off to see all of them?"

"Why don't you find out, big boy?" Eddie says, breathless but grinning, scooting closer to rub his ass on Steve's dick.

Steve rips off Eddie's shirt, tosses it where he tossed his own, and crashes their lips together as he unbuckles Eddie's belt.

Eddie hums into the kiss. It's perfect. Steve is perfect. The whole thing is as if out of a dream. Jesus Christ, it is straight out of one of his fantasies. The only thing missing is… is…

The uniform.

Fuck. He can't do this. Not like this. Fuck.

Eddie breaks the kiss, gently pushing Steve away.

"Eddie?"

He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. Looking at Steve right now is impossible – the shame will consume him. He shouldn't have let it go this far.

"Eddie? What's wrong?" Steve asks. "Please, I-"

"There's something you gotta know." Eddie forces his eyes open. The least Steve deserves is to be looked at while given the truth. Also, this is the first and possibly last time Eddie will see Steve on top of him. He should savor it. "I haven't been completely honest."

Steve's eyes dim. "You're married."

Eddie goggles. "What? No! Shit, I've never had a relationship go past the three-month mark. No, it's… Um…"

He sighs. Here comes the music; time to face it.

"You know that calendar you did? Gareth told you his mom had it?"

"Yes?"

"He lied. It's mine. I have the calendar." He inhales deeply, then lets it all out in one fast gust. "I recognized you the first time we met and I thought you were so hot and Gareth thought we should try finding you at the university and we did and then we hung out and now, uh, now we're here."

Steve blinks owlishly. "Oh."

"Yeah. I've jerked off to your picture for two and a half years and I thought you should know." Eddie rubs his eyes; they're burning, and his nose is clogging. Shit, not now… "So, um. If you want to stop, if you never want to see me again, I understand. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"It- Huh?"

Eddie's jaw slackens. He gawks up at Steve, who calmly meets his gaze. But it can't be this easy. It's never this easy, not for Eddie.

"S'fine." Steve shrugs. "Was that all?"

"Uh. Yeah."

"Good."

He dives back to resume the kiss, except this time it's hotter, dirtier, Steve licking behind his teeth and sucking on his tongue so Eddie's toes curl. He yanks Eddie's jeans and boxers down to his thighs, Eddie's cock springing out. Steve grips it, but doesn't stroke or squeeze – just holds. Eddie starts rocking into his fist and oh, oh, it's so good but not enough. He's so hard his head is spinning and he needs Steve's hands and his cock and he needs he needs he needs-

"Eddie," Steve says into Eddie's mouth. "What d'you want me to do? Tell me."

"Mmm, I want… Fuck, I needed you inside me two years ago."

Steve licks a wet stripe along his throat. "Whatever you want."

Then he sits up and flips Eddie over. Eddie grunts at the sudden movement, but his cock between his stomach and the mattress feels heavenly, and Steve parting his ass cheeks is even better, so he's not complaining.

He's especially not complaining when Steve leans down, rubbing his nose against Eddie's tailbone.

"You're okay with any part of me inside you?" he asks, breath warm on Eddie's skin.

Eddie groans. "Yes. Anything! Just touch me!"

Steve does, dragging the flat of his tongue from Eddie's taint up to his hole.

Eddie keens, burying it in the pillow due to those damn thin walls. It probably doesn't help, because he's being loud. He usually is, but not like this. Turns out Steve's tongue is amazing no matter where he puts it. He swirls it around the hole, laps heavily against the rim, slowly loosening Eddie up.

He writhes and moans, cock leaking precum on the sheets. Jerking forward, he humps the mattress for two sweet, relieving seconds before Steve grabs him by the hips and holds him in place. He would've griped about it if Steve hadn't immediately plunged his tongue into Eddie's hole. But Steve does, so Eddie screams instead.

Fuck the walls, he's having the time of his life.

He has been rimmed before, two or three times, but not this intensely. He hasn't been fucked by another man's tongue. Because that's what Steve's doing, lips on Eddie's ass and saliva dripping down his taint. He's as far in as it can go, tongue thrusting and stroking and… oh. Oh! Oh, fuck-

Eddie jolts, despite being held down, because Steve just flicked his tongue tip against someplace sensitive. He whines, begging Steve to do it again. Steve laughs, the sound reverberating through Eddie's ass, and does as told. And again. And again.

He flicks. Eddie screams.

He flicks. Screams.

Flicks. Screams.

And Eddie's on fire. His legs are shaking, his insides are thrumming, the pleasure courses and courses in electric waves and shit, did he just come?

"Holy shit, I think I just came," he says, fingers cramping where they've clutched the covers.

Steve pulls out with a slurp.

"Oh, cool," he pants. He crawls up the bed, his hard cock dragging a wet trail on Eddie's leg. "D'you wanna take a break or keep going?"

Eddie groans. What kind of a fucking question is that? His cock is still hard, and Steve's cock is hard, and Eddie is reeling from the best orgasm he's ever had, and does he want to keep going?

"Steve…" he says. "If you don't fuck me now, then I'll… I'll… " He trails off, slurring.

"Yes," Steve says, catching on anyway. "Okay. Yes."

He sounds wrecked. Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie is met by perfect hair in disarray, cheeks flushed and blotchy, a chin glistening with drool, and Steve's wild, ember eyes. Assured he's not the only one losing his mind, Eddie thumps his head back on the pillow. Bending his knees, he pushes his ass into the air and reaches back to spread his cheeks with his own fingers.

"Then hurry up, big boy," he croons, index finger circling the spitslick rim. "Before I do it myself."

Steve laughs, high-pitched like he's drunk. He fumbles for Eddie's lube and a condom he brought, thank fuck, because Eddie only has expired ones.

Lying on top of Eddie, Steve aligns their arms and interlocks their fingers, and pushes in. Eddie whimpers, because as loose and cock-starved as he is, Steve is huge, the tip alone wrecking his already sore ass. Steve shushes him gently, brushing away sweat-damp curls to plant a soft kiss at his nape. He rocks slowly, squeezing Eddie's hand and rubbing his hip, until the stretch gets better and the pain eases.

And then they fuck. Or maybe 'make love' is a more fitting term, because they hold hands during most of it. And sometimes, Steve will ease off, going so slow and sweet it borders on edging, drawing high-pitched noises from far down Eddie's chest. Then, once satisfied, he speeds up again, fucking harder while whispering compliments into Eddie's skin.

He makes Eddie come two more times, by fucking him and by jerking him off. At least, Eddie thinks that's what happened when he wakes up some hours later. He got a little delirious with pleasure at the end, though, so he's not a hundred percent sure.

He yawns and stretches. It's dark out, but the blinds are open and light pours in from the street lamp that for some reason had to be positioned right by his window.

"That light is the worst," Steve mumbles, burrowing into the pillow.

"Hmm, yeah. But I don't have to have my own lamp on. I save on electricity."

"Economical." Steve laughs, peeking up from the bedding. He's beautifully rumpled, bathed in shadows and light. "How d'you feel?"

"Awesome… did you clean me up?"

"Kinda had to – you passed out. I'm not letting you sleep with come crusting all over you," Steve says, nose scrunching.

"Not my fault. Blame your cock!"

They laugh again, together. It's nice. But it would've been nicer if there wasn't still one tiny thing nagging in the back of Eddie's head.

"Hey," he mumbles. "When you said… that the stuff with the calendar was fine, did you mean it? Or was your judgment clouded by horniness?"

Steve snorts. "'Course I meant it. I don't mind."

"Jesus."

"Do you want me to mind?"

"No. It's just that I've been putting off telling you about it because I was afraid you'd be upset. It's pretty creepy."

"Yeah, but…" Steve props his head onto his fist and shrugs one shoulder. "I guess it would be creepier if it were someone else. But it's you, and I like you, so… it's just flattering."

A grin stretches across Eddie's face. "You like me?"

"Uh, yeah." Steve rolls his eyes, but his face is also splitting in half. "Don't you like me?"

"I do."

Eddie winds his arms around Steve's waist, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I thought so," Steve says after their lips part. "I just didn't know how much – if you wanted to just fuck or if you wanted something more. Max was hinting you wanted more. And your friends seemed too invested for you not to want more. Then Robin told me 'he definitely wants more'. So I knew it was safe to go."

"Christ, dude, I like you so much I've given myself ulcers worrying you didn't like me back!"

"Sorry," Steve says unapologetically. "You can stop worrying."

They embrace, trading chaste kisses as they snuggle. Alternating between whispering nonsense and drawing patterns on each other and simply looking, unabashed and unhurried.

Then, Steve pulls away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He asks, "So where do you keep that calendar?"

Eddie's heart and stomach leap, trading places and knocking every other organ off course. He lunges at Steve, coiling around him like an octopus and trapping him to the bed.

"Nooooo!"

Steve guffaws. "I'm not gonna look for it! You'll have to tell me where it is."

He cocks his head at Eddie, sweet, innocent, evil. Eddie groans with the vigor of an annoyed pre-teen. Releasing Steve, he points at his desk.

"Top drawer."

Steve flies up, rummaging through the drawer before Eddie can blink. Whooping in triumph, he holds the calendar in front of himself and begins flipping through it. Eddie pulls the comforter up to his nose to hide his blush.

"April is missing?" Steve asks.

"The model was a cop."

"Ah."

Steve reclaims his spot on the bed. He's reached November and is scanning the photo with an approving smile.

