#something i really love about her is how different she is from michael

[p0lyn3sian]

Can you please do slashers x s/o who owns a cat who's getting chubbier? This is based on my cat ever since I made him try a different brand of cat food, he likes it too much that he eat more than 3 times a day 😓

Also idk it you take anons

- 😾 anon

OMGGG CHUBBY CATS ARE SUCH CUTIESS!! I've always wanted a cat, but living in houses/apartments that's rented sucks😔. Since most of the houses & apartments I moved in don't allow cats or dogs.. And yes I do take anons!

Slashers: Norman, Carrie, Sinclair brothers, Patrick, Chucky & Tiffany, Jason, OG Michael, Billy & Stu, Billy Lenz & Brahms, Thomas & Bubba, The Lost Boys, & Hannibal & Will!!

(I was about to put RZ Michael, but then I remembered he ate a dog, so he'll probably eat the cat too 😭.)

Slashers x S/O that owns a chubbier cat!

Norman:

Norman noticed that your cat got much bigger! He asked you if this was normal feeding him three times a day. You said that it was normal, but he has to lose some weight, because he's becoming too big for some stuff, like his bed, etc!

He loves your cat so much though! It doesn't matter if he's chubby or skinny! He also loves feeding your cat treats, so he got really big the past few days. Over all Norman loves your cat, and that he brings comfort to him too! Norman loves to cuddle with you and your cat during rainy days or really cold winter days!

Carrie:

Carrie has been feeding your cat too! So she noticed that your cat is getting fatter, which means he's eating well! Carrie loves him so much, because of his chubbiness and how your cat is just too cute for Carrie to resist!

Carrie has tried to not feed him too much, because cats can get really lazy if they're too fat and not being energetic enough. If Carrie doesn't feed your cat, your cat will be bugging both you and Carrie for food and treats, which makes Carrie tear up because she doesn't want to make your cat too fat and how he keeps pawing at Carrie's legs! Which you ended up letting Carrie feed him since you felt bad for both of them!

Sinclair Brothers: (Bo, Vincent, & Lester)

The Sinclair brothers were really surprised that your cat got chubbier! Bo thinks your cat needs to lose weight, Vincent thinks your cat is fine, and Lester thinks that your cat is a cuddly squishy pet!

Your cat is like a comforter for Vincent! Vincent has been petting him and feeding him, and your cat loves hanging out with Vincent because of his quietness. Your cat also loves hanging out with Lester because of his playfulness! Lester would squish your cat's chubby belly, his cheeks, anywhere where his body is chubby! Your cat thinks Bo is a scary man, because of his angry face he always has. But once your cat gets really comfortable with Bo, your cat will be bugging him for cuddles in no time!

Patrick:

Patrick thinks your cat needs to lose weight. Sometimes Patrick gets ticked off when your cat keeps on meowing for food, or for something else. Patrick doesn't like pets, because pets are always messy. Patrick's ego is sometimes ruined from how messy your cat leaves behind, whether it's from eating, drinking, or getting out of the cat litter..

You've told Patrick that he'll have to learn to love your cat! Patrick didn't believe you because he doesn't like your cat leaving behind messes. So, it took this up-tight man a few weeks to like your cat. Your cat would make him feel better by sitting on his lap while sleeping. Your cat would make Patrick laugh from you playing with him and his toys!

Chucky & Tiffany:

Chucky is not really a big fan of pets, but Tiffany is! Tiffany thinks your cat is so adorable, his purring is what makes Tiffany love him even more! Chucky thinks your cat is okay, just a few pats here and there but nothing much. Tiffany loves feeding your cat treats because of how he'll always head butt his bowl to her! Chucky would also feed him treats whenever you ask him if he can, and he'll also pet him after once you get his treats!

Sometimes you and Tiffany would see Chucky sleeping on the couch with your cat on his lap. Tiffany would coo at how adorable they both look, and she would definitely take a few pictures with you in it for memories! Chucky and Tiffany don't care if your cat is chubby, they both love to cuddle with him!

Jason:

Jason would always carry your cat around the cabin! Your cat loves being carried around by Jason or you, so he wouldn't have to walk around and just lay on you or Jason's arms! Your cat would always look for Jason, because he either wants to be carried around or just sleep on his lap while getting head rubs while going to sleep.

Jason loves to feed your cat while you are doing something or you're at work! Jason feels really bad when he feeds your cat too much, because he thinks that you're going to be angry at him. Bless his big heart, because you would never be mad at him! You said to Jason that it was okay to feed him more, but you'll have to try other ways to get your cat to be a little more energetic!

OG Michael:

Michael thought your cat was pregnant. You told Michael that your cat is a male, and your cat tends to eat more because of his favorite food you always bring. Sometimes your cat would be on Michael's lap and just sleep, while Michael is stiff as a board so that he doesn't try moving and wake up your cat.

Whenever Michael gets back from his killings, he'll see that your cat is by the window waiting for him! Michael has been giving your cat head pats and rubs, but not a lot of cuddles since he's not really a cuddly person. Which is fine since your cat likes getting pats and rubs from Michael and cuddles from you!

Billy & Stu:

Billy is not really a cat lover, because he thinks all cats scratch you whenever they want. But your cat is different from other cats, and that is your cat is a lazy house cat. Billy likes to look at what your cat likes to do, so mostly what Billy has seen that your cat has done is just sleeping and eating!

Stu loves petting your cat! Stu will squish your cat's cheeks, tummy, and probably his arms too! Stu would definitely give your cat so many treats because of how cute he is, and he would also try and cuddle with your cat while going to sleep! While you are gone doing something or at work, Billy and Stu would be calling you so many times saying that your cat's favorite food is all gone! Billy and Stu will also try to get your cat moving around the house since he's been getting a little fatter!

Billy Lenz & Brahms:

Now there's two cats in the house to feed! Billy's cat and your cat! Billy's cat is a female and her name is Penny! Penny loves to cuddle by him when she's cold or she just wants to sleep! Billy loves to squish your cat and cuddle with him and his cat!

Brahms thinks that you'll have more mouths to feed! Brahms thought your cat is like Billy's cat, because she likes to scratch Brahms' arms, legs, or literally anywhere. But Brahms examined your cat for a little bit. Brahms saw how your cat is always sleeping in the sunlight or either sleeping on your lap or Billy's! So Brahms decided to carry your cat just like Billy's cat, and your cat seemed to just let Brahms hold him! So Brahms has a new favorite cat to cuddle with!

Thomas & Bubba:

Thomas and Bubba have never had pets, so seeing a really chubby cat makes them interested in what he does! Thomas and Bubba would always see your cat sleeping on mama Luda's rocking chair or either somewhere in the house where there's sunlight! These two would also see your cat getting head pats and rubs from uncle Hoyt or Drayton! Nubbins and Chop-top would do weird stuff to the cat that would eventually leave scratches on their faces for bothering your cat..

Mama Luda would carry your cat around and feed him when she has time! Hoyt just tells you that your cat needs to lose weight.. Thomas and Bubba would be able to help you and your cat! After these two saw what your cat likes to do, they started caring for him too! Thomas would feed him before washing his hands, because he's been chopping up meat for the family in the basement! Bubba would be playing with him and his chicken, Mr. Waddles! Waddles tend to poke your cat with his peak and which your cat just sleeps through it. Bubba would also put on dresses that he made for Waddles and your cat, and play dress up!

The Lost Boys: (David, Dwayne, Paul, & Marko)

All four of them think your cat is going to scratch them! David was the first to examine if he's going to scratch, so he poked your cat to see if he was going to react. Your cat was asleep so of course not he wouldn't even react! You found all of them poking your cat, which made you pissed because clearly they don't see that your cat is trying to sleep!

You told them after telling them to stop poking your cat, that your cat is a lazy house cat so he's not really a verocious cat. But your cat will scratch them if they keep on poking him like that. So seeing that the boys understand why your cat didn't react, they all started petting and rubbing him! They all took turns on who gets to feed and who gets to pet and cuddle with your cat! They also said whoever feeds your cat gets to cuddle with you too!

Hannibal & Will:

When you first showed them your chubby cat, Hannibal and Will asked you questions if it was normal for your cat to look like that. You replied yes, but since your cat doesn't like walking, he's just a lazy house cat! Hannibal has been around dogs so he knows a lot of things about them. Same with Will, his special animals are his 7 dogs! Will's 7 dogs love to sniff around your cat and just examine him.

Will's dogs boop their noses at your cat, seeing that your cat is still sleeping, they'll leave your cat alone until he wakes up! Once your cat wakes up Will's dogs will be licking, sniffing, and booping their noses at your cat! Hannibal would pet your cat while he's in his recliner reading a book! Will would definitely sleep with you, your cat, Hannibal, and his dogs in one big bed! Over all, all of them love your cat and you!

[atlas-five]

thinking about helen distortion again

[isa-loves-you]

♡Michael Schmidt has a crush♡

You were a sophomore in college, even though you live in an apartment off campus you still visited your mom almost everyday to check on her and to eat.

One night while you were visiting your mom she brought up the people who lived a couple of houses down "the young man knocked on my door this morning, asking if I would or If i knew someone who can babysit his sister at night". The reason why she brought this up is because you were looking for a job, with being a college student you needed the money and nights were perfect since you only have three classes a week. "He's a cutie, he would be perfect for you" you mom called out as she walked into the other room "cute doesn't matter I just need a job".

It's been almost a month since you started watching abby. She was the best kid you have ever babysat for, and she loved you which made your job so much easier.

"Hey y/n, can I ask you a question" "what is it abs" you stopped coloring to look at her. "Will you marry Mike, so you can live here and I can see you everyday"

You were a bit taken back by the question, how did she know that you liked mike?. "I'm really flattered that you want to see me everyday, but I don't think your brother likes me like that" you flashed her a smile to ease the tension but she just shrugged her shoulders and went back to drawing.

Ever since you started watching abby you found yourself infatuated with Mike. He wasn't a very open person but for some reason mike would open up to you, your mom was right he was a cutie.

It was almost midnight until you heard keys jingle and the front door unlock. Mike threw his keys on the small table by the door before looking for you. "Hey I made peanut butter stir fry, do you want me to make you a plate" you asked while already making a B-line to the kitchen."oh no it's okay, I can get it myself you already do almost everything here" you turned to Mike grabbing his arm and pulling him to the table "oh please making a plate is not going to hurt me, now please sit down".

Mike sat down and watched you shuffle around the kitchen to make him some to eat. Mike would never admit to himself but he liked having you around, he loved that abby adored you, sometimes he thimks she likes you more than him. He really wouldn't know what he would do without you, you now became his reason to get up everyday, too look nice, and too be happy.

After mike ate he walked you to your car while talking to you "I get my paycheck tomorrow so would it be okay if you stopped by after class to pick it up?" "Yeah no problem I'll stop by around 6". You stod there justing looking into his eyes, even though Michael's face told a story of a hard life, his eyes showed compassion. You would be a fool to not fall in love with him.

Once you left, Mike got ready for bed. He took the pills he always takes, replayed the tape he always plays, and looked at the Nebraska poster he always falls asleep looking at, but something was different. You were the only thing he could think about before the sleeping pills kicked in.

His dream started out like it always does, his mom spills her coke and tells him to keep track of Garrett. As soon as he sees Garrett in the back of a strangers Cadillac he takes Chace after it. No matter how hard he runs, he can never catche up with the mysterious car.

Mike stops to put his hands on his knees and catches his breath. Giggling. He hears Giggling.

Mike looks back up to now see a field of grass. This wasn't his dream, this is different from his normal nightmares. There in the field stood a happy abby, laughing holding hands with a happier y/n. Mike feels his heart pick up speed.

"Mike!" Abby ran towards her big brother with open arms. Mike catches his sister while y/n walked twords the two of them. He flashes a smile in y/n's direction "I've missed you mike", you kiss his cheak and hug the siblings tight . If he didn't known that this was a dream he would have thought that he died and went to heaven.

"Mike Wake up, I'm hungry". Abby jumps up and down on her brothers bed until she hears him grown,"okay okay abby give me a minute". He stands up and makes his way to the bathroom while abby returns back to the living room where she watches her cartoons and color.

Once mike sets abbys plate in front of her she immediately digs in. "Abby would you be okay if I started to date someone?", the young girl replies without even thinking about it "only if its y/n, she likes you". Mike looked at his sister shocked "well who else would it be, because I like her too" he says trying to play it like he knew this whole time.

It was almost 8 when you entered the house and abby ran up to give you a hug. "Hey hun I'm sorry my class ran later, I tried to call but no one answered" Mike came out of abbys bedroom with a relieved yet anxious look on his face. "Abby go to your room, I need to talk to y/n about grown up stuff" she looks at you with big eye to try to get you to let her stay "it will only take one minute, I'll come in there to say goodnight before I go".

Abby walked to her room with a sad and betrayed face. "Um here's you're payment, you'll be here tomorrow right" "Yeah, couldn't miss it for the world.".There it was, your smile. Oh how he couldn't wait any longer once he seen your million dollar smile.

"I know this might be sudden and very out of line, but could we maybe go out sometime"

You were surprised. "Yeah that sounds great, I would love to" you were stumbling over your words a little bit from being flustered. You two stood there with awkward smiles on your face, if you weren't in his house you would have been screaming from happiness.

"I better go say goodnight to abby before I go it's getting late" you stepped closer to Mike to get to the bedroom. "Y/n '' before you could respond to him, he placed his hand on the back of your ear and placed his lips upon yours.

It felt like a thousand minutes passed by in those five seconds, and you didn't want it to end. It wouldn't have ended if a certain someone spoke up.

"Yay I was right, y/n does like you mike!"

[havrlie]

two is better than one

boyfriend!alexis ness x fem!reader x michael kaiser

cw: cheating, semi-toxic/unhealthy relationship, established relationship, penetration (p in v, p in a), double penetration, threesome (fmm) anal sex, double creampie (basically triple lol), multiple orgasms reader is implied to be curvy wc: 1.3k

not proofread, wrote in one go...

ness is a sweetheart, simply put; he'd do anything for the people he loves, he's extremely loyal, compassionate, caring—anything you could think of, really. he's always been good to you, he always will be, no matter the consequences.

though, at times, it is a bit suffocating to be around him.

he's constantly checking up on you, always so clingy, trying to be with you all of the time, and more. it's not that you don't appreciate his kind gestures—you do—but he is annoying, too much so.

you do love him. he means everything to you, but sometimes you just need a little more spice in your life: something more interesting, different.

that's how kaiser is. he's different, nothing like ness. he's cold, arrogant, egotistical—anything a woman would hate in a man, yet to you, he's always been attractive.

you could tell he found you attractive, too. he'd always give you some side glances, little winks, some not so casual touching. you enjoyed the attention you got from him.

the attention you got form kaiser felt so, so nice, yet so wrong. you have a boyfriend, for god's sake.

but would it really be cheating if you didn't love him? kaiser, that is.

it's ness, your sweetheart of a boyfriend that you loved, not the scumbag kaiser.

sure, you liked him, his actions, his touches, but you didn't love him.

so, in your head, what you're doing is fine.

you may in your and ness' bed, in your guys' apartment, getting your precious body fucked by another man, but you don't love him, you love ness.

"mmm.. michael—" you moaned against kaiser's shoulder, his arms under your back, holding you up a bit, his balls slapping against you. he exhaled at just about every thrust, your tight walls sucking his dick in.

he bit his lip, keeping a potential moan to slip past his lips, his pace fastening by a bit. all you could hear were gaps and slip slapping against one another, with the faint sound of a tv playing.

your and ness' bed was messed up, pillowcases hanging off the pillows, your blanket all the way in the floor, but it wasn't too-too messy.

kaiser gripped your skin, as his dick twitched inside you, feeling his orgasm close. "michael, fuck—don't—ah!" you felt his thick ropes of cum fill up your vaginal walls. his head fell a bit against your shoulder, gasping slightly.

you were too, a soft moan escaping you. his hands loosened his grip on you, pushing you up as he took his arms off from behind you.

ness would always be loud and open when he'd come home to see you. always yelling an, "i'm home!" before going to find you. yet, this time, he only stood in the midst of your doorway.

it's embarrassing how you or kaiser didn't notice him until he spoke.

