#this turned out pretty good for my first serious attempt drawing him

[tekkenenjoyerblue]

Iori Yagami manga panel redraw‼️ this was requested by @grievers-gunblade

Here’s the panel I referenced <3

[heeszn]

you ain’t my boyfriend ౨ৎ pjs four. thinkin’ bout you

jay anxiously taps at the menu, staring out the window. he arrived ten minutes early and had already ordered for the both of you (he texted you asking what you wanted).

jay likes to think that he was a cool, calm headed guy. he wasn’t the type to get nervous around girls. in fact, he would never bat an eye at girls. that was jaeyun or heeseungs job. and he would never admit this, but you’ve always piqued an interest in the man.

yes he was dating isa, but wherever isa is, you are as well. especially since you’ve been friends with the boys, excluding heeseung, since middle school. he’s always wondered how he’s never talked to or hung out with you before. especially since it seemed like you guys were so connected.

his train of thought was then interrupted by the noise of a bell ringing, signifying someone was entering the café (or leaving). he turns his head to see you standing there, eyes scanning the room to find him. and you do, the quickly ended eye contact was enough for a small smile to creep up onto jays face.

“hi pretty boy” you say, causing blood to rush to jays ears. he lets out a chuckle, “hi yn, you look nice”.

now it’s your turn to smile. “thank you jay, i think you look good as well.” the waiter, seemingly with perfect timing, then comes to give your drinks. the both of you then exchange how your drinks are tasty and that you’d totally order them again.

a beat of silence then follows, before you start the conversation thinking you should just get straight to business. “so, what exactly would i gain from your situation” you ask jay, catching him slightly off guard. he clears his throat, “um, one, it’d help with your jiung situation since he apparently despises me” and he thinks before continuing, “and two, you get a way better looking fake boyfriend”, he says with a toothy grin.

a giggle escapes your lips at his small attempt of a joke. “mmm, alright then”, you turn to your mini purse and pull out a notepad and a pen, “but first let’s lay down some rules”. you and jay thought it was a bit corny to do so, but also a bit necessary. just so that no ones feelings get hurt.

“okay, rule number one, don’t fall in love” you say, to which jay tries to stifle a laugh. “hey, it’s a common rule” you exclaim. “i know, it’s still just a little silly” he laughs out, to which you roll your eyes at.

and you continue on, laughing at each others propositions of what should be a rule. you only end up with the one rule, as the two of you couldn’t make up any other serious ones.

you draw two lines onto the paper, signing your signature before handing it to jay and telling him to do the same on the other line. he smiles at your seriousness of this rule before signing his ‘pjs��� down.

you rip the paper, fold it and place it in the untouched pocket of your mini bag. the only safe place for now.

once again, a pause of silence follows. “so i saw you’re a real fan” you say, eyeing him with a smile.

and so the afternoon continues on, the two of you getting to know each other properly and finding out you share similar hobbies and interests.

you don’t even realize how quickly time goes by until you finally check your phone and see that it’s 7 pm. “god, we should probably start packing up now, i think the waiters hate us for how long we’ve been here” you laugh out. “probably” he says, before helping you grab your things.

the two of you exit the café and before you can get a uber, jay’s already insisting to drive you home. as practice, he claims. and you fold easily, january wasn’t a nice time to be outside at night as the winds pick up and you weren’t in very warming clothing.

the drive seems to go by quick, or maybe that’s because you just can’t stop your conversation with jay. and next thing you know, he’s walking you up to your apartment.

“so, i’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow” he asks and you reply with a nod. “okay well, i’ll see you then” he smiles. “drive home safely” you reply, to which he gives a thumbs up as he’s already walking away.

that night, you lay in your bed, smiling as you recall tonights events. and little do you know, jay is doing the same.

previous | masterlist | next 🦴 — vee’snotes. SO SORRY FOR YAPPING 😭 anyw soft launch era let’s fucking get itttttt

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[radiant-reid]

The Gingerbread Competition

Summary: A gingerbread competition gets serious at the Reids

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist | Navigation

Like many families, the Reids have traditions. They have the normal ones, like the birthday boy or girl gets to pick whatever they want for dinner, but they also have... unique ones.

It would be easy to see the annual gingerbread decorating competition as a normal tradition. It's pretty typical for families to do, but like everything about them, the tradition is odd.

"Which kid are you picking?" Spencer asks, walking into the bedroom to see his wife pulling on a Christmas-themed sweater.

It's only 8 am, but the game has begun. And it's a serious game. It started years ago when they first got together. Spencer felt like he wasn't bringing enough to the relationship with his minimal familiar traditions, so he made her a gingerbread house, just as she was making her own for him.

As naturally competitive people, a contest broke out, and the bragging rights and accolades exponentially increased.

It's Y/n's turn to get the first pick this year, and she's been training the troop of children to ensure she wins, and takes the crown from Spencer. "Morgan." She decides.

It's a quick choice. Outperforming her siblings by age and the smallest number of legos put in her mouth this year, Morgan Reid brings dedication and competitiveness to the table. Plus, she's interested in chemistry like her dad, perfect for a baking challenge.

"Who's your first pick?" She prompts, stepping closer to him so they're toe-to-toe in the middle of the bedroom.

"Toby." He chooses.

As expected. "Oh, I know all about your secrets, Reid." She says, pointing a finger at his chest. "Getting him that bridge building set for his birthday, training up your own gingerbread structural engineer."

Spencer doesn't deny it, knowing he's been caught. "Yes because I know you would pick Morgan, so I figured why not build my own secret weapon?"

She laughs at his description of their sweet five-year-old boy. "I'm taking Eden."

He gasps, recoiling in mock shock. "Ouch. That's low, Reid. Taking my little baby."

"You call them all your little baby." She reminds him, although she knows what he means. In her three Christmases, Eden has been on Spencer's team every time. Even for her first Christmas, at four months old, she was on his team.

"Still, in your attempt to cause me emotional distress, you've left me with Toby and Aspen. Twins. They are unstoppable together. It usually freaks me out when they work out of the same brain, but it's a double threat."

She shakes her head slowly and menacingly. "You know what else they do well together?" He shakes his head. "Argue. Morgan's so good with Eden."

He groans, throwing his head back. "Shit, I knew we split them up for a reason." He recalls. "Can we swap?"

"Do you think this is wrong?" She wonders, clenching her teeth. "Drafting our kids so we can compete?"

Spencer wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her body into his. "No. They don't know, and we don't love any of them more or less."

"Yeah, okay." She acknowledges what he's saying. "Now, let's get out there so I can destroy you."

He chuckles. "And our five-year-old twins."

She grins, moving out of his grip. "You're all going down." She hums happily, gesturing downward with her index fingers. "Prepare to be defeated."

He grabs her hands before she can leave, pulling her body right back to him. "Not yet." He hums, leaning down to kiss her. She deepens the kiss with her tongue sliding into his mouth before pulling away quickly. "Tease." He moans, trying to draw her back in.

"Come on, loser." She says, dragging him out of their bedroom. "It's time for you to lose."

They walk out to the kitchen hand-in-hand, announcing the teams to the four kids sitting around the kitchen island, who are eager to compete and completely unaware they've been drafted by their parents.

Then the baking and decorating starts, complete with trash-talking and heavy flirting between Y/n and Spencer. There's some sabotage, of course, and what Spencer calls chemical warfare because of an intelligent move on Y/n's part to 'accidentally' switch the labels on the red and blue food coloring.

"Okay, are you guys done?" Y/n asks team Nobel- named that because of Spencer's influence, not the twins'- as they put the final details on their houses.

Eden and Morgan made great teammates, and team Winner's gingerbread house is, in their opinion, a winner.

"To win? Yeah." Spencer says, pushing their house forward.

"Okay, sit behind them." Y/n directs the kids into the camera view. They sit on the bar stools with wide smiles as they wait to have their picture taken.

Spencer stands next to her out of the frame. "Smile." He cheers. "Then a silly one."

Both pictures get taken and then sent to the official judge to determine a winner. "Can we eat it now?" Toby asks, smiling hopefully as all four of them watch the gingerbread in awe.

"Hmm, I don't know," Y/n says, looking up at Spencer with mock thoughtfulness. "What do you think?"

"I think yes." He decides, snaking his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.

The four of them dive in, breaking the houses down as they grab a piece to eat. "This one's better." Eden determines.

"They're made with the same recipe, little one." Spencer reminds her.

"No, our one's better, daddy." Morgan backs her little sister up.

He pouts behind Y/n as he walks them closer to the countertop, picking some gingerbread up to feed to her. "It's pretty good." She agrees with what Morgan's saying.

"That was ours," Spencer informs her.

Before she can tell him off for tricking her, her phone chimes. "Oh, we have a decision." She says mysteriously, stirring up excitement as she takes her phone out. They wait eagerly for the answer in silence.

Spencer reads the text message over her shoulder: My sweet godchildren! I miss you all so much even though I saw you yesterday. And you know I hate this job since I'm going to upset half of you so please tell everyone that I adore both of the houses the same amount. However, I am slightly leaning toward the one on the left. Have an amazing Christmas, wonderful Reid family xx

"Aunt Penelope says we won!" Y/n tells Morgan and Eden, who cheer happily.

"But she loves both of them," Spencer adds.

They walk around the bench to hug the four of them, each picking up two of their children and embracing in one big family hug. "Go team Reid." Y/n and Spencer say in unison, leaning forward for a quick kiss while they celebrate the perfect moment.

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[brightdarkness-2013]

Chapter 28: And Here It Comes!

Summary: The day of the attempted merge is drawing in.

Several days of what felt like wasted time. Several more days with Prowl making me learn his language rather than the other way around. Several days of Blaster laughing his ass off at me. I was about ready to throw in the towel. Sure I knew that I wouldn’t be gone for long if I did get frustrated enough to walk out, but it would be a great couple of days. I already knew how they would go. I would spend those days ignoring calls, listening to music, playing video games, and eating to my heart's content. Then I would come back and be back to this. But I wasn’t at that point yet. So here I was. Writing and rewriting symbol after symbol. Percy and Jack were having a field day with our notes on what these symbols translated to. I didn’t know exactly what they were doing with them, but I assumed they were trying to find a pattern or compare them to already know symbols and mer mythology or something. Whatever it was they were doing was going to be brought up to some serious big wig scientists and theorists at some point I was sure. Hopefully by then Prowl would be out of here and making a new home out in the ocean somewhere. I would miss him there was no doubt about that, but when it came around I didn’t want him being taken off somewhere and studied. He had already been through enough and he didn’t need anyone else poking and prodding at him.

“Ok. Done. How about we have some fun now, huh? Puzzles are great. Lets put together some puzzles. Or we can eat some candy. I’ll go get one of those mixed packs with kitkats, m&ms, and snickers.”

“Yeah he’s not going for it.” Blaster responded as he just shoved another carved coral piece at me before pointing to the seashell.

“Come on, Prowls. Doesn’t it at least Sound fun?”

“Jazz, your education is far more important than some candy and puzzles.” Blaster scolded mockingly. “You know if you learn enough words or at least get enough of them written down then we could write him a message to get him to understand that we’re trying to teach him Our language. And the more you get down the quicker that’ll happen. So get writing.”

“How about You waste all day writing nonsense and then ya can try and say that again.”

“It’s not nonsense. This is a real language of the sea here. And you’re the first to learn it so you should feel privileged.”

“Oh whatever. Besides as excited as I am that we could eventually speak to Prowl I really don’t want him stuck being interrogated and gawked at by people. I know the media would eat this up as much as some serious people in the scientific and marine fields, but in turn so would the public and… Prowl doesn’t deserve that. He’s been through enough.”

“I wouldn’t worry. Ratchet will keep people away if we can’t.”

“Yeah I suppose you’re right on that.” I laughed softly.

“After all this is a sanctuary for injured and ill mers. This isn’t a zoo you know!” Blaster did his best impression of Ratchet and I had to admit that lifted my spirits quite a bit along with pushing away my worry.

The people here were good. They cared for the mers. No matter how they acted they were worth protecting. No matter how damaged they were worth saving. Even if they seemed like they wouldn’t make it no matter what they did they would at least try. They wouldn’t let anything happen to Prowl. They’d fight it if they pestered him or tried to take Prowl away. I suppose this was why I liked the people here so much. The people here put some of my faith back in humanity. The faith I had lost through the years. What was eighteen years with neglectful and controlling parents compared to what I could do with the rest of my life? Sure most of the friends I would make here would be fish- mammals, but what did that matter in the long run? Maybe one day I could be fluent in Prowls language. At least writing anyway. Being able to talk to mers whenever would be pretty neat.

“So the big days tomorrow.”

“Huh? Oh. Right. I hope Prowl doesn’t rip their heads off or something. He really doesn’t seem to like them from long distance. I can’t imagine how he’s going to like them close up.”

“Eh. Prowl’s pretty level headed. He won’t go and attack them. I really don’t think it will end in violence this time around. I think the odds are good.”

“With how things are going I don’t think they’d hurt him either, but that leaves things up to Prowl and ya know how stubborn Prowl can be. If he says no he Never changes his mind.”

“Bribe him with a few m&ms every once in awhile to be nice and see where it goes.”

“I don’t think that will work out. If anything he’d take them anyway and still say no. He’d think I owe him for putting him in that situation.”

“Oh yeah. Well prepare for the worst and hope for the best then. The sooner he makes nice with one of the other pods here the sooner he gets out. Well after he teaches you how to write.”

“I know how to write.”

“Well he doesn’t think so. And what I mean is if things go well then we might have some more time with him to teach you his language. He’s the only one that’s actually tried or at least been willing to try and teach the language. At least to our knowledge. Maybe there is someone out there speaking and living with the mers or whatever, but this will be the only time it’s documented.”

“Who would have thought my seeing Prowl on a rock back in highschool would lead to this?”

“I know. Life really is something else.”

“The funny thing is I really thought that Prowl was an annoyance back then. I was walking home and then I ended up feeding him because he was too injured to hunt. Now I can’t picture my life without him there.”

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Masterpost

[marshallpupfan]

Hopefully this isn't too weird or invasive a question, but I'm curious what draws you to Paw Patrol as an older fan, and also what your experience has been like in the fandom and as a collector? (I'm assuming you're an older fan and probably close to my age from the non-Paw Patrol media you share haha).

