#so looking that up only brings up the baseball player!

[chloesimaginationthings]

The baseball reference on vanessas screen was genius because theres a baseball player named mike schmidt!

IM GLAD someone noticed this detail!!

[gurugirl]

Spiderman | fratboy!harry

Continuation of this one shot - but can be read as standalone.

Summary: You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight mask kink, this is mostly just gratuitous smut

Tonight was your excuse to dress up like the supervillain Poison Ivy. A short green dress with patches of fabric leaves all over and a crown of ivy on your head. Mostly it was just something cute to wear to draw a little attention. Plus Poison Ivy is bisexual so you were hoping at least someone picked up the hint. All were welcome, so to speak.

When you got to the frat house you noted all the sexy and fun Halloween costumes. Lots of tit-bearing cats, a few she-devils, some baseball players in well-fitted jerseys, a Lego. The house was packed. The music was loud. Too many of your fellow university schoolmates had begun drinking early. You arrived late on purpose. Drunk wasn’t a cute look. At least you didn’t think it was. Not on you anyway. And you kind of hoped to get hit on and maybe get lucky. Tipsy sex could be fun. Drunk sex wasn’t memorable enough to be worth it.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while.” You looked over at a tall someone dressed in a Spiderman costume. The hood was covering his face so his identity was a mystery, though you thought you recognized the voice as someone you’d had a fun hookup with once.

You leaned your hip into the counter just as you’d finished pouring yourself a drink, “Is that so? I guess I wouldn’t know if I’d seen you around or not since I can’t exactly be sure who you are.”

His laugh had you grinning suddenly as he mimicked your stance, leaning his own hip into the counter facing you, though you couldn’t see his eyes under the spandex material.

“So, you’re telling me you can’t recognize me by my body?” He leaned his head down as if looking over himself before bringing his face back upward, “This costume hardly hides anything.”

You cocked your head, sipping your drink as you allowed your eyes to travel over the red and blue spandex. It clung tightly to his chest and hips, thighs… You didn’t miss the bulge either as you brought your eyes back up to the spot where you figured his eyes were under the mask, “Nope. Sorry. Should I recognize you by your body alone?”

You could tell he was smiling under the spandex, “You should. As I recall, you know my body rather intimately.”

Now you were certain it was the fun hookup you had a while back. You didn’t know him well. But you did know him to be quite popular. And attractive. And the time he went back to your dorm with you and your friend was quite memorable. But you decided to play coy a little bit. Just to get him going.

“Really? Hmm…” You feigned confusion as you slowly ate up his frame, inch by inch with your gaze. His heavy-looking bulge was a nice reminder of how sizable he was. You wouldn’t forget it. “Still doesn’t ring a bell. I don’t see any outstanding features here.” You waved your hand up and down gesturing at his frame.

He nodded and remained quiet. You were sure he was feeling you out. Trying to see if you were fucking with him or not. You were.

When he inched in toward you and placed his gloved hand over your forearm he leaned in and spoke quietly into your ear, “I’ll give you a hint. Would you like a hint, Y/n?”

You nodded as you felt his warmth. He was so close to your body as he spoke, “Had you bouncing on my cock, made you come, all while your friend watched us fuck.”

You swallowed. Yes. You remembered very clearly that night. It was the only time you’d ever done anything like it before. And now, he was clearly trying to get you in bed again. At least… that was the vibe you were getting. You looked down and realized his bulge was, well it was bulging. Was he getting turned on just thinking about it? You needed to have him again. Wouldn’t mind feeling that thick cock inside of you once more.

You sighed and turned to face his mask, “Hmm… maybe. I’m not positive, though. Might need to check a few things out to verify–“

Harry’s grip on your forearm tightened, “Can be arranged. Wanna go find a room so you can verify?”

You laughed as you looked around. You’d never been talked into something like this so fast in your life. Then again, Harry, you knew it was him, was quite convincing and he was good in bed from what you remember. You couldn’t feel bad for giving in so quickly.

Harry took your hand and you followed him upstairs, leaving your unfinished drink in the kitchen and long forgotten.

The good thing about the frat house was that it was massive and there were enough bedrooms that you were able to find a free room almost right away.

Harry locked the door behind himself and then suddenly he was pushing you backward toward the bed where you fell to your bottom the moment the back of your thighs hit the edge. You giggled as he put his spandex-covered hands on your thighs. Propping yourself up by your elbows you watched him take in your bare legs and then one by one, lift each upward to remove your heels. He was between your thighs and the erection he was sporting indicated he wasn’t wearing underwear. Or if he was he’d fully pushed his way up and out of the top band.

“M’gonna give you a little reminder. Take you down memory lane and have you sit on my face. Is that all right?” He climbed over you on the bed, hovering over your body and looking down at you. You really wished you could see his pretty eyes.

“Okay. But how are you gonna do anything with this on?” You plucked at the fabric covering his face.

You heard a breathy, amused laugh fall from his chest as he pushed himself off of you and laid down on his back, “You’ll see. Climb up.”

You adjusted yourself, straddling his torso, and then lifted upward, gently placing yourself over his face, not yet sitting all the way. You were still wearing panties and you were hovered over his mask so you weren’t sure what his plan was exactly.

“Lean forward a bit.” He spoke from under you.

Leaning forward, you put your hands on the headboard and he adjusted something underneath you and that’s when you realized he was lifting his mask to uncover his mouth and part of his nose before pushing your panties aside and grasping your thighs, pulling you down on his mouth. You laughed when you settled and looked at the Spiderman mask between your thighs. You couldn’t see much of his nose and his mouth was covered by your pussy but the whole thing felt ridiculous to you.

Ridiculous until he began mouthing at your pussy slowly, using his tongue through your crease and his hands gripped your ass, pushing you into him further.

“Oh!” You tightly grabbed onto the headboard again in a gasp.

His warm tongue slid up and down and his moans made you hot. You hadn’t quite been ready but with his mouth on your clit, you were quickly aroused and slowly wetting his face.

Kissing and sucking sounds below drew your eyes down to him. You could see his dark curls sticking out from the edges of his mask where he’d pulled it up, his pink lips were also memorable. How had you not reached out to him after that first night? He was good. And he was so fucking hot. But he was also really nice to you and to your friend.

You tilted your pelvis down and dragged your clit over his nose and moaned softly as he pushed his tongue into your entrance. The slow lathering of his tongue up and down your crease and his puckering lips felt just as good as you remembered.

He pushed at you and inhaled a sharp breath, “Starting to remember me now?” His shiny berry lips quirked up in a cocky smile as you panted and shook your head, “Nuh-uh. I’ve sat on lots of faces. Gonna have to give me something more if you really want me to remember you.”

His raspy laugh had his nostrils flaring and he pushed at you, causing you to move off his face, “Fine,” he breathed as he sat up, “Lie down. Looks like you need something a little extra.”

Your back hit the mattress as he sat back on his haunches and pulled at your panties, tearing them down your legs and pushing your dress up your thighs, exposing your cunt to him as he lowered his face over you, his shoulders bumping into the back of your thighs to hold you down.

“Y/n, you taste just like you did before. So soft and sweet,” he ran his spandex-covered finger through your crease and you gasped at the odd feeling of it. He laughed at your reaction, “You’re wet enough that this should still feel really good. Tell me if it’s irritating to your skin,” his mouth and nose, and ends of his hair were still exposed as he circled two fingers over your clit and had his face tilted toward you.

When he opened his mouth wide and lowered it over your clit you grasped onto his hood and sighed. It was so good. Just like before. His tongue and lips and the way he gently sucked you in made you quiver.

But it was the odd sensation of his fabric-covered fingers slipping through your wetness that kept you very much in the moment. You kept imagining that the shiny spandex would soon collect all your wetness and you’d be left dry and it would start to hurt but it was the opposite.

The smooth material became coated and the extra friction from the fabric felt yummy.

He slurped your clit and took a good long lick upward from your entrance to your clit and then held up two of his fingers so you could see, “Look. Just want you to see this before I start fucking you with them. Nice and slippery,” he scissored his fingers apart and you saw the strings of arousal stick together,” But tell me if you don’t like it.”

“Oh my god…” you moaned as you craned your neck up to watch him as he slowly plunged them inside of you.

You tightened your thighs, but Harry used his free hand to hold you apart and the grin on his face as he watched his gloved fingers slide in and out of you was lewd, “Hear that?” He increased the speed at which he was fingering you, your wetness being pushed in and out with his fingers was definitely audible, “Bet that feels so good, doesn’t it, Y/n?”

You nodded and moaned again, still trying to keep your neck tilted so you could watch.

When he wrapped his mouth around your clit once again, though, you cried out and your head fell back onto the mattress in surrender.

His fingers, his tongue, and his lips had you writhing and moaning pathetically, “Oh fuck…” you cried as he curled his fingers just right, and flattened his tongue over your clit, his face aimed toward you as if he were watching your reaction.

He continued fingering you as he lifted his face and planted a sweet kiss to your clit, “How’s it feel? Do you want to come, Y/n?”

You moaned and gasped as you nodded, “Yes, Harry…” and the moment you said his name you knew you were busted. Your eyes widened and Harry’s grin took over his face, you could see the beginnings of his dimples.

“Figured you’d remember me,” he kissed your clit again and spoke against your pussy, “Hang on, sweet girl. Gonna finish you off properly.”

And finish you off he did. Properly at that. He held you down with one shoulder and one hand as he fingered you with his other and sucked and dug into your clit. The noises were obscene. From the wetness you’d created, to the fast pace of his fingers pushing and curling into you, to his slurping and moaning…

“Come on baby,” he coaxed when he felt your thighs shaking and your moans turned into whimpers and cries.

His tongue flicked side to side quickly and then he dug in as if he was sucking the last bits of juice off a mango and the vibrations from his moans had you seeing stars. You gripped his head and shouted his name as you came in his mouth. You thought you heard a laugh come from him but you were so far gone in ecstasy that you couldn’t care. You knew you were being loud but it wasn’t every day that a man came around to give you head the way Harry was.

When you’d opened your eyes you noticed you pushed his mask up further with how you’d been hanging on, nearly his whole nose was exposed as he softly licked upward from your entrance to your clit. He removed his fingers and was cradling the underside of your thighs with both hands. Like a loving little gesture to help you come down.

Suddenly he was hovering over you and had his lips pressed to yours. Your first kiss of the night and it tasted like your pussy. But you liked the taste of pussy so it didn’t bother you.

You could feel Harry’s hard erection on your thigh as he licked into your mouth and cupped your face.

It felt so sweet and so desperate at the same time. You knew he needed to be taken care of too. He deserved to have the favor returned after the way he’d just handled you with such precision.

Pushing at his shoulders he gasped as he parted from your lips, “What do you need, Harry?” You asked him.

He moaned and rolled his hips down so you could really feel him, “You. Just you. Whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grinned and wrapped your finger around a chunk of his hair, “But what do you want? Want a blow job? Want to fuck me? Want my hands?”

Harry exhaled heavily and dropped his mouth open, “Can’t stop thinking about how good you felt on my cock. The way we fit together.”

You bucked your hips up and nodded, “I can’t stop thinking about it either. You felt so good. Stretched me out so nice.”

“Fuck.” Harry quickly moved off of you and stood at the edge of the bed before opening up the side drawer, “Need a condom.”

You rolled over and opened up the other side table drawer to rummage through it. Not finding anything other than pens and loose charger cables. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad about rummaging through a stranger’s things when you had Harry Styles about to fuck you.

Harry adjusted his cock as he quickly walked to the dresser on the other side of the room and looked through the top drawer and let out a groan of relief, “Fuck yes.”

Holding up the condom he placed it on the dresser and untied the top of his spandex suit. He was still wearing the mask, though it had been pushed upward and his hair was exposed at the ends, slightly more grown out than the last time you saw him, but he was too focused on his task to worry about how funny he looked with his mask half covering his face. The moment he untied the top he began to pull at the suit and peel it down his toned and tattooed torso. You sat up and watched him undress. He had no underwear on just as you suspected.

You had to laugh at the spectacle. Just like a woman wearing a cute tight body suit, men had the same issue with needing to remove the entire thing in order to use the bathroom, or in your case, fuck.

“Heey, don’t laugh. Beauty comes with a price.” He grinned as he kicked the body suit away and opened up the condom, slowly putting it over himself. He looked over at you and tilted his chin upward, “Get your dress off. Wanna see those pretty tits.”

You giggled and pulled at your stretchy dress, easily removing it by the time he made his way back to the bed. He climbed over you, his mask still covering his eyes as he leaned down to kiss you.

The way his mouth moved against yours and his hands found your breasts and your ribs and your tummy as he moaned and licked at your tongue gave you a surge of need. You lifted your hips toward his and slid your hands down his torso to grab his cock.

He pushed himself down into your hand and then reared back gently to slip his shaft through your labia, wetting the condom, “This is gonna be better than the first time. No performance anxiety with a third watching.” He grinned down at you as he moved back to take you in below him.

You laughed as he pulled at your thighs and lifted your legs over his, angling your hips upward so your bottom was positioned on the tops of his thighs, “Were you nervous last time with Heidi? It was your idea? And… can we take this off?” You gestured to his mask.

“Heidi? That was her name?” He responded as he pulled the mask off from over his eyes and tossed it behind himself. “Sorry, I barely remember. But… I wanted you to think I was cool. Plus she was kinda cute. But it was really all about you.”

You pushed yourself up to your elbows at this revelation, “Wait. You only invited her because you wanted me to think you were cool?”

He shrugged and smiled shyly, “Yeah. Knew you liked girls too. Figured it might make you like me if I was cool with that.”

You shook your head, “And then you just never reached out to me again after?”

He puffed out a soft laugh, “I don’t know. Felt like maybe you weren’t as into me. Didn’t want to embarrass myself.”

You took his hand and pushed your fingers between his, “Well, after this it looks like we’ve got some talking to do. I kinda thought you were too cool for me so that’s why you never bothered.”

The look on his face was surprised, “Me? Too cool? That’s not… no way. If anyone is too cool it’s you, Y/n.”

You laughed and tugged at his hand, “Please, Harry. Just fuck me.” You were relieved to see his eyes and the top of his head finally. Just as handsome as before, hair slightly more undone from the hood he had over his head, but it was perfect for what you two were about to do.

Harry let out a shaky breath and looked down to where your entrance was wet and softly clenching for him already. His lips dropped open as he leaned forward, your hand still in his, pressing it down to the mattress next to your head as he pushed his tip in.

“Ohh…” you breathed out and watched his face scrunch up as he plunged in slowly.

“Feel that? This the reminder you needed?” He whispered lowly as he inched in.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you watched each other and he began to move in and out, deeper on each thrust. Heavy breaths and soft moans until he’d reached into you as far as humanly possible, hips rocking into you and fingers tightly squeezing around yours.

“Fuck me… Fucking condom sucks but you… holy shit…” Harry moaned and began to roll into you faster.

You reached your free hand up to move his hair from his face, “Harry… you feel so good inside of me. Oh, my god…” The snap of his hips wetly collided with you as the small bed creaked gently.

Harry held himself up with one hand, palm flat on the mattress as pushed into you, his muscles tensing and flexing above you, “Yeah? Feels good just like you remember? You’re so wet for me, Y/n. Didn’t know you needed me so bad,” he panted his words.

You were wet for him. So wet it was almost embarrassing, but you were glad in a way because he was quite sizable, and if you’d been any less wet it might have hurt. But as it was, the slip and the stretch and the way he could drag himself in and out was delicious.

You cupped his face and moaned loudly as he pounded into you harder. You could feel your tits wobbling and the bed dancing under your back. Harry was groaning and his eyes grew dark fast. Every time he bottomed out he ground himself into you deeply and you gasped at the ache, “Careful! You’re almost too deep!” You breathed out your words in a rush.

His cocky smirk meant that he took that as a compliment, so he did it once more, his eyes pinned to yours as he slowly stuffed himself into your cervix, “Ahh! Harry…” You widened your eyes and then he pushed himself back to his haunches.

“Sorry. Can’t help it,” he spoke, still grinning at you as he smoothed his fingers over your clit and worked his cock in from the new angle.

You knew he was long and that he’d reach deep, but that kind of deepness usually wasn’t achieved without you being on top. Even average-length guys felt deeper when you were on top. But Harry, of course, wasn’t average-sized. And you could tell he was very aware of that fact. Proud of it even.

With his fingers on your clit and the new angle his cock was nudging into your little sparkly, yummy soft spot inside over and over again. You moaned his name and he let go of your hand to fondle your tits. He continued a nice pace, slipping back and pushing in, long, exquisite strokes that filled you and stretched your insides apart. You could only imagine how he’d feel without the condom inhibiting the texture of his skin pressed into your skin. The friction, the way his foreskin would move inside of you, and his swollen tip uninhibited by smooth latex would really make the drag something.

“Yesss!” You moaned as he hit your spot perfectly, the repeated glide of his thick crown into your g-spot, had you trembling.

Harry breathed hard through his nose as he looked down to where he was fucking into you and back to your eyes, “Gonna come already, Y/n? Tell me how good it is.”    

“Fuck, Harry… You’re so big and you're pressing into something inside of me that I can’t… I’m gonna… it’s so good… so full… oh fuck! Gonna come…” you babbled and moaned as the bed squeaked and the headboard softly tapped the wall in time with Harry’s thrusts.

