#[bird you nerd ass]

[ducksinthesea]

Swanna mail! A handmade Quaquaval plush. It is around 6" (inches) tall.

Have a friend :)

-@plushanon

OMIGOD !!!!!!!!

he is sooo cute…. thank you so so much !!!! quaquaval i love youu !!!

i really owe you one, mysterious messenger!!! hit me up if you ever need transporting somewhere, or anything like that… i’d love to help !!!!!!!!

o.m.g … i should TOTES make him clothes and stuff. RIGHT ?? omg i need to show MY dudeguy my quaquaval.. he’ll love this.!!!! THANK YOU SOSOSOSO MUCH !!!!

[shewhoeatssand]

GALE IS GONE

[rafesteddy]

⭐ Republished ⭐

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

𝟿.𝟼𝙺 𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝

3.8k

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

📖 Rafe is your boyfriend… You just don’t know it yet.

⚠️ warnings contain spoliers ⚠️

swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral, violence, threats, blackmail, fighting, blood, gore, mentions of sextortion, Rafe sneaks into the reader’s room, panty stealing, panty sniffing, takes pictures of the reader’s private images, cum tasting, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, twist dark reader, mutual obsession, rough oral, gagging, kissing, reader doesn’t ask rafe if he wants to go further than oral but he does and she starts anyway, messy sex, squirting, praise, drinking, smoking, mentions of drug use

✨ “Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. ✨

Rafe’s POV:

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.

“I agree.”

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She’s not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can’t wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I’m gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I’m torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She’s a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she’s mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.

“All semester, and you haven’t made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.

“Long game,” he defends himself.

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn’t even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don’t even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I’m gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She’s mine.”

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I’m bigger. He can fight, but he’s not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn’t care less. And he knows it.

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.

“Mine.”

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you’re a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat’s money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I try… But, if we get busted, I’ll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl’s eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts… That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.

I’ll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. ���I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.

He’s fucking dead.

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy…

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.

I’ll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I’ll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.

My dirty little whore.

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.

“Positive,” I assure.

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I’ll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don’t think I can take this.

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post

@starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[kamospeach]

three's a crowd

starring: nerd!gojo x popular!reader x jock!suguru content warning: threesome duh, spanking, mating press, oral m!recieving, lil aftercare, boyfriends that are boyfriends, not that much tbh :P peachy's yap: chat i actually loved writing this ! pls give me more pairings in my asks hehehe

“20… 21… 22… fuck s-s-suguru c’mon.” satoru panted counting each slap suguru sent to your ass while his cock suffocated in his pants. If anyone in your college knew what the three of you were doing, you’d be shunned. How many girls get to say they have the most popular athlete and the richest guy on campus in their bed? How many girls get to say they got to fuck their hot best friends at that.

Rumors went around about the three of you. People claimed you had the men in some sick reverse harem (don’t let them see you with nanami, too, the rumors would fly like a bird). But I mean, they weren’t too far off; it wasn’t an harem, it was an occasional threesome here and there.

“I won’t stop until Satoru stops trying to help himself,” Suguru said, and that scared poor little Satoru straight. His legs were spread and his fists were balled tight as he counted your next 5 smacks. The two of you were leaking while Suguru’s bulge was pressed against your tummy, that laid over his lap. “You’re such a good boy, Satoru, maybe you could teach y/n how to listen like you.”

This was all because Suguru got jealous. He always ran every man you met away, and this new guy you were serious about. So when suguru asked, you refused to give him any details about the man. Satoru tried to stand up for you, but that only got him in just as much trouble as you.

“Sugu…” you whined as he rubbed your clit slowly in small circles. Your legs were shaking from the overwhelming pleasure, your pleading eyes beaded with tears. Satoru was torn between the two of you, wanting to be submissive for Suguru but dominant for you.

“You want Satoru to teach you?” he asked, beckoning Satoru over, and he wasted no time coming over to the two of you. You nodded eagerly, reaching out to rub his poor throbbing bulge.

Suguru smirked he was a freak, and he loved watching Satoru switch. Nothing got him more aroused than watching the two people he loved the most be intimate. He was having the time of his life watching your body lay at the end of the bed while satoru fucked into you like he was deprived.

Neither of them even bothered to take off your clothes for your planned coffee date. Your shirt still on, a tit threatening to slip out, skirt bunched up by your waist, and your fishnets ripped.

The way your legs were pressed to your chest and Satoru’s body leaned over yours. He was so close to spilling his cum all over satoru’s round ass. His cock rubbed against his ass every time Satoru thrusted in and out of you. 

“You think she’ll finally learn her lesson, Toru? Think she’ll be a good girl for us?” Suguru whispered in Satoru’s ear, but you heard it anyway. Satoru was fucking you so good your eyes were rolled to the back of you head. But that still didn’t stop you from commenting.

“F-fuck.. hah… both of you,” you said, words broken up by your pornographic moans. Usually, Suguru was the one who got angry at your vulgar words, but this time, something snapped in Satoru His thrust sped up and his rhythm became sloppily and he fucked you senseless.

“Looks like you made him angry, baby. Open your eyes, look at him while he fucks you,” he instructed sending a rough smack to satoru’s ass making him whimper. You forced your eyes open, immediately looking into those big blue eyes that were two shades darker out of anger.

“It’s fuck me? That’s what you said?” he asked, his voice strained, throat dry as a desert from the series of events. His glasses were fogged up, and sweat dripped from his forehead. Suguru didn't say anything, just quietly moved from behind Satoru and knelt next to your head. His fat cock above your face and stroking his cock to the look on your fucked out face.

“Mmm toru…” You whined, looking Suguru in the eyes, knowing how he felt about eye contact. His cock twitched in his hands with each pump just from the way you looked at him.

“P-please make her suck it sugu, w-wanna see her mouth stuffed with you.” satoru whined begging his hips slowing to a halt as he hyperfixated on the two of you.

“Open for me pretty,” he instructed you to open your mouth. The minute your mouth opened he was fucking your throat mercilessly. Your jaw was hurting from the jump, and your gags were music to his ears. The sloppy spit and your teary eyes were enough to have the two men filling you full. “want you to cum with me toru, can you hold it until i’m ready?” he asked and toru moaned with a small nod.

“Yeah, I can… hah… i can wait.” his eyes were trained on the spit that bubbled around suguru as he fucked your throat. Your mascara was running down your eyes, and lip gloss was still on your lips. “Can… can y/n cum with us too sugu please?”

Hearing him whine and beg had you clenching around him. He was always so caring, always asking for you, caring about you, even when he knew Suguru would get mad. You looked up at Suguru's eyes, matching Satoru’s pleading words.

“Mhm,” he hummed, grabbing Satoru’s chin, kissing his wet lips still fucking your throat. The sight was enough to make you moan, which caused Suguru to groan in Satoru’s mouth. Satoru was rubbing your clit while fucking you making your pleasure double fucking you harder than before.

It was obvious they both were starting to chase their highs, rushing to finish. You were getting closer and closer to finishing, and you were hoping so were they. You resorted to playing with Suguru’s balls, a weak attempt at milking him, knowing he was the one who lasted the longest.

“Sugu m’ready…” Satoru, whined, looking up at him with those blue eyes, pouting as he felt his climax piercing through him. 

“Wait one more minute for me, Toru, you’re doing so good, so are you y/n you’re both so good.” he was clearly rambling now. Which was a tell-tale sign that he was closer than he let on. “So wet, so hot, fuck m’cumming. Shit.” 

“On one, mkay?” Gojo said, and the two of you nodded ready to cum when ever gojo finished the countdown. “3… 2… 1,” he said as he released inside you, the sight of your body convulsing and suguru’s dick twitching in your month had him unload more cum than usual. 

Suguru kept his cock in your mouth until he was completely drained. He used his thumb to open your mouth removing his cock letting it slap against your face. You stuck out your tongue, showing him you swallowed it all, panting like a dog. Out of breath wasn’t even the word to explain how you felt; you were exhausted. 

You could tell it wasn’t over for Satoru, Suguru still had a hungry look in his eyes. But sweet satoru was fucked out dick lip on his tummy as he laid next to you. You pushed the hair out of his face, giggling at his drowsy eyes. You leaned down, kissing his forehead, out of nowhere, hands gripped your waist, lifting you from the bed.

“Gonna start you a bath, Satoru’s not done yet.” Suguru smiled as he turned on the water for you.

“W-wait, huh, what do you mean?” Satoru asked, and Suguru ignored him as he made sure your bath was nice and warm. He even added a little bath bomb in there for you while Satoru was begging for answers. “Hey. Suguru! Don’t be like that man!” 

[cyripticchronicler]

How Could I Hate You?

Paring: James Potter x Fem!reader

Summary: You’ve hated James Potter for as long as you could remember. However, entering your last year as Head Girl and James as Head Boy, you’re forced to interact with the man you want nothing to do with. What are you supposed to do when you realise he’s not the egotistical jerk you made him out to be?

T/W: None

A/N: It's been way too long!! I've been more into writing poems lately, so I haven't had time for my lovely fan fictions. However, I sat in a forest and listened to the birds sing for a while today and finally gained enough inspiration to finish writing this fic I started a little while ago (this is also my longest fic yet, so go me). I hope everyone's doing well!!

Masterlist James Potter Masterlist

You absolutely hated James Potter. His egotistical smile grated at your nerves like no other, an unhappy frown pulling at your lips every time he was around. Paired with his unserious personality and sickly handsome face, you wanted nothing to do with the man. 

However, fate - or Hogwarts for that matter- had other ideas, and both you and James Potter became Head Boy and Head girl during your last year. 

James Potter barely knew anything about you. He vaguely remembers you during third year, the meek, quiet girl that accidentally fell victim to one of the Maruader’s prank’s, leaving you with half of your hair coloured pink. The half-assed apology you received was nothing compared to the judgmental and amused looks you received in the month it took for your hair to return to normal. 

The ever-loved James had planned to mention this story to break the ice between you both. He was so used to being loved by everyone that he couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face when you merely smiled at his story and kept walking. 

He was not one to give up. “You really did suit the pink,” He jokes, bright, eager eyes looking at you in hopes of seeing just a smidge of a smile. All he got was a fake laugh in return. 

You didn’t hold a grudge against him for the prank he did years ago, but still couldn’t get over the mere audacity this man possessed with each step he took and flirty comment he made. You look over at him from where he walks beside you, head down, hands in his robe pockets. Perhaps you were being too hard on the boy. He’s Head Boy, so he can’t be that bad- “You always take things so seriously, don’t you? It’s no surprise that you’re only friends with boring nerds.” He laughs, nudging your shoulder playfully. 

Ouch. Hurt stings your heart, and you attempt to shake it off. Your steps falter for a short moment, but long enough for James to notice. He frowns, worried that he’s hurt you. Before he can backtrack or apologise, you’re already ahead, speaking your first words of the night to a third-year roaming the corridors and ordering them to go back to their dorm. They roll their eyes but comply, and James feels it too late to apologise. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

“Don’t make me go,” You plead like a four-year-old, wrapping your arms around Dorcas’ right arm. She looks up from the book in her hands and attempts to shake you off, her voice laced with amusement. “You’re the one who wanted to be Head Girl. So go and fulfill your duties and patrol with the infamous James Potter.”