"kaiser?"

you were shook out of your trance of ecstasy, pushing kaiser away from blocking your view.

"alex, baby, i—"

kaiser turned around to see his "friend," the woman who he just fucked, boyfriend. he held a cocky smirk on his face. before you could finish your sentence, kaiser spoke, "i didn't think you'd be here this early."

ness had an unreadable expression on his face. was he upset? angry? confused? you couldn't tell.

"you were supposed to wait for me..." his voice nor expression seemed to hold any sort of anger or sadness.

"huh?" you held a confused expression on your face. what did he mean 'wait for me?'

kaiser gave your shoulder a small smack. "couldn't resist her, ness. you understand, right? she's your girl." his hands traveled along your curves, feeling at your breasts for a moment, while he looked at ness.

ness had undoubting loyalty and respect for kaiser, that's a fact. he only nodded in response, walking up to the bed where you and kaiser laid at.

ness glanced over your body, his hand reaching out as he took a seat, touching your cheek before gliding down to your neck.

"would you be fine taking both of us, baby?

your eyes widened. it's not like you couldn't—well, maybe—but...

"i just wanted to try something new," ness spoke, looking into your eyes, waiting for conformation. you nodded, seeing kaiser's infamous smirk from the corner of your eye.

it took just a few moments before you were settled between kaiser and ness. ness was punctured in front of you, kaiser behind you.

you were lubed well, hoping it' be enough. kaiser held onto your waist, ness' hands were just above his.

"you ready, baby?" ness asked, his mushroom tip prying at your entrance, slightly moving against you. "mhm, yeah," you held onto ness, your arms thrown over his shoulders.

ness' dick was fairly long, but his girth held over—6' and a half. you could feel his thick cock entering your walls, a small wave of pleasure arousing in you.

while on the other hand, kaiser's dick held in both girth and length. you could feel your asshole being stretched out, a small—yet sharp—sense of pain shot through your behind.

"a-ah!" your nails gripped ness' shoulders, feeling kaiser's member go deeper inside your anus. the lube helped, slightly, but it still hurt. it's not like you and ness haven't ever done anal, but it's on the lower side.

"shh, baby, it'll be okay," ness soothed you, his cock furthering inside your vagina, letting some kisses fall to your neck. your head hit his shoulders, trying to relax, to let the pleasure overtake the pain.

it took a few moments before you felt comfortable—or the very least, more—to continue, nodding against ness' shoulder. you could feel his member move inside you: slowly going in and out, but not too far out, still keeping some length inside you.

kaiser's movements were surprisingly slow and even a bit nurturing. he didn't start off as fast—yet not fast—paced as ness did, but his aggressiveness stayed advent. your pathetic moans could be heard against ness' shoulder, almost directly into his ears.

you bit your lip, trying to hold back some tears from the stretch in your asshole. kaiser took the hint to be more gentle, with a slight pinch from ness.

"yeah, see that, good girl? you're doing so well," ness cooed, his movements fastening slightly, you moaned in response, a slight nip to his shoulder before feeling kaiser do the same.

the pain in your behind seemed to subside for the time being, but still evident a bit.

you couldn't comprehend what was even happening around you due to the immense amount of pleasure and the slightest of pain you felt. slowly but surely, the boy's motions were in sync, feeling ness hit your g-spot you cried out.

kaiser smirked at such, his hips becoming more aggressive, skin slapping against skin was all you could hear. "fuck," kaiser groaned, his head almost hitting your shoulder, biting his lip, his movements continued.

ness' were also more erratic now, his slightly curve dick hitting your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. you could've sworn you've had a few orgasms by now.

all the sounds coming from you were a mixture of gibberish and moans, drool seeping out of your mouth and onto ness' shoulder.

"so fuckin' tight, ah—" kaiser whispered, one of his hands unhooking from your waist to grab your hair and pull your head up against him and away from ness.

his teeth dug into your neck, sucking a love mark into your skin before pulling away to make another, his cock jerking in and out of your ass. ness' hips became more aggressive as he rode his orgasm out.

"oh, oh, fuck, baby..." he whimpered, his head thrown back a bit, now. his dick twitched inside of you, his hot cum filling your pussy up with each thrust he took. you felt your own, moaning out, nailing at ness' shoulders.

kaiser's orgasm was just as close, he halted inside your ass, letting his cum fill you up just as much as ness' did.

you can't deny that you haven't dreamt of this.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 7.

Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable

A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.

It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.

But there was something different about yesterday.

"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.

Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.

"Maybe." Unhelpful.

"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.

"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.

"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."

"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."

"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.

"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.

"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.

"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -

"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.

"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.

"You're hot too, Farleigh -"

"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.

Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.

And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.

Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.

"So -"

"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.

Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.

And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.

Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.

He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.

He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.

He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.

When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.

Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.

Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -

"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -

"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.

Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.

It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.

It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.

More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.

Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.

Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.

There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.

"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.

"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.

"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.

"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.

"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.

"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.

"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.

"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.

"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.

"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.

"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.

"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.

"That's different -"

"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.

"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.

"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.

Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.

Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.

But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.

Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.

Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.

Fuck.

No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.

But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.

"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.

Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.

"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.

"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.

"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.

"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."

"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."

He's never been inside your room at night.

It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.

"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -

He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.

"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."

Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.

You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."

"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.

"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."

"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."

"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.

"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.

"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"

"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.

"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.

When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.

"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”

"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."

This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.

"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.

"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.

"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -

Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.

But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.

"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.

"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."

"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.

"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.

"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.

Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.

"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.

"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.

"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.

You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.

When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.

"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.

"Ollie~"

For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.

"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.

But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.

How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.

When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.

There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.

But it doesn't last.

It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.

Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.

"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?

"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.

"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.

"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.

Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.

"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."

"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.

"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.

"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.

"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -

"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."

Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.

"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."

"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;

"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.

Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.

"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.

You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.

"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.

"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -

"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."

But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.

Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.

"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.

In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.

"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.

"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.

There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.

"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -

"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.

Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-

"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.

"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"

"It's disgusting, Felix."

"It's fine."

"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.

Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.

Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.

That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.

In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.

"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.

"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"

Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?

Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.

Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.

"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.

"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.

A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.

Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.

With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.

And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Multimuse x Fem!Reader - Muses as tropes

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of killing, nothing explicit but a little nsfw. I don’t know if there’s more.

Type: Blerps

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: The muses’ as some tropes! Maybe they don’t all fit as accurately but maybe I’ll do another one (?) idk lmk if they work or not.

Notes: I didn’t proofread anything. I don’t know if I’ll keep this up (?)

Jason Voorhees:

Fish out of water- Reader isn’t outdoorsy at all, forced to get a job during summer while college classes are out, they apply to camp crystal lake. The reader has a really hard time fitting in with the rest of the camp counselors, mainly for not knowing the processes of camp or how to handle equipment. One by one counselors go missing, often found in gruesome circumstances. One counselor takes a liking to the reader, when reader doesn’t reciprocate, the hazing gets worse. Eventually the reader meets Jason, learning the history of camp crystal lake, reader sympathizes with him. Jason goes on a rampage when he finds out about the hazing/bullying, until the reader is the only one left.

Michael Myers:

Grump and sunshine- More than likely met at the asylum Michael is incarcerated in. Reader learns about Michael’s past and struggles then decides to be his sunshine. Reader has the mentality of “I could fix him” but often is let down by his gruesome actions. Somehow Micheal is still drawn to the reader and does have a little bit of an obsessive bodyguard mentality. Reader is constantly kissing Michael and being affectionate. She’s the only one to get a non violent reaction from him.

Tiffany Valentine:

Wants different things- Reader wants to pursue Tiffany, but she just wants something casual. Reader spends time trying to impress her and make her realize they are the one. Tiffany could just want to date or go out every other day/the reader is not on her mind/ maybe she goes back and forth with chucky. Reader goes out of way to make Tiffany fall in love with them and stay with them.

Billy Loomis:

Unrequited love- Reader falls in love with Billy, going out of their way to help them and spend time with them but can’t help but be jealous of Sydney for being with Billy. Listens to him about all of his relationship issues, eventually learning of his double life as ghostface. Reader goes out of her way to cover up his crimes and eventually has to make a choice of whether or not to admit her feelings to him after taking the fall for one of his mistakes. Once the reader is detained, they have to hope that Stu or Billy could kill again to get them out of jail.

Stu Macher:

Popular boy x shy girl- Reader doesn’t go to parties much in fear of being made fun of or taken advantage of, until Stu meets them in class. After consistently pestering reader to skip class or hang out after school, reader eventually does so. With time they both become great friends, Stu takes the reader under his wing. He invites her to parties and even with the attention he receives, none of them are her.

Patrick Bateman:

Fake relationship- Patrick uses reader to make his ex fiancé jealous, he helps the reader appear more accomplished, spoils them to look their best. Fake dates turn into real ones, handing the reader gifts becomes surprising the reader with them. Once the readers eyes begin to wander, Patrick’s back is against the wall to admit to the reader that he doesn’t want her to be with anyone else.

Leatherface:

Love at first sight- Reader for some reason visits the farm and bubba falls in love with her immediately. He’s dumbfounded and clumsily follows her around the farm. Reader doesn’t understand but over time she gets to know him. Bubba spends his time picking flowers and trying to find a way to make her a mask. He mourns when she’s gone but when she comes back he’s all over her again.

Harley Quinn:

Amnesia- Reader and Harley wake up in a basement, tied together and without any resources. At first they start to bicker, wondering who got the other in this situation. Without any source of light or anyone to hear their cries, they start to get to know each other. After hours, they try to break loose to no avail, forcing them to continue their forced friendship. Eventually Harley forces herself out of the restraints, making the decision to break the reader free even with the danger of being caught. As they try to escape, they begin to retrace their steps and learn what led them to their initial predicament.

Poison Ivy:

Love potion- Ivy experiments with reader by trying her love potion with them. Of course it starts to work and now the reader is disgustingly lovesick and wants nothing but to be loved by Ivy. Ivy loves the attention and dedication but eventually comes to terms with the fact that this could be just the love potion. Ivy has to come up with a cure and after she does and gives it to the reader, the reader still loves Ivy.

Bruce Wayne:

Too dumb to live- Reader always ends up in dangerous situations, even without trying. ‘Batman’ or ‘Bruce Wayne’ always ends up barely rescuing her. She’s oblivious to the coincidences, however Bruce loves to see her from afar. He tries desperately to find a way to get her close to him, maybe by hiring her for Wayne enterprise or frequenting her job. Eventually, the reader puts two and two together and they confront each other about the coincidences. Eventually they start to date and Bruce has to maneuver with being Batman and being the readers body guard, basically.

Billy Hargrove:

Ladykiller in love- Of course Billy has all eyes on him at school, eventually making their way to the reader. At first she’s skeptical but decided to give Billy a chance, which he gladly takes. Billy slowly begins to fall hard for the reader, to a point where he can’t stop thinking about her, often going out of his way to be with the reader. Though the reader is skeptical, they try to avoid Billy and his advances in hopes of not being just another pursuit. With time, Billy has to prove the reader that she’s wrong about him.

Steve Harrington:

Second chance lovers- Almost dated, but whether reader or Steve weren’t ready, one of them got kidnapped by the government or in another relationship etc. Eventually reader and Steve (whoever left) has to entice the other to give them another chance. Really sweet and disgustingly romantic.

Steve Rogers:

One night stand- Reader and Steve hook up one night, afterwards reader avoids Steve at all costs in fear of bringing up that night. Steve goes out of his way to look for the reader, hoping to reconnect. He tries to be subtle about it, ordering coffee at the same shop at the same time she does, stopping by the same bookstore she meets her book club at during the week. Eventually Steve confronts the reader about them avoiding him, which leads them to reconcile and hook up again.

Bucky Barnes:

Disapproving parents- Though Bucky is a charm, your parents disapprove of your relationship, they think he’s far too old for you. Not to mention the kind of work he does makes them worry for your safety. You spend nights sneaking out or having him sneak in, you both can’t stay off of each other, even with the risk of getting caught. He spends his time trying to swoon you, not to mention your parents, but they simply side eye him. You think you have it under control until you don’t, it’s either him or your parents.

Loki Laufeyson:

Captor falls for captive- Throughout his time with the grandmaster, he was under strict supervision, one mistake after the next, he was forced to become one of the grandmasters bounty hunters. He was given the instruction to bring back a handful of women and men to serve in the grandmasters favor. After capturing a handful of prisoners, reader included, he takes a really great liking to the reader, instead deciding to keep her to himself. With riches and gold, he tries to buy her love, but maybe it’ll take more time for her to see the real him.

Cloud Strife:

Bodyguard- Reader meets Cloud in seventh heaven, not knowing the area, she opts to stay close to the bar. After some whispers among the bar, Cloud finds out about the readers lack of knowledge about the dangers of the area. Eventually Cloud decides to strike up a conversation with the reader, asking if he could help her get anywhere. At first the reader opts to get to somewhere safe to sleep, but as they get to know each other more, Cloud lets the reader follow him around. Though he has the second headache of keeping them safe, they take a liking to one another.

Sebastian Michaelis:

Runaway bride- Reader was in an unhappy relationship, or being cheated on, not knowing how to handle the situation in fear of her fiancée retaliating, the reader up and leaves the ongoing wedding before walking down the aisle. While running down the streets in her dress she bumps into Sebastian, who knows of her fiancée. Offering her to help her calm down, he offers her a place to stay until she gets herself together. She eventually becomes essential to the phantomhive household, still hiding behind Sebastian in hopes of never seeing her ex again.

Spencer Reid:

Professor x college student- Reader pursued Dr. Reid’s class in hopes of learning more about criminal psychology. After appearing in class every week without an absence, the reader tries to get close to the professor in an innocent manner, simply wanting to learn more and with hopes of making his job easier. The more time they spend with each other, the more they start to be attracted to each others features, way of thinking and understanding each other. Things escalate and they have to keep their relationship a secret in hopes of not being reprimanded.

Jason Todd:

Good girl/Bad guy trope- Though I wouldn’t classify Jason as a ‘bad guy’, seeing him with someone who loves him purely would be so cute. Reader met Jason at the park when walking alone, he decided to help her get home safely when he realized she was buzzed after drinking for the first time. After meeting in secret time and time again due to readers strict parents, they begin to fall for each other. “Touch her and you die” kind of vibe. Bonus points for Jason being the readers first everything or mostly everything.

[trillscienceofficer]

from Cinefantastique Vol 28 #4/5, November 1996

TABOO BREAKER: Another Trill gender bender, “Rejoined” echoes TREK's legacy of exploring the nature of love.

By Dale Kutzera

Thirty years ago STAR TREK broke a long-standing television taboo by presenting the first interracial kiss—a fact Gene Roddenberry often boasted about. Early in DS9’s fourth season a similar taboo fell. Though not the first lesbian kiss—LA LAW and ROSEANNE have done it, as did PICKET FENCES (albeit with the lights out)—it was certainly the most passionate. For 15 incredible seconds, Jadzia Dax and the wife of a former host kissed. And not a closed-mouth kiss, turned away from the camera as between Kirk and Uhura. This was passion.

The writers did not set out to create a “gay” show with “Rejoined.” The original story involved a male lover of one of Dax’s previous hosts and how their renewed attraction broke a Trill taboo against relationships with lovers from past lives. “We had talked for a long time about doing the show about Dax and a former spouse,” said staff writer/producer Robert Hewitt Wolfe, “and we always suspected that was a Trill cultural taboo. But how do you make the audience understand that even though Dax is doing something they would find acceptable, it’s against the norms of social behavior for her society? The story came before the decision to do the same sex couple. It was always an analogy to the way homosexual relationships are treated in our society. Trills have no reason to be against same sex couples, but what a better way to show that they are a totally different, alien society than to see them reacting in self-righteous indignation just because they were lovers in a previous life? That society should dictate who you should and should not love is a sad thing and that’s what the show is about. We didn't sit down and say ‘Lets do a gay show.”