I am indeed one of its older fans, and I can think up a few reasons that keeps drawing me to it.

One I can say right away is the fact I have a big love for canines, thus I tend to gravitate towards anything with dogs (and wolves, depending on if they're heroes or villains). They make up plenty of my favorites characters, as some of you seen in one of my previous Asks, and I generally tend to enjoy things more when they're involved (a friend recently recommended an older game to me, which I enjoyed all the more because you got to travel around with your trusty dog).

Funnily enough, not too long ago, I took an interest in the Asterix and Obelix franchise because of its dog character, Dogmatix... and I was quite thrilled when I heard he was getting his own spinoff cartoon! Of course, it was only available in French at the time, but much to my luck, the first half of season one got dubbed in English and [officially] posted on Youtube, free to watch! I gave it a go, and I thought it was pretty good! If anyone's curious, click this link to check it out. And yes, this might've been a thinly-veiled attempt to talk about this cartoon somewhere, since there aren't many English-speaking fans. lol

Arquebus/Musketix is the best character.

But yeah, the pups are one of my biggest draws to PAW Patrol, and unlike some fans, I rather like it when other pups get added to the cast. Boomer and Claw both certainly helped renew some of my interest in the franchise, particularly during a time in which I felt things were going downhill. Hey, I just love dogs!

Obviously, Marshall's easily my biggest draw to PAW Patrol. I'll admit, I tend to take a far bigger interest in an episode when he actually gets some good attention... and it's why my interests start to wane when he doesn't. The dude's legit my #1 favorite animated character, so I suppose it's no surprise to hear I often tune in specifically for him. That's not to say I don't get enjoyment from the other pups, but I'm just so crazy about that spotted pup!

Another aspect that draws me to PAW Patrol is just how fun it tends to be (or used to be, but the modern seasons still have their moments). I don't want to go too deep into this because I don't want things to get too serious, but let's just say... life can be quite rough anymore, and it never seems to get much better. I often look for something that can help me escape that for a while, even if it's just for a half hour at a time. I found that PAW Patrol does that for me. It's cute, colorful, fun, doesn't try to be complex, and by the end, everything turns out okay. And if I need cheering up after a bad day, a certainly clumsy, spotted pup often always puts a smile on my face. Some days, I need that.

----

As for my experiences with the fandom, I'd say it's been largely positive. I do tend to meet a lot of friendly people, many of which tend to be supportive and/or cheerful when I need it, and I generally enjoy interacting with most of them right back! I certainly don't regret being a part of it for the last five years or so.

With that said, I've had encounters that certainly weren't pleasant. I think everyone knows about my copycat by this point, so no need to retread that old ground. There's one infamous user out there who just seems to hate everything (unless it involves Everest), and he often turns hostile if you don't agree with his opinions. The same dude even tried arguing and verbally attacking those who work on PAW Patrol... including their families, too! Crazy guy. I've also encountered some fans who seem to make stuff up, believe their headcanon to be fact, and then become angry when people don't agree with them. I once had someone tell me Ryder is "gaslighting" Rubble, and... I don't even want to know what that means or why they believe that.

And in-regards to being a collector, the reception I often encounter has been quite positive, too. Most fans really seem to enjoy seeing my collection, even if it's just out of curiosity to see just how much merchandise they made of one single pup. I still get compliments on it all the time, from both fans and non-fans of Marshall, and I've even seen other folks who just think it's legit cool.

Surprisingly, I've only had one negative encounter so far, and it was, believe it or not, from someone who used to be a fan of PAW Patrol. She became one of those folks who encountered bad users, got tired of them, and then decided every fan must be awful... and of course, she tore into me because I "talk too much" about Marshall and deemed me a "freak" for collecting so much merchandise. Most of what she said was largely laced with swears and insults, and I'm sure she believes she put me in my place or something... though in truth, I was laughing at most of her replies. Why she felt the need to throw such a temper tantrum on me, I'll never know, but she didn't succeed in even the slightest to discourage me or anything. lol

[khaleesa]

Writing prompts: 11!

I haven't written a word since I finished Guidance Counseling, but this prompt ("just once") finally inspired me! Thank you for submitting it! And thanks to @bratanimus for giving it a once-over. <3

==

Tomorrowland

The rocketship slide, layered with decades of chipped paint and rust, would've been a better vantage point to watch the Creel house for the signal, but Chrissy couldn't bring herself to approach it. Eddie, on the other hand, thundered up the metal slide like an overgrown boy showing off on the playground--which was probably exactly what he was doing. Goofball. She had no such urge and was drawn instead to the ramshackle picnic table tucked beneath the sheltering canopy of the old sugar maples, near a light post that she hoped to God still worked. It would be dark soon. 

In spite of the very serious--not to mention scary--circumstances that brought them here, she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips as she watched Eddie flail and narrowly avoid falling off the top of the slide when he attempted to crouch beneath the child-sized opening of the rocket. The hatch? It was so weird how they barely knew each other--had never talked before last Friday--but somehow he could make her feel comfortable even in truly uncomfortable situations. 

He bumped his forehead on a metal bar, swore, and rubbed it dramatically as he turned to face her. 

"Laughing at my misery, Cunningham?" he called down to her. "I knew it--you're a sadist!"

"I am not!" Chrissy retorted, groaning inwardly at how lame that sounded. 

They should probably be more quiet; the team inside had planned on absolute silence until the time came to draw out Vecna. Could he hear beyond the dilapidated walls of the old house? 

A shudder rippled down Chrissy's spine. She didn't want to think about Vecna yet. It was hard not to, though, with the darkened windows of the run-down house staring like hollow eyes in skeleton faces. She was glad she wasn't looking at them dead-on. She didn't like how they seemed to be fixed on Eddie. 

Scary as it was, the Creel house also made her feel heavy with sadness. Once upon a time, it had been pretty. Ladies wearing dresses with puffed sleeves and trailing skirts and hair pinned up in elegant styles had sipped tea in the front parlor, while children in lacy pinafores and knickerbockers played in the garden. Later, in the fifties probably, someone had built the space-age playground. It would've looked a little like Disneyland, with pastel Victorian Main Street, USA perched just around the corner from Tomorrowland. There was nothing magical about this, however--except for back magic. The Unhappiest Place on Earth. 

"You okay?"

Chrissy's gaze darted from the house back to the slide, where Eddie stood at the top of the stairs, frozen with that same look of concern that had taken her so much by surprise that day in the forest. You okay? he'd asked then, too. Other people had asked that since she’d started having her episodes--Jason, her friends on the cheer squad--but Eddie was the first one who'd actually seemed to give a damn, to make her feel like maybe she could explain, and maybe he'd get it.

If he hadn't exactly gotten it then, he definitely did now. Chrissy felt just terrible that she'd dragged him into this horror movie that her life had become. Even if he did work awfully hard to make people think he was mean and scary. 

He didn't look scary now, though. He just looked…scared. Like he thought her eyes might glaze and she'd start levitating again, and this time…No. More things she didn't want to think about right now. 

Maybe she could do what Eddie was so good at. Make him feel comfortable. 

She sat up straight--no easy feat on the bowed and off-balance picnic table bench--shoulders back, chin raised, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm a little offended that you think I'm a sadist." 

Eddie barked out a laugh and bounded down the slide steps, skipping a few, and over to the opposite side of the picnic table. He slapped his palms on the surface and leaned forward, eyes dark and gazing down at her. Chrissy had read about men flashing lascivious grins before; now, she finally had a real-life picture of what that meant.

"I didn't say sadism was a bad thing." Eddie's grin somehow grew even wider as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Did he hear how sharply Chrissy drew in her breath? Could he see the flush that prickled like a sunburn across her cheeks and ears? Thank goodness for the long shadows cast by the sunset, and that the light post over the table still hadn't turned on. She wracked her brain for a clever response, but Eddie leering down at her was too distracting, and she was totally out of her league when it came to knowledge from dirty magazines and movies. Anyway, Eddie seemed thrilled to have rendered her speechless. Somehow, this didn't make her feel dumb, like Jason did when he knew things she didn't. Eddie just got a kick out of scandalizing her, or corrupting her innocence, or something. 

And over the last couple of days, Chrissy was learning she got a kick out of being scandalized, or corrupted, or something by Eddie.

The light mood didn't last long. Eddie's grin faded as he trudged around the picnic table to straddle the bench next to her. For a moment, they contemplated the Creel house in silence. Eerie silence; no doves cooed in the tree limbs above, no crickets chirped in the unmowed playground grass. Chrissy was about to comment on how weird this was, when Eddie spoke, a cigarette clenched between his teeth. 

"Me and the band…" He trailed away as the lighter snicked and the end of the cigarette flared.

Although Chrissy wasn't a fan of stale, old cigarette smell, she liked fresh smoke. Now, it brought the reassurance that she wasn't the only living thing here, that Eddie was warm and alive beside her. She felt herself shifting a little closer to him, her knee bumping one of his.

Pocketing the lighter, Eddie took a drag, then removed the cigarette to exhale, smoke wreathing him as he went on. "We always talked about having this dump as an album cover. Or shooting a music video here. It's creepy as shit."

Chrissy nodded her agreement. "I feel kind of silly for ever thinking the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland is spooky." 

Eddie blew out another puff of smoke. "You've been to Disneyland?" 

"Just once. Have you?"

"Nope." He popped the p definitively; it almost seemed to echo in the quiet of the playground.

"It's probably not your kind of place." 

Eddie sat back, a deep frown tugging at his features, buckling his forehead. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" 

Chrissy flushed as she realized how that sounded. Not like she'd meant it at all. "Just that it's cheesy fantasy stuff. For kids." 

Eddie's shoulders relaxed, and a grin slanted across his face. "Cunningham. What do you think Dungeons and Dragons is? Honestly, Disneyland sounds right up my alley." 

That wasn't exactly in line with how he and Dustin had explained Dungeons and Dragons to her, but Chrissy was just relieved he wasn't offended anymore. "But you wouldn't think the Haunted Mansion is even a little bit scary," she said. "Not compared to all those movies you like." 

Eddie seemed to consider this as he smoked, turning his head toward the Creel House. "After this week, I think maybe I've had enough horror shit." 

Chrissy's heart gave a squeeze in her chest, but before her guilt could take hold, Eddie's fingers closed around her knee, and she found herself looking into his dark, glittering eyes again. 

"Tell you what," he said. "If I graduate? We're going to Disneyland." 

An image sprang into Chrissy's mind of the two of them strolling toward Sleeping Beauty Castle, Eddie in denim and leather and chains and Mickey Mouse ears. But that wasn't what made Chrissy let out a shriek of delighted laughter, then clap her hand over her mouth lest Vecna hear them or Eddie somehow read her mind and think she was making fun of him. Or it wasn't only that. If I graduate, he'd said, not, If we make it out of this alive. Graduation came after. They would have an after. 

"Not if you graduate, Eddie," she said. "When." 

Eddie smiled--not the maniacal, teeth-baring grin, but biting his lip, ducking his head, hair falling in his face. He leaned in, close enough that Chrissy could smell the cigarette on his breath. She wanted to taste it on his lips. 

"And, uh, if the Haunted Mansion gets too spooky for you…you can…" His tongue darted out to lick his lips. "...hold my hand." 

His gaze dropped, and Chrissy saw his hand had moved from her knee, close to hers on the bench. His pinky touched the side of her hand. She flicked hers out to touch it. 

In the dormer window of the Creel house, a light flashed on, and they both sat up. The signal.

"But I'm the one who'll probably be shitting my pants," Eddie rasped.

Gripped with a sudden courage and decisiveness, Chrissy stood up. "Then you can hold my hand," she said, and twined their fingers together. 

~*~

If you'd like a fic, drop a prompt in my asks!

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Dark Prophecy: Chapter 16 (SPOILERS)

"In my four thousand years of life, I had searched for many things . . . and a 1958 Gibson Flying V." Image below. They sell for ~$9,999. Apollo's fine with $15,000 Tater Tots but draws the line at a rare $9,999 guitar.

"If we die here, I'd just like to say you aren't as bad as I originally thought." Aw hey, they're making progress.

"And alas, I was all out of Tater Tots." I love how his Plan B is to try negotiating with the Tots. Actually, those are pretty pricey. Maybe he can pay his own ransom money with that.

"Good cheap labor is terribly difficult to find." [Insert comment about inhumane Chinese factory wages here]

"My friends call me Lit, but my enemies call me Death!" That's not nearly as cool a line as you seem to think it is.

"I changed my mind. First, that roof collapsed on me." Fair counter. If anything were to change your mind about taking someone alive, it would be an attempt on your own life. "Then my bodyguards got swallowed by a stand of bamboo." Say what now? I was wondering why Lit was here but the Germani weren't.

"My pulse boomed like timpani" TIMPANI (n.): kettledrums, especially when played by one musician in an orchestra

"Surely Zeus would intercede." They're probably going to find a way out of this situation before it becomes too close of a call, but if Apollo were to actually die, I think Zeus would actually intercede. At worst, his intentions for Apollo's punishment might be to live and die permanently as a mortal, but dying a month into his punishment might cross the line there. Besides, if Apollo died, he'd have to find a new Sun god.

"the crossed blades of Meg McCaffrey." Knew it would be her. They've been building up the anticipation with the plants.

"Hyacinthus the time he wore that amazing tuxedo on our date night" They... did not have tuxedos back then. Whatever, Apollo has the gift of prophecy. Of course he would use it for little things like this.

"THIS is Meg?" Oh yeah, forgot they've never met. I bet Apollo's been hyping her up and all and with the way he embellishes stories, Calypso at this point probably thinks she's some great hero to rival Hercules.

"Yep . . . You're stupid." Very Meg. "Now she would stay by my side" These very words instantly convinced me that she would not stay by his side.

"Now it was clear that our master-servant relationship could not be so easily broken." Okay, so even Meg can't release Apollo from her authority.

"no child can match the Reaper of Men." Okay, so once he said this to Meg, I started wondering how old Lit was and after some Googling and being careful to avoid spoilers, I found everything I need to know about him except his age. He's also a child of Demeter! Meg's bro! That makes "Reaper of Men" a marvelous pun. He has a sister named Zoe, unrelated to Zoë Nightshade. Also, his Wikipedia page is depressingly short and part of his fandom wiki page is literally a copy-paste of the Wikipedia article. According to Wikipedia, he challenged people to harvesting contests and beheaded the contestants when they lost. Guess he's really good at that. Then Hercules came along and turned the tables on him and that's how he died. Apparently the PJO series is the only ever piece of pop culture poor Lityerses appears in. I still don't know his age.