“Shit. Was gonna fuck you doggy but if you come I’m gonna come, baby. I can’t help it. Your wet pussy is just sucking me in,” he pressed down over your clit and hastened his fingers and you could feel him shaking.

You tensed your thighs and cried out just as a knock came to the door. Someone was saying something but you were gone. Your ears were ringing and your loud cries and buttery, mouthwatering orgasm were all you could focus on.

Harry groaned and pushed into you a few more times, before he couldn’t hold back, dumping his come into the condom with a choked moan.

He could hear someone threatening to unlock the door but Harry was in bliss. There was no way he could stop his cock from twitching and coming and you were so sweet and pretty below him with your face scrunched and your cries of nonsense.

The cliché of time standing still had been true in that moment. You couldn’t stop trembling and clenching over him as you felt his cock throbbing inside of you. Harry’s own orgasm just prolonged yours. He had leaned over you, his fingers in your hair as he pushed into you with gasps and soft whimpers.

When you finally opened your eyes and Harry had caught his breath the door was opened and Harry turned back quickly, covering your frame with his broad chest, “Sorry! We’ll get out. Just… let us get dressed,” Harry’s words came out breathy and stuttered as he was still breathing heavily.

“Harry? God damnit! Just… Fine. You owe me, man.” The guy who was speaking closed the door. You never saw his face because Harry had covered you and when he sat back he smiled softly at you.

“Want to go back to mine? Stay with me tonight? We can talk a little.”

You grinned and sighed with a nod, “Of course. And then maybe if you’re up for it, you can fuck me doggy like you wanted.”

Harry breathed out a laugh from his nose, “Oh I’ll be up for it.”

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[liyawritesss]

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴋᴇɴᴊɪ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

-> synopsis: what would life be like to love the worlds baseball darling and secret superhero Ultraman, Kenji Sato?

-> pairing: kenji sato + black!gn!reader

-> from: ultraman: rising

-> contains: pure fluff, gender neutral, mentions of emiko and emi, 2nd person ('you', 'your', 'yours')

-> a/n: these animators need to stop making these kid movies with fine ass main characters bc whyyyyyyy is he so cute??? why do i wanna baby him in my arms and tell him everything will be okay? LET THIS MAN KNOW PEACE PLEASE!!!

-> join my taglist!

-> tags: @badass-dora-milaje @uranometrias @lees-chaotic-brain @jacuzziwaters

Kenji Sato who loves loves loooooovveeesss those subliminal couples pictures. The ‘private but not secret’ ones. They’re so aesthetically pleasing to him and they allow him to show you off to the world while still maintaining an air of privacy that he cherishes deeply from the media. Kenji is proud to call you his, and wants to show that in all ways possible.

Kenji Sato who is heavy on the couples jewelry. He’s already got a couple of notable pieces in his collection beforehand, and they only expand when you come into his life. In fact, the speculations of his love life come from the fact that people were noticing that he was wearing pieces from brands that were specifically designed for couples. Of course, when asked about it, he never goes into depth about it, and just recites how he thinks they look nice on him…and on someone else.

Kenji Sato who introduces you to his mom only after he’s sure that he wants to be serious with you. I have a feeling Emiko is the type of mom to get attached to their child’s partner in the sense of already viewing them as part of the family very early on, and Kenji wouldn’t want to get her hopes up if something were to happen - he can’t stand to see his mom upset. But when he does introduce you to his mom, you two become the best of friends! So definitely expect to be sent on girls day adventures by Kenji, cuz he’ll definitely be treating the two most important women in his life like royalty.

Kenji Sato who requires a lot of patience to deal - I mean, the man has a lot going on. Being the number one baseball player in the world, saving Japan from threats as Ultraman, and caring for the large kaiju baby Emi is more than a lot on anyone's plate. Kenji’s gonna need someone to understand that his schedule is never solid, and plans may fall through from time to time, and thats not because he’s not trying, but it’s because spontaneity runs his life and things can change at the drop of a hat, out of his control. It’s not the life he asked for, but it’s one he must take on.

Kenji Sato who doesn't exactly know how to bring up the topic of him being Ultraman, much less about Emi, early on in the relationship. I mean, how often do you tell someone that you're Japan's legendary hundred-foot tall superhero or that you're the surrogate parent to a twenty foot tall baby dragon kaiju? As much planning that he does on telling you, it ultimately happens in the worse way possible - you end up finding him mid-transition with Emi in tow...now that's gonna be an interesting story to tell. Spoiler: you stay with him, but now he's subjected to jokes about how is ego isn't the only thing that blows up to an enormous degree.

Kenji Sato who appreciates a partner that can not only deal with spontaneity, but is also rather spontaneous themselves. Surprise dates, random gifts, adventurous propositions out of the blue, I think those kind of things are right up his alley. He’s learned to live life in the moment and to the fullest, because it can be taken from you within an instant, and he wants to cherish every moment he has with you.

Kenji Sato who would spend his money on you religiously. He’ll sit in the dressing room with you as you try on armfuls of clothes, only to hand you his credit card at the end of the haul with a kiss to your temple, encouraging you to buy it all if you desire. And don't let you look at something too long in a display window, because he will have it shipped to your address in two business days. Endless trips post-baseball season in secluded locations so that the two of you can optimize the privacy you desperately crave.

Kenji Sato who’s a little bashful and nervous in the beginning, but eases into the relationship as time goes on. He doesn’t wanna mess up something so good that he has going on. Opening up takes some time, as he’s got some high walls that are hard to climb, but once you do get him to open up and bare his heart to you, don’t take it for granted. He doesn't do this to everyone, only the people he feels will truly return the care and compassion he has - so don’t prove him wrong.

Kenji Sato who seeks your comfort in the middle of the night when sleep evades him, leaving him restless and anxious. Most times, its about his mom and her disappearance, a mystery that's never left his mind. If you don't wake up to find him sitting up in bed deep in thought, or trying to tire himself out in a simulation, he finds comfort in just cuddling you, admiring your sleeping form, and talks about the most random things until the sun begins to peak over the horizon.

Kenji Sato who’s sort of in between the serious lover and the playful lover - he’s maturing in his emotions and how to deal with his past, learning how to communicate better and express himself healthily. Simultaneously, he’s a goofball and a jokester reliving a bit of his childhood in his love with you. Playful banter, jokes and teasing are equally as present as the late night talks and the deep conversations the two of you share.

Kenji Sato who tucks the chain that has his promise ring on it close to his chest, and on game days, rubs his thumb over the gold band for comfort and assurance before he heads up to bat. During championships, he'll ask you to kiss it for good luck, and when he wins, he of course accredits it to you being his 'good luck charm'.

Kenji Sato who loves deeply and fervently, with compassion and the entirety of his heart, who will do his duty and love you unconditionally an proudly while shielding you from the cruel and prying eyes of the public, letting you know time and time again that it will always be you he chooses, no matter what.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[femd-archive]

hiiii!! omg i love ur work sm it just scratches an itch i’ve had forever, i’ve always loved the dom reader + sub male character relationship and ur work is perfect! if it’s okay could i be 🌺 anon if you use the emoji system for that?

i have a request if ur taking them atm, i saw ur sub kenji oneshots and i was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a subby kenji x reader w a lot of miscommunication or general angst bc that’s my absolute fave!! w all the smut you want ofc!

and if you don’t want to take the request that’s totally cool! i really just wanted to tell you ur writing is amazing and ily!

— 🌺

hello! thanks for ur request :] and of course u can be 🌺 anon! i also love angst, more so the hurt/comfort trope, but i'm really bad at writting it (╥‸╥) so this was my attempt to write a hurt/comfort fic for the first time. hope u like it! i'll practice to make it better next time (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

p.s.: i didn't add much smut, mostly because my brain is fried :p

NOT ALONE

pairing: ultraman: rising — ken sato x fem!reader

word counting: 2.7k

content warning: arguing | kenji is so stressed :( | riding | unprotected sex | masturbation (female)

side note: english is not my first lenguage, so i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes

You notice, of course you notice.

You love and care for Kenji too much to not notice the dark circles under his eyes because of the lack of sleep; the way he's been more sensitive, even over the most little things; how he overworks himself in his baseball practices and won't stop unless Mina turns the stadium hologram off.

You knew how his relationship with his father was, but you have seen the way he declines his calls without a second thought now, knowing the guilt trip he had to overcome before he even hit the decline button on his watch before.

You notice, and of course you're worried about it. You didn't have to be his girlfriend to be worried. Hell, you would even be worried by just seeing him walk like a zombie in the streets as a stranger! And all that worry is what brings you in front of his mansion door at midnight.

He hasn't been answering your messages nor calls. You get it, he's a busy baseball player, but he always made at least a few minutes to reply to your messages, mostly saying sorry for not picking up your calls and that he'll call you back after he's done with an interview, telling you that he loves you.

After ringing his doorbell, you only had to wait for a few minutes before you could hear the hurried footsteps coming to the door. Opening it, there he was. With his adorable bed head, he looked up at you, tired eyes wide with surprise.

"Baby" his voice cracked, making him clear his throat before he talks again. "Hey baby, uhm...I didn't know that you were coming!" he laughs nervously.

"Well...I did text you" you shake your phone, and Kenji gulps.

"I..." he sighs, "I'm sorry baby. I just been...so busy later" he groans, rubbing a hand over his face with fatigue.

"I understand, Kenji. May I come in? I just wanna talk with you. It's been a while"

Kenji looks at you through his sleepy eyes, and even in that state, you were able to see the way his eyes softened at the sight of you. It really has been a while. He reaches a hand to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"Of course" he mumbles, low but loud enough for you to hear him. He moves his hand from your face to your hand, taking it and pulling you softly inside, closing the door behind him.

You guys walk over the kitchen. Kenji lets go of your hand to walk over the fridge. "Do you want anything?" he asks, referring to the fridge's content.

[Name] sucks in a breath, gathering courage to speak. "Yeah, I'd like for us to talk" she finally said, noticing how Kenji's shoulder tense as he close the door's fridge, staying there with a can of soda in his head, not facing her. "For you to talk to me, Kenji. I believe you when you say you're busy with baseball, I really do! But I thrust my gut to know that there's something else going on"

She walks closer to him, staring at his broad back. How she wishes she could just hug him from behind and erase all his problems. But the world is more complicated than that, and she knows it.

"You can't always rely on your gut to make conclusions" opening the can soda, Kenji spit those words with a gruff tone, making [Name] surprised over his mood change.

Of course she wasn't off limits of seeing him mad only because she was his girlfriend, but she didn't expect for him to talk to her like that over a simple request.

"Then talk to me, Kenji. I don't wanna be like this either" she starts talking, following Kenji as he walks away while drinking from the can. "You don't have to tell me everything, but at least admit that you're having a hard time so I can at least hold you"

Kenji lets out a chuckle, incredulous. "Hard time? Baby, I'm Ken Sato! I don't have hard times, I only have good times" he spread his arms beside him, trying to appear as flawless as ever, obtaining a deadpan face from you.

"Kenji, you look like shit" you simply say. "You can barely walk with your eyes open. I don't know about anyone else, but I can see the lack of sleep in your eyes, I can see how your shoulder has been bothering you more each day that passes. I know that you always work hard to be on a good shape for the games, but you go to an extent that is not healthy"

"What? Did you became a physician now?" he asks after finishing rubbing his eyes, a mocking tone on his words.

"What? No" you needed to take a breath to not break. "I'm just concerned about your well being"

"I am okay" he affirms, eyebrows furrowed. "You're the that's being like 'Ohh Kenji ~ you're so tired. You should rest up'" with a high pitched tone, he mimicks you in a mocking way while pouting exaggeratedly.

You feel your heart beating fast on your chest, your cheeks hot with embarrassement. Why was he behaving like that? You just want to help. Were you being too overboard? You give him his space, you have gave it to him for weeks. And that you finally thought it was a good time to adress his lack of selfcare and how sad he looks, he talks to you like this...

"I know that you're having a hard time, Kenji. Everyone that cares about you can notice that. I just...I just want to help in what I can" you say with a weak tone now. You had shrunk in your spot, suddenly feeling sorry for even going to his house in the first place.

"Well guess what? You can't help me"

In a desperate attempt to push you away —because if you kept looking at him with those pretty eyes, he'll spill everything— he's mean to you. Not the smartest choice to treat your lover, but that's the only response that he could muster at the moment.

He was flustered at the confrontation. Of course you will notice about his poor state. You love him and care too much for him to not notice that he's going insane little by little, but he doesn't want to share that burden with you. In his mind, he just can't.

You look up at him, big sad eyes that just make him want to hug you until you both forget this stupid moment.

Holding back your tears, the only thing you could do was sigh. Your heart feels heavy on your chest, wunded by his words and harsh tone. You're not the savior of the word, you're not Ultraman either, you just wanted to help your boyfriend...

"Yeah, I already knew that" you mumble. Taking a deep breath, you look up at him with a weak smile. "Alright, you might not want to talk right now, but if you need anything...I'm always gonna be there" you remind him, giving him one last look before starting to walk off to the front door.

Kenji looks at you go. You seemed little with the way your shoulders shrunk and you walked slowly, like an injured animal. His heart also feels heavy on his chest, a pang of guilt striking over all his body as his eyes are already watering with tears.

He hated that his stupid pride wouldn't let him as for help, for it to hurt you when the only thing you wanted to do was help him in whatever way you could.

He knew you weren't weak, he knew that you could be able to handle all the secrets that he's harboring on his chest, but he doesn't want to share the burden, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you only because you know he's Ultraman.

What would he do if he lost you? He's sure that he was gonna lose his mind. Just the same way he'll lose his mind if he let you walk away through that door.

"Mina, lock the door" he commanded, and in a split of a second, the computer did so.

You didn't even try to open it after you've heard his command. Confused, you look back at Kenji, who's already walking towards you like a kicked puppy.

"Forgot to say something?" you ask, bitterness on your tone that made Kenji cringe.

He sighs, a guilty expression on his face. "Yes...I'm sorry baby" he begins. "I...I promise that I want to tell you, I want to tell you everything! But— it's...it's too dangerous"

And finally, after months of bottling all this emotions, Kenji finally breaks into loud sobs, fat tears running down his cheeks. Startled, [Name] didn't have any other reflections than hug him, even though she was still mad at his earlier attitude.

"Hey, hey" she whispered, running a hand up and down his back. "It's okay, it's okay"

Kenji wraps his arms around her shoulders, hiding his face on her neck. "I don't—" he chokes, "I don't want anything to happen to you" he cries, almost incomprehensible.

"Nothing is gonna happen to me, baby" she reassures, feeling his tears run down her neck and wetting her shirt, but she doesn't care about it. Kenji finally is being open with her, and that's all that matter.

Kenji sniffs a few times before talking with a weak voice. "Promise?" he asks.

She squeezes him a little bit more in her arms. "I promise"

Still sniffing, Kenji slowly pulls away from the hug, looking at his girlfriend with his big eyes full of tears, a cute pout in his lips. [Name] reaches her hands to run her thumbs under his eyes, drying his tears away. He nuzzles into her, a shaky breath exhaling out of him as he calms down.

"There you go" she whispers softly, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs now. "Come on, let's sit on the couch. I'll get you some water"

After a lot of reassurance that nothing was gonna happen and lots of cuddles, Kenji had finally told her everything. That his dad was Ultraman; that he took his legacy and he now serves as the new Ultraman to the city of Tokyo, and how he knows he's not doing a good job; that he has a 6 feet tall baby Kaiju that think he's her mother trapped in a container, and he clearly don't know how to take care of her; how much he misses his mother everyday...

[Name] listened to him attentively, her heart swelling at how much pain Kenji had to endure on his own and feeling guilty about not noticing sooner. Why she couldn't have been there for him? Right now, everything seemed so obvious, all of it happen in front of her, and she couldn't do nothing.

Her caresses on the back of his hand never stopped for even one second, even caressing his back when he needed to make a pause to cry.

Now they were cuddled up in the couch under a blanket. After spilling everthing out, Kenji just let himself fall into her arms and bask into her warmth.

"Thank you for telling me, Kenji. I really didn't wanna pressure you into talking, but you looked so sick...I was just so worried" she blinked back the tears, she needed to be strong for him now. "And yeah, it's a lot to take in. Like damn...I'm dating Ultraman" her comment makes Kenji giggle, his body trembling with laughter in her arms, "but it's nothing that we can't overcome, together" she remarks the last word. "And it's not something that it's gonna make me love you any less"

Kenji pulls away from her arms to make eye contact, his puffy eyes still able to show how soft they become when he looks at her. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out for you to talk. I just— I don't know how to ask for help" he admits, feeling a weight that he didn't know he had on his chest being gone.

"Well, admiting that is a big first step, so I'm really proud of you for that" she kisses his forehead, making him smile. "And we can work on that. We can search for professional service, that wpuld help out a lot. And, I'm always gonna be there for you" she reminds him, running her fingers through his hair.

She cups his cheeks, making him look at her in the eyes. "You're not a burden, Kenji. Your problems are valid and I'm always gonna be up to hearing them and help you in what I can and I can't do. We're in this together, alright? You're not alone anymore"

[Name] saw the way that Kenji's eyes swell with this again, a small pout on his lips as he gulps softly. He nods, slowly, letting her words sink in. He was not alone...he had her. It was not something that it would easily stick in his mind, but he'll try to remind himelf everyday. He was not alone anymore.

