devotee
words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, MURDER!, DARK!RAFE but also equally soft!rafe, rafe is clearly mentally fucked uppppp omds, lets just say reader is very forgiving, descriptions of blood and gore, vomiting, pregnancy, semi public sex
you pant heavily as you look around the room, knowing the sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. your clothes are splattered with blood, but not your own.
you should have known this would happen. you blame yourself as you stare at the growing pool of blood around your boyfriends body. there's no point trying to save him, he's long gone, his eyes open and eerily staring at the ceiling, but theres nothing behind them.
you feel sick, and you make no move towards the bathroom. there's no point when the room is already a mess as you lean forward and vomit all over the carpet.
“aww, baby.” rafe coos, dropping the knife to the ground as he gathers your hair into a ponytail, holding it away from your face as you empty your stomach.
“it's okay.” his words and the hand that is stroking up and down your back is soft, completely opposite of the heinous violent act he just committed.
you're unharmed, of course. rafe would never hurt you. his obsession runs far too deep.
“he's gone now.” rafe says as you stand up, looking at him with bloodshot eyes, snot dripping from your nose that you don't bother to wipe away.
“rafe-” you mutter. the only word that you can get out is his name.
“oh, baby.” he pulls you into his chest. you don't fight back, releasing a sob, part out of guilt for finding his hold comforting, but mostly for your boyfriend dead on the floor.
you should have known rafe would come after him. even though you broke up with rafe a month ago, he never processed that you actually weren't together anymore. it's like his brain couldn't accept it.
so when you moved on, found a new guy who you liked decent enough, it only took rafe a week before barging in and ending him, thinking he was saving you.
“i got you.” rafe says, feeling you shake against him.
you can't get yourself to pull away, even as the metallic coppery smell hits your nostrils.
“let's get you home and then ill clean you up, okay?” rafe says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “ive missed you so much baby. the house feels so empty without you.”
“rafe-” you whine out.
“shh, don't try to talk.” he lifts you up so effortlessly it takes you a moment to realize that you're now off your feet, cradled in his big strong arms. “just let me take care of you.”
you know you should run, should scream, should call 911 and tell them everything. you should feel sadder for your boyfriend. you liked him. not like you love rafe, though, so you keep your mouth shut as he carries you out of the house and into his car, gently setting you in the passenger seat. he reaches across and grabs the buckle, doing it up for you before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.
the ride home is silent, your hand held in rafes as he breaks the speed limit to get you back to tanneyhill.
“you're home now.” rafe says as he pulls into the driveway.
you wait for rafe to round the car and let you out, of course once again scooping you into his arms. you never have to open a door when around rafe, or even lift a finger if you don't want to.
he would be the perfect guy, sweet and utterly in love with you, if that love didn't distort reality.
“where was i?” you ask. “this last month?”
“you were having some time to yourself before that asshole tried to take you away from me.” rafes face turns sour at the mention of him. “but you're back now, so we don't need to worry about it.”
of course no mention of a breakup as rafe carries you right into the master bathroom. he sets you down on the counter before turning on the bath, adding a hefty amount of your favorite bath soak.
“what if the police come after you?” you question.
“they won't.” rafe says, walking over and cupping your cheek. “are you worried about me?”
you nod. you absolutely are. you don't know what you would do without rafe. even during your “break up”, he still paid for the rent of your apartment, sent you lunch and dinner every day, and texted you the sweetest things that always made your heartbeat a little faster.
“we’ll be fine baby, i promise.” rafes hands begin to work at taking your clothes off. you don't stop him, there's no point, he's seen it all before.
rafe undresses himself next before turning the water off once the tub is mostly filled, leaving enough space for both of you to soak together.
“ready?” he questions, thumb stroking against your cheek.
another nod and rafe is placing you in the bathtub before climbing in himself.
you dunk yourself under the warm water, needing to get every drop of blood off of you. when you come back up, the water is tinted slightly red that almost makes you throw up again.
“i have a vacation planned for us.” rafe says. “to the seychelles, but if you want to go somewhere else-”
“that sounds nice.” you interrupt him. it really does. you need to get away from the outer banks for a while, maybe longer.
“what if we moved?” you question. there's no point in pretending that you'll ever be without rafe. a breakup is clearly impossible, and with that month away, you realize that's not what you actually want.
“to where?” rafe asks, quirking his head to the side curiously. he's always wanting to know more about how your thoughts work, needing to learn everything he can about you.
“anywhere but here. maybe europe. london. madrid.” you shrug. “i just want a change of… scenery.”
a different town, a different country, maybe a different rafe. one where you don't know anyone for him to get jealous of and “rescue” you from.
“we'll figure it out after our vacation.” rafe offers, and you nod, falling into silence as he moves closer, glad the big tub allows for it as you cuddle together, eyes peacefully closing as you rest your head against his chest.
--
the resort is full of couples, mostly newlyweds happy and smiling and kissing, so it was natural when you sat down on rafes thigh to kiss him.
you hadn't realized how much you missed his lips, his hold, his touch, his cock.
rafe clenches his thigh muscle, hands coming to your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, your bikini bottoms barely acting as a barrier as you let out a moan.
“rafe.” you moan out, keeping your voice quiet.
you're in a secluded cabana, but couples have occasionally walked past, able to see through the sheer white curtains surrounding the plush bedding.
“right here. right now.” rafe says.
he didn't fuck you that night you came back to him, knowing you needed the rest. he didn't last night either, your first night on the island. the flight was long and you were excited to be somewhere new, so by the time you got back to your room, your were exhausted.
“but the people-”
“if anyone looks at us, ill just kill them.” rafe says.
you know it should worry you, that your first thought is then you'll have to cut your vacation short, but as rafe bounces his thigh, all care goes out the window.
“everyone here is drunk anyways.” you still keep your voice low as rafe lays back, switching so you're underneath him. “they probably won't notice.”
“mhm.” rafe hums, pushing his hips between your legs, parting your thighs as his crotch aligns with yours, rubbing his already hard cock against your covered pussy.
“tell me.” rafe says, burying his head into your neck.
you instantly know what he means. “you're my first. you're my only.”
it's the truth. you could never imagine sleeping with another guy. rafe is all you know, and all you'll ever know.
rafe reaches down, pulling his cock out but leaving his swim shorts as best in place as he can before tugging your bikini bottoms to the side.
rafe pushes into you in one smooth motion, making you moan out as your head tips back.
rafe stills despite the urge to obliterate you, allowing you time to adjust to his cock back inside of you.
“missed this.” you whine. “i-i love you so much rafe.”
“i love you so much more baby. id do anything for you.” including kill. the words go unsaid. they don't need to be spoken aloud.
rafe begins to swing his hips, pushing into you in slow and relaxed strokes, allowing you to build up slowly.
“fuck.” you whine out. “you feel so good.”
“me?” rafe chuckles dryly. “your pussy is so warm and wet baby, it's perfect. i would stay inside you forever if i could.”
you smile up at rafe, allowing yourself to forget the past and enjoy the way he's slowly moving faster, thrusting deeper and harder into you.
rafe cups his hand over your chest, squeezing your breast before moving the bikini top to the side to set your nipple free.
he's quick to arch his back and lock his mouth around your nipple until it hardens, his tongue flicking over the bud without a care for the path just outside your cabana.
