#ooc; it's ya girl kei!!

[selfishdoll]

LITTLE MISS PERFECT FT. EREN YEAGER ୨୧ ｡ ⟡

⠀ ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 it was just your luck that a coworker you simply couldn’t stand figured out your side gig as a bottle girl.

❛content warning(s)...❜ ━━ ooc eren (this is my first time writing for him) | reader & eren argue but it’s really unresolved sexual tension | eren is a tease | they are both 21+ | porn with minimal amounts of plot | pet names (mama, pretty, sweetheart, etc) | reader calls eren a stalker | semi-public sex | buzzed(?) sex | ass slapping | eren likes eye contact | service dom (?) eren | he has shoulder length hair | orgasm denial (like twice) | throat holding | etc. if i forgot something let me know.

❛author’s note...❜ ━━ i’ve never written for eren before so don’t clown me yall— also i know little about bottle girls so also don’t clown me, i just like the way they look.

You were delicate and careful, assuring the oddly shaped makeup tool was setting the makeup perfectly. You couldn’t afford to mess up or restart your routine— you were already three minutes behind schedule.

“Damn you Yeager..” You mumbled to yourself, glossed and lined lips pulled into a subtle frown. Why exactly were you forced to work with him? With that.. absolutely annoying man child? His temper was too much for you at times, and the way he just loved questioning just about everything— God, some days you believed your supervisor purposely set you two to work together.

So it was no surprise you two got into an usual spout; for what, you can’t even remember. You simply remember your gaze fixated on his — dare you say — handsome features, absolute venom escaping your plump lips. Words faltering every single time you saw his own jade colored gaze fall to your lips.

You could not stand Eren Yeager no matter how much he made you weak at the knees.

You tossed the tool to the side, rising from your vanity whilst grabbing the bottle of setting spray. Closing your eyes, you quickly sprayed your beat face, assuring to get every inch. Having it run in the middle of your shift was something you wanted to avoid.

You slammed the bottle down once you were done, stepping back and glancing at yourself in the mirror. French white nails carefully plucked the curls of your burgundy colored lace, nodding at the way they fell so pleasantly around your features. The second thing to critique was your outfit; a mesh sleeveless romper that had several splits between your cleavage and was just dark enough it covered your bottom half. Your eyes traced yourself for a split moment, finally nodded once satisfied.

Grabbing your bag, phone, and keys— you rushed out of your apartment after locking the door.

You reached the night club you work at about ten minutes late, your close friend luckily getting most things ready before your arrival. Once arriving you cleaned up your sections, assuring the tables were spotless and booths were in proper order. Finishing that task you moved towards the locker room to touch up yourself, spritzing your body with a sweet perfume whilst your friend separated your curls.

“You and that Eren guy should just fuck and get it over with.”

You scoffed at her words, placing your perfume away; going for your lipgloss next. “I’d rather chew on glass.” You murmured softly, gliding the stick substance across your two-toned lips. Fuck Eren? He was easy on the eyes, sure— but not easy anywhere else. As said before, you couldn’t stand him. And you highly doubt you would stand him enough to sleep with him.

You heard your friend sigh, releasing your hair to walk around and face you. “I don’t know.. it just sounds like unresolved tension or something— ya know?” Her lips curled at the deadpanned expression that crossed your features, gaze watching you hurriedly place your things away.

“C‘mon our sections may be filling up.”

“Don’t ignore me, [Name]!”

The night continued as pure usual, you lifting large bottles of alcohol ranging from Hennessy to Pink Whitney and much more; over to your booths, flashing forced smiles and moving your hips to the beat of the music. The multicolored lights reflected off your sun-kissed highlighting each feature you had.

At certain tables a customer would get up and dance with you and the other girls; causing your smile to worsen but otherwise continue the service with no issues.

That was how your shift as a bottle girl was supposed to go. No issues, just simple adult fun.

Until you reached a certain table.

You walked over as pure usual, pearly whites on display account of the glossed smile stretching your features. Sauntering over with a notepad, you gave your usual winning pitch; attempting to persuade the customers to buy the most expensive alcohol to assure the best experience — usual customer service nonsense.

Except as your eyes cased the table surrounded by men, your gaze settled upon a certain one. One whose own gaze was fixated onto you. A rather, familiar gaze.

“Ma’am?”

You cleared your throat, eyes blinking over to a man with light ash-brown hair. “Ye—yes, have you decided what you wanted to order?” You questioned, smile becoming even more forceful the moment you noticed a smirk from your peripherals. You barely registered the order that escaped his lips, scribbling upon your notepad quickly whilst the other men chimed in with their own requests.

“Okay, I’ll be right back!” You spoke, spinning on your heels and basically rushing towards the bar. You stood behind it, eyes tracing the many bottles lining the case. It took a moment to find what you were looking for, stepping back a bit before a small ah fell from your lips, approaching a case. You pulled the large bottle of Gin from its rightful place, turning and jumping the minute your focused gaze landed on someone else’s.

“Hey [Name]..” Was the cool words that escaped Eren fucking Yeager, lips curled into the most subtle grin. You took in a deep breath, placing the bottle down and turning to search for another.

“Sir, the whole point of a bottle girl service is I bring the drinks to you. You have no need to approach the bar.”

“There’s no rules stating I can’t though, right?”

You gritted your teeth a bit, noticing the clear amusement circling his tone. Grabbing a bottle of cream liquor you turned once again, placing it down with a little more force. “Eren, would you fuck off? Save your taunting for another time, i’m trying to work!”

The man tilted his head, strays from his messy bun intruding on his face. “I didn’t come over here to taunt, [Name]. I was just..” He trailed off for a moment, lips curling into an even more prominent grin. “Surprised little miss perfect had a job such as this. Didn’t seem like your style.”

You rolled your eyes a little, grabbing a few shot glasses and placing them on a tray. “Well, everyone has their side hustles..” You murmured softly, beginning to pour a few shots— grumbling the moment ring covered fingers lifted one. You settled the bottle down once you were finished, eyes focusing back to the man infront of you. “You gonna blab to the whole office you saw me working here?”

You weren’t ashamed to be a bottle girl, if anyone asked you were more than happy to share. However, that didn’t excuse the fact you enjoyed keeping your private life.. well, private. You could just imagine the annoyance it would be with such information circling your “normal” workplace.

“No.” Eren began slowly, lifting the glass to his lips and taking the shot. His tongue glided across his bottom lip after pulling the glass away, placing it back down on the tray. “I’d much rather keep you all to myself.” His eyes flicked between your eyes and lips, enjoying the perplexed expression that crossed your face.

Eren rose away from the bar with a soft hum shortly after. “See you at the table..” He dragged giving you one last look before stalking off towards his section.

Leaving you the perfect mixture of confused and heated.

The rest of the night continued without a hitch. Except his eyes followed your every move. From you walking over with the shots, hips rocking along to the harsh beats of the music blasting — to you dancing beside the other bottle girls.

You tried to ignore it all, tried to focus on anything but him. But, you found your eyes trailing over to his own constantly— spotting his pretty lips lift into a smile.

Suffice to say, you were a little distracted for the remainder of the night.

And several others down the line.

Your schedule was so you worked Friday-Sunday, taking up a shift once in a while as a favor. Either the man had guessed your schedule or he asked because every other Saturday Eren and his friends were seated at your section; his eyes never leaving your form the entire time.

The second time he came in you remarked it as a coincidence, but the fourth? Yeah, you were sure the man was messing with you. Especially since he acted so normal at work; still as combative, and still as annoying.

It was boggling, you constantly questioning Eren’s motives. It’s not like he ever got extremely drunk; settling for a shot or two. Was he really just here to watch you? To antagonize you? To approach the bar each time you walked off just to speak or compliment what you were wearing?

You sighed heavily the moment familiar footsteps followed you back to the bar, walking around the counter; thankful it placed distance between you and the man. “You’re starting to act like a stalker, Yeager.” You mumbled, grabbing a bottle of Hennessy. You heard the barstool squeak the moment he sat on it, turning to spot his ringer covered fingers tapping against the sleek marble.

“Gonna have the bouncer throw me out?” He questioned, green gaze looking at you through pretty lashes. The moment you turned away silently Eren was smiling, tongue gliding across his lips. “Guess not..”

You tried to ignore him, you really did; attempting to focus on your shaky hands pouring the usual seven glasses resting your tray— not even batting an eye when he grabbed one without asking.

“You look nice tonight..” Eren spoke lowly, eyes not so shamelessly tracing over the black attire you wore; a black leather skirt, with a mesh halter top, a silver necklace hanging accompanying the outfit.

You rolled your eyes a little, reaching for another bottle. “You say that every single time you see me.”

“And I mean it— every single time.” He countered, placing the now empty glass down.

You could only blink at the man for a moment, completely forgetting the drinks as a heat covered your entire body. Your eyes fell to the bar, lip caught between your teeth as the softest stammer escaped you; “Why do you keep coming here? To compliment and watch me? You don’t even get drunk like your friends do.”

The words settled in the air for a while, Eren silent— his eyes focused completely on you; an intense stare you avoided. Moments passed before the man spoke again;

“I’d much rather show you, why I keep coming here.”

His lips were hot against your own, body flush against you whilst pushing your back into the cool bathroom wall. Eren’s large hands remained on your waist, pulling you into him each time you attempted to back away. Why exactly? Because he was so overwhelming. His taste, tongue, smell— all of it muddling your brain far too quickly, rendering you into putty he could so easily play with.

You were finally able to pull back from the kiss, when he needed air, pants flowing from your lips; lipgloss a mess with your mixed salvia tainting your mouth. The hands on Eren’s shoulders gripped the cream colored longsleeve he wore the moment his lips pressed against your neck, breath quickening as he sucked a kiss into your skin.

The events leading up to now were a complete blur, Eren uttering such words and suddenly leading you into the woman’s bathroom; locking the door the second the two of you entered. After that well.. you found yourself against the wall by the sink, Eren’s hands situated on your form to assure you didn’t move an inch away.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to.

It seemed he got bored of your neck quickly, rising back up to steal your lips in another kiss. You moaned against his mouth the moment his fingers gripped your waist, switching you around to place you onto the counter. Your legs naturally opened, Eren taking this moment to step between them, smoothing his hand down to your exposed skin.

You pulled back, hands rising to his hair quickly to tug the moment he tried to go for another kiss. “Let me breathe, Eren— fuck..” You gasped out, watching a smirk pull his lips which were stained with your gloss.

“Then breathe.” He spoke, leaning close and pressing his forehead against your own. Despite his allowance, you couldn’t; feeling his hand travel between your legs, tracing your inner thigh for a moment before moving farther. Eren’s other hand moved to your lower back, keeping you in place while his thumb pressed against your thinly covered pussy, brushing at the wet spot slowly starting to form.

“Already a mess down here, huh?”

“Eren, quit it..” You drawled, legs gripping his waist the moment his thumb pushed to find your covered clit, rubbing the little bud the moment he did.

A soft chuckle flowed from his lips right into your ear, lips tracing the delicate shell just to feel you shiver. “Quit what? Quit touching you?.. quit talking?—“ Eren murmured, pushing your panties to the side, exposing your pretty cunt to his fingers. “Either one, you don’t want me to stop at anyway. Not with how fucking wet you are for me.” He spoke, fingers gliding up and down your slick slit whilst his thumb pressed harder against your little bud.

Your legs widened, trembled— hands gripping his shirt and moaning the moment two thick digits pushed inside your awaiting entrance. Your walls clenched around his fingers, gasping as they pushed in and out of you so easily. He was down to the knuckle, reaching far deeper then your own fingers. The squelches of your messy cunt was drowned out by your own sweet moans, head pressed against the mirror behind you whilst your hand fell to his forearm; feeling his muscles twitch with each thrust of his fingers.

Eren pulled back from your ear to instead plant his lips against yours again, pace quickening. His fingers pushed against the rough spot within you, gummy walls sucking his fingers in each time it dragged in and out of you.

Your moans were muffled, eyes pinched closed with a tight band forming in your lower stomach. You were shaking at this point; breaking the kiss to allow sharp whines to escape your swollen lips. Your pussy was spasming around his digits, hips rocking to meet each thrust.

Eren took in your form, sucking in a breath as he felt his cock strain against his pants. You were so fucking close; your walls greedily sucking him in, your plump stomach rolling with each arch— fuck, from just his fingers you were already in such a state.

He sucked his teeth a bit, withdrawing his fingers before you could even reach your peak. Your eyes flew open at this, shaky gaze focusing onto Eren.

“Eren why’d y—“ Eren came close, cutting off your words with a gentle hand on your throat and lifting you away from leaning on the mirror.

“Whining over nothing… you’ll come baby, just wait.” Eren spoke, hands falling to your thighs and pulling you towards the edge of the counter. Once there, he stepped back to push his boxers and pants down to his thighs; allowing his length to spring out.

He was nice and thick, long too— tip resting just below his belly button, adoring minimal hair. You weren’t given much time to gawk before he was coming close, hands falling to your hips and pressing the crown of his cock against your wet slit.

Slowly, he glided his length up and down your wetness; coating himself in your arousal. Each time his tip bumped against your clit you were twitching, white nails digging into his shoulders while your hips moved for more friction.

Finally after what seemed like hours but was nothing more then agonizing seconds, Eren was slowly pushing inside; groaning the moment your walls clenched around him.

“Relax mama..” He murmured, leaning down to kiss you. A hand then released your hip to travel between your legs, slowly circling your clit. You moaned against him, feeling him ease the rest of himself inside; a soft squelch emitting from the intrusion.

Eren pulled back from the kiss, eyes traveling to where the two of you were connected; sucking in a breath. “Taking me so damn well, pretty girl..” His grin grew the moment your walls clenched around him, eyes flicking to your face. “Oh— you like when I call you that, huh?” A snicker escaped him the moment your eyes traveled to the side, leaning to kiss your neck.

“So cute when you’re embarassed [Name].”

“Sh.. shut up Eren..—“ The words barely escaped you before said man was pulling his hips back, tip resting inside you before flicking them forward. Your hands grip tightened on his shirt, legs tightening as the experimental pumps turned into deep, quick thrusts.

Sputters of his name escaped you, head resting back as your body rocked with each unrelenting movement of his hips. You were squeezing him so damn tight, greedily sucking him in each time he pulled out. The breaths that escaped his mouth were hurried, fanning across your hot skin whilst his fingers dug into your plump form. You were stuck there, unable to run, to move; exposed to the pace he set— ruining you so perfectly.

Perfect.

That was the only thought in his mind as he green eyes took you in, watching your pretty lashes fluttering— struggling to keep your own eyes open. What’s more, little tears began to form, threatening to spill and ruin the makeup he’s sure you spent agonizing minutes on. The thought alone caused him to bury himself deeper, hands falling to the underside of your thighs and pushing you to lay on the counter.

