#i gotta find somewhere else to work

[tinytrashkid]

i hate not having any energy! i really need to make sure i'm eating enough 'cause that's why i can't do shit...too bad i don't get paid until thursday :/

[possiblyfunny]

Hey, look guys, more art-

HOPE.

I’ve been wanting to draw him like this ever since I first saw him smile, but my will to draw eluded me until now! This started off as a doodle, so, please excuse the messiness. I drew this to de-stress.

“Fire” Red belongs to @creatively-cosmic. They have a blog called @themissingnumbers, which is really good! Go check it out if you want to see more.

[Sketch + Colored Version below the cut!]

[lobinhasolitaria]

came to the conclusion I need to stop getting high and it's been like 2 weeks and I'm already feeling better.

I feel motivated to paint but I haven't done that in over 2 years. there's so much I need to dooooo

[letoasai]

The Youngest Ancient

An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 

We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 

Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 

~~

They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 

Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 

“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 

Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 

“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 

“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 

“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 

“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”

“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 

“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 

Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 

“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.

Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 

“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 

“Forty minutes then.” 

~

The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 

When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 

He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 

“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.

“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 

“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 

“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.

Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 

“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 

“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 

“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”

Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 

Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 

No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 

“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 

He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 

He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 

The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 

When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 

“Phantom…?” 

Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 

“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖�� ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”

To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 

“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 

Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 

“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 

“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 

~

In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 

Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 

Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”

“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 

“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 

“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 

“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 

Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”

Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 

“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 

“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 

“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 

It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 

Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 

“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 

“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 

“Will he?” The Flash stared. 

Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 

He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 

This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 

Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 

Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. “You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 

Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 

The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 

Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 

“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 

Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 

Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 

Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 

“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 

Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 

Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 

“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 

“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 

“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 

No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 

“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 

“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 

“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 

“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 

“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 

“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 

“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 

“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 

Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 

The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 

“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 

~~

I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 

I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 

Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^

Master List

[seventh-district]

.

[clairomatt]

fresh love ݁ .˚★⋆

in which, chris gets turned on by fem!reader wearing his brand.

warnings, smut smut smut. pinv. pet names. smut with minimal plot. fluff if u squint.

inspired by this fic by @chrissturnsfav

chris and nate had been playing the new fortnite season for longer than you had hoped… it had been almost 2 hours of them screaming back and forth through discord after losing each game. your boyfriend was determined to win a round, but you were determined to get his attention.

“chris? come to bed?” you spoke, walking towards his desk kissing the top of his head gently.

“one more game baby…” he said, looking up at you with those doe eyes which made it impossible to be mad at him.

you nodded at him, a little annoyed but willing to stay up and wait for him.

“yo nate, gotta piss. one sec.” you heard him say, watching him walk into the bathroom.

as chris got up, you noticed a cardboard box with the words ‘FRESH LOVE’ labelled on the front sitting under his desk. you remembered chris telling you that the sample shirts for his brand had come in today, that must be them.

you rummaged through the box, eventually finding your size and pulling it over your head. walking to your shared closet, you picked out a black lacy thong that you thought shouldn’t even be counted as underwear. even though it was uncomfortable, you couldn’t deny you that you looked damn good in it. you knew for a fact chris thought so too.

quickly checking yourself out in the mirror, you shoved the rest of the shirts back in the box. chris walked out of the bathroom, adjusting his gray sweatpants and and heading back towards his desk.

he glanced in your direction, immediately stopping in his tracks.

“yo- what… ” was all he managed to say, his eyes travelling down to your thighs, scanning your body quickly. his jaw slacking when he noticed you were wearing his clothing brand, and pretty much nothing else.

chris rubbed his jaw, looking you up and down in disbelief.

“you like?” you said, with a tiny smile on your face. feeling a little embarrassed now that he was shamelessly checking you out like this.

“do i like? baby… fuck.” he replied, running his hands through his hair, mouth practically watering.

“chris, bruh c’mon” nate spoke, through the speakers of chris’s headphones.

“yeah uhh. i’ll hit you later nate.. gotta go,” chris said, not taking his eyes off of you.

he smirked at you as his hand grabbed your ass, the other firmly gripping your waist. the makeout was anything but gentle, mouths working together feverishly. you felt his hands everywhere, gripping onto your ass, grabbing your jaw and slowly finding their way up your shirt.

chris let out a low groan against you as you tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck. breaking away from the heated kiss, chris tugged at the bottom of your shirt, asking for permission to lift it up. you nodded quickly, going to pull the fresh love shirt over your head before chris grabbed your wrist.

“keepin’ this on..” he says, scrunching the shirt above your tits and beginning to kiss dark bruises into your skin, decorating your chest with purple spots. he pulled away, grinning, as he admired his work.

you were already out of breath, heart beating out of your chest when chris whispered, “bed, baby?”

chris on top of you would always be your favourite sight. the way his eyes never left yours, the way his hair fell slightly over his face, how his breath hitched when your fingernails dragged down his back.

he leaned over you, nudging your legs open with his knee. his hand traveled down your body, stopping where the thin material of the thong sat on your hip. he hooked his finger under the string of your underwear, tapping your leg asking you to lift your hips so he could pull the black lace down…disregarding it somewhere on his bedroom floor.

“there ya’ go.. my pretty girl” chris whispered slowly, his slight boston accent peeking out as it always did during sex.

his hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear, “so beautiful” he said, thumbing your cheek slowly, looking straight into your eyes.

“..chris…” you spoke as chris shifted his weight on the mattress, his boner becoming incredibly noticeable as it grazed against your stomach. “need you now.”

he pulled the grey sweats down, revealing a pair of cream colored skims underwear. you were practically foaming at the mouth at the sight of him.

you tugged at the boxers, freeing his dick. you watched his jaw clench as he pumped himself up and down before kissing you on the forehead and lining up with your entrance.

as he slowly pushed himself into you, you couldn’t help but sharply inhale at the stretch, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. you had forgotten how the burn felt, you had forgotten how big he was.

“..shit. good girl… almost there..” chris says in your ear through heavy breathing and almost moans.

it was gentle at first, chris taking his time with every roll of his hips, enjoying every tiny noise that slipped from your lips. until he couldn’t be gentle anymore.

noises of skin slapping and heaving breathing filled the room. chris was snapping his hips fast into you whilst you were tugging at his curls, saying his name over and over again like a prayer. chris let out a guttural groan when you involuntarily clenched around him, “…fuck. that’s’it…” he said, lifting your leg up to rest on his shoulder.

chris looked down to where your bodies connected, surprised to see your stomach bulging with every thrust of his hips. “baby…fuck. look at that huh?…s’perfect f’me..” he panted in-between moans, pressing down gently on the bulge that had formed.

you knew that you were already close, but this had pushed you over the edge. he was so deep inside of you, you could feel him everywhere, and with the added pressure of his hand on your stomach, it was all too much. “chris… shit. ‘gonna cum..fuck fuck fuck.” you responded.

this only made chris go faster… and harder. he was kissing your neck, whispering “let go baby..come on” into your ears, and that just about did it.

you were cumming, hard. you wrapped your legs around his waist, hands gripping his shoulders tight. & then, he was right there with you.

you gasped as he pulled out of you quickly, rolling over to his side of the bed. chris extended his arm out to you, patting the mattress next to him. you shuffled closer, fitting right under his arm laying your head on his chest. you were both panting as if you had just run a marathon, and you definitely felt like you had.

“…holy shit.” chris said, looking down at you with a goofy smile on his face.

AN : first ever fic / smut !!! long time sturniolo tumblr lurker, but finally posting something

thank u for reading🤍 -em

[hoshifighting]

lyla….. i gotta know what car sex with svt would be like 🫦

seungcheol likes it on the backseat, your legs splayed across the leather, windows fogged up. he grinds into you, seats squeaking underneath. he’s relentless, fucking you hard against the door, his hands gripping your thighs like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. the music’s soft in the background, but all you can hear is his groaning, breathless curses tumbling from his lips. he loves it when you moan loud, one hand tangled in your hair as he takes you to the edge over and over again. his size? barely fits in the car, but he makes it work, leaning in close to whisper filthy things in your ear between thrusts.

jeonghan parks somewhere dark, secluded, with the windows cracked just enough for the cool air to sneak in so his blood pressure doesn't fall. or has you bent over the hood of the car, your hands gripping the cold metal as he kisses down your spine. the way he fucks you is almost leisurely, like he’s got all the time in the world, but it drives you insane. he chuckles every time you whimper his name, pushing back into him for more. he’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear after, like he didn’t just ruin you on the side of the road.

joshua likes it on the front seat, hands firm as he pulls you into his lap, your knees digging into the dashboard while you ride him. the windows are rolled down, and the night air cools the heat between you. he’s not wild with his movements, but god, the way he looks at you while you move together is everything. his lips are constantly on you—your neck, your chest, your lips—soft whispers of your name mingled with his breathy moans.

junhui’s energy is through the roof, and it’s no different when things get nasty in the car. you’re in the backseat, straddling him while the music’s blasting through the speakers. the windows are cracked open, enough for the outside world to hear the way he moans your name, unashamed, unapologetic. he’s got you bouncing on his lap, his hands gripping your waist, guiding your movements like he’s choreographing your entire night. there’s no slowing down with him—it’s fast, intense, almost overwhelming, but exactly what you crave. he loves watching the way your face twists with pleasure, his lips tugging into a grin every time you get louder.

hoshi takes over the second you suggest anything risky. he’s the kind who wants to fuck you outside the car, no matter how reckless it is. he’ll have you pinned up against the side of the car, your legs wrapped around his waist while his hips snap forward relentlessly. the music's thumping from inside the car, but the only thing you’re focused on is the way he fills you up, him constantly whispering dirty things in your ear, loving the way your breath catches when he moves just right. the sounds he makes are loud and needy, almost like he can’t get enough. and honestly, he never can.

wonwoo’s the quiet type, but in the car, he’s something else. you’re in the backseat, seats reclined just enough for him to slide between your legs. the windows up, keeping everything intimate, the heat trapped inside the car. he’s not one to moan loudly, but the little sounds he makes are everything—soft, breathy grunts that makes u wet. his hand finds its way to your throat, not rough, just enough pressure to make you feel grounded, connected. you can feel the tension in his body, the way he tries to hold back but eventually lets go, his forehead pressed against yours.

woozi doesn’t do anything halfway. both of you in the front seat, the chair reclined as far back as it can go, but it’s still a tight fit. he’s hovering over you, thrusting into you at a brutal pace, his breath hot against your neck. the music’s off—he doesn’t need it—preferring the sound of your moans, the way your body responds to him. he’s not much of a talker during sex, but the way his grip tightens on your hips, the way he buries his face in your neck, says everything. his stamina is unreal, and he won’t stop until he’s sure you’re completely wrecked.