Eddie grunts. "Are you admiring your own photo?"

"So? It's a good picture." Steve smirks at him. "I know you agree."

Grumbling, Eddie hides completely beneath the cover. This is what he gets for being honest. He's never telling the truth again.

"What do you say about me fucking you while wearing the uniform?" Steve asks.

Eddie throws off the comforter and catapults into sitting.

"We can do that?"

"Sure," Steve says easily, like he didn't just turn Eddie's world upside down. "Unless…" He leans in, lips hovering over Eddie's. "Unless you want to fuck me while I wear it?"

They don't fall back asleep until hours later.

(In fact, they sleep in until 11 am, when Eddie's alarm goes off. Gareth calls by lunchtime as promised, but Eddie misses it. He's too busy getting fucked against the shower wall.)

"You're not allowed to break up," Max says later that day, during their guitar lesson. The open mic might've passed, but she needs to learn more if they'll perform together. "It'll be awkward if you're exes. I won't be able to hang out with Steve if you're next door – I'll have to move."

Eddie smiles. He should point out they're not really together yet; that they've only barely started dating. Instead, he says:

"We won't."

And he can't explain how, but it's as if some higher power whispered all the answers to him while he slept in Steve's arms and he knows, he just knows, that he's telling the truth.

------------------------------

Thank you for reading. You're the best.

Oh, and I realize that I introduced things that excited a ton of people (such as Eddie meeting everyone else), so I might have to write a mini-sequel where that actually happens. Not now, though. Later.

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lenore1232, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll, @theysherobinbuckley, @freddykicksasses, @winterbuckwild, @sideblogofthcentury, @subparbrainfunction, @pemsha

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day ten

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), hints at anal play), angst, fluff

length : 10k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens

a/n : Hope you enjoy this one!! Comments and reblogs keep the writer writing 💕

•••

day ten

I was getting tired of unexpected knocks on my hotel room door. Especially when it was much too early and I was already rushing to get ready after something had prevented me from properly packing my suitcase last night. Now I had mere minutes until I needed to be downstairs with the rest of the crew and the band because Bring Me had an awfully early bus call to get to Sheffield. I couldn’t blame them for that - it was home, after all. Most of them were using the day off to visit friends and family, but Oli and, as far as I knew Matt too, were heading for the store for the day.

I ripped the door open as much as I could under the weight to find none other than Oli himself standing in the hallway, an amused smirk on his face.

“I don’t know how well you slept last night, but this hotel really has to work on soundproofing their walls,” he chuckled, letting himself in just past the doorway as I stood frozen. “‘Cause I was definitely wide awake hearing two people have the fuck of their lives. Like, holy shit, staying quiet definitely wasn’t part of their vocabulary at all. Did you hear them at all?”

“I…”

“Not gonna lie, it sounded pretty hot, I was almost a little tempted to, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows at me as he motioned toward his crotch.

“Oli-”

“Did you really not hear anything?”

The bathroom door opened so abruptly I almost jumped at the sound. Noah had freshened up but was still very much in yesterday’s clothes and extremely sleepy. I could basically see the gears turning in Oli’s head as he looked back and forth between us.

“That was you! Oh you dirty, dirty kids,” he laughed. Noah looked thoroughly confused, still standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Oli gave another chuckle, but something was amiss. I’d known him for years. I knew Oli’s teasing face, the way he sounded, the way his eyes crinkled in earnest. This wasn’t it. And it kept me silent, somehow.

“Well, bus call’s soon, so no time for a second round, eh?” His voice didn’t match his words. I couldn’t quite figure it out just yet, but it made me feel uncomfortable and awkward. Noah seemed to think the same as he stayed suspiciously silent, toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah, no, I’ll… I’ll catch you downstairs, yeah?” I finally managed to vomit out. Oli simply nodded, raised his hand in what I assumed should be a form of goodbye and then vanished back into the hallway.

It was only when the door clicked back into its lock that Noah moved next to me. Grabbing whatever he had left in the room - he briefly paused as he saw the bottle of Hennessey, but ultimately decided not to touch it - he got ready as if his bus call was imminent.

“I keep fucking up,” he said, more to himself than anything else as he moved past me to put on his shoes.

“Noah, you’re-”

“No, I am. It’s- it’s fine, I just need to-”

My hand on his arm stopped him just before he reached the door. He looked so conflicted, so torn, that it broke my heart along with his. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that we could be okay, that Oli would be okay, but even in my head it sounded like a lie. I couldn’t promise him something like that. All I could do was allow myself to be his for the taking if he ever decided to, well, take me on.

I pulled him down with a hand on his neck and put my lips on it and I hoped it would tell him everything I couldn’t say.

•••

Oli wasn’t waiting for me when I arrived downstairs. He wasn’t in the parking lot either. Or downstairs in the bus, or in the lounge. But the curtain of his bunk was pulled tightly shut and it worried me beyond belief. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly had caused him to withdraw, but my brain was providing me with a multitude of options, spinning through all of them at lighting speed as if it could make me decide on one of them, and it made me dizzy.

Especially because simply pulling away was so out of character for him. I’d expected him to make a fuss, pick a fight, get mean, argue with either me or Noah or both of us at such a volume that the rest of the hotel voluntarily evacuated, but none of that had happened. Not even a tiny remark shot our way. Not a single item thrown around the bus in frustration.

Either way, I was just so over not communicating.

Aubrey u up?

I was almost shaking waiting for his reply. It seemed silly, texting him the very thing he’d texted me that first night before the tour had really started, but I hoped he would recognise it and not consider my joking offensive when he was dealing with… something. When my phone displayed a new message, I almost threw it away in surprise, as if I’d been expecting radio silence.

Oli Is this a bootycall?

So - he didn’t hate me. And he remembered. It was a relief, really. With a slight smile playing on my face, I walked back towards his bunk and pulled the curtain back. He didn’t noticeably react, simply kept lying with his back turned to me. He did, however, shuffle forward just the tiniest bit and I took it as an invitation to climb in and shut the curtain behind me.

It was a tight fit, both of us in his bunk, especially since Oli had gotten noticeably more buff than the last time we’d done this on a tour, but with a bit of rearranging and me spooning him closely, we made it work. I placed my hand over his heart, feeling it beat underneath my fingertips, so fast it was almost concerning.

“Hey,” I whispered, quietly, as if anyone else could overhear us, as if it would matter if they did. Oli didn’t answer in words, but put his hand over mine, stroking the skin delicately. “Talk to me.”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled, like a stubborn little child. I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined him to be pouting as he spoke. Was this better than the explosions we usually faced when he got mad? I decided yes.

“Oli,” I replied, hoping his name in my mouth would sound vaguely scolding. “We talked about that. Communication and all that? Come on. I can’t bear it when you withdraw like this.”

He sighed so heavily it moved my body along with his.

“It’s embarrassing though.”

“And you can blush all you like, but you’re going to tell me. I’m not even looking at you. It literally won’t get better than this. And I won’t let you off the hook any time soon, I hope you know that.”

He grumbled for a little bit longer but I sat it out, knowing he’d come around sooner or later. The sooner was reached a lot more quickly than expected. I had been well prepared to spend most of the drive to Sheffield here, in silence, just holding him and waiting it out.

“It’s stupid, really, but seeing you with Noah this morning, knowing what you’d done…” He took a deep breath. I didn’t interrupt him even though the thoughts were already running through my head at high speed again. “I don’t mind that you fucked, you know. It just feels like… like he got something from you before I did and… it makes me feel like a leftover. Like the two of you don’t need me.”

I desperately tried to wrap my mind around what Oli was telling me. He was jealous that Noah got to have me first? That I’d decided - although it wasn’t much of a planned decision, but he couldn’t know that - to sleep with him before I considered Oli? That maybe I desired the other man more? Wanted him closer, in a more intimate setting, than Oli?

“And I know we’ve, like, done stuff before, all of us,” he continued. It seemed like now that he’d started, he barely managed to stop. “But I don’t just sleep with anyone and, fuck, this sounds so stupid, but I thought it might be special, sleeping with you for the first time, sleeping with both of you, and now I feel like I’m not really part of it anymore…”

He wasn’t just thinking about Noah being the first one to sleep with me. He was also thinking about me being the first one to sleep with Noah. I gave myself some time to think during the moments he stayed quiet. How would I have felt if they’d gotten together first? Leaving me as the odd one out, the one that hadn’t been present when they shared this new level of intimacy.

I probably would have felt rejected too.

“If it helps at all, neither of us planned to have sex last night,” I explained. “It was very much a spur of the moment thing after he crashed at mine because he’d been drinking. I think… I think I would have preferred it with you around as well.”

I hadn’t realised it until the words left my mouth, but it was true. Sleeping with Noah had been amazing - but if we’d shared that experience as a threesome, all sober and fully awake, it would have been phenomenal. I had no doubt about that.

“And you’re not second best. Not at all. You and Noah… I have so much love for both of you, in such different and such similar ways all at once. I could never prefer him over you, just like I could never prefer you over him. I’m sorry that it happened like this and that you had to find out like that.”

I didn’t know what else to say. How else to make him understand. I couldn’t take back what had happened. I couldn’t magically turn back time and turn Noah down, or make Oli appear in the room too. I could only try to make up for it moving forward. And I planned to.