“F—Fuck—!” You cried out, feeling him lift a leg to lay on his shoulder; drilling into you. His heavy length was brushing you in all the right spots, tip pushing against your cervix; the pain and pleasure molding into a single feeling. “E—eren..hah— shit, you’re too deep!” You whined out, tears spilling, causing black streaks to run down chubby cheeks.

Eren groaned softly, pushing to hover over your body whilst gripping the thigh pressed against his chest. “You want me to stop, baby? Huh? Want me to pull out?” The moment you shook your head he was grinning, pace never faltering, the slick mess between your thighs growing.

“Thought so..” Eren breathed, pulling back to kiss against your chubby thigh while his free hand moved to your stomach, pressing against it to feel each thrust. “Wanted this just as bad as I did, didn’t you? So fucking mean at work, yet here you are— whining and making a complete mess on my dick.”

You wanted to tell him to shut up. That he was wrong and much more. But you couldn’t, the man drilling into you with such precision the only legible words escaping your bruised lips were honeyed moans of his name and pleads to come.

Which Eren ate up completely, biting your skin just to feel you twitch— watch you gasp. Fuck, you were the prettiest sight; a complete mess for only his eyes.

Eren lowered to hover over your withering body, lips pressing against your chin. “Look at me, baby— lemme see you.” He breathed, attempting to keep your gaze. Instead you kept looking away, even closing your eyes and refusing to return his look.

That alone caused the man to suck his teeth, hips slowly before stopping completely; eliminating the bubble forming inside you.

Again, your high was ruined; eyes flying open to complain— a surprised yelp interrupting as he snatched you up and off the counter; pushing to turn you and lay you out— stomach down, ass up.

You wished to question this sudden position change, only for the answer to stand right infront of you. The fucking mirror. You attempted to glance away again, moaning the moment he grabbed a nice hold of your braids, pulling your head back to force you to look.

Eren leaned over you, speaking right into your ear whilst sliding back in; “Close your eyes again, I dare you.”

You whimpered at his words, gasping as his quick pace returned. You struggled to keep your eyes open with each thrust into your weakening body, nails clawing at the sleek counter whilst your moans bounced off the walls. You had long forgotten the remaining two hours of your shift, forgot about the many customers you were sure your friend was saddled with— you could only focus on Eren, his dick, his hot breath and dirty words being whispered into your ear.

You were being consumed completely, so easily— and you welcomed it fully.

The wet sounds of skin on skin contact acted as a background to the combined sounds you two released, Eren pulling back to watch himself push in and out of your wet pussy. Your ass bounced with each flick of his hips, rippling the moment his palm slammed against a cheek.

Eren grinned at the sharp whine that escaped you, pulling you right back on his dick the moment you tried to pull away. “Nah.. take it, mama. Don’t fucking run.” He huffed, gripping your hip and keeping you in place.

You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, tears treading down dried streaks as you watched yourself in the mirror. Your edges were curled, lips wet with both lip gloss and saliva, while your makeup began to run from the sheen of sweat tainting your skin. Even so, Eren still looked at you as if you were completely perfect, leaning down and whispering such right into your ear.

You gripped your hands into tight fists, crying out as you stared at him in the mirror, desperate pleas falling from your lies;

“S—so close.. fuck, fuck! Eren, please—!”

The whines were music to his ears, eyes threatening to roll back the moment he felt you fucking back; ass slapping against his body with each messy bounce. “Shit, [Name]..” He dragged, blunt nails digging into you plush skin as he drilled into you. “Come all over me, mama. Make me a mess— don’t fucking hold it.”

Eren hissed, mouth hanging open the moment he felt you clench around him tight; creaming all over his length. A drawn out swear escaped him, leaning down close whilst his hand rose to your throat. “That’s it baby, cream all over this dick.. So fucking filthy.”

You were pulled into a sloppy kiss, tongues playing and teeth colliding as he pushed himself deep inside; flooding you with his hot, thick come. Your toes curled at the feeling, walls spasming around his length as your combined arousals slipped to his balls and down to the ground beneath you.

As his hips slowed the kiss became more uniform, breathing into the other’s mouth, Eren sucking your wet muscle.

Moments passed before he pulled away, watching your form rest on the counter; rapid pants escaping you. A satisfied grin pulled his features, slowly pulling out with a soft hiss— watching his cum slowly flow out of you.

He had half a mind to push it back in.

Instead, Eren whistled lowly, hand falling to your ass and massaging where he previously slapped. “Tired sweetheart?” He questioned, eyes flicking to the mirror. He grinned at the expression that crossed your features, gripping your butt even more.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

You slowly turned onto your back, ignoring the feeling between your legs and standing on shaky legs. You warmed as he came close, assisting you in pulling your clothes back on. “But my shift..” You dragged, gaze lifting to his face.

“It got covered.”

You blinked slowly, the pieces slowly coming together. “She was in on this, wasn’t she?”

Eren remained silent for a moment, pulling his pants up. Your gaze narrowed, reaching over to lightly slap his arm. “Eren!”

The man snorted, coming close and resting his hands onto your hips.

“You weren’t worried about it the moment you stepped in here. And you definitely won’t be when I get you home.. so come on.”

REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[saffyspirals]

EYYY!! I recently found you in this app and I just gonna say your content is pretty great! Is it okay if I put on a request? Like what would the blue lock characters call their S/o? ;) any characters is fine to me but I hope Nagi and Kurona will be included hehe- Good work btw!

❥ fandom: blue lock

❥ includes: nagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, shidou, kurona, hiori & reo

❥ notes: hi!! i really loved writing this request, so thanks for sending it in! i thought really hard about what kurona would call his s/o (literally took days), and fell in love w/ his character in the process :)

❥ warning(s): hmm…kurona might be ooc IDK but i like this kurona!

you are nagi’s little angel. he low-key started calling you that as a joke (he used to find couple nicknames a little cringe), but eventually, he grows to love your reactions to the name. you smile at him, a lot, and it gets him out of trouble 90% of the time. “come back to bed, angel… ‘m asking nicely, aren’t i?”

kaiser switches it up like no man’s business. he’d been calling you by different pet names since before you got together so, you’re pretty used to it. i’d say he rotates between babe/baby, love and princess. honey bunches and names of a similar strange nature are saved for when he feels like teasing you. mein kaiserin (my empress in his native tongue) is only used on special, romantic occasions. like, when he tells you he loves you for the first time. or when he’s trying to get his family to understand just how serious he is about you. <3

bachira switches between love and sugar. sugar-plum when he wants to embarrass you. bachira is definitely one to tell you that he loves you quite a lot, he just doesn’t want you to forget, i suppose! giving you ‘love’ as a nickname is a way of reminding you of the fact rather than declaring how he feels 24/7. sugar is just another name he likes. it sounds good coming from him, and you usually get a kiss after he uses it, which is of course a bonus. “eh? you’re asking me how i think you look today? you look perfect, sugar! always do.”

chigiri refers to you as his darling. the nickname is beautiful, and elegant, just like he is. it’s easy to get flustered, having him call you that. chigiri likes the fact that he’s able to bring about such an adorable reaction.

kunigami doesn’t call you by this nickname often. actually, he uses your first name most of the time, mostly out of habit (i’m thinking friends-since-forever turned lovers), partly because he feels a little embarrassed giving you a nickname and using it in front of others. BUT ANYWAY, kunigami refers to you as pretty. he’d first called you it by accident, but since you seemed elated by it, decided he’d continue to use it on occasion. “tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty.”

SHIDOU CALLS YOU SWEET GIRL. (🫠🫶) + similar variations like, sweetie or sweetheart, or sweet cheeks. snookums is reserved for when he’s about to tell you he’s done something that will probably annoy you. reason for the nickname? well, you’re sweet! you’ve got a good heart, and won’t swing for people if they say/do anything you don’t like. “are you gonna kiss me goodbye, sweet cheeks? or am i gonna have to chase ya?”

kurona primarily calls you pudding. his reason for it? “i like pudding, and i like you.” i feel like he’s kind of a private person, and only opens up when he feels totally comfortable with someone so, it’s only used when it’s just the two of you around. HOWEVER. private as he is, i think kurona’s got this other side to him. he likes to tease you, just a little. say for example, you’re giving him the silent treatment. he’ll still try and talk to you, but will eventually get tired of not getting any attention. and then, “hey, y/n? can you pass me some napkins?” “…” “…ah, right. you love being called pookie bear, don’t you. POOKIE BEAR, WILL YOU PASS ME SOME NAPKINS?” he’ll pull this kind of stunt in front of your mutual friends when you’re having breakfast together (or something of a similar scenario!). it’s embarrassing, but it gets you to talk at least. he likes having you address him, even if it’s to tell him to, “stop embarrassing me, idiot!”

hiori calls you pumpkin. a little on the cheesy side, but i think it suits him! he isn't embarrassed about referring to you by the name in public either. it shows anyone who might be questioning your relationship that you're definitely together. if it embarrasses you, he'll do his best to tone it down. no promises that he'll never say it though, hiori simply can't help it!

reo rotates between a lot of sweet sounding nicknames. precious, my love, honey. i don't think he does this on purpose, but reo loves using 'my' before a lot of nicknames too. it's just an unconscious reminder that you're all his, and honestly, he's all yours. reo would be all in for any relationship he pursues, and nicknames come with the territory. bonus: he'd be absolutely over the moon if you gave him a cute nickname too. sure, he'd be a little embarrassed if his friends teased him about it, but his heart would swell with pride. being known as the 'sickening, lovey-dovey' couple isn't a bad thing, you know!! "My love, remind me what you wanted me to get you at the store later?"

[ymiko0]

hi!! i wanted to request a fem reader x childe where the reader is really physically weak 💀 like this may or may not be based off of experience but my knees literally popped while riding someone 😭 if you’re comfortable, could you write something following that? id say more fluff but still nsfw, like reader feels really bad but childe is just reassuring like no it’s ok and just proceeds to fuck you missionary— also i’m not entirely sure what the difference between drabbles and oneshots are so it’s up to you :)

Tw: physically weak fem!reader, praise, missionary, p in v, softdom!childe, p w/o p , praise( sorry I dont have any ideas😭 )

Childe kisses your neck softly as he slowly thrusts in you. His orange hair being beautifully lit by the moonlight through the window as he holds you delicately, making his pretty little thing feel good was everything that he wanted.

" 'yer doin' so good baby— yeah just, like that. " he spoke softly, his voice giving you a sense of comfort.

The young harbinger loves taking care of you, but you doubted yourself and your abilities in his bed. Though you lying down on hia mattress and taking his love would be more than enough for him, you're really not contributing much in bed because of your weak body.

So you tear his arms away from you, attempting to flip him over, attempting to take control, try leading, make him finally feel how you feel—

— but you cant.

Your arms are too weak and threatens your body that it might break if you force yourself to carry his toned torso even further.

Childe realizes what you're doing and holds your wrists beside your head, his face dipping against yours as he places another peck on your cheek.

" ah-ah that ain't workin' on me doll. " he said while looking straight into your eyes.

" you're here to get the loving that you deserve, and I'm giving you that. " he spoke with a reassuring tone.

He kisses you in the lips, prolonging the contact, while he slowly began thrusting in again, his words glazed with honey making you shudder in delight, your walls clenching uncontrollably around his shaft.

" you— stay there and be pretty like the princess you are baby, and let this prince charming— " he spoke in between thrusting in you. " — take care of you yeah? "

He spreads your legs further apart, gaining more access on your wet entrance, finally finding a comfortable pace for the both of you.

He pulls you into another passionate kiss, his thrusts remain unrelenting as his tounge explores your mouth, and dancing with yours.

He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting both of your red, swollen lips.

" as long as you stay with me forever I'll gladly do everything for you Ангел, so just– let me do it for ya. "

He loves you so much hed be willing to do anything for ya, lucky girl.

Notes: THANK YOU FIRST REQUEST WOOO I'm sorry, it's a bit rushed.. I hope I didnt let ya down! I havent touched genshin in a while so I dont know if this is ooc😭 ( probably is ) and sorry for taking too long! I'm so slow and I'm high-key busy with college and stuff so...but anyway pls enjoy! ( PLEASE ) also please take care of yourself<3

[callmerhynner]

Wanna switch?

synopsis: A wish a psychic has chanted all his life gets granted, by a witch that just wants more answers. Regret seeps, but will something else too?

tags: bad elden german, witch!fem!reader, maybe ooc Kusuo, story building (if you squint), no idea tbh, slice of life (maybe?)

"Saiki, good timing buddy!" a purple-haired medium exclaims, seeing his friend, greeting with a up-high wave and a bright-lit smile.

"Nevermind" the psychic merely replies, turning his heels and walking away. The purple haired male doesn't take the hint, however, and wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. He waves a letter at his face and start talking about how a pretty girl had finally become friends with him--he expects it to go farther, though.

Saiki looks at the letter he's waving begrudgingly, thinking of ways he could get away with killing the fool that was on his hunt for the coffee jelly he had seen in so many advertisements.

"It's not even addressed to you." he says. Toritsuka lets out a cartoon-ish shocked face and sighs in defeat. As the medium drops to his knees, the boy takes the letter in curiosity.

He regrets being curious more than he regrets taking that letter's offer.

Now, he was sat on the floor carpet, you continue meditating and keeping yourself reserved, though that wasn't going as good as you'd hoped seeing as a certain pink-haired psychic was watching you. You continue to keep humming, trying to block out the stare you could feel through your skin. After one more try, you let out an annoyed grunt and sent a glare at the boy.

"What do you want?" you say, brows furrowed.

"Don't get so pissed off at me, you're the one that invited me." he replies, pointing out your past conversation.

“I’m gonna kill that idiot.” you sigh, pinching off the candles’ wicks that circled you and standing yourself up. “I’m guessing your servant told you about my offer?”

"He's nowhere related with me." the psychic replies with the same monotone voice that piqued your curiosity

You stand in front of him, head tilted in thought as you measured him up and down. He stood quiet, surely reading your mind as you estimated his every noticeable detail.

"I'm guessing you already know why I invited you over?" You hum, walking past him and going over to your study desk, looking for something, by the looks of it.

"He mentioned." He says bluntly, with how fuzzy your mind was getting. He has been reading through your thoughts but it sounds as if it was broadcasted on a broken radio. If you didn't look so decent and well taken care of, the psychic would question if you had been drinking.

"I know you're psychic and all, and that--ugh, where is it." you groan, looking through each drawer and corner of the desk. "--and that you're probably hearing very thought in me right now."

"I do warn 'ya, not many can even understand this broken head I got up here." you chuckle lightly, knocking on the top of you skull before continuing to look for whatever it was you were looking for. "From what people like you tell me, my head sounds like a wounded doll or some 60s voicebox."

"What do you mean 'people like me'?" The pink-haired boy questions, eyebrows furrowed down.

"Did I say that? I don't remember." You just turn to face him with an innocent smile and a shrug. Turning your back again.