“He’s horrible, Dorcas,” You whine, falling down to the floor when she manages to shake you off, a low groan escaping your lips when you hit your head particularly hard. You know you’re being pathetic, but you’re allowed to be when you’re stuck walking with an egotistical teenage boy three nights a week.

“He’s the golden boy with a six-pack and a cute smile. Stop complaining and flirt!” A pillow is thrown at you to emphasise her words, and you groan once again. With a glare sent her way and a huff, you stand up from your spot on the carpeted floor, still staring at her as you dramatically open the door. 

“Don’t have too much fun!” You scoff, turning around to leave and running into the one person you really didn’t want to see. 

James Potter leans against the wall beside the door, a playful smirk playing on his stupidly handsome face. “Not too much fun, hey?” You resist the urge to pull his glasses off of his face and throw them to the floor. 

You hate that you can feel your cheeks start to heat, growing shy at the realisation that he heard what Dorcas said. Avoiding his eyes, you close the door behind you and rush down the steps, trying not to focus on the steps sounding behind you. 

It’s only when you exit the common room that he speaks again. “How are you?” He questions, ensuring his steps match with yours. “Fine.” You bluntly respond. At the awkward silence and the fact you can’t stand being impolite, you coldly ask, “How are you?”

He visibly perks up at your question, raising his head to look at you with his golden brown eyes and million-dollar smile. “I’m good! I’ve been practicing for the Quidditch match this weekend. Are you going to come?”

“No.” You state, folding your arms against your chest and looking ahead. Your shoes clatter against the stone steps, the cool night air hugging your skin. 

“You don’t have to feel bad about going alone. It will still be fun!” He smiles goofily, revealing more of his throat as he looks up at the stars. Your admiration is cut short when you process what he said. “Um…what?”

The way James’s eyes widened would have been almost comical if you weren’t so offended. “That sounds bad. You can bring people, obviously, but I just figured you’d go alone-“

“Do you think I have no friends or something?” You've stopped in the middle of the field, eyes narrowed in accusation. You dig your nails into your arm, focusing on the pain it creates instead of the pain his words inflict. 

“No! I mean - you're just always…y’know…by yourself.” He stumbles, hands raising in defence. Your tongue rolls against the inside of your cheek. “So now I’m a loner?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. “No. No. Merlin, can you just listen to me?” At your silence, he continues, “I shouldn’t have assumed that you'd go alone, but can you blame me? You never go out, and I just figured that if you were to go out, you'd be by yourself.” 

The sound of crickets is the only thing that can be heard, an uncomfortable silence thick between you. You take a deep breath and turn your back to him, beginning to walk back to the castle. “I saw a movement in one of the potions classrooms, I’m going to check it out.”

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t, James. Just don’t.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

James Potter’s eyes bore into yours from across the Great Hall, and you’ve never been so grateful for Miss McGonagall as she leads you around the room, pointing at areas in the room. “This year's theme for the yule ball is going to be Winter Wonderland. You and James have two months to decorate this entire hall. I want you two working together on making a wonderfully decorated ball…”

Her words are quickly drowned out by the discomfort bubbling in your stomach. James walks away from where he is, looking around to listen in to what Miss McGonagall is saying. It’s only when she walks away that you finally process your surroundings. “Looks like we’re going to have to spend a lot of time together.” He laughs uncomfortably. 

You guys haven’t spoken since that awkward night two days ago, and he’s unsure how to act around you. “I guess we will.” You lean against the wall behind you, sliding down and sitting on the cool floor with crossed legs. Taking out a pad of paper and some charcoal from your bag, you begin a quick sketch of the room. 

You’re surprised when James sits beside you, stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies. “What…are you doing?” 

He turns to look at you, dimples staring right at you. “You heard her, we’re doing this together.” He’s careful to keep a good distance, and you keep your head down, eyes on the paper in front of you. “I’m just doing a quick sketch.” 

He taps the paper gently. “It’s very good. Do you draw often?” You ignore his attempts at making conversation and instead begin a hopefully short conversation about the decorations. “I was thinking we could have white roses in the middle of each table and maybe this tree archway.” 

He sighs at the change of conversation. “Listen, about the other day-”

“James, we really don’t need to talk about it. I don’t like you, but I can remain professional, and that’s all that matters.” At the defeated, almost frustrated look in his eyes, you can’t help but scoff. “What? Can’t you handle the thought that someone doesn’t like you? As much as people say you are, you’re not all that.” You abruptly stand up and begin walking out the hall, poison lacing your voice, “I’ll send you the list of ideas I have for the ball, and you do the same. We can talk about it more next time you’re free.”

You’re already out of the room before he can utter a word. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

Despite the cruel words you uttered the last time you saw each other, James Potter shows up to your library get-together with a bright smile on his face. “Hello, love. I brought you a cupcake. Red velvet.” He places it on the table in front of you, and you shift your attention from your book to the small, delicious treat. 

“You’re late,” You mutter grumbly. Despite your angry mood, you still slowly grab the cupcake, immediately bringing it to your mouth, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’m sorry. I’m a busy man, y’know?” 

“I’m busy, too, James. We only have ten minutes to go over everything before I have to help this group of first-year students with Potions.” You scowl, rolling your eyes and continuing to eat the cupcake. 

He ignores your words and instead grabs the book you were reading in front of you. “This is a muggle book, is it not? I’ve seen my friend Remus reading this.” You yank the book back and carefully put it into your bag. “Yes, he’s the one who recommended it to me.”

In hopes of reducing personal conversation, you jump straight into talking about the ball. “Now, about the ball. I’ve given the list of things we need to Miss McGonagall. The stuff should arrive next week Monday. We need to figure out what days we’re free to decorate.” You fiddle with the cupcake wrapper, looking down at his ruffled robes rather than his eyes. 

“I’m busy on Saturdays for Quiddich practice, and I’m going to a party on Friday.” He smiles, unbothered by your quiet, grumpy mood. 

“Okay, we can do Sundays and Tuesdays after school. Now, because you showed up so damn late I have to go and we’re going to have to meet again so let me know when you’re free.” He follows you when you stand up, gently grabbing hold of your arm before you can leave. 

He forces you to stare into his eyes, and you’re surprised at the pure sincerity in them. “I’m sorry for being late. It won’t happen again.”

You take a deep breath, overwhelmed with confusion at the fact he apologised. “Okay. I forgive you. Don’t let it happen again, please.”

“Of course.” He doesn’t let go of your arm like you expected, instead, he holds it tighter. “Are you free Friday night? Come to the party with me.”

“I’m not free Friday. I have a date.” 

“A date?” His voice is deep, unfamiliar. You nod awkwardly and pull your arm from his grip. “Yeah, I’m not actually a loner, James.” You laugh awkwardly before walking away. 

You leave him standing there, gaping at your retreating figure.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

You can hear James before you can see him. His loud, heavy footsteps, matched with his obnoxious laugh, is enough to warn you about his presence.

You keep your focus on the task at hand, moving your wand up as you attach decor to the roof. He’s unfazed by your cool attitude, playfully nudging your shoulder. 

“So…” his voice grates at your nerves more than usual, “how’d  your date go?”

Right. The date. The reason for your extra pissy mood this morning. “It was fine.” You hoped he would get the hint that you didn’t want to talk about it, but James couldn’t take a sign if it smacked him in the face.

“Just fine? Tell me about it,” he pestered, gently poking your side, the hand holding your wand falters, the decoration almost falling to the floor. You give up on your task, glaring and beginning to walk away.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Cmonnnn,” his voice raises a pitch and you scowl, “tell me how it went.” He goes to grab your arm, and you move back. You scoff. “I don't want to talk about it.”

His brown, usually playful eyes turn serious in an instant. A crease formed between his brows, and a frown that didn’t suit his usually happy face painted his lips. “Did he do something?”

At the concern and genuine curiosity in his voice, you can’t help but let your shoulders fall, keeping your head down as you whisper, “he didn’t even show.” 

“Oh.” Pink tints your cheeks, and shame curls your spine. “Wel,l it’s his loss. I’m sure he would have had a blast if he went”

You clear your throat and begin sorting through boxes, trying to ignore the lump in your chest. “Yeah, I guess.” He moves to stand next to you, shoulders almost brushing while he sorts things next to you. 

“I mean it.” He turns his head to look at you, and you look back, captured by those swirling brown eyes. “Any guy would be lucky to go on a date with you.”

A shaky breath leaves your parted lips, and you're unsure why his words have such an impact on you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes never broke eye contact. Maybe it’s because he’s standing right under a lamp, and his hair looks golden brown. Or maybe it’s because his words only held sincerity- even longing, if you felt like being delusional. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

James Potter was pointing a wand at your face. 

He was all arrogance as he crept closer towards you, a stupid smirk on his stupid face, his stupid eyes alight with mischief. 

You raise your own wand, the wood cool and familiar in your hands, gripping it tightly. You watch his movements- the way his shoulders tense slightly and his eyes squint a smidge. “Expelliarmus.” His voice rings out, sure and loud. Expecting his attack, you're quick to block the spell. 

You address the crowd without taking your eyes off of the boy in front of you. “When sparring, you want to study the person. Learn their tells.” The group of students nod in acknowledgment, much more interested in seeing who will win instead of learning. 

The Defence against the Dark Arts teacher wanted you and James to come in and give a visual demonstration of sparring for some of the younger students. You were happy to agree, having only dreamed of a moment like this. 

James was making it easy to spar with him: with his cocky comments about how he was going to win and the flirty winks he keeps shooting your way, you were more than happy to get him on his knees. 

“Stupefy,” you mutter, scowling when he shouts a defence spell. “You're doing well,” he smiles encouragingly, “I’m pretty good at sparring and most people would have been on their ass by now.” 

It’s the fact that he seems genuinely surprised at your doing well that sends annoyance travelling up your spine. His ego is bigger than Snapes, Merlin could he be anymore of an ass? 

“Do you want me to go easy on you-“

“-langlock.” He’s quiet in an instant, unable to speak with his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Eyes widened in shock, the hand that holds his wand falters, and you don’t hesitate to yell, “Levicorpus.”

The forgotten crowd behind you laughs as an imaginary force holds James in the air by his ankle. “I saw you use this on someone just the other day. How does it feel to be on the receiving end?” Despite the obvious annoyance swirling in his eyes, a glint lightens the caramel brown. 

“It feels rather sickening, I’d admit,” he groans, his head getting redder by the second. You smile at his obvious discomfort. “Do you want me to go easy on you?” You mock, voice lowering in a feeble attempt to match his voice. 

Despite his complicated position, he smiles brightly at your teasing. “If you wouldn’t mind, love.” You point your wand and smile innocently. “Okay.” The loud thud of him falling to the ground is enough to make you smile.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

“She beat me at a duel. Me, James Potter.” His voice was especially loud as he walked around aisles in the library, an amusing look of shock on his face. Remus snorts from beside him, walking towards a particular genre of books. 

“Believe it or not, James, you’re not always going to win. And she’s one of the best students in the school.” Despite James’ whiny tone, his heart was filled with pride. He knew you were a good witch, and he was finally glad to witness first-hand what you were made of. 

“Now,” James catches himself before he completely stumbles into Remus, shooting the scarred man a sheepish smile. “This is the book you wanted, right?” Despite himself, James feels the apple of his cheeks turn red at the familiar book cover in Remus’s hands. 