“Dinner’s still on tonight, right? The three of us?”

Oli nodded. I wouldn’t have noticed if we’d not been so close. I pressed a kiss into his dark locks.

“We’ll make it up to you. Noah and I. Promise. Will you let us?”

It took a moment of Oli struggling for me to realise he was attempting to turn around. I almost slid off the edge, already imagining myself falling to the floor in the little walkway between bunks, but Oli quickly shifted and put an arm around me in the most complicated way to keep me safe. There was a lot more shuffling, trying to keep our limbs intact and our hair from getting caught up somewhere, until we settled on a final position, our legs intertwined, foreheads pressed against each other.

“As if I could ever resist you, Aubrey. You and Noah, both.”

•••

As it turned out, I didn’t have all that much to do when I travelled to the store with Oli and Mat. Most of the organisational matters had been taken care of by the local workers, those in charge of Drop Dead and everything around it, and I was barely much more than a glorified babysitter as I ushered Oli back and forth to where he was needed.

At least his mood had improved considerably. I hoped I had played some sort of part in it. When he talked to the people around him, waved to a couple of fans, studied the designs he’d helped with, I knew it wasn’t a facade. He was truly happy here, and I caught myself thinking that maybe he could be truly happy with me and Noah, too.

“I don’t really know how long this will take, but it might be a while, so if you want to leave, I don’t know, walk through the city, get a nap, you really don’t have to stay here,” Oli told me when I managed to catch up with him. I knew he meant it. He wasn’t one for playing games like that. “I can text you and Noah the address of the place I reserved at, and the time. How’s that sound?”

I agreed, not because I was bored but because I felt wholly unneeded and kept standing in the way. The question of what I was going to do with my time was answered much quicker than expected as I ran into Becky on the way out.

“You know, I think we get a discount on this stuff. And if not I’ll make Oli give you one,” I grinned as I watched her flip through some of the shirts.

“Thank god, because this shit is expensive,” she replied, immediately letting go of the fabric in ther hands. “What do you say we go for an equally as overpriced coffee instead?”

“I do love me a good dose of caffeine,” I admitted.

Becky held out her arm for me to take it and I complied with a giggle, leaving the store with her and wandering the streets, making small talk as we tried to find a coffee shop to our liking. When we finally located one, ordered and sat down, I felt all the exhaustion I’d been carrying with me take over. I sank deeper into the comfortable armchair, wondering if it’d be inappropriate to get in a little cat nap.

“Looks like Oli is keeping you up. Or was that Noah?”

I briefly panicked, wondering if, somehow, word had gotten around that I’d slept with Noah.

“You’re hanging out with both of them a lot. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted trying to keep my one man at home happy, never mind two. And those two out of everyone! You truly picked the most exhausting ones to be friends with.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping it wasn’t too visible and took a quick sip of coffee to hide my embarrassment.

“Yeah, they're… a handful. But I doubt it's much better for them, I'm sure I can be just as exhausting,” I laughed. “So you got a man at home, hm? Is he gonna visit on tour or has he already and I've simply missed him?”

“Oh no, he's going to be around in Dublin. It's where we live, actually. Got abducted to the other isle by an Irishman. In my defence though, he looks like Hozier's younger brother and he's just as tall, so really, how could I have resisted!”

“Tall men, eh,” I agreed, moving my cup to cheers with hers.

“Tall men, indeed.”

We stayed quiet for a moment, both of us lost in thoughts, but I wasn't a fan of the silence for long.

“Are you looking forward to going home then? We only have four more dates left, right?”

“So much. Unfortunately it's not for long. I'm leaving again on the 26th for the Bad Omens tour.”

“You’re heading on their tour with them?” This was news to me. I was well aware Bad Omens were still going to be in Europe for a while and I had absolutely been staring at those tour dates as they were selling out one by one, tempted to make a trip somewhere to see them headline, but with no work lined up it was impossible to plan. The fact that Becky had been hired by them hadn’t been relayed to me.

“Yeah, apparently they were looking for someone local and Bring Me suggested me since I’d already worked a few shows with them before. No rest for the wicked, eh!”

“No rest indeed,” I sighed. I wished I wouldn’t be getting any rest either. Maybe I should beg someone for a merch job on that tour. They probably had all their positions filled, but I was getting desperate at this point. Being away would also give me some time to find a new place to live. But did I have the guts to straight up beg for it, knownig I’d probably only get it because they took pity on me and not because they really needed me?

“So, you’re basically in a long-distance relationship then, with you being away so much, aren’t you?”

Becky exhaled into her cup of coffee. “We make it work, you know? It was tough in the beginning. He has a very steady, reliable, boring day job and I’m just all over the continent but we’ve accepted that about each other. We check in and I usually video call him in the evening. And, well you can get creative with what you do on video, too.”

I almost spewed out the coffee at her remark, knowing fully well by the tone in her voice what she was referring to. The wiggling eyebrows sealed the deal.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“By all means, I’m glad you’re having a good sex life still.”

I put the cup back on the table. I wasn’t sure how long it had been empty for, but I knew I’d been holding onto it for no obvious reason.

“Did he ever mind? Knowing that being with you would mean being away from you for a long time?” I paused for a moment, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my questions. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, I’m just sitting here interrogating you like you’re on trial.”

“Oh, don’t worry about, darling. Ask all you want. For us, it was never a question, really. What can I say? We fell hard and fast. I could have moved to Australia and he would have made it work.”

I didn’t know why I felt like crying. I tried to hide the tears that were on the edge of emerging by organising the items on the little table in front of us until they had straightened out and seemed in order. Maybe that was more suspicious than me getting emotional.

“So, it’s all about love, isn’t it,” I said, trying hard not to sniffle. “As long as you love them enough, you make it happen.”

I only looked up when Becky put her hand over mine. Her eyes were soft, but there was no pity in them and I silently thanked her for it.

“Sometimes you have to realise just how in love you are first. Or allow yourself to admit it.”

•••

By pure luck and what I could only call a miracle, I bumped into Noah in the hallway of the hotel, on the way back to my room. He stopped immediately, and then let me into his room, assuring me it was empty for now, when he realised I didn’t want to have this conversation where we could possibly be overheard.

“Aubrey, I’m sorry,” he started but I held my hand up to stop him before he got any farther.

“I know. I know you are. I don’t know what kind of stuff you need to figure out for yourself, but I’m giving you the time to do it, okay? You’re always welcome in my room and, well, in my bed and just about everywhere else and if there’s things you want to discuss, I’ll make time for you. I’m just asking you not to keep going back and forth and changing your opinion and treating me like someone you’re dating as long as you’re not. Dating me that is. Alright?”

I took a deep breath, holding my head up high. Somewhere in the edges of my brain, I could almost hear Lia cheering me on, congratulating me for speaking my mind and putting up boundaries. I knew it was the right thing to do. For myself, for once.

“Alright,” he simply said. He deserved a little more space to think over what I’d just told him. I hoped he would.

“Well, in completely contrasting news, I hope you know we’re going out for dinner with Oli tonight?”

Noah nodded.

“Good. Because we’re going to treat him right, okay? He’s been… well, he feels a little left out of whatever the three of us have going on and that’s not happening on my watch. So we’re going to be real good to him tonight, whatever that entails and wherever we end up with. Anything to let him know he’s just as important and cherished. Is that something you can do?”

“Yeah… yeah, I think I can.”

“Good.” I gave him a smile, feeling the energy leave me as I finally got everything out I had come here to say. “Put on something nice. Apparently it’s a place that needed a reservation.” I walked a little closer, putting my hand on his chest. “I think we’d all enjoy the turtleneck a lot.”

•••

Oli and Noah looked positively divine when we met up at the restaurant later that night. Noah was every bit as gorgeous as I had hoped he’d be in the turtleneck. Even Oli gave him an appreciative whistle as he saw him, which once again caused Noah to sport a lovely little blush. Oli himself was wearing a white shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and had entirely too few buttons opened. I briefly considered ignoring our dinner reservation as just taking them back to the hotel immediately and by the way the two of them were mustering me, those thoughts seemed to be mutual.

I’d made an effort. My black dress, thin, with lace and spaghetti straps, had an asymmetrical cut, showing off much more of my right thigh than my left. It was a shame I couldn’t wear it without tights, but the January cold simply wasn’t allowing it. The heels were the only ones I could walk in confidently, with a wide block heel, velvety and sexy. Both men still towered over me.

I’d also put on my dark red lipstick, at Oli’s request. The one that would smudge if touched. It might make dinner a little more complicated, but that was a challenge I was willing to accept.

Luckily, the place didn’t turn out to be too fancy, I realised as a waiter showed us to our seats, Oli’s hand on the small of my back and his other resting on Noah’s arm. Oli hadn’t needed a reservation because it was so impossibly packed during a random Thursday in January. He had needed one because he had asked for a very special table.

The waiter led us to a little platform on which sat what I could only describe as a bird-cage-esque structure, a hexagon of lightly coloured, wooden walls, two of them completely open and leading in and out of the main restaurant area, the other four adorned with a grid of windows. It seemed like there was a spotlight on it, right in the middle of the room, but as soon as I stepped inside and took my seat, I realised it also came with a lot of privacy. It was perfect.

“Bottle of wine?” Oli asked as we flipped through the drinks menu.

I looked over at Noah, but even before he could have seen me stare, he shook his head. “None for me today. I’s rather be sober.”