“perfect body, baby. so perfect.” rafe switches sides, moaning around your chest. “everything about you is perfect.”
“i love you.” you want to say it over and over again. you pull rafes face to meet yours, kissing him deeply. “i love you.” you repeat.
“i love you.” rafe grunts out, keeping his hips thrusting forward. “ill never leave you. you're mine. im yours.”
--
you breath in the madrid air, letting the sun warm your face as you wait for rafe to return home to your new apartment.
when you casually mentioned wanting coffee, he was out the door as quickly as he could.
“baby!” rafe calls, heading through the rooms until he reaches the balcony. the smile on his face is infectious as he hands you a cup, of course the largest size, and if you wanted more, he'd be out the door again.
“don't think i can drink all this.” you giggle as you take the cup from him.
“ill just dump the rest.” rafe shrugs. he's so much calmer now that he's out of the outer banks. you've put everything behind you, deciding to start a new the moment your plane landed.
“it's not recommended.” you say. rafes eyebrows scrunch together, trying to understand what you mean.
“im only supposed to have a cup a day, but i still need to find a good doctor in madrid. one that specializes in what im going through.”
“what…” rafe mumbles, mind working overtime. you set your cup down as he thinks, already expecting his reaction when he works it out.
“you're pregnant!” rafe pulls you into his arms, the brightest smile you've ever seen on his face as he hugs and kisses you.
“you're going to be a dad.” you whisper into his ear, feeling tears hit your shoulder.
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Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri, roommates!au
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Summary: You, Lando, and Oscar are roommates. The three of you promise to take care of each other. It takes you all far too long to admit just how much you mean it. featuring dj!Lando for cece :) based on a blurb I wrote for my 1k celebration so if the first bit feels familiar that’s why! 7.4k words
Warnings: alcohol, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), illness, a breakup, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)
Lando’s not expecting the phone call he gets from you. It’s late, too late, really, for him to even be awake, let alone for you to be calling. Oscar’s sitting on the couch next to him, gaming controller in hand, and when Lando swipes to answer the call, he mouths the words who is it? Lando mouths your name in reply, and Oscar’s half asleep flat expression turns into a look of concern. The three of you are roommates, but you’re gone for the night. Lando didn’t ask where you were going when you left.
“Hello?” He asks, waiting for your response.
There’s a sniffle, then a hiccupy gasp for air that has Lando sitting up straight in his seat. “Lan. Could you- fuck, m’sorry, just- d’you think you could pick me up?”
Lando stares widely at Oscar for a moment, heart clenching in his chest. You sound upset- more than upset, really. He stands up, already searching frantically for his keys.
“Yeah, love, of course,” he says as Oscar follows suit and stands up. “Should I bring Oscar?”
You sniffle again. “Yeah, please, just…”
“It’s okay. Send me your location, yeah? Take a deep breath, we’ll be there soon.”
You mumble something, and then you hang up on him. Lando shoves his phone in his pocket and looks up at Oscar, who’s holding the keys to his car. That works. Oscar heads for the door, while Lando makes a pit stop in the kitchen. When he meets his friend in the entryway, Oscar’s staring at him with confusion.
“She’s crying,” Lando says in explanation, holding a paper bag close to his chest.
They make it across town in record time. Oscar groans when they pull into the apartment complex you’d sent the location of.
“Isn’t this her boyfriend’s place?” He asks, brows furrowed.
Lando doesn’t get a chance to answer, because you step out of the front door, and they’re both distracted. Oscar swears under his breath, and Lando follows suit at the sight of you- you’re in a t-shirt and shorts. There’s snow on the ground. Oscar pulls his hoodie over his head just before you make it to the car door.
You climb into the backseat and collapse in on yourself. Both Lando and Oscar are turned towards you, and Lando’s sure their facial expressions are matching looks of concern. They both hand over their items without a word- Oscar’s hoodie, and Lando’s carton of ice cream and a spoon. You pull the hoodie over your head and open the ice cream.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Oscar says, voice low.
Lando nods. “Yeah. We can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.”
You nod and chew on your lower lip, and the light from the street lamp outside catches on the tear tracks on your cheeks. “He dumped me. Can we just go home?”
Lando reaches his hand back to squeeze yours. Your fingers are ice cold. “Of course,” he says softly.
As Oscar pulls away, he and Lando exchange a look of worry and anger. They’ve never liked your boyfriend, but they hate to see you hurting, too.
“Thanks,” you add, voice small in the backseat. You hold onto Lando’s hand tightly. “I knew I could count on you guys.”
Lando squeezes your hand again. You’re quiet most of the way back, and he lets it go. Oscar’s right to not push you to talk about it. That’ll come in its own time.
Oscar drives back to your shared apartment, pulling into a parking space in the garage. He gets out before Lando and slips around to the backseat, opening the door for you. The Aussie wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.
When you all get upstairs, you collapse onto the couch. Lando follows suit, not wanting to leave your side. Oscar isn’t far behind. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, something quiet that Lando doesn’t pay attention to. He just watches you for signs of distress. You stare at the tv blankly and chip away at the ice cream with your spoon, leaning on Oscar as Lando leans on you. Slowly, the three of you melt into the couch, none of you wanting to break the silence and suggest going to bed.
…..
Oscar wakes up on the couch at 3 in the morning, and when he looks around, this awful feeling hits him. It’s like someone’s reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. You’re laying there, your head on his stomach, one of your arms over his thigh. Lando’s laying nearly on top of you- together, the three of you are like a stack of toppled dominoes. There are blankets strewn over all of you. Oscar can vaguely remember Lando’s attempt to cover all three of you up as you all began to drift off.
You’re fast asleep, and when Oscar peers down at you he can still see the tear tracks on your cheeks. He’s never liked your boyfriend- ex boyfriend, now, thank god- but breakups are awful no matter what. He’s got half a mind to go over and confront the guy, because who leaves their girlfriend- ex girlfriend- to walk out of their apartment in the dead of winter in a t-shirt and shorts? Even if you had broken up, he seemingly hadn’t given you the chance to put on sweatpants and a hoodie. Or maybe you hadn’t wanted to stay long enough.
Lando shifts in his sleep, pressing closer to you. It’s only now that Oscar notices Lando’s hand linked with yours, fingers knitted together on your stomach. A pang of something flares up in him at the sight, at how right it feels to have you both right here like this. He does his best to tamp it down. He brushes his fingers against your cheek tentatively, relaxing just a bit at the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips.
You nudge into the touch, eyelids just barely fluttering. Oscar wonders to himself how anyone could ever let you go. The sight of you in the backseat, teary eyed in his hoodie, is burned into the back of his brain. He’d do anything to keep you from ever crying again.
When he wakes up again, it’s much later in the morning. You and Lando are both gone, and something about that makes his heart clench. But he hears noise in the kitchen- Lando, talking to someone, the sound of food sizzling on the stove. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes before trudging his way over there.
Lando’s at the stove, cooking something that smells awfully delicious and makes Oscar’s stomach growl. You’re sitting on the counter nearby the way you always do, still in Oscar’s hoodie, hands folded in your lap. You’re the first one to spot him- you smile, but it’s subdued. There’s a tinge of sadness to it. Something aching behind your eyes.
“Morning,” he finally says.
Lando turns over his shoulder with a smile. “I was just about to send her to wake you,” he says. “I made breakfast.”
Oscar nods. “Thanks. Smells really good.”