"Are there other psychics?" he sounded a lot more emoted when the topic was mentioned. He trued harder and harder to read through your thoughts, to no avail.

"I'll tell you about that later, for now... Aha! There you are, little prick." You exclaim, raising a large old-looking book with a gilded lock guarding it. "This will answer both of our questions..." you smile with a dark air surrounding you.

"If you're willing, of course." you add, looking up at the man in front of you. You let a hand out for him to grab, reluctantly he does. Your eyes squint as your smile grows bigger in excitement.

You open the book with a key you had tied to your necklace and skim through pages and pages until you see your desired spell. As if by magic, the candles were lit up once more, you and the psychic inside the lit circle back-to-back. You raise your arm as something resembling static buzzes around it, eyes going pale, you chant an ancient text from the book.

"In tiefen Schatten, weben Flüstern,

Tauschen wir Formen, unsere Seelen zu bewahren."

The room starts to fume and fog begins to puff in from the static's heat. The room's walls are barely seen with how thick the air is, from the posters to even the doorknob, nothing is noticeable. It's a wonder what your parents must think when about when you're up to these gimmicks.

"Dankbarkeit gelernt, in neuer Fleischlichkeit,

Lehre gegeben, für dich und mich."

You chant before the smoke begins to collect and wrap around each of your bodies, the pressure is tolerable yet uncomfortably tight. The psychic begins to cough when the clouds around his necks tighten and smoke chain begins to wrap his wrist linked to yours. He feels his feet lift, this was crazier than what he could have ever imagined.

'How powerful is this witch?!' he yells to himself as you both spin around. He shuts his eyes, wishing the worst on every soul he could think of that led him to this decision. And before he knew it, he was back on the floor, laid down on the hard wood floor. He skimmed the room, nothing.

It was as if nothing had happened, there were not smoke nor any traces of the witch's doing. He stood up, thinking he may have been pranked since nothing felt different, who was he kidding? A witch that could take away his powers? He should've never hoped anything to come of it.

He stood up, he expected the chatter of people's thoughts to clamor him as they usually did, when he heard nothing, his finger fiddled with his other hand to check his germanium ring.

"Huh..?" the air stood quiet, he stood still and the room was suddenly colder than the Antarctic. 'Where is it?'

The ring rolled in front of him, in shock, he looked up seeing a girl that looked his age stood above him. You just tilted your head down at him, smirking with a glint in your eye.

"You plan on laying there til the sun goes down or what?" you hum, lending a hand out for him to grab. He lifts himself up without your help and looks around the room once more.

"How does being average feel?" you ask, prompting yourself to sit on your chair.

"What did you do?" he says, but without his psychic abilities, there would be no way for you to even understand him further than that glare he was putting out.

"Hm?" you sound out, clearly confused before getting the hint that he still remains in denial of his powers no longer with him. "I can't read your thoughts, nor can you make me understand yours."

"What?" he still doesn't seem to get it.

"Talk." you simply put. "Talk with your mouth, you can't talk to me telepathically anymore." You pioint at your lips as you speak, his eyes bulge out before he finally opens his mouth.

"What did you do to me?" he asks, incriminatingly, even with his feet positioned as if he was ready to throw down a fight.

"Your wish, was it not?" you say, tone stating as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're no longer a psychic, just a simple, average, and mostly un-unique boy from a small city school."

"Aren't you happy, Saiki?" you say, the smile in your face soon showing in your voice.

to be continued...

Part 2

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Hey uh I👉🏻👈🏻 wrote something for ya... Bc I love cathie... And I wanted to gift u something...

Low-key am not sure if it's good and I'm a bit scared to make Ruthie too ooc but I did my best😔🙏🏻 hope you can enjoy<33

Also I just realized this looks like a first kiss fic when u clearly mentioned how u wanted their first kiss to be so UHHH– THINK THIS IS LIKE AN AU OR SOMETHING OK😭 sorry about that😔

•••

Cater and Ruthie's relationship was… weird. Not in a bad way, it's just– they were in their first few weeks as a couple, not much have changed from when they were friends... but now there was an urge to just be romantic and Ruthie felt pressured to be more like that... But she didn't know how.

Listen, Ruthie had lived her life surrounded by love, but never in love. It was strange. She knew rationally what people did in relationships, how they acted, but it was so… foreign. The idea that someone would love her, would want to do what couples usually do with her. Could someone truly love her? Was she allowed to experience love for herself?

And with someone as wonderful as Cater, nonetheless?

So… she just stood there awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands, looking down, unsure what to do as he walked her back to her house after yet another... date. If you could even call such an awkward hang out as a date.

She didn't know what to do, was it ok to hold his hand? And after they arrive at her house, what could she possibly do? Usually she would tell others to give their partner a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye… but was that something she should do? Would Cater be comfortable with such a thing? Maybe–

“Woah there!” Cater held onto the girl’s wrist, making her bump into him. Her hand on his chest and face looking at his eyes in confusion and shock. They both went red and Ruthie retreated embarrassed, holding her face in her hands. Cater cleared his throat, looking away. “You almost hit the wall.”

“The wall?” She repeated, a bit confused. She looked ahead and realized she was finally home… she didn't even notice, she was so stuck in her own head. “Oh. Right, we’re here…”

“We sure are.” He said, scratching his neck, his body weight moving from one foot to another. “Hey, before you get inside… I gotta know, are you ok, Ruthie?”

“Wha– yeah, of course.” She lied. Unfortunately for her Cater was a pro at seeing when people were hiding their true feelings.

“You can be honest with me, you know that, right?” He walked towards her, holding her hands gently as he tilted his head to get a better look at her face. “What is it?”

Ruthie looked into his eyes for a brief moment before she felt her face getting warm and she was forced to look down. She stared at their hands locked with each other, how much care she felt with the way he held her hands… she didn't deserve him, did she?

“Are you– are you not happy with our rela–”

“Never even think about that!” The blonde rushed to get that thought of his to perish, her voice way too loud. She put a hand to her mouth as Cater chuckled. Goodness, she had no self restraint, had she? “I mean… no, no I'm happy with our relationship, it's just…”

How could she even begin to explain herself?

“Go on.” He looked at her, encouraging her, and Ruthie melted in his gaze, a small smile showing on her face.

“I just… I'm not really used to this, it’s all so new…” she sighed. “I feel like... it's like I'm doing everything wrong…”

“What? Of course not, that's so silly of you!” Cater let out a small laugh that made Ruthie's stomach fill with butterflies. He cupped her face in his hand, a shy smile on his face. "Ruthie, you're the best girlfriend I could ever hope for." She tried to deny it, but he didn't give her a chance to speak. “If it's any consolation… I also think I'm being terrible at this boyfriend thing.”

Ruthie shook her head, holding his wrists and leaning her face in his hand. The ginger swore she could be able to hear his heartbeat with how loud his heart was pounding.

“No, you're wonderful. Trust me, you… you just make me so happy.”

With that, there was silence. Neither of them dared to speak as they simply stared at each other, their hearts going a mile per second and their faces growing red. Ruthie felt the need to look away, but she forced herself not to… Cater reassured her that she was fine, and he was having the same issues as her… so… she guessed it wasn't wrong to be awkward, right?

As long as their attitudes were from the heart.

With that, Ruthie moved closer to his face, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. It was so fast their lips barely touched, but the feeling was still there. His lips were softer and warmer than she imagined.

“Ok, bye!”

And just like that, she ran away. Despite Cater’s calls for her name she quickly unlocked her door and got inside, sitting on the floor and holding her face. She squealed as she kicked the ground happily, she did it! She did something romantic, this was progress!! See? She could do it!!

And his expression… he looked at her with so shock, but with so much adoration… Ruthie couldn't help but smile foolishly as she continued to squeal silently to not bother her neighbors.

She just hoped he liked it too…

•••

“There you are, how was your–” Riddle began before stopping mid sentence, looking at the boy up and down. “Cater, why are you so red–”

“GoodtoseeyoutooRiddlegoodnight!”

And the boy ran away.

Hello Mah! ☆

AHHHHHHH MAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WROTE A CATHIE FIC??? FOR ME??!! OH MY GOSH IT'S SO CUTE!! ♡♡♡♡ (I'm gonna cry, ahhhhh!!)

THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY SWEET OF YOU!! ♡ THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

AHHHHH MY HEART!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡ CATHIE!!!! ♡♡♡

YOU DID SO WELL WRITING RUTHIE TOO!!! ♡ (She is a bit OOC here, but it doesn't matter lol This fic is sooooo good and so so cute, I'd love it no matter what!!!! ♡♡♡ Especially since you took the time and care to write it for me ♡)

AND UGHHHHH MY HEART, CATER!! I adored him in this fic!! ♡ So good!! ♡♡♡

I LOVE THIS!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

THANK YOU SO MUCH MAH!! ♡♡♡

Truly, thank you!! I'm going to cherish this (and reread it constantly) ♡♡♡♡♡♡

Thank you! ♡

[myinconnelly1]

Nameless Need Pt. 1 - Hero

Word count: 739

Masterlist

Pairing: Adam Sackler x OFC (Selena Allen)

Warnings: Stalking, more warnings to come

A/N: This is my first time writing Adam Sackler, or for Adam Driver at all so please be gentle with me. I have a feeling Adam will feel kinda OOC, cause I've only seen a few episodes of the girls but hopefully you all enjoy anyway!

Summary: Selena 'Lena' Allen convinces her neighbor, Adam, to pretend to be her boyfriend so that a Stalker will leave her alone. Things get a little out of hand after that.

The thump at the stairs caught Adam’s attention while he was fishing his keys out of his pocket.  The woman that lived across the hall had dropped her grocery bag and her purse when she tripped running up the stairs.  Adam put his stuff down and walked over to her, grabbed her under the arm and helped stand her up.

“Help me,” She hissed as she put an arm on the shoulder and leaned into him.

“What?” He asked.

“He’s been following me since work,”  She gasped before speaking much louder, “God, you’re my hero, baby.”  Adam took only a second before he fell into character.  He dipped her low like he was dancing with her and grabbed her grocery bag as he nuzzled her neck.

“What would you do without me,”  He said chuckled at the same volume as her.

“Lena, sweets, you dropped you…. Oh,”  Said a man who had a jar in his hand as he walked up the stairs.  He stopped short when he saw Adam.

“Charlie, I didn’t see you.  I thought you were still at the hospital,”  She giggled as she let Adam right her and moved to put the large man between her and Charlie.

“Here let me take that,”  Adam offered his hand out to Charlie.

“Oh sure,”  Charlie said suspiciously.  “She can be such a klutz sometimes.  I’m sure you are constantly picking up after her.”

“Well it’s a nice view, so I don’t mind,”  Adam said.  He turned and handed the jar to Lena with a wink.  “Hey babe, why don’t you take your stuff inside and I come give you a massage,”

“Ok, don’t take too long, or I might start without you,”  Lena said coyly, before prancing as best as she could into her apartment.

“Charlie, right,”  Adam said as he turned to look back at the man who had followed his neighbor home from her job.  “Lena, hasn’t talked about you before, sorry.”  Charlie made a face of displeasure and that pleased Adam.  Typical stalker.

“Right, yeah, I work with her at the hospital.  Ya know, Lena said she had a boyfriend but none of us believed her.  You should come by some time as proof.  I mean unless it’s not that serious,” Charlie sneered.  He was trying to get a ruse out of Adam, but that was not going work.

“Oh it’s pretty serious,”  Adam said as he moved to go toward Lena’s door.  “See ya around Charlie,”  He didn’t bother looking back over his shoulder before walking into Lena’s apartment.

“Thanks,” She huffed as Adam closed the door behind himself.  “I’m Selena, by the way.  Everyone calls me Lena at work, though.”

“Adam,”  He introduced himself to her, letting himself look at her.  She had sandy hair pulled into a high ponytail, cute but also efficient, with her bangs hanging over in front of her grey eyes.  He also noticed that she was wearing scrubs.  “Do I need to take a shower in disinfectant?”  He asked lifting his hands and gesturing at her.

“What? Oh no you’re good.”  She laughed earnestly.  “Can I make you dinner, you know, to say thanks?”   She looked frazzled.

“I don’t need anything like that, he looked like a fucking creep.”  Adam said tossing his thumb over his shoulder.

“It’s just spaghetti, the least I can do for my ‘boyfriend’,”  She put little air quotes around boyfriend.

“Does he do that often?  Follow you home?”  Adam asked.  He couldn’t say why but between the cute way you shook your bangs out of your face, and the way his blood was boiling with anger toward Charlie, he didn’t want to move away from the front door.

“Uh no, this is the first time, at least the first time I’ve seen him, near my home,”  She started pulling her groceries out of the bag that Adam had rescued for her.  “I, uh, this is stupid but would you please stay for dinner.  I don’t want to be alone, I mean I just don’t feel safe, you know?”

“Okay, but I’m gonna wash dishes.”  Adam said finally taking a step toward her little kitchen island. 

“Thanks, I need to go change, make yourself comfortable.”  She gestured to some chairs she had by the island before walking away.

“So, you’re a doctor?”  Adam asked as he fell into the chair with a bit of a sigh.  What had he gotten himself into here?

[bphantom01]

ARC V MONTH DAY 4 - The Merriest Band of Misfits

A/N: Another late post lol srry :P

I wanted to write abt fusion squad, but i have a whole fic dedicated to em already, so i decided to write abt the fusion & sync duos! theyre another 4-person friend group i rlly love, u see :DD

Pairings: Yugo/Rin & Yuri/Serena

Warnings: None. They say a few cuss words but that’s about it, also expect some OOCness like witth the other things I wrote.

Earlier this morning, Yuri had invited her and the Synchro Duo, Yugo and Rin, over to "hang out" as he called it. He said it was about Yuya telling him to get along with other people or something…

—

It was gonna be a weird day for Serena, she could tell.

So here she was, sitting at a coffee shop in an Xyzian mall with Rin, waiting for their respective boys to arrive.

She and Rin surprisingly got along well after the war, as they were the orphans of the bracelet girls — the only two with no family before the war.

Other things were because she and Rin happened to be the most boyish of the girls and that they both grew up having to prove people their worth.

“What could be taking them so long?” Serena randomly asks, breaking her own trail of thoughts.

“Yugo, definitely… He's always late," Rin sighed.

Right when Rin answered, said Yu's finally showed up at the door and walked over to them.

“I apologize for being late, Rin and my dear Serena—”

“Don't-Don't call me that,” Serena interrupted.

But Yuri went on anyway. “—but you see, Yugo-kun here spent too long in the bathroom.”

“You said I had to look my best!” Yugo complained.

“You can style yourself outside.”

“Whatever…”

“Well,” Rin said, sighing, “at least you're both here. But, Serena and I told the waiter twice to wait for you both, you know. So try to be earlier next time.”

“Okay then, Yugo will try,” Yuri said blatantly. “Now can we get some coffee? And a croissant, perhaps?”

