#but I also don’t want to look better than anyone else bc I have low support needs

[aintmyjewelry]

soft launching my ASD diagnosis on my personal instagram for autism acceptance month

[forest-hashira]

Birds of a Feather

happy pride everyone! finally some explicitly queer content (even tho nothing i write is cishet in my mind). another coming out fic. idc if it's cliche, it's a big deal for our girl and i'm very proud of her ok? also you legally have to be nice to me and her this whole month bc it's pride. also, this is my entry for @dearbraus's "blooming into you" collab! be sure to check out the rest of the masterlist 💜

series masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~2.4k | cw: gender neutral reader, transfem gojo, coming out, fluff, super light angst (she's nervous to come out), gumi's in this one!, hints of parental gojo/mentions of gojo raising megumi, megumi is a trans man in this au

Satoru continued to grow her hair out after you first trimmed her undercut, continued painting her nails, and wore her clear lip gloss to the school more days than not. She seemed content with things as they were – and if she was content, you were content – but when her hair got long enough for you to braid out of her face, she decided it was time to take another step in her transition.

“Don’t you think it’s time I told someone else about… well. About me, I guess,” she asked one evening while you were in the kitchen.

The question caught you off guard, and you finished setting up the rice cooker before turning to face her. She was avoiding your gaze, instead staring down at her nails; her polish was starting to chip a bit, and you’d been trying to break her of the habit of picking it off when it would chip.

“That’s not really my decision,” you responded gently, watching her closely. “Are you ready to tell anyone else?”

She hesitated, still not meeting your gaze. “I think people are starting to notice anyway.” Her words were so soft you nearly missed them, but the anxiety that permeated her words broke your heart.

“What makes you think that?” You stepped closer, crossing the room and taking her hands into your own when you noticed her start to pick at her nail polish. The odds that anyone had been cruel to her were low, but it didn’t ease the surge of protectiveness that flared in your chest.

“Nobara,” she said quietly. “She mentioned my hair, and my nails.”

Your brows furrowed; of course it was Nobara who said something first. “What did she say about them?”

A shrug. “Nothing in particular, really. Just pointed them out. She’s mentioned my nails a couple times.” 

“Didn’t you say Yuji really liked your nails the first time Nobara pointed them out?” The smile Satoru had worn when sharing that piece of information with you a few weeks back had been so sweet, bashful but excited, nearly giddy that someone else liked the small changes she was making to her appearance.

“…Yeah,” she agreed, the corner of her lips twitching slightly. “He did. He had Nobara paint his nails after classes that day.”

A smile tugged at your own lips then, and you gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “See? Your students don’t think poorly of you for any of the changes you’ve already made. You don’t have to take any steps you’re not ready for yet.”

Finally, she looked up from her hands and met your gaze, managing a small and still slightly nervous smile. “I think… I think I am ready to tell someone else, though. I think it’ll help me feel better about all of this.”

You gave a small nod. “Alright, ‘Toru. If you’re really ready, I’ve got your back. Do you know who you want to tell?”

Her smile faltered slightly, but it didn’t disappear entirely. “Not really,” she admitted with a sigh. “I know I’ll tell everyone eventually, somehow, but it feels…” Satoru trailed off for a moment, and you could tell from her expression that she was trying to find the right words. “I dunno, just feels odd to rank how important people are to me, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you assured her. Another moment of silence passed as you considered the best way to reframe it for her, hopefully make it easier for her to decide who to tell first. “Well, think about it this way: this isn’t about how important each person is to you, at least not for what order you tell them in. This is about who you’re comfortable confiding in, or who you’re comfortable being open with. It’s about you, princess, not everyone else.”

Something in your girlfriend’s expression shifted as you spoke, almost like it was clicking for her, and you watched some of the tension bleed from her shoulders. “Yeah,” she agreed, smiling a bit brighter again. “Yeah, this is about me. You’re right.”

Seeing her more at ease had you smiling a bit brighter, too, and you squeezed her hands again. “Can I make a suggestion about who to tell?” you asked. “You can say no, of course. This is a big step forward, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to make the decision for you.”

“No, it’s okay, go ahead,” Satoru said. “I still don’t have anyone in mind, so I’m open to suggestions.” Her expression was earnest as she looked down at you, all of her attention focused on you.

“I think Megumi would be a good choice.”

The suggestion seemed to catch her off guard, and she blinked a few times before she spoke again. “Really?” she asked. “Why Gumi?”

“‘Cause he’s trans, too, remember?” you reminded, still smiling gently up at her. “He’ll understand.” 

“Oh, yeah.” A fierce blush spread across her face almost faster than you could process, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly at her. It honestly didn’t surprise you that she had sort of forgotten about that detail of Megumi’s gender; it’s not like it was something that was discussed frequently between them, since Megumi was already presenting as a boy when Satoru first met him, and the revelation of him being trans didn’t come along until the boy started puberty. Megumi had always just been Megumi, and nobody that mattered had ever treated him any differently because he was trans. You knew that the boy would think the same of Satoru, and that he would even likely be one of Satoru’s fiercest advocates after he learned of this development.

“I think I will tell Gumi first,” Satoru said after a few moments. “Like you said, he’ll get it, and I think… I think that understanding is what I need to start with.”

“I’m really proud of you for recognizing that, ‘Toru,” you told her with a grin. This process hadn’t been all that easy on her, so being able to identify and verbalize her needs herself was a good sign.

As impossible as it should have been, she seemed to blush even more at your words, the red now stretching from the tips of her ears all the way down her neck, and all you could think was how much it made her eyes pop. Unable to resist, you pushed in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before settling back into your former spot. 

“You want some more time to think about how you wanna tell him?” you asked curiously, thumbs rubbing over her knuckles absentmindedly. You were a bit surprised when she shook her head, though.

“No,” she said softly. “If I think about it for too long I might talk myself out of it. I’ll tell him tomorrow after class.”

“Would you like me to be there with you when you tell him? For moral support?”

“...Yeah,” Satoru whispered. “Yeah, I would.”

“I’ll be there, then.”

The beep that indicated that the rice cooker was finished nearly made you both jump, but you just chuckled softly. “Alright, princess, we’ll figure everything else out later. For now, let’s eat.”

Just as you promised, you went to the school with lunch for yourself and Satoru, knowing that the break between classes and training was when your girlfriend was planning to speak to Megumi and share her life update. You arrived just as Satoru was finishing her lesson, and waited patiently outside the door, not wanting to interrupt at all. When the door slid open a couple minutes later, you took a half step back to give the students a bit more room to leave. You smiled at them as you saw them.

“Hi Nobara-chan, Yuji-kun. It’s good to see you,” you greeted as they passed you, but you reached out to catch Megumi before he could slip away. “Megumi, could you come back in with me for a moment?”

The boy paused when he felt your hand on his arm, and his brows furrowed slightly when you used his full name, rather than a nickname like you tended to do, since you’d known him so long; if you used his full name, it meant something serious was happening. “Yeah, of course.” He looked up when Yuji called out to him, and he quickly waved his classmates off, promising to catch up with them soon.

A slight sense of relief washed over you as Megumi agreed to come with you without any argument; he wasn’t as combative as he’d been when he was younger, but it was still nice when he didn’t make a fuss. The two of you stepped back into the classroom, where Satoru sat at her desk. She brightened a bit when she saw you and stood from her chair, though when she saw Megumi right behind you, it seemed to hit her all over again what was about to happen.

“Hi, ‘Toru,” you greeted, sliding the door to the classroom shut once Megumi was fully in the room with you. The action seemed to make him a little apprehensive, but he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t make to leave, either, which was another relief to you, and, you assumed, to Satoru.

Your girlfriend murmured a small greeting in return as you stepped closer, and allowed you to tug her around the front of the desk without fuss. She held tight to your hand as she came to stand beside you, though, and you could feel the faintest tremor in her grip.

“Is something wrong?” Megumi asked, glancing between the two of you, though his gaze lingered on Satoru a bit more; his teacher was rarely this quiet, so it was a definite sign that whatever this conversation was about, it was serious.

“No,” you answered right away, wanting to ease any nerves the boy might have. “Nothing’s wrong. Satoru has something to tell you, that’s all.”

You looked up at your partner then, offering her a soft smile when she looked back down at you, and when she seemed to hesitate, you squeezed her hand, silently encouraging her to share her news; you couldn’t do this for her, even if you hated how nervous she was about doing it herself.

She gave you a tiny nod, taking a deep breath and turning back to look at Megumi. “Well… I know you’ve noticed some changes with me recently,” she started. “Nobara was pretty insistent on pointing out my nails, and how my hair is growing out now.” With that, she pulled her blindfold down, allowing her hair to fall into her face completely for a moment before she ran her fingers through it, tugging lightly on it in a self-soothing motion. Despite the fact that her eyes were no longer covered, she still wasn’t quite making eye contact with the boy she’d spent the last ten years raising. 

Megumi nodded at Satoru’s words, though he said nothing, clearly not wanting to interrupt and throw his sensei off from whatever it was Satoru was trying to tell him.

The snowy haired sorcerer let out a shaky breath before she continued. “Before I started painting my nails, or intentionally growing my hair out, or anything like that, I did some reflecting, and I… I realized that I’m not, uh. I’m not—”

You frowned when she got a bit choked up, and you squeezed her hand again, leaning in a bit and resting your head on her arm in silent support. The touch seemed to punch a small gasp from her, but it was enough to let her take a steadying breath and keep going, to let her finish what she started without fully breaking down in the middle.

“I realized that I’m not a man. I never have been, I just… didn’t have the words to explain it. Or the option to even consider it, really.” A small, almost bitter laugh escaped her then, but she shook her head slightly, likely pushing any of the lingering negative feelings aside.

Finally, she met Megumi’s steady gaze. “I’m still me,” she said. “I’m just… not a man. I’m a woman.” She shrugged slightly when she finished, and it wasn’t long before she dropped his gaze again.

The boy was silent for a few long moments, his expression unreadable as he nodded again, but when he finally spoke, you could feel the tension bleed from your girlfriend’s frame. “Do you still want me to call you Gojo-Sensei?”

Satoru’s head shot up at the question, her expression brightening. “Yeah,” she laughed softly. “Yeah, that’s fine. I like my name, I don’t plan on changing it.” She hesitated for a moment, unsure, then asked, voice small, “Can I give you a hug?”

The blush that dusted Megumi’s face at the question was endearing, and it made you smile, especially when he mumbled that yes, a hug was fine. Satoru was quick to release your hand and close the distance between herself and her ward, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Thanks, Gumi,” she whispered, face half buried in his hair.

His arms came up to wrap around her in return. “Just tell me when I can start correcting people about your pronouns and everything,” he replied. He peeked at you around his teacher’s arm, and you could see a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“You gonna get into fights defending me?” the sorceress asked, somewhat teasingly; given Megumi’s violent streak in middle school, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

“If I have to, yeah. Nobody’s getting away with that shit on my watch.”

She let out a choked half-laugh, half-sob at his words, and squeezed him a bit tighter. “I love you, Gumi.” 

The words caught both you and Megumi off guard, his face going an even deeper shade of red; Satoru hadn’t said those words to the boy since he was little, probably because he’d been resistant to the sentiment – understandably so, after everything he’d gone through so early in his life.

This time, though, he didn’t try to squirm away from the affection, or deflect or ignore what had been said to him. Instead, he squeezed Satoru a bit tighter, and whispered something that sounded an awful lot like “Love you, too.”

i'm an animal rn apparently sorry guys. i've finished 3 fics in 8 days (even tho i've spaced out posting them here). i hope you're enjoying my insanity at least AHAHA. also peep the new divider!!! i'll be using it going forward bc it's cute and is perfect for this series 💜

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @dr-runs-with-scissors @teddybeartoji @gods-landing @dearbraus (sign up for my taglist here!)

dividers by cafekitsune

[sminiac]

౨ৎ⋆˚｡ Minecraft w xikers !

⋆ Ot10 xikers + reader

💌 — This is very self indulgent, and completely random but I feel like playing Minecraft with xikers would be so fun! Also bc I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve last written something for the boys :,)

Minjae would be assigning every member a task of course, and yk, maybe during the process of sorting everyone out so there’s no butting heads he’d receive a little backlash, but still!