He takes his normal spot on a stool at the kitchen island. He passes by both of you on the way there, and you reach out to squeeze his upper arm. He brushes a hand over your knee and smiles at you.
You’re quiet. Usually, you’d be chatting their ears off. But Lando plates up the food and distributes it without a word from you, and it has Oscar feeling sick to his stomach. You stay sitting on the counter, and you push the food around on your plate with one hand. Lando sits next to Oscar and exchanges a look with him.
Both boys clear their plates without a word from you. You’ve only taken a few bites. Oscar clears his throat as he clears his and Lando’s plates. Your eyes flicker up to meet his.
“I stand by what I said last night. We don’t have to talk,” he says. “But if you want to talk, we’re here.”
You shift and smile just a little. “Not much to talk about, really. The breakup has been coming for a long time, I think. So. It’s fine, really. Just weird, you know? We’d been dating for a year- that’s a year of my life… not wasted, but. Weird to lose someone like that so quickly.”
Both Oscar and Lando nod in understanding. You nod back. That’s that. If you don’t want to talk about it more, they won’t force you. It’s enough to know you’re safe at home, really.
…..
When Lando has his first DJ set after your break up, he begs you to come and watch. Much to his and Oscar’s surprise, you agree eagerly. They’d both thought it would be a harder fight. Lando’s been getting bigger and bigger DJ gigs- not enough to quit his day job yet, but enough to get excited about. You haven’t been to them recently, which had been a bit of a sore spot for Lando, though he’d tried not to let it on to you. So. If you want to go, he’s not going to question you on it.
On the way there, you size him up in the back of the Uber. You tug at the collar of his shirt.
“You’re too buttoned up,” you say, nose wrinkled.
Oscar laughs and nods. “Yeah, lose a button,” he adds.
He reaches over and undoes the top button of Lando’s shirt with nimble fingers, and great, now Lando’s sweating.
“Or two,” you chime in.
When you reach up and undo another button, Lando thinks the blush must be obvious on his cheeks now. It’s probably running down his neck, washing over his chest, just like the soft touch of your fingers against his skin.
“Why not three?” Oscar says, smirking.
Before he can undo the third one, Lando bats Oscar’s hand away and glares at him. Oscar’s had a shot before they left the apartment, pregaming because he hates crowds and loud places and social environments. He’s definitely a little tipsy, and because of that, he’s a bit more daring. It’s going to be the death of Lando.
By the time he’s halfway through the set, Lando’s gone and lost both of you in the crowd. He won’t lie, it makes him a bit nervous. He knows you were there one second, and then the next time he looked, you were both gone. He knows in his head Oscar won’t have let you out of his sight, but it doesn’t stop his heart from clenching. He thinks of his phone, down under the stage, itches to have it in his hand so he can text or call or find you, somehow.
When he finally climbs down and grabs his phone, it’s lit up with a bunch of notifications. He swipes past the ones from Max asking how late his set goes, past the ones from friends who stopped by, telling him how good he did. In the middle, there’s a text from Oscar.
Call when you’re done.
He calls. When Oscar answers, he gives him directions to meet the two of you in a bathroom and then promptly hangs up. Lando would be more concerned with the two of you apparently hiding out together in a bathroom if Oscar hadn’t told him about it. He doesn’t have the energy to let himself get jealous. He just heads towards the two of you. He knocks on the single bathroom door, calls out to Oscar, and it swings open.
“She had a little too much,” Oscar says.
Behind him, you’re kneeling next to the toilet, Oscar’s jacket underneath your knees. It’s such a sweet touch that it makes Lando’s heart ache- there’s just something about seeing Oscar taking care of you. But he does his best to focus and steps into the bathroom. Your hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Your skin is pale, and when you turn to look at Lando, your eyes are bloodshot. He hisses and turns to Oscar.
“I know, I know, I said I’d watch her-“ Oscar says, raising his hands defensively. “She’s good at pretending to be sober. Until she’s way too far gone, and then…”
“Lan!” you call out, high pitched and wobbly. “I love you.”
Lando widens his eyes at Oscar, who nods.
“There’s been a lot of that. About both of us. She was not happy when I pulled her out of sight of you.” Oscar sighs. “I can’t figure out if it’s just- you know, she loves her friends, or-“
Oscar trails off. Lando furrows his brows.
“Lan,” you repeat again, and he turns over his shoulder to look at you, then tries not to visibly wince. “Can we go home now?”
“Yeah, love,” he says, softly. “You done throwing up, you okay to move?”
You shrug, then nod. Great. Not super convincing. When he turns to Oscar, he winces. Lando drags a hand down his own face. Interrogating Oscar will have to wait- the first priority is to get the three of you out of there, hopefully without you throwing up on them. He sighs heavily and makes a plan in his head.
Lando’s not sure what god he pleased, what good karma he’s earned, but the three of you make it outside without you throwing up again. He breathes a sigh of relief. Then he and Oscar spend 5 minutes debating on whether walking or getting a ride would be better- you’re drunk and wobbly, but at least if you threw up, it’d be on the sidewalk. Oscar hates that idea, is worried about you tripping and falling on the way, about how they’ll manage to get you all the way back. You stand there and watch them argue, Oscar’s hand on your shoulder to keep you from falling over.
“Boys, stop fighting,” you say hazily. “You’re both so pretty.”
Lando’s eyes go wide at that. He stares at Oscar, who seems to make a face that says I know. Lando turns to you. You’re smiling widely up at him, blinking glassy eyes and tilting your head. You reach out and tap your fingertip against his nose, then laugh. Lando swallows tightly.
Oscar uses his distraction to flag down a cab. Lando can’t find the energy to argue anymore. They’d normally put you in the middle, but this time they sit you next to the door, just in case you do need to throw up. You spend the entire ride with your head on Lando’s shoulder, and he can tell you’re starting to get drowsy just from the way you sag against him. When they climb out of the car, Oscar puts one of your arms over his shoulder, and Lando does the same on the other side.
By the time they get you up to the apartment and into the bathroom, you’re half asleep, leaning heavily on both of them. When your hand slips against the bare skin of his chest, he swallows tightly. Oscar puts toothpaste on the toothbrush for you, and Lando helps you brush your teeth, his hand wrapped around yours gently.
Then they head for your bedroom. Lando grabs you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from your dresser. He sets them on the bed and gets ready to leave the room so you can change, and then slaps his hand over his eyes when you start to take off your dress before he even gets the chance. He hears Oscar’s hand hit his own face, too.
“We live together,” you say, and Lando can practically hear your eye roll. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Lando sighs. “It is, and you’re drunk, so.”
You laugh. “I guess. I’m dressed now.”
Lando groans when he uncovers his eyes and spots the pair of shorts still on the bed. He puts one hand over Oscar’s eyes, one back over his own, and says, “Shorts. Now.”
You grumble something about taking them off later anyways, which has Lando melting into a puddle over the thought. He hears you shuffling around, and then you grab both of his wrists and tug them away from his and Oscar’s faces. You’re fully dressed this time, and you collapse backwards onto the bed.
“Will you guys stay till I fall asleep?” you ask, softly.
Both of them nod and sit down on the edge of the bed. You curl up in the middle, each of them on either side. Oscar lays a tentative hand on your shoulder, while Lando brushes hair from your face. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, melting into the bed.