Credit Ron Moore with taking Rene Echevarria's story and re-shaping it by making the past lover a woman. “Initially it was a man, she was a woman, and here they are,” said Moore. “I remember reading the story and thinking about it. Literally, I was on my way home and started to think this would be a much stronger story—it would really be a stand-out episode of the series—If this was a woman. Play it as a woman and really go for it. I called Ira from my car and he was receptive and the next day we just dumped it on the staff. It got batted around and there were reservations here and there and then everybody signed on board.”

“Ron is the one that made it happen," said Echevarria. “People had talked about doing a so-called lesbian angle in other contexts. Ron is the one who brought it together and said this is the show. The taboo was Michael Piller’s idea and Ron merged it, saw how they tracked and said, ‘We will do the show and never even mention the fact that these are two women. This taboo tracks with our own taboos or many audience members’ taboos about homosexuality and the argument will track straight down the line and it will be great.”’

Realizing that, as in any story of rejoined lovers, it would inevitably lead to a passionate kiss, Moore wrote a memo to Ira Behr and Rick Berman justifying what could be DS9’s most controversial episode. “We knew it was going to be a controversial episode if we went for it, so we clearly had to go to Rick and the studio,” said Moore. “Rick questioned us. He wanted to make sure we knew what we were doing and why. He focused in on it and then he went to the studio and their reaction was the same: “Why? How is this going to work? How are you going to handle it? Is this going to be just salacious? Is this going to be tasteful? And how far are you going to go?’”

The studio was concerned that some viewers may infer that the two women were having sex, and worried that some affiliate stations would not air the episode. “It really boiled down to how far are you going to go and how are you going to handle it?" continued Moore. “The fact that this show was not known as NYPD BLUE and was this shocking the audience and taking them by surprise? I think we pushed it in the kiss scene. That is a powerful, amazing scene. You can’t get around that. That is the show stopper. It was not a gratuitous scene—I thought I would have done it if that character had been a man. So I didn’t think we were doing it to grab attention. It was the right thing to do in the story and it’s going to hit you in a more powerful way. One of the arguments we used was this is part of our franchise legacy. The original series prided itself on TV’s first interracial kiss. We've been priding ourselves on that for 30 years, so why not take the next step and be true to our ideals and convictions. STAR TREK has a point of view, a not completely middle-of-the-road view of the future. This is part of our view.”

Before proceeding, the general premise was run past actress Terry Farrell. “Ira called me last summer to say Michael [Dorn] was on the show and would I mind kissing a woman?" said Farrell. “At the time I said, ‘As long as she’s beautiful.’ I was just being silly. Then I thought as soon as you get the script I want to see it, because if it is anything sensationalized or a joke I don’t want to do it. [Ira said], ‘No it will be a love story with integrity.’ And I thought it was.”

With the green light given, Moore and Echevarria began work on the script. “This was a love story and the trick was to write it as a love story and forget the fact that she was a woman,” said Moore. “The backstory helped in that they were married once. They were husband and wife—write them that way. Two people who really shared something. One of them died. They never got to say good-bye and years later, in different bodies, they run into each other again and play that out. The thing with the Trill taboo was a perfect metaphor for issues of sexual tolerance and intolerance and we played that taboo without really playing our taboo."

The writers tried not to focus on the fact that both lovers were women, and simply wrote the story as a straight romance. “It’s easy to do on paper because the name Lenara is not one you really associate with women anyway,’’ Moore said. “We made it up. So on paper it’s easy to forget and just write this love story and this taboo is what we’re dealing with. It’s not until you’re sitting in the room watching casting sessions that you got two women playing these scenes and you go, ‘Wow, this is really going to hit you in a different way when you see it.’ But we tried to stay true to just telling the story and not going for the easy shots.”

“I was excited, because they were brave,” said Farrell of the writers. “If I were to change the names to Frank and Sara I totally believed that love story. It didn’t matter what the names were, these two people were in love with each other. I was so happy that I was the one who was willing to fight for the love. I knew people would relate to me. And at the end I was so sad. No matter what anybody else says, it made me really proud.”

For Farrell the episode also offered her an opportunity to express on film her off-screen respect for Avery Brooks. In a moment of critical decision, as Dax contemplates breaking the Trill taboo and throwing her future into chaos, Sisko advises her against the hasty decision, but vows to stand by her whatever her choice may be. “I didn’t even need to do homework on that scene. I just used my relationship with Avery. The first year was very difficult to adjust to the dialog. People got impatient with me, other directors and other actors. I was 28 years old. but I felt like I was 18. I lost my confidence. I must have driven them nuts, but Avery was always very supportive and strong. He really helped me build my confidence. He’s strong and silent. I don’t know anything about him personally, but he’s been incredibly giving to me emotionally. We cried a lot on that scene. A lot more than you saw. It felt weird not crying too hard, but holding back. It helped to have a director [Brooks] you trust. I needed his opinion on that.”

Director Brooks had Farrell and gueststar Susanna Thompson (who earned thepraise of everyone involved in the show) rehearse the critical scene up to the momentof the kiss. The actual description of the scene in the script was general, leaving it up to the actors and director to stage. “I said it was a kiss they have been waiting a hundred years for. It’s a powerful moment, let them do their magic on the set,” said Moore. “Avery and the two actresses staged it and pretty much it was left as Avery, Terry, and Susanna wanted it.”

“It described I was touching her face and whispered in her ear—her husband said it turned her on,” said Farrell. “We rehearsed up to the kiss then stopped. I thought it was great Avery directed it. because he was really into being honest and telling the truth, trying to pretend we’re not aliens in outer space, and being honest in the emotions. Avery talked about being passionate and sensuous. What was really hard for me was it starts out in my close-up, then a two-shot and the kiss. She said one word, then gotcha. We wouldn’t dissect this. If I were kissing a man we would say, ‘No tongues? Okay, no tongues.’ Avery didn't want them to cut it down too much. We wanted to make sure that didn't happen. You don't go through telling that kind of story and then say, ‘We can’t be very brave.’”

The writers and cast were pleased and a bit surprised that the kiss was kept almost intact through the editing process. “We saw the kiss and thought, ‘Boy how is Rick going to edit this,” said Echevarria. “We were just so gratified and thrilled to see that he did not pull back on the emotion of the moment. He allowed it to happen. It's by far the most passionate gay kiss I've ever seen on television.”

The reaction to the episode was predictably mixed. Some affiliates did not air the episode. Others excised the scene with the kiss. Mail to the writing staff was heavier than for any other episode they had been involved in, and much of it negative. "My idea that sci-fi fans are socially far-thinking, that they are in many ways liberal, leftist, humanist, whatever, was totally blown apart by some of the incredible comments we received,” said Behr. “There’s a strong conservative strain in the American soul and maybe it’s there in sci-fi, too. I don’t think we were saying anything that was that extraordinarily out of line, but maybe we were and that's pretty sad.”

Not all the mail was negative, however, as Echevarria remembered. “I would say it was ten-to-one pro—saying thank you very much and you don’t know how important this was. Letters from teachers, counselors, groups that counsel gay teens—saying how important something like this is. My mother was just scandalized. For the first time ever she culled me and said, ‘I can't believe you did that. It's so bad and so bad for the children of America.’ I couldn't have been happier.”

“It was a challenge emotionally for me to have a relationship with a woman,” said Farrell. "It wasn't anything I ever thought I’d want to do in my career. I've taken jobs to pay the rent. It was a great feeling to get to do a show that was that special as an actress. A lot of people go through their whole career and don’t get to do something that controversial or with that artistic integrity. I’m very proud of that.”

[darlingshane]

vicious circle

Michael Berzatto x Spanish/F!Reader

Summary: You're ready to put an end to your complicated relationship with Michael, but he's not ready to let you go.

CW: 18+, explicit, smut, angst, oral sex (f. receiving), workplace relationships, boss/employee relationship.

Word Count: 2.4k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

This is it.

You’re done with him.

You’ve said that way too many times, and each time you’ve gone back to Michael.

Today feels different.

You’ve reached your limit, and you’re not going to break or give in to his worn-out excuses. It’s time to put your foot down once and for all, or he’ll keep walking all over you.

It’s something you’ve been thinking of for a while, and you can’t keep putting it off. So, at the end of the night when he goes outside to have a smoke after closing, you take that further step and leave an envelope on his desk with your name on the back and a two weeks’ notice. You could have sent it in an email, but he hardly ever checks his account and having something physical makes it more official and imminent. You know he’s not going to miss it cause every day he sits at his desk to go over the pile of bills after closing. And it only takes him five minutes to give up and go find the closest place open to get drunk.

Michael is still in the alleyway when you return to the kitchen to finish cleaning your station along with Tina.

There’s a song playing on your phone that you propped on one of the shelves. Occasionally, you hum and mumble the lyrics that you know so well. It’s a powerful Spanish ballad from an album you grew up listening to that really rips your soul apart. It’s about his guy that’s stuck in this vicious circle with a girl that does nothing but lie to him. She’s constantly changing his mind, coming to be with him whenever she feels like it, disregarding his feelings. And he can’t do anything but take her back when she returns.

The lyrics roughly translate to – She combs and tangles my soul. She walks with me, but I don’t know where she’s going. My rival, my partner. She’s deep inside my life and at the same time she’s so out of it.

It’s the perfect song to describe your situationship with Michael. Your back and forth with Michael Berzatto is nothing but a constant headache, and you refuse to be like the guy in those lyrics and let him use you whenever he wants to.

The music changes to something more upbeat in your playlist when the song ends, and you can see Tina from the corner of your eye shyly swinging to the beat.

When Michael comes back into the kitchen, he picks up Tina’s hand and starts spinning her and dancing around with her animatedly with a big smile on his face, singing along, stirring a laugh out of her.

Every other day, he’s like a fucking black cloud sucking all the air out of the room with all his gloom and doom. But tonight, he’s in a really good mood, and you love it, cause you’re about to change that. He’s caused you so much pain that it’s only fair to take your stab at poking the bear for once.

“C’mon, that’s enough, Mikey. I gotta finish here and pick up the kid.”

He gives Tina one final spin to end the dance, and tells her to go home, that he’ll finish in the kitchen.

It wouldn’t be the first time he's done that.

The thing with Michael is that he never follows through with anything he says. He's just empty words and promises. When he says he’s going to do something for you, like cleaning your station, you’ll always return the next day to find it how you left it cause he really doesn’t give a fuck.

While she slips off his kiss-printed trademarked apron and goes to the lockers to pick up her stuff, Michael tells you that you can leave too. But you stubbornly shake your head without looking at him.

“Okay, have at it,” he scoffs and retires to the office.

You're scrubbing the surface of the stove imagining wiping that grin off his face when he opens the envelope.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, chula.” Tina says from the entrance to the kitchen.

“I won't. Buenas noches.” (Goodnight.)

“Buen-” she starts saying back but is quickly interrupted by Michael who comes out again, wearing the scowl you proudly put on his face.

“Can I see you in my office?”

“Todavía no he terminado.” (I haven't finished yet.)

“I don’t give a shit about that. Office. Now.” He orders storming back into his little cluttered room.

You glance to the side to see Tina still standing there, throwing a most puzzled look at you.

“¿Pero qué le has hecho?” (What have you done to him?)

“¿Yo? Nada.” You shrug casually. (Me? Nothing.)

“Estaba el pobre de tan buen humor. De verdad que te gusta arruinarle el día al jefe.” She says with a humorous tone. (Poor guy was in such a good mood. You really enjoy ruining the boss’ day.)

“Puto cabrón likes ruining mine,” you scoff, cleaning your hands in the sink before taking off your apron and turning off the music on your phone.

“You two are more alike than you think. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I’ll try.”

Tina finally bids you good night before leaving out the back door.

Taking in a fortifying breath, you pause for a second before crossing the doomed threshold into his office.

He's sitting on his chair, staring blankly at your notice letter.

“You're not quitting,” he says, swiveling in his seat as if you had no other choice.

You clutch your fist to keep yourself from giving up to his objection. Printing your nails on the heel of your hand reminds you to remain strong and firm in your decision.

“You're not my boss. Well, you are for a few more days, but you have no right to force me to stay.”

“You're a fucking piece of work. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“Takes one to know one. I'm just so fed up with all this shit, with you, with this fucking place…”

“What? You found a better job than this?”

“No. But I will. Why? Don't you think I can't, motherfucker?”

“Didn't say you couldn’t. I'm sure with your experience you have many better options than this, sweetheart.”

“Then, what's the problem?”

“I can't just let you go.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you practically run this place. If you leave…”

“You'd have to hire someone else to fill my position, and would have to pay them more than you can't pay me.” You finish the sentence when he trails off. “You're so full of shit, Michael. You and I both know that the only reason you won't let me go is cause you can’t handle seeing me moving on. You could just say that instead of being a coward.”

“I’m the coward? That’s rich. How many times have you said you were leaving and backtracked?”

“This time is different. You've left me no choice. I'm busting my ass here and for what? For nothing. I pick up all the slack, I do everything you refuse to do and wait, you still never thank me for it, you never even considered giving me a raise.”

“Is this about money? You know I'd pay you more if I could.”

“I don't care anymore. I'm done bailing you out and trying to save something that doesn't wanna be saved.”

“Are we talking about me or the shop now?”

“Both. I can't be working here, and have you coming and going out of my life whenever you want to. I’m sick of your games. You can't say you won't let me go and then sit all day in the middle of the kitchen, so I can hear you yapping with Richie about this girl and this other girl you screwed. You're fucking toxic, and unprofessional. I doubt anyone will ever put up with your shit for as long as I have.”

Out of frustration, you dig your nails so hard into your skin it almost stings, but it helps you keep you from breaking in the middle of that sentence.

“I didn't fuck anyone. I was just messing with you.”

“Mira,” you sigh, defeated, “you're exhausting and incredibly immature for a forty-year-old. Get your shit together. I don't care what you do, or where you stick your dick in. I'm done. Let me be done, Michael.”

“I can't.” He finally stands up to level up with you, but leans on the desk instead. “Let's work on a solution. Tell me what do I have to do for you to stay?”

“Give me a raise. Stop being an asshole. And grow up.” You enumerate sharply.

You do have a few more in your list, but those are the main three.

“I can do two out of three.”

You can't stop the urge of rolling your eyes cause you know he's pathological.

“No deal.”

“Please, don't do this. I'm begging you here. Do I need to get down on my knees?”

That'd be a first.

“Look, I promise to stay away from you, or talk shit with Richie when you're around. You won't hear anything like that again. Just… please, this will fall apart without you, mi vida. If you really need a raise I'll think of something. But give me some time. I…”

The desperation in his voice cracks your armor, and you can't help but feel sorry for him. It's that familiar feeling that doesn't let you escape his hold on you, even when you’re well versed in his bullshit and know that always promises big, but never delivers.

It's weak and fucking pathetic to see how you fall for it every time he calls you mi vida. (my life)

Your fist unclenches, letting your defenses abandon you because you're just as bound to this place and his lies as much as he is.

His posture straightens, shortening the distance between you and him. One of his hands reaches to frame your chin, and you inevitably let him hold your face, leaning on his touch, as he inches closer to capture your lips.

“Lo siento, mi vida,” he mumbles while his mouth gently bounces against yours a couple of times. “I promise I'll do better.”

“Stop promising. Just show me, Michael.”

With his hand still holding your face, he glances at your eyes before focusing on your lips again, watching up close his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Fuck, you look so hot when you're angry,” he deflects cause he can't cope with the fact that you're right— he’s fucked up.

“Fuck you,” your grit stirs a chuckle out of him as he pushes your back against the wall.