Merlin, what he’s doing is so dorky and pathetic. But he didn’t like the idea that he knew nothing about your hobby of reading - a hobby you waste most of your days doing. So he forced Remus to come to the library with him, under the guise of wanting to pick up a new hobby. He managed to remember the name of the book you were reading and asked Remus to find it for him. 

Grabbing the book from Remus’s hands, he began walking towards the counter, hoping Remus would return to studying and leave it at that. His hopes were not answered. “I’m surprised you’re getting into reading. It’s never been your thing.”

Recognising the suspicion in his voice, James walks faster. “Just wanted to try something new.”

“Well, it’s funny you picked that book; you know this is a certain Head Girl’s favorite book?”

He doesn’t look back. “Really? I didn’t even know she could…read.” At his mix-up, he comes to a complete halt, shoulders slumping in defeat. He keeps his head down as he mutters, “Fine, I chose this book because she read it.”

“Really? I thought she couldn’t read.” At James’ glare, Remus’ amused expression turns into one of pity. “James Potter is reading for a girl. A girl that beat him in a duel, nonetheless. Do you have a crush?” James scowls despite his pinking cheeks, and Remus laughs gently in response. 

“I do not have a crush. I just think I should be getting to know her more since she’s Head Girl and she doesn’t like me much.” James finally reaches the counter, chucking the dastard book on the counter much too harshly for the librarian's liking, earning a scathing glare that he ignores. 

Remus doesn’t continue the conversation any longer, but the silence does nothing to calm the fast beating of his heart as his thoughts spiral and his breathing becomes uneven. James might just have a crush on you.  

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

It was becoming harder and harder to dislike James. In fact, you weren’t sure why you were ever angry at him. Sure, he’s arrogant and immature, but right now, all you can think about is the way he’s comforting a crying first-year in the hall, genuine worry coating his actions as he pulls the little boy in for a hug. 

You’re not sure what to do, standing there awkwardly in the hall and shuffling on your feet. You can’t look away; the kind look in James’ eyes is too sincere, his smile is too perfect, and his words are too warm. You’re scared you’re going to melt. 

“It’s okay, bud. They’re mean and cruel, but you’re strong. You stood up for yourself, and that’s pretty great.” You can’t take this side of James. His caring, nurturing side. 

So you turn around and smile awkwardly at one of the moving paintings. Behind you, you can faintly hear James mutter the words, “You’re going to be a great seeker one day,” then some shuffling before a gentle hand is placed on your shoulder. 

You jump and turn to meet James’s amused eyes. “What are you doing staring at the wall, love?” Your eyebrows raise, and your eyes widen, mind whirring to come up with an answer besides the truth. “I just realised I’ve never actually stopped to appreciate the stone walls.”

“You’re an interesting one,” He claims with no real malice. You just laugh awkwardly and keep walking. “Is that first year okay?”

His smile dims at the thought of the young boy. “He’s alright. I promised to take him to Quiddich training one day; he wants to be a seeker.”

“That’s awfully thoughtful of you.” You smile, raising your eyes to look into his for barely a minute before looking away. If you had looked long enough, you would have noticed the pink that travelled up his neck and painted his cheeks, mouth open like a blubbering fish. 

In hopes of looking calm and casual, he strugs off your compliment with an awkward,  “U-u,h it was nothing, really.” You’re not ready to let the conversation end. “No, it was really sweet-”

“I’m reading a book!” 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. James Potter was a stupid, awkward young man - or at least he thought so. You didn’t mind the abrupt change in topic, especially if it was about a book.

Your face visibly lit up, the warm spark in your eyes growing tenfold. “Yeah? What book?”

The casual name drop of your favorite book coming from James’ deep voice has a bright smile taking over your gleeful face. James was too happy to be blinded by such a light. 

“Really?” At his nod, you grip his arm and jump like a crazed woman. “I love that book!” You stop jumping and stare hopefully, wanting to know his every thought about the book you’ve read more times than you could count. 

“Really? I had no idea,” He laughs awkwardly. “The main character is probably my favorite.” It’s only when he starts walking do you remember that you’re still holding onto his arm, awkwardly dropping it at your side. 

“The main character?” He nods. You move your hand to fiddle with your hair. “I…She always reminded me of me. She’s always underestimated because she’s quiet, which I understand, and some of the things she’s gone through reminds me of my own memories- not that I’m saying you like her because she reminds you of me or anything.” 

At your anxious ramblings, James stops, a gentle smile pulling at his plush lips. He moves so his eyes meet yours, and you’re too captivated to look away. “No, that’s exactly why she’s my favorite. She reminds me of you.” 

Your stunned silence doesn’t bother him, and he moves closer, the soles of his shoes touching yours. A large hand moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you’re sure that you’re dreaming things when he mutters, “And that guy she’s dating? The captain of the football team? He reminds me of me. Different sport and all, but desperate for the attention of the girl.” 

The whispers of his words graze your cheek, and you’re glad he had pulled away quickly before you did something stupid like kiss him. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 

You stared at the hall like an artist would stare at their paintings. Everything had come out better than you expected, and you were in awe of the glowing lights that shimmered in the eyes of the happy students as they danced and laughed. 

Your eyes shimmered, but you were void of laughter and dance. No one had asked you to the Yule Ball, and you had no desire to ask anyone yourself. You didn’t mind being alone, you just didn’t like the pitying looks being thrown your way. Dorcas was already lost on the dance floor, and you didn’t want to ruin her night.

So you stood in the corner, smiling at the buzz of happiness that floated across the room. You weren’t alone for long. “Would you care for a dance?” James Potter was clad in a suit, standing in front of you with a playful smirk and outstretched hand. 

A laugh of absurdity broke free from your coloured lips. “Ginny has been looking at you ever since you entered the hall. Go dance with her.” Despite your words, you wanted him to stay. His presence was comforting.

“Ginny and I didn’t work hard for months decorating this hall. Now,” He shakes his outstretched hand impatiently, “let’s dance.” 

You wouldn’t be surprised if the punch was spiked because you lost your inhibitions too quickly for your liking, grasping his warm hand and letting him drag you onto the dance floor. 

With his hand on your waist and the other holding yours, you’re forced to distract yourself from his touch by the band that plays at the front, the slow, deep voice of the singer enough to make you want to fall asleep. 

You rest your cheek on his shoulder and close your eyes. 

“Tired?” The kiss he places on your neck is enough to make you wide awake again, but you still nod.

“I bet you are. You’ve been working so hard lately with the ball and with the test you had today. How did that go, by the way? I’m sure you did great-”

“What are you doing?” You tense under his touch, his words, his hands, all becoming too much. As if sensing your discomfort, he pulls away. “What do you mean?” 

You stare at him for a short moment before your gaze falls to your fiddling hands. “You’re being…kind. I don’t know what to do.”

“Be kind back, maybe?” He attempts to joke but falls short. “I don’t know why you have such a hard time being kind to me, but if I’ve done something wrong, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I really do like you.”

Your silence is enough to make him pull away; you grow cold without his touch. 

“I’m sorry.” He stops his quick actions of leaving. “I’m not…I’ve been cold, and I’m sorry. You’re just so…scary. Merlin, the only interaction we had before we became Head Boy and Head Girl was when you turned my hair pink.”

He takes a step closer, and you take a step back, guilt spilling out of you in the form of words. 

“It’s just…I judged you wrongly, and I’m sorry. I really am. You’re not an egotistical and mean person. You’re actually really sweet, and it’s playing with my heart. I’m torn between caring for you like I haven’t cared for anyone before and thinking of you the way I always thought of you. 

He reaches for your hands, cradling them gently. “I understand. I’ve only really shown you the arrogant side of myself, and it’s not wrong for you to assume I am otherwise. It’s just much easier to talk to a pretty lady when I feel like I can make her mine.”

“You could have any girl in the school, and you know that.” He shakes his head at your words, the sound of laughter fading behind you as he leads you away from the hall, down corridors and through doors until you’re both outside, the moonlit glow hugging you like a baby’s blanket.

He tightens his grip on your hands and utters with a small smile, “I couldn’t have the only one that really matters because I messed it up when I dyed half her hair pink.”

You scoff and avoid his eyes. “You could have me.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Just don’t break my heart.”

“To break your heart would be to break my own. Why would I want to break something that I care for so deeply? That is worth the gold of millions of men?” He falls to his knees in front of you, hands gently gripping the fabric of your dress, looking up at you with eyes filled with more passion than a writer writing a romance. 

You let yourself breathe in the cool night air, the cold spreading against your flushed skin. “I’m scared. You’re too good for me, James. Too good for me.” Despite yourself, your shaking hand moves to cup his cheek. He places a long kiss on your palm, never breaking contact with your misty eyes. 

“Why would you say that, my love? You have so much courage. So much power and kindness.” At your silence, he slowly raises, never wanting to be separated from your touch as his hands move to your hips and his head falls to the crook of your neck. 

Your hands fall to his head, playing with his soft curls. You look up at the ceiling and sniff as a lone tear falls down your cheek. “I’m sorry for being so rude when we first met.”

“And I’m sorry for turning your hair pink.” His breath tickles your neck. 

“You’re forgiven.” 

You can barely get the words out before his lips are against yours, gentle and warm and right where you want them to be. 

[visenyaism]

hearing about the great bastards ocs as someone who doesnt know that part of westeros history is so funny... who is dae2mon... who is anus blackfyre

Okay so. There’s this king Aegon “The Unworthy” the 4th (ae4gon if you don’t have time) and because he was just kind of born under a bad sign he was the wooooooooorst guy ever like comically terrible recreationally cruel misanthropic turbohedonist. Just fucking disrespectful. He didn’t have an evil plan or anything. He was just kind of using his power to antagonize everyone he disliked enrich himself and also have one million mistresses.

He had two siblings who were the exact opposite of him and that his sister and brother were both the most neurotic westerosi tradcaths. Ae4gon hated his brother Aemon (lame ass knight who died in his service, despite despising him, which was kind of dickrider behavior )and used his sister Naerys (baby-bird-victim-wannabe-nun) who he also had to marry as a weapon against him because he knew they liked each other so he would just kind of be awful to her as a way to get into his brother‘s mind. Ae4gon and Naerys had two children who survived to adulthood the important one to this story is Daeron, who was by all accounts kind of a nerd he like was chubby and liked to read books and think about his decisions before he made them.

But Ae4gon also had his aforementioned like 1 billion mistresses and he had kids with all of them. Those kids are called great bastards these are the ocs. The most important canon ones are Bittersteel who’s the bracken one he’s like 7 foot eight and fucking belligerent and then there’s Bloodraven who’s the Blackwood one and he’s an evil twink who invented the surveillance state using bird blood magic and also only has one eye because Bittersteel ate it during a duel. i’m getting ahead of myself. There’s also Shiera who had two different color eyes and was the most prettiest princess in the party and also maybe a blood witch? she was trying to challengers Bloodraven and Bittersteel a little bit but ended up hooking up with Bloodraven more until she left him? who knows.

However, the most important bastard child of all was Daemon “Daemy B” Blackfyre. His mom was a Targaryen Princess who should have been the queen except misogyny did win the war on misogyny during the dance of the dragons so she wasn’t. Daemy B was a bastard, but he was his dad‘s favorite because he was masc and had an eight pack and a magic sword he was named after called blackfyre, which was Valyrian steel. Ae4gon gave it to him instead of Daeron, his legitimate heir.