minghao + sex + you + front seat, straddling him as he sits back, his hands lazily resting on your hips. he loves watching the way you react, afraid that someone can see you through the window, but also too horny to care. the windows are cracked, and there’s soft music playing, but the real soundtrack is the way he breathes out your name every time you roll your hips just right. he’s quiet, focused, but the tension in his body says everything—he’s holding back, making sure you come undone before he even thinks about finishing.

mingyu and car sex? it’s wild, messy, and absolutely addictive. the backseat suffers on fitting with his size, but he makes it work. windows are fogged up, the car rocking slightly with the force of his thrusts. the way he moans is loud, unfiltered, mixing with your cries, you can be as loud as you want, you know the car 'walls' are going to muffle it. he would often eat you out inside the car too, before an event, before a family dinner.

seokmin is the type of funny that makes you laugh and then, on the next second, you are naked for him, laughing between gasps as he tickles your sides before pulling you into his lap. he’s vocal—really vocal—moaning and laughing all at once, telling you how good you feel, how much he loves being with you. he’s got this playful energy, even when he’s fucking you hard, every time you gasp, he grins wider, loving the way you react to him. he’ll pull you in for sloppy kisses, his breath mixing with yours as the car shakes with the force of your movements. when you both finish, he’s still giggling, pulling you close and telling you how much fun that was, like it wasn’t the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced.

seungkwan likes it because it ends up being messier than in bed. you get sweat faster, you get tired faster, the lungs burn, and the windows start to drip from being humid. he would hit his head on the car's roof zillions times, would laugh, but keep fucking you, when you're on top, he put a hand on the top of your head to prevent you to hit your head as the other circles your clit.

vernon loves it the most. love how the sex smells way faster inside the car. would have a playlist just for car sex, and would draw on the foggy windows of your car after. the quietness of the car insides, makes your moans more prominent so he can appreciate it.

chan would love to finger you while he drives. the radio is turned off, so he can hear the wetness of your pussy enveloping his fingers, the silence in the car makes him focus on it. when you two decided to make a stop, he want to fuck you outside, bent over the closed trunk leaving a stamp of your tits on it.

[mytheoristavenue]

Do you think you could do somewhere like where the straw hats + doflamingo are really tired after a hard day and reader offers their lap for them to lay on? And they end up falling asleep? Sorry if it's to much to ask, or if you've done something similar 😅 😭

I originally wasn't going to do this, because I don't really write for OP anymore, but sure! Also, Doflamingo will not be included, as I am not up to that point in the anime yet!

OP Strawhats lying on your lap!

Summary: After a long day, you offer to let them rest in your lap!

Warnings: Innuendo on some, mostly fluff, short

Monkey D. Luffy:

"Ugh, I'm so tired!" The captain groaned, wandering below deck after hours of standing very still at the help of the ship. Nami had condemned him to boredom after finding out how much money he blew on food the past week while in port and he had finally finished serving his punishment.

"You look it," You mused with a small smile. You rolled your eyes as he approached you, dramatically swaying. "Oh, c'mere then, before you fall over."

Luffy cheered, collapsing to the floor, head snuggly tucked in your lap, sighing happily. "You're the best..." He purred, already on the verge of drifting off.

Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro had been crabby all day, he was just tired and it was entirely his own fault. That meant it was everyone else's problem. He was currently ranting at Sanji for something silly when you whistled at him and called him over. "I'm not a damn dog! You can't just-" You patted your thigh invitingly. His shoulders slumped and he came over and planted his cheek against your thigh, not caring for who saw.

"You better stop staying up all night working out." You scolded lightly, raking your fingers through his short hair.

"Yeah, yeah..."

Nami:

"They're all just so dumb!" She groaned, pacing the floors. "You have no idea how hard it is being a secretary to these men." You simply nodded and listened, knowing better than to interject during a rant. "Like seriously, you don't wanna know how much Luffy spent on food while we were ported. And I don't mean for all of us, just for himself!"

Eventually, her pacing turned to standing, then sitting beside you, and finally, she found herself lying between your legs, face snuggled into your inner thigh, anger ebbing in exchange for drowsiness.

"Feel better?" You asked softly, petting her tangerine hair gently.

"I guess..."

Usopp:

You entered his workshop, shoulders slumping at the sight. He was slumped over the workbench again, cheek squished to the wooden surface. You rolled your eyes and approached him, nudging him lightly. "Usopp," You whispered so as not to startle him, though ultimately, your caution was for not.

He jumped, scrambling up into a straight sitting position. "(Y-Y/N)! Y-You can't just scare me like that!" You simply snickered and pulled him up and toward the small bed in the corner. "No, I gotta finish this project-"

"I'll let you lay in my lap." You offered with a knowing smile.

"O-Okay!" He smiled sheepishly, following you, collapsing in your lap without hesitation. The moment he stopped shifting, he began to snore again.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

You had watched him bustle around the kitchen all day, refusing any help offered to him. In the back of your mind, you knew, when Sanji crashed, he'd crash hard. As predicted, after the dinner dishes were finished, he made a beeline for you, hugging you tightly. "I'm so tired..." He mumbled into your ear, voice deep and groggy. "What would be the best way to charm you without exhausting any effort?"

"Consider me charmed." You scoffed playfully, pulling him over to the couch in the lounge before patting your thigh. The way he stared at you, you would have thought you'd just asked him to claim you right then and there. His face was red, eyes glued to your thighs. "Behave yourself." You wanted as he dropped to the floor and nuzzled between your plush thighs.

"Yes ma'am!"

Tony Tony Chopper:

It was typical of Chopper to get sleepy earlier than the rest of the crew, frequently curling up with Robin while the adults settled down to enjoy an evening activity together. This night was different only in one way.

"Ha, royal flush!" You laughed, laying your cards on the table and claiming the cash in the middle of it. You nearly yelped when you felt soft fur brush your calf. Looking down, you found the reindeer climbing up on the bench beside you and curling up in your lap.

"Awe..." You cooed on a whisper, shushing the rowdy rest. "Look at him..."

"It seems I've been replaced," Robin mused with a gentle smile. "How tragic."

Nico Robin:

It was known that on especially hard days, she would welcome you into her lap, uttering soothing words or reading silently while threading her long nails through your hair. But tonight was different. You could tell she was upset, despite her cool nature. When you'd finally convinced her to open up, you found that she was having unpleasent dreams involving her past.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" She laughed sadly, before her brows shot up in surprise as you patted your lap.

"I know I'm probably not as good at this as you are..." You muttered sheepishly. "But..."

To your delight, she laid down, face up in your lap, and allowed you to play with her hair while she read quietly to herself. "You couldn't be more wrong, this is perfect." She sighed blissfully.

Cyborg Franky:

Franky had been in an awfully sour mood lately, totally uncharacteristic of him. After witnessing him get into a small argument with Usopp over a new ship upgrade thew were collaborating on, you knew you had to have a word with him. "Franky, what's your deal lately?" You huffed, hands on your hips.

"No deal," He scoffed, turning away. "What's it to ya?"

"You're acting like Zoro when he misses a nap." Your eyes narrowed sternly. He sighed.

"I ain't been sleepin' well, okay?" He finally admitted sheepishly. You softened, smiling slightly.

"Why didn't you just say so?" You climbed up on a large crate of ale, sitting at the perfect height, patting your lap. "Come take a nap, you'll feel better."

"N-Nah, I'll be good," He shook his head, cheeks a bit pink. After a bit more convincing, he finally sat on the floor, back against the crate, and rested his head in your lap as you brushed the cyan locks from his eyes and removed his shades. "You were right, this is nice..."

Brook:

The ship was eerily quiet today and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Suddenly, it hit you. You hadn't seen or heard Brook all day long. After asking around, you found him in the lounge, staring at the fish. "Brook, you okay?" You asked softly, tilting your head into his view.

"Oh, yes, my dear. Just in thought." He sighed, empty sockets seemingly tracking the tropical fish as they wandered the glass enclosure. "The only I get, the younger my old friends seem." He admitted quietly and your eyes softened.

You weren't entirely sure how long had passed as you sat there with him, watching the fish interact with one another, or when you'd begun to lean into one another. "Brook?" You asked softly, eyes never looking away from the tank. "I can't do much to help but...would you like to lay in my lap?"

"I'd like that very much, my dear." He replied, patiently waiting for you to get into a comfortable position before laying out his lanky form on the sofa between your thighs. "This helps so much more than you know." The pair of you stayed that way for a while until you began to feel skeletal phalanges lightly digging into the meat of your legs. "You know, since you're in such a giving mood..."

"You're done." You deadpanned, pushing him away.

Jinbe:

You had never had much experience with Jinbe, having only known him for a short while, be he seemed to always know when the emotional atmosphere around him had changed. Thanks to this empathy, he noticed immediately when you'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "(Y/N)? What's the matter?" He asked, cocking a brow as you stepped below deck.

"Just in a mood..." You grumbled, coldly brushing him off. Ever patient, he simply gave you a warm smile and let you be. As the day wore on, you both found yourself winding down in the lounge. You grumpy day catching up with you, you dozed off, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Smiling fondly, Jinbe repositioned you, delicately resting your head in his lap, large webbed hand very carefully brushing the fringe from your eyes.

[jjscrybaby]

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (period, cramps, blood stains, loving bf but it should be the norm!)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Usually you’d know when you were coming to that time of the month, a day or two before you’d start to get cramps, your boobs would ache and you’d be extra grouchy, you’d be well prepared for Mother Nature to come knocking at the door. That’s probably why you were more so confused than annoyed when you woke up with a sharp pain in your stomach.

It was still dark out, you rubbed your eyes tiredly as you checked your phone for the time: 4:37am. You groaned quietly, moving to lay back down to go back to sleep when that familiar stabbing pain hit once again. You were more aware now, more conscious, and you knew exactly what that meant.

You pulled the covers back, ready to quickly go and put a pad on and get back into bed, when you spotted the dark red stain that had made its way onto the sheets. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and anxiety gnawed at your chest. You looked to your left, finding JJ sleeping soundly beside you.

JJ wasn’t a child. Deep down, you knew he would hardly flinch at the fact you’d bled all over his sheets, god knows worse has happened on that bed. But, your emotions were all out of whack and a sob ripped its way through you.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” JJ asked tiredly, instantly sitting up as if ready to attack.

“I’m sorry, Jayj,” you cried, covering your face with your hands.

“Why’re you sorry, baby? You cheat on me in your dream? It’s a’ight, ain’t real,” he soothed, arms wrapping around you as he tried to pull you back into the comfort of his arms.

“No— no,” you argued, pushing his arms off you. You let out another whine, feeling embarrassed to tell him what had happened. You wished you could just get him to leave the room so you could change the sheets and pretend nothing had happened.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he pleaded, leaving a kiss on your bare shoulder. “I can’t help if I don’t know.”

“I started my period,” you sniffled, a prominent pout on your face as your eyes shone with tears. “Got it on…” you trailed off, waving your hand towards the sheets.