She leaned in, going for a kiss, and Kanji meet her midway, kissing her with yearn after all those weeks that they couldn't be together, that they couldn't touch each other. He could've barely see her with his busy schedule, and that also added to all his stress, all this mess. All he needed was to be in her arms.

Kenji takes one of [Name]'s hands that cupped his cheek and slide it down his shirt at the same time he traced her bottom lip with his tongue.

[Name] pulls away from the kiss, almost smiling when she hears Kenji whine and chase after her lips, desperate. "Hey, you really wanna do this? You're still tired, Kenji" she reproached.

"Please baby" he whines, looking at her eyes and then her lips, intensely. "I need you"

Kenji straddles his girlfriend's lap completely, letting her feel his hard cock against her stomach. [Name] gasps softly, looking up at Kenji's cute needy face as he starts rocking his hips softly.

She bits down her bottom lip before pulling him into another kiss where he moans.

They didn't even realize when did Mina lowered the lights. How could they? When they were so engrossed in each other's touch. The room was filled with the couple's moans and their skin hitting against each other.

Kenji was laying down on the couch, [Name] on top of him, as they hugged each other thightly while she moved her hips up and down, Kenji's dick hitting the right spot with every thrust.

Kenji's grip on [Name]'s waist just get tighter as he hide his moans in her neck. "Baby...baby" he calls for her, feeling his orgasm coming.

"I know baby, I know" she kisses his shoulder. "Go ahead, you can cum" she reassures, speeding the pace of her thrusts.

Kenji meets his girlfriend's hips midway, bucking his own as he hits the last thrusts before sliding out of her, ropes of cum shooting out of his tip, dirtying [Name]'s back, his thighs and the expensive couch under them. But who cared? He could buy another one.

[Name] brings her hand to her clit, making circle motions on it with her fingers as she grins on Kenji's abs. He manages to look up at her with cloudy eyes, brain still fuzzy with the euphoria of his recent climax. Still, his hands come up to caress her thighs, encouraging her to keep using him to get off.

"S' pretty" he slurs, running his thumbs on her skin.

"Fuck...Kenji" with his name on her lips, she ends up cumming with a few more motions of her fingers before collapsing on top of her boyfriend's chest.

They stayed there, in each other's embrace as they calmed down. Kenji's finger run softly down [Name]'s arm, his free arm wrapped around her waist.

"I'm sorry I didn't help you get off" he whispers suddenly, making [Name] chuckle.

"It's okay. To be fair, you're about to pass out now" she props her chin on his chest, looking at him with dreamy eyes. Kenji chuckles as well, not denying it. "Come on, let's take a bath and then you can finally have some good night sleep" patting his chest softly, she starts getting up and helps him as well.

"Are you gonna introduce me to the baby Kaiju tomorrow?" she asks as they walk together to the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, and she's gonna love ~ you. Just like I do ~" he litters her cheek with kisses, making her giggle.

"Come on, Romeo. Let's take a bath"

[taglist] @vinegarjello

[xoamiiren]

BATTER UP, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 home run, baby

𖥔 PRECIS. a series of headcanons for my university star athletes au PAIRING. star baseball player!jake x supportive gf!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, kissing, petnames

authors note ୨୧ this is pt. 1/4 of this hyung line star athlete au I’ve conjured up in my head. yuh.

─────────

Star baseball player Jake, who always spots you in the stands, gives you a little wink before stepping up to the plate, making your heart race as if he knows exactly how to fluster you.

Star baseball player Jake, who teases you about how obsessed you are with watching him play, but secretly waits for your cheers the most, knowing it gives him the confidence to perform even better.

Star baseball player Jake, who surprises you after every game with a playful hug from behind, his face buried in your neck as he asks, “Did I impress you today?”

Star baseball player Jake, who casually slips his baseball cap onto your head during games, flashing that easygoing grin as he says, “Looks better on you.”

Star baseball player Jake, who shamelessly pulls you in close for a messy, rough kiss after a tough game, the sweat dripping down his face, his breathing heavy, as he mutters, “…This was all I needed…”

Star baseball player Jake, who throws mock glares at his teammates during team events when they try to flirt with you, not-so-subtly marking his territory by draping an arm around your shoulder.

Star baseball player Jake, who stays up late to help you study, even when he has early morning practice, insisting that “my grades are good enough—I’m more worried about you.”

Star baseball player Jake, who gets caught staring at you instead of focusing during practice, only for his coach to yell out, “Jake! Eyes on the game, not your girl!”

Star baseball player Jake, who gives you his jersey after a big win, knowing you love how it smells like him, and later sends a cheeky text, “Better not let anyone else see you in it.”

Star baseball player Jake, who can’t wait to get you alone in his dorm after an especially good practice or game, letting you pull his jersey over his mess of hair as he peppers your body in warm, rushed kisses.. “Is this my reward?”

Star baseball player Jake, who sulks after losing a really intense game and refuses to talk to anyone but you, only to break down when he’s alone with you, admitting, “I just hate letting everyone down, especially you...”

Star baseball player Jake, who sneaks you into the locker room after hours, sitting on the bench beside you with a mischievous grin as he says, before capturing your lips in a warm, sensual kiss. “We’re not supposed to be here, but I couldn’t wait to see you.”

Star baseball player Jake, who makes sure you’re wearing his team’s colors at every game, calling you his “lucky charm,” and firmly believing that you bring him good luck. He especially likes when you write his jersey number on your cheek!

Star baseball player Jake, who challenges you to a playful game of catch after practice, laughing at how uncoordinated you are but always rushing over to help you fix your stance, his hands lingering a little too long on your waist. “What…? It’s your form that’s all weird..”

Star baseball player Jake, who secretly loves when you call him out for spending too much time at practice, just so he can dramatically pout and whine, “But I’m doing it all for you!”

Star baseball player Jake, who posts cute pictures of the two of you on his social media after a game, with captions like, “My #1 fan ❤️” or “Couldn’t do it without her support 😘.”

Star baseball player Jake, who runs his fingers through his hair and sighs dramatically every time you mention one of his teammates, playfully asking, “You like them more than me now, huh?”

Star baseball player Jake, who puts his cap on backwards and shoots you a playful smirk, jaw flexing as he chews his usual bubble gum, every time you try to focus on your work, just because he knows how much you’re into that look.

Star baseball player Jake, who gets flustered when you wear his oversized varsity jacket, trying to play it cool but eventually blurting out, “You’re gonna make me lose my focus if you keep looking that good in my clothes.”

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 1.2k | tags: first date, first kiss, very slight angst | written for the stwg daily prompt kiss in the rain)

Today has to be perfect, Eddie vows as he parks his van in the Harrington's driveway.

Because today Eddie is taking Steve out on their first date.

Frankly, he has no idea how he managed to get a date with the Steve Harrington. Even more, he has no idea how someone as beautiful and kind and sweet and funny as Steve would want to go out with someone like him.

It certainly helps that they saved the world together and share many, many traumas, as well as some horrible scars that tell the story of everything they've been through.

Eddie wants to believe that's not all that binds them, that the months they've spent growing closer over shared custody of Steve's six nuggets, movie nights, and long hours spent smoking and talking on top of the Munsons' new trailer have a lot to do with it, too.

But Eddie also knows that the Eddie of a year ago would have scoffed at the idea of going out with King Steve. Just like that Steve wouldn't have gone out with the town freak.

Which is why Eddie needs today to be a success.

Today has to be perfect.

As he rings the bell, his heart beats wildly in his chest and sweat forms on his palms.

Steve answers the door with a smile that makes Eddie's knees weak. "Hey," he says, and Eddie's mind blanks for a moment. Steve's wearing those jeans, the ones that look like they're painted on, showing off his legs and...other parts. And he has them paired with a striped polo shirt that is not supposed to look as good as it does.

"Hey," Eddie replies, finally finding his voice. "You ready for a day full of adventure?"

Steve grins and nods, stepping out and closing the door behind him. "Lead the way. As long as there are no monsters to fight, I'm game."

Eddie's plan is simple: a picnic in an empty field he found a few weeks ago, but first some good old-fashioned ball throwing to indulge Steve's love of sports. It's no secret that Eddie hates sports, but he's willing to make an exception for Steve. He often feels that Steve is the one indulging the kids, Robin, or even himself, because except for Lucas, none of their friends enjoy sports, either playing or watching.

So Eddie wants to show Steve that his hobbies and interests are important too, and that Eddie can try to be as involved in them as Steve is in his.

They drive to the field with music blasting, a mix tape that Eddie has made especially for this occasion, a perfect blend of his and Steve's taste in music, and he feels a little more at ease as Steve sings along, off-key and carefree. When "Somebody To Love" comes on, Steve playfully nudges him with his elbow and Eddie joins him as they both sing along, grinning broadly.

"Did you bring me here to murder me and get rid of the body, Munson?" Steve jokes at the sight of the empty field and Eddie lets out a theatrical cackle.

"Afraid I'm going to have my way with you, Harrington?"

Heat pools in his stomach at the smile Steve gives him in response.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

Deciding on a hasty retreat before he does something embarrassing like whimper, Eddie climbs out of the van and goes to the back, pulling out an old baseball and a pair of gloves.

"Thought we could start with this," Eddie says, holding up the ball to Steve, who has followed him to the back of the van.

Steve's eyes light up at the sight. "You remembered."

As if Eddie could ever forget all the secrets and stories Steve had shared with him, while the stars above them were the only witnesses to some of the best moments of Eddie's life.

Steve had told him how he had always loved baseball as a little boy, and how his father had sometimes taken him to games. Looking back, Steve said he probably loved his father's attention and time more than the sport itself, but for whatever reason, it had been his first great love. He collected all the cards and knew everything there was to know about stats and players and rules. All he wanted was to be a player.

When he tried out at school, he didn't make the team. It was only years later that Steve found out why he had trouble hitting the ball with his bat: he had impaired vision, something his parents never bothered with, so he was never examined. At the time, he believed it was because he wasn't good enough, a failure. His dad seemed to think the same thing, because after he didn't make the team, he never took Steve to games again.

Steve hadn't played since, so Eddie figured it was time to help Steve have some good memories of baseball again.

Eddie shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, figured you'd like it."

They toss the ball back and forth, Steve coaching Eddie on his form, laughing when Eddie fumbles a catch. They're both having fun, and Eddie starts to relax, thinking maybe this date won't be a disaster after all.

But then Eddie misjudges a throw, and the ball smacks him right on the forehead. He stumbles back, more surprised than hurt, but his confidence takes a hit.

"Shit, Eddie, you okay?" Steve rushes over, concern etched on his face.

Eddie laughs it off, though his heart sinks. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just my luck, huh?"

Steve looks relieved but still worried. "Maybe we should take a break."

Eddie nods, feeling like he's already ruined things. He wonders why he thought it was a good idea to throw a ball with an ex-jock when he failed gym class more than once. So much for giving Steve a good baseball memory.

Still, he trudges over to the van to get everything they need for the picnic he has planned. The delighted smile on Steve's face at the sight of the basket and the blanket under Eddie's arm makes him think that maybe all is not lost. But just as he spreads out the blanket and unloads the food he's prepared, he glances up at the sky and sees dark clouds gathering. Still, he clings to the hope that they can finish before the rain comes.

Eddie should have known better. Luck and he have only been acquaintances at the best of times.

Just as they're settling in, the first raindrop falls, then another, and within seconds, it's pouring.

Eddie's heart sinks. This day was supposed to be perfect, and now it's a mess. "I'm so sorry, Steve. This was supposed to be perfect and now —"

Steve cuts him off with a bright laugh, his hair plastered to his forehead, rain running down his face. "Eddie, it's fine. Really."

Eddie looks at him, confused. "But the rain, and the ball, and—"

Steve steps closer, cupping Eddie's face in his hands. "I don't care about any of that. I care about you. You did so much for me today, Eddie." And before Eddie can respond, Steve kisses him.

It's a soft, lingering kiss that makes Eddie forget about the rain, the ball, and everything else. When they pull apart, Steve's smiling. "This is perfect, Eddie."

Eddie laughs, feeling lighter than he has all day. "Yeah, it kinda is."

As they pack up the picnic in the pouring rain, Eddie realizes that maybe perfection isn't about everything going right. Maybe it's about finding the right moments, even in the midst of chaos, with the right person.

[devoutekuna]

Matching their father's energy

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Sukuna's daughter definitely inherited the mouth that can move all around her body, normally her father would use it to bite her whenever she was acting like a brat, and she took that upon herself to do the same, finally mastering the movement of the small mouth, always keeping it on the palm of her hand. Using it to her advantage as she bit anyone she found annoying, especially her father, even trying to sharpen the teeth inside of it so that it would hurt more, but her father didn't even notice that he had been bitten since it was so weak to him. "Did you feel that?" Grinning at him, as her head stuck into his eyesight. "Feel what?" Pushing her head out of his way, he hadn't even noticed that she had bitten it. A distraught look appearing on her face as she heard his question. "But I bit you!" Waving her hand in his face. "Didn't feel a thing" smirking at her as he put her on the floor.

Nanami-

"Thank you love" kissing your cheek as you handed him a coffee. He was sat reading a book at the kitchen table, his daughter sat opposite him,marrying to copy his actions, first by reading a book, staring at it despite not understanding a word it said, it was about finances so of course she didn't get it, even putting on someone's glasses she found. "Can I have one too mummy?" Talking about the coffee as she pointed at it.

"No, I'm not giving you a coffee" a small chuckle being heard as he peered over his book, trying to cover it up with a cough. "Why not!?" Acting shocked as if she hadn't been told repeatedly that she wasn't to have caffeine. "Cause I said so." Defending your point and you poured yourself a cup, gloating in her face. "But dad gets one" mumbling under her breath as she slouched In her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

Geto-

His daughter has seen him countlessly swallow the balls full of curses, watching her father's disgust appear as he washed it away and put on a smile for him daughter, later she had found out about the minty flavour of chewing gum, always going to the shop to buy some with you. Soon enough she wanted to try do what he was doing, finding a small button in the house and shoving it down her throat only to choke on it and fortunately he was there to save her, even though it ended in tears, she still tried again but with bigger objects.

Gojo-

Gojo has a thing for eating big meals, so when his son was born, he wasn't surprised that he had a big appetite just like him. Scoffing down nearly a full tub of ice-cream, it was 2am and Satoru had just woken up for a drink, walking into the kitchen only to find his 3 year old with a spoon in his mouth and a half empty tub of vanilla ice-cream, sat on the tile flooring. "Hi daddy" smiling at the man as he rook the spoon out of his mouth, going in for another spoonful before realising how rude it was not to offer some. Hand stuck out with a spoon attached to it. "Want some?" Oblivious to the fact that he had just eaten half a tub. Scratching his bare stomach as he wore only sweatpants, pondering if he should take the offer. "I'm good" patting the girl's head as he walked towards the fridge.

Toji-

He has a thing for killing people, that's why he was an assassin fortunately your daughter didn't know how to kill nor use her cursed technique. For her birthday she had been begging for a bat after seeing a group of kids playing with one.

"Hiyahh!" Hitting the man with the wooden bat, you didn't understand why she needed a wooden one and not a plastic one, but then again, it was the same bat that a professional baseball player used. "Go away",grabbing the bag and bringing it to his face. "Go use your ball if you want to use this" he didn't understand why she didn't use the ball that came with it, instead trying to smash up anything in her path, though it was normally just cushions.

[theoceansluvr]

Baseball Player! Percy Jackson x Reader

warnings; none ! author's notes; oooo how i love baseball player Percy headcanons.. i eat up every single moodboard people make of him it's insane !!! watched an entire Yankees game while writing this too sooo.. (Juan Soto come home the kids miss you😞)

behind the lovely Sally Jackson herself, you're his biggest fan !!

there's nobody louder than you two cheering Percy's name

he gives you his training jersey because of course he does.

this man's ego inflates tenfold whenever you wear it too

especially if it's a jersey with his last name on it too

he's has a million thoughts going through his head about everything ever

in his defense, you look really good with a big 03 on your back so he's not complaining !

you know how players like.. run the top of the bat over the sand ?(i can't explain this but y'all know what i mean)

well he does your initial

nobody really questions it either

he does it in games, in practice, everything

watches every single Yankees game(me too)

he actually daydreams about playing for them it's kinda cute

he's a die hard New Yorker what can i say ?

you could start dating him not even caring about baseball and 3 months in you know almost all the rules and top players

he's a bit of a yapper-

anyways !

he brings you to the batting cage with him

mainly because he's a show off but also because he wants to teach you how to play !

of course he won't force you

but that dorky smile on his face when he sees you try is well worth the terror of getting hit in the face

good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good luck kisses good lu-

you get the point

also kisses for winning or losing

usually winning because he's an absolute UNIT on his team

has you initials embroidered onto his hat im afraid

likes pitching but is an insane hitter

jack of all trades if you will

if you won't that's alright too

you make him those really cool gift boxes

you made one for him after his last game of the season and he actually cried

he never takes off/gets rid of whatever you gave him

plus you bring snacks so his team is obsessed with you

they ask more about you than they do Percy i'm not even kiddin'

uhhh possibly, maybe is on his best performance all the time but ESPECIALLY when you come to his games + practices

his coach literally encourages you to come because of this fact

calls you his lucky charm

"Everytime you come, we always win !" as if he doesn't always play well

which you explained to him, to which he brushed off and ignored

".. You're initials on my hat helped ?"

he's trying okay ?

the first time you took him to an actual MLB game he lost it

peppered you and kisses and couldn't sit still the whole time

he was the loudest one in the stadium i can tell you that much !

would also FREAK if he got his bat signed by his favorite player

who that may be is entirely up to y'all

i feel like he follows the necklace tradition so he wears a little locket that has a picture of you two in it

you are the only person that can touch his bat

he considers it bad luck for anybody else except you

that's all of my long windedness for tonight im afraid loves🗣️

i love you baseball and i love you more Percy Jackson !!

