#My wallet was still in my pocket and my watch on my wrist when I got home

[trivialbob]

At the dog park this morning I bumped in to a couple. We talked for a bit. They seemed very familiar to me. I’m kicking myself now for not asking how I might know them, because it’s really bugging me now. They didn’t act like they knew me.

He’s about 10 years older than me. She’s older but not by that much. Neither one is unusual looking, but some minor things set them apart from other people. If you saw them separately you wouldn’t likely figure them as a couple.

They were super friendly. Some folks could have even thought too friendly. They got up my personal space. I didn’t find it off-putting, probably since I was thinking I might know them. Plus I knew I could easily defeat both of them in a fist fight!!!

The packed snow in the park is slippery. The woman was interested in my very helpful Yaktrax. As she asked me where I got them she leaned into get a closer look. I could have rested my chin on her shoulder. It didn’t bother me.

When I got home I described the couple to Sheila. “Bob, start with the dog! What kind of dog did they have?” It was one of the doodle varieties. Nowadays that breed doesn’t stand out from the crowd, so that didn’t help the description.

Sheila thought the couple sounded familiar too, thought she couldn’t figure it how we might know them either.

[gtgbabie0]

can i request a leon x reader, where leon takes polaroid pictures of reader and keeps some in him wallet. fluff or nsfw you pick 💕

Polaroids

{Leon keeps Polaroids of you}

This has been eating at my mind, I need him so bad!!

!18!

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Leon isn’t joking when he says he loves you from every and any angle, and he certainly wasn’t joking when he asks to take pictures of you, very raunchy pictures, for his eyes only because god knows Leon Kennedy doesn’t share especially when it comes to you.

That’s why you let him because you know for a fact they won’t be seen by anyone but him and because the idea excites you more than you care to admit.

“Fuck- such a pretty girl” You can hear the machinery in the Polaroid as it pushes out another picture, Leon’s free hand rubbing along your thigh, as you sit on his lap.

His fingers trace against the lace of your underwear, so delicately that you almost don’t even feel it, “Absolute Angel, my angel” he says noticing the way your hips grind against him in a desperate attempt to feel something, and you smile proudly when he lets out a shaky breath.

He loves how needy you’ve become, whining about how he’s ‘wearing too much’ as your hands grasp at the ends of his shirt urging him to take it off, but he’s quick to swat them away.

“Leon, take it off” you whine once more, fingers playing with the end of his shirt, it isn’t fair that he’s still clothed while you’re near enough naked sitting on top of him.

His hands continue to run along your thighs, “Such a needy thing” he says, leaning to press kisses to your neck a clash of teeth and tongue against the sensitive skin, and your hands thread through his hair urging him closer to you as he trails along your collar bones, and you can’t stop your hips from stuttering against his as his hand pushes against your lower back bringing you closer to him.

He pulls away, as he takes his shirt off and you watch how his muscles tense and move with the movement as he throws the fabric in the corner of the room, your hands instantly go for his stomach, gentle fingers tracing along his abs up to his chest, you notice the way his muscles tense at your delicate touch, Leon almost seems prideful at they way you gawk at him.

“Smile for me angel,” he says as he unclasps your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders, he points the camera to your chest, “Touch yourself baby” he prompts, watching as your hands squeeze at your boobs, he takes the picture, the dim flash lights the room for a second, and you hear him groan at the sight, as you once again grind against him and you can feel him underneath you.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist slowly guiding his hand towards your lap, he presses his fingers against the wet patch that stains your underwear, and he’s quick to move the camera to capture the sight, his finger circling your clit through your underwear, “Touch me Leon” you sigh and he goes dizzy with nothing but desperate want.

You honestly don’t really remember much, that was until today, so perhaps that’s why you almost have a heart attack when you hand Leon his wallet, the pictures of you tucked away in one of the pockets.

You gasp in complete shock, “What?” He chuckles at your expression, how your mouth is slightly agape with surprise, “You don’t like them?” He teases and you’re far too embarrassed to respond with some snarky comment.

“Leon, why do you have them there? I mean in your wallet of all places?” You ask, hand clasping over your mouth as you look down at the Polaroids of you, there’s one of just your chest your boobs on full display while you squeeze at them, and another, just your hips against his as you sit on his lap, and you can see how hard he is underneath you.

He laughs at your embarrassment, “So I don’t get bored at work” he whispers kissing your forehead, and you shake your head at the thought.

“God Leon- that’s so gross” you sigh, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you.

“Oh yeah? Because I remember you taking this one” he says pulling out another picture, and your heart almost stops at the sight of your fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, wearing one of Leon’s old shirts, and you close your eyes as the memory comes rushing back,

“That one is my personal favorite” he whispers pressing a kiss to your jaw and you go silent with shock, feeling very flushed, completely forgetting you had done that.

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[latenightdaydreams]

Homeless reader pickpockets König and gets caught? Instead of taking her to the police he takes her home? She's a spitfire, and he likes it.

🌶

König x Thief (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2

Master Lister

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, unprotected, breasts f-ing

2.5k word count

💳

.

.

König walks late at night along the busy city streets to blow off steam. People watching is something he enjoys doing, curious how others live their lives so…simply. There is a heavy weight on his shoulders, the lives of other people in his hands to protect or to take. In a way, he envy’s these people to live without true knowledge of what the world's governments do behind closed doors.

A woman in a black baggy shirt and jeans catches his eyes, you. You move as if you’re trying to blend into the darkness, your eyes darting to everyone studying them the way he is. Who are you? Why are you acting so odd? 

As he walks on, his icy blue eyes move from you and continue to people watch. Your eyes fall on the tall man in what looks like a basic black shirt, but you have a keen eye for designer things. The watch on his left wrist hinting at the gold mine inside his wallet. When he gets close enough, you turn out of the storefront you were lingering in, passing König. 

The feeling of your smaller body bumping his snapped his eyes in your direction. You look up at him with a warm smile. “Pardon me.” Your voice and demeanor are extremely bubbly, different from the vibes you were previously giving to him. 

König looks down at you with no emotion and ignores your words. A few steps later, he stops, putting his hand in his pocket. Empty. He quickly spins around to see you trying to blend into the crowd. A smirk plays across König’s lips as he realizes he’s been robbed. He quickly turns, following you at a distance.

Thinking the man was none the wiser, there was a cocky arrogance in the way you moved. The wallet was safely secured in my satchel. You quickly turn to an alleyway that leads you back towards your tent. 

König stalks closely behind without you noticing. For being a thief, you lack spatial awareness. Someone could easily follow you, come up behind you and grab you. Such easy prey. He reaches his massive, calloused hand out, grabbing you by your arm, and spinning you to face him.

“Wallet. Now.” He towers over you by well over a foot, his eyes piercing into your own. One hand extended to accept the wallet back. 

“Let me go! I don’t have your wallet.” You struggle as if you’re truly innocent, hoping he will just think that he is mistaken and go away. What you don’t know is that you picked the wrong target. 

“I’ll demand nicely once more. My wallet. Now.”

Once you realize he isn’t buying your innocent act, you try to stomp his foot to run away. It worked countless times before. You lower the heel of your boot down as hard as you possibly can and prepare to run. The man didn’t even flinch, his eyes still gazing deeply into your own when you look up.

“Let me go!”

“Give me my stuff!” He shouts, his booming voice causing you to give up the hold on his wallet.

You dig into your satchel for his dark brown leather wallet. With an attitude, you slam into the palm of his hand. König feels a heat growing in his loin. This tiny little feisty thief isn’t scared of him? He looks at the defiant look on your face and takes in how attractive your features look this close up.

“You have your wallet, now let me go!” You try to pull your arm away from his hand but his grip is unpleasantly firm.

“You know I could have you arrested right? You just robbed a military Colonel.”

“I gave you your shit back!”

Even with the knowledge of his status, you’re still disrespectful. A deep laugh rumbles from König’s stomach as he looks down at you. “I like you. You’ve got spirit. How about I make you a deal?” König walks into you, forcing you against the brick wall behind you. “I won’t report you if you come home with me.”

A playful smirk pulls at your lips. “You want to fuck me?”

“Is that a problem for you?” König’s voice is low and sensual as his eyes drop to your pillowy lips. “Just one night. I’ll even pay you.”

“I’m not a whore.” You say defensively. 

“I never said you were; I’m just offering a gift. A gift for allowing me to have you… if you will.”

“How much?”

“More than you would have gotten from my wallet.” König’s tone is playful as he sees in your eyes that you’re actually considering doing this. 

“Fine. You’re not going to try and kill me, are you?” You ask half joking.

“I don’t hurt innocent delicate creatures such as yourself.” König moves his masked face to your neck, slowly breathing in your sweaty musk. “I’ll return you safely, and a few thousand dollars richer.”

Thousand piques your interest. You take a few seconds to think about it before looking around you. “Fine. I’ll entertain you for the night.”

“Perfect.” König smiles down at you. “Come with me.” His hand slides down from grabbing your arm to intertwining his fingers with yours. He turns away from the alleyway and begins to walk towards his home.

“What’s your name, Liebling?”

“Y/n. You?”

“I’m König.”

It takes about a twenty-minute walk to get to König’s home. You gaze around at his home, simply decorated but you can tell it’s all high-end luxury. This man really is wealthy. You feel König’s hand on your lower back as he guides you to the staircase, up to his bedroom.

“What are you wanting?” You ask him, unsure of how to go about this transaction. 

“Just a normal night. As if we are truly lovers.”

You stand and watch as he undresses. He takes his boots off, pulling down his snipper mask, exposing his face to you. His blonde hair is messy with an angular face scarred and aquiline nose. Taking in his rugged appearance, you admit to yourself that he is quite attractive. Your eyes follow his hands to the hem of his shirt, his body sculpted and powerful.

König drops his pants last, stepping out of them as they drop to his ankles. “Come here.” He holds his hand out for you, pulling you to him. His free hand reaches for the hem of your shirt, putting his hand underneath to feel your soft skin. Your muscles tense at his touch, his tenderness surprising for you.

As his eyes meet your, he pulls up your shirt. You lift your arms up as he slides your shirt off of your body, his hands quickly wrapping around your waist, caressing your silky-smooth skin. His hands gently glide up your back until he feels your bra, unhooking it and slowly guiding it off of your body. The way your breasts naturally fall when your bra comes away from your body is simply perfection.

König’s leave a trail down your neck to your breasts, holding each one in his hands as he drops to his knees in front of you. His mouth hungrily latches to your nipple, sucking a licking, taking his time on each one. “You have such lovely nipples.” He groans into your skin. 

Slowly, his hands drop down from your breasts, caressing your stomach before undoing your jeans. He pulls them down to your knees, moving one of his hands between your legs. There is a wet patch on your panties already forming. 

“Mien Gott, you’re so wet. I have to taste you.” In almost a rush he pulls down your underwear and drops lower on your body. He shoves his face between your supple thighs, flicking his tongue out against any part of your pussy he could reach. Once he got a small taste of your sweet creamy cunt, he needed more. 

König pulls back, grabbing at your shoes and tossing them to the side before pulling your jeans off completely. He grabs one of your legs and pulls it over his shoulder. You fall off balance, reaching out for him to stabilize yourself. His hands reach behind you and grasps your ass, squeezing as his tongue flicks over your cunt again. 

Tiny moans flow from your lips as your head drops back. Your hands hold his head to your pussy as your feel his tongue move in circles and twist around your clit. You allow yourself to truly relax and enjoy the pleasure you’re receiving. 

“I want to feel you, bury myself deep inside of this pussy.” He groans as he pulls back to gaze up at you. His eyes portray how in lust he is with you right now. It’s been nearly six years’ since he’s touched a woman and here you are; an angel from heaven simply fell into his lap.

König stands with your leg still over his shoulder, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, his hands holding you firmly by your rear. A surprised gasping giggle leaves your lips as he walks you to the bed. He places you down gently onto the bed, pulling down his boxers once his hands are free.

With your body pulled towards the edge of the bed, he grabs your thighs and pulls your legs back. He moves his hips to line his cock up with your vagina. His cock next to your cunt make you look so small. The rush of excitement that flows through him is unmatched by anything he’s felt in a long time.

Slowly, he pushes forward. His eyes focused on your face, watching the way your eyes widen slightly as the head of his cock parks your folds and slips into your tiny little cunt. A soft moan escapes you as your hands grab your legs, assisting in pulling them back. 

König’s eyes watch your stomach and breasts before going back up to your eyes, watching as the pleasure floods your body. Your pupils expand, covering the color of your irises almost completely. Such a beautiful sight. 

His hips roll slowly into you at first, letting you get adjusted to the size of his cock. He’s aware that he’s above average and doesn’t want to push you too far. Dropping his gaze, he watches the way his cock stretches your pussy lips apart, your walls hugging his cock tightly.

“König, yes.” You moan as your fingers dig into your legs, struggling to keep it together as he fucks you.

“Such a pretty voice.” He says breathlessly as he begins to pick up his pace, the small slapping sound of skin on skin being added to the beautiful melody of your moans. The feeling of you clenching around him drives him mad. “If you keep that up, I won’t last long.” König warns.

“Please don’t cum yet, your cocks so fucking good.” 

König looks down at you with a low groan, his eyebrows pinch together, and he shakes his head. “Your cunt’s too tight, so fucking wet.” His hips move more rapidly as one hand moves to cup your breast, pinching your nipping between his fingers as he squeezes. 

The fat on your thighs ripple as he slams into you. Your stomach and breasts look soft and inviting. You can feel your own wetness drip down from your pussy to your ass, wetting the bed sheets beneath you. König closes his eyes and drops his head back; a strong buildup of ecstasy takes over and he can’t ignore it. 

He pulls out, to your disappointment, and pulls your legs more so that you're almost off of the bed. Grabbing your breasts, he rests his wet cock between them and begins to thrust forward. You spit on your breasts to add lubrication for him. His hands squeeze your breasts almost painfully tightly together. 

A loud growl leaves his throat as he looks down at your breasts, completely swallowing his cock. One of your hands drops to your pussy to rub your clit in quick small circles. “Fuck!” König groans as he picks up his pace.

“Open your mouth.”