Minjae’s your shadow, keeps you safe, keeps your hunger bar full as he’s the one who mainly gathers food. Also scopes out the prettiest places for you to build things, he claims he just stumbled upon his findings but everyone else knows he’s going out of his way to find places for you. Since he’s moderator he often gives only you flying/teleporting privileges, also sneaks you items from creative if you’re struggling to collect them in survival, but don’t tell anyone! He’s also the main member who you see the least of since he’s always flying around the world, travelling far and wide, teleports you just so you can see your favourite animals, the pandas, cats, polar bears, axolotls, even hostile mobs that you think are cool!

Remainder of members under the cut!

Hyunwoo, Hunter and Junghoon are tasked with gathering basic above ground material, wood, sand, stone etc. the only thing is they have to come back with a chest full amount because hello? There’s 11 of you. The thing is you’re so hard to say no to that whatever type of wood you’re recommending for the house they’re immediately agreeing, talking over one another about how they think it would look nice,, even if the material you want only comes from a significantly distant or difficult biome.

Hyunwoo’s a big time hog, makes up whatever excuse he can so you’ll come sprinting to him, like he somehow broke solid stone above him not knowing that gravel was on top of it and now he’s suffocating to death? It’s like a reflex to call out for you to come and save him, even if someone else is closer to him than you are. Will literally pout if someone else gets to him first, “Aww, I wanted Y/n to save me:(“ He’s not shy about his feelings, not at all.

Hunter would keep an eye on you, checking in every few minutes to see where you are, literally takes a break from breaking trees to run and find you. Makes conversation about the vision you have for your shared home, he’d even give you ideas! Taking silent breaks to scroll on Pinterest for ideas that he’d then promptly send to you through a private message, secretly enjoys the attention and praise he receives from you in return. The type to build you cute things on the side, even leaves little sweet messages on signs for you to find, but he would be a little flustered if anyone else just so happened to sprint past it.

Junghoon is incredibly helpful, like Hunter he’s always making his way to come and visit you, quietly dropping you stacks of material you’re supposed to be gathering by yourself and running away before you have the chance to politely reject it. He also frequently asks about your weapons/farming tools, its longevity bar is running low? He’s either offering you his or requesting that someone on the mining team find you iron/diamonds so he can craft you a new, better set.

Jinsik, Sumin and Yechan would already be in the nether, busied with preparations to enter the end, but they’d always find little ways to talk/interact with you.

Jinsik is clingy, isn’t shy about wanting to hold your hand or initiate skinship with you, so when he’s unable to simply be by your side in the game he’s a little restless, so eager to get back to you asap which is why he’s so strict with Yechan, always trying to keep him in line, because it means they could collect what they came for faster and get out sooner. Admittedly he becomes a little selfish… jealous in a sense from hearing the others talk to you about something he doesn’t understand because he doesn’t have the context, all he knows is that he wants to talk to you too :(

Sumin’s really bad for being ‘forgetful’, but it’s really all a ploy so he can come back through the portal to see you. It starts becoming obvious when he doesn’t have the basic material in his inventory to craft the essentials, or food, so he always has to go back, conveniently you’re there! And the two of you will venture out to collect what he needs together because if you’re helping him it’ll cut down the time by half, well… from what Jinsik knows at least. Also the worst for unnecessarily causing damage to his members health, it just doesn’t register so he frequently hits them when they say something funny or are annoying him. Never you though, never ever. In fact! He’s very cautious around you, often telling you to be careful around steep ledges and hostile mobs that attack without being provoked, literally your bodyguard.

Yechan a lot of the time gets distracted whilst wandering around with the other 2 and often ends up always somehow getting into a little trouble whilst entering fortresses, bastion remnants, literally anywhere dangerous by himself for the sake of getting you cool stuff. One of the loudest people in the party besides Junmin, always shrieking and screaming when a mob starts attacking him, partially kicks up the dramatics because he likes hearing you laugh when he’s scared/the silly arguments when Sumin scolds him for running off without them, runs to you when you’re present asking for help because he knows Sumin won’t be mean when you’re around.

Junmin, Yujun, and Seeun are the aforementioned mining team! The 3 who are especially deprived of your companionship because once they get to work there’s hardly time for them to leave the underground tunnels and vast expanse of caves they come across. It helps when you’re able to run them food and extra wood so they can make sticks for torches, they steal you when they can, showing you the cool places they’ve found and the pretty material they think you’d like!

Junmin is mostly by himself for a good amount of time because he’s the one who is closest to the surface, only going so deep into the ground to collect coal, iron, red stone, lapis. He enjoys hearing your thoughts on how to sort out the chests and their contents, especially when you offer to help him with rearranging everything for easier access. He makes for a nice conversation, tells you that if you need help with building anything that he’s your guy! Also offers to go out and find pretty flowers/seeds for your garden, the type to show up with the most random gifts for you, and you’re just “How did you find this” and he just tells you not to worry about it, that he’ll find even more if you want!

Yujun #1 sweetheart, gets so excited when he finds diamonds or any of your favourite blocks/ores and always requests that you’re teleported to him so you can come and see, always ends up giving it to you, telling you to keep it safe and to make good use of it. “I’ll find more for you!” HE’S SO CUTIE 😞 just wants to deck you out in diamonds and rare items, plus bragging rights :b also a victim to Seeun’s habit of always being the main reason for a lot of the deaths, there’s a community wall full of signs and death tally’s, a name that has a reputation for being the most common reason for deaths is Seeun, Yujun being his main victim.

Seeun, aka your #1 hater in Minecraft, like actually praying on your downfall. I really, truly believe his way of flirting is teasing and poking fun at you. You better not lose sight of him in ravines for too long or he’ll show up out of nowhere with a group of mobs behind him that are being led straight to you. He doesn’t let them kill you of course… okay, well maybe once or twice but he swears it was by accident and he just likes scaring you. Even when you think he’s distracted by mining ores he is absolutely not, he’ll wait until you’re looking out at your surroundings and then pretends to break the block under you that’s keeping you from falling to your death. He’ll let it seem like he’s actually going to break it before lifting his finger and returning back to what he was doing like nothing happened, even if you’re laughing, screaming at him to knock it off.

[i-still-mask-because]

ok so i read a lot of things from other Covid conscious people about masking as community care and why it’s important to steer the conversation away from individualism, and I really do believe in that, and I worry so much about the people I see who don’t wear masks or take covid precautions

BUT i’m also absolutely petrified of developing any other health conditions because I already have several (not immune related & they don’t make me super high risk for covid) chronic pain/disabilities and i can barely deal with them as it is. & i feel like because i mask around literally everyone including housemates, there’s such a low risk of me passing anything on to other people that i don’t really need to worry about it? which only kind of makes sense so i try to check that thought when it comes up

I’m worried that my Covid precautions are just coming from a place of individualism anyways and maybe if I really cared about community care as much as i should, I wouldn’t be so focused on my own personal health?

and sometimes i feel like i’m “better” than my friends who won’t mask Anywhere (except in a car with me bc i asked them to) but if it’s all just coming from self-preservation, i worry i’m just as bad. (& obviously this is nuanced too, like i’m trying to talk to them abt this and understand their points of view in a way that makes space for them to join me in being covid-conscious but it’s arguably not accomplishing shit. too early to tell)

sorry this is very longg but basically i’m just wondering if you have any advice or thoughts on that, & how to be less individualist in my covid safety? thank u for everything you do on this blog, it means so much to me <3

Hey there 👋🏾

I don't think it's individualist if the main reason you mask is for self-preservation. There's a lot of people that are masking because they need to for their own self-preservation. And that doesn't make the choice to mask a self-centered, every-man-for-himself decision. It's just self-preservation, which is necessary. I'd rather hang out with someone that's masking because they know they cannot risk another covid infection over someone that dropped masking because, "It is what it is man, I just wanna live my life!". I think the fact that you want to survive is important, and you should give yourself credit for that. And from the outside looking in, you going out in public with a mask is community care in and of itself because there's without a doubt someone that needed the protection you're giving them.

In regards to you feeling like you're better than your friends; I honestly get it. I don't necessarily think I'm more superior than anyone for masking, but I get the feeling of feeling proud of myself for still staying strong in keeping up masking despite all the odds and alienation. And I get feeling good about being well-informed and prepared. You mentioned that you've been trying to get them on the same page as you, but it's been feeling like pulling teeth; I absolutely get how you're feeling. If you feel like this is impacting the way you perceive your friends, I think taking time to sit with and process the kind of dynamic you want with your friends could be helpful, and working from there. I wish I could suggest some covid-cautious counselors who may also understand for you to talk to, but I'm really not sure of anyone right now 😭 (if someone happens to know, please feel free to share!)

Anyone else is free to share their thoughts and suggestions, of course!

[thegloomybat]

I need advice on what to about s⭐️ving with the meds i take.

Heyy. So continuing on my last post. I’m just in a bit of a pickle rn. So, i have rlly bad adhd, but i was never diagnosed somehow until last year, when i was EXTREMELY behind in school, i was not on track to graduate on time. I finally got diagnosed and prescribed adderall. But then i switch psychiatrists and he unprescribed it the first appointment bc he w31gh3d me and i was underw31ght :( he put me on wg meds and at the time i didn’t know :( so earlier this year i continued to be SUPER behind, when i was at a ‘healthy’ w8 (gross) he prescribed it back, and then unprescribed 2 times again for unrelated reasons😭well, i didn’t graduate in may like i was supposed to. It’s October, now i’m just trying to get my ged. I need adderall to do absolutely anything, but rn mainly for school. So i’ve been on it again for the past few months. I’ve been in a plateau with my w8. Earlier this year i started l0sing w8 again and he threatened to give me the wg meds again if i kept going down. I know he’ll take me off the adderall again if i go too low. Does anyone have advice on how to be heavier for a w31gh in😭he used to check me for anything in my pockets and hats, he hasn’t done this in a long time tho. But just in case? Especially if i start going down a lot again, he specializes in ED’s (very unfortunate, my mom made me go to him, i stay bc i need meds), he said that last year he would’ve hospitalized me if i got any lower. I CANNOTT let that happen, i would actually lose it. So there’s that. But my main point is, im wondering if anyone else takes adderall and has active 4n4? I wanna know your guyses experiences because one of the reasons i still eat more than i want to (less than or equal to 800) is because i also don’t want to get any alarming bad side effects bc its a stimulant. Like i’m not tryna have a heart attack or something 😭butttt i can’t stand looking like this anymore or not l0sing w8. Idk what to do. It helps me s⭐️ve/l0se my ap3tit3 which is good, but then i just eat up too many cals in one meal to compensate. I just don’t want to have a heart attack or something serious lol. The past few days i’ve been doing much better at being below 800, around 750-650. I’ve still been taking it. I eat a bigger meal in the morning before i take it. Around 300-400 cals. (It sounds like so much ): and then about 8-10 hours later i’ll eat again, something around or less than 200. About that. With the 750-650 intake, i’m finally going down again!! But, i just feel weird throughout the day when i take it. I get feelings of my heart dropping, or aching (i think it’s just anxiety tho) or my brain genuinely feels fuzzy its so weird. And like dizzy i guess. I wanna go lower on my cals intake but idk how low i should go while taking it. I just need to continue taking it tho, but i’m not tryna have like a life-threatening episode bc i’m not 34ting enough and taking a heavy stimulate (i take 20mg XR). At the same time, i used to take it last year when i was under w8 and i was fine-ish?? I only took 10mg tho. One time i took a 30mg IR and i was fine too?? I’m just lowkey traumatized cuz there HAS been times where i took it and had TERRIBLE reactions, like trembling so much, SO much trouble breathing, just this weird feeling and so much anxiety and panic it was so bad i thought that was it for me😭BUT whenever that happened, i 🤮 the night before. I just don’t want that or anything worse to happen even if i don’t 🤮 but just by s⭐️ving yk? Does anyone have the same experience or any advice or tips???

[ghostofskywalker]

Your Bad Batch fics are my favorite things to read, could you possibly write Hunter being a bit jealous when Rex hangs out with the reader bc they used to fight beside him during the Clone Wars???

aww, thank you so much!! you and @dragonrider9905 had the same idea of jealous hunter, so i combined both prompts :)

prompt: “is this what jealousy feels like? i’ve never felt this way before. i don’t like it.” “then DO something about it.”

words: 724

clone troopers masterlist

The delight in your voice was obvious as you realized who was currently standing in Cid’s parlor, the bulky cloak he wore doing absolutely nothing to hide him. Hunter felt himself tense as he watched you walk up to Rex and wrap him in a hug, even more so when he saw the smile on the captain’s face. 

“I thought you were dead!” Those words, that to anyone else might have been polite or friendly, seemed to hold a special weight as you said them to Rex. 