He let out an ah sound, nodding. “Alright, baby. No need for the waterworks. Shit happens. Why don’t you go get cleaned up, do what you gotta do, I’ll sort the sheets out.”

“Really?” You asked croakily, looking back at him.

JJ let out a soft laugh, more like a coo, as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Yes, really. Don’t be silly, baby. You got cramps? Think there’s some meds somewhere around here.”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, your hand coming to cover your stomach.

“Go on, the quicker you get sorted the quicker you can get back into bed. Sarah’s got pads in the bathroom already, I’ll deal with everythin’ else.” With one last peck, he sent you on your way to the bathroom.

You had a quick shower, the flow was heavier than you thought and you couldn’t just get back into bed like this. You put your pyjamas back on and by the time you came back, the sheets were changed, there was a hot water bottle waiting on the bed, a glass of water and two little pills on the bedside table. Not to mention, your loving boyfriend sat up waiting for you.

“Better?” He checked as you took the pills, crawling into bed next to him. “Got you this.” He held up the hot water bottle.

“Thanks, Jay,” you whispered, a little tearfully. It wasn’t like he wasn’t always attentive when you were on your period, but something about tonight just made you feel extra lucky.

“Can thank me by getting your cute-ass back into bed with me,” he smirked, opening up his arms. “Let me know if those pills don’t work, there are other ways to get rid of cramps, y’know.”

“Mhm, rain check,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you closed your eyes. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he whispered back, hand resting on your back with the hot water bottle taking place on your stomach.

[finelinevogue]

aaron hotchner with the sidewalk rule >>>

SO TRUE!!!!! okay okay

n.b. just a small little blurb | reference to kidnapping

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau!reader

“He’s gotta be somewhere down here.”

You and Hotch were working together to find your unsub, in a surprisingly sketchy part of town.

You’d been asking loads of people if they’d seen anyone recently that matched the description of your profile, but there’d been no luck yet.

You stopped to talk to a little old, homeless, woman and Aaron waited off to the side.

“You sure you haven’t seen him, Betty?” You asked, trying to humanise her by using her name - a method you were taught in FBI training.

“No. I would remember a face as handsome as his.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Well, be careful okay? No getting into any strangers cars - even if they’re handsome.” You patted her on the shoulder before she walked slowly away.

You went over to Hotch, shaking your head in defeat.

He sighed, dipping his head down. “We’re running out of time. His kidnapping timeline suggests he’s going to do it again soon.”

“Maybe if he knows we’re in the area he won’t strike.” You suggested.

“Or, he’ll strike somewhere else.” Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s head back to Reid and Morgan. Maybe they’ve got something.”

You both started walking back down the road, you closest to the pavement edge.

It took Hotch all of five seconds to put his hands on your shoulders and move you to the side, so he was now walking on the side closest to the pavement edge.

“You scared I’m going to fall into oncoming traffic, Hotch?” You joked, still feeling the warmth of his hands on you even after he’d taken them off you.

“No i’m scared our unsub could easily snatch you away from that side.”

“And you don’t think I could handle him?”

“I think you could handle him, but I don’t think I could handle you being taken.”

Hotch kept the pace going, not allowing you to stop and think about what he’d just said to you. He said it with his usual tone of voice, making you think it wasn’t so important, so you tried not to read too much into what it meant as you met back up with Reid and Morgan.

Little did you know that was Hotch’s way of trying to drop his feelings about you in conversation.

[fawnhart]

bambi seeing drew after a bad date ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

The sound of deep bass echoed from the back of the room, a steady thrum that vibrated through the soles of her feet, but the air around bambi felt heavier than the music. Her heart was thumping in her chest, an anxious drumbeat to match the flashing lights and clinking glasses. The after-party for Loewe was in full swing, the loft space tucked somewhere above the usual chaos of New York's West Side. There were faces she didn’t recognize, smiling, laughing, effortless in their beautyy, but she stayed at the edges, as usual, silent and still.

bambi still wasn’t used to this. She still wasn’t used to the velvet ropes or the high-fashion atmosphere. She still wasn’t used to being in the same room as celebrities, to feeling like the room itself might swallow her whole if she let it. But she told herself she was here to forget. Forget the week, forget the ache. Forget how much she wished the man from her last date hadn’t left her standing there, trying to understand why he’d chosen his “friend” over her.

It wasn’t like she’d ever voiced it. It wasn’t like she would have. But the feeling of being so easily discarded?

That sat heavy with her now, sharper than the yellowish neon lights that lit up the space.

Bambi took another sip of her drink, something bubbly that tasted like nothing and everything at the same time. her eyes darted around, searching for something, anything, to distract her. That was when she saw him.

Tall. Blonde. Older..WAY older.

The kind of guy you’d expect to look like a magazine ad come to life. Drew was leaning against the bar, laughing, the low sound of it catching her off guard. His eyes were blue, the color of the summer sky on a good day. His shirt was perfectly undone at the collar, and his hair, tousled but somehow intentional, made him look even more unattainable. There was a small hoop earring in one ear, the kind of detail that shouldn’t matter but to her it did.

And standing next to drew was his friend.

Bambis chest tightened as she watched the girl, her fingers trembling around her glass. Her loose curly hair falling messily over her forehead. They were talking, laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world, while bambi was just... standing there.

it wasn’t new news to her, the friend. she had worked with drew for about a year, but only recently had she started seeing him in a different light. She wanted him, and she felt dumb to believe that he would too.

Her throat burned.

She didn’t even notice when Alexa and Taylor stepped closer, their protective stares following the line of her gaze. They were older, the kind of girlfriends who’d always had her back, always known when something was wrong, even when bambi didn’t say a word.

“What’s wrong?” Alexa’s voice was soft but sharp with concern. She’d known bambi long enough to read her like a damn book.

She couldn’t find the words. Instead, her gaze stayed locked on the her. the moment that replayed in her mind like a never-ending loop.

�� 𐦍

The date had started out fine, better than fine even. The city had been alive with possibilities, the kind of night that had the potential to turn into something great. They’d met at that little Greek restaurant on Bleecker, and bambi had tried not to overthink it. They talked about the usual stuff: work, music, movies. Drew made her laugh with his laid back jokes, and she’d felt something, that spark. For once, she wasn’t pretending to be someone else.

But as the night wore on, something shifted. His phone kept buzzing—just a quick glance at the screen, but it was enough. There was a look in his eyes, the kind of shift you couldn’t ignore. And then he’d stood up abruptly.

“‘m sorry baby, I gotta go” he’d said, his voice apologetic but not sincere, “A friend’s in town and I promised I’d meet up with her, you don’t mind, do you?.”

She’d nodded, her stomach sinking even as she smiled. “of course not, go ahead,” she said, not wanting to seem needy, not wanting to seem like she was the one who “needed” anything.

But she hadn’t seen him since. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing.

The walk back to her townhome had been a blur. She didn’t remember much of the city streets, just the cold biting at her skin, “stupid mini dress” she thought. the steady rhythm of her kitten heels clicking against the pavement, and the silence that wrapped around her. It wasn’t until she reached her door that the tears came. Silent and sharp, like something breaking inside.

‎ 𐦍

Bambi blinked, the edges of her vision starting to blur as the tears she hadn’t been able to shed in front of him finally threatened to break free. Her breath caught in her throat. Alexa’s arm looped around her shoulders, the familiar weight of it grounding her.

“You okay?” Taylor asked, her voice a little softer than usual as she pushed back a singular lock behind her ear

bambi nodded, though she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay at all. She couldn’t shake the feeling that drew had left her behind, that she was just... another girl in a long line of them.

But Alexa and Taylor weren’t having any of it. They exchanged a look, their unspoken language clear. Taylor nodded toward the door. “We’re leaving,” she said, her voice soft, but laced with disgust. “We’re not sticking around for this—their bullshit.”

And with that, they all started moving toward the exit. No more distractions, no more pretending everything was fine. The cold air of the night hit her like a shock, but it was a welcome one. They didn’t even wait for an Uber—just flagged a cab, the city lights streaking past them like a blur as they made their way to a late-night burger joint in the Village.

Bambi didn’t say much in the car, but the warmth of Alexa’s hand on hers, the sound of Taylor making some off-hand joke about a studio ghibli movie, made the ache feel a little more manageable. When they finally got home, the apartment was quiet, safe, warm and cozy. The three of them settled onto the couch with their burgers, wrapped in blankets. The sound of “Sex and the City” played softly in the background, the familiar banter of Carrie and the girls filling the space around them.

It wasn’t perfect. Nothing ever was. But as bambi leaned back into the couch, her friends beside her, she realized that she didn’t need drew to fix her. Not when she had people who loved her exactly as she was. She wasn’t invisible. Not to them.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[quarterlifekitty]

this is gonna be mean but…promethean but no ghost. just bonnie falling deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole of dick and despair. Soap’s a piece of shit and this girl’s gotta find her way to stand up to him. but i think that when she cuts things off with him he doesnt gaf.. :(

Ok so. I know this isn’t what you want but I’m a weenie but general so. In my mind reader is God’s specialest princess. If it wasn’t Ghost, someone else would’ve shoved themselves into the savior role. Like imagine König working with her for a class project, developing a massive crush, and then finding out what’s going on between her and soap? Johnny’s getting pulped. Like, he’s gonna graduate with a nose like Owen Wilson.

But I’ve been considering an even better idea, to be real.

Alumn!Price who frequently visits the frat to pick up college girls to mentor the current members. And he catches you, hugging your cardigan to yourself after being dismissed particularly insensitively by Johnny. Usually people around the house just ignore you, but here’s this kind-eyed bear of a man catching you by the shoulders and asking what’s wrong, sweetheart? You hadn’t even realized you’d started crying. He’s pulling you somewhere private, getting you a drink of water and tissues.

It’s not hard to guess, but he pulls the information from you between his dabbing a tissue at your wet cheeks. That you just feel so cheap, but you don’t think anyone will ever want you the way he does—

He grits his teeth a little when you confess, and asks exactly which of his boys it is who’s been making you feel like this.

Smash cut to him using his boot to shove Soap’s face further into your cunt, making him hum apologies against your clit as he eats you.

And you might not know it yet, but Price is planning on showing you how a man is supposed to treat a sweet, sensitive, precious thing like you, and Soap is gonna clean you up after that, too. Gym rat could use some extra protein, anyways.

[zyafics]

PLAY FAKE | 03

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.

The first 'date' is going to be at the country club.

You find it ironic that your first date, in general, is going to be a fake one. Truly, that sets up the rest of your love life. While you never had a steady boyfriend—simply because you don't have time or they couldn't stand that you didn't have time for them—you have fooled around before. You had flings. You had needs and they were met.

Now, funnily enough, so is your lack of dating experience.

