#my money’s on picking names out a hat

[deakyjoe]

How do we think they chose which ghoul got to speak in Rite Here Rite Now?

[horreurscopes]

you don't have to pay overdraft fees ever

the biden administration recently cracked down on overdraft fees which means banks cannot force you to pay them as they have become opt-in -- however you do have to call the bank (for example, paypal payments overdraft you even if you have opted out, as they function like checks.)

my experience is with wellsfargo but i imagine that most major banks may operate similarly:

if you have an overdraft fee, call the bank, you will get a machine. go through the autentification process with it but do not mention your issue when it asks you to (specially not the word overdraft -- this is a conspiracy theory i cannot prove but i swear to god they rewire you to more aggressive phone people if you tipoff the machine) instead say "i'd like to speak to a representative" the machine will be like "lol didn't get that" so you may need to repeat it a couple more times before it wires you to a real person

wait! i'd recomend calling as early in the morning as possible to avoid elevator music.

be nice to the customer service person who picks up (i make a point of thanking them for their help and calling them by their name, if i don't catch it the first time i ask them again for it)

my script is something along the lines of: "hi, i noticed there's an overdraft fee in my account that posted on [date]. i am calling to see if we (WE -- you and the representative are a team against the problem) could do something about it" (<- you may decide to be more direct, i just put my innocent hat on)

most if not all of what they say to you is a script. they will be like "i will check that for you with the automated process that takes into account you previous refund activity" BLAH BLAH BLAH. more waiting. if you have had any refunds in the past 12 months, they will be like "sorry the system says no (:" THOUGH, VERY RECENTLY, they have tacked on this question: do you have any thoughts on that / how do you feel about that / etc. though even if they do not prompt you, here's the next step:

say: thank you! i appreciate the automated review, however i do not agree/approve/consent to being charged a fee. is there any way you could check again / anyone else i could talk to / would it be possible to refund it regardless? etc.

they will check again, possibly more waiting, and then you will get an immediate refund! in the rare case they refuse to, here is the link to the FDIC website that you can refer to (note, this is for overdraft fees only):

8. i cannot emphasize this enough -- be nice !!!!!!!!!!! BE NICE! be cheerful, say "thank you" and "no worries" and "take your time!". it is NOT a confrontation, it is NOT their fault, and most of the time the customer service representative wants this to be as frictionless as possible. they are helping you, use the opportunity to make a moment of their day a lot less stressful than they expect it to be.

that is ALL -- i have been using wellsfargo for over eight years, and have lost hundreds of dollars to predatory overdraft fees charged as a punishment for having no money.

during the beginning covid, when they were momentarily suspended (you had to mention covid on the phone to get them back lol), i came to the realization that all of this time they could have been giving me my money back. there was no reason not to, except corporate greed.

do not let phone social anxiety let them take your money from you, now that it is easier than EVER to get it back. and if you need motivation to pick up the phone, remember this headline from a couple of years back lol:

DEATH TO CAPITALISM !!!!!!

[lundenloves]

DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss

↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k

dad!simon masterlist | taglist

Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.

Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.

And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.

In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.

"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.

“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.

“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”

Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.

“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”

“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.

It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.

“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.

“Solid. Johnny.”

He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”

Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.

Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 

“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.

“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 

“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”

He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.

“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 

It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.

His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 

Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.

“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 

“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”

“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 

“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 

“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 

And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 

So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.

“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.

“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 

Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.

“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside

And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.

“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.

Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 

“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 

There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 

Not now anyway.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy

[wowserb0wser]

“Tornado Wrangler”

A/N: Watched Twisters last night and I was literally drooling in the theaters for David Corenswet and Glen Powell. But Glen my boy has many fanfics written for him, not so much for David!! I am here to change that!! Was like crazy horny when writing this, I should be ashamed but I am not.

Paring: Scott x AFAB reader

Description: you work as a lab tech for one of the companies suppling the "storm par" with money and having to check that everything was going to plan. You expected the tornados to be the most interesting part while being in Oklahoma, but a certain science engineer catches your attention and you catch his. Kate’s not in this one :(

WC: 7.5k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Warning(s): MDI!!! Scott being a meanie-weenie at first but he warms up quickly. Nervous!F!Reader, Smut ahead!!! 18+ Size kink, Dry humping, Dirty talking, Finger sucking, Oral (f receiving), Reasonable age-gap (Scott is 26, reader is 23), Pet names = baby, big girl, Kinda degrading/Not really??, Protected penetration (PinV), Slight!DomScott! + Slight!Sub!Reader!, Scott actually never shuts up during sex. MY BOY IS VOCAL🗣️

You've known Javi ever since he left the military. He was looking for grants to fund his "science project". You just happen to be working for one of the businesses that agreed to give him and his whole team equipment, his pitch was impressive and your boss sent you out to know exactly how their money was spent for this experiment. At last that's what they told you, now being in the field, it seemed more like a punishment for you. Not that you didn't like tornados - you did… but only from behind a computer screen. You were a scientist that primarily worked inside of an AC’ed lab, not the blistering heat of Oklahoma and especially with chasing tornados in person and close.

Now here. Faced with an awkward car ride with Javi to meet the whole team. It wasn't completely awkward with Javi, it's just that you haven't spent such a long time alone with him before this moment. At least he tried to make small talk.

It wasn't much further to the meet up spot. And it was clear that every other person who wanted to chase down a tornado was also meeting at the same spot as us.

Javi parks the truck next to an exact same model and makes it as the one you're in, the only difference was the tag line that separates them from each other, the other was “Scarecrow” while yours was “Lion”. That's when you looked around and saw them. They wore matching white button downs with the small label that was wrapped on your truck and the matching one next to you. It read "Storm Par". You've heard of the company, but it wasn't the company you work for, it must be another company that was lending them money.

One particular team mate stuck out from one another. He was tall - tall as in towering over everyone else in the group.

Javi was quick to get out of the car and open your door, lending you his hand to help you get out and stepping straight into loose dirt that went everywhere. You were truly out of your lab.

You follow closely behind Javi while passing through the crowd, people shouting over each other and country music blasting in every direction. You saw some people gather into a set-up booth with merch that had a specific saying, but couldn't tell what it said from your distance. All you could see was a man standing on his truck with sunglasses and a cowboy hat that covered a good portion of his face. You can hear him riling up the crowd. As you get closer to Javi’s group, you can tell who's in charge already. That person being the same tall man that caught your eyes first.

The closer to the man you pick upon what he looks like, he wears almost blacked out sunglasses and a faded blue baseball cap. His dark hair slightly peeking out the corners of his hat, his eyebrows quite hidden behind said sunglasses and a straight smile that barely showed any interest. It was such a night and day comparison to Javi and everyone else on the team as they put on their bright smiles for you as a warm welcome.

Both of you reach the "Storm Par" group of men. Javi welcomes you to the group all-whistle introducing everyone's names and where they went to school. Stopping before the tall man. Giggling to himself before introducing the man, "And this is Scott. He went to MIT-" Javi giggles again at how Scott's reaction hasn't changed. "No, no, no - He makes up for it. With his beautiful, amazing, personality!” Javi praises and justifies. The stoic deadpan faced man. Javi’s hand resting on Scott's shoulder. A quick smile flashes you clean bright teeth. He looks sharp. The clean white freshly ironed button down compared with the other "hillbilly's with a camera" more dirty and not freshly pressed shirts. Javi pats quickly on Scott's shoulder and puts his hands back down. His earbuds still in his ears, you couldn't tell if he even heard your name. Dark aviator sunglasses hid his expression. His jaw clutches down on a piece of gum.

There was an aura about Scott. Nonchalant, unfazed, calm facial expression that draws you in. His tall figure, being around 6’4ft. His arms pulled together crossed against his chest. His forearms stretching the fabric on the short sleeved buttoned shirt, his skin glistening in the hot Oklahoma sun, he was just lightly tanned. You saw how those arms were built and your eyes started trailing down his torso….

Quickly you blinked away from that thought and continued to focus on Javi's words rather than standing and practically drooling over this guy's physique that you literally just met. But you could feel Scott's eyes lingering on your face for a second longer.

After Javi finishes his mini speech he pulls you to the side. "Look, if you're too nervous about going out there then you can just wait at the motel while me and the crew go out." He offers with a sympathetic smile. You were about to accept his offer but remembered why you were out here in the first place. “No, I think I'm ready to see what our money supports." You retort back. Once hearing you, he laughs and slightly shakes his head, “You're never ready for your first tornado.".

You looked towards the group again and saw Scott and some others looking at yours and Javi’s direction. You knew what they thought. That you weren't up for a challenge, time to prove them wrong.

“So when do we head out?" You say with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sit in the "Tin-man" truck along with Javi and Scott, they both sit in the front seat while you were directed to specifically sit in the back. You were quick to put your seatbelt on and Javi slammed on the pedal to start on their chase. A few minutes pass. The music is barely audible and occasionally Scott said to turn either right or left. While on a straight dirt road you muster the courage to start asking questions, “So what exactly does Tornado chasing intel?". Javi once again laughs, simultaneously thinking about how to explain it as simply as possible. Scott doesn't seem to mind or acknowledge your question. Javi responses, “Okay. We start with looking at our data, thank you Scott, and see where a tornado could possibly occur." He taps on the steering wheel to focus. “What do you mean "possibly occur''?”. You expect Javi to continue answering your questions, but Scott's voice pierce the air.

“It all depends on if the seal breaks by the anvil. Warm air goes up and cold air goes down, this continues to build and some other factors that's hard to explain quickly. " He looks back at you, his blue eyes stare down at you. This was the first time seeing his face without those sunglasses and you surely weren’t disappointed. It causes your cheeks to flood with warming. Hopefully the two men didn't notice. Scott turns his head back to the laptop seated on his lap.

The laptop starts beeping, the screen showing bright colors swirling. Both men start smiling at the screen and start hyping each other up for this tornado.

This was so different from being in the lab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shook in the truck's backseat, hearing Javi and Scott yelling over the roaring tornado that was getting closer by the seconds they were outside. The faint snaps of the radar planting into the ground and heavy footsteps rushing back to the truck. Scott reaches for the middle console and holds a walkie-talkie to his mouth, Javi is already putting the car in drive to get away from the approaching tornado. “Our’s is set. We're coming back! Over!” He quickly speaks into the radio and refocuses back on his laptop to see the already updating data scans.

Scott fists his hand together and cheers a little for the successful radar. Javi joins in and whoops the same. Scott's chest puffs in and out, trying to calm down the adrenaline rush that just came washing over his whole body. A big toothy smile shines, he quickly glanced behind to see if you’re sharing the same amount of enjoyment in what they accomplished. Anticipating the same range of emotions as them. This was your first tornado chase and it being so successful out the door was a great performance.

He was shocked to see you clenching the doors handle for dear life with your eyes shut. At first he thought you were hurt but then realized that you were scared of the tornado that is several hundred feet behind you, still chasing you, but from a safer distance. He snaps his fingers and quickly thinks, “Hey!” Snap. “Look at me. You are safe, we are getting out of here.” His quick words make you open your eyes and lock into his, his calm exterior puts an odd sense of ease in your nerves though you know you weren’t completely away from a dangerous tornado. Again, those dark blue eyes barrow into yours. “Okay.” You softly respond back and slowly pull your fingers away from the door handle.

Steading your hands with some deep breaths. Javi also comforts you, “That was just an E-F 3, that was easy peasey! Nothing to be scared of! We’ll be with the rest of the gang in a few minutes.” He smiles in the reflection in the rear view mirror, still focusing on the road ahead of him. You just nod along and breathe deep. Scott watches you for a little long to make sure you don’t work yourself into a panic attack, partially because he really doesn’t want to deal with a stranger going crazy but because a small part of him doesn’t want you to have a panic attack.

Thankfully it wasn’t long till you all were back to a shitty Motel which was the meeting spot to review their new information being downloaded and importing it into a 3D model. Which happens to take a couple of hours to do so, but this Motel happens to be next to a little Ma and Pa diner. Many other tornado chasers ended up at the same Motel, there was already a crowd forming and music playing when you stepped out of the truck to get fresh air.

Without another word, your feet start moving to the Diner. Food and some soda should help.

You were a couple of feet away from the entrance when you heard running footsteps, looking back to see if you needed to move out the way for said runner but was pleasantly surprised to see Scott rushing over to you. Once you make eye contact, or suppose eye contact because he was wearing his sunglasses once again, he started to slow down and his long legs didn’t take long until he was close enough to speak.

His face is still straight and unbothered, he pulled his earbuds off to the side, “Was wondering where you were off so quick.” Was there some cheeky tone laced in his question? You look back forwards the Diner and smile back at Scott. “Maybe a greasy burger will put my mind to ease.” You quip back and turn your heels back in the same direction as before, “Want to join?” You ask as you're already walking to the entrance.

After ordering entries and drinks you both sit at a booth that sits next to a picture window that looks out to the mostly plain fields and hanging decorative lights connected to posts around the Diner. This town in Oklahoma was quaint, without the tornados you would consider this to be perfect.

Turning your head to face Scott, he took off his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. His eyes drift towards yours once he notices that you were looking at him. “I don’t think you're made for this.” He shamelessly speaks, unsure why his words hurt you more than when Javi accused you of the same. But hearing it after the chase stung more. A small frown on your lips. Scott was quick to speak up again before you could respond. “Not saying this to be mean or rude, but what we do is dangerous and I can’t have someone freaking out all the while. I can’t focus on our job when you’re having a panic attack in the back seats.” He explains with some condescending attitude but mainly because he was still frustrated with caring slightly about you.