When you do, Lando nods silently towards the door. Oscar nods in agreement, and they both slip out of the bedroom. Lando looks back to check on you as he shuts the door. You look peaceful, finally.
Oscar heads for the kitchen, and Lando follows. He reaches into the fridge and comes back with two cans of sparkling water, which Lando accepts eagerly. He’d been unaware of just how thirsty he was until that moment. He drinks half the can in one go and then looks at Oscar expectantly.
“I don’t know,” Oscar prefaces. “I’m not sure about anything. But. She couldn’t stop staring at you up on the stage, and she told me about ten times how pretty you were. And then she said it about me, too. To my face. And like, right after that she threw up, but.”
“But,” Lando repeats. “You saw something. Different than her just being a drunk mess.”
“It felt different,” Oscar says, softly. “Just. I can’t explain it.”
Lando nods. He presses his lips into a thin line. Oscar follows suit, rubbing his hand against the smooth surface of the countertop.
“What do we do?” Lando asks quietly. He feels wildly out of his depth here. “I mean. D’you think she has feelings for…”
Me? You? Lando’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure what he wants the answer to be either. Suddenly, he feels sick to his stomach. In an ideal world, he knows what he’d like to happen here, but that’s a pipe dream. Unrealistic.
“She’s really vulnerable,” he says, before Oscar can even answer. “And like. That would really make a good roommate situation weird, right?”
Oscar laughs, but it sounds forced. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” Lando says. “Okay. So. We just let it go.”
Oscar nods. There’s something in the look on his face that makes Lando think maybe there’s more to this. That they shouldn’t brush it off so easily. But it’s late, and he’s exhausted, and this topic feels so, so difficult to broach right now. So he claps Oscar on the shoulder with an open palm, and then disappears into his bedroom.
Lando’s avoidance of the subject doesn’t last long, because the next morning, before you wake up, Oscar corners him in the kitchen.
“We need to talk,” Oscar says, which is never a good sentence to hear at any hour, let alone before the sun has even risen.
Realistically, he should’ve known this was coming, because Oscar never willingly wakes up this early on a weekend. It’s still dark outside. Lando can barely make out Oscar’s facial expressions in the dim light. He flicks a light switch and watches the other man wince.
“Rude,” Oscar grumbles.
“Yeah, that’s what you get for starting off my morning with that sentence,” Lando defends. When Oscar frowns, he softens. “What’s up?”
As if he hadn’t expected to actually get to this point, Oscar shrinks in on himself. Lando leans against the counter and tilts his head. Oscar’s younger, but he’s usually the more mature one. It’s odd to see him so lost for what to say.
“Last night,” Oscar starts, chewing on his lip when he pauses. “She- I- I can’t stop thinking about…”
Lando’s gut wobbles. “About her. You like her. And you think she feels the same.”
There’s this weird jealousy in his chest. He’s jealous of both of you, he realizes, and he grips the counter behind him with his hand. He wants to be the one you like, and he wants to be the one Oscar’s into, too. He’s known it for a while, really, but this is the first time he’s had to confront it head on. And it’s - it’s a problem, probably. His best friends and his roommates. He can’t have both. Can’t have it all.
Oscar frowns and shakes his head. “No. Well. Yeah, but- it’s more than that. It’s.”
Lando tamps down the ache in his chest, plasters on a smile. “Oscar. It’s okay.”
“No,” Oscar says, dragging out the sound. “You don’t- you don’t get it.”
“You guys would make a cute couple,” Lando says quietly. “Like. Really, Osc, you’d be good together-“
“I don’t just want her,” Oscar interrupts, and Lando's heart skips a beat. “I don’t- fuck, it sounds crazy, but. I woke up that morning, after we picked her up, and you were both on the couch with me, and I just thought, yeah, this is how I want to wake up every day. And if that’s crazy then- forget I said anything, but-“
Lando clears his throat. “It’s not crazy.”
Oscar freezes, one hand halfway through his hair. “It’s not?”
Lando shakes his head and bites his lip. “No. I think I’ve been feeling the same. Just… I felt crazy, you know?”
Oscar nods. Lando can’t stop staring at him, at the red flush on his cheeks, the wide eyes. He reaches his foot out and nudges it against Oscar’s shin.
“I meant what I said last night, about her being vulnerable,” he says, and Oscar sighs heavily. “She needs friends right now. And she doesn’t need friends who are caught up in figuring out their feelings for each other and maybe her, too.”
Oscar huffs. “So we just…”
“Wait and see?” Lando asks sheepishly. “Feels shitty, I know, but our first priority is making sure she’s okay.”
Oscar nods. Lando nods back. And that’s that, for a while. And maybe for a while, it’s enough to know that Oscar feels it, too. To know he’s not alone.
…..
You know Lando well enough to know he’s not one to admit when he’s sick. You’d think he’d be the exact opposite, but he tends to try and tough it out until the very last minute. He hides it well, except when it comes to you and Oscar.
He’s getting ready for a DJ set nearly a month after the one where you’d gotten far too drunk. There’s loud music playing through the apartment as he eats dinner, dancing along to the beat. You sit on the kitchen counter in your usual spot, and Oscar stands next to you. You’re both watching Lando bounce around the room. He’s trying to convince you he’s fine without actually saying it. It’s not working.
He leaves the room for a moment, looking for his phone. Oscar looks up at you.
“He’s sick, isn’t he?” He asks.
You nod and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “Definitely.”
But Lando says nothing about not feeling well, so you do your hair and makeup and get into an Uber with him and Oscar to head for a club. You and Oscar exchange a glance when Lando presses his forehead to the window of the car. He’s mumbling along to the song that’s playing over the speakers. There’s sweat on his temple. You’re starting to worry.
He tumbles out of the car and into the club with you and Oscar in tow. Once the bright lights and loud music hit him, he perks up a bit. If you know him, you know it won’t last. He’s going to wear himself out during his set and then fall apart right after. He sends the two of you to the bar, tells you to put it on his tab. Oscar loops his hand in your arm to keep you close- you’re not complaining. Without saying anything to each other, you each order plain Cokes. Lando won’t question if there’s alcohol in it. You order him his go to drink- a gin & tonic, but ask the bartender to go light on the gin. You hand it off to him before he heads up for his set, and when he hesitates to kiss your cheek like he normally would, you eye him carefully.
“I’m fine,” he says, which tells you more than anything that he’s definitely not fine.
Next to you, Oscar scoffs. You press the back of your hand to Lando’s forehead and sigh. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. He’s burning up.
“It’s a short set,” he says, slurred but loud enough to be heard over the thud of the bass. “I’ll be fine.”
You watch as he walks away. Oscar takes your arm in his hand again, pulls you away to a nearby booth. Normally, you love watching Lando’s sets, love listening to the music he’s chosen, and watching his face light up at the crowd’s reaction. But now, as he takes his place, you just feel worried. You can tell Oscar’s worried too, just from the way he drums his fingers against the table in an unsteady pattern. Normally the two of you would find yourselves out on the dance floor, especially when Lando plays the songs he knows you both love, but you can’t find it in you tonight.
When he stumbles off stage from his set, he’s grinning ear to ear, but his eyes are half closed and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his skin that you know isn’t from the dj-ing. You and Oscar stand to meet him, and you brush damp curls from his forehead to check his temperature again. He feels even worse. Oscar winces as Lando sways in front of the two of you.
