#will never get over how twisted this dude is
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lynnieverse · 3 days ago
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Hey GORGG
I was wondering could we get a fic where bsf!rafe is an ass to his baf bc he’s going through shit and he’s just ghosting her and is mean and when she does the same he realizes he fucked up? Angst ans fluff?
tysm luv!
ooo I got you! thank you for this rec!! :)
ghostin' // rafe cameron
oneshot
asshole!bsf!rafe cameron x reader
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You knock loudly on the large wooden door of your best friend’s house before stepping back, arms crossed tightly over your chest. Rafe had been going ghost for days––ignoring text messages, skipping out on plans––and while it had concerned you in the beginning, now you’re just pissed. You tap your foot impatiently as the minutes pass, and eventually you pull out your phone. You call him five times. Five times before he answers. 
“Yes?” his tone was sharp, clearly annoyed. 
“Open the fucking door, Rafe Cameron.” 
“Why are you here, Y/N?” 
“Why do you think I’m here?! You’ve been ignoring me for days, dude. What the fuck is your problem?” You start pacing around his porch, looking in windows trying to catch a glimpse of his stupid ass. 
“Maybe take a hint then.” The words are like a slap to the face, lips parting slightly. What the fuck? After a beat, you go cold. He’s messing with the wrong bitch. 
“Alright, sure. You go off and do your little broody, pouty, ‘woe is me’ routine because daddy doesn’t love you, and see where that gets you. Meanwhile, the people who do love you, that you couldn’t give a shit about, are worried and just want to talk. Not me. You’re not going to treat me like the dirt on the bottom of your shoe and think I’ll stick around. Have a nice life.” You end your rant with a satisfying jab and end the call. You shove your phone in your pocket and storm to your car, immediately driving away without a second glance. 
Within five minutes you hear a familiar ringtone and roll your eyes. This is what he always does. He pushes and pushes until people break, and then tries to make up for it with pretty words. Not today, not ever again. 
You send him to voicemail, immediately getting a second call. Then another, then another. Eventually you resolve to turn your phone off, cutting all contact at the source. Sighing, you pull into your driveway and rest your head on the steering wheel. You could do this. 
It was his turn to be ignored. 
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
Rafe expects you to call back. You always do. 
But you don’t. 
He wakes up to silence. No missed calls, no texts…nothing. He can’t help but sigh at his own stubbornness. 
At first he tells himself it’s fine, that you’re just giving him space and you’ll come around. 
Then he sees you out with your friends. 
You’re laughing, head tipped back, smile wide. Instinctively he wants to approach, but knows he shouldn’t. Not after what he did. 
He really fucked up this time. 
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
Three Days Later
Rafe shows up to your house shortly after the sun dipped below the horizon, draining all the light from your street. His hands are shoved deep inside his pocket, head hung low. 
He knocks. 
No answer. 
He knocks again.
Silence.
This continued for a few more minutes before your muffled voice could be heard through the door. 
“Go home, Rafe.” 
His stomach twists painfully. He doesn’t know how to deal with you shutting him out. It was always the other way around. 
“I was an asshole. Please, Y/N, just talk to me.” The words felt like ash on his tongue. He never apologized, not to anyone. “I took my bullshit out on you and I shouldn’t have. I messed up, but this can’t be how it ends with us.”
Silence surrounds him once more. He sighs in defeat before turning around, ready to lick his wounds back to his house. As he stepped off your porch, the lock clicked.
You open the door just enough to fit your frame, arms crossed over your chest. “Do you even know what you did?” 
Rafe swallows hard. He looks at you, really looks at you—the tired set of your shoulders, the frustration flickering behind your eyes.
“I pushed you away,” he says finally. “And then when you tried to pull me back, I hurt you.”
You hold his gaze for a long moment, searching for something. He looked sincere, shoulders sagging and eyebrows scrunched. 
“Yeah,” you say, voice quiet. “You did.”
“I’m sorry.” 
“Okay.” 
It’s not forgiveness, not yet, but it’s enough for now. Enough to know you weren’t completely done with him yet. And Rafe will take whatever he can get. 
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butterflyscribbles · 3 days ago
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Why has no one mentioned how Maddie would be so mad when Knuckles came back after the events of the Knuckles series.
Like he was gone for at LEAST a week it seems, and he was in fact grounded.
So like imagine Maddie's reaction, she had grounded Knuckles and he hasn't come down stairs at ALL for a few days so she goes up to lift his punishment just to find out he's GONE without a trace and she has zero clue where he is. Imagine how bad she would freak out.
Or she would figure out through Sonic or Tails telling her he disappeared.
I feel like Knuckles would get his ass chewed out by Maddie with poor Wade trying to help-
anyways i might or might not write a fanfic where this happens.
DUDE I WANT TO DO SOMETHING WITH THIS IDEA TOO SO BADLYYYYYY
(Full disclosure I haven’t seen Knuckles all the way through but I’ve gotten the gist through a bunch of clips)
I’m SOBBING over the idea that Maddie goes up to apologize and he’s just gone. Something tipped her off when Wade didn’t answer her calls about borrowing his car too. She’s losing it too bc he’s got fresh injuries as he and Wade hobble in. Wade gets the verbal lashing even worse than Knuckles lmao…..
He is stunned to be met with such concern once he’s back, from Maddie, his brothers and Tom who had gotten back a few days ago. In addition to not feeling he’d had a home on Earth yet, he hadn’t had anyone to worry about him before. Guilt twists him in a way he’d never experienced and he “lays low” for a couple of days.