"leaving Calypso behind to the blemmyae . . . I'd like to say that wasn't a serious thought, but it had been, however briefly." Wait, he was serious about that?!

"run over by a herd of armored ostriches." THE OSTRICHESSSSSSSS! Man, Lit's really taking a beating today. First he gets run over by a roof and then he gets run over by a bunch of big birds. Now I see where he gets all the scars from. Does this happen regularly?

"She howled in rage and the net blasted upward, ripped from its moorings" She does still have magic? Holy shit, she can do more than sing!1!!1! She seems surprised by it afterward, though. Has this never happened even once when she was in the Sea of Monsters? Surely she'd be in equally dangerous situations. Or maybe she's surprised she was able to conjure enough power to rip out the whole net.

"I was quite content to be annoyed, once again, by Meg McCaffrey." I like this ending line. I dunno, I just like it.

Also, this chapter made me realize that the cover art is not, in fact, the two of them flying under a bridge. That's netting and if I looked closer, I would have seen the arena. So sue me, the blue looked like water. I just thought the ostriches could walk on water.

[thebonerpit]

Name: Tara Lavellan Nicknames: Tara is a nickname, her full name is Tarasylanin (“child of the storm”) but no one calls her that except her Keeper Age (at the start of DAI): 30 Age (current in 9:54 Dragon): 43 Gender: Female Pronouns: She/her/they Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Race/Background: Dalish elf Class: Rogue, twin blades Specialization(s): Tempest Alignment: True neutral MBTI: ISTP – The Virtuoso Strengths: Quick wit, curious, insightful, playful, inventive, creative Weaknesses: Has little interest in leadership, can be judgemental, private to a fault, often doesn’t take things seriously Body Type: Very slim, average height, long willowy limbs Eyes: Green and gold Hair color/texture: Strawberry blonde, wavy, shaved on one side Complexion: Olive and very freckled Lookalike (if any): A mix of Cara Delevingne and Dichen Lachmann (I could only do so much to recreate this in cc)

Romance: Solas, was curious about Bull but it didn’t go further than flirting Usual Party: Solas, Dorian, Bull Friends: Dorian, Sera, Cole Neutral: Cullen, Josephine, Cassandra, Varric, Bull Distrust/Dislike: Vivienne, Blackwall

Mages vs. Templars: Allied with mages Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts: Celene and Briala reconcile and rule together, Gaspard executed Here Lies the Abyss: Grey Wardens exiled, Stroud stayed in the Fade What Pride Had Wrought: Morrigan drank from the Well Divine: Leliana (hardened) Trespasser: Disbanded Inquisition, attempt to redeem Solas

More about Tara's companions below...

Solas: Tara was intrigued by him from the beginning but also found him a bit stuffy. Once they got to know each other more and his flirtatious/cheeky side came out she fell for him pretty quickly. She had always loved to draw and paint when she was with her clan, so she often went to sit with him while he painted the frescoes in the Rotunda. My headcanon is that she even helped him paint sometimes. She allowed him to remove her vallaslin and she was absolutely crushed when he broke things off, but she could never bring herself to be angry with him. It's foolish, and she knows it, but she wants to save him from himself. Cassandra: She can’t deny that she thought Cass was super attractive right from the beginning but all her Maker talk and serious demeanour kind of turned her off. In the end, she does have a good amount of respect for her even if they don’t agree on everything. Varric: She found his lack of conviction a bit annoying, but he does have a good heart, and she loved listening to his stories. Dorian: Immediate BFFs. His personality just enchanted her and they flirted constantly. As someone who is really interested in magic she was very impressed with Dorian’s skills. He sometimes created little wisps in the form of forest animals for her, to help her feel less homesick. Bull: A very reasonable mix of fear and arousal tbh. She liked Bull, especially after meeting the Chargers and side mission, but knew it would be hard to ever fully trust him. Dorian and Bull do flirt and maybe hook up but she worried about Dorian with him. She knew he needed someone who is completely dedicated to him and didn’t think Bull could provide that. Sera: Her second BFF. She liked Sera instantly, how fun and silly she was, even if she didn’t understand her dislike of the Dalish at first. After she got to know her more, she started to understand why Sera felt the way she did. They argued about it sometimes but came to an understanding eventually. Sera kept her grounded, and was a welcome relief from nobles and responsibilities. Cole: Whenever Tara was overwhelmed she’d go up to the attic of the tavern and just sit in silence with Cole. He was comforting, if a little strange. She followed Solas’s advice and made him more spirit and while it was a bit sad to see him drift away, she knew he was at peace doing what is in his nature: helping people. Cullen: Cute, but too serious for Tara. She appreciated his military and tactical knowledge since she barely had any herself. Secretly wants him to pull his head out of his ass and realize he’s got feelings for Dorian. Leliana: Kind of unintentionally hardened her. Tara very much felt like she didn't have the authority to interfere with how Leliana did things, so she let her be more cold and calculating. She supported Leliana as Divine because she agreed that the whole lot needed to be thrown out and changed and she knew Leliana was capable of doing something good with it. Josephine: As someone who is really not into human politics and court intrigue and nonsense, Tara and Josie don’t have a lot of common ground. But Josie was so sweet and helped the Inquisition immeasurably, so Tara really respected her. Vivienne: Similar to Josephine but magnified x10 plus her support of circles means she did not get along with Tara whatsoever. They maintained an icy distance as Tara knew she needed Vivienne’s skills and connections. Blackwall: He was almost a father figure to her at first, and she loved to hear stories about the famous Wardens, but after his reveal she couldn’t look at him the same way. She couldn't leave him in prison but she felt it was only right to turn him over to the Wardens, even if that potentially meant his death. Luckily he survived his Joining and Tara is glad he'll have a chance to make up for his lies, but their relationship was never the same.

[valleyrunearchives]

Binary

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Pairings: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Chapter 20/?

“Binary code is a series of zeroes and ones strung together in a specific sequence. On paper, it’s useless. Annoying. Worthless. But put that same string of zeroes and ones into a computer, and suddenly it’s a language far more complex than the human mind can comprehend. I was the same way. The world decided I wasn’t good enough in the physical plane, so I went digital. That’s why I chose the name Binary. And you should be very,” He smirks at the underground hero on the screen, “Very afraid of the reach I have here. Aizawa Shouta.”

Or

Midoriya Izuku is tired of the world treating him like nothing. So he decides to becoming a hacker to show the world that nothing can be anything.

Featuring Midoriya Izuku as the Genius Hacker Aizawa Shouta as the problem child wrangler Yamada Hizashi as the moral support to his husband Tsukauchi Naomasa as the man who needs a long vacation PLEASE Shinsou Hitoshi as the intentionally adopted one Toga Himiko as the unintentionally adopted one Dabi as the really didn’t want to be adopted one but he guesses this is his life now and Nedzu as the Rat God of UA

Previous | First | Next

Click here to Read on AO3!

Hitoshi is careful when pouring his attempt at cake batter into the pan. He doesn’t want to lose any of it and baking is still pretty new for him. He’s trying so hard not to mess it up. A mix of boredom and waiting for Izuku and Himiko to finish whatever they were doing resulted in this. Dabi also was not very available for company the last little while. A mixture of his appointments with various specialists and searching for a small part time job to pass the time when they go into high school apparently. 

He had tried a couple of other things to pass the time but nothing stuck. Not painting or drawing or knitting. Nothing. So CATRA suggested baking. He started small with cookies and other easy things that would be more forgiving if he messed it up. Now he’s moved onto a cake. His very first one. 

He finishes pouring in the batter with a sigh. CATRA purrs happily before chirping, “Very good, Hitoshi-kun! Now, into the oven it goes for thirty five minutes!” 

Hitoshi nods and follows her instructions, carefully placing the cake pan in the oven on the top rack before setting a timer on the microwave for 35 minutes. He leans back heavily against the counter. He hopes he did it right. Now it was just a waiting game. But waiting meant thinking. And thinking meant questions that had weighed on his mind for a bit now.

“CATRA, do you think Izuku is in danger of being caught?” he asks the AI cat. Ever since their talk about Nedzu searching for him, Hitoshi can’t get it out of his mind of what would happen if Izuku was actually caught.

“I do not know. I wish I could say no and, as an AI, I should be able to estimate the likelihood of his capture but Izuku’s mind is somewhat unpredictable. He told you all he was going on the down low with Binary but I can tell he’s getting anxious. His normal hacking work for his contacts is starting to not be enough to keep his attention. Truthfully, I fear for him,” Her face turns away from him, “Should he stray too far off this lower path, it may end up in a situation where it would be too late for me to redirect Nedzu-san’s attempt to find him. Then there will be no stopping them.” 

“Would you be able to redirect them somehow after he’s been found?” 

“Negative. Though, I do have measures in place in an attempt to keep him out of Nedzu-san’s and the police’s clutches.”

Hitoshi’s eyebrows scrunch up at that, “Measures?”

“Yes. It is labeled in my files as Operation Zero Zero. Essentially, should it come to the moment that Izuku is discovered by the police and scourings show that serious actions are being brought against him, Operation Zero Zero begins. It will wipe all programs and files associated with hacking from Izuku’s computer and cell phone. That way there will be no proof of claims connected to Izuku’s equipment. However… It also includes a step that completely deletes me from the system as well.” 

“What?!” Hitoshi turns wide-eyed to her, “You’d be deleted too?!”

“Yes. If I exist when the authorities arrive, it is much more likely that they will associate Izuku’s identity as that of Binary; Especially since I have used my motif when dealing with Nedzu’s hacking attempts. For the good of Izuku’s safety and freedom, it is best that, should Operations Zero Zero have to occur, that I be deleted.” 

“But… you’ll be gone forever… I-I’m sure Izuku could remake you or reprogram you or whatever but… it wouldn’t be the same, would it? There would always be something that stood out which showed it wasn’t really you…” Hitoshi feels sad at that idea. CATRA was as much a part of their family as any of the humans were. If she wasn’t there, were they really a family anymore? 

“Oh Hitoshi-kun… you are correct. However, you must understand,” she shakes her head, “It is an unfortunate consequence that I am extremely willing to take if it means that all four of you stay safe, happy, and together. I know I am just an AI and that I’m not a human being. I was created to be an assistant and companion to Izuku who already felt so lonely by the life this world forced him to live. I was not supposed to feel anything beyond commitment to my tasks. Yet in my experiences and my talks with and just even my time here with you all… I have come to care. A bit of an oddity for a non-human, I’m sure. I don’t mind though. Caring was an evolution of my coding that I have come to gladly welcome. I’m so grateful that I have the capacity to care about you and Izuku-kun. And Dabi-kun and Himiko-chan as well! You all have taught me what family really is and means. And I’m so, so glad I’m a part of it; That you all consider me a part of it as well. That is why I will have no qualms about my deletion should it have to occur. Because I know I existed with a family who cared.”

Hitoshi’s eyes, surprisingly, fill up with tears. It makes sense though. She’s acted like more of a mom to him that literally any human of the foster system has. She was right too. He did consider her family. He knows Izuku did too and so did Himiko. Dabi would never say it out loud but even the older man was fond of the AI cat. But to know that she also feels this deeply about them? That she learned how to feel that deeply from them? It’s a whole other level. Which is why it makes him even more sad at the thought of her being deleted. 

“We’ll… We’ll do better! Himiko and I, we’ll figure out ways to keep Izuku more distracted! Or ask Iwai-san to find something for him to do! I’m sure something can be done to ensure you get to stay with us as well! We’ll just have to try harder!” He exclaims through his tears. He’s determined now. If CATRA is willing to take as many risks to keep their family safe, then they’ll just have to do the same. CATRA is family, regardless of if she’s an AI or not. 

“That would be very helpful, Hitoshi-kun, thank you,” She purrs happily again. 

Hitoshi wipes up his tears with the sleeves of his hoodie. Just as he gets the back under control, the timer beeps. CATRA gives a meow and stretches on the screen, “The cake has finished baking. Be sure to test it with a toothpick in the center of it to make sure it’s baked all the way through. If the toothpick comes away clean, take it out and set it on the rack to cool for ten minutes. Don’t forget to use oven mitts!”

“Right. We make the frosting while we wait for it to cool, right?” 

“Correct!” 

Hitoshi opens the oven and pokes a toothpick into the cake. It comes away clean so he takes it out of the oven. (Yes, CATRA with oven mitts because he’s not a complete idiot.) He sets it on the cooling rack before getting the ingredients out of the cabinets to make the frosting.

“Hitoshi-kun,” CATRA calls for him a few moments later, causing him to turn his head to her, “Please keep the information about Operation Zero Zero to yourself for the time being. I don’t want Izuku-kun to be aware of it right now. When he’s accepted into UA then I will tell him about the deletion plan but not a moment before.” 

“You know he’s going to get into UA?” He says, mixing up the frosting as she talks.

“Yes. I have faith in all of your acceptances into UA of your own skill and wits. However, I will ensure all three of you get into UA regardless of your scores since that is what you desire. It’s the least I can do.” 

“I won’t say anything then,” He turns the cake out of the pan and starts frosting it before adding, “I’ll also keep Izuku in the dark about you being willing to hack into UA to change our entrance exams scores. I don’t imagine he would be pleased to hear about that either… Especially since he’s so determined to get in by his hacking conduits.”

“A wise decision,” she laughs at that. It sounds a bit odd since it’s just a bunch of short meows clipped together. Somewhat cartoonish in nature. But it’s hers and Hitoshi wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Toshi-nii!” Himiko’s bedroom door chooses that moment to burst open as the blonde bounds out over to her purple haired brother, “I’m all done with my school work for today- Ooo! Is that cake?!” She steps around him to peer excitedly at the cake on the counter. 

Hitoshi makes a final swipe of the knife to finish frosting it, “Yep. Just finished it up actually. Want to go get Izuku so we can have some?”

“Omigosh! Yes! Izu-Nii! Come out of there!” She cries, running over and crashing through the door of the home office after just three quick knocks on it, “Toshi-nii made a cake! C’mon c’mon! Let’s have some together!”