I wanted to tell him thank you and I know why but either would have opened up questions about what had happened the last two nights, things Oli wasn’t in the loop about, and it didn’t feel like my place to tell. Either way, Oli accepted quickly, ordering some water and and mocktails for the table, claiming that just because we were abstaining from alcohol didn’t mean we couldn’t have some fancy looking drinks.

“I can’t believe we only have four more shows on this run,” I sighed. I hadn’t meant to mention it really, but it was starting to weigh on my mind after my talk with Becky earlier. It had made me realise just how close we were to saying goodbye, going our separate ways. Oli back to recording the album, Noah still on tour, me… well, I’d have to figure that one out, too. So far my search for both a job and a place to stay hadn’t been very successful.

“Hey,” Oli interrupted my pondering, putting his hand over mine. Noah seemed to briefly feel left out, grabbing my other hand to mirror the sentiment. “No being sad at our date. It’s not like we’ll never see each other after.”

I wasn’t quite that confident in the future, but he was right. Now was not the time or place to start overthinking.

“Date, eh?” I joked instead. Deep down, I wanted confirmation, but I was too cowardly to ask outright. Then I remembered Noah’s hesitation to the idea of us going on a date before, but he was simply sipping his newly arrived drink, either ignoring the underlying question or being at peace with it. I couldn’t quite figure it out yet.

“I figured it should be one, you know,” Oli mused in fake contemplation. “Only seems fair to take you two out for dinner before I fuck you.”

If Noah had been slightly apathetic at the conversation before, he now put himself in the middle of it as he did a literal spit take, droplets of his mocktail landing on the wooden table. I was quick to mop it up with my napkin, trying to hold the laughter at bay. Oli didn’t care. He gave a bark that was loud enough to be heard by just about everyone in the restaurant. There were some spots on Noah’s turtleneck too and even though they would probably dry to be invisible on the dark shirt, I reached out to pat at it too.

He stood up a little abruptly, feeling the wet fabric with his fingers. “I’m just gonna head to the bathroom. Order me the chickenburger, yeah?”

Oli and I were still giggling by the time he disappeared from view.

“Should I go after him?” he questioned with a smirk. “Or is that gonna make things worse?”

“The latter probably,” I giggled. “He might think you’re trying to fuck him in the bathroom stalls.” Oli made a face that suggested he was thinking about it. I smacked my hand against his shoulder. “I’ll go check on him. Order me whatever, you know what I like.”

By the time I’d reached the toilets, Noah was already exiting the room again. I approached him slowly, a hand coming to rest on his chest when I was close enough.

“Oli a bit much for you?”

“When is he not,” he sighed but immediately followed it up with a smile. “It just came a little unexpectedly.”

His hand reached for mine, again, playing with my fingers and stroking the back of it as I kept it on his chest, heavy breathing underneath.

“You know he doesn’t expect anything of you, right? You don’t have to go home with him, or us. And if you do, no one’s making you do anything. He knows you’ve never, you know… been with a man like that.”

“I want to,” Noah stated, voice much more steadfast that I would have expected. “I really do. I’m just… nervous I won’t be any good.”

“Oli’s so into you, I don’t think he’d care even if you did everything wrong your possibly could,” I giggled. Relief flooded my veins when he joined in. “Besides, he’s no better off. He talks a lot of shit and he’s really good at pretending, but unless he has a whole other life he hasn’t shared with me, his experience with men doesn’t go further than some drunken make-out sessions either.”

Noah nodded, perhaps slightly unconvinced, but a lot less jittery than before. I pressed a kiss to his lips, delighted by the fact that I didn’t have to get on my usual tiptoes with the heels I was wearing. He kept me there, for a moment, with his hand at the nape of my neck, even when the kiss had ended. Simply breathing each other in. I allowed him to decide when to break the contact. I figured he needed it.

“Thank you”, he whispered.

“What for?”

“Just being you.”

•••

The rest of our outing continued much less dramatically, but filled with laughter and little flirts. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so good, just by being around these two. Oli had ordered for all of us as the waiter had indeed come by while Noah and I were gone. There was a good chance I was making heart eyes at him when a plate of curry appeared in front of me. He’d known it was my favourite. He seemed to know it all, I realised.

We ended up squeezed in the backseat of a cab, each of us with a to-go back with desserts on our laps. Oli insisted on taking them, even though neither of us were thinking very much about eating right about now. The tension in the backseat was thick - not necessarily bad, considering growing arousal and excitement were pumping through my veins as I tried to imagine what was to come.

The car took a sharp turn, prompting a low gasp from Noah when my body pressed closer to his. On his exhale, a soft hum was pulled from his throat. A reminder that I wasn’t the only one who was about to benefit from this.

The scenery outside changed, restaurants and cafés and shops giving way to a residential area, little blocks of flat, small houses with tiny gardens in front. Not the industrial complexes, the hotels, the high-rise buildings I was expecting.

“This isn’t the way to the hotel.”

As I turned to Oli, I was caught off guard by the smirk on his face. That fucker. He had ordered the cab, he had planned this. Planned - what, though? He let out a chuckle at my confusion, clearly pleased with my reaction.

“Because we’re not going there.” Oli leaned in, lips brushing my ear, yet speaking loudly enough that Noah wouldn’t be left out of the conversation. “Did you really think I’d let you bed me in a random hotel room and not my place when we’re in Sheffield?”

Noah tensed next to me. As I turned to look at him, Oli’s lips once again brushing my skin, I realised he was clutching the takeaway container a little more desperately. He’d definitely heard. And by the way he was trying to press the box down against his crotch, it had gotten him just as hot as it had gotten me.

The driver announcing our arrival saved either of us from reacting to the fact that Oli had just all but told the driver we were going to hook up in some capacity or other. All of us scrambled to get out into the cold night, no thoughts left but to get inside as quickly as possible. All I wanted was to get those two undressed, get my hands on them, my lips, I didn’t care if it was going to be a bedroom or not. I was beyond superficial details like that.

Noah wrapped an arm around me as I shivered in my coat, both of us careful not to drop the desserts. The building towered over us, several stories high and quite obviously new. Much more expensive than I could ever afford. I hoped it would have more soul once we were inside. Oli unlocked the door, the little Powerpuff Girls charm dangling from his key ring, and led us to the lift. It went all the way to the top floor where he let us into his apartment.

It was… perfectly Oli. The place had a homely feel to it, not small enough to feel cramped, not big enough to get lost in the feeling of its vastness. I wanted to stay forever, go through his things, study the way he decorated, how he sorted his stuff, what he had kept over the years and what had gotten moved into a faraway closet that never got opened. All the things that made him tick.

The large bookcase was filled with novels that called out for me to leaf through, study their contents, let my fingers run along their spines, ask him which ones he had read yet, see how his collection compared to my much smaller one. Little trinkets and souvenirs from all over the world were placed in between. So many stories to tell. So many anecdotes I hadn’t gotten to hear yet.

My eyes fell on the floor-length windows. They provided a stunning view all over the city, lights twinkling in the dark. I could stay here and watch forever. If I could afford it, I’d surely get a place like this too. As I stepped closer, trying to avoid the glare from inside lights, the container in my hands almost bumped into the window pane. Right. The desserts.

“Oli, where do-”

While I had been exploring Oli’s living room, Noah had apparently started exploring Oli’s body. The takeaway boxes safely set on the counter of the open kitchen, the two of them were tightly intertwined. Oli was holding Noah close, his arms wrapped around the other’s waist as Noah perfectly molded himself to Oli’s chest. His own hands were impatiently touching his back, his arse, his shoulders, as if they couldn’t get enough of what they were feeling. It was a familiar sentiment.

I approached the pair, dropping the takeaway next to theirs, allowing my fingers to trail over both of their bodies. Noah pulled back when he realised, lips already red from the intense kiss.

“Bedroom?” I simply asked. Noah nodded enthusiastically as Oli untangled himself with a smirk. He led us through a short hallway, past his bathroom which seemed even more luxurious than the hotel ones I’d been fawning over, and into his bedroom, the second to last door.

It was much less decorated than the living area, but still drew me in. The dark carpet, heavy curtains that hid the window, the plush bed - the bed was large enough that, if I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed Oli had ordered it specifically for the three of us. We’d fit in much better than at the hotel which was more than an advantage for what we were planning to do that night.

Noah seemed to have the same thought as he pushed Oli onto the mattress, immediately dropping to his knees in front of him and starting to work on removing Oli’s trousers. Not wanting to be left out, I moved onto the bed as well, slowly unbuttoning Oli’s dress shirt, one by one, my fingers tracing over every inch of hot skin that revealed itself. Oli was already growing restless, one of his hands covering mine to speed up my movements, but I remained relentless.

I didn’t care to remove the shirt completely as I pushed the fabric away, revealing a chest full of tattoos I would never get sick of staring at. Oli’s breathing quickened as I let my fingertips run over the lines, his nipples, up his neck.

“Aubrey, I swear to god, if you don’t kiss me soon-”

I leaned down, letting my lips touch the shell of his ear, just as he had done in the cab.

“Yeah? Then what?”

I didn’t torture him by waiting for an answer, instead putting my lips on his with no further warning, immediately catching him in a passionate kiss. He sighed, then gasped into it, leaving me to wonder what Noah was currently up to, but when Oli tried to get me to open my mouth, deepen our connection further, I pulled back. His lips were tinted red now, a slight stain of my lipstick even on the skin around his mouth.