One day Ae4gon got bored and decided that he was gonna declare Daeron the illegitimate child of his two siblings, cause he didn’t like him. this successfully killed off both of his siblings (don’t worry about it) and made Daemy B a more likely contender for the crown. And then another day Ae4gon got bored again and decided that not only was he going to die, but on his way out, he was actually going to retroactively legitimize every single one of his thousand bastard children so they could start a realm destroying civil war because fuck the world.

For a while, no one started around destroying civil war, but then about 12 years passed and Bittersteel with his bracken treachery, convinces Daemy B to make a go for the throne because he was way hotter and sword-er than his brother. Every single one of the Blackfyre allies is like the evil league of evil it’s Brackens it’s Peakes it’s Toynes I know there would be Coles there probably. it’s also racists because Daeron had a Dornish Martell wife because he negotiate a peace treaty to bring Dorne into the realm through marriage and alliances, instead of just trying to kill them all again and some did not like this.

However, Daemy B forgot to consider that having the Brackens on his side meant that he would LOSE. and they had a big battle at the end of the first rebellion where Daemy B gets shot and dies because of Bloodraven and Shiera inventing heat-seeking weirwood missiles. Bittersteel cuts out Bloodraven’s eye and then takes Daemy B’s like one billion kids he had with his wife and flees to essos.

However, (man I introduced the thread of this guy having a lot of kids too late) anyway, Daemy B has a lot of kids and those kids about once every 20 minutes decides they’re gonna do a Blackfyre Rebellion cause maybe it’ll work this time.

One of those kids is Daemon II Blackfyre (Dae2mon), who is the Mystery Knight in the Dunk and Egg Novella in the Mystery Knight. He is a melancholic twink who loves to play the fiddle and is constantly haunted by his prophetic dreams. He says I dreamed of you. He hits on Dunk who is too stupid to clock it. He goes over to Westeros to start another Blackfyre rebellion, which is contingent on winning a tourney and hatching a dragon egg but it doesn’t work because Bloodraven did invent the modern surveillance state using bird blood magic and thus identifies it instantly thwarts the whole thing and takes Dae2mon hostage he’s like the court gay false prophet purse dog for a while and then he dies mysteriously. He’s my favorite for being Renly Baratheon.

This pattern of Blackfyres coming over trying to start a rebellion and getting Bloodraven nuked from orbit continues until there is a great council because the king has no heirs. And Bloodraven invites Aenys Blackfyre, the current Blackfyre, over to westeros to be like okay we will hear you out. This is JUST an excuse to kill his ass. However in a twist of fate WOKE EGG becomes the king at the council and is like Bloodraven you canttttttttt actually just invite people to my house to kill them. That was my cousin I did not like that you🫵 are going to the wall🙂‍↕️. And woke egg sends Bloodraven to the wall. Bloodraven gets himself elected lord commander and then deserts to go be a tree. The end. Sort of.

[n0rmal-cat]

New aliens design because the first time was a little rushed

Mostly the same but you can see the differences lol

Watermelon is not taller I just can’t fit them both of the same line or a limb gets cut off.

Like I said before garden is kinda a nerd, but they also have the ability to summon little digital things through vines. Like little mini versions of themselves so no reason other than being cute.

They are the best captain/ship navigator, they have fought before and are very good at it they just don’t enjoy it as much as driving their stupid ship.

Watermelon black strips are scars, most of them are on his feet because that was his main weapon, think like a bird going in for the kill.

Well their are your old ass parents have a good day 👍

What oc should I draw next?

[clementine-writes-things]

MacCready Headcanons (SFW)

A/N: My headcanons are always really long and detailed bc I love making them. So, sorry if this one is really long. I love MacCready.

Personality:

He is smart when it comes to survival, but not when it comes to robotics or science. In situations like that, he's the equivalent of a drooling baby.

Super sarcastic. He tends to "lighten" tense situations with humor. He'll see a group of raiders/super mutants/etc and say shit like "Oh, well here comes the welcome wagon!"

Even though he is only 22, he has been through a lot of shit. Because of this, he isn't easily trusting of others, and he is very reserved. He is always suspicious of people until they give him a reason not to be.

MacCready isn't really arrogant, but he knows he's dangerous. He knows he's a good shot. If someone pisses him off, he'll inform them of this fact by subtly revealing the pistol on his hip.

"Wanna watch your tone?"

Once you further your friendship/relationship with him, he'll become more and more comfortable with opening up, and he'll show concern/care for you more. However, if you aren't that close, he simply does not give a fuck.

He's not insanely tall (5'10), but he's still intimidating when in his presence. It's hard to explain, but his "resting face" is piercing. It's like he's staring into your soul...

He's very desensitized to death because he saw so much when he ran with the gunners, but he hates seeing people in pain.

He's horrible with small talk, tells terrible jokes, and can be an asshole (though, he doesn't mean to be)

When you get close with him, he can be pretty protective. It's sad, but ever since Lucy, he's felt like a failure for not being able to save her. So, whenever there is an opportunity to help you, he jumps at it.

Once your relationship is strong, he doesn't like it when you travel without him. It's not because he's jealous, but because he's worried something bad will happen when he's not with you. He doesn't want you to end up like Lucy...

HUGE piner. The more he travels with you, the more he grows fond of you. He'll find himself thinking of you, even if you're not with him.

He'll hear a song on the radio and think "this reminds me of them"

This man is extremely violent when he needs to be. He'll threaten people, and his threats are ALWAYS promises. He isn't afraid to kick someone's ass, especially if they are a piece of shit.

Hobbies:

Collects comics. Specifically, Grognak The Barbarian. He knows everything about them and nerds out if he finds a comic.

When he isn't traveling with you, he chills at a settlement and listens to Diamond City radio while modifying his weapons.

Because he was a farmer for a little while, he likes to tend to crops in his free time. It reminds him of Duncan and Lucy.

He taught himself how to read back in the Capital Wasteland, and he'll occasionally read old books he finds.

Random:

He literally hates Radroaches so much. They make him so uncomfortable. Gags whenever he sees one.

His favorite colors are mossy green and sunset orange.

Believe it or not, he actually takes care of himself. He bathes (when he gets an opportunity), brushes his teeth when he can find toothpaste, and brushes his hair everyday.

Misses Little Lamplight so much. Sometimes, if he's at a settlement, he'll sleep in a cave near it, or sleep with blankets covering his head to mimic the darkness.

Random Things He'd Say/Do:

(Sees a tripwire, nearly activating the trap. He clutches a hand to his chest.) "My heart just fell to my as-, uh...let's keep going..."

(Stops walking to look at a bird, eyes narrowing.) "Think it'd taste good?"

(Stubs toe and bites on his tongue. Instead of cussing, he lets out a shaky breath, putting his head against the wall.) "Ouch."

(Y/n trips, making MacCready roll his eyes.) "Jesus, stay aware of your surrou-" (Trips and faceplants.)

(Y/n and MacCready are at a trading outpost. It's clear that the trader is trying to swindle y/n. MacCready takes a drag from his cigarette, pointing it at the trader.) "You want me to snuff this out in your eye, dude? Stop dicking around with us."

[samsswife]

𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕 - 𝒔. 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

❥ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 - you and sam can’t stand each other, but there’s a tension between you both. a hot, heavy, breathtaking tension.

❥ sam winchester x fem!reader, nsfw

❥ features: smut with little storyline, fingering, oral sex (sam giving), swearing, making out, teasing, praising, pet names- baby, beautiful, overstimulation, mentions of reader being shorter than sam, kinda cute ending.

❥ word count: 1,592

❥ a/n: i thought of this idea and was going to make it for soulless!sam instead but decided not to. if you want me to make a soulless sam version though lmk!

❥ m.list

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

You and Sam couldn’t stand eachother. He was a smart ass and you just pissed him off. You’d ask for clarification on something he said to you and he’d roll his eyes, acting like you were stupid before answering you, almost condescendingly. You would always repeat what he said in a nerd voice, you found it funny. Sam not so much. It was mutual. You didn’t like eachother, that was all it was.

Till it wasn’t.

You’d be arguing but you’d both get a little too close, so close you were able to smell him. Feel his breath against your forehead as he spoke down at you. The tension would build and build, making it feel impossible to breathe, and that smirk on his face was doing no help to cool the growing heat in your lower stomach. And then you’d both snap out of it, returning to whatever it is you were doing.

You’d be lying if you said sometimes you didn’t pick fights with him just to get close to him.

But you didn’t know why.

You hated Sam, truly hated him. But you weren’t blind either, you noticed him. How attractive he was. How he stood so tall you had to bend your head back just to look at him, how his brown hair would always seem to fall perfectly to frame that sharp jaw of his. The jaw that would clench when you (purposely) really got on his nerves. And his body… my god. He was so buff, so big.

Really makes a girl wonder.

Today you were in the motel room with him alone, he was working out. You could’ve sworn he was doing it on purpose, every time he’d catch you staring he’d smirk. He was like a bird shaking its feathers to attract a mate, and it was definitely working.

Once he’d done with his over sexual workout (there was no need for all the grunts he did), he stood up and walked over to where you were sat at the table, ‘researching’.

“Can i help you?” You said looking up at him, trying to hide the fact you wanted to claw the fuck out of that beautiful skin of his.

He smirked, looking down at you. “I dunno, can you?” his tone was almost suggestive, almost because honestly everytime he spoke to you it sounded slightly sultry.

Your breathing picked up a little, your heart starting to pound a little faster in your chest. But you composed yourself, rolling your eyes and tapping your pen as you waited for an answer. He huffed a scoff out, still smirking.

“Can you pass me that towel?” He said pointing at the back of your chair.

You turned around and saw a blue, worn towel hanging over the back of your chair. Now it was your time to have some fun. You turned around and smirked.

“What’s the magic word?” earned you a eye roll.

“Please, can you pass me that towel?” his tone almost mocking, his smirk had faded a little now.

“Nope. that ain’t that magic word, Sammy.” you were finding this too amusing alreadly. You knew he hated you calling him Sammy, which is exactly why you always did it.

His jaw clenched and your heart skipped a beat.

“It’s Sam.” he began “Quit being a dick, pass me my towel.” his patience was running thin, and it was making your breathing pick up slightly. You laughed.

“What do i get if i give you it, Sammy.” you saw his fist clenching, god you loved making him mad. He was so sexy. He leaned forwards, both hands resting on the arms of your chair. His nose almost touching yours.

“What is it you want, sweetheart?” he’d call you that to piss you off, but right now it was turning you on. His skin was still glistening from the workout, his breathing still a little heavy from it too. You looked up at him, it’s like you’d forgotten how to speak. Which ofcourse, he found amusing.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” his eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment, causing him to rub his together.

Sam felt the same about you, you pissed him off beyond belief but there was just something about you that made him magnetic towards you. Maybe it was the way you kept him on his toes, challenging him at every opportunity you can. Or maybe it was because you were honestly beautiful, especially when your eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

You finally gained the breath to speak. “I don’t know.. what’s being offered?” you said quietly, your voice smooth as you spoke. You couldn’t ignore the tension between you both, he was practically pressed up again you. He leaned in a little more forward, causing your legs to open more.

“Oh i think you know exactly what’s on offer… and you’ve known for a very long time. Haven’t you?” he said barely above a whisper, his voice was so deep and seductive.