He couldn’t deny it. He found you rather attractive, your demeanor being a little shy but he could tell you’d warm up quickly. First introduction catches him so off-guard, your smile so bright and your voice as you say hello to everyone. ‘Such a pretty girl’ he thought as his eyes looked you up and down quickly. And he swears he thought he caught you checking him out as well. But seeing you so scared made him nervous to be in the truck, he wanted to grab you and comfort your worries away.

“Wow. No sugar coating for me huh?” You softly giggle an exhale. You knew he was right, it sucked to hear it though. “Cut right through the bullshit.” You further say and stretch your arms out to find some sort of relief. He laughs at you cursing, it was the first time hearing you curse and to be frank, it wasn’t threatening whatsoever. He found it amusing, you were cute. Especially because from his outburst your cheeks are flushed with pink embarrassment. “I don’t mess around.” He tries to play, a sly smile on his lips but you groan and put your hand on your head without seeing it. “I thought I could handle it.” You mutter into your hands, your voice sounding disappointed. Now Scott felt bad for speaking.

Quick on his feet, “Remember what Javi said; “You’re never ready for your first tornado.” You just needed to experience it.” You drop your hands down to the table and look back at the man across from you. His jaw goes up and down while chewing the same piece of gum. Staring at his lips for a few seconds before your eyes trail back to his eyes but there was a certain glimmer when your eyes connected, a smile curving his lips.

Gosh. You had no clue why every single thing he did made you have a visceral reaction. Simultaneously he knew what he was doing.

Food is placed down on your table and your mouth watered at the sight. Before you could reach out and take a bite of your anticipated meal, Scott’s voice speaks up again. “Be honest, why did you agree to come out here?” He manages to say before grabbing his hamburger and taking a greedy first bite. You shove a couple of fries in your mouth before answering. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Tornados, I find them so interesting and a strange natural occurrence. But from a safe distance, in my lab where I can do research rather than going out in the field.” Your stomach growls at you for not taking a bite of your burger that sits so patiently on the plate. “I totally agree on what you guys are doing, I want to help people too! I just don’t think I was built for wrangling tornados like you. Plus my boss dragged me out here.” You chuckle while biting now at your food. Already feeling better or maybe it was the company of Scott that put you to ease.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your way out of the Diner you are met with boots taking a long stride towards you and Scott. Those boots belonged to a flannel clad gentleman with a cowboy hat tilted slightly out of his face. He was clearly built and flashes a dashing smile in your direction. You could practically hear Scott rolling his eyes before the guy even got a word out. “Clipboard! I didn’t know they made scientists so pretty nowadays.” The man lowly whistles at your appearance, you quickly caught on to the ‘Clipboard’ nickname he gave Scott. “Get back to your YouTube channel Tyler.” He puffs out while sliding back his sunglasses. The cowboy named Tyler stops in front of you, quickly glancing between the two of you. “What’s your name little lady?” His voice is oddly sweet and not patronizing. You tell him your name and he softly repeats it back with a smile.

“Well then, come find me when you’re done working with a bunch of pencil pushers.” He lowers his sunglasses and sends a wink your way before walking back toward the Diner.

It was so quick you hardly noticed how Scott stopped chewing his gum and clutched down hard on his jaw, teeth slightly grinding. Turning to face Scott again, “Who the hell was that?” Your laugh pulls Scott out of his train of thought. Hearing your soft giggles at the interaction makes him almost forget why he was even frustrated in the first place. “Just one of those Hillbillies with a YouTube channel. He especially likes to throw fireworks for theatrics.” His sigh was heavy as he continued forward back to the Motel and not answering any other questions you had about Tyler.

It wasn’t long before getting back to your room. Scott dropped you off and went back to the rest of the team to discuss the 3D model, he hoped it was long enough to fully process and get a look at the models.

Following the next few hours held up in your Motel room, it wasn’t anything fancy. A small TV that frames the adjacent wall from the bed and a dingy chair and desk, the bathroom was next to them and was brightly lit by yellowed lights. Definitely not dreamy, but this was a company's purchase for the crew so you couldn’t complain.

You slightly jump out of bed when you hear a loud bang from your door. It started storming a little while ago and just thought it was a branch slamming on your door but then you heard another knock. You weren’t going to sleep but put on your pajamas and laid down to doom scroll on your phone. You're fast on your steps as you reach the door and open it slightly to see who was knocking. You were so surprised to see Scott behind the knocking.

“Well welcome back.” You greet as you open the door for him, gesturing for him, “Come in, come in.” You smile at him. You turn to go back to lounging on your bed. While doing so, Scott gets the chance to take on your appearance. A matching set of pajamas that fit your body perfectly, he swallows heavily at the sight. It was possible that he was so pent up from being out in the field for multiple weeks and hadn't been with a woman during that time either, now here you were. So sweet it’s sickening and so pretty sitting down on the corner of the bed, looking up at him with almost doe like eyes. It’s driving him up the wall.

His hands rest on his side while stepping in your room, closing the door behind him. He was slightly damped by the rain and wind outside, he breathed in the air around him. “So what brings you by? Is there another Tornado that needs to be chased?” You ask, slightly anxious to hear his response. He sees your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Oh, no. I just wanted to let you know that the model is up and running. Plus, my room’s power went out.” He explains, in the meanwhile he looks around your room, he also seemed nervous.

You nodded and were about to respond but he cut you off, “And I wanted to check up on you.” He stretches out the “and” like he was contemplating on finishing his sentence. You were pleasantly taken aback. It was nice that he was seeing if you were okay. You were flustered nonetheless and blushed. “Oh mister big and stoic is concerned for me?” You playfully jab at his demeanor, he’s quick to your mocking behavior. Again he slides off his sunglasses and places them in his shirt pocket, he hangs his head down and laughs. “Alright I’m going to go now then.” He teases back, there’s a small panic behind your eyes, you didn’t want him to leave.

“No- I mean you can hangout for a while if you want. I’m not doing much. You can wait here till your room gets power again.” It sounded just as pathetic in your head as it came out of your mouth, desperate to get more time for him. He caught on to it, “Yeah?” A small smirk crept on his lips. His figure coming closer to you, his large frame tower over you. It did something to you, “Yeah.” Your breathing hitched in the back of your throat, causing you to swallow down hard.

He was taking so much space, almost suffocating. “Tell me, were you checking me out when we first met?” He was testing the waters, what kind of response were you going to give him. Either it would be welcoming or dismissive, but the way blush started creeping up your neck to your cheeks he could tell. “What? No, I mean- no. Why are you asking?” You clearly flustered at his question and lied right through your teeth and it was so obvious. “Okay.” He bites down on his gum and smiles down at you. He quickly sits next to you and faces the TV. Ignoring what just happened between the two of you, riling you up in the process.

Ignoring the building tension, “What are we watching?” He nonchalantly asks, his gum smacking in his mouth. A smug look plastered on his face watching you try to regain your composure. Skipping over his previous statements. “Um… T- The news about the weather tomorrow.” You blink. He then reaches up and takes off his baseball cap, his hair ruffles out in some crazy hat hair before he shakes it out with his other hand. His brown hair flows softly down. It’s then you take in his scent, slight sweat lingers but you can smell his cologne, it smelt like an ocean side with a hint of sandal wood. It fit him perfectly and drank up the scent to fill your senses. This man was something. His cocky attitude, his demanding presence, oddly quiet demeanor. Everything about him was causing your brain to lag. His clothes cling slightly to his body due to them dampening from the outside weather.

You tried your hardest to pay attention to the television ahead of you, you really did. But with Scott next to you, the storm outside, y’all’s conversation. It was too much for you to handle. His white button down was a bit dirty from the chase earlier from today and now cling wrapped around his arms, chest, thighs. Your mouth watering again while you ogle the man before you, it was wrong, so wrong. Hell you were technically his superior as he worked for your company, but right now it felt like he held all the power.

Then boom. A loud bang crashed against the ceiling, the storm getting heavier. It spooked you enough to jump beside you, trying to find some sort of comfort and gladly Scott gave you that. His rather large hands are quick to rest on your shoulder, sliding up and down to ease your concerns, “You’re alright, it’s just the wind. Nothings gonna’ hurt you.” He shushes in a low tone which calms you down. Though his clothes are wet and cold, his body is hot. Feeling how warm he was as you pressed deeper to his touch.

Your eyes shift from being closed to looking up at his, then glancing down to his lips. He mirrors you, both of you leaning in closer. "We shouldn't." You aimlessly try to guide yourself back into reality but your body caves. His lips ghost over yours, “Can I kiss you?” He softly asks for permission, his whole body aching waiting for your response, but didn’t have to wait any longer as you pressed your lip to his. His other hand reaches for your face, cupping the back of your neck while his other latches to your waist. Practically pulling you on top of him. You gripped his collar to stabilize yourself and followed his direction.

He pulled you on his lap, finding it comfortable. Your hands continue to grasp on to get some leverage but find it futile in the long run. The kiss begins to become heated by the seconds, occasionally breaking it to pant out quick breaths. He was taking over all your senses. Making it hard to focus on anything but him.

Scotts lips leave yours and make their way down to your neck. His attention to make you feel more than comfortable was overpowering. Your hands have a mind of their own, snaking up to his head and gently pulling his hair. Your eyes screwed shut, he watches your reactions - to see what causes the most pleasure. His hand moves around your body, around your hips and butt, around your chest groping your boobs. That seems to get some whimpering out of your lips. "You're so pretty like this." He tells in your ear, causing a shiver to go down your spine. Your legs squirm around his, trying your hardest to find some pressure to grind down on. Your head rushes with blood, finding it hard to wrap your head around pleasure. "I mean you're pretty regardless, but fuck." He groans through his teeth.

You moan into his mouth as he captures your lips for another kiss.

“Be honest with me again.” You nod, slightly still ditzy after that heated kiss. “Were you staring at my arms earlier?” There’s a slight teasing tone- actually, more like a cocky tone. He was still on about this. You nod your head a little sheepishly, having to admit it made it feel shameless. “I knew it! You were checking me out! Thought I caught you, but I wasn't sure I was making things up in my head.” He barks out a quick laugh and continues to kiss up your neck, drawing more airy moans and some giggles.

“What, no smart-ass response huh?” He teases. And he was right, you couldn't think of any kind of response, your mind is fogged up. Mewing out was the only response as he found the spot on your neck. He continues to work you up, all while dry humping him, your pajama shorts riding up in the process. His clad trousers gave the perfect mount. His growing erection being more prominent and pressed tight in his boxers and pants, now with you moaning in his ear and grinding on him shamelessly.

You did try your best to quiet down, even with the storm outside these walls were thin and god forbid if any of you teammates heard what noises were coming from in your room, there would be no question what was happening between the two of you. But his hands and mouth on you made you uncontrollable. He thought quickly to fix this predicament. "Shush, baby, no more whining. Here - here" He coos, moving one of his hands and sticks his index and middle finger in your mouth. Shutting you and your withering moans up. Your mouth drooling over his digits. Your eyes are half glazed over, if you had the consciousness to see what you looked like you’d be ashamed how easily you were subdued. Falling under some sort of submissive headspace. It was so quick you hardly noticed it happened, but maybe you wanted this for a while now. Especially after the rough and exhausting day you had, you just wanted someone to take the reins in for you.

And now the pet name, you wanted to hear him call out for you with that every time from now on. "Look at you, such a desperate thing you are, huh? Isn’t that right baby.” You nod aimlessly, his fingers pressing down on your tongue. You were putty in his large hands, not that you were complaining. Your hands fumble with his shirt's buttons, at a sad attempt to take it off yourself. He thought of mocking you once again for this poor attempt but chose to lend a helping hand. Assisting with the majority of buttons you and him manage to take off his uniform top, catching a look of his chest you moaned again. He was cut with a light amount of chest hair, your sounds muffled with his fingers. It was hard to calm yourself, you were like a dog in heat, nothing was quite satisfying your needs yet. You needed more - more of him. "Fuck'n hell. You are just so needy." His hair crazed by your frantic hands, lips were bright pink, and eyes half lidded. Talk about needy, he wanted you with the same amount of passion.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a groan of frustration comes out of your mouth. “Please, please, please.” You aimlessly beg. For what? You and him knew, for him to finally fuck you rather than all his teasing. But Scott needed you to verbally admit it to him. “Huh? What do you need? Spit it out.” Again the condescending tone loud and clear, he does this to rile you up. For knowing him for such a little amount of time, he knew how to press all the right buttons. "Please, I need you." you mutter in his ear while closing your eyes and pressing your head between his shoulder that meets his neck. It was more like a whimper than begging but the overloading sensations were driving you in a haze. Still humping his leg, it was quite a sight that even left Scott to groan. But he can’t let you off that easily, that would be too nice. He kicks off his shoes and socks, preparing for the inevitable.

"By “I need you”, that really means that you want me to fuck you.” Taunting you even further, you squirm under his grasp at the boldness his words were. You nod your head, knowing your voice would betray you.

He acknowledges your approval and lays you backwards towards the bed. Your head close to the edge and him by the pillows, he rests on his knees. His body still covered most of your space, he was just so big. "First we're going to take off this little matching set." His voice sounds airy, your legs spread open to invite him to get even closer to your body which he gladly scoots in. His hands reach for the hem of your top and pull it flush off your body. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting your hot body. Closing your eyes at the sensation, you were quick to discover that Scott leaned down to give each of them a kiss. His hot tongue swiftly swirled around your left one, but he didn't stay long as he gave the same treatment to your right. You watch him, his eyes never leaving your sight.