“Let's get you home,” you suggest, and he just nods.
When you get back to the apartment, you deposit Lando on the couch. Oscar stays with him, pulling a blanket over Lando and propping him up with pillows. You head for the bathroom first and open the medicine cabinet.
“Lan, what’s wrong?” You call out.
You hear his disoriented grumbling. Oscar translates. “He says he’s fine.”
You lean out into the living room and fix Lando with a glare. “Shut up. You need medicine. What’s wrong?”
He sighs and sinks into the couch. “Sore throat. Headache. Little bit of a cough.”
You nod and return to the surprisingly well stocked medicine cabinet. You grab the cold medicine that describes his symptoms the best and head back to the living room. Lando has the blanket wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon, and he has his head resting on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s running his hand up and down Lando’s upper arm, a look of concern on his face.
You hand Oscar the medicine. “Here. Give him a dose, will you? I’m gonna heat up some soup or something.”
“M’not a baby,” Lando mutters.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Oscar teases gently.
Though the medicine cabinet was well stocked, the kitchen is less so. None of you like grocery shopping. You manage to find a can of chicken soup in the back of a cupboard, and it’s not expired, so you heat it up quickly. You return to the living room with the soup and a large glass of water.
Lando is fully tucked into Oscar’s side now, draped messily across the other boy. You sigh at the sight, at the way Oscar runs his hand through Lando’s hair, at the content little smile on Lando’s lips. Even when he’s sick, this is enough to bring him comfort. You wonder, then, if you could be enough, too. The memories pass through your brain- the way they’ve both taken care of you after your break up. Now it’s your chance to return the favor.
You sit down on the couch on Lando’s other side. Oscar takes the bowl of soup from you carefully, and then you hold the glass of water up to Lando’s lips. He sips carefully, then pulls away with a soft sigh. His cheeks are rosy red, and he shivers. You and Oscar both wince in sympathy.
“You should’ve told us,” Oscar says, quietly. “Should’ve canceled the set.”
Lando shrugs and elbows him lightly. “Got through it, didn’t I? Can’t go around canceling sets if I’m gonna make it big, can I?”
You roll your eyes and nudge the Brit slightly. “Your health is more important than you making it big,” you chide.
He turns to look at you, gaze hazy but still amused. “Mm. You won’t be saying that when I’ve got enough money to take care of the two of you for the rest of your lives.”
“Is that your plan?” Oscar asks, a teasing tone in his voice.
Lando closes his eyes and nods. “You two can be my sugar babies,” he asserts. “Never work another day in your life.”
“Okay, Norris,” you say, biting back a laugh. “Eat your soup.”
He does as he’s told, melting back into the couch as he holds the bowl and spoon in shaky hands. Oscar keeps his hands on the bowl, too, just to be safe. To show your support, you lean against Lando’s shoulder to help prop him up. As much as you hate to see him not feeling well, you think that maybe you could get used to this.
You tuck him into his bed later that night. Oscar’s next to you, having carried him into the bedroom from the living room. Lando was pretty much dead weight, high on cold medicine and his fever and so, so out of it. You pull the covers up to his chin and smooth sweaty hair from his forehead. You cringe at the clammy feeling, and Oscar laughs.
Lando blinks up at both of you with heavy eyes. “Meant it, you know.”
“Meant what?” You ask.
He lets his eyelids fall closed. “Gonna take care of you two. The same way you take care of me. I think abou’ it all the time.”
He yawns, turns his head, and falls asleep nearly immediately after that, lips barely parted, chest rising and falling smoothly. You feel frozen for a moment. He looks so peaceful. He wants to take care of you. Your heart is pounding.
Oscar wraps his hand around your elbow and squeezes softly. “He’ll be okay.”
He thinks you’re worried. You don’t know how to tell him that Lando being sick isn’t the problem. The what’s got you all mixed up inside is the way Lando says it so easily. Never work another day in your life. I think about it all the time.
You swallow and back away from the bed, because you have the strongest urge to crawl right in next to him and drag Oscar right with you, until you’re all curled up in a pile together. You can’t do that. Oscar leads you out to the living room. You think he knows something’s up, because he doesn’t let go of you the whole time, but he doesn’t say anything either. You need to shake this feeling. You can’t think about them like this. It won’t end well.
“I’ll make us some popcorn, yeah?” Oscar suggests. “We can watch Bake Off.”
You nod as you make your way over to the couch. You try to tell yourself you should keep your distance, should sit far away from him. But when he sits down and pulls you into his chest, you can’t help but sigh happily.
“When we inevitably catch whatever he has,” you say, “we’re gonna need more chicken noodle soup.”
…..
Oscar comes home from work one day a few weeks later, and finds the two of you in the living room- a pretty normal occurrence lately. You’re laid out on the couch, your ankles in Lando’s lap. You smile up at him happily, and he laughs. He’s glad to see you, honestly, both of you. He’s had a rough day. This is exactly what he needed to come home to.
“Comfy?” He asks.
You nod eagerly. “We saved some pizza for you. It’s in the kitchen.”
He snorts. “Gee. Thanks. Couldn’t wait till I got home?”
You pout up at him. “I was hungry.”
Lando nods in agreement. “She was being whiny, Osc, had to feed her.”
“I’m gonna shower,” he says, leaning over to ruffle your hair. You press into the touch, like a cat. “And then I’ll have dinner.”
“Ooh, take a shower beer,” you suggest.
Lando laughs. “I was gonna say the exact same thing.”
Without even thinking, Oscar leans over the couch and kisses both of your foreheads. “Geniuses, the both of you.”
Neither you or Lando seem to question it, or the blush on his cheeks, so he doesn’t even try to explain.
By the time he finishes showering, and finishes his shower beer, a bit of the stress has melted away. He sighs heavily when he steps out, towel dries his hair, and pulls on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. He eats a slice of pizza, cold, in the kitchen.
When he makes it back to the living room, you’re curled up in Lando’s arms, halfway in his lap. He grumbles, not even realizing he’s making the noise until you look up at him. You throw one arm out wide, beckoning him close. Lando looks up with a happy, soft smile and pats the open space on his chest. And really, Oscar’s had a shit day, and the spot between Lando’s jaw and chest looks quite cozy, and if he’s being invited, then-
He collapses into the two of you, slips his arm around you and presses the side of his face to Lando’s chest. Oscar takes a deep breath, smells Lando’s cologne and your perfume, the intoxicating mix of both of you, and closes his eyes. He feels someone’s finger drag down the slope of his nose, and another hand brushes his hair from his forehead.
“Bad day?” You ask.
He’s exhausted, and everything is a bit hazy feeling. Syrupy and slow. He could fall asleep like this, probably. You sound a million miles away, and also like you’re tucked away in his chest, like he’d like for you to always be. Close and protected.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Really bad day.”
A thumb brushes over his cheek. There’s a hand in his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He lets out a fluttering sigh.
“Poor baby,” you say. He thinks the hand on his face is yours, the hand in his hair, Lando’s. “We just gotta wait for Lan to make it big, yeah? ‘nd then me and you can be his sugar babies, let him pay for everything. Just like he promised.”
Oscar laughs and rubs his cheek against Lando’s chest in some sort of nod. He can feel Lando laughing, too, high pitched and breathless. His hand squeezes at your hip, where it landed when he sat down.
“I’d take such good care of the two of you,” Lando says, quietly.