He steps back, jerking his cock quickly, focusing on the tip of his cock. A few small moans leave his lips before a spurt of his warm cum shoots out and lands in your mouth, dripping down your bottom lip. A few more land across your breasts and on your face. 

You lean forward and suck the tip of his cock, swallowing the rest of his cum. König’s muscles twitch as your mouth wraps around his head, your tongue circling it and making it clean.  “God, y/n. You’re driving me crazy. Get on the bed, bent over.” 

An excited look appears in your eyes as you realize he isn’t done with you yet. You stand, cum still on you, and bend over his bed. König walks up behind you, gazing at the heart shape your ass makes when you bend over like this. His large hand caresses the plumpness before he lines himself up with you again. 

“I want to feel you cum on my cock.” König says before shoving his cock back inside of you.

The next morning you are waken up by the sun peaking through the curtains. You feel König’s muscular arms holding you close to him still, his head resting on your own as he breathes deeply. From where you lay, you can see his expensive watch resting on his dresser, you slowly start to take in everything in the room and think about how much money you could get from pawning all of it. But then your eyes land on König peacefully asleep and feel guilty for wanting to take form him. He’s been surprisingly…kind.

Your eyes go back to his watch, then back to him. With a deep sigh, you push his arms away from your body gently and sneak out of bed. Still naked you wake to his dresser and grab the watch to look at it more closely. 

König feels you move so he opens one eye slightly to watch what you’re doing. He sees you holding the watch, inspecting it. His heart sinks slightly at the fact that he’s trusting you in his home and yet you are doing this. Instead of stopping you, he just pretends to sleep still, seeing what you would do.

He can feel the weight of your small body joining him back in bed. You move slowly so as to not wake König up, but his arms grab you, pulling you back to him. “I can buy you your own Hermès, if that’s what you’d like.” 

You can feel your stomach drop, he saw you looking at his watch. “I wasn’t going to take it.” A lie, and you know he knows it’s one.

“I’m just letting you know; I can take care of you. You don’t have to steal anymore.” His sleepy voice is low and raspy. He reaches out and caresses the side of your face as you gaze at him with a guilty look on your face.

“We can go shopping before I drop you off.” König insists as he stretches, sitting up.

A small smile spreads across your lips as you realize you’ve landed in the lap of luxury. König is happy to share his wealth with you and you’re happy to accept it.

Part 2

[peachsukii]

— blast off!

✮ summary. reupload/re-write! your favorite metal band is in town, the same one you used to listen to with bakugo back in high school, and you decide to go to the show together! after a long week, a night out in Shibuya is exactly what you need. ✮ content. fem!reader. no quirks mentioned/modern college au. brief violence, mentions of alcohol, friends to lovers, mutual pining, protective bakugo, fluff, first kisses. ✮ notes. ty so much to @tartagliove for beta'ing for meee! <3

✮ word count. 1.7k 『 k.bakugo masterlist ⨯ crossposted to ao3 』

“How long's it take for ya to get ready?!” Bakugo shouts from your living room, impatiently tapping his foot while sitting on the couch waiting for you to finish touching up your makeup in the bathroom.

“Just a sec!” You call back, leaning over the sink to smudge the corner of your eyeliner just the way you like it.

“Y’don’t even need any damn makeup!” He retorts, a backhanded compliment to get your ass moving. “And it'll just—” His words die in his throat as you emerge from the hallway and make your way into the living room. The outfit perfectly compliments the occasion, one of your favorite metal bands that you two would listen to back in high school. It wasn’t too over the top, at least you didn’t think so. An all black ensemble: a thin long sleeve mesh top under your band t-shirt, tucked lazily into a pleather mini-skirt and a pair of tinted sheer tights hugging your legs. You catch him staring as you’re clipping in a pair of earrings. 

“What? Too much?”

He scoffs, sneakily checking you out a second time. “You look fine. If some slimy fucker creeps on you, I’ll punch his lights out.”

You can’t help but snort as his comment, shaking your head with a playful eyeroll. Bakugo isn’t as dressed up as you are, donning a simple gray t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and black boots. A stack of his favorite bracelets hang on his wrist and a pair of black studs adorn his ears.

“Figure out where you wanna eat?” You ask before scurrying to the hallway closet to look for your favorite pair of boots.

“The curry place by the station. We can hop on the train into the city afterwards.”

Shoes in hand, you skip back to the living room and plop next to him on the couch.

“Those things could squash a damn kid,” Bakugo jokes, pointing to the platforms of your boots as you’re lacing them on your feet.

“Shut up! They're my favorites.”

“And you’re still shorter than me with those fuckers on.”

You punch him in the arm, maybe a little too hard, in jest. “I don’t need to be your height to kick your ass!”

“Ow, shit! Watch it, those hands are fuckin’ deadly!” He scolds, rubbing the reddening mark on his bicep.

“My bad,” you chuckle and pat him on the shoulder as an apology. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

—

“Hand it over,” Bakugo orders as you pick up the check from the table, flexing his palm toward you.

“Kats, I told you—” you start to remind him until he cuts you off mid-explanation.

“Oh I heard ya, doesn’t change shit. Give it.” He snatches the paper and booklet with one hand while fishing his wallet out of his pocket with the other. “Stop bein’ a brat and let me pay for your stupid dinner.”

Bakugo consistently paid whenever the two of you would go out. It didn’t matter what it was; coffee before work, snacks from the convenience store, lunch outings, dinners in the city, he’d shove you aside and take your card. The few times you did get to pay for him, he immediately sent you the money back. It’s been a consistent staple in your friendship since senior year of high school.

“I’m not being a brat! I was just trying to treat you to dinner for once."

Bakugo rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

—

The two of you arrive at the venue an hour before the show starts, giving you enough time to get inside, grab drinks and find a perfect spot as planned. The bar is relatively empty when you walk in.

“Are you at least gonna let me buy you a drink?” You tease, elbowing Bakugo in the arm.

He sighs dramatically, the tell-tale sign that he’s no longer going to fight you on it. “You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous.”

Beers in hand, you both head to the general admission area and situate yourselves near the back. Not too squished between loads of people, but enough to see the stage comfortably.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you beam, leaning against him as a token of gratitude. "Didn't think you'd come, honestly. It's way past your bedtime, old man."

He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his chest with a huff. “Would'a been mad if ya didn’t ask me to come with ya. We always had it on repeat through study sessions and sparring matches.”

The lights begin to dim and the crowd cheers as the band takes the stage. Bakugo lets you take a step back and shift next to him, but keeps his arm around your shoulders. The two of you cheer together and hold up your beers for the band as they set up for their first song. As the show progresses, Bakugo loves watching you throw your hands up and yell along with the crowd, having the time of your life and not letting anyone get in your way. It’s infectious, his grin not wavering the entire show. Before you knew it, the night was coming to an end.

“We have one more song for the night!” The lead singer announces into the mic as he swings an acoustic guitar over his shoulder. “It’s a special one. If you know the words, don't be afraid to sing along. Thanks for coming out!”

The song they begin to play is one of their slower numbers, one that you know Bakugo adored, even if he never vocalized it. You watch as his eyes light up under the spotlights, taking in the moment as the notes fill the air. You loop your arm with his, rocking back and forth in unison with the rest of the crowd. Bakugo removes his arm from yours to spin you around, pulling you close and holding you to his chest. He gently sways back and forth, the sound of his heartbeat thrumming under your cheek with the subtle vibrations of him humming to the song added to the rhythm. Your eyes flutter closed, absorbing every ounce of love in this moment. Everyone else fades away, this rare moment lost to time and space, reserved just for the two of you. The song comes to an end, your reality slowly restoring to normal when Bakugo loosens his hold around you.

“I didn’t think they were gonna play that tonight,” you say, smiling up at him. “Guess we gotta buy t-shirts now!”

Bakugo laughs, shaking his head. “Matching ones?”

“It’s either that or we buy one and I constantly steal it from you.”

'We?' He cracks a smile at the suggestion.

“You steal my shit all the time, ya brat,” Bakugo teases, pinching your cheek. “I’ll buy two. Which one do y’want?”

“You pick! I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out,” you say as you pat him on the shoulder before skipping off to the opposite side of the venue. He heads over to the merch table to stand in line for your t-shirts, but it doesn't take long to get through the line. It feels like an eternity since you wandered off once Bakugo's standing off to the side waiting for you, growing anxious that something happened. He meanders over toward the bathrooms, the t-shirts he bought for you both draped over one of his shoulders. He’s poking around, searching for you in the crowd as he finally spots you in the sea of others. You’re talking with some guy that he doesn’t recognize, and the creep is inching his way into your personal bubble, annoyance written all over your face. Bakugo stomps forward and catches the last part of his lame excuse of a pickup line.

“C’mon doll, you’re fine as hell. Don't you—"

"Beat it, jackass. She's not interested," Bakugo interrupts, stepping to your side.

The guy scoffs and takes a step back from you. "And who the hell are you?"

Bakugo doesn't hesitate when he answers confidently. "Her boyfriend. Now fuck off."

Your cheeks flare at his comment. Did he mean that, or was that just to get this guy off your back? You turn to leave when the guy slaps your ass - hard - making you jump with disgust. Everything turns red in an instant.

"Have fun with this loser, babe,” he mocks with a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

Bakugo doesn't even have time to react himself before your fist crashes into this guy's jaw, clocking him so hard that he stumbles to the floor in shock. The commotion causes one of the security guards to scurry in your direction, beckoning for you to come over to him.

"Fuck, we gotta go!" you yell, interlocking your fingers with Bakugo's as you weave through the crowd and dart away from the guard before getting caught. The two of you manage to escape, bolting out of the venue's exit door and into the busy Shibuya streets. You don't stop running until you round a corner and duck into an alleyway, hiding from any potential security that could've tailed you. Out of breath, you lean on to the wall and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Shit, sorry Kats, didn't mean to thrash you around like that."

Bakugo takes a second before deciding to box you up against the wall with his frame, catching you off guard.

"I'm not complain'. I won't lie, it was kinda hot watchin' you punch that asshole."

A genuine laugh bubbles in your throat. "He deserved it. But boyfriend, huh?" you joke, smirking and pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

"I bought matching band shirts with ya, who the fuck else would I do that shit with?" Bakugo snickers as he's shutting his eyes, lowering his face to level with your own before your lips meet. The kiss is impulsive, but feels oh so right. You pull him back in for another right after, longer and sweeter than the first, enough to show that he earned the boyfriend title.

This isn't where you thought the night would end, but you're over the moon.

✮ network. @pixelcafe-network ✮ bkg & all tags. @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq 

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @catsoupki

@queenpiranhadon @kirishimaeijiromyman @strwbrrykthv

@hayatoseyepatch @awkwardchick87 @stunies @sakufilm

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Belle Mort || LN4

AN: this was deep in the archives of abandoned fics but figured I’ll just post it anyway.

Pairing: Lando Norris x vampire!fem!reader

Summary: Your paths weren’t meant to cross - he was a famous driver and your brethren were the thing of myths and nightmares.

Warnings: smut, major character death

He didn’t belong here.

You could only surmise Vinny let him in the club because he knew an easy target when he saw one. Rich, young and handsome - he was ripe for the taking. A part of you knew not to get involved but, unlike your brother, you had a small conscience, especially when it came to the pretty, blue-eyed man who had shared your bed.

Making your way across the busy dance floor of Belle Mort, you snaked between the women who were selling themselves to the richest man one sway of their hips at a time. You slapped away roaming hands that tried to pull you into their laps and glared at the men until they looked away with wounded egos.

Your brother spotted the target and you stepped lightly in your high heels as you dodged the revellers, finally making it in front of the handsome man. “Qu'est-ce que tu fais, garçon perdu?”

Lando smirked as he cast his eyes over your body, the tight fitted dress hiding very little of the body he knew intimately. “I don’t speak French.”

“I know.”

His hand caught your waist and pulled you closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You didn’t call me.”

You rolled your eyes at the need that laced his words, but it would have been a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it. You had even kept his number when you should have deleted it. Your worlds were so far apart you didn’t see the point in making it more than a one night stand, it was safer that way. “I know. Find another bar.”

“I like this one.” His hand tightened and his thumb brushed over your ribs, tracing the curve under your breast. His smirk grew as he felt your ribs expand with the sharp intake of air you took.

“You’ve never been here before.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I own it.”

“Co-own, dear sister,” Nix added as he stepped to your side. “And if Lando wants to party then who are we to deny him.”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother. “It’s bad for business.”

“Why? Because you mixed it with pleasure,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair, cracking your neck as he pushed you away to leer at the man himself. “I can see the appeal. No one can deny you have good taste, it’s just a shame you always leave them broken.”

“What’s he talking about?” Lando asked as he helped keep you steady from your brother's push.

“Nix has always been jealous of me, haven’t you?” you taunted him. “Always wanted my dolls for himself.”

Nix’s jaw ticked and if the music wasn’t so loud you probably could have heard a tooth break. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m on a break,” you stated, catching Lando’s attention as you grabbed his wrist and started to drag him to your office before freezing. Your hand met bare skin and you held your hand out to your brother. “Give it back. Now.”

Nix rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket to return the watch he had easily lifted from Lando. The glass and diamond face slapped into your palm but you curled a brow at him and cleared your throat, waiting for the rest.

“You really used to be more fun,” he grumbled as he returned Lando’s wallet too. “Don’t worry, the condom is still in there.”

“And the cash?”

“I don’t think that is really your worry, but yes, cash too.”

Nix disappeared into the crowd and even you found it difficult to trace his movements but he was one of the fastest vampires you knew.

“Interesting family you have,” Lando commented as the music was cut off with your office door.

“You should be more careful,” you warned as you slid the security chain onto the latch. “This side of town could get a guy like you killed.”

“A guy like me?” he asked as he accepted the whiskey you poured, neat. “Handsome?”

“Well known,” you corrected, despite his knowing smirk. Of course you found him handsome, or else you wouldn’t have let him fuck you in the bathrooms of another nightclub in the city. You had a business meeting, with a wolf no less, and the owner had left you displeased, so you found another form of pleasure in his den. “Where you go, pictures are taken. That is bad for my business.”