A second later, he’s seizing your mouth once more, tearing apart your invisible armor away as his tongue slides to break the last defense you’ve put up. You let him, cause at the end of the day you still love him. No matter how many times he’s wronged you, you can’t bear the thought of leaving him stranded.

The desperation burning at the tip of his tongue is intoxicating. The only thing you can do is give in and kiss him back with nothing but anger. Which he happily accepts. He has you where he wants to– pinned against the wall, his hands devouring your body, and letting you drown in the depths of his mouth while he steals every last breath until your lips hurt.

When he’s done with your mouth, he moves to your neck. His bearded face scratches your skin as he mouths his way all over the surface; carelessly nibbling and sucking your flesh raw between his teeth, leaving his mark.

“Dime, corazón… what do I have to do for you to believe that I’m for real this time?” His breath catches in your ear. (Say, sweetheart…)

You almost break into laughter. It seems like a joke. You won’t believe anything until you see it, but you play along.

“Eat my pussy.”

“You’ll believe me if I do that?”

“No, but it’d be a start. Hey, you say you wanted to get on your knees to beg… So beg me.”

Pegging you with a look, he doesn’t hesitate to follow your request.

You watch him gravitate toward the floor on one knee without taking his eyes off you. His fingers swiftly open your jeans, tugging them down to your ankles. He licks his lips, letting his fingers scratch the surface of your thighs before pulling down your panties too. Then he buries his face between your legs and works his tongue to tell the same lies to your clit. He laps around it like he does with your relationship, touching the edges without diving further into the core. He’s always known exactly how to give you enough to satisfy your cravings but always leaves you asking for more. You want his soul and body to be yours, only yours. Right now, the only thing you own it’s his mouth and fingers that work together in harmony with the tickling of his beard to coax your orgasm to the surface.

He’s two-knuckle deep, fingertips pressing directly on your g-spot, when his lips finally wrap around that swollen bud. You have to grip on his hair to keep your knees from buckling down as he drives you to the finish line.

Pulling hard on his locks makes him grunt sinfully against your folds. You tug again and again, earning yourself a string of groans and curse words printed directly on your cunt. A mild wave of bliss flows nicely all over your body as he slips his dripping fingers out of you. He brings them to his mouth and licks him clean as you regain your breathing.

“You taste as good as I remember.”

“Don’t forget about it when you’re eating out some other puta.” You grumble pulling your panties and jeans up.

“Hm,” he stands and lifts your chin with those same fingers that were inside you. “You know I’d never do that to you.”

“No, no lo sé.” You lightly shake your head. (No, I don’t know.)

“I’m telling you.”

“A lot of shit comes from your stupid mouth.”

“A lot of good things go in too… Like you,” he deliberately licks his lips, collecting the shining remains of you.

“Just remember, next time you won’t get a chance like this. I’ll simply leave. And no more pussy for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

[anjelicawrites]

The one looking out for you

Paring: dark!Michael Gavey x fem!reader Synopsis: fill for this ask: “Hii can I request a dark Michael gavey x fem reader smut where they're coworkers and reader don't really know Michael because he works in IT and they only pass each other here and there but Michael is obsess with reader and one day he overhears reader telling a coworker that she's ovulating but her fiancé (who's been cheating on her without her knowledge) is out of town and they've been trying for a baby. Michael digs up dirt on her fiance and leaks the info anonymously and then he "coincidently" finds her crying and kinda drunk and he "comforts" reader”. Warnings: NONCON (reader is drunk while having sex), rape, rape drugs, stalking, obsession, sexist language, fatphobia, pictures and videos taken without reader’s consent, vomiting, alcohol usage, reader being drunk, p in v sex, chocking, titty sucking, fingering, creampie, baby trapping, breeding kink, lactation kink, talk of reader reduced to a basement wife, talk of pregnancy sex. A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, she/her pronouns used.

Michael knows how special you are, how gentle you heart is; he sees you in all the ways other people don’t. Some might call his behavior obsessive, stalkerish even, but the world doesn’t understand that, when you finally find your person, you need to take all the necessary steps to keep that person safe. Take today, for example. You had worked overtime, your team leader needing your expertise for the latest company project, and are going home just now, after 9 pm on a cold winter night. You should wait for the bus, or hail a cab, but you’re too tired to wait and just want to go home thus cutting through the city park. Michael knows because he’s following the GPS of your phone, to make sure nothing happens to you, and is using the speakers of your phone to hear what’s happening around you and call the cops if someone tries to approach you.

He shouldn’t have cloned your phone, he knows it’s frowned upon, but you pull shit like this: how is he supposed to keep you safe? You are too gentle, too trusting of the world and in need of a protector, someone who will really look after you, not like your useless fiancé, who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, nor he loves you, otherwise he wouldn’t be having an affair with the girl living in the next door apartment. The discovery had been casual, the Trojan he used to clone your phone had infected your fiancé’s as well and Michael had been the unwilling witness to his sexual escapades with that whore. He had been so disgusted by the way the asshole talked about you, that he would have disconnected from the phone, if he wasn’t digging for dirt on him.

Michael knows he’s invisible, he’s always been: no friends, no girlfriend, only him and his brilliant mind; when he was younger he had suffered because no one acknowledged him, now he understands he has a superpower that helps him navigate corporate life, absorbing all the relevant information, without anyone realizing what he’s doing.

You greet him whenever you stumble upon him in the corridors, still grateful he solved a computer issue you had the day of a big presentation, the reason why he’s met you in the first place and every gentle smile you direct his way, adds fuel to the fire of his obsession. He’s racked his own brains for days, after that first fateful encounter, wondering how he could start a conversation with you, cloning your phone had been the only way he thought he could find something you two had in common. It saved him a gaffe, when he saw all the photos with your fiancé, and gave him so much insight inside your brain, to understand you were the woman for him; of course you are far more creative that he’ll ever be, your soul gentler than his, but you are smart and being so different will only add to you two’s relationship, once he’s gotten rid of your boyfriend.

Michael is working on the new firewall, hidden in his own basement office. He’s thankful that the other IT people are misanthropes as he is and don’t mind that he’s working with his headphones on, on the contrary, everyone is wearing headgear to focus better on their task, the difference being, he’s listening to you. Your day is slow, with the big project finished, you and your team can kick back a bit, have a chat while ironing the last wrinkles.

Michael has been listening while you were chatting with that stupid cow, Marissa, about the last movie you’ve watched at that theater that shows mostly old black and white flicks; Michael has managed to garner quite the knowledge about old time Hollywood and Cinecittà and has discovered a fondness for old Hammer movies himself, even though the movies he prefers the most star you while you’re pleasuring yourself (something you’re doing quite frequently, since the asshole doesn’t seem to be that interested in you anymore), the theater? Your webcam and your apartment.

His focuses his attention when you go to have a coffee with your ‘work wife’ Jenny; through your phone he hears that you two are going downstairs, to the cafeteria of the building: one day you and him will do the same, pick a place to call your own, just to have a break. You have only bought your phone with you, it’s easy for him to listen to the inane chat, even though the cafeteria is packed; he’s not truly focusing on the conversation, just to the sound of your lovely voice as you wait for your coffee (espresso, a splash of oat milk and half sugar) and your favorite pastry (pain au chocolat, vegan); it’s when the asshole’s name drops that he stops working and focus only on you.

“You know we’ve been trying truly hard, at least we used to.” You say with a defeated tone he doesn’t like. “Then we stopped for his big project, I understand that he couldn’t follow that and my hormonal cycle.”

Michael grits his teeth; he’s been looking out for you for the better part of the year, before? He wasn’t your guardian angel and it had been difficult for him to put together the pieces, since you don’t use that many apps to store your personal life and information.

“Wait.” Jenny stops you. “Wasn’t he the one who wanted to start trying again?” “Yes.” From your tone only Michael can imagine you pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s been repeating me to check my ovulation, write everything down or use those pregnancy like sticks, and what does he do the weekend I am at my peak? Leaves for work!”

Michael has to clench his fists when he understands what you and Jenny are talking about: children. You and the asshole having a baby!

Michael has to leave his small office and storms to the bathroom where he can pace around like a caged beast: that son of a bitch wants to knock you up, while he’s having an affair with the whore next door?

Calm, he tells himself, you need to stay calm and focused.

“What kind of trip is that?” He hears Jenny ask. “Work. His firm is trying to promote a new kind of prosthesis during this orthopedics conference; he has to be there.” “Why can’t you go with him? Take the weekend off? You wouldn’t be the only partner to go, I think”. “There have been some issues.” Your voice lowers conspiratorially. “Some of his colleagues had gone with their mistresses, on firm expenses and now all family members are banned from going.” “Hmm.” Jenny doesn’t seem too convinced. “Are you sure he wants to truly try?

Michael hears you sigh and wished he was there, not in this stupid bathroom!

“We are more distant. I keep telling myself that we had to both work on big projects at the same time, that we were forced to focus on work more than we would have liked and that, after the storm, things would go back to normal.”

Michael hears you sniff and the soft sound of Jenny’s hand on yours.

“What’s your gut feeling, love?” She asks, with a quiet voice. “That is not a storm and that he’s asked to try for a baby again because he doesn’t know how to handle all of this.” “Perhaps him going away for the weekend isn’t such a bad thing.”

Michael likes Jenny, she’s smart, calls IT only when she has a real issue and treats all of them like they are people, not the weird nerds hiding in the basement; he reckons Jenny is a bit of a nerd as well, based on the Star Trek knickknacks on her desk. Yes, when you and him are together, she’s one of the friends he’ll advise you to stick with: you’ll have to drop many of them, too stupid for you, and for him, but not Jenny, she can stay.

Michael hides in one of the stalls and opens the secret app on his phone where he keeps all your photos and videos. Some are racy, you pleasuring yourself using your favorite dildo and clit sucker, your sobs of pleasure going straight to his cock every time, but that’s not what he is looking for as his thumb swipes through all the pics he has, until he’s found the one he loves the most: you on the sofa, dressed in an oversized jumper, as you read your book. You look homely, the picture of what he wants your lives to be: quiet and filled with each other’s presence, you two don’t need anyone else, Or perhaps...

His mind goes back to the conversation he’s just heard. Michael doesn’t truly care for children but for you? He’ll give you a soccer team of babies if only you asked, fuck you full of his cum until he’s sure he’s bred you, only to fuck you some more once you’re full. His finger slides through the photos until he finds one of you in your bathing suit, just to imagine your tummy full of his child and your breast swollen with milk, begging to be sucked: yeah, the idea of knocking you up becomes more and more appealing as the minutes pass. He just needs to make sure the asshole doesn’t manage before he does.

Michael goes back to his cubicle with a lighter heart, now that he knows what the stakes are; he even whistles his favorite song as he orders a bouquet of the flowers you love (white callas and light pink lilies), to have them sent to your workstation: this has been his only outward way to express his feelings for you and today you need something nice to look at, after your heartfelt conversation with Jenny. As he focuses again on the firewall, Michael mentally pats himself on the back for having cloned the asshole's phone by mistake: you will have to know what is going on, it will hurt you, but he’s going to be there for you, unlike your fiancé.

Later that night, Michael is storing all he has on the asshole on the USB pen he’s bought on the way back to his small apartment; as one of the computers is working on the background, out of curiosity he checks if what the asshole has told you about the ban on partners going to conventions is true or not: if he’s lying, he’s going to add to the mountain of proofs he has, if not, well, it means that even him plays fair sometimes.

He stares at the desktop, before clicking on his browser icon: obviously is a picture of you, a selfie you’ve taken on holiday; you look so relaxed and happy, the shadows the straw hat you’re wearing paint on the skin of your cleavage are so elegant: he’s never met a woman who can be classy even when wearing a skimpy bikini. You are truly a Goddess among your kind, the best and the smartest, created just for him. He hopes you’ll let him snap racy pictures of you, once you two are together; nothing obscene or pornographic, just to celebrate your beauty and grace. Michael thinks he will be able to convince you, otherwise something in your water to make sure you’re pliant will make do.

You don’t want to be at this stupid office party. Yes, your last project was a success, all your colleagues want to celebrate, but you are in no mood, thanks to your cheating, asshole of a boyfriend.

You don’t know who sent you the USB pen, you’re not sure you’ll ever thank them for opening your eyes, but the truth is in front of you and you have no way to stop knowing what has been happening behind your back; given the chance, would you rather not have received the envelope and the USB? Nursing your umpteenth cocktail you’re not sure of the answer.

The envelope was white and lacked a return address, which was unusual but not overly so: the local Catholic Church leaves leaflets when Christmas and Easter are near, to promote the activities during these periods of time, never envelopes but you thought they were changing their strategies and opened it once you were home, alone as usual. The USB had surprised you, the printout of the reservation made of your fiancé and the girl next door, for the conference, propelled you to the bathroom, where you threw up your lunch and afternoon snack.

There was another message, smaller, that invited you to check the USB pen in your hand, if you wanted to know the truth; you stayed rooted on the spot for the longest time, torn between wanting to ignore everything, or let the bomb explode. Time passed, punctuated by the old clock in the kitchen, until you made up your mind, and choose the latter, you’re a daughter of Pandora after all, and plugged the USB in your computer: a barrage of text, photos and audio messages attacked you, you managed to go through a small percentage of them, before you had to run to the bathroom to throw up again, your stomach churning bile until you had nothing left to give. After this onslaught you cried with your knees tight against your chest, until you felt so tired you’d sleep on the cold bathroom floor, but you forced yourself to go back to the living room and went through all the proofs of your fiancé’s infidelity with the whore next door.

You didin’t know your personal guardian angel was listening to everything and looking using the smart TV you’ve bought last year. Michael’s heart hurt with your pain, he wished he was there to comfort you; if only you had waited for him, instead of being with the asshole, he wouldn’t have to make you go through all of this. It was your fault for not having faith that your true love was waiting for you: you’ll go through this cathartic experience and then be free to start your new life, the one Michael will tailor for you, and for himself.

With gritted teeth he watched the fight you have with the asshole, all the excuses he spewed, and then the insults against you, before he left slamming the door. He saw you angrily drink and cry until you passed out on the couch and he stayed up all night, watching you through the TV to make sure you were still breathing. It hurt him that you were hurt, but it was the price to pay for a better future.

You have been on autopilot for the rest of the week: went to work, where you used a mere fraction of your attention on the last details of the finished project, and then returned home to cry. You fiancé, better, former fiancé at this point, didn’t even try to patch things up with you, on Thursday, after you returned from work, all his stuff had disappeared and he hadn’t even left a note or sent you a message. You truly spiraled after that, called your best friend and wept on the phone for hours, until you head hurt; on a whim you had even thought about not going to work on Friday, but you couldn’t, not with the presentation of the bloody project and the celebration party afterwards. You decided to settle with finishing the alcohol at home and sent disparaging texts to your ex, who never answered them (little you knew that your own guardian angel had to do with that, and with the fact that he had disappeared with all his belongings; that was not something Michael thought you needed to worry your pretty head with).

You played your part on Friday, said your little spiel and shook hands on command, wore a fake smile for everyone to see, until you could hide in the conference room, nursing glasses after glasses of cheap alcohol, until you felt like enough time had passed to return home.

You’re sitting at the big desk, facing morosely the incredible view from such a high floor, with a glass and bottle you’ve taken from the open bar. You’re drunk, it's so easy to ignore the little voice in your head that’s telling you to stop, call a Uber and go home when your tummy is sloshing with alcohol. You’re so detached from your body that the door opening with a small creak doesn’t scare you.

“I thought nobody was here.”