And to counter that, the look on his face was that of a fondness Hunter had never seen from him before. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He wasn’t stupid, he knew that before Order 66, you had worked primarily with the 501st, so it would make sense that you had a bond with Rex and Echo that might have been different from the one you had with him and the rest of the Bad Batch. But you didn’t usually act this way around Echo, the annoying voice in his head pointed out, which only made his feelings more confusing. 

He tried not to think about it as he ordered another drink from Cid, even after you and Rex walked over and sat down at another table, separate from the area where his squad and Omega were sitting. 

Echo was staring at him, that much Hunter knew, and he had a sinking feeling that it was probably because he had figured out the sergeant’s most guarded secret, the not-so-little crush he had on you.

As the night went on, the rest of the team walked away to talk to other people and do other things, and Hunter just heaved a sigh. “Is this what jealousy feels like?” he thought out loud, voice pitched low so that no one else heard him. “I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t like it.”

But apparently he hadn’t been quiet enough. “Yeah, it is,” Echo said. “And you want to know how you can get rid of the feeling?” 

Sighing again, he decided to humor his brother. “How?” 

“You DO something about it.” That was not the answer Hunter wanted to hear. “I can say without a shadow of a doubt that there isn’t anything going on between those two, but if you want to change the situation, you need to act on your feelings rather than just sitting here like a lovesick tooka.” 

“This is ridiculous, isn’t there an easier way to get rid of it?” 

Echo just laughed, shaking his head. “No, and it’s honestly a little embarrassing to watch you like this, you really just need to say something already.” 

But before Hunter could respond, you entered the conversation (he had apparently missed the fact that you were approaching the bar for another drink). “Say something about what?” 

The glare Hunter shot towards Echo could have probably wilted a plant, but the ARC trooper didn’t seem to get the message. “I was just saying that Hunter needs to act on his feelings, because it’s always better to act on them and know rather than just pine and wonder, right?” 

You nodded, a confused expression crossing your face as you got your drink from Cid. “What feelings is he going to act on?” 

“The ones he has for you.” 

“Echo!” Now he was really annoyed, but he also knew that he would never have said anything about it by himself.  

And of course his brother seemed to disappear all of the sudden, and it was only just you and him now. “I’m sorry about him.” 

Before he could finish his sentence, you reached down to take his hand. “I have feelings for you too, if that’s why Echo was trying to tell me.” 

“But-” Hunter gestured over towards where Rex was still sitting. “I thought-”

You laughed as you realized what he was suggesting. “No, it’s not like that with Rex,” you said. “In fact, he was the one who was just convincing me to come over here and talk to you.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” As you spoke, you squeezed his hand and started to walk away, bringing him with you. The gesture was wordless, but Hunter understood what you meant as he stood up to follow you, and he couldn’t wait to see where it was going to go. 

[katatty]

Hi, Kat! Fellow UK simmer here - been following you for a while here on tumblr (love your MCC posts), and am currently binging all your YouTube content after recently stumbling across your channel! I have a quick question related to YouTube, if you don’t mind answering, as I’m interested in potentially making some videos of my own. May I ask what software and setup you use to record your videos? As your audio is very good, I presume you use a mic? Your screen recordings are very smooth so I’d be interested in what programme you’re using, although I’m sure your computer has a lot to do with that. I hope my question makes sense! Thanks in advance for your help.

Hello! I don't mind answering at all, I am answering it publically in case anyone else is interested but do feel free to message me if you want to chat in more detail, I'd be happy to talk shop :) I wish I had people to talk to when I started out, I was too intimidated to approach anyone lol!

(and aaaa, I'm flattered to hear you are binging my channel, thank you!! its funny (but nice!) hearing a compliment on my audio bc I am self-concious about it and think it is not the best, hahaha)

I use OBS Studio for recording, which I think is pretty standard. But I do my video editing in Vegas Pro which idk if its common (I think people usually use adobe these days?) but I used a pirated version of Vegas to make AMVs back when I was a teenager so that was what I went with XD

I do have a decent PC but also play with low cc when I am recording for Youtube, as the game runs a little smoother and doesn't lag too much, which I think looks nicer on video! I also delete all my raw footage after I have finished editing/rendering as the files can get pretty big

edit: forgot to include this (idk if useful) but my OBS settings are set to recrod at 60FPS at a resolution of 1920x1018

I do use a mic! My first few videos were just recorded on a cheap bluetooth headset I used for work but the sound quality was pretty bad, haha. TBH I don't know much about mics, my partner is a musician and has a bunch of mics & equipment so I just borrowed his stuff lol! The mic is an Audio Technica AT2020 condenser microphone and its plugged into a M-Audio M-Track Solo USB audio interface (as the mic wouldnt plug into the PC otherwise, the interface also lets you adjust the gain which is nice) but idk if you really need something that fancy. I usually see people reccommend the Yeti mic for YouTube, which doesn't need an audio interface, idk if it is actually good or not but it seems like a popular choice?

Although if you are just starting out, I would not invest in any expensive mics or anything right off the bat - since you want to see if you actually enjoy the process of making videos first before spending any money on it! (For me at least I spend a LOT more time editing footage than recording it, it's very time consuming, although I think some creators do a lot less editing so its a style preference maybe). IMO Just start out with whatever you have and you can always upgrade later.

Also, the main thing I learned quickly which I think helped me about as much as using a better mic was having good "mic discipline". That's like, making sure your head/mouth is always the right sort of distance away from the microphone, making sure its positioned properly, trying to keep the volume you speak consistant, etc. I am still not always the best at this tbh! but am getting better :D

Hope this was useful!! Like I said, please feel free to msg me if you want to chat more about YT stuff :)

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Hello!! I would like an outsider ship please

I'm 5'5 with curly brown hair that I dye purple and Greenland it goes to just below my shoulders. My eye color is green and i wear glasses. My style tends to lean goth but on more casual days I look like a metalhead or a nerd. I listens to gothic rock, various metal genres, classical music, punk, ska and 60-80s rock. I love reading; I typically read horror, sci-fi and some classical books(currently read les miserables) but really down to read anything that sound interesting to me. I love horror movies, especially older horror movies, and I am a huge slasher movie fan. I also love star wars! I watch some anime and play DnD. I am a recovering theater kid(jk I'm not recover) and I love musicals. I have a RBF and I am fat. I'm fem presenting but my gender is a mystery and pronouns are whatever. I'm pansexual, so girl and/or boy ships are very welcome. I am learning how to play the guitar and skate board(I'm shit at both tho). I am a very needy/clingy person, not in a "i need affection constantly" way but more in a "im now stuck to your hip until you tell me to leave" and I love giving gifts to those I love. Sorry for this being pretty long.

Ps. Love your writing

(Why thank you pookie and bc of the compliment u got both a girl and a guy also you sound like so cool let’s be friends)

Your Outsiders Ship (s): Angela Shepard and Ponyboy Curtis!

Explanation: starting off with your appearance, I think that he would be extremely attracted to you from your purple and green hair that just stands out from everyone else in the crowd and alternative style. I’m not sure if you wanted me to mention this or not, but he would not give two shits that you’re fat. Pomyboy is a firm believer in #bigthighssavelives (like me) and if anyone has anything to say about you, he would for sure punch them in the face, even though he’s not a generally violent guy. I just think he really loves the way you look and you really stand out in a crowd and got his attention immediately. He saw you walk by him. His mouth was open for a full minute. It dropped so low They had to dig a hole in the concrete to make room for it. I think he also just really loves your alternative style in general. As for music, he would love listening to any type of music you introduced him to. I think he’s pretty into alternative kind of sad or stuff and would love it if you introduced him and you guys would have the best dates of just listening to music and sitting down with a good book and then afterwards at some point discussing it with each other and coming up with theories and just talking about the characters, the books surrounds and things like that. as for your nerdy hobbies, I think he would love it. I think he would absolutely be into dungeons and dragons would create the most complex, insane characters that aren’t even really that good at fighting but you know they just build the story a lot I feel like that’s the type of character he would create in DND. For movies, I think he would be a bit scared by horror movies so be prepared to have him end up in your lap, clinging onto you or something because I don’t know. I just feel like he would be terrified of them lmaoo He doesn’t mind you’re needing us and clinginess, and I honestly think it kind of goes perfectly with him because he loves that you still respect his boundaries but give him the love and affection that he feels like he lacks sometimes anyway I totally ship 💚💚

Explanation: OK I really ship you guys like so hard but starting off with appearances, I think that she would absolutely adore you. I think she would be a bit taller than you and find that absolutely adorable. I think that she really loves your hair and even wants to dye hers to sort of match yours a little bit she really loves your style and asks for fashion advice, like 24 seven so you better be prepared for that. She also thinks your glasses are incredibly cute and is constantly commenting on them and just loves the way that they make your eyes look. As for you being fat, she doesn’t really care at all if anything it just makes you guys have more subjects to bond over because she’s also used to being judged for the way that she looks maybe not in the same way as you, but she’s been treated pretty crappy by a lot of guys her entire life because of her both her family and, the fact that she stereotyped as a slut. People think that because she’s part of some big scary, greaser family that she can handle any kind of emotional damage and she’ll easily sleep with you which really isn’t true and she’s way more of a person than that and she really wishes people would see beyond that. She thinks it’s bad ass that you play guitar and I think she would ask if you would give her skating lessons and she absolutely sucks at it but you know it’s the thought that matters and I think that would become a little date for you. You guys that you frequently have like you’d have a scheduled day where you guys go to skate park and just have an absolute blast. I would love to introduce her because she has a generally limited range and generally is popular so whenever you introduced her many different genres, she’s mind blown and finally starts to get a little bit of diversity. as I think she’s used to being clingy and ignoring her like I said I just think guys have treated her really shitty in relationship so you would be just such a breath of fresh air and I think that she would absolutely love you and really appreciate, again, like Ponyboy that she feels wanted, but you’ll still respect her boundaries if she ever doesn’t feel like it.I SHIP THIS SO HARD BRO 💚

[thearchivistswilltolive]

THIS SONG! fuck. i’m cryinf. I know the end. wow phoebe bridgers you sure do get me. I hate this so much (lie. this is an amazing experience)

I love the contrast between the first half and the second. there’s so many amazing sections to it.

in the first, it’s slow, and sad, and there’s a huge sense of regret and nostalgia. a nostalgia that hits you in the chest and makes you miss your childhood even though you never enjoyed it while it was happening.

it’s confused, and calm and so so sad. “close my eyes, fantasise, three clicks and I’m home”

“you had to go I know I know I know, like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore” the person she’s missing’s departure felt inevitable, but she reminds herself of this bc she’s resolving her feelings through convincing herself that it’s ok. she compares the relationship to the troughs and peaks of waves that begin from nothing and grow so big and meaningful then fall back into nothing leaving with a sense of question as to whether they were ever there.

“not even the burnouts are out here anymore” is about the concrete nature of the apocalypse or whichever disaster is happening in the song. the burnouts are always pictured to have nowhere else to go, so if they aren’t present you know for sure that it’s serious.

“out in the park we watch the sunset, talking on a rusty swing set” evokes feelings of childish hope and joy through the imagery of the park and the swings, but also of an end of something through the sunset, and of the ruining of something that used to be nice, like the picture of the rust. it feels very mature somehow, like watching something beautiful coming to an end.

“after a while, you went quiet and I got mean” mistaking silence for rejection, and trying to avoid it by rejecting first. it feels like human nature and it hurts.

“I’m always pushing you away from me but you come back with gravity” trying to push someone away maybe because you don’t want to get hurt or because you think you’re not good enough, but the person will always come back because they have to and it’s destiny.

“and when the sirens sound you’ll hide under the floor but i’m not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado” others being afraid but feeling like you have nothing to lose and running back to places you once loved.

then there’s those gorgeous rising strings that bring in the next section:

“went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips” trying to find meaning in life through the beginning of life itself, something bigger than ourselves, fiction and fantasy being better than reality. finding yourself disappointed by the fantasy, finding nothing that means anything as you were always going to.

“windows down, scream along, to some america first rap country song” showing that she doesn’t care anymore and that screaming like this is a form of therapy, and it’s not like anyone is listening anymore anyway.