I so wish we could have gotten that reunion from the show. Even a snippet of it;A;
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ckret2 · 23 minutes ago
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due to stuff involving a goat, the only thing that can save the pines family is sticking bill cipher in a cute dress, doing weird 70's things to his hair, slapping makeup on him, and sending him to flirt with a government agent
and if that ain't a setup for a chapter i don't know what is
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anyway here's chapter 86 of this thing.
####
"Something about this is just wrong," Stan said. "It isn't natural."
"Oh, I don't know," Ford said, grinning. "I think it's funny."
Without looking over, trying not to move his lips, Bill said, "I'd like to see you do better."
It was still a few minutes until the Mystery Shack opened for the day, and he and Mabel were sitting in the kitchen, with Bill miserably wearing a mis-buttoned Hawaiian shirt so he wouldn't mess up his makeup when he changed into his flirting uniform. The makeup supplies Pacifica had sent them home with yesterday were spread out on the kitchen table, and they were collaboratively trying to remember how to recreate the look Pacifica had given Bill yesterday. Thus far, they'd managed moisturizer and foundation and were debating the finer points of concealer color theory.
"I didn't say it's bad," said Ford, whose opinions on makeup only fell into three categories: obviously hideous; fine, I guess; and potentially magical sigils for ritual purposes. "It's just bizarre watching you care about it."
Bill mumbled, "I'm blending in with the Nacirema." Ford barked a laugh. (About time somebody got it.)
Stan elbowed Ford. "What's a Nacirema?"
"It's— There's this phenomenon in anthropology— I'll explain it later."
Stan grumbled to himself about the nerds enabling each other, then said, "Hey. When you do the lipstick, don't make it look too good. If it looks too good, he'll assume you're out of his league and get suspicious when you start hitting on him. I never trust attention from a lady whose lipstick isn't at least a little cakey."
Offended, Mabel said, "Grunkle Stan, I'm an artiste! I can't do a bad job on purpose!"
Bill said, "It doesn't matter! Once I get my seduction hat on, he won't even glance at my face." He poked the top hat sitting on the kitchen table.
"Oh, no you don't," Stan said. "Hat's gotta go, it's too tall. Guys hate it when their dates are taller than them."
"What?!" Bill stared at Stan, aghast. "You've gotta be insane! The hat's essential—"
"Hold still!" Mabel poked his neck with the butt of a makeup brush.
He reluctantly gave up and turned to face her again, but not without muttering to himself, "Can't wear a seduction hat, can't stick my hand in a goat's stomach acid, god forbid women do anything."
Last night's hunt for Gompers had been an abysmal failure—Dipper and Mabel had never even glimpsed him. This morning, beneath the banter, there was a somber air in the room; the household was trying not to think about the fact that their collective safety was resting on Bill's ability to seem appealing to a normal man in spite of the fact that they were having a conversation, and he wasn't even able to convincingly pretend he had a plan.
Dipper was trying to get breakfast around Bill and Mabel. Once Mabel had puffed on a layer of setting powder, Bill twisted around to give Dipper an unnecessarily wide smile. "Hey! How do I look?"
He glanced up from pouring a bowl of cereal and grimaced. "Somehow even less like a real human than usual."
Bill laughed. "Yep, it's the lack of pores." He turned away to check his mirror as he applied his mascara.
Mabel said, "He'll look better once we get the lipstick on."
Soos ducked in from the living room. "Hey, uh, guys?" It was clear he'd been as distracted that morning as the rest of them; he'd misbuttoned his suit jacket. "I just saw the government dudes' car again. Like, in the parking lot this time, not lurking down the street."
The energy in the air changed, like a subtle electric current shooting through the room. "Okay, enough gawking at the freak show," Stan said. "Ford?"
"Right!" He grabbed up his coffee mug, re-thought it, and poured the mug back in the coffee pot and picked up the pot instead, then bolted from the kitchen. He returned a moment later with his arms loaded with his journal, several books, and a couple of guns that would definitely be illegal on Earth if Earth had ever heard they existed. "Basement."
Bill turned toward the doorway so fast Mabel almost smeared lipstick across his cheek. Basement? He hoped Ford meant his study. If they went all the way to the basement, and noticed that somebody had been moving around the rubble of the portal...
"Bill!" Mabel said.
"I know, I know." He turned back to her again.
A final line, and Mabel sighed in relief. "Okay, you're good."
Stan rummaged through the fridge for the first thing he could find to sustain himself and Ford for the day. "Hey, demon. Remember everything I taught you."
"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. "Don't claim I have a job he can fact-check, don't pretend I make more money than him unless I want him to invite me to a fancy restaurant and pretend he forgot his wallet, if he asks my age I'm fifteen years younger than him, my human family lives across the country, I don't have any sisters that might be prettier, and there's nothing I wanna hear about more than World War 2 battle tactics or vintage car repair or whatever hobby he's picked up to make himself feel more masculine."
"And?" Mabel prompted.
"And my favorite animal is cats, my favorite color is pink, my favorite flavor is chocolate, my favorite film genre is not slapstick snuff, my favorite time to get married is next week, and my favorite body part on a partner is their eyes still inside their sockets, but if I specify the socket part it'll worry him."
"Right! Gold star!" She smacked a sticker onto his shirt.
Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Knock 'im dead," he said. "Not literally. Unless you're sure the other two won't catch you."
"I'll see what I can do," Bill said.
####
The three agents eyed the sign that had been set up outside the Mystery Shack's main door. It said, "Self-guided tour today! $15" and there was a cardboard box taped beneath with a slit cut in the lid.
Agent Dale said, "Do you think that's for us?"
"Probably not," Trigger said uncertainly. "We have a warrant."