Oscar knows how much truth the words hold, and suddenly his stomach aches with want. Because Lando already takes care of both of you and him any way he can, and Oscar does it for you and Lando, too, and they both wish they could do it even more so. Could kiss away your tears, could hold your hand when you cross the street. He wants it. So does Lando.
“You already do,” you say, even quieter.
Oscar feels Lando’s breath hitch in his chest. He opens one eye and finds your eyes closed, your hand pressed to his cheek. Lando’s hand, banded around Oscar’s back, squeezes softly. Oscar holds his breath.
You shrug, like you know they’re watching without even opening your eyes.
“You both do,” you add. “Picked me up when I called, checked on me ever since…” you sigh and bury your face deeper into Lando’s chest. Oscar reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand tentatively. “Couldn’t ask for more.”
Even on the worst of days, Oscar thinks that maybe you’re right. He couldn’t ask for more. He’s got everything right here.
…..
A few nights later, Lando wakes up to the creak of the door, and his eyes fly open. He turns to look and finds you standing in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
“Love?” Lando asks, quietly. It’s the dead of night. “You alright?”
You shrug and sigh. “Can we cuddle?”
He blinks and nods, wonder fleetingly if he should go and get Oscar, because this feels unfair, but- then you step backwards, walking away. You must want to go to your bed, must feel more comfortable there. Lando slips out of his bed, takes his phone with him, and follows after you. His confusion grows when you don’t stop at the door to your bedroom. You walk right past and head for Oscar’s room. You open the door, and Lando looks past you to the warm glow of the lamp Oscar always forgets to turn off, to his sleeping form.
“You’re easier to wake up,” you say, softly.
Lando blinks wildly as you trudge your way over to the bed. “Love?”
“Want cuddles,” you state as you climb into the bed next to Oscar, who’s snoring softly. “From both of you. Come on.”
And, well. You should probably all talk about this, really. But you’re already tucking yourself under the blankets, and Oscar looks cute, and Lando’s so, so tired, and he wants cuddles, too, so. He sighs and makes his way over to the bed. You grin and roll towards Oscar, who finally shifts awake at the motion.
“Hi?” He says, confused, sleep coating his voice.
You don’t bother to explain, just slip an arm around him and curl close. Lando sits down on the edge of the bed and makes eye contact with Oscar, who seems frozen between confusion and happiness.
“She wanted cuddles,” Lando explains. “From both of us. I’m easier to wake up, apparently.”
Oscar shrugs and nods. He rolls towards you and throws his arm over your middle. His fingers motion towards Lando, who breathes a sigh of relief. Sure, they’ve talked, but there was always a chance Oscar changed his mind, or that this would be weird. But, if he’s offering…
Lando crawls into bed next to you. You let out a soft sigh when he lays down next to you, and he can’t fight the smile that crosses his lips. He slips his arm around you, his skin brushing against Oscar’s, too. Oscar presses a kiss to your forehead. Lando bites back a flare of jealousy, and he’s not even sure which one of you he’s jealous of. Then Oscar brushes his fingertips against his bicep, a soft, gentle touch that reminds him he’s part of this, too. Lando kisses the back of your neck and closes his eyes, already sleepy again.
…..
When Oscar wakes up the next morning, you and Lando are still in his bed. He breathes a sigh of relief at that, having been worried one of you would wake up and panic and leave. He watches the two of you for a few moments before he lets his eyes slip closed again. The weight of your head on his chest is comforting, and the soft rise and fall of Lando’s ribs under his hand is even more so. It’s rare that he’s awake before either of you unless he has to be up early.
He opens one eye again, just to look, just to take it in. Lando’s head is pressed against your shoulder, the top of his forehead and his mass of curly hair just visible to Oscar. He could get used to this. He’d like to wake up like this all the time, the three of you all wrapped up together. And maybe that’s wishful thinking, but for at least one morning, he gets to have it.
If he wasn’t so worried he’d wake you up and spoil the moment, he’d trace the lines of your face with his fingertips and draw patterns on your shoulders. He’d do it to Lando, too- shove his tank top up until he could touch the bare skin of his ribs, run his fingers over the bumps. But he wants this to last as long as possible, so he just lays there and stares.
Eventually, you start to stir, and with you, so does Lando. It’s strange, the way it makes Oscar’s heart clench in his chest. He wants so badly for both of you to just stay right here, with him. If he could hold you both in his arms like this forever he would.
When you open your eyes, you smile softly at him. Lando shifts behind you and opens one eye, and the same soft smile slips across his lips. You press yourself farther into Oscar, and reach a hand behind you to pull Lando close.
“My boys,” you say, quietly. “My favorite boys.”
And. That’s when it hits Oscar, like a punch to the chest. There’s something in the way you say it, something about the look on your face. He just knows. He knows because he sees it in himself, in Lando. He doesn’t need to talk about it right this second, doesn’t need to ask. He just knows you feel it too. So he leans up and over, hears the way Lando’s holding his breath. He moves his hand and presses his lips to your cheek, to your warm, soft skin. Then he does the same to Lando. You smile even wider. Lando, not one to be left out, does the same to you, then Oscar, leaving his skin burning. You follow suit, and your lips are warm against Oscar’s jaw. He thinks maybe he’s in heaven.
The three of you fall back asleep in a tighter pile, wrapped up in each other’s limbs. There’ll be time to talk later. For now, it’s enough to just know.
…..
A month later, you’re in the front of the crowd at Lando’s DJ set, watching with wide, bright eyes. He has three buttons undone, the work of you and Oscar during the car ride over to the club. He’s grinning down at you as someone hands him a shot, and then he tosses it back with a grimace. You wonder if he sees the stars in your eyes as you look up at him.
Oscar’s behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist. He has a drink in his other hand- your drink, taken from your own grip when you started moving your hands to the music. His nose is pressed behind your ear, and when he speaks, his breath tickles against your skin and makes you shiver.
“Y’know, he said he’d take care of us,” Oscar says, loud enough to be heard over the music, but just barely. “But all I can think of right now are all the ways I wanna take care of him.”
You laugh, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “It’s the unbuttoned shirt,” you tell him, gesturing at your other boyfriend. “S’like kryptonite.”
Never mind the fact that the shirt’s only unbuttoned because of the two of you. Oscar laughs and squeezes his arm around your middle. Lando tilts his head at the two of you, like he knows exactly what you’re up to.
“Yeah,” Oscar agrees. “But that’s less buttons for us to deal with later.”
You nod in agreement. “Good point.”
When Lando’s shirt is laying on the floor later, next to Oscar’s shirt and your dress, and you’re all slumped together on the bed in a pile, you remember what Oscar said earlier and laugh. Neither of them bother to ask what you’re laughing about. They just kiss your cheeks and join in with laughter of their own.
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pussy privileges
words: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, female receiving oral, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, partying, drinking, mentions of a drunk driving crash, rafe is kind of mean but in the grand scheme of rafe not really, established relationship
“i thought we were gonna go on a date.” you cross your arms as rafe finishes buttoning up his shirt.
“we are going out.” rafe tries to justify, but you shake your head. “you’re taking me to a house party, rafe. thats not a freaking date.”
“ill take you out tomorrow. dinner and a movie?” rafe offers to pacify the angry look on your face.