“No, I don't wanna stay here any longer. I've had enough of the place.” Serena got up.

Rin soon followed. “So have I. Let’s just go to an arcade or something…”

“Yes! Gaming time! I'm with ya, Rin-Rin!” Yugo cheered.

Yuri gaped. “I haven't eaten anything!”

“That’s your problem, cabbage.” Serena smiled.

“Hmph. Whatever. Just make sure there's lunch later.”

“There will be.” Rin rolled her eyes.

“And you girls will pay?”

“All of us will pay—we’ll divide the bill into four. Now let's leave!”

—

While walking to the arcade, Rin observed the whole of the mall.

With funding and support from Fusion as a form of apology, together with the efforts of many Xyzian people as well as Fusionists who were sent to help instead of being jailed, most of the mall has been restored to its former glory.

There were still some unfinished parts here and there, but overall it seemed to look the way it used to.

“Aww yeah, the arcade!” Yugo yelled, running into the said place with the two other Fusionists.

“Hey, wait up you three!” Rin ran after them.

“Woah,” Serena gasped, looking around to see lots of arcade machines, claw machines, driving simulators, and duel simulators, among others—all with many games and with their lights ablaze. There were a lot of people too, of course.

Ruri wasn't kidding when she said they'd have so much fun.

“Hah! Who knew Xyz'd be this cool,” Yuri exclaimed. “I almost regret being part of the war!”

“Oi, shut your trap, and stop being proud of what you helped cause,” Serena warned.

“I'm with her on that, Yuri,” Yugo added. “Starting a war is not something to be proud of.”

“Guys, I. Don't. Care. Now let's have fun!” Yuri ran off to the nearest duel simulator, also known as a duel terminal, probably.

The other two also bolted to their own destinations—Serena to this "Grand Piano Keys" game thing and Yugo to a claw machine with lots of cute duel monster plushies in them.

Meanwhile, Rin just got there. What's up with them just running off!?

She sighed and just walked to where Yugo was.

“Hey, Rin! I'm gonna try and get you that Melffy Pinny plush!” he blurted, inserting a coin into that thing where you put it in, which started the one-minute timer.

“Oh cool, good luck!”

With intense focus, Yugo moved the claw with the joystick.

The claw is so slow…!

Aaand there, right there above the plush!

He waited until the timer was at one second before pushing the grab button.

“Yes!” he yelled when the claw fell to the plush.

…before frowning as the claw seemingly, ‘couldn't hold onto it.’

“Aw, poor fusion-kun lost,” Yuri teased, seeing Yugo’s utter defeat.

“That's not fairrr!” Yugo shouted, catching the attention of a few Xyzians.

“Hey, look, it's alright, at least you tried!” Rin encouraged. “Keep your voice low, please. And Yuri, shut up.”

Serena walked over to them with a handful of tickets. “So I played some piano game and got a bunch of tickets… What do I do with these?”

“Yuto said you could exchange them for prices,” Rin stated, motioning to the price booth. “The more you have, the bigger a thing you could get, I'd guess.”

“Ooh, to another machine then!” Serena dashed across the place to what Rin could make out to be an Ice Ball game, with Yuri following suit.

“Yugo, you coming?”

The banana-head just stared sorrowfully onto the Pinny plush that lay in the machine. “Y-yeah… In a moment.”

“Uh, okay, then. I'll be with the Fusion duo to make sure they won't cause any trouble,” Rin told him, walking away.

“Okay…”

“I can stay if you want, you know?”

“Oh, no, it's fine,” Yugo assured. “Don't worry, I'll be okay!”

“Hm.” Rin nodded and walked on.

—

“You're doing it all wrong,” Yuri complained. “Put only a little force on it enough to launch it; don't put all your strength into the ball!”

“Hey! Wait for your turn!” Serena retorted. 

“Tsk. Just saying—getting 3 to 5 thousand points is better than getting none at all or an occasional 10k then nothing. Remember, you only have—”

“Nine balls, and at the moment only one left. I know!” Serena interrupted, throw-sliding the ball into the road a little too harshly, it hit the fiberglass with a loud BANG!

‘10 thousand, 10 thousand! Please…!’ she thought.

The ball rolled off to nothing.

“AUUUGHHH!”

Yuri meanwhile laughed beside her. “See? Control your force!”

“SHUT UP!”

“And what's going on with you two?” Rin asked, approaching them.

“Serena never listens,” Yuri mocked.

“And Yuri can't keep his mouth shut,” Serena hissed. “Aha! I was distracted!” She gave Yuri a glare.

He smiled at her in return, but also looked into her eyes.

…they had a staring contest.

“That's enough now, you two,” Rin scolded. She looked around.

Eventually, a certain dancing game caught her eye. “Hey, why don't you both play that dance thing over there, instead?”

Serena usually would rather not dance, but she was losing this contest, and as such, she whipped her head toward Rin so Yuri couldn't see that she blinked. “You know what? You're right.”

She turned back to Yuri. “Yuri, wanna have a dance fight?”

Yuri smiled. “Ah, sure!”

And they left with Rin following them behind, thoughts of whether leaving Yugo was a good idea or not swirling in her mind.

“Look at me, Yuri!” Serena said, and she began the game.

Her swift and graceful movements amused him.

He knew she could dance, but still! He’s never seen her do it with so much passion.

A chuckle escaped him. This little competition is easily won by her… and he couldn’t help but smile as she danced to the beat ever so beautifully.

When the round ended, she got off the small stage and walked to him. “Did ya see that?” She then noticed how he looked at her. “Hm? What’re you grinning for?”

“Nothing. Only,” he laughed, “you’re good—I’ll admit that. And you win for now.”

Serena blushed lightly, not enough for anyone to notice. His compliment also brushed her competitive side away, just for a moment. “Thank… you…? Also, what happened to your condescending attitude?”

“It’s still there, that I assure you. But…”

He looked beyond her—to a kid’s basketball machine.

He saw that the hoop was easily within arm's reach of any teenager their age—meaning they can drop or dip the ball into the hoop with tremendous ease.

And also get a whole bunch of tickets in the process.

He grinned, turning back to Serena. “Rena-kun,” he called to her.

“What do you want?”

Yuri took a deep breath. “I'm gonna ask you a favor.”

Serena laughed at him. “That's new… What is it?”

“I'm surprised you didn't make fun of me, other than that laugh, but why don't we… Cheat the kid's basketball machine?” he asked.

“Hmm… What do I get from it?”

“Let's see… You can have 40% of the tickets.”

“50 and I'll do it.”

Yuri sighed, but he just caved. “Ah, you know what, fine. C'mon.”

From the other side where Rin was playing this remake of Flappy Bird, she stopped playing—which of course made her lose—as their words caught her ears.

She saw them by the kid's basketball machine.

Of course…

When the two got there, a kid was still busy playing.

The poor thing looked back at them, and when he saw Yuri, he froze.

Yuri smirked. “Boo.”

The poor kid squeaked before slowly walking off.

“Oh Ra, you didn't need to do that,” Serena chastised. “Buuut at least we got it to ourselves now, so let's take advantage of that and the kid's tickets.”

For the next few minutes, the two watched amused as the scoreboard's numbers did nothing else but rise almost every second as they both dipped the balls just enough for the sensors to notice.

When they finished, they went for another round, and their number of tickets also kept on increasing.

Rin sighed as she watched them, but her mood brightened when she saw Yugo jogging over to them, the Melffy Pinny plush from earlier clutched in his two hands. “Hey, Rin-Rin!”

“Oh, hi, Yugo!” She laughed as he handed her the plush. “Aww, you didn't have too…”

“But I DID have to!” Yugo insisted, bright blue eyes shining with satisfaction of being able to give Rin the plush.

“Well, thanks, at least.” She gave him an embrace and he gladly returned it.

“Ah, fusion finally got the Melffy, eh?” Yuri said, amused, as Serena continued to dip the ball in the hoop.

Yugo let Rin go and said, “Yeah, so? At least I care for my girl!”

“Serena doesn't deserve me, though,” Yuri said dramatically, making him get kicked by Serena in the shins in the process.

“Can't you be not annoying for once? And you’re the one who doesn’t deserve me.”

“I'm always gonna be annoying—and you all have to put up with it…” Yuri uttered as he clutched his leg. “And you did NOT have to hit me that hard…! What if you broke my leg!?”

He went on whining on the floor, which caught a bunch of people's attention. “It hurts!”

“Oh Ra…” Serena shook her head.

And, together with the synchro duo, they yelled, “Get up!”

“Gee, fine. I'm serious, though—it really, really hurts. Can one of you guys get ice or something cold that won't melt for me, please?” he begged, leaning to a wall.

“I'll fuckin’ do it.” Serena rolled her eyes. “I'll be right back.”

While Yuri sat on a bench to wait for Serena to come back, Yugo and Rin allowed themselves to enjoy the whole arcade without the Fusion Duo having an argument behind their backs.

Both of ‘em went on to play some 2-player shooting games where they shot some mechanical aliens to save some ship before going to play the classic Whac-A-Mole game.

“Yugo, stay focused!” Rin yelled. “You can do it!”

“I'm trying, Rin, but these moles are just. So fast!” Yugo shivered as he tried to pour all his focus into this one game, but he still somehow kept missing.

He didn't hit much, but they got tickets nonetheless, so he took those.

“Can I try?” Rin asks.

“Oh, sure.”

“Thanks!” Rin took the little foam mallet and started the game.

Whack!

Oh wow, this was rather easy.

Whack! Whack!

How could Yugo be bad at this!?

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Woah, Rin, you're a natural!” Yugo complimented. “I'll help! I'll whack those you can't with my hands!"

“Wait, Yugo, I'm fine—”

And with her focus a bit deterred, she and Yugo went for this one common target, making her hit Yugo's hand a bit too hard.

“YyyyOUCH!” he exclaimed. The pain hurt so much, it got him kneeling to the floor groaning in pain, much like what Yuri did earlier, but a bit louder and without the laying down part.

She gasped at that. “Oh, you idiot! I told you to—! Sigh, you know what, just go sit with Yuri; I'll tell Serena to get more ice…”

After a good while, Serena finally arrived with two glass bottles of cold ketchup.

“What—why'd you get that!?” Rin yelled at Serena in disbelief.

“It was the only thing I could think of!”

“You could've just, I dunno, gotten some ice bags?! And ice??”

“Actually, I thought not to do that. Plus, we can at least use the ketchup for later, bring it home or something, you know? Maybe we could give one of ‘em to the boys.”

Rin doesn't know how many times she sighed now, but she sighed anyway.

After they gave the bottle to the boys—and Serena getting another scolding from Yuri for getting ketchup—they all decided to make Yugo and Rin race through a driving simulator.

“Rin, you can do this!” Serena cheered. “Good luck, and win! YuriandIhadabetandmywalletsdependingonyousoyeahpleasewin,” she went on with the last part quickly.

“What?”

“Break a leg—but not literally.” Serena smiled.

“Oh, alright. Thanks!”

And with le boys…

“Yugo, please win. Serena and I had a bet, and if you lose, I'm not just losing money, I'm also gonna have to dye my hair brown for a week! Can you believe that?”

The banana-head raised a brow. “How's that my problem? I'd honestly love to see how you'd look with brown hair. Also, you agreed to it, not me.”

But anyway, the Synchro Duo chose their D-wheels and started.

3… Rin gripped her handle tighter.

2… Yugo smiled, getting ready.

1… They both held breaths, then,

GO!! The words appeared on the screen.

And instantly, Rin and Yugo revved their motorcycle sims and felt it "move" forward.

The screen then showed them and several NPCs racing through.

“Wooo! Go, Rin!”

“Fusion! You better do this, because I'm cheering for you for once, can you believe that!? So don't you dare waste it!”

Vrooooooooooom!

The sounds came from the speakers with the machine, and the screen showed several terrain — cliff sides, cities, a bridge and even a concrete loop-the-loop.

“Woah!” Rin exclaimed, as she almost fell off.

“Haha! Now we see who's the better driver!” Yugo teased, laughing.

“Oh, you'll see who's better!” Rin 'violently pushed him off' the loop.

“Eek!” He landed rather safely, but it was still a bit uh, traumatizing.

“Yugo, you're gonna make my hair brown!” Yuri warned, clutching his (not Yugo's) head.

“I know! Calm down, I can still beat her.”

“You better!”

Serena laughed at them. “Please, Rin’s clearly winning.”

“Yeah, Yugo, how do you plan to beat me!?” Rin teased, a glint of slyness in her orange eyes.

Yugo's eyes trailed to their front.

Rin already used hers earlier, but he didn't yet—that “Turbo Speed Acceleration” kind of thing.

Rin's was still refilling, but his was full.

Meanwhile, they both neared the finish line.

“Like in a duel, Rin, my luck never fails me.”

Rin dropped her grin at that.

And Yugo took the pleasure of grinning this time. “I activate my ‘Action Magic’, Acceleration!” He triumphantly pressed the button.

“Nooo!” Rin and Serena shouted.

“Yes!” The boys cheered.

And in an instant, Yugo sped up right by Rin and reached the finish first.

“OHHH YEAHHH, WOOOO!” Yugo shouted, dismounting the runner. “I BEAT RIN FOR ONCE!”

He and Yuri fist-bumped and hi-fived each other with both hands and did the back-hit thing in those 'secret handshake' things.

“NO BROWN HAIIRRR!” Yuri yelled, making people turn to him.

“I BEAT RINNN!” Yugo exclaimed. He was so happy, he could feel the excitement running through his veins, and he ran to Rin who just got off, and they both almost stumbled to the ground.

“Woah, hey,” Rin warned. “We almost fell.”

“I'm sorry, it's just… You always beat me and—”

“Yes, yes, I'm happy for you too.” She chuckled. “You beat me—that surprised us both, and them, too, probably.”

“Yeah, a new achievement, hehe,” Yugo giggled with a :P face.

Rin smiled proudly and kissed him on the cheek. “So cute.”

He metaphorically melted into a puddle at that. “Hehe, hehe,” he kept saying, “Hehe…”

“Now it's my turn to say, ‘That's enough you two,’” Serena said, handing Yuri a few yen.

“No brown hair,” Yuri stated casually.

“Stop, I get it already—and it's getting weirder by the minute,” Serena growled.

“Well, what’re we doing next?” Rin asked.

“That kid right there! We weren't sure what he was doing at first, but we just figured out he was hacking into the claw machine!” an officer yelled in their direction.

“Hm?” Yuri turned to the guard and saw he was pointing to Yugo. “Aw, fusion got caught.”

Yugo instantly stood up. “Let's get outta here!” he squealed.

“We should,” Serena agreed, running off.

“Guys, agai—?” Rin was broken off by the boys going off, with Yugo dragging her arm away. “Yuuugo! What did you do!?”

“Sorry! I had to get the plushie, but the machine wasn't being fair!”

