#the slow start and the slow rise to the top

[angelsforthenight]

screen babe, mean babe, guess who’s gonna cream babe! (pt 2)

camgirl!vi x reader (read pt 1 here)

summary: after an abysmal night, you know who PinkSage really is. you want to loathe her, yet you can’t seem to escape vi’s agonising game, especially underneath the guttural heat of your city’s sun.

pre a/n: yaaawl if ur expecting smut in this chapter then i’m sorry but not yet 🙁🙁 i want to drag s.m.g out longer than i did with my last ellie series so you’re gonna have to wait until the next chapter. sometimes a slow burn can be so much better and worth it in the end, i promise! hope you guys still enjoy <3

content: AAAANGST, vi is really mean, very slight slut-shaming, cursing, crying, playful!vi, teasing! this entire chapter is a huge tease, vi is extroverted, difficult goddamn lesbians, some painful yearning, some cute moments, vi’s got one point up in this chap but we’ll see how that’ll go…

“i know who you are.”

your eyes persist in hers: as if trying to burrow yourself inside them and make yourself known.

vi, irritated as is, raises her brows and shakes her head; urging for you to elaborate. you have no idea where your boldness came from, but you find yourself continuing.

“PinkSage. y-you’re PinkSage, i watch you all the time i—“ vi’s face does a whole u-turn, the colour draining from her face.

“hold on, shut the fucking door first!” she hisses frantically. you flinch into obeying her. when you turn back around, your heart sinks at the disgusted look on vi’s face. maybe you hadn’t thought this one through.

“the fuck were you thinking? saying that shit whilst your parents are sleeping right there?” she whisper-scolds, storming towards you. you back away until you’re up against your door. yeah… what exactly were you thinking was going to happen? for your favourite cam-girl to immediately get on her knees and start eating you out? of course this moment hadn’t gone as you expected.

“huh? you just gonna stand there like a dumbass after revealing that shit? you of all people?” vi continues, her voice raising. she’s so enraged! as if it’s your fault that the woman you’re supposed to idolise happened to stay in your house. it’s only a fucked-up coincidence. your lips quiver as you find your voice.

“you— you’re being too loud.” are the only words that you can think of to say. vi stares at you in disbelief.

“… my parents are sleeping after all, right?” you mutter, looking away. vi is scowling so much she may as well pop a vein.

“hah. you’re a sick fucking freak.” she laughs dryly, shaking her head incredulously. though your gaze flicks up to her; bewildered and hurt, you’re not just going to let her talk down on you like this. not when what vi does is worse.

“you spread your legs for, like, a million pervs online. i don’t think you have the right to talk.” you snap whilst your voice trembles. here’s to thinking the world of PinkSage…

“pervs including your dull ass.” vi scoffs.

“watch your mouth, unless you’d like to sleep in the streets.”

“oh yeah? and what would you explain to your parents?” vi’s lips twitch into a grin, “mommy, daddy! kick vi out because i jerk off to her online but she’s being mean to me in real life!” she mocks, her voice lilting into a higher-pitched tone. your instinct is to push her in order to shut her mouth. vi only stumbles a little, but she glares at you as if you’ve thrown tomato juice all over her white top.

“fuck you.” you’re about to leave until something comes over you, feeling compelled to say one last thing. let her sit with this shit.

“and for your information, last time you streamed? you orgasmed to my name. your_user? yeah, that was me.”

you relish in the way vi’s expression mellows into one of astonishment. she’s dumbfounded and silent.

“sleep with that, bitch.” you spit, hastily slipping back to your room. you would’ve slammed the door if it wasn’t going to wake your parents up. your mother sleeps with one eye open and any noise would have her rising from her bed as if she’s a vampire.

once you make it back to your room, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. you’re trembling: entire body buzzing from head to toe with adrenaline and fury.

two steps closer to your bed and you feel a glob of tears swell in your throat, shooting up to your eyes. they are quick to rivulet down your cheeks like a torrent, and you intake a shuddering breath, coated with phlegm. afraid of vi hearing you next door, you immediately cover your mouth.

you jump into your bed, too arrogant to admit that the reason why you’re sobbing in your pillow is because you’re upset. you’re fucking pissed is what you are, embarrassed that you even said anything — and that vi had the gall to respond like that. whereas a week ago you would’ve praised PinkSage as if she were a saint, you’re sitting here wondering who the fuck this woman thinks she is.

of course famous people are dickheads in real life. you should’ve expected this. you fiercely wipe your tears, yanking your covers over your head. at least you were able to have the last word. you think about the look on her face, hoping she feels just as stupid as you do.

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it’s the morning that’s downright awful. you woke up too early, and now you’re forced out of your will to sit with your family and vi to eat breakfast.

your parents are trying so hard to impress her and you hate it. they’ve even gone the extra length of setting a table in your backyard, spread neatly over the stone ground. you don’t remember there being this much food in your house, let alone the gingham cloth fanned over the table. as if this breakfast is a special occasion. they must think vi is a goddamn prodigy! they find it to be groundbreaking how can she be oh so sweet volunteering for animals and taking care of them, and how she works out a lot and that tattoo on her face…

you chew your food slowly, glaring daggers at her as she compliments your mother’s cooking with her mouth full. meanwhile you would’ve gotten scolded for doing that! you’re being petty and stifling: insanely moody in this delicate summer morning. how could you not? you were in tears because of her audacity last night!

you bet if your parents found out what vi really does, your dad wouldn’t suggest playing basketball with her, and your mother wouldn’t be asking her all these stupid, prodding questions. ones like, “vi, do you have a boyfriend? o-or a girlfriend! if that’s what you prefer?”

you two make eye contact then. a split second, but it was palpable like an electric current zipping up your spine. you’re the first to look away; suddenly interested in swirling your fried egg around, smearing the yolk.

“nah. not interested in that stuff.” she replies dismissively, cool as a cucumber, because everything about her is cool! peachy! you prick your bacon with your fork hard, bringing it up to your lips as you flicker a glance at vi once more. since she’s not paying attention anymore, your eyes decide to fixate on the slope of her nose, shimmering from the light mixed with shadows that are dancing from the leaves above.

vi mutters something indignantly to your father, something you don’t hear because she suddenly steps on your foot under the table. hard. you accidentally let out a gasp that’s a little too loud, obliging everyone else to stop what they’re doing to glance up at you. they definitely forgot that you were even here. you glare at vi, who’s looking away as if she hadn’t just done that on purpose. are we suddenly little kids now? did she wake up completely overturned? ready to be an upbeat ray of sunshine after rudely shutting you down last night?

“everything okay?” dad raises a brow. vi only pretends to be curious, furrowing her brows and pouting, a faint jeering expression for your eyes only. what is she trying to play at? this isn’t just mere playfulness. this is something else.

“yeah, fine.” you murmur. you’re ready to push your chair back and leave until you hear your mother.

“oh, y/n can take you. she knows her way around the area better than any of us.” you freeze.

“what?” you brow quirks into a look of foul disdain. especially because vi looks like a grinning dog at your mother’s suggestion.

“you guys can even take the bikes!” dad chimes in enthusiastically. you want the skies above to open up and take you away. right here, right now.

“but—“

“i would love to go with you.” vi beams. that wretched look on her face, full of mischief and lies. the sun on her face isn’t exactly helping either. it’s all a cruel taunt: the way it kisses her face, the way it highlights her plush lips curved into that sweet, deceitful smile. she could be the sun herself… if she wasn’t so obnoxious. yet you find yourself relenting, giving a speck of yourself away to the woman who gets under your skin. you force yourself to stare at the wooden ridges of the table instead of the sunlight dancing on vi’s features.

“…fine. where to?”

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the lazy july sun is beating down on you mercilessly. vi’s wearing a baseball cap, but you? you were too pissed off and stubborn to listen to your mother’s advice on wearing a hat. so now you’re suffering.

you’re steering down the tree-lined dirt track with your bike. though it’s so damn hot, you really do appreciate the beauty that summer brings along: how everything appears so bright and awake. you won’t pretend that it can’t be suffocating however, especially when you have a certain pink-haired someone riding a bike behind you, distinctly aware of her eyes boring down your back.

vi slightly quickens so she’s right beside you, you side-eye her.

“who says that theres space for the both of us?” your words may as well have a double meaning. vi grins. there is actually enough space, you just don’t want her next to you.

“i did. you’re so sweaty you’re glowing by the way.”

“aw, thank you.” you sneer at her before picking up the pace.

“hey, wait! i was fucking around!” she chuckles, following you down the road.

you guys ride until you’re in the city: bustling with people and markets. mothers are dragging their screaming kids, men are oozing with sweat; grumbling as they push past people. you’re jealous of those passing by that are able to fan their faces. vi parks her bike, but you don’t.

“well, it has been lovely escorting you.” you mutter sarcastically, gripping the handlebars.

“what? you’re not staying? what makes you think i know my way around?” vi counters. she looks so puzzled, like a puppy. you swallow, seeming to crumble just a little more when you look at her face for too long.

“um, i didn’t know you wanted a tour… but fine.”

you two walk along the markets. vi has quite some time before she’s called in for work so she wanted to familiarise herself with the city beforehand. at first, you guys hardly talk, simply following vi as she wanders about instead: watching as her eyes glint at the vintage trinkets and antiques they sell in stalls.

you feel like a clamshell stalling quietly behind her, as she eagerly chats with quite literally anyone. she’s so extroverted! it’s begrudgingly interesting watching her communicate, her delivery of words smooth and clear, making anyone hang onto her words like rope.

there’s too many people in this narrow path, and too much pushing. you don’t want to lose yourself in the crowd, so you helplessly tug on vi’s sleeve. vi glances back.

“you good?” she keeps walking with you continuing to use her sleeve as leverage. it’d be a mess if you guys were to randomly stop now, with this sea of people that have clearly got places to be.

“yeah, i just don’t wanna lose you.” you reply, realising too late how weird that just sounded. vi, jovial as she already has been, only smiles wider. you quickly back-pedal.

“m-my parents would kill me if i were to lose our guest, you know?”

“here.” you all but expected for vi to lace her fingers into yours, holding your hand as you continue to slink through the masses of people. why is she being like this? was last night completely erased from her head, or does she just not care that much? you stare at the back of her head, as if that’ll give you answers. you secretly enjoy the warmth of her hand, subtly pressing your palm further into hers. vi doesn’t notice. good.

you guys find yourself in a music shop. this, after all the other markets and shops you’ve visited, finally has captured your keen interest. you come here all the time, the main source of all your cds in your room.

your eyes sparkle when your fingers stumble across one you’ve always wanted. limited edition, and it has a holographic cover too! how sick is that?

however, the excitement quickly fades when you remember that because you were stuck in your cloud of fitful anger, you ended up forgetting your wallet at home. you palm your pockets, making sure it miraculously doesn’t just so happen to be there… but nope. nothing.

“boo.” you feel the hotness of her mouth hard by your ear before you even register anything else. you squirm away, glowering at her only to be met with a cheeky smile back. vi’s already got a whole bag of stuff! how nice that must be.

“you gonna buy that?” vi points her gaze at the cd in your hands. you slot it back in the genre section. “i don’t have money, left it at home.” you mumble.

vi snorts, “you’re a real smart one, ain’t ya?”

“shut up. go pay for that and i’ll wait outside.” you grumble, practically storming out the door. you’ve never met anyone quite like vi. she’s so playful, and stupid and sweet, hot and mean all at the same time: getting under your skin in the worst way imaginable. the memory of PinkSage feels like it’s slipping from your fingers like sand.

vi comes back a moment later, smacking a cd down in your hands and walking ahead like nothing happened. you stare at her confusedly, but your eyebrows quickly rest in realisation as you gaze down at the cd. it’s the same one you wanted. your stomach betrays you by fluttering and then churning intensely.

“hey.” you call out, making vi stop.

“what’s your deal? why’d you buy this for me?” you grip the cd, heart beating like a live wire. vi turns around and walks closer to you. branches are singing from the breeze, seagulls are cawing, but you can’t hear anything. not when your full focus is on her. not when she’s walking so close it’s as if she’s going to step right through you.

“‘cause i saw how much you wanted it. you were gleaming.” she shrugs. how casual she must be, whilst your heart is pounding to the rhythm of her syllables. vi-o-let. why must you treat me this way?

“it’s no big deal.” she stares at you blankly up and down. you point your view downwards, focusing on the ladybug that’s started to crawl on your shoe. a kind respite from vi’s torturous gaze.

“why… why are you being so nice? after wh-what happened last night?” curse your sudden nervousness.

vi might as well close the gap between the pair of you, gentle fingers tilting your chin up to direct your gaze on her. oh, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

“because you’re my biggest fan.” vi stretches out her words, soft and punishing. this godforsaken woman… you could quite literally die on her feet. your brain short-circuits and then switches off. especially when you witness vi’s gaze flickering to your lips. your breathing quickens, and it feels like your body isn’t yours anymore. you may as well be a floating bubble.

until vi takes her hat off and puts it on your head instead, patting it. “come on, let’s skedaddle. you don’t think our bikes got stolen, do you?” she jogs ahead, whilst you stand here like a dumbass, the cd lying limply in your hands.

this is a brutal penance worser than last night. vi did that on purpose, to see your reaction, and now that she’s got her fill, she’s going back to pretending as if nothing happened. how unsparing. how cruel.

you force yourself to drag your feet, one feet after the other towards vi. your head is lagging behind, still stuck on her touch.

a/n: some of u might hate me for this 😅😅👅👅👅 but oh my god u guys are in a DOOZY for chapter three i’m literally trembling thinking about writing it ughhhfhdhhd once again lmk if u wanna be added to the taglist but also some of u guys need to check that ur mentions are on or else i can’t tag! :< anywhooo sorry that this chapter was a little shorter but did anyone else clock the cmbyn tea…

taglist: @marvelwomenarehot0 @ghgygd @jupitism @reneesub @cotrill09 @itzsky82 @elliesbabygirl @adora-moonshine @maxinephobia @ch3sire-blu3 @krilara @perrzs @thankynext @zaunite-516 @eren-luvr @cpt-prices-leftnipple @goticapomposa @lolitalovess @moonchildcovenxx @spicedcherrylolli @mystar-girl57 @mar1posita @avonnimimi @kirajess @caitvisgirl @heyy-lovey @antobooh @jajsnjz @beachaddict48 @aceywaycy @sleepingwasp @elliezlils11utt @vincinnamontoast @runawaybaby3 @h0n3yf0rlif3 @iluvwomensm

[sara-the-wizard]

I had another story about Leo DIEING after the invasion?!?!??!

(I tell ya, I make too many stories...)

Hello! I just found yet another rottmnt fan fiction I wrote about a year ago in my files! I'm gonna share it with you if that's okay!

Warnings! 💔

Tw implied death. Tw implied choking. Tw implied drowning. Tw Implied grave robber/robbing.

Story is under the cut! Hope you enjoy! 💙⬇️

{Fall and Rise}

Sirens wailed in the distance. The sky was stained. And three mutated turtles wept over one of their own. After hours of crying, they took Leo home, laid him in a bed, and placed the sheet over his head. They all stood in the living room, unsure of what to do next. Draxum comes forward and speaks.

"I created him. It is only right that I would bury him."

They all agreed. Knowing that none of them would have had the heart to prepare him for burial. Soon they all attended the funeral they had made for him. There were many tears that fell as the casket was lowered. As months passed. His whole family visited his grave until it was just Donnie. Donnie walked through the hidden city. (Leos grave was in the hidden city right outside of Draxums old lab.) Donnie bought some flowers from a vender. He practiced his speech as he made his way to Leos grave.

"Hey Nardo! I guess you know, today is our birthday! ... I know you can't get me a gift, but I brought you some flowers! And-"

Donnie cut himself off. He looked over at Leos grave in shock. He dropped the flowers on the ground. --- Donnie rushed home and burst into the room.

"He's gone!!" Donnie shouted in concern.

Everyone looked at Donnie with confusion and concern.

"What's wrong, Donnie?" Mikey asked.

"The grave, not there! Gone!" Donnie sputtered in a panic.

"Woah, Donnie. Slow down! Take it from the top."

Raph placed his hands onto Donnies shoulders.