His lips travel down your sternum to reach your belly, he peppers kisses along the way, all while giving you short praises. All of his words make you pant.

Reaching your matching shorts, he slips both hands up your thighs and grabs the hem to pull the shorts off of you. Once off, you were left only in your panties. A small spot clearly dampened in the center, it would be embarrassing to you normally but you were so aroused. He practically moans at seeing it. Knowing he worked for you enough. He continues to scoot back so he could comfortably lay his head on your thighs. He takes in your scent, fingers loop and starts pulling your panties off. You throw your head back from the anticipation, then a sharp swat on your inner thigh makes you pop your eyes down back at him. "Eyes on me, you better watch me eat you out." The tone being similar to the voice he had in the truck when he calmed you down, it was assertive and demanding.

You clench down on nothing and start to squirm, he rubs the spot he smacked and gives you a soft kiss, it felt like an apology. He breaks his gaze and looks at your cunt. It makes you a little nervous at first, closing your legs at first, but he tells you off. "What? You're shy now?" He tisks, looking back up at you. Almost like a warning. "You were just begging for me to fuck you." His words made you gush, you could feel how hot your cheeks were burning. Your voice squeaks, "I'm sorry." This apology makes him stop, "It been a while since she's gotten some attention huh baby?" He questions but already knows the answer, yes it has been a while. Referring to your pussy as "she". You nod as an answer.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take care of her and you." That cocky attitude shines bright while he begins his work. His lips kissing the skin around your desperate cunt. Some dragged out moans are flying past your lips, it really had been a long time since being with another person, especially someone who knew how to get you this excited.

Unwarranted your hips buck at his face, your body was fed up by all this teasing. His hands pin down your thighs, stopping you from future bucking.

Those pink soft lips finally make contact with your most sensitive part of your body, causing you to yelp. He found this adorable, already moaning. It was blissful, he knew what he was doing. Circling his tongue. Now and then flickering down to your cunt, your hips try to wiggle but his strong grip holds you down at his mercy.

Your hands go from covering your mouth so you didn't tell from the pleasure, to the comforter, to his hair to pull him closer. You continue to stare down at Scott as he does his work, trying your best to not thrash your head back and groan. But by keeping your eyes open you can see him grind down on the bed, he was getting off from eating your pussy. And rightfully so in his opinion, you tasted amazing, if he could he would keep you here for an eternity without any complaint.

While tongue fucking your hole, his nose brushes against your clit. Sending shock waves throughout your body, making you a moaning mess. Chanting his name with pleas and curse words. A tightness builds in the pit of your stomach, your thighs close his head between them. Keeping him in this position. Your back to begging, babbling out slurred sentences barely coherent with moans breaking mid way through and you losing your train of thought.

It was almost amusing to see you this unwired, usually you were a very punctual person. Now here you were cumming all over a man's face that you met less than 24 hours ago. A man you only know his first name, but Scott was something over worldly. Your voice pinches in a high note as your climax racks through your entire nerve system. Screwing your eyes tightly, blinding white light flooding your vision.

Hell, he almost came in his boxers watching you cum. Watching tornadoes for a living was thrilling but seeing you come undone with just his tongue was 10 times more exciting for him. Now he needs to see you cum again but this time in his dick.

Fluttering your eyes open to your own personal show, Scott lifted back and sat up right. He's focused on unzipping his pants unaware that you lifted yourself on your elbows to watch. Once he spots you, he pulls out his wallet from his pants and takes out a condom that was tucked in a sleeve. 'How cliché' you think. One hand pulls down his pants and boxer while the other rips open the condom wrapper. A simple act being so seductive when he did it.

Your eyes could contain themselves from peaking down at his dick. The tip was hot pink, pebbling pre-cum down his shaft. He was a big boy. You were practically salivating at the sight, he almost laughs at your drooling. He rolls the condom on swiftly. "How do you want to do this?" His voice piercing your ears, looking back at his blue eyes. You were puzzled at the question, he simplifies for you. "What position?" He states it obvious, but not rude.

Without a second thought, "Can I ride you?" He groans loudly at your words. But regains his composers, "Of course you can baby." He smiles, his gum still smacking against his teeth. You had completely forgotten he was even still chewing gum. He lay down on the pillows beneath him. His teasing manner doesn't affect you as much, you were determined to give him a good show. Meanwhile you crawl your way between his legs and settle to ride this tornado wrangler.

His chest heaves, he was so much larger than you. Your legs just about wrap beside his hips as you position yourself. Bending over his tall torso you plant a kiss on his jaw, leading to his lips. He kisses you with a passion similar to a fire, your hands drop to his chest to steady yourself. Pulling away and reaching below you.

A sharp hiss slips past his closed teeth, your hand wrapping itself around him. Your hands were soft, unlike his, the feeling being unfamiliar to him. You found pleasure from watching his face scrunch up. Lining yourself and making your way down. His large hands grip on your waist at the contact.

A choked moaning rips through your throat. Fuck it had been a while since you had a dick up in there and the stretch was unwelcoming with a full sense of pleasure. "That's it." He groans while his head is pressed down on the pillow.”Holy shit baby! You are squeezing the shit out of me.” A mixture of a chuckle and moaning follows behind his words. "Relax baby, let me in." He breathes heavily, lifting his head up. Scott's hands grip harder on the small fat on your hips. Stilling your moving till you start relaxing your muscles.

“I know, I know. Just a little more baby, c’mon you’re a big girl." His voice is hoarse. You could have come from that voice alone. You slow your movements, focusing on your breathing and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once your body's are flushed, your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You couldn't make a noise. Now was his opportunity to be a moaning mess. The way your cunt swallowed his cock was velvet, you were causing so much pleasure, he was almost lost of words. Almost.

"You better ride baby." It almost sounds like a threat. His unwavering pissy personality showed true and you couldn't say no, you did as you were told.

Lifting yourself up and letting gravity do the rest of the work. You started slow at first. You were still adjusting to his size, he was heavy in your cunt.

That slow pace was short-lived as Scott's hands dragged you back and forth. His grip was bruising, his jaw clenching down while watching how his cock is meeting together with your pussy. You looked quite spectacular from his laid position, your palms flat to his stomach, your tits bouncing up and down with you. The faces you make, filled with nothing but unadulterated bliss.

He's held on for the best he can, letting you get a couple of minutes for you to be doing mostly all of the hard work. But his knees bend behind you and he lifts you slightly above his hip. Then he begins his own rhythm to fuck into you, thrusting his hips and greedily taking you. Not that you were complaining. The air is knocked out of your lungs, ending up at a silent groan, helping with your noise control.

The incessant, slapping noise of him rutting in your cunt was loud. Though you tried to contain yourself, it was impossible that the rooms parallel to each side of you didn't know what was happening. The small room is filled with flesh meeting, heavy breathing, groans and moans. "Feels fuckin fantastic, you love this big dick in your little pussy." He can't help but voice his thoughts, unwavering. You wordlessly nod as he continues, "Huh baby? Fuck'n shit. This pussy is going to be the death of me!" He rolls his head back, stalling his thrust momentarily. Soaking in the way your cunt squeezes him.

Gaining more air to your lungs you can finally moan out his name, sounds like the angels from above calling out to him. if he could hear his name come out of your mouth continuously then it might just be heaven.

Again that tightness is winding up quickly. Even more intense than your last orgasm. Trying to shut you up now was going to be an impossible hop to leap through, yet at this point both you and Scott were so focused on each other and blocking the outside world, you could care less when your combined moans.

As your own orgasm was approaching, you could tell Scott's wasn't that far behind as you. His movements become irregular and his knees start to buckle from losing momentum.

It was all a blur when your second orgasm ripped through your whole body. You collapse on the 6'4ft man, your whole body shakes above him. Your head spins, it feels as if you were drunk. Definitely drunk on his cock.

When you come to, he is lifting you back to the side for him to pull out. His condom partially filled with his semen, he knots it before discarding it in the small waste bin by your night stand. The storm outside still roars loudly, you're glad you're stuck in your motel room with him.

He lays back down on your bed, "I think I just died a few seconds ago, I've come back to life." Scott exclaims, his pupils expanded to almost cover the blue hue, rather they were almost black. He really was coming down from such a high.

Shallow breathing through your nose before turning to face Scott. His face looks so fucked out, no doubt you look the same. His hair is wild and there are faint lipstick marks on his face and neck caused by you. "I haven't came that hard in months." You were still breathless from what he had done to you. "I can say the same." Dry and quick laughs come from both of you. “You made me swallow my gum.” You still try to compose yourself.

Both of you lay down under the covers of the Motels comforter. Lazily turning your head in his direction, you could easily fall asleep in his arms right now. He holds you close, his body warm surrounding you in a comfortable state.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stay the night?" You ask, similar to a plea. And how could Scott say no to that face? That was short lived, "I need a big strong man to protect me from the storm." He watches you giggle, amused by your own joke. It was laced with faux concern. "Only because your room has power." He pokes fun back. You were giggling at his joke.

Your laughter comes to a halt when the lights above you and TV shut of. f all of a sudden, causing you to jump back into Scott's arms. He's once again amused, "You know you're really jumpy for a tornado lab scientist." He quips back. You try to act hurt by his comments in hopes of retracting his statement for an appraisal instead, but he saw right through your act and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

You stayed together until the morning.

[lehguru]

CALLING THEM MY LOVE + STRAW HATS

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, usopp, robin, franky, brook + jinbei

warnings: not proofread + commissions are open !

monkey d.luffy doesn't even care about pet names. you try to call him out by using "my love", but he doesn't even look at you; he only notices you're calling him when you use his name or a nickname. "oh, what's up?" he simply answers, his wide eyes staring at you with obvious happiness and joy – simply out of seeing you there. everyone in the crew smiles at the obliviousness of their captain and the situation just becomes a joke. (nami asks if you need her to punch him till he acknowledges the pet names)

roronoa zoro almost growls at you when those two words leave your lips if you two aren't alone. it's not that he hated those cute names, he likes them, but in private; he knows that if you two use any pet name, sanji and the others won't stop bothering him, so he prefers to keep everything behind closed doors. if you call him 'my love' before bed, he will softly smirk at you and kiss your forehead, holding you close to his body.

sanji feels like doing backflips when you call him by any cute name. "my love, do you need any help?", he didn't need it, but as his body hits the floor, his eyes having hearts on them, he ends up needing help. he begs you to call him like that again, saying that it makes him feel all warm and nice that his sweetie is giving him such cute nicknames.

nami scoffs anytime you come up with a new nickname. "i'm not going to give you more money", she always says, her arms crossed in front of her chest. when she notices you're just being soft and adorable, she will press light kisses all over your face and woo at you. "you're s' lovely, baby! c'mon, les' have a date!"

usopp waves between being embarrassed by the pet name and being cocky about it. he can and will go "heh, obviously 'm your love! 'm usopp, after all!"; but if you do it in private, he will bury his face on your neck and quietly ask "do ya really think that?". no matter what, he will hug you and spin you around, laughing with joy at your own giggles. usopp will want to be next to you the rest of the day, doing his silly little jokes and telling you more stories to hear you laugh at him.

robin tears up softly after hearing you call her 'my love' for the first time. she never felt like that before; the straw hats make her feel like she belongs somewhere, but you... you make her feel something greater than that. the tall woman will grab your hand and softly kiss your knuckles, bringing you closer to her body so her other hand can rest on your hips. "you are my love, too." she will softly whisper against the skin of your hand, her lips forming the softest smile.

franky will immediately pick you up so you can sit on his metallic shoulder. "aren't you proud that your love is super strong?", he would say with a wide smirk. he would make sure to tell everyone that pass you two that you're the best partner ever and that he's so lucky to have someone like you – even if all crew members know about that.

brook laughs loudly. looming over you, he would start giggling and tease you a little; "yohoho? 'm your love! oh, my dear! i am truly your love!" he would pull his violin out and start serenading you, singing all the songs that he wrote about you. if you sit and applaud him every single timehe finishes a song, he will fall even harder for you.

jinbei simply smiles and puts his hand on the top of your head, cautiously so he doesn't end up hurting you. he resumes on doing whatever he was doing before, but your words would ring in his ears and he would remain with a smile on his face the rest of the day. at night, before you went to sleep, he would kiss your forehead and murmur, "goodnight, my love."

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used on them belong to their respective creators!!

[spider-stark]

A BOY'S FIRST PEST

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - Kaz Brekker thinks Per Haskell's daughter is a (very lovely) pest

Warnings - fem!reader, traumatraumatrauma, the woes of troubled youth, light mentions of blood and death, these bitches trauma bonded yo, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED WE DIE LIKE MEN

Word Count - 2.0k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Everyone knows Kaz Brekker put his own money into fixing up the Slat. 

He hired men to patch the leaky roof (though it still drips during a heavy rain) and put proper insulation in the walls (which keeps the house warm enough, even if it does nothing to muffle the noise of its occupants). He had all the doors fitted with working knobs (but easily picked locks) and ensured the kitchen was capable of making a warm meal (even if seriously doubted any of the Dregs knew how to cook). 