You turn your head slowly and feel the strain of your eyes as they focus on the intruder. On first sight you don’t recognize him, then his name comes back to you Michael, one of the IT guys who solves all your technical issues. You’ve met him a couple of times, once when Marissa had some issued with her computer. You had felt bad for the guy, who had to come upstairs to simply turn the switch Marissa had swore was already on the right position. He had said something nasty about your colleague under his breath, ‘vapid cunt’, or something among those lines, as he was leaving. You didn’t approve of his language, but understood his frustration: he probably had to deal with stupid accidents like that all the time, his patience must have slipped; you had stopped him before he entered the lift and said you were sorry on your colleague’s behalf. You could have sworn his eyes had focused on you, behind his tick glasses, as if he was assessing you, judging you, but it was just a moment, then his blue eyes seemed to clear and you had repeated yourself that you have been consuming too much true crime, if such an innocuous man could cause weird thoughts in your head.

You had seen him around, he had saved your arse when your computer stopped working the day of a big presentation, tall and gangly, and always greeted him with a smile and a wave, which he would awkwardly respond to: he was one of the many people you knew, but weren’t truly friends with.

“Hi.” You try to sound sober. “Far from the madding crowd as well?”

Ok, you tell yourself, that’s not too bad.

Michael gently closes the door, you don’t see it but he locks it as well, before he walks towards you.

“Something like that.”

You stare at him, truly taking his appearance in for the first time. He’s awkward, standing the way he does a couple of chairs away from you, but not ugly: he should dress better and wear more stylish glasses, but he is handsome, in a nerd kind of way; his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue, and he is tall, not imposing but with large shoulders.

“Come.” You say, patting the chair next to you. “Don’t stand where you are. Fancy a drink?”

Almost knocking a chair over, Michael walks where you are and stiffly sits.

“I think I am full for the night.” He answers, when you offer him your own glass. “Are you sure? I’d loathe to drink by myself.” “Sure.” He answers. “Uhm, congratulation with the project.” He adds.

You pour yourself a generous amount of alcohol and drink it down in one go.

“That? Child’s play.” “Still, a great amount of money coming this way.” “Yeah.” You’re suddenly more morose than before. “All I am good for.”

You sway on the chair and distantly feel Michael’s hands, his very large hands, grab you by your shoulders before you can fall.

“I’m fine Mickey boy.” You slur with your face dangerously close to his. “I’m nothing but trash worth kicking anyway!”

You shrug him off and try to keep an upright position.

“Don’t say that about yourself!”

Something in his tone forces your drunken mind to focus on him.

“What do you know?” You bare your teeth at him and he has to keep you upright again. “I’m with this guy for years, years! I turn down the position in the USA office for him! Lose weight! Learn how to cook like his sodden mama and what does he do? He fucks the next door neighbor, that fat cow! I have to starve myself and be shamed when I can’t be a bloody size 8 and he fucks her! Sends her dick picks! Talks shit about me!”

The same way rage had possessed you, it disappears, leaving you a shaking handful of nerves; before you even realize it, you fall against Michael and start crying, fat, inconsolable sobs against his ugly sweater.

Michael holds you tight, reveling in the fact that you are in his arms, never mind the reason: you’ve opened up your heart to him, you’re seeking him for consolation! Not Jenny, not your best friend, but him! Because you know, in your heart of hearts, that Michael is the one for you!

He knows he’s awkward as he caresses your back and tries to murmur soothing words against your hair, but it doesn’t matter, not when all his hard work has come into fruition!

“I’m so sorry.” He hears from the general direction of his chest. “I don’t know what happened.” “That’s fine.” He answers, his arms still caging you. “Truly Michael, I don’t know what possessed me.”

When you finally manage to lift your head from his chest, you stare into his eyes, now dark pools your drunken brain can’t read.

Michael loses himself in your beautiful face and in the pain still marring your features: you need consolation and not the kind that words offer. He hadn’t planned all of this when he had followed you in the conference room, but you are in his arms, needy and sad and his cock is rock hard. You are causing all of this, he tells himself, because you need this and him. And he can’t say no to you.

His big hand sneaks into your hair to pull you closer to him; in your drunken state you don’t realize what’s happening, if not when his lips crash on yours, uncoordinated and dry. You try to push him away, to beg him to stop, but he uses your parted lips to slip his tongue in to deepen the kiss, his free hand grabs your hips and he pulls you on the table, slotting himself between your parted legs, his erection shocking you. When he starts kissing your neck, you try to push him away again, too drunk and weak to manage and he grabs your wrist in his big hand, to push you against the cold glass of the table; his free hand slips under your skirt and his fingers sneak under your panties.

“If you don’t want me, why are you so wet?”

He towers over you, his eyes unreadable behind his glasses and you can’t help but sob again: your drunken brain can’t find an adequate response, your body on fire after such a long time without another person’s touch.

Your body arches when his fingers slip inside your cunt, warm and wet, to fuck your hole hard and fast: he’s seen you masturbate so many times he knows how you like it, how you want his thumb on your clit, how to curl them to find your G spot and bully it, while you trash and cry, your muscles impossibly tight around him. He knows the sounds you’re making, those high pitched sobs that mean you’re close.

“Nooo…” You moan when his fingers leave your body.

Michael’s stare his cold and burns you at the same time, you have to hide your face because you can’t stand it deep into your soul; roughly he forces you to look at him.

“Look at me when I fuck you.” His palm cups your cunt cruelly. “You don’t get to come if you stop staring at me.”

Your drunken mind wants to come, wants an orgasm to take the pain away, it doesn’t matter who gives it to you, as long as your heart stops hurting. Then you will forget all about it.

A scared sound escapes your mouth when his big cock is revealed to you: you’ve never had anything so tick inside of you, you’re scared. Michael seems to revel in the fear he sees in your eyes, he can feel his erection grow with it, the knowledge that you’re finally at his mercy fueling his desire: you’re going to take all of him and be grateful that his seed will grow inside your belly, he’s going to give you all the time to adjust, but he’s coming inside of you and you with him.

Impatient he pulls your shirt and bra out of the way to free your beautiful breasts and he jacks himself faster at the sight of your tits. He bats your hands away when you try to cover yourself and curls one hand around a breast, until you cry out in pain.

“You’re all mine to see.” The vise on your breast is so tight he’s going to leave imprints. “Say it!”

You’re drunk and petrified, you don’t understand where this violence comes from, you just want to come and be done with all of this.

“I’m… I’m all yours to see.” You manage to say with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “It wasn’t so hard.” Michael’s hand travels from your abused tit to your cheek to dry the tears already there. “I want to make you feel good, but you have to behave. Will you be my good girl?”

If you weren’t this drunk you’d fight him off you, scream bloody murder until someone comes to your rescue, but you’re drunk and desperately need all the human connection that you can scrape. You’d never sleep with Michael, not in a million years, but you’re not in your right mind and you just slump against the cool glass, incapable of stopping him.

Michael’s bulbous head nudges your wet entrance, slowly he slides in and groans at how wet you are; he hasn’t had many partners but no cunt has felt as perfect as yours, the ripple of your muscles as your body desperately tries to adjust to his size makes his blood boil, your pained moans and keens spur him on and his pushes become faster and faster, the more your cunt opens up for him. Desperate you try to relax, the pain of his intrusion mixes with pleasure, your drunken mind is confused, your body arches when he bottoms out and your eyes roll in their sockets: you’ve never been so full in your entire life.

Michael has to stop once he is sitting fully inside of you, your hole strangles his cock in ways no other cunt has ever managed, your nipples are erect with the pleasure he’s giving you and you’re making those small sounds that have him want to fuck you hard and fast, but he’s promised you pleasure, and he is no liar. Your tearful eyes are on him as he bends his back to envelope one nipple in his mouth to suck, gently, the other is getting pinched by his long fingers; slowly the pleasure mounts over the pain you’ve been feeling, your drunken body responds to his ministration and you moan, eyes on his as he switches between nipples with satisfied groans, your hips even lift to invite him to move, and he follows your movements, picking up speed when he feels your muscles give up to his ownership of your body.

You moan and keen when he picks up speed and he pulls your legs over his arms to fold you and fuck you faster, your wet cut squelches with every push, his cockhead bullies your G spot mercilessly and you try to squirm away, the pleasure too much and not enough. Michael bends against your body again and kisses you, tongue proprietary in your mouth he snuffs your scream when you come, your cunt so tight around his cock that he follows, copious in your hungry hole, and keeps fucking you, his erection still at full mast, fueled by your desperate sounds of overstimulation: he’s dreamed about this for too long to stop now.

You try to beg, to scream, but his hand around your throat cuts off your desperate prayers, your scratch his wrist and he simply fucks you harder, grinds against your poor clit tighter and your legs kick against his back, spurring him on: he knows you like it hard and even if you don’t? It’s what you’re getting now.

With a groan he pulls out and turns you face first on the table, fast he enters you again and grabs your tits to use your body as leverage to fuck your hole savagely, his hold the only reason your body is still up, your hands try to grab uselessly at the glass, his heavy balls slap against you and pleasure burns through you, painful it courses through your body and you squirm with it, tears falling from your eyes as his cock rapes your hole deeper and deeper, until he comes, panting your insides again, triggering your own orgasm.

You pant, the cold of the table nice against your over heated skin. Distantly you feel Michael’s lips on your nape, he’s leaving small kisses and nibbles on the soft skin, when you try to move you moan, your cunt curling around his still erect cock.

“Michael, please.” You beg, so sore already. “If you didn’t want me, why is your cunt strangling my cock?” He whispers cruelly in your ear.

Michael can’t believe his body can still be in need of yours, but he’s not going to say no, not when your cunt is massaging his erection so deliciously. Fast he removes his cock and plugs your cunt closed with his fingers, he can’t risk his seed to go to waste, not when he’s trying to knock you up; one handed he turns you on your back again and enters your hole with a groan: he’s found his home and he’s not going to leave it.

“Please Michael.” You sob. “I’m so sore!”

He cups your cheek and kisses you again. You submit to his ownership, afraid of triggering his rage; distantly a part of your brain is screaming that you don’t want this, that you should fight him, but you don’t have the strength to, not when you just want to forget your ex for a while ans are so scared of his rage: you will feel dirty afterwards and will drunk yourself in a stupor to forget, but that’s problems for future you, now you can't do anything else, you just want the pain to stop.

“I was too forceful, was I?” Michael caresses your body, already getting used to the feel of your skin under his. “I’ll go slow this time, love. Give me your last one and we’ll stop.”

For now, he thinks. He’s not done with marking all your holes as his.

“Don’t hurt me.” You sob, small and pathetic. “Never.”

His hips move slowly against yours, long and deep pushes that you feel everywhere in your body. His hands are at your breasts again, massaging them in tandem with his pushes inside of you; you squirm, your muscles sore with the abuse he’s subjected you to, your clit inflamed with the way he grinds against it, still sparks of pleasure explode in your muddled brain, your cunt clenches around him, pulling him in tighter and tighter, that he can’t help but grind against you, the image of the ring of his come and yours around his base and the squelch of your hungry hole spurring him on. He’s not going to last long and you’re coming with him again, sucking all your seed inside of you, until it takes. He’s going to fuck you through your pregnancy as well, his hips grind faster when he imagines the added pressure of your full belly and your tits, leaking milk he’s going to be all the happier to suck.

“No Michael please!” You beg when he starts fingering your clit. “Be my good girl.” He groans, punishing you with hard thrusts. “You’re going to come and drain my cock dry, or I’m not going to stop until you do.”

Your body arches at his words, the part of your mind that’s still coherent reels at the realization that he’s been fucking you bareback, your cunt clenches at the thought, tighter and tighter as he fucks your deeper and faster, until you come with a pained sob and he follows you, emptying his balls fully inside of you.

He stays rooted inside of you, willing his seed to take as your muscles massage his soft cock to the point of overstimulation; you’re a mess of tears and ruined make up under him, still too shook after so many orgasms, and he uses your fragility to enact the last part of his plan.

He grabs the glass and bottle still intact after your coupling and fishes for the small packet of drugs he’s bought on less than savory websites (the wonders of the deep web, if one knows where to look) and dissolves one capsule in the remaining alcohol. Gently he raises your head and forces you to drink everything: you need to be pliant for this part, he can’t risk you acting silly if you two meet some coworkers on the way out.

Once you’ve drunk everything, he stays inside of you, just enjoying your body as the drug takes effect, only then he’s going to dress you and help you back to your apartment, where he’s going to fuck you for the whole weekend. Hopefully his purchase will not be needed, but if you misbehave he’ll have to give some more of it, he needs you to be pliant, ready to follow his breeding project. As you stare at him with glassy eyes, Michael decides he’s going to drug you anyway and once the effects drain off your system, hopefully you’ll buy his story, that you two went on a weekend binge of alcohol and sex. If things will go as he’s planned, come Sunday you’ll be embarrassed and he will buy you breakfast and ask you out on a proper date, if you start complaining, then he has to use plan B, the one he had devised when he had found out you had a fiancé. You don’t know it, but if you are going to be a silly goose, he’s going to hide you away in the small farm out in the country he’s bought under a false name (he is a man who needs little to survive and has managed to put away a big sum easily), until he can break you and remake you into his perfect little wife. He will have to lock you in the basement for a time and use the fake posts he’s prepared in advance to justify you disappearing from your life, but he’s positive that’s not going to be needed: you are his other half, after all.

[magewritesstories]

[ SPENCER REID ] GIRL DINNER

cw. you and spencer are alone in the bullpen after a long case and you introduce him to girl dinner, guest starring spencer's glasses bc why not. [ fluff ] note. i used what my comprehension of girl dinner is but there's a lot of different opinions on what it's supposed to be. wc. 622

THE BULLPEN IS QUIET AS THE CLOCK STRIKES 11:30 PM. Spencer sat in his office, wondering why he ever took Emily up on the offer of becoming Unit Chief.

The pile of unwritten reports seemed never-ending, and the pile of written ones barely growing.

The man sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, casting a glance out his office window to look at the single lit light coming from your desk, where you're also hunched over a profile.

He quickly checks the time on his watch and gets up.

"You should head home, it's late," he stated, leaning against Luke's desk, which was parallel to yours.

You looked up from the report in your hand. "It's okay, I'm almost done anyway—what about you?"

"That doesn't count, I'm unit chief," he replied with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

"I didn't realize unit chiefs weren't human," you replied with a teasing tone.

Spencer just shrugged. "I told JJ I'd write her share of reports so that she could go home and spend some time with Henry and Michael. What's your excuse?"

"Just looking at the pile of unwritten reports on your desk made me tired," you answered. "I didn't want to add to it."

"I don't mind, you know."

"I know, but just because you don't mind doesn't mean I should take advantage of it every time—besides, believe it or not, I had nowhere to be anyway."

You gave him a small smile that made his heart flutter.

He stayed quiet for a minute (by accident) before quickly clearing his throat. "Uhm, have you—have you had dinner?"

"Sort of," you shrugged. "I had girl dinner if that counts."

Spencer frowned as he said something he found himself saying a lot more often with you around, "I—I don't—I don't know what that means."

You used your pen (pink with a small kitten attached to it—probably from Penelope's 'Batcave') to point at the empty plate sitting at the far edge of your desk.

"I had a small container of yogurt, a cup-o-noodles, and some apple slices," you explained.

"That's just a bunch of different snacks," Spencer blinked in confusion.

You shook your head as you corrected him, "Actually, it's a bunch of leftovers I found in the fridge—don't tell Terry, he's very serious about his yogurt."

"Still not sustainable," he countered with a smile, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"It's three out of the five main food groups," you replied with a grin. "Besides, it's not like I eat like this every day. I just didn't want to waste time getting dinner when I wasn't that hungry anyway."

You leaned against your chair, spinning slightly, as you looked at the slight crease between his brows.

"Tell you what, boss," you said, "If my choice of dinner bothers you that much, why don't we go out?"

"Wha—what?" he asked, snapping out of his daze.

You smiled at his flustered expression. "For dinner, obviously. C'mon, my treat, y'know, for being such a great boss."

"I—I—"

"It'll be fun," you insisted. "There's this great Thai place that opened a few streets down from that bar we went to the other day. JJ said you don't know how to use chopsticks, and I would love to see you try."

Spencer shook his head. "I taught myself, actually. I can use them now."

"Great, I guess you can prove it to me," you replied.