You were lost for words, barely able to breathe from how heavy the tension was and how close he was to you.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time… can i have my towel?” it’s almost like he was asking for your consent, if you give it to him then it means you don’t want to cross that line- the sensible decision. But if you don’t? Well… it’d be a fun and rememberable night.

You shook your head softly, a small smirk on your face. He smirked back, pleased with your answer. He then, with no hesitation, pulled you from the chair and picked you up. His hands gripping your ass.

You wrapped your legs around him and put your hands on the back of his neck, kissing him almost aggressively. You both had alot of pent up emotions about eachother. You moaned into the kiss as he shoved his tongue down your throat, almost choking you with how intense he was being. But you loved it, every second of it.

He carried you over to the bed, placing you down in the middle of the mattress. He pulled away from the kiss as he got ontop of you, looking down at you. Both panting against each others lips.

Sam smirked, running his hand down your body. “You have no idea what i wanna do to you… how i want to make you scream.”

“Well don’t give a girl false hope, Sammy.” you replied back, keeping the banter up. Hoping that calling him Sammy would rile him up even more- which it did.

He leaned in and slammed his lips against yours again, fiddling with your jeans before sliding them off your legs. He then pulled your shirt off, now you only had a bra and panties on. He scanned your body, you looked so beautiful like this. Under him breathing heavily, he’d imagined it countless of times but seeing it in person? God it was unbelievable.

He leaned down and pressed kisses along your breasts, kissing down the lace material and then down your body. His eyes not leaving yours as he finally made his way to where you were soaked for him. He could see it through the panties, the wet patch. He smirked.

“Poor girl…” he said teasingly. You groaned softly.

“Sam shut up.” your breathing was getting heavier by the minute, feeling his breath against you was unreal.

He chuckled lowly. “Hey.. no need to get cocky, i’ll take care of you, beautiful.” god that name made you even wetter.

He teased you through your panties, watching as you squirmed under the small touches. Trying to find something- anything to hold onto. He loved it, loved how quickly he’d been able to break you down. He then pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clit. Causing your body to arched and a small moan come from you.

“Ffuck..” you gasped out softly, looking down at him as he continued to kiss you there. One of your hands moved down to grip his hair as you grinded against his movements.

Sam found it all too amusing, one of his hands was cupping himself in his jeans. Needing to feel some sort of relief. He then put his head up. “God you taste amazing… so fucking good.” he said breathlessly, you couldn’t help but smirk at it. Biting your lip in amusement.

He spread your legs a little further before teasing your entrance with a finger and then pushing it inside you. Your back arched and you moaned his name out.

He then added another finger. Pumping them in and out of you.

“I- i still ha- ah- hate you..” you moaned softly.

“Yeah? You keep telling yourself that, baby.” he said adding a third finger, stretching you out.

He was hitting that spot perfectly each time, he knew exactly what he was doing and fuck it felt so good. He then leaned down to drag his tongue along your slit, it was beginning to be too much- so good though.

“S-sa-ah- samm-“ you moaned out, barely being able to speak. But he didn’t stop, he looked up at you, seeing how your legs were shaking and closings round him. He was gonna do this until you came, he needed to taste you. His moments went quicker, more purposeful. He was going to send you over the edge.

As he continued you felt your body tense, your breathing turning into harsh pants until finally.

You finished.

A loud scream of his name coming from your mouth as your load went on the bed and made lips and chin glisten. He pulled his fingers out, wiping his face and licking the excess off. He then kissed his way back up your body, looking down at you with that shit eating smirk.

“Still hate me?” he said teasingly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You looked up at him and let a huff of laughter out, still breathless. “Yeah… so much.” but you didn’t. Not as much anymore.

You both just lay there, the only noise in the room was your breathing slowing down. He was looking at you different, like he’d actually seen you. He leaned down and put a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Maybe if you weren’t so bitchy earlier about my towel… i’d have gone and got it to clean you up.” he said teasingly, causing you to burst out with laughter.

“You just had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?!”

Your laugh was infectious, it made any room lighter. He mocked offence.

“How dare you!”

The room was now filled with you two teasing and joking around with eachother.

You had a feeling this would be the start of something really special.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

UGH i love sassy sam.

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 12

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Mentions of suicide

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Epilogue

Laying on the couch with a bowl of popcorn on your belly, you absentmindedly put a handful into your mouth.

An old cartoon movie playing on the Tv in front of you, it was nostalgic but you were only partly paying attention.

Your little girl was currently dancing the samba inside your tummy. Her little head pressed up firmly into your right side of your ribs.

Reaching down you could lay a hand over the pressure and feel the hard little curve of her head.

She was quite insistent on making her presence known.

Maybe it was to comfort you.

Her little movements made the bowl on your tummy wiggle up and down, like it was laying on jello instead of your firm belly.

Wondering about names, you briefly thought about naming her Apple as a joke. But no, you’re not a celebrity and while her dad may like apples, she didn’t need to be saddled with a name based off an obsession with food.

Ah well, you’d come up with something. Your stomach grumbled despite you shoveling popcorn into your mouth.

It wasn’t especially filling but the baby made you feel so hungry despite popcorn starting to fill your stomach.

Wandering into the kitchen, you scanned the fridge for leftovers. Oh there, there’s some leftover chicken. Dumping it into a pan to warm it up, you set it on the stove and wait impatiently.

The smell started to fill the house and made your mouth water with anticipation. God, you were so hungry you could eat a whole cow.

You’d think that a baby so small still, wouldn’t cause hunger like this.

Arms came up behind you, wrapping around your belly. A sleepy head laid onto your shoulder, breath hot against your skin.

A low voice next to your ear

“You could’ve gotten me up, I would’ve made you something.”

“You’re still recovering, besides we have leftovers so I’m not exactly exerting myself too much here.”

“I thought I was supposed to be your personal assistant for the rest of your pregnancy.”

“That was before your heart stopped and you refused to come back for a while. You took two days to wake up Caleb. That doesn’t exactly make me want to ask you to hop to it and make food for me.”

Yes, Caleb was stubborn even in death it seems as it took 10 minutes for his heartbeat to come back.

Maybe he subconsciously thought that you would be ok without him, maybe you screaming at him after coming to your senses to come back or you’d beat his ass, helped him come back to the light.

It took another two days for Caleb to regain consciousness. You had nearly strangled him for doing it to you once again but the sight of him finally awake with a sleepy smile, had just sent you, tears and all, into his arms.

He had only been awake for a day and he was still recovering. The nano probes seemed to be hard at work as Caleb had reported to Sylus that it no longer felt like ants beneath his skin.

You had caught them nerding out together over his arm just a few hours ago over a video call.

They had been talking all morning and it made you feel lonely…

**

“So you have a bird that you built yourself?”

“Yes, I’m quite proud of him. I named him Mephisto and he’s quite a beauty. I only wish that he wasn’t so sensitive to water. I’ve tried to tweak him but the solution still eludes me.”

“He looks magnificent. I’d love to help you with him, you’ve already helped so much with my arm. It’d be a way to pay you back!”

You watched from the doorway as the boys gushed over technical stuff that flew over your head a bit.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you’d never think that Caleb had basically hated him not too long ago.

They sounded like long time friends.

**

“Hey, what are you thinking about?”

“Just thinking about when you wanted to set up your next play date with your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?”

You blink innocently at him

“Yes, your boyfriend. You two spent all morning talking, it seems a shame that we should keep you two apart.”

“Oh for- he’s not my boyfriend! I was just giving him an update on the progress on my arm.”

“Uhuh, for three hours. ‘Oh Sylus! I’d love to help your with your bird! You’re so smart! Thank you for all your help, you’re my savior!’ Don’t worry, I’ll set up a play date for you two boys soon.”

“Really? You’re going to regret that!”

You pretend to think with a finger on your chin

“Mmmm, no I don’t think I will.” Laughing as you plated your chicken and tried to move towards the table.

A hand takes the plate from you, placing it on the counter.

Lips meet yours in a flurry. Sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, his hands coming around your back and your head. His thumb drawing small circles on your bare skin left by your shirt riding up.

This quiet intimacy was one of the many things you had missed while he was gone all those months.

Pulling away to rest your foreheads against the other, breathing each other in.

“I thought this was supposed to be a punishment?”

“Do you want it to be? Cause I can take things to the bedroom.”

“Mmm maybe when you can prove to me that you’re all better.”

His hand slides down to cup your backside

“Oh I can prove that just fine.”

Rolling your eyes, you push his face away and turn to your food.

“I’d rather eat.”

“Rude.”

“Who got me pregnant?”

“Point taken.”

Sitting down at the table, you start to devour your chicken with zeal.

“Actually, I was thinking of going to scout out Ever’s Headquarters here in Skyhaven.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for that? Seems a bit soon.”

Coming over to stand behind you, he puts his hands on your shoulders, large enough to reach down to your breasts. His hands began to massage you and you almost melt against the table.

This was playing dirty to get you to be putty in his hands.

“I’m not going to actually kill him yet. I just want to go take a look, see where the best place would be. I have an idea of what I will most likely do but I need to double check.”

Looking at him with suspicion in your eyes, the emotion coming through in your voice

“That’s what happened the last time you went out, it can’t be a spur of the moment thing. This guy is the head of a big company and we can’t take it lightly.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“I’m choosing to trust you.”

Caleb comes down and kisses your cheek, smoothing your hair down.

“I promise your trust isn’t misplaced.”

**

Caleb looks up at the building with trepidation. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he wasn’t going to do anything today besides do some scouting.

He hadn’t told her yet but his brain felt a bit like mush. Like he had received a concussion which made sense since he did receive some amount of damage to his brain.

Caleb hadn’t realized how much that chip was affecting him. He felt so light and all of his emotions didn’t have to be tamped down.

Anger, joy, sadness, all of it was there at the tips of his fingers.

That chip had really made his worst qualities come out into full force.

Hopefully it would let him make this plan with a clear head.

With his brain feeling like mush, his Evol felt weaker for the moment.

That was worrying but he’d give himself some grace.

Okay, it was showtime.

With his uniform in place, the blank mask on his face, he made his way up to the secret top floor.

No one paid him any mind but his brain kept whispering that everyone knew. They could tell that he was a dog unleashed and that they would try and get him back under their thumb once again.

Taking a subtle breath, he gets his anxieties under control.

The head of Ever wasn’t always on the premises but with the Professor dead. The man in charge was here to take care of part of the void left behind.

Caleb had an idea of what he wanted to do when it came to assassinating him but he’d need access to that man’s office first.

Well, that’s when an opportunity presented itself.

“Hello, Caleb. Fancy sssseeing you here.”

“Hello, Viper.”

“Wow, I’m sssurprised you haven’t attacked me yet.”

Caleb twists the other man’s hand behind his back in response.

“Uncle, uncle!”

Such drama, his evol is weak right now. He lets Viper go with a flourish.

“Now, what a way to greet me. After I came here to tell you that the big man wantssss to talk to you.”

“Thanks ever so much.” Sarcasm coming from his tongue with a heavy tinge. As Caleb walks away, the other man calls out to him.

“There’ss sssomething different about you.”

He did not need this, he needs to bring Viper to his side somehow before he blabs his mouth.

Viper loves to call him his friend but really he just appreciates the strong.