"Huh." Dale reread the sign, then tentatively rummaged through his pocket for his wallet and pulled out three fives. Trigger pushed his hand back down.
Soos ran around the side of the shack, breathing heavily. "Oh, wow! What a... totally random coincidence... running into you guys again..." He put his hands on his knees, huffing. "Gimme a sec. I was... running pretty fast... for no reason."
"Mr. Ramirez," Powers said. He held out a search warrant. "We're here to search this building for missing government property."
"Oh, dude, that's crazy," Soos said. "Do you like, have evidence that this property is in the building? Like, I don't know, any kind of... signal that it's giving off, maybe? That confirms it's here?"
Powers turned to Dale. He pulled his tablet out to check. "Uhhh... negative, sir. We're nnnot detecting the signal we picked up yesterday."
Powers frowned. "Hmm."
Trigger said, "Maybe the signal's... on the fritz?"
"Good point," Powers said. "We'd better search anyway. Dale, you start in the museum; Trigger, come with me to the back. I'll interview Mr. Ramirez." He gave Soos a sharp look. "And I hope you'll have more to say today than that you don't know anything."
Soos swallowed hard.
####
From the living room couch, Soos called to Trigger, "Be careful with the stuff in here, okay? This old shack's full of priceless antiques and authentic exotic curios. I glued half of them together myself!"
"So." Powers took a seat in one of the armchairs, opened an unlabeled manila folder and propped it on his knee, and clicked out a retractable pen. "Jesús Ramirez, correct? You prefer 'Soos'?"
"Yep, that's right," Soos said. "When I started school, my cousin Reggie, he'd yell at me across the cafeteria to sit with him, like, 'Jesús!' But some of the kids in my grade thought he was saying, 'hey, Soos!' And it stuck."
Powers nodded slowly. "I... see. And, you're the head of the household."
"Yup! That's me!"
"Property records say that the house is owned by 'Stanford Pines'?"
"Uhhh, yeah," Soos said. "He kinda, stepped down as head of the house, unofficially, and I'm running the house now. Also the business."
"And where is Stanford Pines right now?"
"Oh, he's out." (They had agreed that under no circumstances could the agents talk to Stan, lest something from last summer come up; and they definitely couldn't talk to the real Stanford Pines, whom they already knew as a mysterious superior officer from Washington.)
"When will he be back?"
Soos hesitated. "Ooout of the country. World traveling. Yeah, haha, he's been doing that for the past year with his brother."
Powers flipped a couple pages forward in his file. "His brother Sherman? Who lives in New Jersey?"
"No no, his other brother."
His other brother who died thirty years ago?"
Soos paused. "Uhhh..."
Dale ducked into the living room. "Sirs—I've found something interesting. You have to come see this."
Powers got to his feet, closing his folder and tucking it under his arm. "Excuse me." He followed his agents.
Soos heaved a sigh of relief.
"Wow, Questiony,—you were this close to collapsing like a house of cards."
Bill sauntered down the stairs. He was in a dress covered in yellowy-orangey triangles that managed, for the first time all summer, to reveal that he did in fact have curves, and he'd grabbed a set of green triangular clip-on earrings from Mabel's jewelry. A gold star sticker had been stuck on one of the earrings. Soos thought it was kinda weird to look at him all dressed up, with hair and everything. Bill looked like if Bill had a sister.
"Man," Soos said, slumping back into the couch. "I don't know if I can take another round of that. They're using some kind of government interrogation mind tricks."
"Relax," Bill said. "I'll take it from here."
He shut one eye and shot Soos a pair of finger guns as he backed into the gift shop, and twirled around to go pursue his prey.
####
Dale jogged through the gift shop, nodding to a couple of tourists as he passed—"Morning, ladies"—and ducked through the "employees only" door. A moment later, all three agents jogged into the museum. An older woman asked, "Why are so many handsome men in suits running around?"
As Bill let himself into the gift shop, he said, "Secret government agents! They're here investigating a conspiracy."
"Oh my," the woman gushed. "Isn't that exciting!"
"They'll only be here today! See if you can get their autographs!" Bill leaned on the front counter. "Hey, nice to see you back. You were missed yesterday."
Melody gave him an irritated look from behind the register.
"Surprised you came in, after how you felt yesterday!" In part because Soos was attempting to get as many people away from the shack and out of the danger zone as possible. He'd told Wendy she could take the day off, he'd persuaded Abuelita to go visit Reggie and his wife, and he'd tried to talk the kids into hanging out somewhere else for the day and only relented when they argued that their plucky 13-year-old adventuring expertise could be useful if things took a turn for the worse. Surely, he'd asked his fiancée to stay home too; strange that she hadn't. "Word is you're having trouble sleeping. Bad dreams? If it is, I could help you out. I happen to be an expert on—"
"I don't want your help." Her voice was a lot more venomous than Bill had expected.
He blinked in surprise. He knew she wasn't his biggest fan, but that seemed unnecessarily hostile. "Whoa, just offering! Don't bite my head off. Those don't grow back."
Melody sighed. "Sorry," she said insincerely, looking away from him. "I just... This whole plan bothers me. Flirting with some poor guy just to distract him."
Don't lie to a liar, girl. Something else was bothering her. Still, Bill only said, "Do you have a better plan?"
"Yeah? Just don't do anything suspicious and make sure Gompers stays away from the shack until the agents get bored and leave."
Bill scoffed. "And if they don't get bored?"
"Why wouldn't they?"
"Why would they? This town's got gnomes, fairies, and a crashed spaceship."
"Well—yeah, but, that's not a reason to focus on the shack."
"Never underestimate what the government will chuck tax dollars at without a good reason!"
Melody huffed, "Okay, fine. I still don't like it."