You're closing Sailor early today. You hate that you had to but it was the only compromise you had with Rafe. He wanted to pick you up at your house, which you immediately rejected, and you wanted to meet him at the country club. Neither of you would settle, stubbornly, that Rafe decided it would be easier if he picked you up from work and let you get ready at Tannyhill.

As you're locking up the front, you hear a distinct voice calling out your name. Looking over your shoulder, you spot Pope and JJ approaching you, one offering a friendly wave while the blond tips his chin in greeting.

"Hey," Pope says, glancing at your locked doors. "You locking up early?"

"Yeah," you nod, dropping your keys into your bag. "I have to go somewhere."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day," JJ remarks, causing you to chuckle. You grew up with Pope and JJ, despite being a couple of years older, simply because they worked and live near you in The Cut. Pope, specifically, lives just a couple of houses down from yours—having helped you on several occasions with your siblings when you couldn't find a babysitter in time. "Does this mean you're finally getting a life?"

You roll your eyes at the blond. "I have a life."

"Sorry, let me rephrase that," he teases. "A life outside of bartending."

You cross your arms. "You don't seem to be complaining when I give you free booze."

JJ laughs, raising up both hands in surrender. "My bad. I didn't say shit."

Pope rolls his eyes, elbowing his best friend, before turning back to you. His expression is friendly. "Maybe this means you're free to attend some parties."

The idea sparks a reminder in JJ's eyes. "Oh, shit, that's right! We're about to head over to The Boneyard for a kegger. Wanna join?"

It's been a while since you've been to a Pogue party. The idea sounds appealing, but you had other priorities. "Sorry, boys, I got somewhere else I gotta be."

Pope shifts his gaze to the bag in your arms. "Yeah, what's that? Are you planning on running away?"

You chuckle softly. "Nope, not yet. I just have to get ready for an event and these are my new clothes."

JJ raises a brow, flicking his gaze down to the bag for a second. "Can we see?"

You flip the blond off and he laughs. Pope is about to add something else, when a car honks behind you. It must be Rafe. Without glancing behind, you declare that you need to head out and Pope nods, dragging his best friend off the docks with a farewell. When you reach the car parked near the back of the lot, the one that screams money, you get in.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you set the bag on your lap and buckle your seatbelt. Ready to go, but the car hasn't moved. When you turn your head, you see Rafe watching you with a slighted jaw.

"What?"

"What's that all about?" His voice is sharp.

"What?" You repeat, not understanding where the tone is coming from.

"Maybank and Heyward," his expression is hard and unreadable. "What were they talkin' to you about?"

"Nothing," you answer, shifting in your seat, but Rafe doesn't appear pleased. You sigh. "It was just about a party. They always invite me on the off-chance I'll go."

It takes him a beat before he responds.

"You party with them a lot?"

"No, that's why they invite me," you snap, getting a little agitated by the interrogation. "Can we go now? I still have to get ready."

Rafe looks like he wants to probe more, but thankfully, he didn't. He reverses the car out of the parking lot and takes you down the road to Tannyhill, while you admire the drive. You can't believe how split Outer Banks is—how the change in scenery goes from fishery and unkempt lawns to perfectly-manicured yards and a boat per house.

The ride is quiet. When he pulls up to the estate, the largest mansion on the island, you can't seem to stop the awe from flooding your vision. It truly is a sight. You've been here once, a couple of years ago, and the admiration still hasn't worn off. If anything, now older, it amplifies it.

When Rafe turns off the car, he exits from the vehicle in a swift motion. You half-expected him to play the boyfriend act and help you with your bags, but instead, he goes straight into the house. Asshole. You roll your eyes, unbuckling and following after him, meeting one step of his with twice of yours.

"Y'know, a boyfriend would’ve opened the door for me." You declare, following him up the stairs.

"Good to know," he sneers, "but I'm not paying to give you the boyfriend experience, am I?"

He cuts a look behind him to catch your expression and you flip him off, causing a smug look to lift at his face. When he reaches his bedroom door, he cracks it open for you to enter through.

Stepping inside, you noticed how clean it is. Then, you realized, of course it would be. Rafe probably has maids coming in every day to make it spotless for the crowned prince. You were just used to leaving your room a mess in the mornings that your Pogue expectations rolled over to him.

"You can use my bathroom." He points to the closed door on the other side of his room. You follow the voice to find him opening his closet, his back turned to you, searching for his own attire. Without a word, you nod, heading to the ensuite as you set your bags on the ground and unravel them on the sink counter.

You didn't own many fancy clothes. You never needed them and it wasn't affordable. However, you brought the most expensive thing you own. It was nothing in comparison to the luxuries in Rafe's closet, but it was enough. A white cocktail dress that cuts mid-thigh—it was what you wore for your high school graduation.

You put it on before you got ready, and when you did, it was tighter and shorter than you remember. You did gain some weight. You are also older. You try not to let the sentiment pass through you too much—that you're almost twenty-two but in the same place you were when you were eighteen.

You push the thoughts away.

You also push the reason for why you're here away too.

With a deep breath, you start on your makeup. You curl your hair. You even sprayed a little bit of the perfume that your parents got you as a birthday gift a long time ago. It's a bit faint, the smell has faded away from age, but it still smells like that morning when you opened the box, finding a present in your hands, for the first time in a long time.

You push those away too.

Stepping out, you find Rafe dressed. In a tailored dark blue suit, he sits on the edge of his mattress, his hands messing with his phone. Even you have to admit, he cleaned up nicely. His dress shirt spans perfectly across the broad of his shoulders, his biceps filling out the arms, and the form-fitting material latches onto his chest. He even styled his hair—gelled back but loose; a stark contrast to the rundown and casual look he sports upon entering your bars and parties.

The low click of your heels against the marble floor alerts him of your presence.

His gaze lifts to meet your face, before trailing down your body to take you in. You notice his Adam's apple slightly bobs and you wonder if it's because you're a little underdressed compared to him.

"Are you done?" He asks stiffly, clearing his throat and shifting his eyes away. You walk out of his bathroom completely, stopping in front of his closet mirror to apply the finishing touches of your makeup.

When you're finished, you turn back around and strike a small pose for him. "What do you think?"

"You look... good." He settles and you roll your eyes. Of course that's the only compliment he can come up with. You expect nothing less.

"You should expand your vocabulary and give better compliments to your girlfriend," you tease, stepping closer to him. His legs parts slightly, almost inviting you in. "Or else people might assume you aren't giving them enough."

He scoffs. "You look fuckable. Is that better?"

Your nose wrinkles. "Awful. 0/10."

He chuckles, looking to the floor, but his laugh is tense. You glance down, noticing the way his shoulders are rigid and his posture is straight as a rod, and realization strikes you. Just as you're nervous, so is Rafe.

You step forward, in between the space of his legs, and place a delicate hand on his shoulders. He looks up to you. "You good?" You ask gently.

"I'm fine." He quickly brushes off, pushing away from your touch. "I'm just ready to get this shit over with. I hate business dinners."

"Spoken by someone who wants to get in said business." You retort, turning around to grab your purse off his dresser, when suddenly, you feel Rafe grabs your exposed thigh, holding you in place between him.

You turn back, raising a confused brow.

"Give me a kiss."

This request startles you. "Why?"

His eyes study your face before shrugging. "Practice."

You can't help but laugh a little. It truly is your go-to response to everything, and you notice his shoulders slightly unwind at the sound. "Why? Are you a bad kisser?"

He rolls his eyes, and with one strong tug, you fall into his open lap. His hand cups your cheek, and without another word, he kisses you. Softly, at first, as if he's trying to get used to the feel of your lips against his, before deepening it. You can't help but let out a content sigh, enjoying the feeling.

When he slightly pulls away, he murmurs against your lips. "Someone needs to do something about that mouth of yours."

You scoff, placing both arms on either side of his shoulders and looping it around his neck, pulling back to get a better look of his face. His eyes are unreadable and his lips are faintly red from the shade of your lipstick.

"Isn't that supposed to be your job?" You tease, tilting your head to the side. "Or should I find another fake boyfriend to put me in my place?"

His expression goes hard. This time, he leans forward and captures your lips against him, in a firmer, more possessive manner. It's everything that accumulated so far—from seeing you with Maybank and Heyward outside the docks to the little dress-up you did specifically for him.

It's the idea of you, in his lap, knowing for the next couple of hours, you're his.

You only pull away to catch a breath, giggling at the sight of your lipstick smeared over his face. Running the pad of your thumb over his mouth, you attempt to wipe away the cosmetic product with no avail.

“You messed up my makeup,” you jokingly pout, rising from his lap. His touch loosens around you, but with great reluctance. When you go to the bathroom to take a paper towel, you return to wipe the remnant of your kisses off of Rafe.

"I'll buy you a new one." He says as you wipe away the last of it.

You roll your eyes at the suggestion. "No need." You declare, returning to his closet mirror to reapply your lipstick and fix the smudges.

He says nothing in return. His gaze follows your every move. It isn't until you're done, really done, that you step in front of him and hold out your hand for Rafe to take.

"Come on, boyfriend," you say the title with a tease. "Time to play house."

—

When you arrive at the country club, your heart stutters in your chest. It's a bit intimidating, the glory of Fight Eight and all their Kooks, pinned down to this exclusive membership to say you made it. You wonder, for a brief moment, if you'll ever get there.

But, then you remember, for the next couple of hours, you'll pretend you did.

You don't know if Rafe allowed you a few minutes in the car to get ready or if he needed it himself, but you take the scraps. When the moment was over, he stepped out and crossed over to the passenger side to open your door.

You smile at the gesture, allowing yourself to be led out of the car by his hand. When he closes the door behind you, you tilt your head up at him. "Thought boyfriend acts were below you?"

"Had to play the part in front of these people, didn’t I?"

You remember where you are and the smile fades out. You are no longer in the confines of your bar nor his desolated mansion. It's you, with people watching, with people reporting, with his father within proximity. Every decision, in the next couple of hours, is an act.

A falsity.

Remember that.

You silently nod as he places his arm around your waist, planting a soft kiss on the side of your forehead, as he leads you towards the entrance. There were waitstaff attending there, and when you approach close enough, they open the double doors. Rafe skips past them without a single acknowledgement, but you mumble a thank you in their direction, before being whisked away to the setting.

Your eyes admire the details. The decorations hung against the walls and railings of the place, the bouquets set on every corner, the streams of crystal chandeliers dangling above you in every room. It's glorious.

"They have tulips," you whisper to Rafe, who follows your gaze to the centerpiece in front of the stairwell. "It's not even in season."

"We're Kooks, sweetheart," he says with a scoff, an air of arrogance. "If we want something, we get it."

You say nothing as you scan the rest of the room, preparing yourself for the evening. Rafe and you went through most of the details about your arrangement, how you two got together, when it happened, and the minor sentiments to make it seem real. You believe you're prepared enough.