And while he would never admit it aloud, Kaz was also the one who made sure there were always clean linens in every room (albeit the cheapest Ketterdam has to offer) and spare clothes in every closet (sizes ranging from wafer-thin to barrel-chested). In keeping, he also takes it upon himself to keep the bathing room stocked with a steady supply of toiletries (because if someone uses his toothbrush again, he’s going to kill everyone in this place and then himself). 

Because of Kaz Brekker, the Slat was more than just a safe place to hole up. It was a haven, the closest thing many of the Dregs had to a home. 

But it did, of course, have one enduring problem. 

The pests.

Or, namely, the one pest—one that he could never quite exterminate (though the spider privy to the inner-workings of Kaz Brekker’s mind might argue the merit of replacing ‘could never’ with ‘would never’). 

Per Haskell’s very annoying (and very lovely) daughter. 

In the midst of Ketterdam’s hottest season, you find yourself lying sprawled on your back atop the dark sheets, clad in the skimpiest nightclothes you own: a matching set of black silk shorts and flowy, thin-strapped camisole. The air is thick and near stifling in the attic-bedroom, but you don’t mind it. You prefer being hot to cold, if only because the heavy weight of winter clothes makes you feel trapped, eliciting the urge to crawl straight from your skin. 

When the door finally swings open, you eagerly push up onto your elbows. 

Kaz doesn’t so much as spare a glance in your direction. He’s got one hand on his cane, the other shoving the door shut behind him as he limps toward his desk, guided by the bright moonlight spilling in from the muggy window. 

Your shoulders slump, huffing out a breath. “Seriously? You’re not even gonna greet me?” 

With his back turned to you, Kaz removes his hat and places it on the desk. He doesn’t look at you. “You’re in my room.” 

“Yeah—so I was actually thinking something more along the lines of hello,” you drone, lips pursed. “Y’know, that thing normal people say when they see their friends.” 

“We’re not friends.” 

A hand flies to your chest, as if struck by his words. “Um, ouch? Rude. For your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

Kaz tugs off his signature gloves and tosses them next to his hat. “I can always repeat it,” he says, so impassive you can’t tell if it’s a joke. 

Knowing Kaz, you’re pretty sure it’s not. 

You push up the rest of the way, scooting down to sit cross-legged at the end of his bed. It’s so much nicer than yours—the sheets softer, the mattress plusher, the smell so familiar and warm. 

If it were up to you, you’d sleep in here every night. 

And most nights, that’s exactly what you do. 

“Would it kill you to be nice sometimes?” you ask. 

“Not usually, no.” Kaz faces you, his weight leaned back against the desk, his cane propped against it. “But we both know you’re a special case.” 

“Is that a compliment?” 

“Not at all.” 

Your bottom lip juts into a pout. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?”��

Aside from the subtlest lift of his brows, Kaz’s expression remains vague and disinterested. “Regularly,” he deadpans, looking the image of austere melancholy. 

Your laugh comes so sudden it sounds like a snort. “I should’ve guessed,” you nod, forever unphased by Kaz’s forbidding attitude. 

This is the way things have always been between you. Ever since a surly twelve year old marched head-high into your father’s office to see if the Dregs needed a new grunt, oblivious to the girl beaming up at him from a lonely corner, weaving colorful scraps of thread into bracelets for the friends you’d yet to make. 

Kaz Brekker is dark and foreboding while you’re bright and bubbly; he’s rude and standoffish while you’re sweet and flirtatious. Some may liken your relationship to oil and water, but you prefer thinking of it as a carefully crafted balance—a yin and yang sort of thing. 

Kaz, on the other hand, would simply say you’re a thorn in his side. 

Fortunately for yourself, you’re not an easily offended thorn. 

The rickety floorboards creak as Kaz starts around the desk. His bare fingers trail along the varnished edge for support. His limp is always at its worst by this time of night, so you’re not surprised to see the flicker of relief that slips over him when he finally sinks into the chair. 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you work too hard?” Your voice teeters on the edge of concern, tracing idle shapes against the sheets with your nails. 

His answer is curt, and contradictory to the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “No.” 

Fumbling with his cufflinks—simple, unadorned things—Kaz rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Afterwards, he flips open the thick ledger laid before him, plucking up a pen and dipping it into an awaiting pot of ink. 

Kaz keeps track of the Dregs expenses in his head—a skill you’ve always found most impressive, since you can hardly do a simple equation without scratch paper. Still, he keeps the physical record for the sake of having something to point to in case someone’s ever stupid enough to claim Dirtyhands flubbed the numbers. 

As he works, boredom quickly becomes a chip on your shoulder. 

Your legs unfurl, bare feet stretching toward the floor as you slip off the edge of the bed. Every step is purposeful, traipsing toward him with a look that’s not so unlike a cat readying to toy with its favorite mouse. 

“Maybe we should take a holiday,” you suggest, your voice a soft trill. 

One part of you expects to be ignored, the other to be shot down. 

He lands somewhere in the middle. 

“And go where? His eyes remain focused on the ledger, dark brows drawn tight in concentration. You envision numbers flashing before him, adding and subtracting at the steady pass of the nib scratching against parchment. 

“I don’t know. Ravka, maybe?” 

“Ravka?” It’s like the word tastes sour on his tongue. “Why?” 

You stop just short of his desk, an answer instantly rapping at your mind. You quickly replace it with one that’s far less tragic. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Nikolai Lantsov with my own eyes,” you drawl. “Nina says he’s quite the looker, y’know.” 

Kaz sits up a little straighter, shoulders pinned with newfound tension. 

“Of course he is.” He seems to press the nib down harder, his disinterested tone bordering close to resentful. “He’s a prince—looking pretty is all they’re good for.” 

Your head tilts. “Well, he’s actually a king now, so…” 

There’s the briefest falter in the smooth motion of his jotting wrist. “I’m not taking you to Ravka so you can seduce the Lantsov bastard.” 

“And why not?” You reach for the tip of his cane, still propped against the desk, skimming a finger over the crow’s head. “You think I can’t do it?” 

The pen keeps on scratching, accented by the dull hum of the Slat’s perpetual motion—doors slamming, voices cackling. Your ego grows larger for every second Kaz stays silent, your satisfaction settling into a feline smirk. 

Simply, yet firmly, Kaz eventually maintains, “We’re not going to Ravka.” 

Your exhale is something over dramatic, laden with feigned disappointment as you huff, “Fine!” Kaz never looks up, continuing with the ledger. 

Abandoning the crow’s head, you swipe one of Kaz’s abandoned gloves off the desk, fiddling with the smooth leather. Still recovering from their civil war, you imagine Ravka isn’t an ideal travel spot right now, anyway. Not unless someone has a morbid desire to tour the sites where Saints met their often-grisly ends, that is… Besides, for all Nina’s praise of the Lantsov king, you’ve never actually had a thing for blondes. 

And yet— 

“I really would like to go someday.” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your other answer—tragic and rapping—crawls up your throat in a hoarse admission, “My mother was Ravkan.” 

That persistent scratching finally comes to a sudden halt. 

For the first time since he entered the room, Kaz looks up. There’s not a hint of pity in his eyes, though they gleam with solemn understanding. Your lips thin, pressing his glove tight to your chest. 

In the winter of your fourteen birthday, you snuck into your father’s office and stole a full bottle of kvas. Dressed in clothes too light for the frigid weather, you sped up the crooked stairs to Kaz’s attic-bedroom, pleading until he begrudgingly agreed to join you on the moonlit roof. For a boy who claimed such an aversion to you, he was always doing things you asked—even if he’d griped the whole time. You both gagged after the first sip of hard liquor. After an hour or so, the full bottle had dwindled to just a drop, your tongues seeming to move with more freedom. 

Neither of you had been prepared for the way the carbonated joy in your chests fizzled to something stagnant. 

I don’t like being alone, you told him, fiddling with the frayed strings tied around your wrist, the friendship bracelets no one ever wanted. If I’m alone, it means I’m thinking, and if I’m thinking, it means my mother won’t stop dying. 

You told him of the endless montage in your head. How at six years old, a walk along the Stave in your favorite winter coat ended with getting crushed beneath the weight of your mother’s last act of devotion, shielded by a body crumpled and crimson, shorn in the crossfire of unexpected gang violence. When you fell silent, Kaz drained the last drop of kvas and told you about a coffee shop near the Exchange. About a sickboat and a boy named Jordie, about a frosty harbor and an impossible swim that left him unable to bear the touch of another’s skin. 

When neither of you had any soul left to bear, Kaz chucked the bottle off the roof. You don’t remember hearing it shatter, and maybe it never did. Maybe it hit some hapless pigeon and fractured his skull. Maybe it ceased to exist the moment it went over the edge. The bottle didn’t matter. Not to you. Not when Kaz Brekker reached for your wrist, leather-clad fingers gently tugging the bracelets off your wrist. 

Don’t make a thing of this, he told you, stuffing them in his pocket. You’re still a pest.

But it was a thing. A strange, beautiful thing—and both of you knew it. 

“Fine.” Kaz’s voice—the rasp of stone on stone—drags you back to the present. He sits the pen down beside the ledger, a strand of black hair swaying with the subtle shake of his head. “We’ll go to Ravka. You’ll seduce some sorry prince and live happily ever after in a gaudy palace. I’ll make my fortune snagging the Lantsov Emerald and use it to hire a proper bookkeeper. Deal?” 

Your lips twitch, still hugging his glove to your chest. “King,” you correct him. 

His eyes roll, but a flicker of something warm betrays his affection. “Pest,” he calls you, though it doesn’t sound like much of an insult. 

“I imagine the Grand Palace has fine exterminators,” you muse. 

“Then I suppose your marriage will be short-lived.” 

“Will you save me, then?” Your heart leaps with the question, how it slips from your tongue before you can grasp it. 

Kaz hesitates. Then—remarkably—smiles. 

“Maybe.”

a/n - you know what they say. a bottle of kvas is never just a bottle of kvas, amirite

(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

anyways, i was procrastinating an essay and thought "lets write something with a somewhat ambiguous ending!" and voila, a boy's first pest is the product. now everyone say: lainie, go work on your original writing and stop writing so much fan fiction! (but i'm already thinking of a kaz smut drabble so) anyways, comments and reblogs much appreciated, i cry with joy every time someone actively interacts with my work so THANK YOU

[boydepartment]

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍩₊˚⊹♡ so what do you recommend? nishimura riki x gn! reader

250ish words- riki being a loser- engene reader working at a donut shop - masterlist

you stood at the counter waiting for your name to either be called to the back or for someone to come in. the chain you work at was supposed to be closed today but your manager asked if you could come in for this specific store as you guys decided to be open

to be honest you didn’t mind, you liked your job and it’d keep you distracted from the fact you couldn’t make it to a concert you desperately wanted to go to. you had the money to attend just not the means to get there, who seriously has a concert mid week? and in a place where they already go to every tour? it wasn’t that far but just the hassle of getting there and work. ugh it was just a mess. you really wanted to go too… you loved k-pop and concerts. especially hybe groups and especially enhypen.

unfortunately the cards just aren’t in your favor this leg of the tour.

you sighed as you watched out the window as people walked by the store, wondering who was going to walk in and ask for a donut. you looked down for a split second picking at the bandaids that covered your fingers from earlier in the day.

when the little ding came up you perked up. smiling at the two boys who walked in.

“hi welcome in! how can i help you?” you leaned against the donut case in front of you. the two boys looked at you and then at eachother. you took a quick note of the apparel

one was shorter than the other, denim vest, chain, a backwards hat that looked oddly familiar. when you took note of the taller one your heart stopped for a moment.

there was no way this was happening to you at work…

the taller one wore the absolute ugliest jacket and jean combo you have ever seen in your life, and he wore the ugliest baseball cap to accompany it. the unfortunate part was, you’d recognize that ugly outfit combo anywhere.

“um hi sorry about that- can i get-“

AUSTRALIAN 🫵

okay y/n play it cool.

the taller one who you assumed you knew to be none other than nishimura riki, hit the shorter one and stood closer to you.

“i’m sorry he’s dumb-“ the taller one spoke, “we have never been here before actually-“

“I LITERALLY HAV-“

the taller one waved him off and kept his attention on you. the closer he got to the case display, the more you could see the little mole under his eye.

“ignore him.” he said quickly, you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. he leaned against the counter next to the case display and looked at you.

“so what do you recommend..?”

was he trying to hit on you?

you put your hand under your chin and looked at him, throughly enjoying this and thanking the universe if this was real and not just delusion, “definitely anything with crème but you cannot go wrong with a strawberry donut.” you smiled at him. you heard riki giggle under his mask and his friend(who you guessed was jake) groaned, probably embarrassed.

“i love strawberries actually. i’ll get both though.” he said and you started to bag them up, you looked up at his friend.

“anything for you?”

jake walked closer to the counter and apologized quietly, “can we just get two dozen of the signature donuts too..?”

you nodded and grabbed the ready to go boxes behind you.

“actually can i pick the-“ riki spoke big jake interrupted him.

“MAN STOP MAKING THE WORKERS JOB HARDER JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK THEYRE CUTE!” he shoved him and got shoved back. you started to giggle again and gave them their total.

jake paying and trying to apologize for his friend’s behavior.

they quickly grabbed their donuts and headed out, riki wishing you a good day before running into the door and getting laughed at by jake.

you felt yourself look down smiling.

part of you felt like you were being delusional until you saw a little piece of paper near your sticky notes that you used to remember restock…

‘be back tomorrow by MYSELF- hope ur working-

my name is riki :)’

your jaw dropped slightly before you pocketed the note and was called back by your manager to help in the back. you quickly scurried to the back of the house and tried to hide your smile.