"I went to Leos grave, but he's gone!" Donnie shook his hands.

"You mean Leo?" Raph creased his brow.

Donnie nodded his head.

"Leo's gone?!" Mikey jumped.

"Do you think it was grave robbers?" Raph shook his fist.

"How disgraceful!" Splinter huffed.

"Who would do such a thing?!" April held out her hands. --- Donnie busted the door open to an apartment.

"Draxum! Where is he?!" Donnie shouted.

Draxum sat on a couch sipping on some tea.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Draxum huffed.

"Leos grave is dug up and... Leo's gone!" Raph commented.

"We suspect it to have been grave robbers." Splinter insisted.

"Yeah! So you gotta help us find them and make'em tell us where-" April was cut off.

"It was me." Draxum said, casually sipping his tea.

Everyone was dumbfounded by his statement. "YOU?!?!" They shouted. Splinter growled.

"I've seen you do pretty low things, Draxum. But never have I thought you would stoop so low as to-" Splinters sentence was cut short.

"I know how I can bring your brother back to life. Correction, how WE can bring your brother back to life."

Draxum said while getting up from the couch.

"Come with me." Draxum said as he walked out the door. --- They walked through Draxums old lab. It was a bit messy. Some ruble still laying on the ground when the laboratory blew up.

"I never thought we'd be back here again." April whispered to Raph. Raph sighed.

"Draxum, where are you taking us?" Raph huffed. Somewhat impatient.

Draxum turned to look at the group behind him. He raised his hand and waved it over a secret panel. The wall started to glow with glowing magenta markings. The wall began to shift. It opened to them, revealing a secret tunnel. They walked down the dark and Erie passageway.

"This was where I did my more, "dangerous experiments"." Draxum cleared his throat.

"Draxum? What are you up to?" Splinter looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I have already told you." Draxum huffed.

Soon they made it to another wall. This wall too started to shift. When it opened, shock ran down everyone's faces. Leo floated lifeless in a tube of water. Many wires were attached to him in various places. An oxygen mask was put on over his mouth.

A few days ago:

Draxum dug up Leos grave with the help of his loyal gargoyles. After the gargoyles were done braking their backs, Draxum used his mystic tentacles to take Leo out of his little bed of eternal rest. Soon he brought Leo inside. There was this pattern drawn on the floor with chalk. Leo laid in the center. Draxum sat above him. And the gargoyles hovered around the bottom.

"Are you sure you trust us to do this, boss?" One of them said.

"I don't have much of a choice." Draxum sighed.

"You can count on us sir!" One snapped its finger.

"You won't regret it boss!" The other gave an optimistic air punch.

Draxum squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I'm already regretting this."

The gargoyles then started the memory spell. Draxum was sent into Leos memories. --- Suddenly Draxum appeared in the sewers. He watched as the four turtles floated down the stream on their tubes. Draxum raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, blue floating petals flew around him. Startled, He looked around to see where they came from. He followed the trail. Right when he's about to turn the corner. Something jumps at him from the darkness. Draxum raised his hand to block the incoming attack. It was Leos subconscious self. Pure black with glowing white eyes. Leo backed away and tried to hit him again, but Draxum blocked him.

"Move me to another memory!" Draxum shouted.

Suddenly, he was face down in the snow. He looked around and saw the turtles building a snowman. Then the blue petals flew by again. This time they carried a voice.

"I don't want to be alone!" The petals echoed.

Draxum widened his eyes. But before he could follow it, multiple shadows jumped down from the trees. Draxum looked up and quickly jumped away. Dodging most of the swings. Suddenly a sword grazed past his face, and he was knocked to the ground. He felt his cheek where the sword had hit, and looked up at the petals floating away.

"Please, don't forget me!" The petals continued to echo.

The realization knocked in like how that sword hit his head.

"Quickly! You must move me to-"

Then he appeared in a room. Mikey sat on a throne with Donnie and Leo waving palm leaves. Draxums eye twitched.

"What in the world have they been through?" Draxum thought to himself.

suddenly Draxum was free falling from the sky.

"No! I want you to-"

Draxum was then falling in a very long dirt tunnel. The turtles were riding their bike, complaining something about, 'Why does this pizza week have to be so hard?!'

"Ugh! I ment- oof!"

Draxum landed in a very dark place. There was a checkered floor. A single spotlight lit up. Draxum turned around to see what was there. Leo had his back turned away from him. He sat on the floor, cradling himself, repeating-

"I don't want to be alone! Please!"

The blue petals danced around Draxum and Leo. He walked up to Leo and stopped behind him.

"Leonardo?" Draxum called.

Leo didn't answer. Draxum then came around to the front of Leo and knelt down. He gently placed a hand onto Leos shoulder. Leos breath hitched. He slowly looked up to see who was touching him.

"Leonardo." Draxum said in return, as if he was addressing him.

"B-Barry?" Leos eyes began to tear up as whimpers escaped his lips. "Please, I wanna go back home!" Leo blubbered.

"That is why I'm here." Draxum said with a stern tone. --- Blue petals started to float around them. They swirled round the edges of the chalk circle. The gargoyles were a bit in a panic and surprise. This glowing blue orb started to form in the center, floating above them all. The gargoyles watched In aw. Just as all the petals found their places in this orb. The sphere then quickly started to drop.

"Uh oh! It's falling!" One of them said while waving his arms.

"It's gonna break!" The other said, pressing his hands onto his cheeks.

Just then, A magenta mystic tentacle grabbed the orb just when it was about to hit Leos chest. Draxum slowly brought it over to himself and placed it into his hands.

"Woah, what is it?" One of the gargoyles asked.

"It's his soul." Draxum replied.

Present day:

Leos soul is placed in a special spot just below Leos water tank.

"But the only way to get his soul back into his body, is with a lot of mystic energy." Draxum explained.

"So your saying, that you need our mystic energy to power your machine?" Mikey asked.

"Yes. But there is a chance it could take all your mystic energy, leaving you powerless." Draxum crossed his arms.

"Who cares! Let's do it!" Donnie stomped his foot.

"Woah, hold on a second Donnie. Did you not hear him? Our mystic abilities could be taken away!" Raph held his hands out.

"Raph! This is about our brother! This is about Leo!" Donnie stammered.

"I know! It's just..." Raph gestures with his hands.

"Fine if you're not going to do it, then I'll do it all by myself!" Donnie growled.

"That would be unwise. The amount of mystic energy required is much more than you can possibly handle alone. The decision must be unanimous!" Draxum commanded.

Everyone went to stand next to Donnie and looked at Raph, waiting for his answer. Raph closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then nodded with a sense of determination. --- Donnie looked down at the metal clasps around his wrists. He looked around to see his other brothers leaning on purple control boards with their wrist locked down tight. For a moment Donnie thought maybe this was a bad idea. Then he looked over at Leo in the tube and hardened his emotions.

"Okay, are you all ready?" Draxum turned to them.

They all nodded. "Yes!" "As ready as I'll ever be." "Let's do this!" "All set!" "Let her rip!"

Draxum then reached over and grabbed a lever.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. This might hurt a bit." Draxum hummed.

"Wait, what?- aaAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" Donnie screamed as the machine turned on and the terrible stinging sensation went through his whole body.

Everyone groaned and cried in pain. The energy traveled up the swirling lines and entered through Leos soul and into his body. Almost immediately, Leos body started to flinch. His eyes shot open with a blinding bright blue glow. Donnie painfully turned his head to look at Leo.

"Guys, guys! It's working!!" Donnie shouted.

They all looked up to see. Leo looked down at them with his glowing eyes. Leo slowly reached a hand out of concern for his brothers.

"C'mon Mad Dogs! Keep... going!" Raph strained.

Splinter looked up at Leo. Leos behavior was strange. He kept trying to take deep breaths but could never get enough air each time.

"... Something is wrong!" Splinter stated.

Suddenly a small alarm sounded.

"Error! Error!" The computer repeated.

"There's a malfunction in the oxygen system!" One of the gargoyles cried.

"Oxygen levels are at 27%!" The other said as it read a small panel.

"What!?" April squealed.

"How much longer till the procedure is completed?" Draxum demanded.

"Still 30% to go!" The gargoyles answered.

"There is not enough air! He is not going make it!" Splinter said with concern.

"We have to get him out of there!" April exclaimed.

"No! If we stop now, his soul will shatter from all the energy built up in it. Then there will be no chance of bringing him back!" Draxums voice thundered.

They looked at each other nervously. They continued to push harder and harder. Then suddenly, Mikey began crying.

"I... I can't take this much longer!" Mikey sobbed.

"You've got this Mikey!" April tried her best to encourage him.

"It is just a little longer!" Splinter confirmed.

Donnie grunted. Raph looked at how everyone was in such pain. He then turned his gaze onto Leo. Leo didn't look like he was being resurrected, he looked like he was dying!

"3% left to go!" April stated.

A beeping sound came from one of the panels.

"Boss! Oxygen levels are at 0%!" The gargoyles scrambled.

Raphs heart rate quickened as he watched Leo choke on his final breath and slowly pass out in the water. He couldn't control himself. Raph powered up his Ninpo and broke the clasps around his wrists.

"Raphael, what are you-" Splinter cried out.

Raph ran towards Leo and smashed the tube open with his mystic fist. The glass shattered everywhere as the water spilled out onto the floor. Leo fell forwards into Raphs arms. The machines turned off and the clasps opened. Donnie and Mikey fell to their knees.

"You fool! What were you thinking?!" Draxum shouted at Raph.

But Raph was silent. He stared down at the sopping wet and unconscious Leo in his arms. Leos whole body was shaking something fierce. Raph placed his fingers into Leos neck.

"There's a pulse... Leo's alive!" Raph shouted, with a hint of relief in his voice.

Draxum softened his gaze. He quickly rushed over. But there was something obviously wrong with Leo.

"It will be a short lived revival, if he doesn't breathe!" Draxum said with concern.

Raph looked back down at Leo. His shaking turned into slight twitches. Raph placed a hand onto Leos cheek and gently patted it.

"C'mon Leo, C'mon! You can do it! Just breathe! Just breathe..." Raph shivered slightly with fear.

The others gathered around to look at Leo. But it was just silence. Then suddenly, Leo hiccuped! This caught them off guard. Leo hiccuped again! And again. And again. And again! Leo groaned after each one.

"Hiccups?" Donnie titled his head.

"Leos got the hiccups!" Mikey giggled.

They all made soft cooing sounds and laughter of relief and pity.

"Aw, you poor thing!" Raph pulled Leo in closer.

"You just came back to life, and what you get is the hiccups!" April said as she gently stroked Leos head.

Leo hiccuped and whined loudly.

"Shh, shh! It is okay! Just take deep breaths, can you do that?" Splinter said as he placed a hand onto Leos chest.

Leo proceeded to take many shaky breaths in and out. When they thought they were gone, Leo hiccuped once more! They couldn't hold back their snickering. Leo groaned with annoyance.

"It's okay, just keep breathing, alright?" Raph smiled.

Leo sighed and nodded his head. They all gently embraced Leo in a group hug, Draxum included. Mikey refused to leave him out.

_______

Hope you liked the story! Have an awesome day! 💜

[clangenrising]

Month 20 - Leaffall

Content Warning: This post contains content that may be upsetting to some viewers. See this post for details.

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The grass rustled softly in the light but bitterly cold breeze. Floodstrike watched the breath fog in front of his muzzle and waited, swaying slightly on his feet to mimic the movement of the grass. 

Beside him, Sparrowsway did the same and, past him, Barleybee and, even further, Boldmoth and her apprentice, Erminepaw. Floodstrike couldn’t see the others except for the barest of glimpses when the moonlight caught the grass just right but he knew they were out there. RisingClan, EarthClan, and SkyClan had gathered to keep their agreement with the city cats and had slipped out towards the city under cover of darkness. Now, with the peak of the closest twoleg nest in sight, they held position, waiting for orders. 

After a long period of quiet stillness, a cat appeared on his left - Bluffpaw, Orangestar’s apprentice. 

“Move to the back of the barn, a clearing’s length away,” he whispered, “Stay down wind.” He slipped past Barleybee and repeated the message, proceeding down the frontline until his spotty ginger and white pelt disappeared into the dry grass. 

Floodstrike nodded to Sparrowsway, who returned the look, then twitched his tail for the cat behind him and started off towards the back of the ‘barn’. When they reached about a clearing’s worth of distance from the wooden structure, Floodstrike perked his ears and tasted the air carefully. The barn smelled of hay and old wood and various city cats and other animals. Closer by, he could smell Goldenstar, Orangestar, and one of the city cats he had met before, Schmidt’s brother if he remembered right. 

He glanced around quickly, decided that the barn was providing enough cover, and bounded in their direction. Sparrowsway hissed softly at him but he ignored his brother’s warning. As their scents grew closer, he slowed to a stealthy pace again and ended up coming up between Goldenstar and Orangestar, interrupting the conversation.  

“Floodstrike,” Goldenstar gasped softly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he twitched an ear to dismiss her concern. “What’s the plan?” Goldenstar’s brow furrowed darkly.

“We’re just waitin’ on Sardine,” said the ginger kittypet. “Once he enters the barn, the cat up there will give y'all the signal and you’ll swing the trap shut.” He lifted his tail slightly to indicate a framed hole in the wall near the top of the building with a white furred kittypet sitting in it. The cat looked down and twitched their tail slightly in acknowledgement. 

“Floodstrike, go back to your position,” Goldenstar said sternly. 

“I want to be at the front of the push with you,” Floodstrike stated, ignoring her order. 

“Floodstrike, this is not up for debate,” she said more aggressively, her tail starting to arch behind her. “Go back to your position and wait for the signal.” 

“I deserve to get justice for my apprentice,” he snapped back. The kittypet’s gaze softened sympathetically. Orangestar looked deeply uncomfortable.

“You will,” Goldenstar hissed, rising up on her toes in a threatening display she had never used on him before, “but right now you will go back to your position and follow orders. This is not the time for a tantrum.” The words struck him sharply, along with the furious posture she had turned on him, and he wilted under it, all his determination dissipating like scattered leaves. 

“Right.” He swallowed, unsure how to feel. “Sorry, Goldenstar.” He saw a flicker of guilt cross her face but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Floodstrike turned tail and slank back towards the others. 

Softly, Orangestar cleared her throat and said, “Wes, you were saying?” 

When Floodstrike returned to his position, Sparrowsway was glaring at him. “What was that?” He hissed under his breath.

“Something stupid,” Floodstrike grumbled. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” scoffed his brother.

“Leave him alone,” he read Barleybee’s lips more than he heard her voice. “You know this is hard for him.” 

“Can we all just shut up and focus?” he said a bit louder than he meant to. 

The waiting was unbearable. Floodstrike looked up at the waxing moon and tried to catch it moving across the sky. Was it closer to the roof now than it was before? The stars laid muted under the glowing light from the city. He wondered if Lakepaw was watching him. He wondered if she was embarrassed to be his apprentice. 

His paws were cold. His inner ears ached from the dry chill in the air. He shook out his paws and kneaded loose clods of dirt with his claws to try and keep some feeling in his toes. When was that kittypet in the barn going to give them the signal?

After a while, Goldenstar slank out of the grass and approached him. “Floodstrike, we need to talk,” she said in hushed tones. 

“Okay,” he swallowed. 

Goldenstar glanced at the cats on either side of him before stepping in closer. “Look, I’m sorry I was so aggressive earlier. This is serious and I can’t have my warriors undermining me right now. We both know I let you get away with a lot of stuff and I need to stop doing that. You’re not my apprentice anymore, you’re a full warrior, and I need to treat you like one. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” he nodded sullenly. “I shouldn’t have come over in the first place. I just wanted to know what was going on.” 

“I know,” sighed Goldenstar. “Wes says Sardine is supposedly on his way so it shouldn’t be long. Just have patience.” And with that, she slipped away, farther along the line. Floodstrike grit his teeth in frustration but held his tongue. 

The time stretched on even longer. Messengers came through and told everyone to watch for the signal: a raised tail from the white cat in the barn window. Then they waited. It felt like forever as the night dragged slowly towards morning, the moon rising even higher above them. 