"You really think that place is still open right now?"

"Yep, opening hours are from 7 to 2," you answered. "So if we can finish these reports before then, we should be fine."

Spencer sighed before giving you a smile. "I'm going to try."

"Great, it's a date!" you exclaimed as he turned back around to walk to his office.

You were going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

[peachhcs]

Hiii!!

I was wondering if you could write something for samy and will based on this article: https://www.nhl.com/canadiens/news/my-man-mireille-boutin-on-michael-pezzetta?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=post&utm_campaign=CHCcontent&utm_content=EN-0514-MyMan

Basically the nhl team’s media people asking the players’ significant other questions about them. Thanks so much :))

my girl: will smith on samy hughes

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

nhl elite prospects interviews will about samy & their relationship!

1k words

this was suppperr cute to write. i swear will’s a yapper when it comes to talking about samy. i switched it from the article so it was will talking about samy, hope u don’t mind, but i loved this request!!

au masterlist

"we've been best friends since we were kids. everything just makes more sense when i'm around her."

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN — samy hughes is known for her tough offense on the soccer field.

but off the field, she's the "best person i've ever known," according to her boyfriend, will smith, a boston college forward.

while in san jose for a development camp, the nhl elite prospects were able to catch up with smith to ask him how he's been doing, including how his new relationship's been treating him.

TELL US ABOUT YOUR DYNAMIC GROWING UP.

it's funny because we never hung out by ourselves a lot when we were kids. i was pretty attached to her older brothers [quinn, jack, and luke] and she was attached to my sister [grace smith], so we never really hung out that much until we were older. although, we always got along. when we did hang out we enjoyed talking to one another and poking fun as if we were siblings. we really didn't get closer until i moved up to plymouth for the usntdp.

WHAT CHANGED YOUR RELATIONSHIP FROM FAMILIAL TO ROMANTIC?

at least for me, as i got older, my feelings started changing towards her. i started seeing her as an annoying sister less and less and the more we hung out when i was in michigan, the more attached i grew i guess. we started just..doing stupid stuff together and i just really liked hanging out with her. all the times where i thought the things we did together was just a sibling dynamic, i slowly realized it was a lot more than that.

WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO ON YOUR FIRST DATE?

i took her out to dinner in ann arbor and then we walked around for a bit before sitting on a bench and just talking for hours. it was definitely weird at first, but we eased into one another and it was fun getting to know her on a different level than what i've always known her as.

WHAT ATTRACTED YOU MOST TO HER?

her personality for sure. she's super outgoing, always knows what she wants, very independent, super caring. we're very similar in many aspects, hence why we're best friends. she looks up to her brothers a lot which i admire because i also look up to them. i also enjoy her extensive knowledge of hockey because of her family, so it's easy talking about the game with her. she's just always been someone i go to when i need a shoulder to lean on and it's just so easy with her, you know? i love getting to call her so we can talk about our days together.

OF COURSE, HOCKEY'S IN SAMY'S ROOTS. DO YOU GET HER ON THE ICE WITH YOU EVER?

oh yeah, 100%. whenever we're back at michigan or in boston, we're on the ice. she's the one dragging me outside sometimes so we can play 1v1 or something. she's always had that love for hockey even if she doesn't play competitively anymore. i also love seeing her out there because it's what bonded us when we were kids, so it's nice still getting to go out and do it with her. somehow she still beats me too. she doesn't play for 4 months and then we're back on the ice together she scores 3 goals before i can even get the puck in my possession. the guys chirp at me whenever that happens if they're around.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU WATCH HER SOCCER GAMES?

every single one of them are on my computer. it doesn't matter what i'm doing. as soon as the live stream starts, i'm booting it up to watch. the guys love watching her play, so i always get to turn it on the tv and then we scream at the stream for two hours together.

SPEAKING OF THE GUYS, WE HEARD SHE HAS A GREAT RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR LINEMATES AS WELL.

leno and perreault absolutely adore her which i think is really sweet. i was a little worried when i first introduced all of them back when we moved to mich, but the three of them grew close really quickly. sometimes i think they're more excited to see her than i am and that's saying a lot.

WE HEARD HUGHES IS A GREAT COOK. HAS SHE COOKED ANYTHING FOR YOU?

when we're at the lake house she loves cooking all of us breakfast. she makes a great omelette and french toast, like, the best i've ever had. we all go crazy for her breakfast in the mornings.

DO YOU GUYS EVER TRAIN TOGETHER DURING THE SUMMER LIKE RUNNING OR WORKING OUT?

i'm not a huge runner, but sometimes i will run with her when she goes out, or i'd bike along side her. our training schedules are pretty different, but when we're in the offseason we'd occasionally hit the gym together or do some casual workouts that won't kill us. she knows what the hockey training is like so it's no stranger to her when she does follow my lead. soccer, on the other hand, is a lot more sprints and footwork which is sometimes helpful for me.

CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT SOME OF SAMY'S BEST QUALITIES?

shes a huge team player. she's always looking out for those girls on her soccer team, helping them run drills, being someone to talk to—i really admire her for that. she's got a real big heart too. her love is so contagious. she's dependable, trustworthy, kind, beautiful—the list could go on coming from me.

ANY LAST WORDS YOU WANT US TO ADD?

i love her, haha. our parents knew way before us that we would end up together before we even knew. we've been best friends since we were kids. everything just makes more sense when i'm around her. this is probably corny, but i wanna spend the rest of my life with her. she's my rock.

[mikedfaist]

can we get more pregnant!reader??? like when she’s actually going into labor and he takes her to the hospital? supportive sweetie mike is my favorite

Mike took the classes. He read the books. He sought insight from his friends who have already ventured down this path before. The hospital bag was ready. The nursery was complete – alongside a crib he did indeed decide to build. He was ready for fatherhood. Frankly, he welcomed it with open arms. He already loved his little girl so much that he couldn’t imagine that love growing anymore than it already is. How is that even possible?

When those first real contractions hit in the middle of the night – much different than the “practice” ones from before – your first instinct isn’t to wake up Mike. No, you let him sleep. You scamper into the kitchen, lay down on the couch and turn on Modern Family. They weren’t far enough apart yet. No point in going to the hospital. No point in waking up your boyfriend. Until your water breaks, you are going to relax as much as you can until the pain permeates to the point of surrender.

You don’t have to wake him up though, because that boy senses your absent presence, and goes looking for you. It wasn’t unusual to find you in the kitchen in the middle of the night; when a craving calls, it calls. This time though, he caught you in the middle of a contraction. Not unbearable – you were even able to talk through it, but he saw it in your eyes. Less than a minute, and it was over.

When you told him you’ve been having contractions for the last hour, you might as well have told him you joined a cult.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He was aghast.

“There’s no point right now! Can’t even go to the hospital. This could last for hours, Michael. Hours. Maybe in the morning something worth telling you about will happen.” You didn’t mean it in a bad way. Obviously, anything that happens in this pregnancy he wants to know about. To you, this was nothing. If the contractions weren’t five minutes apart, then why bother? “Go back to sleep, okay? Get your rest while you can.”

“You really think I can just go back to sleep when you’re in labor?”

“Early labor, it barely counts.”

“It does count.”

“When my water breaks, then I’ll bother you with my problems. But for now, I’m chillin’.”

By morning, seven hours later, things had progressed enough for you to roll over onto your side and shake your boyfriend awake.

“It fucking hurts.”

“It’s just early labor, babe, it barely counts.”

“I will break up with you—do not test me right now.”

It wasn’t until the afternoon when your water broke in the middle of the kitchen as he was making you grilled cheese. (You made him finish the grilled cheese before leaving). Once at the hospital, he fed you ice chips, massaged your back, kissed your forehead, and let you fracture each of his fingers. He did nearly pass out when you got your epidural, and again when you did eventually give birth. His excuse was he had forgotten to eat because he was so focused on you, but you remember how white he got watching a real birth video in preparation for this moment.

Once you begin pushing, he’s beside you, brushing the hair out of your face, letting you squeeze his hand until it’s purple. He’s so gentle with his encouragements, whispering it in your ear and kissing your temple. He can’t put into words how amazed he is with you in this moment. He thought he loved you before, but that love has grown exponentially. You not only grew and protected their child, but you were putting yourself through hell to bring her into this world. It’s something he’ll never know firsthand, and he knows he’ll never be able to look at you the same way from now on. You really were the most incredible woman he has ever had the pleasure of knowing.

When they hear that first cry, he nearly breaks into sobs. All those months of waiting, and being very impatient about it, have finally come to an end, and his baby girl is right there. She’s so tiny—how is she so tiny? How is she so tiny but expelling a cry so loud and raucous?

“She has a set of lungs on her, for sure.”

When they set her on your chest, she instantly quietens. She knows that’s her momma. Mike has to cover his mouth to control his cries. None of the books taught him how to handle the moment he meets his baby girl for the first time. He leans over and caresses his finger over her hand—holy fuck it’s so tiny! Instinctively, she grabs his finger, and refuses to let go. There’s nothing quite as strong as a baby’s grip.

He loses count of how many times he tells you he loves you. A million times wouldn’t even be enough.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 13

part 1, prev part

There’s this feeling at the top of a roller coaster that is meant to excite, to look forward to. Where the exhilaration and adrenaline kicks in and everyone feels like the top of the world. Only for the calm to set in when the ride is over, and the line keeps growing to feel it all again.

If life were a rollercoaster, Dustin’s would be a fucked up one. Where just as the drop finishes, and everything seems to calm down, the machine starts to clink and bring you back up to the top again. Over. And Over. And Over again.

Dustin’s scared that this calm won’t be so calm tomorrow. Or in a year when life gets back to normal again, and the people in hospital are out and better, like it does. Just for it all to go to a burning pile of shitty hell. For Dustin to end up sitting in the hospital chairs again.

Never the bed.

It’s not that he’s upset that he’s healthy. It’s not that he’s upset that he’s never had to stay in the hospital for a night. It’s just the fact that while everyone else seems to get hurt, he stays perfectly fine. And he doesn’t know why.

He’s put himself in dangerous situations. Fights, tunnels, right in front of a fucking demogorgon. In all the scenarios, he should have gotten hurt. There wasn’t a book that he read where everyone walked away perfectly fine.

Frodo walked to Mordor and wasn’t fine. Neither was Samwise. Dustin’s not a Frodo or a Samwise, maybe he’s a Mary or Pippin. They didn’t walk away without a scratch either. His DnD character can’t even get out of a battle without dying.

Why is he so okay? Why have his dice always rolled so high?

And why does he seem to be more bothered that this than the people in the hospital beds?

Max is smiling and laughing right now. She’s almost like she was last summer. Making fun of them in a way that kinda stung sometimes but mostly was out of love. Not thinking about the fact that she might never ride a skateboard again. Not thinking about the fact that she won’t see the way their faces change as they grow. The way her own face will change as she grows.

Her life has changed in a way that can’t be changed back. How is she not having a bigger reaction to this?

“Hey,” Max calls out in Dustin’s direction. “Come here, I want to feel your face.”

“Huh?”

Mike groans from across the room. “She’s been doing it with everyone. It’s just an excuse to mess with you.”

Max rolls her clouded eyes. “The blind girl wants to make sure he friends are ok. There are no other ulterior motive here.”

“You’re just going to poke him in the eye or some shit.”

“My hands are my eyes now, Michael.”

Mike rolls his eyes, giving Dustin a look like “I warned you.”

Lucas gets up from the chair closest to Max to let Dustin get closer. He leans closer to the bed as Max reaches out her hands to find his face. She pokes around, finding the brim of his hat and pulls it down to his nose.

“Idiot,” Max snorts.

“Told you,” Mike says. Will smacks him in the arm.

Dustin makes a face while fixing his hat, switching seats with Lucas. And then again when El comes in. The room sounding anything like a hospital. Like Mike’s basement while they are watching movies or hanging out. Like the worst didn’t happen and just a week ago, where Max wasn’t just told she would be blind forever.

He walks out of the room and heads to Eddie’s. Eddie who’s awake, but not really. Who opens his eyes and it makes Dustin so happy. Just to see something that resembles him, but isn’t just quite it.

Happiness comes and goes so fast that Dustin almost misses it. Overshadowed by this feeling of knowing that nothing is going back to the way it was. He’ll never be the person he was before. None of them will.

That’s the worst part of this all. He’s seen the way that Will became quieter. Different in a way that none of them will really understand. Saw the way that Max shut down after Billy died. Overcome by her grief. How Steve pushes himself so hard he breaks, and Robin tries to forget it all even happened. Saw how pain can cause a person to die.

The doctors still don’t know what’s going to happen when Eddie finishes waking up. They won’t know how long he’ll still be here, or what damage is in his body. To his brain. His nerves. If he’ll be able to play guitar again. Dustin never even got to see him play a real concert. He wanted to see that.

Time keeps passing and Eddie’s missing it. Classes have restarted and he won’t catch up. Not when he’ll still be in recovery for months. He won’t be walking across that stage to get his diploma. He might not even get it at all.

Dustin takes his seat next to Wayne and just looks at Eddie. Can’t bring himself to take the book out of his bag and read. Wanting to find any sign that this was all worth it. That the painful hope that Dustin is clinging to isn’t dragging him to the bottom. That Eddie will continue to wake up tomorrow.

“You ok, Dustin?”

“Every day I come in here and wish he would say something. Anything.”

Wayne nods, as solemn as he always is. “Me too.”

“You’re back in school now, right? How’s that going?”

School is a completely different battle. The Hellfire shirt that he wore with pride is now an endless target. The insults that would already be slung his way amplified. Walking through the halls feels like shooting range. Another reminder that he knows a truth that none of them will.

“As good as you’d expect it to.”

Another nod. It’s nice to have someone listen to him without trying to fix it. Just let him talk at his own pace without trying to make it better. Make him feel any differently than he does. It brings a comfort to Dustin that he never really knew, or understands.

“Where’s that book of yours, I was starting to get invested.”

“I’m not sure I’m up for reading it today.”

Wayne shrugs. “Why don’t I then? I can’t do the voices like you or Ed do, but I can read.”

It’s like Wayne knows the real reason why Dustin’s reading the book. Makes him feel weirdly seen. Like for a moment, someone understood him more than he wanted them too.

Still, he takes the book out of his bag and hands it to Wayne. Watches as he turns to the page and messes up the character names. Take a breath each time one of the weirder ones comes up and sounds it out. Trying his best to get it all right, even though he’s still doing it a little wrong.

Next part

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[gilverrwrites]

Heyy I was wondering if you could do a friends to lovers with Gabriel if you do write for him (if not just ignore this haha) I don’t really have any specific requests other than the friends to lovers haha :)

Aware Of Your Stare

AN: I do, I do! Hope this is the kinda thing you had in mind 💛

Pairing: Gabriel/GN!Reader

Words: 2K

Content: Friends to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, kissing, petnames, (mild) arguing, but mainly fluff.

Please remember: Your feelings are valid.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

You’re woken by the feel of something soft tickling the tip of your nose. You lean away and glare up through half-lidded eyes at the perpetrator. Gabriel, who is lounging beside you in nothing but his vest and boxers. Angels typically don't sleep, so they often find themselves trying to kill time. When there isn't an imminent threat or apocalypse on the horizon anyway.

Castiel patrols the bunker like a guard dog, watching its residents (mainly Dean) sleep. Michael lets Adam sleep to give him that sense of human normality. You weren’t really sure how that worked, but you assumed he found some kind of respite in it.

Gabe, however, despite being able to go anywhere and conjure anything with anyone, liked to set up shop for the night in your room, where he would binge-watch TV and get pastry crumbs all over your comforter.

“Quit it.” You mutter before shutting your eyes again and nuzzling back into your pillow.

“You quit is.” He responds, following your nose with his finger. “You’re too loud. Nick is trying to cheer up Jess after she broke up with her boyfriend at the holiday party, and you’re snoring right over it.”