Who knew what illegal activities those pictures or videos might capture and be uploaded. Voices had been silenced for less in the dark alleys around the club - but the bodies were never found.

Lando took a sip as he weighed your words of warning, but it didn’t stop him wanting to go another round with you. He knew you were different from the moment he saw you. Determination and strength rolled off you as you stalked through the club to a door labelled ‘staff only’. A different look of determination had been seen when you emerged, scanning the crowd for someone to use - he had come to the club for the same reason.

“I can be invisible, when I want to be,” he promised as he followed you to the desk you leaned back on, crossing your heeled ankles in front of you. He placed the glass on the wood beside you and smelt the smooth spirit on his breath when he kissed the corner of your lips. “But I wanted you to notice me, again.”

His hand ran down your thighs and your ankles uncrossed. He took the space given and parted your legs so he could step between them and steal your moan with his kiss. His tongue parted your lips with the same confidence he parted your legs and he hummed when your hands slipped under his shirt, your nails dragging down his spine.

“I’m going to fuck you on your desk and every time you have a meeting here you will think of me.”

Desire pooled between your thighs at the promise and when his fingers found your body bare beneath the dress he felt it slick and warm. “You like that idea don’t you?” he chuckled in your ear, the deep timber of his gravelled voice making you clench around his fingers before they withdrew from you. “Turn around.”

For a woman who considered herself to be the bossy one, you were quick to follow his instruction and it didn’t go amiss from the smirk on his face. “I don’t remember you being this demanding last time,” you said over your shoulder, feeling the air on your skin as he pushed your dress up over your hips.

“That’s because you looked like you needed it more than me.” He flipped his wallet open and pulled the condom out, tearing through the foil packaging before rolling it down his hard length. With one swipe of his arm he cleared space on your desk and started to push you down before he changed his mind and spun you to face him. “Actually, I want to see your face when I make you come.”

The mahogany wood was hard under your ass and you spread your knees for Lando to step between. His cock pressed to your entrance and he watched your lips part as he slowly began to stretch you, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside you.

“You’re going to call me, aren’t you?” he asked with the teasingly slow retreat he made. He stopped just short of leaving you empty and made no move to fill you again. “I’m not going to fuck you until you answer me.”

You tried to shuffle your hips closer but he held them tight and your feet were off the ground so you couldn’t move, not without revealing your unnatural strength. Finally a frustrated sound left your lips and he smiled triumphantly when you agreed. “Now would you please fuck me?”

He answered with the snap of his hips and you moaned in unison as he filled you completely. The computer screen came to life and the mouse moved with the rocking desk and the cup of pens tipped over, scattering among the mess he had already made. Stars danced across your vision and your body pulsed with the deep bass that made it through the soundproof door.

“Lando,” you moaned as you tipped his head back, baring his neck as you felt your canines elongating behind your lips. The throb of his rapid pulse invited you to taste him and you dragged your nose over the vein, inhaling the rich scent hidden beneath his cologne. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

He shivered as your teeth grazed his skin but he was too far gone in his pleasure to question the sharp points. Just a little sip, you told yourself.

Lando gasped as pain flared, but just as quickly as it came it bled to a burn that felt better than any high he had ever had. He couldn’t breathe as you sucked at the puncture wounds, filling your belly with the same need you had for his cock.

He couldn’t explain how he found himself sat on the couch in your office with you on his lap, he had only blinked. You were high on him, making silly errors like using your speed and strength carelessly. You weren’t new to this life, but you were acting like it with him.

“Why did you come here?”

His head fell back and his eyes closed as you took your pleasure in riding him. He couldn’t think, there was only the tight feeling in all his muscles as his orgasm threatened to shatter him beneath you. “Just wanted you,” he choked as he bucked his hips up to meet you. “Again.”

You cried out as your climax peaked and Lando followed, unable to hold back with how tight you felt around him. Your head spun as the high receded, but you wanted more - it was the curse of immortality, you always wanted more.

You turned his head and struck again, lapping at the twin lines of life blood running down his collar. Cursing inwardly, you realised you were taking too much, you always took too much when you played with your food. Lando’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing laboured, his skin fading before your eyes. Nix was right, you always left them broken.

“Fuck,” you growled at the thought of losing another man. Tearing the skin from your wrist you made what was possibly the second biggest mistake of your life, the first would always be asking for this life. Your blood was thicker and darker than his, staining his lips as you squeezed it out before the wound could heal.

“Wake up…” You prayed you weren’t too late, the seconds ticking by with quiet reassurance that time would continue to move on even if Lando never did again.

—

Nix crashed through the office door as dawn approached and the club closed. His black eyes found Lando’s body on the couch and a sneer carved across his lips. “What a waste.”

You barely lifted your head from your hands as you sat at your desk. You had felt lethargic from a full belly and drained veins. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You never do,” he snickered. “There will be people looking for him, I’ll have Vinny dump him in the marina - another rich boy who partied too hard.”

Lando gasped as he jolted upright, his eyes ringed red from the transformation, and a war waged within you. Rage exuded from Nix as he realised the danger you had put the entire coven in and his features sharpened as his fangs pierced his lips. “You would bring the Council down on our heads, sister?”

“I said I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t stand to see another die because of my weakness.”

“I would rather you have just killed him.” Nix pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. To change a human required petitioning to the Council, and permits were rarely given this century - and certainly not to those well known. People tend to notice when someone doesn’t age at the same rate: Jennifer Anniston, Cillian Murphy, Paul Rudd, Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Those half breeds could get away with it for a little longer but they would soon be faking their own deaths to keep the secret of their heritage.

“Take him to the mountains,” Nix said as he crossed the room to where Lando writhed in pain on the carpet, the transition destroying his delicate human cells for something much more robust. “I’ll tie up the loose ends here.”

Nix took the car keys from Lando’s pocket and checked his watch. There was still enough time before dawn came to wreck the car off the cliffs and into the French Riviera. When the car was found empty they would assume his body was carried out to sea. Lando Norris was dead. Lando de Belle Mort had risen.

[frudoo]

141 Reader who's really good at Sleight of hand/pickpocketing? Does it for fun, sees how long it takes someone to notice their items gone. Lighters, wallets, watches.

This one got me gigglin 🤭

Warnings: None! GN reader!

Someone on base is a dirty thief, and Captain John Motherfucking Price is going to find out who it is. He sends out an urgent group text to you and the other members of Task Force 141, demanding that you all meet in his office now. You’re holding onto Johnny’s arm as you walk inside with him, and while he’s all nervous and distracted, you carefully maneuver his watch off of his wrist and slip it into your pocket. 

     “What do you think this is about?” You ask Johnny quietly, watching as Simon and Kyle slip into the room and stand beside you.

     “Sounds like Cap’s go’ a stick up his arse,” he replies, eyes going wide as Price smacks his hand on his desk.

     You and the other three suspects all fall into parade rest, eyes focused on the fuming man staring you all down. 

     “One o’you fuckers has been stealin’ supplies and- and random shite, and you need to own up to it. Soap, you first. Speak.”

     “Ah’ve been in the 141 fer years, sir, when ‘ave ye known me tae steal?” Johnny furrows his eyebrows, accent a little heavier under his duress. 

     John sniffs, stepping around his desk to look the sergeant up and down. After a few seconds, he hums, moving onto you. Price cocks an eyebrow expectantly, and you, ever the charmer, put on a brave face.

     “Sir, I haven’t been on this task force for very long, and I still don’t know my way around the entire base. I’m not even sure where we keep most of our supplies,” you reason, secretly praising yourself for being such a believable actor.

     John narrows his eyes at you and gives you the same treatment as Johnny, looking you up and down before moving onto his next suspect: Simon.

     “Ghost, I should hope you of all people wouldn’t participate in such degenerate activities,” Price deadpans, and Simon stares back at him just the same.

     “Never. Noticed my things goin’ missin’, too,” Ghost grunts.

     John doesn’t even give him a once-over, just moves onto Gaz.

     “Kyle. I know my best sergeant wouldn’t do anything so foolish,” John tilts his head, holding a hand up to Johnny who’s about to start running his mouth.

     “No, sir. You know me,” Kyle responds coolly, and once again, John gives him the benefit of doubt. 

     Price huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose in desperation. He steps back around his desk and flops into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh.

     “It’s been a long week, yeah? Maybe I’ve been misplacing things, and wrongly put the blame on you lot. My apologies. You’re all dismissed,” John grumbles, setting his boonie hat on his desk to run his fingers through his hair.

     “Thank you, sir,” all four suspects collectively say.

     While Kyle, Johnny, and Simon all walk out, you stay behind, walking up to Price’s desk with a sympathetic smile on your face. He hums, waiting for you to speak.

     “Just wanted to say that you should get some rest, Cap. The rest of us’ll keep an eye out in case anything else turns up missing,” you hum, reaching across the desk to pat his hand softly.

     “I appreciate it,” he responds, corners of his eyes crinkled as he grins back at you.

     You walk out, and as you shut the door behind you, John goes to place his hat back on his head only to find that it’s no longer on his desk. The last thing you hear before sprinting back to your barracks is Price’s muffled, irate voice screaming your name.

[harmonictechnicality]

It’s 1998 and Steve Harrington is waiting in line at a local department store’s Black Friday sale. The new gameboy color was just released a few days earlier - he figures it’ll be the perfect Christmas gift for all of his little dweebie friends.

Eddie Munson is standing directly behind Steve in line. He’s waiting to buy a new guitar amp - been saving his tip money for months and still can’t afford one at full price; he desperately needs any discount he can get.

After about the first hour of waiting, Steve notices Eddie mumbling to himself. Counting, then re-counting the money in his wallet. Steve Harrington has never re-counted money in his life. Never had to worry about not having enough. Especially not like this guy.

They spark up a conversation in the third hour of waiting. Steve compliments Eddie’s industrial bar piercing in his left ear. Eddie compliments Steve’s beaded hemp bracelet. Steve explains that his best friend made it for him after their first summer apart from one another.

By the final hour, they’re both tipsy. Eddie brought a thermos of spiked hot chocolate and offers to share it with Steve. Both of them tell stories about their worst hangovers and reminisce about their most memorable Christmas mornings as kids. They’re both buzzing and giggling at the stupidest shit. Buzzing so much that they don’t even comment on the fact that they’re huddled close together under the wool blanket that Steve supplied. Thighs touching. Arms overlapping.

Steve has finally worked up the courage to loop his pinky finger around Eddie’s when the line begins to move. He’s more than a little disappointed, but they both gather their things and enter the store.

Luckily, Steve is able to snag enough gameboys for his entire crew of nerdlings. As he gets in line, he watches Eddie studying the price on the amp he has been saving for. He re-counts his cash once more, before hanging his head and walking away without his item.

Not wasting a goddamn second, Steve jumps out of line and grabs the amp box off the shelf. Eddie looks back at him, shaking his head.

“Hey man, you don’t have to do that.” Eddie pleads with him.

But Steve has never had to worry about not having enough. Not even once.

“I know I don’t have to.” Steve shrugs, lugging all of his items to the checkout counter. “But it’s the season of giving, or whatever hallmark shit they say.”

Eddie protests a few more times, but Steve is adamant on doing this. It feels right.

As they walk out of the store, Eddie digs in his back pocket, pulling out a wrinkled neon flyer.

“You should come see my band next Friday.” Eddie hands the paper to Steve, then motions to the amp. “You know, to see this beauty in action.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”

The sun is starting to rise as they both load up their cars. Steve is about to turn the key in the ignition when he acts on his impulses. He runs up to Eddie, who is closing the trunk of his van.

“Here.” Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and pulls out a black ink pen. He scribbles his phone number there, only legible enough for Eddie to read it.

“Just in case you want to see me before next Friday.”

Steve walks away before he can see Eddie’s reaction, good or bad. He’s brave, but not that brave.

“Hey, Steve!” Eddie calls back.

“Yeah?” Steve takes a deep breath, then turns around. Can’t avoid his reaction now.

"Thank you for this." Eddie winks. "All of this."

He waves his wrist, the one with Steve's phone number sprawled all over it.

"Anytime." Steve answers back. He heads back to his car full of gifts. Smiling the whole ride home.

Eddie calls Steve that Sunday night and they spend their evening just like they had on Black Friday: talking until the sun comes up.

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter six

summary: your bar regulars come visit you at your house, begging you to let them in. then, you're visited by the masked men again.

word count: 2.6k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: one again, you can choose who is who during the last part of the story, but i wrote it with the idea that buck is more eager to please, while eddie is sadistic hehe. and i'm so sorry, this was supposed to be longer (the smut was lol) but i sprained my wrist a couple years ago and it never fully healed, so typing is really painful sometimes, and lately it's been really bad. i'll try to make the next chapter longer if my wrist feels better though. enjoy<33

warnings: hints of smut, stalking, slight non-con (but reader likes it??? idk), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

It’s been almost a week since you watched Isaac die in the alleyway. You’ve called in sick to work the entire week; you can hardly even get out of bed. While you hope and pray that you aren’t in danger as long as you play along with this fucked up game, the people around you are dying now. 

You went to take the trash out the day after Isaac died, it was late at night, and you almost bumped into a man in the dark back entryway of your building. The next day, he was found dead in his car. Stabbed to death. And you recognized him immediately when you saw the news.

You hadn’t noticed when he turned, thinking for a moment about following you, but choosing against it. But they did. They had been parked outside of your house for most of the day, just making sure their sweet girl was okay, when they saw the man. They knew what they had to do; they couldn’t risk anything happening to you. 

In reality, the man had stopped and turned because he thought he forgot his wallet in his girlfriend’s apartment, but then realized it was in his pocket, and turned back around and left the building. They weren’t aware of that, though. Clearly.

They start to get worried for you when you still haven’t left your apartment a week later. They’re almost sure you’re running out of food by now, and all you do is move from your bed, to your couch, and back to bed. 

You’re ignoring their messages and calls, too. You didn’t even laugh when you listened to Buck’s voicemail about a fight almost breaking out at the Thirteen Crows on football night. You usually love to hear drama like that. 

That’s why, eight days after they killed Isaac, Eddie shows up to your house with a smile and a box of donuts. Something to cheer you up, he says.