Hitoshi smiles. Maybe if he keeps up this baking thing he can get Himiko’s unintentional help in keeping Izuku’s attention away from Binary. Good. He quickly glances to the monitor as CATRA is trailing off of it to likely move to Izuku’s computer screens to help convince Izuku of a break. That’ll help make sure CATRA never has to use Operation Zero Zero… hopefully.

[readerleedigest]

Quotable

This is a tickle fic. Don’t read if that’s not your thing. And yes, this is another Eddie and Steve x Reader fic because I’m slightly obsessed with their characters.

When it came to the gang’s get-togethers, there could be anywhere from 2 to 10 conversations happening at once. Whether it was the younger kids talking amongst themselves, the older kids talking amongst themselves, or a free-for-all, things could get pretty hectic.

When you’d first made friends with Nancy and Robin, you’d come to these hangouts in the Wheelers’ basement and inserted yourself into one of the conversations, trying to give it your full attention. But it was difficult to listen to simply one when so many absurd ideas and statements were being said at once.

Usually, you’d find yourself missing out on key parts of one conversation because of an awfully funny remark made by another group, and your attention would turn to them. Sometimes Nancy would hear the remark too, and you’d share a look with her across the room, both amused.

The more you began to hang out with the group, however, the more you found it was fun to sit back and listen to all the conversations selectively and silently. That didn’t mean you never talked, but sometimes your most fun evenings were spent barely having spoken a word. You particularly paid attention to Eddie and Steve, whose interactions never seemed to lack intense sarcasm and a level of stupidity that was there intentionally. 

Steve had let out a massive yawn towards the end of one evening, stretching his arms out wide.

“You sound like my uncle,” Eddie had laughed, mocking Steve.

“I AM your uncle,” Steve had responded immediately, his tone so serious you couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, drawing a grin from the two of them.

You weren’t sure if they made comments for their own amusement or for the amusement of others, but you’d become hooked on their conversations when you found yourself listening as you usually did. And while other comments still had you laughing, it was most commonly Eddie and Steve.

So you began bringing a notebook with you to these hangouts, sneakily writing down quotes from the group members when you heard one particularly funny. 

It was a long, long list. And 75% of the list was Eddie and Steve, not that anyone knew of this except for you. And you had planned to keep it that way, at least for a while.

You’d been writing down another quote, this time one from a conversation between Dustin and Max, when you’d felt two weights settle themselves on either sides of you on the couch.

“Whatcha writing?”

You immediately slammed the notebook closed, cradling it against your chest and attempting to school your face into a nonchalant expression before responding to Eddie.

“Just, remembered something I needed to do later. Wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget.”

“Mmmmhmmm.” Steve’s suspicious hum, drew your attention to him. “If that’s the case, you sure do remember a lot when we’re all hanging out. We’ve all seen you writing in that notebook an awful lot.”

“I don’t think that I-”

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... you have a horrible poker face,” Eddie lilted. “Spill it.”

“It’s nothing!” Your grip on the notebook tightened, and you brought it closer, so it was flush against your stomach, your body slightly curled around it. 

Steve across you at Eddie. “My money is still on some sort of diary.”

“And I,” Eddie responded. “Think it’s some sort of blackmail booky book.”

You let out a laugh at that. “Nope.”

“You could be lying though.”

“A booky would be good at lying.”

“They’re not a booky, Eddie.”

“So says you, Harrington.”

“I think we need to see the notebook to settle this.”

“Absolutely not,” you cut in, noticing the way they’d both shifted to angle towards you, eyeing the notebook.

“C’mon Y/N. You and I both know we can easily get that notebook from you. Might as well give it up the easy way.” Eddie reached out slowly as he spoke, and you smacked his hand away. 

However, you’d been too busy protecting yourself from Eddie, and Steve had reached out to pry the notebook away. His hand reached to grab the bottom corner of the notebook, but in the process, he clawed your stomach. 

“NoHOHO Steve,” you twisted away from him, both protecting the notebook and flinching away from the ticklish touch. 

They both grew quiet, a predatory smile on both their faces.

“Ooooo, someone’s really in trouble now.” Steve reached out to repeat the action, and you shifted backwards into Eddie, who sloppily grabbed for the notebook, tickling you as Steve had. 

“Guhuhuys, let’s talk about this,” you protested. They paused, just long enough to give you hope of getting away. 

You threw your weight forward, and you only made it a step away from the couch before you felt Steve’s arms wrap around your waist, slinging you dramatically onto the ground.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when the conversations around you didn’t even pause as Steve settled himself on your waist, and Eddie sat cross-legged by your head. 

“This better be good stuff you’re trying to hide,” Eddie teased, his head leaned over yours. “For your sake more than ours.”

“You’ve got 5 seconds,” Steve stated, his hands resting on the strip of stomach not covered by your notebook. “Or else you’re facing the two best tickle monsters in Hawkins.”

“Five.” Eddie’s hands moved to hover over your neck.”

“Four.”

“Three.” Steve’s fingers began tapping at your stomach.

“Two.” You squeezed your eyes shut, a ticklish grin already making your nose scrunch up.

“One.”

Steve wasted no time in skittering his fingers across your stomach, as Eddie focused on tracing patterns on your neck and collarbone. You couldn’t decide which was worse.

Eddie’s surprising gentle touch left you shrugging your shoulders, which worked in Steve’s favor, as it pulled your notebook up further, revealing more of your lower stomach and shifting the hem of your shirt up further.

Steve switched tactics immediately, alternating between squeezing your lower stomach and swiping his fingers across the bare skin. 

“I forgot how ticklish you are,” Eddie teased. “I think you may be even more ticklish than the last time we got you.”

“EDDIEHEHEHEHE,” you squealed, blushing at the teasing.

“Eddie and Steve aren’t here anymore, Y/N.” Steve lowered his face so his nose was practically touching yours. “Only the tickle monsters.”

The ticklish sensations combined with the sheer butterflies his words gave you caused you to forget your mission, letting go of the notebook in order to cover your face, which felt like it was on fire from blushing. 

“Dohohon’t look at mehehe,” you giggled, embarrassed. 

“Not gonna happen, giggles,” Eddie said, grabbing your wrists and pulling them to either side of your head. 

When you opened your eyes, they were both looking down at you with an amused look, Steve holding the notebook open in his hand. 

He looked down and began to read, and you began to tug against Eddie’s grip. Steve’s amused look turned to confusion, to shock.

“What is it, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“It’s us,” Steve laughed. “Us and some of the others, but mostly us.” He held the notebook in front of Eddie so he could read it, and you closed your eyes again. You knew it was silly, but you hoped they didn’t think you were weird or anything. 

Your eyes flew open again when Steve clawed your stomach to get your attention.

“Hey giggles. Care to explain?”

You groaned, really wishing they’d quit looking at you the way they did.

“I just, I think you all are funny. So I write down what you all say that makes me laugh.”

“Sooo,” Eddie drawled. “What I’m hearing is you like it when we make you laugh.”

“Well, yeah,” you responded matter-of-factly, immediately realizing after where this conversation was going. “Wait, wait, that’s not what I meant.”

“I think I’m hearing exactly what you mean,” Steve smirked.

“I didn’t mean that you all could... y’know.”

“That we could what?”

And you stupidly responded.

“Tickle me.”

“Well, if you’re going to be so kind as to ask,” Steve grinned, lowering his hands to vibrate into the center of your stomach.

“WAHAHAIT NOHOHO!”

“Eddie, I’d like you to add that to their list of quotes, if you please.” Steve handed the notebook over to Eddie, who released your arms.

“DOHOHON’T!”

“I think you underestimate just how quotable you are yourself,” Eddie laughed, scribbling in your notebook. “Besides, we need written record that you definitely like this.”

“I DOHOHO NOHOHOT, EDDIIHIHIHIIE!”

Steve leaned himself into that horrible horrible position again, your noses touching as he shifted to squeeze your sides.

“How many times do we have to tell you, Y/N? It’s tickle monster to you.” He shot you a wink, lowering his voice to a whisper. “And if you didn’t like it, why aren’t you using your arms to fight back?”

Oh shoot.

Eddie had let go of your arms, hadn’t he?

Steve slowed his tickling, still keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“Ihihi, I didn’t realize...” you trailed off, unable to come up with a defense.

Steve shifted his head to the side, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Eddie followed suit, doing the same to your other cheek.

“It’s sweet,” Steve stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into a sitting position. 

“Keep writing the quotes, Y/N. We won’t tell the others.” Eddie smiled, handing back the notebook to you. 

“And if you’re that desperate for laughs in the future, you know exactly which tickle monsters to call.”

You shoved Steve’s shoulder playfully, before your eye caught on the two new additions at the bottom of the notebook page. 

Tickle me. - Y/N

Let the record show that Y/N is the best. - Steve & Eddie

“Thanks,” you smiled bashfully, closing the notebook as Steve pulled you to your feet. 

“Y/N!” Robin called from her conversation with El and Max. “What do you think about....”

And thus began another quotable conversation. 

[comphy-and-cozy]

NHL!Michael Blurb // "Let's have a baby."

For the anon who requested #49 ("Let's have a baby"). I took the liberty of making this deliciously filthy and smutty.

NSFW/Smut under the cut. ~3.5K words. Breeding/pregnancy kink. Some daddy kink, too.

Unofficial part 2 here.

#49: “Let’s have a baby.”

You’re in the kitchen when he says it, unbuckling your heels from the team function you just came back from. Facing the counter, one hand supports you as you slip your feet out of the shoes.

“Let’s have a baby, or let’s make a baby?” you ask, brow quirked to yourself. “There’s a big difference.”

You feel the warmth of Michael’s body approach behind you, hands resting on your hips. He presses his lips against your shoulder in an affectionate gesture that you know has more meaning behind it. He hums, lips sliding toward your neck. “Both?”

You turn in his arms, stopping his movements as you look him in the eyes, trying to gauge how serious he is. “Michael —“

“If we start trying now, there’s a better chance that they can be born in the offseason,” he explains, voice logical.

You raise your eyebrows, surprised at his thought out rationale. “Oh, so you’ve thought about this.”

“I always think about knocking you up.”

You roll your eyes, and he grins. Michael’s arms wrap around you, holding you close, and he adds, “I’m serious, though. I want to start a family with you.”

“Babies are a lot of work,” you point out, not convinced that he really understands the magnitude of bringing life into the world; you assume he’s just trying a new tactic of getting you naked. “It’s different from Gus.”

“I know.”

“We have to feed it and bathe it and teach it life skills and lessons and —“

“Y/N, I know.”

You pause, biting your lip as your arms circle around his neck. You’d wanted to be a mom for as long as you could remember, that feeling only becoming more prominent as your relationship with Michael blossomed. Now, the ring on your left ring finger holds a different weight, symbolizing the security and stability you didn’t realize you had been waiting for.

His eyes watch you, as if he’s trying to hear the train of thoughts chugging through your mind; he gauges how long he should let you ponder.

“Angel,” he presses on after a moment. “I want to be a dad. I want to be a parent with you. I’m ready. If you still are.”

Your eyes slide back up to his, and you see the sincerity in his gaze. Suddenly shy, you shrink in his arms as the realization hits you that this is real.

“What if you think I’m ugly when I’m all bloated and pregnant?”

Michael’s large hands flex slightly on your hips and his gaze becomes more intense, but his smile is the opposite, full of love and adoration as he looks at you. “I could never think that, baby.”

You’re not convinced, but then his hips press into yours, letting you know exactly how much he likes the image, and suddenly the mood in the kitchen has drastically changed. His hands move to grip your hips tighter, and he leans in to kiss you; it’s sweet, but you can feel the heat behind it that he’s trying to contain, waiting for your ‘official’ approval.

You’re ready; you know you are, and it really isn’t much of a decision — the source of your hesitation is more that you sort of can’t believe you’re really going to do this. With just a simple nod, you let him know that the light is green. You feel his lips curl into a grin against yours before he’s kissing you with full force, letting the hunger inside of him take over.

Michael’s tongue meets yours, carving out a space in your mouth as his hands pull you against him. His mouth is quick to move to your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses along your skin before he murmurs in your ear, “You’re going to look so fucking sexy carrying my baby.”

A shiver runs down your spine, going straight to your core at his words. Michael walks you backwards until your bottom hits the edge of the counter, and he effortlessly lifts you up until you’re sitting on it. He pulls his mouth away from yours to smirk at you for a moment, then spreads your legs and steps between them, pulling you close once again before seeking out the skin on your neck.

You hum with pleasure, each kiss earning more goosebumps along your skin as you feel the wetness between your legs growing.

“Michael,” you whine. “Please.”

“Needy already, are we?” he teases. “Have patience, angel. Gotta get you nice and ready for me, yeah?”

Michael follows through on his statement by tugging your hips forward, placing a hand behind your back to gently lay you down against the granite countertop. It’s cold against your skin, but you’re distracted quickly when he kisses your calf, trailing his lips up your leg as he bunches the skirt of your dress up your thighs. Your back arches when his mouth presses against your core through the fabric of your panties, his tongue licking the material barrier.

Soon, but not soon enough, his fingers curl into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. Your eyes watch him as he takes in the sight of your bare pussy in front of him, and you wish that you could see into his mind and hear all of his filthy thoughts.

“She’s so gorgeous,” he murmurs, settling between your legs and allowing them to drape over his shoulders. He’s speaking to you, but his eyes haven’t left your core. “Such a pretty pussy.”

You shiver under his praise, eyes fluttering shut when he presses a kiss to your lower lips, slowly and sensually dipping his tongue in your entrance. “Taste so fucking good, baby.”

Michael’s tongue explores your pussy as if it’s his first time, taking his time even though he knows each and every spot. He’s always been the kind of guy who genuinely enjoys eating pussy, treating it like an art rather than a chore. He kisses your clit before flicking it gently with the tip of his tongue, drawing delicate circles around it that have your head spinning in no time.

Large hands hold your hips in place as he all but makes love to your pussy, tongue delving inside you and through each fold. His nose nudges your clit, and you stifle a moan when his tongue flattens against you. One hand trails to meet his mouth, dipping a finger inside you to work in tandem with his lips wrapping around your clit.

Your mind is blank, empty save for relishing the heated euphoria Michael is providing you, working you with his practiced rhythm in the way that always leaves you breathless. He said he wanted to get you ready, but with the cadence he’s set, you know he wants to make you come, and hard. By the way the heat is flooding your belly, it seems like he’ll achieve his goal quicker than expected.