Then, there it was, a lift of the cat’s tail. Floodstrike leapt into action, darting swiftly but quietly forward and around the side of the barn towards the big entryway on the front. This was it, he thought, his heart starting to pound.

Inside, he could hear voices. The first was mocking but put together. “... really, Rudy, I’m hurt that you didn’t invite me to your little shindig. I had to hear about it through a friend of a friend.”

“Who’s that?” This voice was gruffer and deeper in, more muffled by the straw. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t kiss and tell,” said the first voice. “But they were very eager to sell you out, I’m afraid. It’s a shame, really. I was hoping our little game would be a little more interesting than this but it seems we’ve reached the end.” 

The second voice laughed. “Yeah, I bet you were hoping that.” Floodstrike’s speed had gotten him to the front of the barn faster than the rest of the front lines and he slowed down to wait for the others. 

The first voice said condescendingly, “You don’t seem to be understanding how the end is going to play out, Rudy. What, you think you can win this?” 

“Sure do,” said the second voice - Rudy. “I could beat you and your squad of little girls with my paws in boots.”

“Hah!” the first voice laughed. “I’d genuinely like to see you try, that sounds hilarious.” Russetfrond, Coyotechaser, Songdust, and Bogmist emerged from the grass beside Floodstrike and he nodded to them, letting Russetfrond take the lead as they rounded the corner. He didn’t want to disappoint Goldenstar by rushing things and ruining the ambush. 

Still, he was quick on the deputies’ heels, claws itching to see use. As they came around the corner, he spotted two loose groups of cats, one sitting in different positions around the barn, the other clustered near the entrance as if they had just entered. Near the back of that group were several toms with notched ears, all craning their necks to see what was going on. He recognized one of them by his scarred, sable pelt and his blood started to boil inside his veins. 

One of the chaff cats had his mouth open to scent the barn and he whipped around, suddenly able to taste the Clan cats on the wind. “Oh, shit!” Russetfrond collided with him and chaos broke over the crowd. 

“Savages!” went up the cry. 

“Seal off the exits!” shouted Coyotechaser, “Nobody gets out!” 

Several of the warriors took up positions in the entrance but Floodstrike had his eyes on Van Pelt. He lunged and slammed into the rogue claws first, tearing a nasty wound open over his shoulder. The rogue spat furiously and batted sharply at his head before they broke away and started to circle. The barn was filled with caterwauling and cats shouting to each other. 

Van Pelt laughed and declared, “Damn, kid! You turned into quite the beanpole!” He darted in to give Floodstrike a gash on his nose. “Never grew into your ears though.”

“I’m not some helpless apprentice anymore,” snarled Floodstrike as he tackled the rogue to the ground. 

“You fight like one!” laughed Van Pelt with a series of rabbit kicks. One caught Floodstrike hard in the gut and he tumbled away. Managing to roll to his feet, he just barely managed to leap out of the way of Van Pelt’s claws. He danced backward a few paces, then darted back in to swipe at his opponent's face, then turned to follow as Van Pelt twisted out of the way and went for his hind quarters. Floodstrike ducked low against the straw and waggled his hips before leaping, once again tackling Van Pelt to the ground. 

Together, they tumbled in a hissing, spitting clump of claws and teeth until Floodstrike’s back hit a metal shelf on the edge of the room hard and he cried out in pain. Van Pelt laughed his cruel, grating laugh and pressed his advantage, managing to score a deep cut on his soft belly. Floodstrike snarled and kicked the rogue hard in the face, rattling the metal things on the shelf with the force of it. Van Pelt stumbled back, cursing under his breath, and Floodstrike rolled off of the shelf and into a defensive crouch. 

“You brat!” Van Pelt spat, running a paw over his eye a few times. 

“Told you,” shrugged Floodstrike smugly. 

“You’re right,” Van Pelt’s eyes darted over the room beside them, “it’s just not as fun now that you’re all grown up.” He lunged to the side and Floodstrike braced himself in confusion, waiting for the lunge to turn into a feint but it didn’t. Too late, he saw what Van Pelt had been looking for. The rogue slammed into an unsuspecting Erminepaw, sinking his teeth into the apprentice as he took her to the ground. 

Floodstrike yowled, fear and anger erupting within him, and he dove after Van Pelt. His teeth found the rogue’s tail and he tugged sharply on it, allowing Erminepaw to squirm out of his claws. Van Pelt laughed and turned to swipe at Floodstrike only to spin and slash his claws across the apprentice’s side again as soon as Floodstrike let him go. 

“Leave them alone!” Floodstrike roared, rearing up to smack him roughly about the ears. 

“Touched a nerve, did I?” cackled the rogue, batting his paws out of the way. Erminepaw hesitated in their readied stance, glancing between Floodstrike and his opponent and where Boldmoth was struggling against a pair of her own rogues. 

“Go with her,” Floodstrike told her, “I’ve got this one.”

“Do you?” taunted Van Pelt. Erminepaw nodded regardless and leapt for the other fight. Van Pelt tried to snag her with his claws but Floodstrike swung a paw out and struck him in the front of the throat, stopping him dead in his tracks as he gagged and gasped for air. 

“Yeah, I think I do,” smirked Floodstrike, pressing his advantage to throw the rogue off balance and strike at his underbelly. “You think you’re so tough but you’re just a pathetic little bully!”

“Look who’s talking,” Van Pelt wheezed. Above them, the metal things on the shelf rattled violently as Boldmoth jumped and kicked off of it to land on top of one of her opponents and a set of big cylinders crashed to the ground with a hollow clang, nearly hitting Floodstrike in the head. He managed to twist out of the way, only to look up and see that Van Pelt was on his feet, leaping through the gap in the shelf to press against the wall. 

“You can’t get out that way,” Floodstrike growled, moving to block the edge where the shelf met the wall but Van Pelt just sneered at him. 

“Who says I'm running?” he said, rearing up to give the shelf a shove from behind. It wobbled and tipped, showering more metal cylinders on the cats fighting below. Erminepaw backed up against the shelf to avoid them and Floodstrike’s stomach twisted as an image of her crushed beneath its weight flashed into his mind. He sprang through the shelving and grabbed their scruff in his teeth, barreling out the other side into a bank of straw and dust. Behind him there was a mighty clatter and a cat screamed in pain. 

“Boldmoth!” cried Erminepaw. Floodstrike’s throat tightened. He wheeled around and there was Boldmoth, her back leg pinned beneath a red metal box. Beside her, a kittypet lay wheezing under the bulk of the shelf, his chest deformed from the impact. The other rogue Boldmoth had been fighting was trying to get him out to no success. Van Pelt was gone. 

“Fox dung,” Floodstrike hissed, hopping up over the shelf into the gap where Boldmoth was pinned. “Just hang on, Boldmoth, we’ll get you out.”

“It’s definitely broken,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Help me push!” said Erminepaw, putting their paws up against the box. Floodstrike joined her and together they heaved against its side. The box was heavier than expected and Boldmoth cried out again, her tail bristling from the pain.

“Maybe we should wait for the healers,” Erminepaw swallowed. “We could mess it up more if we’re not careful!”

“No,” Boldmoth gasped, hunched over with her eyes shut tight. “I’m a sitting duck here. We don’t have time to wait.”

“One more shove should do it,” said Floodstrike. “Three, two, one-!” They heaved again, and with a loud ker-thunk! the box toppled over and off of Boldmoth’s crumpled leg. Floodstrike pressed up against her bad side and heaved her to her feet with his shoulder. “Easy… there we go. Come on.”

“Erminepaw can escort me,” she said, sounding strained, “you get back to the fight.”

“You’re sure?” he asked.“Yeah, flea-brain, just go!” she snapped. Floodstrike nodded and hopped up onto the shelf to get a better view. Beneath it, the rogue winced. There! -- Floodstrike spotted Barleybee and Sparrowsway fighting side by side and he launched off of the shelf and into the fray to join them, his claws hungry for blood.

[billionairebratenergy]

Heat of the Moment

Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: He watches you like you’re the most dangerous thing in the room, and maybe, just maybe, you like the way his restraint starts to crack.

Continue reading below ⬇

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The gym in Stark Tower was meant for training. Precision. Discipline. Sweat dripping down the back of your neck as you pushed your body to its limits, muscles burning, lungs gasping for air. But there was one glaring issue standing between you and peak performance.

Tony.

Leaning against the railing like he didn’t have a care in the world, arms crossed, smirk firmly in place, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room. His eyes weren’t on the targets you were supposed to be hitting. Not on your footwork, not on your stance. No, he was watching you, like you were a slow sip of whiskey he wanted to savor.

“You’re staring again,” you noted, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand.

“Am I?” Tony mused, tilting his head like he wasn’t blatantly eyeing the way your tank top clung to your body. “Maybe I’m just admiring my investment. You’ve been putting in the work, sweetheart.”

Your jaw twitched as you spun the training staff in your grip. “I’m not a new prototype, Stark.”

He grinned. “No, but you are a damn masterpiece.”

You threw the staff at him. Not hard, but enough to make him react.

Tony caught it effortlessly, one-handed, because of course he did. He twirled it once, testing its weight, before tossing it back to you with an almost lazy flick of his wrist.

You caught it and pointed it at his chest, stepping closer. “If you’re going to keep distracting me, at least make yourself useful.”

His lips curled. “Is that your way of asking me to spar with you? Because, baby, there are other ways to get me on top of you.”

You huffed, shoving his shoulder as you turned away, but your traitorous heart thumped at his words. You should have known better than to take Tony seriously when he was in one of his teasing moods.

“Focus,” you muttered under your breath, adjusting your stance as you moved toward the training dummy, willing yourself to ignore the weight of Tony’s gaze.

It didn’t work.

Because every time you threw a punch, every time you shifted your hips or adjusted your stance, you felt it—his eyes tracking you like a missile lock. Heat prickled down your spine, and you bit your lip to keep from calling him out again.

Seconds later, he was behind you, stepping into your space, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

“You’re leaving your left side open,” he murmured, his breath ghosting against your ear.

You swallowed hard. “You gonna keep standing there looking pretty, or are you actually going to help?”

Tony chuckled, low and deep. “Oh, sweetheart. You want my hands on you? All you had to do was ask.”

You didn’t have time to react before his hands settled on your waist. His touch was firm, grounding, and way too distracting. He guided you into a wider stance, pressing just enough to make your skin tingle under his fingers.

"Better," he said, his voice softer now, approving.

You exhaled, ignoring the goosebumps rising on your arms. "Took you long enough to be useful."

Tony smirked, but his hands didn’t leave you. Instead, they skimmed lightly over your arms, adjusting your form with a precision that made your pulse spike.

"Don't tense up," he murmured. "You're strong, but strength without control is wasted energy. Relax."

You tried. You really did. But it was impossible to relax when Tony Stark was standing this close, when his voice was doing that low, intimate thing that made your stomach flip, when his touch was setting fire to every nerve ending in your body.

"You're still tense," he noted.

"Gee, I wonder why," you deadpanned.

Tony hummed, feigning innocence. "Can't imagine."

You clenched your jaw, refocusing on the training dummy. With a swift movement, you swung the staff in a tight arc, landing a solid hit to the dummy’s side. Another hit. Then another. The staff whirled effortlessly in your hands, muscle memory taking over, each strike landing with more force than the last.

Tony didn’t step back. He stayed in your space, watching you with a look that was no longer teasing. No longer playful. It was darker now, edged with something that made heat curl in your stomach.

His fingers skimmed down your arm again, a whisper of a touch, but this time, he didn’t pull away.

"You're beautiful when you fight," he murmured.

The words caught you off guard.

Your grip faltered for half a second, and Tony took full advantage.

In a flash, he spun you, knocking the staff from your hands, catching your wrist in a quick maneuver that had your back pressed against his chest. Your breath hitched. His hold was firm but careful, his body solid behind you, every inch of him pressed against every inch of you.

You had trained with plenty of people before. But no one made you feel like this.

"You were distracted," Tony murmured, lips brushing your ear.

"You’re distracting," you countered, tilting your head to look at him.

His smirk softened. Just a little. His hand released your wrist, only to slide lower, settling at your waist again, keeping you against him.

"Yeah," he admitted, voice dropping. "I know."

You swallowed hard, heart pounding.

His gaze flickered to your lips.

You barely had time to take a breath before his mouth was on yours.

The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to taste you, like he was savoring the way you melted against him.

Tony Stark kissed like he did everything else—with purpose, with confidence, with just the right amount of arrogance to make your knees weak.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groaned against your lips, deep and low.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

"You really gotta work on your focus, sweetheart," he teased.

You laughed, breathless. "Says the guy who spent the last hour watching my ass instead of coaching me properly."

Tony grinned. "In my defense, it's a very nice ass."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the way your cheeks burned.

He took a step back, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "Come on, hotshot. Let’s hit the showers before I end up pinning you to the mat in ways that have nothing to do with training."

Your stomach fluttered, but you smirked, grabbing your staff from the ground.

"Careful, Stark. If you keep up with the staring, I might just make you spar with me next time."

Tony chuckled, reaching for your hand as you walked out of the gym together.

"Sweetheart," he said, lacing his fingers through yours, "that’s exactly what I’m hoping for."

[cece693]

Personal Bodyguard

pairing: tony stark x male reader tags: you can't tell me Tony isn't bi or at least experimented in his youth, you become his personal bodyguard after the cave fiasco and iron man revelation, enemies-to-friends-to lovers, Tony really needs a hug, reader is set to become his friend (and more), military background

You’re used to working in tense environments. The military taught you that complacency is death and that vigilance is survival. You’ve seen your fair share of conflict, learned to read people and situations at a glance. That’s probably why Pepper Potts sought you out after Tony Stark’s dramatic return from Afghanistan. She looked you up and down with calculating eyes, recognized a bit of herself in your “don’t mess with me” attitude, and decided on the spot—you were the best candidate to protect Tony Stark from himself, and from the new, dangerous world he was plunging into.

Tony’s penthouse overlooks the Malibu coastline, the sun reflecting off the ocean waves and onto polished floors. There he stands—fresh from the workshop, grease on his tank top and that lopsided grin that only half-masks the shadows under his eyes. He spots you, sizes you up, and crosses his arms. “Pep, this is the solution you found?” Tony gestures at you dismissively. “A glorified babysitter?”

Pepper forces a polite smile. “A bodyguard, Tony.” You don’t rise to his bait. The best reaction here is none at all—just a stony expression. Let him get it out of his system. He cocks an eyebrow at your silence, clearly expecting some snark in return.

“Fine,” he says, turning on his heel. “Follow me. Or don’t. Whatever." Pepper shakes her head apologetically as she goes to leave. Before she goes, she places a hand on your shoulder, giving you an unspoken good luck. You already know you’ll need it.

Tony tries his best to make your life difficult. He’ll disappear from his home at odd hours, use his snark to try and aggravate you, or do something reckless like attempt a suit flight test above the Malibu cliffs. However, you're never that far behind and your patience is endless. One night, he’s just touched down too hard in the Mark II, crashing through his garage and damaging several of his expensive cars. You rush in, weapon at the ready, scanning for threats.

“Relax,” Tony says, struggling to peel off the broken armor. “It’s just me doing some, uh, routine test improvements.” You exhale slowly, then calmly dismantle your sidearm. No threats—except the one Tony poses to himself.

“You know,” you say eventually, picking up a piece of the shattered gauntlet, “if you keep messing around with these half-finished upgrades, eventually I won’t just be your bodyguard. I’ll be the one scraping you off the ground.”

Tony stares at you, momentarily struck by the genuine concern in your voice, before clearing his throat. “Point taken,” he mutters, but for the first time, he seems less antagonistic—and almost thankful.

The slow thaw between you and Tony continues. He starts sharing details of the Iron Man suit, half to show off and half because he’s realized you’re more at ease when you know everything that’s going on. You learn that behind the smug exterior, Tony is propelled by guilt, determination, and a heart that aches to do genuine good. And for your part, despite your initial refusal to get personally involved, you find yourself caring about him—protecting him matters, but so does understanding him.

Late nights often find the two of you in the workshop. Tony’s hyper-focused on some new repulser tech while you stand guard, occasionally offering your own insight to whatever he was working on. You’d never guess Tony would be the type to listen, but he does, especially when your suggestions keep him from blowing up half the lab. He’ll acknowledge your tips with a half-smile, or a nod that says more than words.