“big bolts of lightning hanging low over the coast everyone’s convinced it’s a government drone or an alien spaceship” shows the intersection of fantasy (the lightning) with reality (the coast), then the conspiratorial ideas of those around her about what they are shows the panic surrounding the apocalypse in question. everyone rushes to a fear inducing idea because it can help distract them from the terrifying reality (fear of god)

“either way, we’re not alone” this references the aliens, not being alone in the universe, and also the government drone, showing the government watching everyone. It also references the fact that everyone is supposedly going through this together, but that everyone still feels alone.

“i’ll find a new place to be from” feels like a rejection of the place you grew up in, because of the vibe of the place itself, the people you were around or the memories you have of it afterward, perhaps tainted by poor memories. saying goodbye to a place that used to mean a lot

“a haunted house with a picket fence” a place filled with fear that is glorified and acts like it is perfection. the lies of suburban towns.

“to float around and ghost my friends” running away from those you love and ignoring them in an act of self preservation. feeling like other people are doing important things and you’re just “floating around”

“the billboard said the end is near” the state of the world as we know it and the way it tells you everything is over making existing fears feel much worse. it’s difficult to ignore feelings when they are presented at you externally as well as mentally.

“I turned around, there was nothing there” the world being destroyed as we speak. things you thought existed but maybe they never did. maybe you dreamt it.

“yeah I guess the end is here” accepting it eventually, even though it feels so against your core beliefs.

and, eventually. my favourite, the screams. the sheer exasperation. it’s fear, it’s anger, and loss and it really feels out of place with the perfectly written song. it fits a lot with the themes though. it’s like you’re finally losing it after being so coherent and complete. like trying that hard has it’s negative side effects.

[iwasnevrrhere]

We had our 1st anniversary yesterday

Idk, I just feel…off

Like, there’s so many things I’ve learned abt his person, that idk how to feel abt

Ik they say, once you start making a pros and cons list…just wrap it up

And if I’m going to be honest, I feel like he feels for me that is doesn’t HAVE to be me.

Like, it just so happen to be be me…rn

What I learned is…we’re really different

Like we grew up differently and in different place, w different ppl.

And I feel like some of my basic beliefs, it’s his…or atleast things he could talk to me abt…BUT THEN AGAIN…ION KNOW. And it’s bc he never talks to me abt anything.

He never says things that I can improve on. NO NOTHING. Like he doesn’t talk to me abt what type of future he sees and wants for himself. And the future that he would like to have w me.

Every time I ask what goals do you wanna hit in our relationship? He eve we has an answer.

And I’m expecting to hear things like, “in 2yrs I wanna live in w you.” Or anything like, “this upcoming yr let’s work on becoming financially stable so we can do xyz by x amount of yrs.

It just seems like, he’s going w they flow w no plan…and that doesn’t make me feel secure in our relationship when you can’t even tell me how you feel abt me

I learned that he’s such a worrier. And it’s…frustrating.

It’s frustrating to me bc, I notice it. And all I try and do is ease his anxieties and make things easier for him. But whenever I ask, he always says it’s nothing or he’s fine. When little does he know…I can see it all over him.

It’s the body language,your mannerism, the low and soft speaking, it’s the activity trying to avoid eye contact in public, it’s every time we go out you walk BEHIND me; or you don’t even wanna go into the store and you’d send me instead.

It’s giving social anxiety. But it’s confusing bc he talk abt this dream and fantasy of being surrounded but a bunch of ppl…and you’re ALREADY having difficulties w being in public spaces.

You hate going to malls, you don’t wanna go to any stores and would rather drive around for 10mins wasting gas bc you only wanna shop at a store that has self checkout bc you don’t wanna be around ppl…it makes you uncomfortable. WHICH IS OK…BUT, it’s bleeding into MY life

It’s making me think abt the type of person I like and dislike…and if I’m gonna be w a guy, I literally want shit to flow, be natural, and we don’t look awkward. Like it feels like I’m forcing you outside to do activities you don’t wanna do. And that’s an issue for me.

But then idk if it’s bc he has adhd that he’s awkward. And if that’s the case, I’m learning something abt myself…I don’t think I can date someone w a disability I guess. Not anything against ppl w a disability. I have a close sibling w a disability and a younger brother w adhd also…I also WANT to be a teacher for children w disabilities. But DATING… it’s difficult. And idk if this is something that I can, and or want to, put up w long term…or even now.

And he’s soooo into being on the internet and…not me🤷🏾‍♀️ like he literally told me that he was mad or felt some type of way w me bc I deleted my ig. And he said he seen and then started talking abt how the internet is for networking so why would I delete it?

Whole time…networking w who?? I don’t even use ig and never have…so there’s no point of me having it… plus I don’t want to see the ppl that I went to school w in middle school doing better than me…it depressing…I’m moving at a different pace and seeing I’m behind isn’t inspiring, it’s depressing.

I don’t wanna be in competition w anyone but myself. I don’t want yo compare myself to other ppl…bc I KNOW myself, and all it’s gonna do is send me into a spiral. And I’d rather avoid that, by moving in THE REAL WORLD, and not the fabricated vision on the internet…sorry I don’t wanna be like everyone else by posting…it gives desperate and attention seeking…and that’s too close to begging for me🤷🏾‍♀️

Like I just want him to start thinking and moving realistically, start taking accountability, and actually put in the work to do and be better instead of just talking abt it and apologizing for the lack…but he would rather just come up excuses instead of just fixing it.

Fixing it is humiliating…and I get that. Bc that means you made a mistake…publicly…and you have to fix it…publicly…and it’s nerve wrecking and everybody’s watching and judging and you don’t wanna fuck up. But it’s not just YOU, it’s EVERYBODY.

Everybody’s looking at each other to see what they’re doing and if it’s works so they can do it too w/o the mistake.

I wish he understood that and knew that. But he hates the world and everyone and is always on guard…but at the same time very self centered and think ppl are out to get him or spying on his work so they can steal it and say it’s there’s…which is crazy to me bc I’m trying to figure out what it is that ppl wanna steal from you that YOU put them on to…delusional.

[la-principessa-nuova]

ok, i think i need to just make a hard rule not to buy anything with printed/painted/whatever art on it online unless I’m sure who the artist is and that it’s not stolen.

i had this moment late one night while very tired where i just sort of forgot about all potential ethical concerns and was thinking purely about build quality, and i was like, “hey, i could get some cheap halloween decorations online and it doesn’t matter that they’re terrible quality because it’s just a cheesy halloween decorations to be viewed from a distance”.

and then while i was buying them i saw some t shirts and i was like, “that’s a funny picture/phrase, i want that.” and then when stuff started arriving a few days later i had several thoughts:

first of all, why did i buy half of this? i was in some sort of state where i just wasn’t thinking past “that’s funny” or “that would fit in this room” and i just would not with my full brain capacity choose to buy those things and do not want to hang them or wear them

i forgot that these cheap things aren’t just poor quality, they’re also often stolen art, and since last time i bought anything like this, it’s upgraded from stolen art to stolen art with more steps, A.K.A. AI generated garbage that looks awful up close even though it passed as not AI when looking at a little thumbnail on my phone.

i also forgot that like a lot of this could be made in unethical conditions, and i don’t know what the situation is with any of this stuff

also i forgot that they take low res images and just print them way too big so it’s not just flimsy and fragile, it also just looks awful.

So I need a hard rule because i apparently can’t trust the part of my brain that normally thinks of these things and stops me buying them to be on when making these decisions apparently.

It’s just so weird, like it’s almost like if I got drunk or high because it was all just so out of character and without thought but like I was just maybe a little more tired than normal, not even like sleep deprived like I have been at times in the past.

Mostly posting this to hold myself accountable by not just quietly ignoring it, but also in case anyone else would benefit from hearing this.

One of the really bad AI ones was on a really comfy shirt so I used nail polish remover to take off the heavy, ugly print and now it’s just a gray shirt (there’s still some left over stuff but if it doesn’t come off over time sleeping in it I’ll finish the job. i just didn’t want to waste more nail polish remover and my arm was tired).

There were also some where I’m pretty sure they just straight up sent me the wrong thing bc i would never order that but idk… whatever.

My plan is to just wear the other shirts around the house until the prints wear down and become unrecognizable and then maybe remove what’s left later on and have some solid colored t shirts.

And the 3d decorations are fine, just low quality things to put out for halloween like i wanted (maybe better quality than i expected even), but the wooden sign with an AI generated print, I’m thinking I’ll just paint over and make my own sign?

Trying not to waste this stuff but it’s not exactly worth my time shipping it back.

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REBLOG, I WAS PACKING TO MOVE 🙂‍↕️ always these r my comments on my first AND SECOND read through because im actually obsessed with them ⬇️

also the two songs i've been playing on repeat for this fic is everytime by ariana grande and y.d.l.r by tory lanez. take from that as u will 😌

Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.

i cannot tell u how giggly i am rn

God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 

i love this so MUCH SO SO SO MUCH

You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.

i unfortunately do not know what a slapshot is

You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 

YOU TOOK MY IDEA AHHHH 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.

ohmygodohmygodohmygodddd

Bang!In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.

As he FUCKING SHOULD I AM LITERALLY ON THE EDGE OF MY SEATTT

That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 

choose me love me fuck me (who said that)

Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."

When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.

his jealousy is RADIATING and i’m eating all of it up

“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"

sometimes yes pls prove how obsessed u r w me

“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.

my favorite part of hate sex when they r LIARS

Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”

HES SUCH A DICK

His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."

OH I FUCKING LOVE HERRR

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.

HE DOESNT EVEN LET HER ANSWER why is this so hotttt

Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”

i’m so quiet bc i’m so into this 🫣🫣🫣🫣

“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”

ONE FUCKING CHANCE

He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.

he’s INSATIABLE

“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”

YKW FUCK U I WILL

He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."

so u give me earth-shattering smut and emotional angst? screw u

💌 i am absolutely enamored by the way u wrote their tension, how rafe fucking banged against the plexiglass and DARES her ohmygod i melted in a fucking puddle. ur smut was absolutely hot scorning riveting AND I WAS SO SURPRISED BY THIS MANS STAMINA LIKE CAN WE CATCH A BREATHE ugh ☺️💘 u did my req so much justice n gave me sm inspo i must write now

ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????

someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)

warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...

The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.

Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.

“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.

Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.

“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.

Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.

Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.

And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.

Rafe.

Of course, he looked good.

God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 

He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.

He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.

You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.

You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 

His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.

“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”

Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.

The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did

Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.

You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward. 

“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.

You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.

You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—

Bang!

In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.

He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.

Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?

That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 

And you hated that you still kind of liked it.

Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.

You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.

He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.

The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout. 

Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.

When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.

You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.

But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.

You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.

After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?

The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.

But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.

"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"

You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.

The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.

And then he smirked.

It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.

“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.

You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.

Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.

The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.

When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.

“Ready to head out?” he asked.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.

And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.

You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.

And then you saw him. Of course, you did.

Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.

You hated how your heart skipped.

Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.

"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.

You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”

As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.

"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"

You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."

But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."

Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.

Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."

Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.

"Plans, huh?"

Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?

“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”

He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”

You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.

“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.

He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.

You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”

“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”

But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go. 

“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.

Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.

“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.

He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door. 

“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.

You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.

Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.

He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall. 

“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”

“That was an accident.”

“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"

Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.

“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.

“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.” 

He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.

“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.

Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.

“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.

His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.

“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.

Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”

Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

“Don’t—”

But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.

And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans. 

This was so wrong, on so many levels. 

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.

Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”

You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.

“Oh, you will.”

And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.

You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.

His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.

His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.

You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.

But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.

When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.

Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.

There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.

"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.

You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.

“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.

Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."

His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.

You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.

How much you wanted him.

“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.

“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”

You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.

“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.

“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”

You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.

Always.

“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.

Maybe not for a while.

And Rafe knew it.

His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that. 

“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”

You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.

He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.

“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”

Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.

Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.

 You hated how much you needed this. 

“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.

You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”

Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”

It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.

You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.

His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched. 

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"

Sonofabitch.

“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.

You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.

He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”

“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”

He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.

But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.

Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.

Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air. 

There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.

And you hated how good it felt.

“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. 

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”

You couldn’t.

The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.

“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.

The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you. 

“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.

Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”

You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.

You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.

Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.

“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.

He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.

You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”

“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”

"Like hell," you spat back.

He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.

 “You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”

Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.

The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.

His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”

He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”

You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.

“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”

And you did.

Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.

But he wasn’t done.

He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.

He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”

And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

And God, you couldn’t.

His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.

“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”

You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.

“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”

You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”

You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.

“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.

His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”

And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.

Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.

The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in. 

What the fuck had you done?

You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.

“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.

He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”

You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”

Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.

He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.

“Good luck finding your date.”

Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.

You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.

He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”

His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”

You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”

His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.

“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”

Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.” 

Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.

But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.

He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”

You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.

“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”

It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.

Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.

“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.

His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."

"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."

Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.

“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”

"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.

It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.

Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you." 

That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.

But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”

“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.

But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.

"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”

His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"

"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."

You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.

Because you both knew he wouldn’t.

He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in. 

He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter fifteen - domestic affairs

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

word count: 7.9k

warnings: explicit content minors dni (mxf intercourse) swearing, mentions of death, torture, all the canon typical violence bc how else do i explain it. shit is fucked 

a/n: i had a mind blank writing the smut which is surprising considering im a whore??? like you would think i know that. that’s why this took so long. but wow guys pls forgive me for how long this one is, i make it better bc i didn’t want to blue ball u any longer. or myself. or reader. or frank tbh. i really enjoyed writing this chapter tho!! there’s so many lil tie ins with reader and franks thoughts and i just brrrrr.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I thought I’d heard her name before.” You stare up at the building, giant blue letters screaming ‘New York Bulletin’ above the entrance. “She was the one who wrote that article I read. About the Punisher.”

You remember reading that article, and how it made you feel sick and guilty and all the things you never knew you could feel about Frank Castle. It was also convincing as hell, which is exactly what you were going to need if you were going to successfully pin the murder of the Colonel on the Gnucci’s. 

“Like I said, its a long story. Just - let me do the talking, okay?” You roll your eyes and put your sunglasses back on, trying to hide the black eye forming on your face from two nights ago. Waking up in the back of the car, Frank’s arms hugging you tight to him, you were silently hoping to get the chance to pay him back for your last night at the garage. 

It was tiny and impractical, the back seat already squished, but you would make it work for a chance to taste him like he did to you. By the time you had completely come to your senses, though, he was already driving, leaving you in the backseat with a kiss on the forehead. And now you were here, attempting to control yourself as you walked into the building of his not ex-girlfriend. 

You could hardly think of anything else since then. The way he held you down, hands touching parts of you that shouldn’t have felt so good but just did because it was him. The memory of the sounds he made, buried between your thighs, how he told you how good you were, how long he would spend doing just that…

The ding of the elevator broke your thoughts, and Frank’s arm brushed against you as you both stepped inside. He had his hood pulled over his head, knowing he would be recognised here if anyone looked at him for more then three seconds.

Alone in the lift, you stepped closer to him instinctively, and his arm wrapped around your back. The touch awakens you, reminds you of the power he has in those hands, and how he used that to make you feel more alive than you ever had before. He must feel you stiffen up, or jolt or something, because he uses his other hand to make you look up at him, head tilting when his finger hooks under your chin.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” You roll your eyes. “You don’t have to come up. If that’s what your worried about.”

“I want to come.” The whirring sound of the elevator echoes around you, and Frank drops his arms away as two people enter the small space. Backing him into the corner, you turn around, using your body to cover him as much as possible. If there’s one thing you knew, it was how to hide your face. “Do you not want me to come?”

“When did I say that?” His eyes go over your shoulder, looking at the two people now cramping you both together.

“Why do you answer every one of my questions with a question? It’s annoying.”

“So do you.” The door opens, and Franks voice stays that low, gravelly tone that has your mind drifting to places it really shouldn’t be right now. The people behind you leave, and you don’t step back even though you know you have room. You see his hand move in your peripheral vision, and then feel it on your waist, pulling you closer.

“If you want to do this on your own, work out your shit with her, I get it.” The last thing you want is to shove yourself somewhere you aren’t wanted. “Promise I won’t go all Hannibal Lecter on you.”

“I don’t wanna do anything without you.” Every time Frank says something like that, something soft and sweet, he looks down, or hides his face so he can’t see your reaction. Almost like he’s scared of watching the confession hit and crumble off you, like he’s shot an arrow in the wrong direction and he’s just waiting for it to miss its mark.

It never does.

The ding of the elevator arriving at the floor makes Frank release you, and he brings his hands to your shoulders and spins you around, directing you out the door to the right before you can say anything else.

“Keep me covered. Her office is around the corner.” He talks like nothings happened, and all the people rushing around slowly makes your brain swim back to normal thoughts. Right. Karen Page. The not-ex. The body you just left in the woods. Normal thoughts. 

He tugs you over again, keeping you to the side, and a man delivering mail smiles kindly at you before squeezing past with his bag. The gesture would of made you stop if Frank wasn’t driving your body behind you.

“Up here. Lock the door behind you. Let me talk first.” You nod slightly and stop in front of a door, the name on it right in front of your eye level. Quickly, you open the door and shove Frank in first, then slip in behind and lock it.

The woman is on the phone, and Frank says nothing as he stands in the middle of the room, pulling his hood down. If she heard you enter, she hadn’t said anything, still talking into the phone like no one was listening.

“No, I don’t want to wait for him to get released! The media will be all over it by then, and I need his statement to be unbi- Jesus Christ!” She drops the phone when she turns around, hand reaching for her bag. Frank starts to raise his hands, you still standing at the door, but before she recognises him she’s already aiming the small gun at his head, eyes wide with confusion.

“Hey! Hey. It’s just me.” You were wrong. She does recognise him before she draws the gun, but holds it there anyways. He still has his hands raised, and you resist the urge to step in between him and the woman, who you can now get a good look at.

She was gorgeous, that’s the first thing you notice. That easy kind of pretty, blonde hair going well past her shoulders, clothes clean and fitted, blue eyes hard and trained on the man in front of her. Her finger isn’t on the trigger, but she holds it there anyways.

“What the hell are you doing!?” She yells, keeping her spot behind the desk. Keeping distance between her and you. Smart, too, then, although you already knew that from reading the article.

“I - we need your help. I would of called but…”

“You didn’t think I would answer .” She finishes, and he nods.

“Yeah.” She starts to drop the gun, and then her eyes flick to you, and she just moves the aim. “She’s with me.”

Frank steps between you and Karen.

“What do- You scared the shit out of me, Frank. Where have you been?” At his words, and seeing the look on his face, she drops the gun with a sigh.

“It’s a long story. It’s why we’re here.” Frank steps back to the side, and it feels like your feet are cemented to the floor.

“We?” Karen says, looking at you.

“Yeah.” At first you think she might be analysing you, but then you remember who she is, and what she does, and her face softens when she sees your arms.

“Well, at least your making friends.” She sighs again and runs her hands through her hair, clearly frustrated. A trait shared among Franks few friends. ��You said you were done with this. Where have you been, Frank?”

“All over. I had business out of town.” Her jaw tightens at the mention of it, and you make a mental note not to push the whole Punisher article with her. Not right now, at least, although you did have a lot of questions, ones that you didn’t think you could look Frank in the eyes and ask. “I’d been tracking the Gnucci’s-“

“The crime family?” She sinks into her chair, shaking her head as he nods.

“I’ve been on ‘em for months. Madani called once we crossed over, and I’ve been cutting them down ever since. This is…” He turns to you and says your name, and finally your legs work because your walking over to stand next to him, eyes trained on the floor. “She’s… tied up in all of this. The Gnuccis, New America. All of it is connected.”

“What about the murders?” Ever the reporter, she nearly squints as she runs her eyes over the two of you, who probably look like a mess. “You have anything to do with that? Dozens of mob guys and low life’s dropping dead in the past three months? I had to put my job on the line for them not to print an article titled ‘The Return of The Punisher.’ Those people lost their heads, Frank. What were you think-“

“It wasn’t him.” You look up, catching the slightly guilty look on Franks face at Karen’s accusations. “It was me.”

Her grip tightens on the hilt of the gun still in her hand.

“You’re the assassin? The one who’s been ripping peoples heads off all over New York?”

“One and only.” If she was scared, to her credit she didn’t show it a lot, just in the slight shake of her hand with how hard she was holding the gun. “It’s complicated. The Gnucci family targeted my fathers research, needed it to built human weapons. They killed him for it, and used it on me.”

The air leaves your lungs when you say it, but you know it was needed. She looks at the two of you then, two broken people who have a little too much in common to be falling together on accident. Two people, created by those in power, used only for another’s agenda, who had finally had enough and broke free. Two people who had lost everything, and somehow found each other.

“They used me. Since I was fourteen, after they perfected my fathers work, I’ve been killing for them. Three years ago they locked me in a cell underground and let me rot. Three months ago, The Colonel broke me out.”

“The leader of New America. Why would he risk his life to get you out?”

“He didn’t risk anything. They are working together. It was part of some elaborate plot to get me to trust Bobby again. He’s planning some take over now his father is dead, and he needs me on his side. He has my brother.” You feel selfish. So, so selfish because you don’t think you have thought of your brother in the last day. It used to be all you obsessed over. Now, your brain was jammed with other things, even if you tried to keep them out. Frank spoke next.

“They are coming after her. And me. The Gnuccis are a force of their own, but New America is travelling on thin ice.” He steps forward, satisfied she isn’t going to shoot him now. “We need your help.”

Her eyes were still on you, clearly processing all the information you’d thrown at her. She doesn’t look rattled, really, just annoyed, or maybe disappointed. She looks at Frank again, and your sure you were right. She’s disappointed.

“I thought that was it for you, Frank.” She sighed, putting the gun back in her bag. “After Billy - I can’t believe Dinah called you back in.”

“She didn’t call me back in. I was already there. These guys are using kids, Karen. She was fourteen, and look what they did to her. What they’re doing to her brother. You think I can just let that shit go?” You look down, unsure of where you fit into this conversation now you’ve been used as an argument.

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” She stands from the chair, and looks to you before moving around the table.

“Is that a yes?” He starts to relax a little, taking a step back so he’s right next to you instead of in front.

“You know me. Soft spot for on the run, wanted criminals. What is it you need, exactly?” She looks at you now, and it takes you a moment before you realise she’s actually talking to you.

“Well, we…um— when we found out where New America where hiding out, we broke into their hold. They were keeping people down there-“

“Your brother?” She asks softly, and there’s a look in her eye that makes you feel like she knows how you’re feeling.

“I thought, maybe. But he wasn’t there. Still, there was people we needed to get out, and we found the Colonel.” She nods, looking to Frank as he takes over.

“We should of killed him there.” The comment was unnecessary, and it makes Karen grip the table a little tighter. Not afraid, more pissed off.

“But we didn’t. We took him with us, because I thought he might have more information. We knew he was working with the Gnuccis, and I didn’t really have any other ideas, so we…” As much as you want to trust this woman, you’ve already admitted to being the infamous assassin, so maybe telling her you tortured and executed a man less than twenty four hours ago and left his body in the woods wasn’t the best place to start. “We got what we could, but all he could tell us was his men are just as angry at the Gnuccis as we are.”

“After we killed him—“

“Hold on. The Colonel is dead?” Her eyes go wide and she starts writing something on the notepad on her desk. “Jesus. Okay, what else.”

“After we killed him, we realised that we could kill two birds with one stone. New America will come after us if they find out we killed their leader, but if they think Bobby executed him for losing her—“ He looks over to you and you nod. “Then they’ll go straight to the source. We figure two rival gangs going at each other’s throats will give us enough of a distraction to get her brother out, and they’ll kill each other in the process.”

“How does the FBI play into all this?” Clicking her pen, she keeps writing.

“Well, the agent Frank called - Dinah Madani - she told me she’d keep my brother safe, keep him from falling back into the wrong hands. She’s also not having me shot and killed on the spot, so I guess I owe her for that.”

“The FBI has a hit out on you?”

“I’ve killed hundreds of people all over the country. I want my brother safe, and I need to be alive to do that.” She nods, and you notice she doesn’t write that part down. Out of solidarity for you or for the agent risking her career, you don’t know. “We take down Bobby and get my brother out, she sends us any information she finds, takes the credit and makes it offical. My brother gets a life and home that he deserves when this is all over.”

Frank was staring right through you, body angled towards you. It was the same way he looked at you after your first conversation with Madani, when he yelled at you for exchanging your freedom for your brothers safety. You would sell a lot more to garuntee it, you just hoped he’d forgive you for it.

“Where does The Bulletin come in?” Karen asks, now looking between you and Frank as you have a weird silent showdown.

“We need to make the New America boys believe Bobby killed the Colonel. We figure you write and article, get the word out. Your paper gets first grab at his death, and we get half an army off our backs.” Frank manages to tear his eyes away at some point during the conversation, now looking at Karen’s notebook. “I know I owe you bout a million favours, but I-“

“I’ll help you. Of course I will.” Her eyes were still going between you and Frank as she slips behind the desk, sitting back down and scribbling a few notes. “I’m gonna need something, though. An angle I can pitch, a photo, anything I can form a story off.”