“fine.” you shrug, knowing there is no convincing rafe to not go the party if hes set his mind on it. you point at rafe, making sure he’s paying attention to you. “but im not happy about it.”
you don’t talk to rafe the entire ride there. you would have told him you were staying home, but you already got dressed up and don’t want to waste a full face of makeup and outfit.
“be right back, baby.” rafe says, making you throw your hands up as he walks away to talk to topper, having just entered the party a few minutes ago and your boyfriend is already abandoning you.
“god, rafe is being a dick today.” you groan, stomping up to your friend, who simply shakes her head and hands you a drink. you know that rafe isn’t really being a dick, not in comparison to how he treats other people, but you can’t resist the urge to complain.
“promising to take me out on a nice date night only to take me to a party and fuck off with topper.” you roll your eyes, downing your drink quickly before refilling the cup.
rafe finds you half an hour later, dancing with your friends. the music is so good you don’t stop him when his hands land on your hips, joining you in dancing.
you grind against him until your feet start to hurt, the song shifting to one you haven’t heard before. “rafey.” you whine, leaning back into him. “wanna go home.”
“come on, you can wait. keep dancing.” rafe pushes his hips into your bum, making you roll your eyes. “no! im tired.”
rafe taps your hips, trying to encourage you to move, but you keep yourself standing still, much to his displeasure. “baby.” rafe turns you around so you’re facing him. he cups your cheeks as he speaks, “a bit longer. i like you dancing up on me.”
“fine.” you sigh. “gotta get me another drink though.”
“thats my girl.” rafe smirks, grabbing a white claw off a nearby table before quickly coming back, pushing it into your hand before twisting your hips around, almost causing you to stumble as he presses his chest into your back, dancing into you again.
“rafey.” you whine when you realize he didn’t even open the can for you like he always does, but hes far too into dancing into you to hear your complaints over the loud music.
you manage to open the can without breaking a nail, grinding back slightly into rafe until you’ve finished the can, the alcohol moving through your system enough to ignore how much your heels are beginning to hurt, dancing back into rafe.
“god, you’re hot.” he groans into your ear, pressing a kiss under your ear before moving to your neck, burying his head in your soft skin, inhaling your scent.
“rafe!” you shout when his mouth presses against your skin and he sucks an incredibly visible hickey into your neck. you pull away quickly, but know it’s already going to bruise as you turn with a frown, your hands on your hips.
“sorry.” rafe says, but the smile on his face shows that he’s not actually sorry.
“whatever.” you sigh, rubbing at the spot. “just take me home.”
“fine.” rafe sighs, reaching for your hand, knowing it’s getting too late anyways. he tugs you through the crowd until you get outside.
“did you drink or take anything?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at rafe when he walks towards his truck. it’s only a short drive home, but you don’t want anything to happen.
“barely.” rafe says, unlocking his truck and opening the passenger side door for you.
“lets just walk home then.” you shake your head. “it’s so close.” rafe knows how much you hate drunk drivers ever since one hit your sisters car, thankfully she was fine besides a few bruises.
rafe sighs, head tilting back to look at the sky. “why didn’t i just lie?”
“ugh!” you stomp your foot. “rafe, that is so wrong!”
“baby, i really had just like two sips when we first-” rafe tries to explain, he’s truly not even buzzed, but you are already walking away, heading down the sidewalk towards tanneyhill. you don’t make it very far, rafe trailing behind you, until you have to kick off your heels.
rafe would usually pick you up, carry you home, but he knows your mad so decides to stay back, letting you walk barefoot home.
“baby-” rafe finally speaks when you get to the front door, but you just walk in, leaving it open for rafe to follow.
“y/n…” rafe tries again when you both get inside his room, but you ignore his call of your name and begin to take off your jewelry, before moving to your dress, quickly putting on pajamas once you’re naked.
rafe takes it as a sign, undressing himself for bed, relieved when you climb under the covers next to him.
“come here.” rafe holds his arms open. you hesitate for a second before moving in, allowing him to cuddle into you and press kisses all over your face.
“i’m so sorry, princess.” he says softly, connecting your lips in a kiss.
“you can make it up to me tomorrow on our very nice and well planned date.” you give a look to rafe, who quickly nods.
he leans in to kiss you again, and you accept it, allowing his hand to wrap around your waist and pull you in closer, bodies slotting together underneath the covers.
“i love you baby.” rafe says, his hand moving to underneath your flimsy pajama shirt.
“love you too.” you say, reaching to pull his hand back out, placing it on top of the fabric.
rafe frowns slightly before kissing you again, this time trying to move your leg so he can slot himself in between. you allow it, until he starts to grind into you. the second you feel him begin to swell in his pants, you pull away, pressing your thighs together.
“baby.” rafe whines. “i want you, come on.”
“and i want you to not be a dick.” you shake your head. you may have accepted rafes apology for his behavior, but aren’t willing to so quickly allow him to have sex with you.
“i said sorry!”
“you can fuck me after you make it up to me tomorrow on the date. and it better be good, or i’ll get myself off and leave you alone.” you threaten, smirking when rafes eyes widen.
“okay, okay.” he nods. “tomorrow.”
--
rafe does everything right. flowers, a dinner reservation to a fancy restaurant, a new dress and necklace, as well as doting on you throughout the entire date.
“did i make it up to you?” rafe asks.
“hmm…” you tap your finger against your chin, rafe barely able to wait as you stand before him, new dress wrapping around your body like a present just waiting to be pulled away by rafe to reveal what he really wants to see.
“i don’t know. maybe the date was a little too good.” you let out a fake yawn. “a bit tired. might just have to go right to sleep.”
“baby-” rafe whines. he hasn’t gone this long without having you since you first started dating.
“but i guess you could eat me out and we can see if you deserve to fuck me.”
rafe smiles, knowing as soon as he gets between your legs, that you’ll be begging for his cock in no time. he undresses you completely before he even begins to work on his buttons, giving you a show as you lay naked on the bed, head propped up against the pillows as he strips away the layers of clothing until he’s nude, cock already straining.
rafe crawls between your legs, sighing with relief when you spread them, letting him view your pussy as he immediately buries his face between your legs, eating out your pussy like you’ve intentionally starved him of it, not just denied him sex one night.
“god, i fucking love how you taste baby.” rafe mumbles, his words vibrating against your cunt. “‘m so sorry i was a dick. won’t happen again. love you too much.”
you can’t help but smile when you reach down to fist your hands into rafes hair. his tongue gets you to orgasm three times until you’re whining for his cock too much, tugging at his hair.
rafe gives your sensitive clit a final kiss before crawling up the bed, connecting your mouths in a kiss, knowing how much you love to taste yourself on his lips.
“fuck me, come on.” you tell rafe. “need it so bad.”
rafe pushes his cock against your entrance, making you moan as he slowly brings his hips forward, sinking inside of you with ease.
“god, that was as much of a punishment for me as it was for you.” you laugh slightly when rafe is fully inside of you, still for a moment for you to adjust.
“certainly taught me a lesson.” rafe admits. he didn’t realize how hard it would be to go without fucking you. just one night felt like a century, his dick literally hurting when he woke up in the morning with a hard on, one that you would usually crawl beneath the covers to take care of.
“no pussy privledges when you’re mean.” you nod, confirming the rule, even though you hopefully never have to enforce it again.
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could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!
I guess I gotta- 🥵
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention
He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it
Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time
He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him
He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves
After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak
Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???
Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention
"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."
He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them
"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"
Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye
"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"
The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs
"I guess he had other things to do~"
You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers
"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."
You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down
He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner
"Alastor, are you even listening?"
"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"
He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention
Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand
You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him
"Alastor, that was rude..."
He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic
"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"
It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious
It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch
"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"
He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again
"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"
He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips
"It will be if you keep injuring people~"
And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you
You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best
When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body
"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"
He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in
You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation
"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."
You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance
"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"
He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend
You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-
"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"
It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it
The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head
"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"
Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form
You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this
"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."
He's so cute when he's jealous
"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"
Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart
"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"
He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face
You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss
"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"
He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together
"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"
You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner
"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"
You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss
"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"
I might go back and change this one a bit ngl
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"Something is really wrong with Steve," Robin says.
The party look up, startled. They wait for her to continue, but she starts pacing nervously. It immediately sets the kids on edge, glancing at each other uneasy.
"What do you mean?" Dustin eventually speaks up. "Is he... ill?"
"No, no, it's... his parents came home, right?"
"Yeah, we know," Max snorts. "Dustins mom had to ban him from the house because he wouldn't leave."
"He can't avoid them forever," Dustin points out. "I get that it's hard to talk to them when you have to lie all the time but they're, like, paying for all his shit."
"No they aren't!" Robins voice cracks. "They cut him off years ago! Dude, he hates them and now he's writing up a resignation letter so he can go work for his dad."
"Why is that a bad thing?" El asks, eyes a little wide.
"He'd have to train for a few months in New York for one."
"New York?!" All of them burst out. They all try to speak at once, loud and panicked. They're so loud that Hopper bursts out, confused and tired and panicked.
"What the hell is going on?" He snaps.
The kids all look a little guilty. El stands up so he looks at her. "We are worried about Steve."
"What? Jeez, that's what you're yelling about?"
"He's moving away!" Mike snaps. "To New York! For months!"
Hopper frowns at him like he's not making sense. "New York?"
"To work with his dad," Robin adds. "I didn't know if I should talk him out-"
"They're back?" Hopper asks. He's gone still, voice devoid of emotion and dangerously calm. "How long?"
"A month? Maybe more, it-"
"And they're home now? Do you know if Steve is there with them? It's not one of his shifts, is it? That'd make it easier."
"What? No, he's home. Make what easier?"
Hopper ignores the question, grabbing his coat and shoes. "Stay here, I won't be long."
He ignores the questions that grow frantic and panicked when he picks up his gun, stomping out the door at a fast pace. Robin is yelling from the door as he climbs into his car. She's too taken aback to even begin to think of how to answer to avalanche of questions the kids throw at her.
Hopper gets to the Harrington house in record time, having sped just a little to get there. Mrs Harrington is the one who opens the door and looks a little guilty when she sees him.
"Where is he?" Hopper asks.
She steps back, letting him in. "In his room."
Hopper pushes past her, taking the stairs two at a time. Steve is sat at his desk when he enters the room without knocking, head snapping up and looking startled. He looks a little ashamed when he realizes that it's Hopper.
"Hop," Steves voice is strained. He frowns when Hopper ignores him, pulling his closet open. "Uh, Hopper? What are you doing?"
"Taking you home," Hopper mutters. He pulls out the three bags he knows Steve has been keeping hidden, just in case. "Come on, pack up."
"I can't just-"
"Yes you can. Pack. Up."
Steve only hesitates for a moment. He slowly fills up one with his few sentimental things and some things he considers important (his scoops uniform, the drawings from Will). Hopper stuffs the other two with clothes. It doesn't take them long.
"I'll come back for the rest, if you want any of it," Hopper hands Steve his car keys, waving him toward the stairs. "Wait in the car. I'll be a minute."
Steve hesitates at the door, glancing between Hopper and his mom. He leaves though, doesn't say goodbye.
"Right, here's what's going to happen; I'm going to come back for the rest of his things. I've seen that room, I'll know if somethings missing. And that shit is his, don't try to bullshit me." Hopper eyes her with visible distaste. "He's an adult now. You can't take him back and if I hear that either of you've been trying to harass him again, I'll press charges."
She nods, which is enough of an answer for him. He throws the two bags in the back with the third before climbing in the drivers seat. The air is thick with tension as he pulls out the drive, starting the drive back to the cabin.
"Um... could you, uh, drop me off at the trailer park?" Steve asks, quiet and timid in a way that is horribly familiar to Hopper. "I, uh... I need to see Eddie."
Hopper grunts. He grits his teeth to stop himself snapping. It wouldn't be fair on Steve. So he drives him there, quiet and tense.
"Thanks," Steve mumbles.
But Hopper climbs out too, gently grabbing Steves jacket lapels to drag him over to the Munsons trailer. Hopper knocks.
"Oh," Waynes eyebrows raise. He looks Hopper up and down before turning his eyes on Steve, who he gives a soft smile. "Harrington, you doing alright?"
"No," Hopper answers for him. "Could we come in for a moment?"
"Sure?" Wayne shuffles out the way, shutting the door behind them. "Eddie's in his room, if you want me to get him?"
"You want your boy to see?" Hopper asks Steve.
Steve ducks his head, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. He mutters, "he probably will anyway."
"Ok. Do you want him here for this?"
"Here for what?" Eddie asks, hovering in the doorway, worried. "What's happened?"
"Nothing," Steve tries to say. "It's... really, it's nothing."
"Steve," Hopper calmly says. Waits for Steve to look back at him, simply raises an eyebrow. "Where?"
"Hopper, it's fine, really."
"Where?"
Steve tries to stare him down, unsuccessfully. He huffs, annoyed, glancing at Wayne and Eddie who, understandably, look confused.
He slowly takes his jacket off, keeping his eyes on the floor. There's a sharp intake of breath when the dark, almost black, bruises on his arms are revealed. They litter the entirety of both arms, the ones around his left wrist and right bicep standing out the most- the ones shaped like hands.
"Steve," Eddie whispers, walking forward slowly. He's careful, brushing his fingers against his skin. "Oh, baby, who did this?"
"It's fine," Steve tries to insist.
Hopper clears his throat though. "Where else?"
Steve doesn't try to argue this time. He grabs the back of his collar, lifting his top off. His ribs have the worst of his bruises.
"Fuck," Eddie carefully, gently, pulls Steve into a hug. Presses gentle, ever so soft kisses to his neck. His hand is just as gentle when he rubs his back. Steve clings to him, grip looking almost painful, but Eddie doesn't complain.
Hopper turns to Wayne, who is also pointedly looking away so the two can have their moment. "His parents are gonna try to find him. Direct them to me if they try here."
"Don't worry about Steve," Wayne glances at the pair, still wrapped around each other, at the bruises. "Worry about them. If they try to come by here, they'll be leaving in a body bag. I'm sick of assholes treating my kids like this."
Hopper looks over at Eddie, who's pulling back so he can hold Steves face, eyes painfully understanding. He nods at Wayne, pats his shoulder. "I'm getting the rest of his stuff, he's got no reason to go back there. It's my cabin he's coming home to."
"I'll drive him there myself," Wayne glances at the pair, who think they're being subtle and sneaky as they giggle their way towards Eddies room. "Tomorrow."
Hopper chuckles, glancing towards the hall the two disappeared down. "Tomorrow."
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