[buckys-little-belle]

Im scared to but my first Barbie, but I really want one! Sooooo bad. Can you maybe write Steve and Bucky meeting a she/her reader in the Barbie spot in a store and being nice to her? Maybe buying her a Barbie and some clothes? And they are just nice?

Barbie Aisle Buddies

Stucky x Shy!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Warnings - The reader is generally a worry wart so she has a bit of 'panic' and worry during this fic, it gets resolved by the end and fluff ensues after her worry.

Notes - I honestly pulled inspiration from a fic I had written a while ago about a shy reader in a toy aisle, so I hope it's okay that I made the ready shy. This is also pretty short! But also so cute!!! Also I know it can be scary going to a store and buying toys but I promise you it's okay! I have bought so many Barbies and Barbie toys like clothes, and I described a Barbie I own in this story! Don't let worry eat you up, go buy the Barbie! Trust me when I tell you it's worth the worry, having fun dolls that I get to play with and dress up is so fun and I don't regret getting them! You only live once bubba, don't let the worry get you down for too long! I hope you get a Barbie soon!!! <3

SFW - Keep all interactions with the post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n had been hyping herself up for a month now. Twenty dollars in her pocket, and a determined state of mind were all she had as she walked up and down the Barbie aisle of her local grocery store. It was a small selection of dolls, yet so overwhelming at the same time.

Some dolls had different jobs, chef, doctor, fashion designer. Others had fancy outfits or animal sidekicks. It was hard to pick just one doll, but seeing as she only had enough money for one doll, she knew she had to pick just one.

"Hello." A man's voice broke through her overthinking, a man stood just a few feet away, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, some worn out sneakers on his feet. He looked familiar, though Y/n couldn't place just where she had seen him before. "I'm Steve." He smiled, turning to look at the same shelf she had her eyes on previously. "It's hard to pick one, isn't it?"

"Um." Y/n panicked, trying to remember the excuse she had made up regarding why she was in this aisle. Did she land on 'getting a toy for a friend's kid' or 'I have a birthday party to attend'?

"Steve!" Another man's voice called out. This time a man dressed all in black, combat boots and gloves included, planted himself a few feet away. "Hi there, Doll." He smiled, Y/n couldn't help but smile back, the man's charm winning her over. "Which one do you have your eye on?" He asked as he scanned the shelves, hands crossed over his chest, looking at the plethora of choices like he too was thinking about getting one.

"Oh, I'm not, I'm just, you know, a, I don't, I." Y/n began stuttering, trying to get out an excuse, any excuse, to make them believe she wasn't buying a Barbie doll for herself.

"Dolls don't have an age, Doll." The man without a name chuckled. "If you're looking for a Barbie to play with I would suggest one that comes with a few items." He began pointing to a few sets she had looked at, but sets that were over her budget.

"I like this one." Y/n quickly grabbed a doll she had her eye on. She was a chef and came with a pan and what looked to be a fried egg. She had a chefs hat and coat, and looked fun enough, but the biggest pull was it was the only doll with accessories that was in her price range.

"She'll need some everyday clothes." Steve squatted down to a lower shelf, rummaging through some small containers for a set of clothes.

"I can't, I just. This is all I can get." Y/n smiled with a hint of self conciseness. Admitting you didn't have a lot of Barbie money to strangers wasn't the end all be all, but at the same time it still felt extremely venerable.

"Well, Doll." The unnamed man with a smile full of charm spoke again. "It's your lucky day then." He pulled the cart Steve must have brought closer to the shelf. "Pick whatever you want."

"What?" Y/n shook her head taking a step back, confused as to what he meant.

Steve was the one to speak up this time. "You don't know who we are, I'm guessing." His smile was softer, more gentle. "I was formally known as Captain America." The truth felt like a weight had been lifted off Y/n's shoulders, her happy to know that she wasn't crazy for thinking he looked familiar.

"And I'm his sidekick, Bucky Barnes, formally known as The Winter Soldier." Mr Unnamed added on.

"Oh." Y/n nodded her head, taking in the two men, even more confused as to why they were wasting their time in a local stores Barbie aisle with her. "Sorry for bothering you."

Y/n was ready to dash with her doll, worried that the super soldiers she just met would grow tired of her quiet demeanor. "Doll." Bucky called out, his voice commanding yet it still had a joking tone to it. "Come back here and pick at least four things."

"Buck." Steve whispered loudly.

"Steve." Bucky said back, his tone condescending. "Doll, please let us but you some dolls. It would make our day." She still hadn't turned around and had half a heart to run, yet for some reason she turned around and took a good look at the shelf.

There really were some sets she'd love to have, like the farmers market stand and a little dog set, and Steve was right, her doll needed everyday clothes. "You won't make fun of me?" She asked, worry surrounding each word.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Steve put his hand over his heart, an action that made her giggle.

"I'm Y/n." She finally gave them her name, a small smile breaking past her worried expression.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/n." Bucky and Steve said at the same time, the three of them laughing.

"Which outfit do you think your doll would look best in?" Steve held out a few options, letting Y/n ponder over them as Bucky tried to convince her to pick the Barbie camper as one of her choices, as if she had a spot for such a big play set.

"I like this one." She pointed to a package that help a blue dress, pick shirt, and jean skirt. The shoes were cute too, and she got excited at the idea of dressing her doll in the outfit.

So there they all stood, Steve and Bucky trying to convince Y/n to get super expensive things, and Y/n trying to figure out how she got so lucky to have two super soldiers worrying over her new doll collection.

[adverbally]

Pick of the Patch

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four prompt “pumpkin” | wc: 1,053 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: kidfic, family planning, A/B/O omegaverse (omega Steve and alpha Eddie), implied mpreg, minor angsting about how fast babies grow

———

The practical side of Steve’s brain recognizes how silly it is to buy a Halloween costume for an infant. Zachary is only eight months old; he’ll probably make a mess of it like every other piece of clothing he owns, and he won’t even remember the holiday anyway. Any money Steve spends on a costume is money that could go to buying diapers and groceries instead. It’s just wasteful, really. But…

Steve’s selfish, self-indulgent side just wants to see his child dressed like a pumpkin. Is that so much to ask?

He agonizes for weeks, looks longingly at the displays of tiny orange outfits every time he does the grocery shopping. Halloween is only one day, they’ll never get their money’s worth out of a costume. Except maybe they can use it again if– well, hopefully when– they have more kids. And really, can Steve put a price on the joy he’ll experience seeing his son’s chubby little cheeks peeking out over the top of a pumpkin suit?

He puts it in the shopping cart. Eddie can take it out of his Christmas present budget.

Later, after the groceries have been put away and Zachary has taken his nap, Steve tries the costume on him. It’s something like a baggy felt tunic, slightly stuffed to make its overall shape more pumpkin-like, with a black jack o’lantern face on the front. The accompanying hat is also puffy, with a short green stem on top. Zach, the easy-going baby that he is, doesn’t fuss while Steve dresses him, doesn’t even fight when Steve puts on the hat and matching orange slippers.

The effect is so adorable that Steve gets teary. “Look at you!” he enthuses. “Daddy’s little pumpkin.”

Not as little as he was, getting bigger every day. It amazes Steve to watch him grow and develop. Zach can sit upright on his own now, can babble and laugh and recognize his name and clap his hands. He’s got four tiny teeth and Steve’s nose and a tangle of dark hair like Eddie. He loves bananas but refuses to eat peas. He has a favorite toy, a blue dog plushie that he drools all over. He’s starting to become his own little person, with a personality and interests and everything.

“Do you know how amazing you are?” Steve murmurs, hefting Zach into his arms and kissing the top of his head. “I’m so lucky that I get to be your daddy.”

Zach shrieks in delight, waving a hand until he hits Steve in the mouth and giggling when Steve pretends to bite at his tiny fingers.

He hears the front door open on the other side of the house and grins. “You wanna go surprise your dad?”

“Baba!” Zach babbles excitedly.

“Yeah, let’s go see Baba!”

It’s a short trip down the hallway from the nursery to the entryway, where Eddie is shrugging off his coat and kicking off his boots at the same time in an impressive balancing act. He looks up when he hears Steve and Zach approaching. “My two favorite boys!”

As soon as Eddie frees himself from his outerwear, he reaches for the baby with gleeful grabby hands. Steve passes Zach over, then accepts Eddie’s kiss hello.

“I’ve never seen such a cute pumpkin,” Eddie coos, smoothing a hand down Zach’s side to straighten out his costume. “Your daddy got you this, huh? Do you like it?”

“Baaaa!” Zach grabs a handful of Eddie’s hair and kicks his legs, thankfully missing any vital areas.

Steve chimes in, “He hasn’t stopped smiling since I put it on him. Though it could just be that he likes the attention it gets him.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Eddie muses innocently, just to make Steve laugh. To Zach, he says, “Wait until Grandpa Wayne sees you, pumpkin. He’s gonna eat you up!” He punctuates it with a tickle attack, cackling evilly over Zach’s screaming laughter.

The sight is so sweet that it makes Steve’s teeth hurt, but he also can’t deny the lump in his throat. With Zach growing so fast, it won’t be long before he’s walking and talking and getting too big to carry and starting school. Blinking to clear the tears welling up in his eyes, Steve distracts himself by adjusting Zach’s cap where it was dislodged by his ticklish squirming.

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly.

Damn him, he knows that being nice and gentle just makes Steve cry more. He rubs at his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, just thinking, you know. Our baby won’t be a baby forever.”

“Yeah,” he concedes, “but we’ll get to see him become other things. A toddler, an artist, a soccer player. A clown, maybe, who knows?”

Steve reluctantly smiles at that. “A kid of yours? Almost definitely.”

Eddie keeps his outraged gasp silent, mindful of Zach in his arms, before becoming serious again. “You want another one, don’t you.” Not a question, just a confirmation.

His throat is so tight that he can only nod. They haven’t talked about it since Zach was born, but their plans included a handful of kids, at least. Of course, Eddie could have changed his mind since then. Maybe the sleepless nights and endless laundry and lack of sex all add up to something he doesn’t want to go through again. Maybe he’s happy for Zach to be an only child, like both of them were. God, Steve hopes not.

Instead, Eddie shrugs as much as he can while holding a twenty-pound child in a pumpkin costume. “I’m ready whenever you’re ready,” he grins. “Mine is the easy part, so I’ll follow your lead.”

“Really?” Steve is so relieved he can’t stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks, even as he laughs giddily. “Okay, as soon as my heats start up again, we’re going for it.”

With his free arm, Eddie pulls Steve in for a kiss. It’s brief but sweet, both of them smiling through it. Steve is so full of love and excitement that his head swims with it.

“Bababa!” Zach interjects.

“Are you ready to be a big brother?” Eddie asks him, bouncing him gently and kissing his forehead. “You won’t be the only pumpkin in the patch anymore.”

They’re definitely keeping the costume for their next baby.

[calummss]

Baby baby | Marshall Mathers

masterlist

summary: you find out your pregnant and tell marshall

pairing: fem! reader x 90s marshall mathers/eminem

words: 880

Positive

As hard as that slap from reality was, it was the only positive thing in your life. You were young, working a part-time job to finance college. Marshall worked many jobs to provide income but it simply wasn’t enough. You could hardly keep the both of you afloat. And now a baby? Where would that money come from? How would you be able to support yourself?

Your chest tightened as you held the test in your hands, the tremors making it hard to read the letters. Ringing in your ears increased the longer you shut out the world. Picking the skin of your lips leaving you with the taste of copper, you crammed the test into your pocket, stuffing the rest of the trash away and walked to the entrance of your parent’s house, grabbing your coat and boots as well as a hat and scarf to combat the harsh Detroit winter. Walking along the streets that were covered in white frost, baby names inspired by winter popped into your mind. All you could think about was the baby. Every person you encountered: baby. Every leaf: baby. It was all you could think about.

Arriving at the restaurant Marshall was currently working at, you walked past the main entrance towards the back entrance, surrounded by trash bags leaning against trash containers. You banged your fist against the door to be sure you’d be heard, your warm breath colliding with the cold air of Detroit, constant shivers trying to keep you from freezing.

The door opened with a powerful pull, DeShaum standing in front of you with a surprised smile. ‘Y/n, what are you doin’ here?’

‘Em here?’

‘No, hello?’ He crossed his arms, his playfulness obvious.

‘Sorry, Shaun, I’m just really fucking stressed right now and I feel like my heart’s gonna drop out of my ass.’ You rambled barely taking time to breathe. ‘I love you but I need to speak to him right now.’

‘I’ll get him.’ He turned around and walked away with only his voice to be heard, ‘Yo, where’s Slim? His girl’s ‘ere!’

‘Thank you.’ You returned the smile, balling your hands in your coat, your legs colliding together as you took steps to keep you moving and your body warm.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ Marshall arrived at the door with his apron around his neck, puzzled as to why you suddenly showed up at his workplace. ‘Boss said I got 15.’

‘Can we go somewhere more private,’ you glanced around the alley, ‘and somewhere warm.’

‘Yeah of course,’ He pulled you into the building, walking you past the kitchen and staff to a break room that was empty. ‘What’s wrong witchu? You don’t look well. You’re pale and look like your about to throw up.’