“We have a photo of the body.” Frank slides the phone over, and Karen’s face screws up a bit. Not so much as to hint she hasn’t seen anything like it before, though.

“That’ll do.” She starts writing something else, and then pulls open her laptop. “Would it be a bad time to ask how you’re doing?” Frank breathes out a light laugh, the way his shoulder brushes your arm as he does lighting a little fire under you.

“I’m doing good. Better.” He drops his head, looking at the floor. “You still seein’ that lawyer? Murdock or something?”

“I see him. Whether I’m seeing him or not… that’s a really good question. One I don’t have the answer to.” You try to hold back a laugh. Damn, could you relate. Franks head snaps up to look at you, and he squints, analysing your move. “Okay, I can work with this. I’ll run the story as soon as I’ve put it together.”

“How long does it take?”

“I can get it out for tomorrows front page. This whole gang war has been headlines for the past few weeks. Thanks to you, I guess.” Swallowing, you look out the window of her office, anything to not see that emotion of empathy across her face. It’s not one you deserve. “You sticking around this time?”

“If this all goes how I need it to.” Frank says. You had only spoken once about what happens after this is all over, but the conversation with Karen reminds you that there might not be much of a choice for you now. Madani might not kill you, but she wouldn’t let you walk free.

“If you need a place to crash…” She goes into a drawer and pulls out an old looking key. “It’s an apartment downtown. I rented it, but I’m staying at Matts place house-sitting until he’s back in town. There’s food, hot water, clothes you can wear.” The last part she aims at you, smiling almost sadly.

“We can’t stay.” Frank strains.

“I know, but no one’s using it. Just for the night, even, to clean yourselves up. You look like shit.” Both of you laugh, knowing it’s true. You feel like shit, too. “Take the key. You can stay there tonight, and when the article goes up you can decide what you want to do.”

“Karen-“

“Just take it.” She shoves her hand at him, and he obeys, taking the key from her open hand. You search for a spark in the room, a longing between them that you’re getting in between. Frank had an entire life before you. Sometimes it feels like he lived two before you ever walked through his door.

“Thank you.” You say, and she smiles at you a little, nodding.

“The story will be on the front page tomorrow. You know the office number. Call and ask for me, I’ll answer - if you need anything while your here.” Frank shakes his head.

“You’re still all heart, huh?” Frank steps back, sliding the key into his pocket.

“New York hasn’t frozen me out yet.” You follow suit, walking towards the door. “Wait.”

“Yeah?” Frank says, and you can feel his hand ghosting the small of your back. Whatever Karen was going to say doesn’t come out, and instead just looks at the two of you. How Frank angles himself between you and everyone in a room, no matter how much he trusts them. How you, someone who’s supposed to be a lethal killing machine, have to look at the floor when Frank smiles at you because you beam back too much and want to hide it. It’s like she’s looking right through you.

“Nothing. Just stay safe, okay?” He nods. “It’s good to see you. And meet you.” The last part she aims at you, smiling a little. “Let me know when this is all over. That your both safe.”

“You stay safe too, Karen. It’s gonna be hell out there real soon.” Frank says. With that, you flick the lock on the door and block Franks silhouette, heading towards the elevator.

Frank doesn’t say anything this time when you get in, just the sound of the elevator slowly taking you down the bottom of the building. No one gets in on any of the floors, and you really wish they would because at least it would break up the silence.

Karen was nice. Really nice. That wasn’t the problem. It was now, how he was acting all weird and frozen up after seeing her that had you second guessing yourself. He puts his hand on you back and nudges you out the doors as soon as they open, heading straight to the drivers side door of the car.

You didn’t know how long you had slept, but it was clearly most of the working day because a lot of people were leaving the building with you, making it easier to hide. The sun was setting a bright orange colour across the city, and you made sure to admire it for a second before getting in.

He pulls off the curb, and you don’t question why he already knows where her place is. Actually, you do, but not out loud. The last thing you want it to come off jealous, like you did the first time. Instead, you just let him drive, and lean forward to flick through the radio stations.

‘She’s Always a Woman’ by Billy Joel drifts through the cars old speakers, and you turn it up a little to drown out Franks glaring silence. His knuckles where nearly going white on the steering wheel. You tried to rack your brain for any other thing he could be thinking about other than the encounter you just had with Karen. Was it because she mentioned wanting to see Frank after all this? And you. She wanted to make sure you were safe.

The word didn’t mean a whole lot to you before, but something you’ve never felt with anyone was safe. Until Frank. The thought drifted into your mind, how you would keep that safety if Madani came true to her word and couldn’t perform a miracle to keep you out of prison. Or worse. How would you hold onto that safety, that person, when that was the future you had signed up for? Either way, if this was all you would get, you wouldn’t waste another second of it, no matter how much insecurity was scratching at your throat.

You cross your legs and stare out the window, hoping once you get to the apartment Frank will either tell you he’s having some mid life crisis or rip your clothes off and fuck you. Either way, at least you would know what he’s thinking.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank grips the steering wheel so hard the old scars on his knuckles threaten to re-open. He turns the familiar route, one he drove consistently the past few years, and knows he’s only got about five more minutes before you reach the doorstep.

Seeing Karen stirred up a whole lot. It had been months, since he’d done shit like this, and seeing her disappointment, hearing the things she said about him, about you... he wondered what the hell you were still doing with him.

Frank knew you weren’t planning to stick around after, but he couldn’t help where his brain went when he pictured what happens next. You said you wanted peace- for your brother, for yourself. You never asked to be in any of this. Frank had put himself here, but you never had a choice. When Karen had said she thought he would be done with all this... it hit him a little harder than he thought, because he knew he never would be. 

Was that something you could live with? The whole Madani situation he would get a cap on, he was already figuring some shit out for you, but if you were given the choice, one of the only ones you’d ever had, would you choose a life like this? A life with someone like him? would you choose him? Nothing about this would be peaceful, he doesn’t know if a day would ever come that he would just be able to forget about all the horrible shit happening on his front doorstep, in his backyard, and not do anything about it. It wasn’t the way he was built and it was the reason that people like Karen were always disappointed. 

He never saw that look in you, though.

What he did see, was the way you looked through him. Like you saw all his fucked up shit, all his faults and still got in the car with him. You had seen the worst of him first, and it wasn’t enough to scare you off. He wasn’t sure anything would be now, and he didn’t know whether to kiss you for it or tell you how stupid it is.

Either way, nothing that happened in that room managed to dull the way he’d been feeling about you since this morning. Waking up next to you felt normal. Right. Having you that close, even in the cramped space of the back seat, wrapped under his arm with your head on his chest - there wasn’t a feeling he could name for it.

Turning another corner, he pulls up on the street next to Karens old apartment building. He’s been inside before, but never really stayed longer than a few minutes, so he’s not sure what to expect, but it could be a complete shit hole and he’d be grateful for a real bed. To sleep, sure, cause his back was killing him from last night in the car, but having you here, alone, with a whole night ahead of him… The ignition flicked off, but he was still gripping the steering wheel tight.

It was these kinds of thoughts that were why he’s kept his mouth shut the entire drive over here. All the things Karen spoke about, the way her eyes went between you two, obviously picking up on whatever the hell you two had going on, it was all a blaring reminder of how bad he wanted to take that something further. How he wanted to get back to twenty four hours ago when he had you moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. 

“Frank?” Your voice cuts the silence, and Frank sucks in a sharp breath, his brain foggy with memories. “You good?”

“Yeah. Apartments up there.” He gets out of the car, going into the back to grab the couple of bags of clothes and weapons the two of you had together. At first all your stuff was in one and his in the other, the third exclusively for weapons, and while that one remained the same, he can’t count the amount of shirts he’s pulled out of his bag that belonged to you, or how many times he’s seen you wake up in one of his. Not that he was complaining - he’s even slipped one or two in what used to be your bag on purpose, just to see you in his shit.

You trailed behind him, and while his mind was filled of everything he wanted to do to you once you were finally alone, you were quiet and keeping your distance. He got up the few flights of stairs hearing you coming behind him, further away than he’d like. You might have put some distance between Bobby’s men for now, but New America still based in New York, and as far as they knew, were still working for Bobby. He slides the key into the door, and holds it open until your inside. He locks it behind you, and drops the bags to put a chair in front of the door for good measure.

“Paranoid?” Your voice comes from behind him, sarcastic tone clearly not knocked out of you by his silence.

“You aren’t?” He says, jamming the back of the door between the handle. He sees you roll your eyes as you wander around the house. It’s different to the way you looked around his safe house. This is more calculated, like how you analysed Micros garage, and he hates that he can’t take you somewhere you feel safe. 

“Where’s the bedroom?” You ask half heartedly, running your hands over the stacks of books on the shelf. Frank shrugs and turns back to the door, trying to figure out another way to jam the lock shut. When he turns, though, he hears you scoff. Keeping his eyes on the task, he takes the bait. “What?”

“You don’t know?” He realises the game your playing, but honestly he wants to see how you are gonna ask him what you really want to ask.

“No.” He hears you scoff again, and open a door before closing it quickly, and opening another one.

“You really aren’t going to just tell me?”

“Why would I know?” 

“See? You do it all the time.”

“Do what?” He finally locks the chair into place and shakes it a couple times, making sure its secure.

“Answer me with a question. It’s fine. I’ll find it.” He stands up, and turns to face you. He can see your holding something back, and he’s positive he knows what it is.

“I’ve been gone for a year, you know that?” Taking a step forward, he dips his head slightly to catch your eye line. “Just cause I know the way here-”

“You don’t have to tell me, okay? I don’t really want to know.” You run a hand through your hair, and Frank takes another step, closing the distance between you. He looks down at you, hands gently wrapping around your waist. He breathes in deeply, the first time he feels like he can since he let go of you this morning.

“Look at me.” He says into the top of your hair. When your eyes look up, he can see a thousand thoughts whirling behind them, and he wants to take every single one of them away so you are only thinking of him, because all he can think about is you. He leans down and kisses you lightly— leaning forward so his head touches yours. 

“I’m not jealous.” You say, face as neutral as possible, but when he smiles and breathes out a laugh, you lose your composure and smile with him. With you this close, he can feel how warm you are under his jumper, and he pulls you closer, pressing you harder against him. You smile a bit wider, and he would of dropped to his knees right then and there if you hadn’t started talking. “I’m still getting used to you being this nice to me, you know.”

“I was always nice.” 

“Sure.” Your arms wrap around his neck, and he relaxes a little, knowing you aren’t going to shove him off. He would be as patient as you needed him to be, wait for the rest of his life as long as you kept him around. “You okay after today?”

“’Course I am. Why?”

“You said it’d been two years. It’s a lot. Seeing someone after that long, especially someone you were with-”

“How many times are you going to bring this up?” He says softly and leans down, kissing you a little deeper this time, pulling everything but him out from under you.

“I just-”

“I don’t want to talk about anyone else.” Frank kept his voice lower, softer, and the change made you pull him tighter, and this time you kissed him.

It’s like you took the wind out of him, everything spiralling, nearly losing his footing when you kissed him. He felt you lean into him and that was enough, both of his arms dropping down under your thighs and picking you up. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and the feeling of being surrounded by you had Frank kissing you harder, deeper.

He took one step to balance himself and ended up with you against the wall, but the surface behind you pushed you closer together, and all he could hear was more, more, more-

“Frank.” You sighed his name into his mouth, and the last of his self restraint melted when your hand brushed into his hair, tugging a little when he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Missed this, sweetheart.” He feels your body shiver with the name, and he remembers how much you liked it the last time. Everything kicks into gear now, and his mouth is moving down your neck trying to taste as much of you as he can.

The hand not tugging on his hair comes to the side of his face, guiding him back to your mouth. His eyes open just for a second, and he sees a glimpse of the look on your face. A small smile and hazy eyes— he doesn’t think he’s seen a prettier sight. Seeing you smile sent something electric straight into his chest. Pushing off the wall, he doesn’t take his mouth off you as he walks to the nearest door. Opening it, you pull back. Frank has no clue what door he’s opened, he’s just hoping it has a flat surface big enough for both of you.

“Are you seriously taking me into another bathroom?” The echo of your voice in the room makes him open his eyes, seeing tiles and a glimpse of the shower.