Yeah, Bill bet she didn't. Especially with the Bureau of Covert Investigations here looking for someone dangerous.
Okay—he'd given the eagles enough of a head start for it to look natural when he casually bumped into them. He straightened up, stretched, and sauntered toward the museum's curtain. "I won't ask you to wish me luck—" he lifted one wrist toward Melody and shook the bracelet covered in evil eye beads that Mabel had given him, "—just don't wish me ill." And then he followed the agents into the museum.
####
"Here it is," Dale said, stopping. "What do you make of this?"
He was standing in front of the museum's taxidermy Sascrotch display.
Trigger covered his mouth, trying to hold back a snort of laughter.
Dale grinned. "It's pretty great, right?"
Powers looked the Sascrotch up and down. "I don't get it."
"Heeey, secret agent man!" Bill swept into the museum and leaned against the wall, head propped against his hand, other hand on his cocked hip. "Imagine meeting you three days in a row, what a coincidence! I'm starting to feel like you're following me around."
Powers looked at Bill—and then started a little. (Not used to seeing him with his eyes emphasized properly, no doubt.) His cheeks immediately turned pink. Flustered, he stammered awkwardly for a moment before getting out, "I—I—Pardon me, I can assure you, you're not under investigation—" Dale and Trigger exchanged a glance and tried not to grin.
"Hey, whoa! I didn't mean it in a bad way." He flashed Powers his best smile. (He'd practiced in the mirror. Mabel had given him tips on not making it too wide.) "Say, since I was lucky enough to see you again, I've got a question for you, secret agent man."
"Yes?"
Bill batted his long, gorgeous lashes at Powers. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or am I gonna have to arrange a fourth meeting?"
"Uhh." Powers's already stellar posture somehow found a way to straighten a little bit more. "The first three times were more than sufficient, ma'am."
"Haha, you charmer!" All right, maybe Mabel had had a point about not opening up with a line about eyeballs. Still, this would be a cinch. Bill had been manipulating humans for millennia, and flirting was no different. Slipping into this role felt natural. He was in his element. He was good at this. He'd have this guy eating out of his hand in an hour.
Dale and Trigger looked at each other again, and Dale said, "Sir, maybe Trigger and I should search the house. You can take the museum."
"Maybe you could interview the locals," Trigger threw in, before they beat a hasty retreat.
"Ho—hold on!" Powers said; but his agents had already abandoned him. What terrific wingmen. Not the best agents, maybe.
"Sooo," Bill said, "if you aren't here to see me, what brings you by this old dump of a tourist trap again? It can't be the displays." He tugged out the waistband of Sascrotch's briefs with a finger and let go, letting it snap back against its waist; a small cloud of dust puffed out of the fur. "Still looking for some dangerous character?"
"No, not at the moment. Nothing you need to worry about," Powers said. "We're here looking for some... sensitive objects?"
"Oh? What kind of sensitive objects?" Bill asked. "I've been to this little tourist trap a few times, maybe I can help find 'em?"
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."
"What, you don't think you can trust me?" Bill batted his lashes. That had been working pretty well for him so far. (The mascara had to be helping. Man, was he glad to have mascara again.)
Powers avoided making eye contact. "I"m sure you're very trustworthy. But—it would be an embarrassment to the bureau, you understand."
"Sure! Sure." Billl's smile wilted slightly. "Well—I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I just watch, would you? I've never seen a real federal investigation in action—seems exciting."
Powers hesitated, his professionalism warring with his very obvious crush. "I... suppose I wouldn't mind." Sure, like he wasn't utterly flattered.
As Powers's inspection took him around the museum and back into the gift shop, he said, "You said your name was Goldie? I don't think I ever got your last name."
Oh he'd better not be planning on a background check. "It's Locke—and yes, I've already heard every comment about it you can imagine."
Powers gave him a quizzical look. "I believe you told us to inform Mr. Gleeful that a 'Mr. Locke' had recommended we purchase a car from him?"
He had said that, hadn't he. If he'd known two days ago he'd have to femme up for this guy... "Sure! I happen to be related to a lot of Mr. Lockes!" Before Powers could pry into this family Bill had just invented, he hurried on: "Say, I never got your name, did I!" Did he? Since he already knew it, he couldn't remember if he'd bothered to ask.
"Of course—I'm Agent Powers."
"Is 'Agent' your first name, handsome?"
Powers flushed a little more, and he mumbled, "Manny."
"Manny Powers?" Bill casually slid between Powers and the vending machine to keep him from looking too close at it. "Like, 'manpower'?"
"Precisely," Powers said. "Obviously, that's... not my real name, just my assigned codename for field assignments."
Bill laughed, "Hey, not bad! 'Manpower,' that's pretty funny."
"Is it?" Powers asked. "Hm. It isn't supposed to be. I'll have to speak with HQ about that."
Bill pressed his lips together. Tell him he's funny, Bill! Guys love it when you tell them how funny they are! Last time hetook advice from a human on anything. He shot an exasperated look toward Melody, who winced in what he hoped was sympathy.
Trigger ducked into the gift shop. "Sir? I think we've found something. Really, this time."
Powers's attention snapped to him. "Show me."
Bill maintained his position until the agents were gone; and then he let out a long, frustrated sigh. He glanced at Melody. "How are we doing?"
She grimaced. "I'd give it... three out of five stars?"
"You're generous, I appreciate that." He nearly rubbed his eyelids in irritation, and only the sight of his red fingernails reminded him of his makeup in time to stop.