“Pretty smart, though!” Serena complimented, running backwards. “If I knew how to hack, I would've done the same thing.”

“But you don't,” Yuri once again teased.

She jumped on him and they wrestled. “I've wanted to do this since earlier!” Making Yuri go “OOF—!” with surprise.

“Oh, you think it's only you?” He fought back.

“Guys!” Rin grumbled. “Right now!?”

She and Yugo had to drag their own counterparts away from each other and out of the place until they both calmed down.

The rest of the day went by with lots of fun.

There was lunch at an Xyzian Burgery Shun recommended, then a walk in the park which included its own set of activities, laser tag, pizza, and a few other things.

Yeah… It was really nice.

The day ended when the two groups parted when they all went back to Pendulum, saying their good-byes to each other and leaving. To go to their own new respective homes.

[factaerrata]

Gotta get back in the game on my rp blogs. So~ If you’re interested, please leave a like if you want to take part in a shipping call. Either to reinforce old ships or suggest new ones. All types of relationships are allowed, not just romantic. Family, friends -- the whole works! All muses are available for ship discussion, too~

[sacredslaycdd]

The only thing I'm really feeling right now is an slightly unhinged Hope who is unravelling from everything that happened in the arena and she pushed down and ends up killing the watcher responsible for the arena, who sold them out because they were 'half breeds'.

So like; if anyone wants to do something with THAT Hope, lemme know. 👀 (I will be taking likes as interest and WILL throw a starter at you. Sincerely, this is a THREAT.)

[dxmence]

.

[detrcitmade]

Me, thinking about Leo and Markus bc of @jericholeader : brothers! Brothers!! BROTHERS!!!

[foxilayde]

Take Over [Steven Grant x Fem!Reader]

Warnings: Oh boy, a lot of them. Marc is OOC, you’ll see what I mean. Savagery. Feet Stuff. Restraints. Rough PIV. Cunnilingus. Biting. Smut. Smutty Smutty Smut Smut Smuuut. 18+ ONLY

Summary: There’s a girl in his bed and a wolf at his door.

Word count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: @paper-n-ashes sent me an ask the other day with some very descriptive language and... well here ya go. 

[gif by @userpoe ]

How did he get here? The question doesn’t have the usual punch of legitimate concern or fear, it’s an exclamation of disbelief that rings in his head. How did he get here? With you? It’s rhetorical this time. He remembers every interaction with you. There doesn’t seem to be any missing pieces. Sunsets on respective balconies, pleasantries on the elevator, mis-delivered packages, the fateful night of the missing keys and a late locksmith; which finally brought you into his direct company. When he fell asleep peacefully on your mid-century couch, no restraints, till the shouts of the locksmith woke him. More tea dates, more mixed mail, going to your apartment to feed Bitty the kitten… and it’s all led to this right here. How did he get here?

You’re straddling him and taking off your top, lifting it over your head desperately, and flinging it with relief. Your periwinkle camisole underneath clings to the curves of your form and you bend over once again to kiss him with swollen lips and to thumb his cheeks with tender hands. Your lips are hot and fast and Steven thinks he just might pass out and miss a few days if he’s not careful.

He knows he should be more… participatory, but as it is he’s already having a hard time breathing. Just laying under you, resting his hands on your thighs is about all he can take. His lack of action doesn’t appear to be slowing you down any and he’s hardly moving his mouth at all when you lick into it.

Don’t be such a fucking starfish, Steven.

That voice. That dreadful fucking voice.

Steven scrunches his eyes closed even more, as if that could stop the cropping up of the man in his mind. The one who is him, and also isn’t.

Kiss her back, lick her tongue, Steven. You know you want to.

It isn’t bad advice. Not bad at all, but Steven can’t help it. It’s pavlovian, the fucking dinner bell of danger. No one wants a voice in their head. Sure, everyone’s got a narrator from time to time, a Jiminy Cricket on their shoulder- but this is different. Steven knows that most people don’t have voices giving them unsolicited advice. And the voice is getting impatient.

If you don’t start doing something, she’s going to leave, shrimp dick. Just let me take over.

That wakes him up a bit. Does the trick- like the puzzles he uses to keep himself at bay from the tides of exhaustion. He wants to be here, he wants to feel you. He wants to lick into your mouth and earn the way that you’re holding him so dearly. But even more so, he doesn’t want the voice to have you. It’s irrational, he thinks, that by sticking his tongue in your mouth he’s saving you from the voice in his head from having you; but it’s the only puzzle piece that fits in his jagged life. In order to save you from the voice, he’ll have to obey it.

You let out the most adorable surprised squeal when his hands come to tangle in the wild mane of your make-out hair. He licks your tongue the way you were licking his, imitating the moves as best he can and earning an aggressive roll of your hips over his straining lap. You taste like cinnamon tea and candied figs. He licks deeper.

That’s more like it. Now her tits.

Steven doesn’t want to be forward like that, even as wanton as you seem, he fears that if he just goes for it- gropes your tits, you’re going to smack him and leave. It’d be just his luck to get a taste and have it walk out of his padlocked door forever. And not only for the lack of the lust you are so generously bestowing; but for tea dates, for mixed mail, the way you smile at him in the elevator sadly and run your knuckles on his cheek telling him that he should get some rest with so much genuine care.

She’s fucking grinding on you. That’s the universal signal for 'grab my tits'.

Again, the voice isn’t wrong. He knows deep down it’s not. And wrong or not, the voice must be obeyed. So Steven’s shaky hands make their way from the base of your neck and tremble all the way down your sternum to the soft blue covering of your pretty chest. So pretty. So soft. You’re so soft here, so Steven touches you softly. Mouth falling open with relieved breath, he forgets to keep licking. He doesn’t think you’re wearing a bra underneath the soft camisole because he can feel the hardness of your nipples underneath the fabric. The stroking of his fingers is feather-light and you press down harder into his lap, pushing your chest more presently into his palms.

You are, amazingly, not running away, you’re pressing closer. He can hardly believe his calibrations were so off. The way you’re always so tender and sweet, he never thought you’d be pushing yourself onto him like this. He strokes the pads of his thumbs across your clothed nipples in tandem, as tentatively as possible, terrified to disrupt the spell you have cast over him.

Not like that, rip her fucking top off and get your mouth on them.

Steven blanches at the aggressive thought. But he wants it too, something dark inside of him wants to see if you’re just as soft under the thin covering. So he hooks his fingers into the hem, where your middle is bare, and testingly drags the fabric up your torso. You hum in approval into his mouth and the sound emboldens him to pull it over your head, and as soon as the kiss is broken by the garment, he sits up and places delicate kisses to your exposed chest. Peppering your soft skin with quick pecks and humming excitedly when he finds that yes indeed you are soft, even softer than the camisole. And warm, warm with a pleasant give when he pushes his lips slowly instead of hurriedly, when he savors your scent and the slight stickiness of perspiration. Even your sweat tastes good. To him you are perfect. Absolutely perfect, like a dream. Just not hisdreams. A good dream.

Bite her nipples. Make her moan.

Steven winces at the voice. He can’t hurt you. He won’t hurt you. He compromises and licks at your nipples instead. You grab his hair with force and push his face closer into the give of your breasts. Steven can’t help but shift his hips up, straining to feel the way your heat soaks out of your tight blue jeans. He sucks a pebbled nipple and whines with pleasure when you scratch his scalp and pull his thick hair.

She wants more. How can you not see that, you pathetic virgin?

God, he’s trying his best, he really is. But he can’t- he simply can’t let the voice have his way fully. If he gives in completely then what’s the fucking difference between him having you and shutting down and giving in, blacking out and sifting through the aftermath? He won’t turn you over to the voice, he fears your sweet softness can’t withstand the absolute beast he feels roaring inside of him; feral to devour you. Steven takes tiny tastes and turns you over, onto your back. God, the way you smile. Steven knows you’re a goddess. A real one. Your head is sunk between the pillows of his bed and he can’t help but laugh in disbelief.

“Are you real?” He asks in earnest.

You bite your bottom lip, still smiling. God he’s afraid of every movement he makes- afraid that something he says or does will make the dream blink out of existence.

“Come here and find out” Your grin is so wide that it squeezes your eyes nearly closed and your giggle forces a disbelieving breath out of him. You lean forward to grab the hem of his shirt, just as he did to you. His shirt catches on his wild curls a bit and you fling it to join your blouse somewhere beyond the ring of sand at the base of his bed.

You’re kissing him again, arms wrapped lovingly around his neck and cradling his head in your forearms. Your naked torso pressed against his own is the most delicious, delightful, dreamy thing he could ever hope for and even if this dalliance doesn’t go beyond this, he’ll treasure the feeling for the rest of his god awful life.

What the hell are you waiting for? Take her fucking pants off and tongue fuck the poor girl. She’s not going to wait much longer, Steven. Like I said, let me step in. I’ll take care of her. I know what she needs.

His hungry kisses falter and you pull back to ask him,

“What’s wrong?”

You’re stroking his cheek again, the same way you did in the elevator and he nearly tells you everything. About the blackouts, about the missing time, about the monster that taunts him even in his happiest hour. But he doesn’t. Instead he asks,

“Can I? Could you? I mean… can I undress you?”

Ha! You’re making her dry with all this weak talk, Steven. The girl doesn’t want your conversation. She wants your cock.

You smile and nod, “Okay, yeah.”

You lie back again, head between his pillows again, and begin unbuttoning your jeans.

Tsk tsk tsk, Steven. Making her do all the work? Next you’ll be asking her to take care of herself while you watch from the corner.

“Shut up!” Steven mutters… and immediately regrets it.

Your eyes go wide with confusion and you cover your chest defensively.

“N-n-n-nno, not you! Not you, never you, never you. Love your voice. You talk as much as you want, sing if you like! I’m talking about.. the upstairs neighbor.”

You squint in concentration, tilting your ear towards his silent ceiling,

“I don’t hear anything…”

Steven dives down and captures your lips with his and unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down your beautiful thighs. It’s the only thing he can think of to do to distract you from his stupid mistake and it amazingly works. He clumsily frees your ankles from the trousers and tosses them into the sand ring.

Nice save, idiot.

Steven stops himself from slapping the side of his head to chastise the voice for interrupting the stunning sight of you. You’re splayed out for him-your knickers are a soft pink lacy thing that makes him want to cry with joy. He doesn’t need the voice to tell him to pull them off of you. And when he does it, it’s with a grunt befitting the animal that lies in the recesses of his brain. A brother of a sound, a wolf of the same pack.

You don’t seem to mind, in fact you emit one of your own at the savagery.  A pleased deep tone that placates the horror in his head. He’s surprised the pink lace comes off in one piece when he plucks it from your lovely feet- dotted with light green varnish. He holds them to his face and inhales before slingshotting them across the room.

Holy shit, where did that come from? What on earth made him do that? He’s not himself completely, is he? The monster, with a foot in the door, bleeds into his purpose and drips along the veins of his hands as he sinks down to your core to capture your begging folds into his mouth.

That’s it, Steven. Don’t be shy. Eat her till she begs you to stop, lick her till there’s nothing left.

There’s no logical way Steven should know to hike your thighs up over his shoulders, but he does so with practiced finesse and settles into you for the long haul, shaking his head side to side in a feral feasting fashion. The action makes you gasp and moan and dig your heels into the flexed muscles of his bare back.

Give into it Steven, see how much she likes it?

He can’t deny that everything about your body is telling him more, more, more. And you’ve been nothing but responsive to the actions. Never pushing him away, only drawing him in deeper, closer, louder, more, more, more.

So he cracks the door a bit wider, unhooks one chain and then another and greets the dark beast; huffing and puffing on the other side. He does not let him over the threshold, but he allows the animal to have a front row view, to scan the interior, to get a good whiff of you. And, fuck, do you smell simply delicious.

His tongue is a wolf’s; he claws the giving meat of your thighs, and If he bites and licks your pussy much harder than he’s already doing, he’s going to draw blood. But judging by the way your feet cling to his lats and how twisted your fists have become in his hair, you might not mind it. You might even like it for all he knows. The thought makes the beast howl and Steven has to rip himself away from your pleading sex before he does something he’ll regret.

That was a close one, Steven. I could fucking taste her.

Steven shivers and he’s not sure why. He gets to his knees and you’re up again, chasing him, sucking his hardened nipple into your mouth and unbuttoning his trousers. You’re acting as ravenous as the beast and he briefly wonders if you could have the same war happening inside of you the way that he does, and if you do, your she-beast is clearly winning out because you bite his nipple. He groans and grits his teeth in pleasure.

You can’t be the same sweet woman who washes his hair in your kitchen sink, who bottle feeds baby kittens. You’re a vixen who is pushing his pants and trousers down to his knees and pushing him down onto his back with eyes like he’s never seen. He’s heard the term ‘bedroom eyes’ and now he’s got a visual to pair with it.

He kicks his pants and trousers off his feet and his eyes are round as coins when you take him in hand and lower yourself onto him. You’re breaking yourself open on his cock and Steven is back at square one, it seems, with his hands resting limply on your thighs and his mouth slack and dumb. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he knows this is real. This isn’t a dream. It’s far too lovely.

Steven forgets the voice, forgets life entirely, the only thing in the universe that means anything to him is your undulating form of soft curves and sweet smells. He reads the pleasure on your face and he can hardly believe that just lying there is making your face twist with pleasure, making your walls pulse and clench. You drag your fingernails down his chest and the voice is back.

Fucking starfish. Goddamnit Steven, fuck the poor girl or I’ll do it for you.

Steven growls and snaps his hips up, punching a sharp breath out of you and earns himself a deeper nail dig into his chest. He gathers your wrists in one palm and lifts them up over your head while he sits up and and he pushes you down onto your back, hands above your head. He’s going to keep you tied up nice and tight and behave for him, to be a good girl for him. He latches the ankle restraint at the corner of his bed around your crossed wrists. He then wraps the loose cord around the post so it’s taut-  and now your body is stretched out for him like a grecian vase that he intends to break. Steven blinks rapidly.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t know why I did that…”

His fingers shake as he goes to undo the restraint, fumbling with the leather strap. He’s such an idiot, what made him do that? Horrible call. Dreadful, you’ll do more than slap him, you’ll knee him in the groin and throw sand in his eyes before you leave and he’ll deserve it.

“Steven, Steven… Steven!” You shout to snap him out of whatever path his mind just went along. His fingers stop and he’s on the verge of crying. That’s all you need, to go home with his tears on you. Lord.

But you surprise him when you tell him to “leave them on” “really” “I like it”. The phrases don’t make sense. You like being tied up?

Fucking hell Steven. She’s practically begging you to manhandle her, to fuck her hard, and you’re going to fucking cry on her. Ladies and gentlemen, the real life forty year old virgin!

