#b: a diner floor

[antikittysocial]

:o

Please draw more t.sprout content... im begginff...

He dropped by to say hi

[sorrowsaint]

if you arnte playing scrimp music i dont wanna HEAR it.

[ivysangel]

fratboy!dick being your first fuck, he brags about to his buddies about it and sends a photo of you asleep beside him sporting a shit-eating grin, captioning it "winning" only to drop you hours later for a new girl the morning after.

fratboy!jason is your first suck/bj in a restroom after he asks you out on a milkshake date. to spite dick, he sends an update to the groupchat with a pic from his pov where you're on your knees, busy and oblivious to the camera aimed at you, and captions it with "milkshake no.2 tastes real good"

i'm tweaking over the fact that i missed this because this is literally just too good. i've literally BEEN obsessed with virgin chasing fratboy!dick like if you looked through me and kazz's you would see many a convo about that topic.

he's literally so manipulative; he purposely befriends you just to get in your pants, feigns interest in your hobbies just to gain your trust so he can fuck you then dump you. and he preys on your naivety, knows that you're apprehensive about losing your virginity to a fratboy especially dick because he's got such a messy track record, so he makes sure to reassure you constantly, telling you that you're "different" and that he's "never felt this way before." and every time you second guess the motive behind his actions he does something to make you feel like you're the only girl in the world, stealing your heart until you finally give in and let him fuck you, stealing your virginity.

the worst part is how loving he is during the whole process. he goes so slow, asking how you're feeling with every stroke, wipes away any tears that might escape from your eyes while you're getting used to the feeling. he keeps up the charade that he's in love with you the entire time that he's inside of you, and then he just leaves and pretends that he never even knew you and the only proof that he did is the pic he took of you while you were sleeping and the $50 he venmo'd you for plan b the next morning.

nonnie, i think we're so on the same wavelength because i have BEEN obsessed with the concept of fratboy!jason being a bj lover for ages. like i even briefly mentioned it in my fratboy headcanons post, and what i put wasn't even my original idea. i was originally gonna say that he held the record for most blowjobs received in closets and bathrooms in the entire frat's history. but anyway, back to what you said.

"milkshake no.2 tastes real good" is some crazy work, and i'm actually kind of upset that i didn't come up with it but whatever. fratboy!dick and fratboy!jason hooking up with the same girl just to get back at each other despite neither of them actually having feelings for her is actually so disgustingly real. and a bitch is gonna keep coming back because the dick is great!!! fantastic!!! phenomenal even!!!

the thing with jason is that despite being in a frat, he refuses to publicly associate with them and therefore has half the school thinking he's some sexy loner with no friends when he is, in fact, a legacy pledge and incredibly well respected amongst the brothers. so he's posted up in the university library, chatting you the fuck up with his knowledgable takes and dry-ass humor. convincing you to go on a date with him isn't hard at all, and somehow, despite you being freshly devirginized with approximately one body, neither is getting you to suck his dick in the dingy bathroom of the diner he took you to.

you're on the floor, dirty, offputtingly sticky tile pressing into your knees while you suck him off, really putting your neck into it because he's hot and you want him to come back for a round two in the near (hell, even distant) future. he snaps a pic of mostly the top of your head, features barely identifiable to absolutely anybody but dick who A) either calls him immediately (jason declines) or B) blocks him because even though he didn't actually like you this still somehow breaks bro code (dick is weirdly possessive over his virgin conquests).

jason never tells dick that it was one of the worst blowjobs he's received in his life and that you used way too much teeth because the ego boost from pissing dick off is way too good.

[lexirosewrites]

O!Steve is pregnant w Tommy's baby out of wedlock & he knows Tommy will use the pregnancy as a means to essentially trap him in a horrible marriage he doesn't want.

It's 1969, abortion is now newly safe & legal in California so Steve makes a decision. B!Robin helps as he gathers all the cash he has hidden away under the floorboard in his closet; Christmas money, birthday money, and painstakingly saved wages plus tips from working the ice cream shop every summer. Robin gives him all of the tips she'd saved as well.

All they need now is a ride out of town & all the way to California. Steve’s car is recognizable & registered to his father. Robin can't drive except for her bicycle, but she is skilled at reading a road map. There's no one they can rlly trust with the truth of their destination, till A!Eddie Munson stumbles upon them on the side of the road by the Hawkins sign.

He recognizes them, they of course recognize him, and he reveals he's skipping town to bum around California following music festivals and chasing fame. Robin tries lying for them saying they're just headed to California for a summer anywhere but Hawkins. Eddie doesn't seem to believe them, throwing glances Steve's way.

After 3 days they scrounge together some money for a motel room & they all finally get the chance to shower. Eddie takes the opportunity while Robin is showering to bring up tht Steve is obviously pregnant. He promises he won't say anything again after he gets an answer to his question: is Steve safe if he returns to Hawkins without a baby?

Steve breaks down into sobs as he admits out loud tht no he's not safe in Hawkins at all. Not even in his childhood home. That while he does want to b a mom he doesn't want to b one yet, doesn't want to have a child with this person, doesn't want to end up married to someone who'd only restrict his few freedoms till there was only a shell left behind. Robin comes out of the shower to find Steve crying in Eddie's arms.

Eddie vows to them both he'll help Steve get to California.

Eventually they get to San Francisco & Eddie goes w Steve to a clinic. The procedure is done with Steve holding Eddie's hand. In the end Steve asks to b w Eddie through the summer & Robin goes back to Indiana on a bus w promises tht Steve will write to her. Noone pretends Steve or Eddie will go back to Indiana ever again. A summer of music festivals in California turns into autumn in a town outside Seattle & Eddie’s found work in a mechanics shop while Steve waits tables at a diner. They've found a place to live, and got their mating officially registered at the courthouse. In their free time Steve paints and Eddie plays his acoustic guitar. Till three years have passed & they decide they're both ready for a baby.

Their little girl is born with ten fingers and ten toes on May 18th, 1971. Exactly 3 years to the day tht Eddie let a pregnant Steve & worried Robin into his van on his way to California.

the bar might be on the floor for men, but alpha Eddie being pro-choice, supportive, and helping omega Steve get the abortion he needs to be safe will always make me melt😭💕

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 7

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: intense conversation, I guess?

wc: 2.2k

Chapter Selection

“Jason, I swear to god - it's fine!” I giggled softly, unlocking the door. He just continued to glare suspiciously at a car parked on the street below. 

“I don't trust it… you said it's always there?”

“I said it's basically always there. It moves once in a while. I think they just don't drive much.” I held the door open, gesturing for him to come inside.

“... Hm. … I'm gonna check your doors and windows tonight.” He pushed through to the kitchen, setting his bag on the counter. I followed after him, unpacking the groceries.

“This is the fourth floor, and the building has a security door. Do you think someone's gonna break in through my window?”

“Yes.” A sharp, young voice behind us called out. I shrieked, and Jason grabbed the butcher's knife out of my knife block, throwing it into the living room.

When I turned the knife was implanted in the wall above the couch, and a very grumpy Damian Wayne was glaring up at us from his seat. “... You missed.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, demon brat?” Jason glared, walking over to retrieve the knife.

“Tt. I'd think you would be glad I've proven your point.” He trained his sharp eyes on me; “let Todd fix the security in your stupid apartment. If I can get in, who knows who or what else can?”

“... Fine, but only because that was seriously terrifying... Damian, right?” He nodded, staring at me. “... How'd you find my apartment?”

“Your address was included in Drake's background check of you.”

“... Ah.”

Jason frowned. “You still haven't said what you're doing here?”

“This is what families do, Todd. They spend time together, they introduce their girlfriends to their siblings, they eat dinner. Now what are we having?”

“Oh no, you are not staying for dinner!” Jason frowned. “Go home!”

I frowned a bit, watching the small boy. Something seemed wrong here. From what I knew, Damian didn't typically behave like a normal child; him coming here, claiming to want to spend time with his brother, seemed inconsistent with how Jay had described him. He wasn’t looking at either of our faces, looking instead just vaguely in our direction. His school uniform was disheveled, and his backpack was tucked by his feet like he was trying to hide it.

I gently touched Jason's arm, shaking my head when he looked at me. I gestured to the boy who was now glaring at my tv, flipping through my streaming recommendations in an obvious attempt to seem casual. “Jace, If he wants to stay for dinner, I don't mind.”

Jason stared at him for another minute before growling a bit. “.... Does B know where you are?”

“I am not an idiot, Todd.” Damian snapped.

“That sounds like a no to me.” I fished through my wallet for the card he'd left me with at the diner a few weeks prior. “You can stay, Damian, but I am going to tell him you're here. I don't want him thinking you're dead in a ditch somewhere, or kidnapped.”

The boy stared in my direction for a moment. “... Tt. … Do what you want.”

I turned to Jason and smiled softly. “Will you start on the sauce while I call?”

He nodded, kissing my forehead, and I took my cell phone onto the porch. The call was answered after the first ring.

“Hello, Mr. Wayne? This is-”

Once again he spoke my name before I had the chance to introduce myself. “I remember. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, sir. I just called to let you know, Damian invited himself over to see Jason. He's safe.”

After a long moment the man let out a deep breath. “... Good god, that boy is going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Thank you. I'll be there in 20-”

“Actually, sir, I don't think you should. … I know I don't know him very well yet, but he seems … off, from what Jason's told me about him. … I don't mind Damian being here; if something upset him and this is where he chose to go, it might be best to let him be for a while?”

“... I need to speak to him, please.”

“Yeah, one second.” I slid the door open and popped my head in. “Damian, your dad wants to talk to you.”

He frowned and slowly approached. He took the phone like he thought it would bite him, and I went inside to give him some privacy. I wrapped my arms around Jason's waist while he cooked, leaning into his back.

He tilted his head back a bit; “... You're allowed to tell him to go.”

“I know. But I'm not going to. Either he actually wants to spend time with his big brother, or something is wrong, and he didn't want to go home. In either case, I'm not going to make it harder for him to process whatever's brought him here.”

Jason thought for a moment before shifting to wrap an arm around me, kissing my forehead again. He whispered; “how’d you stay so good, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Gotham isn't a city for goodness. It eats its people up and spits out mangled husks of what we once were. It's dark, and rough, and cold. Gentleness is a luxury in Gotham, kindness is practically unheard of. … So how'd you stay so … warm?”

I looked up at him, unsure what to say to that. I knew he had a rough childhood, we'd talked a bit about our pasts, but this was something else. “... There are people in this city who fight every day to keep Gotham running. They stop the darkness from consuming us, so normal people like us can live normal lives. The least I can do is not invite darkness in, and maybe light a few candles once in a while. … Besides, in this particular case, he's your baby brother. Eventually getting to know the family is pretty typical girlfriend stuff, yeah? I'd like to be someone your family likes, at least well enough to not object to my presence in your life.”

He stared into the sauce, absentmindedly stirring. “.... How could anyone object to perfection?”

Just then, Damian gagged loudly behind us. “You're getting sappy in your old age, Todd.” Jesus, how did he move so quietly?? I didn't even hear the door open…

Jason rolled his eyes. “You're free to go if you don't like it, demon spawn.”

“No, no I'm fine.” Damian held my phone out to me, looking away awkwardly. I took it, chuckling softly.

“Alright, Dami, any homework?”

“Do not call me ‘Dami’. I am Damian.” He frowned. “And I finished my homework hours ago.”

I raised my hands to indicate surrender. “My apologies; Damian. Alright, no homework, so what do you want to do tonight? I've got some board games, or we can watch a movie?”

He looked me over, frowning a bit. “... you would be no challenge in a game. So we'll watch a movie.”

I chuckled softly and nodded. “Movie it is. … Do you have anything to change into?”

He frowned a bit and shook his head. “... The uniform is fine.”

“That can't be very comfortable though. … I bet I have a shirt you could wear. It'd be baggy on you, but you're welcome to it. Wanna take a look?” I offered him my hand and he eyed it disdainfully but did follow me to my room. I found him a t-shirt that didn't fit me anymore which he deemed ‘acceptable’ and I showed him to the bathroom to change.

Jason snorted softly when he saw the boy come out in the shirt and his under shorts - it covered him to his knees, and he looked so little; like a toddler dressed in their finger painting clothes. I smacked Jason's arm, helping him cook. “Go ahead and pick a movie, Damian. Dinner will be ready soon.”

The boy nodded slowly and took a seat on the couch, scrolling through the options. When everything was ready I brought over our bowls, sitting on the opposite side of the couch from him. Jason sat between us, staring at Damian.

We sat in silence for a while, only sort of watching the movie Damian had picked out. I could feel the small boy's eyes on us periodically, like he was watching for something. When we finished eating, Jason pulled my legs over his, resting a hand on my knee. I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around my thighs.

“... So, … how was school?”

Damian scoffed slightly. “... Fine.”

“Good, good. … Jay mentioned you're an artist.”

The boy frowned, pulling his legs in so his knees were against his chest. “... I guess.”

“That’s cool. I took a lot of art classes in school too. What's your favorite medium to work with?”

Over the next couple hours, Damian slowly opened up a bit. But every time I thought we were getting somewhere, and he might tell us why he came, he'd shut back down instead. Jason mostly just watched and listened to us; he had made some progress in the ‘talking about vulnerable topics' department, but it was obviously very different with family. After a while he cleared his throat;

“Damian, it's getting late. Shouldn't you be getting home?”

The boy frowned at him. “It's not that late, Todd.”

It was approaching 11pm, but it was a Friday. It occured to me, I had no idea what was an appropriate amount of staying up late for a kid of Damian's age... “... If your dad doesn't mind, you can spend the night. We can make a pillow fort!”

He tilted his head, a confused look on his face. “A pillow fort?”

I chuckled softly. “First text your dad, make sure he's ok with you spending the night.”

In an instant, his cell phone was in his hands. Jason sighed softly, fixing an amused, but slightly annoyed look on his face. “... So much for date night?”

I chuckled softly, gently squeezing his hand and kissing his fingers. “You've had me all to yourself for months, surely one night with family won't kill you?”

“Yeah, Todd. Don't be so insecure; share.” Damian smirked a bit.

He groaned softly, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine. But this will not be a habit, demon child.”

Damian's phone lit up with a text. “... Father says it's ok with him.” 

I nodded. “Alright, let's make a pillow fort then!”

“... I should probably go home for a minute and get some clothes if we're doing this.” Jason frowned a bit.

I nodded, smiling brightly. “Sounds like a plan! We'll be here.”

He nodded once and leaned in to kiss my cheek. Damian stared at us, a thoughtful little frown on his face, and Jay turned on him; “be. Nice.”

“Oh, calm down, honey. He's not going to bite me.” I stroked his shoulder gently. They stared each other down for a minute before Jason pulled his shoes on and headed out. “Alright Damian; you get the couch blankets from that cabinet, and I'll pull some stuff off my bed.”

We got to work, making a fort big enough for all three of us to sleep in the living room. After several minutes, Damian looked over at me.  “... You like Todd?”

I chuckled softly; “yes, very much.”

“... He's broken, you know. Not good enough for you.”

“... Everyone is broken in some way, Damian. No one is perfect, the world doesn't let us be. Love isn't about being perfect, it's about looking at someone and saying ‘I choose you, I want to stand beside you even when it's hard'. It's about approaching complications as ‘us versus the problem’, and accepting each other's weirdnesses.”

I smiled softly, looking over at him. Damian was holding a pillow, frowning deeply at it. “... Even if he hurts you?”

“Do you think he's going to?”

“... He could.”

“So could a dedicated duck. He's not special in that regard.” The boy smirked at that. “And what's more, I could hurt him too. We just have to trust each other. To have each other's best interests at heart, to not want to hurt the other. And I do, I trust that he's a good man.”