Pepper noticed the shift. She’d smile at you in passing, relief evident in her eyes. She once patted your shoulder and said, “You’re good for him. He trusts you, and that’s not something I say lightly.” Rhodey, Tony’s closest friend, warmed up to you fast. He appreciated having another military mind around. When Tony got lost in his own arrogance, Rhodey and you would share an exasperated look.

Then everything changes again when Tony becomes an Avenger. Suddenly, it’s not just small-scale threats or paparazzi you have to worry about—it’s cosmic forces, alien invasions, global catastrophes. You do your best to keep Tony safe in these new, unpredictable situations, but it’s a challenge.

The Avengers team is a powder keg of personalities. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, openly clashes with Tony over leadership and moral ideals. You see how the tension weighs on Tony; he deflects with sarcasm, but you’ve come to know the signs of when he’s hurting.

One night at the tower, you’re standing off to the side while Tony and Steve butt heads—again. "Take away the armor," Steve says, voice steely, "and what are you?" The words hang in the air. Tony’s jaw tightens, and you can practically see his heart sink. It’s a cheap shot. And it’s wrong. You step forward before Tony can snap back with a trademark insult. There’s a calm coolness in your voice, the kind that hushes even the Captain.

“Tony Stark is the mind that built that suit,” you say evenly. “He’s the one who sees solutions where everyone else sees dead ends. If you take away the armor, you’ve still got the man who pulled himself out of a cave and saved his own life with scrap metal—because that’s who he is. He’s more than the suit, Rogers, and you know it.”

Steve meets your gaze and steps forward, but you aren’t intimidated. There were lines you simply wouldn’t let him cross, not tonight, not after he delivered that cheap shot at Tony without even knowing him. You can see Tony stiffen beside you, as if ready to jump in—or bolt. But you’re not about to let Steve’s words cut him down.

“Think very carefully about what you say next, Rogers,” you warn, voice low and steady. “Because none of you would be here—Avengers, Stark Tower, anything—if it weren’t for this man. Armor or no armor.”

For a split second, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. Clint shifts uneasily near the back, Natasha straightens from her casual lean against the wall, and even Bruce lifts his head from the tablet he’s been absorbed in. Steve’s jaw tightens; he clearly didn’t expect you to stand your ground so bluntly—and you don’t care. Your top priority is Tony’s well-being, not theirs. With nothing more to say, you turn on your heel and head for the workshop.

By the time you reach the corridor leading to Tony’s private workspace, the echo of your own footsteps has become a steady, reassuring beat. Only then do you register the soft tread following behind you. He’s close—but conspicuously silent, which is out of character for a man who thrives on quips and banter.

“Sir, you have arrived at the workshop,” Jarvis’s polite voice chimes overhead, and the door slides open with a hiss.

You step inside and finally turn around. Tony lingers just past the threshold, his eyes lowered. His silence seems almost heavy, like he’s struggling to find the right words. “I never asked you to defend me,” he murmurs. “But you…you did. Why?” The workshop’s lights glow softly, illuminating half-built armor pieces and scattered blueprints. You let the sound of humming machinery fill the short gap before you speak.

“Because you needed someone to,” you say simply, though your voice carries an undercurrent of heat—residual frustration from your confrontation with Steve. “And because I wanted to.”

Tony’s gaze flickers upward—he looks uncertain, almost disarmed. “I can handle myself,” he says, though he doesn’t quite meet your eyes. It’s a weak protest, more habit than conviction.

You exhale, crossing your arms. “I know you can. Doesn’t mean you have to face it alone. Especially when the hits are coming from the people supposed to have your back.”

“You caught me off guard,” he admits, voice low, “standing up for me like that. Especially in front of the team.”

You stand your ground, letting the seriousness of the moment settle in. “You act like I never stand up for you.”

A wry huff of laughter escapes him. “Not the same way. Usually, you’re telling me not to blow up half my lab or reminding me to eat something other than coffee. This time you had my back when it counted.”

“Isn’t that why I’m here?” you ask, tilting your head. “I’m your bodyguard, Mr. Stark. That means I protect you—against outside threats and inside threats too. Even if that threat’s a super soldier with a knack for colorful speeches.”

“So that’s it?” he asks, a thin note of vulnerability in his tone. “You did it because it’s your job?” You take in his tense posture—shoulders rigid, hand flexing at his side. Tony’s never been good at showing his more vulnerable edges. Carefully, you move closer, letting your voice soften.

“Let’s get one thing straight. Defending you isn’t just me ‘clocking in.’ I do it because I care. Because I know you’re more than just the suit, no matter what Steve says.” Tony looks up at you in surprise, but you're not done yet. "If this was just part of my job, I wouldn't be spending all my free time down here with you. I would've jumped at the chance to quit when you offered it on a silver platter."

Tony cracks a half-smile, remembering when he outright tried to bribe you to quit, and you surprisingly rejected his offer. The money could've set you for life, supported you and a family if you so desired, but you simply shook your head and informed him about a meeting he had in the morning.

Tony moves closer, so close you can count the faint freckles along his cheekbones. “I hated the idea of having a bodyguard,” Tony admits, voice low. “But I’ve come to realize how much I needed you.” Your heart stutters, unsure of how to respond. Tony swallows thickly, looking uncharacteristically unsure. There’s no witty remark, no deflecting sarcasm. It’s just him, raw and honest, baring feelings you never thought he’d share.

“You’ve become one of the closest people in my life,” he continues. “I trust you in ways I don’t trust anyone else. Hell, Pepper might be the only other person who gets me anywhere close to this.” He hesitates, eyes flicking to your lips before returning to your gaze. “And…I’ve been trying to figure out how to say I might—well—I feel something for you.”

Your stomach flips, warmth blooming in your chest. There’s something surreal about this: Tony Stark, the man who refused to even acknowledge your presence at first, now openly admitting he cares—that he wants something more than just having you as security detail.

A ghost of a smile curves your lips. “I might feel something for you, too.” Tony’s grin is immediate—relief and mischief dancing in his eyes. He leans in, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades.

“Do I have to make an appointment to kiss my bodyguard,” he murmurs, “or is this—” You cut him off by closing the distance, your lips finding his in a slow, tentative kiss.

[youdonthavetosayiloveyou]

first moosespurge dms had some inspo from the selfie they took on the plane to sweden so to celebrate :))))

Jared brought his hand down to Marcus’s knee, his fingers making a slow circle as he looked up at the sleeping man again. Sighing, he tried closing his eyes again, hoping that the grounding physical touch he usually slept with would help him finally pass out.

After what felt like another eternity, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the plane. Being able to nap on their regular short haul flights was somehow no issue, but god forbid a man try to sleep on an overnight, long haul one. Keeping his grip on Marcus’s hand closest to him, Jared rubbed his other slowly up his leg. He didn’t want to wake the other man necessarily, but his body just happened to be Jared’s favorite fidget toy. Marcus was usually hyper reactive, body usually giving a twitch, and, well, he always had something to say about it too. The guy was solidly passed out behind his sleeping mask though, not a single acknowledgment given to his touch. Lucky bastard, he thought to himself.

Jared started to lightly trail his fingers along Marcus’s thigh, the repetitive motion of smoothing his fingers along the blanket covering his legs soothing to him at least. Only as his fingers swept higher to where he was most sensitive did he finally get the slight response of Marcus shifting in his sleep, his neck twitching and his head lowering to Jared’s shoulder. Jared rested his head on top of the other man’s and continued his ministrations, tugging a bit on the fingers in his other hand.

Well, at least one of us is getting sleep, Jared thought as he tried closing his eyes again. Resting your eyes is better than nothing is what his mom had always told him, and this was as close to cuddling as he’d be able to get in a plane seat. He continued his motion slowly up and down Marcus’s leg when the back of his hand hit a bulge in the blanket. Opening his eyes, he looked around the top of Marcus’s head, smirking as he took in the lump rising from the blanket.

A past conversation filtered through his head, “Look, I know I sleep like an angel. If you ever wanted to……. touch something so heavenly…. I wouldn’t say no.” Marcus had accompanied it with an obnoxious wink that Jared had originally responded to with an eye roll, but had him considering his options now.

Sliding his hand under Marcus’s blanket he thought, No time like the present, resting his hand on the half hard cock. He took in the familiar weight, running his thumb along the head through his sweatpants. They had fooled around on a few team flights before, but those were always fast and hot, trying to finish before anyone would notice what they were up to. Now… now Jared had the luxury of time. Only half way through their flight across the Atlantic, he could work Marcus up for however long he wanted. See how long he could go before the other man twitched awake.

He cupped his hand around the base and slowly jerked up, the material of the sweatpants providing some glide. He continued to alternate his attention, before slipping his hand under the waistband to fondle a bit at Marcus’s balls. Scraping his fingers through the hair at the base of his dick, Jared firmly gripped him before bringing his thumb up to swipe at the bit of moisture that had started to collect there. It was then that he felt Marcus’s hand twitch in his other one. His neck stiffened up as his head shot off of Jared’s shoulder.

“Jared?” dragged out of his mouth, half asleep and low. Jared started to quietly shush him, rubbing soothingly at the crease of his hip.

“Good morning, took you long enough to join the party,” Jared whispered back to him, biting back a smile at how Marcus’s breathing had sped up.

“What. What’re you doing?” Marcus slurred, raising his hand to remove his eye mask.

Jared swung his hand out of his sweatpants, catching Marcus’s with a hushed tut, “I think it might be better if you keep that on actually. We wouldn’t want people to figure out what we’re doing now would we?” Marcus released a slow whine, both of his hands twitching in Jared’s hold. “If you’d like to continue this, you’ll have to keep it quiet. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Audibly gulping, Marcus drew in a few breaths before releasing a quiet, “Yes, babe.”

[neo-shitty]

i've let myself be fully absorbed by minecraft :')

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[dollfacefantasy]

toji fushiguro x crybaby!fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dacryphilia, size kink, daddy kink

Thinking about the first time Toji lets his sweet, sensitive girlfriend ride him...

It happens around a month after you and him start dating. It's the first time you have sex. He hadn't had to wait that long to take that step since he was younger, but for you, he was willing to do it again. 

He liked you a lot, and he also figured it'd be worth it. Not only were you beautiful, but your nature - sweet and shy, eyes always downcast with cheeks hot from timidity -  made him crave the moment when he'd get to see you come apart. When your eyes would be rolled back in your skull, your lips parted and wet, those warm cheeks slick with tears rolling down them.

On the night you agree to go all the way, he offers to let you ride. He tells you it's because you'll have more control that way. He's a big guy after all, you'll want to set the pace. On top, you can decide how much you take and how fast you go. So you agree. It seems like the most logical choice in this situation.

In truth, he suggests the position for far more selfish reasons. Reasons that make themself apparent as soon as you finish swiping his swollen tip through the wetness of your folds. He suggested it for this view. You, sinking onto his shaft, forcing yourself lower while whimpering. He could see it all over your face in the way your brows were furrowed and your nose scrunched. The stretch of him inside you stung, but you wanted more of that painful pleasure.

He watches with lust blown pupils as you lower atop his thighs. Your cunt swallows each inch of his cock one by one, the walls squeezing around him a blissful massage. He can feel your slick leaking from you, dribbling down to his sack.

"Toji. It-" you start, cut off by your own whimper. God, your eyes were already brimming with tears. He has to restrain himself from blowing his load in that moment. "I can't move. It's too much."

The scarred side of his lips curves upward into a smirk. "Too much? But your pussy's takin' it so well, princess," he croons.

His hands find your hips, fingers wrapping around your waist and thumbs petting your skin in small strokes. He keeps you steady as you adjust to the thick length filling you up.

"It's too big. Can't do it," you pout, a droplet of water falling from your eye. Your lip wobbles and his dick throbs inside you.

"Yes, you can. Do you need some help?" he asks, gently mocking you.

You're quick to nod, no shame behind your agreement. Those hands on your midriff grip tighter and tenderly lift you up. And then they drop you back down.

He goes so slow, but from the sounds you're making, you'd think he was jackhammering up into you. You choke out moans and mewls while your fingers dig into the spheres of his shoulders, leaving little crescent indentations on the smooth surface of his skin.

"That's right, baby. Hold on tight. Daddy's gotcha," he grunts.

You were so fucking wet. Gushing down his length, marking the sheets beneath him with a darkened splotch of arousal. He keeps bouncing you in a steady rhythm. Your head had fallen back, leaving your throat exposed to him.

He takes the opportunity presented with no real hesitation. His mouth latches onto your neck and kisses the skin, licking at the warmth and nipping love bites onto the flesh. While he's doing this, the frequency of the lewd noises between your legs increase in frequency. You're starting to bounce yourself too now.

More whimpers fall from your lips in between hiccuped sobs. He watches in awe. This is why he wanted you to ride. He could be involved and control things when needed, but he could also watch you fuck yourself dumb.

You keep rising and falling, bouncing up and down on his lap. Tears pour from your eyes as if they're coming from an endless reservoir.

"Atta girl," he murmurs, his hands sliding up to your breasts. He pinches and tweaks your nipples, savoring the extra whines it brings out of you. He watches the little buds perk up, almost calling out to his mouth to engulf them.

"Am I- 'm I doin' good?" you whimper, pulling his attention upwards.

"Mhm, doing great. You keep bouncing on daddy's lap. We gotta break in that cute little cunt, yeah?" he says. Not that you notice it, but he grins. Of course you wanted his approval. Just like when you'd take him to the mall with you and come out of the fitting room in a new skirt to show off, you wanted to know that he thought you were doing something right.

You nod, your eyes bleary from tears and the mental fog you were fucking yourself into. His palms fall down to your hips again to aid your movements when needed. One of them slides to your center though to give your clit a few little rubs. The bundle of nerves was aching for his touch. He could tell because when he touched it, your face practically went lax the way you melted from the fiery pleasure in your core.

"F-fuck," you stutter. Your waterline overflows with tears while your eyes droop from your proximity to release.

He chuckles and guides your body close to his. Your hips still try to maneuver up and down, but he knows he has to take over now. Your face slots into the crook of his neck, and he leans back, tilting your body upwards into a position that he can thrust in.

"Such a good girl. You did such a good job for your first time riding," he coos. His cock starts sliding in and out of your hole. You're soaked, so there's no resistance. Just his skin on yours, his fat balls swinging with each pump of his hips.

"Thank you," you whine.

"Let me finish it out, baby. It's too hard for a pretty thing like you. Y'got nothing in that little head of yours right now, just hot air between those ears, hm?" he asks.

You nod lazily and hum, a low and pleasured pitch vibrating from your throat.

"Thought so. We'll get you going longer eventually. Gonna have this pussy trained to take me however I need," he grunts.

He keeps fucking into you. His heels dig into the ground for leverage so he can rock up and down, smack his hips against yours. The pace is fast but deliberate. Each stroke strikes a pleasure spot and knocks you closer to the edge. Every swivel of his hips caresses a vein on his shaft and brings him nearer to shooting his hot, sticky cum inside you.

He can feel your body getting taut with the need to explode, so he starts hammering faster. It cracks whatever resolve you had left and brings full-fledged cries from you. Tepid tears trail down your cheeks and throat and pool against the column of his throat. It drives him wild.

He fucks you over the edge, not stopping at all when you squeal out 'daddy' for him. His eyes roll back because your cunt gets impossibly tighter. It feels like you want to milk him, want to squeeze every last drop of release from him. Lucky for you, he's willing to give you all that he can.

His hips sputter as they dart up, instinctively seeking the warm embrace of your pussy to unload into. His motions get messy now; some cum is fired into your center while some smears and leaks to the outside from the erratic nature of his thrusts.

You both pant when the afterglow washes over you like sun through a beautiful stained glass window. Your body melts on top of his. It feels like you're one and not just because his cock is softening inside of you. Your cries quiet to sniffles and tears stop flowing. He holds you tight and rubs your back.

"If you cry like that while riding, I can't wait to see what you do when I get your legs over my shoulders," he mutters with a smug lilt to his voice.