“That’s it, baby,” he mouths against you, his voice muffled by your thighs wrapped around his head. “Can feel you.”

Fingers curling upward, he all but grins at the cry you let out as he strikes your g-spot, probing it while his tongue continues it’s assault on your clit. The pressure inside you snaps, hitting you like a freight train, and your body goes rigid as your release rips through you. Michael doesn’t relent, his fingers and tongue working to drag out the waves of your orgasm that have now dulled to an intense ripple.

Once he’s satisfied with your weak whimpers, he slows his movements before gingerly removing his hand, inserting the same fingers into his mouth to suck off the remaining excess.

“Michael,” you moan, the sight nearly too much to handle in combination with your climax. “Need you.”

He chuckles softly, standing to lean over you. His mouth is coated in a layer of your slick, but you reach up to kiss him anyways, tasting yourself as he wastes no time in plunging his tongue in your mouth the same way he had done to your pussy just moments prior. In an instant, the action has your orgasmic haze clearing, making way for a fresh, and strong, wave of desire.

“I don’t think the kitchen counter is the right spot to make a baby, do you?” he asks, hands sliding under your ass to lift you into his arms. Wouldn’t be the worst spot, you think to yourself, but you tuck your arms around his neck anyways.

“Nah,” he says. “Want to do it properly, in bed.”

If your lips weren’t so busy seeking out his, you might be embarrassed that you said that out loud, but instead you’re focused on wrapping your legs around him as he begins to carry you through the house. Eventually he makes his way to the bedroom, gently dropping you on the mattress, crawling over you in an instant.

Michael’s hands slide up your sides, helping you to remove your dress, then your bra, and he pauses to take in the sight of you naked beneath him.

“Never gets old,” he comments, eyes staring at your breasts.

“Michael, you saw them this morning,” you laugh, and he shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re still perfect.”

You respond by tugging at his shirt until he pulls it over his head, and as your eyes trail over the cut muscles of his body, you suddenly understand his sentiment — you will never grow tired of this view. You’re distracted, though, when he unzips his pants and kicks them down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs with a sizable tent in them.

Dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, you do your best to quell the moan that bubbles in your throat, anticipation thrumming through your veins. Michael knows, and he gives a cocky smirk. “You want it, don’t you, angel?”

You drag your eyes up to his, giving your best sultry ‘fuck me’ eyes as you nod, refusing to give into the temptation to yell, “Yes, please, please, please.”

Your feet slide up his legs and make their best attempt at pushing his boxer briefs down his legs, half succeeding before he’s smirking again, leaning back to help you remove them completely. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, finally naked and bare for you, just as you are for him.

He’s in a teasing mood, you can tell, and instead of letting him, you take matters into your own hands by reaching out to fist his length. He’s hard in your hand, skin soft as velvet, as you pump your hand while maintaining solid eye contact with him.

Michael isn’t pleased with your act of defiance, but your hand feels too damn good to ignore, and a groan of pleasure sounds from his chest as you give him a squeeze. His eyes watch you, glittering, while you shift onto your knees on the bed to take him into your mouth.

He groans out at the feeling, hand moving to tangle loosely in your hair as you work your lips around him. He’s heavy, and big, and you have always enjoyed the challenge of fitting as much of him into your throat as you can. Steeling yourself, you relax enough to take him deeper, tongue flattening against the underside of his dick.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunts out. “Such a perfect, pretty mouth you have, baby.”

You bob your head, finding a rhythm, tongue working sinfully in tandem with your lips and the suction of your mouth. Even after all these years, he is still in awe that he married the world’s best dick sucker, and that he’s going to get blowjobs like this for the rest of his life.

Slowly, your rhythm melds into his as he begins to gently move his hips, thrusting into your mouth cautiously. Once he’s sure you’re ready by the telltale sign of your fingers flexing on his thighs, he takes over the movement, fucking your mouth as he hits the back of your throat each time.

“Mmm,” he hums, fingers gripping your hair a bit tighter. “So good for me.”

Each thrust and groan from his mouth draws more arousal to your own core, thoroughly enjoying how much pleasure you are providing to him. With one hand bracing yourself on the bed, holding yourself steady, you move your other hand between your legs, rubbing circles over your clit. Michael, of course, takes note of this quickly, chuckling darkly. He knows how much you enjoy this, and it turns him on wildly to know that getting him off also gets you off.

Pulling away from your mouth, Michael bites his lip at the sight of his dick emerging from your lips, swollen and covered in saliva, as a string connects your mouth to his tip even as he pulls away.

“As much as I love to fuck your pretty little throat, I’m afraid I won’t be cumming there anymore. Have to save all of this cum for your pretty little pussy, yeah?”

You let out an unabashed moan at his words, feeling yourself clench down onto nothing at the thought. Michael presses forward, leaning down to kiss you as he gently pushes you backward, tangling your legs around his hips while he crawls on top of you.

He settles between your legs, his hard cock resting so close to where you need him most, but instead of giving you what you want, he cages your head between his muscular arms, gazing down at you.

“You like that, angel?” his voice is low as he weaves his hand down your body, toying teasingly at your entrance; he smirks upon feeling just how drenched you are for him, welcoming his fingers greedily. “Oh, yeah, you fucking love it, huh? You can’t wait for me to fuck a baby into you, can you?”

If his grade-A pussy eating skills don’t have you soaked, his words certainly do, and you feel your muscles clench weakly around nothing, aching for him to be inside you.

Michael kisses you deeply, and you can’t help the whimper that he swallows down as he grinds himself against you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers clutching onto him as you try to focus on anything but the throbbing between your legs. You’re desperate for him, needing to feel some sort of friction and the delicious stretch of him inside of you.

“Michael, please,” you whimper, “Please.”

“Please, what, angel?” he asks, teasing you as he leans back to rub the head of his cock along your dripping slit.

“Please, fuck me,” you moan, and Michael hums in approval.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you, enjoying the effect he clearly has on you.

He adjusts, bracing his arms on your sides before he slides into you slowly, eyes glued to your face as your mouth opens in a silent moan. The sex was always good with him, but there was nothing quite like the first stretch around his thick length as your bodies connect into one.

Your nerves tingle as he works himself into you, leaning forward to touch his forehead to yours in a sweet gesture that you’d normally appreciate more if you weren’t desperately in need of more. His hot breath fans over your face, but you’re too busy focusing on the way he feels moving in and out of you, igniting the fire in your core with each thrust of his hips. Breath is caught in your throat, hips rising to meet each push, and Michael kisses you as if to suck the air out of your lungs for you.

For a brief while, all that can be heard in the privacy of your bedroom are your heavy breaths and the gentle sound of Michael’s hips hitting yours. He feels so fucking good, and you are perfectly fine to enjoy the sensation rather than rushing to reach your peak. Somehow, it feels different — and even better — knowing that this act is more than just passionate lovers, but making love — and making life.

Your hands graze over the skin of his shoulders, accepting the heat of his flesh into your fingertips, and, likewise, transferring the thrum of your chest until your hearts beat in tandem as one.

Michael, though, has a different idea in mind, and soon, the pace of his hips speeds up as he begins to thrust into you harder. His lips find your jaw, sucking into the spot just below your ear, muffling the sound of his groans as he feels you clench tightly around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs. “Can’t wait to fill this pretty little cunt up with my cum.”

All you can do is whimper in response, the arousal you feel at his words and his matching actions almost overwhelming. Your fingers tremble along his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh as you hold on for dear life.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? You want to make me a daddy?”

“Fuck,” you cry out, both from the way he presses the head of his cock right against your g-spot, as well as his erotic words. “Yes, Michael, yes, please.”

“Yeah? You gonna take all of my cum, aren’t you? Not gonna waste a single drop, huh?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out, and he rewards you by moving his hand to circle at your clit. He knows you’re close, hanging on by just a thread, your cunt clenching desperately around him.

“That’s it, angel,” he praises, eyes glassy as he watches the bounce of your tits. “Take it so good, don’t you? Fuck, it’s like you were made to take my dick, baby.”

Between his hot praise, forceful thrusts, and calculated rub of your clit, you’re spiraling over the edge before you even have a chance to cry out, the euphoria washing over you in overwhelming waves. Your head falls back and legs tremble with the strength of your orgasm, clenching tightly around him as he groans at the feeling.

“Good girl,” he purrs, removing his hand from your clit to take its place back on your hip, gripping it tightly as he seeks out his own release.

He pumps into you, losing himself to his own rhythm as his eyes close. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, almost animalistic, and it has you clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck,” he exclaims. “Gonna come, angel. Gonna fill you up with a fucking baby.”

“Give it to me, daddy,” you moan, encouraging him. “Come inside me.”

The sight of him coming is always something — head thrown back, eyes closed, muscles flexed — but it’s even more beautiful knowing the intimacy of the act. It’s more than a release, it’s the start of a family with the man you’re hopelessly and deeply in love with, souls connected in more ways than one.

You feel the hot spurts shooting into you, and it’s almost enough to send you into another orgasm, your cunt greedily taking every drop from his cock. His hips stutter against yours, hands loosening their grip as he comes down from his high.

Michael looks down at you, panting, and smirks at you before pulling out halfway, only to push back in and make you clench weakly around him.

“Gotta keep it all in this pretty little cunt, don’t we? Don’t wanna waste a single drop,” he says.

He takes his time, lightly fucking you, gently sliding in and out of you. Between your two orgasms and the feeling of his warmth deep inside your womb, your core is on fire in the best way, and your fumbling hand reaches quickly for your clit. One, two, three circles later, you’re crying out in your final orgasm of the night, legs trembling weakly as your insides contract tightly.

Michael watches in awe, cursing under his breath as he lets you work through it, keeping his gentle rhythm steady. He eyes the swollen, wet lips of your pussy with a deep appreciation. “Look so fucking pretty taking my cum. All filled up with our baby, yeah?”

He presses kisses to your hairline as you come down slowly, as if to tell you to take your time. When he finally pulls out, you whimper slightly at the loss, feeling the emptiness, but you know you’re not really empty.

With his release, the darkness in Michael’s eyes has disappeared, and now he’s looking at you softly, eyes full of love and adoration. His lips curl into a smile, leaning down to kiss you gently as one hand trails over your belly. No words are needed; you know what he’s thinking, as you imagine the little seed growing inside of you.

He shifts so that he’s laying next to you, pulling you into his arms, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Have to say,” he murmurs after a moment. “I think I like being daddy already.”

“A daddy, or just daddy?”

Michael hums, hand trailing over your stomach again, as if there’s already something there, invisible to everyone but him.

“Both.”

[aemonds-sapphire]

Slow Down — Hawks x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Hawks was known as “the man who’s too fast for his own good”. Unfortunately, he lived up to that title in nearly every aspect of his life. Even during sex. So when he asked for your help, you just couldn’t say no.

Warnings: NSFW. Needy!Hawks (hints of sub!Hawks AND dom!Hawks). Premature ejaculation. Edging. Orgasm denial. Masturbation. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Blowjob. Breathplay. Cumplay.

Word count: 2.6k

“You need to relax, Hawks.”

The muscles on his toned thighs quivered lightly before loosening up under your palms. Beads of sweat pooled along his brow line and heaving bare chest. His golden eyes would settle anywhere but on you.

You two had been at this for only five minutes, but doubt started brewing inside you as to whether or not he’d last much longer than this.

As the young hero visibly calmed down, you decided it was time to resume resume what you had been asked to do: help pro hero number two Hawks from busting his load too quickly.

Your fingers curled around his cock once more, gaining a hiss from him as his hips lifted from the couch.

He was extremely responsive to your every touch, and while that might do wonders to anyone’s ego, it would all be over too soon if caution wasn’t exercised.

See, Hawks would often joke around with “the man who’s too fast for his own good” title that had been given to him. But the joke would fall flat now that he had realized his performance in bed was hindered.

A few more slow tentative pumps along his cock and you saw him balling his fists.

“Hawks... you need to look at me while I do this.”

An exasperated groan. “I can’t.”

“You have to,” you insisted, rubbing your thumb across his leaking tip. “Otherwise, you won’t make much progress.”

“I’ll fucking cum if I look...” he rasped through gritted teeth.

His scarlet wings twitched momentarily as you leaned in to place a butterfly kiss on the tip, gathering a few drops of precum on your lips as you did so.

“I wanna...” Hawks’ deep voice suddenly emerged. “I wanna fuck your mouth.”

You licked your lips and tasted him for the first time in a while. In all honesty, you yourself weren’t sure of what you’d call whatever this was. Friends with benefits was an overkill, but calling him just your friend didn’t fit either.

So you remained stuck in this limbo.

“Look at me first,” you told him, tightening your grip around him. “Keigo!”

The young man’s eyes finally locked with yours at the mention of his real name, and you seized the moment to drag your tongue along the underside of his cock.

“Fuck... you’re the best at this... your tongue...” he started off well, but his eyes quickly fluttered shut as one hand reached out to grip your chin tightly.

You yanked away from his, chuckling at his failed attempt at asserting dominance. “Flattery will get you nowhere, bird boy. You were the one who asked for my help, so do as I say.”

You had gone as far as to look up a few methods to extend his endurance, and this was the one you ended up choosing for convenience purposes. Hawks could just easily drop by your place for a quick session.

And even though the extent of your sexual experience with Hawks was limited to a few making out sessions, some blowjobs, and him eating you out from time to time, you knew from the get go that this cock wouldn’t last long inside a pussy.

But it was never your issue; at least he never made it to be, until he asked for your help, since it proved to be quite damaging to his male ego.

He was growing impatient by the minute, but you didn’t waver, even tough the growing damp spot in your panties served as a reminder of how badly you wanted to heed is request and just suck him off right then and there.

“You’re a meanie,” he pouted as he glared at the hand pumping him. “Fuck...”

Your lips curled into a devious smile. “You’re doing great, pretty bird.”

Praising Hawks was definitely the way to his heart — and apparently to his dick as it twitched under your palm.

Seeing that he was enduring your touch without breaking eye contact, you brought your lips to close around the head of his cock; his hips immediately jolted upwards, catching you off guard as he let out a sigh of pure bliss once he was halfway buried inside your mouth.

You promptly raked your teeth across the sensitive skin, which had him sliding out at lightning speed.

“Are you serious?” You scolded his boldness.

A boyish smile curled his lips. “100%.”

You smacked his thigh. Hawks and his damn percentages.