“Eddie, you have to go.” He’s only just able to see your face; your body completely behind the door as you open your door just far enough for you to stick your head out. His smile falters; this donut shop is your favourite.

“I heard about Isaac, and Tara says you’ve called in to work every day this week. Figure you could use some company.” he tries to reason, fighting the urge to push the door open and bully his way in. He can’t, though. He knows that.

“Thank you, but you really have to go.” you tell him. You try to be stern, but your voice comes out just above a whisper, and Eddie picks up on the edge in your voice. 

You can’t see him being killed too. You’re not sure why these men have attached themselves to you, or how the people around you are managing to piss them off, but you really don’t want to test them. And Eddie has a son, for god’s sake, you can’t risk anything happening to either of them.

“Why? Is everything okay?” he asks, feigning concern as he looks at you with his big brown eyes. You sigh, tears forming in your eyes as you tear your gaze from his and tilt your face to the floor. He’s so kind, and you want nothing more than to have his large arms wrapped around you right now, letting him calm you down, but you know you can’t.

“I don’t want you to die.” is all you say before you close the door abruptly. He hears the lock click, and he listens hard to hear your movements behind the door. When he doesn’t, he pulls out his phone, seeing that you’re still standing with your back pressed to the door, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your chin. 

He huffs as he opens the phone app and hits Buck’s contact. He needs him here now. Their poor thing; they’ve scared you too much, and now they have to do something to get you back. To make you believe they can protect you.

He walks down the hall, just enough that you won’t be able to hear him before he explains what’s just happened to Buck, although he’s sure Buck had already heard most of the conversation from the camera.

Not even ten minutes later, Buck is walking into your building with food from your favourite takeout place. They both walk back to your door together, waiting impatiently for you to let them in. 

When Buck sees your tired face, riddled with sorrow, it’s hard for him to fight the urge to barge into your apartment and wrap his arms around you, but he restrains himself. He knows you have to let them in willingly.

“Please.” is all you say when you look between them, and they give you sheepish smiles.

“You’re not gonna get rid of us, sweetheart. We know you need someone. Please let us in.” Buck says, and Eddie’s brows raise just slightly, proud of the sincerity in his voice.

You hesitate as you look between them, their eyes big and hopeful. You know you shouldn’t; you’re half sure that they’re already on the masked men’s hit list already just by being here. But you feel like you’re going fucking insane. You want nothing more than to be close to someone right now, so after a few moments, you sigh and open the door further. 

They’re quick to move past you and into your apartment before you change your mind. They make themselves right at home in your kitchen, getting the food they brought ready, while you sit back down on your couch, too exhausted to follow them.

They sit the food in front of you when they come back in, then sandwich you between them on the couch. Their bodies are pressed up beside yours, but you hardly care right now, you’re just glad that someone is here. Finally.

“Now, you’re gonna eat, and then you’re gonna tell us why you think we’ll die because we’re here.” Eddie tells you sternly, although there’s a hint of softness in his voice that you cling to. 

You look down at the food and sigh. You don’t remember the last time you’ve eaten, so you take the food that Eddie holds out for you, feeling a little awkward as they watch you eat.

Buck picks up on your expression and grabs the remote to your tv, turning it on and letting the noise drown out the silence of your apartment. With one quick look to Eddie, both of them turn to watch the tv while you finish eating, continuing to steal glances at you every now and then.

When you’re finally finished, Buck takes your empty plate from you and sets it on your coffee table, then both men angle their bodies to face you once again.

You look straight ahead of you as they wait for you to start speaking, and then you let out a sob, closing your eyes as you lurch forward, holding your head in your hands.

They’re both quick to comfort you. Buck puts an arm around your shoulders and shushes you quietly, while Eddie’s hand goes to your thigh, rubbing a thumb across the skin not covered by your sleep shorts.

After ten or so minutes, you finally inhale a shaky breath, whispering a quick “okay” as you straighten up.

“Everyone around me is dying.” you say, unsure of what else you even can say. They furrow their brows in feigned confusion, both keeping their hands on you as they urge you to continue speaking.

“I just- I don’t want anything to happen to you. You shouldn’t be here.” They shake their heads adamantly, and Eddie is the first to speak.

“Hey, nothing is gonna happen to us. We can take care of ourselves.” he says sternly, and you turn to look up at him, chewing on your lip nervously. 

The rest of the story is on the tip of your tongue; threatening to spill now that your friends, your very large, very handsome friends, are beside you. You don’t though. You know the masked men will find out somehow.

“That’s what Isaac said. And look at him now.” you speak in a quiet voice. Tears are forming in your eyes again as you think of the sight of him, bloody and gasping in the alleyway, and nothing for you to do for him.

“We’re not Isaac. Nothing is going to happen to you. That’s a promise.” Buck says, and you want to believe him so bad. Your mind is so jumbled that you don’t realize the “what the fuck?” look Eddie gives Buck. You know that they can’t really promise that, but you can’t help but believe Buck’s words. You’re sure it’s just because you’re desperate for his words to be true, but either way, you can’t help but let out a big breath, feeling your shoulders deflate slightly.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.” Both men raise a brow at your words. They both feel you’re about to tell them about everything, and they’re not sure if that’s good or bad. 

“If people around you are dying, why aren’t you worried about yourself?” Eddie asks, a slight edge in his voice that flies right over your head. 

You shake your head as you think about everything that’s happened to you the past couple weeks. Why couldn’t they have just killed you; gotten it over with, you think.

“I don’t know. I just- I don’t want to lose anyone else.” You whisper the last sentence, crossing your arms over your torso in a desperate attempt to calm your racing heart. Both men smirk at each other for a split second before their eyes are back on you. Their good girl; they knew you’d listen to them.

“We’re not going anywhere. We’re gonna help you through this, alright?” Buck speaks, and you nod slowly. You look up at him with the smallest hint of a smile, and he lets out a breath, elated to finally see that pretty smile he’s been so desperate to see for the last eight days.

“Yeah, who’s gonna kill us? We’re firefighters, and we wouldn’t go down easy.” Eddie tries to joke, and your smile widens. Buck almost moans at the sound of your soft laugh, a grin breaking onto his face as he makes eye contact with Eddie over your head. They’ve won.

You finally go back to work for your next shift two days later, a small smile on your face as you greet Tara. She explains the new people your boss has hired as you begin to work, and you almost feel normal for an hour or two as she tells you that the new guy is an absolute idiot, and the girl is super nice. You’re excited to meet them, although you’re sure the man will make you want to punch him, but you hope that he’s at least nice. 

You’re extremely happy when your regulars walk into the bar. It means that they haven’t been brutally murdered by two masked men, and you feel yourself becoming a little less anxious. Maybe the masked men have found a new target, you think, because the killings haven’t stopped, but the man that the police had found yesterday wasn’t anyone you knew.

Both men walk you home at the end of the night, vowing that they’ll protect you and themselves the whole way, and you let them. You know that if the masked men want to kill them, they’ll kill them regardless of if you let them walk you home, so you quickly agree to them coming with you.

It’s still dark when you wake up from a deep sleep, a hand clasped over your mouth and the familiar feeling of a cold blade at your neck. You stare up at the masks with wide eyes, trying to blink away the darkness as they shush your soft whimpers in low tones. 

“Hey, sweet girl. You miss us?” one purrs, both of them tilting their heads to the side as they take in your fearful expression.

“It’s okay, honey. You’ve been so good for us; haven’t told a soul, have you?” the smaller one speaks, and you nod quickly. They hear your muffled “no, no” under the firm hand over your mouth, and chuckle darkly.

“And nothing’s going to happen to you, sweet girl. As long as you don’t say a word to anyone about us. You got that, baby?” the larger one says, and you nod quickly when the knife is removed from your neck. 

You try not to think about the pool between your legs as they stare down your body. You know you shouldn’t feel this way about these men; they’ve killed two people you knew, and countless others, but you can’t stop staring at their broad shoulders and muscular arms. 

With one swift motion, the smaller man hands the knife to the other man and then yanks your panties down your legs, the smirk evident in his voice when he speaks.

“You like being our little toy, don’t you, sweet girl? You’re fucking soaked.” You hesitate, and when the larger man takes his hand off your mouth and leans down to inhale the scent of your skin, you nod once.

“Yes. yes.” you whimper, closing your eyes and shivering as the smaller man’s glove-covered fingers ghost up your inner thigh.

“Then, you know the drill, baby.” is the last thing you hear before your eyes are covered by what you’re sure is the same blindfold they used last time. 

They do the exact same thing as the last time they broke into your apartment; one man playing with your tits while the other licks and nips at your dripping cunt. 

You realize almost immediately, though, that the way they touch you is extremely different. While the man whose mouth attached itself to your clit last time was desperate and eager, the other laps at your cunt in a way that’s almost sadistic. His teeth ghost over your clit before he bites lightly, and if it wasn’t for the knife firmly placed between the valley of your breasts, you’re sure you’d be screaming and writhing away from him.

Similarly, the man whose mouth and hand are attached to your sensitive breasts seems to be relishing in your pleasure. As you fight back whimpers and moans, all you can hear is the man’s voice continuously asking “you like that, sweet girl? You want more?” 

When they finally leave, you’re once again left in complete darkness. Your legs are weak, and you can still feel the cold remnants of spit around your nipples, which is now making you shiver as it dries in the cool air.

As you drift off to sleep, all you can think about is how fucking good they just made you feel, and why they haven’t made you do anything for them. You want to believe their words; you want to believe that they won’t continue killing if you continue with their arrangement, so you find yourself doing so as your eyes flutter shut. 

You can’t help but think that this arrangement isn’t half bad. You feel extremely guilty as the miniscule thought trumps the stampede of fearful ones in your mind, but you can’t help it. If all they want is this, you sort of don’t mind giving it to them, even if it makes your heart race and your hands shake in fear.

next chapter

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[lesbianpepsi]

is this love?

pairing: Vada Cavell x fem!reader

summary: reader goes on Vada's laptop and finds something very interesting on it

words: 2.204k

warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing, bad writing, let me know if there's anything else

authors note: this is my first time writing for Vada so if she seems OOC i'm sorry💀

vada (1:31am) wher r u? 

me (1:33am): at home...? 

vada (1:33am): cum over 2 watch a movie 🙃🙃

vada (1:33am): come* lol

vada (1:33am): cum 👉👌

me (1:34am): hilarious. why do you want me over vads?

vada (1:36am): bord and snakish 

me (1:36am): it's half one in the morning

vada (1:36am): pls:( not evn for ur wife???💔

me (1:38am): what snacks do you want me to bring?

vada (1:38am): :D

vada (1:38am): takis, that choalet u like, waterlemon siur patch kid 

me (1:39am): okay, i'll be over in a few 

vada (1:39am): tyty

me (1:39am): 🙄🖤

vada (1:40am): 🤭🤭

You shook your head in amusement as you shoved your foot into your vans, soon after shoving your phone into the baggy hoodie you owned. 

Of course only for Vada -your girlfriend- you'd sneak out in the middle of the night to bring snacks and to watch movies.

The chokehold that girl had on you was beyond tight.

Grabbing your headphones, backpack, wallet and phone you silently sneaked your way down the stairs, you took painfully slow steps to make sure you wouldn't make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity you had made it outside with the key to the garage, you quickly went to unlock it and retrieved your broken blue bike. It was barley rideable, but still good enough for you.

You locked the garage, keeping the keys in your pocket before you began biking away towards the closest 7/11. 

The headphones placed on your ears filled the silence of the night with the sweet melody of Lana Del Rey.

After a handful of songs and halfway through White Mustang you arrived at the small store, it being the only twenty four hour store that was closest to yours and Vada's house.

You hopped off your bike before you entered, you had already memorised what Vada wanted. It didn't take you long before you were at the counters paying for the snacks, trying not to laugh at the clearly high worker who tried to act sober.

"Thanks." The worker gave a lazy thumbs up as he cracked an even lazier smile, you chuckled as you shoved your purchases into your backpack.

You sat back down on your bike as you checked on your phone to see three unread messages by Vada.

vada (1:43am): pls ride save 🚲🚲🚲🥽🥽🛟

vada (1:57am): jez what's takis so long?

vada (1:57am): 🪚

me (1:59am): 1) i will, don't worry❤️ 2) i have to ride to the store then to yours, plus my bike is shit. 3) no we're not watching saw, last time you watched it you got nightmares

vada (1:59am): ur alive!!!🧟‍♀️🚫

vada (2:00am): hury up 

You laughed to yourself as you kept your phone back into its original position, peddling away before you took your hand out of your pocket.

Lana Del Rey's mystical voice sung a few more songs in your ears before you arrived outside of the Cavell residence. 

You swiftly got off of the bike before you walked it up the pathway to keep leaning it against the wall. 

Opening the gate you silently walked over to the back door to where Vada was already waiting for you, smiling brightly when she noticed your presence. 

"Y/n! Hi!" She whispered yelled as she grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug. You smiled down at her as you wrapped your arms around her.

"Hey, Vads." You replied with a warm smile as butterflies flew around in your stomach at the contact.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Vada gazed up at you and stole a kiss from you before she headed towards the cabinets.

You took the moment for freedom to take off your shoes, placing them neatly in the corner of the room. 

 Vada went on her tippy toes as she reached two glasses from a cabinet, dropping them a bit too carelessly making you wince.

"Wanna do me a favour?" Vada asked as she grinned at you, hopping over to the alcohol cabinet as she took out a bottle of vodka.

You raised your eyebrows as you leaned against the counter. "Depends what that is." 

"Go on my laptop and choose a movie for us to watch while I make us our drinks." She said as she shook the bottle of vodka daringly in her hands.

You laughed as you nodded your head, pushing yourself off the counter. "You already know what I'm going to put on." 

"We are not watching Spider-Man again. I beg you." 

"Fine." You decided with a roll of your eyes, somewhat not surprised Vada didn't want to watch Spider-Man for probably the fifth time this week. 

Without a noise you made your way up the stairs and towards Vada's dimly lit bedroom. You shrugged off your backpack as you dropped down on Vada's snuggliest bed.

Her laptop was already on her bed so you thankfully didn't have to get back up, stretching until you reached it and swiftly pulled the laptop onto your lap.