“Do you think that I’m strong, Viper? Who will you choose to follow in the end, I wonder?”

Leaving him alone to think on that, he heads to the head of the company's office.

Caleb stands in front of the large desk with his hands folded behind his back.

It was always dark in this office, the only light coming from the doors leading to the balcony.

The building was quite high so it left this impression of a billionaire looking down on the rest of the world from his solitary dark room.

The other man sat in front of him, his hands folded in front of him on the desk

The two regarded each other with vague interest, waiting for the other to break the odd silence.

A battle of who will give first.

Caleb has a lot of patience in this department, he’d stand here all day. This was all for her sake after all.

Standing there, he surveyed the room for anything he could use.

An alcohol cart in the corner, self help books and poets like Samuel Beckett and John Keats on the bookshelf, the way the room is always kept dark, energy boosting drinks, the way the room seems to feel so bleak.

An idea had already been formed in his head but what he had collected so far just helped it along.

Yes, this would do nicely.

He had promised not to do it today, he’d go home and wait for another day but taking the time to survey was worth it.

The man in front of him broke first

“Colonel Caleb, we don’t usually talk in person, one on one like this, do we?”

“No, sir.”

“I’m glad to hear that you returned from that deep space mission alive and in one piece. The Professor seemed quite distressed about the whole ordeal.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I seem to remember that the day of his demise also coincided with his check up on you. The time of his death happening almost not an hour after you left.”

“It was unfortunate, sir.”

“Mmm, yes.” As if the death didn’t really bother him, but Caleb caught the tightening of the other man’s fingers on the chair he was in.

“It has left me with quite the predicament. No one left as capable as he was, to head the Fountain of Atei project. We frequently send you out to keep our dogs in line and it puts your life on the line.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It honestly leaves me with so few options that it brings me back to a plan that we had kept on the back burner. You know the one that I’m referring to?”

Caleb tells himself not to react, this man wants to see him break, show a feeling.

“Yes, sir.” Keeping calm was like keeping a lid on a boiling pot.

“Mmm, I suppose you do. Well, I’ll be putting together a game plan to bring in our new asset. It will need a new team to bring it under control. Which is where you’ll come in, you were manufactured as a pair after all. Your sole purpose was to keep it under our control.”

“Yes, sir.” Murdering this man would never be able to sate his lust for bringing these arrogant bastards to heel. They think they can just walk over everyone in this world, modify humans, control wanderers, play the chess board so that they alone come out on top.

It was sickening.

“That was all I had to say to you, you can leave now.”

“Sir.” Caleb turns to leave and is stopped at the door.

“Good to have you back… Caleb.”

It sends an eerie shiver down his spine. Not gracing this man with an answer, he leaves without a word.

**

Coming home, he feels exhausted. Putting on a front, for work and for his love was draining.

It must not be enough because she notices how he really feels in an instant.

“Bed, now.”

Caleb doesn’t have the energy to argue and goes to sleep instantly.

The next day, he’s talking with Sylus once more and goes over his preliminary plan with him.

“May I ask why you’re going over this with me and not her?”

“She tends to want me to put my safety as the utmost priority when she is. I want to do this, this way because it’s fast and efficient. It will save her. I told you what they want to do with her. Can I trust you to help me?”

The unspoken words being, can I trust you to help me which is really about helping her.

They each knew the other's feelings towards her, it wasn’t a topic up for discussion but they could trust the other when it came to protecting her.

“Yes.”

So the plan began, Caleb gave a rough outline to her but kept the finer details to himself.

If this went downhill, she needed plausible deniability if they decided to question her.

Caleb waited at a corner store on the street below the balcony of the building containing Ever’s headquarters.

The very balcony of the office he had visited a few days ago.

This is where Sylus came in, sending Mephisto in to do surveillance and relay information to Caleb.

They need to wait for the right moment, their target needs to be on the balcony alone.

He had been sitting here for an hour, looking unbothered with a book in hand and a coffee on the table in front of him.

It had taken some convincing to let her let him out on his own for leisure for so long, but having Sylus come along convinced her.

Not that Sylus was physically present, but she didn’t need to know that fact.

“Target in sight.”

Showtime

Caleb gave no indication of being bothered, the only signal being a nod of his head as if agreeing with what he was reading.

A small pad nestled in the pages of his books gave him a view of what Mephisto was seeing now that the target was in view.

The man was watering a plant, how quaint.

“Beginning now.”

Slight red energy creeping around the target’s legs, manipulating them so that the man walked haltingly and unwillingly to the edge of the balcony. Coming up to the man’s waist but it was no matter for Sylus.

“In position.”

The man pulled himself up onto the railing, standing with uneven balance. The energy just barely showing through Mephisto’s eyes, manipulating the man’s body. Caleb’s power pinching the man’s mouth and paralyzing his tongue over the distance, seen only through the screen.

“Now.”

The energy lets go, the man falling forward, no longer being held up.

The fall was not fast enough for Caleb, wanting the man to suffer and make sure that the fall really killed their target.

Placing gravitational pressure on the falling man’s back, speeding his process, already starting to crush his bones. Keeping his tongue paralyzed, so no one noticed the man falling yet.

The illusion that it was this man’s choice being supported as he didn’t make any noise, as if he accepted his fate.

The man hit the ground with a small splat and boom. Concrete cracking and blood blooming, like a flower of hope for a new world.

All happening across the street from the corner store that Caleb was at.

“Confirming no vital signs.”

That was all he needed to hear, getting up and gathering his stuff unbothered. The sounds of a siren in the distance, the crowd gathering around the fallen body, it was as if none of it existed to Caleb.

Tasking the clean up and crushing of Ever to Sylus. Recruiting Viper to help take it down from the inside as it was no longer the all powerful cooperation that he had been interested in, in the beginning.

It was all over on Caleb’s part.

He was finally free and so was she.

Only one more part and it’s the epilogue!

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08

@xaviers-pookie-bear @tsunamethyst @thejujvtsupost @cherrybeomgyu

@gojosballsack69 @apple-lov3r @dinochocochip @violetpurplez @raiyuxa @nickibunny23 @sh3sa1dwhat @playboygeniusphilanthropist @flwerie @lynnlovesthestars @twilightsmissingfur

@kasuumi @i-messed-up-big-time @mcdepressed290 @mc-cos-charm @needsleep3000

[kineticallyanywhere]

Hunter (toh) is so much. he's a genuine prodigy. by the standards of the world he's disabled. he's snarky. he's kind. he will threaten you. if you call him names he gets sad. he's a nerd. he can kick your ass with his bare hands. he thinks a bandaid belongs in a formal sewing job. he can scale a two story building. he's loyal to his boss. he's breaking rules constantly. he's a clone. his species is extinct. he's a child soldier. he cosplays. he willingly changed sides. he thinks being dropped off on a mountain and expected to survive to the bottom is reasonable and enjoyable skill testing. he wants to be a craftsman. he was created as the replacement for a man that his creator murdered himself and spent his childhood gaslit into hanging on his creator's every lie only to have the rug violently pulled out from under him and he has to spend the majority of his initial adjustment time on an alien world with little hope of return and also he gets possessed. he tells his pet bird he loves him. he's part of the main cast. the school principal has more episodes than he does

[bat-gwuck]

Okay so this is my entry for @drizzledrawings competition!! Get ready for a whole ass fucking wall of text…whoopsie!!

anyway drizzle i love u and ur cowbians they me goofy-grin-on-my-face-kicking-my-feet happy — u and ur art are such an inspiration mwah!!

—

I present to you my entry: Adelaide Forsythe – a travelling scholar and astronomer who’s shifter form is a magpie!

So, starting off with the animal choice. I chose a magpie for two reasons: one, I’m a bird nerd and two, I felt like the symbolism attached to magpies really fit her character??

As a member of the Corvidae family, Magpies are known for being quite intelligent, as well as having a love for shiny objects (get it, get it, she’s a scholar and she loves stars which are SHINY…I’m so smart guys)

BUT BUT BUT there’s a lot of folklore attached to them which I thought was also fitting – my Mum is like *really* superstitious and growing up she always had me salute magpies and you had to ask how its “wife” was doing if it was on its own bc (apparently) if you didn’t you’d be inviting bad luck – there’s a little song/poem that goes “one for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told” so the idea is that if you see a lone magpie its an ill omen so you salute it n stuff to ward all that away bc you don’t have to salute a pair of magpies

Or maybe its just smth my Mum does idk BUT ANYWAY

I thought I could play with this a little bc in some cultures magpies are acc seen as signs of good luck and fortune, which brings me to Adelaide: she is an academic in an untamed land, an outsider among both frontier folk and the scholars who dismissed her, she longs for scientific recognition, yet finds freedom outside of its rigid institutions, she is a woman in a world that has no clear place for her—too independent for England’s high society and yet too refined for the lawless frontier. Like the magpie, she adapts, moving in a space that both welcomes and rejects her.

THEN, you have the “seven for a secret never to be told” which I felt was fitting for a shifter who doesn’t want to be found out AND THEN the “three for a girl, four for a boy” fit a bit as well, as she often poses as a man to further her academic pursuits (bit a stretch, maybe?? but idc im rolling with it)

In addition, magpies were almost hunted to extinction because people were so afraid of them, which I felt also fit with her place as not just a woman, but a woman in academia AND a shifter who’s trying her best not to get found out and skinned or smth. They’re ALSO associated with witchcraft, which fits too!!

Anyway enough about magpies, onto the actual character lmao.

—

Adelaide’s defining trait is her insatiable curiosity. She is a woman who cannot look at the night sky without wondering what lies beyond it, who cannot hear a folk tale without questioning its origins, who cannot witness an injustice without demanding to know why the world is the way it is. She does not simply observe the world—she dissects it. Whether it’s the trajectory of a comet or the migration of birds, she sees patterns and logic in everything. Even when confronted with superstition, she doesn’t scoff outright—she analyzes, compares, and tries to understand why people believe what they do.

She does not downplay her knowledge for the comfort of others. When a man tries to explain something she already knows, she listens politely for about ten seconds before cutting him off with a far more detailed explanation. Her sharp tongue has made her enemies in both academic circles and the rugged frontier. She is rather exacting in her speech, rarely mincing her words. She dislikes vague statements, preferring specificity in all things. When others say "a bright star," she responds with, "Do you mean Sirius, Betelgeuse, or Vega?" This can make her seem arrogant, though in truth, she simply values accuracy. Besides, if anyone has earnt the right to be a bit arrogant, Adelaide would say it’s her.

Yet, for all her logic, there is an undercurrent of childlike wonder beneath her nose-stuck-in-a-book personality. The moment she gazes through her telescope, or rides the wind bathed in starlight, all pretense falls away, and she becomes a child staring at the heavens for the first time again.

Adelaide has always been an outsider, whether in Oxford’s elite intellectual circles or the rugged towns of the West. She does not belong to any one world, and she has long since given up trying to fit in. While she values solitude, there is a quiet ache of loneliness beneath her independence. She spends many nights staring at the sky, comforted by its constancy, yet knowing that the stars cannot speak back to her. In Oxford, she was too bold, too opinionated, too unwilling to be a wife first and a scholar second. In the West, she is too refined, too intellectual, too ignorant of the ways of outlaws and bounty hunters. She is always “too much” or “not enough” for the world around her.