In his heart of hearts, Bill felt like he should have already won by now—but then, he'd always hated waiting for things. Usually he could force patience on himself by finding a peephole that would let him see further into the future so he could tell exactly when his latest plan would succeed. In this body, he couldn't see any farther than a few minutes, and he didn't have any eyes he could look through but his own. Like this, he didn't even know whether he'd succeed.
Except of course he would. Of course. He always did. He didn't need to check. He had until the agents left to make some real progress, and that was plenty of time. He'd figure this out.
He almost backed into the living room, remembered at the last second that he didn't want Melody to know about his door ignoring trick, and said flatly, "Door." Melody reluctantly left her station to help open it.
In the living room, Dale was standing on top of the table, which he'd dragged over in front of the TV, and attempting to pry a board out of the ceiling with a crowbar. He asked Soos, "You're sure you don't have a stepladder somewhere?"
"Uh-uh," Soos said. He was hovering in the doorway, wringing his hands together. "It's against the house rules."
"We picked up a faint radio signal," Trigger explained to Powers. "Like from a walkie-talkie with a dying battery, or..."
"Ah-ha!" Dale pulled a gray blocky object out of a space over the ceiling. It appeared to be a radio: it had an antenna, a speaker, a couple of glowing lights flickering on the brink of going out... and a large Bureau of Covert Investigations seal stamped on the front. The eagle peering through the magnifying glass seemed as surprised to see them as they were to see it. "Is... is this one of our transmitters?"
Powers blinked at it in amazement. "What in the Sam Hill is one of our transmitters doing in this building!" He directed the question toward Soos.
Soos flinched. "How should I know, I didn't know this place was bugged! I would've unbugged it if I knew." He paused. "Unless that's a federal crime or something. In which case forget I said that."
"We're the guys that oughta know about it," Dale said, shrugging cluelessly. "Since it's one of ours. Weird."
Powers held his hand out for the transmitter, examined it, and turned it over. On the back a strip of black label-maker tape read, "GOVERNMENT PROPERTY! IF LOST, PLEASE RETURN TO AGENT TRIGGER."
Powers and Dale turned to Trigger.
He looked between them, baffled. "Wh— Well, I didn't put it there! I would've remembered putting it there." He frowned. "I mean... I should remember putting it there."
Powers's lips were pressed so flat together they were almost invisible beneath his mustache. "Well. Obviously, we ought to take it back."
Tentatively, Dale asked, "And... place a new one with a fresh battery, sir?"
Powers's brows drew together in anger. Between gritted teeth, he said, "Not with the civilians listening to you say so..."
Soos was still standing in the doorway, and Dipper and Mabel were peering around him from the staircase. Melody had peeked in nervously from the gift shop. At the callout, the kids and Melody had the grace to withdraw again. But Powers wasn't looking at them. He was glancing sideways toward Bill, standing right by his side—and Bill's wide-eyed gaze never wavered from Powers's face.
This wasn't good—they did not need the agents trying to figure out why they might have left a bug in the shack. Damage control time. "Hey," Bill said. "if you forgot about it completely, must not have picked up anything interesting, right? Otherwise you'da remembered it!"
All three agents' faces immediately darkened and they exchanged meaningful looks. Bill didn't like it when people exchanged meaningful looks he didn't know the meaning of. "Apparently so," Powers muttered.
"I'll just... take this to the car," Trigger said.
Soos backed out of the way to give him room to leave, then trailed after him: "So, are there any other bugs in here we should probably know about...?"
Bill waited until Trigger was already out of the house before he said to Dale, "Hey, does he have the car keys?"
"Oh!" Dale patted his pockets, then hurried out. "Trigger, wait!"
Once his agents were gone, Powers grumbled to himself, "'Place a new one.' What happened to professionalism." He rubbed his forehead. "Find one bug that you mysteriously don't know about, and everyone forgets how to act like government agents..."
He trailed off, giving Bill an uneasy sideways glance. Bill was still staring full force at him. He cleared his throat. "You... have an incredibly penetrating gaze, ma'am."
"Thanks! Keep talking like that and maybe it'll penetrate you," Bill really wanted to say, but didn't; "flirtatious euphemisms that could be about stabbing" and "comments that put the fear of the cruel ever-watching All-Seeing Eye of God in you" were both on Bill's list of banned topics. Instead, he tried, "Thanks! You're incredibly easy to look at!"
"O-oh." Powers adjusted his tie self-consciously. Getting a little hot under the collar, huh. "Am I?"
"You bet! In fact, I was just thinking you really look like dad material."
"That's... kind of you to say," Powers said. "However, I've never liked children."
"Oh." Bill shut his eyes until the urge to turn somebody's bones into thumbtacks subsided. "Sure, that's fine. I can take 'em or leave 'em."
"Sir?" Trigger called from the doorway. "What's our next move?"
"Excuse me." Powers left Bill, heading out to join his agents on the porch.
Bill drifted out to the entryway. Mabel and Dipper were huddled on the stairs. Bill shot Mabel a pained look and hissed, "How could you have steered me so wrong?"
"Sorryyy," she whispered back. "I thought the dad one was a winner!"
"I trusted you, star girl." He slid outside behind Powers just before the door swung shut.
And just before Soos came back in, looking stricken. Dipper asked, "What happened?"
"The agent with the movie star face asked what days the museum's closed," Soos said. "I think they're thinking about searching it more? And, he told me not to leave town? I can't take this, dude." A wild look had entered his eyes. "I'm not cut out for prison. I'm too gentle-hearted!"
"Shhh." Melody took his arm and gently led him away from the door, rubbing his back. "It's gonna be all right, Soos. It sounds like the agents are distracted. Why don't we close the museum early for lunch and try looking for Gompers again, okay? Maybe he's ready to come home. And we can get some fresh air, yeah?"