You opened the laptop and immediately winced at the brightness, of fucking course Vada would put her laptop at full brightness at night. 

You hurriedly lowered the brightness until you could actually look at it.

That's when you noticed the laptop was making a noise.

The Sims theme played lowly, an audio that was instantly recognisable. You smiled as you noticed Vada was still in her world.

Deciding there was no harm in it, you began looking around the beautifully decorated house Vada had built. 

It was a perfect house for the family Tara had made.

The first sim you noticed was a toddler, a boy with y/h/c coloured hair and a freckled face. 

You smiled at how cute the sim was as your eyes flickered down to the corner of the screen where a small row of sims' faces was at.

Finding the toddler's face you hover the mouse over it to get the name of the sim.

Tod Y/l/n-Cavell

You blinked, then blinked again at the name.

Y/l/n-Cavell

No fucking way. 

Without hesitation you swiftly moved the mouse to hover over the next sim, a teenage girl who had dark brown hair.

Delilah Y/l/n-Cavell

A smug smile had appeared on your lips as your eyes gazed over to the two final remain sims. Promptly you clicked onto the next sim this time, which teleported you  over to where the sim was.

Your eyes widened as you noticed the name and what the sim was doing.

Y/n L/n-Cavell was the name given to the sim that you couldn't see since it was woohooing the last sim.

You purse your lips as you stifle a laugh, much slower than before you moved to hover the mouse over the final sim which heavily resembled Vada's face.

Not to your surprise, the name 'Vada Yl/n-Cavell' appeared as the mouse hovered over the sim. 

Just as you read the name a frantic Vada flung the door open as she practically dived in your direction, slamming the laptop closed on your lap.

With Vada half on you, half not, your eyes travelled down to her face, where you couldn't see her beauty since she was hiding it on the mattress next to your thigh. 

"Please tell me you didn't see a thing." She begged through a muffled voice, you closed your eyes for a few seconds as you tried to not let out a laugh.

Swallowing any hint of laughter you said: "I didn't see anything," A small snort of laughter escaped as you muttered. "Mrs Y/l/n-Cavell." 

Vada groaned loudly as she hid her face further into the bed, throwing her hands over her head as she tried to hide herself even further.

"I think it's adorable!" You said as you managed to stifle most of the laughter, Vada violently shook her head. "You're just saying that."

"No I'm not." Vada lifted her head as she gave you an unamused expression. "You're laughing."

"I'm not." You told her with a serious expression, the corners of your lift kept lifting as you fought a smile. "I just didn't expect to see a sim version of myself fucking a sim version of you." You managed to get halfway through the sentence before you let out a deep laugh, instantly covering your mouth with your hand to try to hide it. 

Vada groaned as she slammed her head back down to hide in the duvet. "I'm never showing you my face ever again." Vada declared to you, you smiled as you positioned your hand on top of Vada's hand.

"And how exactly are you planning to never show your face to me again?" You taunted her with a grin. 

"I'll just wear a mask everywhere like that weird Minecraft streamer." Vada exaggerated through a muffled voice as you tried hiding your laughter.

You shook your head mostly to yourself to try to stop laughing as you looked down at Vada. 

"And deprive me of that pretty face of yours?" Vada nodded her head, her head still hid in the sheets. "Yes. You better start getting ready to bang me with a mask on for the rest of your life."

"Is it at least a ghostface mask?" 

Vada stayed silent for a few moments, as if the words you said had actually gotten to her, before she shook her head.

"No! Making me horny won't make me forget about this." 

You mentally reminded yourself to carry on that conversation another time with Vada.  

"Vada, I promise you, it's not that bad. It's actually cute as shit." You insisted with no laughter that time, Vada slowly picked up her head to look up at you.

Her eyes narrowed on yours as she leaned against your thigh. "You're not bullshitting me?"

You smiled as you nodded your head enthusiastically at your girlfriend. "I'd never lie to you."

"It's still embarrassing." Vada whined as she snuggled further into your clothed thigh. You laughed lowly as you removed the laptop off of your lap, placing it onto the empty space next to you.

"The most embarrassing thing about it is that you actually think I'd let you name our child Tod." You jested with a humorous grin. 

Honestly, you didn't know what was going through Vada's choosing the name Tod. You'd rather name your child Howard, a name you more than less hate.

Vada gave you a hurt look as she perched up on your thigh to be able to get a better look of you.

"Tod is a magnificent name. You'd probably name our child something nerdy like Peter." Your smile shifted to give Vada a dirty look at her words. Just because I love Spider-Man, you thought to yourself with a groan.

"There's nothing wrong with the name Peter, meanwhile there's everything wrong with the name Tod." You argued light-heartedly, the corners of Vada's lips twitched upwards, she was trying to fight her smile.

Pride withered in you at that, Vada was starting to feel less embarrassed at the whole situation.

Raising her eyebrows she gazed into your eyes. "Fine. We'll just have to name our child something absolutely ridiculous then." 

You smiled amusedly as you nodded your head as if heavily interested in the conversation. "Oh yeah? Like what?" 

Vada pursed her lips for a few moments as she glanced away from your eyes, deep in thought. As if she had figured out a top secret code, Vada returned her eyes to lock with yours, joy swirling around in her eyes.

"Donut." Vada assured with a nod of her head. You stifled a laugh as you cocked your head to the side like a husky. "Donut?" You repeated in a teasing tone.

She nodded her head confidently. "Donut; the second love of my life." Vada confirmed with a goofy grin on her face. 

You smirked, your free hand moving to rest on Vada's scalp as you played with her soft hair. "Who's your first love then?" 

"C'mon you already know the answer to that. It's obviously Bela Dimitrescu." Without hesitation you shoved Vada's head down with the hand that was on her head.

Vada laughed as she dodged your hand as she moved it so the side, landing her head back down on the top of your thigh. "Don't worry, baby. You'll always be my number one girl."

You narrowed your eyes. "Even over Bela?"

She nodded curtly against your thigh. "Even over Bela Dimitrescu."

"What about Lady Dimitrescu?" 

Vada hissed as she closed her eyes momentarily before reopening them. "That's a tough one." 

You sighed as you nodded your head in agreement. "Alright I'll give you that since she is so fine."

"So fucking fine." Vada whispered in agreement.

You smiled at Vada who beamed back at you with joy, a true sight for the sore eyes.

"How about instead of watching a movie we play sims?" Vada grinned as she sat up, grabbing the laptop as she sat by your side. 

"I'm pretty sure my sim just impregnated yours so we can name our third child donut." Vada giggled as she opened the laptop back up.

You gave her a  puzzled look. Vada's sim impregnated yours?

Why the fuck aren't you the one who had a dick? 

"Why do I have to be the pregnant one?" You questioned as Vada began replaying the game. "I give off bigger dick energy than you."

You scoffed loudly at that, rolling your eyes. "Yeah right."

[the-apocrypha]

DVD Bonus Features: Fanfic Edition!

I have like 6k of cut scenes from my last fic (the fourth dimension) and many of them were not cut because they were bad, but because they weren't working with the overall story. Seems a shame to let them languish on Google docs. So, for anyone who might be interested - here's two scenes that didn't make the final cut!

<<<>>>

The hourglass is broken. 

The glass is intact, of course, as is the intricate brass housing Dream had spent so many hours bending and curving into symmetrical spirals. It is the spring plate that forms one of the bases—designed to depress slowly as the weight of sand gathers, thereby stretching a miniature steel coil beneath such that it begins to draw back a tiny gilt hammer. When the full weight of sand is upon it, the catch releases, and the hammer strikes the chime. 

Dream had left the mechanism skeletonized, proud of both the ingenuity and the beauty of the gears he had crafted. This is what allows him to see, today, that even though the sand piles upon the spring plate, the hammer remains stationary. The plate is not depressing.

He has migrated to the window for better light and turned the hourglass every which way. The symmetry of the hourglass means that an identical mechanism exists on the other side, for convenient comparison, and it is from this that Dream is hypothesizing that the issue is perhaps with the pinion gear. 

He will not know for certain until he attempts correction. 

And herein lies the problem, for in a masterful stroke of arrogance on his own part: 

The glass is intact. 

His only options now to access the mechanism are to melt the glass, or strategically break it apart, and in either case hope for both minimal damage to the contents and an aesthetically pleasing repair following the—

“What’s wrong, dove?” 

Or rather, what Hob actually says is hǒu is th' problem, culver?, because Dream is standing in the kitchen next to an abandoned bowl of muesli, because it is breakfast, because during breakfast they speak Middle English. Hob is before him, coffee in one hand, breakfast sandwich in the other. 

“It’s broken,” Dream replies. Is brokæ.

“It’s nearly eight,” Hob replies, eyebrows up. 

Dream abruptly sets the hourglass down. 

“So you noticed the Astrid Alarm was broken,” Hob says, as Dream swings the freezer door open and starts shifting ice packs and frozen pizzas about. “And then you didn’t set a different alarm. You didn’t eat your breakfast. You didn’t pack your bag.” 

“This is unhelpful.”

Hob goes quiet as Dream frantically stuffs notebooks into his backpack, then a water bottle (too light, probably empty), the peas, headphones, and a sweater from the back of a chair that is likely not his own. Three binder clips go into his pocket. All he needs is—

He turns to find Hob waiting, Dream’s wallet in one hand, sandwich in the other, meat now removed. 

Dream accepts both, and heads for the windowsill. 

“No kiss?” Hob complains.

The broken hourglass, too, goes into his bag. 

Dream doubles back, cups the side of Hob’s face more for the sake of injury prevention than tenderness, and presses a quick kiss of gratitude where it belongs. 

The hand on his wrist stays him. 

Hob’s fingers fall comfortably between the three watch bands that lie there, his thumb over Dream’s pulse point. 

“Tonight, five o’clock,” Hob reminds him. 

Dream holds up his other arm in reply, where a fourth watch glints golden. 

“Ah, perfect,” Hob says, beaming. “Hob Fob to the rescue.” 

It is one of the many great failures of Dream’s life, that this nickname has persisted. 

“Five,” Dream agrees, and pulls his hand free. “You will be wonderful.” 

“Best in my age group,” Hob agrees proudly, and raises his coffee mug just as Dream turns around to make for the door. The mug is a custom job from the internet a few years ago, chipped in both paint and porcelain, but the original black with white lettering can still be read: 

It does not belong to Hob. 

WORLD’S 

LEAST 

PUNCTUAL 

WATCHMAKER 

<<<>>>

(Originally there was an OC named Astrid that Dream would birdwatch with every morning, and Hob had a piano recital in the evening. Obviously these plot points went, and so the breakfast scene had to be rewritten.)

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. 

It cannot feel the sun moving across the sky. It does not know the axis of the Earth, nor the ellipsis of its orbit. It does not reach into the fabric of the universe and pluck divine truth from the red-shift coefficient of the galaxies that hurtle through space as afterthought projectiles of the origin of existence. 

A watch begins with a mainspring—or perhaps a quartz crystal, or microscopic solar panels—but traditionally, a mainspring. This is where the potential energy is stored, to be released as the kinetic energy that will drive the gears to turn the escapement, which is what moves the hands of the watch forward, and would do so without rhythm or reason were it not for the staying hands of the balance wheel. 

The balance wheel is the best part of a watch. The most precise. The most expensive, for the precious gems encrusted upon it that almost entirely eliminate the enemy of constancy: friction. It is what decides the length of a second, for it is what checks the urgency of the marching army of gears that say go go go go go and instead says no. It says, stop. For one thousand milliseconds or one million microseconds or one trillion picoseconds, it holds the entire watch in perfect stillness. 

Then the second hand ticks over. The next interval begins. 

On, and on, and on, and on, it goes. 

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. It is a mindless contraption, a work of metal and stone and glass, and it grinds inexorably forward with a steady tick, tick, tick, tick, tick that may at first listen sound like the drumbeats of progress. But listen closer. Listen carefully. 

It is not a ticking that you hear. It is one small gear, striking back against the machine, protesting, crying out again and again: wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

(I liked this little meditation on the nature of watches, but it's a few shades off from my central thesis, and in the end was not needed.)

And that's it! Alas, sometimes good pieces must be sacrificed in the name of a greater project.

[lothcatthree]

1. !!!! TELL ME ABOUT PASTRY CHEF CODY !!! Finally he has some peace.

AHHH sorry this took a few days, i was inundated with other WIP's (i'll be answering the other ones soon, too)

@insertmeaningfulusername and @merlyn-bane my darlings, were also interested in this one <3

basically, obi-wan is an exceptionally tired 30yo high school teacher and he begins frequenting a coffee/pastry shop run by cody and rex. ahsoka and anakin are younger adopted siblings (still working out the whole family dynamic). obi-wan gets flustered every time he talks to cody and ahsoka and rex finds it exceedingly hilarious.

this will be a classic strangers to friends to lovers fic and is meant to be fun and wholesome :)

here's a snippet of their meeting ft. gay disaster obi-wan (got a little carried away with it)

“Can I get you anything?”

Obi-Wan is vaguely aware of a voice speaking to him from the counter, but it’s helplessly bouncing around in his empty skull like a ping-pong ball. Any rational thought he had has been sucked out the airlock of his mouth as he’s cut off mid-sentence once he spots the man just behind the register, leaning over a table as he works.

The first thing that Obi-Wan notices is hands. Bronzed long fingers and structured tendons jumping as they knead a slab of dough and Obi-Wan suddenly wonders why he feels warm in the neck. There’s flour all over the man’s knuckles, up his wrists, dirtying the hem of the black sleeves. 

Obi-Wan helplessly watches as the man rolls up his sleeves and grimaces in effort, entirely engrossed with breaking down this piece of dough and, subsequently, Obi-Wan. Rolling up the sleeves would be one thing (and it really is one thing), but there’s miles of black ink swirling around two muscular forearms.

Obi-Wan’s eyes follow the arms up to find broad shoulders and a face with smooth skin, a handsome nose, a jagged scar, and fuck, those eyes. 

He’s just dropped his gaze to the man’s lips when he realizes, far too late, that they've moved.

A sharp elbow jabs into his side and he looks down at the perpetrator.

“What do you want?” Ahsoka asks him with an edge of teenaged irritation in her voice, but her eyes are slightly widened in concern.

Right. He’s supposed to order something.

Something that’s not the devastatingly beautiful man with devastatingly beautiful hands.

Still struggling to get his thoughts into order and feeling an awful blush overtake his pale skin, Obi-Wan stutters.

“Uh..”

“He wants a cup of earl grey and...,” Ahsoka trails off for a moment, scanning the pastry case, “A cinnamon roll.”

Obi-Wan would snort if he still weren’t so flustered and working on averting his gaze from the men behind the counter. The cinnamon roll is, in fact, not for him and entirely for her.

He finally looks up from the way he was burning a hole into the wooden counter and meets the eyes of the man working the register. This one is similarly pretty, though with blonde hair buzzed short and bare arms. Obi-Wan sends a silent thank you for the lack of tattoos, or else he’d be embarrassing himself all over again.

“It’ll be $7.36,” the man tells him and fuck if that isn’t an accent. 

Obi-Wan begins to pull his wallet out of his pocket and distantly hopes the one behind the counter doesn’t have the same one because then Obi-Wan is sure he’d-

“Just charge ‘em for the tea, Rex. I don’t know how good the new recipe is for the roll,” the man at the table pipes up behind- Rex- with, indeed, the same accent and a deep, raspy voice. Obi-Wan promptly drops his wallet.

He curses under his breath and swoops down to grab it, feeling the redness on his skin take on a new, fiery shade. Obi-Wan opens the worn brown leather wallet and pulls out his debit card, thrusting it forward to Rex at a speed that’s certainly not normal.

“It’s alright, I can pay for it,” Obi-Wan clears his throat when his voice comes out weak.

Rex looks at him with a slight furrow to his brows, then he turns around to look at the other man. Obi-Wan follows his gaze and when he locks eyes with the pastry chef (what shade of brown is that and why does Obi-Wan want to bathe in it?), he swallows again.

“Really, it’s ok. These ones are for testing,” the man replies, offering a warm smile. Obi-Wan can’t stop from dropping his eyes to the soft-looking lips as the man shifts his gaze from Obi-Wan to Ahsoka, “As long as you tell me what’s wrong with it, yeah? I have a feeling you’re a professional.”

Obi-Wan turns to look at her and he’s half-shocked when her signature pubescent scowl is replaced with a genuine smile that she usually reserves for Obi-Wan or Anakin.

“I will,” Ahsoka nods and bounces on her heels.

Obi-Wan fondly smiles at her and resists the urge to ruffle the top of her hair (last time he did that, he received a bite mark on his hand that took a week to heal).

Rex clears his throat and says with a polite smile, “Alright, Cody says it’s $3.25, then.”

Cody. CodyCodyCody. 

Obi-Wan hands him his card and darts his eyes to Cody just behind Rex’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan says with a small smile, trying the name out on his tongue.

Cody gives him another dazzling grin that makes Obi-Wan’s stomach flip before he goes back to aggressively kneading the dough. Obi-Wan feels his mouth dry up again as he takes his card and receipt from Rex, allowing Ahsoka to not-so-lightly shove him away from the counter and towards a table.

"What is wrong with you?" Ahsoka mutters under her breath as she herds him into a chair.

Obi-Wan sets his bag on the table and helplessly looks over his shoulder to watch Cody begin separating the dough into chunks.

"A lot, I think."

[sotwk]

Me when I saw Bucky Barnes was one of the Special Guest Blorbos:

Bucky Barnes for Summertime Drabbles pleeeaassee 😁

Thank you for the request, @morethantheycansay! <3 If I go full-on Bucky Barnes stan, I will have you to blame thank! XD Your constant support of my writing means the world and helps a lot!

Content/Genre: Marvel; Gen fluffy summer romance

To Read on Ao3: LINK

PRICELESS

Bucky Barnes x Reader

“They’re just scams, all of them,” Bucky grumbled, dragging his feet as you tugged him in the direction of the county fair midway. A wide alley of garishly colored and brightly lit stalls competed for the attention of passers-by, with hawkers yelling out invitations to play amid the clamor of electronic bells and blaring buzzers.

You pointed at a toddler rolling by in a parent-drawn Radio Flyer, jubilantly hugging an oversized Spiderman plush toy. “If people are still somehow able to win, then they can’t entirely be scams.” You linked your arm with his and snuggled up close, which softened his resistance to being led through the noisy crowd. “They’re just made to be, um, challenging!” He snorted at your assessment, and your retort of jabbing an elbow into his ribs went barely noticed. 

“Oooh! I want to try this one!” You broke away abruptly to dash toward a quieter, less ostentatiously decorated booth, where aluminum milk bottles were stacked up on a line of pedestals. The attendant, a ruddy-faced, heavyset fellow, beamed at your arrival. 

“Three throws for ten credits,” he announced, holding up a pair of softballs. 

“Huh?” Bucky froze with his hand in the back pocket of his jeans, in the middle of digging out his wallet for cash payment.  

“No worries, I’ve got it.” You held out the neon green band around your wrist, and the attendant promptly scanned the barcode. Grasping the first ball, you turned to smile at Bucky, only to find him sporting that brooding scowl he promised he was still learning to keep out of your dates. 

“Ten bucks for three chances, you gotta be joking,” he muttered, having figured out what the pre-loaded credits you discreetly purchased cost.

“It’s fine, really. For the priceless memories, remember?” You hoped this wouldn’t trigger another overdrawn tirade about how it was criminal to charge so much for family-friendly entertainment, and how county fair admission cost next to nothing back in his day. (“Back in 1939?” you gently reminded him of his last fair experience.) 

He stared at you, at the little pout puppy-dog-eyes combo you put up for his benefit, and finally cracked a smile. “Right. Show off that arm, then.”

You stepped up to the line marker and drew back your arm for the first throw. Thunk. Too low. You struck the platform base solidly, but noticed that the little pyramid of bottles didn't even wiggle.

In your second throw, the ball caught the top bottle and knocked it off the stack.  You threw up your hands with a triumphant hoot, but the attendant was quick to remind you that you needed to knock over all three bottles for the big win.

Feeling a little more pressure (and admittedly pessimistic), you reached for the last ball. Bucky's gloved hand snatched it up first. 

“May I?”

You couldn't even remember if you nodded or said anything to indicate consent. You would only remember the sharp gleam in his eyes and the hard line of his clenched jaw. 

The rocket force of Bucky's throw blew all three bottles clear off the pedestal and smacked into the back of the booth with a crack, leaving a souvenir on the wooden paneling.

You walked off still mildly dazed with a giant Bluey stuffie clutched to your chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky finally blurted out. “I should have let you take the last shot, I know you like doing these things for yourself. But it was torture watching that guy take you for a ride. I had to either throw the ball or slap that smirk off his face.”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his hair and looked at you again, his excuses trailing off. “Aw hell, let’s face it. In the end I really just wanted to win you that ridiculously large teddy bear.”

“It’s a dog, actually. An Australian Cattle Dog.”

“It would need its own plane ticket.” He sighed. “Whatever. Again, I'm sorry.”

“Quit apologizing.” You reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “Did you have fun doing it?”

Bucky shrugged. “Gotta admit, it was a lot more satisfying than my last time at a fair.” Drawing you slowly into his arms, he gave a low chuckle. “In 1939.”

“Sounds like a great new memory.” You smiled and slid a hand around the back of his neck. “Mission accomplished, Sergeant,” you murmured before pressing your lips to his, in a kiss that he returned with twice the enthusiasm. 

“Let me win you every damn prize in this carnival,” he said, still slightly breathless after he broke off, that spine-tingling gleam reinvigorated in his piercing eyes. “Turn these fixed games around and con the swindlers right back.”

You bit your lip, the eager tone in his voice giving you pause. Would it be ethical to unleash a hungry White Wolf with a tireless metal arm on these game hawkers? 

“I do have that toy drive at work coming up in a few months.”

“My girl.” Bucky grinned and looped an arm around your waist to drop a sloppy kiss on your temple that made you squeal. “Point me to the next sucker.”

Steve: You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck? Bucky: Was that the time you used our train money to buy hotdogs? Steve: You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead. Captain America: Civil War (2016)

This limited edition Marvel fic is a gift written as part of SotWK's Summer Campfire Sleepover 2024.

[amazingmsme]

So What’s the Big Deal?

AN: this is for that one anon a while back that was asking for more wwdits fics, the nuzzling prompt was perfect for namdermo fluff! Hope y’all enjoy, here’s day 8!

Guillermo thought that maybe, just once, it might be different. His... he was hesitant to use the word friends right now, so let's just say his roommates had been fairly reasonable with him lately, especially in comparison to his early years as a familiar. Nandor wasn't completely distant anymore, and he occasionally showed some semblance of affection. Colin Robinson didn't always drain his energy, and even Lazlo and Nadja started to use his real name!

... Most of the time. But Gizmo wasn't the worst, as far as nicknames were concerned.

He let out a deep sigh. Did Gizmo even qualify as a nickname? That sort of thing had always seemed like a fun in joke, where your friends gave you a cooler name than your own because they liked you, or it fits your personality better. They called him Gizmo because they couldn't bother to learn his real name for the longest time.

Most of the time he was the butler, the babysitter, the maid, but sometimes, they really made him feel like their pet.

Lazlo wouldn't stop fucking whistling at him. He had just told him he was busy, and now he was determined to make him drop his current task just to make him start a new one.

"Oh my god, what?" he cried out in frustration.

"Oh good, those ears of yours do work."

"Did you need something Lazlo?" It was best to cut to the chase with this lot.

"I do indeed! You see, a very large, very dead rat appears to have crawled inside the engine of my automobile, and you get to fish it out!" he finished with a smile, poking Guillermo's arm for emphasis.

"Ew, no! I'm busy, Nandor told me to have this done by the time he gets back. And besides, I have an order I need to go pick up."

"Come on Gizmo, it'll only take a second!" Lazlo insisted.

"I said no!"