Adelaide does not easily trust others, not just because of her “little secret”. She has met too many people who have either underestimated her or tried to use her intelligence for their own gain. When she does form connections, she values them deeply, though she often struggles to express this in words. Instead, she shows her care through small, practical gestures. Yet, despite her walls, there are moments—rare but profound—when someone earns her trust, and the walls crack just enough for light to slip through.

She keeps meticulous journals filled with astronomical calculations, weather patterns, and folk stories she gathers from the people she meets. Her saddlebags are filled with star charts, old books, and curious trinkets.

Once she sets her mind to something, she will not be dissuaded. If someone tells her a mountain is impossible to climb, she will reach the peak just to prove them wrong. It is both her greatest strength and her biggest flaw.

She has little patience for those who exploit others, whether it be a professor stealing credit for a woman’s discovery or a wealthy rancher cheating his workers. She does not take kindly to men who assume they can buy her loyalty or silence.

Though she claims she prefers to stay out of trouble, she has a habit of stepping in when someone is being mistreated. She does not pick fights often, but when she does, her words cut deeper than bullets. Adelaide does not resort to violence unless absolutely necessary, but she will ruin a man’s reputation, expose a fraud, or leave damning evidence where the right people can find it. She believes in the long game – vengeance is best served cold, calculated, and with irrefutable proof. She did learn some things from her upper class upbringing, after all.

Beneath her sharp intellect and hardened exterior, Adelaide has a deeply buried, fragile softness – one she rarely allows herself to indulge. She denies being sentimental, yet she cannot help but stop to admire a field of wildflowers or the way the Milky Way stretches across the sky. She has a poetic way of describing the cosmos, though she would never call herself a poet. Though she claims she does not care for fame, a small part of her fears that when she is gone, her work will be erased, her name lost. She has spent her life chasing knowledge, but in the quietest moments, she often wonders if anyone will remember her.

—

Born in 1871 in Oxford, England, Adelaide Forsythe was the only child of Dr. Reginald Forsythe, a respected academic who specialised in mathematics and astronomy, and Margaret Forsythe, a woman of high social standing whose primary concern was ensuring her daughter’s successful integration into elite society. While Margaret sought to mold Adelaide into a proper young lady—one who would marry well and host extravagant dinner parties—Reginald saw his daughter’s keen mind and indulged her curiosity, albeit discreetly.

The Forsythe line carried old magic, ancient and restless, passed down in blood and bone. It was not the magic of spells or incantations, but of transformation—of slipping between forms, of becoming something other, something free.

Adelaide had been standing on the balcony of their estate, staring up at the night sky, when a sudden pull overtook her. Her skin burned, her bones ached, and before she could cry out, the world tilted. The next thing she knew, she was plummeting through the air — not falling, but flying. Tiny wings beat frantically as instinct overrode panic, and she soared above the rooftops, free in a way she had never known before.

And then she crashed, hard, into a chimney stack and tumbled ungracefully to the ground.

Her mother found her shivering in the garden at dawn. There were no screams, no hysteria — only a cold stare, a tight grip on Adelaide’s wrist, and a warning whispered with more force than any slap:

"You will never do that again. Do you understand me?"

Frightened by her parent’s stories of torture, death and other such things, Adelaide was keen to agree with her mother.

But nature does not forget so easily.

—

As a young girl, Adelaide would sneak into her father’s study late at night, pouring over his scientific texts by candlelight. The first time she glimpsed Saturn’s rings through a telescope at the age of ten, she was transfixed. The chaos and expectations of human society seemed so small compared to the great, unending vastness that was the universe. She devoured every book she could find, often pestering her father’s academic colleagues with endless questions during social gatherings.

Her precocious nature made her an outlier among other girls her age. She had no interest in embroidery, courtship, or fashionable gossip. When she was fifteen, her mother caught her sneaking into her father’s lectures disguised in her brother’s old coat and hat. Furious and humiliated, Margaret demanded her father put an end to her academic pursuits, fearing that no reputable man would ever marry a woman who thought herself equal to scholars. But Reginald, torn between duty to his wife and pride in his daughter’s intellect, found a compromise — he arranged private lessons with an old friend, Professor William Crenshaw, one of the foremost astronomers of the era.

By the age of twenty, Adelaide was unofficially assisting at a local observatory, analyzing star catalogs, observing planetary movements, and even drafting papers under her brother’s name (Adam, who had wholeheartedly agreed to the plan) to bypass gender restrictions in scientific publishing. She developed a reputation for being fiercely intelligent but also unyielding, unwilling to temper her opinions for the comfort of her male peers.

Her greatest challenge, however, was not the task of unravelling the mysteries of the universe but the narrow minds of her peers. While some admired her brilliance, others saw her presence as a scandalous threat. When a comet she helped chart was credited to a male assistant instead of her, Adelaide protested openly. “If a woman’s eyes can see as far as a man’s, then her name should reach just as far,” she argued. Her defiance earned her both admiration and ire.

In 1891, her growing reputation secured her an invitation to travel westward to Lemoyne to observe a rare solar eclipse. This would be her first real taste of life beyond the confines of academia and upper class English society.

Lemoyne was unlike anything Adelaide had ever known—rugged, lawless, and ungoverned by the rigid structures she was so used to back home. The journey was treacherous; the expedition was plagued by broken equipment, aggressive wildlife, and even an attempted robbery by outlaws. Adelaide, having never fired a gun in her life, was nearly helpless, relying on the protection of local guides and her quick wit to survive.

Despite the hardships, she made her way to the observation site and witnessed the total eclipse—a perfect black void swallowing the sun, a fleeting moment of cosmic wonder. As she gazed at the event through her telescope, surrounded by untamed wilderness instead of university halls, something within her shifted. The American West was a world of mystery and discovery in its own right, she thought.

When she returned to England, she found herself restless. The constraints of her life now felt suffocating.

It was misfortune that eventually spurred her onwards. During a risky midnight flight, Adelaide had injured her wing, and as such, was stuck in her form for a while. A colleague of hers had found her near the University and had taken it upon himself to care for her — much to her horror, and her gratitude. Adelaide had hoped to escape before he found out but it was not to be. Upon finding not a freshly healed magpie, but a grown woman in his kitchen, the man understandably freaked out. He threatened to expose her secret — stating that she was to step down from her post if she wanted to (quite literally) save her skin.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Adelaide set out for the Americas once again — this time alone. With nothing but a collapsible brass telescope, a collection of notebooks, and a revolver she barely knew how to use, she sailed westward, determined to document the night sky from places few had ever studied before.

She traveled from town to town, funding her journey by selling star charts, lecturing at any schools that would take her (which were few and far between), as well as a sizeable fund from her father, who had helped her flee. She often sought out high ground, camping alone in the mountains or vast plains, sketching the heavens by firelight.

But the frontier was dangerous, and a woman traveling alone is easy prey, especially one of “her kind”. She learned to navigate both the celestial sphere and the lawless lands beneath it. She bribed hunters to look the other way, outwitted charlatans who sought to take advantage of her, and, after a close brush with a gang of highwaymen in New Austin, reluctantly learned how to use her revolver. Though not a natural fighter, she became adept at using her intellect to survive, talking her way out of most trouble before bullets were needed.

By 1899, the world was changing. The frontier was vanishing, swallowed by railroads and industry. Scientific institutions back east were growing in prestige, but still refused to fully recognize women.

Eleanor found herself caught between multiple worlds — too independent for the constraints of academia, too refined for the lawless plains of the West and too wild, too different for all of them.

She had spent years mapping the stars, but her greatest challenge remained: carving out a place where she, and her work, could live and be remembered.

She would never be a wife waiting at home, nor a delicate lady confined to parlors and polite conversation. Nor would she be held down and restrained because of the blood that ran through her veins.

She was a scholar, an explorer, a collector of knowledge and forgotten stories. A woman with a revolver in one hand and a telescope in the other, chasing the stars and riding the wind before the West faded into memory.

Because the world will change, the frontier will disappear, and one day, even the names of its greatest outlaws will be forgotten.

But the stars will remain. And so will she.

Either way, Adelaide would continue to look skyward, seeking answers in the infinite dark.

—

Okay so that’s the end (so far)!! Hope you enjoyed!! I might expand on her and give her some friends (maybe even a girlfriend…heh) later but idk??

P.S. Adelaide would def be besties with that palaeontologist you meet who gives you that dino bone quest

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

Roommate!Johnny x Reader

Title: Pineapple

Synopsis: It's highschoolish, but you call Johnny pineapple... Until he finds out, of course.

Warnings: this is fluff and shit.

AN: This has sat in my drafts for five-ever.

"You sound like a highschooler!" Your best friend laughs, a grin on her face. She shakes her head a little, "I mean... Pineapple? Really?"

You roll your eyes--of course it sounds stupid but he's *always* around, he CONSTANTLY has the possibility of overhearing if you say his name.

"You *know* why it's pineapple, though. Because I can't let *him* hear, and he's always bloody around an-"

"Mornin' bonnie, Bonnie's friends," Johnny--or pineapple, or the jock of your dreams (regardless of the fact that you're not even in highschool and didn't even go to highschool with him) if you wanted to be honest--cuts in, "Sorry to interrupt, are ya all stayin' in todey or no?"

You look up at Johnny and your face flushes like you're a little nerd and just saw the captain of the Varsity football team shirtless. You stammer out a, "Stayin' in."

You turn over to your best friend who is *cackling*, and all she says is "Pineapple it is."

Cut to two months later and you're still calling Johnny "Pineapple." Even *he* jokes about learning the identity of pineapple, ironically enough.

You're at the grocery store and you spot your best friend, you have Johnny on the phone, telling you what he needs and you set your phone down against your shoulder.

"Hey!" You say excitedly, and your best friend hugs you. You laugh together.

That is, until she asks, "Do we still have to say pineapple if Johnny isn't around?" Loud enough that Johnny could hear.

Your eyes widen and before you can squeak out an answer she crosses her arms, "I mean... It *is* about time you tell him you fancy him. He's not gonna reject you, you know."

Your jaw goes slack and Johnny falls silent. You hang the phone up quickly and explain to your best friend what just happened, and all she does is shrug and say, "'Bout time."

You get home and you're putting groceries away when Johnny appears in the doorframe, looking smug.

"So.. pineapple, huh?"

"Shut up, Johnny," you respond, setting the eggs down on the counter and putting the milk in the fridge.

He frowns, "What? Didnae think I'd find ou'? Really shoulda sooner..." He has that stupid smirk, the one you love, the one that makes you laugh. But right now? It only makes you want to cry.

"Just shut up and ignore it!" You respond, glaring daggers into him, "I *don't care* what your response is, I have no desire to know!"

His face falls slightly, "Bonnie... Ya think I'm gonnae reject ya?"

You look even more annoyed at that, "O-obviously! You're a bloody bomb tech, and a Sergeant. You're so strong you could pick any bird you see up! You're fuckin' smart, and you're a handsome bloke and it's *bollocks* to think otherwise!" You shout at him, before going back to packing away groceries.

"So just.. ignore it, and ignore *me,*" you add on quieter, the resign in your voice stronger than Johnny has *ever* seen.

"Bonnie... I'm not rejectin' ya. You're no' thinkin' straight if ya think I am."

Your eyes dart to his, "Don't toy with me, Johnny."