I wasn’t quite sure why yet, but it was a sight that utterly captivated me and made me adore him more. I wanted to kiss him stupid, leave my mark all over, see my lips all over his body, every day. I pressed another kiss on his cheek, then in the middle of the rose on his neck, where the red was losing itself in between the thicker, black lines, a colouring book I wanted to try all my shades on.

Looking behind me, I watched as Noah pulled Oli’s underwear down his legs, discarding them without much care, much too preoccupied with the way Oli’s dick bounced upward as it was freed from the fabric, already considerably hard and mouth-wateringly delicious. Feeling my stare on him, he managed to tear his gaze away, only to grin at me in the most devilish way, motioning for me to join him on the floor. I did without hesitation.

He pulled me in for a quick kiss, allowing me to leave more of my lipstick on him too, even though the marks were already becoming more faint in their intensity. I could only imagine the way my own face looked, colour shifting around my mouth, no precision left in the outline.

“Help me treat Oli right?” Noah whispered against my lips. “I bet he’ll love two mouths on his dick even more than one.”

He did. He couldn’t be blamed - I wasn’t sure how I’d cope if I had two pairs of lips, two tongues, playing with my pussy at the same time. As soon as Noah and I both started leaving teasing little kisses on Oli’s length, he dissolved into a puddle of moans. He was still propped up on his elbows, watching the two of us on our knees, so it was impossible to tell if it was just the feeling of it or the visual as well.

It wasn’t the most technically perfect blowjob in history as Noah and I kept clashing, getting more and more lost in our own lust of getting our mouths on Oli, tasting him, swallowing him, then licking him while the other person swallowed him. Oli’s hands were all over the place, completely uncoordinated as they grasped at the backs of our heads, our hair, the bedsheets, anything they could find. One of my hands had travelled to Noah’s crotch.

I was much too distracted to do much but enjoy the way he was growing in his trousers. Or how my knees were uncomfortably rubbing against the hard floor. My brain was clouded with lust and the need to get Oli to come. Tonight was going to be all about him, in away he’d let it, and just the thought of spending a few more hours with my hands on Oli, getting him high again and again, hopefully finally feeling his dick inside me, had me delirious.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” Oli mumbled. When his hand found the back of my head again, gripping my hair and pulling me off him, it was with intention. His eyes were almost pleading when I looked up. “Can I-?”

I nodded before he posed the complete question. He could. In fact, I was gagging for it. As much as I’d enjoyed blowjobs before in my life, never had I been craving for their smells, their taste, their cum as much as I did with these two.

Noah pulled away, letting his fingers play with the part I wouldn’t manage to get in my mouth, fondling his balls, as I slowly took Oli as deep as I could without gagging, still missing a good portion, but all aspirations to swallow him whole would have to wait another day.

Oli wasn’t lying when he said he was close. His hips were starting to shift off the bed, fighting a losing battle as he tried to keep himself from fucking my mouth, his noises an amalgamation I wanted to record and put in a song. When he came, he did so with a punched-out sound, shallow thrusts that slowly stopped as I swallowed as much as I could. When I let him drop from my mouth, I could feel some of it dripping from my lips still. Noah caught me in a kiss, greedily licking at them until there was nothing left.

“Jesus Christ, you two are nasty,” Oli groaned, but all of us knew it was the opposite of a complaint. He sat up a little more, face flushed, looking utterly satisfied. “Now why the fuck are you still dressed?”

I stood up eagerly. The whole scene between the three of us had gotten me uncomfortably wet, my panties noticeably sticky. I didn’t care what exactly would follow, as long as it included an orgasm of my own sooner or later. I’d barely grasped the seam of my dress when Noah’s hands appeared on my legs. Their warmth seeped through my tights, mixing with the hotness of my own skin.

“Let me,” he whispered, still on his knees, hands travelling upward, slowly and teasingly, until they reached the hem of my tights. He rolled down the fabric, over my thighs, where he paused to press a kiss to the snake tattoo, over my knees, my shins. He only stopped to take off my boots, then resumed his task, until my feet and legs were bare.

For a moment, as I looked down, Noah on his knees before me, those big brown eyes staring up at me, adoration radiating from his whole being, his hands under my dress, it felt like a worship I wasn’t deserving of.

Then, he got up to pull the dress over my head before I could ruminate on it or start to cry. Noah never let me miss his touch for too long, toying with the clasp of my bra as he peppered kisses all over the side of my neck, finally unhooking and removing it completely, only for his lips to attach themselves to my nipples. I couldn’t seem to do much but take it all in, sighing at each and every touch, purely giving into pleasure.

His fingers were tracing over the fabric, so lightly I could barely feel it at all, but it was enough to cause my knees to buckle and my hands to grasp onto his body for fear of falling. I was so hopelessly turned on, every tiny thing had me losing my mind.

“She’s so fucking wet, she’s basically dripping on my fingers,” Noah chuckled. “Where do you want her?”

“Right here, on my face.”

I stiffened immediately, eyes snapping open and staring at Oli, who had gotten comfortable on the bed, in all his naked glory, motioning for me to join him. I felt equal parts insecure and excited - I’d never sat on anyone’s face. Not only had no one ever offered, I was also terrified of being too much. My thighs suffocating the other person. Looking awful from their angle. Not being able to come because I was so tense from holding myself up so desperately.

But Oli… Oli wasn’t just looking at me with lust. He wasn’t doing this for any reason but because he craved it. Because he knew he could make it good for me. And, even if my heart was beating out of my chest with nerves, I trusted him.

“I thought tonight was going to be all about you?” I teased, still stalling. Noah was busy pulling my underwear down my legs, tapping on each ankle in turn so I would lift my feet, aiding him in removing the item.

“Who said this is anything but a treat for me?”

Somehow, that sealed the deal. On slightly shaky legs, I crossed the short distance, climbed on the bed and then hesitated as I kneeled next to Oli’s body.

“How-”

I didn’t need to finish the question. Oli, once again, knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Face that way,” he ordered, motioning toward the room, toward the other man. “I’m sure Noah can think of something to make it even better for you.”

With a nod, I awkwardly climbed over Oli’s body, trying to position myself over his face, much too preoccupied with what I was doing and how it would look and whether I might squish Oli to watch the other man. I found myself shuffling, again and again, the muscles in my thighs straining as I held myself up. I didn’t know where to put my hands, or whether to lean in any particular way. Even Noah removing his tight turtleneck and shoving down his trousers couldn’t sufficiently distract me.

“Aubrey, what the fuck are you doing,” Oli mumbled from underneath me, making me halt in my movements.

“I just-”

“It’s called sitting on someone’s face, not hovering.”

I was about to protest, but then his hands heavily grasped onto my thighs, pulling me down so decidedly that I had no option to fight against it, and then, the words still on my tongue, he licked through my wetness and I was so over convincing him of anything that didn’t include his mouth on me.

A moan was ripped from my throat as I dropped my hands forward onto Oli’s chest. Fuck. I’d severely underestimated just how turned on I was. His tongue was flicking my clit ever so slightly, every now and then, before going back to explore the rest of my pussy, and I was already throbbing.

Noah crawled onto the bed next to us, fully naked now, his hard cock standing proudly, and somehow, the pure sight of it heightened my arousal. I ground my hips downward, unable to get enough of Oli, but his hands, clasped tightly on my thighs, kept me exactly where he wanted me. It was as exhilarating as it was frustrating.

I was desperate to come now. I was desperate to feel something inside of me, too, in addition to Oli’s tongue on my clit, but I didn’t want to beg. Not yet. And this night was about Oli - if he’d wanted his fingers in me, they would already be there. All I could do was let myself fall into the sensations, trust that his teasing would result in an orgasm, and study Noah, who was now climbing onto Oli’s frame as well.

I watched as he took his own cock in his hand, admiring the way his fingers looked wrapped around it, then he ground his hips against Oli’s. Oli’s dick gave a twitch in response, ready to grow hard once again, and the moan vibrated through me so deliciously that I felt like screaming. I kept eye contact with Noah through it, as difficult as it was becoming. His smile told me he knew exactly what he was doing - both to Oli and to me.

With a sly grin, Noah repeated his action. His whole body shuddered at the contact, obviously desperate for release, but his focus was solely on Oli and me. Oli moaned again, loud enough that I could both hear and feel it, and it was good, it was so much more than good, and I needed it badly, so, so badly. Noah knew. He grasped onto both of their dicks now, wrapping his long fingers about him and Oli, getting the other more and more hard, jacking both of them off.

Oli was growing restless again, his hips thrusting upward to meet Noah’s movements, his mouth now constantly moaning against me, his vibrations ever increasing. He closed his lips around my clit now, so delicately and yet strongly enough and I came, shouting and screaming and clawing at his chest as my legs trembled and then gave in, almost dropping fully on Oli’s body.

Noah was quicker, though, catching me easily, strong hands holding me up until I managed to drop onto the mattress as all of my muscles refused to work. Then he bent down toward Oli and I turned my head just quickly enough to see the wetness I had left on Oli’s face and how Noah proceeded to kiss all of it away.

Oli lost himself in it for a moment, but he wouldn’t let Noah have the upper hand for long. With a quick move, he turned the two of them around, trapping Noah against the mattress. Noah, so tall and broad, suddenly looked utterly smitten and small underneath him.