"Yeah." Soos took a deep breath. "Okay. You're right." He turned toward Dipper and Mabel. "Can you dudes handle the gift shop while we're out?"
"Sure thing, Soos, no problem," Dipper said. "You go ahead."
The twins waited until they heard the sound of the gift shop exit door closing, then Dipper said, "Not it."
"Me neither," Mabel said.
"The gift shop customers can take care of themselves for a few minutes." Dipper opened the back door a crack, and they both crowded against it. Bill—leaning on the wall next to the door with his arms crossed—glanced at the kids through the crack, raised a couple fingers in acknowledgement, and then all three listened to the agents on the porch:
"Well, obviously the flash drive signal wasn't a fluke. They must have hidden it since yesterday."
"We can't leave until we find it and figure out what's happening here." (Bill made a mental note to lord that over Melody later.) "What are our next steps?"
"Should we request more sensitive equipment to scan for electronics? There might be other transmitters in the building with completely dead batteries we're not picking up." (That seemed like a fast way to discover the door hidden behind the vending machine.)
"Maybe we ought to run some more background checks on the rest of the people here. How many of them have we checked out?"
A jolt of fear shot up Bill's spine. And that seemed like a fast way to discover that "Goldie Locke" didn't legally exist. "All right," he muttered through the crack. "I tried this the human way. Now I'm doing it my way."
"Wait," Dipper hissed, "Bill, no! What are you planning?!"
Bill ignored him as he sidled up to Powers. "Not heading out already, are you?"
Powers said, "As soon as Trigger finishes updating HQ." Trigger had walked off the porch and was now making a phone call. Dale surreptitiously scooted to the other end of the porch to give Powers and Bill room to talk.
"Aww, too bad. I was enjoying watching a real investigation at work!"
"Hm. I'm afraid you didn't see us at our most competent," Powers muttered.
"Hey, everyone has an off day or two." Bill leaned closer, just near enough for his bare arm to brush Powers's suit sleeve, and murmured, "And, anyway—not to bad-mouth these rookies, but even on a bad day it's already pretty clear you're the smartest guy in the room. I can only imagine how fascinating it'd be to watch you at work when you're bringing your A game."
Powers cleared his throat, obviously trying not to look flustered. "Well. Yes. We'll no doubt be around a few more days. Perhaps we'll... cross paths again...?"
Not good. Too passive. By now, this sucker was supposed to be falling all over himself to ask out the mysterious blonde. Bill could probably ask him out and it'd go fine—but he wasn't sure how attached this guy was to traditional gender roles, there was a chance it could turn him off.
(That was the excuse he told himself. In truth, part of him was getting mad. He wanted to be the one who was asked out. He should be asked out. He was more than good enough to be asked out, and this over-evolved eukaryote had no right to deny him that.)
He pressed, "Still, I hate to see you go. Three times I've run into you, and I hardly know any more about you than I did on the beach! I get that being mysterious comes with the whole secret agent territory—but I've been going crazy, wondering all night about this handsome stranger in town." He put just the slightest emphasis on all night—and threw in a wink for good measure.
"H... have you?" Powers turned to face Bill fully. "Well... some of my personal information is classified, given the nature of my work, but—what do you want to know?"
"For starters, I think I'm overdue to ask you whether you're single!"
"I—Yes, I am."
"Whaddaya know—something we have in common!" Bill pretended he had to think a moment before saying, "Hmm... Hey, here's another fun little get-to-know-you question: what conspiracy would you most hate to be true?"
(Through the ajar crack in the door, he could hear Mabel loudly whisper, "Bill nooo...")
"That's a fascinating question. I've often wondered it myself." Powers stared off into the distance, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I think I'd most hate to find out the government has tried to brainwash its own citizens. Not just propaganda, mind—that's fine—I mean actual brainwashing."
No way. Bill had to pin his lips between his teeth to keep from bursting out laughing. Somebody had forgotten to tell this guy about MKUltra. Wow. Wow. He worked for the Bureau of Covert Investigations. How did he miss MKUltra. Bill had to grope behind himself for the porch sofa and sit before he lost his balance from fighting not to laugh. When he was sure he could manage a few words without a giggle escaping, he squeaked, "Yeah, that—sounds... pretty bad."
"What about yours?" Powers turned toward Bill.
He had to quickly prop his elbow on the armrest and prop his chin in his hand to hide his mouth, pretending to think. He hoped his amusement wasn't showing elsewhere on his face—human faces had too many muscles to keep track of. "Mm! Hmm." While he was trying to get his laughter under control, Bill tried to pick out one of the countless conspiracies in his repertoire that was obscure enough to be impressive but not obscure enough to be suspicious. (Or "obscure" enough Powers didn't know about it—hello, MKUltra.) "Wow, there's—there's a lot that'd be terrible. But hey, as long as we're talking politics—" (Mabel hissed "Bill NO!") "—I've heard a rumor in the area that there's a secret crazy president that was kicked out and covered up in the history books, ever heard about that one?" That oughta grab his attention.
But to Bill's surprise, Powers frowned thoughtfully and slowly shook his head. "No, it's unfamiliar. It must be a local theory," he said. "If the government were to cover up an entire presidency, I'm sure they would have a pressing reason for it—but I do see how the concept would be alarming."
Bill stared at him. Did this guy not know anything the government was up to?! He should have been going out of his mind trying to figure out how Bill knew about Trembley. Powers wasn't the kind of agent who could tell decent lies. If he did know something, he wouldn't play dumb like that; he'd just tell Bill it was "classified." Did he really not know? But the eagles' search for Trembley's remains should have nothing to do with the memories Ford wiped from the agents' minds.