"Ready to meet my dad, sweetheart?" Rafe mumbles into your ear, his breath hot against your neck. You nod.

"As ready as I'll ever be, darling."

Rafe chuckles at the nickname you picked, but you figured it would play the part. Pretend there's some tenderness between the two of you. You may not have been given instructions on how to be a girlfriend, but you imagine it would be something cheesy. Sweet. A little bit unrealistic.

Just like this.

Rafe pulls you towards the crowd. While caterers and waiters waltz across the room in a coordinated dance, you couldn't help but search for the bartenders. Of who they booked this evening. You wonder, for a moment, if you were even on their radar.

A murmur of conversations starts to fade out as you arrive and your fingers squeeze Rafe's hand. Ward was the last to acknowledge your presence, his eyes observing you and trailing down to the intertwined hands of you and his eldest son.

"Dad," Rafe greets, his voice filled with proper and posh, you wonder if this was the same person you were talking to moments ago. "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend."

He introduces your name to the crowd and Ward stares in amazement, if not, with a little bit of disbelief. His eyes left his son, tracing you, trying to pinpoint anything out of place.

"Hi," you hold out your hand for a handshake. He takes it. "It's so nice to meet you. Rafe has told me all about you."

"He has?" Ward lifts his dark brow at you. "What does he say?"

Other than rants about you? Nothing good, you thought.

Rafe stiffens beside you, his eyes on the firmed on the side of your face but you don't falter. You've been in customer service for a long time, you knew how to lie.

"He said you're a good businessman for Cameron Development. Someone with a lot of difficult choices to make. He hopes to be there with you one day." You summarize, pinpointing the good details of Rafe's tirades. You hope he didn't recognize the little jab you placed there.

Ward looks amused. A bit proud. But says nothing more. Dinner is declared ready and everyone begins to take their place. You fall into a seat beside Rafe; he even pulled out a chair for you before he sat.

You want to stick your tongue at him and tease him, but you know this isn't the appropriate time. Returning your sight to what's before you, you feel slightly out of place. Usually, you're the one serving these people, not the ones being served. The reversed role is jarring.

When the waitress comes around and asks for everyone's drink orders, you internally frown. When she came to you, you answered that you wanted some pinot noir while Rafe chose whiskey neat. Leaving off, the business dinner proceeds.

You zone in-and-out at their conversations. It's mostly about marketplace and land developments, furthering relationships between companies, and the occasional jab on who has the better enterprise. You wanted to nod off, but you didn't.

So, you watch Rafe instead.

His eyes are set on his father, observing the interactions between him and his business partners. His gaze is focused and diligent, absorbing every little detail, as if he's making mental notes about it. About how he would proceed if he gets the company.

You admire that. It reminds you of how you view Sailor.

When the conversation winds down to casual talk, and you're on your second course, Ward surprises you by calling you out by name.

You lift your gaze to meet his. "I wanted to ask where I know you from," Ward begins, raising his glass. "You seem vaguely familiar."

You clear your throat before you answer.

"I work at Sailor," you explain, wiping your hands against the clothed napkin. "My family owns it. We catered for you a few years ago."

It takes a moment for it to click, and recognition dawns on his face. "That's right," he drawls, amused chuckles signals to the rest of the table. "You were working as the bartender for one of the company's charity events. You had that specific drink I like," he clicks his fingers, trying to remember the name. "That whiskey."

"The Godfather?" You offer, to which Ward nods in confirmation. You laugh softly. "Yeah, that's a family recipe. It's been in my family for a couple generations."

"I remember you saying that before," he nods. "So, that makes you a Pogue."

You know it wasn't said with disdain. Not the same manner that his son carries for the second class. Ward used to be a Pogue himself, being one of the very few who was able to rise out of lower-class and make a name for himself. Despite knowing he's on the opposite side of you, you did admire that. You wanted that yourself.

"So were you, sir. You're a legend around The Cut," you compliment. "The ideal story of how we can make it out."

"With your work ethic, I don't doubt it," he compliments with a wink and you smile. The compliment feels real, and you felt appreciated. Saying nothing else, you take a sip of your drink as you watch how Ward's gaze slides over to his son sitting quietly next to you.

The dinner proceeds with more chatter. You swear you were getting full by the end of the meal, before dessert, that you ask Rafe to take some of your food and finish them for himself. He begrudgingly accepts, allowing you to inconspicuously slide the plate over to his. When it came down to the final hour and everything was served, people started heading out for the night.

Everyone leaving, the table slowly empties until it was only Ward, Rose, Rafe and you.

"So, you're dating my son," Ward declares, and you hesitantly nod. You don't know which direction this conversation may lead, especially now that there's no social barriers constraining his interrogation. "How long?"

You lift your gaze to Rafe, hoping he could answer and you could supply.

"A few weeks," he answers curtly, his eyes set on his father. You notice his hands clenched on his lap, his leg bouncing under the table. "It's new."

"After our...?"

"Yes," Rafe answers without allowing him to finish. "I thought I would listen to your advice."

Ward nods, satisfied. You thought it would be the end of it, before he turned back to you. "Do you know about Rafe's habits?"

Rafe stiffens. His eyes pinned on his father with a hard expression, almost a silent plea not to continue, but Ward ignores his son. "His parties and his drinking? The occasional drugs?"

Rafe turns to you, watching you as you come up with an answer. You silently move your hand over his, enclosing it over his larger one, hoping it would ease some relief into his system. Almost a silent promise; a way to say I have your back.

"I do," you nod, letting the words roll off lightly.

"And you still choose to date him?"

You nod again. "Yes, sir."

Ward laughs. "A saint."

Rafe tense under your touch.

"It's not that." You shake your head, your expression serious. "He has his vices, sure, but that doesn't undermine who he is. He's determined and focused, and when he has a goal, he puts his whole being into it. It's good to have someone like him in your corner."

You avoid Rafe's eyes as you say this. It surprised him. He didn't think you would say some positive attributes about him, especially since he's been nothing but a pretentious asshole to you, but your words were genuine. Authentic. He heard you lie and tell truths, and this one leans towards the latter.

Ward looks to be in the same vein of astonishment and you say nothing as you smile, lifting your glass by the stem and taking another sip. The alcohol isn't as good as yours, but you were glad to make it out alive and passed the test.

When the caterers came back to clean up the table, you decided that you wanted to help them. You know it was unconventional, to be assisting the help as the guest, but you wanted to get out of the space for a moment. To get back to your roots.

You carry some dishes and head towards the kitchen, despite the gentle pleas from the waitstaff.

When you left, Rafe remained with his father. Rose is gathering her things as Ward rises from his chair, Rafe following in suit. When the patriarch gestures for him to approach, the diligent son listens, stepping towards his father.

Ward claps his hand on his shoulder, almost proud. "I'm surprised, Rafe, I never thought I'd see the day." He begins, glancing over to you in the kitchen, moving around in swift and coordinated style. "You did good, son, probably the best you'll ever do."

Rafe stiffens under his father's touch. The words pricking in his ears. "She's a capable woman. But, next time you bring her, make sure she wears something more... appropriate."

He glances back over to you, replacing the plates to the top cabinets, rising to your tippy-toes in a way that pulls up the back of your short dress. Yes, he noticed that it wasn't the typical business attire, a little shorter than recommended, but he pinned it as something a Pogue would wear. Something they didn't think about.

But, the criticism in his ear from his father, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Rafe clenches his jaw, just as Ward slips his hand off his son's shoulder and gathers his wife to leave.

Rafe stands still. He watches you for a few more moments. He noticed some of the sparsely-remaining guests would pass the kitchen, on the way to the exit, and spare a glance at you and your barely-covered ass. His anger heightens.

Marching over, Rafe says nothing as he surprises you and grabs your arm. Without saying a word, he pulls you away from the kitchen and takes you to the nearest bathroom.

He locks the door close.

"What–what the hell?" You snap, pulling your arm out of his grip but his hold is firm. Your furrowed gaze looks up to meet him, finding his expression nothing short of a timid rage and fury, ready to boil over and burst.

Rafe is strumming with adrenaline. With anger. With all these emotions coursing through him in rapid succession, he can't reach out and grab any of them. Something about his father's comment tonight rubbed him in a bad way. The way Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you, a Pogue he found off the streets. The way your dress is too fucking short. The way you were being too kind—grabbing his hand, calming him, complimenting him. It was all wrong.

He needs release.

He needs to take it out on you.

"You had to wear the shortest fucking thing you owned?" He sneers, his hand sliding over your ass and squeezing it, hard. It elicits a small moan from you. "Had to show off what a fucking slut you are, didn't you?"

Your mind is spinning. You don't understand what is going on. You thought everything was good—you even sweared you saw a covert smile on Rafe's face before you left. You don't know what could happen between then and now and why he's being so aggressive to you. His words. His touch.

You don't know why you like it.

Turning around, you try to grab his attention, placing a hand on the side of his face. "What happened?" You say, breathless, "talk to me."

He flinches out your touch. "I don't want to talk."

"What do you want?"

"Get on your knees."

You do.

Rafe watches as you sink to the bathroom floor, the lack of coverage from your dress does nothing to soften the hardness of the ground. He unbuckles his pants, removes them, and reveals the impressive bulge hidden behind his boxer-briefs.

You watch attentively as he takes the last piece of barrier off, freeing his cock, just inches from your face. The tip is covered with a bit of precum, something that you want to put in your mouth. You feel the throb in your pussy, squeezing your legs tighter to relieve some of the ache.

"You want a boyfriend who puts you in your place?" He looks down at you, the look on his eyes is hard and detached, like he's out of it. "One who's there to do something with that mouth of yours? You want that, Pogue?"

You find yourself nodding, almost hungrily, following along to his words. He scoffs with a condescending laugh, gripping the base of his shaft with one hand and guiding it closer to your mouth. "Open."

Part of you want to use the moment to ask him what's going on. For him to clue you in on something. But you don't get the chance. Without your immediate obedience, Rafe roughly grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, forcing your mouth to pop open.

"Are you going to listen to me, sweetheart?" He taunts, "or am I gonna have to teach you a lesson?"

"I'll listen." You confess, your voice doesn't sound like your own. The ache between your legs doesn't subside.

Satisfied, Rafe levels the tip to your face, tapping it against the plump of your bottom lip, before pushing it in.

He goes a little fast. Like he's trying to fuck your face. Your touch comes up to slow down, exchanging his hand with yours, grabbing his base to allow you to guide his cock into your mouth at your own discretion. He allows you to have that control, his hand traveling up to your hair, tugging at the roots.

When he hits the back of your throat, you gag, and Rafe lets out a guttural groan. "Fuck, just like that," he murmurs, tipping his head back at you take him in. "This fucking mouth."

He comes in and out of you, finding a rhythm that allows you to get used to his dick in your mouth. When you do something that makes him feel good, his grip around your hair tightens, pulling you to stay in place.