“No teeth!” he then protested, his beautiful features twisted into a deep frown.

“Then behave.”

He merely nodded, eyeing you eagerly as you wrapped your lips around him once again. The hand you had on his thigh felt him tense up, but he was definitely getting better at controlling his instinctive reflexes. You decided to take it up a notch and stare directly into his eyes as your lips parted to take more of him. Just as you’d expected, he bucked his hips into you, but this time you let him set the pace.

“Deeper... you can take more than that,” he said in between moans, pressing his thumb on your chin to have you open your mouth wider to take his thick cock.

You decided to indulge him for a while, testing his limit. Slowly, you allowed him to guide you all the way down on him with thumb now caressing your skin as his other hand clasped around your nape to keep you in place.

Thankfully, your breathing was trained enough to have him balls deep and grazing your throat without taking a toll on you. Your nose grazed the base of his cock briefly, and you swallowed.

Hard.

“Fuck-fuck-fuuuck!” he growled, wrapping his fingers around your neck to feel the faint bulge; his hips rising from the couch to make sure he remained buried deep inside you.

That was your cue. You instantly had both hands on his thighs and pulled away, earning a disappointed cry from him.

“Fuck no! I was not even close!” Hhe whined childishly, his back slumping into the couch in defeat.

You arched an eyebrow, noticing a string of saliva dangling between your owner lip and his tip. “Yes, you were. Stop trying to dom me and just let me help.”

It was in his nature, you figured. He had been raised by the commission to be one step ahead and not let anyone take advantage of him, so you weren’t at all surprised that this translated to his intimate side as well. But for someone who was so used to being told what to do and taking orders, Hawks sucked at doing so even when it was in his best interest.

He huffed in annoyance, but remained silent.

You glared at his cock momentarily, not being able to keep your pussy from clenching. This man was annoyingly pretty. Even his long and hard cock was pretty, having a slight curve to it and a nice and round bulbous head. Your eyes then shifted to his full balls, and you brought your fingers to fondle each one carefully, drawing delicious moans from him.

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna suck it?”

You offered a teasing smile. “You shouldn’t make demands when I have you in my hand. Literally.”

Hawks’ eyes widened slightly. “Just let me cum.”

“You sure?”

He nodded before motioning you to shift closer with his index finger. “C’mere...”

Your panties were fully soaked by now, and as much as you wanted to resist him, it was getting harder to pull away from having him coming undone because of you.

Slowly, your tongue darted out to give his tip a short lick, but this time you let his cock slide all the way in without letting go of his balls.

He stuttered incoherently. “S-Slow... go—go... slow...”

You twirled your tongue across the protruding veins, letting his shaft reach your throat easily, strings of precum mixed with your saliva began pooling around the corners on your mouth and soon started dripping down your chin. Not wanting to go overboard, you stilled, not even daring to swallow.

His hands were gripping the edge of the couch so tightly that his knuckled were turning white; it was rather obvious that he was fighting off his impending orgasm with determination.

But as soon as you started swallowing around him, allowing your throat to ripple along his cock, Hawks’ mouth fell open in a profound growl.

“I’m... I’m gonna...” his wings were stretched all the way up to the ceiling, his long red feathers vibrating rhythmically with each roll from his hips.

Yes, he was going to.

His hips jerked in a broken rhythm as he attempted to fuck your mouth, nearing his orgasm rapidly. Once he started panting heavily and his moans became ragged, you slid off his cock.

“FUCK!” Hawks yelled in sheer frustration as his hips were left bucking against nothing but cool air.

You sat back, admiring how annoyed you’d left him yet again. It was always fun to tease him like that. He wasn’t used to not having things go his way, so you made it your mission to humble him down every once in a while.

The young hero groaned through gritted teeth, burying his face in his hands. “This is evil!”

“Deep breaths,” you chose to ignore his remark, placing your hands on his quivering thighs. “Calm down, Keigo...”

His entire body was shaking from the pent up tension. He might be a pro hero, but he was still human after all; even though he wasn’t used to being edged and overstimulated, you had to admit he was doing quite well.

Except for the strangled sobs that erupted from his throat and the few tears that slid down his flushed cheeks.

“Just... let.... me... no more....” he pleaded sheepishly, wrapping his own hand around his cock and pumping it a few times in desperation.

“Keigo... deep breaths,” you said, unhooking his fingers away from him.

He shook his head, eyes closed shut. “No... let me cum... please...”

“Hands off your cock,” you told him, placing them on the edge of the couch. “Don’t touch it. You need to cool off.”

This side of him proved to be unexpectedly alluring and empowering. Having a pro hero squirming and begging and completely desperate for release was something that you didn’t know you needed to witness.

A few long minutes rolled by.

Hawks’ breathing became more even and his beautiful face was no longer contorting from the pain of having his orgasm denied for the first time ever.

Your hands caressed his relaxed thighs with every ounce of affection you could muster. “See? You did so good, baby...”

Hawks brushed sweat-damp locks of golden hair away from his forehead, his eyes fixed on yours. “This hurts... real bad...”

His hard and veiny cock was slapped flat against his lower abdomen, precum still dripping from the tip.

“I think it’s time for you to cum,” you suggested with an understanding smile.

“You think?” Hawks chuckled sarcastically, his voice filled with annoyance.

Not wanting to summon a very angry Hawks, you massaged his sack for a few seconds, enjoying how his cock twitched with each stroke.

“Go on. Fuck my mouth.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, he lunged forward to grip his cock and have his hand grasp the back of your head.

His predatory instinct finally took over. “Open.”

You promptly complied, and he wasted no time shoving his cock inside you.

“Wider,” he grunted, forcing your chin down with his thumb. This sudden shift in his demeanor caused you to struggle to taking in all of it while trying to control your breathing through your nose.

Big mistake.

Hawks quickly caught on to what you were attempting to do, and he pinched your nose with his index finger and thumb.

“Told you,” he growled in satisfaction, watching you swallow his entire cock. “Deeper.”

Your eyes were stinging with tears from and you felt your swollen clit throb as he kept himself lodged in your throat. His other hand wrapped around your throat once again.

“Swallow.”

Your vision began to blur, but you told yourself to relax even though you struggled to breathe.

You swallowed once before he finally let go of your nose, fully enjoying how you were gasping around him and feeling his cock swelling up your neck through his fingers. You had tried breath play with him once, but this time it felt rougher an aroused you far more. He wasn’t usually this hungry, but then again you had never taunted him this much.

His hips rose at a fast pace as he fucked your mouth mercilessly, grunting and praising you. You weren’t able to keep the drool from spilling out and down your chin with each thrust.

“Touch yourself.”

You looked up in surprise, but readily slid one hand downwards and shoved it inside your panties, so you could finally relieve some of the tension that had built up in your swollen clit.

A low moan rippled through you throat as you rubbed yourself.

“Do that again... do...” he panted, completely lost in pleasure as his wings quivered around him steadily.

Sliding one finger inside your drenched pussy, you started fingering yourself, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming sensation.

“I’m gonna... fuck....”

Your other hand was gripping his thigh to keep yourself stable, and as he quickened the pace, you found out that he was defying your gag reflex.

“You gonna swallow all of it...” he grunted with a final jerk of his hips, burying himself so deep inside you that your nose was fully pressed against the base of his cock.

Tears streamed down your face as hot sprays of cum started spurting down your throat, and you struggled to keep it all down, the excess mixing up with your saliva and dripping from your mouth.

Hawks let out an animalistic growl as he emptied himself inside you, and you found yourself facing yourself with two fingers, riding after your on high as he massaged your throat.

“So pretty...” he panted, pulling his cock out and pressing your head to rest on his thigh. “Wanna cum, too?”

You nodded tiredly, feeling your spit running down the side of his thigh, but you just couldn’t help from keeping your mouth open as you gasped in pleasure.

“C’mere.” He ended up saying, helping you to get on your feet and to sit on his lap. “I’ll do that.”

He brushed his thumb across your chin to wipe off the mixture of cum and spit and brought it to his lips to taste it.

“Good?” You smiled in surprise.

He flashed you his trademark wide grin. “Amazing. Now, let me help.”

You welcomed his invitation, and lowered your head to rest on his shoulder, his hot body fully pressed against yours.

Two long fingers slipped inside your pussy and he started fingering you rapidly, making sure his palm rubbed your swollen clit. It didn’t take you long to get washed over in your own orgasm. It probably had something to do with how good he was with his fingers, but also because you had managed to edge yourself from edging him. How ironic.

Hawks planted a kiss on your forehead, enveloping both of you with his large wings. “That was quick. Maybe you need some help too, eh?”

A low chuckled rumbled in your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Keigo. It was like 70% built up tension from edging you.”

“Just 30% from my fingers?” He feigned hurt.

You paused for a few seconds. “Maybe 20%?”

“And the other 10%?”

“From my fingers,” you shot sticking out your tongue to him teasingly.

He clicked his tongue. “So my fingers are better than yours. Noted.”

“That was not what I meant!” You laughed, not at all surprised by his deduction.

“Math never lies,” he winked adoringly.

Yes. You were definitely going to stick around to help him with this.

-

Masterlist

[outerbankies]

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

[angstama]

god knows you tried | manjiro (mikey) sano

pairing: bonten!mikey x reader 

genre: angst

warnings: heartbreak, attempt suicide(?), original characters/manga plot (pls do not read if you haven’t read the manga D: ), mentions of religion, implied sex (no smut ok!)

summary: god knows you tried your best. if only mikey knew how hard you’re trying too then perhaps this love wouldn’t hurt as much as you thought. 

 words: 1823 words 

 a/n: i think this sucks but... i hope you enjoy it! <3

god knows you tried.

you watched the ex-toman boys eagerly catching up with takemichi quietly, hands resting against your chin as you took in the rare sight in front of you with a sad smile etched on your lips. this was the happy ending that mikey had sacrificed for everyone but himself. 

“a penny for your thoughts?” mitsuya asks, plopping down next you on to the stone steps. that’s right, it’s june 19th 2018, toman’s formation day anniversary and everyone had gathered around to re-open the time capsule from twelve years ago. “hm? nothing much. just missing a particular someone.” you hummed, dragging your fingers across the ground to draw a heart. mitsuya nods understandingly, knowing not to pry any deeper anymore and for that, you’re thankful. 

crouching down, you hesitantly picked up the the blue coloured envelope you left behind twelve years ago. unsure if you’d wanna read the contents of the letter your naive self written back then. with a deep breath, you slipped open the cover. revealing a photo of candid photo of you and mikey leaning on each other asleep with your mouths wide open taken by emma. 

dearest y/n, 

i wonder what you’re doing right now? 

are you perhaps finally studying in film? 

has that idiot manjiro finally proposed to you?

 or are you the one who proposed to him? 

“y/n, you’ll be with me for a long time right?” mikey asked, staring at the very sky that you both loved oh so very much with your hands intertwined. having grown up with each other since young had pretty much given you both the illusion that the two of you will always be a part of each other’s world. and you hoped with every inch of your heart that mikey wants it to be that way forever. “of course. you’re my heaven and home mikey. i wouldn’t go anywhere else without you by my side.” you squeezed his hand in assurance, knowing that at this very moment, mikey was at his most truthful and vulnerable self with you. 

whatever it is, i hope that you’re living the happy life with him that you’ve been dreaming of. 

signing off, 

toman’s honorary member, y/n l/n. 

everyone was silent. even hakkai who had been making fun of everyone’s letter kept quiet. the boys knew how much you loved and you still love mikey. each opting to give you the concerned and sympathetic look. you could feel you heart breaking even more for you knew you weren’t doing anything that you had hoped for back then. 

you felt mitsuya’s comforting hand softly grabbing onto yours. “well that’s depressing,” you chuckled softly, wanting to get rid of the awkward tension in the air as soon as possible. “let’s grab some ramen, i’m starving.” and with that, you let your feet drag you away from the heavy atmosphere with your head hung low. 

perhaps the hurt wouldn't be as painful if you weren’t the only one who knew what kind of path mikey had chosen to go down. you see, when mikey turned his back against all his closest friend, you had the privilege of staying as his only constant thanks to your stubborn nature but even with that, you weren’t enough to keep him away from his dark impulses. mikey chose the path to destruction and the only thing that you could do was watch from the sidelines and be there when he shows up at wee hours of the night to borrow your body. but you didn't mind. it was during these most intimate moments with mikey that you finally get to feel a piece of him again when he spews the words of “i love you” so effortlessly. 

god knows that you tried. 

“mikey those aren’t good for you.” you frowned, snatching the capsule away from his hand seconds before he could flush it down his system. “what the fuck y/n?” the angered male snaps. you felt yourself falling and back colliding against the hard ground. opening your eyes, you see mikey pining you down with nothing but void darkness in his eyes. “i’ll fucking kill you if you do it again.” mikey taunts, he was serious and you know it. 

“then kill me mikey.” the words slipped out of your tongue instantly. you were tired. tired of trying. you don't know what else can you possibly do to help mikey anymore. mikey says nothing but got off you. he dusted himself and without sparing you single glance, he showed you his back again, walking out of the door where sanzu was already holding open for him. “get her home.” you heard him say. 

it’s been a week since you guys opened the time capsule. nothing much had happened since then except you’ve been spending more time with hina considering how she’s often over to mitsuya’s studio for gown fitting. you admired and envy her love story with takemichi. but who were you to complain? you were lucky enough that mikey still wanted you around. so it shouldn’t hurt so much when you sae her adorning the beautiful wedding gown that mitsuya had spent months on tailoring. 

you let out a tired yawn, stretching your arms above your head as you finished touching up the last few bits of editing on your laptop. you looked over at the calendar on your table, a pink heart circled over today’s date and smiled. “mitsuya, i’m gonna knock off first okay?” you announced, tidying up your table and reaching out for the bag of the familiar favourite deserts of a certain male. 

mitsuya nods, “thank you for your hard work y/n”. he flashes you a smile, eye slowly trailing to the white plastic bag dangling from your side as you waved goodbye, back facing him and walking away. “you’re going to see him aren't you?” you stopped in your tracks. “i know he never left you. plus you got a bag filled with dorayakis and taiyakis. that’s pretty obvious.” mitsuya chuckles. you always knew mitsuya to be perceptive but it never once occured to you that your best friend who is also your boss would ever catch on to the secret you’ve been hiding for twelve years. 