[syxilla]

If requests is still up then - Can you please do a kenji sato x best friend/ extrovert x introvert relationship. Where kenji likes showing off , reader is reserved. And like a balanced relation?!🙏

Kenji x !introverted bestfriend reader

my requests are open dw! actually this is my first ever ask, so idrk how i'll do- but i think i got what u wanted correctly? (pls tell me if im wrong) also, as usual i dont proof read so mind my mistakes! (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

cw: ken sato x gender neutral reader, relatively sfw, introverted reader, (pre-relationship) best friend reader, reader is a pessimist, ken is aggresively kind (kinda)

-bestfriend! kenji who aggresively shakes you while holding your arm. "y/n!" kenji yells excitedly, this made you drop your book, bending its pages. "oh my- what do you want ji?" you grumbled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. "you~" he flirted while smirking.

-bestfriend! kenji who gets a flick in the middle of his forehead. "you made me drop my book." who'd rub the spot with a pout playing on his lips. "that hurttt" he whined. "and what do you want me to do about it?" youd query, picking up your book tryying to find the page. "a kiss to make the pain go away?"hed smile.

-bestfriend! kenji who's smile would grow wider once he felt your soft lift press against his head briefly. "thank you!" hed drag out before swinging an arm pver your shoulder to bring you closer. you know, regular friend things.

-bestfriend! kenji who always forces you out of your comfort zone by dragging you to events such as concerts, parades, festivals and most recently the movies. the movies where hed buy everything for you both, eat an absurd amount of snacks you both knew would make his tummy hurt and yet he still did. putting on a mask to not draw any unwanted attention to you both. forcing you to watch horror movies with him that had an excessive amount of blood and nightmare fuel, making you cling onto his arm whenever itd make you jump. not that he minded. of course he wouldnt mind, he never did when it was you.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd rent out the entire theater if you really didnt want to interact with anyone. youd always try to discourag him from doing so, saying he shouldnt spend a lot of money on you, but he always says its fine. he loves to show off his wealth to you, and he also loves to spoil you. buyinng you gifts and practically anything you wanted. just say the word and youll have it. perks of having rich baseball players as a (sadly) best friend.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd drag you into various fancy stores that someone of your working class would have no idea about just so you could rate the things hed grab. "does this shirt look good on me?" hed ask, as if he could look bad in anything. and youd nod, a slight warmness in your cheeks when youd watch him change in and out of each shirt. trying your best to not stare.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd lay his head on yours or on your shoulder after a tiring game. only wanting to sleep. and you didnt mind, just ruffling his hair and enjoying the company of your friend. all while ignoring the little voices in your friend that were desperately trying to change the word friend into something else.

-bestfriend! kenji who promises to always be by your side in larger crowds. tuggling you close enough so that you felt the warmth generating off of his body. you especially liked this warmth during the winter, he was like your own personal fireplce wrapped in a ball of cuteness and a ribbon of sarcasm.

-bestfriend! kenji who you may or may not have feelings for. the same kenji who just asked you out on a date.

(i hope i didnt dissapoint, ty again for submitting an ask, i hope i did u justice!)

[amyriadofleaves]

୨ kenji sato — old habits die hard. ˚୧

synopsis : kenji sato breaks under the weight of new, unfamiliar eyes ─ foolishly confessing his love to the public. you, the one that got away, are stupid enough to fall into his trap. will you two ever be able to just be friends?

⌗ pairing : kenji sato x fem!reader ; warnings : alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos ; word count: 3k ; angst!!!

© an amyriadofleaves work. do not plagiarise, translate, or use to train ai.

KENJI SATO, newly recruited, renowned and beloved baseball player of The Giants, is being interrogated to the bone.

“Come on, relationships have nothing to do with my career,” he sneers with a curl of the lip, guise of unease betrayed by the incessant movement of his knee concealed by the navy blue tablecloth.

A woman, clad in a blazer, follows up with her question. “They have everything to do with your career, Mr Sato. You return to Tokyo only weeks before your championship with the Dodgers. Why?”

The silent, yet deafening clicks of cameras give Kenji a pocket of air to swallow hard, clearing his throat into his fist. Perhaps it’s the heat of the moment, but he doesn’t realise that the baritone of his voice had been caught by the mic, blaring through the speakers. Not that it was his intention to shut the whole room up, but he’ll take his victories. 

Kenji eyes his PR team in the back of the room, giving them the look they’ve been trained countless times  to know he’s about to make a dumb move — after many close misses, perhaps this is the blow he deserves to take. “Ms. Wakita, right? Ever associate something you love with someone you’ve loved? Well — I’m simply here to feel a little closer to that someone. I hope you understand, Ms. Wakita, that I wish to not elaborate any further.” 

He shoots a small smirk at the camera airing this conference live, hoping with some semblance of his untouched ego that you’d see it.

Ami Wakita eyes him with an amused look, penning down every word of his down to a T. Kenji Sato, sitting on the other side of the room, takes a generous gulp of water before plastering that shit eating grin that glitters amongst the sea of camera flashes. “That’s all for tonight, everyone. Keep your eye out for the Ken Sato on the field.” A subtle wink at the camera goes unnoticed by the man behind it, but certainly not by you. 

Because nothing gets past you.

You chuckle nervously at the man seated next to you, the silhouette of your ex tracing every inch the projector can cover. Sure, word had spread about Ken Sato returning to Tokyo, but you thought it an utter sham; whether it was in the States, or home in Japan, gossip columns would and still will fight tooth and nail for ways of profit. And you, of all people, should know this well. Though hard to admit, his face swamped you with a multitude of emotions your trip to the bar was supposed to help with, but little Ken just had to ruin the fun — along with the pleasure your distraction, a white, tall, and borderline conceited man was supposed to provide you with.

Looks like that’s going to have to be another day, then.

“You a fan of that guy?” the man asks, brusquely pointing to the live broadcast. 

Adjusting your top, you sceptically analyse the way his eyes dip to your chest, and your brows furrow as his gaze trails lower, and lower… “More than a fan actually.” your voice comes out meek, and you think this is how you broadcast your lie to the world. But your audience is a tipsy man with a shell for a brain, so what threat does he bring to you?

More than a fan, huh? It was definitely more than that. From late night drinks to advancements you swear on your whole being to not speak of, you think you’d consider yourself more than that. 

Frankly, with no terms to address the man except for using the term ‘man’, you know nothing about the drunk specimen in front of you — and he knows nothing of you, either.

He scoots closer to you, arms rested against the bar table. The stifling scent of his cologne does nothing to drown the beer’s breath with every syllable coming out his mouth. “Well if you’re the fan you claim to be, how have you not recognised me yet?”

You almost scowl at his cockiness. It’s even worse than Ken’s! God. “Well, unfortunately, I only focus on the important players. ” Your words come out muffled as you take a shot of vodka, sliding it across the table to request for another to add to your tab. It’s your fifth, and you haven’t even started feeling fuzzy yet; this is going to be a long night.

The man, on the other hand, seems piss drunk — and given your observations, this is only his third shot.

Lightweight, you note, his flushed cheeks and lidded eyes a spectacle for sore eyes. You feel your heart constrict into itself; for a second, in your stupor, his face flits to Ken's. Pulling away from him, you turn your head to the couple sat in a booth to divert your attention, but it only makes matters worse — so you resort to shutting the world out.

“I could show you how important I am if you’d come over to my place,” the man mewls, slithering his hand onto your thigh. It’s awfully easy to catch his bluff, and you certainly aren’t buying that awful sneer.

A nervous, polite laugh leaves your lips before you swat his arm away with a chastising glare. “I think you’ve got this wrong. I don’t think you know how important I am.”

He begins to giggle, and he keeps on giggling until he’s caught by a snort. You can’t help but grimace. There are many things you aren’t sure of, but you know for a fact that there was absolutely no shot that this man was an athlete. “And just who might you be?”

A satisfied smile tugs at the sides of your lips. “That just gives you your answer. I’m too important for you, and our conversation is over.”

You grab your purse and slam a hundred dollar bill onto the table, swiping the man’s shot and downing your own shot and his at once. The buzz of alcohol numbs the burn as it travels down your throat. 

He grabs your wrist with a quivering grip. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Haven’t you heard? I am the most demanded model in this city. So if you think you can win me over with sweet talk, you’re wrong.” You wrench the hold he has on you, and backhand him (though the swing is terribly calculated). 

See, if you were sober, you would’ve held him to it — that he owed you. But with seven shots of vodka now finally working its way through your system, you let it slide.

Your stilettos click angrily against the marble floor, and you walk out with two lies.

The first: You weren’t at the bar for a good time.

The second: You definitely aren't a model at the biggest agency in Tokyo.

The bell tied to the handle of the door jingles as you storm out (with a concerning amount of difficulty) of the bar with your thumb out on the road. 

“Taxi!” you shout, to no fruition. 

After ten minutes of nothing, an orange taxi stops and swerves to your end of the sidewalk.

Stumbling into the taxi with nothing to show for the decorum you had seven shots ago, you slip off your heels and hug the headrest of the taxi driver. “To the Sato Residence please,” you command — or so you think you do — before keeling to the side and vomiting up your dinner.

“Ken. I don’t think that was a very good idea,” the supercomputer Mina reprimands, robotic arms reaching for her spherical head. 

Ken maintains an unbothered pose with his arms crossed. “But it sure as hell was an amazing one.” He curtly taps the bottom of his couch with his heel to reach for a drink in his mini fridge, only for it to shine with the enthusiasm of seven coconut water cans.

“Ugh Mina,” he groans, sliding a clammy hand down his face. “Do you not have anything else?”

“Would you like it if I gave you water instead?”

This only spurs him to move both his hands to cover his face in what Mina detects is shame. She floats closer to him, the light of her eyepiece a stinging pain against the backdrop of dimness. “Is something wrong? I detect you are going through… some stress.”

“Yes Mina, yes I am! And it’s not ‘cause I just outed being in love with someone in Tokyo —” He trails off, digging himself into a deeper hole when hit with the realisation that Tokyo, out of the cities in Japan, is a small world of connection. Everyone knows everyone. Shit.

She reaches for a can of coconut water with a metallic arm and opens it, offering it to him. Ken, coming empty for excuses, accepts the drink, wincing as he sips it. “It’s ‘cause I still — nevermind.”

“Because you still what, Ken?”

“Goddamnit Mina. Do I have to spell it out for you? I still miss this girl!” He thinks of you and almost makes himself sick at the thought of you with another man; and for a sudden, lurching moment, he wishes he never had an imagination at all. 

He slumps into his seat, peeking through the slits of his fingers, admittedly curious to see what the robot’s reaction to his statement would be. 

Ken visibly wilts when she doesn’t move a muscle — or robotic limb, or whatever.

“Would you like for me to contact her?” “Yeah no, no.” He shakes his head, but stops mid-action. “Wait — how do you know who I’m talking about? I don’t think I’ve ever talked about her, have I?”

She floats around him as if in orbit, and pokes at his head. He whines out an ow! “You have. When severely intoxicated. Which is why I’m not giving you anything other than coconut water.” “God save me.” 

And that He does, when Ken’s moping is interrupted with a ding of the entrance. 

You rethink what you’ve known about yourself, and it’s that you certainly cannot take seven shots of vodka, and that it leads you to doing stupid things: like walking half a kilometre of an automatic bridge just to have it out with Ken Sato. 

Any normal person would have walked the distance in less than five minutes, but it took you twenty. Still, in your eyes, pretty impressive. You give yourself a pat on the back; but for some reason, the intention is off and you’ve just slapped yourself in the chest. Way to go.

The alarm to his house doesn’t blare when you heave the gate open. Woah, since when did it get so heavy? You giggle to yourself, the prospect of no alarms going off an unimportant matter in the midst of your exhilaration.

Stumbling to his doorstep, your heels click sloppily on cement — confident stride muffled by the slurring of words you never knew existed in the first place. You feel your way to the entrance, sliding your hands across a bike — his bike. If your sight wasn’t blurred, you could spot a polaroid of a familiar face taped just a little to the left of the speedometer.

Your wandering hands lose hold of the vehicle and feel for the doorbell, and clumsy you misses the mark. Bullseye, your Ken would say, glimmering with all the love in the world when your arrow proved as accurate as your aim.

Leaning against a pillar, you almost slip forward before the door opens just in time. But instead of meeting marble, you meet the warmth of an embrace.

Seeing him in the flesh stirs something terribly nostalgic you could definitely use for vomiting in the taxi again.

“Hey, Ken Sato, how’s it going?” you mumble with your gestures sluggish — and ultimately, very miscalculated; so your attempt at sounding sober goes to waste the second you bump head first into the man who completely did not expect to see you.

Ken stumbles backward in both surprise and the sudden addition of weight on either side of his arms; and to him, you sound like a garbled mess. But above all, you’re still the same girl who cussed him out the first time you met. 

You try to walk, but the attempt goes to shit, and you see a floaty thing manifest a bed at Ken’s own command. Crazy stuff. You almost fall for Ken’s offer to carry you, but you’re not one to fall back into bad habits.

When you sag onto the mattress, you see him crouch down so your face is level with his. “[Name], what happened?” 

“You happened, Ken. Finally found me worthy enough to come back for? I saw your little speech about love at that press conference,” you seethe, ignoring how your words end in a quiver. Brimming, hot tears, betray whatever semblance of composure an intoxicated woman can hold for herself. Suck it up, you tell yourself — because if you needed to cry, it would not be in front of the reason.

This mantra doesn’t seem to hold for any longer than you think it will, because you finally find something that makes you break: his own, crestfallen curl of the lip.

“Hey, hey,” he starts, hesitantly reaching to wipe the tears staining your face. But seeing you after two years, such intimacy came at a price: your complacency. Would she want it? Want me? He thinks, eyes diverted so he wouldn’t have to bear the sight of someone he never knew as messy. Someone he never knew to break. 

He, against all his strongest desires, retracts his hand. In some act of desperation, in some act of needing to feel him, you take his hand and press it against your cheek. He brushes the tears pooling around his thumb in slow circles, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You wouldn’t consider his words nothing, not after he mutters a quiet, incomprehensible ‘I won’t leave you. Not this time.’ under his breath. 

Nothing gets past you.

“But you lied. And I believed you. Over and over —” you hiccup, your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. 

His voice softens a notch, and it's so subtle someone as wasted as you wouldn’t notice, but you find you notice it more than you would’ve with a clearer mind. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? Because the last time I checked, you were the one who left me behind.”

He doesn’t reply.

He knows he should take your words with a grain of salt, and against his better judgement, he doesn’t. To be frank, he never did. Every word from your lips dripped with golden honey, and he still, against his better judgement, savours every last drop.

You choke up on a sob, and Ken rushes to trace lines from the cliff of your shoulder bone to the very tips of your fingers. It was something he used to do — a little joke between the two of you. Something you shook off as a placebo, and something he insisted helped you with your anxiety.

Or rather, the only way he knew how.

It was — and still is, the only way for him to level the wrinkles of your face, just so he could at least see you soothe in his arms — for some morbid part of him crunches up at the thought of this being the last time he sees you; in this state, delirious, yet, for lack of better words: painfully right.

“I just — I just wish we could go back to being us,” you croak, reaching to trace the fine lines of his face. Your touch blindly feels for the familiar: the dip from his jawline to the nape of his neck, the scar soldered into his cheekbone, the softness of his lips. 

All rhyme or reason (if there was any to begin with) blurs into the fray, and the war raging in your chest comes to a standstill, docile in nature. You feel his Adam's apple bob against your touch, and your hand travels, and travels, until met with your comfort against the cacophony of searing voices. 

The approach is slow and borderline sloppy — though you can’t expect much of it. It’s just how things were with the two of you. Your lips hover against his, before you give up everything you’ve ever believed in for a crash against his lips, the taste of vodka weaving into his veins (except that it’s not the vodka, it’s very obviously you).

He rounds around the curve of the bed to feel you, and you let his hands wander. Some part of you screams in reprimand — that for some inexplicable reason, you’d regret this in the morning. But why would you regret having everything you’ve wished for in the very palm of your hands?

That is exactly why.

The high is stripped from you like an angel of its wings, and you pull away, eyes puffy and lips swollen. “I — we can’t do this.”

He pulls away, brows knitted. “We can’t and yet we still are doing this! [Name], what is it you really want?” His eyes search yours for an answer, before he gives you that look again. 

You smile, and this time, it’s beautifully real. “I don’t know. But it has to stop. We’re a mess, can’t you see?”