“... Even if he used to do really bad things?” He whispered, still staring at the floor. Something told me we weren't talking about Jason anymore. Not exclusively, at least…

“... People do bad things for lots of reasons. If Jason told me he did something bad, I would at least hear him out; I'd want to know why he did it, what else was happening, did he think it was good at the time? Does he regret it, would he do it again? There are so many questions to ask before passing judgment. … Doing something bad does not make you a bad person, Damian. Sometimes there are only bad options, and we have to pick the one we think we can live with. … Sometimes kids end up in bad situations, and have to do bad things to survive. That isn't the kid's fault, that is the fault of the adults who were meant to protect them. It does not mean those kids become unlovable adults.”

He didn't look up for a long time, but when he finally did he refused to look in my direction at all. We finished building the pillow fort in silence.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika 

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a 

[mcumorningstar]

Friday Nights

pairing: riff (wss) x reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, oral (m receiving), exhibitionism

summary: After having Riff’s hands all over you at the dance, you can’t help but pull him away into the shadows.

a/n: mike faist world domination ‼️ I’m hyperfixating so bad rn. He’s just so gorgeous.

“Where the fuck is Riff?”

The Jets without dates shrugged from their places on the outskirts of the dance floor. Ice clenched his jaw, his date securely tucked underneath his arm.

“He’s dancing with… Y/N…” Baby John scanned the crowd of dancing couples, failing to see either one of you.

“Numbers and Action left with their girls so if anything happens without Riff here, we’re outnumbered,” Ice said pointedly to the Jets within earshot.

Mouthpiece and A-Rab nodded, as Ice and his date rejoined the dance floor.

Unbeknownst to them, you had taken Riff’s hand halfway through a number and weaved him out of the crowd underneath the bleachers.

You found privacy there and, after the past few hours of being so close to him, you couldn’t deny yourself any longer.

As soon as you were in the shadows of the bleachers, you crowded him against the wall of steps.

“We should go,” Riff panted with pink kiss-bitten lips as your hungry mouth moved to his neck, licking and sucking his sweat-salted skin.

You shook your head with a mischievous grin, “I wanna keep dancing… Just need you to myself for a couple minutes.”

“Oh yeah?” A wide smirk plastered across Riff’s lips and his eyebrows lifted, looking down at you. His strong hands gripped your hips tighter and held you close to him.

You and Riff had been going steady for a few weeks. He treated you to milkshakes at the diner, he took you dancing every Friday night without fail and you two even went to the drive-in movie theatre once.

He was certainly charming.

But you weren’t sure you were quite there yet. Riff has a special way of making your stomach swirl but the Jets had a reputation amongst your friends for being… town bikes.

“Yeah, I like seeing you like this,” You smiled, letting that hang in the silence for a moment before taking a step back, “Wanna head back?”

Riff watched you with half-hooded eyes as you straightened your appearance. His hair was mused and his cheeks were rosy pink.

Looking through the gaps between the stairs, Riff assessed the dance hall. Lonely singles sat above you, waiting to be asked to dance, their shoes tapping to the beat of the music against the bleachers.

Did he want to go back..? Riff would rather spend the rest of the night hidden away with you, but you wanted to dance so he’ll dance.

He turned back to you and stood up straight, “Let me cool off for a minute.”

The bulge in his trousers was evident as he stepped further out of the shadows. It looked sizeable and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

Riff adjusted himself and the front of his trousers, straightening out his shirt and collar.

“You need a hand?”

The words escaped your mouth before you could think and Riff almost snapped his neck turning to look at you.

Silence hung between you for what felt like eternity but was in actuality a few seconds.

“I mean… if you want,” You shrugged, only now realising that you were ready to give yourself to Riff in that way.

“Sweetheart of course I want that,” Riff took your face between his hands, “Are you sure? We can just go back to dancing.”

Wordlessly, you wrapped your fingers around his belt and pulled him closer, your hips flushed to his. His unfastened belt buckle caught against your hand as you tugged down his zipper and lowered to your knees.

Riff helped you pull his boxer briefs low enough to free his aching cock. You gasped at his size and he groaned at your reaction to him, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

He was being so gentle with you. It was hard not to give him your all right away.

You started with kitten licks and soft kisses to his shaft, running your fingers through his happy trail and settling your hand on his thigh.

The other held the base of him as your tongue traced the vein across the underside of his cock.

Riff groaned from deep in his chest, gripping a metal bar from the bleachers framework above him. His other hand flailed in the air as he struggled to decide whether to hold onto you or not.

The hand on Riff’s cock ran along his toned stomach and took his free hand in yours, interlocking your fingers, as you wrapped your lips around him and took him into your throat.

“You can take it sweetheart,” Riff encouraged, his voice thick with lust.

Bobbing your head up and down, you worked up a rhythm that had Riff tipping his head back and biting his bottom lip.

He managed to muffle most of his moans and heaving breaths but the slick sounds coming from your mouth around him were hard for him to ignore.

Luckily the lively Jazz music of the dance hall bounced around the room, concealing your noise.

“Fuck baby, you’re so good at this,” Riff praised, low and rumbling. A smile graced your face despite your mouth stretching around Riff’s thick cock.

You moaned in appreciation, the vibrations making Riff moan and buck his hips, pushing his cock deeper down your throat.

Saliva dripped down his cock onto his balls. You pulled back to catch your breath, kissing his hand before untangling your fingers from his and stroking him.

Gripping him at the base, you took him in your mouth again and worked up another rhythm to prolong his pleasure.

Sweat beaded at his temples and his chest heaved. Riff wrapped his hand around the side of your neck, his thumb tilting your head back to meet your eyes.

The sight of him above you, ruined by pleasure, made you moan. The vibrations made Riff shiver. You met his eyes and his muscles trembled, pleasure shooting through him.

“Oh baby I’m gonna cum,” Riff groaned, biting his lip. His grip on the bleachers framework tightened, his bicep bulged and the veins in his forearm protruded.

You smiled giddily around his cock and reached up to massage his balls. A sinful moan sprung from his throat and his head fell back, ropes of warm salty cum coating the back of your throat.

Swallowing everything he gave you, you couldn’t help but laugh. Riff tried to catch his breath, a sheen of sweat coated his skin.

You rose to your feet, refastening his trousers and belt before tucking his shirt in and straightening it out.

Riff wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flushed against him. His face buried in the crook of your neck and pressed soft kisses to your skin.

You stood like that for a moment before pulling away. Riff looked you over before crouching and brushing his fingers against your slightly scuffed knees.

“Worth it,” You giggled as Riff stood to his full height, towering over you. He adjusted your dress and ran a thumb under your bottom lip, tidying your smudged lipstick.

“Beautiful,” Riff whispered with adoration in his eyes.

An arm wrapped around your waist and held you close, “Ready to dance, girly girl?”

“Just one more kiss and then we dance,” You rose onto your tiptoes, meeting him halfway and kissing him with raw passion.

Riff pulled away, barely an inch, “Just so you know, I’m returning the favour as soon as you let me.”

“You’ll have no complaints from me,” You kissed him quickly and nipped at his lip before taking his hand and heading back to the dance floor.

The eagle-eyed Jets whooped as you and Riff reappeared, less put-together than when they last saw you.

“Enough’a that,” Riff was stern but in good spirits, pulling you under his arm as you giggled.

The Jets fell silent, despite mischievous smirks and knowing looks.

None of the Jet boys would ever say anything to you. Riff was their leader and he’d have their necks if so much as one bad word went against you.

You were his girly girl, his sweetheart, his.

“C’mon doll, let’s dance,” Riff grinned down at you, swerving you between other dancing couples to the centre of the room, “Wanna show you off… and then you’re coming home with me.”

At that, your mouth went dry. Riff bit his lip as he watched you swallow thickly.

After a moment to recover, a smirk twitched at your lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “One more song then we go.”

Riff dipped his head to capture your lips with his before twirling and dipping you in time with the music.

You couldn’t wait for what was to follow, and every Friday night to come.

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things: chapter six

Aizawa x reader fic

cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)

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Fridays are also the only day where you don’t go directly home after work. Instead of catching the late night Orange line, you snag the Blue and take it down, down, down, right out of the city and it’s the almost surreal serenity of the suburbs. Street lights and cars turn into trees as the sun dips low. Only the ambient sounds of your music and the wheels on the tracks keep you company as you pass familiar stops, all the way to the end of the line.

From there, you walk: down the dark sidewalks, across the one lane roads, stopping only in the little diner along the way. It’s hours later when you finally make it to the doorstep. Before you can knock, the door is ripped open.

“You’re late.” The shortest woman you’ve ever seen stands there, hands on her hips and glasses shoved to the top of her nose bridge. Her scrubs are baggy, but clean, with the name of her service stitched on the pocket: UA Palliative. “I thought you were hit by a car.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you try to laugh her concerns off.

“And you’re sweaty.” Nurse Chiyo clicks her tongue at you as she hands you a face mask. “You should really let him send a car.”

A car would be faster, but you can’t justify someone footing that bill when your metro card has money on it. “The exercise is good for me.”

The woman scrunches her face and gestures to the bag you’re holding. The bottom of the brown paper is practically see through with grease. In the other, you have two styrofoam cups, taken from the diner down the road. “And that food is good for you too?”

“It’s a friday treat.”

“Just don’t feel bad if he’s not hungry,” she sighs with the weight of someone who knows. “Towards the end, the appetite tends to dwindle.”

You slip on your face mask and slip off your shoes. Toshinori Yagi’s home drips with old money; subtle detailing mixed with hints of extravagance, it's the air of wealth with none of the gaudiness. The halls are sparsely decorated, only the occasional artwork and statue to keep you company as you walk to the back of the home, past the luxurious, yet almost never used kitchen and through the abandoned living room. There, in the middle of it all, hangs an oversized picture of Yagi back in his acting days.

If it was anyone else, it might seem egotistical, but the man on the wall might as well be a completely different man, a Yagi from another universe. Bound solely in brightly colored latex, this Yagi grins ear to ear, flexing an obscenely thick bicep for the camera. The Hollywood cameras and actors are a blur in the background. It’s from the set of his first All Might movie-- the one you’ve seen hundreds of times. The longer you stare, the more jagging it is. At 55, Yagi is twice the man that he was in his twenties, but a quarter of the size. All of the important pieces are there -his smile, his laugh, his energy- but there’s a part of him, always locked away in a time where this picture was taken.

You press on into the study. This room is a stark contrast from the rest of the house; it’s cluttered, all flat surfaces stacked with magazines and printed articles. Coloring pages litter the floor, in between broken crayons and pencils.

In between it all is a stick of a man, dirty blonde hair buzzed short enough you can see the shape of his skull. He’s pouring himself over some reading, tired eyes tracing the page with a monotonous haze. He’s lost weight again; you can see it in the sharp dip of his cheeks.

“Happy Friday.” You rap on the door frame and he jolts up in surprise. Hand over heart, he laughs in delight, even though he knew you were coming. “How are you?”

“I thought-” He inhales. You can’t remember all of the details of what’s happened to him, but you know one of his lungs is practically nonfunctional and the other struggles keeping up. “You’d be celebrating your birthday.”

“You remembered.”

“Of course.” He pushes up to stand, but you wave him back down. “You should be. Out with friends.”

“I’m happy where I am, sir.” You place everything on the table in front of him and then retreat to your side, your drink still in hand. Once you’re far enough away - six feet- you take off your mask. “Chocolate Peanut Butter shake and extra crispy fries, just for you.”

It’s his favorite. No, it doesn’t have the nutrition he should be getting, but… well, he’s going to die no matter what. Let the man have a fucking milkshake. He takes it in both hands, like he’s cradling an award or a piece of gold.

The first time cancer struck him, Toshinori Yagi decided to leave acting and do something with his money. He didn’t have a family to take care of -- and his sister is independently wealthy-- so he invested in medical technology. He hired a team that knew better than him, put some of them through school, and grew a rather successful business from the ground up, no formal training of his own. Now, ironically enough, he’s wealthier than ever, and still pouring it into product development.

“You do too much.” He picks the darkest fry of the group and crunches down on it.

It’s the least you can do. Isolation is taxing; you don’t mind sacrificing a bit of time and $19.76 for a quick meeting and meal. You settle down in your usual spot- a fluffy velvet chair in the corner of the room- and take a long sip from your own drink.

“How are things with Shouta?”

You choke so hard it goes up your nose. How did he know? Did the interns figure it out and pass along the word to the whole office? How are you going to explain to your boss that you’ve sexted his colleague? Or did Aizawa tell him? Oh, what if he shared those pictures--

“Wh-what about him?”

Yagi gives you a strange, tired look, brow knitted with a kind concern. “You called me- about his employee?”

You physically sigh with relief; no one knows. Everything is good; you need to stop panicking. Aizawa won’t share the pictures; it’d ruin his career faster than it’d ruin yours. Besides, he’s apparently embarrassed of you, so why would he even show you off? “Oh, well, everything’s good. Kaminari is back in the office.”

Your boss chews a single fry for a long while. A melancholic twang stirs inside you. No, you haven’t known him as long as some people, but over the years you’ve gotten attached. He’s a fair man, a good one too. Watching him waste is… it’s hard. Plain and simple. On the books, you say that you visit for work, but it’s honestly a social call, something to quell your worries.

“He wasn’t very happy when-- I called,” Yagi draws in from his nasal tube as he talks sometimes and it cuts his words short.

“Yeah, I know.” That’s an understatement. You chew on your straw as you try to decide how to respond. “Aizawa had some choice words for me afterwards.

The look on Yagi’s face tells you that he already knew that. Word always makes it back to the big boss one way or another; even sick, he always has his fingers in every pie.

“Don’t let him-” He runs out of breath in a weird spot. “Push you around. He’s a strong personality.”

That’s an understatement too. You wish you could stomp your feet and demand for his removal, but unfortunately Aizawa is very, very good at his job. Besides, you don’t especially want him fired. Maybe just… a series of paper cuts everyday for the rest of his life. Or that his train never comes on time. Nothing serious.

“Trust me- I won’t.” You throw an arm up and flex. “I can put up a fight.”

“No fighting.” The man tries to give you a stern look, but it just looks a bit silly. As demanding as it sounds, it's like being scolded by a grandfather; there’s too much affection between you for anything to feel threatening. “Don’t wage any wars in my office.”

“No promises!” you tease. “Ready to go over reports?”

He smiles back, those hollow cheeks pulling into tiny apples. “Of course.”

…

It’s late when you finally make it home. Yagi had forced you into a car, calling it a birthday gift, and the drive was long and quiet. The driver turned on some soft music, songs with the tinkle of piano, and you almost dozed off by the time he rolled into your apartment complex.

You kick your heels off and strip out of your work clothes as you enter your apartment, letting everything stay where it falls. In the wake of Touya, your place is pretty much empty, with the carpet still pressed in spots where lamps and tables used to be and a jammed lock that won’t click closed. The less time you spend here, the better. You throw yourself onto the couch -something too big to take, apparently- and flick on the television. The usual mindless garbage you like is already on; perfect background noise as you play on your phone.

There’s nothing super new going on. Couple of group chat notifications. Nemuri had texted you to check in-- so did Hizashi. And-

Aizawa’s unopened messages stare at you. There’s no reason to read those texts, right? It’s just mindless sex talk. In fact, he probably doesn’t want you to ever see those texts again.

…Unless he said something important. Maybe he had told you to play dumb at work! Oh, that would open its own can of worms, but at least it would explain why he said to forget everything-

Wait, that wouldn’t make sense. You two were alone at that point. He could have been normal or said something like ‘wow, love your tits!’ or--

Ugh. He wouldn’t say that! Ugh!

You pull on your messaging app again. You need to get this over with.

-> I bet you looked so pretty when you came.

The preview still makes your skin prick with unwanted excitement. The lust nipping at your ankles isn’t easy to ignore as you tap the button and open the conversation. The immediate visage of your words, your drunken musings and flirtations, makes you physically cringe. Luckily, the new messages take up enough space to keep you from seeing your own nude visage.

The first response hits you like a truck.

-> Do you have any idea what I’d do to lick your fingers clean? What I’d do to smell your perfume on your skin?