The Bureau of Covert Investigations was so covert, agents usually weren't even told about other bureau investigations they weren't personally part of. So...
Was the bureau running two investigations in Gravity Falls?
Had Powers not been looped into the Trembley case?
"Uh..." Bill scrambled to think of another conspiracy that might catch Powers's interest. (He and Trigger had mentioned Hangar 618; no wonder they had time to work on cases across the country if they were only handling half the active investigations in Gravity Falls—no, focus, focus.) "How about Big Fashion, have you heard of that one? The theory that the fashion industry's teaming up to take down ways for people to get clothes other than buying new. Thrift shops, fabric stores, sewing pattern companies..."
Powers nodded. "I'm familiar with the theory." (Oh good—Bill would've been embarrassed for him if he hadn't known that one.) "I'm afraid I haven't paid close attention to the evidence for it. I already buy all my clothes new—I don't like the thought of another man's skin cells lingering on the inside of my shirts, it feels unsanitary."
It was no wonder this guy had been assigned to Gravity Falls. Bill doubted he was weird enough to really fit in here—but he was just odd enough to feel the town's pull. "For starters, there's the assassination of the president of Valhalla Sewing Machines a few years ago. Sewing machines are one of Big Fashion's top targets."
"Something definitely happened there," Powers agreed, "but all evidence points to the hit being ordered by Crooner Company over their rival line of sewing machines. They did acquire Valhalla just a few months later."
"And Crooner's been battling the bad PR ever since," Bill said dismissively. "Neither company came out of that mess looking good. It was an obvious false flag operation!"
Powers frowned, and for a moment Bill worried that he'd said too much—that Powers either thought Bill sounded like a crackpot, or thought Bill knew too much for some small town civilian... but he said, approvingly, "You know your stuff."
Jackpot. Time to go in for the kill. "I try to! I'm interested in how the gears of the universe turn. Reality, society, politics, business—what greases those wheels? Who winds the clock? There's a lot going on underneath the surface. And I like to keep my eye on all of it." He lowered his voice. "Actually, I'm glad to see you in town. I've also felt like something's going on under the surface of this town, but..." He left the sentence dangling.
Slowly, Power said, "Something... paranormal, perhaps?"
"Ha! Between the Mystery Shack here and that 'child psychic' in town, that's the reputation Gravity Falls has now," Bill said. "I'm not the kind of gullible dope to get spooked by ghost stories without proof. But—whatever's going on here... it does feel spooky."
Powers nodded slowly. "Whenever I'm in this town, I have the exact same thoughts."
Bill fought to keep the triumph off his face.
####
Dipper whispered, "I can't believe this is working."
He and Mabel were crammed against the door, one on top of each other, listening to Bill say, "This has been a fascinating conversation. I'd love to hear more about your work... wink."
Dipper said, "I can't believe this is working even though he says 'wink' out loud."
Mabels shushed him. "Bill's doing great!"
Powers said, "Unfortunately, I do have to go submit my own report to headquarters. But, I'm free this evening. If you'd like to see a movie, or...?"
Mabel gasped. "Idea!" She tapped on the door's window to catch Bill's attention, and, when he glanced her way, she pointed out toward the clearing beyond the porch.
Bill looked at the clearing and twitched in surprise. Through the crack in the door, Dipper tried to see what Bill was looking at. He couldn't see anything in the clearing.
Bill turned to Powers. "Howsabout dinner? There's a diner in town called Greasy's. I've heard good things about it! For starters, that the food is better than the name."
Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Wait, hold on—he's not allowed to go out, is he?" But Mabel didn't answer; she was sprinting full speed up the stairs.
From the far end of the porch, Dale said, "Oh, Greasy's is terrific, I went there yesterday for lunch. Makes a damn fine cup of coffee. And try the cherry pie."
"Very well," Power said. "When should I...?"
"I'll meet you at the diner. Let's say seven."
When the agents had left, Dipper yanked open the door. "What was that?! Nobody said you could actually leave to go on a date!"
Bill shrugged. "It wasn't my idea, it was your sister's."
"What?" Dipper frowned. "When did she say that?"
"She didn't. She's going to."
Mabel pounded down the stairs, counting the steps under her breath—"twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty eight"—carrying a neon yellow posterboard folded loosely in half. She ran out the door to the clearing behind the shack, held up the posterboard—she'd written "♡ INVITE HIM TO GREASY'S ♡" in thick black marker—and announced, "Ta-da!"
"You're too late," Dipper said. "Bill already asked Powers and he already left."
Bill said, "I asked him because I saw her telling me to."
Dipper looked between Bill and the poster. "Ohhh. Hang on. This is a future sight thing?"
"Bingo."
"How long should I hold it up?" Mabel called.
"Just give it another ten seconds," Bill said. "That thing's fluorescent, I could probably see it from an hour away."
She bounced on the balls of her feet for a few more seconds, then said, "Okay!" and jogged back to the porch, beaming from ear to ear. "That was so cool."
"Hey, smart girl!" Bill caught Mabel's sleeve before she could run past him. "You know, I've been talking to humans for thousands of years, and you're the first who's ever sent a message backwards in time to me?"
"Really?" Her face lit up. "Shut up! There's no way I'm the first-first!"
"Hand on heart, Shooting Star, no other human's ever tried it," Bill said. "You can't even see the fourth dimension, but you still understand it well enough to send messages through it. I'm genuinely impressed!"
Mabel's delight reached a boiling over point. She cackled in glee, gave Bill a quick hug, and bounded into the living room, crowing, "I'M THE GREATEST!"