Steven doesn’t have time to be upset. Through the fog of confusion, of back and forth, up or down, he can feel your only free extremities jerking him off. Your knees are bent wildly and your pretty pale green toes are playing with his still slick cock, sliding up and down in a cute clumsy fashion. Trying to get him to full mast after he deflated from panic. You’re biting your lip at him wickedly and a snarl rips through his chest and he’s back on top of you. His hands skim up the pulled-taut lateral muscles of your stretched form. Fuck. You’re a beauty. A dream. No, not a dream. A mirage. An oasis he intends to drain.

He licks into your slack mouth and he’s hard again in no time. He doesn’t even need to grip himself to push into you. With a flawless motion he hitches your thigh over his hip and he slides into your hot fluttering flesh without breaking the kiss, drinking your moans and your cries.

That’s more like it! Attaboy, Steven.

The voice is his cheerleader now, his teammate. He fucks into you with an animal savagery he didn’t know was possible, folding your hips into your middle and punching the breath out of you with every fucking thrust, as if the goal was to wake the building with your muffled screams of sharp pleasure.

He absorbs what he can of it. Of the helpless cries, made further helpless with the way you look: like a supine bunny rabbit in a snare. The thought makes him even harder and he grinds up into the base of your cervix, curious as to how long he’ll have to stay here, grinding harshly into your mound, before tears start to prick the corners of your eyes. He rocks his hips so slowly, but with enough force to keep a linebacker down. He wonders peripherally if he can crack your hips by doing this to you. Maybe if you were on the hardwood floor. Probably not the bed… probably not.

Your knees shake at his sides and you gasp for air and he can feel it. Fuck. He can feel you quake and pulse and suck at him. It’s the most powerful fucking feeling in the world and he licks your quivering lips like he owns them.

“S-steven…” You moan. The sound is trembling and small and you gasp, cumming around his forceful hardness. Your hips attempt to buck up into him, but he’s pressed so damn hard onto you that the movement does nothing but shift his cock electrically against your spongy insides. The action sends him over the edge. An immediate thin sheen of sweat coats his body, adding to the slickness and he slides in deeper to you, shooting his load into your womb. Marking you on the inside. His teeth find your neck and bite, creating a matching external claim.

Mine, mine, mine.

The voice chants. He agrees.

END

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

This tag list is INSANE lmao, if you wish to be removed, just dm me, no hard feelings I promise. Love ya, sluts.

@roanniom @jedi-mando @santiagogarcia@supernovafeather@paper-n-ashes @veuliee @soyelfuegoquearde@montygirl @wyn-dixie @witchyavenger @writefightandflightclub@isvvc-pvscvl  @picklesgoose @mylifeisactuallyamess  @general-latino@winniedaboo96-blog @youvebeenlivingfictional@aerolanya@tlcwrites @revolution-starter @mariesackler@millllenniawrites@woakiees @dreamingindigital @writing-in-april@nowritingonthewall @waatermelon-sugaar @pumpkin-stars@kesskirata @budcooper @kikis-writing-world @blackberries45@teacore-hunny  @beepboopyoda @jellybelle @hotchlover-blog @ophelialoveshandsomemen  @samspade @emilykjh@writefightandflightclub @gottalovethefandom @temptressofwaikiki @mstgsmy @brandyllyn @autumnleaves1991-blog @abelslittlebunny @moon-kn1ght @thedukeofcaladan @winchestershiresauce  @miraclesabound @sunfairyy @ozarkthedog @smiley-asylum @princessxkenobi @batsycatsyclown @themartiansdaughter 

[slutforsilverfoxes]

can you do part 2 of the sierra six smut where they meet again?? I absolutely loved it !!!

A/N: Wild Child by the Black Keys is such a perfect outro for The Gray Man- I also think it’s perfect for describing Six & reader’s relationship. This fic admittedly wrote itself over the past couple of weeks, and it just kept getting longer and longer 🥲 I don’t know if I like how it progressed because I’ve finished bits and pieces of it at odd hours whilst in the hospital, but I hope y’all like it! It’s got a lil dash of every genre thrown in there (ya girl loves her flavor 👩🏾‍🍳) Also I apologize in advance if anything seems OOC for Court, I did my best but I’m still nervous about writing for him 🙈

Tags: @ejhpmarvelsimp

———

“Contact?”

“Negative,” you readjust the comm device in your ear and pull your lipstick out of your handbag, pursing your lips in the car’s rearview mirror to apply a shock of red. “Oasis is too smart for that. Just tailing for now.”

“Timeline?” your handler follows up bluntly, pulling an eye roll from you in retaliation.

“Can you speak in more than two syllables? You know, sometimes you’re the only person I speak to for weeks at a time.”

“Do you have an estimated timeline?”

You sigh, muttering out a, “Thank you,” for the technical adherence to your request before laying out the details of your proposed op. “…and that should give me the in to confirm that she’s distributing Rainbow,” you conclude. “So at least three weeks to make contact, get comfy, and catch her in the act.”

“Can we accelerate that to two weeks?”

“No,” you make a face in the mirror, grateful that the conversation is audio only. “I’m going to need a little more time to catch a soccer mom by day, cartel head by night.”

“Affirmative, Agent. Carmichael wants a status report in 72 hours.”

The line goes dead with a soft click as you mock your handler under your breath, “Carmichael wants a status report in 72 hours. Yeah? Well, Denny can suck my left tit, fucking-”

You continue grumbling as you climb out of the car and sling your purse over your shoulder before dropping your features into a bored expression and tucking a pair of stupidly expensive sunglasses into your hair- more of a statement piece than protective eyewear, really.

Snagging a shopping cart from just outside the entrance, you step into the grocery store and begin cruising down the aisles on the hunt for your target. You eventually find her by the fresh produce, judiciously sniffing limes in an apparent search for freshness. Your facial muscles twitch with the urge to frown at the odd display, but instead you suppress your natural inclination and force a smile as her gaze lifts to meet yours. She flashes her pearly whites in return, none the wiser, and you direct your eyes toward the aromatics. You don’t want her growing suspicious, and you’re fairly confident not even Oasis would have the balls to be openly dealing Rainbow in the produce section of the only grocery store in town.

She turns her way down an aisle and you toss some parsley and thyme into your cart with a shrug before easing into the parallel aisle, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips at the sight before you.

Who but Sierra fucking Six is standing in the middle of the bakery and breakfast section, arguing about the merits of chocolate versus fruit-flavored cereal with a teenage girl, a box of each dwarfed in his large hands. Having apparently relented to the young girl’s whims, he tosses both boxes in their cart before leaning against the handle as he plans out his next tactical move, easing a scrap of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans. You can’t help but follow the movement of his nimble fingers as they search his pocket, marveling over the way the denim hugs his muscular legs and the curve of his ass. Letting your gaze travel back up, heat floods your cheeks at the way his t-shirt stretches over his taut muscles, the fabric looking almost comical, the seams practically begging to be let out as they suffocate on his biceps. He smooths a hand over his goatee as he laughs at something the teen said, the movement drawing your eyes further upward. His honey-blonde hair has grown out a bit since you last saw him, still neatly trimmed but now with a few loose strands falling across his forehead. Despite physically looking the same, there’s a different air to Six. He seems almost… comfortable.

Domesticity suits him well (and somehow manages to make him even more attractive), and you find your thoughts wandering to his role in this girl’s life. Is he a single dad? Uncle? Is she his latest protective assignment?

The duo disappears in the blink of an eye and you half-wonder if your target slipped some of her product into the veggie sprinklers causing you to hallucinate. There’s no way you’re seeing Six stateside in a grocery store in the middle of Nowhere, USA after spending eight months traipsing across Europe.

Clearing your thoughts with a slight shake of your head, you catch up to your target and continue following her around the store, absentmindedly tossing grocery items into your cart and stopping to peruse the wine rack as she does the same.

An alluring mix of cologne and distinct masculine musk wafts over you sending your sympathetic nervous system into overdrive, your heart thudding against your ribcage.

Evidently you hadn’t been drugged.

“That white pairs great with a good branzino,” an all too familiar silky voice drapes languidly across your body causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

Without looking up, you retort, “Thanks for the advice, but I won’t be enjoying it. It’s for my boss.”

“Does your boss have a Prada purse,” he murmurs by your ear, his sheer proximity making you shiver, “because she’s looking this way.”

“I’m sure everything in this town with a pulse is looking this way,” you shoot back, still unwilling to meet his eyes.

“Then let’s give them something to look at.” You register the teasing lilt to his voice moments before his fingers are tucking under your chin, tilting your head up to press his supple lips against your own.

The bottle of wine remains in your hand as you throw your arms around his neck in an attempt to get as close as physically possible, your eyelids fluttering closed as memories of your night together pervade your senses.

“Y/N,” he growled softly, deep voice bringing you out of your reverie. You picked your head up to find his gaze locked on yours, the sight of his lust blown pupils and reddened lips causing your breath to come out in sharp pants. “Eyes on me.”

And then his mouth was on you, consuming you from the inside out and trapping you in a world of him until the only discernible word falling from your lips was his name.

“Nice to see you again, old timer,” you whisper against his lips, pulling back with a smile, finally opening your eyes and instantly drowning in a sea of blue.

“Told you I’d find you, kid,” a triumphant smirk has the audacity to grace his beautiful mouth.

“Uh no,” you hold up a finger in contradiction, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Oasis is still in sight, “technically I found you.”

“But were you looking for me?”

“Shut up,” you place your hand against his chest and shove, only succeeding in moving him a few inches but enough to ease the wine bottle into your cart. The man is more tree than human and the unbidden image of you climbing his body flashes through your mind.

“So,” he breaks you out of your lustful thoughts, leaning against your cart handle and offering you the perfect window to track your target as you talk- she’s suddenly very interested in the white wine, her eyes darting over to the two of you every so often- “what’s your boss got you up to these days?”

“Mergers and acquisitions, the usual,” you shrug easily. Murders and asset retrieval.

“New business in town?” He cocks an eyebrow out of curiosity, fingers slipping into the front pocket of his jeans before returning triumphantly with a piece of gum.

Your mouth goes dry as he wets his lips before snagging the rectangle between his teeth, torturously pulling the pink gum into his mouth bit by bit. “A colorful one,” you rasp out, subtly keying him in to your operation surrounding the quiet expansion of Rainbow.

He nods in acknowledgment, chewing thoughtfully. “So I’ll be seeing you around.” He presses a kiss to your lips, turns on his heel, and disappears in a wave of woodsy cologne, the faint taste of watermelon gum, and a parting wink thrown over his shoulder.

———

Days later you’re parked in the school carpool lane gathering intel on Oasis and her teenagers, your sedan four vehicles behind her massive SUV. You let your head rest against the cracked driver-side window as your eyes scan the parents and guardians milling about. Your eyes continue cataloguing faces as your brain checks out, thoughts drifting to your friendly neighborhood blonde-haired, blue-eyed, sinfully-tongued former partner in crime. You haven’t seen him since that day in the grocery store, and even though you’re grateful that he hasn’t been around to distract you, you can’t help but expect him to be walking along every corner you round. Although, truth be told, you’d be very surprised to see Six at the establishments that Oasis frequents.

Your mind drifts back for the umpteenth time this week to a moment you shared at HQ with Agent Miranda after you picked up your dossier for this op. “Quaint little town, nice change of pace,” she smiled as you crossed paths in the hall. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she tacked on, “Watch out for Six!”

You’ve spent one too many brain cells analyzing and overanalyzing her words- surely she meant Watch your six, and happened to mix up the idiom. But Dani was nothing if not intentional with her diction, and you swore you’d heard her correctly. If that was the case, had she and Six stayed in touch since his curious departure from the agency? Had the Sierra Six, the Gray Man, the expert silent assassin, Mister No Worldly Possessions or Connections been…asking about you?

Your passenger door suddenly flies open, the hulking form taking up space in your mind rent-free folding its way into your car, the familiar whiff of cologne forcing your coiled muscles to relax- marginally.

“Put the safety back on, cowgirl.”

“Why?” you demand, no patience for pleasantries.

“Because I like my face intact. Nails look pretty,” he juts his chin to indicate your fresh manicure, courtesy of your target’s weekly visits for fill-ins.

“No,” you refine your question coolly, retracting your trigger finger and replacing the safety on your weapon, “why are you here? In my car? Potentially blowing my cover?”

“Came to pick up my Claire, saw you,” he shrugs as if this is an everyday occurrence for two highly trained operatives, glancing at passerby and students on the sidewalk to ensure no one’s taken an interest in you two.

“Your Claire, hm?” You raise your coffee cup to your lips and take a long drag, the combination of the caffeine and heat sending your neurons buzzing.

“Kind of my niece, kind of my little sister,” he elaborates, keeping an eye out the window for her. “She’s Fitz’s niece, but y’know how our life goes,” he shrugs again, the only semblance of emotion he’ll allow himself to show. “So she’s my Claire now.”

“Court,” your lips pull into a frown and you reach for his hand on instinct, catching the subtle lift of the corner of his mouth in response. The simple gesture is enough for him to understand what you’re trying to say.

“Kid and I have a pretty good thing going here, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a lady friend in her life,” he muses softly, studiously watching the middle schoolers fly out the front doors and avoiding your gaze as if you’ll be able to see all of his vulnerabilities and insecurities in his stormy eyes.

Sensing an opportunity to break down another one of his walls, you cry out, “Why, yes, Court, I will marry you!”

He barks out a laugh and shakes his head, playfully knuckling against the soft skin of your cheek as your mouth twists into a wry smile. “Let’s start with dinner first.” He eases the passenger door open and steps out onto the sidewalk, offering you a slip of paper between his index and middle fingers through the crack of the window.

You unfold the paper to find a local address in his scrawl, calling to his retreating back, “What time?”

“Guess.”

———

You rock back and forth on your heels on the doorstep at six in the evening, a fresh bottle of the fateful white wine in your hands. The paneling detail on the front door is suddenly fascinating, allowing you to hyper-focus on anything but the nerves fluttering in your stomach. You’ve taken out corrupt diplomats, toppled drug cartels, faced some of the most dangerous men and women that the devil himself would shy away from, all by your mid-twenties, yet you’ve got butterflies in your tummy at the prospect of failing to earn a teenage girl’s approval.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

If you’re honest with yourself, you’re not sure why you’re nervous. Operatives don’t have the luxury of falling in love and playing house. Sure, you enjoyed your time with the Sierra and the sex was incredible, but you both know that nothing more could ever come of this. Y’know how our life goes, Six himself had said, and he was damn right.

“You must be Y/N.” You lift your eyes to meet the brunette’s sharp gaze, her eyes quietly scrutinizing you as she does a subtle once over.

“You must be Claire,” you offer your hand in greeting and she shakes it firmly, all business.

She spots the floral tattoo on your shoulder and the corner of her mouth lifts in a manner matching that of her guardian, “I like your ink.” Claire cranes her neck to gaze further into the house and you hear a huff in response to her unspoken question.

“Absolutely not.”

“But-”

“Nope,” Six comes into view and pulls the door open further, beckoning you inside.