The thrum of your heartbeat goes funny for just a flash of a moment and you have to shake off any semblance of arousal. No-- you do not like this. There’s absolutely nothing sexy about that thought! You don’t want the warmth of his tongue or the tickle of his breath against your pulse point, or that little bit of scruff against your lips-

The video is below the first message. It’s paused on an out of focus still, but you can make out the golden touched skin of his stomach and the blur of hand. Heat flickers in your core at that, but you tense your legs and try to ignore it.

Get yourself together. It’s just a fucking jerk off video. You scroll right by it.

-> Look at what you do to me. It’s all for you.

There’s a couple of minutes between that text and the final one.

- >I think you fell asleep. Talk in the AM.

And… that’s it. Nothing else.

That told you nothing, other than the fact that Aizawa Shouta is just like any other man: a horny freak. A sexy, amazing texter of a freak, but still a freak regardless! When you move, you can feel the wetness between your legs spread against your pussy lips.

You turn over and try to focus on the medical drama that’s onscreen. Ugh. Ugh! You're over this man and his fucking bipolar attitude and his work bullshit and his, his, his….

The click on the wall ticks away.

His kind of alluring demeanor.

You turn back to your phone. Maybe the video has an answer. Yeah.

The volume on your phone thrums with audio, low and deep, when you click the image. It takes you a second to realize it’s a groan- unabashed and loud- and you swear it resonates deep down into your own lungs.

This video is aimed a bit higher than the other and is shot from farther away, probably resting on a desk from the looks of it. It feels silly that you ever confused him with Touya. Shirt clutched between his teeth, Aizawa’s skin is a deeper color, completely untattooed, and his chest is filled out with weight. A broad, thick hand is white knuckle tight around his cock, glazed and dripping with wetness. It’s thick, oh god, it’s thick, and he’s holding it so tightly that it must hurt. Your jaw aches at the sight of it. Everything about him is wide//, from his cock to his thighs to his slightly soft middle.

A bead of precum rolls from his tip as he slowly drags his hand up and back down. His entire body jumps and twitches with the sensation, a red blush tickling down his chest and another moan on his lips, muffled by the fabric of his black shirt. He makes the same sound again, this one softer, almost affectionate--

And you realize something that feels like a punch to the gut.

He’s saying your name.

Heat flushes your body. Oh, you can barely breathe out of fear you’ll miss something. With a high, tight sound, Aizawa’s body goes stiff, but his cock kicks as he comes undone. Spend splatters down his chest and onto his black shirt, pearl string after pearl string. Just like everything about him, it’s too much.

And then the video ends.

You digest this for a long moment. Then, you watch it again. And a third time.

There's a tremor in your hands as you put your phone down. Okay, that didn't give you any information, but it- well-

Fuck, it was hot. Really fucking hot. Unfortunately, terribly, awfully, horrendously hot. You want to scream and kick and rub your clit just a little, because all you need is a little friction and you'll cum for him again--

No. You can't give that victory to him, not again. Even if Aizawa will never know about it, the universe will.

You grip the remote and turn up the television's audio, trying to shift your focus on to the interpersonal drama on the screen. You’re stronger than this. The little thing between your legs does not dictate your behavior!

You don’t jack off that night.

Or the following night.

Or the following.

No, you resist. You punish yourself for even entertaining the idea of cumming to the idea of him again.

Monday morning you are unsurprisingly cranky when you settle into your desk. Kicking off your shoes and booting up your computer, you stretch in your chair and try to pop the kink in your shoulder. Thirty must be catching up with you, because you didn’t sleep well all weekend. Every muscle in your back is bunched, but the little bits of movements seems to be helping-

“Jesus fucking christ, I'm sweating through my fucking shirt.”

Bakugo's accent slips out as he gripes, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck as he walks. It’s easy to forget that he and Izuku grew up in the same hometown, but when he’s genuinely pissed, that homecooked Southern twang comes out. You look up to see what's gotten him so aggravated before nine. Sweat dampens his hair and glitters his skin. Oh, and he's right, that white shirt is absolutely clinging to his middle, into that tight, tiny, toned, slutty little waist of his--

Oh, god. You slam your foot into the edge on your desk in hopes the pain douses whatever horny monster had overtaken you. Is this just life now? Practically drooling over every man with a pulse? Bakugo Katsuki is gay and very much not your type-

“You okay?” Izuku gives an awkward laugh. He and Denki are apparently right behind Bakugo, equally worn. Well, almost equally. Denki doesn't seem to be sweaty at all, despite his puffing. “You're like, making this weird face.”

Shit. Quick-- lie. “Cramps.”

“Damn, hate that,” Kaminari grips his stomach in sympathy. The other guys share an uncomfortable glance.

“So-” You change the topic. “Why are you guys..?”

“The elevator is shot.” Bakugo hooks a thumb behind him towards the stairs. “Had to carry this fuck ass bed up to the fifth floor for that meeting today.”

The investor meeting: even though Toshinori Yagi is wealthy, the newest bed prototype still needed outside funding. These fine millionaires require occasional proof that their money is being used well, so once a quarter they get jammed into the nicest room in the building and get a rather boring lecture from the important department heads. You usually sit in and try not to nod off when Enji starts in with the accounting information.

“The entire elevator?” You lean back in your chair and try to see. Sure enough, some technician is fumbling away at the buttons. “No one tell the ADA.”

“Actually, the ADA is a law, not a governing body,” Izuku chirps. “It's enforced by the DOJ, EEOC, and, oddly enough, the DOT-”

“How do you know this shit?” Denki says.

“Healthy curiosity,” Izuku tries to say.

“‘cause he's a fucking genius.” Bakugo says at the same time, louder and more confident. “Using that big head of his all the time.”

Izuku touches his temples with a concerned frown. “You think my head is big?”

“Massive.” Bakugo elbows his lover, all saccharine smiles. “It works for me though.”

Kaminari snorts and the other blonde throws him an icy glare.

“What? You gonna make a joke about massive head?”

Kaminari throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes, surprisingly annoyed at the jab. “I was going to joke about his head working for you, but whatever! Ruin my fun.”

“As much as I love head jokes-” you interject. “I do need to get work done.”

Kaminari turns to you with the sweetest of smiles, so syrupy that everyone else recoils a bit with suspicion. “Like what?”

“Getting everyone’s powerpoints together, printing out our reports, putting those reports into actual human words and not engineering garbage, greeting our guests-- blah, blah, blah.” Just talking about it makes your head ache. “Plus the other daily reports and---- Kaminari, no.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“You were going to ask me to do your work again!” you say.

“Come on, please?” He puffs his bottom lip out like a kicked dog. “I have to leave early this week and -”

“Denki, you’re so fucking stupid.” Bakugo groans. He starts to leave and the other two follow behind. “I'm too tired for your shit today.”

“There’s a gay joke hidden in there.”

“I'm going to report you to fucking HR.”

“See you at lunch?” Izuku asks from over his shoulder. You shake your head-- you’ll probably just sneak one of the forgotten italian ice cups from the freezer when no one’s working. There’s so much to do and not quite enough time.

--

You’re solving that little frozen treat into your mouth when Aizawa makes his appearance. It’s strange to see him so late in the day; pure embarrassment must be keeping him away. His usual sunny yellow sweatshirt means you can’t even pretend not to see him when he rounds the corner.

Aizawa is as he always is; a bit scruffy and properly annoyed. His expression is neutral, if not a bit sour, but the crinkle in his brow is tighter than ever. The bunch to his shoulders only gets higher when he spots you.

This is really the guy that's been tearing you apart? Really? Why couldn't you have fallen for Hizashi or Enji or-- anyone else that isn't wearing a neon hoodie in the office.

“You should really take a proper lunch.” Those deep bags under his eyes are darker than usual, almost purple; he must be drained, but he’s been avoiding the coffee machine. A twang of sympathy hits you-- lack of caffeine might actually kill the guy.

When he walks towards you, you're reminded of how pretty he is, even without proper sleep. High cheekbones, smooth olive tone skin-

Your fighting spirit almost fades, but the post it note taped to your monitor catches your eye. Be mean. Yes, that's right.

“Well, uh. What do you want?” Your tone is a bit snappy.

His eyebrows twitch up in momentary surprise, but Aizawa recovers quickly.

“The elevator won’t be fixed until tomorrow.” He raps his knuckles against the wood once. “Move the investor’s meeting from the top floor.”

“Say please.”

Aizawa is half turned and midstride when he realizes what you said. He looks back at you, brow knit.

“Excuse me?”

“I said.” You hit the spacebar with a bit too much force. “Say please.”

“I-” You expect him to fight or argue, but he just sighs, hands on his hips in defeat. “You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't demand things. Can you please move the investor’s meeting from the top floor down to the ground floor? Thank you.”

That was more sincere than you expected. Your stiff upper lip almost wobbles. Almost.

“No.”

He gives you the most deadpan stare you’ve ever seen. “What do you mean, no?”

“I said no.” You push back from the desk and let your wheeled chair roll away. “There’s no reason to move it. The room upstairs is already set up for the meeting-- full demo bed included. I’m not moving everything.”

A muscle tightens in his jaw. Seems like that good attitude is on a short fuse. “There's a second demo. I'll have the boys wheel it into the meeting room on this floor-”

“It’s a less finished model though, right?”

“That's…” Aizawa huffs. You know you’re right and so does he. “Yes. Sure. A less complete model, but it’s still leagues ahead of what they saw last time- ”

“We shouldn’t use it.” You have no right bossing him around, but you try to embody Bakugo and his cunt-like behavior. “They are going to see the best we have to offer. Besides, the fifth floor meeting room is bigger and nicer-- and it's already set up.”

“I-” He leans forward, arms crossed on to your desk. It’s not threatening, but rather humble, as he meets your eye. The silver healed skin of his scar catches the light differently than the rest of his face. “It’s four full flights of stairs.”

“And you can walk.”

A beat passes. Then another. Aizawa stares at you, dark eyes hooded with exhaustion.

“I have never, ever thought of you as a cruel person.” He doesn’t blink the entire time he speaks, deep, endless black eyes boring into yours. “But time and time again, you show me that side of you. “Well-” You don’t blink either. “I’ve always thought you were awful.

“Fuck you,” he grits out, quiet but with an edge. His lips are curled so high you can see his gum line.

You should let it die here. Let him walk away. Escape with your dignity.

But your teeth and tongue are sharp, and the look on his face is only sharpening their edges, so follow the instinct and go in for the kill. As you stand, you lean on to your hands and push yourself face to face to Aizawa. Unabashed, unafraid, unblinking.

“You wish you could.”

His face collapses. Then, it hardens again, even tighter and more disgusted than usual. The flat ridge of his nose is crinkled with a snarl, eyes narrowed so thin they're practically closed. When he pushes away to stand, Aizawa jams his hands into his sweatshirt and flexes his jaw, up and down like he's chewing on every insult and curse he wants to throw your way. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again with a deep exhale.

“Fine.” He says through closed teeth. “Fifth fucking floor.’

And with that, he turns and marches off back down the hall.

By the time you breathe again, you realize your hands are quaking. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins, rushing your heart faster and faster. This must be how a marathon runner feels when they cross the finish line-- because this is victory.

Sorry, Yagi. War has been waged.

You did say no promises.

[strawbeelemonade]

PLATONIC HEADCANNONS: being miles morales best friend but your also a bit insane (Part 2!)

i'm gonna try to remember to start specifying when something is intended to be platonic or romantic.

🕷- I was literally unable to cram everything I wanted to say in the first one.

🕷- Miles is really only comfortable showing you his drawings.

🕷- He's an incredibly awkward guy, but the words come so easily when he hangs out with you. he doesn't choke up like he does with other people at school.

🕷- When he gets his powers his first instinct is to call you. He’s literally halfway through punching your number into the keypad until he stops and decides against it. He knows your number off by heart now.

🕷- You appear and disappear like a ghost its so random.

🕷- Honest to god, he lowkey thought you were homeless until you invited him over to watch Barbie Mermaidia.

🕷- “Bibble is so me.”

🕷- He’s the only person you let over at your place. its small and in the basement of an old apartment complex. the landlord couldn’t get anyone to pay to live there. you live alone.

🕷- You struck a deal, and they let you crash there as long as rent was on time and you fixed their washing machine for free.

🕷- Miles asked how you got to live there for so cheap. You tell him it’s because someone died on the couch he was sitting on.

🕷- He sits on the floor.

🕷- Miles is so eager to share his new powers with someone.

🕷- No seriously, between all the stress and lying and anxiety its nice to let himself get excited about it. To let himself have fun and see what he can do.

🕷- You guys TOTALLY video tape him trying out his new powers for the first time.

🕷- I can imagine you finding an abandoned alleyway on some random ass street after school and filming Miles Trying to do a backflip LMAO.

🕷- You gotta fish him out of a trashcan after he tries to spider climb up the wall.

🕷- You know that thing where a group of friends duck tapes one of their friends to a wall for fun? You get miles to do that to you.

🕷- You guys can’t stop laughing, The best memories of your lives are in those videos.

🕷- He’ll take you up to the top of buildings to show you the graffiti art he painted!! he’ll let you sign it off with a dick and balls or a heart if you want. You guys do homework up there together as well.

🕷- ’M & (Y/I) were here’ has been painted on every available surface of New York.

🕷- You both have the bright idea to hop on his back and go web slinging around the neighbourhood. He can carry you easily.

🕷- Miles decides If you don’t tell him to slow down, then he’s not going fast enough.

🕷- You NEVER tell him to slow down.

🕷- “Faster!!!“

🕷- Now that he’s got super strength he can put you in an inescapable headlock, he doesn’t do it too tight but he holds you there until you tap out.

🕷- He takes you to the coolest spots with the best views.

🕷- You regularly cover for him.

🕷- “We were at Jamba Juice the whole time officer I swear.”

🕷- Miles side eyes you knowing damn well he was no where NEAR a Jamba Juice.

🕷- ’Thanks’ he’d mouth.

🕷- You and Petter B will get along like a house on fire.

🕷- While Miles is extremely unimpressed by him, you don’t seem to care about any pre-existing expectations one might have when you think of the guy behind the mask of Spider-Man, your cracking jokes and feeding your pet rat a couple of French fries while the three of you sit in the diner, planning your next moves carefully.

🕷- Peter B can tell you’re a good kid. He’s at an age where a lot of your batshit tendencies don’t really faze him as long as your not hurting yourself.

🕷- Speaking of which.

🕷- When him and Miles get the chance to talk alone he warns him that he needs to be careful.

🕷- He tells him that normal relationships aren’t possible anymore. And stresses to him what a life like this can mean for your loved ones. especially since you found out his secret. This line of work isn’t just dangerous for Miles, but for you as well.

🕷- Miles is a little shaken after the conversation, no matter how gently Peter tries to put it. But what he’s implying is clear. He tries to shake it off and enjoy the time you both spend together. He won’t admit to himself that Peter is right just yet.

🕷- It’s just so easy to tell you everything and rely on you.

🕷- There will be a moment sometime in the future when reality sets in, but for now Miles makes the same mistake every Spider-Man does.

🕷- He has a best friend. :(

🕷- On the other hand, Peter comes to the staggering realisation that your actually extremely prone to accidents and danger all on your own. And he appropriately does a complete 180 from ‘casually distant bum-uncle' to ‘I am your dad now’.

🕷- It’s Nothing personal, kid. now stop trying to get in the middle of fights with dangerous criminals and let the adult— or at least the guys with super strength, stamina, speed and resilience— handle it.

🕷- He demands you stay out of the crossfire, but, to no one’s surprise you don’t listen.

🕷- You’re willing to throw yourself in front of Miles to shield him from anything, much to your best friends terror.

🕷- You hold your own surprisingly well against opponents that would be considered reasonable threats otherwise. You’re resourceful, grabbing anything and everything you can get your hands on. you get a terrifying look in your eye.