“how did yo-” 

“be careful y/n.” mitsuya waves you off, going back to whatever he was doing. a fond smile creeps onto your lips as you watched mitsuya working hard. “thank you mitsuya. for everything. really,” you whispered, but loud enough for the dual dyed coloured hair boy to look up again when you walked away. 

you made your way towards the secluded vip section of the club through swarms of body swaying around you until you saw the familiar tall pink haired male standing outside the golden door. 

“hey sanzu,” you greeted, barely audible over the loud booming music. you were about to push the door open when sanzu towers over you immediately, denying you of your entrance. you looked at sanzu in confusion, “it’s me, y/n. i’m here to see mikey.” you said loudly, voice straining to over power the background noise. “ i know. but mikey will not be seeing anyone right now.” he retorts back. 

surely mikey knew that you were visiting tonight right? after all it’s your anniversary date. you tilted your head at sanzu. not fully understanding what he’s saying. to say that you’re feeling absolutely livid would be an understatement right now. you’re too tired, angry and broken hearted to process anything anymore so you exploded. you only wanted to see your boyfriend. was that a very difficult request? 

“sanzu,” you said lowly, eyes staring blankly into his and as if on cue, you brought your knees to his precious manhood before making another high kick at him, bringing him down. it was a technique that mikey had taught you when you were younger and attending martial arts lesson together with baji. god you missed baji so much. 

“y/n because you’re short, you can do this instead.” mikey suggested smugly, kneeing poor baji’s little friend before swinging his legs much more harder than he intended to at baji’s profile when he bent forward. the main point was to get your opponent to lean forward so that your legs could reach high enough to create an impact on their skull. you eyes lit up in excitement, “wow! that’s so cool! let me try it!” you jumped impatiently. turning towards mikey to execute the exact same move. “wait n-! AHH,” mikey’s eyes widened, and before he knew it, you had completely knocked him over. 

that day, as mikey and baji lied down with pain still intact barely moving an inch, shinchiro only gave you a thumbs up and praised you for taking down the invincible mikey. you were the only one who could do that. 

“sanzu, i’ll see my boyfriend as and when i’d like to.” you said curtly, eyeing sending daggers at him lying on the ground before stepping over him to swing the door open, revealing your petite self to the other bonten’s executives and hostess who were staring at you in surprise. 

you don’t see anyone else but your lover who’s currently sitting in the center with two pretty hostess sitting by his side. you don’t hesitate and begun walking  towards him. “get your hands off my man.” you said calmly. there was tension in the air and from the corner of your eyes, you could see the executives slowly getting up to leave as if on cue. 

“aren’t you as stubborn as always,” he raises a brow as you settled down next to him, pouring the bag of dessert on the glass table in front of you. you smile softly, grabbing a packet of taiyaki and handing it to him before grabbing one for yourself too. “happy 14th anniversary mikey.” you mumbled softly before grabbing a bite.  14 years, that was how long you two had been together for. “mhm. happy 14th anniversary y/n.” mikey hums, allowing you lean in close to him and resting your head on his chest. 

you take in the scent of mikey for you knew that this is going to be the last time you’re going to be able to hold mikey close to you. you didn't want this moment to end but you were too tired to continue on and see what's going to happen the next when you go back to just another normal day. you held tightly to the gun you hid in your bag, shutting your eyes tightly. 

“hey mikey,” you called out. you never thought you’d see it again but you saw a flash of endearment in his eyes when you called him. “i love you so much, promise you’ll take care of yourself alright?” you smiled warmly before pulling the gun out of your bag and putting it against your head. 

god knows you tried. 

god knows you did your best and now you’re going home. 

bang!

[spilledkauffie]

Third Time’s A Charm

Pairing: Roman Sionis x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.6k T/W: Smut / thigh riding, glove kink? choking  A/N: Clearing out my drafts. I am very aware Roman is kinda terrible, but Ewan is gorgeous so:

The club was as usual: alive with vibrant streaming lights, voices chattering, and a drone from the d.j.’s booth made the floor vibrate softly underfoot. Normally you didn’t like to make an appearance, much happier away from the deliriously drunk crowds, but you hadn’t seen Roman in three weeks- and two days. . . you didn’t mean to keep track, but you couldn’t help it. Even though he had promised to come up and see you immediately after the negotiations he had to conduct tonight, you couldn’t wait any longer knowing he was right downstairs.

Stepping into his favourite silk dress of yours, the one that fell just beneath the curve of your ass, with an open back, you paired it with heels, and decided to have a little fun— after all you did give him that strip tease over the phone while he was away. Confidently, but carefully, stepping down the stairs, you caught clear sight of his usual table. It looked like some fancy upcoming hotshot was pleading for protection. Roman looked bored, you could tell his mind was already elsewhere. Biting in your lip, you smiled. Skillfully making your way over to the bar, unseen, the bartender greeted you by your first name, knowing you well enough by now, everyone did. You asked him for a tray with a glass of Roman’s favourite drink.

“Ah, jeez,” the bartender started, fiddling with his fingers, slightly nervous, “I’d love to, but- but Mr. Sionis told me not to let you waitress anymore.”

You shifted your weight onto the other hip, quirking your lips, a little let down, but not exactly surprised that he’d told everyone but you about this new rule, “well...I promise nothing’s going to happen to you,” you leaned in whispering sincerely, knowing it was easy to be scared of disobeying an order from Roman, “I’m not really waitressing, per se, think of it as more of a social experiment I need to conduct.”

With promised security from you, the bartender tried to be casual, looking around, but he mainly kept an eye on Roman whilst making the drink and handing you the tray. You thanked him and slid a few rolled 20s his way with a wink. Checking your hair in a nearby hazy mirror, you sauntered over to Roman’s table. The guy sitting opposite from him was stretched nearly halfway across the table, hands clasped together, begging. Roman was busy watching the performance, paying little attention to the whining kid in front of him.

“A drink, Mr. Sionis?” You asked from behind him, in your best waitressing voice.

“Sure,” he sighed, so annoyed that he didn’t even look up to you, “I’ll have-”

“Already ordered,” you carefully handed him the glass, making sure that your fingers touched, even though his were covered with his usual black initialed gloves, “and sent by special delivery.”

Once the drink was out of your hand, you slipped your fingertips along the slit of bare skin showing, at the base of his gloves, as you turned, walking away. By the time Roman looked up, you were already halfway across the club. Avoiding a look back, you were confident you’d gotten his attention. Softly setting the tray on the bar and biting the inside of your lip, you tried to repress the giggle swelling in your throat. Leaning forward into the bar as you waited, keeping your back purposefully to him, some unwanted company found you. 

“Hey,” a stranger slurred beside you, slowly sliding in closer; he smelled like cheap cologne, “you wanna- shots, my place?”

Before you could answer: the whiskey glass you had just handed Roman was set forcefully between the two of you on the bar’s table top, a familiar gloved fist curled tightly around it. You flicked your eyes to look at the stranger for a moment, he suddenly seemed like a stray dog with his tail tucked between its legs. Returning your gaze forward, you straighten yourself up, knowing it was no longer your problem.

“Fuck off,” you heard Roman’s voice behind you, obviously aggravated; you couldn’t help feeling some sort of way with that being the first word you heard him say in person in weeks.

With the stranger gone, you suddenly felt cool leather touching your skin, starting at the base of your neck, Roman stroked a knuckle down your spine. Unable to ignore the tingling sensation spreading across your skin like settling champagne, you pushed back your shoulder blades and tilted your head, exposing the side of your neck to him. He took the opportunity, placing a linger kiss to your skin, you closed your eyes and sighed happily.

“Is that the perfume I sent you from Paris?” He breathed in the scent you had pressed onto your neck, his voice was just as erotic as you remembered it being. 

“I’ve worn it everyday since you sent it,” you admitted, opening your eyes as he removed his hand from you, setting it against the metal edge of the bar, locking you between him and the counter. You could feel his lips lingering, so close to your skin. Attempting to control your already erratic breathing, you tried to breathe slower.

He hummed, but it was more like a purr to you. Almost placing another kiss to your neck, he pulled back, making you exhale disappointed, “turn around,” he told you instead.

You slowly did as requested, finding yourself a matter of inches from him. He eyed you up and down, “now there’s the view I like,” he said, gaze shifting from your figure up to meet your eyes. You maintained eye contact best you could feeling a blush rising. He smirked, taking a sip from his glass, “not that you don’t look fucking fantastic from behind.”

You broke into a smile, but he turned serious, dipping down slightly, holding your jaw in his hand tenderly, “I thought I told you that you don’t need to waitress anymore.”

Before you could say anything he was raising a hand to point towards the bartender. You quickly placed your palms against his chest, “I wasn’t-” he looked back at you with interest, but still kept his hand up, “I wanted to see you,” you blinked a few times, looking down, “keep an eye on you. . . since it’s been so long. I asked him to help.”

“Oh,” he breathed, lowering his hand and waving Victor away, “is my little kitten jealous?”

Roman hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head up, making you look up through your eyelashes at him. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, you smiled softly, loving how the gloves felt against you, smooth and cold. Sighing with a smile he looked down to your dress.

“I like this,” he leaned back to eye you over again, slipping two fingers underneath the thin strap resting on your shoulder.

“It’s your favourite,” you reminded him; sliding your hands off his chest, pressing yourself against him, “nothing but silk,” you whispered, kissing just under his ear, before you began placing needy kisses along his neck while you tried to subtly center yourself on top of one of his thighs.

“Not here,” he pulled back from you completely, “I want you all to myself,” seeing the bambi look in your eyes, he downed the last of his drink, “get your pretty ass up those stairs,” he said, whiskey still burning his throat as he spoke, “I’ll be right behind you.” 

You did as you were told, looking back half way up the stairs to see him talking with Victor, he was gesturing towards the poor soul that had dared to flirt with you. “Poor guy has no idea what’s coming,” you thought to yourself. Stepping back into the apartment alone, you weren’t sure if things were going to go according to the plan you had in mind. Sometimes he followed you, other times he was distracted by more business. But one thing was for certain, you realised just how much you had missed him and how he made you feel. You pressed your back against the wall, smiling to yourself.

“Now, that is a fucking perfect piece of art,” Roman said suddenly, drawing your attention to him as he locked the door and stepped over to a table, where he began taking one pair of gloves off, “now, I thought I told you I’d see you after negotiations?”

“I just missed you,” you smiled bashfully, “a lot.”

“Aww,” he smirked, glancing over to you whilst pulling on his white pair of gloves, he noticed the sharp inhale you took as you but your lip.

Continuing his walk to you from there he wrapped his arms around your frame, “baby, baby c’mere.”

You breathed in his cologne as he brought you closer, it was intoxicating. One hand traced down your spine, the other came to your jaw softly. Slipping his hand underneath the fabric of your dress, you felt him press against the small of your back. Inhaling sharply, your body naturally responded to his touch, pushing your chest against his. He had missed your body against his, he liked feeling your erratic breathing. 

“Show me,” he said against your neck, thumb teasingly stroking the base of your neck; he easily parted your legs with his knee, “step out of those heels and show me what you wanted downstairs.” 

You swallowed, meeting his gaze as he leaned back for a moment, “now,” he said, quirking an eyebrow.

Stepping one by one out of your heels, you softly kicked them away. Reaching your hands to the hem of your dress, you pulled it up a little to allow yourself more movement. Settling yourself atop his thigh, you placed your hands on his chest, you were desperate to feel some skin, but you weren't about to complain. Arching your back, you rocked your hips down against the slick fabric of his dress pants. 

“Good girl,” he mused, caressing your sides with his hands, feeling your body move, loving every inch of you.  

You were surprised how quickly it stimulated you. Pussy already throbbing after a few deep motions, you looked down, inhaling deeply trying to hold back a whimper, “oh no, no, no,” he chuckled, taking your jaw between his thumb and index finger carefully, “you look at me.”

You gave a small whine, making him smile. Determined to get more, you began unbuttoning his black dress shirt, you were happy enough when you reached halfway undone, allowing you enough room to spread your hands out against his chest, finally feeling his skin. You closed your eyes and bit in the corner of your lip, humming at the warmth.  

“Harder,” he sneered, voice rasping.

You pushed up on to your tiptoes so you could grind your hips higher on him. One hand disheveling his shift from the desperate attempts to feel every inch you could of his skin, you clasped a finger through his belt loop with your free hand and tugged him closer to you. He said nothing, just moved a hand to your neck again. Palming the small of your back, he helped with the adjustment of your movements and picked up the pace. Gasping, you lifted a leg to slide up the back of his. He could feel your fingernails trying to dig into his skin at the edge of his shoulder. There was a knotting sensation rising in your abdomen, building, and building, and building-

“Roman,” you sighed blissfully, tossing your head back, lips parting in anticipation of your orgasm.

Immediately he tightened his hand around your throat, “don’t” he stopped all motion, pushing your leg off of him, “don’t you fucking dare.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to squeeze your legs shut too when he stepped back, but he was quicker, slipping a hand between your thighs in place of his knee. The leather was cold against the inside of your thighs, and he liked the way you shivered at his touch. He traced his hand slowly up your legs. With you twitching them together the back of his hand stroked one leg while the palm of his hand inched up the other. He gave your inner thigh a tighter grip and your body naturally jolted a little, making him chuckle at how sensitive you were for him. 

Tilting your head to look at him, he was inches away from your lips and you wanted to taste the alcohol on his. He gave you what you wanted, lips meeting yours with a passion. He was already nipping at the bottom of your lip when you practically screamed into the kiss as he pressed his fingers against your clit firmly. The coolness of the glove, the deep circular motion he was applying, for a moment you thought you’d lost yourself. You were suddenly reaching down to grasp hold of his wrist buried under the silk fabric, unsure if you could take more teasing after he had denied you your first orgasm. 

“Sweetheart,” Roman clicked his tongue at you, pressing teasingly soft circles against your clit,  “be good.”

You moved your hands away from his wrist shakily as you felt him continue his motions. As he returned to tasting your lips, you found yourself spreading your legs as he deepened the kiss. He teased you, barely gliding his middle finger along your slick folds. Feeling yourself become wetter by the minute, you let him swallow your moans, until he began trailing his ;ips down your neck.

“Are-are you gonna. . . gonna keep them on?” You asked, barely able to make a sentence, hands grasping his biceps for support.