“Yes, we are. But that was our thing.” That is our thing, a voice inside him screams, but the words die on his tongue. Again, and again, his words fail him like he does a lost game.

Everything around you is a swirl of blocked colour, but you squint through the grain and push him away with a light nudge of his chest against your palms.

“And it isn’t gonna stop until one of us does,” you say, biting your lip from going back on your word.

“We can make it work. I promise,” he begs, reaching for your hands. 

In an attempt to shrug off your daze, you rake a hand through your hair and reach for your purse that had fallen in the heat of it. “We loved each other, Ken. But I think we should stop convincing ourselves we still do.”

His eyes flit to the floor, and his tousled hair falls against his nose. And to a certain pair of people an arbitrary moment ago, they would’ve thrown themselves against all propriety upon white bed sheets with sun peeking through the blinds, and your fingers would’ve combed through strands of tousled, jet black hair that appeared honey like in the dawn.

Through the haze of your high, you catch a glimmer of hope you’ve never seen him have. “Please, you’re still drunk. Let us discuss this when both of us are in our heads, yeah?”

Tilting your head to the side, it is your only sign of complacency that he recognises amidst it all. Through your insobriety, your smile can only tell him just as much: 

This is never gonna end, and we both know it so.

a/n: hello hello!!! please excuse the sappiness i've written the bulk of this at times where I shouldntve been awake GOD I blame it on the fact that this guy actually consumes every morsel of my SOUUL

[prettiestlovergirl]

hii! its tots fine if no but could you maybe do some fluff with basketball player luke and like him tryinh to teach you how to play?🙈

i read basketball & fluff and my one tree hill obsessed heart started singing. YES, ABSOLUTELY I CAN DO THIS <3333 have to preface this by saying that i know like nothing about basketball, though. i am a strictly baseball-hockey girl myself sdjfhskdjfh. my knowledge is limited but i will do my best, hehe. she's short and sweet. enjoy, my lovely! 𓆩♡𓆪

"you might be the worst player i have ever seen, and i once watched grover try to play." your boyfriend, luke castellan, chuckled unhelpfully from behind you.

you and luke had been going out for a couple of months now and honestly? you'd never been happier. he'd made you feel so welcome your first week of camp and every day since, he'd made you feel safe and cared for.

you were basically luke's dream girl. you were funny, caring, charming, and you had very quickly become his safe space. your one big flaw, however, was that you couldn't play basketball for shit.

the two of you had been playing horse on the camp court and you were failing... miserably. luke already had H-O-R-S and you... had no letters. yeah, you were that bad.

"in the words of annabeth: statistically speaking, you should have at least gotten one by now." he grinned, his smile only growing wider when you turned around to glare at him.

"oh, fuck off! not all of us are basketball superstars!" you huffed, but you couldn't help but laugh along with him. this was part of why you cared about him so much, he could always make you laugh despite yourself.

"if this is the best you can do, i don't think we can see each other anymore. makes me look bad." he laughed, quickly getting up from the bench he was on to avoid getting hit with the ball you tossed at him.

"i'm kidding, i'm kidding! c'mere." he laughed, beckoning you toward him with that easy smile you loved. "i can't do it, basketball is not one of my many skills! quit on me, castellan, i'll only slow you down." you sighed dramatically.

"alright, drama queen. you can, just trust me." luke stated, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. "square your shoulders, to the basket." he instructed, watching as you begrudgingly did as told, lips formed in a little pout.

"now, you gotta bring the ball up right past your nose like this, okay?" he instructed, demonstrating exactly what to do with his own arms, ball in hand as you went through the motion with him.

"bend your knees a little." he corrected, holding the ball out for you to grab before stepping behind you. "relax your hips..." he murmured, gently placing his hands on you and leaning down to your ear to make sure you could still hear him... and also to be a romantic sap.

"and... just shoot." he stated, eyes watching you while you eyed the hoop suspiciously. "that's it? just shoot?" you asked, voice a little breathy as you turned your head a bit to look at him. "just shoot." he repeated with a nod.

"well, here goes nothing." you sighed, bending your knees a little more before bending a little and letting the ball fly out of your hands and... right into the net.

"holy shit" you breathed, grin breaking out onto your face as you turned to look at your smiling, slightly cocky boyfriend. "told you so." he smirked, grunting a bit on impact as you flung your arms around him with a laugh.

"okay, maybe you can be right sometimes." you relented, sighing dramatically like it was the hardest thing you'd ever have to admit. "that's very big of you, babe." he chuckled, eyes shining with adoration as he looked at you.

"now, do it a few more times and maybe you'll catch up to me." luke hummed, jogging leisurely to go pick up the ball from it's spot by the bench.

"nuh uh, castellan. i'm going out on the high of making that one shot, i'm retired, 'm too good to keep going." you stated, shaking your head and turning on your heel to leave.

"quitter!" he called after you, grinning as you simply flipped him off and kept walking. "see you before dinner?"

"duh, you owe me a victory kiss."

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[pasukiyo]

SWINGS AND MISSES

mlb player!steve harrington x f!reader word count: 6288 words warnings: angst and smut notes: i don't know if i made it super clear in the story but steve plays for the phillies in this au summary: with steve's record-breaking walk-off home run, it should've been an extraordinary night. but steve's wife can't help her longing for hawkins, and when she hears from one of his teammates a rumor that steve may have received an offer from a team even farther away from home, she finally meets her breaking point.

AUGUST, 1994;

“I’ve never seen a home run in real life before! It was incredible!”

 Steve’s lips curled into a smile as he held the baseball close to his stomach with his left hand, a marker in his right, printing his signature on the ball. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make a good first impression, bud,” he chuckled, leaning further into the wall separating the stands from the field to hand the ball back over before taking another from the other young boy beside him. 

 “Yeah. The announcer even said it broke a record! That was such a cool way to end the game,” the boy said as Steve handed him his newly autographed ball, capping the marker and stuffing it in the back pocket of his baseball pants. “I’ve never seen a homer hit that far! And it was a walk-off!”

 “Yeah, I think it even went out of the park!” The other younger boy exclaimed and Steve laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wanna hit like you one day!”

 “Yeah, how do we learn to hit like you?”

 Steve laughed again at the rapid fire questions, uncrossing his arms to lift his baseball cap off his head and run his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair. “It’s all about the effort you put into the game. It’s all pointless if you don’t take the time to practice, right?” he replied, glancing away when out of the corner of his eye, he could make out a figure making its way down the stairs, heading in their direction.

 A very familiar figure. 

 “Yeah! I practice all the time!” One of the younger boys responded, a wide grin on his face. “Sometimes, my mom brings her video camera to record me at batting practice. I love going to the cages!”

 Steve was trying his best to keep his attention focused on the two children in front of him, he really was, but how could he possibly focus on anything else when his wife was coming his way looking like that? His muscles ached with fatigue and his stomach growled, and all he really wanted was to get some food in his system, clean himself up, and maybe even make a little love to his wife before getting a good night’s sleep. The closer she got, the harder he found it to maintain his patience. 

 The young boys in front of him continued to babble on about the practice they do outside of games as Steve’s wife approached in one of his jerseys— which was a few sizes too big for her— tucked into denim shorts, a Phillies baseball cap fit snug to her head. Steve’s grin widened as she approached and he gave her upper arm a squeeze before turning back to the children. 

 “I really hate to have to go but I’m sure your parents would hate me if I kept you boys up too late anyways,” Steve chuckled, raising a hand to the crown of his head to give the boys a little salute as he helped his wife climb over the wall and step onto the field. “Keep practicing!” He called over his shoulder as he threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders, giving her arm a squeeze. “And respect your parents!”

 Her face pulled into a smile and her chest heaved with a laugh as she glanced up at him, scrunching her face when he met her gaze. “Look at you being so good with kids,” she giggled, lacing her fingers together with the ones dangling from her shoulders. “Almost like we’re back in Hawkins.”

 Steve rolled his eyes at this comment, pulling her in closer so that he could press a kiss against her temple as he led them towards the dugout where only a few of his fellow teammates remained. “At least these kids don’t drive me up the fuckin’ wall,” he snorted. “You know Henderson called the other day just to make fun of the way I run bases?”

 She tried to suppress her laugh as he pulled away from her to gather his equipment and he turned to cock an eyebrow at her as he snatched his helmet, tossing his batting gloves and fielding glove inside it when she let a giggle slip through the cracks of her lips. “What?” He watched as she crossed an arm over her chest and propped her opposite elbow against it, hiding her smile behind her knuckles. She shook her head, “nothing, nothing.”

 Steve pressed his lips together in a pout and stood back up, a hand on his hip. “You think the way I run bases is funny too, don’t you?” He used his helmet to gesture over to where she stood, scoffing in disbelief when she broke into laughter, trying her best to hide it behind her hand. “I can’t believe you.”

 One of his teammates strolled up, reaching past Steve to grab his bat, using his other hand to clasp his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better buddy, we all think you run bases funny,” he spoke with a grin and she erupted in laughter again as Steve used his glove to smack him against his shoulder. 

 “Oh, fuck off Kev,” he grumbled as he plopped down on the bench, prying his cleats off his feet. She giggled as she shuffled between his legs, cupping his face and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s okay, babe. On the bright side, your ass still looks ridiculously good in those pants,” she tittered and he rolled his eyes, playfully pushing her face away as he slipped on his slides. 

 “Whatever. You can talk to me once you’ve stopped taking Henderson’s side,” Steve rolled his eyes as he gathered the rest of his things and she followed him down the steps leading into the locker room, her hands in her back pockets. She gazed down at her feet, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating what she said next. 

 “You know… kinda miss that kid,” she said softly and Steve furrowed a brow, peeking at her from over his shoulder. “Are we talking about the same Henderson right now?” He asked and she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s just… you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve seen him. And everybody. And… Hawkins…”

 “We went back for Christmas, remember?” She pressed her lips together and felt her face fell, wrapping her arms around herself, shrugging. “Yeah, I know but I mean… it was just an overnight trip and that was months ago…” She trailed off, stopping in her tracks when Steve’s name permeated the corridor and she turned to face the source of the voice. 

 “Coach,” Steve acknowledged the Head Coach of the Phillies, taking the older man’s hand when he outstretched it for him to shake. “The man of the hour!” Coach exclaimed before glancing behind Steve where she stood, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Always good to see you, Mrs. Harrington,” he greeted and she nodded back, a shy smile on her face as she weakly waved. “You wouldn’t mind if I stole your husband for a quick minute, would you?”

 Steve blinked back at her, a slight furrow still in his brow but she waved him off anyway. “As long as you promise to bring him back,” her laugh came out as more of a breath, but the coach chuckled anyway, leading Steve away towards his office. She stood alone in the empty hallway leading to the Phillies locker room, arms wrapped around herself, her heart pounding and mind racing. 

 She wasn’t sure what she was hoping would come out of confessing to Steve how homesick she felt. It wasn’t his fault they hardly ever had the time to visit— Major League Baseball was his career, traveling and moving one place to another was just part of it. 

 But still, she couldn’t resist the yearn she felt for something more… stable. For a place she could call home, for a place she could stay. Hawkins was home to her— it always, always was. Even after all the strange things she and Steve had experienced in the small town in Indiana, she still felt connected to the place, still had threads tying her down in its roots. It was where she grew up, where she had friends, where she had family. 

 But she wasn’t sure how Steve would feel about that. 

 “Harrington leave you all alone?”

 She turned to the source of the voice and there stood Matt, one of Steve’s teammates, big and burly as ever with his arms crossed and his baseball bag hanging from one of his shoulders. She forced a smile, “Coach needed to see him in his office. Maybe he’s in trouble.”

 Matt rolled his eyes at this, “yeah right, like Star Boy is gonna get in trouble,” he scoffed. “You know, rumor has it Boston’s interested in him.”

 She blinked. “Boston?” Steve had never mentioned this to her before, of course she knew his contract with the Phillies was about to expire, but surely he would’ve told her if he’d gotten any other calls? Was he keeping this from her?

 Matt lifted his baseball cap to scratch at his scalp, his brow furrowed, lips turned in confusion. “You didn’t know?” He asked, and she shook her head. “No… No, I didn’t.”

 As if her mind wasn’t already racing before, it was practically a typhoon now. Surely this was all a misunderstanding? Perhaps he was in the Head Coach’s office right now working out a new deal to renew his contract, maybe there was nothing to worry about after all. Because Steve would’ve told her about something like this, right?

 “Anyway, surely you have nothing to worry about,” Matt tittered as he sauntered past. “No matter where he ends up, he’ll be making a shit ton of more money than I’ll ever make in a lifetime, so what the hell do I care where he goes?”

 She blinked as Matt said his goodbyes and disappeared into the locker room, once again leaving her alone to her thoughts. It wasn’t long after that Steve finally reemerged from the Coach’s office, laughing at whatever had been said moments before. The sound of the door closing echoed through the hallway and Steve turned back to face her where she stood, gesturing with his head to the locker room. 

 “I’m gonna go get changed, be back in a minute,” he said, turning around before she had the chance to even open her mouth, disappearing inside the locker room. And the whole time she stood in that empty hallway alone, all she could think of was Boston and how much further away from home— Hawkins— it was. 

 She told him when he got drafted in the major leagues that she’d follow him anywhere he went— and she still stood by that. But was it so wrong for her to long for home, to miss her family, her friends? Was it so wrong to just wish for a week, even a weekend to go back and visit her loved ones? 

 And why was she so nervous to ask Steve about it?

 Steve had never been too fond of Hawkins. Perhaps, years of dealing with alternate reality monsters and scary Russian men will do that for you. But she knew Steve loathed Hawkins for another reason— his parents. His parents that were never there, his parents that never cared to show up to a high school basketball game, baseball games, even his own graduation. His parents that never even bothered to be there, who always had something better to do than be at home with their son. 

 Hawkins was where he grew up, Hawkins was a constant reminder of how unwanted he used to be. So of course he’d gotten out of there the first chance he got, of course he’d brush her off every time she wanted to go back, of course their time to visit was reduced down to a simple overnight stay over Christmas. 

 Hawkins would never be home to Steve Harrington, and sometimes she feared he failed to acknowledge that it was quite the opposite for her. 

 “Ready to go?” His voice broke her thoughts and she blinked up at him, now wearing sweats and a plain white tee, his hair messy and unkempt atop his head. He spun the keys to his old BMW around his pinky finger, pinching his lip between his teeth as he approached, using his free arm to sling around her shoulders. “Everything okay?” He asked, giving her a fleeting squeeze and pressing a kiss to her hair. 

 She wanted nothing more than to question him, ask him what the quick little meeting with his coach was about, ask him what she was hearing about being traded to the Red Sox, whether or not he’d been hiding it from her, and if he was considering taking them up on whatever they offered him. But not here— it could wait for the car. 

 “Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, letting him lead her towards the exit. The night air in Philadelphia had a bit of a chill and she shivered when Steve opened the door leading to the players’ parking lot, the old BMW he’s had since high school waiting for them beneath the lamppost light. She clutched the strap of her purse as they made their way towards the car, worrying her lip between her teeth.

 Steve glanced up at her over the top of his car as she circled around to the passenger’s side, swinging open the door and slipping inside. He watched as she buckled in her seat belt while he turned the keys in the ignition, her fingers dropping in her lap as she stared out the window. 

 “You sure everything’s okay?” He asked again, reaching over to brush his fingers against her knuckles. She turned to face him, face void of expression as their eyes surged into one another. Something was wrong, Steve could feel it. 

 “What was all that about?” She questioned. “You know, with your coach and all that.” Steve pulled his fingers away and leaned back into his seat, searching the steering wheel as he tried to string together what to say next. She watched as he scratched at his chin, outstretching his palm, “he wanted to discuss my contract,” he replied. “Since it’s expiring soon.”

 She nodded, pressing her lips together in an attempt to still her beating heart. Steve rolled his tongue against his cheek, unsure of what to say next, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, she drew in a shaky breath, gazing out the windshield. “I heard from Matt that Boston is interested in you.”

 Steve blinked, his lips pressed in a firm, thin line as he grew silent, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and turning the keys in the ignition with the other. The car roared to life and Steve said nothing as he turned to gaze out the back windshield to pull out of his parking space. Silence was thick in the air as he drove out of the parking lot, a lump forming in her throat and the tension was hot, a heavy weight on either of their chests. 

 “Why are you not talking to me?” She finally asked, glancing over to where he sat, jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping it. “Why didn’t you tell me about Boston?” She questioned, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Steve ran a hand through his hair, “the call only came in a few days ago.”

 Her stomach flipped at the admission and she turned, brow furrowed in disbelief. “You got the call a few days ago and didn’t think to tell me about it?” It was hard to hide her agitation now. “What happened to… to talking to each other, Steve? Don’t you think I would’ve liked to have known about something like this?”

 Steve tapped the pad of his thumb against the top of the steering wheel, propping his other arm against the window, cupping his chin in his palm. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he replied. “I know how much you hate traveling and I didn’t know how to bring it up and—“

 “Steve, I… don’t hate traveling,” she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest, scoffing as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “I told you early on that I have no issue following you anywhere you go, and I still stand by that. What I have an issue with is you, number one: not telling me any of this crap and number two: brushing me off when I tell you that I want to go home. Why can’t we go somewhere for me for once? You have off days, but we spend them doing what you want, never what I want.” Her words were pouring out of her but at this point, she couldn’t make them stop. 