“Ugh.” You reach up to bat his hand away, and he briefly retreats. With your eyes closed, you don’t realise he’s simply relocating his attack before it’s too late.

You kick and flail at him desperately, crying out for him to stop, but it’s no use, damn his archangel strength. You’re at his mercy until he lets you go. When he eventually subsides, you shove him away, and he plays along, rolling back to his side of the bed. “You’re the worst.”

“Nah, you love me really, sugar.” He replies, opening his arms wide and grinning at you.

You feign a glare before following his lead and crawling into his arms. With the snap of his fingers, he rewinds the TV, and you slowly fall back asleep under the gentle feel of him stroking your back.

“Hey, I don’t care what or who you do in the privacy of your own room, but could you keep it down? A man needs his sleep.”

You blink at Dean over your morning coffee. The caffeine must not have kicked in yet because there is no way he just said what he said. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it.” He shrugs at you, exasperated, as he pours his own coffee.

“Say what?” You push, irritated by the implication.

“You and Gabriel. You know….”

“No! I don’t know!” You stand from the breakfast table, too charged to sit still but too engaged to leave. “Nothing is going on between me and Gabriel. We’re just friends.”

The expression on Dean's face shows that he doesn’t believe a word out of your mouth. “The way you two look at each other. Nah, there’s nothing “friendly” about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You rack your brain, trying to recall how you look at him and how he looks at you, but fail to find anything not ‘friendly’ about it. Sure, he was handsome, fun, and easy to be around, but that doesn’t mean anything. “How do we—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The sound of wings fluttering makes you jump. Gabriel now sits opposite your spot at the table, and you can’t help but look at him now to examine his honey-tinted hazel eyes; they were beautiful. But they weren’t looking at you differently than you’d expect. Shit, were you looking at him funny? Like you wanted him?

Your skin tingled with embarrassment, and you forced yourself to sit back down and look away from him.

“Friends?” Dean wiggles his brows at you as he swiftly exits. Dropping a spanner in your brain's inner workings and exiting stage left. Asshole.

“What was that about?” Gabriel asks as he leans over to take your coffee. He sips, scrunches his lips, and proceeds to add an unholy amount of sugar. Old habits die hard. When you spend too long contemplating he nudges at you. “Hey, what’s up, hon?”

Hon. You’d never batted an eyelid at that or any other pet name he’d given you since becoming friends. So why was it making you feel funny now?

“Nothing.” You assure him as you stand once again and begin heading to the door. “I gotta go, I’ve got… stuff to do.”

“You want some company?” He swings around on the bench, ready to follow.

“No! No, thank you.” You shake your head as you leave without another word.

You didn’t see him again for a while, having taken off to hunt a pack of werewolves a few states over. You couldn’t deny that Dean had shaken something inside you. The fact that your instinctive response was to protest so adamantly was your first clue. The distance had given you time to clear your head. Enjoying someone’s presence and appearance didn’t mean you had to pursue anything more. He is your friend, and that’s all you need. You weren’t going to mess with the balance.

That’s what you told yourself as you entered your room to find Gabe inside. He’d clearly been making use of the space while you were gone. The trashcan was overflowing with empty candy wrappers, the bed was unmade, and a puddle of something fruity smelling seeped out from under your bedside table. One would think he didn’t have the power to clean all that up in a second. You might have complained, had you not also noticed that your laundry basket was empty, and your desk had been organised precisely the way you liked it. Priorities.

“You’re back!” He smiled as he crossed the room and engulfed you in a hug. He smelled warm and inviting, like mocha and malted sugar. Had he always smelled so good? You wondered as you melted into him. So engulfed, you almost missed the subtle way he sniffed in your own scent. You couldn’t help but hope he liked it. You’re not sure how long you stayed like that before Gabriel broke the silence. “Come on, get ready. The circus is in town.”

“The circus? Really?” You groaned as he released you. “I’m tired, I just want to chill.”

“You can chill later. We'll have a good time, I promise.”

“Why do you even want to go?” You ask as you dump your travel bag on the floor and dramatically collapse onto your bed. Trying to emphasise your tiredness.

“Why don’t you?” Gabriel approaches, standing over you and looking down at you sternly.

“Ummm, the crowds,” you lift your arm into the air, lining your hand up with his face as you count the reasons with your fingers: “the loud noises, the clowns…”

“I’ve seen your dating history.” Gabe bats your hand down before pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You love clowns.”

Usually, you would have laughed. That was a classic comeback, but he would almost certainly take your laughter as a victory, so you force a straight face and push back any creeping notions that maybe he was jealous of your exes.

“How long have you been on earth?” You ask him, readying your next argument. He shrugs, and you can sense his amused interest in where you’re going with this. “You could go to any circus, anytime, anywhere. Who gives a shit about some two-bit, washed-up roadside circus?���

You wonder briefly if you might subconsciously be comparing yourself to the circus. He’s an angel, after all, an archangel. Of all the beings on earth, why does he choose to spend so much time with you? Again, you shut down the thought process before it gets away from you.

Gabriel is looking down at you, brows furrowed. Instead of answering your question, he crosses his arms and asks, “Jeez honey, what bit you in the ass?”

“A werewolf.” You reply deadpan.

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, and you notice how his eyes wander down your body. He can’t see your ass from his position, but you’re pretty sure he’s trying. The thought makes you feel flushed.

“No.” Playfully, you kick your leg at him until he gives way, allowing you space to stand and face him. “Okay, fine, but you’re paying.”

As you watch the trapeze artists flying across the tent, you admit to yourself that you were, in fact, having a good time. The acts were good, the clowns weren’t that scary, and the atmosphere was lively. Everything smelt like popcorn, and the stands weren’t as sticky as you’d feared.

You glance over at Gabriel, who is on his third cotton candy cone (you are totally not jealous of his metabolism). You could never confess to having a good time; he’d never let it go. Besides, if the smug side-eye he's giving you is any indication, he already knew.

“Want some?” He offers you the cotton candy, and you can’t stop from grinning as you lean over. Your fingers brush against his as you steady the cone to take a piece, and your cheeks start to warm up. 

The candy is sweet on your tongue, and you let your smile grow to show your approval. Gabe laughs in response. You begin to shift back to your seat, but you’re stopped by the feel of his warm hand on your lower back, tenderly holding you close to him as he quietly speaks. “You have got to stop looking at me like that.”

Your eyes widen, and you must look like a deer in the headlights because he’s laughing again. Laughing at you, is he teasing you.

“Looking at you like what?” Your voice is quiet, nothing like it had been when Dean accused you of the same thing. 

“Like…” He tilts his head back briefly, searching for the correct words. “Like you want me, in the biblical sense.”

If your eyes weren’t about to pop out before, they were now.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” He continues, now tilting his head forward until his face is almost pressed to yours. He’s been this close before, closer, in fact, so why was your breath hitching now? “Tell me to stop, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

Maybe you should have slowed to think about it, although your answer likely would have been the same. You answer quickly, instinctively. “Don’t stop.”

Clowns and acrobats forgotten, you initiate the kiss before you talk yourself out of it. His lips are soft and sickeningly sweet, his stubble itches at your skin, but you immediately want more.

Sensing your neediness, Gabriel pulls your body closer and deepens the kiss. You’re about to open your mouth, to try for more access, but the sound of someone deliberately coughing distracts you both.

Your heads turn simultaneously to see a rather unimpressed mother glaring at you, and you both laugh in response.

“Wanna get out of here?” He quirks his head to the exit, and you nod. He holds your hand and follows close behind as you lead the way, down the stalls, outside the tent. As soon as you’re free from prying eyes he flies you back home. The perks of having an angel best friend, a boyfriend, a lover, a something who still has their wings. It only takes a second, but it still gives you a brief stint of motion sickness. When you’re steady on your feet again, you look over to Gabriel, suddenly feeling shy and unsure how to proceed.

He’s smiling at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s a smile entirely for your benefit. “If you’ve changed your mind, we don’t have to do anything.”

“No. No, I haven’t.” You assure him, reaching out and gently holding onto his upper arm as you step closer until you’re chest to chest. “I want this. I guess I just didn’t realise until... very recently.”

“Yeah.” The cheery glint in his eye returns. “I want you too.”

You initiate the kiss again, enjoying the now familiar sugariness of his mouth. This time he deepens the kiss without disruption, then your tongue brushes against his for the first time he lets out an involuntary moan that makes your brain go fuzzy. 

When you pull away to breathe, you watch his expression. Clearly aware of your stare, he darts his eyes over to the bed, then back at you, and gives his brows a suggestive wiggle. “Shall we?”

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

Max: Billie Billie: shhh Michel Cera is about to say he’s gotta pee on her Michael Cera: I gotta pee on her Billie: aahaha! Max: I suggested Scott Pilgrim once and now it’s all we watch Billie: you should’ve suggested something less good then Billie: oh this reminds me! What did Elsa say that left you so emotionally distraught the other night Max: …how did ‘’I gotta pee on her’’ lead to that Max: sigh She made an excel sheet to help me pick a guy to date. Because she thinks that’s what I should do instead of whatever I’m doing right now Billie: oh my gosh Max: I know, she’s sick Billie: she’s a GENIUS! Max: what Billie: Max! you NEED to get a boyfriend! Max: I said DATES I- Is it that bad to prefer one night stands?? Billie: it’s not about the one night stands, it’s about you! Max: that makes it even worse. Billie: I mean, there has to be a reason you don’t contact those guys after fucking around, right? Right?? Do you GET it!!! Max: …I’m not letting an e-dater question my love life?? Billie: I’m just saying, Max! if I was you I would totally think about it. and do it. Because it could help me out. Just go on some dates and experience something different from what you’re used to Michel Cera: You once were a ve-gone, but now you will begone. Max: christ.

Ale: Maximiliano! I was just wondering ''what could that gorgeous little imp be up to tonight'' so WHAT have you been up to?! Ale: it’s rhetoric, I really don’t wanna know haha! Max: hey uh… yeah, it’s been a while. Sorry about that. I swear I really wanted to text you Ale: you don’t say Max: I’m trying to be honest you moron Ale: ooh. oh. can we leave it for some other time? Over some brunch maybe? My girlfriend is here Max: excuse me Jackie: hi Max! I’m Jackie. Big fan! Ale: she means that Max: I’m sorry when did you get one of those? Jackie: he’s so funny Ale: like a week ago. Ain’t she adorable? Max: oh yes she’s a sweetie. Totes. Ale: i think you two would adore each other, for real Ale: anyways! What have you been up to? Hangin’ there?

Billie: he’s with child Max: he’s with WOMAN Max: how- WHY didn’t he tell me?! We were JUST seeing each other a a couple months ago Billie: BABE babe calm down. Why did you call him anyways? Max: because he was head first on Elsa’s sheet, now I’ll need to phone this OTHER dickhead that meets most of my standards and I kinda have a thing for. Stupid fucking Jackie I hope you die Billie: hey… let’s detox. Take my word, no more men for the rest of the week. Max: no more men. You. Billie: If there’s something I love more than Pierce, is my hunger for sistership Max: you know I’m not a woman right Billie: No boys, only us. And Michael Cera. Max: … Billie: trust me, I’m your girl.

[faun-the-fawn77]

"𝐻𝒪𝑀𝐸"

Lucifer Morningstar x F!Angel!Reader

Genre: FLUFF/ANGST

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Lilith is a bitch, manipulation, violence, emotional abuse, Michael is okay now, Lucifer and Y/N very much in love, Adam isn't an asshole but he still swears

Desc: PART TWO! After that phone call, Lucifer couldn’t go back to his room. Not with Lilith in it. He fell asleep in the little loveseat by the window with his phone in hand, Y/N’s number on full display. The cleaning imp came into the room that morning to tidy up when they spotted the king curled up in the loveseat. They picked up the discarded phone only to notice that a number from Heaven had called…and that the call lasted well into the night. The imp looked at their king and back down to the phone. Surely Lilith had to know about this. She’s the queen! Lucifer woke up slowly and noticed Lilith sitting at his desk with a cup of tea in hand and another cup placed at the chair in front of the desk. Lucifer then knew that Lilith had found out… And Hell was about to rain down.

Note: ahhhh long summary again:') i dont like filler chapters so i try to put more detail in summaries so i dont have to write out a lil something for before the event. Hope you don't mind! Also! Requests are open!!

I’m staring out into the night

Tryin’ to hide the pain

I’m going to the place where love

And feeling good don’t ever cost a thing

And the pain you feel’s a different kind of pain

The view from the top of Heaven’s headquarters in Hell was beautiful. It felt as if you could reach Heaven just by stretching your arm out towards it. Lucifer was doing just that. He wanted to be home. To be in the arms of his lover once more. The fight with Lilith that day really drained him and it hurt him badly with some of the words she spat at him. He knew it wasn’t true, what Lilith had said about Y/N. Trying to hide the pain from his face when she said those awful things was hard. 

He sat atop the building some more to make sure his emotions were in check before he took off to his daughter’s hotel. Despite them being sinners, the people there made him feel loved. His daughter was doing absolutely amazing with her hotel. It’s a place where feeling good never costs a thing. 

Lucifer spread out his six wings and took flight towards the redemption hotel. He wanted to talk to Charlie about the call. Get some ideas and pointers about… well, everything. He had to make sure that Charlie knew that he and her mother were over and that he wanted to get back together with his actual wife. 

He created a portal mid-flight and soared right into the lobby of the hotel. He put his wings away and dropped to the carpeted ground. He noticed the cat demon at the bar cleaning glasses and stopping to sip on a bottle of whiskey. 

Lucifer walked towards the bar and took a seat. He huffed and grumpily asked the cat, “Where’s Charlie?”

Husk looked up and raised a brow at the grumpy king. He set down the glass he was cleaning and brought out the ingredients to make an appletini. 

“She’s doing some exercise with the others. Said she’ll be back in…actually a few minutes.” Lucifer grumbled some more. He needed to talk to his daughter and he couldn’t wait the few minutes. The appletini was slid in front of him and he picked it up only to down it in one go.

Charlie burst through the doors of the hotel with her girlfriend, Vaggie, and the rest of the residents in tow. Charlie took one look at her father, who was downing drinks left and right, and immediately knew something was wrong. 

“Hey, dad! How-uh-how are you today?” Charlie placed a hand on her fathers shoulder as comfort. Lucifer turned to look at her and he immediately lit up with happiness. 

“Oh, my sweet apple! You have no idea how much I’ve needed to talk to you! Come! Let’s head to the penthouse!” Lucifer took his daughter’s hand and dragged her through the gold portal he created with a snap of his claws. Vaggie tried to follow only for the portal shut close in front of her.

Lucifer sat Charlie on the couch and took a seat next to her. He took a deep breath before telling her everything, “Char, your mother and I are…no longer together. Considering a little someone I know gave my wife my number, Lilith found out about the night we talked and we had gotten into a fight.”

Charlie looked at her dad. She knew that he knew it was her that gave Y/N his number. Charlie loved Y/N when they first met in Heaven. She was so sweet and Charlie could see how much Y/N missed Lucifer. When they had talked after the meeting, Charlie learned what her mother had done to the two lovers. How she had manipulated her father into doing those sins and that her mother was the one that made Lucifer fall and get torn away from Y/N. She wanted so bad to tear Lilith a new one but that just wasn’t her. Sure, she had her mother’s temper but Lilith was still her mother. She’ll definitely have few choice words for Lilith when she goes to her family home. 

“Does she hate Y/N that bad? What did Y/N ever do to her?” Lucifer looked at his daughter and let out a sad laugh.

“Y/N had what Lilith wanted: Me. Lilith was human and humans are tempted by the things they can’t have. When Lilith saw Y/N talking to me in the garden after I had visited Adam, that’s when she started to speak to me. It gradually went from normal conversations to Lilith flirting with me and touching me in ways only a lover should. I should have stopped it but I didn’t know any better. I have never interacted with humans considering they were the first to be created. When Y/N had yelled at me that day and we fought about it, I finally realised what was happening. Lilith figured it out and started to manipulate me into thinking that Y/N hated me and that she didn’t want me around so… I Fell. I Fell because of your mother.” Charlie was quiet. She was processing everything that her dad had said. She was even more upset that her mother was cruel enough to tear her dad and, what could’ve been her mom, apart. 