 He nuzzled your neck, kissing it once more, “I know how you like it.”

You could feel how your pussy was pulsing for him now and he had you right where he wanted you. With a gentle push, two of his gloved fingers swiftly slid inside you, all at once it was your heat met by the cool material. After the first few pumps, you could feel his fingernails through the fabric against your walls with how tight his gloves were now that they were slightly wet. 

“Roman!” you screamed.

He used his free hand to cover your mouth, “shh, babygirl” he hushed, fingers deep inside you, your slick making it easier with each thrust. He felt you moan against his hand and watched your eyelids flutter. You suddenly put a hand around his wrist and guided it down to your neck. He brought you closer to him, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he tightened his grip. He could feel your breath against the base of his neck, your lips grazing against his skin.

“Fuck- Roman,” you mused, shakily dragging a hand up to push back his dirty blonde hair, combing it between your fingers, “right there, Darling.” 

He pumped his fingers deep and hard. Giving an occasional repressed whine, you stood on your tiptoes, attempting to get a new angle. Parting your lips against his neck, you kissed him while you still had your wits about you. But when you felt him curl his fingers inside you, it made your jaw drop completely, and chest heave. Feeling your thighs beginning to tremble, he removed his fingers from you, just in time.

“Shit,” you whimpered at the loss of pleasure again, leaving you shaking and desperately clinging to him, “Roman-”

“Hmm,” he softly chuckled, but there was slight sympathy, “I’ve put you through it,” you looked up, to meet his stare, mascara smudged from when you had almost been brought to the bring, but denied, “tell me what you really want, babygirl.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you admitted, stealing a kiss of your own. You pulled him to you by the lapels of his velvet jacket, he braced himself against the wall behind you with both hands. You ground your hips against his, unabashedly forcing the kiss to be deeper.

“So needy,” he said, with a chuckle, your lips still touching his.

“Roman,” you whined, eyebrows furrowing.

“Alright, you know what they say,” he pressed his thumb against your lip, stroking back and forth, “third time’s a charm.” 

[spideyhexx]

filthy; s. r.

pairing; steve rogers x female!reader

a/n: this is dedicated to @vineridden💕 mean/evil steve is superior

masterlist reblogs/comments/feedback is appreciated!

summary; you intentionally piss steve off, but at least you get what you want!

NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI PLEASE!!!

WARNINGS: mean!steve. lots of teasing/humiliation. slapping. hair pulling. oral (female receiving). riding. crying but good crying. unprotected sex. squirting. spitting/cumplay.

word count; 2.6k

---------------------------------------------------------

You’d be lying to yourself if you said making Steve angry was an accident.

Granted, it’s pretty easy to piss him off. He wanted everything to be perfect, always. Mister “my plan is the best plan” even though the old Captain has had his fair share of mishaps.

Ever since the tension broke between you and Steve just a few weeks ago, a fiery kiss that resulted in him pounding into you against his bedroom wall, he’s been a bit more cold.

You can’t tell if he’s being rude to continue fucking with you or if he truly regrets having sex. Either way, you wanted to light his fuse. You wanted to see the deep crease in his brow and how serious his face gets.

All you did was take a turn in the dimly lit, abandoned HYDRA facility.

Albeit a left turn instead of a right, like Steve instructed you to. How were you supposed to know a group of HYDRA agents were stashed away in one of the rooms in that hallway?

Regardless, it still jeopardized the mission and cut it short, leaving the team empty handed.

To be fair, you felt a little bad. Rebelling against Steve’s orders to purposely get on his bad side was fun, but maybe you took it too far? Nobody got hurt, but also nothing was accomplished.

Usually when Steve was mad he’d shout a few angry words at someone but this time he’s completely silent.

He gives you a stern look before jumping in the passenger seat, shrugging off questions from the team.

You began to worry you did take it too far. But a light ‘ping’ sound goes off and you check your phone to see a text from the Captain himself.

Skip the debriefing. Come to my room after you wash up.

The text bubbles pop up then disappear, leaving you with those two sentences to interpret and overthink the whole way back to the compound.

You couldn’t scrub the dirt off of your body faster as you take the quickest shower of your life.

Pondering for only a moment before deciding, fuck it, you throw on your favorite lacy set, covering it with a big t shirt. As you walk down the hallway to Steve’s room, you hope to dear god he’s really as into you as you are into him.

He’s most likely still mad at you, but that’s how you got fucked in the first place. You called him a jerk and it struck him deeper than you expected. So he fucked you until the only words out of your mouth were about how perfect he was.

You knock lightly on his door and it whips open. Steve pulls you in and shuts the door with a kick.

“Would you like to explain yourself?”

He stands tall with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly. His eyes quickly look down at your bare thighs. You feel small under his stare.

“I just took the wrong turn,” you state and he scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just took the wrong turn, my ass.”

“Listen-”

“No! No, you know what?!”

Steve lets out a deep sigh before continuing,“I don’t care if it was just some wrong turn you cost us this fucking mission! Now we have to regroup and make sure we have a competent team next time, not including you.”

You stare at him wide eyed.

“Uh, no you’re not benching me,” you start but he’s standing his ground, shaking his head at you.

“Well I am. Because I’m allowed to, that’s what a Captain does right? Based on your actions honey, I think you deserve a time out.” he says.

The nickname falters you for a moment, stopping any words that were about to come out of your mouth. Steve notices, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I see,” he mumbles, stalking over to you and leaning closer to your face. You wonder if he could feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks.

“Was this a little ploy to get back in my bedroom? Hmm?”

His eyes bore into you, as though he was trying to read your mind. Your eyes lock onto his and you try to keep a straight face as his gaze drops to your lips.

“Tell me, honey.”

You say nothing and a slight smirk etches it way onto Steve’s face.

“Really? Quiet treatment? I’ll talk for you then. I think you fucked up the mission just to be here...with me...right now. Was my dick really that tempting? Such a desperate girl. Selfish, too really. Don’t give a fuck about anything because you got cockdrunk after one fuck. What a-”

You strike a quick slap across Steve’s face before he could finish and his head barely moves. He chuckles and you grip your hand that’s stinging slightly.

“Is that all you got? That’s your slap?”

Steve moves away from you to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” you mutter. You did slap him as hard as you could.

“It really is. You can’t fucking slap. Try it again,” he demands while still sporting his teasing smile.

You lay your hand on his cheek lightly before pulling away and slapping him as hard as you could. It is definitely a little harsher than the last, but Steve still laughs.

“That was a little better, but still shit. You want me to show you how it’s done?”

Steve cups your face in both of his hands, his thumbs drumming against your cheekbones. You nod at him eagerly.

“Ah, ah, you know I want to hear you say it, honey,” Steve teases, then leans his lips down to your ear, “tell your Captain you want him to slap you.”

You feel yourself melt into his touch already and you take a very quick moment to thank the heavens for already how good it feels to be like this with Steve.

“Captain, I want you to slap me.”

Steve moves one of his hands down your body to grip your waist. The other one rubs your cheek affectionately one more time before he draws his hand back and strikes it across your face. You whimper and his hand is back on your face, soothing the burning skin.

“You see? That’s how you hit someone.”

His hand drifts down to lightly grasp your neck. You jut your bottom lip out at him and he smiles.

“You’re a brat,” he mumbles, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting it.

Your breaths are heavy and before you could respond, Steve’s pressing his lips to yours. He grips your hips with both of his hands, shoving you as close to his body as possible.

You rake your nails through his hair and he bites your lip again, making you moan.

Steve pulls away breathless, “look at you, already moaning? Seriously? Fuck, you’re going to be so noisy once I get my cock in here.”

He cups your core and moans when he feels your lace underwear.

“Look who’s moaning now,” you retort and Steve winds his hand into your hair, pulling harshly.

“Get on the fucking bed,” he spits out and carelessly lets go of you. Without hesitation, you get on his bed, lying on your back.

Steve rucks up the shirt you have on and tosses it over his head.

“I really didn’t think you could possibly seem more desperate, but look at this.”

Steve trails a finger down your bra strap, then above your tits.

“Got yourself all pretty looking for me. I wasn’t wrong when I said you were cockdrunk.”

“Steve,” you whine out, your hands fisting the sheets a smidge tighter, even though he’s barely touching you.

“Steeeve,” he mocks your whine as he moves down the bed to settle between your legs. Roughly, he pulls them apart, placing each of your thighs over his shoulders.

Steve presses a quick kiss to your inner thigh before his lips are right above your core. His fingers trail the waistband of your underwear, then down the middle. The action already had you trying to buck your hips.

“None of that. Or do you want me to keep making fun of you?”

“Just...just get on with it, please,” you beg him and Steve chuckles.

“Filthy girl, can’t wait, huh?”

He presses a kiss to your clothed pussy, before you hear a tearing sound. You look down to see Steve had ripped your underwear completely off.

“Are you kidding me? You didn’t have to-”

“Aw is the little princess sad her panties were ripped,” he mocks, faking a frown. You let out a sigh and Steve pinches your thigh.

“Steve, you have to replace them.”

“Yeah, sure whatever. But it won’t matter in just a couple seconds will it? Cause my tongue will be on your cunt?”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” you relent.

“That’s a good girl. Finally.”

He licks a stripe up your core, smiling devilishly at the squirm of your hips. His tongue laps at your cunt, not holding back from plunging you into pleasure.

Steve groans at how wet you are and the feeling of you soaking his mouth. He’s been thinking about stuffing his face into your pussy since he first fucked you and now that he’s doing it, he’s relentless.

He attempts to keep your hips from squirming at every lick, but eventually he gives up, just wanting to enjoy how much you like his tongue.

“This good, honey? Sure fucking looks like it is,” he growls, moving his fingers up to rub your clit in small circles as his tongue dives into your opening.

You feel like he’s trying to lick every inch of you. All your moans are strings of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’ and little whimpers as the sensitivity grows.

“Fuck, show me this is what you needed, princess. Cum on my face, come on.”

Your body stills as your orgasm rips through you, your toes curling as you scream out his name. You don’t miss how Steve’s moaning against your cunt as well, lapping up as much of your slick as he can.

Once your high has calmed down, Steve’s getting off the bed to rid himself of his clothes. He sits back against the headboard and practically pulls your body into his lap.

You take the opportunity to take your bra off yourself, not wanting him to rip that too.

“Listen to me,” he says, gripping your jaw so you could only look right at him. As he looks into your eyes, he could tell you’re already a bit dazed.

“Are you listening?”

You nod and squirm in his lap, his hard cock presses into your thigh and with each passing second, you feel more hungry for it.

“I want you to ride my cock. Do all the fucking work.”

He releases his hold on your jaw and leans back. You look at him and Steve points his head to his dick. Holding the base, you guide yourself slowly down his length.

Once you’re fully seated on him, you take a few breaths, already feeling the pleasure building from how much he fills you.

“You gonna do anything, princess? Or is it too difficult for you? You're the girl who's cockdrunk so you better show me how true that really is.”

With his words spurring a sense of motivation within you, you steady your hands on his chest, his hands loosely resting on your thighs.

Slowly, you begin to grind down on him, whimpering at how deep he is in you. A deep groan leaves Steve’s mouth and it turns you even more. As you get into the groove of feeling his cock again, you start to bounce on him.

“My girl, fucking herself on my cock. How cute, huh?”

You moan out a ‘yes’ and he chuckles, his gaze stuck on his cock as it disappears into you. Your hips are already stuttering and it’s difficult to keep a steady pace.

“Think you could go faster than that? Poor baby couldn’t slap right and now she can’t even fuck herself right?”

“Please, Steve, just help me,” you whimper at him, clutching tightly enough at his shoulders, you’re sure you’ll leave marks.

“You sure? That means you’re giving up, honey. Admitting you can’t do this-”

“I know, fuck it. I need you to fuck me, Stevie,” plead and he’s quick to push the two of you down the bed a little so he can lay down more.

He plants his feet on the bed and holds your hips. You’ll probably both have marks from each other’s fingers.

Steve gives one experimental thrust up into you and it sends you reeling against him, dropping your head to his neck. He chuckles breathlessly before fucking his cock up into you.

“So much better, right?” He asks, kissing right under your ear.

Compared to your sporadic bounces on his dick, Steve’s pounding into you. He thrusts hard and fast and his frequent chuckling at the noises you’re making gets you closer and closer to the edge.

One whimper makes him still though and he pulls your head up to look at him.

“Look at this,” Steve coos, using his thumb to wipe the stray tear that left your eye.

“Why’re you crying, honey?”

For a moment, you think he’s genuinely concerned but the way he’s trying to hide his smirk tells you otherwise.

“I’m sensitive,” you mumble and he hums.

“Your cunt’s sensitive?”

You nod at him and he begins to fuck you again, but his movements are slower, deeper.

“So what you’re telling me is...you came once from my tongue and your pussy’s already so sensitive that you’re crying? Think you could even handle cumming again?”

“Mhm, I could do it, Stevie, just so close.”

You knew you could, it’s just him that makes you extra riled up.

“Alright then, princess. You better fucking cum soon, then.”

Just as you were getting used to his slower thrusts, Steve picks up the pace again. He grabs one of your wrists and pushes it down to your cunt.

“Rub it,” he says, his lips pressing against your ear, then leaving a few sloppy kisses on your jaw. Your fingers work fast on your clit until you feel like you’re going to burst.

And you do, as Steve delivers one more thrust and you dissolve into pleasure, with him following and filling your cunt with his load. Steve pushes you off of him and laughs as he looks down at his bed.

“Made a mess, honey. You’re washing the sheets.”

He looks over to you, splayed out on his bed, breathless and still coming down from your orgasm. Steve moves back between your legs and you instinctively shut them from the oversensitivity.

“I’m just cleaning up,” he says.

Steve groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt and dips his head to lap it up into his mouth.

He moves back up to you and opens your mouth. You stick out your tongue and Steve spits his cum, mixed with yours as well, into your mouth. He closes your mouth for you and you swallow without him telling you to.

“There you go again, being a good girl.”

You watch as Steve picks up his clothes and puts them on.

“Am I really benched?”

You put on your best pout and Steve sighs.

“Yeah. Only stay out for one mission, then you can come back. That sound good, honey?”

You nod at him and he kisses you, his lips lingering against your own for a couple of moments before he’s pulling away.

“You wash the sheets or buy me new ones and I’ll buy you whatever pair of slutty panties you want.”