 Months upon months of her frustrations that had been pushed to the side to rest were now forcing their way to the frontlines, and she realized now that she wanted to be heard. She didn’t want to be pushed to the sidelines anymore, she didn’t want to keep everything to herself anymore, she just wanted to be seen. She wanted everything she’d spent energy burying to be recognized, she wanted Steve to acknowledge her. 

 “Can we… not do this tonight?” Steve said at last, wiping his brow in vexation and gripping the steering wheel with a two hand feel. “I’m tired, you’re tired, so can we please just chill out and talk about this in the morning?” She gnawed at the flesh of the inside of his cheek, “no, Steve,” she spoke firmly, her tone as stern as it could get to let him know that she wouldn’t be cowering away this time. “I’m not tired. Don’t tell me to chill out whenever you don’t feel like listening. I’m not going to let you push me to the side this time,” she said just as the car rolled to a halt in front of a stoplight. 

 “I’m not pushing you to the side!” His voice has raised this time, but still, she had no intention of backing down. “Honestly, you’re sounding so selfish right now,” he muttered, shaking his head and gazing out the window to his side, keen on looking anywhere but at her.

 She blinked, clearly taken aback. “I’m being the selfish one?” She scoffed, pointing a finger to her chest. “You won’t even listen to me. You won’t even talk to me.” Steve didn’t reply as the light turned green, making it clear he didn’t want to argue any further, only adding more coal to her fire.

 She dropped her head, feeling the bitter sting of tears in her eyes that she desperately tried to lock away, sinking her teeth further into the plush of her lip to help keep them from falling. Feeling unheard was probably the worst feeling she’d ever felt in the world, it felt as if she were drowning, meters below the ocean, her screams falling onto deaf ears. All she could see for miles was darkness and she was falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of black. 

 Steve was usually her lifeline but now, he was further and further away, and she was sinking deeper and deeper…

 “So what is it then?” She said at last, turning her head to glimpse over to where he sat, her voice cutting through her throat like a knife. “We’re just gonna move to Boston— which is even further away from Hawkins, by the way— and everything will just be okay? We’re just gonna forget about our friends and family and throw away everything I want to do just so I can be King Steve’s good, obedient little wife?” She hissed, and Steve turned to face her now as he pulled into the parking lot of their luxury apartment building, eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

 “We spend all your off days doing whatever the hell you want, why can’t we take a weekend or something to go back home and see everyone?” She pressed further. “I miss them. I miss Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Max, El, Robin— Robin’s your fucking best friend and you’ve only seen her once in the past year. You can’t even stay on the phone with her for more than ten minutes now.”

 “Because I’m fucking busy trying to give us a future!” Steve practically roared, his voice like a crack of thunder, even making her tremble where she sat. She recoiled and pressed her lips together, blinking. “I’ve been working almost every single fucking day to provide for us, to provide for you. You tell me you understand that this is my career, that traveling and press conferences and practices and brand deals and all that other shit is just a part of it. But then you sit here and bitch at me for it, complaining that I’m not listening, that I’m being selfish when all I fucking do everyday is work so you can be comfortable!” 

 Her vision glossed over with the haze of tears again and she blinked, sniffing. “You’re missing the point, Steve. I never asked for you to give up your career. I never asked for you to take time off for me. I asked you to hear me. I asked that we use the time that you’re off to go back home,” she replied softly, her tone void of the firmness she held before. Steve didn’t dare look at her, eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead through the windshield, hands still tight around the steering wheel. 

 “Then what the hell’s stopping you from just leaving?” He asked, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, and she blinked, sure that tears were falling now. “So that’s your answer?” She grimaced at her own voice, watery and threatening to break. “You’re just going to push me away? Tell me to leave?”

 Steve closed his eyes, his chest heaving with a sigh as he leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the headrest. A moment of silence dangled between the two, neither seeming to know how to break it. One hand dropped to his lap and the other rose to his forehead, the bridge of his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her wet and sticky cheeks, pressing her lips together as she shook her head, gazing at the parking lot outside the window. The city was alive and noisy at this time of night, its light polluting the night sky and ceiling away the stars. 

 This wasn’t what she had grown up to know. Even still, the city was still foreign to her. She missed the quiet of a small town, missed looking up at the night sky and seeing the stars twinkling down at her. She just missed home. 

 But what was Hawkins without Steve in it too?

 “I don’t…” Steve began, blinking up at the ceiling of his car. “…I don’t know what to do.”

 She glanced over at him, her arms crossed over her stomach, her fingernails scratching lines into her skin. She looked at Steve now and saw someone she hadn’t seen in awhile, not since they lived in Hawkins. 

 Steve looked lost. 

 “I don’t know what the right thing to do is anymore,” he breathed a laugh at himself, flattening his palm against his eyes and shaking his head again. “I just feel like I’m letting you down no matter what I do.”

 She furrowed her brows together and turned in her seat until her back was against the door, her left leg bent and leaning against the back of her seat. “Steve, you’re not… you’re not letting me down,” she replied in a soft murmur. “But it hurts me when you don’t listen to me. I never try to push you too hard or stop you from doing what you love to do,” her lips curved into a small smile. “And it makes me so happy to watch you play baseball. Because you just look so… peaceful. You look happy. Even if you do look funny running the bases.”

 Steve snorted at this, turning his head to the side to face her. “For awhile there, you weren’t happy,” she could feel her voice begin to crack, more tears glossing her vision, her voice thick with emotion. “I know you weren’t happy back in Hawkins,” she continued. “Just like you know I used to not be happy back then either.”

 Steve sniffed, his eyes dropping to her fingers where they rested in her lap, and he watched as she leaned closer towards him, her fingers finding his. He shuddered when their skin met, already melting into her touch, squeezing her fingers tighter when they laced together with his. His molars sunk down into the flesh of the inside of his cheek, trying to maintain his own composure. 

 “But Hawkins is home to me,” she murmured. “Hawkins is where our story began. It’s where we both grew up, it’s where we found each other. And I’ll always be grateful to Hawkins for that.”

 Steve let his fleeting gaze linger on their hands for a moment before her other hand pushed against his chin, leading his eyes back home, back to her. “Even with everything we went through there, we made so many memories,” she chuckled. “Like the first time you took me on a date and you pulled up to my house and my dad…”

 Steve’s lips curved into a smile and parted in a laugh, “he grilled me.” She laughed along, nodding. “I still remember how nervous you were to even hold hands with me, like my dad was waiting around the corner or something.”

 “He can be really intimidating.”

 “No shit,” she chuckled, leaning the side of her head into the passenger seat’s headrest. “And I remember our first kiss…” 

 Steve let the pad of his thumb soothe over the smooth skin on the back of her hand as he recalled the memory, the image of her standing in front of him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes he fell in love with, wearing that ridiculously pretty baby blue dress he still secretly wished she would wear more often. He could remember how nervous he was, how he felt like his heart was going to either burst out of his chest or he was going to shit it out. He remembered wondering how a girl so perfect could ever want to be with him, how insecure he felt about himself, whether or not he was a shitty boyfriend. 

 All of it melted away when she fluttered her eyes closed and began to lean in and he, too, began to fall in closer…

 “Yeah,” Steve sighed his reply, and she smiled warmly. “So you see now why I want to go back so bad?” She asked. “Hawkins was where our story started. Hawkins will always be home to me.”

 Steve drew in a deep breath and nodded, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah,” he said. “But I still don’t know what to do about Boston.”

 She glanced down to their joined hands, her free hand soothing up and down his arm. When she looked back up, Steve’s face was contorted in thought, eyebrows knit together, eyes unfocused and lips pressed together. She gave his hand a squeeze, “do you want to go to Boston?”

 He blinked and peered over at her where she sat, waiting for a reply. Her face was void of all frustration from before, expression warm, inviting. How could he have ever taken her for granted?

 Steve gave a short nod, “I think so.” 

 Her lips grew into a grin, “then we’re going to Boston.”

 Steve’s face softened but a wrinkle in his brow still remained. “And you’re… okay with that?” He asked, and she nodded. “As long as we can do things I want too. I just want to dedicate some off time to going back home. I want to see everybody. I miss all our friends. I miss my dad.”

 Steve nodded, giving her hand a squeeze, “okay.”

 She nodded back and pushed herself from her sitting position, leaning over the console until their faces were close, their lips a whisper away from one another. “Okay,” she whispered against his lips and Steve gazed up at her, his deep, brown irises melting into hers. His gaze fleeted down to her lips as he reached a hand around to cup the back of her head, pulling her mouth down onto his. 

 His lips were soft and she melted into them as if they were a pillow. Steve kissed her with an urgent, tender need, like his tongue was telling her a million sorrys he couldn’t relay in words. She moaned into his mouth when he squeezed her hip with the hand not tangled in her hair and she climbed her way over the console and onto his lap, her hands on either of his cheeks, the firestorm on her skin erupting into a volcano, hot magma pouring over her and pooling onto him. 

 His kisses trailed down her chin to the underside of her jaw, her fingers inching their way to his hair, giving the roots a tug when he sucked a mark there. Her lips fell apart in a gasp at the feeling of his teeth ghosting over her flesh, teasing a bite on the sensitive part of her neck. “Steve,” she mewled as his hands felt up her waist, to her stomach, and around to the buttons of her jersey. 

 “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured against her lips when his kisses found their way back to her mouth, his fingers working at the buttons of her jersey. “I’m an asshole,” he mumbled as he pushed her now fully opened shirt down her arms, his mouth hot when they found her one of her erect nipples and she threw her head back, squeezing the roots of his tendrils tighter. 

 “Mm mm,” she shook her head as he swirled his tongue around her peaked bud, staring up at her through a hooded gaze as he sucked. “You’re… not!” She arched her back and moaned when he released her breast with a pop, trailing kisses between the valley of her tits to ravage the other. “Not an… asshole.”

 His smile was a crescent against her skin as he worked at the other and she pressed her lips together in a whimper, feeling heat pool between her legs, her core clenching when she ground her hips down into his erection. “Stevie,” she panted when he released her breast, kissing her collarbone until he could make out dark marks in her skin. “Hmm?” He hummed against her flesh, glancing up at her. 

 She ground her hips down into him once again, causing him to groan and buck his own up into her. She gasped at this, feeling tears sting her eyes before streaming down her cheeks. “I just… I just wanna feel you,” she managed to breathe out, her teeth pinching her bottom lip hard enough that she nearly drew blood. “Just want you inside me.”

 Steve probably could’ve come from just her voice alone. His cock was aching and throbbing in his sweats and he tapped the underside of her thighs to tell her to sit up. She mewled as she rose off his lap, allowing them both to strip themselves from their pants and underwear. 

 Their eyes surged into one another as Steve’s middle and pointer finger traced a line down her center, his palm flush with her clit, her lids fluttering closed and a cry erupting from her throat and permeating the small space of his car. “You’re dripping for me, baby,” Steve purred, using his other hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, the pad of his thumb soothing over her closed eyelids. “You always get so wet for me,” he praised, drawing her face closer to his to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. “You’re always such a good girl for me. Always make me so proud.”

 “Stevie,” she mewled, voice dripping with need from his words. His fingers still worked back and forth over her slit, the tips teasing her clit and every so often, her entrance. “Yeah baby?” He cooed, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against the underside of her jaw. She whimpered again, “just need you inside. Please.”

 Neither of them could care any less that anyone could easily be watching them right now, all they cared about was each other. All Steve wanted to do right now was take care of his girl, to make sure she felt wanted, needed, heard. 

 So he wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the base of his cock, hissing between his teeth at the sight of her cunt just dripping, aching to be filled. He gazed back up at her and reached for her face, cupping her cheek with one hand and kneading the flesh of her hip with the other. “Look at me,” he whispered, waiting until her eyelids fluttered back open and he could stare into his gorgeous irises of hers. “You ready?” He asked with a little nod, and when she nodded back almost immediately, he guided her down into his lap with the hand on her hip, his lips falling agape, a deep, guttural groan bellowing from his throat. 

 She cried as he slowly pushed himself all the way in until she was fully seated in his lap, crystals of tears resting on her eyelashes. Even after all these years, she couldn’t believe how big he was, how every inch seemed to fill her up in the most perfect way, leaving no part of her untouched. 

 And Steve couldn’t believe how tight she still was. She always squeezed him in just the right way, her pussy always seeming eager to milk him, and he always seemed to be near spent even when they had just started. 

 “Ready to move?” He murmured close to her ear and she nodded, lifting her hips gently before setting her pace, either of his hands now on her waist, guiding her up and down his cock. The windows had since fogged up, the lights outside nothing more than white and orange dots, like watercolors. She managed to peel her eyes open enough to peer down at him, her lips finding his, their moans muffled against each other. 

 “I love you,” Steve purred against her mouth, his breath hot and making liquid of her insides. She felt her heart skip a beat when he said this, as if it were the first time she’d ever heard him say it. It was like this with everything with Steve. He made every touch, every kiss, every ‘I love you,’ every everything feel like the first time. 

 And that’s what she loved most about him. 

 “I…” she gasped at a particular deep thrust, rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks. “…oh God! I love you too!”

 Her palms ventured down the chest of his t-shirt until they reached the hem, tugging at it to signal that she wanted it off. Steve wasted no time in reaching down to pull it up and over his head, her hips still rocking back and forth on his cock as he discarded it somewhere behind him, his hands cupping either of her elbows and drawing her mouth back onto his. 

 She was so dangerously close to the edge, Steve was so dangerously close to the edge. It was enough to make her cry out, to wrap her arms around Steve’s head and hug him close to her chest. “Gonna… fuck! Gonna come baby?” Steve groaned as he thrusted up into her, meeting her hips in rhythm with her rocking. She nodded, unable to speak as a spark trailed down her stomach until it erupted in flame at her center, white light flashing behind her eyelids as she exploded, a blissful heat ripping through her. 

 Steve’s hands cradled the small of her back as she struggled to catch her breath, letting him pound her through her orgasm until he too let himself go, spurts of his seed spilling somewhere deep inside her, painting her cervix like it was his canvas. 

 He held her tighter as she trembled, panting and chasing air back into her lungs, aftershocks rumbling through her as he slowed his hips before pulling out altogether, making sure his hands were there to catch her before she fell. 

 His palm cracked the back of her head to his chest, their pants slowly dwindling down to soft breaths, their skin melting into each other until they became one. His thumb soothed over her shoulder blade, his other arm wrapped around her waist, ensuring neither he nor she were going anywhere. 

 “I’ve got you,” he whispered close to her ear, his breath hot as it rolled over her skin. “And I’m sorry. I promise I’ll hear you out from now on. You shouldn’t feel like you’re being silenced around me.”

 He could feel her smile against the curve of his shoulder, her lips pressing a soft kiss to his skin. His lips curled into their own smile. “Thank you,” she murmured against his flesh. “Can we just stay here like this for a minute?”

 He hummed into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Mhm,” he hummed, resting his cheek against their head and letting his eyelids flutter closed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

a/n; i have literally been wanting to write an mlb player steve au for the longest time and i just never have gotten around to it 😭 i'm not sure if any of you know this, but i used to play softball, started playing when i was 8 years old all the way up until my senior year of high school, so softball/baseball has pretty much always been a big part of my life and LAWD can you just imagine steve as a major leaguer 😍 anyways, its been awhile since i've posted anything steve related and i'm so sorry for that! but i hope you all enjoy this one! it turned out to be a lot longer than i initially expected it to lol (ps, i definitely wouldn’t mind writing more for major leaguer steve in the future 👀)

TAGLIST

@thesilentshape @oliviajdjarin 🫶

[blorbo-gerrymandering]

Round 4

Propaganda Under The Cut

Buneary:

Buneary is an adorable adorable bunny that hates you the minute you catch it. It is the only pokemon other than legendaries that has a base friendship of 0. In one of the more recent pokemon games, you can catch a buneary (typically a tiny bunny) that is larger than your player character. I love the pokemon buneary.

bunearies are. adorable. and full of hate. If you don’t vote for buneary then I will not have to do anything to you because buneary can and will beat you up. don’t test her she can jump over a building and kick you in the face if you look at her wrong. vote buneary.

My mutual loves the pokemon buneary very much :)

buneary is cool and deserves to win a tournament

Jaylen Hotdogfingers:

The greatest came-back-wrong character ever. She's the mayor of Seattle. She's was the best pitcher in the league. She was murdered by an umpire in an act of divine retribution for the fanbase's transgression. The fanbase exploited game mechanics to bring her back to life. Immediately she murdered 12 people. She died again and got revived a second time as part of a team of undead players that killed god. She's a really awful batter. She has, like, 16 songs written about her and they're all really good. I thought about her every single day for a period of six consecutive months. I love her.

I'll be real. I'm an outsider to the Blaseball fandom. I don't understand it. I think they've crowdfunded characters from fictionalized fucked-up Baseball stats and a dream. I love seeing what the fuck they're doing in their eldritch sandbox just so much.

[tiredfox64]

Hi! I hope you are having a good day/evening! 🤩

If it's okay with you, I'd like to see a Shang Tsung (MK11 or Titan! Shang) x afab!powerful! reader fic. I was thinking of a character who is kind to friends, so much so that she seems harmless, but lethal to enemies 💚🐍

I ask you to imagine their first meeting and how things might evolve from there, trying to avoid the non-con as much as possible (I don't feel comfortable with it 😢)

Give vent to your imagination! 😍

Beauty Like A Butterfly, Pain Like a Wasp

Yip notes: Ugh we love gorgeous gorgeous men with a very petty attitude.