“How have we gone so long without my mouth on your dick,” Oli mused as he kissed his way down Noah’s chest. “You already got to suck me off twice.” He was now palming Noah’s dick, his mouth stilling somewhere along his hips. “Now it’s time for me to get mine. You gonna be a good boy, Noah? Keep your hips still so I can blow you? You better be or this is gonna be over before you know it.”

Noah nodded, eagerly, falling into this submissive role with ease, which I couldn’t help but take note of. It was fascinating watching him, who was always so self-assured and in control on stage, let go of it all and simply put himself into Oli’s hands, knowing and trusting he would get exactly what he needed, if not always what he wanted.

Oli’s mouth hovered over Noah’s dick now, his breath already hitting the tip, but before he gave into Noah’s wishes, he turned his head toward me. I’d since sat up, craving nothing more than a front-row seat to the spectacle as my body slowly came back to life.

“And you be a good girl too and prepare yourself for me, yeah? I’m going to fuck you when he’s finished and I’m not going to put any fingers in you first.”

My face was heating up with such intensity, I could only imagine how red it was. But I, too, nodded, shifting my body slightly and parting my legs, ready to do as he asked. What I was seeing in front of me would drench me once again in no time anyway.

Oli engulfed Noah’s tip without any further hesitation now. Noah’s hands flew to the back of Oli’s head, halting in their movements immediately but then relaxing into his hair as he realised Oli wasn’t going to scold him for it. I let my fingers wander between my thighs, another wave of wetness hitting me as I watched the two men. Oli had clearly done his research, expertly bobbing his head, taking Noah a little deeper, but keeping to the rules he had put to Noah just days before to save his voice for the rest of the tour and moving his hand to pleasure all of him.

When I slipped a finger inside of me, I found no resistance, just slick walls begging for more, begging to be filled properly, so I let another finger join. The noises of me pumping my fingers in and out were impossible to ignore, but they still paled in comparison to Noah’s low groans and the way Oli was starting to drool around Noah’s cock.

The third finger was a stretch, but Oli was big enough that I knew I needed it to take him comfortably. I didn’t mind it. I enjoyed it just that bit more if it was a little too much, a little too intense, a little too fast. I would probably love taking Oli without any preparation at all. I pushed the thought away for another day.

Noah was close now. I could tell from the noises that escaped his mouth, the way his fingers were all but tearing at Oli’s hair. He had trouble keeping his hips down, but if there was one thing to know about Oli is that his threats usually weren’t empty. Oli sped up further, both his mouth and his hand. I quickly removed my fingers from my pussy, just in time, as Noah came, moaning so beautifully, unable to stop thrusting into Oli’s mouth once, twice. I would have come on the spot too if I’d still been touching myself.

Oli pulled himself off, licking up everything that had escaped him from Noah’s cock, who whined pitifully. The way he wiped his mouth on his hand almost seemed obscene. Even after all that had transpired already. Noah was busy catching his breath, eyes closed, looking utterly satisfied. Oli, however, was far from done.

Crawling over to the bedside table, he opened the uppermost drawer. Filled with condoms, lube and wipes, as far as I could see, it obviously served as his closest assembly of anything he could need for spontaneous sex. Though I didn’t doubt he’d have a much bigger collection of things somewhere else. He blindly grabbed one of the condoms, tearing it open and rolling it onto his thick, hard erection. My mouth was watering already. In an instant, he was on me, pulling me into a bruising kiss.

“How did he fuck you, Aubrey?” His lips was wandering from my neck down to my chest, pushing me backwards until I was lying flat, then letting his teeth graze over my nipples. I cried out at the feeling, sensitive to a fault and yet not getting anywhere near enough. “Did you do it missionary, like an old couple? Did he make you ride him, watch your pretty tits bounce? No… He did you from behind, didn’t he?”

His hands harshly grabbed onto my hips and before I knew it, Oli had turned me on my front, pulling me up to my knees in front of him. I propped myself up on my elbows, ready to let him do whatever he wanted to me as long as it involved his dick in me. His fingertips were digging into my flesh now, hard enough that I knew it would leave bruises. I couldn’t wait to see them.

“Let’s see who can do it better, doll.”

I didn’t have any more time to prepare as he pushed in roughly, not stopping until he was entirely buried in me and I was crying out at the delicious stretch. He felt amazing in me, even without moving, but when he finally did, it brought me to new heights without any trouble at all. He didn’t show any mercy, thrusting so hard that the bed was moving along with us, the sound of skin slapping echoing the room. I gave myself over to him completely, allowing him to treat me however he liked, utterly brainless, unable to care about anything but the fire in my lower belly burning hotter and hotter.

I barely realised Noah was moving, much too distracted by the way Oli was fucking me to take note of anything else, until he appeared in my field of vision, fumbling with the drawer Oli had left open. Curious, I tried my best to lift my head to see what his plan was, but Oli gave me another hard thrust that caused my arms to falter completely, my chest hitting the mattress. I didn’t try to hoist myself up again.

I heard a click, some shuffling behind me, then-

“Fuck!” Oli exclaimed, pushing into me again with a shudder. “Oh, fuck.”

I didn’t know what had just changed, but suddenly, Oli was a mess, irregular in how he fucked me. I pushed back into him, missing the rhythm he had established, but he was still slightly distracted.

“Fuck, Noah, that’s-”

I allowed myself to turn my head, struggling with the position, but managing just enough to see Noah standing behind Oli. There was no way to see exactly what was happening, but with the way Oli was now arching both toward me and toward Noah, his body seemingly unable to decide which way to go and-

“Did Noah just put a finger in your arse?”

“Two, love. Two;” Oli moaned, losing control at the treatment. Then, as if remembering his main goal, he crowded against my back, positioning me just the way he liked and fucked me hard, again, bringing me to the brink of my orgasm in a matter of moments.

I was loving the sounds in the room, the filthy atmosphere, the way Oli and I were chasing our heights, the way Noah made himself part of it, how Oli faltered under it. It was only a matter of moments, my own hand reaching between my legs, and then I was clenching around Oli, crying out at the force that hit me, riding it until I felt utterly spent, letting Oli, who was now nothing but a sweaty mess against my back, fuck me harshly until he came too, shooting into the condom with high-pitched moans.

Oli just about managed to pull out before collapsing on my back, pressing me into the mattress, until I started struggling underneath him, his ever heavier growing figure leaving me gasping for a breath I wasn’t able to catch yet anyway. Noah was the one who ended up providing the most aftercare, stashing the lube he’d used on Oli, passing around wipes and water he got from somewhere I couldn’t quite follow, but he was also the only one out of us whose brain still seemed to work at least a little.

I ended up making grabby hands at him like a little child as the sweat on my body slowly turned cold, leaving an entirely different type of goosebumps to wreak havoc on my skin. Noah saw, pulling the plush blanket up with him as he got into bed next to me, making sure to tuck both me and Oli in before hugging close to me.

Oli was still on his back, staring at the ceiling, apparently questioning… his life, maybe? He certainly looked like it. I figured it might have had something to do with the surprise action he got from behind this time. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a first for him.

Oli, who always seemed so experience, never showed any hesitation or shyness about anything we did, surely had his boundaries too. And letting someone finger his arse surely wasn’t something he casually shared with a lot of people. What would that mean for the two of them? Noah had taken a brave step today. All I could hope was that it would open a door to more between the two of them. I knew they wanted it; they simply needed to admit it too.

Noah was still nestled into my side when Oli finally decided it was time to cuddle for him as well. There was no room for talking, not tonight. All of the unspoken things were going to be left to fester in our brains for a little while more, threatening to become more clear as the post-orgasmic haze lifted bit by bit, but I was hoping we’d be drifting off to sleep before it engulfed us. Talking was for tomorrow. No travelling, very few things on the agenda, a hometown show at night. It could wait.

Oli’s mouth was on my neck, nuzzling his nose into my hair. But this time, his warm breath was comforting instead of arousing. Until he left a much-too-hard bite on my earlobe, obnoxious as usual, and I blindly swatted at his head.

I was just about to drift off, fully comfortable sandwiched between the two men, when Oli spoke up.

“So, who fucked you better, doll, me or Noah?”

I wanted to be appalled, offended or at least pretend I was, but all that happened was that an insane giggle left my mouth, shaking my whole body until it had spread to the sides and taken Oli and Noah as well. Noah buried his head into the other side of my neck as I awkwardly slung my arm around him. Turning my face toward Oli, I grabbed onto his chin just enough to move his mouth to mine, pressing a short but heavy kiss against it.

“Guess you’ll both have to fuck me during the same evening for optimal comparisons.”

[beepersteeper]

Digits -- Astarion x Tav smut

Astarion was reading a book across camp. Nothing out of the norm. He was fidgeting with a coin aimlessly to keep his hand busy.

Tav watched completely entranced in watching the coin move so smoothly over each slender finger, being flicked into the air and caught seemingly without any attention given by Astarion. Her concentration was broken when the hand with the coin stopped and waved at her with the coin between his pointer and middle fingers. Her cheeks flushed and she sheepishly waved back mouthing “sorry. Zoned out." Across the camp. Astarion waved the thought away and continued into his studies.

Tav turned a quarter turn to face Karlach to strike up conversation to distract her from his gorgeous hands. The next day she caught herself staring again as he picked several locks throughout their adventure.