[promptedwordsmith]

Please mayhaps could you write something cute of Mc/Reader falling asleep while laying on their chest listening to their heartbeat 😭

inspired by this dialogue from Zayne I just got 🙈

Love your writing btw, I binge read all your stuff earlier…😭

Aww thank you!

Caleb

The night was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city in the distance. The stars stretched endlessly above you, faint against the glow of streetlights filtering through the window. The air was cool, a soft breeze shifting the curtains, but the warmth of Caleb beside you made the world feel impossibly small, like the only thing that mattered was the space between you.

You hadn’t meant to stay this late.

It had started with a casual visit—an excuse, really. Just an evening spent together after days of missing each other between missions and responsibilities. You had barely managed to steal moments alone lately, both of you too caught up in the demands of your work, your Evols, your duties. And now, here you were, hours later, lying on his couch, wrapped up in his presence as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Caleb sat against the cushions, his black and orange jacket tossed somewhere over the armrest, leaving him in just a simple t-shirt. He had one arm resting lazily behind his head, the other draped across your back. Your body was half on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest, rising and falling with each steady breath he took.

The sound of his heartbeat filled your ears.

Strong. Constant. Safe.

You hadn’t planned on falling asleep like this. But after everything—after the exhaustion, the weeks of pushing forward without rest—this felt… inevitable. Like gravity pulling you down.

Caleb hadn’t moved much since you’d settled there, just enough to shift comfortably, to make sure you had the space to breathe. His fingers ghosted over your back, absentminded, soothing. He wasn’t speaking, but he didn’t need to. The warmth of his body, the solid presence of him beneath you—it was enough.

You felt his chest rumble slightly as he let out a breath, a soft chuckle you almost missed.

"Didn’t think you’d get this comfortable with me so soon."

You made a small noise in protest but didn’t lift your head. It was too much effort, and you were too content.

His fingers brushed against the curve of your shoulder, warm and slow. "Not that I mind," he murmured.

You sighed, shifting just slightly, letting your body mold more against his. “M’not comfortable,” you mumbled sleepily, words muffled against his shirt.

"Oh?" Amusement colored his voice.

"M’just… too tired to move."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Right. That’s it."

You didn’t argue. You barely had the energy to think, much less banter with him. The steady thump-thump of his heart was lulling you under, making it hard to focus on anything but the warmth beneath your fingertips.

A few minutes passed in silence, peaceful and undisturbed. Caleb wasn’t one to stay still for long, not with the kind of life he led, but right now, he hadn’t moved an inch. Maybe he didn’t want to wake you. Maybe he just liked this as much as you did.

And then, in a voice quieter than before, he spoke again.

"Feels nice."

You made a questioning sound, but you didn’t open your eyes.

His fingers traced a slow, lazy path down your back. "Having you here like this."

Your heart skipped.

It wasn’t like Caleb to say things outright. Not when it came to feelings, anyway. He showed his affection in actions—through protection, through thoughtfulness, through every quiet way he looked after you. But every now and then, he let things slip.

And for some reason, this moment felt more intimate than any of the ones before.

You swallowed, suddenly more aware of how close you were. His heartbeat, still steady beneath your ear, was the only thing grounding you.

You exhaled. "I like it too."

His hand stilled for half a second, then continued its slow, absentminded movements.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, saying nothing at all.

Time didn’t matter.

The world outside didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the way his heart beat for you, with you.

And eventually, before you even realized it, you drifted into sleep, safe in his arms.

Caleb had lost count of how long he’d been lying there, unmoving, just watching you.

You had fallen asleep so easily against him, so naturally, as if you had always belonged there. Your breaths were soft, steady, barely more than a whisper against his skin. And your weight—light but present—felt right.

He exhaled, staring at the ceiling.

He should’ve moved. He should’ve carried you to bed, tucked you in properly, maybe even left the room to give you space.

But he didn’t.

Because some part of him—some deep, selfish part—couldn’t bring himself to let go.

His arms tightened around you, just slightly. He felt the way you shifted in response, curling closer in your sleep, like even unconscious, you knew you were safe with him.

That did something to him.

He had spent so long protecting you, making sure you were okay, keeping his distance where he thought you needed it. But now, here you were—sleeping soundly on his chest, trusting him without hesitation.

And it undid him.

His fingers traced absent patterns against your back, slow, thoughtful. He didn’t know if you’d even remember this in the morning, if you’d be embarrassed, if you’d pull away and act like it hadn’t happened. But he’d remember.

He’d remember the way your breathing synced with his, the way your body had fit against him like it was meant to be there. He’d remember the warmth of you, the way you had melted into him without fear.

And, more than anything, he’d remember the moment he realized—he never wanted this to end.

He exhaled, tilting his head just enough to press the lightest of kisses against your hair. A whisper of a touch, something you wouldn’t feel, something just for him.

"Sleep well," he murmured against your temple. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

And for once, he truly meant it.

Rafayel

Rafayel always ran a little warmer than most, his body heat like an ember refusing to die out. It was comforting in a way that made it difficult to resist curling up beside him, though you rarely admitted that out loud. He’d be insufferable if you did, teasing you with that lazy grin, calling you clingy despite the fact that he was the one who draped himself over you like a heavy blanket more often than not.

Tonight was no different.

It had been a long day—one of those days where exhaustion settled into your bones like a permanent weight. The kind of day where even lifting a hand to wave away Rafayel’s usual antics felt like too much effort. You had barely managed to shuffle into his home, kicking off your shoes in a haphazard heap by the door before collapsing onto his couch without so much as a greeting.

Rafayel, ever the dramatic one, had let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down beside you, slouching against the cushions as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “You look like you’ve fought an entire army and lost.”

You hummed in response, not even bothering to open your eyes.

That wasn’t enough for him, of course. He prodded your arm with a single finger, then two, then your cheek, then your forehead—until you swatted weakly at his hand, cracking one eye open to glare at him.

“If you don’t let me rest, I’ll—”

“What?” He smirked, all sharp teeth and amusement. “Throw me out? I live here.”

You groaned, rolling onto your side to put your back to him, but it was no use. Rafayel was persistent when he wanted to be. His arm slung itself over your waist, not quite pulling you in, but making sure you couldn’t wriggle away either.

“Stay up with me,” he murmured.

“No.”

“Rude.”

You huffed a small laugh, but the exhaustion was winning. You felt the weight of his arm shift slightly, and before you knew it, he was adjusting, coaxing you effortlessly into his embrace as if it was second nature.

You barely resisted.

His chest was warm beneath your cheek, rising and falling in an easy rhythm, his heartbeat a steady thump-thump against your ear. You listened without thinking, without meaning to, letting the sound ground you in a way that nothing else could.

“Comfortable?” Rafayel’s voice was softer now, lacking his usual teasing lilt.

You made a vague sound of agreement, nuzzling just a little closer.

His fingers skimmed lightly over your back, absentmindedly tracing little shapes into your shirt. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Mhm.”

“You weren’t supposed to agree.”

You smiled sleepily.

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t empty. It was full of the warmth of his body, the scent of sea breeze and something faintly sweet, the quiet lull of his breathing.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

You wondered if he even realized how soothing it was. If he knew how easily he could lull you to sleep just by being there.

His hand stilled against your back, and for a moment, you thought maybe he had fallen asleep too. But then, his voice—softer now, barely above a whisper—broke the silence.

“You do this a lot.”

You hummed, half-asleep already. “Do what?”

“Listen to my heartbeat.”

Your eyes cracked open just enough to peek up at him, but his expression was unreadable in the dim light. His gaze was focused on the ceiling, his lips pressed together in quiet contemplation.

You shrugged, your fingers absentmindedly curling into the fabric of his shirt. “It’s… nice.”

Rafayel let out a small breath of amusement, though there was something thoughtful in the way he tightened his grip around you, as if trying to pull you just a little closer. “I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”

You blinked sleepily. “Really?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering it. “Most people don’t get close enough to notice.”

That made sense, you supposed. Rafayel was not an easy person to get close to. He could charm his way into any room, could captivate entire crowds with his talent and confidence—but when it came to true closeness, true intimacy, he chose his moments carefully. He built walls around himself, kept his distance from the world even as he stood in its spotlight.

But with you…

You weren’t entirely sure when it had changed. When the teasing had shifted into something softer, something real. When he had stopped keeping you at arm’s length.

Maybe it had been gradual, like the way the tide reshapes the shore over time.

Or maybe it had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

His fingers resumed their absentminded tracing against your back. “Does it make you feel safe?”

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah.”

Rafayel exhaled, a breath that sounded far too heavy for such a simple conversation. But he didn’t say anything else.

His heartbeat continued its steady rhythm beneath your ear.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

You sighed, letting your eyes drift shut again. Sleep pulled at you like a tide, warm and steady.

You didn’t know how long you lay there, tangled up in each other, before Rafayel finally spoke again, voice so quiet you almost thought you imagined it.

“…Good.”

And then, as if nothing had happened, his fingers continued their slow, lazy patterns against your back, lulling you further into sleep.

The last thing you felt before drifting off completely was the faintest press of lips against the top of your head.

Rafayel didn’t say anything else.

He didn’t need to.

Sylus

The night was warm, the kind of heat that settled under your skin and refused to let go. The air carried the faint scent of rain from earlier, mixing with the smoky tang of the fire burning low in Sylus’ study. You had been sprawled across the couch for what felt like hours, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, but no matter what you did, rest wouldn’t come.

You huffed, rolling onto your stomach, cheek pressing into the cushion. Across the room, Sylus sat at his desk, flipping through a dossier with the kind of effortless focus that made you want to be a distraction. He had been watching you from the corner of his eye for a while now, though he hadn’t said anything—probably waiting for you to admit defeat first.

"You’re brooding," he finally murmured, flipping another page.

You groaned. "I don’t brood."

His lips curled slightly, but he didn’t look up. "You do when you don’t get your way."

Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

He turned a page with an infuriating level of ease. Smug bastard.

"You heard me," he mused. "Something’s bothering you. You don’t want to admit it, but you also want me to figure it out for you. You’re restless, and I don’t like it."

You scoffed, pushing yourself up. "You don’t like it? Oh no, whatever shall I do?"

Sylus sighed, finally looking up at you, his crimson gaze dark and knowing. "Come here."

You sat up fully, arms crossing over your chest. "No."

His expression didn’t change, but you saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes. "No?"

You smirked, lifting your chin. "You want me? You come get me."

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if weighing his options. Then, without warning, he moved.

You barely had time to react before a shadow loomed over you, arms slipping around you with the kind of effortless strength that made resistance seem laughable.

"Sylus!" you yelped, squirming as he lifted you off the couch like you weighed nothing.

"Problem, kitten?" he murmured, the warmth of his breath brushing against your temple as he adjusted you against his chest.

You kicked your feet, half-heartedly shoving at his shoulder, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he sank back into his chair, pulling you down with him, settling you against him.

Your back rested against his chest, his arms lazily draped around your waist, as if holding you there was the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re ridiculous," you grumbled.

"And yet," he mused, resting his chin lightly against the top of your head, "you always end up right where I want you."

You huffed, about to argue, but then—you heard it.

The steady, unshaken rhythm of his heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Slow. Certain. Unyielding.

For a moment, you forgot why you had been restless in the first place. The world outside faded, the tension in your limbs melting into the warmth of his body. His heartbeat filled the silence, a constant, grounding sound that made everything else feel so small.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—his warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back, the way his fingers had started tracing small, absentminded circles against your ribs.

"You’re listening," he murmured, voice quieter now.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

His heartbeat was so steady, so sure. A deep, resounding thing that made you realize just how erratic your own had been all night. But now… now you were matching him, falling into the rhythm of him.

A breath.

A beat.

A moment.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve, gripping just a little tighter.

"...You’re annoying," you mumbled.

Sylus huffed a quiet laugh, his fingers slipping up to cup your jaw, tilting your face just enough for your eyes to meet his. "And you’re a brat," he murmured.

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Because his gaze wasn’t teasing anymore. It was soft. Intense in a way that made your stomach twist and your pulse stutter, despite the slow, grounding rhythm of his own beneath you.

"...Don’t do that again," he said after a moment.

Your brow furrowed slightly. "Do what?"

"Try to deal with things on your own when you don’t have to." His voice was low, serious. Final.

You swallowed hard.

Sylus was not a man who needed anyone. He was self-sufficient, independent, a lone wolf who had built an empire from the shadows. But with you, he let himself be different.

And this? This was him asking you to do the same.

You let out a slow breath, turning your face back into his chest. His heartbeat was still there, still steady, still constant.

Your fingers loosened against his sleeve, your grip no longer desperate, but something else. Something trusting.

"...Okay," you whispered.

Sylus let out a quiet hum, satisfied with your answer. His arm tightened just slightly around you, and for the first time that night, you weren’t restless anymore.

You listened.

To the crackling fire. To the distant city.

To him.

To his heartbeat.

And slowly, carefully—you matched it.

Xavier

The steady rhythm of Xavier’s heartbeat was the only sound you could focus on. A soft, constant thump-thump, thump-thump beneath your ear, grounding and unwavering. It was late—too late—but exhaustion had long since settled into your bones, making your eyelids heavy.

You hadn’t meant to end up like this, curled against him with your cheek resting over his chest, legs tangled loosely. It had started as a simple evening together, the two of you stretched out on the couch, basking in the rare quiet. The mission earlier had been grueling—physically and mentally draining—and you had been too sore to move much, content just to exist in Xavier’s presence.

He had been the one to pull you close, an arm draped lazily around your waist as if it was second nature. And now, as you lay against him, your body melting into the warmth of his own, you realized how easy this felt.

His fingers traced light, absent-minded patterns against your back, the touch featherlight, almost reverent. You could feel his breath ruffle your hair every now and then, slow and even. The city lights outside cast a faint glow across the room, flickering against the walls, but neither of you made a move to turn on the lamp.

"You're quiet," Xavier murmured. His voice was deep, a little rough, the kind of tone that made something inside you settle. "Tired?"

You hummed in response, nuzzling just slightly into his chest. "Mm. Comfy."

A soft chuckle rumbled beneath you, and you could feel his amusement more than you could hear it. "So, you're just using me as a pillow, then?"

You smirked but didn’t open your eyes. "You make a good one."

Xavier huffed, but his hand on your back didn't stop its slow, lazy movements. "Lucky me."

There was no teasing in his voice, though—just something warm, something fond.

It wasn’t often that you got to be like this with him. Unrushed. No missions, no battle wounds, no chaos pulling you in opposite directions. Just you and him, together.

And God, it felt good.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek, a quiet, comforting rhythm that made the exhaustion settle even deeper in your body.

Xavier didn’t push you to stay awake, didn’t urge you into conversation. He just let you rest.

And maybe that was what made it so easy to finally let yourself relax.

At some point, you started drifting.

It was slow, like sinking into warm water, the world softening around the edges. You could still hear him breathing, still feel the rise and fall of his chest, but everything was beginning to feel lighter.

And then—

A soft voice, close. "You gonna fall asleep on me?"

You made a vague noise of acknowledgment but didn’t move.

Another chuckle. "That’s a yes."

You felt him shift slightly, adjusting his hold on you, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, as if anchoring you to him.

"You’re warm," you muttered, your voice sluggish with exhaustion.

Xavier huffed out a breath. "You're barely awake and that's what you choose to say?"

You smiled against his shirt. "Mhm."

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, softer—quieter—"Good."

You might have imagined it, but his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair. A touch so light it almost wasn’t there at all.

You sighed, content, before finally letting yourself fall.

When you woke up, you weren’t sure how long you had been asleep.

The first thing you noticed was that you were still on Xavier’s chest, still curled up against him like you had never moved. The second thing you noticed was that he hadn't moved either.

His arms were still wrapped around you, one hand resting at your lower back, the other still tangled lightly in your hair. His breathing was deep and even, but you weren’t sure if he was actually asleep or just resting.

You shifted slightly, tilting your head to glance up at him, and—

He was awake.

His blue eyes, always sharp and focused, were soft as they met yours. There was no teasing smirk, no witty remark. Just quiet warmth, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

"Morning," he murmured.

You blinked, still groggy. "Is it?"

A small, amused huff. "No. But you’ve been out for a while."

You exhaled, stretching slightly but making no effort to move away. "Why didn’t you wake me?"