"Is this how I have to punish you?" His voice is sharp, but the edge comes off with every pleasure that elicits out of him. "You get one fucking chance to meet all these people, all these Kooks, and you had to dress like a slut. To show off?"

He grabs you by the roots, tilting your head in a way that pops his cock out and your eyes to find his. "Who do you belong to?" He asks.

Your core throbs at the possession. "You."

He nods and breathes out a raspy breath. "That's fucking right."

Letting you go, Rafe suddenly pulls you to your feet. His hands hooks under your ass and lifts, setting you down on the sink counter, your back slams against the wall in a harsh beat. Without wasting a second, Rafe grabs your thighs and pulls you towards the edge, just enough where you don't fall off.

"Rafe," you call out, as your eyes connect with his, his breathing is heavy. His eyes are wild. He doesn't answer you, roughly spreading apart your thighs, his hand traces the wet patch formed against your panties, causing a shiver to run down your spine. "God."

Rafe leans in, his lips just caressing your bare shoulders. "Just a Pogue who does what I want, when I want, aren't you?" He reminds you of your place, the gentle touches of his fingers erupting aches and unbearable heat between your legs. You don't answer him in time. "Aren't you?"

"Just yours."

He chuckles, pulling back to flick his gaze up to you. "And who made you this wet?"

Your voice is needy. "You did."

"That's right," he pushes your panties to the side, fingers moving up and down your slit in delicate strokes. You lean forward into his touch but his grip is placed on your hips. "I did. And I want you to remember that this is mine. No one can touch but me."

You nod into his words, willing to give him anything to prove some semblance of pleasure for you. "All yours," you choke desperately, "please, make me come."

His hand leaves your core, and the coldness that evades his absence pricks your sensitive skin. His hand raises to cup the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Aw, baby," he mocks, "bad girls don't get to come."

You open your mouth to object, but Rafe lines his cock against your entrance and, without warning, pushes himself in. You feel your body arches forward, letting out an uninhibited moan, as he stretches you out.

"Fuck," you press your forehead against his warm chest, your breathing unsteady and your eyes flutters in-and-out of consciousness. "It's so—you're so—" You can't find your words, your mind scrambled.

Rafe catches your jaw, forcing your eyes open and to look down at you see him lodge deeper and deeper inside of you. His motion is slow and steady, allowing you to adjust, before quickening his speed. "Look," he murmurs into your ear, your skin hot everywhere, "look at how good your pussy is taking me."

The sound of wetness echoes in the small bathroom, the evidence of your arousal to him, to Rafe, that you can't help but choke at the noise. Your head is spinning. You feel pleasure and pain ripping out of you, all at once, subdued by the rising credence of your climax.

Rafe doesn't loosen his grip around your jaw, forcing you to watch attentively to how his cock thrusts upon you, entering and leaving, the motion a mesmerizing sight that produces further need within you.

"Rafe," you moan with a whimper, you steady yourself by gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into your shoulder blades, trying to regain some control. "Faster. Please, I want to come so bad."

"What did I say, sweetheart?" He tilts your head to meet his hardened gaze, his breathing shakily and unorganized as the feeling of the way your walls grip him provides the most pleasurable sensation, he was sure to come soon. "Bad girls don't come."

Your eyes grow teary as you feel him fill you up, to the hilt, your stomach so full of him. He moves at a pace that works for him, that allows him to climb to his climax, while it's frustratingly slow for you. Not enough for you to reach the peak.

You lean into him, chest pressed to chest, your breathing unsteady as your walls tightens around cock.

"Come on, baby." He taunts. "Make me feel so good."

Him, you note, because this is about his pleasure. Because you didn't deserve to reach the same ecstasy.

"Rafe," your voice is so raspy, you resort to begging. You can feel his cock twitching inside of you. "Please, please, I'll be so so good—"

He slaps a hand over your mouth, covering your pleas. Your eyes teary as you stare up at him. "I don't want to hear anything." He snaps with a grunt, "you're a Pogue. Fucking act like it."

This Rafe is cruel. It isn't the same person who defended you against the drunk stranger. He isn't the same one who kissed you at Tannyhill. This is the Rafe you met on the back porch of Topper's house, the one who comes into your bar, the wildcard his father warns you about.

You know you should stop this. To come to your senses and deny him of the pleasure he so desperately chasing from you. To gain some control. But it feels so goddamn good, that the idea of losing the feeling of Rafe, inside of you, was harder to bear. It makes you lose all clarity.

When you feel Rafe's strokes growing more sloppy, a sudden realization dawns on you.

"Rafe," you say breathily, "pull out. I need—you need to pull out."

He cups your cheeks, a firm but not harsh grip like before, and forces your eyes to meet his. "What did I say about telling a Kook what to do?" He taunts lazily, just with one final thrust, he comes inside of you.

His hot cum fills you up, and it feels so warm and nice, you think you're going insane with the buzzing sensation you feel afterwards. He stiffens as he spazzes, his head leaning against the crook of your neck as the wave of his climax rolls over him, the stillness of his cock inside of you leaves an unbearable ache between your legs.

Rafe pulls out within a few short breaths, slipping his dick out of you as the cum leaks onto the counter and drips onto the floor. You are completely still, your eyes following him as he reshuffles around in his post-orgasmic haze, redressing his pants and briefs in one piece.

He moves around to grab some tissue papers, coming back to dab the area around your filled cunt to clean you up, his eyes not meeting yours. In shame, frustration, or clarity, you don't know.

When he finishes, he buckles his belt and throws the tissues into the trash. Pausing at the door, he glances at you for a brief, tiniest second. "Clean up. I'll drive you back."

When he leaves, you take a moment to gather yourself. To reel in everything. You slowly slip off the counter, landing on wobbly and aching legs, and turn around to view your reflection in the mirror.

The mess of your hair, the wrinkles of your clothes, his cum leaking down your thighs.

It takes a beat, then two, before you find yourself producing words.

"What the fuck just happened?" 

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Navigation — Part 02 | Part 03 | Part 04

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

[frankcastiglione]

On Tap

a jake 'hangman' seresin x shy!reader fic

warnings: none! unless you count jake being shirtless as one; she/her pronouns used; no use of y/n

word count: 1.7k

summary: you work for your family friend penny at the hard deck one summer and meet this handsome pilot....

a/n: i haven't written ?? something in over a year so thanks to glen powell for this i guess? and for yall encouraging me to write!! thank you for reading!

You don’t even remember how it started. And looking back you think maybe divine intervention must have led you here.

Your Aunt Penny – who isn’t even really your aunt, it’s what you’ve called her your whole life – invites you to work with her for the summer at the bar she owns. The Hard Deck.

Divine intervention or just your aunt thinking about you for a summer job has you quick to say yes. That’s how you find yourself working in a busy bar full of handsome men in uniform.

Penny, has you working odd jobs, filling in wherever you’re needed. Even if you never expected yourself to take a job like this – it was the freedom you wanted. To be somewhere else. Away from home.

What you didn’t know was that you’d find your new home here. And it wasn’t at Penny’s – you did live with her for a good while. But no, your new home would be a person. A tall dirty blond pilot with a flashy grin and strong arms that squeezed you tight.

You’d seen him around at the bar of course. He was hard to miss. There was something about him though that caught your eye more than any of the other pilots who frequented the joint.

Hangman they called him.

You asked Penny once what his real name was after he’d asked her for a couple beers. You tried to ask as casually as you could and if she suspected your crush on him, she didn’t say anything to tease. She did, however, tell you his name.

Jake Seresin.

You smiled a soft smile to yourself watching him take the beers back to his buddy. You liked the name. You liked him. You hadn’t spoken two words to him, but you had a crush.

Working with your aunt was already a fun kind of chaos, but you became downright eager to get to work for the chance you might see him.

When he was there? Your heart was in your throat as soon as he walked in. He’d take his sunglasses off and neatly hook them in the v of his shirt. The charisma that oozed from him sent electricity into your heart. The highest peak of a thrill was when he got close to the bar to make his order. You could hear his voice and you tried to be casual while he waited for Penny to hand him his drink.

It wasn’t long before Penny caught on. You were bummed on the nights he didn’t come in. And she saw how you lit up when he walked through the door no matter how much you tried to hide it.

That’s when she began to meddle. Only a little of course. But she saw something that you hadn’t. She’d seen Jake’s quick glances in your direction. She was surprised he didn’t say anything at first. He was usually quick on the draw to talk to a cutie.

She’d get to the bottom of it.

The first chance arose when he came in one night. You couldn’t help but smile a little when he came in. He was alone tonight but he didn’t seem to mind. He liked the atmosphere. The bar would be full of pilots soon and locals, and that energy was something he loved.

He headed straight for the bar, and you could feel your heart pounding harder and harder with each step he made. Suddenly the glass in your hand really, really needed to be dried off. You saw him quickly put his sunglasses on his shirt, and you made eye contact with him right has he did his little toothpick trick in his mouth. You know your eyes must have widened when his smile did.

Yeah, this glass really needs to be dry. This one in particular.

His Texas accent came out heavy when he asked Penny for a drink. She poured it but then handed it to you.

“Give this to Jake, will you? I gotta get this.” And before you could blink, his drink was thrust in your hand, and she was answering her phone. You didn’t have time to think that this was an obvious set up because the panic had set in that you had to hand this to him.

Jake was standing on the other side of the bar, waiting. His smile was growing. If you didn’t know any better, he was enjoying the flustered look on your face.

“Hi,” he said stretching out his hand to reach for his drink.

“Hi,” you answered back, breaking into a shy smile. You met him halfway to put the drink in his hand. His fingers touched yours in the exchange and you felt warmth grow on your skin.

“Jake,” he said as he grabbed the glass in his other hand and reached for you with his right.

You gave your name and took his hand. When your palms clasped, he squeezed and gave you a little wink.

“I’ve seen you in here lately,” he continued, “nice to meet you.” Another wink.

You meekly pulled your hand from his, and he took his first sip of beer. His eyes on you the whole time. You think all the moisture in your mouth must have evaporated from the heat of his gaze.

He wandered over to the dartboard and started to play. You stood frozen where you stood, and a little nudge from Penny broke you out of your stupor.

“Everything ok?” You asked and started to dry a different glass this time, one that actually needed it.

She nodded with a slight knowing smile. She could see the look on your face. You knew she could, but you tried to hide it.

She actually did get a phone call. Normally she wouldn’t answer while working, but it gave her the perfect opportunity to nudge you towards that handsome pilot.

She’d get another chance to nudge that next afternoon.

The two of you were in the bar when she grabbed a notebook of things she was working on. You were wiping down a table, and she called your name.

“Let’s go outside for a bit,” she motioned out back. You shrugged and followed her outside.

The sky was golden. And you squinted a little as your eyes adjusted. Penny sat down, notebook in hand and began to write. Write what you didn’t know or care. Because when you saw the crowd of pilots on the beach your attention was drawn there.