You stayed quiet, unable to say anything. Your heart was racing, your mind racing with thoughts so fast you were unable to comprehend most of them. The only thing you could do was cry. You stared at Marshall whose worry protruded from his eyes, eyebrows knitted at his hands were placed on both your shoulders. Tears started to well. You tried biting your lip but it was no use. Tears started to fall.

‘Hey, hey what’s wrong?’ Marshall pulled you into his embrace, holding you so tight you could feel the pressure relieve some tension. ‘Watchu crying about?’

‘I. Don’t know.’ You sniffed, wiping away your tears that never stop. ‘I’m scared,’

‘Scared of what, baby?’

‘Em,’ you glanced at him, taking a second to compose yourself, ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘What?’

‘I’m pregnant. I took the test.’ You gave him the test so he could see for himself.

‘What?’

‘It happens when two people constantly have sex.’

‘I’m not fucking stupid, Y/n,’

‘Sorry,’ you sniffed again, your nose blocked, ‘I’m just on edge. I can’t think straight.’ You tried claiming yourself with a deep breath but ended up shaky as your nerves jumped all over the place.

‘Hey, hey,’ Marshall cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. Puffy lids, wide pupils and doe eyes, ready to surrender to the stress that had been planted on you. ‘We’re gonna figure this shit out okay? If you wanna keep it, we keep it. If not then not.’ He nodded. ‘And if we end up eating pasta with ketchup for years to keep us goin’ and give our baby the things we didn’t have. We will be able to do this shit, okay?’

‘Okay,’ you forced a smile, not fully ready to accept reality. ‘Okay.’

‘You know whatchu gonna do?’

‘No not yet. I—I need time to think.’

‘Y/n, listen to me okay,’ his thumbs rubbed against the apples of your cheeks. ‘You’re gonna go straight home. No staying in the cold. Sit down, make yourself a cup of tea and try to relax okay? I’ma come back as soon as I’m done and then we’re gonna talk this through properly.’

‘Okay,’ quiet sniff. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘Good.’ His face came closer, ‘Stay safe baby.’ He pressed his lips against yours. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Wiping your nose you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and headed out of the back entrance, passing Proof as his gaze lingered on you. What are you going to do?

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Blue Flame - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

Frat!Rafe x Reader x Reader’s Best Friend

(Rafe is interested in the reader romantically)

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 frat!rafe, swearing, name-calling, drinking, drug usage, pet names (daddy, doll, baby, babygirl etc, degradation, threesome, rough oral, teasing, throat fucking, cum play, oral receiving (female), public fondling, ownership kink if you squint, switch!rafe x dom!reader x dom female, spitting, Rafe is more interested in the reader than her friend

📖 Frat!Rafe x Reader x Reader’s friend based off of the lyrics from “Already Best Friends”. College student/former stripper reader has a crush on frat president Rafe. When she calls a buddy in, during a frat party, they have a little fun 💕

✨ “That’s right… And in an hour, you and I are gonna come back up here, and you’re gonna give me a private show. I want you to dance for me, y/n. Then, I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress.” ✨

3K <- mostly smut

🎶 She brought a buddy in

“What you studying?”

“Education, that’s where the money is.”

“You think you funny, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m the funniest.”

“So what about you?”

Her friend replied, “I don’t go to school.”

“Okay, what you do?”

“I’m a dancer, and quick question, are you a cancer?”

I said, “Hell nah, where you dance at?”

She said, “Blue flame, that shit be jam-packed.” 🎶

Cali: where are you, babe?

YN: outside come out here please

Cali: whats goin on

YN: hot tub

Cali: say less 💕

Cali: anyone out there with you?

YN: that guy 🤭 the one I was telling you abt. He’s out here

Cali: Rafe???

Cali: oh shit

YN: you wanna have a little fun

Cali: always ☺️

Reader’s POV:

“What are you two up to?” Cali asks as she walks across the deck toward the two of you. The hot tub had cleared out, leaving you and Rafe behind.

“Just smokin’, sweetheart’,” Rafe smiles, fishing out a joint from behind his ear.

“Wanna join?” You ask your bestie, who’s already stripping down to her bra and panties.

Cali chuckles and roll her eyes. “Obviously,” she breathes as she steps in, choosing a seat on the other side of you, putting you right in the middle. Rafe flicks his BIC, blazing up a joint before taking a haul. He releases his smoke up high, puffing once more before passing it to her.

Cali accepts, taking it between her plush lips. She rips the weed, letting the smoke pour from her mouth. “This is good shit,” she smiles, eyeing it between her fingers before shifting her emerald-green gaze your way. “Well, thanks for the invite, y/n; I hope I’m not interrupting. The two of you look pretty comfy.”

“Oh, please… I invited you, baby,” you smile, picking the joint off her fingers.

”‘Course… Shit. The more the merrier,“ Rafe adds, his voice already raspy from the smoke. “And, this is my shit… It better be fuckin’ good.” He eyes the fat joint in his large fingers, his gold ring shining bright.

“Smokin’ out of your own stash?” You tease, sliding a little closer to Rafe than you already were. His eyes drift from your lips to your chest; your Calvin Klein bra almost entirely see-through, giving him a tease. You smile even wider when his next couple words get stuck on his lips.

“Umm… Quality control?” He grins, his hazed blue eyes matching yours again, giving you butterflies. “I’m Rafe, by the way.” His focus shifts to Cali.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Rafe. I’m Cali. So, you run this place. Huh?” She chuckles lightly, swirling her finger around, gesturing to the party raging around you.

“Yeah… I’m the president-”

“Ooooh, fancy,” she adds, teasing him playfully as he drops his position in the house. Rafe smiles and shakes his head, looking away for a moment to collect himself, then back to you again.

“Hey, you asked. Aight? I wasn’t gonna drop titles.” He takes off his hat, brushing his wet hand through his dirty blonde hair before putting it back on. You swoon, seeing more of his handsome face: a chiseled jawline, perfect lips, and just the right amount of stubble. Cali squeezes your thigh, either catching you gawking or agreeing with you; this man is fucking fine.

“So, Y/n, what are you studying?” Rafe asks between sips of beer, looking your way. “I don’t think I ever asked – I mean, obviously we’re in that Comm class together. Is that your major?” You shake your head ‘no’. “Lemme guess then, yeah?” He looks at you, joint pinched between his lips, doing his best to get a read off you. “Education?”

You gasp and smile, “Mhmm… Education.”

“Heard that’s where the money is,” he teases, his smile widening as he sees your reaction. Rafe lifts the joint up high as you splash him with a little water, flirtingly.

“Well, what’s your major than, frat boy? Communications?”

“Nah, princess. I actually wanna make money one day.”

“You think you’re funny. Huh?”

“M’the funniest,” Rafe chuckles raspily before taking another hit, passing it to you.

“I’m sure you are, prez,” you challenge him as you lean in close — really fuckin’ close. Your mind starts to race along with your heart as you find yourself closer than you’ve ever been before, barely clothed, and soaking wet. “Well, let me guess now… Finance?”

Rafe shakes his head ‘no’ and smiles, “International Business.”

Cali looks over at you, eyes doubling as she sees your damp bra, joining the conversation again. “Fuck, bitch.” She reaches out, giving your tits a playful squeeze. “You look good, baby. Doesn’t she look good?” Cali asks, playing wingwoman as she looks over at Rafe with a smirk of approval for the man of your desires, his eyes never having left you in the first place.

“So fuckin’ good,” he smiles. You rest the joint on Cali’s lips with a smile. “So, what about you? What’s your major, Cali?”

“I don’t go to school,” she breathes through her exhale. “College is not for me.”

“Okay – okay, what do you do,” Rafe questions as he stretches his arm behind your shoulders, shifting even closer. You smile up at him, seating your hand on his thigh, making him bite his lip to fight back a smile.

“I’m a dancer – I work at Blue Flame downtown,” she adds. “This one did, too, before she declared her major. Fuckin’ bitch,” Cali bullies, flicking some water in your face in protest for leaving her behind for a higher education. “It’s not the same without you.”

“I miss it, honestly.”

“Guess you’ll just have to dance for your man instead.” Rafe’s mood shifts instantly, making Cali rush to assure him. “She doesn’t have a man. Her future man, Cameron. I’m sorry, baby. You looked like you were about to cry.”

“C’mon now,” Rafe snorts and laughs as Cali continues to give him shit. “I mean, yeah, I got a little disappointed. Can you blame me?”

“Not at all… She’s perfect. She’s my better half. Truly.”

You lean in, giving her a quick, playful kiss. “Love you, baby.”

“Shit, so you two are really close. Huh? I didn’t see you walk in with anybody. Better half? So, are you like dating or something?” Rafe asks, his curiosity peaked.

“Just besties,” you answer, with a giggle that has Cali joining in, falling onto your lap. Rafe cocks an eyebrow, clearly liking what he’s sees. Cali breaks the pattern of the smoke circle, passing the weed back to you. She straddles your lap, chest to chest with you. You take the weed between your lips, taking a hit. Cali leans in, the aroma of her vanilla perfume engulfing you as she moves closer, holding back just enough, letting you lean in the rest of the way. Your lips hover within mere centimeters of hers, casting smoke into her parted lips. She inhales without hesitation, taking it all. Her darkened eyes drift open, matching yours, the two of you putting on a show for Rafe.

”Well, fuck…” Rafe huffs. “So, uh… umm. Holy shit. What are – what are the two of you up to tonight?“ Rafe fumbles over his words again, too distracted with how pretty the two of you look together, his fantasies running wild. Cali shifts back, retaking a seat, the whole situation leaving you craving more. More of her, more of Rafe’s eyes on you. It’s the perfect storm. You look up at him, smiling, baiting him into the exchange as well.

“We can stay in here if you’d like, baby.”

“I mean, we don’t have to stay in here,” he answers hastily.

“Yeah? N’what do you want, Cameron?”

“Seems like you got somethin’ on your mind, prez,” Cali adds.

“Yeah, I got a few things on my mind,” he smirks. Rafe reaches over, resting the joint between your lips. You shut your eyes, relaxing as you toke nice and slow. Rafe’s large hand rests on your thigh. You place yours on top, guiding him in between your thighs. You repeat the same process with Rafe, his lips ghosting over the top of yours, accepting the shot. He stalls for a moment, just enough time to exhale. The next second, Rafe’s lips collide with yours, making you moan into his mouth when he cups your pussy. “This okay?” Rafe murmurs against your lips.

“Yeah,” you pant. He turns his eyes to Cali, posing the same question.

“Yes – Shit,” she answers, giddily.

“Can I?” Rafe asks, switching his eyes to her and back to you. “S’Okay if I kiss, Cali? I just – I was gettin’ this vibe that you liked me-”

“I do,” you stop him fast. “I like you… I like this, too,” you smile sweetly. “Let’s have a little fun tonight. We can talk about it later. Yeah?”

“Fuck, princess. Yeah – Damn… Whatever you want. I’m down.”

Rafe pulls Cali in by the waist, pressing his lips against hers. A smile stretches across your lips as you eye the placement of his hand, still reaching for you, not wanting to lose contact.

”Do you want to…“

“Come to your room?” Cali finished his sentence.

“Mhmm.”

“Please…” You sigh dreamily as your fingernails lightly scratch his clothed cockhead, his dick rock-hard underneath.

“Holy shit,” Rafe groans. “Let’s get outta here. Yeah?” He asks as he takes off his snapback, standing up carefully, covering his hard-on with his cap. Water drips off his muscular body, as he steps out of the warm tub. He slides on his Champion sweatshorts, tugging on a faded frat t-shirt. Rafe helps you out of the tub, doing his best not to gawk as he grabs your dry clothes off the ground. You turn toward Cali, pawing the water out of your hair, ass swallowing up your wet thong. You tug your sundress over your wet curves. Rafe pulls you in by your waist as Cali puts her garments back on. He leans down, kissing you nice and slow. “M’gettin’ your number after this. I’m serious. Are you free tomorrow night?”

You smile as you rise on your tippy toes, meeting his lip for another kiss. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I. Shittt… Let’s have a little fun. Yeah?”

The man’s already on cloud nine and all you did was kiss. You twine your fingers in Cali’s as Rafe leads you to his bedroom before shutting the door. You look back at Rafe, his lust-blown pupils locked on you. He’s soaking in this moment, studying the two of you carefully, taking into memory each detail.

Your tongue slips between Cali’s lips, swirling with hers. “Think your boy wants to watch for a bit,” Cali mumbles between kisses. Rafe continues to stare as he walks backward, feeling for a chair. The two of you strip off your dresses again. You crawl back onto the mattress as Cali slinks toward you, making your heart race. Cali lowers herself on top of you, kissing you deeply as your fingers rake into her hair.

Your head rolls to the side, meeting Rafe’s eyes as he palms himself through his sweats. Fuck, I wanna see his cock. “Co’mere. Please…” He begs, thinking he could wait but getting too impatient. Lucky me. You reach for the hem of his shirt, practically ripping the tee off his big frame as Cali watches on. Resting your hands on his chest, you push him back down to sit. He looks up wide-eyed, waiting for you to set the pace. Cali meets his lips; their kiss, messy and rushed, mouthwatering nonetheless, conjuring up something animalistic inside you.

You fall to your knees, slotting yourself between his big thighs. Rafe’s gold chain glints with every quick breath as Cali’s nails dig into his broad chest. Your hands drift lower and lower, goosebumps spreading across his tanned skin. You skim your fingers over the divots of his abs, following a slight trail of hair working below the waistband of his Champions. His hardened cock is aching to be freed, confined in his tight boxer briefs. A desperate moan from Cali snaps you out of your daze. You finger the waistband of his shorts, drawing all eyes to you again.