🕷- No matter how impressed Peter is, He will slingshot you around with his web-shooters to propel you out of the way of oncoming attacks. He will do this for both of you, but feels the need to do it less for Miles. He knows he can take what’s on the other end of the punch. But No matter how untouchable you make yourself out to be, you can’t.

🕷- “Do I want kids?”

🕷- He takes you on as his responsibility just as much as he does Miles.

🕷- Spider-Gwen also looks out for you in battle.

🕷- She’s more laid back, and even a little suave about it too.

🕷- She secretly wishes she had someone like you in her universe. What she wouldn’t give to decompress with you after a long day of patrolling New York.

🕷- She’s actually the most normal about you having a pet rat. You know, the one you grabbed out of a garbage can in a subway station. Yeah, That rat.

🕷- Miles watches you both get along like a house on fire and just quietly falls behind you both since he’s not sure what to do or say.

🕷- He’s so awkward, poor guy.

🕷- Your tendency to go off for days at a time ignites everyone’s curiosity. it’s a concerning habit, and Gwen even endeavours to follow you to see where you disappear to so often.

🕷- She’s unsuccessful.

🕷- It's never said out loud, but when she’s facing the one-way ticket home she finds herself wanting to stay just a bit longer. Not just for Miles, but for you to… She wonders what you’ll get up to while she’s gone.

🕷- …

🕷- Peter Porker vibes with you so hard.

🕷- no wait don’t scroll away wait

🕷- he WILL gift you the freakishly large cartoon mallet. Sorry, but miles didn’t appreciate it for what it was.

🕷- He would be cracking jokes and doing bits with you through out the whole goddamn movie.

🕷- Miles can usually let you do your own thing without sparing a second glance, but the looney tunes laws of physics that Porker exhibits WILL rub off on you at least a little.

🕷- It’s contagious. And when you start flattening eachother into to perfect discs it freaks everyone out a little.

🕷- He’s got enough to worry about in the plot,,, Damn,,

🕷- Spider Noir teaches you how to throw a good punch

🕷- in exchange you let him mess with your phone as much as he wants

🕷- "how the hell do you work this thing?"

🕷- He likes you, he thinks you got a lot of guts.

🕷- You were actually the one to design Miles’ suit. He took inspiration from one of your drawings in your school notebook.

🕷- You've always believed in him, and that made him believe in himself too.

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 8)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: With one month of sobriety back under his belt, Rafe feels like his life is finally falling into place.

Masterlist

Rafe’s one-month sobriety is finally coming up and to say that Stella is excited is an understatement. Y/N explained to Stella that Daddy hadn’t shown symptoms of his sickness for a month, much like cancer remission. Stella doesn’t fully understand the milestone her father is about to achieve, but she knows a party for celebration should be held. So she insisted to her mother that they throw a surprise party. Y/N closed down the diner so it could be held there and Stella wanted a superhero party because Rafe is her hero. “Mommy, the banner needs to be higher,” Stella orders, moving her hands up to illustrate her point. Y/N nods and motions to Sarah to do as told. Nobody says anything about the fact that the sign says Happy Birthday on it. Once the little girl gives her approval, John B. comes over to help them tape the string to the wall. Thanks to the party, Stella got the opportunity to meet her aunt’s fiancé and her dad’s friends. Topper finishes placing out the snacks, picking Stella up to get her approval.

“What do you think?” he asks, resting her on his waist. She nods with satisfaction, “Good, Uncle Topper. Can I have a chocolate, please?” She looks around the room to make sure the last part is only heard by her uncle. “Okay, but don’t tell Mommy I gave it to you before you had lunch,” he chuckles, leaning over to grab her one. 

Half an hour later, the diner is set up for the surprise superhero party. Rafe texted Y/N that he was five minutes away and everyone went to their hiding spots. Stella and Y/N are hiding at the front of the counter so they are the first people he sees. As soon as the little bell jingles, the lights turn on and everyone pops up from their hiding places, yelling surprise. Rafe steps back a little, tripping on his feet and falling out of the door. “Daddy!” Stella worries, trying to jump over the counter to check on her father but is stopped by her mother. Rafe shoots up from the floor, “I’m okay. I’m okay, little witch.” He rushes to Stella, bringing her over the counter to comfort her. Her tiny cries die down at the feeling of his lips on her temple. He rubs her shoulders, bouncing her a little. The Happy Birthday sign causes him even more confusion. “But it isn’t my birthday?” he whispers to Y/N. She giggles, “She wanted to celebrate your one-month sobriety. Don’t worry, she doesn’t know what it really means. And they didn’t have any superhero signs celebrating sobriety.” Rafe nods in understanding, giving Stella another kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the party, little witch. I love it. Forever and Always,” he thanks. Stella beans at her father’s words, “Forever and Always.” “Baby, why don’t you tell Daddy why you wanted a superhero-themed party?” Y/N suggests. Stella looks at her dad, “Because you're my hero!” Rafe’s heart absolutely melts. 

Rafe does his rounds, greeting everyone at his party. “Your girl is great, Rafe,” Topper comments, patting Rafe on the back. Rafe looks over at Y/N, “Yeah, she really is.” Topper sees the dad’s line of sight and laughs. “I was talking about your daughter. But I see you still have a crush on your baby mama.” “Don’t call her that,” Rafe threatens. His friend’s hands shoot up and he walks back with an apology. 

“Daddy, time to play the games!” Stella announces, grabbing his hand. He lets her take him to the poster on the wall. Pin the cape on the superhero. Stella goes first, getting the cape right where it should be with a little guidance from her dad. It is obvious to everyone but the little girl that the adults purposely did bad so she could win. The next party activity is decorating superhero masks, which the adults love. “Wow, Daddy. Your mask is pretty,” Stella awes. Rafe smiles at his little girl, “Thank you. I made it for you.” He helps her put the mask on and she hands him hers to put on. Y/N’s heart pounds at the sight before her, taking a picture of the pair. Rafe spots the piñata and his interest is peaked. Y/N notes his gaze, “We can do the piñata now if you want.” He nods, getting up with Stella in his arms. Of course, she goes first and when she gets pouty about not being able to break it open, Rafe hits it open for her. The candy falls out and she squeals in happiness. 

The pizza finally arrives and then the cake is next. Stella thinks that whenever there is a cake at a party, the guest of honour has to blow out candles. So everyone sings Happy Birthday, per Stella’s request, and watches him blow out the candles. Once he gets the candles out, Stella shoves her father’s head into the cake with a laugh. Rafe’s head straightens out and he gives her a fake annoyed look. Her giggles continue so he gives her a kiss on the cheek, getting frosting all over it. He can see Y/N snicker as well and gives her the same treat. She takes it a little less like a champ and gives a small yell, running away from Rafe. He laughs, chasing after her to bother her some more. “It’s just a little frosting, Buttercup. It won’t hurt you,” he teases, finally catching up to her. 

Y/N doesn’t like it. The little flutter in her heart as he wraps his hand around her waist and blows raspberries on her neck, frosting going everywhere. “Button, stop it,” she whines, bringing her ear close to her shoulder to stop his attack. He stops at her plea, grabbing a napkin from the counter to wipe the mess he made away. She never ceases to be surprised at how sweet and considerate Rafe can be sometimes. Her lips find his cheeks as a thanks for his help. 

——

The party soon comes to an end and everyone helps bring down the decoration. Stella wanted so many decorations that Rafe had to take some stuff in his car and bring it over to Y/N’s house for her. The house is quiet as she opens the front door, holding it open for Rafe. The little gremlin that normally fills these walls with screams is sleeping over at her Aunt Sarah’s house for the night. She had begged to be able to stay the night for the first time, especially since Sarah promised sugar and a spa night with John B. as their servant. “Where can I put this?” he asks, showing her the box of extra cutlery and plates. She points to the counter, “You can just leave everything in the living room. I’ll go through it all tomorrow morning. I’m way too tired to think about it tonight.” 

They get all the boxes in the middle of the living room and flop down on the couch together. Y/N reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. “In all of Stella’s excitement this afternoon, I forgot to give this back to you. Kinda ironic that I forgot since it was the whole reason for the party. It’s like going to a birthday party and not celebrating the birthday person,” she explains, handing Rafe the small disc back. He holds his hand out, “Thank you. It��s okay. We all know the party was really for Stella.” “Yeah, that’s true.” Y/N’s fingers ghost his as she places the chip into his hands. Her eyes dart up to see him already staring at her. The moment of silence that passes over them isn’t awkward; instead, they seem to be communicating everything they have been feeling for each other. Rafe takes the shot they are both too scared to take and leans in. His lips find hers. He almost sighs in relief when she starts to kiss him back.

Her leg swings over his hips and she starts kissing down his neck. His head throws back, allowing her more access to his neck. His hands find a way to her waist to encourage her to start grinding on his lap. Her hands find the top button of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning them one at a time. She gets the front of his shirt open and she pulls his shirt off. Her kisses turn into licking a long stripe down to his v-line. She gives a quick kiss just above his pants before breaking away from his skin so she can pull his pants down. With the rest of his clothes off, she gets to work at making him feel good. Her lips start to move down his shaft, using her tongue to circle around his tip as she would soft-serve ice cream. “You are going so good for me, Rafe,” she praises. She reaches between her folds to collect some of her juices to lessen the friction of her hands pumping the rest of his cock. When that isn’t enough, she pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his tip to the bottom of her lip and spits on her hands. “Y/N, faster. Please, good girl, go faster,” Rafe pants, gently pushing her head down his dick. Tears begin to form in her eyes as she chokes on him and his twitching cock tells her he is about to cum. 

His fingers lace through her hair, “I’m about to cum.” Right as he says the words, ropes of white shoot out of him and into her mouth. She swallows everything while looking directly into his eyes. He grins at her, grabbing her hips to pull her back up. His back slides down the couch, arching so his body is off but his head is at the edge of the cushion. The position may be uncomfortable, but what he is about to do makes up for it. He brings her over his face and immediately gets to work. His hand flicks her skirt over his head, moving her underwear out of the way as well. 

He kisses her clit before he starts sucking the bud. His tongue works in tandem with his lips to cause her head to throw back in pleasure. “Ugh, just like that, Rafe.” She can feel his cocky smirk against her and starts to grip his hair. His mouth moves to her hole, darting his tongue inside of her. The circular motion of his tongue quiets her moans, so he brings his finger up to her clit. This garners a response as she starts to grind against his face. “There you go, Y/N. Tell me what you want. Take what you need,” he mumbles, going back to pleasuring her. Her moans are louder than they were before, “Rafe, I’m going to- to.” She doesn’t get to finish as her orgasm washes over her. They both take a second to catch their breath. She gets off of his face and stands off the couch. Motioning for him to sit down. His eyebrows knit as she heads to her purse to pull her phone out. He quickly understands when the music starts “Sweat” by Zayn starts to play. 

Her hips start to move to the music, pulling her shirt off her head to reveal her lacey blue bra underneath. She moves herself back onto his lap and starts grinding. Her hands round her back to unhook her bra. He helps her out of it, kissing the top of her breasts. He wants to suck her nipples, but she removes herself from his hold. She pulls off her skirt, taking her time with her underwear to tease him. She dangles the pair on her fingers waving it in front of his face. Rafe grabs it and throws it across the room in annoyance. She giggles. “Come here,” he growls, pulling her in by the waist. His hands play with her boobs and his mouth works on making a hickey on her neck. She gets to work on making sure he is hard enough to take her. Once she is satisfied, she positions him at her entrance and sinks down. His attention is pulled from what he is doing and he lets out the loudest moan he has ever. He grips her waist helping her up and down on him. Her head throws back, “Harder, Rafe.” He can do nothing but obey, bringing her until his tip is about to slip out and slams her down on him. His hips buck up to meet her movements. She continues to move on him, sometimes stopping at the bottom of his shaft to swirl her hips. He notices her eyes closed like she normally does close to her climax and presses down firmly but softly on her stomach, just below her belly button. This causes her to squeal as her climax comes early and she wants to hide in embarrassment as a waterfall amount of liquid leaves her body. The contraction of her pussy around him sends him over the edge, shooting his seed into her. She gets off of his dick and collapses onto him. Her head buries in his neck. His arms bring her impossibly closer to him and he kisses her forehead. 

“You squirted on me,” he is finally able to breathe out after a few seconds. She nods slowly, “I did. I’ve never done that before.” He grins to himself and looks down at his now soft cock, realizing he isn’t wearing a condom. They got so caught up in the moment that they forgot. “Shit, I’m not wearing a condom,” he points out to her. She nuzzles herself into his chest, kissing his collarbone, “It’s okay. We used one last time and look where that got us.” 

“Where it got us is with an adorable daughter who we love so much. I’ll Uber the morning after pill tomorrow morning for you.” 

She wants to respond, but she falls asleep before she can. He is about to get up off the couch to clean them up, but sleep captures his state as well. 

——

Rafe wakes up in the middle of the night to a kink in his neck from falling asleep sitting upright. Y/N is still in his arms, her breath falling steadily. He kisses the hickey he made on her neck and brings one arm around her bum, the other around the shoulder. He rises slowly to make sure she doesn’t fall, heading toward her bedroom. Her head softly hits her pillow with his help. He kisses her forehead and heads to the bathroom. The towel in his hand is slightly damp upon his return to her bedside. He gently opens her legs and wipes away the dried arousal on her thighs. He throws the towel into the hamper, not bothering to put clothes on him because of the summer heat. He pulls the light blanket on top of them and cuddles into her back. 

——

Y/N wakes up in Rafe’s arms. She doesn’t remember heading to her bedroom, so he must have brought them here. Her blanket is pulled at the foot of her bed, leaving both of their naked glory available to anyone’s sight. She turns in his arms to find his eyes still closed. She gives a soft smile, leaning up to give him a kiss on the nose. This causes his eyes to flutter open with a massive grin and return the kiss but on the lips. “Last night was spectacular,” he whispers, resting his forehead on hers. She nods, “It was. Just as great as the last time. I can’t believe it took us five years to do that again.” 

“Me too. I should’ve gone after you. Actually, I should’ve gotten sober sooner, then we could’ve had those five years together. I could’ve been there for you and Stella.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay. You found your way back to us eventually.”

“I did I want to stay in bed with you all day. Like we should’ve all those years ago.”

“We can, I’ll text your sister to ask her to keep Stella for the day. I’m sure they would both love that idea. They can continue plotting to take over the world.”

Rafe laughs, grabbing his phone and hers. “That sounds amazing. And I’ll Uber the pill for us. Do you think I can get them to bring it to your bedroom? I can’t stand the thought of leaving you for a second.” She chuckles at his words, “That really would be the dream, but I don’t like the thought of a stranger in my house. And I highly doubt you would like the idea of them seeing me naked because I don’t plan to get up either.” “I would not. I guess I’ll get up when the doorbell rings,” he agrees. Y/N shoots forward when she sees Sarah’s text that they are on their way. She is about to get out of her bed to get changed, but the door is thrown open and Y/N screams at the sight of her daughter and hopefully (very distant) future sister-in-law. Rafe leans over to cover them with the blanket while Sarah covers Stella’s eyes. 

“Stella, why don’t you show me your room?” Sarah suggests, guiding her niece to the other bedroom. The couple can overhear their daughter’s words, “What were Mommy and Daddy doing naked?” Y/N’s face finds a place in his neck, trying to hide the mortification on her face. “Please tell me that our daughter did not just walk in on us naked after an amazing night of sex,” she begs, looking at her with worried eyes. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Buttercup. I can’t.” “God, this is going to be so awkward to explain,” she groans, sitting back on the bed. The doorbell rings and Rafe scrambles out of bed. “Well, Buttercup. I’m sorry to say, but you might have to do that explanation alone. I have some medication to get.” He doesn’t seem to realize he is still naked. “Button, you’re still naked,” she calls out. He is quick to get back into her room to put some clothes on, “Shit, my clothes are in the living room.”