“I said I didn’t know where it was.” Your head turns and he draws your attention back to him, kissing under your jaw and letting his teeth drag lightly along your skin. “You want to stop?”

“No, I just don’t really want to be on a bed or any other surface where you and someone else...” There was only a few things that could of dragged him away from your skin at that moment, and that was one of them. 

“We didn’t.” 

“You didn’t here, or...”

“We didn’t. It wasn’t like that.” He makes sure to lean back so he can look you in the eye. In truth, the last thing he wants to be doing right now is thinking of anyone but you, but if he needed to draw you a god damn diagram, he would. “I told you that.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop talking, baby.” He kisses you again and theres no hesitation, no more questions as your mouth opens and you fit him perfectly. He walks with you still in his arms, hands fitting over your ass now that he has the fucking chance to.

He wouldn’t admit how many times he’s though about touching you. Not just since that night in the garage either. Walking through this apartment trying to find the bedroom, he realises it’s probably been a lot longer than he’d let himself believe, and when he finally finds the room, mattress completely bare, he decides he can’t wait any longer.

He lays you down, not letting go of you and coming down on top, and his hands trail up your sides. He takes your shirt up with the move, needing to feel every inch of soft skin he feels like he’s been craving for a lifetime. He leans down, his tongue gliding lightly above your belly button. He feels you gasp, and the sound is music to his fucking ears. 

You throw your shirt over your head and begin to tug on his, the neckline bunched in your hands, but he doesn’t have the patience to take his mouth off you right now. Instead, he goes slow, mapping your skin and working his way up to what might be one of his favourite parts of your body. You are biting your bottom lip so hard he thinks you might draw blood, and he kisses you, replacing your lips with his own. Right now, he wants you to feel nothing but him and how good he’s about to make you feel. 

One of his hands holds your waist as he slides himself in between your open legs, and the way you roll your hips as soon as he’s close enough has him almost seeing stars. He swallows every little moan and gasp you make when he pushes himself against you, both of you still wearing jeans, and he wonders if he’s got enough pull to tear through denim just to speed up the fucking process.

“Not c—” You cut yourself off when you gasp, a sweet high pitch sound when Frank practically grinds against you. “Not close enough.”

“You want me to do somethin’ about that, sweetheart?” Your arms cross over behind his neck and pull him closer, and he has to push back against the mattress to keep from slamming his face into yours. Sometimes he forgets how strong you are, and clearly, so do you. 

“Don’t be a tease.” You whine and Frank buries his face into your neck, knowing you can feel his smile. The last thing he was going to do was make you work for it. There would be plenty of time for that— but right now he was already working at the button on your jeans. 

Yanking the tight fabric down your legs, there wasn’t an inch of you he wanted unmarked by him. He remembers the first night, where he had you pinned underneath him, and how loud you were moaning as he left marks along your neck so everyone would know he was there. He started at your thighs, working his way up to your hips, the same ones his hands were wrapped around holding you still. 

The image of his hands on your skin, his thumbs hooked under the thin fabric of your underwear, a slight purple colour already coming through where he’d laid the most attention was one he knew he was going to see every-time he closed his eyes. He didn’t spend nearly as long taking off his pants, shoving them off the bed and crawling back up to your mouth. 

“S’ pretty.” When you arch your back this time, he takes the chance to slide an arm underneath, hauling you up closer to him. Your arms just hold him tighter, letting him move you where he wants. His other hand slips under the seam of your underwear, and hearing the sigh of relief that comes out of your mouth is enough to have him almost painfully hard. 

“Oh— god.” He knows exactly what you want, how you need him. His thumb finds that sweet spot on your clit, dragging slow circles while his middle finger easily slides into you matching his rhythm. 

“Feels good, baby?” The way your hands were fisted in his hair and lightly scratching on his back told him his answer, but he loved to hear you try and form a response, a few pitiful whimpers and moans making him go faster, draw more out of you. 

He kept you there for a while, watching all that anger and sarcasm melt away just for him- speechless, because of him. He sped up just to watch your eyes flutter open when you said his name, and then slowed down and felt your nails dig harder into his bare shoulders as some kind of silent protest, one your mouth wasn’t able to form the words for. 

It was stirring something in him he didn’t know he had, he didn’t even know if he had a name for it. Seeing you soft and pliant under him was something so unlike you that it had his cock straining in his boxers, but the way you were saying his name had his heart beating a mile a minute.

“Fuck— yes. Please go faster.” You moan, and he hums against your skin, feeling how tight every part of you was getting. He knew you were close. He wouldn’t deny you a god damn thing right now, and he went faster at your command, watching as your eyes nearly rolled back into your head.

“That’s it. Atta girl.” You choke out his name when you reach your peak, and Frank can’t keep himself quiet, groaning at how tight you get when you cum. Everything about is warm and soft and so fucking wet— he doesn’t stop, doesn’t think he can just yet, just needs to feel you a little longer.

Your nails dig harder into his back, yank on his hair, and your whimpers get more persistent no matter how hard he’s kissing you.

“Fr—ank.” You hiccup and he pulls his hand away, kissing your forehead, knowing it’s getting just this side of too much. He was so fucking selfish with you, practically addicted to your sound, your taste. “Fuck.”

“Sorry, baby.” He feels your smile before he sees it, and your arms drop from around his neck, fingers still shaking as you pull at the band of his boxers in an attempt to pull them down. “It’s okay-“

“Stop being such a fucking gentleman.” He swears he nearly growls out some kind of response, seeing just a hint of your normal fight sink back into your lust filled eyes.

The sight has him kicking off his boxers and ripping your underpants away, losing them both somewhere in the room. Franks hand wraps gently around your face, cupping your jaw forcing you to look at him. With a little pressure your mouth drops open slightly, and he kisses you sweetly. The look on his face must change, because your eyes get a little wide looking up at him before you add

“Please.”

“Such good manners.” He teases and you squint at him. You get that look that you usually do before you roll your eyes at him, he knows because it’s one of his favourites. You don’t get the chance, though, because it’s replaced by his new favourite, the face you make when he slides his cock inside of you.

He was holding himself together, using everything he had to control himself, but feeling you around him— so tight and warm and fucking soft—

“Ohh— fuck.” He groaned as he slide back out, almost leaving you but not quite, and then driving back. He pauses, seeing how you shake a little underneath him, and he kisses you again and again, pulling you back to him. “Sweetheart. You okay?”

“Feels so fucking good, Frank.” Christ— the way you say his fucking name. Nothing will feel as good as you do, sound as good as that. He pulls out again and watches as you go all soft on him again, the arm under your back pulling you closer.

You roll your hips in time with him, both of you working in perfect sync. You were almost whining, a constant string of pretty sounds mixing with his low moans he was trying to keep quiet. His hand dropped from your face to hold your hip, his own picking up speed just a little. He was going to draw this out, but what he lacked in speed he made up for in pure fucking power, hearing you gasp every time he managed to brush against the right spot, chasing it every thrust.

“Frank— oh my god.” You turn your head, giving Frank a glimpse of the marks he’d left just moments before, and his tongue drags along the sensitive skin.

“So beautiful, baby. So good to me.” You turn back, biting his bottom lip softly.

“Frank I want-“

“What? Tell me. It’s yours.”

“I wanna— god. I wanna stay.” Your eyes squeeze shut and you kiss him hard. He nearly fucking cums hearing you say that, and you do, your second orgasm making you shiver as he holds you tight. He speeds up, hips slamming into you; determined.

“Yeah?” He gives you a moment to nod, watching as you never fully come down and he keeps you on that edge; forces you to stay with him. He can feel that sweet burn building in his chest, and he wants to take you with him. “You can fuckin’ stay baby. Keep you with me, yeah?”

“Mhmm. Wanna—“

“Whatever you want. Just stay with me.” He didn’t realise how much he wanted— no, needed you to say that until now.

“Okay. Okay.”

“Doin’ so fuckin’ good, baby. God—“ He was going to lose his mind if he waited one more second, but then he feels it. Feels you, and his vision nearly goes white.

“Fuck Fra—nk.” You choke on your words and he feels you tighten around him, the wet sounds spurring him to his own release. When you whimper his name— a sound so pathetic and sweet he knows he’s gone, and pulls out before spilling all over your stomach and chest, arm still angling you towards him.

He loses himself for a minute, drifting off into somewhere where it’s just you and him and none of this shit matters. Somewhere in his mind where he can keep himself buried inside of you all day, every day, hear the way you say ‘Frank’ like it’s something to be thankful for, like it’s a blessing your giving him, a gift.

Neither of you say anything, Frank just leans down, forehead pressed to yours, heaving a few deep breaths when his mouth isn’t on you. He can’t get enough of the taste, tongue licking into your mouth lazily as his free hand runs soothing lines up and down your side.

At some point he leans down and picks up your shirt, using it to gently clean you up. You swat at his hands when he runs it over your inner thighs, both of you laughing slightly as he leans down to kiss you better. Throwing your shirt away, he takes his own and slides it over your head, covering you up as best he can before finally letting his arms give out, wrapping you in his arms.

“Cold.” You say after a second, cause as much as he has you curled into him your legs are bare and there’s no fucking blankets on this bed. Reluctantly he pulls himself away from you, yanking open a couple of drawers until he finds a giant blanket. He throws it over before sliding in next to you.

It’s this feeling he feels most relaxed— something like peaceful. Your breathing gets slower and your face buries into his chest, legs tangling together not caring how close either of you get now. His hand holds the back of your head, kissing your nose, and your eyes open.

“Hi.” You whisper, moving impossibly closer.

“Warm now?” You nod. He can tell your tired, so he ticks you back into his chest. You sigh, and he thinks that might be it. He wouldn’t hold you to anything you said— but there was no doubt in his mind that hearing you say you wanted to stay with him made every other plan for after seem dark and plain sad.

I want to stay, you said.

You didn’t say how long, or if you meant in New York, or even just in the fucking USA, but he meant what he said. He wants you to stay with him after this. After all this, he wants to be near you, with you, whatever that means. His arm tightens around you at the thought, and just before he hears you fall asleep, you whisper four words that nearly make Frank Castle cry.

“I want to stay.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[kaidenya]

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

[barnesafterglow]

let me hear you scream

summary: halloween night has more in store for you and bucky than you ever thought possible

pairing: bucky x f!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: very mild sexual content (mentions of fwb, reader straddling bucky), lots of language, reference to horror movies, mention of a knife/stabbing, a little spooky, modern au i guess? not really mentioned but no one is an avenger so

a/n: sup i wrote this back in september bc i made a moodboard and got inspired. i think i reread this maybe once so sorry for any mistakes anyways here it is happy halloween xoxo

“What the hell was that?” You were more annoyed than scared at the strange noises coming from downstairs when no one was supposed to be home, but who could blame you? There you were, shirtless, straddling Bucky in his bed, before you were rudely interrupted by what sounded like heavy footsteps in the living room.

You and Bucky had been sneaking around for a couple of months now, not sure if it was friends with benefits or something more. The both of you figured that until that was figured out, there was no need to involve anyone else. Not only were you roommates, but you also shared the house with two of your best friends, Steve and Sam, and it would just be overall uncomfortable for everyone if things went south.

Of course, they weren’t stupid. They had almost caught you on more than one occasion, and it was getting harder to explain the smell of sex across the house when no one but the four of you were home. But for as smart as they were, you and Bucky were even better at playing dumb, and the game continued.

It was Halloween night, and the two of you had managed to convince the boys, as well as your other friends, to go out to a party even though you weren’t feeling well and just absolutely had to have Bucky there to take care of you.

So that was how you ended up here, on top of Bucky in nothing more than your underwear, with what was quite possibly the most annoyed expression he had ever seen on you - I guess that’s what happens when you get between a girl and her man trying to have sex.

You were tempted to brush it off and ran your hands down his side, leaning down to - vrrrr.

“God fucking damnit,” you huffed, picking up your ringing phone. Frown lines formed between your eyes as you saw the caller ID: Anonymous. Were you seriously about to get a prank called on Halloween? “I swear to god, James, if this is your kid sister and her stupid friends I’m giving you blue balls for a week.” You let out a quiet giggle and the plea formed across his face, before your expression hardened again. “I don’t give a fuck who you are and what you want but -”

“Wanna play a game?” The voice was unrecognizable - distorted and low - and your annoyance only grew.