“I could teach you, if you wanted." Astarion stated right before hearing that successful click of the lock releasing “its like magic every time." 

“Huh?" She says hiding her startle

“Lock picking" he states handing her a tool set “you'll get the next one" leaving his hand on hers just longer than necessary.

The party continues along their path, when they ultimately come across a locked chest and Astarion ushered Tav to kneel in front of him. He knelt behind her, pressing his body to hers guiding her hands through the motions of the task.

“You really just have to listen and feel what the lock is saying. Figure out what is a good resistance and what is a resistance that will make you start over” he says too quietly into her ear, his cold breath caressing her skin.

When the lock clicks and falls open Astarion whispers in a husky soft tone "good girl."  And quickly stands trailing his fingers up her arm and across her shoulders before he walks away talking over his shoulder "there will be more for us to practice with.”

Back at camp for supper, Astarion seems to be constantly doing something with his hands. Twirling a dagger between his fingers, tapping his finger tips on the table. Running his finger over the rim of his glass and bringing the liquid to his lips to lick it off of his fingers, meeting Tav's eyes with his own. 

She retired first to her tent before the others saying “I'm just awfully tired. I'll see you all in the morning." A chorus of goodnights follow her to her bedroll. She ties the flap closed and rests into her bedroll, pulling out her sketchbook. Without really thinking she sketched his hands as best she can from memory. The perfectly manicured nails, the marble smooth skin, and a few thick veins covering the back. She was finishing sketching his nimble fingers and rounded knuckles on his ring finger when she hears a voice from outside her tent

“Tav, are you awake?" Astarion whispers.

Shit she whispers to herself and tucks the notebook under her stack of books “yeah, come in." she calls to him.

He ducks to get under the knot “I was hoping you were. You ran off pretty quick from dinner, everything alright?" Sitting behind her as he usually does for his supper. 

“Yeah, like I said, just tired. Those goblins really took it out of me" she half lied and I couldn't watch your fingers anymore without wanting to put them in my mouth she thought as she braided her hair off to the side opening her neck for him.

He notices the notebook to the side of the bed with a detailed image of what looks like his right hand. 

He traces a finger along the vein on her neck feeling her pulse race. He grabbed her jaw tightly, leaning her head to the side to expose her flesh completely. He slid a finger under her top to open the place even more. He rested his other hand on her thigh adding pressure and squeezing slightly as he punctured her already scared skin.

She rested her hand on top of his, relishing in the tender moment she's allowed to have with him. Feeling his hands on her.  He finishes and adds pressure to the wound with his tongue to stop the bleeding.

When he would usually let her chin go, he didn't. He instead put his thumb on her bottom lip slightly opening her mouth. “I've seen you staring.” He whispers. Tav's shoulders tense. “I've got to say. I've been told that almost every part of my body is desirable, but I think my hands…” he moves his hands from her, completely pulling the sketch book in front of her to see “is a first." 

Tav tried to fold into herself out of embarrassment only to be stopped by his strong hand returning to her jaw holding her still facing forward. "What do you want to see these fingers do?” he purrs “I know you've thought some dirty things darling, practically undressing me with your eyes at dinner.” Before she could answer he put a finger in her mouth pressing her tongue down, opening her mouth rendering her mute. “Well if you won't answer I guess I'll just have to figure it out myself.” 

He lets her close her mouth and slides two fingers in and out of her lips, making her suck on the fingers that she's watched for days. She moans, enjoying the invasion of her mouth. 

“Is that what you wanted?" He asks, knowing she still can't talk “nod." She nods moving her tongue as much as she can, feeling his fingers across her hungry tongue. 

He uses his free hand to loosen her pants and with her help shimmy them down her legs. He runs his nimble fingers across her thighs. Then he reaches across her body and drags his nails from her knee past her core and up her body grabbing a breast firmly causing her nipples to harden. “like putty in my…  well” he laughs, pulling his fingers from her mouth letting her lick each digit before he returns the two to her tongue holding it down again, holding her jaw open. 

He slid his hand down her body once more and easily inserted one, then two, then three fingers into her core. Causing her to let out warm breath and whimper from her mouth. He focuses on bringing her to climax with only his hands, the very things she's been idolizing. Arching his fingers into her hitting the spot deep inside that shoots pleasure through her core. Her breath quickens a bit and then more when he starts playing with her clit softly, barely touching her at first. And then rubbing circles into her tender flesh speeding up her breath. 

Electricity shoots through her body as she arches her back and lets out a loud moan, unable to muffle her pleasure because he had locked her jaw open. 

After she finished riding her high he brought his fingers out slowly, stings of her sex slightly hanging from his fingers. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth making sure she was watching him enjoy her taste cleaning every part of his skin that was covered in her sex, thoroughly and slowly keeping eye contact with her. He smiles as she watches him slack jawed. “Delicious. I'll see you tomorrow morning, do try not to stare too much darling." 

[cozage]

Good morning, how are you doing ?

I'd like to ask for a scenario (maybe a one shot) where the asl brothers react to a female reader being cheated on, if they're going to beat the guy up or just comfort them, maybe even confess to them

Also I'm not sure if you accept more than 3 characters but if ever

I would also like Shanks in platonic… I just see him as a father figure to the reader (you don't have to add it, the three brothers are enough)

Here, thank you for considering my request and I wish you a good day / evening

A/N: This is my first AU I hope it turns out okay???

Au: Modern day college kind of?  Idk they’re not pirates but they are still gremlins

Characters: female reader x Ace (a little?), ASL, Shanks

Cw: breakup, cheating

Total word count: 1.5k

There When You Need Us

The handle to your door begins to jiggle, but the lock stops it from turning any further. 

“Hey!” Ace yells from the other side. “Why weren’t you in class today? And you didn’t pick up on the transponder snail earlier.”

“Go away, Ace,” you yell at him from under the covers. The last thing you need is for him to rub it in your face about how right he was about your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. 

“Just tell me what’s going on!” He starts to bang on the door, and you groan. 

You’re about to get out of bed and let him in, but the banging comes to a sudden halt, and there’s silence outside your door. Then, you hear the soft click of the lock releasing, and the door springs open. Ace stands in the door frame, grinning mischievously with a hairpin in his hand. 

His face falls when he sees your puffy eyes and the tissues strewn throughout your bed. 

“What happened?” He asks, walking over to your bed and sitting on the edge, his face full of concern. 

“I don’t want to hear it, Ace.” Your voice is raw from crying so much. “I don’t need you rubbing it in my face, okay?”

“Rubbing what in your face? What are you talking about?” You can by his expression, he genuinely doesn’t know. Belmeppo must’ve kept it hush. Couldn’t have him ruining his parent’s perfect image of their perfect family. 

“Bel. He-” your voice catches in your throat, and you don’t want to say it out loud. Saying out loud makes it real.

But Ace finishes the sentence. “He cheated on you, didn’t he? That bastard.” His words evoke another round of tears, sobs escaping your lips. 

“He said he never loved me,” you sobbed, turning back into your pillow to muffle the sounds. “He was just using me.”

Ace was quiet for a few minutes, letting you cry as much as you needed to. His heart ached seeing you so broken over some stupid guy. You deserved someone so much better than anyone in this small-minded town. You deserved someone who would hang the sun and the moon and all of the stars around you. 

“Sabo? Luffy? It’s Ace.”

“What does she need? Medicine? Water? Takeout food?” Sabo’s voice came from the other side of the transponder snail, and you froze. 

“Revenge.” Ace’s voice was dark and ominous, and you could hear Luffy cheering on the other side of the transponder. His excitement almost made you laugh. 

Ace got off the bed and stood next to your pillow. He patted your head gently, running his fingers through your hair 

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle, you thought you imagined it. 

“Ace, don’t-” you got up to stop him, but he was already out the door, softly closing it behind him. 

--

After a few minutes, you heard your door open again. 

“What did you-” You stopped when you realized it wasn’t Ace. 

“Hey kiddo,” Shanks whispered, peeking in. “I know I said I wouldn’t bother you, but…” He pushed the door open a bit more, holding a mug of hot chocolate. “Can I come in?”

You nod, wiping your face to remove any stray tears, though it didn’t do much good. Your eyes were still red and swollen from a day of crying, but your adopted father didn’t comment on that. He simply handed off the mug and sat on your bed next to you, waiting for you to start the conversation. 

You take a long sip of hot chocolate, allowing the warmth to rush through your body. “Don’t say I told you so.”

A smile dances across Shank’s face. “I wasn’t going to.”

“Mmmmhmmm.” You take another long drink of hot chocolate, whipped cream tickling your nose. 

“There’s a time for that,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to him. “But now is the time for hot chocolate and hugs.”

Your vision starts to get blurry again, and you wipe away the tears forming in your eyes. You take another drink, trying desperately to refocus yourself and keep calm. 

“Do you know where Ace went?”

Shanks laughed and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Probably best you don’t know.”

You groaned. “He’s going to get arrested.”

“Only if he gets caught. And if he does what I told him, he won’t.”

You shoot him a look. “What did you tell him to do, dad?”

“Already told you.” He gave you another kiss. “Probably best you don’t know.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re all just a bunch of troublemakers, I swear.”

“Hey now,” Ace said, walking back into your room. “What’s wrong with making some trouble?”