——

After Rafe has to run to get his clothes so his daughter doesn’t see him and an afternoon of trying to explain the adult game Y/N and Rafe were playing, Rafe is finally ready to go back home. Stella is too busy watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch, so it gives her parents a second to talk to themselves. “I was thinking… Maybe we can go on a date?” Y/N asks, bringing her nail up to her mouth so she can bite it. Her eyes are on her hands and he lifts her chin so she can look in her eyes. “I would love that,” he mutters, kissing her lips. They pull apart with a smile. Finally, Stella comes running to say goodbye to her father. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy

[purityonice]

BROZONE NSFW HEADCANONS!!

Requested? yeah :)

🥽 JOHN DORY

He’s the strongest out of the five brothers due to all the hiking and stuff so he can definitely hold you mid air while fucking you.

Doesn’t know where the clit is-

Cronic masterbaiter. 🧍🏽‍♀️Has busted to pictures of you even if its an innocent one.

S L O P P Y S E X. Brotha likes it messy.

He prefers to be the dominant one in bed watching you squirm underneath him, His breath jagged, bitting his bottem lip as you anchor yourself holding onto his arms that are gripping the sheets on each side of your head.

But when he’s submissive he loves when you get rough. Grabbing him by the neck as you ride him. His chest rising and falling as you bounce your heat on his member. Making yourself cum as you use him how you want.

He’s LIKE REALLY GOOD WITH HIS FINGERS dispite not knowing where the clit is and not having much experience since he spent 20 years hiking the neverglade trail with Rhonda. He’s just got natrual talent i guess after you tell him where your bean is located… :D

John Dory likes when you get needy, making you sit on the floor between his legs as he slowly sips on his coffee. Not breaking any eye contact as you wait ‘patiently’ the heat of his bulge in your face as he forces himself from taking you right then and there.

He’s really sexually frustrated and pent up from years of isolation so expect him to come to you with a bulge in his pants begging for you to help him. But if you goto him for help he will make sure to make you melt before he actually does anything.

He may be good with his hands but he’s inexperienced with actual sex so you’ll have to help him out to make you feel good.

🏖️ BRUCE

He’s a laid back guy likes laid back sex with so much responsibility he doesn’t have much time to make love with you so he likes taking his tome with you.

After a long day at work he will come up behind you putting his face into the crook of your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. His soft body pressed against your back as the outline of his bulge rubs against your ass while he sways with you.

He is very experienced when it comes to sex, He was the Heart throbe so he could get any girl he wanted. He knows how to drive you crazy and listens to you to help you feel good. definitely knows where the clit is HAHA

He’s a big boy!! so he likes taking you from the back or while you’re ontop of him because he’s scared he’s going to crush you if your underneath him. [Unless you really want to he wont hesitate to give his pretty girl what she wants :) ;)]

He’s not as much of a tease as JD but he still likes to make you flustered. While your working he will come back from taking orders to see your back facing him. Caually walking past you giving you a quick peck on the forehead whispering what he’s going to do to you tonight before shoving the orders into your hands and walking off.

He’s into quickies with 13 kids and a restaurant to run he’s a busy busy man with a busy busy life so when he has the time he will take you into the store room of the diner and take you the and there. Leaving the store room disheveled as he walked off giving you a quick kiss before strutting off to take more orders.

Master pussy eater! Very good with his mouth doesn’t need you to tell him where to go or do he just knows.

He has a high sex drive EXAMPLE your 13 kids together.

Bruces fav place to cum is inside of you because he doesn’t want to get up to clean the sheets so its the best option in his opinion.

He is a biter…

📗 CLAY

He knows where the clit is definitely read up on it. Knows more about your body than you do.

Definitely practices safe sex always has a rubber in his drawer or brings one (or a few) with him to yours whenever he’s in the mood. Wrapping his arms around you before pulling out the condom from his pocket his eyes dark as he pulls you closer.

Clay does not let you go while your getting intimate. Constantly has an arm or both wrapped around you.

He’s gentle in bed loves when your gripping onto him wrapping your legs around his waist that threatened to not let him go. His dick dipping in and out of you as you scratch his back.

Acts like he doesn’t into kinky stuff but when you ask him to wrap a hand around your neck, or you bite and scratch at his skin he sees stars.

Don’t expect sex everyday this man is busy! and isn’t the one to have a quicky so expect sex once every two weeks. but its worth the wait :D

Clay loves looking at your face when you guys get intimate shoving a few fingers into your mouth as he rocks you. Denying he ever did that afterwards as you explain in detail what happened the night before making his face and ears burn.

Gets embarrassed about how into sex he is. Always melting while inside you after a few weeks of celibacy constantly muttering how tight and warm you are. His mouth agape as his body shakes while inside of you threatening to bottem out right then and there.

he’s not as good with this fingers as JD but he still knows his way around your body. Asking if it feels good his eyes stuck on your body as your back is pressed against his chest, your legs spread wide with Clays fingers jammed into your heat. Both of your chest heaving from the heat and pleasure as he pulls you into a wet kiss.

[Silly] Clay looks in the mirror in the morning after touching his marks and bites feeling his ego grow at the amount of them. Flexing in the mirror pretending to be nonchalant while talking to non-existent trolls about how he got them. Gets really embarrassed if you catch him.

He’s an accidental tease he will do things that make you go crazy that he doesn’t think twice about, until at the end of the day your practically begging for him to take you while he stares in confusion about what could’ve brang this on.

💎🩷 FLOYD

This may be a bit OOC im sorry if it is.

Gentlemen in the streets and a freak in the sheets. can’t tell me otherwise.

I headcanon that Floyd stayed at Volcano rock for a few years before leaving to go back home and getting kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer. So he definitely has a crazy side to him.

He is a complete sweetie pie making sure you feel safe and comfortable before absolutely destorying you. Giving you flowers and coaxing you towards the bedroom throwing you on the bed before pouncing on you.

Floyd is the most experienced out of his brothers charming men and women while on his solo career. So he definitely knows a thing or two about how to make someone go crazy.

Floyd loves leaving marks and bites on you, wtaching you wake up in the morning sore in his shirt his marks decorating your shoulders, neck, collar bone and chest as you get up to have some breakfast.

He also loves his marks that you give him, he doesn’t wear a shirt so he’s often flaunting them around weither he wants to or not. He sometimes gets embarrassed if there is an excessive amount wearing a loose fitting shirt to hide them.

Floyd also practices safe sex but he doesn’t do it often as Clay but more than Bruce and JD. When you guys get intimate he forgets to grab one in the spur of the moment.

Desipite being a freak he loves to make sure you’re okay. Breathless as he asks you if you feel good or if he’s doing alright as he grinds his hips into you. Smiling innocently as you can barely create a thought in your head.

Floyd loves when you wrap your legs around hus waist as he thrusts into you. The adrenaline of cumming inside you without any protection really gets him going.

Loves when your on your back and he leans his body over you, his hand gripping onto the headboard as he pounds into you like a madman. [Sowwy this was for my pleasure]

Definitely a tease, he looks so innocent on the outside so no one notices that your blush isn’tfrom cute romatic whispering but actually what hes going to do to you when he gets you alone.

THATS ALL BROS 💙💜💚🩷

[downtilts]

posting a ranson drabble i had bouncing around in my head recently. randy kisses benson in the diner while benson's apologizing for shooting him 🫢

“Fuck, Randy. I’m sorry.”

Benson is so close Randy can see the tears in his eyes, threatening to leak out, how his brow is creased in fear and worry. The pain in his shoulder is strong but Benson’s proximity outweighs it. And his apologies are so desperate as he stares at the wound he made, unable to fix anything. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Fuck.”

Randy believes him, one hundred percent, that he’s sorry about the bullet, about everything. And Randy finds it easy to forgive him. A tear betrays Benson, falls out onto his cheek and slides down his face. Randy lifts his arm, his good arm, brings his hand to Benson’s face, and wipes it away, returning the favor. In that moment he loves Benson, who has gone completely still and is looking at him like he is irreplaceable. He wants to tell Benson he’s alright, but he’s not really, and he wants to be honest. But there’s nothing honest he could say right now that would reassure Benson. Instead, he lifts himself up just enough to kiss Benson’s mouth.

Benson shudders, drops the gun, and one of the waitstaff, quick-thinking, scampers across the floor on hands and knees to retrieve it. Benson doesn’t notice. He kisses Randy back, no thought behind it, pushes his tongue in and both his hands find the back of Randy’s neck, grabbing so rough, too rough and sharp pain runs through Randy’s shoulder but he manages not to shout. If he shouts he knows Benson will pull back. They’re kissing in the middle of the diner with everyone watching. Benson’s hands are shaking, and he kisses Randy like he’s drunk, delirious and messy, moving from his lips to mouth at his jawline, and then on to his neck. Randy sighs and his eyes flutter open to see Miss Beard staring at them, completely bewildered. There’s a question in her eyes, something like, is this part of your plan to save us? He has no idea what he’s doing.

“Benson,” he murmurs as Benson continues sucking on his neck. Benson makes a small desperate sound and his other hand finds the waist of Randy’s pants, ready to proceed. “Benson. I did it. I called– I called the cops.”

Benson freezes and his lips part with Randy’s neck but his face stays buried in the crook of it.

“I called the cops,” Randy says.

Then Benson pulls back enough to look at him, eyes big, breath heavy, still coming down from the kissing, too many conflicting emotions playing across his face to name. He lets go of Randy, who almost falls to the floor, and steps back, settling into heartbreak. His empty hands twitch, and he glances at them, dazed, realizing he lost the gun. He doesn’t bother looking for it, just stares at Randy, who’s collected himself.

“It was me,” Randy says. “It was me.”

Everyone stares at Benson. It’s not clear what will happen now. If Benson still had the gun, he would probably shoot himself, or Randy, or Randy and then himself. Or he’d wave it at the cops so they would do it for him. But he’s just standing there, unarmed, looking frazzled and betrayed, mouth red from kissing Randy, and Randy doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. 

“Benson,” Randy takes a step forward, unsure what he’s even going to ask him to do (to surrender, to kiss him again?). Benson looks so defeated. He takes a shaky breath and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, one of the waitstaff gets up and strikes him across the back of his head with the butt of his gun, not unlike what he did to Sheppard’s face. He crumples to the ground and Randy cries out and runs forward to fall to his knees.

“Benson,” he says again, takes Benson’s head and cradles it in his lap, getting blood on his pants.

Other things happen after that. The cops come inside and get medical attention for Marsha. Miss Beard coaxes him away from Benson eventually, because even as he cries no and insists on riding in the ambulance with him, he’s still gushing blood from his bullet wound, and he ends up passing out and waking up in the hospital with his mother hovering over him.

He wants to see Benson immediately but they won’t let him. He insists the clothes he’s wearing are his own so they don’t want to take them as evidence.

“At least tell me whether he’s alive,” Randy begs the nurse when his mother is out of the room, and the nurse pats him on his good shoulder. 

“Alive and well,” she assures him, but the second part is doubtful.

When his mother comes back, she cries some more about how worried she was when she got the call, then stops, abruptly, staring at his neck. Randy’s blood runs hot; oh my god, he realizes, Benson left a mark.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

Could you do a romantic x reader oneshot on Captain Man ❤️ From- Henry Danger (Where a beautiful Fashion Designer in training (from: "Storybrooke, Maine") has a encounter with Captain Man at The John Hancock Center in Swellview where she accidentally gets trapped in a elevator with him, where Captain Man quickly starts to fall in love with her and flirts with her a bit during their time being trapped until Kid Danger comes and saves them, the reader secretly starts to find Captain Man very attractive as they shared a long passionate kiss until later on they were caught making out by Kid Danger after he and Schwoz got the elevator working)

(The reader is a vegetarian, she loves reading, designing clothes, she's attracted to masked men, she loves kickboxing and blue orchids, her favorite color is blue, she's claustrophobic, In Storybrooke her old job was working as a waitress at Granny's Diner, she loves animals)

(The reader doesn't who Ray Manchester and doesn't know that he's captain man, she was hoping to find a job in Swellview)

Stuck || Ray Manchester/Captain Man x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • ray manchester masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: oneshot where you, an aspiring-fashion-designer, get trapped in an elevator with captain man on your way to a job interview

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none it’s literally just flirting

a/n: ok I actually love this idea so so much and I hope I did it justice for you. this request was so detailed so thank you babes <3 enjoy!! 💌🎀💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You clutched your portfolio tighter as you stepped off of the bus and into the warm, spring air. You still hadn’t gotten used to the weather here in Swellview. Compared to your hometown of Storybrooke and the cold Maine temperatures this was practically a sauna. 

     Pulling at your skirt, you turned your gaze upwards toward the towering building in front of you. John Hancock Center, read the giant block letters on the building’s front, Quality Fashion Since 1909.  

     You breathed in a sigh. This was your chance. And you weren’t going to become a famous fashion designer by standing outside on the sidewalk for hours. Walking into the establishment, you tried to give yourself a quick pep talk 

     Ok, you told yourself, this is what I’m here for. I will get this job. I’m going to walk in there and show them my designs and what’s the worst that could happen? I don’t get the job, have to move back to Maine, tell my parents they were right all along, and go back to waiting tables at Granny’s Diner…

     Ok, so the pep talk wasn’t working. You looked down again at the paper in your hand. Floor 14, Suite B: 11:30am. You still had plenty of time—you were almost an hour early—but you just wanted to make sure you didn’t blow this. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself at your over-preparedness. You figured you could probably just sit in the lobby while you waited and go over your designs and play out the interview in your head. 

    Seeing no seats available in the packed building filled with well-dressed employees, you decided to try your luck upstairs—there had to be a waiting area or at least a chair on the 14th floor, right? 

    Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you headed towards the elevator. Seeing a mirror, you studied yourself in it for a moment.

    I look like a fashion designer, don’t I? You asked yourself. You looked from your (y/e/c) eyes and your (y/h/c) hair to the outfit you had spent hours last night stying in various shades of your favorite blues and realized you did. You’d worked like heck to get here and whatever happened in this interview wouldn’t change that. 

    Feeling significantly more calm than you had mere minutes ago, you stepped on to the elevator. You were just beginning to open the bag clutched beneath your arm when you paused as you realized alarms were going off in what sounded like the distance. It was hard to tell from the muffled elevator. Suddenly the elevator stopped—on the 6th floor according to the lit-up buttons near the doors. 

    Without warning the doors burst open, shoved apart with inhuman strength, and someone stepped into the small elevator. 

    Captain Man. 

     You recognized him instantly. Who wouldn’t? Apart from his infamous red-and-blue superhero suit, it also had something to do with the fact that he was one of the biggest celebrities in Swellview, rivaled only by his sidekick Kid Danger. Something you had to get used to when you moved here not even 4 months ago. 

    Personally you didn’t quite understand the idolization people had for them. I mean sure, they’d saved a lot of people over the years, or so you’d heard. But other cities survived without superheroes, didn’t they? 

    However, as Captain Man stepped into the elevator, you couldn’t argue that the man was an imposing figure—and attractive. 

     “You go around the back, Kid. I’m getting on the elevator” he shouted into his wristwatch.

     “Why can’t I take the elevator and you climb 18 flights of stairs?” you heard what must have been Kid Danger’s reply over the communication device. 

     “Just do it!” the superhero argued back.

      He stepped all the way into the elevator, not seeming to notice that another person was in it, and began pushing the button for the top floor repeatedly.

     You took a step backwards. 

    “I don’t think that’s going to make it go any faster,” you commented.

    “Look lady, I think I know what I’m d—” he turned around finally looking at you and stopped abruptly. “Hello there, I’m Captain Man, maybe you’ve heard of me?” He smirked as he sauntered over to you, “And you are?”

     “(Y/n)”

     “Well (Y/n), what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing at the John Hancock Center?”

     You couldn’t help but smile at the superhero. You’d heard he was a flirt. Guess the rumors were true. “I’m here for a job interview. I’m a fashion designer. Or, I will be, if this interview goes well.”