“Regretting adding that lady friend to her life?” you tease as you step through the doorway, toeing off your shoes in the corner of the foyer as Claire grumbles on about almost an adult and annoyingly overprotective.

“Not quite yet, but I’m sure we’ll get there,” he smirks at you, enjoying the way your nose scrunches indignantly in response. You follow the two of them into the dining room, your mouth immediately beginning to water at the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. “When’s the last time you had a proper home-cooked meal?” Court asks with a smile as he places your proffered wine bottle on the table.

“Properly? Ten years, give or take,” you shrug, your voice dropping to nearly a whisper as you busy yourself playing with the hem of your shirt. You honestly can’t remember the last time you had a nice dinner with enjoyable company, not at a group home or hostel, not on a honey-pot mission, not memorizing a dossier on a shitty hotel couch while forcing down a frozen meal before heading out under the cover of night.

In a surprising display of affection that makes your chest warm for reasons you don’t have time to unpack, Court presses his lips against your temple, bringing you back to the present. “Then I sincerely hope you enjoy this one.”

“And I sincerely hope you didn’t go through all this trouble just for me.”

You follow him into the kitchen to help, taking the plates Claire passes to you from the cabinet as she quietly confides, “We definitely ordered in but someone was very particular about the menu.”

You and Six fall into a comfortable silence as Claire chats about her day, setting forks on the placemats as you gently lay the plates down behind her. You watch, mesmerized, as the blonde nimbly uncorks the sweet wine and divvies it up between your glasses. Something about setting the table together, doing such a normal nuclear family activity, humanizes the two of you, and you’re surprised that the motions have come back to you so naturally.

Six eases your chair out and you smile up at him as you take your seat. Dinner progresses with easy conversation, but then the agent in you senses the shift in the air and you know the teen is gearing up for trouble.

“So…” Claire drags out the word, flaking off a piece of the immaculately cooked fish, “how did you meet Six?”

“Work,” the two of you rush out in unison, meeting each other’s gaze across the table. Claire smirks knowingly at her guardian and Six makes a face at her in response, mouthing something you can’t quite catch.

Raising an eyebrow and looking between the two of them you ask, “Am I missing something here?”

“Don’t answer that,” he threatens playfully with a pointed finger at the youngster.

She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows, and you can’t help the grin that appears on your face from their shared mannerisms. “Are you gonna let me try the wine?”

“For the second time this evening, absolutely not.”

“Fine,” Claire smiles angelically, turning her full attention towards you. “Courtland’s been talking about you nonstop for the past couple weeks.”

He growls something unintelligible and your hand flies to your mouth, hiding your chuckle in a cough.

“Don’t choke,” Court admonishes, his tone implying that he wouldn’t be too upset if you happened to suffer for just a moment.

“Thanks for your concern, Courtland,” you simper.

“As I was saying,” Claire clears her throat to redirect your attention, a smug smile gracing her features, “some days I still can’t get more than three words out of him, but suddenly he’s thinking about you and turns into quite the conversationalist.”

“That’s interesting,” you pause to sip your wine, an eyebrow arching in Six’s direction, “because he was very vocal when we first met.”

His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow at your innuendo, and you both know you’re thinking about his low grunts and growls as he fucked you all those months ago. Nothing if not consistent, he merely grunts now in acknowledgement.

“What’s the matter, Court?” you smile easily. “Cat got your tongue?”

He clears his throat and stands from the table abruptly- a bold move considering his dick is already stiffening at the thought of your soft skin beneath his fingertips once again. “Dessert, anyone?”

“You know I’ll never turn down ice cream,” Claire grins.

You scoot your chair back from the table, gathering the plates as you stand. “I’ll come help.”

“Oh, I bet you will,” the blonde grumbles under his breath, subtly adjusting his pants as he walks to the kitchen.

You purposefully brush up against him on your way to the sink and he bites back a groan. “Do you not have work to do tonight, Agent?”

“Drug pushing mommy’s gotta sleep,” you shrug, rinsing the plates off, “and so do I.”

“Just sleep?” he murmurs in your ear, gliding his nose down the curve of your neck and pressing his body against you so you can feel the full weight of his question.

You let your head fall back with a sigh offering him better access to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Court,” it’s a whine, a plea, a gentle nudge in the right direction.

“Suspiciously quiet in there!” the teenager calls from the dining room, earning herself a low, chastising, “Claire…”

“You’re quite the daddy,” you test the waters with your compliment, relishing the way his eyes flash at the title and filing that tidbit away for later.

His gaze drops to your parted lips and he licks his own before pulling away and opening the freezer. “Vanilla or chocolate?” he asks calmly, appreciating the cold snapping him back to his senses.

“Chocolate,” you hum, unable to resist the urge to slap his ass as he’s bent over perusing the shelves. He jumps at the sudden contact and you laugh delightedly at your ability to keep arguably the world’s greatest assassin on edge. “I’m not a big fan of vanilla.”

———

Your earpiece crackles to life later that night, your handler’s tinny voice coming through with, “Where the fuck are you, Y/L/N?”

“Little,” you breathe out, “busy right now.” Court grins wickedly, languidly kissing down your nearly naked body and dragging his stubble against your sensitive skin before nipping along the meat of your thigh.

“That’s not an answer. Why is your heart rate skyrocketing?”

“Oh, y’know,” you suck in air through your teeth as the handsome devil nuzzles your folds over your panties, forcing you to bite down on your hand to avoid becoming a little too familiar with your handler. “Went for a run.”

You tug sharply on Six’s locks to get him to stop, but the feeling of your nails against his scalp serves the opposite purpose. He yanks the frilly fabric covering your core down with a vengeance and presses the flat of his tongue against your folds, your hips rising of their own accord to meet his mouth halfway.

“Do you have an update for Carmichael?”

Your eyelids flutter shut when he nuzzles your clit with his nose, darting the tip of his tongue just past your wet folds. You force your eyes open and turn your head to the nightstand, focusing on the glaring 10:17 looking back at you.

“Can I get you a report in the morning?”

“Do you want to piss Denny off?”

“God, you’re annoyingly persistent,” you huff at both your handler and the blonde between your legs looking up at you with a sinful smile. “This operation goes a lot-” your voice catches in your throat and your head drops back against the pillow as Court plunges his tongue inside you, “deeper than I initially thought.”

“Elaborate.”

“I’m getting an intimate view of her soldiers,” you rasp out, subconsciously clamping your thighs around Six’s head as he eats you out like a man possessed, fingers digging into your skin to keep you down against the bed. “Need some more time to figure out their pecking order.”

“And then you’ll infiltrate?”

“Mhm, yeah, I’m close!” You hurriedly end the connection and release the wanton moan that’s been growing in your throat throughout the infuriating conversation, enjoying the way Court growls against your pussy in response. “I was serious,” you half laugh, half cry out, “about being close, Court.”

“I can feel it,” he rumbles, “so give it to me.” And then his tongue is spearing in and out of you, mapping out your most sensitive spots, curling in the most delicious of ways, devouring you, consuming you. He splays his fingers across your stomach to hold you in place as he feasts on you, his thumb moving to trace tight circular patterns around your clit and pushing you over the edge into sheer ecstasy. You cover your mouth with your hand as his name repeatedly falls past your lips like a prayer, keenly aware of the sleeping teen just down the hall.

“You look so beautiful like this,” Court sighs almost reverently, leaning on his elbows to brush his lips against yours as he smiles down at your blissfully fucked-out face.

You let your tongue slip into his mouth and tangle lazily with his, the fact that you can taste yourself on him making you delirious with desire. Trailing your fingers down his bare back, you tuck your hands under the waistband of his pants and squeeze his ass before shoving his remaining clothing down his muscular legs. He chuckles against your mouth at the sensation as he kicks off his pants and boxers, moving to kiss along your jaw as he eases his deliciously hard cock between your folds, teasing but not yet pushing into you. “Please,” you whine out, wrapping your legs around his lower back and pressing your heels against the taut muscle there, urging him to give in, to fill you up.

You confess around a gasp, “I’ve been thinking about this for the past eight months,” as Court mercifully slots himself between your thighs. He cups your jaw and presses his nose against the hollow of your throat as he rocks against you, drawing out a whine from the very depths of your being. Your heart flutters in your ribcage as he returns his lips to your own, your tongues tangling unhurriedly in a sensuous dance as he curves his hands around your shoulders and bottoms out with each gentle thrust. You realize, somewhat terrifyingly, that this doesn’t feel like your previous encounter when you were desperate to connect with another human and feel alive again. He’s taking his time with you, kissing you like his life depends on it, gently guiding you both towards orgasm. This man is leaving a brand on your soul, and you’re suddenly glad that your life is one of solitude because, you know now with an earth-shattering sense of clarity, no other lover will ever compare to him. Your chest swells with an uncharacteristic warmth at the thought as the coil in your belly snaps and you tighten around him, encouraging him to please fill me up, Court, please.

Last time, he made you feel human; now, he makes you feel whole.

You tuck yourself against his solid form, sharing lazy kisses as you card your fingers through his hair and bask in your afterglow when you suddenly sit up with a start, something Claire said over dinner having poked through your subconscious. “How long have you been keeping tabs on me?”

He rises slowly, brushing your hair onto your shoulder and pressing kisses to your neck. “Hm?”

“Court,” you admonish softly, “how long?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, now nibbling along your jaw in a blatant attempt to distract you.

“Claire said you’ve been talking about me for weeks. I’ve been here for eight days. Fess up.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Oh my god,” you smack his chest with the back of your hand as another realization dawns on you and he winces playfully. “You knew I was getting this op before I did!”

He falls back onto the pillow, folding his arms behind his head to watch you put the pieces together and making you want to forego your interrogation in lieu of wrapping your legs around him once more. “Did I?”

“And,” you force yourself to focus, “you have been tracking where I am through Dani, which means I’m not crazy and she really did say ‘Watch out for Six’!”

“Did she now?”

“I’ve been trying to convince myself she said ‘Watch your six’ for longer than I’d like to admit.”

“Loud guns have been known to cause hearing loss.”

“Courtland,” you growl out, “that is such a gross breach of confidentiality.” You huff, crossing your arms before begrudgingly admitting, “But it’s also weirdly sweet.”

“In that case,” he smiles angelically, “I’ve been checking on you since you walked down that hallway in Prague.”

“You could’ve called. Emailed. Relayed a message through Dani. Sent a fucking pigeon or something.”

“Y’know, the kids call it ‘tweeting’ these days.”

“You are-”

“Hilarious? Charming?”

“Infuriating,” you grumble, tugging the bedsheet up over your body and purposefully lying down facing away from him. He wraps one arm around you and effortlessly pulls you closer, your smaller form perfectly slotting into the curve of his large body. “I don’t like you.”

“Yeah? Glad we cleared that up,” he counters easily, slipping his arm under your head and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Courtland.”

“I will forever regret telling Claire my name.”

———

You wake the next day with a smile on your face, enveloped by the slightly spicy, woodsy scent that you’ve subconsciously come to associate with a sense of security. Rolling onto your side with a groan, you find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt neatly folded into a pile in place of Court’s body. You wash up in the bathroom before donning the change of clothes, cuffing the pant legs to fit your petite frame. Following the scent of brewing coffee, you head into the kitchen and are greeted with the sight of Court in a strikingly similar casual outfit, hovering over the stove.

“Morning,” you hum, slipping onto one of the barstools and leaning your chin in your hands.

“Good morning,” he answers over his shoulder in return, stealing the very breath from your lungs with a dazzling smile. “Clothes fit okay?”

“Okay enough,” you laugh, sticking your leg out from behind the island counter so he can admire your handiwork.

“Good,” he nods once in approval, then turns his attention back to the stove. “Got some scrambled eggs and bacon going, coffee should be finishing up.”

You hop off the stool and snag two mugs from the cabinet, filling them nearly to the brim with room for a dash of creamer and enough sugar to satisfy your sweet tooth. The two of you move as easily through preparing breakfast as you had on your mission eight months ago, the memory bringing a smile to your face. Claire joins you in the kitchen a short time later, dropping her backpack onto the stool you’d vacated earlier and sharing a smile with her guardian as he slides a plate in front of her. “You two enjoy your sleepover?”

“Hey,” Court snaps his fingers with his eyes narrowed playfully, “eat your breakfast and get your ass in the car within the next fifteen minutes, Fitzroy.”

“You’d think you’d be in a better mood this morning, Gentry,” she shoots back, a gleam in her eye as she scoops up a forkful of eggs.

“Incredible, it’s like pay-per-view,” you mutter delightedly over the lip of your mug.

“You should hang out here all the time, we’re very entertaining,” Claire offers nonchalantly, and Court turns to you with one eyebrow quirked.

“What’s this whole thing you’ve got going on?” you question, pointing to your own brow. “Does that mean you concur?”

“I was gonna offer myself, but I wanted to talk to the kid first,” he shrugs with an easy smile. “I’ve stayed in enough of the agency’s sad apartments to know that our place is a substantial improvement.”

It turns out to be much more than a substantial improvement.

Over the next three weeks, you find yourself seamlessly blending into the household, using the two of them as your cover on family outings to track Oasis and her family. You and your once impromptu partner team up again on Friday nights, going on dates at the restaurants your target and her husband frequent- and God, does the blonde clean up nicely, a simple pair of slacks, a tight shirt, and a jacket accenting his muscles in just the right places. Most days, you return from your time ingratiating yourself with Oasis’ right hand men to Court and Claire either working at the dining room table or spread out on the couch watching a movie, a spot under the blanket calling your name. Court has taken to making your coffee just the way you like it every morning (all the while ribbing you about how it’s arguably more sugar than caffeine) while you prepare three lunches for the day ahead. He waits for you to return home every evening so you don’t dine alone, and you climb into the king-sized bed together every night, sometimes exploring each other’s bodies until dawn breaks, sometimes cuddling and talking about anything and everything until you drift off to a suspiciously restful sleep.

You find yourself lulled into a level of domesticity that you could get used to, a thought that both scares and excites you to your core. It’s the closest you’ve come to being part of a family in years, and the idea of losing it when this op ends makes your heart ache with a pain you swore you’d locked away the day you joined the agency.

———

“I’ve got the popcorn!” you sing, inelegantly flopping onto the couch and tucking your legs under you with the bowl in your lap on your fourth weekend at Casa FitzGentry, as you’ve come to privately call it. Court takes up his spot next to you, Claire settling into his other side before situating the large blanket across your little group and nodding for you to scoot the snack into Court’s lap. You reach forward to press play on the remote, starting yet another cheesy heist movie that you and the former Sierra enjoy critiquing as thunder rumbles in the distance. Halfway through the film, the power flickers momentarily and you and Court share a look, his hands almost imperceptibly tightening their grip around the two of you. Claire huffs quietly, used to the agent’s slight paranoia from a life spent looking over his shoulder, but she tucks herself further into the crook of her guardian’s arm nonetheless. The rest of the movie progresses uneventfully, and Claire lets out a yawn before bidding the two of you goodnight, smiling as you both insist that she lock her door- at least for tonight.