Xavier’s fingers ghosted against your back again, tracing idle shapes. "Because you looked peaceful."

You stared at him for a moment, then rested your head back against his chest. "...Still comfy."

This time, he laughed—a soft, real laugh, not one of his usual teasing chuckles.

"You just gonna stay here forever, then?"

You hummed. "Might."

His heartbeat was still steady beneath your ear, his warmth still pulling you under. And God, if it was up to you, you wouldn’t move at all.

You must have fallen asleep again, because when you woke up next, the lights outside had shifted. The city was still glowing, but the colors were different—softer, cooler, as if the night had settled deeper.

You yawned, stretching slightly before blinking up at Xavier again. He was asleep now, his face more relaxed than you had ever seen it.

And something about that made you pause.

Xavier never truly let his guard down. Even when he was exhausted, even when he was resting, there was always something about him that remained sharp. Always aware, always prepared for whatever came next.

But right now?

Right now, he was peaceful. His lips were slightly parted, his expression free of tension, his breathing slow and even.

And you realized, with a quiet pang in your chest, that he had fallen asleep because he trusted you.

Carefully, hesitantly, you lifted a hand to brush a strand of silver hair from his forehead. Your fingers barely grazed his skin, but he didn’t stir.

You swallowed, something unspoken tightening in your throat.

You were safe with him.

And maybe—just maybe—he was safe with you, too.

You smiled, small but genuine, before settling back against him.

"Sleep well, Xavier," you whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear you.

Then, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat, you let yourself drift off once more.

Zayne

The world outside had slipped into an almost unnatural silence, the kind that only seemed to happen in the late hours of the night when everything around you had finally fallen still. The air was crisp and cool, but inside, the warmth of the apartment wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You had spent the evening together—dinner, quiet conversation, and some small talk that had faded into comfortable silence. Zayne’s usual stoic nature had softened somewhat, allowing you a glimpse of the ease he usually kept hidden behind the layers of his professionalism.

The clock on the wall ticked slowly as you settled beside him on the couch. Zayne sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, his back straight despite the fact that he had obviously spent long hours at work. His three-piece suit was loosened now—the jacket discarded, the top button of his shirt undone, and his glasses resting casually on the coffee table in front of him.

You noticed the tension in his shoulders, how he unconsciously worked his jaw, as if the stress of the day was still weighing heavily on him. Even after everything he had done, the hours he had put in, he still couldn’t seem to let go.

Without a word, you shifted closer, your body naturally gravitating toward his warmth. Zayne didn’t seem to notice at first, absorbed in his own thoughts, but when you rested your head gently against his chest, you felt him pause.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet in the room was broken only by the soft hum of the city in the distance and the low sound of Zayne’s breathing.

Then, you heard it.

Thud-thud.

His heartbeat.

Slow, steady, and constant.

It was like a pulse that reverberated through his body, steadying your own. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it, how much you needed to hear it, until now. There was something about the sound of his heartbeat—something reassuring. Something grounding.

Zayne shifted, his hand slowly moving to your back, his touch light and hesitant at first, as though unsure whether he should be the one to initiate any sort of contact. But when he felt you settle against him, the tension in his fingers eased.

“You’re tired,” he whispered softly, his voice low and warm.

You hummed in response, not sure if you wanted to admit how exhausted you truly were.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Zayne’s hand moved slightly, his fingers brushing gently against your back, tracing light patterns across your shirt. There was no hurry in his movements—no urgency, just a simple, soft touch that seemed to say more than words ever could. The rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear grew louder, the thudding echoing in your mind as you closed your eyes, allowing it to lull you further into the moment.

His fingers brushed the nape of your neck, the motion tender, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the warmth of his touch in places you didn’t know you’d been longing for. The affection in his actions, the unspoken connection between you, was enough to make you feel more at ease than you ever had before.

Zayne was never one to show too much emotion, at least not outwardly. His professional demeanor kept him composed, distant even when he cared deeply. But in moments like this, where the world outside faded into a blur, it was as though his true self could breathe, and you could feel the softness beneath the armor he wore so often.

Thud-thud.

It was so constant, so unchanging. A reminder that no matter what the day had thrown at either of you, here, in this moment, things were calm. You were safe.

You pressed your ear a little closer to his chest, your cheek resting on the fabric of his shirt. The steady beat of his heart was becoming something you could depend on, something more constant than the passage of time.

“I’ve got you,” he said after a long pause, and even though it was a simple statement, it was one that carried the weight of his every unspoken promise.

You felt his hand move up, brushing softly through your hair, the action slow and deliberate. It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t forceful. It was just him, being present. Being there.

“I know,” you whispered back.

The room was so still, so quiet. Zayne didn’t speak again. He didn’t need to. His presence, his heartbeat, was enough to keep you tethered to the moment, to him.

You allowed yourself to settle even further, your exhaustion beginning to take hold in a deeper way now. But there was something else there too—a feeling of peace, of contentment that you hadn’t realized you were craving. His touch was the anchor that kept you from drifting into sleep completely.

When you let your eyes fall shut, the warmth of his body against yours seemed to blanket you in comfort. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the subtle movement of his body, and the weight of his hand against your back. Everything about him—the rhythm of his heart, the quiet of his breathing, the soothing motions of his hand—wrapped you in something that felt like home.

“Stay with me for a little longer,” Zayne murmured, his voice a soft plea in the dim light of the room.

You didn’t answer immediately, simply nuzzling closer, breathing in the familiar scent of him—clean, calm, and grounded.

There was no rush. No need to go anywhere.

It was just you and him.

The thud of his heartbeat was all you needed. It was enough to lull you deeper into sleep, into dreams where his presence remained close.

Thud-thud.

The rhythm of his heart.

And in that moment, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[darksturnz]

── ⋮ ⌗ “PRETTIEST MOMMA. . .” ⟢ BF.ᐟMATT ᵎᵎ

CONTENTS: little bit of everything-plot ・very suggestive, no actual p n v・thigh riding ・im ovulating n had a baby dream n im in mourning + more PART TWO HERE

The dream doesn’t fade.

It clings to you, wrapping around your chest like ivy, tight and suffocating. You can still feel the weight of it—of them—small and fragile in your arms, as if they were real, as if they existed at all. But they don’t. They never did. And yet the loss feels so tangible, so gut-wrenching, it has your throat tightening and your eyes burning before you even register waking up.

Your first instinct is to reach for Matt.

But his side of the bed is cold.

The soft click, click, click of his controller fills the quiet room, punctuated by the occasional muted sound of his game. Slowly, you blink the haze from your vision and turn toward the glow of his PC. He’s hunched forward, deep in concentration, his lip caught between his teeth as he stares at the screen. The cool-toned LED lights cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the focused crease between his brows, the slight twitch of his fingers, the casual set of his jaw as he plays. He’s completely unaware of your wandering eyes, completely lost in the match.

And you should just leave him be.

It’s stupid, anyway. Just a dream. Just a figment of your mind playing cruel tricks. But your chest still aches, and the bed feels too empty, and suddenly, all you want is the warmth of Matt’s arms around you, his voice low and tired, telling you it’s okay, telling you he’s here.

So you move without thinking, slipping from the bed with quiet steps, the cool wooden floor sending a small shiver up your legs. The oversized T-shirt you stole from him earlier barely covers the tops of your thighs, brushing against your skin as you approach.

Matt must sense you before he sees you.

His character ducks into cover just as he spins in his chair, brows drawing together the second he takes in your expression.

His voice is gentle, laced with sleep deprivation and concern. “What’re you doin’ up, sweetheart?” One hand tugs off his headset, tossing it onto his desk without care. His frown deepens. “Why—hey, are you cryin’? Baby, what’s wrong?”

You don’t answer, just climb into his lap, seeking out his warmth, his touch, him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, and your face tucks into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, something faintly woodsy, something safe.

Matt doesn’t hesitate, arms locking around you immediately, hands rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back. His leg starts bouncing, the motion steady and comforting, his chair swaying with it as he whispers soft, barely-there reassurances against your temple.

“I got you,” he murmurs, voice still thick with exhaustion. “S’okay. I got you.”

But something is shifting.

You don’t notice at first.

Not until the slow, rhythmic motion of his bouncing knee starts creating something else entirely.

It’s subtle—the barest friction, the softest drag of fabric against fabric. But you’re barely dressed, your thin underwear the only thing separating you from the heat of his body. And with each rise and fall of his leg, each thump of his foot against the floor, you feel it more.

The sharp ache in your chest melts into something lower, something deeper, something that coils tight in the pit of your stomach. You try to ignore it, try to focus on your sorrow, on the reason you came over here in the first place, but it’s impossible when every shift of his body against yours sparks something electric.

You’re not sure when your sniffles turned into quiet whimpers.

But Matt notices.

His movements falter for a fraction of a second, his arms tensing around you, his breath hitching slightly. He was about to exit out of his game entirely, give you his full attention, but then you let out the smallest, neediest sound, and it stops him dead in his tracks.

A slow realization settles in his eyes.

His fingers flex against your hips.

“Baby…” His voice is different now. Lower. Knowing.

You shake your head quickly, trying to move away, suddenly embarrassed by your body’s betrayal. But his hands tighten, holding you in place, keeping you right where he wants you.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow hard. “I—I had a bad dream.”

His thumbs rub slow circles against your sides, his knee still bouncing ever so slightly, just enough to keep the pressure building between your legs. “Yeah?” he hums. “What about?”

You hesitate, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, heat crawling up your neck. You feel so twisted for this. For craving him like this when your heart still feels so raw.

“I—I had a baby,” you finally whisper, barely audible. “And then—I lost it.” Your throat tightens. “It just felt so real, Matt.”

His grip twitches.

For a long moment, he just stares at you. His expression shifts—something unreadable flickering in his eyes, something dark and all-consuming. His fingers tighten on your hips, subtly guiding, subtly leading.

“A baby?” His voice is soft, almost mocking. “That what you want, sweetheart? Hm?”

You let out a shaky breath. The heat between your legs is unbearable now, the pressure teetering on the edge of pleasure and frustration, and you can’t help it—your body reacts before your mind can catch up, your head giving the tiniest nod.

Matt exhales a slow, amused chuckle. His eyes never leave yours, pinning you in place, making you feel small, fragile, desperate.

“All y’gotta do is jus’ ask, sweet girl,” he murmurs, one hand slipping to the small of your back, pressing you just a little closer. His lips brush against yours, teasing, barely there. “M’gonna make you the prettiest momma ever, ‘kay?”

authors note: ahem- “ I COULD BEEEEEEEE AAAAAA GOOOODDDDDDD MOTTTTHHHHHEEEEERRRRRRRRR”😢😢😢

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @chrisslut04 @owensbabygirl @sturnslutz @sturniqlo @sofieeeeex @jadasmp4 @ncm9696 @courta13

[loonylupinblack3]

Ex Boyfriend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: swearing, sort of attempted murder, slight spoilers for s4

Summary: you're spending the day at the beach when your ex boyfriend appears with his Kook friends.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: no turtles were harmed in this! also first ever rafe fic but im literally obsessed with him rn so.....

The waves were perfect, giant curls of water crashing down, creating a spray of sea salt hosing down anyone in its vicinity. The sun was shining, your deck chairs all set out, and you were ready for a day of surfing, sun baking, and hanging out with your friends.

“Those are some sick waves!” JJ whooped, kicking the sand in celebration.

You laughed along with him, unpacking the final board from the top of Twinkie and handing it to Kie. Dusting your hands you turned to survey the beach with an appraising look, eyes scanning the waves and the shine the sun casted on them.

You went back to the Twinkie and helped John B carry out the ice box, grunting slightly at the effort and receiving a teasing glance from the boy across from you. “Too heavy for you?”

You scoffed. “As if. I was the one who lugged the wood from Poguelandia for a mile when the truck broke down, remember?”

John B gave a tilt of his head. “Touche.”

The both of you planted the box by the chairs and opened it up, as many drinks as you could fit packed in among the ice inside. JJ snatched the first one and you chucked him the beer opener, a satisfying click accompanying the action as he opened the bottle.

Hand in the box to get one yourself, you paused when you heard the telltale growl of vehicles heading your way. You stood up, squinting into the distance as you spotted a line of cars driving towards you.

“You’re joking.” To your dismay you recognised the shiny, expensive cars as those belonging to the Kooks that shared this island with you. You scowled along with the rest of your group, eyeing the cars with barely disguised contempt.

“Keep going,” JJ muttered under his breath, eyes fixed to the line of vehicles as they passed you by.

Some attempted a pitiful chance at civilness, giving half hearted waves and strained smiles. Others saw the uselessness of it and kept their gazes ahead, pretending as if you didn’t exist. The worst were the ones who gave you the backlashing smiles and devil eyes, each glance a dig at you and your friends.

“Anywhere but here,” Kiara murmured from beside you.

You couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment, willing the cars to continue by without stopping. You wanted to enjoy the day, and you found the idea hard to do if there were a bunch of Kooks next to you.

You watched the cars intently, and felt a sharp stab of disappointment and frustration as you noticed them slowing down, rolling to a stop about 30 metres to your left.

“Oh you're joking,” Kie said. “Of course they stop here.”

You tried to smother the anger rising up inside you as you watched them start exiting their cars. “Why wouldn't they? When there's an entire beach.”

“We were here first,” Sarah pointed out, as if it’d help us. It didn’t matter if we were first or not. The Kooks got what they wanted regardless of what Pogues were in the way. You were all too familiar with that fact of life.

JJ shook his head and kicked the sand again, except there was anger in the action rather than excitement. “It's a waste of waves, if you're asking me.”

“Don’t let them ruin the day for us,” you advised. “It’s just what they want.”

John B let out a sigh but continued unpacking, and you felt relief in your chest. The last thing you needed was a fight to break out between the Pogues and the Kooks. You could be civil to one another. Hopefully.

It wasn’t long until you were all ready for the day ahead, the Twinkie empty and sitting to the side. You’d just sat down in your chair, drink in hand, when your gaze had strayed to the Kooks, wanting to keep an eye on them.

You hadn’t wanted to see Rafe there, settling down on a beach chair similar to your own, sunglasses covering his face. Even so, you could tell when he noticed you staring, the slight stiffening of his shoulders, his mouth curling into a small scowl.

You knew your own face was mirroring his expression and quickly looked away lest your emotions get the better of you.

“Great,” Sarah said, also noticing Rafe. “My brother’s here.”

All eyes were immediately on you and you resisted the urge to glower at them. Your friends were well aware of the relationship you’d once had with Rafe, a strange sort of understanding you’d shared that no one else could make sense of. They also remembered how it ended, with Rafe on the airstrip, demanding you not go on the plane to South America. You could still hear his ultimatum ringing in your head, ‘if you get on that plane, we’re done.’

You didn’t regret your decision. You’d choose the exact same if you had the chance. Your friends needed help. You’d never turn your back on them. It was just a shame that Rafe perceived that as you turning your back on him.

In summary, you were both harbouring hard feelings for one another, and seeing him there today did nothing to help your mood.

You cleared your throat, fingers clasped tightly around the drink in your hand. “Let’s just ignore them, yeah?”

If any of your friends noticed the tightness of your smile they didn’t comment on it, eager to go along with your suggestion and not allow the Kooks to ruin your day. That was until you noticed Topper heading your way and John B walking to meet him.

You let out a sigh, sharing a look with Sarah. None of you wanted a fight to break out, but you were all well aware of how much boys let testosterone lead instead of their head, these two boys in particular.

You were watching the rather tense conversation between them, too far to actually hear anything, when your gaze slid to Rafe. A hot flush went through you when you noticed he was already watching you.

You held his gaze, his eyes eating up the distance between you before devouring you yourself. Even from here you could spot the familiar hunger in his eyes, and you tried to tell yourself you didn’t enjoy it, clinging to the words even when your stomach flipped when he still didn’t look away.

“Y/n?”

Tearing your gaze away first felt like losing somehow, but you couldn’t keep blatantly staring at him after your friends called for your attention. So, with a strange feeling of defeat coating your mouth, you turned to Kiara, the girl watching you with an indecipherable expression.

You managed a smile. “Yeah?”