      “No way! I’m somewhat of a fashion designer myself. I did design this,” he gestured to his Captain Man suit with pride. You chuckled as he began posing, showing different elements of his superhero suit. 

     “Stay focused, man!” Kid Danger’s voice startled you again. 

     “Don’t you have stairs to climb?” Captain Man yelled into his watch as he scowled and headed back towards the front of the elevator. 

     “What exactly is going on?” You asked as you tried to understand what was happening. 

     Captain Man turned to look at you. “Just your average burglary, nothing I can’t handle, beautiful.” He winked at you, and you found yourself blushing. You shook it off. 

     “And you’re pushing the button to every floor, because? I do have a job interview to get to.”

     He paused as if to consider this when a rumbling sound and the building shaking as if victim to an earthquake interrupted his train of thought. You clutched your portfolio tighter. 

     “What was that?”

     “I’m sure it was nothing,” he waved his hand in the air “Don’t worry, I have everything under contr—”

     The place shook harder and this time even Captain Man himself seemed vaguely worried. 

     “Kid? Situation?”  He asked his watch.

     “I think Minyak is on the roof and he’s somehow weakening the structure of the building,” came his reply, “I’m going to—” His voice was cut off by a loud bang and then nothing happened.

     Silence filled the elevator. 

     “Kid? KID?” When no response came, Captain Man rushed to push the button for the top floor again.

     “Dr. Minyak?! You said this was a ‘simple burglary’!” You shouted over the noise of—whatever was going on up on the roof—as you watched the lights on the buttons move along the wall while the elevator went up and up. From what you had heard, Dr. Minyak was one of Swellview’s most notorious criminals. You sighed and glanced at your watch. Luckily you were early to your interview.

     “It was a simple burglary! Dr. Minyak came here to steal all the designs for the Swellview Fashion Show this weekend so he could win once and for all—or something like that.” He shrugged.

     You tilted your head to the side, “Minyak? Fashion show?”

     “I don’t know, something about a childhood dream and a lost career in fashion…” He rolled his eyes. “But that doesn’t explain why he’s on the roof and why—”

     A loud bang filled your ears followed by a sound like metal scraping metal and the elevator stopped moving abruptly. Captain Man tried opening the doors, but they wouldn’t budge. 

     “Aw sweet beans and rice! Minyak jammed the elevator!” Captain man slammed his fist into the elevator wall. “I should’ve just taken the stairs!”

     You gulped

     “Stuck?”

     You had never exactly been a fan of elevators, I mean sure they saved you having to walk multiple flights of stairs. But you didn’t exactly love the idea of being in a small metal box suspended between floors of a tall building. And being extremely claustrophobic didn’t exactly help. 

     The superhero began pushing the emergency call button over and over until with a snap! it popped off. 

     “Oops,” he muttered sheepishly. “Great, now I’ll have to call Schwoz, if I can get a signal, and meanwhile Minyak is getting away again and Kid Danger could be in trouble—”

     He kept talking but you weren’t paying attention. 

     Stuck. Trapped. 

     You sucked in a long, deep breath. The air in the elevator suddenly seemed warmer and you pulled at the collar of your shirt. Was the elevator getting smaller or was it just you?

     “Alright Schwoz, just get here as soon as you can.” Captain Man hung up the phone and turned to you, “Help is on the way, so we should be outta here in about—(Y/n)?”

     He took in your panicked expression and your arms clutching the railing as your knuckles turned white, your back now firmly pressed to the wall. 

     “(Y/n), are you ok?” 

     “Oh I’m great. No, other than being suspended who-knows-how-many feet in the air with no escape, I’m doing just fine,” you snapped.

     “Hey, it’s ok, I have someone coming who’s going to get us out of here. Shouldn’t be more than,” he hesitated, “an hour?”

     “An hour?” You were definitely going to be late to this job interview.

     “Look, I’m doing the best I can, alright? And for now, how are you with small spaces?”

     “We don’t exactly get along,” you said, “We are going to get out of here, aren’t we?”

     “Trust me,” he put a hand on your arm gently, “nothing bad’s going to happen to you.” As if you punctuate this remark, the elevator shook, sending chills down your spine.

     “Do you mind!” Captain Man yelled up at the roof of the elevator. “Anyways, don’t worry, I promise we’ll be rescued in plenty of time for you to get to your interview.”

     You certainly hoped so. You couldn’t miss this opportunity. Captain man leaned on the wall across from you and sighed. He was silent for a moment, and then—

     “So, fashion designer, huh? I mean, what’s your story? How’d you decide that’s what you wanted to do?” He said 

     “What’s my story?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Well I figure if we’re going to be trapped in here, might as well get to know each other,” he shrugged, “And it’ll take your mind off the whole walls-closing-in thing.”

     You rolled your eyes at him but you couldn’t help but smile. 

     “Alright,” you started, taking a deep breath. It couldn’t hurt to pass the time talking to the superhero in front of you. “Well, I’ve always wanted to design fashion, ever since I was a little girl. I grew up in Storybrooke, Maine and, well, there weren’t exactly a lot of opportunities presenting themselves in the fashion industry, so I came to Swellview.”

     “Of course, my parents don’t exactly approve of me throwing away my schooling and ‘stable career’ to take a chance at fashion. But they gave me 6 months to come out here and pursue my dream before I’m cut off completely. Or I’ll have to go back to Maine, back to college, and beg my boss at Granny’s Diner to let me back on, which won’t exactly be easy given the way I left, proclaiming my success before it even happened.”

     “I’ve been to exactly 9 interviews, so,” you gestured around you, “here I am. Tenth times the charm!”

     You instinctively clutched your portfolio closer as you thought back to the day you left your hometown and decided to take a risk for a future you wanted to have. You remembered the nervous feeling mixed with excitement and adrenaline as you got on the plane headed for Swellview. You didn’t regret it, not in the slightest. It only made you remember how important this interview was, a determined look setting on your face.

     Captain Man watched you intently as you told him your life story. You couldn’t believe how easy it was to just tell him everything. Everything that had been worrying you for the past few months. The knot in your chest began to loosen. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, leaving the elevator silent save for the distant sirens you assumed had something to do with Dr. Minyak.

   You crossed your arms, “Well, what about you? Why’d you decide you wanted the superhero gig? I assume you weren’t born in a mask and spandex.”

    He chuckled, “Well, first of all there’s the fact I get stuck in elevators with gorgeous women during my job…”

     You smiled and tried to ignore the blush once again heating your cheeks. 

     “And also, I get to save people. I mean, Kid Danger and I have kept this city safe from a lot of dangerous people. I guess I just really care about the citizens of Swellview and protecting them. Honestly, I don’t know what all of you would do without me,” he smiled haughtily, laughter in his eyes. 

     You rolled your eyes, smiling back at him, “Oh I don’t know, I think we’d be all right.”

     “Not a fan of superheroes?” He feigned offense.

     “I just think people can handle themselves, without superheroes saving them all the time,” you answered truthfully.

     “Maybe you just haven’t been saved by the right superhero,” he challenged with a smirk. 

     “You call this saving me?”’ You asked playfully.

    “In due time,” he said, “Right now, I’m entertaining you aren’t I? Bet you aren’t thinking about being trapped in a tiny elevator anymore.”

     “I wasn’t.” 

     You couldn’t deny it though, you were enjoying his company. You had forgotten about your current situation. Or if not forgotten, at least became more calm. You took a deep breath and shifted your designs to the other side of your body. Captain Man followed the movement with his eyes. 

     “Hey, what’s in the bag?” He asked, indicating the pack containing all of your designs. 

     You instinctively put your arm over it, “Oh, this? iIt’s nothing, just some of my designs,” you shrugged. 

     “Mind if I take a look?” He reached out an arm and reluctantly you handed it over to him. What did you have to lose? 

     Captain Man took the bag from you and slid to the ground to examine your sketches and drawings. You sat down with him chewing your thumbnail nervously. You’d never really shown anyone your ideas before, other than possible employers and that hadn’t exactly worked out too well. 

    You glanced up at Captain Man self-consciously. He had now taken out multiple of your designs and was flipping through them, his eyebrows raised. You chastised yourself for being this anxious to hear his opinion. Your confidence didn’t depend on what he thought of your designs…did it?

     “Wow, (Y/n), these are…” He looked up at you, awe on his face, “If these people don’t give you a job they’re out of their minds!” 

    You gave him an embarrassed smile, your face warm. It meant a lot to you to hear him—anyone—say that. He handed you your deigns back, his gloved hand brushing yours as he did so. 

     You looked up at him and he met your eyes, but you couldn’t quite read his expression as his eyes bore into yours. 

    Bang! Bang! Bang! 

    You were both startled by a pounding on the elevator door. Your heart in your chest, you sprung up and Captain Man man jumped in front of you, his arm across your body as he shielded you from whatever was on the other side of the door. 

     “Hello?” Captain Man called

     “Yes?” The voice called back

     Captain Man’s expression broke into relief as he shook his head smiling, “Schwoz!” He lifted the arm that had been across your body and rested his hand on his hip. 

     So this must be the man who the superhero was calling before! You almost laughed; you were saved! Even as you rejoiced, you couldn’t help but feel…not disappointed, but you weren’t quite as relieved as you thought you’d be. You’d been enjoying your time with Captain Man.

     “So can you get us out of here?” He asked. 

     “Hmm…hopefully. The system’s really jammed,” Schwoz said, “I’m going to need to go and get some equipment. Is anyone in there with you?”

     Captain Man looked over at you. “Just one smokin’ hot fashion designer,” he winked and you crossed your arms teasingly. 

     “Ooh can I see?” Came Schwoz’s reply.

     “Kinda trapped in here, remember?” Captain Man rolled his eyes.

    “Oh, right,” he said sheepishly with a nervous chuckle, “well, I’m going to go now. I’ll be right back.”

   “Schwoz no, don’t leave!” Captain Man banged on the door. No reply came back. “Dang it Schwoz!” 

     You sighed. So close, you thought. You only hoped the strange man was, in fact, coming right back. You glanced at your watch. You still had almost half-an-hour before you’d be officially late to your interview. There was still time. However, you found yourself caring less and less about your appointment. You scolded yourself for thinking it, but you were almost glad to have a little more time with Captain Man before you’d go your separate ways. You couldn’t deny you enjoyed his company—and even his flirting.

    You glanced at him and found him watching you intently. He stepped towards you.

     “So, we’re almost out of here,” you said to break the silence. 

     He nodded. “You say that like it’s a good thing,” he said playfully. 

     “I bet you say that to all the girls you’re trapped with,” you shot back.  

     Captain Man laughed, “Not all of them, just the ones I really like.” 

     He took another step towards you.

     “You get trapped in elevators with a lot of women, do you?” 

     “Just the one,” he admitted, “but I’m thinking about doing it more often.”

     You were close to him now. Really close. You studied his features; the teasing smile on his face, the way his mask fit around his cheekbones, his eyes—they really were a beautiful blue, you thought—and finally his lips.

     “Why?” You breathed.

     “So I can do this.” He leaned towards you and suddenly his lips were on yours. Captain Man was kissing you. 

     And you were kissing him back. One of his hands went to your hair, the other pressed firmly against your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, his chest pressed against you. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn't believe how little you cared about your interview. And then you couldn't think of anything else but the man in front of you. 

     Vaguely you registered hearing a loud noise, but you ignored it. Neither of you noticed as the elevator doors were pushed open and two figures rushed in.

     “Captain man you’re ok, I—My eyes, oh, my eyes are burning!” A voice exclaimed.

      “Woah, I see what you mean, she is hot,” another voice said

     Upon hearing the voices, you broke apart quickly. A short man with a tool belt and a teenager who could only be Kid Danger, his clothes covered in scorch marks and dust, stood in front of you. The latter was running his hands over his face, pretending to clean his eyes. 

     You glanced at them sheepishly. Captain Man ran a hand through his hair.

     “Go on,” said the man who must have been Schwoz with a mischievous grin, “pretend we’re not even here.”

     “Well, guess we didn’t need to get the elevator running, looks like you were having a great time!” Kid Danger scowled at Captain Man but you could tell he was relieved see his friend safe. 

     Captain Man turned towards his sidekick and Schwoz. “Anyways,” he said, “I’m glad you’re ok, Kid. And thanks to both of you for getting us out of here.”

     “It was easy work really,” Schwoz joked.

     A short silence filled the room. As if remembering you were there, the superhero quickly introduced you. “Oh guys, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is my assistant Schwoz—”

     “Assistant?”

     “—my coworker Schwoz, and you probably know my sidekick, Kid Danger.”

     You guys greeted each other awkwardly until Kid Danger checked his watch and said, “Alright, we better get out of here. Minyak’s still on the run and he’s not going to capture himself. We wouldn’t really be superheroes if we just let him go.” 

     Captain Man turned to you. “Speaking of which, you still feel the same way about superheroes?” He smirked

     “I might be revising my opinion,” you smiled

      “Well, good luck with your interview (Y/n). And, hey, if you’re ever need some more design inspiration, you know, for when you’re world famous, I hear Junk N’ Stuff might be a good place to look,” he winked at you and you were still contemplating what exactly he meant by that when he leaned down and kissed you gently.

     “Bye (Y/n).”

     And with that the superhero and his friends were gone, rushing down the hallway to look for a super villain and bring justice to this city. You smiled to yourself scarcely believing the events of the day.

     “Bye Captain Man.”

     You stepped off the elevator and onto the floor, checking your watch and slinging your bag over your shoulder as you started to head towards your interview. Except this time, you thought to yourself, you’d take the stairs. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed y’all!! i had so much fun writing this and I hope someone else has fun with it. i literally love ray and so i’m over the moon that he’s got a lil internet community 🤭 thank you to the anon who requested this <3

[its-time-to-write]

I AM RUSHING TO GET THIS IN!!!

Friends to lovers maybe with a disabled reader?? Maybe she's someone he knew from back home who he runs into at a diner she's working at now. Maybe she feels like he abandoned her and her life fell apart when he moved away?

ANyway love you lots!!!

warning: there’s a lot of parentheses (it’s a choice) and a lot of swearing (I do what I want)

reader’s dialogue/feelings are based off my own experiences so if u read this and are like ??? don’t worry about it. i’m just projecting. the chronic illness is unspecified.

LOVE U BABE

you’ll probably date her

It’s hard enough growing up in a council estate in a shit part of Manchester (although you’d staunchly defend there’s no such thing as a shit part of Manchester) but it’s harder with fucking chronic illness. It manifests is clumsiness (joint pain), fidgeting (widespread pain), and bruising (skin problems).

Not to mention the fucking tiredness.

School is complete shit all the time, and life is complete shit all the time too. 

Okay fine, not all the time, but a lot of the time.

There are bright spots in between flare ups, bright spots that consist of learning how to bake with Simon (Jamie’s stepdad) and petting Roy (Jamie’s cat) and watching horribly cheesy movies with Georgie (Jamie’s mum).

Oh, and Jamie. 

You’ve known Jamie since birth, probably, when your mum brought you home and Jamie sat down on the saggy couch, aged two, and asked, “When does it open its eyes?”

He took it upon himself to look after you, magnanimous in a way he would not have been if you were actually related to him (thank god). When he starts to get tired of you, he can go back home to his own room and his own mum and hug her tight without having to share her with anyone else.

When you’re three and he’s five, you get a diagnosis. Jamie says, “That’s shit,” when your mum tells him you can’t play, and you’re told that you echo him with your first swear. 

“That’s shit,” comes your tiny voice from the sofa, face down and covered in bags of frozen peas.

Your mum is too surprised by the first words you’ve said all day, that she a) doesn’t scold you and b) doesn’t catch Jamie as he slips by her into the house. He sits on the floor and starts to tell you about primary school and helps your mum when it’s time to put the peas back in the slightly-broken freezer.

It goes like that for years. 