You spotted Jake immediately. Most of the pilots had taken their shirts off, and you managed to catch him as he was pulling off his black tee. You panicked when his glance turned your way. The sunglasses on his face didn’t hide where he looked – at you.

You felt a bolt of lightning, and you almost dropped the drink you had in hand.

“Sit,” Penny smiled and gave you a knowing pat on the back.

You did sit, and you watched them play football on the beach. Your eyes trained on Jake. It gave you a thrill knowing that he knew you were watching. You knew he was a showoff, but you liked to think he did really want you out there.

They weren’t close enough for you to tell exactly what was going on, and you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You could hear the occasional tweet from the whistle and the general chaos of yelling when someone scored.

At one point, you saw Maverick wave at Penny, and you smiled. You loved seeing their little interactions.

When the sun started to set, the game was coming to an end. The pilots dispersed; laughter rang out as the pockets of them split. But not Jake. He was headed right for the bar. His tee shirt in his hand, and you could see the sheen of sweat on his skin from where you sat. He got closer and you felt panic again.

You made up some excuse to go inside to Penny. And for the life of you – you don’t know why you did.

Not straying too far inside, you lingered by the door. You heard Jake walk up the steps and greet Penny.

“Where’d she go?” His voice muffled but you could still hear.

“Inside,” Penny nodded in the direction of the bar. “You better go in there and ask her out. Or I’ll set you up on a date with her myself.” Your heart jumped. There was a lump in your throat you couldn't swallow.

“But put your shirt on Jake, you’ll scare the girl to death.” You could hear the smile in her voice, and you didn’t stick by the door to hear what he said in return.

You headed for the bar, something safe to hide behind. Even though you wanted him to ask you out, it scared you to death. He made your knees weak, despite the thrill he gave you every time you saw him.

The back door creaked, and you felt sick and excited all at once. You glanced in that direction in time to see him pull his shirt on. It stuck to him, and he pinched some of the fabric in his fingers to pull it off his skin.

The blood pounding in your ears was loud, and it only grew as he got closer.

You were the only two people in the bar. You knew of course by now he was in there for you, and there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind now.

“Hi,” he said with the biggest grin you’d seen on him yet. He tacked on your name after his greeting, and you could’ve sworn that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you.

“Hi Jake,” you replied back, testing out his name on your lips. “Can I get you something?” You asked him with a smile, you wanted to see what he’d say back.

He leaned on the counter. He was close. You could smell the saltwater and sand on him.

“I don’t think it’s on tap,” he clicked his tongue.

“Oh?” you laughed softly, you know what he’s getting at. But you don’t dare stop him. You’ve been dying for him to flirt with you more, even if you weren’t sure what to do with his attention. “Try me?”

“Don’t suppose I could order a date with you? To go?”

“As luck would have it,” your face is warm, and you are beyond flustered but you find your words somehow. “We do have that, but only for you.”

“Is it available tonight?"

The smile on your face hurt your cheeks, and it matched his grin. Like before, he reached for you. Only this time you didn’t let go.

[calebsmoocher]

Sucking him off while he fucks you with his evol

Being a renowned thief, Caleb knows where to go first when his things go missing: her room. In his search, however, he finds a peculiar, pink, phallic possession of hers. Cw: smut, so MDNI, oral (m receiving), inappropriate use of evol, use of sex toy, girl i tried to put fluff in there

She had a habit of taking things. Well, borrowing, she’d justify vehemently. First it was his sweaters. Turn his back once and she’d snatch the pillars of comfort that got him through the winter.

“You know, I do your laundry as well,” he’d say. She wouldn’t spare him a glance, swaying slowly in her chair. She’d be hunched over her coursework, pen tapping at her lip.

“Yeah? Well why can’t I find my sweater? The pink one with hearts.”

“Now I’ve gotta fold your laundry as well?” He approached her focused form, leaning down to hover above her head. His fingers pinched the fabric of his sweater, the expanse of fabric allowing him to tug on it without the chance of pulling her arm with it. “It doesn’t even fit you.”

“I’m not taking it off. I’m too warm,” she whined, throwing her head back to lean against him. Warmth flooded his cheeks. Stifling a cough, he pushed her head back down playfully.

“I’m not asking; don’t worry. Go back to doing your work.”

Sometimes it would be his headphones. 

“I have to twist mine a certain way to get them to work!” She’d cry.

Or his switch. 

“Oh please, just ten more minutes. I even beat your high score!”

Even on occasion his aerospace textbooks. 

Caleb was rifling through his bookcase, wanting to refresh his mind on his academy coursework. It was only after he cleared the first two shelves when had clocked his biggest mistake being not checking her room first. And there they were, right as his eyes landed on her desk. She had three of them stacked under her monitor.

“You’re just taking anything at this point. Are you sure it’s not because you miss me? Should I also take some time off?”

She’d scoff, handing him the books. “Yes, my eyes miss my monitor being at eye-level. You’re going to be the one massaging me when I have neck problems from hunching over this screen.”

With her constant violations of petty thievery, it was impossible to tell his room apart from hers. 

And this behaviour continued its way to Skyhaven. She was staying with him while on leave at the association. Over her frequent but brief visits, a lot of her items had already accumulated within his house.

Caleb had just returned from an early finish at the fleet. He narrowed his eyes; his house was empty. Had she gone sightseeing without him? Pulling his uniform cap off, he figured he’d start on dinner. Would she even be back in time? Should he call her? He swallowed thickly. He should lay off her; she wasn’t a child anymore. 

He pulled his gloves off and reached for his necklace on the bedside table. But his nails hit the smooth surface, no chain in sight. That was weird. He had placed it here before he left in the morning, the particular fleet mission not allowing him to wear metallic accessories. Had he placed it somewhere else? He wasn’t one to forget where he’d place such an important keepsake. Maybe his table? He turned around before scoffing. Oh. Nevermind. He was ashamed it hadn’t been his first instinct. Of course, she had taken it. Or borrowed it, whatever. 

The first place he looked was her desk. It didn’t immediately jump out at him. Of course, she could have it on, he thought. But now that he was in her room, it’d give him the chance to retrieve any other items she had managed to paw off him. 

He pulled the top drawer of her bedside table out. Score, he thought. There was an assortment of silver jewelry poking out between the ruffles of fabric of one of his favourite shirts. He’d hit two birds with one stone, he guessed. But when he pulled the shirt away his eyes widened, blood rushing to his ears. The pounding echo of his heartbeat was sounding right in his ears. Hidden, poorly under his shirt he’d add, was a pinkish translucent, silicon dildo. And it was rolling side to side in all its thick, girthy, glory. Caleb gaped. This thing was huge. Easily ten inches, with artificial veins protruding from its smooth surface. 

The familiar chime of her placing her keys on the kitchen bench caught his attention with a jolt. He slammed the draw shut.  

“Caleb?” The girl swung her head up at the sharp noise, cautiously dropping her bag. THe noise had come from her bedroom. When she went to investigate, he was standing over her bed, not facing her. “You’re back already? I bought some mushrooms and water chestnuts. How about we make wontons tonight?” Caleb sucked in a breath before turning, slowly. He shot her a smile. As he took her in, there his chain lay, gleaming brightly on her chest. Maybe curiosity really had killed the cat. She followed his gaze and smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I felt like wearing it. I didn’t want it to be lonely.” “You’re cute.”

She reached for the clasp behind her neck. “Were you looking for…” Her voice slowed as her eyes moved over his rigid form. His face was calm, but the tips of his ears were ember. She furrowed her brows, eyes tracing down to his hands. He was holding her shirt. His shirt. The shirt. Her heart dropped. 

No. Why did all the embarrassing shit happen to her? She didn’t have to address this. She’d turn right around and march back into the kitchen.

“You can say your excuses now. I’m listening.” Caleb had straightened up, relaxing from his previously robotic stance. 

Run. Run. That’s all she knew how to do. Because crossing this boundary would destroy her. His jaw tightened in the silence. Was he letting her run away from this? Or was it finally time to address the overbearing tension that had been neglected for so long that it had seeped its way into their every interaction?

“I…” she took a step back. The kiss they silently swore to never talk about haunted her. Had it harrowed over his mind in the same ways? 

She could play it off as not being a big deal. “I’m an adult. This… These things are natural,” she would argue.

“But wrapped in my shirt? I don’t think that’s appropriate.You know my feelings towards you,” is what he’d say in reply. Cold, callous and without the comforting, teasing lilt to his voice. She shook her head, wanting to scream into her fists. There were too many bad possibilities to come. 

She felt the sting of tears brim at her waterline. Fuck. Caleb noticed, mouth opening then shutting then opening again. His eyes were frantic over her form.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I know it’s…” He began to stammer. “It’s…normal to…”

She cut him off. “It’s not weird, right?”

He shook his head slowly. A pause. “Weird that it was…?” At a loss for words, he gestured to his shirt still held tightly in his hand. Wrapped in his shirt.

Fuck. She swallowed thickly.

“Does it mean anything?” His voice was gentle. Cautious.

She shut her eyes tightly. “Maybe.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Is it weird?” Her voice was on the precipice of breaking. She felt his hand at the back of her head, bringing her in for a ginger hug. He laughed softly.

“No, it’s not weird.” He tilted her chin to meet her reluctant gaze. “How often do you use it?”

This time she actually sobbed. “You’re joking, right?”

He struggled to suppress a smile, wanting to shift the heaviness in the room out. “Do you think about me when you…”

Oh, she had had enough of this man. Almost smacking him across the face, she pressed her palm over his mouth. Fuck this was no happening right now. She did not just hear that. 

Her eyes clenched shut as she hung her head. She felt him snicker into her palm and her brows creased.

“I’ve heard you in the shower, you know? Do you think about me when you’re…” She trailed off with purpose and furrowed her brows up at him. It contrasted his sickly sweet smile. 

“Yes, I do.” His smile widened at her gasp. “Always. It’s only ever been you.”

“Caleb…”

He pulled her hand away from his mouth. His hand slid down from her head to her lower back, thumb pressing small strokes into the fabric. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, she reached up to gently clasp at his neck, guiding him down. The few seconds it took for him to close in on her strained her breath. His eyes trained on her. The part of his lips and ragged breath that fanned over her own. She didn’t want to bask in it any longer, lest she lost the adrenaline thumping through her veins. His kiss was firm, nothing like the cautious exterior he had been so careful to display. His left hand cupped her cheek, tipping her jaw up to deepen the kiss. She clung to his wrist. 

His scent engulfed her. She wanted to get closer, worm her way right against his chest. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair. See if she could elicit a sound so vulnerable from him. 

When he broke the kiss, it was only to begin pressing frantic kisses down her jaw and neck. She gasped, using the moment to gently grab strands of hair at the back of his head, running her nails down to his nape. 

He groaned into her. And she felt a spark in her stomach.