You push his sweats down his thighs, quickly tugging at his black briefs. Cali can’t help but pull back watching his dick swings out, smacking just below his belly button. Her eyes double, just as surprised as you at the sheer size of his cock. “Fuck, daddy,” she mumbles, returning her lips to his, the two of them kissing feverishly as their tongues battle for dominance.

You take hold of his thick dick, making Cali swallow his moan. Flattening your tongue, you glide it along his cock, catching the precum rolling slowly down the side. Rafe pulls away from their kiss, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, more interested in the attention you’re paying below than Cali’s lips on him.

Sinking down, you take as much of Rafe as you can, his fat cockhead pressing against the back of your throat, making you gag. You swirl slowly to his tip, watching his eyes roll back into his skull. Rafe’s gaze returns to yours, Cali’s full lips marking his thick neck as you suckle on his throbbing tip. You start to bob fast, watching Rafe’s toes curl. Cali’s nails scratch lightly through your hair, taking hold of the back of your head. She guides you, using your mouth to stroke Rafe’s cock as she praises you, your trained mouth drawing out moan after moan from him.

Cali’s hand slips out of your hair, moving between her legs. She pushes aside her wet lace panties, head falling onto Rafe’s shoulder as she runs soft circles on her pussy. You pull off his cock, spitting lewdly before taking him back in your fist, pumping Rafe for all he’s worth. “You want him to help you, Cals?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, just the sheer request making his cock twitch in your palm. His fingers quickly replace hers, earning a needy moan as his skilled hand works its magic. You grab Cali’s wrist, taking her fingers between your lips, sucking hard. “Y/n…” Rafe hails, watching you in awe as you taste her on your tongue.

“So sweet,” you mumble. Rafe swallows thickly, doing his best to hold back pleasure as you continue to pump, lowering your lips to his cock again.

“Shit… I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” Cali whimpers.

“Me either,” Rafe moans. ”Fuck, baby. Suck my fuckin’ dick, y/n.” You wrap your lips around his head, hollowing your cheeks, making the muscles in his thighs tremble under your hands. Cali’s about to burst, back arching, eyes fighting to stay locked on you.

“Oh, Rafe… Just like that,” she cries as she throws her head back. The slick sounds of her cunt fill the room, along with Rafe’s moaning and panting breaths. Rafe grabs your head; hips pitching as he cums in spurts. You’re calculated with his climax, focusing on letting his seed pool on your tongue.

You stick it out showing Rafe his sticky spent before leaning into Cali, spitting it into her mouth. “Fuck me,” he moans, throwing his head back on the coach. His arms lay in exhaustion by his side, the most satisfied, blissful smile on his lips. “Best night of my fuckin’ life,” he pants as he returns his eyes to you. Rafe runs his thumb along your chin, catching the rest of his cum, before stuffing it in your mouth, letting you suck it off. Rafe presses down, parting your lips, spitting inside. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into with me, princess. You know you’re mine now. Yeah?” He smiles as he hooks his finger under your chin, closing your mouth, watching you swallow. “Your turn.”

Cali reaches around you, lifting your bra, letting your boobs bounce free. Rafe grabs your tits in his large hands as you watch his half-hard cock stiffen again. Rafe takes you swiftly into his strong arms, kissing you passionately as you reach the mattress. “Just pretend like I’m not here. Wanna watch you eat her pussy,” Cali whispers through a mischievous smile, crawling on the bed.

“That was the sexiest shit I have ever fuckin’ seen, Y/n, you… I have no words,” he mumbles between kisses.

“Yeah? You liked that?” You giggle breathily as Rafe smile stretches against lips.

“Loved it, sweetheart.” He tosses you down on the bed, watching with an insatiable thirst as your breasts bounce, mounting you fast. His warm tongue swirls your nipple, sucking and flicking your sensitive skin, making you moan and cry for more. Rafe works lower on your body, his eyes not lesving you. You lie back on the mattress, propping yourself up on your elbows between Cali’s thighs. She looks down at you, leaning in for a kiss. Rafe’s rough fingers draw up your skin, setting your body ablaze as they drift between your thighs. “So soaked, baby. Goddamn… Makin’ a mess already.”

Rafe touches your panties, making you gasp into your kiss as you feel the chilled sensation against your warmth. He releases a deep, sinful laugh, sending chills down your spine. You lift your hips as he hooks his fingers around the cotton band of your thong, pulling it down your thighs. Rafe grabs your legs, spreading them open, pressing your thighs into the mattress. “Bet you can’t wait to fuck her pussy-”

“Can’t fuckin’ wait,” he cuts Cali short. You can feel her soft touch, ghosting circles around your nipples, your pliant skin hardening under her touch as Rafe dips his thick fingers between your folds, spreading your slick.

“You’re so wet…” Cali praises. “Bet you could make a mess of Rafe’s cock, y/n.”

“Bet I could… Maybe he’ll let me clean him off when we’re done,” you smile.

“He said tomorrow, princess, after your little date. Or, does that greedy little cunt of yours need to be filled tonight, y/n?”

“You two are gonna kill me,” Rafe mumbles. His pleasure alone, enough to send you over the edge, embarrassingly close, feeding off of his high. You feel yourself dripping, Rafe’s tongue quickly laps up the mess between your thighs.

“Yes, daddy. Shit-” You sigh, unable to form the rest of your words as his lips lock down on your puffy clit. Cali’s small hands grab as much of your breasts as she can, pressing them together for him, tweaking and rolling your nipples as Rafe watches, longingly, moaning into your pussy at the sight of her toying with your tits. Rafe starts to rock his cock into the mattress, craving friction, dreaming about the nasty shit Cali was teasing him with.

Rafe takes you by surprise, looping his big arms around your thighs, pulling you close. He licks a fat stripe from your hole to your sensitive bud, making you cry out in pleasure. Rafe darts and flicks his tongue, watching you twitch and whine beneath him. The chill of his rings hits the heat of your inner thigh, working higher and higher, making your eyes roll back. Rafe slaps your drenched pussy, making tears gather in your eyes before doing it again. Your pleasure builds as he thrusts two long fingers into your soaked pussy, setting a fast gait, making your thighs quake uncontrollably.

He spits on your clit, working the pads of his fingers rapidly over your bundle of nerves, circling his tongue through your cunt, tongue-fucking you as you plead for your release. “Make me cum, Rafe. Fuck. M’right there,” you whimper. He buries himself between your thighs, suffocating himself in your drenched pussy. “Yes!” You let out a choked cry.

“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Rafe moans against your sex; the vibrations of his low voice sends you over the edge, straight into ecstasy. You scream his name, knitting your fingers in his hair as you hold him close. Rafe continues to please you through your orgasm as your release drips from your pussy, wetting his sheets below. “Good girl… S’good. Look at that mess, Cali,” he rasps. “She a dirty fuckin’ slut. Huh? Just perfect f’me.” Your eyes flutter open on his. Rafe quickly takes purchase of your lips, kissing you deeply as you do your best to catch your breath. “Shit, princess… I don’t think I can wait.”

“You can’t wait, baby?”

“No… No I can’t.”

“Mmm… What about tomorrow?” You tease.

“Unless you stand me up it’s happening. But this party is gonna clear out in an hour. Everyone’s gonna leave for the night, and it’ll be just you and me.” You smile up at Cali, your bestie matching your energy as Rafe continues to grind into you nice and slow, mumbling into your ear. “I’m gonna treat you like a fuckin’ slut tonight but you gotta know I’m serious. I wanna get to know you too.”

“Okay,” you giggle happily, making Cali cover her mouth to conceal her squeal of excitement for you.

“Am I your man, baby?”

“You’re my man,” you coo, cuddling into him as you wrap your arms around his trim waist.

“That’s right… And in an hour, you and I are gonna come back up here, and you’re gonna give me a private show. I want you to dance for me, y/n. Then, I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress.”

You smile, as your fingers trace up his back, scratching into his hair. “You promise?”

Rafe chuckles deeply against the warmth of your neck, his swollen tip teasing your soaked hole, doing everything but pushing inside. “I’m gonna ruin you princess.”

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post

@starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[jockbroski34]

New Year's Resolution

Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!

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Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.

I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.

I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.

I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.

He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.

"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."

I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.

"Look at yourself dude."

I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.

"You good bro?"

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.

"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"

I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.

"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."

He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.

I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.

"You feeling better, bro?"

"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."

And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.

We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.

"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."

Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.

After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.

"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.

"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.

"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"

"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.

[octuscle]

Gold and coal

Johannes was a passionate influencer. When he felt like it. Actually, he only called himself an "influencer" because it sounded better than "slacker" or "professional son". He actually made a good living from his parents' money, which he spent at parties, shopping and traveling.

"So, what do you think of my cute new hat? I found it at this very cool market here in Ankara. It goes well with the necklace, doesn't it?" There were fewer likes on the picture than usual. Comments instead. Critical comments. Why he suddenly has such a beard. Johannes grabbed his chin. He had no beard, he had no beard growth at all. And he had carefully retouched the picture before posting it on Instagram. There had been no beard. But still: the photo above the caption clearly showed a beard…

He would have to deal with it later. Johannes had a full schedule. Working out at a gym, which surprisingly enough actually wanted to pay him, a visit to a Turkish bath and cocktails and dinner at a trendy rooftop bar in the evening. Even though Johannes was a hedonist, he was usually well organized and punctual. But at the gym, his schedule started to slip. He trained harder and longer than usual. He felt full of energy. And the traditional Turkish bath and hammam were fantastic. He met super interesting people there. Surprisingly, in the two weeks he had been traveling around Turkey, he had picked up more Turkish than he thought he would. He struck up conversations with people and they got on with each other using their hands and feet. Actually, he should have been up on the roof terrace, styled and with a gin and tonic in his hand, when he left the Turkish bath with a real Turkish stallion. The two of them had shagged like Johannes had never shagged before in his life. Johannes' hair was still oily from the scalp massage. He was sweating. His stallion asked him if they wanted to have another cup of tea and a shisha. They did. And then Johannes was fucked again in the stallion's apartment!

"as-salāmu ʿalaikum, brothers! Today will be a great day. I'm going on a tour of the insider tips in Ankara with my brother Hakan today. But now it's time to pray. salla Allahu 'alaihi wa sallam."

There was a hail of question marks as comments. Friends asked whether he had gone mad. But he also received positive feedback. Because of his style. Because of his faith. These comments were mostly in Turkish or Arabic. Both languages that Johannes (or Yahya, as he called himself here) understood more poorly than well. But he recognized praise in every language!

Hakan and Yahya had a great day. In public, they were the typical machos, but Hakan knew the places in Ankara where there was good, hard sex. Yahya sucked a minister's cock in the station toilet. And got 200 US dollars for an obviously good performance. Enough money for a good evening in the hammam and a good shisha afterwards.

The apartment that Hakan and Yahya shared was small and stuffy. The housing shortage in Ankara was no different to anywhere else in Turkey. But thanks to their small extra income, they at least had three rooms. Pure luxury for two people.

For Yahya, Instagram and other social media were actually just full of sin and Western decadence. But of course they were important media for receiving news from his brothers. His own account existed. Nothing more. He followed a handful of fellow believers who posted frequently, but he didn't really have any followers himself. He still had an old account from his school days. His name was still Johannes. But he hadn't looked in there for years.

Working at the bazaar as a porter was hard and exhausting. But the bazaar was full of niches where you could earn money with services that his sheikh shouldn't know about. Although Hakan thought he had shagged the sheikh before. But Yahya didn't really believe that. But he didn't really care… The main thing was that he and Hakan had enough money and fun. They prayed for that. Not necessarily five times a day. But about ten times a week. If they sucked more cock, they prayed more often. And Yahya sometimes had to pray very often. He was grateful that he didn't stand out too much with his hairy body and bushy beard. But the blond hair was exotic. And many customers were willing to pay a lot for sex with a blond Muslim.

Yahya and Hakan were minor celebrities in the bazaar. Firstly, because they were oil wrestlers on their way to competing against each other for the title of national champion. On the other hand, because they were only simple porters. But they knew every corner, every trader and always knew everything. "Ask Yahya or Hakan!" was a common saying if you wanted to know anything. Or if you wanted a special service. But they didn't talk about details in the bazaar.

Pics made by @ki-kink

[likearhinestonecowgirl]

Deadpool Headcanons

cw:: mentions of sex and violence. it's wade lol

description:: goddess reader, wade is your boyfriend >:)

a/n:: wade and i are married irl so this is straight from the source

Wade likely meets you first. which is a nice way of saying he's been stalking you after having a legitimate romcom, slow motion, wind only in HIS (metaphorical) hair moment

once he finally introduces himself, your aggravation only leads (turns) him on

your way of cooing condescending, violent things as you accost this clown(?) sets it in stone - your the love of his fucking life

You shove Wade against the nearest wall. "I'm sure you're a.. special kid, but let's put on our listening caps." Your eyes practically pierce his soul, unblinking, pupils narrow and frustrated. "Go ahead." You release him and pat his head like an order. "On." You wait a beat, make sure he's listening- at least to the best of his ability. "Get in my way again and I will turn you into a fucking vegetable." You whisper yell, hardly realizing your nails are biting his jaw through his mask. "Thank you." With a curt grin and pat to his cheek, you saunter past him.