You smiled when you saw him, the first real one you’ve had today. Sabo and Luffy walk in behind him, smiling proudly. They’re all breathing heavily, and their skin is glistening with sweat. 

“You should’ve seen it, Y/N!” Luffy cried out, pumping his fist in the air. “We totally-”

Sabo pounced on Luffy, covering his mouth before he could spill out any more information. “We’re not supposed to tell her, idiot. Keep your mouth shut!”

“Fine, fine!” Luffy giggled mischievously. “She’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

You groaned at that statement. “Why can’t you guys just make my life easier for once?”

“Because,” Ace walked over and sat on the other side of you. He looked at your face and frowned, then wiped the whipped cream off your nose with his finger. “That’d be a boring life. And we’re not boring.”

Shanks took this moment to take his leave from your room, satisfied that the brothers would keep you adequate company. “Do any of you want hot chocolate?”

“Me!” They all yelled in unison, and Shanks left the room to fulfill the request. 

Sabo sifted through your game drawer, pulling out UNO. It was a game the four of you frequently played at your house, and it felt comforting to fall into some kind of normalcy. After you all got tired of screaming about cards, Sabo picked up the remote and flicked on the TV, and you all found a funny movie to watch to pass the time. 

The brothers stayed with you long into the night. Normally once the sun started to dip below the mountain, Shanks sent them home, but tonight he was generous in letting them stay. He could hear you laughing in your room, which was more than worth the call he’d have to make to Dadan about her boys being home late. 

The four of you were curled up in your bed and watching a movie when Shanks appeared in your doorway, and you felt your heart sink a little at his facial expression. He always wore the same look when he was about to disappoint you. 

“Do you three want to stay over? It’s a bit late to head back up the mountain, but it’s about time for bed. Class tomorrow for everyone,” he said, eyeing you. 

“Sleep over!” The boys yelled in unison. They were always on the same page.

“In the other room,” Shanks said sternly. It didn’t escape his gaze that you were resting your head against Ace’s chest, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. You hadn’t seemed to notice or mind it, but Ace’s cheeks turned pink when he realized he had been caught. 

“We can all fit in this bed!” Luffy said defiantly. “And we’ll go straight to sleep! Pleaseeeeee!”

Shanks laughed and shook his head. “Come on boys, your options are the guest bedroom or a hike up the mountain.”

Ace quickly got up, and he and Sabo pulled Luffy out of the room along with them. With all of the noise and bodies gone, you suddenly felt very empty and alone. You hadn’t thought about Belmeppo since the brothers had joined you, but now it was all you could think about. You were tired of crying, so when the tears started to come, you refused to let them spill out of your eyes. 

You laid down, trying to sleep, but the dream world refused to take you. You tossed and turned for several minutes, until you heard your transponder snail ringing softly next to your head. 

You let it ring a few times, scared of who it might be. But finally curiosity got the better of you, and you picked up. 

“I told you she’d pick up!” Sabo’s voice echoed through the speaker, and you could hear his muffled voice from the other room. 

“Shhhh! Shanks will hear us!” Ace scolded, and you giggled at them. 

Ace’s voice softened when he spoke to you. “We can’t be with you, but at least we can fall asleep together.” 

“Yeah,” Sabo agreed. “We’ll always be there when you need us.”

“Thanks, you guys.” You curled up next to your snail transponder, falling asleep to their bickering and random spoken thoughts. 

[sassykio4fun]

Competition

Cocky!StreetRacer Tom Kaulitz x StreetRacer!FemReader

The ground vibrated under the spectators feet, they all held their breaths, watching in anticipation. Palms clammy, as they held tight onto the icy railing of the bleachers, leaning over to get a better view.

Their sights locked onto the two cars taking the lead. Just as they were the previous rounds around the track.

A Porsche as dark as the night sky can be seen speeding towards the white markings of the track for the third and final time. Golden- Yellow Ferrari hot on its heels.

Both vehicles neck to neck the whole of the race. One car would override the other, only for the other to take over only moments later.

Seconds before the finish line, the Porsche accelerated, Ferrari following right after, just a second too late.

A checkered flag waved high in the air, indicating the finish of the race.

Both cars slowed to a stop beside another. Grey smoke clear in the night sky, the smell of burnt rubber strong in the air.

A man with long brown locks trudged towards the dark Porsche, envelope tight in his fist, as the winner stepped out.

The glossy door opened, a leather covered hand moving to the top of the door. Out stepped the tall figure of Tom Kaulitz, a smug smirk on his face. Dressed head to toe in his usual dark attire.

"You come in first once again, Kaulitz." Georg praised, patting Tom's broad shoulder. "This is what, the fourth time this month?"

Tom grinned, "Uhuh, I plan to make it the fifth time next week." He answered, proudly taking the envelope from Georg's outstretched hand.

"We'll have to see about that, that Ferrari was coming in pretty close, Bill chose a good one, don't you think? The shorter boy questioned, glancing back at said car, who's owners yet to step out.

"Pshh, not a chance, where'd he find him from anyway?" Tom retorted, teeth pinching the tip of his leather glove, tearing it off to count the money, making sure it's all there.

Georg opened his mouth to reply, "Well he is actually a-"

"I agree with Georg, you might have some competition, Tom, everyone was clenching their asscheeks watching you both race." Gustav interrupted Georg, walking up to the boys, handing Tom a bottle of water.

The boy snatched the water bottle, shrugging as he chugged the water. "Yeah, whatever you guys say." He rolled his eyes, shoving the water into Gustavs chest, watching his brother skip his way over.

"Soooo what'd you think of the new racer, pretty good huh?" Bill grinned eagerly when he reached them, excited that his brother had competition after so long.

"I think he's alright, nothing special, nothing new." Tom's dark eyes moved behind the three boys, eyes on the girl's stood on the bleachers.

"Nothing new?" Bill's eyebrows furrowed. "That's the closest anyone has gotten to your car in months Tom, and he is a she for gods-" His last few words being overridden by shrill shrieks and rushed shuffling of heels making their way over.

Tom relished in the girl's compliments as they hung off of him, both hands firm on two of their behinds as he leant against the hood of his car.

The tall boy scanned the array of girls in tiny shirts and short skirts, contemplating which one to take back home for the night.

He then heard a slam of a door to his right, turning his head, he attempted to look over the many girls surrounding his hood. Only to end up faced with his brother's slim back, him embracing someone.

Furrowing his dark eyebrows, he sat up to see who was in his twin's arms. When his brother let go of the unknown person, taking a step back, he was faced with- a girl?

His brows knitted as he thought for a second. 'I was racing a girl this whole time?' He took in your form, hair wild from the intense race, a leather jacket over a black halter top, skulls on each breast, denim jeans over leather combat boots.

Snapping out of his confusion he stood up straight, pulling himself out of the girl's embrace before trudging his way towards you and Bill.

"You did so good out there, I'm so glad you decided to come." Your dear friend Bill praised, pressing you against his bony chest.

"Me too, even though I'm a little bummed that I didn't beat your tool of a brother." You responded, pursing your lips at his victory as Bill let go of you.

Bill threw his head back, letting out a snicker, a mix of black and white dreads falling down his back. "I love him, but I can't lie, I'm a little bummed too, I was excited to see him get his ass kicked." He murmured, when his eyes lit up.

"But there's always next week, you might just get him then." He smirked.

"Who might get who?" A voice suddenly came from behind Bill.

Turning your head towards the voice, you recognized the boy with cornrows as Bill's brother. Your eyes meeting his dark ones, a cocky smirk on his face, as expected.

"Ah, speaking of the devil, we were just talking about your win, once again." Bill chimed, "This is the new racer I brought here, I thought she would be a good addition to the upcoming races, we hadn't had great competition in a while." He smiled, introducing you.

Squeezing your arm, he wandered off, explaining that he had to have a discussion with Georg about future races, but not before giving Tom a warning glare, 'Be nice' is the only way to describe the look he sent.

Tom nodded, testing out your name on his tongue "You think so?" He questioned you, eyes going over the Ferrari you were leaning on.

You lowered your eyes, lost "Do I think... what?" You retorted.

He sniffled, looking down, "You think you're good competition?" He rephrased his question, looking back up.

Your eyebrows shot up, eyes boring into his. "I think I did pretty good on the track." You butted in, crossing your arms. "Do you not?"

He shrugged his shoulders, eyes meeting yours. "I think you were pretty decent, just as good as everyone else out there." He retorted, crossing his arms himself.

"Just as good?" You inquired. "They were meters behind the both of us, let's not play dumb." You stated, giving him a once over. "I was not even seconds behind you."

Head lifting towards the sky as if he was in thought he hummed, "I don't recall, even then I'm still going home with the money." He simpered. "Once again." He added cockily, head tilting down towards your own.

Your chin shot up, nose scrunched. "You're not unbeatable, Tom." You started. "You'll meet your match and you won't feel so cocky then."

"I'm presuming that you think you're my match." He laughed through his nose, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes, stepping back, hand going to your door handle. "Close enough and the race showed that today, ask your own brother." You argued, turning towards Bill who was a few feet away, looking as if he was in a debate with Gustav.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, there's many races to come." You finished, entering your car, not breaking eye contact until your door shut.

Tinted windows blocking his view of you, he tilted his head, watching your car exit the tracks with one thought running through his mind. 'Maybe I have met my match.'

Hello! Hope you enjoyed this.🎀

divider by @benkeibear