He shakes his head, "'M no'! You're pretty, an' my type. I'd very *much* like it if ya stopped actin' like I would never, when I *very much do.*"

Your face falls, "Y-you *are* serious.." you mumble out, standing up from the refrigeratour. He approaches you, hands going to your hips. Your face gets all splotchy--less pineapple, more.. tomato?

He nods, grinning that cocky little grin, "I do, yeah. Gonna keep telling me I don', bonnie?" His thumbs rub at your hips, he leans in a little, "you're feckin' daft if ye think ot'erwise."

He closes the distance and you let out a little gasp as he plants a gentle peck on your lips. He pulls back and lets go, "Tha's *much* better. Now go finish the groceries and we'll watch our show, yeah?"

You nod, speechless, walking off, Johnny giving your ass a little tap as you go back to putting groceries away.

[valentine-cafe]

Y'all know I can never have enough of Rishen 781. He's so cute and slutty and it makes me want to be mean to him <3 Why not slide a remote controlled vibe into them and take a walk around town? See how long Rishen can last under the pointed shifts in intensity before their legs are shaking and he has to bury his face into his partner's shoulder to hide how red he's getting. Of course his partner will only shove him over the edge when they have a good amount of privacy, don't want to damage that reputation, after all <3

˖⁺. ﹙ bttm preppy hybrid nerd bf x top gn reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . quiet, pretty boy !! 🍒 :  moth-spider-mantis hybrid ˖ hero ˖ preppy nerd character﹙verse 781 rishen. ﹚

 you just loovveee messing with your cute, slutty boyfriend out in public - he gives the best reactions! | cw: public sex ˖ use of vibrator

𖹭. ps : anon I love you and all your rishen 781 asks - please be mean to him <3

rishen dressed up so prettily today. you couldn’t help but want to be a little mean to him when you saw how dolled up he was. with his pretty checkered black and red skirt. the vibrant red turtleneck and black stockings with those scarlet heels you love so much. . .

of course you just had to slip tat vibrator into his cute little hole before you both went out on the town. he’s always so pretty bent over the bed while you have a hand up his skirt. fingering him to prep him up for the toy. the way he moans at you -

“b-baby - babbyyy - ah,”

you make sure to redo his makeup for him when he’s back up. what a messy boy he can be at times.

walking around time was fine and dandy. he tried his hardest to keep himself in check. it was easy with the low vibrations at first. it felt like a comfortable - but pleasurable buzz that simply made him a bit giddy.

perfect for a sunny, breezy day! the two of you went out shopping. when he roamed over to a isolated isle to check out the clothing rack - you sped the vibrator up as he leaned over.

it was quite the amusing sight. seeing him bent over the clothing rack and trying his utmost hardest not to moan out. his thighs squeezing together and his skirt hiking up so that you saw a nice view of his stocking-covered ass.

it took everything within your core not to keep him bent over like that. stroke him off amongst the clothes until he’s whining at you. he always gets so quiet out in public - it’s cute listening to the way his voice whines and quivers.

alas, you gave him a break when he looked at you with those big, pleading maroon eyes. the both of you found your items and left. the setting’s back to normal and while he looks flustered - he’s back to his calm state.

throughout the day you’d continue this little trend. when he ordered the both of you mini donuts. at the movie theatre you’d both planned on going to. the park where you fed some birds -

all so you could see his pretty eyes tear up and hear your name whispered out on his tongue.

you both decide to end the day off with his favourite milkshake parlour. it had been some time since you’d been cruel to him — so his guard was down.

perfect.

he was so happy next to you. drinking up his strawberry milkshake and rambling to you about the week and his newest schematics.

poor thing. you decided to let him finish his milkshake at least three quarters before your devious fingers turned the setting up. to the highest - most violent -

oh the way that he limped into you. how his eyes widened and he just so managed to bury his face into your shoulder to muffle his noises and hide his face.

he was bucking against nothing! so you decided to give him your hand between his thighs. he was so precious with the way he whined at you.

“p-please - amor - come on,” he whines. you feel his hard cock underneath his skirt. throbbing in his thin stockings.

“fuck baby. so hard? been walking around like that all day?”

you’d give him a few subtle strokes. just to see him squirm about and whimper that you can’t do it here - not in the booth!

so the bathroom is your final destination. pushing him into one of the stalls and shoving him to the wall. simply watching the way his knees shake and he whines like a slut. manicured, red nails scratching and clinging onto your shirt as the vibrator keeps its course.

you’ll shove one of his legs up. push it over your shoulder and press up against him. yank his stockings down and grab at the end of the vibrator. so that you can fuck it into his tight, quivering ass. hard. fast. all so he can whine and cry out against your hand that clamps over his mouth.

“ssshhh baby - you gonna start sobbin’ here in the bathroom? want them to hear you?”

“m-mnn! mhhm! hngh -”

he stains his pretty skirt full of his sticky cum. your hand from his mouth drops to palm at his cock. crooning at one of the pulsing veins and stroking your thumb around it before you slip the vibrator out.

your fingers go at it. pounding him knuckle’s deep until his eyes are rolling back. his make-up smudged as he cries. drools all over his red lipstick. bucks into you as best his can.

“p-please - pleasepleaseplease-p-por fav- angh baby - c-cummin’ ag-aggaaiin-”

you’ll shush his spluttered chokes with a wet kiss to his lip. alternate between fucking his twitching hole and stroking his trembling cock. even throwing the vibrator in so that you can see him all limp and dumb against the wall.

anything for your pretty boy. he just loves when you’re mean after all.

[cielito--lindo]

hey! I don't know if you've read the MHA spin offs team up missions so I'll explain it a little more but a fic about reader being at a different school and being on a team up missions w. Katsuki and izuku and hawks, and her and kats are childhood friends and he gets jealous because shes laughing at izuku a lot would be so so cute! Only if you want to of course, I totally understand if not!

(in case you haven't read them team up missions are basically just them getting put with various heros and students from other schools to either complete a mission or do some team bonding etc. It could be like, they go shadow hawks for a day and just fight crime with him or under cover or pretty much anything you want!)

anon your mind is *chefs kiss*

all green with envy shiketsu!reader, jealous!katsuki, oblivious!izuku

"that son of a bitch cannot be that funny"

he wasn't jealous - he wasn't. he just hates that you happen to be paying more attention to shitty nerd than you were to him.

you were his childhood friend first, mind you. deku didn't come around until later.

and now he was stuck on this stupid fuckin' assignment with you and deku of all people because of some dumb ass "school bonding" shit.

his lip twitched as he heard another round of shushing and giggling.

"i swear to god if you two don't shut the fuck up, i'm calling hawks back to take a pigeon shit on the both of you." katuski growled

you tried to stifle your grin "kats, you do realize that he's not like an actual bird, right?"

"yeah, kacchan..wait-"

katsuki sighed with some sort of relief as izuku threw himself into his hero journal, writing god knows what.

that sigh quickly turned to dread as he felt you scoot closer to him - he hated the way you could just casually rest your head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

when you decided to enroll at shiketsu instead of UA, katsuki had felt almost...betrayed. you both had plans.

enroll in UA and open up the agency...maybe eventually get married

this is was the first time he'd seen you in years and you spent the majority of your time cooing over shitty deku instead of fawning over him like you used to.

fuck maybe he was jealous

"something on your mind, hero?" you murmured, playing with the seam of your hero gear.

"why don't you fuckin' ask deku or something.." katsuki grumbled in reply.

your fingers stopped as you slowly straightened up to face him "first of all, rude. second of all, who pissed in your all might o's this morning."

katsuki rolled his eyes "tsk-whatever. i just want this shit to be done with"

"aw, kats, didn't you miss me?"

those four words felt like a punch to the gut

of course he missed you - he despised how much he missed you

he hated how he would wait around for you to text him back or how devastated he felt when your weekly hangouts became less frequent.

he hates the pang in his chest when he hears you laugh at izuku's jokes or comments. he hates the feeling of losing you to him the most.

"fuck off" he chooses to say instead, pulling away from you and stalking across to the other side of the roof top.

you immediately go after him, you never knew how to let things go.

"what the fuck is your problem, hot head?" your eyes shining with determination "ever since we've been on this assignment you've been pissy."

katsuki felt his jaw tighten "you've been hanging around deku the whole fuckin time"

"hawks told me i needed help fine tuning my observation skills! he literally paired us together!" you tried to lower your voice, but katsuki was tap dancing on your last nerve.

"yeah, but you were mine first!"

oh. my. god.

"holy shit. holy shit, are you jealous?" you couldn't help the smile that spread over your face as you watched katsuki squirm. not even the night sky could hide the bright flush that appeared on his cheeks.

"what, no! jealous? over that shitty nerd? give me a fuckin' break." katsuki leaned against the rooftop ledge to try and muster up some nonchalance...it failed miserably.

"katsuki.."

he felt as you reached out and intertwined your fingers together; two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly.

"god, you're so dense sometimes." you let out a soft giggle "all the work i've been putting into flirting over the years and all it took was to laugh at Izuku's dumb puns?"

katuski couldn't bring himself to respond so he just squeezed your hand a little tighter.

"dinner?" squeeze "tomorrow?" squeeze.

"y/n!" izuku called out, beckoning you over.

you loosened your grasp and before katsuki could complain, he felt the soft brush of your lips on his cheek "duty calls, hero" you winked at him, before bounding back towards deku.

katsuki's body felt like jelly as he watched you hunch over deku's notebook "holy shit" he breathed out.

"hey, dynamight...you gotta learn how to turn off your comms, bud." hawk's voice crackled in his ear. "but congrats!"

"FUCK."

[thethirdtriplet]

Head cannon for the Batbros:

I firmly believe Jason refuses to refer to anyone he cares about with their names, and simply makes up obscene nicknames instead. Including but not limited to Tim, probably his favourite? (Y’know the “black sheep” duo), he’ll ask to hangout in the form of a threat, other times he just picks him up, throws him over his shoulder, and just leaves.

That’s just who he is it’s his love language.

And Tim is all too happy to indulge him.

——————————

Jason: Hey, nerd-bird, I need your help with something.

Tim: What now, douche-bat. Are one of your “goons” misbehaving, again?

Jason: Yeah, I need that PowerPoint you showed em’ last time, whatever was on it made em’ as a obedient as trained dogs.

Tim: That’s the wonderful power of slideshows, but yeah, I’ll sent it to you.

Dick: ???

——————————

Jason: Oi, smart-ass, I need your help on a case, some bastard had the bright idea to sell drugs to kids, and I wanna find out where he got em’.

Tim: Whatever, jackass, but you still owe me from last time, and I want your homemade tacos, as compensation.

Jason: Deal.

Bruce: ..?

——————————

Jason: Birdbrain, get changed and grab your sh!t, I’m headn’ to the movies, you’re coming wether you like it, or not.

Tim: Fine, you better not choose another chick flick, like last time, Zombie-boy.

Jason: You know I only did that to piss you off.

Tim: Right, whatever you say.

Steph: ??!

——————————

Everyone is doing their own thing in the cave:

Tim reading some files in the cave:

Jason walks up to Tim, plucks him from his chair, and just leaves:

Everyone who was watching Tim basically get kidnapped: …

Duke: ..Should we go get him?

Damian: Tt, I have no interest in per-suing them.

Cass: No, little brothers, bonding, leave them.

Everyone returns to their work, albeit some more reluctantly than others: