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#and then i realized he absolutely had no respect for me
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GOD I WOULD KILL FOR TF1 DECEPTICON BEE!! The thought of him not wanting to leave Megatron alone after something so horrific warms my heart. I need a fic of them becoming friends. (do you have any more headcanons?)
I really hope to get to writing a fic for this, and I’ll definitely link it if I do! Kinda busy with other fics tho and since one is close to finishing I wanna start it after I’m done with that one
Well first and most obvious headcanon is that Bee has to have some MAJOR respect for D-16/Megatron purely because of that scene with him standing up to Sentinel. Genuinely, seeing Bee watch that had me in the theaters wondering why tf Bee would be horrified by D-16 killing him. B-127 is a better person than me because of I saw one of my friends get CARVED INTO it would be my last straw
My main idea for a Decepticon tf1 Bee story kinda looks like this (warning this gets LONG):
-He sees Megatron and the High Guard leaving, and he can’t believe it. He just got a friend group, he can’t just let it split apart! Especially not like this!
-With a quick number exchange, Bee tells Elita that he’s going with Megatron and it’s nothing personal he just wants to stay with him ok byeeeee
-Elita is kinda baffled, and Optimus absolutely takes it personally but in a sad “wait what if I’m in the wrong, oh no, now I lost two friends” way. Optimus wants to go after him and Megatron but Elita stops him. They both agree it’s probably best to give them all space and let Bee try and figure it out
-Megatron is also baffled that this guy is coming with him, but he feels relieved that at least *someone* familiar agrees with him. He won’t admit it tho, it’s a cold comfort after everything else that’s happened
-The High guard doesn’t really care rn, they just got banished (AGAIN!) and a friend of their new leader is probably good enough to keep around
-I imagine some of them are probably injured (most importantly Megatron), so Soundwave helps them highjack a train where they can take temporary shelter, get supplies/food, and rest. Starscream finds out the base got blown up and appropriately grieves about the loss of his awesome throne. Shockwave is revealed to be the best thing they have to a doctor. Rough times.
-Bee keeps trying to get Megatron to talk about what just happened, but he refuses. Bee eventually talks about how horrible sublevel 50 was because of the isolation, and promises Megatron that he won’t leave him alone
-Still cold comfort to Megatron. He just lost his longest companion, and he knows Bee could never compare. Bee also realizes this, but he’s trying his best
Lotta places the story could go from there, but I wanna keep it as a “Bumblebee inadvertently becomes the moral backbone of the Decepticons” type of story. I also wanna clarify that Bee is still totally down for murder, he just convinces Megatron to keep the guns pointed at the Quintessons for now
He also shares soooo much Decepticon gossip to Optimus and Elita, but never anything that could ever compromise the Decepticons. He’ll be like “You’ll NEVER guess what Skywarp just said today” and Elita will ask for boring stuff like “where are you based” and “are you eating enough” and Bumblebee refuses to have his friendships compromised by politics. Optimus appreciates this, and does the same. Eventually Elita will conform and send him memes
Also Soundwave and Bee become scout friends. This is the law. Bee is one of the only people who will contribute to the community playlist
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growing-fire · 3 months
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New installment of songs i cried to in the car
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one of these days i'll write up a post about the parallels and foils between vivi and hermes and why it fucking kills me. for now all i can say is in hindsight the 'latched onto vivi Hard as a kid' to 'latched onto hermes Hard as an adult' pipeline is Real
#ffix#ffxiv#vivi ornitier#ffxiv hermes#final fantasy xiv#final fantasy ix#the absolute fuckor#hermes really is just such an interesting and visceral deconstruction of/foil to vivi's themes#ranging from *vivi* being the one in the same role as the familiars here#in comparison to hermes meaning the best in the world and trying So Hard; but ultimately coming from a place of immense privilege#and the fact that he was fumbling around in the dark in a society that very aggressively tried to insulate him from any meaningful#perspective on the shitty things he had internalized about familiars without realizing it; much less knowledge to unpack it#and how in the end he still was shitty to and about familiars; including and especially his daughters; who he abused#and some of that stemmed at least partly from his own selfishness and the things he was in denial about#to the fact that vivi had *support* when it came to things like grief and fear and life being precious#and the importance of finding your own meaning in it; while at the same time treating unavoidable death with weight and respect#and people in his life being like 'yeah it's pretty fucking understandable to be fucked up about all this'#instead of at most condescendingly treating him like a freak and an outlier for like. fucking being sad or angry about things. lol#bc *vivi gets angry.* he doesn't just feel sad he gets fucking furious; he feels real ass hate; he wants people to die for what they've done#and when he *does* question that in himself it's not ~uwu if i hate people i'm just as bad as them~; it's 'i've repressed so hard that i#literally have forgotten how to identify what sadness feels like; and it bothers me that my grief response skips straight to hatred now'#i just. god i love vivi so much i could go on. anyway when someone tries to pull a 'familiar-equivalents are soulless puppets#with a single purpose and it's fine to kill them if they're defective or obsolete' vivi tries to explode him with his mind#and his friends go i'll help! and that's why i love ffix#ffixtag#ffxivtag#FF tag
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seventh-district · 7 months
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takes a 5 minute break in the middle of writing a scene to sob over Swan Upon Leda by Hozier
#that’s it that’s the post#Seven.txt#writing stuff#hozier#music stuff#cw assault#assault mention#i am. working on something. and realized that the song could fit well into a scene for extra ✨symbolism✨#so of course i had to go listen to it and add it to the appropriate playlists#thing is i absolutely cannot listen to that song without breaking down in tears so. had a cathartic little cry#mid-writing session. as one does.#i’m sorry but if you expect me to be calm and normal when Hozier is out there being THE Man Ever. it’s not gonna happen#like not to be extreme but i don’t know if there’s another man on earth that i’d feel safer and more respected around#fighting for my life not to put him on a pedestal bc i Know he’s just some guy. he’s just a human like everyone else#but how can i be normal about it when he says women’s bodies have never belonged to angels#so they sure as shit have never belonged to men.#obviously he uses prettier words but. my point stands#comparing men assaulting women to an occupier upon ancient land??? *cries so hard i throw up*#Swan Upon Leda earned the honor of going on the very short list of songs that are too painful for me to listen to as Soon as i heard it#like yeah no i’ll never be able to casually listen to it but that is a Compliment. that means that it means Everything to me#okay anyways. *wipes tears* that’s all i just had to get that out of my system#crawling back into my writing cave now. i shall rejoin the world once this wip is Finished#*whispers* in related news. [N]MbD Sun may be the most insanely overprotective guy on earth but byGOD he never wants to hurt you#anyways eheheeeee back to writing my angst goodbye
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britneyshakespeare · 7 months
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i was hanging out today w a friend i hadn't seen in awhile and kaily and i were catching up on all the drama involving him (my controlling manipulative and abusive ex-friend) and how he keeps going out of his way to ask ppl about where we are and find us and how the only reason i think i get out of it is bc i don't go to the same college as him anymore, i hardly ever leave the house socially and the few ppl i do see all have no connection w him anymore, and i don't work at some place where he can just show up. i work in pre-k-to-12 public schools. my schedule in terms of days/location is irregular anyway, but if some strange adult man shows up for no particular reason and seeks out a female employee, you do not just get let in. that is how you have the cops called on you. but he does know where i live and i have been paranoid about him finding some excuse to show up at my house. i've had legitimate nightmares about that. i never stopped having nightmares about him i'd say at least once every other week and i haven't talked to him in almost six months.
i don't like at all how i don't feel safe in a way that means i have faith that the issue is over; the person is out of my life; our communication will not be renewed against my will once again. bc all of those things have been attempted. i feel safe in a way that means he happens, by circumstance, not to be able to access me in any convenient way to him. any way he could find me (the only way to feasibly do that would be work/home) would be a justification for calling the police. but i don't have any faith that he wouldn't try, because he has shown himself as being capable of being that low. and if i switch jobs or transfer schools finally and he finds out about it, he can just make it an issue there if he so feels like it, and i'm sure he will. he's a monster. he gets some sort of thrill out of making other ppl feel unsafe and having all the control in the situation
#tales from diana#it was very validating to talk to her bc she never really liked him#in fact i used to be so humiliated when i'd bring him to hang out w my older friends#bc he'd go oooon and on and on about how nobody listens to him nobody understands him nobody cares about or appreciates him#and then i'd be like 'oh my friends are good ppl! ill introduce u' and i did. i made the effort to bring him to them a LOT#(and he would make me feel like he envied me for my oh-so-superior life which i most definitely do not have)#but then he would not listen to her not understand her not care about her and not appreciate her#nor any of my friends for that matter. but he was SO disinterested in her in particular in a way that was just sooo disrespectful#he wouldnt let me hold a conversation w her. or let me bring her into a conversation w him. he'd DOMINATE#in general he didn't like me talking to anybody else or anyone talking to anyone else or anyone else talking#ive never seen a man who cared so little about somebody else getting to finish a sentence.#and like there's a lot of adhd in our friend group. we all (myself especially) have our spirited interjections#and occasionally interrupt but we realize when we're doing it and then pull back & let the other person finish#we try to keep other ppl on track w what they were saying when they go on a tangent#you know. we try and communicate effectively#even tho we r not naturally perfect at it lol.#we're adults who respect each other it's almost like!#but yeah. he was only interested in impressing the couple of men in my friend group essentially#he'd talk abt how my two guy friends r cool & how he wants to be closer to them#and i'd stick up for this woman i hung out w today & he had just absolutely no interest in her#she never liked him anyway which was so baller of her. good on her. she detected his rudeness#and that rudeness used to vex me so much. i suppose bc i couldnt bear to see him treat other ppl how he treated me#altho to a much lesser extent w the overt lovebombing he did to me and the traumadumping and intense reliance upon me#he seriously needed my attention 24/7 it didn't matter if i was studying or working or in bed sick for two weeks#literally he and his vapid fucking needs came before everything in my life according to him. always. crazy#the entitlement of that man is ridiculous. so of course he thinks there's nothing wrong w seeking me out#of course.#i wouldnt care if he died
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arttheclown · 1 year
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not 2 to be vague & bitchy (trust me this does not apply to my mutuals i would never) but i can’t wait until i have time to write fic again so i can fill the t.errifier ao3 tag with content that Doesn’t either completely mischaracterize my faves or strip their relationships / personalities of every bit of depth they have lol
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likeumeanit9497 · 5 months
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the re-do | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: y/n participates in the triplets' "dirty q&a" video, where she accidentally infers that her experience losing her virginity to matt back in high school had been mediocre. instead of taking offence, matt makes it his mission to show her just how much he has improved since then.
warnings: SMUT; established friendship; m/f oral; unprotected p in v; dirty talk; 18+
notes: hi guys! this is my first ever one shot so pls be gentle with me (i'm genuinely so terrified to post this). it has absolutely NOT been proof read forgive me, but i hope you all enjoy <333
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“Guys why am I actually nervous to film this?” Nick proclaimed from his place in the backseat of the car beside me. “No I am genuinely so scared right now.” Replied Chris from the seat in front of me as he began passing out our respective orders from McDonalds.
“We can’t act nervous or else the fans are gonna go even crazier than they already will.” Added Nick as Matt adjusted the camera on the dash. “You’re sure you’re gonna be able to handle the inevitable shit talking that’s gonna come from all this?” Matt asked as he turned to face me in the back. I took a deep breath but nodded. “The more they see me the more desensitized they’ll be. They’ll have to eventually get over it.”
As one of the triplet’s closest girl friends, I had been on the receiving end of a fair amount of hate from their fangirls on the internet. Because I had known them since elementary school, I had been a part of many of their earlier videos when their fans had still been pretty chill about our friendship. But over the past year, a new wave of younger fans had found the videos and had made it their life mission to publicly bash me any chance that they could. It became too much when, a few months ago, one of them decided to spread a rumour that Chris and I had slept together based on nothing other than strategically edited clips of us smiling at each other. It was then that the guys and I had made the decision to keep me as out of the public eye as possible.
However, the guys had sat me down last week to explain how fed up they were with how restricted they felt they had been in their content. They wanted to make an attempt at reclaiming a fandom built primarily of viewers closer to our age, and they thought that the best way to try that was to ignore the petty complaints and make content that they wanted to make. So, since I had been staying with them in Los Angeles for the month, I had agreed to not only be in one of their regular videos, but I had agreed to be in their ‘dirty q&a’ video. I couldn’t lie, I was a bit nervous, but mostly I was excited that my friends were finally confident enough to make videos with more extreme topics.
“Alright guys, ya’ll ready?” Chris asked, intaking a sharp breath while his hand hovered over the record button on the camera. We all responded with a falsely enthusiastic “ready!”, and the camera was turned on.
“Alright, first question,” Nick began after his long-winded introduction filled with disclaimers and explanations for their change in content. “How many people have you slept with?” Already with the first question, it was obvious that the guys were tentative about answering. “Bro I don’t know, next question.” Chris responded, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’ Chris?” Asked Matt tauntingly. “I mean I haven’t fucking kept track of everyone I’ve slept with.” He responded bluntly, before realizing how bad that had sounded. We all, however, erupted into laughter immediately. “Okay okay it’s not that bad guys I swear, I just have a bad memory is all.” He attempted to remedy his previous answer, but all three of us continued to laugh.
“Matt, how about you?” Asked Nick, to which Matt simply held up five fingers to the camera. “Same with me.” Nick agreed before turning to me. “Y/n? Spill it.” I rolled my eyes before answering truthfully. “Seven.” I shrugged, and I caught Matt’s smiley eyes through the rear view mirror.
“Alright next question is…” Chris was scrolling through the responses to their Instagram threads. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Sixteen” We all responded in unison, and immediately buckled over in laughter. “Not all at once though ya’ll.” Nick explained through his laughter, while mine and Matt’s eyes flew open and Chris’ laugh turned into hysterics. “Well…” Chris began before he was cut short by the three of us telling him to shut up. “I’m definitely gonna have to cut that one out. Sorry you two fools, I kind of set him up there.” Nick rolled his eyes as he looked between Matt and I.
Ironically enough, the fans had been half right in their rumour about Chris and I sleeping together. I had slept with one of the triplets before, but it wasn’t Chris.
When we were sixteen, Matt and I had decided that we wanted to lose our virginities to each other. It had been a no-strings-attached decision, and our friendship thankfully never wavered after it was done. Both Nick and Chris had already lost theirs that same year, and we had both just kind of wanted to get it over with. Obviously, this piece of information was known only by Matt and I, and of course Chris and Nick since they had barged into the room while we were in bed together. Even though the vindictive side of me would love to have the fans know this piece of information and shatter their dreams, I knew that the fallout would be an absolute nightmare.
“Okay let’s see…” I had been handed Nick’s phone to choose a question to answer and was scrolling through my options. “Here’s a simple one. Favourite position? Mine’s speed bump for sure.” I placed the phone down, satisfied with my confident answer, only to be met with multiple pairs of confused eyes. “I beg your pardon? The fuck is speed bump?” Asked Nick as he took his phone back. “The one where you’re kinda just lying flat on your stomach with the guy behind you. Trust me it’s chef’s kiss.” I responded simply. Chris’ facial expression turned from confusion to one of understanding. “Ohhh yeah that’s a good one.” He replied as he dapped me up. “Great, gonna have to edit that out too unless you want the rumours to get really bad again.” Nick said as he rolled his eyes. “Shit, sorry Nick.” Chris said, giggling slightly.
“Let’s just move on.” Matt said as he began scrolling on his own phone. “Best and worst sexual experiences.” He read off of his screen. There was a moment of silence while we all thought of our answers. “I had a girl throw up on my dick once. The problem is I don’t know if that makes it the worst or the best though.” Said Chris, earning a loud groan from each of us. “You’re sick.” Replied Matt, giving his brother a disgusted look.
“I mean I guess the worst sex would probably be my first time right? Like that makes sense right?” Asked Nick in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Chris’ confession, to which I nodded in agreed response without thinking. I caught Matt’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, this time seeing them filled with a pleading expression. Realizing what I had done, I silently prayed to the universe that my action would go unnoticed by the others. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, my head nod didn’t make it past Chris, which was made incredibly clear when he mumbled to Nick behind his hand that was hiding his smiling mouth from the camera.
“Did you see that?” He asked, and Nick looked confused so he continued, “Y/n agreed with you about her first time.” He managed to get out before erupting into laughter at the expense of his brother. Matt threw his hands up in the air once Nick joined Chris in his giggling, and I winced from my place in the backseat; also mouthing an apology to Matt’s reflection in the mirror.
“Bro come on it was my first time! I guarantee you were trash your first time too.” Matt said in an attempt to repair his ego as he threw his empty cup at Chris. “Maybe so, but I don’t have the girl who I lost it to here in the car to confirm it.” Chris snarked back, playfully nudging Matt’s shoulder. “We all gotta start somewhere dude.” He added when Matt didn’t respond. As Nick continued choking on his own laughter, Matt crossed his arms and stared out the window, very clearly wishing he was anywhere but there in that moment.
“Okay okay,” Nick began catching his breath. “We need to cool it because 90% of that what we just filmed is completely unusable. Let’s please just try to make it through this video without exposing Matt and Y/n’s bumpy sexual history again.” He pleaded as he began scrolling through his phone to find new questions.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
“God, that was rough.” Said Chris as we all climbed out of the parked car. We had finally finished the video. It took us an hour to film, and would still be edited down to just twenty minutes of content where we weren’t exposing big secrets or directly fuelling past rumours.
“At least it’s done. It might be a while before I ever want to do that again.” Nick responded as he opened the garage door leading into their house. “Agreed.” Added Matt from behind me as we climbed the stairs to the main level. We all walked over to the fridge to grab drinks, as if the beverages would clean our dirty mouths.
“Alright,” Chris began after a hefty chug from his Pepsi, “I’m going to my room. Matt, Nick, get on Fortnite with me.” He began descending the stairs. “I’ll get on once I shower Chris. I have a desperate need to scrub this FILTH off of my body.” Replied Nick, and he began walking towards the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Y/n, come upstairs whenever you want to go to sleep and I’ll get off the game.” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared at the top of the stairs.
Matt and I were left alone in the kitchen, him sitting at the table and me sitting on top of the counter in between the stove and the fridge. Swinging my legs carelessly, I decided to break the silence first. “I’m really sorry about all of that in the car Matt. I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at me and chuckled. “Yes you did, and it’s not a big deal. I know I wasn’t great back then.” He responded before taking a drink from his can. I smiled softly at his response but decided to leave it be. There was no use in trying to deny it. The sex was just boring, short, and awkward; the way that most first times are. At least he didn’t take any offence to it.
“You know,” He began after a few moments of silence, his eyes shooting to mine as he stood up from his place at the kitchen table. “I’ve gotten much better.” A playful smirk travelled to his lips as he began walking towards my frozen figure on the counter. He stopped just a few short centimetres away from me, so close that I could reach out and touch any part of him that I wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me, until I felt his early signs of arousal press lightly against my knee.
My throat was dry, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Even though Matt and I had slept together when we were younger, the dynamic was much different than now. The proposition came about awkwardly, and we were a fumbling mess with very little understanding of how it felt to be aroused. But in this moment, I was very very aroused just from this conversation.
In my silence, he placed a firm hand on my hip, rubbing his thumb across it gently. “I can do just about anything. Just let me know how you want it and I can give it to you.” My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I felt my panties dampen. He used his free hand to push my legs apart so that he could stand in between them, and my limp hands subconsciously moved up to grab onto his shoulders. At the first sign of my willingness, Matt quickly leaned forward and peppered soft, teasingly slow kisses along my neck. His lips travelled up to my ear, where he bit the lobe playfully before whispering, “Well, tell me. How do you want me Y/n?”
His words caused me to clench on nothing and I nearly moaned from the anticipation. With him still waiting on my response I whispered back, “You can do anything you want to me, Matty.”
Without missing a beat, he attacked my lips with his own and I melted from the immediate relief. I moved my hands from his shoulders up to the base of his head, and as his tongue danced along with mine I pulled gently at his messy hair; my own mouth filling with a moan falling from his lips. His right hand traveled up my grey hoodie to find that I had nothing on underneath, and he lightly brushed the bottom of my left tit with his thumb. Suddenly his hands moved from under my shirt and gripped my ass as he effortlessly lifted me off the counter and into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stumbled towards his bedroom.
Once inside the undisturbed room, he placed me down on his desk, my ass hitting the mouse and causing the computer to turn on; casting a light on the otherwise dark room. He wasted no time in removing my hoodie, leaning me back slightly so he could easily twirl his tongue along each nipple. I hummed in pleasure from the warm, wet sensation of his mouth connecting to my skin, and brought my hand down in between our bodies to softly run my hand up and down his clothed hardness. After a few moments, he pushed my hand away and dropped to his knees in between my legs.
Pulling my grey sweats off my body and pushing my thong to the side in one quick motion, Matt took a moment to relish in my swollen, dripping hole. “I don’t remember you being this wet for me last time.” He smirked as he looked up at me with blown out pupils. “Let’s see if you taste the same.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head at his filthy words, and a moan slipped from between my lips as his mouth made sloppy contact with my sensitive bud. I subconsciously grabbed onto the back of his head, suffocating him with my heat as he continued to suck and kiss my clit. As his tongue worked on my nerves, he released a guttural moan that vibrated against my heat, causing my back to arch at the intense feeling.
When we had done this all of those years before, Matt’s movements were lacking in confidence. He had fumbled around my clit blindly, and had ate me out cautiously as if he was afraid of hurting me. Now, this Matt had clearly gained experience, as my stomach was already beginning to fill with the familiar pressure from the build up of an orgasm once I watched him find all of my most sensitive spots; his eyes blissfully closed.
Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away from my heat and I groaned at the loss of contact. He straightened his body back up to my level and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were touching. “Kiss me. I want you to know how good you taste.” He whispered through his glistening bright red lips. More on fire than I had ever been in my life, I immediately attached my open mouth to his, moaning at the distinct taste of my sweet arousal on his tongue. As we deepened the kiss, his fingers found my heat and he ran two of them up and down my folds to collect my wetness before slamming them into my cunt; finding my spongey g-spot on the first pump with his curled fingers.
My head rolled back, lost in the euphoric feeling of his fingers filling me up, and he watched my facial expressions intently as the wet sounds of my upcoming orgasm filled the space between us. “Holy fuck, Matt.” I slurred, my voice coming out choppy as his fingers continued to relentlessly pound into me; never losing contact with that one spot that drove me crazy. “I-I’m gonna-” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the very beginning of my orgasm roll over my body.
Suddenly, all of his movements stopped and my eyes shot open out of frustration. In the time since my eyes had screwed shut, his own had darkened in arousal. My body trembled from the sudden halt in its pleasure, and he smirked at me. “You want to cum, sweetheart?” He asked, his kind words a harsh paradox to his sinister expression. Still, I nodded eagerly to which he pulled his fingers out of me completely before leaning up and placing his wet mouth right against my ear.
“You’re gonna fucking wait for me.”
I attempted to squeeze my legs together to take some pressure off of my throbbing, unsatisfied core as his vulgar words scrambled my brain, before he pulled me off the desk and pushed my head down so that I was now the one on my knees. Confused, I looked up to find him gazing down at me. He gestured towards his clothed member. “Go ahead.” I grinned slyly.
My turn.
I had made an attempt at giving him head the first time we had sex. Just like him, I had struggled with confidence due to the sole fact that I had no clue what I was doing. Since then, I had had plenty of practice, and I was excited to now be the one to show him my improvements.
I grabbed onto the waist band of his pyjama pants and pulled them down to his knees. With only his tight red boxer shorts covering it now, the outline of his thick cock and the small wet spot at its tip from his pre-cum made my mouth water. I brought my mouth up to the skin on his lower stomach, right above the Calvin Klein logo on his boxers, and began peppering excruciatingly slow kisses along the light sprinkling of hair there. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes to find him peering down at me with curious lust, his mouth open slightly and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
After a short while, I grabbed his boxers and pulled them down to meet his pants at his knees. His hardened cock smacked his stomach on its release from the tight material, where it left a wet patch from his pre-cum. Grabbing it with my left hand, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth and stared up at him as I let it all drip down his swollen member. After pumping my hand for a few strokes, I placed only the tip in my mouth as I watched his eyes dilate. I swirled my tongue teasingly along the swollen tip, tasting the the saltiness of his fluid. Eventually, I began pumping my hand up and down his shaft in rhythm with my head bobbing along the top half of his cock. He shifted on his feet at the new sensation and let his head fall back. I kept my pace agonizingly lazy, knowing that it would drive him crazy.
With my tongue, I licked a strip from the base of his ball sack, up his shaft, and to his tip, earning a hushed whimper from his lethargic mouth before he grabbed my hair and shifted his hips. Looking down at me and holding my head firmly in place, he began thrusting his hips as he kept me still. He started slow, but when he realized that I could take more his pace began to pick up and his cock began to hit deep in my throat. I looked up at him through my tear-filled eyes, and saliva began to drip down my chin. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted out through each thrust. I lifted my hand to cup his balls, giving them gentle squeezes that seemed to send him towards his climax.
As a moan fell from his lips, he pulled my head back so that his dripping cock sprung free before he got the chance to fill my mouth with his cum. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed taking deep breaths as if he was fighting the urge to finish right then, before he opened his eyes and gazed down at me. “Get on the bed.”
I pulled myself up off the ground and, on shaky legs, walked over to his bed with him following close behind. Once I reached the edge of the bed he stopped me, turning me around to face him and pushing me down so I would sit. “Put your feet on the bed and pull your knees up to your chest.” He commanded, and I did as I was told, albeit I was a bit confused. “Good girl.” He praised me as he pulled me right up to the edge of the bed before pushing my legs further apart.
Placing one of his knees on the bed beside me, he lined his cock up with my entrance; rubbing it tantalizingly along my wetness. Placing one arm around my waist to brace my body, he slowly pushed his cock inside of me right there on the edge of the bed. His trusts were slow but harsh, and the position he had placed us in made it so that my cervix was barrelled into each time his hips met mine. He placed his sweat-coated forehead against my collar bone and released small breathless grunts with each deep thrust. “So fucking good Matt. Oh god.” I whined as his pace began to increase in speed. He planted his teeth into my shoulder as we fell back onto the bed; his body now completely on top of mine as he continued to drive into me.
He lifted his head and looked fixedly at my fucked out face, his eyes glossed over in erotic pleasure. With this visual, I was brought back to the first time we had fucked, in a position so similar to this one. His rhythm was slower and much more tentative, and we were both certainly much less pleasing to the other, but still I suddenly got hit with a wave of recognition in how much we had both grown since then.
I was pulled out of my trance by Matt’s commanding voice. “Move back real quick and get on your stomach.” I did as I was told, feeling the emptiness that came from his dick sliding out of my soaking wet pussy. Assuming he wanted me in doggy, I got on my knees and arched my back; my head and shoulders pressed firmly against the soft mattress. I felt the bed move as he climbed on all the way, and in a moment of animalistic desperation I pushed my needy cunt subconsciously back to meet heat of his cock.
“No.” He stated simply, his veiny hands massaging my ass. Confused, I looked over my shoulder as I waited for him to explain. He had an ominous smile as he moved his gaze from my fully exposed cunt to my face. “I wanna see if your favourite position is really worth the hype.” He used his hands on my ass to push it down flat to the bed before adjusting himself so that he could line up correctly. Still looking over my shoulder with glazed eyes, I watched his expression as his cock sunk into my core once again. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyelashes fluttered slightly from the new sensation that the position gave him as he bottomed out. “Oh fuck.” His eyes were fully shut now as he stayed still for a moment. Small beads of sweat traveled down his stomach as I took in the beauty of the man who was making me feel so so good.
Getting turned on even more just from Matt’s visual pleasure, my walls clenched subconsciously and I whined, “Please keep going Matty.” His eyes snapped open and landed on mine, before he leaned forward — one hand beside my head and the other planted firmly to the small of my back — and began pounding into me relentlessly.
The depth of this position allowed me to feel every inch of his cock, and it became impossible to keep the moans and strings of profanity from escaping my lips. This seemed to be the case for Matt too, as over the sounds of my own moans and the wet sounds of our bodies connecting, I could hear the gruff throaty moans of his own pleasure. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight Y/n.” Even though I was aware that we were both making far too much noise that Chris and Nick would definitely hear, I couldn’t get myself to bring it to Matt’s attention, as the animalistic vocalization of his indulgence was bringing me closer and closer to my climax.
“I-I need to cum Matty.” I managed to vocalize as my nerves began to unravel. “Hold it. Want you to cum with me.” He responded, leaning even further forward so that his body was practically lying on top of mine. He took a free hand and wrapped it around my throat, lightly squeezing the sides as my pleasure became dangerously close to bubbling over.
“P-Please cum for me. I can’t hold it anymore.” I begged, digging my nails into his silk bedsheets and feeling my walls quiver each time he drove his cock into my cervix. His breathing became hitched in my ear and his movements became sloppier. Biting my ear, he asked, “Where do you want me to cum, Y/n?”
Without wasting time, I moaned my response. “Cum in me please. Want you to fill me with it.” At that, Matt slammed his twitching cock into me a few more times before finally telling me what I so desperately needed him to.
“Okay sweetheart. Go ahead and make a mess for me.” Even before his words fully left his dirty mouth, I gave into the overbearing pressure in my stomach and felt my intense orgasm over-take me. Practically screaming his name, my pussy convulsed uncontrollably. I felt the immediate relief and heard the gush as I squirted along his cock and down his legs. “Jesus.” He moaned out as his body suddenly stilled. As my legs shook, I could feel his cock twitching inside of me; painting my walls with his cum.
After we both came down from our highs, catching our breath and reconnecting with our minds, Matt slowly pulled his dick — freshly bathed in my own juices — out of my swollen core. With a satisfied sigh, he threw his body onto the bed beside mine. Both of us laid there for a moment, facing one another with glazed over expressions, before a shameless smile crept onto Matt’s face.
“Well you definitely didn’t squirt the last time we slept together.” He chuckled proudly, and I knew his ego had been inflated. I rolled my eyes. “Well, you didn’t whimper the last time we fucked either.” It was my turn to smile as he covered his face bashfully. We laid there in silence for a moment, both of us lethargic and fucked out.
“If that was anything like when ya’ll lost your virginities then I am extremely impressed.”
Matt and I both shot our heads up and looked around the room for the origin of that familiar voice. We were alone, but my eyes focused on the lit-up computer. On the screen, Matt’s Discord was open to the group with Nick and Chris. I turned to look at Matt, who had also clearly made the same discovery that I had, and whispered, “Did you for real leave the channel unmuted?” He tucked his lips together and shrugged apprehensively, before climbing off the bed and over to the computer.
“Chris, how much of that did you hear?” He asked into his headset. I heard a laugh through the mic. “Oh Matt, I heard it all. Good work. I’m a proud brother.” I covered my face in embarrassment as Matt rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You’re a perv.” He mumbled to his brother, but I caught the small smile that tried to creep to his lips.
“I’m gonna need a fucking lobotomy to get over the trauma that I was just put through.” I heard Nick’s voice now through the mic and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro you could have just left the server, you act like I forced you to listen to the entire thing.” Matt argued with his older brother. “You think I stayed and listened to the ENTIRE thing? What are you crazy?” I was full out laughing now, despite the embarrassment. “I left as soon as I figured out what was happening, but I still heard waaaay too much.” Matt laughed now and muted his mic — perhaps a bit too late — then walked back to where I was on the bed, propped up on my forearms.
“Whoops.” He simply said as he pulled his boxers back up. I shook my head and smiled shyly. “We are literally never going to be able to live that down.” I replied as he draped his body along the bed beside me again. Rubbing his eyes awkwardly, he shrugged softly. “Well, at least they’re gonna have to stop teasing me about my skills.” I smacked his arm playfully and he responded by grabbing me swiftly and pulling me to his side.
“You were impressed, weren’t you?” He asked teasingly, as he held me close. I closed my eyes and sighed, “I was, Matt. Really, really, impressed.” He giggled into my neck at my truthful response and I swatted him once again.
“I’m glad we got our re-do. I’d been wanting that for a while.” He said after a moment. I looked at him with a smile and ruffled his hair. “Me too, honestly. I always knew you had some potential in you.” I teased.
“Well, if you don’t want to have to face Nick right now, you’re welcome to sleep in here tonight.” He offered and I sighed in relief. “That would be great, actually.” I said as I began to sit up. “Let’s get cleaned up first though.” He began as he got up and grabbed us both towels from his closet, “You’re not allowed to get under my sheets until you wash my children off your thighs.” My eyes shot open at his disgusting choice of words and I quickly covered myself with my towel. “Matthew Bernard you are sick!” I exclaimed as we both headed towards his bathroom. “Sure am. But so are you.”
He pulled me into a hug while we stood in the bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. As he rubbed circles on my back with his hand, I sighed. “I think this is the secret to good friendship.” He chuckled before asking, “What is?” Playfully, I smacked his ass over his boxers. “Fucking the shit out of each other once in a while.” He laughed and pulled away from the hug before getting into the shower; leaving the glass door open so that I could follow him. “Shut your weird ass up and get in the shower with me, friend.”
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dreamchasernina · 7 months
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So I had to stop on episode 6. Gonna continue watching tonight. I just have one thing to say so far. People think a good adaptation is the one that follows the story of the original. It’s not. It’s the characters. The characters are the ones that made the original so good. And none of them are as fleshed out here. You cannot seriously tell me the katara you see in the original is the one you see in the live action.
The writers decided to take the struggle and the growth of the characters away. I’m on episode 6. So far, Aang had everything come so easy to him, he didn’t struggle at all. Kyoshi fought for him at Kyoshi island. He enters the spirit world so easily, he finds Roku so freaking fast, he immediately knows Hei Bai is the spirit of the forest, out of nowhere. He learns absolutely nothing through those 6 episode. I could talk for hours about how that scene with Gyatso was a cop out. Why should their main character suffer right? He shouldn’t. So they just make up a scene where Aang meets Gyatso and he just outright tells him there’s nothing he could have done so he shouldn’t feel guilty.
The OG never had that scene. Because the OG knew the audience was smart enough to realize it themselves. There was nothing Aang could have done if he hadn’t run away, he would have died. But Aang needs to realize this himself, he needs to confront his feelings, learn from his mistakes, forgive himself and move on. But these days, writers don’t want their characters going through a journey, nope, the characters are just perfect, from the beginning to end.
Same said for Zuko. The writers apparently decided to make him softer, have higher morals, not as angry or determined, because that would make Zuko complex and interesting. He was good at heart in the OG show too, but he was spoiled and angry and violent. He’s none of that here, he’s gentle and respectful to everyone and just wants to capture the avatar, but not too much though. Zuko doesn’t even give everything he has to capture Aang, he doesn’t hire pirates, he doesn’t hire June himself (Iroh has to convince him to do it), he doesn’t follow Aang into the fire nation, you don’t feel his desperation, his determination, just how much he wants to go home. How could his journey feel interesting when we don’t see the dramatic shift in his character? The most interesting character in the show is not as ineteresting when he doesn’t go from a spoiled angry hurt teenager to an honorable smart and compassionate young man.
Yes, the story is fine, the visuals are nice, but it’s all very surface level. Everything is just flat.
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mellowwillowy · 8 months
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"Stop the wedding!!"
So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)
All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.
"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!
"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.
"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.
"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"
"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.
"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.
"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"
"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.
"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"
"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.
"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.
"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.
"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.
"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.
"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"
And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.
"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.
"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!
Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.
And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"
The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!
--
"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)
Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."
"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"
"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.
"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"
--
Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"
The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.
Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)
"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.
Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.
Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.
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atrwriting · 28 days
Text
terrible company — logan howlett x reader
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secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are
side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene
back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy
barely edited we die like overworked students men
minors fuck off plz n thnx
as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick
“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”
you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.
he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.
you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”
he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”
you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.
you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.
your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.
not even close.
the worst part was that logan was your partner.
it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.
you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.
but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?
made your fucking blood boil.
that no good, rotten, fucking —
“hey, sweetheart —“
when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.
“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.
fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.
he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”
he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.
you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.
he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.
you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.
“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”
“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.
he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”
with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.
no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —
but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.
but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.
you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.
fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.
when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.
when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.
“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.
“…is it working?”
you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.
fuck.
you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.
“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”
“…fuckin’ vegans.”
“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”
“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.
you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.
you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.
you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.
him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.
“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.
straddled him, to be more exact.
in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.
“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“
he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.
you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”
he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.
“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.
“you’re good — i get them, too.”
“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.
that was it. the final straw.
you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”
he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”
“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”
“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”
“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”
oh — you shouldn’t have.
you really, really shouldn’t have.
you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.
you watched his nose crinkle in anger.
he let out a frustrated, slow breath.
another.
and another.
and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.
you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.
“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”
you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?
“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”
you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“
he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.
“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”
you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.
heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.
“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.
the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.
logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.
men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.
and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.
it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.
…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —
he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.
instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.
and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.
he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.
“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”
“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“
he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.
“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”
you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.
“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”
you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”
you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.
you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.
it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.
he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.
you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.
“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”
you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.
it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”
you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.
“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”
“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“
“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”
“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.
“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“
every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.
logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.
“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”
you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.
and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.
he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.
“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”
you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.
the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.
he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.
“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”
he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.
“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”
you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”
that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.
“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”
“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”
he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.
“right there —!” you sobbed.
“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”
you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.
“all mine.”
“my fucking pussy —“
“good fucking girl —“
“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”
your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.
logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.
you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.
it was going to be a long, long night...
2K notes · View notes
felinecyan · 3 months
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Reality of Realizations
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[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.
WC: 3559
Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto
This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶
『••✎••』
In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.
Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.
For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.
And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.
When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.
As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.
You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.
Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:
An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.
But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.
And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.
You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.
That guilt settled in.
He was a horrible person.
He had to make up for it.
And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.
The question was, how?
He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?
How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?
He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.
So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.
Surely, it would help.
After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.
Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.
He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.
Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.
He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.
Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.
He wanted to be your friend.
He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.
You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.
Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.
But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.
Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.
Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.
He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.
Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.
"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."
But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.
"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"
You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.
"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.
"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."
Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?
The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.
Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.
So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?
He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.
But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.
He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.
And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.
His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.
His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.
His mind continued to wander.
Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.
None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.
His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.
Birds.
Why does that remind him of something?
What do birds have to do with a gift?
He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.
And then, a memory flashed.
It was a rainy day, and you were late.
You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.
You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.
Luckily, it wasn't too far away.
Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.
And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.
You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.
When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.
You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.
A hairclip, to be specific.
You lost a hairclip.
It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.
He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.
You really cared.
You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.
And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.
If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.
Until now.
In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.
He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.
It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.
He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?
Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.
It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.
He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.
The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.
And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.
Oh, right, the apology.
He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.
But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?
Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.
He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.
Okay, how would he start?
Hi? No, that was too casual.
Hello? No, it's not formal enough.
Greetings?
No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.
He needed something more genuine, more real.
Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.
He cleared his throat again.
"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.
He started over.
"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."
This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.
"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."
He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.
"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."
Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.
He sighed.
Hopefully.
The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.
But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.
Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.
The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.
This is it, he thought—all or nothing.
He took a deep breath.
Here goes.
"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.
You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.
Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.
"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"
The question made him snap back into reality.
He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.
You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.
"What's this?"
"It's a gift."
Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.
"For... me?"
Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!
He shook his head.
"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."
You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?
You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.
"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."
Silence.
He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.
"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.
So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.
"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."
When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.
And that smile. Oh, that smile.
He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.
"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.
You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.
"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."
Wait, was that a yes?
Was that a yes?!
Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.
"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."
You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.
"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."
You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.
"I can… um, help you with that if you want."
The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.
It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.
It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.
"You look nice," he told you.
"Thank you."
There was a pause.
"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."
The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.
"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."
Mission make up with you: success.
The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.
Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
Text
Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao
——
Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).
The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.
Danny took out his phone.
“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”
Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”
“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”
“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.
“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”
“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”
“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”
“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”
“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.
“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”
“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”
Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.
Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.
Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.
“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.
If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.
——
Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.
“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.
Batman grunted a yes.
“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”
Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.
"Is this..."
"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."
Batman stared at the picture.
"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"
"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."
Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.
"I heard you had something about Luthor?"
Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."
Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.
"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.
"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.
"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"
Batman grunted.
"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."
Batman swiveled his head over. "What."
Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."
Batman stilled.
"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."
Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."
"And why not?"
Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"
"... Point."
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cimmanonrowl · 3 months
Text
Boyfriend
Nothing in this world has ever baffled Aaron Hotchner more than your questionable taste in men. And after witnessing firsthand how shitty your boyfriend was, he made it his night’s mission to steal your mind from him and show you what you’ve been missing all along.
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Pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Contents: unprotected rough sex, age gap, dom!aaron, breeding, filming, powerplay: boss/employee relationship, implied cheating.
You were the most sensible member of the BAU as far as Aaron is concerned.
In almost 5 years of working together, he’s never had a problem with you or your work ethic. You’re intelligent and logical, and you never made any rash decision that put yourself or anyone on the team in danger, nor did you ever compromise a case for any reckless, unaccounted reason. Years passed and all the doubts he initially had about you melted into a puddle of respect and adoration. And since then, you never heard him or anyone else contradict your arguments.
In your defense, being the youngest in the FBI gave you the unabating urge to follow orders and protocols as they were, to always play by the book exactly the way you were taught in the Academy. Or maybe because Morgan was right when he teasingly profiled you as someone with people-pleasing tendencies— especially to Hotch and Rossi, given they are higher-ups and had the longest experience in the Bureau.
Nothing was wrong with that, of course. You’re good at what you’re doing. You’re productive; and a valuable member of the team. Slowly over the past years, you’ve gained everyone’s trust and respect. And you’ve been made aware that everyone always has your back…
Unless the topic is your relationships.
“There’s a new Korean barbecue place down the block, do you want to join us?” You stopped midway through arranging your weekly reports as Spencer leaned against your table.
Glancing around the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Derek standing by Emily’s desk, watching you and Spencer subtly from a distance. You almost snorted when Emily and Penelope scampered to look away, while Derek only crossed his arms and raised one of his eyebrows— like he always does when he’s pissed.
You leaned towards Spencer, whispering. “They know, don’t they?”
“Garcia knows,” He whispered back promptly. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t tell anyone.”
You stared at him suspiciously, eyes squinting a little. It’s just a joke. If there’s anyone in the team that you trust with your little secrets, that’s Spencer. But you’re curious if he knows how Penelope got wind of your secret date tonight. As far as you know, Spencer was the only person who knew about this.
“I don’t judge you...” He replied with a simple shrug. “You know, people who’ve grown attached to unhealthy relationships find it difficult to leave. Given your people-pleasing tendencies, I know you’re holding onto the chance of proving yourself to him. And you’re still waiting for him to realize your worth. It’s sad actually, now that I remember that.”
You gasped in offense and disbelief, making you slap your palm on his shoulder. While Spencer only grinned and chuckled at your reaction.
“Wait till you hear what Morgan has to say.”
You shivered at the thought. Derek has always been protective of you. Ever since you joined the team, he’s claimed that you’re his little sister. Not that it was a problem, of course, you absolutely love having an older brother. It’s just that… you don’t know how to act whenever he’s pissed because you never had a brother in the first place.
As you wandered your gaze to where your friends were standing, a worried frown lidded your expression. Derek hasn’t moved an inch and is pretty much still watching you, obviously seething in annoyance. On his side stood Emily and Penelope, both looking at you with guilty faces.
“He’s going to kill me,” you mumbled to yourself.
Spencer could only snort. “Yeah, right. I wonder why...”
You turned to him in resignation, heaving a deep sigh as you did so. You focused on arranging the folders on your desk before hitting him square on the chest with the documents.
“Enjoy the weekend, Dr. Reid,” You bid him goodnight before walking away.
“What about Korean barbecue?” He called out, raising both his arms in the middle of the office.
You whirled around to face them, still taking small steps backward.
“I’ve got a date!” You announced with a cheeky grin.
The door to Aaron’s office was left open as usual. From your desk earlier, you saw him working on some paperwork due for this week. There was a mountain of it on his table. And you saw him several times leaning on his chair and massaging his temple— not that you’re watching.
“Sir?” You knocked softly on the door surface to get his attention. He was focused on the document he was reading, his eyebrows tugged together in a scowl.
When he heard your voice, though, he glanced up and almost immediately caught your eyes.
“Hey…” He greeted shortly, smiling as he leaned on his swivel chair. “Come in.”
You mirrored his smile as you handed him the documents. “My reports, sir...”
He gave you a brief nod, thanking you promptly after accepting the pile of folders. You stood in front of him for a moment, taking in every bit of his features: his clean-cut hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the light stubble on his jaw— how can someone be that attractive while under stress? Good God.
“Everything okay?”
You blinked in confusion. “Sir?”
“You’re staring,” He pointed out, chuckling. “Are you visiting that Korean barbecue with Reid?”
Your eyes automatically darted to the glass window, seeing that everyone was still waiting for you at Emily’s table. Even JJ was there, listening to Morgan ranting in frustration.
“No, I have a date later…” You admitted shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up.
“Ah…” His eyebrows perked in surprise. “But I heard Garcia wanting you to come with them, do they know about this date?”
You pursed your lips before shaking your head… then nodding. 
“They didn’t know— well Reid knew— then Garcia— then now everyone else.”
Aaron nodded slowly, trying to understand your point. “And I assume you don’t want them to know?”
A deep sigh unknowingly escaped your lips.
As much as the team tries not to profile each other, it comes out instinctively. One time after discovering your ex-boyfriend was commenting publicly on other women’s bikini posts, you got so distracted that Emily had to pull you aside to make sure you were alright. Then another time when you came across the secret account he made to continue flirting with other women, you got questioned by Hotch for being so distracted.
They were so adamant in knowing what was bothering you. This is why you always try not to bring your personal issues to work.
“I’m going out with James...”
As soon as those words came out, Aaron looked stunned.
“Come again?”
“James…” You mumbled, your voice nearly cracking in embarrassment. “We’re seeing each other… again…”
It would’ve been better if the floor cracked open and swallowed you alive. The way Aaron was staring at you in disbelief was enough to shrink you in shame. You could even see the disappointment in his eyes, which is way worse than being judged in your opinion.
“The guy who dumped you after knowing you’re earning more than him and thinks women should quit their jobs after marriage?” He asked, scowling.
“Nope, that’s Benedict.”
Aaron heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. The sight was so funny you almost laughed at his face.
“Is James the guy who comments on bikini pictures?”
“That’s Mark, sir…” You smiled awkwardly, scratching your ear. “He… he’s the one with the… video…”
“The one who cheated on you and filmed everything?” His scowl deepened even more. Is that even possible?
“Yes... sir... but he said he changed— okay— time to leave.”
You bolted out of his office. With how his eyes turned sharp as he heard your argument, you knew you just pushed his button.
Now it’s a funny memory, but Aaron Hotchner used to be your dream. Everyone in the BAU knew you spent your first year crushing hard on him. Until a random weekend bar hopping crushed your dream. Truth or Dare. When Morgan dared Aaron to make out with the young lady by the bar counter, you learned Aaron doesn’t like younger girls.
That made you step back. He’d obviously like career women; the mature ones, elegantly gorgeous, maybe with a good figure, curves in the right places, big boobs—
All men are the same. What do you expect, honestly? That’s what your ex-boyfriends like the most. Also their reason for cheating on you. You’re not their type, and you shouldn’t act too surprised because you knew that in the first place. Or that they have needs to fulfill. Apparently, you lack both.
“Hey, you okay?” The warmth of Aaron’s palm pulled you out of your reverie. You turned to him fast, blinking in confusion.
“Y-yes, sir. Were you saying something?”
He pursed his lips a little, nodding towards the view outside the car window.
“We’ve been here for five minutes.”
“Oh…” Heat crept on your cheeks after taking a peek, realizing you’ve already arrived in your apartment building. “Right. I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking.”
“Of that dumbfuck asshole?”
You chuckled awkwardly, baffled by his sudden choice of words. He’s never the type who curses out of nowhere. “Sir?” 
“He made you wait for three fucking hours,” He retorted, his voice calm— dangerously so. “The one you call ‘boyfriend.’”
“He is my boyfriend…”
He stared at you, unamused. “After everything he did?”
“Well…”
At least you know everyone was right: Derek, Penelope, Emily… Aaron. Maybe you’re a hopeless case. For someone decently smart, you’re a complete idiot. You should’ve seen this coming; these men will never change. There’s no way a smart woman would allow this to happen again.
The worst part is that you couldn’t even call your friends to pick you up after getting ditched. You just missed the last train, you couldn’t book a cab, and they’re all hanging out in a Korean restaurant— except Aaron. Which led him to bring you home instead.
“What? You'd still defend him?”
After a few lingering moments of just staring at each other, you decided to offer him a small smile instead of answering. You thanked him for the ride, bid him a good night, and told him to spend his weekend resting. With a sweet yet polite smile, you stepped out of his car.
But Aaron got out before you could even walk away, following you inside the building.
“I swear, I’m fine. You should go home, Aaron,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady.
Aaron walked in, trailing behind you, his presence and smell immediately filling your small apartment. You closed the door behind him and turned to find him standing in the middle of your living room, his gaze sweeping over the space before settling back on you.
“I’ll rest when I know you’re okay,” He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Nice apartment.”
“Thanks…” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Can I get you...?”
Your words died in your throat as you found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of Aaron Hotchner. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stoic and something you couldn’t quite place.
“You know, I never understood your preference,” He began cautiously, his eyes directed at you. “You never made good decisions with guys, don’t you?”
“I know that, Aaron.”
“They’re all idiots. Does that turn you on?”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart racing as the words sank in.
“Does being treated like trash turns you on?”
A warm tear licked your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, feeling embarrassed and hurt by his words. Aaron didn’t move an inch but the way his eyes traveled along your face melted his irritation a little. Silently, he reached out and pulled you into an embrace, his arms solid and warm around your figure.
“Fucking hell…” He mumbled against your hair. “I try so fucking hard to be good to you and you let those schoolboys make you cry?”
You buried your face in his chest. “You’re the one making me cry right now.”
“It’s because I’m right.”
“I don’t need your lecture, Aaron Hotchner.”
You pulled back slightly to look at him. Your gaze collided, and you saw something shift in his eyes. The worried frown was still there, but there was something else— something more intense, subtly primal.
“If you’re expecting an apology then you’re wrong.” The muscle on his jaw ticked before he leaned toward your ear. “You know I can treat you so much better. I’d never make you wait and let someone else take you home. I can spend the entire night proving that to you.”
Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters and his reaction. But then you felt him respond, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss.
You melted into him, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his touch causing intrinsic need to erupt at the pit of your stomach. The kiss grew messier, wetter, and uncoordinated. His hands found the crest of your breast, caressing you through your shirt with gentle yet possessive strokes. 
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.
You nodded immediately, your own breath coming in short gasps. “I do, god, yes…”
You shivered at his touch, pressing your body closer to him. You found yourself unbuttoning your dress shirt, eagerly so, making Aaron smirk as his eyes followed your clumsy movements.
Once undone, you quickly threw your shirt on the ground. A satisfied glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes before he captured your lips again. This time, more urgent. You felt his arms snaking down your body.
“Should’ve known you’re a dirty slut...” A low chuckle rambled in his throat, his lips leaving soft kisses on your jaw. “Did you wear this red lingerie all day? Were you expecting that schoolboy to fuck you tonight, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes…” You moaned.
“Yes what, slut? You’re wearing this all day or that you wanted him to fuck you tonight?” He asked mockingly. “Tell me, baby, have you ever been fucked by a real man?”
“Aaron, please—” You let out a gasp, feeling your cunt getting wetter every second you spent untouched. “The left door– need you– please—”
“How greedy.”
Effortlessly, he perched you on his muscular arms, carrying you straight to the bedroom. All while you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, your heart pounding with lust and anticipation.
He dropped you on the bed, his eyes dark with need. He took a moment to scan you, his gaze sweeping over your body with reverence.
“Take that pants off now. I want to see everything.”
The coldness of his voice sent tingles to your wet cunt. You quickly scrambled to your knees, your trembling hands stiffly finding their way to the button of your slacks. The thin fabric slid down your legs, exposing more of your body. You feel so exposed, all for his eyes.
“Fuck...” He breathed, palming his hard cock through his pants. “I always imagined how you’d look naked. You have no idea how much restraint it took me not to touch you every time we shared a room.”
A coil in your stomach tightened as he loosened his tie, carelessly tossing it on the ground. Now he’s left with his work shirt and pants, and the contrast of your nakedness alone excites you even more.
He stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his pointer finger tilting your chin upward. Just enough for you to meet his eyes.
“Didn’t you say you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” His lips trailed from your lips to your cheek, slowly, teasingly down to your jaw.
You whimpered. “Hmm… yeah…”
“Care to remind me what that boy did to you?” He taunted, his voice menacingly low. 
The warmth of his big, calloused hands explored the softness of your bare skin. You moaned softly, feeling his thumb and pointer finger rubbing one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.
“He-” You swallowed thickly, clamping your thighs shut. “H-he cheated on me…”
Aaron hummed mockingly, tutting. “And you still want him here right now?”
“No…” You said quickly, blinking dazedly at him. “Want you, Aaron.”
“Is that how you talk to your boss, sweetheart?” He leaned backward, withdrawing his hand from touching you, one of his thick eyebrows raised in question. “For a cheating slut, I’d say you’re quite demanding.”
“Y-you, sir. Want you, please... please, fuck me, sir.”
You ignored the wetness pooling in between your thighs. His eyes were dark and piercing as he took your nakedness in, while you stared back innocently. You reached for his pants, resting your palm on his clothed pelvis.
“I’m sorry, sir,” You said in a whisper, quietly unbuckling his belt as you did so. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”
“You better keep your promise, little girl.”
You gave him a sweet smile, Aaron’s chest rose and fell with every breath. His gaze was fixed on your fingers as they fumbled on his belt. The air hummed with anticipation, mirroring the pounding of your heart against your ribs.
As the belt slid free, Aaron’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Leaning in, he inserted two of his fingers into your mouth. And you suck diligently, wetting his fingers thoroughly, staring at him all while your hands blindly unzipped his pants. After a few tries, you finally tugged down his pants and underwear, making him hiss quietly.
“Aaron...”
“Yes, sweetheart?” He rasped, frowning at you in concern. “Do you want to stop?”
“Can we… can we film this?”
He glanced at the ceiling, chuckling in disbelief. You watched how his throat bobbed with every swallow, and you squeezed your thighs for some friction. God, you’re so wet.
“And who would you show that, baby?” He asked curiously, pumping his cock in slow motion as he waited for your answer. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Do you want to show your boyfriend how much of slut you are for an older man’s cock? Is that what you want?”
“Y-yes, sir…”
And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, naked, with Aaron’s big cock deep in your throat, staring up at his phone. Aaron was sitting on the edge of the bed, filming everything.
“What a dirty slut, you like that?” He asked hoarsely, tugging you away from his cock. You gasped loudly, feeling Aaron’s precum and your saliva dripping at the corner of your mouth.
“Thank you, sir...” you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as he slapped his veiny cock on your cheek and lip, spreading the wetness across your face.
“Fuck, look at you. You’re so cockdrunk...” He mused, laughing to himself, making sure he was capturing everything on the video. “How does it feel to cheat with your boss, sweetheart?”
“G-good…” You gulped thickly. “Should’ve d-done this soon, sir…” You mumbled in a daze, opening your mouth to take him again but he firmly tapped your cheek to stop you from doing so.
“Lay down and open those pretty legs for me.”
The room smelled like sweat and sex, wrapping you both in the heat of the moment. Soft moans and whispers filled the air, bouncing at the four corners of the room.
You closed your eyes in embarrassment and lay quietly in the middle of the bed, following Aaron’s order. In your past relationships, nothing was ever like this. It was always quick, sometimes even one-sided. You’ve never felt confident with your body, and it’s not like you had too many experiences to learn and grow your confidence from.
“I said open your legs, slut. Are you dumb?” Aaron slapped your thigh using his free hand, the one not holding the phone. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”
You shut your legs even more, shaking your head lightly.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re shy...” He tutted, feining pity. “Open those legs right now or I’m leaving. Maybe you can call your little boyfriend to take care of you.”
You quickly shook your head, a whimper caught in your throat. You open your legs a little while your hands still covered your wet, glistening cunt. Aaron frowned at the sight, obviously displeased by your slow, unsure actions.
“Don’t test me, little girl.” 
With an impatient sigh, he separated your thighs using his vacant hand. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold air hit your wetness. You watched in silence as Aaron focused his phone on your dripping cunt, running the pad of his middle finger up your clit down to your wet slit.
“You’re so wet, sweetheart. Who’s this for, hm?” He taunted, waiting for your answer.
Your toes curled in anticipation, mumbling. “Yours, sir…”
“Louder, slut. I’m trying to fucking record, remember?”
The world around you melted away as he pressed his middle finger inside your wet cunt. You felt feverish, growing even more desperate as he slowly moved his finger. Your breathing became ragged and heavy as you slowly felt the rhythm.
“Aaron… oh god…” You rasped breathlessly, both your hands reaching for his wrist as he added another finger. “That feels so g-good, sir…”
“Yeah?” He mocked, his teeth sank on his bottom lip as he watched his fingers assault your pussy through the screen of his phone. “Good girl, baby, look at you taking my fingers well.”
“I’m c-close, sir—” Your voice trembled with the intensity of your upcoming orgasm. “Sir, ple—”
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
That’s all it took for your resolution to crumble. Your orgasm racked through you with so much force, your back arching, your lips opened to a silent scream. You never came that hard before. And good God, what have you been missing all along? Aaron watched you with half-lidded eyes, his chest warm with lust and adoration.
“You’re gorgeous, baby.”
You hummed mindlessly, still coming down from your high.
“Need you now, Aaron... Please…” You croaked, throat dry. “Need your cock inside.”
“Say that to the camera, slut.”
You propped yourself a little, immediately facing the phone he was holding. “Need your big cock inside me, sir. Please, fuck me…”
The raw desperation in your voice made him smile. “Ride me then, sweetheart.”
You wasted no time and scrambled to your knees. Aaron deftly took his position and laid on his back. You licked your lips as you stared at his huge cock resting on his stomach. You just know that he’d be big… you just never thought you would see it firsthand. He’s thick and long, with veins decorating it.
Heat crept on your cheeks as you climbed on his lap and sat on his thick cock, grinding your wet pussy and moaning as you felt him pulsate beneath you. You focused your eyes on the camera that was still focused on you, your hands moving to your breasts as you continued grinding on him.
Aaron leaned forward a little and groped one of your tits, slapping it lightly with a breathy sigh.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Your blush deepened. “Condom, sir?”
“Up to you, sweetheart. I’m not active.”
“I’m on birth control…”
Smiling, you took his cock and ground the tip against your wet pussy, letting out a staggering breath as you sank in slow motion. The thickness of his big cock stretched you like never before. You’ve never taken something as big as this. You bit your lower lip as you felt the slight burn of the stretch, focusing on how Aaron’s chest rose in heavy breaths. 
“You’re so warm, baby…” Aaron moaned quietly. “Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good. Go on, sweetheart.”
It didn’t take long for your movement to become desperate. You started bouncing up and down with vigor, chasing both of your highs. Aaron’s big cock reached spots inside your body you never knew existed, his neatly trimmed pubes tickling your sensitive clit. Your moans grew louder and louder as he kept hitting the spongy spot inside you.
“Oh god, sir…” You moaned pathetically, bouncing on his cock in pure desperation. “Ruin me with your cock, Aaron… you feel so good.”
“You’re so tight and warm, sweetheart.” You frowned at him in confusion when he handed you his phone. “Continue filming while I fuck you.”
You accepted his phone and focused the camera on him. His rough hands found your hips. Without warning, he started pistoling his hips, ramming his big cock in and out of your trembling body. You felt the burn of every drag of his cock and you’re not even sure if you’re still capturing something on your video.
“I’m coming, baby…” He said breathlessly. “I’ll fill you with my cum, is that what you want?”
You helped him chase his orgasm by meeting his hard thrusts. “Yes, yes- sir, yes, fill me with your c-cum.”
“Can your boyfriend do this, sweetheart?”
“No, sir, no–” You shook your head frantically, tears stinging your eyes. “O-only you.”
“Damn right, slut. I’m the only one who can do this to you.”
You’re not sure of whatever response left your mouth. You’re a babbling, mindless mess. A cockslut who can only think of Aaron’s big dick ruining you in the nastiest way possible. You can feel your peak nearing, making you whimper in ferality.
“I’ll fill you over and over—” His thick fingers tightened around your waist, leaving red, angry marks on your wake. “Until that’s the only thing you can think about.”
A shrill scream escaped your lips on a particularly hard thrust, feeling Aaron’s big cock pulsate inside you. After a few seconds, warm ropes of cum filled your womb. You shuddered at the feeling, clamping your thighs as they trembled excruciatingly. You didn’t even notice that you already let go of Aaron’s phone, completely forgotten on the cushion.
“F-fuck… Aaron—” You moaned in relief, craning your neck to the ceiling. Flashing lights sparkled even on your closed eyes.
His wet lips trailed on your sweaty neck, his teeth sinking in, leaving fresh sets of marks. “I can be a better boyfriend than him, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
You hummed shakily but you didn’t say anything. The way you’ve gone nonverbal filled Aaron with so much pride.
His hands found your waist again, making you whine as his cock slid out of you. Effortless, he thew you back on the bed, now on all fours. The new position felt primal, and exposing. You quickly felt the tip of Aaron’s hard cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt, fucking in the trail of cum leaking out of your used pussy.
“I can do this all night, sweetheart. You won’t even think about him.”
I’d love to interact with everybody! And I sure do appreciate any thoughts or reactions. Don’t forget to drink your water and keep slaying, babes!
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waldau-archived · 4 months
Text
how they take care of you — seventeen | 2,531 words | hurt/comfort, fluff
i didn't know i liked writing ot13 this much!
gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out/tired/scared/ill/sad? y'know, the usual spectrum of negative human emotions?
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seungcheol
gets so concerned when he hears a hitch in your voice when you greet him that he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to you. doesn’t matter if he’s on a call or if he’s doing some important paperwork, he’s all yours now.
gives you a big, comforting hug that tries to shield you from everything but him. kisses your head to try and ground you.
doesn’t make you talk if you don’t want to, but he insists that you don’t keep it in for too long because it’s only going to hurt you in the end. lasts only for a while before asking if there's someone that needs some talking to for making you feel this sad.
tries to do anything in his power to see you smile, even if it's momentary. shows you a funny picture of his favourite child (mingyu) to cheer you up. asks if you feel okay enough to walk kkuma with him, because she needs some time with her other favourite person (you).
“you know i love you, right? that's never changing.”
jeonghan
is proud to be the person that becomes your comfort when something doesn’t go right, or when you’ve had a bad day.
immediately bottles up any jokes he’s about to make and wipes away your tears, stops only when you bat his hands away. even if he doesn’t want to let go of you, he respects your boundaries.
when you're feeling a bit better, he pulls you down into the sofa and cuddles with you, and is content whether you choose to tell him what’s on your mind, or if you want to be silent and fiddle with his shirt instead.
kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes when he promises you that it’s just one bad day, and that he’s always here for all the others. links pinkies with you because he knows how much it means to you, even if it may seem childish.
will resort to tickling you to make the last traces of your sadness vanish, and asks if there’s anything else he can do to make you smile.
joshua
comes to pick you up from work because he has a free day, and realizes something’s wrong the moment you greet him hello without even looking at his face for more than two seconds.
doesn’t make a big deal out of it, though. takes your stuff from you and greets you softly. opens the door for you and buckles your seat belt. asks you if it’s okay that he’s not taking you home first, because there’s some place else he wants to take you.
dismisses any concerns you have about not looking “good enough” to go out, because you look absolutely gorgeous at any time of the day, and he’d never lie about something like this to you. lets you choose whatever music you want as he weaves through the traffic on the streets, telling you about his day.
parks the car and gets out to hold your hand in his as he guides you over to the many stalls, asking you to pick whatever you want to eat. sits next to you on one of the benches overlooking the river, your legs swinging as you lean into his side and enjoy your meal. is glad he could take care of you like this because you needed it.
“trust me when i say whatever happened is not your fault, okay, sweetheart?”
junhui
is more confident in his actions than his words, because he can immediately notice the little changes in your behaviour: your tired smile, and the way you’re kind of curled in on yourself, as if trying to take up less space.
gives you a long hug with lots of cheek kisses and pulls you into the kitchen to show you what he’s working on: a dish that coincidentally happens to be your comfort food. it’s your favourite, especially when jun makes it in his own style.
this six foot man becomes small as he tries to do anything to make you smile. hates that you’re even feeling this way. throws random pickup lines at you to see which one gets you to crack and slap his arm and tell him to stop (he won’t, because he loves you too much).
offers to feed you dinner once it’s ready and makes random airplane noises that bring out a giggle from you. watches as you eat slowly and is glad when he sees your bowl is empty. doesn’t resist your offer of feeding him dinner once you’re done.
hides under the blankets with you and watches cat videos till your eyes shut from exhaustion and his arm hurts from holding up the phone from so long. cuddles with you and doesn’t let go even when you halfheartedly complain about how warm it is.
soonyoung
becomes so gentle that it pulls you out of your dullness a bit, makes you wonder where your usually hyperactive boyfriend is.
doesn’t baby you because he knows you don’t like it, but he makes sure you get everything you need. calls his mother to ask her the exact recipe for this soup she used to feed him when he used to get ill. stays by your side even when you have a raging fever and you’re worried he’s going to catch it if he kisses your cheek one more time.
doesn’t complain even once when you wake him up because of how uncomfortable you’re feeling. what else is he there for, if he can’t take care of the person he loves the most? wraps himself along with you in your blanket even if it’s hot enough that he can just melt.
is your hype man when you finally get better enough to start moving around the house by yourself. watches you with the biggest smile on his face that he will not tamp down when he sees you eating the soup he made, and almost cries with joy when you ask him for a second serving.
doesn’t blame you one bit when he catches the same bug a week later, because you’re there to take care of him through it, and because he loves you too much for it to be an issue.
wonwoo
gently pulls you into his chest the moment he sees your tear-streaked cheeks, and rests his head on yours. doesn’t ask you what’s wrong because he feels it’s more important to make you feel better.
doesn’t care that your tears are leaving behind a spot on his shirt, and shushes you for even pointing it out. in fact he wants you to do that so that you can run out of tears and he can take care of you properly.
gives you his hoodie to wear because it’s oversized on you, and he loves seeing you in it just as much as you love wearing it.
makes you wrap your arms around his waist from behind and cling onto him while he goes about the house finishing his share of chores. does yours without asking if he senses you’re too drained out to do them.
absolutely needs you by his side regardless of what he’s doing, whether it’s playing a game or brushing his teeth. offers to read you a book if you’re having trouble falling asleep. tells you he loves you in the lowest voice possible when he sees you finally asleep against his chest, breathing evened out.
jihoon
might not very verbal, but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to do to make things better.
knows you’re in his studio when the door shuts, but you don’t greet him. decides to finish some edits on the song he’s working on before he turns to you, only to find you lying on the sofa facing away from him.
genuinely sad to hear you had a bad day. he got through today only because of all the encouraging texts you sent him. decides the least he can do is return the favour.
wraps you in your favourite blanket that he always keeps at the studio for when you visit. holds your hand regardless of whether you want to talk or not. offers to order food to the studio so that he can make sure you’re not hungry.
very thankful that you came to him because you were feeling down, and he very much wants to call it a day and take you home so that he can cuddle with you and make your day just a bit better.
seokmin
his mood almost always mirrors yours, so when he sees you so exhausted and down, his heart genuinely hurts.
not a confrontational person, but he’s willing to fight whatever made you sad, even if it was a table you stubbed your toe on. happy that it brings a smile to your face even if he didn’t actually fight anything.
have you seen his arms? wraps them around you till you push him off with a bit of a smile on your face. he then decides he wants to use them to bake something for you. you’re the better baker between the two of you and since he’s got loads of time today, he decides he wants to learn something that he can make the next time you’re away and he doesn’t have to feel that lonely.
is your own personal jukebox. belts out whatever song you want, and does a mini infinite aju nice in the comfort of your kitchen, making you jump while the oven works, till you’re tired and actually smiling.
“it’ll be okay, i promise. i love you.”
mingyu
hates that you had a nightmare but is thankful that he was sleeping right next to you when it happened.
the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever see you in your life. when you wake him up with a shaky voice, he immediately blinks out of his sleep and holds you in his arms. he’ll hug you and keep hugging you till he can drain your sadness even just a little.
doesn’t matter how late it is; if you can’t go back to sleep, he’ll pull you to the kitchen and make his ramen just for you. makes you help him chop some ingredients and stir the broth so that you feel involved. keeps purposely bumping into you every time you cross paths and takes a kiss as payment.
finds some cheesy, slow music to dance to and gently pulls you all over the kitchen, twirling you and even bending you as the song ends. loves hearing your laugh when he pulls you back up.
“i hope you dream of me when you sleep again. i love you.”
minghao
words aren’t necessary when he can just take care of you the way you always deserve to be taken care of.
actually gets upset (a little) when you apologize for crying in front of him. who else will make you feel better when you’re down if not for him? makes you promise never to feel nervous to be emotional around him.
runs a bath for you and makes your favourite food. when you’re done with dinner and feeling a bit better, he takes you to bed and cuddles with you, wanting you to focus on his breathing so you can calm yourself. he whispers endearments into your ear. also makes sure you know how proud he is of you for getting through today.
would give you the entire world if he could, but when you tell him the only thing you want is him, he promises you he’s never going anywhere, no matter what happens.
“i’m so lucky to call myself yours, my love. always.”
seungkwan
he can never stand seeing his loved ones sad, so when he sees you, he needs to find a way to make your smile get back to your face.
sees your lips wobble when you say hello to him, and he eventually coaxes the issue out of you: your friends had ditched a get-together you’d been planning at the last minute, and they didn’t even have the decency to apologize for it. he feels extremely angry on your behalf and is ready to curse. doesn’t do it only because it won’t help you.
thinks about what he can do to make you happy. asks if he can take you out on a drive tonight so you can watch the stars with him. when you regretfully decline the offer, he asks if you want to create a blanket fort and watch movies or go to sleep.
it’s not long before he’s constructing a blanket fort for the first time in his life thanks to some youtube tutorials. he’s upset when it collapses right in the middle of constructing it, but he realizes he’d build it a hundred times more if it meant you’d laugh the way you just did.
sets up snacks and your favourite drinks after a while. keeps apologizing to you on behalf of your so-called friends till you tell him to stop. promises that he’s always going to be with you, and that you don’t have to be sad when you’re with him. falls asleep with you in his arms, and a smile on your face, snacks and movies forgotten.
hansol
feels bad the moment he sees you try to mask the sadness on your face with a smile.
better with actions than words, so he kisses your forehead and trails you around the house while you try to relax from the day you had. if you’re really sad, he lets you just rest your head against his collarbone and breathe till you feel better.
“you’ve got this, and you’ve got me, okay? i’m right here.”
has a bunch of handmade coupons for whenever you feel sad. each coupon has the same four options: eat, talk, watch a movie, sleep. does whatever you choose, whether it’s only one or all four.
another one who has no problem with prolonged eye contact. he looks at you till you understand that he loves you more than he can say and that he’s always there for you when you feel like this.
chan
always used to being babied by his older brothers, so he feels happy to get a chance to take care of you. just doesn’t like the fact that you’re sad, because you deserve to be anything but.
very transparent with his affection for you. he whispers “i love you” into your hair when you ask him for a hug, shouts it across the living room when you come out to get some water, and holds your hand under the table during dinner even if it’s inconvenient.
if you’re really down, and don’t feel like talking, he bundles you into a blanket and puts you on the sofa and sits close to you, so that you have your space but he’s close enough if you need him.
sits with you while you work and watches intently even if he doesn’t understand much of what you’re doing. ready to go to the store and get you anything you’re craving, regardless of how late it is.
“i love looking after you, okay? don’t ever feel bad about telling me what’s troubling you.”
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched
@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
Text
Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 
A03
Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 
Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 
Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 
More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 
 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.
Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 
Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 
He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 
(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 
He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 
"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 
Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.
Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 
Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."
"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.
"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 
Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 
Would Harrington pitch a fit? 
Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 
Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 
Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 
Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 
Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.
"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 
Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 
"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  
"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.
The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 
"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.
He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 
"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 
A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 
How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…
He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 
"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 
He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 
There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 
Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 
Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."
Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 
The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'
Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."
"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 
He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 
He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.
 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 
"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."
Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.
Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 
A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.
(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)
A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.
"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.
No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.
Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 
He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 
Several somethings, in fact. 
"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 
"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 
Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 
An unfair advantage, really. 
‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 
Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.
"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 
Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.
Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 
"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 
Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.
 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 
"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 
It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.
Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 
Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 
Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.
"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 
"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"
Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 
He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 
"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 
"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 
Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 
"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 
Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 
"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 
"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.
Judged.
Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 
Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 
"Anybody else?" He asked. 
"Nobody human." Steve replied. 
"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 
He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.
"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 
Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 
He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 
The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 
With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 
All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 
Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 
The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 
Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 
"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.
Steve blinked. "Uh…" 
"You take any today son?" 
Steve his head. 
"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 
Course he hadn't. 
"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.
Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 
He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 
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crypticminx · 7 months
Note
nate w reader that has baby fever
Hi anon, this was fun lovey xx
Baby Fever with Nate Jacobs
Slight breeding kink mentioned but not rlly, ditzy reader, Nate being reasonable??
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა
“Nate”
“No.”
“But Nate—“
“Y/n, please.”
You stare at your now provoked boyfriend, who is frustratingly trying to get through his school work. He’s sat at his desk, his books messily sprawled across the surface of the smooth wood, textbook open and notebook filled with neat handwriting as he burns through each question. By this point, his mind is eagerly fighting to stay focused, but as long as you’re there in his bed beside him, he knows he won’t finish.
“Nate!” You yell again, this time biting your tongue from laughter as you can see his face grow red with tension.
“Y/n, I said no,” he runs his fingers through his hair, feeling like he can’t keep up with neither you or his homework. Defeat wasn’t an easy solution for him.
“But whyyy,” you whine as you turn off your phone and lay on your chest, your legs happily kicking away. Dressed in nothing but Nate’s oversized sweater and some knee high socks, he would be an absolute liar if he didn’t find you so desirably hot in this very moment.
But he also found the strength to maintain his composure with what little self respect he had for himself.
“Because we’re too young to have a fucking baby,” he sighs, stopping himself from raising his voice at you without the further intent of making you feel like you’ve done something wrong.
It doesn’t phase you though.
You roll your eyes, exaggerating the size of them as you huff in annoyance of your boyfriend being extremely noncompliant with your needy request.
In all fairness, it wasn’t your fault.
You were cute. Nate was really fucking cute. Thus, the rash realization that the two of you would definitely make cute babies.
“Okay so not now…,” you speak to him as if you’re trying to trick him. The way your voice trails with giddiness sets him to believe that whatever you’re conspiring isn’t going to be reasonable or ideally realistic.
He stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes don’t flash their usual sparkle and he seems rather unimpressed by how good you are at making him feel irked.
“Sooooo what about tomorrow?”
He slams his textbook down, the noise is loud and almost thunderous as you slightly jolt. Your smile fades as you can see he might actually be upset, but it didn’t make sense.
When the two of you got down to business, he praised you. He acted like he worshiped the very ground you walked on and treated you like a princess. He’d whisper things to you—very private, sentimental statements that made your heart flutter with an overwhelming sense of pride.
And now he was mad at you?
You cross your arms, trying not to let out all the steam burried inside your frustrations as he was quick to apologize.
“Babe, I’m sorry,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead as he took a seat next to you. He ran his fingers down your bare thigh, the smooth motion of his hands were enough to make you feel relaxed again, but he wasn’t off the hook.
“If you’re so sorry, why can’t you give me a baby…” you pout, tossing him a big frown that almost made him feel sorry for you.
He doesn’t know how to explain it, it seems you’re too cooped up in your own little fantasy world where having baby isn’t unrealistic and wouldn’t be a huge deal.
“Y/n,” he carefully plays with your hair, pushing a loose strand behind your ear to see the full extent of your face on display, however, you didn’t seem happy. “We’re in high school, how are we going to juggle having a baby?”
“Ugh,” you push him away, playfully of course, “don’t give me that talk, Nate.”
He shrugs his shoulders, letting his mind trail to the possibilities of getting you pregnant. and in all honesty, it didn’t seem too bad. He always wanted a child, but the timing and the moment just didn’t match up with that idea.
It would cause havoc, with both your family and his. He had no doubt about that as he could hear his fathers aggravating voice shout in his head, telling him how much of an awful father he would turn out to be. That alone was offputting.
“Don’t you wanna cum in me?”
And there you were, edging him with that soft voice of yours that knew how to get him riled up with heat. You bat your eyelashes, titling your head with a devious grin.
“Fill me up with your baby? I know you want to….Nate.” The words roll off your toungue as he fails to keep himself from melting away. He wants nothing more than to make you his—but would he ruin his life just to give you something that you want?
That would be something the two of you would find out—in a few months time.
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