When you’re feeling well, you kick a football around with Jamie. When you’re feeling poorly, he climbs the steps to your room and tells you things, anything at all to distract you from the pain ripping through your body.

It’s nice. It makes you feel, like, someone cares, almost? Or someone understands? Or maybe the world isn’t carrying on without you, that a piece of it does stop when you do, and maybe you aren’t entirely alone.

You first realize you like Jamie (like-like) when you’re twelve and it feels like ice-cold water has been poured on your head, but not exactly in an unwelcoming way.

A shock, sure, but a soothing one.

You don’t tell him, but you think he probably knows. He’s not an idiot, he’s had girls swooning all over him since he was eight. 

(And your mum knows, and she and Georgie talk, and Georgie tells Jamie to be extra nice to you and maybe a little bit careful not to be mean about it.)

He carefully slips on your small bed when you’re fifteen and he’s sixteen (almost seventeen, but it’s the one time of the year when you’re only a year apart) and balances on his side so he can look at you.

“You’ll be alright?” he asks, and you don’t have to ask what he’s talking about.

He’s going to play for Manchester (City, not United, and not the Premier League Team), and it’s all you’ve been able to think about.

You don’t say anything, so he gingerly pats your head. It messes up your hair, but it also feels like tiny electric sparks are shooting through your body (not the pain kind).

He lays there for a long time, whispering about secondary school and football and making enough money to buy houses for everyone he’s ever loved, you included.

(He promises he’ll call all the time.)

—

He does call, until he doesn’t.

Some days are good, some days are bad, and now the bad days feel like they’re your fault.

“You’re overdoing it,” your boss says, “You need to slow down or you’ll be out sick tomorrow.”

You bite back the words I’m doing my fucking best, and just nod. Fuck him, and fuck this. You can work just the same as everyone else, pain be damned. There are fucking bills to pay and yeah, this shit hurts, but what the fuck are you supposed to do. Benefits aren’t enough at the moment, and it’s been a solid two years since you’ve given up on waiting for a knight in shining armor (even if that knight is in the Premier League now, just like he always swore he’d be).

Your boss is fucking right the fucker, but you push through on Friday (it’s fucking shit) and crash on Saturday (it’s even more fucking shit).

Your mum places bags of frozen fruit on your joints, rearranging the pillows on the floor. You’ve long since outgrown the couch, instead needing more space. Your dad moved the coffee table, saying, “It’s on its last legs anyway,” and the space you called a living room now became a treatment room of sorts.

Georgie and Simon come over all the time for family dinner (potluck-style) and they are comfortable enough step over you or sit down on the floor to talk.

It sounds worse than it is, but when they’re in the flat it feels better, all warm and glowy, like things are right.

Nights are the worst, with the moving around trying to get comfortable, so you’re awake bright and early on Sunday morning. Early enough to sit on a bench in front of the estates, bundled up in your duvet and puffing cold air out into the sky.

You hear footsteps splashing down the tunnel, someone on their way home after a long night. Or maybe it’s one of the many kids who like to sneak out to play footie in hopes that they’ll be the next Jamie Tartt.

He’s not that great, you want to tell them, except you don’t even believe it yourself. He is that great, he’ll always be that great, and you should have fucking known that he was going to fuck off and fuck a gorgeous, carefree model and not you. 

(Not that you want to fuck him. Well, you do, but you also want to, like, hold his hand.)

It was always going to end up this way, you should have known not to actually have real feelings for him, you should have left it at a childhood crush and not let yourself believe something could actually happen.

The footsteps pass you by, and it’s a man in a baseball hat and an awful silk-print tracksuit carrying a Gucci travel bag.

He’s out of place here, and you wonder if he’s lost. But no, he strides up to Georgie and Simon’s door like he owns the place, pulls out a key, and walks right in. It’s only after the door swings shut behind him that you realize it’s Jamie.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, clouds accompanying the words.

(You won’t admit it, but the surprise has rebooted your system a little bit, aching limbs forgotten for a moment.)

—

“This is shit,” you say as you lean on your fucking cane of all things. “It’s one thing if it’s Simon and Georgie, it’s another fucking thing if it’s Jamie fucking Tartt.”

“That’s a lot of fucking fucks,” your father says sagely, ignoring the glare you send his way and saying ow as your mum swats the back of his head.

“It’s only two fucks and one shit,” you tell him. “And I’m not going.”

“Then I’ll tell them to come over here,” your mum says placidly. 

Absolutely not. Also-fucking-lutely not.

“I am going to my room,” you say with dignity, turning to go back up the stairs.

Your dad waves, the prick. “Have fun,” he says helpfully. You flip him off without looking, and you know for a fact he’s doing it back. You know he’ll be up in an hour with a plate of dinner and sneak you early desert.

There is no fucking way you’re seeing Jamie after two years like this.

The cane is a relatively new development and sure, it’s helpful with walking sometimes, but a cane? The fuck were the doctors thinking when they suggested this? You’re barely twenty, not a damn convalescent. 

By the time you make it to your room, the doorbell’s ringing and voices are filling the flat. You reach for your bottle of pills and carefully tap the right amount into your hand (even though you know there is no drug on earth to calm down your traitor heart).

You lay down flat on your back with no immediate plans to move. You find your playlist and slip an earbud in, letting the music take you somewhere else. Somewhere where you don’t hurt for no reason, where you can focus like you’re supposed to, where you aren’t so damn tired all the time.

There’s a tap on your door.

“Come in,” you call to your dad, except the door opens and it’s Jamie, no longer in his stupid outfit from earlier, but in a nice jumper that you think might be Simon’s.

He smiles like he didn’t abandon you and sits down on the floor. You hand him the other earbud (it’s better than talking) and let Stevie Nicks croon in your ear.

“How’ve you been?” he asks (the prick) and you have half a mind to ignore him. 

“It’s been two years,” you remind him. “Try again.”

Jamie looks stricken. “Right, yeah, I know, it’s just- I’ve been busy.”

“Yup,” you reply. “Me too.”

(The cane is leaning on the wall by the door, and you need Jamie to not notice it.)

Jamie points to the cane. “That’s new.”

“Yep,” you say because it’s not the same as yup. It has a different vowel. It’s a different word, you’re having a civil conversation, your brain is making sentences just fine.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He sounds like he means it, which is worse. “I went through some shit, you know? It don’t excuse it, but… got a new gaffer, Keeley dumped me, then I got sent back to City right when I were getting better. It’s been shit. I’ve been shit,” he corrects.

Your arm’s falling asleep so you shift, trying to stifle a groan.

Jamie’s up in a moment, all concern. “You alright?”

“Clearly,” you gasp out as savagely as possible. “Fuck off, alright? I don’t need your pity, not now, so go find some other charity case.”

Fucking flare-ups. Fucking Jamie. Fucking chronic illness and its fucking lack of a cure.

Jamie looks like he’s been slapped. To be fair, you would if you could get in the right position.

“You’re not charity,” he says, and unfortunately (and again) he sounds like he fucking means it.

“Okay,” you say. “That’s fucking mint. Thanks for staying such a good friend all these years, it’s been real fucking fun. I’ve got to lie here in discomfort, so I imagine you’ll be leaving now. Goodbye.”

Jamie stares at you a moment, then leaves.

—

It’s a good day. It’s a good day and it’s raining and you don’t even care because it’s a good day. Nothing can ruin it (this isn’t a premonition) not even stupid Jamie showing up out of nowhere.

(It’s a little bit of a premonition.)

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says when he turns up in his mum’s kitchen, an hour before he’s supposed to be home. You’re supposed to be long gone by now, but you and Simon have cheese pinwheels in the oven that aren’t done for another twenty minutes, so now you’re stuck here until then.

“Fucking mint,” you say, just like the night before. Simon freezes but Georgie just rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll be in the other room, loves,” she says. “Jamie, don’t be a fucking idiot.”

You tell him, “I’m having a good day, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fucking ruin it.”

“You’re not a charity case,” he says, and you think maybe he is broken, but like a record is broken, not like a teacup.

Jamie says, “I weren’t lying about going through shit,” and you snap (like a rubber band, not a bone).

“Big fucking deal, Jamie, you’ve been going through shit since you were six years old. I’ve been going through shit too, in case you didn’t fucking notice. It’s not an excuse to be a shitty person or a shitty friend,” you burst out.

“I didn’t say it as an excuse, it’s just a fucking reason,” Jamie shouts back. “Jesus Christ, you’re not the only person with fucking problems! You’re allowed to be mad shitty sometimes, I didn’t ever complain, so why’s it fucking different for me?”

You open your mouth to tell him why it’s fucking different, except you don’t actually have a reason. How many times did you sit with him as he iced his knee, or his face, or his arm while you iced your back, or your chest, or your legs?

Pain is pain, your fucking government-issued therapist had said. And shit if she isn’t right.

“You abandoned me,” you reply, voice small. “You left me for Keeley and I wouldn’t have minded, I really wouldn’t have. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Jamie rubs his face with a sigh. “Didn’t know how to talk to you, after. I knew you liked me since we were kids and I liked you too, so it felt fucking… weird. Dunno. But, I was with her because it was what I was supposed to do and she was mad fit and fucking funny. I’ve had a crush on her for fucking… ages.”

“Right,” you say, feeling one millimeter tall, “I get that.”

Jamie shakes his head and says, “Nah, you don’t.” (The fuck does he mean? He can’t read your mind).

“You don’t get it,” he continues. “Had a crush on her, didn’t I? Not the same as you. You were proper in love with me, and I…” he trails off.

“He was proper in love with you too,” comes Georgie’s voice.

Jamie turns bright red and you do too, and it’s like you’re kids again and he’s in your bed and you’re trying not to think about how close his lips are to yours.

“That’s… well, that’s…” You try and fail to come up with the right words.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, still blushing. “Yeah, suppose I was. Couldn’t do anything about it, then. Could do something about it now. If you’ve forgiven me.” He says it casually, like he won’t mind if you tell him to go away out of his own mum’s house and never return, when in reality he’ll burn up and die if you do.

“I will. I do,” you say. “I’m sorry too, I am. I can be a prick sometimes.”

Jamie shrugs, but he’s smiling a little. “I’m a prick all the time, love. Fucking… fucked childhood or some shit.”

“Some shit,” you echo. “So, proper in love with me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Proper. Wrote my first name with your last on every bit of paper I could get me hands on, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off,” you say with a grin.

“It’s true,” Simon shouts from the sofa. “Found some bits when I was cleaning one day.”

Wait. Simon didn’t move in until Jamie was a teenager. That means… 

“Oh my god, were you fifteen when you were writing that? You weren’t even a kid anymore! What the fuck Jamie, you had it bad!” you tease.

“Fuck off, it was just a stupid joke,” he says defensively.

“Uh huh, sounds like,” you say as you go to wrap your arms around him. “You liked me.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your head. He’s never going to fucking live this down.

[morwap]

𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍?

micheal afton x fem!reader

sfw wishing it was halloween so this could be halloween themed but oh well,

nav • m.a m.list • series master list

swearing, a kiss, in the same timeline as my other fic, evan and elizabeth are very much alive, readers in a band, micheal has a nose piercing, micheal afton with a mullet, b/n = brothers name, sneaking into the pizzeria. drinking, stealing, playboy magazine, random names

───────✧ 𓆩♡𓆪 ✧───────

Michaels's fingers drummed on the steering wheel, the music flowing from the speakers quietly but loud enough that he could enjoy it. the lights from the convenience store lit up his facial features as he waited on his friends. the summer heat was giving him a reminder of how hot it would be in his father's pizzaria, just the thought or mention of it made him groan and this constant reminder was not helping him in the slightest.

Michaels's eyes drifted around his truck, locking his eyes on the cd of your own music you had given him when you both were walking home from the two nice ladies' diner. lips turning up slowly into a soft smile, tempted to put it and listen but knowing his friends would be back any minute and he washed the thought out of his head, he could listen after dropping them off later.

laugher broke out into the summer air causing Michael to look up, watching his friends walk out with smiles. sighed as he could already pinpoint almost everything they had stolen—honestly shocked that no one called them out for it because they were awful at hiding it, you could practically see a bottle of alcohol in the front of Steven’s pants.

“Mikey I got your favorite” Jeremy snickered as he got into the small back seat, Steven got in after with the same smirk that Jeremy had. Michael shook his head but smiled as he started to pull out. Michael had gotten in trouble last time for coming home drunk by his mom, he could barely remember anything from that except the “you’re 18 and live under my roof and you will not be coming home drunk” lecture and he really didn't want to hear it again.

“Oh! I got you this, thought it looked like your girl” steven said, smacking the gum in his mouth as he pulled the dirty magazine from where he tucked it in the waistband of his pants and handed it to Michael.

“Shut the fuck up, she’s not my girl” Michael scoffed, glancing at the magazine, yes it did look like you but it was not you. steven mumbled a jokey “whatever” while Jeremy threw his hands up with a shrug when michael looked back at him. Michael tossed the magazine to the floor on the passenger side, but it took every ounce of self-control he had to not keep glancing at it.

“Mikey- man- we should drink at Freddy's,” Steven said, he looked back at Jeremy and the boy nodded, Michael sighed and let his head roll back onto the headrest.

“You know my dad would kill me if he found out,” Michael said, stopping at a red light.

“Cmon mike, we’re going away for college after this summer, let’s have fun and I know there's no alarm, just mega fuckin’ locks,” Steven said, taking the alcohol out of his pants and passing them back to Jeremy.

“Mira’s at the mall with y/n and kim, let’s invite them” Jeremy suggested, sitting the alcohol in the seat next to him carefully. Michael thought it over in his head, it wasn’t a bad idea but if William found out he would probably rip the piercing right out of his nose, if it didn’t he would have a great time and he knew of a way to get in without a key but this could be the last time to do this till his dad hired the security guard that he was talking about at dinner.

“Okay, okay” Michael gave in, putting his blinker on.

“maybe Kim will have weed” steven mentioned, lifting his brows.

“Probably not, her mom caught her with it right after graduation. I’ve heard her moms checking everything when she gets home and saying she won’t stop till she moves out” Jeremy sighed.

-

mira was digging through her bag as you sat on the concrete. a bubble gum sucker in your mouth, kim sat next to you and counted the money that was in her wallet.

“wow kim you really cut down on your shopping addiction” you joked and nudged her arm. kim laughed softly.

“saving up to move out” kim said, zipping up her wallet and tossing it into her small bag.

“no college?” you asked, tossing the lollipop stick onto the ground.

“don’t think it’s for me if I'm being honest, I like it here and the only college I would want to go to is out of state,” she confessed. you nodded as if you understood, but you didn’t, you wanted out of this shitty small town in the most shitty state. you wanted to get far far away and sometimes you hoped some magical person would come sweep you off your feet and save you.

“you look at any apartments?” you asked, you looked behind you at mira and she was still looking for something then you looked at kim.

“yeah, a few, there's this really cute one i looked at but it's a bit pricey” she answered with a shrug.

it was getting dark, you all came to the mall after the rush hour, not wanting to wait in lines and since it was summer everyone was there, it was the only thing to do in a town in the middle of nowhere and this was the only thing for everyone to enjoy.

music blared and you could see the signature red truck coming your way. Michael Afton and his friends, you knew Ben wasn’t with them since he was at your grandma's house three hours away helping your other aunt to move in and take care of her.

mira walked over to you and kim after finally finding her keys and wallet, she laughed as they pulled up.

it was weird how you all were connected, you all gravitated towards each other without even knowing people you all were close to had some type of connection with the other, until you all finally made the connections, jeremy was dating mira’s step brother and kim was in a relationship with michaels cousin macy while ben was on and off with steven’s sister.

michael rolled down his window and jeremy popped his head out from between the seats.

mira rolled her eyes playfully. “knew I shouldn't have told you where we were going” she laughed.

“what’s wrong with wanting to see my best friends in the world?” Jeremy acted offended. “we’re here to give you something fun to do in the town of hurricane, i think you should be begging to come with us” he added.

you laughed and looked up at mira.