Pairing: Shang Tsung (MK11) x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: None...WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

Could a creature ever be friendly but also deadly? Shang Tsung believed something like that was impossible. Perhaps a dog fits the criteria but never a person. He truly means friendly and kind. Not humble and peaceful like Liu Kang would portray. Someone who will make people smile with no ill will. Someone who draws people in with their aura and demeanor. But alas, he has never once found a person like that.

That was until Shang Tsung set his eyes on you.

You were as graceful and bloodthirsty as a butterfly. As kind and cuddly as a bumble bee with a wasp’s wrath. He has only seen such beauty in Sonya Blade, but never the same warm aura that you radiated. He believed your friendliness was a façade or a trick just like he would portray. But that mask never slipped off during the time you and him spent together.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Shang Tsung’s first encounter with you was unforgettable because of how unexpected it was.

He journeyed through realms trying to find souls that might be a great addition to his collections. He hoped to find someone worthy to either trick into being his pawn or feasting upon their souls But all he could find were regular beings who had nothing extraordinary about them. Sure, some people looked like they had amazing strength but it was nothing compared to Goro or Kintaro. There was definitely nobody around who seemed to wield any magic. No one stood out just yet. He needed to wait. His patience would be rewarded.

You stood not too far away. You were among your friends, laughing and making them smile whenever you gained the chance. To them, you were the equivalent of an angel. You were the sweetest thing the gods could have given the world with your friendly demeanor and ability to make anyone your friend. The emo girl who usually sits alone is as much your friend as the guy who keeps going to jail for things he “supposedly” did. That’s the kind of person you are.

However, not everything about you is on the surface. Secrets lie even in honest and sincere people. They may not seem like secrets to you but to others, they believe they are since it’s a shock to them. This secret of yours will be revealed to Shang Tsung. Would you like some Netherrealm demons to help bring it out? They will show up in about 5…4…3…

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!”

…now.

You swiftly turned around and heard the ground crumble as many hands started clawing their way out. Soon, horns of many shapes and sizes emerged from this burning hole. There should be no reason for demons to emerge in the streets. But creatures from Netherrealm don’t play nice. If they want to invade a realm so badly they would. And right now they want to bring hell upon your home.

Fuck that noise.

You pushed your friends in a certain direction and told them to run without looking back. You watched as people ran around with these demons roaring and growling like the ferocious beasts they were. A switch flipped inside of you and that bright, cheerful attitude turned into one of aggression and hostility. Shang Tsung was not too far from the spectacle he was about to witness.

You bent down to grab a rock, no bigger than the palm of your hand. You observed it to make sure it would be stable enough for what you were about to do next. You reeled back like a baseball player while keeping your eye on the demon with the biggest horns.

The sound of meat being squished was heard as the demon fell to the ground, a hole blown through its head. The bits of rock went flying before landing in the puddle of blood that came seeping out.

This was…unexpected to say the least. Shang Tsung was not ready for that. He wondered if he blinked at the wrong time and missed what you did. Taking in context clues, he was able to determine what happened. You chucked that rock at Mach speeds and killed the demon on impact. The demon was dead in a matter of a millisecond. When he looked back up he saw you gesture to the rest of the pack to come at you. You were ready to eliminate the rest of them.

Shang Tsung kept a close eye on your display of ferociousness. These demons, who were much larger and were more muscular than you, were falling like flies. Hearts being ripped from chests, horns being used as weapons, skulls being smashed in, oh the blood bath was endless. Shang Tsung didn’t realize he was smiling at the performance in front of him. Even as you grew tired from the amount of demons you were dealing with he was delighted by the effort you were putting in. You were a rodeo bull who did not back down, you wanted to knock that rider off.

He felt like being nice that day so he decided to use his sorcery to help you out. You watched some of the demons burst into flames or being kicked down into pits of fire. You had no clue what was happening until Shang Tsung came into view. He moved fluently as he dodged everything the demons threw at him. Soon the pack of demons were nothing but corpses on the ground. Shang Tsung finished the job by opening a portal and sending the remains back to the Netherrealm. You stared in astonishment. You had no clue what just happened. All you knew was that this man near you was not normal.

“Uh thanks, stranger. I’m not sure what you did but it sure helped finish the job.” You tried your best to not sound confused since you thought it would be rude.

“That, my dear, was sorcery. It is clear to me that you do not need sorcery since you seem like a competent fighter. I watched you from the beginning and I must say, your performance was deliciously cold-blooded.” He spoke to you with a hypnotic voice that was luring you in ever so carefully as he circled you.

“Uhm, thanks?” You weren’t sure if you wanted to take that as a compliment.

He let out an amused chuckle at your confusion and possible innocence. He already sensed you were not someone faking their goodness like Sindel would do. You were clueless and that can be seen as cute at times. He stopped circling you like a vulture ready for prey to die and walked up to you.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Shang Tsung,” He took your hand and kissed the back of it. “May I ask who you may be?”

Both of you were hooked on each other for one reason or another. You gladly told Shang Tsung who you were. You saw this as a possibly interesting friendship if Shang Tsung would allow it. Will he actually be your friend or will he use you as a stepping stool to his supposed destiny?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

What have you done to this man? How can he be weakened like this?

Originally, Shang Tsung thought he would use you as another obedient subject that he could use as leverage to get his way. If he could trick Shao Kahn and Sindel, he could easily trick you as well. You would never view him as just a dog that had to listen to his master.

But that was the problem. You didn’t view him as anything negative.

Perhaps it was because he never involved you in his schemes to get Kronika’s crown or spoke about his distaste for certain people. Whatever it was that made you see him in a good light, he couldn’t believe it. All those who “trusted” him knew of his deceptive nature or they fully believed he would aid them all the way in their malicious plans. They were fools and risk-takers. He believed you were one of them until he started realizing the differences you portrayed.

You never asked for assistance on anything even if his sorcery could help. You trusted him fully without much thought of possible deception. If you weren’t acting like the others why are you still here?

Because he was your friend in your eyes. You gave him attention. You showed interest in his sorcery. Even when you two would spar you never got sore about losing. He was sore though after enduring millions of punches from you. He should never forget how powerful you are.

One of the moments that Shang Tsung thought about a lot was the first time he brought you to his island. He showed you his many treasures and special artifacts that he stored on the island. Many items caught your eye such as gold, jewels, and shiny stones. Something told him to test you and see how much you would take. You could take what you wanted, within reason of course. However, your words caught him off guard.

“Isn’t this yours? Why would I take it?”

You stumped him. He was silent as he looked at you with his eyebrows raised. He let out a little ‘hm’ before walking off. You caught up to him, wondering if you made the wrong decision. You actually made a decision he never knew was an option. He knew at that moment that you were just a friendly person. During the rest of the time on the island, you never took a piece of jewelry or a gold coin and pocketed it. You entered the island and left the island with the same items in your pockets.

You had cast an imaginary spell on Shang Tsung. A spell he could never do but you did it without effort. His image of you changed. You were no fool or a pawn. You weren’t a useless subject that he couldn’t use. You were just a woman who gave people chances. That must be why Shang Tsung began to fancy you.

He would invite you to his island multiple times, growing upset occasionally when you had to decline for something reasonable. He would even allow your friends to join you just so he could have a chance to be close to you. Of course, some areas were off-limits. Nobody should find out about the flesh pits.

This would result in your friends teasing you to no end. They would ask you why you haven't made him your rich boyfriend already. He has a freaking island and treasures. But you always told them you were fine with being friends with him, much to his dismay. You’re not blind though, you’ve seen how Shang Tsung’s attitude towards you has been changing. From his choice of words down to his tone, he has become more flirtatious and alluring. He wanted to give you many gifts and spend more time with you. It didn’t even matter if you were sweeping his feet with a kick or listening to him talk about a new trick he could pull off with his sorcery, he wanted you close.

This is ridiculous. He is acting like a coward. It’s time to be bold and officially make you his.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Another visit to his island, what will you two do?

Shang Tsung surprised you with a dress the moment you walked into his throne room. The dress was gorgeous. It matched your preferred style and was in your favorite color. This was your dream dress that you never knew you needed.

“I had this dress made just for you. It was sewn by the finest designers in Outworld. I think you should try it on.” He laid the dress across your arms.

The material was soft velvet with the inside being smooth silk. The textures were comfortable for you. You smiled widely before running out of the room to try on the dress. After about five minutes he heard the door open. You walked in slowly as you looked down at how the dress hugged your body. You looked up at Shang Tsung with that same wide smile being present on your face.

“I think it looks perfect on me. What do you think?” You asked.

He walked closer to you, his eyes taking in your natural beauty. His heart beat harder against his chest in a way he had never felt before. It was a mixture of attraction, excitement, and possibly…love. He can’t say for certain since love is foreign to him. He is only going off of the fact that you are the only one who has made him feel this way.

“Such beauty…” He whispered, “It is so rare, yet I was lucky enough to find it.”

He took your hand into his. The cold metal of his clawed glove grazed over your delicate skin before he brought your hand up to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand just like the first time you two met except this was different. This was not a formal introduction but a display of his interest in you. Even when the kiss was done he didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t mind at all. It made you feel warm in your cheeks and tingly in your heart.

Your eyes stared into his. You never realize the light that began to show in his dark eyes. Even in the moonlight, they seemed to shimmer at the sight of you. If you knew who he was before you met him you would realize there was no cocky tone in his smile. There was no hint of judgment or aggression with the way his eyebrows were positioned. He does not look down on you. You are as equal as him.

You will be as powerful as him once he creates his New Era. Everyone else will be his subjects that he will use to conquer the realms. But not you. Never you. He would not dare change a thing about you. You are perfect the way you are. You will be his perfect wife who will rule all the realms by his side. Whatever you want will be yours.

Still gotta make her your girlfriend, genius.

“We should put that dress to good use. What do you say?” He suggested.

“Wait, was this your way of asking me out on a date?” You asked in a playful tone.

“Perhaps it was. That is up to you, my dear.”

“You are a tricky man, Shang Tsung. But you are also very charming. I think a date would be a wonderful idea.”

Alright, now the cocky and smug smirk has come back. You know how to get him started. He loves some good praise.

“Excellent choice. I will make sure you will never regret this.”

Yap notes: I'm going to eat his flesh. Adiós!

[atlafan]

“You’re not the third base coach, you know?” Layna teased Harry. “Well, you could coach people on third base, but that would be an adults only thing.”

“We have been to every single one of your nephew’s little league games this season. This is a big game, I’m paying atten-that was a ball, ump!”

“You’re going to embarrass him.”

“Plenty of other parents are-good eye, Joshy! It wouldn’t kill you to show your support.”

“Alright.” Layna clears her throat. “Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow…” the other players on the bench start singing along, and Harry rolls his eyes. “Did you even play sports growing up?”

“Of course I did.” Harry scoffs. “I played soccer, baseball, and I ran cross country.”

“Ooohh, a jock.”

“I wouldn’t put myself in that category. I didn’t do well in my classes, so I let myself be a good athlete. Oh, that call was bullshit. That’s a ball!”

Josh frowns as he comes back over to the bench, pulling his helmet off. Harry goes right over to him, and takes a knee to be at eye level.

“Hey, don’t let it get to you.” He assures the young boy. “That umpire needs better glasses. He probably knows the coach on the other team. You did great up there.”

“I should have swung. Grandpa always says to go down swinging.” Josh pouts.

“Next time you’re up to bat you can do that. Shake it off, yeah? No matter what, Auntie Layna and I are taking you for pizza and ice cream afterwards.”

“No way?! Just us three?”

“Just us three.”

“Cool!” Josh heads over to his coach and his teammates, feeling much better about his strikeout.

Harry makes his way back over to Layna and puts his arm around her shoulders. She looks up at him, grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She giggles and buries her face in his chest. Harry laughs softly and curls his finger under Layna’s chin so she’ll look up at him. He shuffles them over to the side of the bleachers so they’re not front and center in everyone’s view. “It’s nothing.”

“Just tell me. Make fun of me for being like a baseball dad.”

“I wasn’t going to. I got that out of my system before.” She bites her bottom lip as she looks up at him. “You’re really part of the family.”

“I like your family. Well, not so much your parents, they’re in sane. But your brother’s kids are cool.”

“They love you.”

“I like being involved. I should volunteer next season.”

“It would take you an hour to get out of the city every day to make it here in time.”

“Meh.” He shrugs. “The coaches clearly aren’t teaching them fundamentals. They’re not boosting their confidence.” Layna giggles into his chest again. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Her arms a wrap around his neck. “I just love you.”

“I love you too. Now tell me why you’re giggling. I’m obviously doing something.”

“I was just thinking…you’re going to be a great dad someday, and I really hope it’s to my children.”

“Who else’s father would I be?”

“I don’t know. You could decide you don’t like me anymore.”

“Not possible.” He looks around before sneaking a kiss. “Let’s go have sex in the car.”

“Harry!” She squeals. “We can’t.”

“Obviously not here, we’ll drive somewhere.”

“We can’t just leave. We promised pizza and ice cream.”

“You can’t just bring up wanting me to be the father of your kids and not let me do something about it.” He pinches her hip. “That’s a paddlin’.”

“Noooo, don’t be mean to me, daddy.”

“Now you’re really gonna get it.”

“After pizza and ice cream, I’ll let you fuck me in the car before we drive home.”

“And then?”

“And then you can fuck me all night long and make the bed shake and I’ll be a good girl and take everything you give me and thank you for it.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He grins wickedly. “Consider the paddlin’ rescinded.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

No Complaints Blurb

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 3)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.4k words

Warnings: Language, fingering, oral (M receiving), unprotected sex, the start of some serious pining

Thanks as always to @agentstarkid ❤️❤️❤️

Series Masterlist

The entire ride to Leeds, Roy was silent. That wasn’t too unusual; he was never one to join in on the singing and chattering, even when he was a player. But today he pressed his head against the window and thought of nothing but a certain gorgeous racer.

Two weeks had passed since your two trysts at Silverstone, and Roy’s mind had been almost constantly occupied with images of you: throwing your head back as he devoured you, writhing beneath him, grinding on his lap, smiling at him in your racing suit, or being doused in champagne. There was also the image that kept coming back no matter how hard he tried to focus on work: you, lying in bed beside him when he woke up that Monday morning.

As promised, as soon as you were awake your mouth was around his already hard cock. After you’d swallowed everything he gave you, the two of you laid in bed for a bit, his arm lazily around your shoulder, chatting absently about upcoming matches and races and how you both thought those things would go; he was impressed with how much you knew about Richmond, and you were touched by his knowledge of your racing.

When his phone started buzzing with messages from Jamie, asking for the keys to his car so they could start getting ready to leave, he had reluctantly said goodbye to you, pressing a harsh kiss to your still swollen lips. His chest was tight the entire walk back to his room, where he only answered Jamie’s questions and knowing looks with grunts and mumblings of “Fuck off.”

And for two weeks, that tightness had made a permanent home in his chest.

It was still there as he walked down the halls at Elland Road, trying to focus on the upcoming match as he headed to the visitors changing room. He was being stupid; he should appreciate that he got to sleep with you, his absolute fantasy woman, and move the fuck on. Most guys would kill to hook up with you once; he’d gotten to be in your bed twice. He was a lucky man. He shouldn’t feel this fucking miserable.

“Holy shit, is that the Roy Kent? He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where!”

Roy froze. He knew that voice; he fantasized about that voice.

When he turned around, his mouth went completely dry. Looking fucking adorable in a Greyhounds sweatshirt and a Ferrari baseball cap, you stood in the middle of the hallway, arms crossed, grinning smugly at him. Although you looked impossibly cool, your heart was pounding wildly as you gazed at him, gorgeous as ever in his trackpants and Richmond shirt.

You both took a few tentative steps towards each other, closing the gap between you. You clasped your hands together as you looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face; there was definitely confusion and surprise there, but maybe a hint of delight too. There was certainly some lust in his eyes; that was something you could spot easily.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Fuck are you doing here?” The words alone sounded harsh, but when he said it with those bewildered eyes, in that soft, raspy voice, it sounded almost… hopeful.

“Keeley invited me,” you explained, wondering if he could see how white your knuckles were as you squeezed your hands together in an effort to avoid squeezing your thighs instead; you really enjoyed these trackpants and the way they hugged your favorite parts of him. “Woud’ve given you a heads up, but…” When he’d left your hotel room, neither of you had offered up your phone number; you hadn’t wanted to look like you were hoping for anything serious. He hadn’t wanted to appear overly eager.

You’d both left that weekend with a nagging feeling of disappointment.

He nodded, seeming to understand your meaning. “Well, it’s nice. Having you here.” The corner of his kissable mouth tugged upwards. “Maybe you’ll bring us luck, Empress.”

“I’ll do my best,” you hummed, your heart fluttering at the flirty tone in his voice. For a moment, you considered offering to “celebrate” the way you had in Silverstone, but that fretful voice in the back of your head, the one that was convinced he couldn’t possibly be interested in another hookup, stopped you.