He grunts as he’s slammed against the wall, staring down at you with furrowed brows and a slowly growing grin. “This is not how my first dates usually go but I’m game.” He blurts out before you start speaking. He tilts his head at the mention of a listening cap, looking down at his hands as if one will materialize before you let him go. He blinks slowly and mimes putting a hat on before his head is shoved back against the wall at the force of your sudden grasp. He grins quickly at the fleeting feeling of nails sinking into flesh, chest heaving a touch before he mourns the loss of the sting almost instantly. As his skin stitches itself back together, he rouses himself from his starry eyed haze and starts after you. “How do you feel about Tahiti—maybe Turks and Caicos, I can’t exactly tan, but I feel like I can just sit out and burn.” He rambles, hot on your heels as he takes a selfish look of you before returning to the task at hand. What was it again? Right—planning your honeymoon. “How do you feel about hydrangeas, they smell like shit but, we could always settle for tulips.” He stops for a beat before continuing. “Fuck, you’re a great negotiator. Fine, we can do orchids.”

Wade is nothing if not good at wearing people down. that's how he eventually gets you to start laughing at his jokes, to smile cheekily instead of burning him with your stare or the venom in your tone

his personality is infectious and soon enough you two are attached at the hip

Despite his CVS receipt of red flags, Wade is a really good boyfriend

Wade is surprisingly attentive, but you truly are the most interesting, beautiful, sexy, delicious, thing that has ever graced his sorry fucking existence so how could he not spend his life fixating on you

he picks up on all the little things you like and goes out of his way to keep you smiling - only happy, fucked out tears are allowed for his girl

you can conjure up whatever you like, being a god, so his money is reserved for surprises - ringpops whenever the last is finished, food because you likely don't know how to cook (why learn when you can will a three course meal into life with a snap of your fingers) and Wade is banned from every kitchen for obvious reasons, and merch of himself with his moniker, name, and/or his symbol on it

Wade can be possessive and jealous to a degree, so showing you off is one of his greatest pleasures

if you wear his hoodie or a little pair of sleep shorts or panties with his name on it, the poor fuck will actually combust. should've worn his white pants

any time you go literally anywhere and meet someone new (ie dragging him along and making him pay for stuff) Wade takes the opportunity to make it known you are his

"Oh, have you met my WIFE?"

He beams to the cashier at the luxury store who truly thought they were about to robbed.

"Yea, she's my WIFE. We're MARRIED. It was a crisp afternoon and she threw me against the wall-"

All while his arm is secured around you, holding you to his side as he thumbs over your hip bone.

he'll likely say you're married before you even start enjoying his company. the moment you accept that unwrapped ring pop definitely covered in blood and lint, those metaphorical documents are signed. it's set in stone like the 11th fucking commandment. you'll be together forever

and you just go along with it. why not? being immortal gets boring after a few millenniums and this strange, poor mentally challenged man in spandex is pretty fun having around

the whole married bit goes on for so long you're not even sure if it's still a bit anymore

Wade uses the sanctity of your marriage in any situation - another guy with a gun on some mission copping a feel? "I'M MARRIED". someone brushes past him on the street? "I'M MARRIED". sees anyone look a little too long at you? "SHE'S MARRIED"

he'd kill and die for you over and over again. say the word and it's a done deal. that hypothetical guy who checked you out a little too long got a face full of gloved knuckles

want to keep his dick in a jar because Wade Jr. obviously brings you so much joy? say less. he knows a guy who can get him formaldehyde cheap

if Wade isn't busy showing you off in public, he's arguing with strangers on reddit about how you very much are his real life WIFE

ilovechappelroan: That's photoshop.

mercwithamouth1: it's not we took that picture together and her tits r real

webhead123: i think it's AI generated. see the blurry line where his cheek is apparently pressed against her head?

ilovechappelroan: Yea, mods should take this down.

mercwithamouth1: i have ur ip and im omw over she'll tell u herself WE ARE MARRIED and she will dox u bc she LOVES ME

webhead123: okay???? i already know where i live lol

"Hold this." Wade orders with a pouty huff and camera at the ready as he hands you a paper that reads i'm not a hostage don't ask me to blink twice

you two bicker and argue over random things (usually because you enjoy a reason to complain as it passes the time in your literally endless existence), but it's never anything of substance and usually under a veil of something condescending any sly

these stupid, teasing spats 9 times out of 10 end up with Wade soothing your brattiness by cooing little phrases and pulling you onto him in any way he can

"Don't pout, you're so sexy- fuck, I can't stay mad at you- what if I let you peg me?"

Wade doesn't mind this routine at all. it's just another reason for him to get his hands on you

he loves holding you, feeling the weight of your body against his - throwing you over his shoulder when you're being a brat, carrying you all day because his girl is "just too pretty walk", sat on his lap, chest, face (when he's been *really* good)

he'll do virtually anything to have you praise him, call yourself mommy and go on about how much of a good boy he is

he in turn responds to that comfort with a few pet names of his own - sweetheart, cupcake, the wind beneath my wings, my will to live or his favorite my future baby mama

nothing in the universe, not even the shittiest of writers he's handed, could take him away from you

he's content just having you, knowing you're his - BUT he does have a little fantasy he's shared a few hundred time of really having you. a pretty thing, a trophy who sits at home and waits for him to walk through the door covered in blood and guts. you can't go outside, it's just not safe out there for his baby, so he'll always be with you. dress you in nice things, show you off, shower you in affection, heed your every whim. you'd be slaves to each other

and why would you protest? sounds fun

[socialkid]

Imagine…

It’s a casual Saturday afternoon in the middle of June. The sun is out with mild wind, it was the perfect weather. And when the weather is nice like this, everyone knows to watch out for you. Because around this time, you’re shopping. Shopping, shopping, shopping. You run from store to store buying everything in sight. Most of the time with your money, which makes your boyfriend mad. He likes to pay for you.

You boyfriend: Bakugou who knows you love shopping. The days when you have free time, what are you doing? Shopping. The nights where Bakugou’s pacing up and down your apartment because you won’t answer the phone then suddenly, you come bursting through the front door with a bunch of shopping bags. He knows. If anyone knows it’s him.

This morning Bakugou had gotten a call and he was reminded that he had a day off from the agency he worked at. So when he woke you up to ask what you wanted to do today, he wondered why he asked, already knowing your answer.

Now you and Bakugou were walking through the strip mall, him holding two of your bags in one hand and his other holding yours.

“Are we done yet? I wanna take you dinner and we can’t be here all day.” Bakugou asked, grunting as he readjusted your bags.

“Not even close babe,” you said with a quickness as he groaned, “Besides, it’s only two o’clock. You don’t want to just sit around till dinner do you?” You asked him.

“Yea yeah.” He said.

You looked through the windows of the stores as they went by. Preppy, pink and frilly stores, tomboy stores, casual clothing stores, toy stores, and so much more.

“Where we goin’ next huh?” Bakugou asked, looking through some of the bags he was holding. “Hmmm probably Spencer’s, then we could hit up the food court for Auntie Anne’s, and then Foreve-” you stopped in your tracks at a merch store. The window displayed, shirts and hats of merchandise by well known creators.

Bakugou looked at you as you made googly eyes at the coryxkenshien merch, worn by a mannequin. “Y/n…don’t start-” your boyfriend was interrupted by you squealing and jumping. “Just go in the damn store already.” Bakugou sighed as you rushed in. Bakugou made his way in behind you slowly after. Not even 15 seconds later and he had already lost you.

He made his way around the store looking for you, and calling your name every once in a while. He got the idea to check by the Cory section. No sign of you. He checked the sections of your favorite artists and creators, still no sign of you.

He had actually started to become a little panicky. “Y/n? Where are you?” He raised his voice. He knew you were smart, the complete opposite of vulnerable. You could help yourself if you needed to. Even without using your quirk, you can handle anyone. But still, Bakugou wanted to make sure you were safe.

Bakugou had checked almost every area of the store and he had continued to worry. Before resorting to shouting your name he saw a section under a sign that wrote “Heroes”.

As soon as he entered, your voice began to fade in, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my goshhh!” Bakugou walked past all the merchandise: Earser Head, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and more. He finally stopped when he saw you gazing at a triple layered table, sitting under a sign labeled “Dynamite”.

There on the table was a clear representation of Katsuki himself. The black and orange shirts and pants, hoodies labeled ‘Dynamite’ in black and orange letters, and miniature sized Dynamite plushies.

Bakugou couldn’t help but grin a little bit when you turned around to face him, already wearing a baseball cap with his named labeled onto it. “Babe! Look! It’s you! Everywhere! Oh my gosh!” You said smiling from ear to ear. “I can see that y/n.” He said sarcastically, chuckling a bit, “Calm down, you can get what you want I’ll pay for it.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up everything that had his name on it. Hoodies, tank tops, hats, water bottles, stuffed plushies, fake tattoos, etc. You also stashed a few items by Shoto, Red Riot, and even one or two Deku items.

You were so excited for your items. So excited you didn’t pay attention to the shocked face of the cashier ringing up all the Dynamite merchandise, as she looked at Dynamite behind you.

After that nothing else in the mall seemed interesting. At this point you were ready to go home before dinner and check out your man’s merch.

After that day, you made sure to put your items to use. You were always flaunting your boyfriend and you made sure everybody knew it.

One night your boyfriend had called you up and asked if he could sleepover at your apartment. And when he arrived he was meet with you, wearing an oversized Dynamite shirt. He couldn’t help his intentions that night. And when everything was done, you cuddled up next to your Dynamite plushie and your life sized Dynamite.

“You love me don’t you?” Bakugou asked, you could practically hear his grin.

“Yup, both of you.”

[kaiser1ns]

DNA ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ AVENTURINE X FEM!READER .ᐟ our meeting is a mathematical formula, a religious law, a cosmic order. proof of the destiny given to me, you are the source of my dreams.

GO TO THE EVENT MASTERLIST

It wasn't every day that Aventurine didn't text you, call you, or send you bouquets ... and surprisingly, there wasn't a day when he didn't even send you money like he always does out of nowhere so you could spoil yourself.

Not every day was your birthday, which you so wanted to spend with him, but apparently he didn't want to. You didn't want to spend such a nice day alone, and not anywhere but Penacony — the planet of dreams, and your dream, or rather wish, was that he just be here with you. From the day the universe was born аnd beyond the infinite centuries. We were probably together in a previous life and in the next because we will be together forever… His words now sound like empty promises.

Getting up and starting to dress up, suddenly as you put on your lipstick, the bell rang which startled you so it went outside the outline of your lips and there was a big red line. Perfect, not only is your lover driving you nuts, but now your makeup is too.

You hope whoever is looking for you, brings gifts. Opening the door there was absolutely no one when you looked around until you gazed down and saw a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers as you picked them up you saw a small white envelope. Looking around one last time as you went back and placed the bouquet on the table, you unfolded the letter, and the card read the following.

This is the emotion they call love because, from the very beginning, my heart runs to you, and just like the flowers you are only blooming for me.

There was no name or signature, just this message written in very beautiful handwriting you don't recognize. But you are not that dense, it's probably from him trying to compensate somehow because it was late in the evening already and there was no trace of what you could call the man of your dreams. Or maybe he was just a dream now? You won’t be surprised if he was.

Your phone buzzed as you got a message from Dr. Ratio, a good friend of yours, telling you to meet him at a specific address. Oddly, he gives you the location as a solution to a math problem. Why the sudden need for cryptic puzzles? Solving equations is the last thing on your mind right now... but you get the answer and, having dressed up for the occasion, decide it’s worth going.

When you reach the destination, you expect to find the purple-haired genius himself—but instead, you’re greeted by someone entirely different. Your lover stands there, idly playing with a poker chip, his eyes already knowing you’re approaching. He listens to the echo of your heels, flipping the chip in the air, catching it in his hand as he finally turns to look at you.

Neither of you says a word at first. He smirks, removing his hat, What a gentleman, you thought, and takes your hand. “The game’s not over yet. Trust me, this is a guaranteed win.” With a sly smile, he places the chip in your hand. Had he really spent all day at the casino, sending flowers for practically no reason?

“Aventurine, are you serious right now?” You can't hide the anger and disappointment as you toss the chip to the ground. He just watches you, observing you intently as always. “No calls, no texts, no you all day, and then you send me flowers like it’s nothing—”

He chuckles, clearly entertained by your reaction, finding you just as adorable as ever. “What’s so funny?”

“The bigger the risk, the better the reward, darling.” His arm slides around your waist, pulling you close. It’s only then that you take in your surroundings: an elegantly decorated room with an enormous Happy Birthday sign. Every detail exudes luxury.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases. For a moment, you’re speechless. And then, regaining your composure, you smack him lightly on the arm. “So, you ignored me on purpose?” He lets out a playful ow, quickly followed by his gentle laughter. “Stop laughing! Nothing about this is funny! You should be ash—”

“Don't worry, love. All of this is not a coincidence,” he says removing a strand from your hair and then gently caressing your cheek with his gloved hand, leaning in closer and you could feel the way his eyes held all the love in the whole wide world made you forget about earlier, about the reason you were mad at him in the first place, not when you closed the distance too.

“Happy Birthday, my beloved darling…” his lips finally met yours and it was like the first time you shared a kiss, love at first sight as if you were meant to be. Your meeting is a mathematical formula, a religious law, a cosmic order. Proof of the destiny given to him by the Aeons, you are the source of his dreams, the only true lovers.

©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.