“why not” you said, getting up of the concrete then helping kim up.

“meet us at freddys” steven yelled as michael started to roll his window up, mira shouted an okay before hitting the unlock button on her keys.

“that freaky animatronic place?” kim asked as you three started walking to miras car.

“maybe it will be spooky” you said, moving your fingers and making ghost sounds before getting into the car. kim laughed and rolled her eyes.

driving there didn’t take too long, the mall was a bit away from it since they wanted to put it somewhere that made it accessible for most of the town. it was fully dark out and street lights were already on.

mira parked where michael's truck was, a little ways from the pizzeria.

“about time you guys showed up” steven said as you three walked to them.

“don’t they have cameras here” you asked, the breeze gave you a chill.

“My dad took the old ones out since they kept messing up and ordered new ones so we’re good with cameras,” Michael said, easing your nerves.

“okay then why’d we have to park in the mud, its caked on my shoes, '' Kim complained.

“because my dad drives by here on his way home from my uncles” michael huffed, and walked to a spot where he could pull off the vent cover with ease.

“wait we have to crawl through that?” mira asked in disgust, jeremy rolled his eyes. “there's probably bugs in there” she added.

“is a little bug gonna stop you from a date with mr.vodka and ms.beer?” jeremy asked in a baby voice, taking out the alcohol out from the bag that sat on the ground beside him.

thankfully michael had the rest of the cups he bought for jeremy's birthday party in march in his truck, and they had stolen some pineapple juice earlier.

“well i didn’t know alcohol was involved” Mira said and got closer to the vent.

“of course alcohol was involved, we said something fun to do, not that a miracle would happen” Michael said with a breathy laugh. mira laughed and mumbled something about him being right.

“alright, this leads to parts and service and nothing blocks this duct so we should be able to get in and out easily, plus it’s not very long and it’s pretty big so no one has to worry about claustrophobia” Michael informed everyone.

you all stood in silence and looked around at each other. Michael huffed, “okay i’ll go first” he said before getting on his knees and crawled into the vent.

Michael made it inside and turned on the light before yelling for the next person.

Michael yelled out again to bring the alcohol so the last person didn’t have to worry about it.

“y/n do it with me” Mira begged, her hands clasped together.

“okay” you said, dragging out the ‘ay’ as you grabbed the bag and slid it into the vent then go in after.

you pushed the bag as you crawled, mira knew you were safe to go in with since she knew jeremy or kim would joke and say something about a bug and freak her out.

Michael helped you up then took the alcohol, you helped mira and she brushed off her clothes.

“see no bugs” Michael said with a sly smile.

“yeah see mira, Michael was the only bug you had to worry about” you quipped and shrugged your shoulders.

Michael booed you as he left the room.

-

soon you all gathered in a private party room so no one would see the lights, you all took your pick on what alcohol you wanted.

“y/n come take a shot with me” steven said loudly.

you were two shots in and took three tiny sips of mira’s vodka and pineapple drink, you guys worked with what you had and you all were lucky Michael was able to get some sodas from the vending machine.

steven poured the shots and opened a coke for a chaser. He handed it to you and started to count. your face scrunched as you swallowed and he took a sip of the coke then handed it to you.

“that was foul” you groaned and shook your head. steven nodded then took another sip from the coke.

you migrated back to mira, she was on her first beer after he vodka drink, you noted that kim took minimal sips of the one beer she had carried around the entire time, you also decided to only sip on a beer and you were barely buzzed.

-

you didn’t know how you and Michael had gotten away from everyone else but you did.

“not drinking much today mikey?” you asked, leaning on a wall next to where he was standing. you knew Michael liked to drink, you even saw him shitfaced at stevens little get together in october. you remembered how you two bickered even when he was drunk.

“someones gotta drive you know” he said, you nodded and took another sip.

“kims also holding back drinking for the same reason then?” you asked, you looked at him, his blue eyes returned the gaze.

“yeah we talked about it while i got the soda” he confirmed.

you smiled before leaning off the wall and starting to walk down the hall.

Michael followed you, “where you going rockstar?” he asked and tilted his head.

you smiled, “giving myself a tour since the heir of this pizzeria won’t” you said and shrugged, tilting your head like his.

Michael laughed, you didn't know if it was because he knew his dad would rather die than let this whole franchise be ran by someone who is not him personally or that you wanted a tour of the place.

“if you wanted to see animatronics that can sing and play instruments better than you, you should’ve just said that” Michael responded, he crossed his arms and walked to you.

you rolled your eyes, “that’s exactly why i invited you to that diner, since you’re always around great entertainment i thought you would enjoy my mediocre singing” you laughed and took a drink.

“yes i just love terrible singing and when sage knocked over those couples drinks with their guitar,” Michael said and nodded his head. you giggled and nodded.

“that was pretty funny tho” you admitted and smacked his shoulder lightly.

you walked into the pirates cove section, Michael turned on the light since there was no window in there. you moved the curtain even though it said ‘out of order’.

Michael leaned against the wall, you inhaled sharply as the fox animatronic stared back at you, your eyes wide, the stance the animatronic was in was terrifying, it looked like it could run straight out of the curtain or like it was waiting for someone to open the curtain and be right in their face.

“holy shit” you mumbled and took a step back and bumped into Michael.

“that's foxy” he said, his hand coming to your shoulder.

“no, that is freaky as fuck” you responded, looking at it made you get goosebumps.

Michael moved from behind you and closed the curtain. “Here I'll show you the old ones” he said and grabbed your hand and turned the light off before leading you out of the room.

you could hear jeremy and mira laughing and singing while kim tried to get jeremy off of the table.

he took you to the storage room, the room was filled with labeled boxes, he guided you past the shelves.

“my dad doesn’t want to retire them but uncle henry said that they need to be more ahead of their times for business plus he doesn’t think they’re safe” he said.

you stood there looking at the old bunny suit, the old yellowing suit with a bowtie, the texture looked almost like real fur and you reached your hand out to touch it.

Michael reached his hand out to stop yours.

“i wouldn’t touch it” he said, bringing your hand back but not letting go. you looked at him, he was so close to you and you honestly don't think he’s ever been this close to you during the entire frenemies relationship you have. Michael’s cologne engulfed you and it was weirdly comforting.

you furrowed your brows and he could tell you were silently asking why.

“it has springlocks in it and its probably been ready to pop since its been a while, they made it so someone could wear it or it be an animatronic on its own, they had a problem with it and moisture. i don’t want you to get hurt” michael informed you and only one sentence stood out. his hand still holding yours.

your eyes went from his to his lips then back up, was it bad that you wanted to kiss him? did he look at you like this all the time?

maybe this was what mira and kim was talking about when they would bring up yours and michaels relationship, the soft bickering and stubbornness from both parties was what you two liked to put out, it made things fun and when asked about there being more the “no michael’s a fucking dick” and “she’s a bitch” was the common response, even when you both knew that was not the case.

you sat your drink on the shelf behind you and Michael got closer, you don’t know what made you so confident, you closed the small gap and connected your lips to his.

Michaels hand moved to your waist and pushed you back softly against the shelf, he didn’t push you away which was relieving and instead welcomed it with open arms like he had been waiting, and maybe he was waiting.

your hand moved to his neck and welcomed that the kiss was getting rougher.

you were about to move your fingers into his hair, the hair he took so much pride in and messed with all the time, the same stupid mullet you gave him so much shit for and said how bad it looked when in reality it just made him look good.

a loud sound, like something heavy running made you two jump away from each other but still keep your hands on each other.

“did you hear that?” you asked and tried to look around. your heart was beating fast.

“yeah” Michael breathed out, his heart beating just as fast as yours. He pulled away from you but took ahold of your hand, you quickly grabbed your drink as you were being pulled by him.

you both looked around, you didn’t know what to look for but michael knew. he could see from the corner of his eye he could see that chica had moved and now stood in a dark corner.

“did you guys hear that?” kim asked, which made you both jump again. you both pulled your hands away from each other.

you smiled at her, “told you it would be spooky” you giggled and she rolled her eyes.

“its getting really late, we should get ready to leave.” Michael said, walking towards the private party room.

you and Michael cleaned up the room while kim got mira, jeremy and steven collected and ready to leave.

kim went out first then mira, jeremy and steven and you followed behind to make sure they got through safely. Michael did a mental check of everything before crawling out himself.

you carried the bag that had empty cups, bottles and cans and some full ones.

“im just gonna take them to mira’s house” kim said, mira gave her the keys earlier.

“i’ll take y/n” Michael yawned and ran his hands through his hair which just made it fluffier.

“i think this is the only time you two have gotten along” kim laughed, you rolled your eyes and Michael mumbled “shut up”

once you helped get mira and steven in the car kim was saying her goodbyes.

“call me when you get home” you said as you hopped into Michael's truck and put the bag in the back.

“i will, get home safe” kim said and backed out.

a few minutes into the drive you spotted the cd you gave him. you leaned over and grabbed it.

“my singing is shit but you keep my cd in your truck?” you asked with a sly smirk, you watched Michael smile and shake his head.

“there's a reason it was on the floor” he quipped and leaned back in his seat.

“oh yeah, on the floor next to your playboy” you said and held up the magazine, Michael inhaled sharply and snatched the magazine from you and tossed it into the back.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael responded and looked over at you.

you laughed and smacked his shoulder. “you can admit that you love my band, i won't tell anyone” you said.

Michael pulled into his driveway, his fathers car not there which did make him worry.

“there’s nothing to admit” he sighed, turning off the ignition.

“sure” you said, dragging it out as you undid your seatbelt.

you and michael got closer, you leaned against the center console and just when you were about to close the gap, you leaned back, smirked and shook your head.

“punishment for saying my singing is shit” you said and got out of the truck.

[sephifrog]

Genesis Rhapsodos alphabet headcanons

A -Affirmations (what he calls you)

 My Goddess, love 

B -Blush (does he blush when you're close by?/How do you make him blush)

Feel Gen only gets flustered when he’s drunk because if you try to make him blush he just turns it right back around on you-it’s worse if you were trying to embarrass him and he just chuckles deeply and sends you a smirk before turning the tables, your usually the one that's blushing and pouting

C -Comfort (how does he comfort you or what do you do that comforts him)

Playing with his hair or singing to him even if you’re bad at it he likes hearing your voice it grounds him, and if you play with his hair he’s putty in your hands

When he comforts you he gets you to cuddle up to him and reads you a book (more than likely loveless), hearing his heart as well as having his arms around you makes you feel safe and calm

D -Dates ( what do you do on your dates)

Wine and diner-he would parade you around - he also has moments when he wants you all to himself however so you’ll have the occasional at-home date and eat his cooking

On your first date, he took you to an expensive restaurant and ordered the most expensive wine he could get, he wanted to impress you (and he was nervous below his cocky attitude and needed some liquid courage) E -End (what would end your relationship?)

Being in Silver Elite -not believing in him, I feel he’s very touched and love-starved and if you start to doubt him it will hurt and he will lash out with his words

F -Fear (what he’s afraid of)

He fears you choosing someone else over him and leaving him - if it's during crisis core he’s afraid you’ll hate him or someone will hurt you

G -Genesis Rhapsodos

An arrogant, prideful man but if he loves you , you get to see a softer side, one that loves Dumbapple pie and reading poems at all hours of the day, he’s petty though so be careful if you upset him he’ll never let it go until he messes up (but he would argue he never messes up)

H -Hold (how he holds you)

Genesis would always hold you from behind loving the feel of your hips in his hands, even if your taller he would just rest his head on your shoulder -he also loves it when you hold him

I -Injured (what would he do if you were hurt?)

He’s a hot head if he saw it happen whatever hurt you is on fire withering on the floor while he checks on you, he would be the type to lash out at anyone except Angeal if they tried to take you from him

J -Jealous (is he Jealous?)

Not really, he knows he's hot shit and that you love him, however, if you show Sephiroth even a pinch of affection he's a sulky mess or about to challenge him to a sparing match he doesn’t play when it comes to Seph

K -Kiss (favourite place to kiss)

He loves kissing your neck and lips

He loves it when you kiss his chest or honestly anywhere 

L -Laugh (something that makes him laugh)

The way you try to read loveless and your brow furrows in annoyance when you don’t understand and have to trot over to him and ask

M -Memory (his favourite memory with you)

When you wore his uniform and pretended to be him

N -Needy

Not as needy as Zack but still quite Neddy especially behind closed doors

O -Over (what is something you had to get over as partners)

His fans, their very upset he’s off the market

P -PDA

He is very open, not caring who is there to see he knows he can protect you from his fan club and honestly wants people to know you tied to him

Q -Quip (can he joke around with you? Do you have inside jokes)You have a few but most of the time his jokes fall flat and he doesn’t get some of your humor

R -Romantic (is he romantic?)

Overly so, it can get too much sometimes so he’s learned when to tune it down

S -Sleep (how do you sleep next to one another)

He holds you to his chest most of the time he sleeps on his back with his arm around you

T -Treasure (what is something he had that reminds him of you and what did he give you to remind you of him?)

 a painting of you both one he had done on your first date without you knowing

You gave him a limited edition Loveless copy maybe someone in your family had it and only a few were made

U -Unlikely (what is something that he would probably never do)

To change himself for you he likes who he is

V -vulnerable

Only behind closed doors he has an image after all

W -Wedding (would he want to get married?)

Man would want the flashiest wedding

X -(e)X (would he be friends with an ex)

No, man is petty, and after he splits with someone he’s done with them

Y -Year (how would he act on New Year's?)

Would take you out to a flashy New years party and kiss you passionately when it strikes midnight

Z -Zoo (would you get any pets?)

Feel a cat just as temperamental as him-

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I have never seen a home w/so many different styles as this 1997 mansion in Olympia Fields, Illinois. 7bds, 12.5ba, $3.499M. Clearly, they couldn't settle on one house design. The once-decaying property was brought back to life by the late Rudolph Isley of the The Isley Brothers, and his wife, Elaine. Check it out.

They've tried to mix rustic lodge with very contemporary and provincial styles- looks like maybe the couple's tastes clashed and this is the architectural compromise that resulted.

It begins with a modern rustic look great room with contemporary decor. I do like the idea of a red & white color scheme. Look, even the black keys on the piano are red. (I guess money can buy anything.)

Modern office with a Baroque style desk.

This is different. The modern kitchen has a HUGE fancy French dining set for 20. Look at the size of the chandelier. The coffered ceiling is rustic. These compromises are way too much.

Log cabin style sunroom.

These rooms are too plain for such fancy furniture. It doesn't look right. Put up some wainscoting, a fireplace, something.

The primary bedroom is disappointing. Rustic fireplace, red carpet and gray furniture.

The en-suite has a modern stone / log cabin feature wall. It has such conflicting styles with starkly plain walls and floors.

This Pirates of the Caribbean pool room is amazing, though.

Look at the little shack, waterfall, and treehouse.

Love this so much. Look at the lighting, too. I would buy it for this, alone.

And, then we go to a huge brick man cave with a fireplace and kitchen area.

Then, we go to an octagonal log cabin room. They have the same Bose stereo I have, on the fireplace (haven't used it in ages b/c it plays CDs).

This is the huge bedroom of a Bulls fan with an en-suite behind an open wall.

And, here's a bedroom with a giraffe theme, but the only indication of that is some wallpaper.

And, another family room.

The home gym walled in glass.

This home disturbs me. A room that looks like a basement- no windows. One fancy bed and carpet, plus a modern side table and armoire in sterile & stark white room.

And, then it switches to retro diner in the 2nd kitchen. I do love these appliances, though. At least put up some Coca Cola signs, neon, or some retro decor.

The home theater needs some dark wallpaper and a black ceiling w/at least a popcorn machine. This home is too minimalist. I hope that a new buyer will spruce up the decor.

The carpeted garage.

Basketball court.

The lot is 3.7 acres and includes a private pond.