The girl hesitated, mouth slightly open as she thought over her words. Eventually she gave you a half smile, a knowing look in her eyes. “You gonna make that drink you learned in Chile?”

You grinned. After El Dorado you’d taken a month to travel abroad, spending some of your share of the small fortune you’d all managed to pull together. The other’s had been supportive of your wanting to leave. Even if they had never liked Rafe, they all understood what it was to lose the person you loved, and they shared your belief that some time away would help heal your wounded heart.

And it had helped. You’d forgotten all about him on your trip (mostly) and hadn’t thought about him (much) after you got back. 

“Sure will,” you said, “but be warned. This drink is strong. Not for the weak.”

Kie grinned back at the idea of a challenge, just as John B walked back to you, glowering but fully intact. 

To cheer everyone up, you decided making your drink would be a good idea, give them a challenge. All your friends liked a challenge. Plus, you wanted to see JJ chug a whole glass and regret it. The guy was good with alcohol but even he wouldn’t see this coming.

You hummed a tune under your breath as you prepared the drinks, singing along to the music blasting through the Kooks’ speakers. Even from here it was loud enough to hear the words and you quietly sang along as your friends relaxed around you.

“Alrighty,” you spoke, a tray of drinks in your hand. “Everyone take one, take one, there you go.”

When the tray was empty except for one last glass you took it and raised it in the air. “Ready? One, Two, Three!”

You didn’t even bother to take a sip, watching intently as JJ chugged the whole drink just as you expected. And just like you expected he became a spluttering mess, choking and coughing, making a whole big deal.

Loud enough to garner attention from the Kooks too. When John B followed JJ’s footsteps, apparently deciding JJ couldn’t handle it but he could, and also following in JJ’s footsteps of deeply regretting it, your whole group was laughing and cheering.

It was enough for the Kooks to take a peek.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Topper asked, walking over.

You looked past and found a trail of sorts of Kooks making their way to you, and with a jolt you realised Rafe was one of them. He wasn’t actually going to come over, was he? Yet he didn’t stop his procession and suddenly was standing right next to Topper and you had to fight to keep your eyes from straying to him.

“Trying out some drinks,” you said, because the rest of your friends had suddenly become mute. “I learnt a pretty good recipe when I was in Chile and-”

“You were in Chile?”

You stopped at Rafe’s words, the velvety lilt of his voice all too familiar. You finally let yourself look at him, finding him staring at you intently, a small frown plastered on his face. 

“Um, yeah,” you said. “I went for a bit of travelling.”

Rafe looked like he wanted to ask something else but held his tongue, gesturing for you to continue what you’d been saying previously. Hesitantly, because part of you was uneasy with Rafe standing right there, and the other part slightly nervous with all the Kooks’ attention on you – because they’d all come over now – you continued your story. You detailed where you’d discovered it, who taught you how to make it, and most importantly, the utter strength and devastation of the drink.

By now the Kooks were getting exciting, slapping each other on the chest and making bets of who could take it. They’d all seen JJ and John B’s display and wanted to try it out for themselves.

“You mind making a few extra for us to try?” Topper asked.

You hesitated. You'd always gotten along with Topper, and had spent more time with him than the other Pogues had – excluding Sarah, of course – because of his relationship with Rafe. Of course your view on him was different now, after the incident with him burning John B’s house down, but you weren’t as opposed to him as your other friends were.

As if also remembering the friendship you’d once shared, Topper gave you a smile, and you didn’t really see the point in denying them, especially if you wanted to keep the peace between the two tribes.

“Sure,” you said, with a smile only slightly strained. “I’ll start making another batch now.”

There were cheers from the group as you turned back to your preparation table, going through the motions of making the drink all over again. JJ appeared at your side. “You don’t gotta do this you know. We can tell em’ to get lost and that will be that.”

You were already shaking your head. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t mind. And if it keeps them from ruining our day all the better.”

JJ gave you a long look, eyes narrowed. He glanced at Rafe, milling about with some of the Kooks who’d stayed while the others went to grab more chairs. Apparently they were moving over here for the time being.

“And it’s got nothing to do with your ex boyfriend being here?”

You scowled at JJ. It was an unspoken rule that none of the Pogues mentioned Rafe or your relationship with him. They all saw how hard the break up hit you. JJ just loved breaking rules though. “No, it doesn’t. You should know as well as I do that pissing off Kooks does no one any good.”

JJ sighed, likely because you were right. “Yeah, but it’s so fun though.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you shooed him away from your work, focusing on re-making your drink. You had just enough supplies for a second batch – lucky, because you wouldn’t want to find out what the Kooks would do if you went back on your offer now – and managed to whip it up in less than 10 minutes.

“Alrighty, everybody take one – there should be some left over if anyone wants a second try – and brace yourselves.”

You found your heart was pounding as you passed the tray around the group of Kooks, getting closer and closer to Rafe before you found yourself standing face to face with him. He took the glass, eyes solely on you as he nodded and you passed him by, giving the rest of the Kooks their drinks.

You frowned to yourself as you placed the tray back on the table, only a couple drinks left, and picked up your own. What did that nod mean? Was it a polite nod, just to be civil, or had it meant something else? Had he been trying to tell you something with it?

You mulled it over in your head as the others drank, barely paying attention to their outbursts. They were even worse than JJ and John B though, you managed to pick up that, and the thought made you smile slightly.

To your surprise, after your drinks had been finished or forgotten by the Kooks, they stayed around. Sure, their chairs were further from yours – it wasn’t like you were all sitting in a circle around a campfire or anything – but they were close enough that if you wanted you could have a conversation with them without yelling. Maybe they were planning on having another drink of yours, or maybe they were just too lazy to move back to their original spot. Either way, it put you on edge, and you noticed it did the same to your friends too. Maybe giving them drinks hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

One of the guys – Kelce, if you remembered correctly – whistled, and it was only when he did it a second time did you realise he was whistling at you. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Get me another drink of yours,” he called out, resting comfortably in his chair.

You scoffed. “I’m not your maid.”

Kelce pretended to ponder your words. “Aren’t you though? I mean you’re a Pogue so-”

“Get the damn drink yourself if you want it Kelce,” Rafe snapped viciously, his body taught as he glared at his friend.

Immediately Kelce backed off, muttering under his breath, but he didn’t finish his sentence. He also didn’t grab another drink, so maybe he didn’t want it that bad. The tension between the two tribes rose after that, but you barely noticed it, eyes trained on Rafe.

He refused to so much as look at you. He’d just defended you in front of all his friends, and he won’t even look at you. You were pissed. Logically thinking, this shouldn’t have made you all that mad, but he was so confusing. He broke up with you and now he was defending your honour and speaking back to his own friends for you. What did it mean?

Eventually the Kooks started leaving, travelling back to their own domain, dragging their chairs behind them. You were relieved, but also disappointed. You were so wrapped up in everything Rafe; you didn’t want it to just end.

Except it was already over, you reminded yourself as you grabbed your board, intending to do a little surfing. Your friends followed your lead and headed out to the ocean to catch some waves. Even Sarah came, catching some of the smaller ones and cheering in celebration when she managed to ride it.

You were catching your own waves too, grinning at the exhilarating feeling of flying over the water, having the waves chase behind you. You could hear your own friends cheering, only elevating your mood, and you didn’t even remember you were sharing the beach with Kooks until you were waiting for the next wave, a rare lull coming over the water, and had them floating nearby.

You noticed Topper among them just as he did you and you gave him a hesitant smile. Topper returned it and moved over to you, taking his Kook friends with him. Your own muttered unpleasant words but didn’t outright tell them not to come over, so you found yourself floating on your board side by side with Topper.

“Been a while,” he commented, glancing at you.

You looked at the water lapping against your thighs that were spread across your board. You nodded your head. “Yeah, it has.”

He hesitated, glancing at your friends behind you. “How are you doing, with… everything?”

Everything being Rafe.

You shrugged noncommittally, unwilling to give the man next to you anything, lest it find its way to Rafe. “I’m good.”

Not exactly a lie. But was it the truth?

“It's getting big out there, huh?” JJ called, gesturing to the rising waves.

Topper nodded his head good-naturedly. “Sure is.”

“See that one?” JJ asked, pointing to the oncoming wave. It was an impressive one, slowly building to a height that beat all the others before it, promising a giant impact when it eventually crashed in on itself.

Topper let out a whoop and JJ grinned at him, though it wasn’t his normal type of grin. There was a maliciousness to it, one that made you uneasy looking at it. 

“Is that you?” JJ asked.

Topper looked at him, noticing his grin. He didn’t know him well enough to realise it meant he had ill intentions, nodding with a similar smile. “Yeah baby that’s all me.”

You floated closer to JJ, giving him a stern look. “JJ…”

He gave you innocent eyes, blinking at you. “What? Just being friendly.”

You scoffed, because you highly doubted it, but you’d learnt there was no stopping JJ when he was planning something. Still, you hoped it didn’t end with violence between the Kooks and the Pogues, like it always seemed to.

Topper readied himself for the wave, drifting closer, a tighter grip on his board. It was only when you noticed JJ doing the same thing did you realise his plan.

“JJ no-”

You were too late, the boy sailing on his board and cutting Topper off right at the last minute. There were shouts of dismay from the Kooks and you were tempted to join them. JJ could be so rash sometimes.

There were more disgruntled noises as Topper disappeared from view, appearing moments later sopping wet with a scowl on his face. Realising the civilness between the Pogues and Kooks was effectively over, you swam back to shore, dragging your board over the sand and dropping it rougher than needed on the ground.

It was time to leave. You didn’t want to be there to watch the eventual fight between the Kooks and the Pogues that was bound to happen. After what JJ did you were surprised they didn’t try to drown him in the ocean. 

Kiara was thinking along the same lines, helping you pack up the boards on the roof of the Twinkie before folding all the chairs. By the time the others came back from the ocean you were nearly finished, your spot looking unusually bare.

“Woah, what we doing?” JJ asked. “The sun is still out.”

You resisted the urge to snap at him. You knew it was just who he was, but sometimes, when JJ’s lack of thought affected all of you instead of just him, it was difficult to keep calm with him.

“We’d rather not be here when the Kooks go crazy,” Kiaria said shortly, somewhat forcefully taking JJ’s board from him.

JJ made a sound of displeasure, looking around at your friends. When he looked at you all you could do was shrug because Kie was right. It was better to be gone before they decided on revenge.

You were all finally ready to go when you spotted something strange in the sand. It seemed to be moving, as if there was something under it. You stepped closer and let out a gasp as a tiny sea turtle fought its way through the sand, its head peeking out into the world.

“It’s a hatch!” you called. “Kie! Quickly!”

The girl raced over to you and let out an excited shriek, looking at the turtles with awe. Your other friends surrounded them, watching as they slowly made the treacherous journey to ocean water.

“Look at these little nuggets,” John B said, kneeling down to get a better look at them.

Kiaria took a step back. “Wait, wait, back up, give them some space. You can’t touch them.”

You all followed her warning, taking a few steps back. You couldn’t bear to go too far back though, because the sight before you was so special you wanted to drink in every single aspect.

“We’ve gotta make a path right?” you asked, glancing at your friends.

John B nodded, following your train of thought. “Yeah, we need to make it safe. Get these footprints off.”

Kie started calling out orders that we all followed diligently, telling Sarah to look for seagulls and other predators while the rest of you tried to smooth out the sand for the turtles to crawl over.

“We should make like a highway,” John B mused.

You nodded. “A turtle highway.”

“A turtle highway!” Sarah cheered. “Come on kids.”

John B was in front of them, leading the way to the sea. “Come on, follow your human daddy straight to the ocean-ocean.”

JJ frowned. “Why do you get to be the dad?”

John B gave him a look, about to answer when you all heard the sound of the Kooks’ cars. You turned around and recognised Topper’s jeep heading towards you. You were surprised when you noticed Topper in the passenger seat, a girl that must have been his girlfriend in the driver’s seat.

Kie stepped forward, cupping her hands around her mouth as she called, “Hey! Hey stop! There's a hatch!”

The car drove determinedly towards you though, either ignoring or not hearing Kiara’s yelling. The rest of you joined in, waving your arms, shouting at the oncoming vehicle about the hatch right behind you.

“Let’s just get out of the way,” John B said.

Kiara scoffed. “No I don’t think so.”

So the screaming continued, as they got closer and closer to the hatch. At the last minute you all ducked to the side and the jeep drove past, barely missing you but thankfully leaving a wide enough berth for the turtles.

You thought it was over, letting a relieved breath loose, when the car turned around.

“No, no no, no.” 

The screaming continued. You planted yourself right in front of the hatch, a barrier, and refused to budge. Topper’s girlfriend noticed your savage stare, the tense set of your shoulders and seemed to choose you as her victim, heading right for you. For the hatch.

Your voice was hoarse from your screaming. How could they not hear you? You were certain the Kooks behind you could, and though the car’s engine was loud surely it wasn’t that loud. With all your voices put together surely they could hear something. Maybe they just didn’t care.

You stood still as the car came closer and closer. She’d stop. She’d have to. She couldn’t kill you. Your resolve was fracturing slightly, however, as the car proceeded forward with no signs of stopping or swerving. By now your own friends were yelling at you to get out of the way, but it was too late.

The car was right there in front of you, so close you could see the horror on Topper’s face and the sneer on his girlfriend’s, and then suddenly you were being pushed aside, a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped around you.

You hit the sand with a thud, feeling your bones ache as the impact hit you. Still, the arms around you stayed there, and it took you a moment to realise why they were so familiar. Because they belonged to Rafe.

The man was breathing deeply next to you, catching his breath as his grip never faltered.

“Let me go Rafe,” you said through gritted teeth.

The man scoffed, ignoring your plea as you both got upright. His arms were now firmly around your waist. “Why, so you can try to get yourself killed again?”

You scowled. “I wasn’t trying to get myself killed-”

“Really? Because you standing there doing nothing while a car headed right for you seemed like getting yourself killed.”

You spun around in his grip, face to face with him. You hadn’t been this close to him since before you broke up. From here you could see the specks of brown decorating the blue of his eyes, the eyes you’d loved so much. Still loved, if you were being honest.

“There was a hatch,” you hissed. “I was trying to protect it.”

“And that’s worth your life?” Rafe asked incredulously. He was staring at you so intently, eyes glued to your face as his hands slightly moved up and down your back, as if he couldn’t help himself. “You can’t do things like that Y/n.”

You felt the familiar anger rise up inside me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Rafe looked taken aback and angry at your words. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”

Rafe let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. He still didn’t let you go; if anything he held on tighter. “Are you serious right now? I just saved your life.”

You rolled your eyes. “They would have stopped-”

“Oh my god, Y/n, no they wouldn’t have. When are you gonna realise that? Huh? Not everyone is gonna take care of you out there like me,” Rafe accused, getting into that hot headed way of his.

You scoffed incredulously, pushing yourself away from him. His grip tightened for a second before reluctantly letting you go, though he did not look at all happy about it. “Take care of me? As in dumping me on an airstrip?”

“Because you left me!” Rafe burst out, looking harried. “What, I’m supposed to stay with you after you blatantly choose them over me? Do you just not value me as your boyfriend?”

You let out a frustrated groan. Sometimes you wanted to scream at him. “I didn’t choose you over them! They needed me.”

“I needed you,” Rafe hissed. “I needed you and you left me.”

You opened your mouth but paused. Rafe was being unusually vulnerable with you, even if it was disguised by anger, and you started to wonder if maybe he was missing you just as much as you missed him.

“I didn’t mean to,” you said quietly. You saw Rafe’s eyes soften slightly at the change in your tone, and suddenly everything disappeared but the two of you. There were no Kooks, no Pogues, no tension between them. It was just you two, standing on the beach, the unknown of your relationship hanging above your heads. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He was struggling to find something to say, half of him wanting to snap and tear you down, while the other physically recoiled against the idea of hurting you in any way. Eventually he sighed, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. “Why’d you have to fucking leave?”

“Why’d you have to make me choose?”

You both stayed silent after that, staring at each other. It was obvious you craved each other, missed the other's presence. But could you look past what had already happened between you? Were you able to look past the mountain of problems and pain you’d caused each other?

You desperately wanted to say yes, but you were scared he wouldn’t do the same. Still, you had to try, right?