He glanced at his watch. “Should get going,” he mumbled. He paused, giving no indication that he was in any hurry to walk away from you. “We usually go out after the match. As a team. You should come.”

Roy invited you to go out with the team. Never mind that Keeley had already done so; he didn’t need to know that. “Sounds great.” His invitation gave you enough nerve to brush your fingers against his. Electricity coursed through your body at the light touch. “Good luck out there, Coach.” You winked as you started to back away. “Not that you need it.” With a coy wave over your shoulder, you turned and walked away, confident that Roy Kent’s eyes were glued to your figure until you were out of sight.

~

A lot of the time Roy could forget his age when he talked to his players, especially his old teammates. Lots of joking and reminiscing, making him forget that he had ten and even twenty years on some of these fellas.

But as he watched these young, fit, handsome men flock to you, all smiles and cockiness as they chatted you up, Roy definitely felt his age. Fucking Granddad indeed.

“Alright there, Roy?” Jamie plopped down beside his coach, whose grasp on his drink was visibly tight. He followed Roy’s gaze across the restaurant the Greyhounds were at well past closing, his mouth forming a perfect O when he saw Dani Rojas making you laugh. “Ah. Don’t like the lads hitting up your girl, eh?”

“Not my fucking girl,” Roy growled, turning his attention to Jamie and wondering if he’d end up breaking this glass with his bare hand. “Barely fucking know her.”

Jamie nodded. “Right. Right. But you like her.” He shrugged at the glare Roy shot him. “I mean, you haven’t taken your eyes off her since we got here. Same at Silverstone.”

Before Roy could tell Jamie to fuck off, someone sat in the chair next to him. He immediately stiffened in more ways than one when he realized it was you and your soft smile.

“Good game, Coach,” you hummed, eyes only for Roy. “Looks like you were right about me bringing you luck.”

He wanted to say something clever, maybe even something flirtatious. But before he could remember how to talk, Richard, Jan, and Thierry sauntered over, affable and confident in a way that made Roy wish he’d just gone back to the hotel after the match.

“We have a little bet going,” Richard announced, confidence oozing charm in that stupid French way women tended to like.

Roy was too busy feeling like shit to notice that the polite smile you gave the guys was not the same coy smile you offered him.

“And what’s that?” you asked, humoring the athletes, wanting to get rid of them so you could see how much flirting you and Roy could get away with without Jamie Tartt noticing.

Thierry’s smirk was clearly one he practiced in the mirror each night. “If you had to go home with one of the Greyhounds,” he teased, “which one would it be?”

Oh fuck this. Roy sat up, ready to tell off his players, to scold them for being so impertinent and honestly really fucking pervy. Especially to someone they had just met- the fucking Empress no less. Was this really how Rebecca fucking Welton’s team treated a renowned female athlete? Richard had the excuse of being, well, French, but really? Fucking Thierry- no, that was actually what one might expect. Okay, so fucking Jan Maas. Roy could yell at Jan Maas.

But your chuckle interrupted his plans. “Ah. And I assume you each bet on yourselves?” You shook your head at their mischievous smirks. “Sorry, gents. Afraid you’re all going back to your hotel rooms alone. No offense, but none of you are quite my type.”

The brief disappointment on each of their faces gave Roy at least a little satisfaction. He should have known better; you didn’t need him to defend you. He’d seen the way you handled sexist interviewers often enough; of course you could deal with a few idiot footballers who’d been drinking a bit too much.

Jan Maas raised his eyebrow at you. “What is your type?”

You wondered if Roy could see the light blush on your cheeks.

“My type,” you repeated with a click of your tongue. “My type.” Your smile widened. “I guess I’d say not the type to go around asking women they’ve barely met to pick one of twenty-five men to hook up with.” The guys were so busy looking ashamed that they didn’t notice your fingertips under the table, barely grazing Roy’s thigh. “Mature. I like my guys more mature than that.”

Properly humbled, the men mumbled their apologies and wandered away, none of them quite able to look you in the eye. Withdrawing your hand from Roy’s leg, you turned back to him- and Jamie, who you’d both forgotten about.

“Sorry ‘bout them,” Roy mumbled. “Fucking idiots.”

You shrugged, letting your leg lightly brush his. “I’ve dealt with worse. Much worse. They were actually pretty tame compared with some things I’ve heard, believe it or not.”

“You handled yourself well,” Roy murmured, eyebrows raised, clearly impressed.

Jamie, whose eyes were darting back and forth between the two of you, cleared his throat. “Gonna go get another drink,” he announced, as if either of you cared. “Want anythin’?” He smiled to himself when you both absently shook your heads, obviously focused on each other.

With Jamie gone, you scooted closer, letting your leg press more firmly against Roy’s now. “Think I should head back to the hotel. Get some rest.” Your voice was low, only for Roy, as you batted your eyelashes. “Think you could walk me back? I don’t know the area well, and it’s pretty dark outside.”

Roy took the hint and downed the rest of his beer. “Honestly, I should be asking you to walk me back with the way you talked to Richard and them.” He stood, nodding towards the door. “Let’s go before fucking Will starts hitting on you or something.”

Ignoring the curious and even knowing glances, you followed Roy out of the restaurant, giving Keeley and Rebecca a small wave and ignoring the wink Rebecca shot you and the obscene gesture Keeley made. It didn’t take a genius to realize how hot you were for Roy Kent, and at this moment, you didn’t care who knew.

You and Roy strolled down the empty street, Roy’s hands stuffed harshly into his pockets; he knew that if he didn’t hide his hands, he’d be trying to hold yours like some fucking teenager. And, despite the fact that the two of you had had your mouths and hands all over each other a couple of times now, Roy felt awfully shy walking next to you. He stared straight ahead, trying to decide if he should invite you to his room or wait for you to invite him to yours.

“Sorry again about the guys,” he mumbled with a scowl. “They were fucking out of line.”

“Honestly, don’t worry about it,” you assured him. “Just make them run some extra laps or some shit.”

Roy snorted. “Oh, they’ll be running til they throw up everything they’ve ever eaten in their lives.”

The hotel was close enough that you really didn’t need Roy to walk you back; but you both knew what you were really after. Otherwise, the two of you wouldn’t be walking through the lobby so briskly and fighting hard to keep your hands off each other.

Without you having to ask, Roy got off of the elevator with you and followed you down the hall to your door; he leaned against the wall and shot you a suggestive look, a man clearly on a very horny mission.

“Don’t suppose you have another bottle of ridiculously expensive scotch in there?” His light tone did nothing to disguise his wicked intentions.

You held the keycard between your fingers, offering a coy shrug as you licked your lips. “I’m not sure. Maybe you could come in and help me look?”

The door had barely clicked shut behind you when Roy had your back pressed against it, his fingers digging into the exposed skin between your jeans and Richmond sweater. His eyes wandered boldly over your figure, letting out a soft groan that had you rubbing your thighs together.

“That sweater looks real fucking good on you,” he muttered, tugging at its hem. “But I bet it looks better on the floor.”

You grinned as you took off your Ferrari cap and tossed it onto a nearby dresser. “That’s so fucking cheesy,” you teased, acting like his words didn’t turn you on. “That the best you got?”

He started pulling at your sweatshirt. “Oh, you want the best I got?”

“Roy Kent, I want everything you’ve got.”

Not caring about slow seduction this time, the two of you sloppily helped each other strip down, throwing jeans and shirts and one black leather jacket into one pile on the floor, leaving you both in your underwear. Roy’s mouth found yours effortlessly, reminding you of exactly why you’d said yes to Keeley so quickly when she invited you to meet her and the team in Leeds. You’d spent each day since she sent that text thinking about exactly this: Roy’s hands exploring your body, leaving a burning path down your skin, your own hands digging into his curly hair, his mouth on yours as if it belonged there.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice managing to be gruffer than usual, thick with wanting.

Your hand ghosted over the more than obvious bulge that rubbed against you enticingly. “How ’bout I show you?”

Before he could answer, you were on your knees in front of him, eyeing him with a cheeky smirk. Keeping his gaze, you brought your lips to his thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses that had him letting out a shuddering breath. Fuck, his thighs were gorgeous. Thick, strong, covered in that dark hair, flexing under your tongue.

Without a second thought, you gently sunk your teeth into the muscle. You felt your whole body vibrate with pleasure when you saw the way he threw his head back with a surprised moan, your name spilling out of his mouth as naturally as a swear. Smiling against his skin, you pressed a languid kiss to the spot you’d bitten, gliding your tongue over the bitemark that you hoped would be there for a while, a reminder of you and your mouth.

Before Roy could make some cheeky comment, you pulled down his boxers, revealing the cock you’d been thinking of nonstop since Silverstone. Not caring if you looked desperate or needy, you wrapped your lips around him, your groans mingling with his. He tasted even better than you remembered as you swirled your tongue around his tip, savoring the taste of his precum. Your heart skipped a beat when his hands tangled in your hair, his tight grip prompting a whine from your full mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, eyes fluttering as he tried to keep them on the gorgeously filthy view below him. “You look like a fucking angel. A dirty fucking angel, mouth wrapped around my cock all pretty.”

His obscene praise had you humming around him. You gave him your biggest, prettiest eyes as you sucked, enjoying the view. His face was flushed, and his mouth was slacked as he watched you in awe, practically drooling. Both of you were taking mental pictures, already wondering about and hoping for next time.

Even though you could have stayed down there all night, round after round, feeling him throb in your mouth, Roy tugged your hair roughly. “Let’s get you on the fucking bed, gorgeous.”

He offered you his hand and helped you up, tugging you towards the bed that you’d been hoping to get him in. In the blink of an eye, you were on your back with Roy hovering over you, smirk on his handsome face as his slobber-covered tip nudged your clothed core.

“Look at you,” he growled, eyes dark and full of lust as he took in the sight of you beneath him, wriggling with anticipation. “Bet you’ve been waiting for this as long as I have. Bet you’ve been thinking all about Silverstone. Bet you’ve even touched yourself thinking about me.” He rolled his hips, his cock twitching at the moan you let out. “I know I’ve been touching myself and thinking of you,” he whispered in your ear.

You shivered and bucked your hips up into his. “Have you now?” you hummed, guiding one of his hands down to your soaked panties. “You must be awfully relaxed these days, then.”

He chuckled, remembering all the teasing and flirting from the night you met, and pressed an affectionate kiss to your lips as he slid your panties down your thighs, his rough fingers taking their time running down your skin. “Could do with some relaxing right about now.”

With that, he slid two fingers inside you, sighing as he felt you clench around him. Fuck he’d missed the way you felt, the way you sounded. For two weeks he’d been craving this wetness around his fingers, and now that he had you, he wasn’t wasting any time. He pumped in and out, swallowing your moans greedily.

“Roy,” you gasped as your back arched, “need you. Please.”

“Whatever the Empress wants,” he teased, ignoring how close he was to accidentally saying “my Empress”.

He withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt and brought them to his lips. “Fuck,” he groaned as he licked the tip of his middle finger. “Even better than I remember.” Wickedness flickered across his face. “Want a taste?”

With an obedience you didn’t recognize, you opened your mouth, accepting Roy’s digits between your lips and sucking them with almost as much enthusiasm as you’d shown his cock earlier.

“Good girl.”

Fuck. You weren’t sure what was hotter- Roy’s fingers in your mouth, the taste of yourself on your tongue, his dirty praise, or the feeling of his cock pressing against your soaking entrance.

He removed his fingers, biting his lip when he saw the string of drool attached to his digits. “Fucking hell.” He hungrily kissed your mouth, his tongue roughly grappling with yours to taste every bit of you that he could. As his mouth continued to attack yours, he lined himself up at your entrance and slowly buried himself in you.

“Fuck,” you groaned into his open mouth. “Fuck, Roy, fuck.”

Two weeks of fantasizing and touching yourself and foolishly wondering when you’d see him again was nothing compared to having Roy Kent’s cock throbbing inside you. It stretched you and filled you with the now familiar delicious burn.

“Missed this,” Roy grunted as he set a rough pace. “Missed you.”

Oh shit. The tenderness of his words had your pussy tightening around him, even tighter than the feeling in your chest that grew every time you saw him. With his scowls and his gruffness and his filthy mouth, with his soft eyes and tender smiles and gentle whispers, he was exactly the kind of guy a stupid girl could fall for.

Good thing you weren’t stupid.

You grabbed his biceps, digging in your nails hard enough to leave marks, and wrapped your legs around him to pull him deeper. Yeah, you’d heard the rumors about Roy Kent. All about his stamina and ability, all about the curve in his dick that you discovered didn’t exist. But none of the tabloid fodder did him justice. Especially because no trashy article ever mentioned the fiery gaze that left you a moaning mess in his arms.

He was rougher this time. More desperate, more eager. He’d been in bed with you twice now, didn’t know when his next chance with you would be- if he’d ever even get one- and he was determined to make this one count. So tonight he pounded into you, not caring about how loudly he grunted your name, hoping he’d leave you with some bruises and a hard time walking.

“Roy,” you gasped as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. “Oh fuck.”

His eyes sparkled. “Oh, we like that?” He hit that spot again, his cock twitching at the sound of your whine. “Again?”

Your desperate nod had him quickening his pace, wanting nothing more than to feel you come around his cock. He reached down between your sweaty bodies and began rubbing your clit, smirking as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed, kissing your forehead as you squirmed and moaned. “Fucking got you, gorgeous. Wanna see you come for me. Please.”

One more deep thrust to hit that perfect little spot, one more stroke to your clit, and you were gone. You bit down on Roy’s bottom lip, trying to keep from screaming as your vision went white. Your back arched sharply as your cunt tightened around him, desperate for nothing but Roy, Roy, Roy.

“That’s it,” you babbled, one of your hands tugging his curly hair. “There, right there.” You pressed a rough kiss to his mouth, not sure where your moans ended and his began. “Need you to come,” you begged. “Fucking come.”

He nodded, eyes wide and full of lust. “Just for you, gorgeous,” he mumbled. He pressed his sweat-covered forehead to yours as he gave one, two, three more thrusts before filling you up with his release. You gasped at the sensation, groaning as you felt it seeping out of you.

Roy gently collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his body. After a moment, he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and craving a second round. Maybe even a third round if Roy could be persuaded.

“You enjoy that?” he finally managed to grumble playfully as he caught his breath. “Because I had a fucking grand time.”

Your breathless laugh was music to his ears. “Yeah, you could say I enjoyed myself.” You kissed his lips, giggling into his mouth.

He smiled down at you, eyes tracing every little red mark he’d left on your skin. “Think I could spend the night?” he whispered as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“Not worried your team’ll catch you sneaking back to your room in the morning?” you teased, fully intent on keeping this man in your bed all night and as late as you could the next morning.

“Fuck ’em.” He tenderly kissed your nose. “They ask any fucking questions, they’ll be running laps all next practice.” He paused, eyes searching yours. “So, what d’you say? Or are you trying to kick me out of here already?”

You shook your head, not bothering to hide your delight. “You stay as long as you like, Kent.”

In the morning, you rolled onto your back and found Roy, still there, already awake and gazing down at you softly.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” you huffed, tilting your head to steal a small, surprisingly natural kiss. You wondered if he always looked like this in the morning: all soft and sleepy, his hair curlier and wilder than usual, corners of his mouth tugging upwards as his eyes gazed into yours. A tentative part of you wondered if you could wake up to this view again sometime.

Roy sat up a bit, tugging you up to lay your head on his furry chest. “Oi, can I see your phone?”

Confused, you reached over to the nightstand, where you’d managed to toss your mobile at some point in the night between shags. You unlocked it and handed it to him, feeling sparks when your fingers brushed. “What’re you doing?”

He tapped away before handing it back to you. “There. You have my number now. Do me a favor and give me a heads up when you’re coming to a match.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Almost had a fucking heart attack yesterday when I saw you.”

“Should I not come to Richmond matches anymore?” Your fake pout had his heart stuttering; he wondered if you could feel it.

“Fuck no. I’m glad you came.” Another kiss to your hair. “Should come again sometime.”

You chuckled and wrapped an arm around his torso. “You talking about football or sex?”

“How about both?”

Before you could make some flirty comment, a buzzing came from the pile of clothes that lay across the room. With a heaving sigh, Roy clambered out of bed and fished his phone out of his jacket pocket. You stifled a giggle at the sight of him wearing nothing but the boxers he’d managed to tug on before falling sleep. Unaware of the way you were staring, he threw his head back and groaned as his mobile vibrated again.

“Gotta fucking go,” he grumbled, digging his black jeans out of the pile of clothes. “One of those pricks fell asleep in the fucking hotel kitchen, so their fucking manager has to go apologize to the staff.”

“Oh.” You sat up as you watched him pull his pants on, his handsome face full of annoyance. Suddenly, you remembered what you were wearing: his black t-shirt. You started to tug it over your head. “Oh, Roy, your-”

“Keep it.” He shrugged his leather jacket over his bare torso, not seeming to care about showing off the hair on his exposed chest. He sat down on the bed next to you and began pulling on his shoes. “Give it back to me next time, alright?”

With that, he leaned close and planted a searing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your face with a heated mix of tenderness and desire, his mouth letting you know how much he wished he could stay. You knew this kiss would linger long after the door closed behind him.

“Next time,” you echoed against his mouth.

He nodded, smiling as he finally pulled back and stood. “Next time.”

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