“When I talked with Y/N last night, she mentioned a plan.” Charlie perked up at that.

“A plan? Do you know what her plan is?” Lucifer shook his head. He wished he knew but Y/N said she had it under control and that it will be happening sooner rather than later. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see, apple pie.”

Well, I’m going home

Back to the place where I belong

And where your love has always been enough for me

I’m not running from

No, I think you got me all wrong

I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

So I’m going home

Y/N called him a few minutes later. Charlie was still with her dad, Vaggie had joined them. Lucifer was quick to answer the phone and put it on speaker so the other two could hear.

“Hello, love. How are you?” Her voice was sweet. Vaggie immediately recognised the voice as the one who would always talk to Adam during their training. That was the only time Vaggie had ever seen Adam polite and smiling a genuine smile. 

Vaggie was quick to blurt out, “You’re the one who talks to Adam during the exorcist training days,” she covered her mouth in embarrassment. Charlie giggled while Lucifer looked at the other fallen angel with a smirk.

“Oh? There’s another fallen angel down there?” Lucifer hummed and confirmed. He made sure to mention that his daughter and her lover were there in the room.

“Charlie! Oh, I’ve missed you! And I assume Vaggie is the one that joined you in Heaven for the meeting? I’m sad that we couldn’t talk then.” Vaggie blushed at how sweet the archangel’s voice was. 

“What did you want to talk about, honey?” Lucifer and them could hear muffles on the other end. 

“The plan. It’s happening now. Adam is the one that mainly uses the portals to Hell and when I mentioned to him that I had gotten back in contact with you, he jumped to help out immediately. He misses his best friend, Luci. He wants to destroy Lilith for what she did to us and to Eve.” Charlie and Vaggie were surprised by this information. Adam was best friends with Lucifer? But Adam hated Hell…

“I’ve missed him as well. So, what’s the plan?” The three of them leaned closer to the phone to hear the plan.

“Adam is gonna open a portal for me. He’s going to lead the army down and make an attack but only to injure, not kill. He has a special group of exorcists that he’ll lead to where Lilith currently is and try to subdue her. If we can trap her and cage her, we’ll have you three and the army will retreat to Heaven. I’ll then demand a meeting with Michael and Sera to explain what had happened eons ago. Who was responsible and that Hell can make things work between them and Heaven. Hopefully, with you three there and Adam, we’ll have Lilith locked away for eternity and we can have the sinners down there redeemed with Charlie’s hotel and that you guys can visit up here whenever.” The three were silent. They looked at each other and then nodded.

“Sounds amazing, Y/N! Oh, I’m so excited for this! Just-uh- can I talk to my mom first?” Charlie nervously asked. She wasn’t gonna mention any of this to Lilith but she wanted answers.

“Of course, sweetheart. I know that she’s still your mother and that you have questions for her. And I know you won’t mention this to her.” Charlie almost cried. Lilith was never this sweet to her. Lilith wanted her to rule Hell but now that Y/N is back in picture… Charlie wanted to see what Heaven was like and to see her father happy. 

“I’ve always known that Hell wasn’t truly my home… and that dad had missed something about Heaven. When I was there, I just…felt so at home. Like I belonged. Adam was welcoming when I said my last name. He made sure to take my side during the meeting with Sera,” Charlie stammered out. 

“You’ll be home soon, sweetpea. Go talk to your mom and when you’re back at the hotel have your dad text me and we’ll begin with the plan.” Charlie mumbled a yes and went to gather her thoughts before confronting her mother.

Lucifer watched as Vaggie guided his daughter out of the penthouse. He turned to the phone and sighed.

“I know this is hard on her but…”

“There is no ‘but’, Luci. It’s her mother. Sure, her mother is a bitch but she’s only known Lilith as her mother and not as the monster that tore Heaven apart. That tore us apart.” Lucifer was quiet. Y/N was right. Charlie is gonna have a hard time accepting that her mother is evil. 

“I can’t wait to be home. The places and faces down here are getting old. We’ll just have to make sure that the Sin’s can also visit. They’ll love you!” That’s when Lucifer went on to talk about his family down here and Y/N asking questions about them.

Well, I’m going home

The miles are getting longer, it seems

The closer I get to you

I’ve not always been the best man or friend for you

But your love remains true, and I don’t know why

You always seem to give me another try

Charlie was livid. She loved her mom and now? She doesn’t think she can love her the same again. When she had arrived at the manor, Lilith was smiling and sitting on the couch in the living room. She was swirling a glass of tequila around in her hand and beckoned her daughter to sit by her.

“Charlie! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” Charlie took a seat away from her, on the chair closest to the exit. Charlie folded her hands in her lap to keep her shaking at a minimum.

“Hello, mother. I-uh-I missed you too…” Lilith tilted her head, setting her drink down, and leaning closer towards Charlie’s direction. The smile on her face was unnerving for Charlie.

“Why so nervous? It’s just your mother!” Charlie laughed nervously. She bounced her leg with anxiety and looked away from her mom.

“I have a few questions for you… I hop-”

“Is this about your father and that stupid bitch of an angel? For the love of Satan, that bitch manages to screw me over now of all times? And to turn my daughter against me?” Lilith broke the glass of alcohol in her hand. Charlie jumped and sunk as far as she could into the chair. She’s never seen her mother this mad.

“Y/N is not a-”

“Of course she is, darling! She had what I wanted and when I made sure that the two had hated each other, someone gave Lucifer her number and now they know the truth! Now my plan is in ruins all thanks to the fucking prick who-”

“I gave Y/N his number.” That shut Lilith up quickly. Lilith turned to look at her daughter who was red in the face with anger.

“I gave her dad’s number because when I went up there to convince them that my redemption plan will work, I ran into her and we got to talking. When I brought up dad, I have never seen a being so sad. She told me everything so when I talked to dad about it today…Why would you do that? They’re so in love and you destroyed something that was so pure. Are humans really that selfish?” Charlie could feel the tears in her eyes. Her mother, a human turned demon, was really so selfish? Selfish enough to turn two lovers against each other because she wanted Lucifer?

“Humans have always been selfish! Have you seen the amount of sinners here in Hell? They’re all here because they’re selfish!” Charlie stood up, marched up to the taller demoness, and slapped her across the face.

“You are not my mom. You’re not fit to even be a mother. A mother is supposed to care about her child! She’s supposed to be sweet and nurturing! You are a monster!” Charlie huffed. The tears burned down her cheeks as she stared at the shocked look on Lilith’s face. A handprint was beginning to redden on Lilith’s cheek. 

“I hope you rot.” With that, Charlie walked out of the manor that she had once called home. 

Lucifer hugged his crying daughter to his chest. He held her tightly, rocking side to side, shushing her quietly and whispering reassurances into her pointed ear. He wanted so badly to rain Hell down upon that bitch but his daughter was more important. He sat her onto the couch, covering her in a blanket and motioning for Vaggie to take over. 

“I’m gonna send a text out to Y/N and tell her we’re ready.” Vaggie nodded, holding tightly onto her girlfriend 

“I’m glad Y/N gave you another try, dad…” CHarlie mumbled. Lucifer looked at her and smiled. Even in her current state, Charlie had put others before herself. Lucifer was glad that Y/N had contacted him. He definitely wasn’t the best being or friend but at least Y/N and Adam are giving him another try. Another chance.

So I’m going home

Back to the place where I belong

And where your love has always been enough for me

I’m not running from

No, I think you got me all wrong

I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

Y/N was pacing in front of the Garden. Adam was late. Why was he late? She chewed on her thumb nail as a million thoughts ran through her head about what could’ve happened to her friend. 

“Where are you…” She muttered to herself. The flap of wings caught her attention and she looked up to see the golden wings of her beloved friend frantically flying her way. The breath stuck in her throat was released as the weight from her shoulders lifted. 

“Oh my, Adam! I almost had a panic attack! Why are you so late?” Adam was panting from how fast he had to fly there. He placed both of his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. Lute was up my ass about Sera needing me for something. I totally ditched them but I’m so gonna get an earful from both of them later. So, is Luci boy in on the plan?” Y/N smiled. She told him what went down. That Lilith was gonna be in foul mood now that her own daughter had turned against her.

“Let’s bring them home, Adam. Right where they belong.” Adam hugged Y/N to him and patted her back. He knew how much she missed her husband. Lucifer was everything to her. They’ve been together since almost the beginning of time. Adam could see why Lucifer had chosen her out of all the others. She was sweet, charismatic, and so kind to every soul that was in Heaven. She was always there for Adam when he needed her, especially when the whole thing with Eve happened. 

“I wish I could kill that blonde bitch but… making her suffer in Heaven’s jail? That’s definitely punishment enough.” Adam smirked and pulled his mask back on. 

“Let’s do this!” 

In Hell, Lucifer waited for a text from his wife that they were on their way. When his phone quacked, he lunged for it and checked to see if it was his beloved. 

“They’re here! Everyone! Aim to injure, not kill! They’re here as our friend, not enemy. Lilith has run this place into the ground far enough!” The residents of the hotel hollered with glee and proceeded to ready themselves for attack. Lucifer flew towards his daughter to make sure she was protected.

“Ready, apple pie?” Charlie nodded. She wanted both Heaven and Hell to thrive. If getting rid of her mo- Lilith was the best way then she was all for it.

“I’m ready, dad.” The two smiled at each other. 

The portal to Heaven opened and an army of grey-clad angels rained down on the ring of Pride. Lucifer saw Adam and a group of angels head towards the manor. The group prepared for combat only to see that none of the angels went near the hotel. They seemed to steer clear of the area.

Lucifer was confused. He was told that this was supposed to be made as an attack. He turned around when the others gasped. He almost cried tears of joy at the sight of his wife in front of him. He raced towards the taller angel and caged her in with a bear hug. 

“Oh my Father, I’ve missed you! I didn’t think I would ever get the chance to touch you again…” Lucifer cried into her neck. This is the happiest he’s been since Charlie was born. He was home.

“I’ve missed you too, Luci.” Y/N whispered into his hair. She hugged him just as tightly, like he was gonna disappear from her arms. 

Lucifer pulled away, took her face into his hands, and kissed her. Her lips were just as soft as he remembered. Her face was wet with tears but so was his. He moaned into the kiss and tangled his claws into her hair. He could feel his lover’s hands dig into his back as she kissed back just as passionately. 

Charlie awed at the sight. She grabbed onto Vaggie’s hand and looked at her with love. Vaggie was blushing but smiling at the love of her life. 

“Dad? Sorry to interrupt but I think Adam had cau-”

“WHAT’S UP, BITCHES!” Adam’s booming voice yelled out from the sky. The couple and others looked up to see Adam and his army holding Lilith, who was bound by Heavenly rope, entering their field of view. Lilith was dropped onto the ground roughly. Her dress was shredded in places and one of her horns were broken off, cuts and bruises littered her violet skin. 

“She must’ve really put up a fight, huh?” Lucifer looked at Lilith with contempt. Lilith glared past him and right at Y/N.

“Ready to head back to Heaven?” Y/N gathered Charlie in her arms while Vaggie and Lucifer spread out their wings. 

“Alastor! Please watch over the hotel while I’m gone!” Charlie yelled out. The angels took flight and flew through the portal that was open to Heaven. This was it. Hopefully this was the end of the war between Heaven and Hell.

Be careful what you wish for

‘Cause you just might get it all

You just might get it all

And then some you don’t want

Be careful what you wish for

‘Cause you just might get it all

You just might get it all, yeah

“What are these… beings…doing here, Y/N?” Michael was looking at Lucifer with disgust. Sera was glaring holes into Adam, who avoided the seraphim’s gaze. 

“Michael, do you remember why Lucifer was kicked out of Heaven?” Michael slowly nodded, switching his gaze from his brother to his brother’s ex-wife, or, what he assumed was his ex-wife.

“Well, when his daughter had visited a few weeks ago, I had gotten in contact with the king of Hell himself. Do you wanna know what I have learned?” Y/N nodded towards Adam. Adam nodded back and dragged Lilith, who was still bound, into the centre of the room. The angels around had gasped at the sight of the once beautiful human. Lilith glared at everyone and stopped her gaze on Michael. Michael was looking at her in surprise.

“I have learned that the mastermind behind the Lightbringer’s Fall was this human. She had become selfish, as humans do, and manipulated Lucifer into committing the sins that had caused him to Fall. The evidence comes from Lucifer himself, Adam, and the recording on Charlie Morningstar’s phone of when she had confronted her mother.” The angels on the balconies murmured to each other and looked at the fallen human with anger. 

Michael looked towards Sera, the seraphim frowning, and looked back at Y/N. He nodded and told them to make their statements.

Adam was the first to state about his time in the Garden. How Lilith had ignored him when he tried to talk to her just to get to know her. He told them how he had befriended Lucifer, who snuck into the Garden, and that Lucifer was slowly being manipulated after witnessing Lilith’s anger towards Y/N. 

Lucifer stood up next and told his side of the story. The angels were surprised by how sad the Morningstar was when he recounted his tale of Falling and having to leave his wife behind. That he thought she had hated him for the longest time because that was what Lilith had made him think. 

Finally, Charlie stood up and produced her phone. She tapped her screen and soon enough the recording played out. Everyone turned their eyes towards the demoness who sat silently. A smirk played on her dark lips and malice swirled in her red eyes.

Y/N stood up and looked at Michael, “Now, should we hear from the human herself?” Michael gazed intently into the smaller angel. He could feel his thoughts fighting to believe these angels. That humans could really be this selfish. He nodded slowly once again. 

Lilith sat up and smiled, “I didn’t do anything. Lucifer was the one that manipulated me. I’m only a human! How could I have power over an archangel?” 

Michael glared into the demoness’ eyes. He was royally pissed at this scum. With a booming voice, he announced, “Lilith, queen of Hell, is to be sentenced for life and to rot away in Heaven’s jail. She is not to eat, drink or talk to anyone for 50 years. She will have no light and no communication with the outside. Lilith, you are a liar. You have manipulated my baby brother into committing the sins that he has now repented for. I will also allow Lucifer and his daughter, Charlie Morningstar, access to Heaven. They will be allowed to have a home here. The exterminations of the sinners in Hell will stop and the hotel that Charlie Morningstar is hosting will be used to redeem those who wish to be redeemed and they will be allowed into Heaven.” With that, Michael spread his six wings and flew through the skylight. Lucifer, Y/N, Charlie and Vaggie cheered. 

Y/N turned to Adam and beckoned him over. Adam reluctantly joined in the group hug and smiled when he saw Lucifer gazing at his family happily. 

“Well, you guys know I can just talk my way out of that cell.” Lilith’s voice cut through the happy atmosphere. The group stopped and turned towards the demon.

“You will be guarded by Lute. I’m afraid nothing can get past her,” Adam smirked. Lute stood up and glared down at the tall queen. She roughly grabbed Lilith by the arm and dragged her to the high security prison. 

Lucifer turned back towards his wife, grabbed her hand and flew towards the skylight. He wanted to be alone with her for just a few minutes. He watched as she fumbled to spread her wings and follow him towards the Garden. When they landed, Lucifer took her face in his hands and kissed her. She gasped a bit before letting out a sigh and leaning into the kiss. 

Lucifer pulled away and rested his head on her chest. He could hear her heart beating and her breathing was calming his muddled mind. 

“You’re home, Luci. You’re finally home.” He hugged her tighter. Her words dug deep into his mind and settled in his heart. He was home. He was finally in her arms. 

Well, I’m going home

Back to the place where I belong

And where your love has always been enough for me

I’m not running from

No, I think you got me all wrong

I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

I said these places and these faces are getting old

So I’m going home

I’m going home

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