“Doing this shit on Halloween is so cliche, dude. If you’re gonna play Scream, at least be original and do it tomorrow.” With that, you hung up, throwing your phone back onto the nightstand. Your lips had barely brushed Bucky’s before it went off again. He, fully prepared to keep going, was nipping at your collarbone while you reached over to answer the phone again. But you quickly sat up straight, a wave of fear coursing through your body, at the words coming from your phone’s speaker.

“Listen to me you little bitch, or you won’t live to see the end of the night.” Something told you this wasn’t just a prank anymore, and you put it on speaker for Bucky to hear. “Now, be a good whore and climb off your boytoy’s lap. You’re gonna need to be a little more decent if you want to survive.”

Body shaking uncontrollably, you managed to roll off of Bucky, handing him his sweatpants and pulling his t-shirt over your head. You looked down at your phone to see the call had ended, and there was a brief feeling of relief before you heard a crash downstairs.

Too scared, or maybe too stupid, to put pants on, you bolted out of the room towards the stairs, Bucky following close behind you. Both of you were too desperate to find the source that you didn’t notice both of your phones had been left behind.

Downstairs, the patio door was open, the cool autumn air seeping into the house, and the lamp just the door was knocked over, shards from the lightbulb scattering across the floor. Just past the threshold, you could see a faint glow coming from the dining room. You grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him along to investigate. Rounding the corner, you could see an array of candles lit across the table, in the shape of a pentagram. As if that wasn’t enough to shock you to the core, a kitchen knife was plunged into the cheap wood, pinning down a crudely written note.

Good luck.

At that moment, the front door slammed, and you turned around in time to see a black hooded figure run across the house and back out through the still open patio door. You yelped, stumbling backwards, and nearly knocked every candle onto the floor. Bucky managed to grab you by the elbow and steady you, before leaning over and blowing out the candles. Plunged into nearly complete darkness, you held onto each other and stumbled towards the only source of light - a lamp in the living room that you distinctly remember turning off after everyone had gone out the door for the party.

The yellow glow illuminated the room just enough for you to see muddy footprints trailing from one end of the house to the other. You stood speechless, before Bucky quietly pointed out a second set of footprints, these coming from the back door and up the rickety wooden steps. Hearing the top step creak, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into the coat closet, following you as you sunk down to your knees, both of you trembling. You held onto each other, gripping tighter as each step became louder. Once they seemed to be coming up on the closet, Bucky took a risk, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I can’t die without telling you how I feel,” his whisper is barely audible, but enough to reach your ears and hopefully no one else’s. “I love you, Y/N, so goddamn much. Always have and always will, and if we get out of this I will spend every day for the rest of our lives trying to prove it to you.”

You could see he was on the verge of tears, both of love and fear, and the footsteps were deafeningly loud now, but you couldn’t let this be the end without telling him you felt the exact same way.

“James Barnes, you are it for me, till the end of the line. I’ll love you forever.” The heavy thuds stopped just outside the closet door, a shadow looming underneath the crack on the door, and you lurched forward to kiss him in an attempt to convey all the other words you may never get to say.

You broke apart and the door opened, Bucky pushing you behind as best he could, before the door opened and revealed…

“Sam?” you both yelled as your roommate revealed himself, glad in a black hooded robe and boots. Looking up at him with a mix of confusion, fear, and anger, he broke out into a full blown laughing fit, stopping only when the lights came on to reveal your other friends behind Sam in the living room.

Bucky pulled you to your feet, before taking an angry step towards Steve - who had made his way to stand beside Sam - fully ready to throw a punch. Taking a few paces back, he was still laughing as he tried to explain to you all.

“Happy Halloween guys!” Steve sputtered out, his laughter was finally dying down, but a shit-eating grin still split across his face. “Aw, come on, guys, weren’t you scared?”

“Scared?” your exclamation was so high it was nearly a screech. “Are you fucking kidding me? Steven Rogers I swear to god I will kill you before you even have a chance to -”

“Enough!” Wanda, of all people, cut you off. “We were so sick of you guys sneaking around, as if it was totally obvious you were banging. And were even more sick of these dumbasses whining about it all the time.” A smirk took over her face as she gestured at a now scowling Sam and Steve.

“We just wanted you all to admit your feelings, and this was just a fun way to do it - Halloween and all, ya know?” Natasha chimed in. “We didn’t mean to scare you - I mean we did but we didn’t - but the point is you all can be all lovey dovey in front of everyone instead of trying to quietly fuck even when we’re all downstairs. Because Y/N, for the love of god, you are not quiet at all.”

Your face was now heated, but you couldn’t tell if it was more from embarrassment or anger, or the adoring look on Bucky’s face.

That seemed to be good enough for your friends, who dumped out bags of candy onto the kitchen island - 20 somethings can still go trick-or-treating, right? - and started to dig in. It was your and Bucky’s turn to exchange amused glances, waiting for everyone to begin eating their chosen candy before he spoke up.

“Hey assholes, just so you know, we fucked on that counter earlier.” Your laughter was almost as loud as the collective groans and one y’all are freaky nasty that couldn’t have come from anyone other than Sam. However, your delight quickly turned to yelps as they started throwing candy, pelting the both of you even as Bucky pulled you up the stairs, as lovesick as ever.

Maybe love at first fright was real.

taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@mrsbarnesinmyimagination @ducky2104 @demongirl1917 @writing-for-marvel @zbutx @asgardwinter @thesneakylittleminx @winth0rsoldier @carrotfantasimp @cutelittletwistedhorror @enchantedbarnes @tlcwrites @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @subwaysurf45 @intrepidacious @ambrosiase @riverevelations @nexusnyx @buckydaddy @babycap @aquariusbarnes @gray-reads @starbuckie @lovinggbarnes @igotnoname4thisblog @signofthebarnes @cupidsbarnes @lostyx @silentkiller2374 @blossomedfloweroflove @red42985 @bennibabie @thesneakylittleminx @theokatz @fyeahatised @smokeinherperfume @miyadarling @awaywithtime @fandoms-writings @povlvr @sweetdreamsbuck @clementinesjourney

if your user is scored i couldn't tag you!

[workofheart]

levi ackerman relationship hcs

some modern headcanons, nsfw below the cut <3 it’s just levi brainrot at this point

definitely the type to follow (stalk) your spotify and check in to see what you’re listening to. if he has the time, he might even listen along and wonder what you’re doing. if it’s a particularly sad song or series of songs, he’ll know to send you a text to let you know he’s thinking of you

on that note, he also stalks your pinterest boards just to see what you’re into these days and (idk abt yall but i save pins of mens fashion) if he sees a cute outfit in your saves that fits his style, he might even try it out. reason being (though he’ll never admit to it) he loooves that kind of attention from you - when he looks particularly good and you can’t stop staring, it might just pull a smirk out of him

once you’re living together, he lowkey acts like a dad. might scold you for not closing doors, not turning off lights, all the like. he means well, honestly

however, doesn’t mind tidying up for you. folds your laundry, clears your plate, takes your jacket off your shoulders when you get home, just because it’s his way of showing he cares. definitely an acts of service kind of guy

really good at cooking! he likes spending days in the kitchen with you while he whips something up or tries something new and you just sit at the counter and talk to him. it’s a good way to catch up as your adult lives can sometimes get busy

if you fall asleep with earbuds still in, he’ll gently take them out for you before you go to bed <3 he’ll also plug your phone in for you if you forgot

occasionally reads aloud to you, especially if you’re having trouble sleeping. we all know he’s not much of a talker, but his voice is so relaxing and he doesn’t mind doing it if he knows it will help

the chillest, coolest boyfriend ever. he’s so mature, honest, and trusting, and you don’t have to worry about those high school dramatics when you’re dating him. when he chooses to date you, he’s serious about it - definitely not the type to just date for fun. he won’t hesitate to deny advances from other people, doesn’t care about what you wear, just fully devoted to you and wouldn’t even think about anyone else

i also think that with that dating in general, you would probably start out as acquaintances or maybe even friends. he needs to have a lot of trust in the person he chooses to date, so only after he’s known you a long time and you’ve made enough of an impact on his life for him to make it hard to let you go would he date you

speaking of, didn’t isayama say that levi would stutter around his crush? i can imagine him stumbling over his words, trying to cover it up with a cough, reaching to scratch his neck all sheepish, just getting all shy. even once you’re far past that stage of your relationship, sometimes you’re so upfront and bold, he can’t help himself :( you just make him so weak

braids your hair for you when you’re too tired to do it yourself - you’ll sit in front of him and his fingers are so gentle with your hair 🥺 he got the hang of it so quickly and has the dexterity to not tangle your hair and it always comes out so nice and clean, even if you’re just going to sleep in them

i peg him as a biiiig cuddler. not a lot of pda besides holding your hand, wrapping his arms around your waist, letting you hook your arm around his, etc., but in private he loves when he can just lay his head on your lap or chest bc then you can play with his hair, which relaxes him

he’s really intuitive and in tune with your emotions. if you’re feeling down, he’ll know, and he’ll also know if you need space or if you need comfort, both of which he is more than willing to oblige

he’s there to bring you cups of tea, maybe some cut up strawberries on the days you’re tired and want to sleep. will definitely tuck you in, and will also lay down with you for a bit if you ask

his go to way of getting you to talk is going on drives. 1) levi is a really good driver and 2) he’ll usually come and find you wherever you may be around the apartment, say something along the lines of, “i’m going on a drive, you wanna come?” or might just give you a look and jingle the keys around his fingers

it might take a little while of rolling through the backroads aimlessly for you to speak up, but when you do, he’s all ears. lets you talk through your thoughts, might prompt you further, offers advice if you ask for it. it’s also how you sort through relationship misunderstandings - they are rare, but all relationships have them, so it would be silly to present your relationship without them

i think that when levi is upset on the other hand, he’ll usually come to you for comfort. he isn’t necessarily looking for advice, but just to calm down and rest. some form of physical touch is good, like cuddling or napping, preferably where he can put his head on your chest so you can play with his hair

i think levi is the type of person to get a lot of intrusive thoughts or memories that he doesn’t really want to remember when they pop up, so having you as a distraction to hold him and let him know it’s alright is something he really appreciates

nsfw below the cut (18+)

unpopular opinion: levi is NOT the hard dom people tag him as. rather, i think of levi as a service top, so while he may be carrying out more of the work, you’re the one in control. getting you off gets him off 100%

considering he is usually very dominant outside the bedroom, he likes the opportunity to let you take control and direct him instead - it takes a weight off his shoulders

slow and smooth kisser. might put up a fake fight for dominance just to make it more fun, but eventually take the lead and kiss him dizzy

hearing your moans makes him unbelievably hard. the sounds you make go straight to his dick

and so: godly at giving head. he might edge you but it’s not to tease or as punishment, he just takes his time because he knows it feels better for you, and at the end of the day he wants you to feel as good as possible. your pleasure is his main priority.

knows how to use his fingers, knows how to use his tongue. knows what you like and picks up on it very quickly. i don’t think he’s that experienced but he’s got a good natural sense of what feels good - do not doubt him, he knows where the clit is 

he’s got a very wide range of capabilities for this, too. he can go slow and sensual on a calm sunday morning or absolutely dive in and ravage your pussy for more intense sessions - this is the one time he doesn’t mind making a mess 

making you cum is good for his self esteem/confidence lmfaooo he lives to see your flushed cheeks and heaving chest and be told he’s doing well. when you scratch his hair or cup his cheek as a quick thank you, his heart swells and his dick twitches

please kiss his neck, he will absolutely melt for you. especially the next day when he looks in the mirror and notices the little love bites you left him... he runs his fingers over them lightly and his eyelids get a little droopy as he remembers everything, will definitely seek you out for another round

tbh i don’t think he’s that kinky. he likes what he likes, i can’t imagine him comfortably degrading you or hitting you or anything like that. realistically, levi wouldn’t be having sex with someone he’s not in a committed relationship with. he wants it to be special and personal and therefore probably would not enjoy treating you poorly even if just for the sake of sex. if anything, he wants it the other way around bc he could easily be a bit of a masochist in bed

loves when you restrain him and ride the shit out of him, either by tying his hands to the bed or just pinning his arms down. likes when you “use” him to get off. put your hands around his neck and he’s putty in your hands

really loves when you tell him to cum - your voice is music to his hears and to hear it out loud and as a command has him doing exactly that. he’s not one to disobey orders lol. 

his brows furrow, his eyes squeeze shut, mouth falls open and lets out a low moan... jesus christ 

one more deep kiss, a quick clean up, and then he’s passing out with his head on your chest. after-sex sleep is some of the best rest he’s ever gotten