“Will you…” His breath was short as he continued to press kisses into her skin through his words. “Will you show me how you use it on yourself?” He had opened her bedside table again, pawing blinding at the silicone toy. Fuck, he was joking. 

Her face reddened. “Caleb…”

“Am I asking for too much?” He asked genuinely through a laugh. 

She rolled her eyes, feeling the adrenaline plateau inside her. He had left her breathless far too many times in the span of five minutes. 

“I think you’ve done enough.” She pushed at his chest, guiding him backwards. When his legs hit her chair, she pushed him down into it. He laughed through his chest, gleaming up at her with an arrogant smile.

“You have me all to yourself. I’m completely in your care.”

She flushed at his brazenness, slowly dropping to her knees before him. Maybe the adrenaline was spiking again, but seeing him from this new angle had her heart threatening to jump out of her throat. 

“Can I use my mouth on you?” 

His arrogance slipped. He caressed her head again, searching her eyes. “Please,” he said. Gently, weakly.

She sucked in a breath before shakily reaching for his zipper. The whine of the zipper undoing was the only sound besides their ragged breaths. His eyes scrutinised her every move, mouth agape. He helped her drag his pants down, pooling at his knees. He guided her to look up at him again, and they both had a chance to recognise the mutual fear thrumming within them.

“You’re so pretty.” He stroked her hair. “My pretty girl.”

Through his briefs she guessed he was half-hard. She brought her hand up, palming him gently. She had never done this. Was this okay? Was she being too rough? Not rough enough? He sensed her hesitance, encompassing his own hand over hers.

“Like this,” he offered, pressing firmly. His fingers curled around hers, encouraging her to take a confident grip over the fabric. It was hot, and it filled her entire hand. She assumed a steady pace, moving her grip up and down. He let out a shaky breath, and his other hand tightened around the arm chair. She could feel his cock twitch and begin to fully harden. Something in her stomach jumped. Gaining confidence, she tugged at the waistband of his briefs, shimmying them down to join his pants. His cock sprung up against his stomach, beads of precum dripping down a thick girth. She swallowed in anticipation. And placed a fleeting kiss on his tip.

“Fuck…” His cheeks were dusted pink. He leaned forward planting his own quick kiss on her forehead before reaching down between her legs. “Should I help you out as well?” He tugged on her skirt, flipping the fabric up over her ass. His breath hitched as he stared down at her cotton panties. “Are these new?”

If she wasn’t gripping his cock and trying to pleasure him as best she could, she would have slapped him upside the head. “What, don’t tell me you’re a panty sniffer.”

He barked back a laugh. “I think it’s more concerning that you still ask me to do your laundry at your ripe age.”

“Yes, I’ve got the Colonel wrapped around my finger, doing trivial things like my laundry.”

He traced the seams of the fabric, pressing into her skin. “Yes, you’ve got the Colonel entirely to yourself. Will you be good to him?” His fingers followed the fabric to circle at her heat. She gasped. It was hard to keep a steady rhythm as his fingers teased pushing in. Eventually, he settled for drawing gentle circles at her clit; then looping down to tease her entrance through the fabric. “Don’t stop.”

She listened, guiding him into her mouth. She sucked at the tip, rolling her tongue to sweep the underside of his cock. She watched him intently, stomach mimicking all the sharp intakes he did as he shifted in his seat.

“You feel so good,” he whined. The steady motions of his hand were breaking up. But it felt good. Knowing that she was doing this to him. That her cunt was leaking and swollen in anticipation for his fingers. “Good girl,” he choked her, “you’re so good to me.”

She took him deeper, supporting the base of his cock with both of her hands. Her eyes were trained on his. Shaking slightly, she experimented with taking him deeper. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat and she lurched back, gasping for her as he slid out from her.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

She laughed. “I’m okay. Was I okay? Did it feel good?”

He stroked her chin, wiping the saliva from her lips. “You were amazing. You made me feel so good.” He brushed the stray hairs away from her eyes. “Don’t push yourself to take more than you can.”

“I wanna keep going.” She nudged his hand away, taking the base of his cock into her hands again.

“Woah, wait up.” He reached over her towards her bed, grabbing her pillow. “Lift your legs.” Shakily, she let him place the pillow between her and the floor. She sunk down into the plush, her knees buzzing from being pressed into the carpet. 

“Thanks…”

He leaned over her again, and she heard the drag of her bedside table opening. “I think it’s time you showed me how you’ve been using this toy of yours.” Her ears reddened. 

“Caleb, that’s embarrassing.” She tried to grab the dildo from him, but he held it out of her reach. “Don’t you want me to keep using my mouth on you? You said it feels good. I want you to cum.” He remained unfazed by her words, much to her dismay. 

“I really want to use this on you, though. Won’t you let me see you take it?” He studied the obscene phallic item closely. Now that she could see it in comparison to Caleb’s cock, she noted that while Caleb was thicker, the toy was longer. That’s what she got for ordering a size large. 

“What are you going to do?” She mumbled. Her cheeks were still ablaze as she watched him.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea you’ll like.” To her horror, she watched as the dildo began to hover in his hand, held up by an invisible force. It rounded her field of vision until it prodded at the fabric of her panties. She felt her stomach flip. Like the ground beneath had suddenly given out and she was in free fall.  “Pull your panties to the side.”

Shakily, she did as she was told. The rush of cold air almost made her jump until she felt the the cool silicone press against her heat. 

“Your toy is so big. Can you really take all of it?”

She covered her face. She was never going to live this down. “Not all of it. Please be gentle.” She felt him kiss her forehead before lifting her head to meet his gaze. 

“I’ll let you decide. You’re the one showing me how you use it, remember?” Confused, she nodded anyway. She guided the dildo into her swollen cunt, gasping shakily at the intrusion. No matter what she did, the initial push would always elicit a quivering moan. “Good girl. Hands on me.” She expected the toy to slide back out of her once she withdrew her hands but it stayed perfectly in place. Her hands returned to their position at the base of his cock. More precum had leaked out, dripping down into her hands. She suckled on the tip, eager to prevent anymore from making a mess. Caleb groaned, positioning one hand at the back of her head. The other, he held out beside her in a beckoning motion. 

“Mmph!” Her eyes snapped open as the toy began to move inside her. Slowly. On its own. But shallowly. Her eyes caught onto Caleb’s fingers, matching the steady push and pull of the toy inside her. 

“You can hold onto me. Show me how much you can take.”

Mouth full of his cock, she latched onto his hand for support, feeling him tug her fingers back and forth with him. Her index and third finger curled around his own two fingers. And he moved them slowly, bringing them closer to his palm. She felt the toy push into her. When his fingers expanded out again, she felt the toy retreat. 

“Go faster or go slower; whatever you want. I want to see.” 

Tears brimmed at her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Slowly, she maneuvered his fingers faster, fucking herself. His eyes gleamed as he stared down at her. His breath was uneven. He could barely contain his groans from spilling out. Here she was, fucking herself with her secret dildo through his evol. He didn’t know how much longer he could watch before he came.

She moaned onto his cock, the vibrations setting him off with another groan. The salty taste of his precum was all she could taste. His girth alone was stretching her mouth, forcing laboured breaths through her nose.

“You’re doing so well. Keep going. Keep fucking yourself.”

Maybe there was no shame in it. He wanted to see her fall apart. She pushed and pulled his fingers faster. Rougher. Brazenly pistoning the dildo in and out of herself. Her body jolted forwards, forcing his cock deeper in her mouth. She wasn’t sure she could fit more than half of him in her mouth without gagging. 

“Mmmph.” She couldn’t even speak. And his words only pushed her further towards the edge.

“Fuck, you feel you so fucking good. Keep going, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

She moaned in reply. Her mind was going delirious. Her fingers began to falter around his, losing pace of the toy. She couldn’t keep focused on so many things at once.

Caleb leaned down to her ear. “Want me to decide?” 

She groaned in approval, forfeiting control and letting her hand slide back down to his cock.

“Alright then.” The pace of the toy picked up. It was harder and faster, but she could take it. Her legs were shaking, barely able to hold her body up. She watched his fingers strain in their curled position, his frantic want for her to cum amplified through the dildo’s relentless thrusts.

“Are you going to cum?” 

She moaned in affirmation, voice getting frantic. Her walls were clamping down along the toy. To stop it? To keep it from pulling out? She couldn’t tell; all her thoughts had melted down into drool seeping from the corners of her lips. She felt the coil in her stomach twinge and strain as her legs shook.

“Fuck. Come. You can let go. Let go for me.” 

She whined, squeezing her legs together. The next thrust pushed her over the edge, snapping the coil and forcing her legs to squeeze as tight as she could. Caleb slowed his fingers, letting her ride out her orgasm. 

She sucked in a huge gasp of air before lowering back down on his cock. She was determined to have him cum in her mouth after that.

“Fuck. Holy shit,” he groaned. His grip on her head tightened, following her movements as she moved up and down his length. “Stop. I’m gonna cum.” She met his eyes and shook her head. “I’m going to come in your mouth. Please…” 

She gasped. “Do it. I want it.”

He groaned, throwing his head back. He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking, pushing his cock further into her mouth. She tried to swallow the gag, determined to let him finish. He bit his lip to filter out the sound of his groans as he came. Ropes of come spilled into her mouth. Hot and slightly thick. She furrowed her brows, not allowing any to escape. She wanted to be good for him.

He gave a few more weak thrusts up into her before sagging back down into the chair.

“You…” He laughed. His hands came around her face, lifting her off him. “Are you okay?”

She was breathless, forcing a smile through her exhaustion.

“Tired, but okay. How was it?”

“You killed me.” He wiped a hand over his brow. He was still using his evol to keep the dildo in place inside her. “Can I take it out?”

“Yeah. Slowly.” The toy withdrew from her and she winced as she felt the run of warm liquid down her thighs.

“Fuuck,” he dragged out. Despite the mess on both of them, he lifted her off her knees and pulled her into his lap. “Does it hurt anywhere?” She shook her head, leaning against him. He moved in to kiss her, but before he could she frowned.

“You want to kiss me? After all that?”

He shook his head in dismissal, scoffing at her. His lips met hers and he gave her a firm kiss. She felt her cheeks tingle at the sight. 

“Let’s stay like this for a minute. Then I’ll clean ya up, promise.”

She nodded, reaching up to brush his hair away from his sweaty forehead. A silence enveloped them as they caught their breaths.

She shifted in his lap, looking up at him.

“How come you were in my room?” 

He gave her an expression of feigned hurt. “Now I’m not allowed to come into your room?”

Shaking her head, the corner of her lips curled up. “I caught you snooping.”

He kissed her nose. “I think I caught you with something worse, you pervert.” Hell, he was never going to let her live this down. 

a/n: the idea that made me create a tumblr! This has unfortunately just opened my mind to what else his evol might be capable of.