Assured that the teen is safe in her windowless room, you and Court decide to take up residence on the couch for the night, the living room being closer to Claire than the master bedroom down the hall.

“Court?” you whisper into the darkness, absentmindedly pulling his hand into your lap and tracing random patterns along his rough palm as you watch the hallway, the former Sierra’s eyes trained on the front door.

“Hm?”

Genuine fear- not for yourself, but for the young girl you’ve come to appreciate as a friend and the closest thing you’ve got to family- roils in your gut, rearing its ugly head and reminding you why operatives don’t form connections. “I’m sorry for bringing this home.”

A flash of lightning illuminates the ranch house, and you hone in on a figure clad in all black in the hallway, your eyes narrowing, jaw setting, heart rate kicking into gear. Court squeezes your hand in acknowledgment before you part, and you creep silently down the hall, an animalistic growl escaping your throat when you recognize the door the intruder is gearing up to kick down. The point of your elbow connects with the soft flesh of his throat, reducing his shock to nothing but a soft gurgle as his hyoid bone gives way with a sickening crunch. He falls to the floor gasping for breath and you take the advantage to climb on top of his body, straddling his hips as he weakly tries to fight you off. You grab fistfuls of his shirt and bodily slam his head against the hardwood floor once, twice, three times, your breath coming in sharp intervals through your flared nostrils.

A strong pair of arms twists around your waist and you turn sharply, ready to fight for your life until a soothing, “Easy there, easy,” floats over your ears in the pitch darkness.

Your heart rate immediately starts slowing and a vague memory about a reflex in the aorta flashes unbidden through your mind from a high school science class. “I’m good,” you nod with a sniff, shaking out of Court’s grip.

“Yeah?” He flicks the hallway light on, raising an eyebrow at the crimson scene painted before you. “You usually don’t get this messy.”

“My targets usually don’t threaten my family,” you respond coolly, dragging the body away from Claire’s door before leaving to call your cleanup crew. Mind racing with tactics to accelerate your endgame and annihilate Oasis for this blatant attack, you miss the smile that flashes across Court’s face at your mention of your little crew as family.

You turn at the sound of crunching gravel as you end your call, the sight of the still-half-asleep teen splayed across Court’s back causing warmth to rise in your chest again, a feeling that’s occurring a tad too frequently for your liking around these two in particular.

Feelings make you weak, weakness makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability ends with a trip to the morgue.

Court drapes Claire along the backseat of your sedan, tucking his jacket under her head as a pillow before slipping into the passenger seat as you fold yourself behind the wheel. You take a circuitous route to your assigned rental apartment to ensure you’re not being followed, and you carry the minimal luggage Court hastily threw together as he piggybacks the teen upstairs. After getting Claire situated in the small bed, the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder on the floor at the foot of the bed as she sleeps, both your eyes and your silenced weapons trained on the apartment door.

As the first streaks of sunlight bathe the room in warm hues, Court allows himself to nod off knowing that you’ll keep his Claire safe, his head lolling against your shoulder. You press your lips to his forehead, whispering three words that you haven’t uttered in over a decade, tears welling in your eyes at the realization that you can, in fact, still feel such depth of emotion. A renewed sense of purpose grows within you as the sun rises, and by the time your two sleeping beauties awake, you’ve made up your mind.

———

“Oasis has proven herself to be a greater threat than we originally anticipated. Permission to execute.”

“Negative, Agent, we need her alive and in custody to connect the dots on the expansion of Rainbow in other areas throughout the Midwest that you’ve uncovered.”

“Terry,” you rarely address your handler directly, hoping your use of his name forces him to understand the weight behind your words, “she’s willing to go to extreme lengths to protect this operation. She sent a hitman after my- to my apartment,” you recover quickly, cursing yourself for allowing a semblance of idyllic family life to affect your judgment. How had you managed to make such a mess of things?

“Christ, Y/L/N,” his sigh crackles through your earpiece. “Any idea how your identity got compromised?”

“None,” you answer honestly, disappointed in yourself for not only failing to complete your mission cleanly, but also for putting the people you’ve come to care about at risk. “What’s the exfil plan here?”

“Y/L/N? It’s Carmichael.” Oh joy. “Proceed with the op as planned, but accelerate the execution phase to tonight. Bring her into custody and then report to HQ tomorrow morning so we can figure out how exactly you fucked this up.”

“But she knows who I am, knows what I look like.”

“Are you saying you can’t get it done?”

“No, I-” you pinch the bridge of your nose and release your breath in a slow exhale. “I’ll figure it out and report back to you when I have her detained.”

“Good girl.”

———

You slip back into the apartment just after three in the morning, peeling off your jumper soaked through with blood, sweat, and rain, slumping against the door with a sigh. After a few breaths to compose yourself, you shuffle further into the apartment and are met with Court sprawled across the small couch, his arm draped over his forehead. He mumbles something under his breath and you move closer. “What’d you say?”

“Asked if another cunt was successfully incapacitated,” he repeats, the shock of his question and impeccable memory causing an incredulous giggle to escape your lips.

“Fuck,” you hiss through your laughter, instinctively grabbing at your smarting ribs. “That bitch is lucky my directive was to have her detained. Otherwise she’d be six feet under with her boy toys right now.”

You lift his legs up, easing your sore body onto the couch before laying his legs back down across your lap. “You don’t have to go, Y/N.”

Your eyes dart to meet his baby blues, piercing through your soul in the darkness. “I didn’t say-”

“You made up your mind this morning. I could hear it in your voice.”

“Courtland,” you sigh, pushing your hair off of your sweaty face.

“Don’t government name me,” he grumbles, moving to sit up and pull your head against his chest. You’re shaking, but you can’t pinpoint whether it’s from exhaustion, fear, or a mix of both. “You’re a damn good agent, but you don’t have to be a CIA pawn for the rest of your life. You can go into private work, too.” His fingers trace a gentle pattern along your spine, encouraging you to take as deep of a breath as you can muster in your present condition.

“I haven’t done my time, haven’t helped enough people. I mean, Christ, Court, you were in the game for how many years and they still wouldn’t-”

“Hey,” he cuts off your panicked rambling with a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “You know there’s no contingency plan for people like us. You either kill the bad guys or you die trying, and that used to be good enough for me until…” He trails off, looking toward the door Claire is fast asleep behind.

“If anything, anything had happened to you two because of me-”

“I know,” he placates softly.

You lick your lips and open your mouth to speak before thinking better of repeating your confession from the morning out loud. Instead, you let Court guide your body down on top of his, snuggling against the warmth of his skin and allowing the steady rise and fall of his chest to lull you into a much needed rest. “In the morning, you’ll go to your debrief, and then we’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “And kid?” You stay quiet, trying to control your breathing despite the fact you’re sure he can feel your heart pounding through your chest in anticipation of what he’s about to say. “For the record, I feel the same damn way about you.”

[pluckyredhead]

Have you read WFA? Sometimes their Jason doesn’t hit right for me but when he does it’s magical

Oh anon, you have unleashed the KRAKEN. I fucking LOVE WFA, and I have a lot of feelings about it that you have given me an excuse to yell about. Please do not think I am yelling at you! I am just VERY EXCITED.

But yeah, I think WFA is a) the best comic DC is publishing right now (alongside The Flash, which is a goddamn miracle every month), and b) the smartest business decision they have made in the two decades I've been reading comics, maybe alongside the kids' and YA graphic novel lines they launched a few years ago. DC has spent so long catering to a dying audience and experiencing an ever-shrinking market share, and with WFA, they actually a) looked at what the largest growth audience was (young, mostly female readers), b) researched where that audience was reading comics (Webtoon and other online sources), and c) HIRED PEOPLE WHO KNEW HOW TO DELIVER COMICS THAT APPEALED TO THAT AUDIENCE. (Contrast with Marvel and DC's embarrassing early 2000s attempts at "manga," or the truly insulting Minx line.)

And the comic itself is so, so good? Not every episode is perfect - they really haven't mastered multi-chapter stories - but the comedic timing is IMPECCABLE, as is the ability to deliver truly an enormous amount of character beats (across a ton of characters!) in an incredibly short format. Every episode has so much episode in it? Incredible, showstopping etc.

I hear what you're saying on the characterization, and I agree with you that Jason doesn't always match up with main continuity Jason, but...he shouldn't. They're completely different genres. Main continuity Batbooks are...noir with strong fantasy and science fiction elements? I mean, they're their own genre, really, but they are dark and often tragic and full of characters who will never stop being their own worst enemies because then the comics would be over. (And then sometimes they're not! There are a lot of Batbooks, they cover a lot of ground tonally.)

But WFA is a comedy about family, and I think the creators have done a brilliant job of translating the canon characterizations to that genre. I'm sure there have been moments occasionally where I was like "Eh, I don't buy it," but by and large I think it's a great translation. (Bruce is the biggest stretch, I'd argue. But I love WFA Bruce, so I'll allow it. I wouldn't want to see him suddenly switch to this characterization in main continuity, but I love it in its place!)

AND THE ART. I love all of the character designs, but Jason and Dick in particular have become my ur-Jason and Dick. Like, all other drawings of those characters are just shadows in Plato's cave, that's what they look like in real life. (Dick's dimples! I die.)

I see a lot of people saying "Well, it's fanon, with fanon characterizations," and...yes, it is absolutely meeting fans where they are, but I have read a bafillion comics, and trust me, WFA is loaded with canon references and Easter eggs. I'm baffled by this immediate kneejerk reaction I see sometimes to dismiss it as being just for girls a certain type of fan? Yes, there's a target audience, but this incredibly talented team also knows their shit.

(I mean, yes, I read every single main continuity Tim Drake appearance last year, and out of 1480 comics - that is not an exaggeration - I can think of exactly one instance of him drinking coffee, and WFA called him a coffee addict in his first appearance. But that was fucking funny.)

Again, I hope you don't think I'm arguing with you - you just gave me an excuse to talk about some stuff I've been noodling over lately! But yeah, the key thing about WFA is that it is a comedy - a really really good one! - and I think that explains most of the discrepancies between it and main continuity more than anything else, certainly more than the cast being necessarily OOC.

But yeah also WFA Jason is really, really hot.

[bellabean24]

SMUT ASK 😈Can you do Dabi asking prompt 17 to a rlly shy fem reader?

Blushing Girl

The first one literally kicking my feet while thinking of this 🤭 warning this is my second time writing smut sorry if it is bad 🥲

A little OOC!Dabi x shy! femreader (she/her pronouns obviously) established relationship (Idk how to right a one night stand 👩🏽‍🦯) enjoy lovely’s

Prompt 17 “Are you blushing”

Summary: After a long day at work you just wanna go home, eat, and cuddle up with your bf but it seems like he has other plans.

Warnings:NSFW words used ‘babe, sweetheart, baby, darling, good girl, use of the word fuck’ praise kink(our reader needs to be praised), thigh riding, the ‘L’ word

5:00 on the dot you are starting to pack up your things to go home and finally relax after working a 9 to 5 shift at ‘Endeavor's Hero Agency’. ‘Should I pick up dinner for me and Dabi or cook’ you think as you pick up your phone to call him. After the second ring, he answers “Sup babe ya need something” you hear a deep raspy voice that belongs to no one other than your bf Dabi. God his voice alone made you flustered. “Ya still there, babe?” “Umm oh yea, I wanted to know if you want me to pick something up for dinner or you want me to cook.” You finally get out of your mouth after stumbling over a few words “why don't you bring home some pizza so you could relax once you get home. Uh, how does that sound?” as he finishes his sentence you could hear the smirk over the phone. “Yea that sounds fine to me I’ll be home soon. Love you.” “Love ya too darling”

After a long 30 minutes, you're finally home “I'm home” you call out waiting for your man to respond. “I'm in the living room baby.” You take off your shoes and hang up your keys on the rack. Walking into the living room with the box of pizza you see Dabi laid back on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. “How was work sweetheart,” he asks so innocently while grabbing the box and pressing a kiss on your cheek. Fighting back your blush you answer with ‘ok, nothing big happened today.’ You go up to your shared room to get out of your work clothes. Walking back to the living room in Dabi’s shirt, shorts and thigh highs. “Don’t ya look pretty in my shirt” Dabi just had to say when you walk into the living room, mumbling a thank you and sitting down next to him so you can finally eat.

Around 20 minutes later you find yourself leaning on Dabi’s chest watching God knows what cause you're too distracted by Dabi’s hand running up your thigh. ‘Calm down Y/n, he is your bf of 2 years you shouldn't be so flustered’ you keep repeating that sentence in your head blushing like a maniac. “Are you blushing” you hear Dabi’s teasing voice call out, looking up you come to face to face with him bright red cheeks across [your skin tone] “I- No I’m not?” you question then say rather in a panic. “You are. Don’t ‘cha look cute,” as Dabi is saying this he is sitting up and putting you on his lap. “Say why don’t he have some fun” he whispers into your ear with his low raspy voice that just makes you blush even more if that is even possible. Dabi starts to caress your thigh once more but stops when he reached for your shorts. “Why don't we take these off, huh” as he is pulling down your shorts you really wished you put on some panties blushing at the thought of being pantyless. “Oh, no panties I see. What a naughty girl, you planned this, didn't you?” he teases grabbing your hips to make you move back and forth on his thigh “I didn't plan it I promise I just...I.. I don't know” slapping your hands over your face to hide your face. “Aw, don't cover your face from me I wanna see that pretty face of yours when you finish on my thigh.”

Moving your hips back and forth Dabi feels your wetness drip through his pants. He starts to speed up your paste by gripping your hips. Dabi moves his hand to toy with your hardened clit, whimpering at his touch you cover your mouth to hide any noise from coming out. “Don't get shy on me now I wanna hear too” bring his hand up to your face to remove your hand. You let out a broken moan as you move a bit faster and harder. “G-god Dabi it f-f-feels so good,” you say dropping your head onto his shoulder. “You're doing so good for me darling,” rocking on his thigh you feel your high approaching. “O-oh god Dabi I'm gonna come.” moaning into his ears you bite down on his shoulder. “Come, sweetheart be a good girl, and come on my thigh.” Not long after Dabi's encouraging words you come undone on his thigh, shaking and whimpering at the sensitivity you lift your head to look Dabi in the eyes. “You did so well for me baby, I knew you could do it,” he says rubbing your sides. He leans in for a kiss grabbing your cheek to pull you in, the kiss was slow and passionate. Pulling back your eyes slowly open, your face quickly heating up, “oh are you still blushing” slamming your head into his chest groaning at his teasing. “Mmmm wanna return a favor baby”

©Bella2022

[factaerrata]

//Me, I want to open a blog for Ophelia (not Hamlet!Ophelia, she’s already on this blog), but hnnng...what are impulse control...