You took a deep breath, fear making your throat clogged. “Rafe, I miss y-”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were crashing against your own, his hand already tangled in your hair, cupping your head. You melted into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck, desperate to be closer. After all these months apart the distance between you felt enormous, and you wanted it gone. Rafe seemed to think the same, forcefully tugging you to him, eliminating the space. 

He kissed your mouth like a man starved, lips harsh and bruising against your own. You felt heat enveloping your body, goosebumps rising with every swipe of his tongue in your mouth. Pleasure you hadn’t felt in so long was filling your mind, his lips satisfying a craving you’d spent so long trying to ignore.

When air became a factor and you pulled away for a breath he only let you go so far, having your forehead rest against his own. Being this close to him, this familiar, was making your heart ache with longing.

His hands wrapped around your waist and stayed there, now freely wandering up and down your back. He kissed your jaw, your throat, collarbone, anywhere he could as you caught your breath, like he just couldn’t bear not to be kissing you.

“Rafe,” you murmured. When he didn’t answer you said his name again, and a grunt escaped his mouth in acknowledgement, still kissing your throat. “I need to go.”

This made him stop kissing you, and he pulled back to look at you with an angry attitude. “What?”

You gestured behind him, where your friends were waiting by the Twinkie. They’d finished keeping the turtles safe as they went into the ocean, and judging by the calm if irritated air around them, none of the turtles got injured from Topper and his girlfriend’s semantics.

“They’re waiting for me.”

Rafe made a sound of displeasure, pulling you even closer, if that was possible. “You can stay with me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I can?”

Rafe discerned the second meaning behind your question almost immediately. You could stay with him, for more than just today? As his partner, as you’d once been?

The man let out a breathy laugh, pressing his lips against your forehead. “Of course baby. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[noonecareslol]

꧁ Pillows On The Floor

Bucky Barnes x F Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’ve had enough of waking up in your bed alone when it’s meant for two people.

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈：None really just pure fluff. BUTTTT this is my first fic written on tumblr so be nice pookies :)

༺༻

It started when you first moved into your shared apartment. You would put your pajamas on, wash your face, and pull the covers back to slip in your shared bed.

Well, it’s supposed to be shared. Instead, just like clock work, Bucky would take his pillow and blanket to lay on the floor. Every. Night. You understood why. He spent nearly 70 years in HYDRA’S harsh conditions. Being uncomfortable was all he’s ever known.

At first you let him be and it eventually became a routine. You would both get ready for bed before kissing him goodnight. You would slip into bed and he would slip into the blankets thrown on the floor haphazardly. Each night before turning off the light, you would ask if he would join you. But he always responded with the same stubbornness, “I’m more comfortable down here. I promise.” And with a squeeze of your hand, you would both go to sleep.

After about a month or two of the same nightly routine, you became sick of feeling the emptiness next to you. You would reach out for him during the night only to be met with one of your many stuffed animals. So, you decided to start sleeping on the floor with him.

“What are you doing?” Bucky questioned as you lay your pillow next to his. His eyebrows were furrowed and his sleepy eyes were squinty.

You place another blanket on top as you slide in next to him, “I’m going to bed? It’s nearly 12.” You attempt to fluff your pillow, trying to get comfortable on the hard wood flooring.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he propped his head on his elbow, looking over at you with his light blue eyes, “Y/n, i’ve told you i’m fine. You don’t need-“

“I know you’re fine. But I actually want to sleep on the floor.” You interrupted him and he could tell you were lying just by the way you haven’t stopped fluffing your pillow.

It’s not like the floor is comfortable. He knows that, you know that. But you aren’t doing this for him. You’re doing it because you don’t want to be the only one in your king sized bed anymore. And you’d rather be on the cold floor with him than alone on your bed.

Bucky sighed before flopping on his back. A small smirk played at his lips as you continued to mess with your blanket and pillow, “Whatever you say doll.”

You give up on your pillow before turning to face him, “It’s so comfy down here. It’s probably good for feng shui too.” You kiss his stubbly chin as you lie to him, and yourself.

“Feng shui, hmm?” He turns to face you, draping his cold metal arm across your waist. He pulls you close and your face buries in between his chin and shoulder, “I love you, Y/n.”

Your body warms at his touch, even with the cold floor pressing against you. He still makes you melt after all this time. You lean up and place a soft, loving kiss on his lips, “I love you too Bucky.” You cuddle against him and close your eyes.

Bucky smiles as you attempt to fall asleep. His hand reaches up to play with your hair. His metal fingers running through the soft strands. He waits and waits until your breathing finally slows and your chest rises and falls evenly before he gently sits up.

Careful not to make any sudden moves he slowly pulls the blanket off of you. A smile plays on his lips as he looks at you. Your knees are pulled to your chest at an attempt to keep warm and your hair is messily laid on the pillow.

He turns around and pulls the comforter and the sheet down. He fluffs up your pillows the way he knows you like and moves some of your plushies to make room.

Slowly he moves down, bending his knees as he softly scoops his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you to his chest. He steadily stands up, lifting you with him. You instinctively nuzzle into his chest, the warmth radiating off his body making you feel safe. He lays your legs down first as he slips you into the bed. His hand moves from your waist to the nape of your neck as he pulls the comforter over your body. Your eyes gently flutter open as Bucky places a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Shhh, shh. Go back to sleep darling.” He whispers as he sits on the edge of your bed. He’s moved his hand from the nape of your neck to your cheek, softly stroking your face.

Once your eyes close again he slowly starts to stand up, careful not to make any sudden movements when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist.

“No. Please, I want to sleep next to you. I feel safe in your arms Bucky. I don’t want to wake up clutching my teddy bear anymore.” Your eyes were a bit glossy, tears threatened to fall as your grip became tighter.

He sits back on the bed and places his hand on your thigh, “I don’t know Y/n. I don’t know if I can. I’m so used to being uncomfortable that its normal now.” He slowly rubs your thigh, reassuring you that he is okay on the floor. You’ve always been understanding about his trauma and it was one of the many reasons he fell in love with you so fast.

You give a small smile, “Can you maybe try? Just test the waters and if you don’t like it, you can go right back to the floor.” You’re pulling his hand now, tugging him to the bed.

He slowly nods before walking around the bed and slipping in next to you. He hesitates as he feels his head land against the pillow but you’re quick to wrap your arm around his waist. Your plushies are tossed off the bed now and you’re nuzzling into his side.

“It’s definitely more comfy than the floor.” He chuckles as he wraps an arm around you pulling you closer.

A pretty giggle escapes your lips and Bucky is quick to place a loving kiss on them. You hum contently as your eyes start to close. And as you fall into a deep sleep the last thing you hear is Buckys soft snores.

༺༻

a/n: Hey gang FIRST fic i hope you like it🙏🙏

[chloeangelbaby]

You don’t love me

Crybaby! Reader x Rafe Cameron

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It had been weeks of the same routine. Rafe was up early, gone all day, and by the time he got home, he was too exhausted to do anything but collapse into bed. You understood at first—Rafe worked hard, and running a company wasn’t easy. But as the days turned into weeks, his absence began to gnaw at you.

Tonight, you’d reached your limit.

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, when the craving hit. You wanted ice cream, something sweet and cold to take your mind off the void of Rafe’s company. You peeked into the kitchen but found nothing that would satisfy you.

“Rafe?” you called, walking into the bedroom where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Yeah?” His voice was tired, his eyes barely lifting to meet yours.

“I wanna go for a drive. We can stop and get ice cream or something,” you said, your tone hopeful.

Rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Baby, I can’t tonight. I’m dead on my feet. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

The casual dismissal stung. “No, it can’t wait,” you snapped, your voice rising. “You’ve been saying that all week! Tomorrow, tomorrow—what about me, Rafe?”

“I’m doing this for us,” he said, his tone defensive. “I’m not saying no because I want to. I’m exhausted, okay?”

You stared at him, your emotions bubbling over. Before you knew it, you were crying, your chest heaving with sobs. “You don’t care! You don’t care about me anymore!”

Rafe frowned, standing up. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“Fair?” you spat, your voice cracking as you stomped your foot. “What’s not fair is you ignoring me all the time! All I wanted was a stupid drive, and you can’t even give me that!”

“Dolly—”

“Don’t call me that!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Your words tumbled out in a jumble, barely making sense. “You don’t listen to me! You don’t care! You just… you just—”

You weakly shoved at his chest, your small fists thumping against him as you hiccupped and choked on your sobs. Rafe stood there, letting you vent, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to grab you or give you space.

“You’re mean! And, and… I hate you!” you wailed, though you didn’t mean it.

Finally, Rafe had enough. “Alright,” he said, his voice firm. He grabbed your wrists gently but firmly, holding them still. “That’s enough, baby. Stop.”

But you didn’t stop. “You don’t love me!” you blubbered, your head dropping forward as you sobbed uncontrollably.

Rafe sighed, pulling you into his chest despite your protests. “I love you more than anything,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But you’ve got to calm down, okay? You’re working yourself up too much.”

“I-I can’t!” you hiccupped, your body shaking in his hold.

“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Breathe, Dolly. Come on, with me. In and out.”

You tried, but the sobs kept breaking through, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Rafe scooped you up and carried you to the bed, sitting down with you in his lap. He started rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I just… I just wanted…” you sniffled, unable to finish your sentence.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know, baby. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend lately, haven’t I?”

You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of genuine regret. “You’re right—I haven’t been around enough. I’ll fix it, okay? Starting tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you mumbled, your voice small and wobbly.

“Promise,” he said, lifting your chin so you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “And tonight, I’ll make it up to you. We’ll stay up and watch whatever you want, or I’ll run out and get ice cream. Anything you need, baby.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Just want you…”

“You’ve got me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

Your sobs began to subside, your breathing evening out as Rafe continued to hold you close. You clung to him, your face buried in his neck, finally feeling the comfort you’d been craving.

“Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you more, Dolly,” he murmured, his voice a soft promise against your hair.

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[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

councilor!sevika x housewife!reader

sevika comes home after another tiring day. gladly, she has a good way of reliving stress.

tags: domestic fluff, oral (reader receiving)

it was well past 12am but your kitchen was alive, filled with smells of spices and meat. sevika was still not home, and recently she took a very annoying habit of staying too late at work. you couldn't blame her. maybe you were staying home all day and having all the time to enjoy yourself and work around the house but you were knowledgeable enough to understand how hard politics can be. so there's definitely not even a thought to voice any of your complaints to sevika.

yet, you couldn't stop to feel disappointed and dissatisfied the whole day, ever since you woke up late in the morning, sevika already off to work. it was unfair that you are unable to meet her while living in the same house and sleeping in one bed. and that's the exact reason why you were staying up late, waiting for her to come home. "i will not go through the day without seeing my own wife." you told yourself as you put on the apron about an hour ago to spend some time cooking so you wouldn't fall asleep by accident.

finally you hear a key clicking in the lock and a door opening. you smile to yourself but don't move from your place to meet sevika, the pan demanding your full attention.

sevika moves around the house, taking off her boots and outwear, washing her hands in the bathroom, before coming into the kitchen.

"give me a sec-" you don't finish your sentence, sevika surprises you by basically attaching herself to your body, hugging from behind and nuzzling into the top of your head.

"sorry i'm late." she mummbles and it makes you smile.

"how was your day?" you ask as you stir the stew on the stove.

"i work with complete idiots."

you can't help but laugh at sevika's attitude. she sounds like a pouty child, the sleepiness in her voice definitely adding to overall cutness of her.

comfortable silence hangs between you as you continue to cook and sevika just tracks your hand movements. she gets restless, you guess, when you feel her palms cup your breasts. sevika presses more into you and kneads your chest, her mouth coming down to leave light kisses on your neck. it tickles and you flinch away slightly. sevika just presses harder, your frame now caught between her and the counter.

"aren't you hungry, babe?"

she humms in agreement but doesn't let you go. "my meal is right here." it's probably the cheesiest thing you heard from her but you're so in love it works, something twirls in your lower belly.

you nudge her to the side to turn off the stove so the food wouldn't burn and face her finally. there're dark circles under her eyes, she definitely needs a better sleep schedule. the sight makes you frown.

"i hope it's your day off tomorrow, like you promised." you look at her with a stern look but cup her cheek gently, rubbing circles with your thumb.

"it is." sevika grins, there's a mischievous glint in her eyes. "planned spending it without letting you out of my grip". her hands rise back to your waistline, toying with the ties of your sweatpants under the apron.

there's a lot you can tell her. it's been a long day for both of you, especially sevika. she probably only had quick snacks on her brakes. she needs to sleep more. but how can you when she grew basically professional at seducing you.

treating your silence as a permission to continue, sevika slides your pants and underwear swiftly. suddenly you're in the air, held by her, as she places you on the kitchen counter.

"made me nervous there, doll," she huffs and squats down to place herself perfectly between your legs. "thought, i'll have to beg."

she starts slow, taking her sweet time to get you hot and wet. she squeezes your thighs while telling how her day went. the end of the year is coming and it seems everyone demands annual reports on her every move.

you really try to be an attentive wife and listen carefully to her stories but it's basically impossible when sevika runs her hands up and down your inner thighs, the contrast of temperature between her arms makes you shiver. you can help but gasp as the finger of her metal arm dips softly in the crease where your hip connects to the crotch.

"no, baby. don't block the view." she teases when your legs twitch, trying to close from the unexpected contact.

"sorry," you sigh. "just... weren't you so eager for this?"

"i am." sevika laughs and puts her head on your hip. "but don't you want to be a good wife and listen to what i'v been up to?"

and you do. of course, you do. but that's not really the reaction she waits from you. recently sevika's been set on a mission. begging wouldn't help in this situation. what she really wanted is you demanding things from her. you were too nice and sweet, usually considering other's wishes first rather than yourself. sevika finds it cute and cherishes that part of you. it's one of the traits that was important for survival in zaun, people being empathetic towards each other, always ready to help the community. but everything had it's limits and by sevika's judgment you needed to be selfish sometimes, specifically with her, because either way she was willing and ready to serve your every wish.

"vika, please." you whine.

"try again." she turns her head to kiss your thigh.

"fuck- you need to eat me out!" you finally give up, leaning further back, your head presses against the wall, hips thrust up to get closer to her mouth.

she doesn't let you wait a second more as she basically leaps forward and puts her lips on your pussy. your apron is still on you, sevika dips under it, hiding herself. she chuckles as you whine displeased and doesn't let you drag the fabric up for a better view.

there's a pause that's followed by a bite on your inner thigh. "use your words."

"wanna see, vika. let me see." there's a smile against your skin. she lays her lips back on your dripping cunt and reaches for the laces of your apron.

the sight is magical, you think. her face rubbing against you, nose already coated in your slick as she was teasing your clit, sliding up and down. sevika holds your gaze, taking in your reaction, and then just dives deeper, closing her eyes. her tongue is inside of you now. you cry out with pleasure, you legs closing around her.

sevika is so so so good for you. she can't move her head now, so she can only use her mouth. the tongue disappears from your hole and she just sucks on your clit. her puppy grey eyes are back on you, drinking in your reaction.

the kitchen is filled with your quite moans when she holds you there for couple more minutes. then she decides something for herself. the tip of her tongue on your clit. it dances lightly without much rhythm.

sevika once told you, she needs to try to spell the whole alphabet on your pussy and maybe it's the time for it. and if it is, you're not sure you can last through the whole thing, already too worked up.

"vika-" she raises her brows in question. "need to cum."

as she hears it, the pressure hardens, her tongue now laying more flat, trying to cover as much skin as she can. the sounds of her mouth and your drenched cunt become louder. you have to hold onto her head, pushing fingers through her hair, to steady yourself.

sevika doesn't stop, doesn't slow down as you reach the climax. "need to clean up the mess." she usually jokes, guiding you through the feeling and then some, becoming delirious with need to overstimulate you till you actually tell her to stop.

you slide down the counter when you finally catch your breath, legs shakey. sevika has to steady you, grabbing your elbow.

"i'm not letting you out of the bed till monday." you say, brining yourself closer, kissing her wet lips.

"can't say i'll be disappointed." sevika grins. you scoff under your breath and tug at her arm out of the kitchen, stumbling like a baby deer on shaky legs.