"That's the spirit! Follow me!" He completely ignored Guillermo's protests and drug him away by the wrist, leading him to the garage.

~~~

It wasn't a rat, and it definitely wasn't dead. The possum had sprung to life as soon as Guillermo tried to lift it by its tail. It hissed and thrashed in his grip, scratching all the way up his arm, slicing through the thin rubber gloves he was wearing. He yelled out in pain and dropped the creature straight back into the engine. It flopped around on the inner mechanics before launching itself straight at Guillermo.

Lucky, he was able to catch it mid air just before it could latch onto his face and tear him to shreds. It still reached out for him, hissing and snarling in his face and lunging against his grasp.

Lazlo did nothing but watch as he wrangled the possum into a trash can and carry it outside. Okay, he held the door open for him, but he literally did nothing to actually help.

He didn't even say thank you!

Guillermo tried to calm himself down as he walked to the nearby bakery. The poor cashier gave him a concerned look when he walked in covered in bloody scratches.

"Possum," he explained bluntly and she nodded in understanding.

"Ah. Well, I hope this makes up for it!" she chirped in her customer service voice. He smiled politely.

"You and me both." He grabbed his bag and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

“Thank you, have a nice day!"

"Thanks, you too."

"And happy birthday!"

Guillermo paused with his hand on the door. That was the first time he'd heard that today.

"Thank you." He quickly rushed out before he burst into tears from a perfectly normal interaction. He didn't expect those words to hit him so hard, but hey, it's been a rough day.

He was relieved when he got home. He wanted nothing more than to rush off to his room before any of the vampires saw him and demanded his attention. Thankfully, no one seemed to be awake yet. What the hell, it was his birthday, a little pizza wouldn't hurt. It was still a few hours before sunset, so the delivery guy should be fine.

He placed his order and began the arduous task of deciding what to watch. He browsed through the downloaded movies on his laptop, pausing when he came across Sixteen Candles. How fitting...

He always did like that movie. And it at least felt festive for the occasion.

He clicked play and nestled into a hoard of blankets and pillows, keeping an eye out for his delivery.

He was halfway back to his room, pizza box in hand when he ran into Nandor, still in his sleeping robes.

"Guillermo, there you are!"

He was so close to the freedom of his room.

"Hello Master."

"I heard about what happened with the giant rat," Nandor began in his own form of apology.

"It was a possum."

"Same thing. Are you okay?" he asked, tilting his head as he took a step forward.

"Yeah, I just finished cleaning the scratches." Guillermo tried to step around him. "But I'm actually watching a movie right now, so..." he trailed off, excusing himself.

"Really? What's it about?" Nandor asked, deciding to follow him to his room. Well, if he really wanted to know...

"This girl's whole family forgets her 16th birthday, which is, like, a big deal for humans, all because her older sister's getting married the next day. But hey, at least they had a good excuse." His tone was a little harsher than necessary, and he made his annoyance clear when Nandor invited himself into his room.

"Oh please, I'm sure someone remembered," he said flippantly. Guillermo barked out a laugh.

"That's rich, coming from you."

Nandor's brows knit together in concern. "Guillermo, what's wrong?"

"You really don't know what day it is, do you?" he asked, hanging on to the last bit of hope.

"... Tuesday?"

"It's my birthday!" Guillermo didn’t like how long it was taking him to respond.

"So, like, what's the big deal?" God, he hated just how clueless Nandor could be.

"Get out," he said calmly, pointing at the door.

"Wait-" Nandor called out, and Guillermo looked at him expectantly. "Is it really your birthday?" he asked sheepishly.

He nodded, arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, it is. But I know you guys don't really care about that sort of thing, so it's fine." He turned away, grabbing a slice of pizza to indicate the discussion was over.

So why was he still standing there?

"Guillermo... Are you mad at me?" Of course that’s all he cared about. And he really didn't want to deal with this right now.

"No Master, I'm just tired. So can I please just watch my movie?"

Nandor didn't know what to think. Sure, Guillermo said he wasn't angry, but his whole demeanor said otherwise. He was hesitant to leave if he upset him.

"Of course! You know, I too enjoy a good moving picture," Nandor wandered closer to the bed, peering down at the screen. Guillermo sighed.

"Do you want to watch it?"

"Thank you, I'd love to!" Nandor exclaimed and immediately flopped down next to Guillermo, taking up a fair amount of space on the bed. He adjusted himself until he was comfortable before resting his chin on his shoulder to see the screen better.

Well, maybe this day wasn't the worst.

He hadn't been very far into the movie, so he played it from the beginning for Nandor's sake. This almost felt... nice. Normal. But in the back of his mind, he knew Nandor was only doing this because he felt guilty.

The vampire shifted in his seat, hugging him closer and nuzzling into his neck slightly. Guillermo tried to scrunch his neck, lips twitching into a smile. Nandor's beard was scratching against a particularly sensitive spot right behind his ear. Finally, it grew to be too much,  and Guillermo had to shove him away.

"Stohop! That really tickles!"

The silence that followed sent a chill up Guillermo's spine.

"I'm sorry, it really what?" he asked deviously, flashing his fangs with an evil grin. Before his familiar could answer properly, he buried his face in his neck, drawing out a shrill squeal instead.

"Nohohothihing! Just forget ihihit!" he cried frantically, desperately clawing at Nandor's arms wrapped around him. That rough beard returned to the soft skin of his neck, and a hand flew up to hide his blushing face. He wasn't even facing him, but he felt he needed to hide.

"Nooo, I don't think sooo!" he cooed directly in Guillermo's ear; the hot breath and rough stubble sent goosebumps across his whole body. He was downright mortified when he felt fangs trace and nibble just below his jaw, and he immediately snorted.

"Nohoho, plehehease!" he whined as Nandor wrestled his arms down to his sides, leaving him utterly defenseless. He began nuzzling against the nape of his neck and behind his ears, growling and nipping just to hear the frantic jump in laughter each time.

"What an adorable weakness for you to have! You better hope Nadja and Lazlo don't find out about this, they love themselves a helpless, ticklish neck," he taunted, and Guillermo could practically hear his grin.

Fuck. "Dohohon't you dahare tehehell them!" he tried to sound threatening, but it wasn't coming across as planned.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on sharing," he set his worries at ease, but he honestly didn't know if that would be worse.

"Nahahandor! Just lehehet mehe gohohoho!"

"It's funny, hundreds of men said the exact same thing, and it never saved them. Then again, they weren't laughing like you are."

"Just kihihill mehehehe!" he yelled dramatically, and Nandor couldn't help but chuckle along.

"On your birthday? I couldn't! But you might wish you were dead by the time I'm through with you!" he threatened.

"M-mahaster, plehehease!" Guillermo could only squeal and thrash as he was tickled from behind. His pleading went ignored, and Nandor nuzzled deeper against his neck, causing him to let out an adorable gasp. His nose scrunched and he snickered and shook his head back and forth.  The not quite so unbearable torture persisted.

He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He couldn't believe Nandor actually felt bad for forgetting his birthday, and was trying to cheer him up. He could deny it all he wants, but Guillermo knows that's why he's really doing this. Then again, his master loves having any kind of power over someone, so he'll take that with a grain of salt. But he was being gentle with him; he was intentionally being playful. In his fuzzy, giggly mindset, that had to mean something.

And then curious, probing hands slipped under his sweater, and all those nice thoughts flew out the window because now Nandor was kneading his hips and belly. He barked out a surprised laugh, hands flapping by his sides where they were pinned. He managed to slip an arm free, weakly tugging at the invading hands.

"Uh oh, we can't have that," Nandor muttered as he pinned his arm above his head. Guillermo shook his head frantically as nervous giggles spilled past his lips.

"Nohoho! Nahandor, plehehease! It tickles!" he begged, and he could feel the smile pressed against his neck stretch wider.

"Oh my sweet Guillermo, the real tickling hasn't even started yet," he taunted, relishing in the choked yelp that caught itself in his victim's throat.

He didn't have time to question what that meant before he was screaming in laughter. Nandor hugged him closer as one hand dug in his exposed pit while he blew a relentless onslaught of raspberries on his neck.

This was shaping up to be a long night.

[gerrystamour]

that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of [chapter one]

Written for: Lex's Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge Prompt: Skinny Dipping

Explicit★Steddissy★In Progress

They were absolutely insane; Eddie was certain of it as he parked the van and cut the engine. Steve was sitting on the passenger seat, tapping his cell phone against his inner thigh, while Chrissy was practically vibrating on the bench between them, her grin huge. This is part of my second fill for @thefreakandthehair Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge! CW: Steddissy, Dom/sub dynamics, Good Boy Eddie, Soft Dom Steve, Soft Dom Chrissy, Transmasculine Steve, light CBT, Skinny Dipping, Public Sex, Modern AU, Drug Use (Edibles)

[ READ ON AO3 ]

They were absolutely insane; Eddie was certain of it as he parked the van and cut the engine. Steve was sitting on the passenger seat, tapping his cell phone against his inner thigh, while Chrissy was practically vibrating on the bench between them, her grin huge.

“We should leave any of our, like, identifiable shit in here,” Eddie suggested as Steve opened the passenger door.

Chrissy, in her barely contained excitement, was already scrambling over Steve’s lap to get out. She had said something about racing them when they parked the van, and Eddie guessed that meant now. They had partaken in some high-quality edibles, and Chrissy was always a bit hyper when the special gummies came out.

Steve caught her wrist and she immediately giggled and swooped in to kiss him. Anyone else watching would think it was sweet, basically chaste, but Eddie knew better. Sure the kiss was slow, almost shy, but the way Chrissy arched her back, pressing her chest into Steve’s said otherwise. Add onto the fact that Chrissy wasn’t wearing a bra…

“Hey! C’mon now, this was y’all’s idea! We’re not driving all the way out here just to fuck in the van,” Eddie said, snapping his fingers at both of them.

Steve and Chrissy pulled away from each other reluctantly, and Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away from their shiny, wet lips.

“What were you saying, Eds? About leaving stuff here?” Steve asked, tilting his head as Chrissy leaned in to kiss his neck.

“Like phones, wallets, y’know. Just in case we get caught and we drop shit,” Eddie replied, lifting his ass to get his wallet out of his back pocket. He also took off his rings before leaning over to open the glove box.

“You’re a genius, Eds,” Steve sighed, catching Eddie’s chin as he moved to sit back up and guided him into a hungry kiss that immediately overwrote any thoughts of protesting.

It wasn’t until Chrissy slid off of Steve’s lap and out of the van that they pulled away for air.

“Luckily for me, I’m in my pajamas, which means I still get my head start!” Chrissy said brightly, her grin huge before she took off. She was fast, even high and wearing flip-flops, her legs long and powerful—well, long for her height, at least.

Snapping out of their thoughts as they watched Chrissy run off in her tiny shorts and tank top, Steve pulled his own wallet out of his jeans pocket and tossed it along with his own cell phone into the glove box.

“I’m not a genius, Steve, I’m a criminal,” Eddie said quickly, squawking a bit when Steve grabbed his face and pulled him into another kiss.

“Uh-huh,” Steve said as he pulled back and smooched Eddie’s nose before sliding out of the van. “C’mon, she’s gonna get cold if she stands out there too long and makes us go home.”

Sure enough, as they reached their destination—several blocks away from where they parked, of course—Chrissy was already rubbing her arms and pouting a bit at them.

“What took you so long?” she groused, sighing when Eddie wrapped her up in his arms and held her tight while Steve led them around to the back gate. It was a little difficult to walk holding her, but they always seemed to manage somehow—it really did help that Chrissy was so much shorter than him.

“You know how to pick locks, Harrington?” Eddie asked as Steve eyed the lock and reached into his pocket.

“I mean, yeah, but I might not have to,” Steve replied with a broad smirk as he pulled his keychain out and singled out a big key. Eddie had always wondered what that one was for. Apparently, it was for Hawkins Public Pool?

Steve slid the key in and tried it, and the lock turned. Letting out a triumphant little hiss of a cheer, Steve opened the gate and motioned them through.

“How do you have a key to the pool?” Chrissy asked with a little giggle, delighted as they hurried around the building to the pool deck.

“I thought we were doing this because, and I quote, it’s only fun if we’re not allowed to be there?” Eddie added with a raised eyebrow, doing exaggerated air quotes in the way he knew would get a laugh out of both of his partners.

“I used to be a lifeguard here, and I just… never gave my key back,” Steve said with a shrug, slipping his keys back into his pocket before pulling his shirt over his head. Once he was shirtless, hair a wild mess around his head, he turned one of his classic, heart-breaker smirks on Eddie and said, “And just because I have a key doesn’t mean we’re doing anything less illegal, yeah?”

Eddie blinked at Steve before looking at Chrissy in bewilderment. “Hopper was right, I am a terrible influence,” he said in a daze and Chrissy just laughed, covering her mouth and snorting as she tried to keep her laughter quiet.

“C’mon, let’s get swimming,” Steve said, rolling his eyes as he kicked off his sandals and undid his fly.

In a flurry of motion, Eddie and Chrissy started to strip, though Eddie stopped while he was still in his boxers. When he looked at Chrissy, she was still wearing her tank top and panties. Glancing at Steve, Eddie had to do a double-take because—yeah, yep, Steve Harrington was buck-ass naked in the moonlight at Hawkins Public Pool.

When Steve looked at them as he stepped up to the edge of the pool, he scoffed. “I thought we were skinny dipping, cowards,” he teased lightheartedly before jumping in.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other a bit nervously, but then Chrissy just shrugged and pulled her tank top off. Struck by the sight of her naked tits, Eddie stood there in stunned silence as she finished slipping out of her underwear and jumped in after Steve. Shaking himself out of his stupor and willing his body to calm down, Eddie shoved his boxers down and jumped in.

The temperature of the water was definitely enough to take care of whatever downstairs situation was starting, that was for sure.

“Oh, fuck, it’s cold,” Eddie gasped as his head broke the surface, pouting when Chrissy and Steve just laughed at him. Crossing his arms and shivering, Eddie whined, “I’m freezing my dick off and you’re laughing at me?”

“Get moving and you’ll warm up, Munson,” Steve said flatly, completely unsympathetic as he started doing fucking laps like the goddamn jock that he was. If Eddie wasn’t so into him doing jock things, he would be so annoyed at that moment. However, as it was, the cold water wasn’t going to keep Eddie Junior in check for very long.

“C’mon, Eddie, let’s swim a bit,” Chrissy cooed in his ear, jolting Eddie out of his increasingly horny thoughts, but when he turned his gaze toward her, he just started thinking about her instead.

She was so beautiful, grinning up at him with her hair wet and slicked back, the swells of her tits just barely breaking the surface of the water. They only had the light from the moon and one of the lights in the parking lot to see by, but it was more than enough. Especially with his memories of her body in broad daylight, laid out on the sheets of her bed, flushed and gorgeous. What he couldn’t see right now, he still remembered. When he didn’t respond, Chrissy stood up properly and swam close to Eddie, her softness pressed flush against his front as she slid her hands up to rest on his chest.

Eddie held his breath, one hand cupping her cheek as Chrissy tilted her head back, glancing at his lips before a mischievous smirk passed over her features.

Before he could even react to the change in her expression, Eddie found himself underwater, the lingering feeling of Chrissy’s shove still lighting up his chest. He could hear her peals of laughter through the water, and even through his indignation he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Without surfacing, Eddie squinted through the water and found Chrissy’s retreating silhouette through the darkness and immediately swam after her. Even though he liked to make fun of sports and most athletic activities, Eddie prided himself in being an excellent swimmer. Steve regularly lamented the fact that Eddie never actually joined the swim team back when they were still in high school.

His arms closed around Chrissy’s waist and he dragged her under, rolling as she thrashed. When they finally surfaced, giggling and breathless, Chrissy was coughing around the mouthful of water she inhaled at the end. Eddie pulled her in tight to his front and kissed her forehead as she caught her breath, and she clung to him, giggles overtaking her as she tipped her head back.

Without hesitation, Eddie grinned and stooped to kiss her, immediately opening for her questing tongue with a low groan. With a little sound against his mouth, Chrissy wrapped her legs around his waist and Eddie’s hands immediately slid down her back to grab two ample handfuls of her ass. Holding her tight as he stood up so they didn’t sink, Eddie deepened the kiss, moaning thickly as he groped her asscheeks roughly, chasing her lips when she pulled away.

Opening his eyes slowly, unsure of when they even closed, Eddie furrowed his brow as Chrissy clasped her hands behind his head and took a dramatic breath, puffing her cheeks out with it. Then she tightened her legs around Eddie’s middle and launched herself backward, her grip on Eddie’s head dragging him forward and into the water once again.

Their second tussle was much more short-lived as that much naked skin against each other had them both distracted, and soon Eddie found himself pinned against the wall of the pool, Chrissy’s demanding mouth on his as he kneaded his handfuls of her ass once again. That’s just where his hands belonged, on her ass, or her hips, feeling the perfect softness there and getting hungrier. He was greedy and possessive in his touches, pulling her against his hardening cock with a desperate whimper.

When she pulled away to catch her breath, Eddie said sternly, “Don’t try to drown me again, Cunningham, I swear to god—”

“I would never try to drown you while you’re grinding a boner against me, baby,” Chrissy cooed comfortingly, nudging Eddie’s chin with her nose until he tipped his head back and allowed her access to his throat. With a low whine, Eddie groped her ass and rocked his hips against her, his entire body shivering with pleasure as she met his movements, her teeth worrying a bruise into his skin.

Then Eddie shuddered as two hands slid between their bodies to squeeze and massage Chrissy’s tits. Her mouth pulled away from Eddie’s throat as she threw her head back, biting her lips to muffle a cry.

When Eddie opened his eyes—again, when did they close?—he watched hungrily as Chrissy rested her head back on Steve’s shoulder, panting softly against his ear as he pinched and plucked at her nipples. Steve met Eddie’s gaze with a little smirk, turning his face to kiss her sloppily, coaxing her tongue into his mouth. For a moment, it wasn’t even a proper kiss, just their tongues meeting each other in quick touches before they both moaned and sealed their mouths together. It was one of Eddie’s favourite sights in the world, his two favourite people kissing each other and making each other feel good. It was intoxicating.

He was so distracted by the picture they made together that Eddie didn’t even notice that one of Steve’s hands had disappeared from Chrissy’s chest. Steve’s firm grip suddenly settling on his hip made him jump slightly before he leaned into it. It was the only warning he got before Steve’s hand went on to sweep across the front of his thigh until it was cupping Eddie’s balls, pulling a sharp whimper from him. Steve’s eyes met his with a smirk against Chrissy’s mouth as he massaged his handful, making Eddie buck and whine.

The movement had his cock slipping from between his and Chrissy’s bodies and right to where her strong legs met, the length of it rubbing teasingly against the seam of her cunt. Shuddering between Steve’s fondling and the teasing friction, Eddie let out a long, high keen.

Pulling away from the kiss, Steve rested his chin on Chrissy’s shoulder and grinned at Eddie, toothy and predatory as his grip on his balls tightened and pulled until he was sobbing at the pleasure-pain.

“Want him inside me,” Chrissy sighed, her own hands resting on Eddie’s chest before plucking at his nipples, playing roughly with the barbells there with her manicured nails. Eddie sobbed and screwed his eyes shut, head tipping back as she pinched his sensitive nipples.

“You think he deserves it, baby?” Steve asked in a low voice and Eddie felt his head go fuzzy with hot static, the blush on his cheeks so warm he felt like he was about to start sweating.

“Not about him. I want a cock in me, and you didn’t bring any of yours,” Chrissy replied, and God being talked about like an object, like he was just a sex toy for them to use, really did something for Eddie.

Steve hummed at that, thoughtful and mocking. “Could give you my fingers?” he offered and Eddie bit his lip against the whimper that was about to tumble from his throat.

He wanted to beg and convince Chrissy that his cock was better than Steve’s fingers, but he knew firsthand that Steve’s fingers were wicked in their accuracy and talents. He was so fucking good with his fingers; it took a month for Eddie to upgrade to one of Steve’s straps when they first started dating. Apparently, Chrissy went three months with only Steve’s fingers at the start of their relationship as well.

Opening his eyes again, he froze at the change in the lighting, at the flashing red and blue of it. Gravel crunched under a tire, and Eddie could hear the squeak of a brake being applied.

“Cops!” Eddie hissed and that immediately snapped them out of it. The three of them swam across the pool and dragged themselves out, scooping up their clothes. Chrissy managed to get her tank top on before they heard a car door shutting.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, still struggling with figuring out his clothes in the dark.

“Just put your damn shoes back on, Harrington. We have to run now,” Eddie hissed, grinning maniacally at Steve’s alarmed expression. He wanted risk, right? With that, Eddie grabbed Chrissy’s hand and ran around the building to the back gate.

As the three of them fled the pool, Steve and Eddie were still completely naked except for their sandals and Crocs respectively, and they heard a shout from inside the fence. Squealing and giggling wildly, they booked it as fast as they could to the van. Eddie didn’t even bother getting into the driver’s seat, just tossed Steve his keys and scrambled up into the van after Chrissy. Steve was a much better getaway driver, thanks to his ability to balance speed with recklessness perfectly.

Steve started the van and immediately pulled away from the curb, speeding down the quiet, dark road with a broad grin on his face, checking the mirrors for lights.

“This was so stupid,” he said with a huff, laughing brightly as he took a corner just a touch too fast and made Chrissy and Eddie slide across the bench and against the passenger door.

Eddie let out an indignant sound as he threw his hands up. “It was your idea!”

Chrissy giggled and Steve just grinned sidelong over at Eddie, making his heart do a series of somersaults. “Yeah, it was,” he said with a smirk before returning his attention to the road.

[ TBC ]

[ READ ON AO3 ]

Taglist! @mylilplanet @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle @stobinesque @spectrum-spectre @judasofsuburbia @connected-dots-st-reblogger @jaxildan @hellion-child @spicysix @starryeyedjanai @sidekick-hero @steddieas-shegoes @yournowheregirl

[peachsukii]

Blast Off

『♡』  fem!reader  x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ aged to 21 | friends to lovers ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 

summary: your favorite metal band is in town, the same one you used to listen to with bakugo back in high school, and you decide to go to the show together! after a long week, a night out in Shibuya is exactly what you need. tags & warnings: brief violence, cursing | friends to lovers, pining, protective bakugo, fluff, first kiss a/n: bakugo would be such a fun person to go to a show with when he’s the one interested! otherwise he’d rather stay home lol ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,714 ꒱

“Yo, you ready yet, dumbass?” Bakugo shouts from your living room, impatiently tapping his foot as he’s waiting for you to finish touching up your makeup in the bathroom.

“Just a sec, Kat!” you call back as you’re leaning over the sink, cleaning up the corner of your eyeliner with a wet cloth.

“Y’don’t even need makeup, dammit!” he retorts, a backhanded compliment to get your ass moving. “Ya probably won’t even -,”

His words die in his throat as you emerge from the hallway and enter the living room.

Woah. She looks fuckin' gorgeous.

You catch him staring as you’re clipping in a pair of earrings. “What? Too much?”

He scoffs as he sneakily checks you out a second time. “Nah, you look great.”

You smile and wink at him. “Thanks, Kat. Right back at ya.”

“If some slimy fucker creeps on you, I’ll punch his lights out.”

You can’t help but snort as his comment.

The outfit you chose to wear fit the scene of the band you were seeing, one of your favorite metal bands that you two would listen to back in high school. It wasn’t too over the top, at least you didn’t think so. An all black ensemble - a thin long sleeve mesh top under your band t-shirt, tucked lazily into a pleather mini-skirt and a pair of tinted sheer tights hugging your legs. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, a few stray pieces of hair framing your face alongside your bangs.

Bakugo wasn’t as dressed up as you were, donning a simple grey t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and black boots. A stack of his favorite bracelets hung on his wrist and a pair of black studs adorned his ears.

“Figure out where you wanna eat?” you ask as you’re looking for your boots in the hallway closet.

“The curry place by the station. We can hop on the train into the city afterwards.”

Boots in hand, you return to the living in room and plop next to him on the couch.

“Those things could squash a damn kid,” Bakugo jokes, pointing to the platforms of your boots as you’re lacing them on your feet.

“They’re literally the same kind you wear on patrol!”

“And you’re still shorter than me with those fuckers on.”

You punch him in the arm, maybe a little too hard, to be playful. “I don’t need to be your height to kick your ass!”

“Ow, shit! Watch it, those hands are fuckin’ deadly!” he scolds, rubbing the reddening mark on his bicep.

“My bad,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder as an apology. “Let’s get outta here.”

-

“Hand it over,” Bakugo orders as you pick up the check from the table, flexing his palm toward you.

“Huh? I told you -,” you start to remind him until he cuts you off mid-explanation.

“Just ‘cause I heard ya doesn’t mean shit. Give it.” He snatches the paper and booklet with one hand while fishing his wallet out of his pocket with the other. “Stop bein’ a brat and let me pay for your damn dinner.”

“I’m not being a brat! I was just trying to treat you to dinner for once,” you say defensively.

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I let you buy the tickets.”

Bakugo consistently paid whenever the two of you would grab food. It didn’t matter what it was - coffee before work, snacks from the convenience store, lunch outings, dinners in the city - he’d shove you aside and take your card, or be the one to order so you don’t have the chance to hand your card over. The few times you did get to pay for him, he immediately sent you the money back. It’s been a consistent staple in your friendship since Junior year of high school.

While leaving the curry shop, you see the train approaching at the station.

“Shit, Kat. That’s the train we need to catch to make it on time!” you utter in a panic as you grab his wrist. “C’mon!”

_

You arrive at the venue an hour before the show starts, giving you both enough time to get inside, grab drinks and find a perfect spot as planned.

Once inside, the two of you make your way over to the bar while the crowd was light.

“Are you at least gonna let me buy you a drink?” You tease, elbowing Bakugo in the arm.

He sighs dramatically, the tell-tale sign that he’s no longer going to fight you on it. “You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous.”

Beers in hand, you both head to the general admission area of the venue and situate yourselves near the back - not too squished between loads of people but close enough to see the stage.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you beam, leaning against him as a token of thanks.

He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “Of course. Woulda been mad if ya didn’t ask me to come see the band we had on repeat together through all those study sessions and sparring matches.”

The lights begin to dim and the crowd cheers as the band takes the stage. He lets you take a step back and shift next to him, but keeps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you cheer in unison and hold up your beers for the band as they set up for their first song.

_

The show has been a goddamn blast! The two of you have been singing and dancing together the whole time, screaming every single lyric. Bakugo loves watching you throw your hands up and yell along with the crowd, having the time of your life and not letting anyone get in your way. It’s infectious - his grin not wavering the entire show.

“We have one more song for the night!” The lead singer announces into the mic. “It’s a special one - thanks for coming out!”

The song they begin to play is one of their slower numbers, one that you know Bakugo adored. You watched as his eyes lit up under the spotlights, taking in the moment as the band progressed through the song. You loop your arm with his, rocking back and forth in unison with the rest of the crowd.

Bakugo removes his arm from your hold to spin you around to face him, pulling you close and holding you to his chest. He gently sways with you in his arms as you embrace him, mimicking a slow dance. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming in his chest alongside the subtle vibrations of him humming to the song. Your eyes flutter closed, absorbing every ounce of love in this moment between the two of you. His hold encased you in a sense of security that you didn’t find with anyone else.

Once the song ends, the band is saying their goodbyes to the crowd as he releases his hold on you.

“I didn’t think they were gonna play that tonight,” you say, smiling up at him. “Guess we gotta buy t-shirts now!”

Bakugo laughs, shaking his head. “Matching ones?”

“It’s either that or we buy one and I constantly steal it from you.”

We?

Bakugo smirked at the suggestion.

“You steal my shit all the time, ya brat,” he teases, pinching your cheek. “I’ll buy two. Which one do y’want?”

“You pick, you have better taste than I do. I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out,” you say as you pat him on the shoulder before skipping off to the bathroom. He heads over to the merch table to stand in line for your t-shirts.

It’s been a good 20 minutes since you wandered off. Bakugo meanders over to the bathrooms, the t-shirts he bought for you both draped over his shoulder. He’s poking around, searching for you in the crowd as he spots your ponytail in a sea of others.

You’re talking with some guy that he doesn’t recognize. The guy slithers into your personal bubble as Bakugo stalks up behind you.

“C’mon doll, you’re fine as hell. Don't you -"

"Beat it, jackass. She's obviously not interested," Bakugo interrupts, stepping to your side.

He scoffs and takes a step back from you. "And who the hell are you?"

"Her boyfriend. Now fuck off."

Your cheeks flare at his comment - did he mean that? Or was that just to get this guy off your back?

You turn to leave as the guy slaps your ass - hard. "Have fun with this loser."

Bakugo doesn't even have time to react before your fist crashes into this guy's jaw, clocking him so hard that he stumbles to the floor. The commotion causes one of the security guards to scurry in your direction, beckoning for you to come over to him.

"Shit, we gotta go!" you yell, interlocking your fingers with Bakugo's as you bolt through the crowd and away from the guard before getting caught.

The two of you manage to escape, rushing out of the venue's exit door and into the busy Shibuya streets. You don't stop running until you round a corner and duck into an alley way, hiding from any potential security that could have tailed you and letting go of his hand.

Out of breath, you lean on to the wall and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"S-shit, sorry Kat, didn't mean to thrash you around like that."

He takes a second before deciding to box you up against the wall with his frame, catching you off guard. "I'm not complain'."

"Boyfriend, huh? Was that your way of asking me out?" you joke, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

Bakugo snickers as he's shutting his eyes, lowering his face to level with your own before your lips meet. The kiss is brief, but enough to get his point across.

"I bought matching band shirts with ya, who the fuck else would I do that shit with?"

You giggle, pulling him back in for another kiss - longer and sweeter than the previous one.

This isn't where you thought the night would end, but you're over the moon.

bakugo just couldn't resist confessing after watching you beat some dude's ass in one punch ;)

Divider by : @/saradika

[daisywords]

five lines tag

thanks @illarian-rambling for tagging me!

Prompts: A line about the weather, A line about a secret, A line said sincerely, A line about a house, A line about water

I'm going to use Fear Me for these, since they seem particularly on theme for that one

A line about the weather:

The rain batters the roof in varying waves of intensity, and Jathan’s rigidness ever-so-gradually washes away. I want to ask him what he thinks is going to happen—but that’s not right. I want to ask him something, but I don’t know what. No, I don’t want to talk about any of it. I just don’t want to be alone.

A line about a secret:

A small rectangle of leather—perhaps a wallet? No, the leather is wrapped around something else. Breathless at my own audacity, I inch the package out of its pocket. To extricate it fully, I have to bend my wrist at the most unnatural of angles.  Kor’s arm pushes back at me when I twist against it, the message of “Stay still, you idiot!” coming through as clearly as if he were smearing it into my mind like you would. 

A line said sincerely:

“I’ve been waiting so long for the moment when I finally get to take you home with me,” says Adira, squeezing my hand. “Did you know I even have room ready just for you?” How could I, when I for most of my life I didn't even know she existed? I wasn’t even sure if she would know that I existed. If only Saref were still alive so I could shake him by the shoulders until everything he didn’t tell us fell out of his mouth.  The image of his wrecked corpse flailing loose-jointed at my violent hands rises unbidden to my mind, and I have to cling to her hand to avoid stumbling.  Room. A room just for me. “How did you know I was coming?” I ask. 

A line about a house:

Home is shining golden in the purple dusk, the prettiest house on the street, leaking warm light from every window. She points it out to me casually as we approach. I imagine our cousin—what was his name? Jathan?—growing up in such a pretty house, staying in one lovely, familiar place all the years of his life. 

A line about water:

It’s snow-runoff cold, and I’m aching and numb in a moment, but I stay put, rubbing at my arm and watching the blood bloom out pink into the clear water. My clothes feel heavy and pull me off balance in the current, so I stumble back and strip them off and throw them onto my rock.  This time I wade out free and dip my head all the way under. The tips of my ears throb with the cold of it.  When I surface I am very awake, so awake it’s dreamlike. 

tagging @thewriteflame @tragicheirs @cc-writes-stuff @the-orangeauthor @akindofmagictoo

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:

A line about the sky

A line said in anger

A line about earth/dirt/mud etc.

A line about a surprise

A line containing foreshadowing