Bill watched Mabel zoom into the gift shop, grinning proudly; and then his eyes slid sideways to meet Dipper's. "What's that look for."
Dipper was leveling his best suspicious glare at Bill. "Oh, nothing," he said. "Just thinking about how, the last time I heard you say you were impressed, you were just manipulating me into letting you puppet my body."
"Hmm! Yeah! I did do that!" Bill said. "Did I say I was genuinely impressed?"
Dipper's scowl deepened.
Bill's smirk widened. "C'mon, kid, don't be jealous just because you're not the alpha twin. It'd make your sister feel terrible."
####
"You actually got a date?" Ford asked.
"Sure! As if it's hard!"
Stan smugly held out a hand, palm up. Ford shot him an exasperated look, but sighed, fished around in his pocket, pulled out five large one-dollar coins, and dropped them in Stan's hand.
Bill stared at Ford, brows raised. "I don't know what's more insulting: that you bet against me, or that you've stopped using paper currency." Ford didn't deign to respond.
When they had been absolutely sure the agents were gone—for now—Soos had gone downstairs to let the Stans know the coast was clear; and now the adults were gathered in the living room again to discuss their next moves. Or, rather, Bill's.
Stan said, "So there's still been no sign of Gompers?"
"Nope," Soos said. "He's really run off. Plus, me and Melo—" (at Ford's look, he corrected himself) "—Melody and I drove around earlier looking for him? You know, in case he came out of the woods somewhere? But one of the government guys started following me in a black car? Sooo we had to stop looking, and I guess we're still being watched."
"Which'll make it harder to sneak me out for my date without them noticing I live here," Bill said. Maybe they could sneak him out with the crystal flashlight trick he and Mabel had pulled before, but he'd rather not tell the other Pines how they'd pulled that off in case they ever had to do it again. "We might be able to split 'em up while we outnumber them, but if this goes on for long, they'll bring in reinforcements."
"Ford and I can't help distract them," Stan pointed out. "We've gotta stay inside. And Soos is the only one that can drive Bill to this date. With the kids' help, we've only just got enough people to split the agents up."
Ford muttered, "Meaning there's no one to keep a watch over Bill." He crossed his arms. "Letting Bill flirt with a government agent under our roof is one thing—but I don't like a plan that involves letting Bill out in public and trusting him not to throw us under the bus." (Bill had considered it, but decided it would just cause the government to seize his portal and Mabel to never speak to him again.)
"He wouldn't do that," Soos said hotly—to Bill's surprise. "He already had a chance to run away and he didn't! And if he wanted us to get in trouble, he could have just not helped at all!"
"I..." Ford looked for a moment like he wanted to protest—Bill expected him to protest—but then he grimaced, shut his mouth, and said nothing. There was an even bigger surprise. Bill wasn't actually making progress with Ford, was he? Bill stared at the side of his face, willing him to explain himself; but Ford avoided his gaze.
Stan said, "Listen, I don't like letting him out either, but I don't think we have a choice."
"All right, all right," Ford sighed. "Fine. I don't like it—but unless Gompers shows up in the next few hours, you're stillour best hope of getting out of this mess." (Bill decided to pretend that was praise and spent a second basking in it.) "Which means you have to find out everything the agents currently know and suspect, keep them away from anything that could restore their memories, convince them to turn their attention away from our household without the flash drive, andmake sure no one gets arrested. And you've got one date to do it all in."
It was a tall order—but the way Ford said it like a challenge, like he thought maybe Bill couldn't do it, made Bill's blood boil. "Piece of cake! Don't forget it's taken me less time than that to convince you to do a lllot more than that." At Ford's scowl, Bill grinned viciously. "One date's all I need. By the end of the night, I'll have this whole thing figured out." If he said it like he believed it, it was basically true.
####
(The only bits of this that were changed in the wake of TBOB were adding in the discussion about the Seduction Hat; and adding a short section establishing that Powers's team is not involved with the Trembley investigation and briefly mentioning Hangar 618. In the original draft of this chapter, I'd said that a different government department was handling the Trembley case, until TBOB established otherwise. Establishing that Powers's team wasn't on the Trembley case is something that'll be important in future chapters.
From here on out the plot arc speeds up and turns increasingly into some kinda fusion between a spy drama and a reverse heist movie. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts so far and your thoughts on where it's gonna go!)
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azathothweirdo · 8 months ago
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I really love this scene. It's the first time we really ever see how genuinely gentle he can be, and how much he does care for the children. The way he hugs Prushka here, and name her always gets me. He believes in full she is special from this moment, and is going to nurture this potential.
It's aspects like this that really add to his character. He's a man who can show incredible cruelty with no mercy. But he is also capable of being kind and loving. The part that always gets me and makes me love him is that it's all real despite what the end result is.
When he speaks about the children to Reg, he is proud of them. Fondly remembering what they were meant to be. This is is especially important because all cartridges look the same. Bondrewd remembers which kid is which even in that form. That what is happening isn't wasteful sacrifices to him. He respects them, he remembers them, because they are the children he loved dearly.
Love is really a curse and a blessing when it comes to this man.
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soratsuart · 3 months ago
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Now that Playful Land book 5 is out I can finally talk about how my favourite part of this event is that beating up Fellow does not count as breaking the park's rules. Damaging the puppets? Get puppetified, idiot. Beating up the literal manager? Aye, I see no problem here, chief
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saaltskies · 2 days ago
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i was gonna share my xenoblade thoughts the next day because i was full of them but very tired however it is the next day and i forgot how to thought
#dang 😔#i can try though ig#uhh spoilers below#ok first music very good#i have not done so yet but i like to sit down and listen to the whole soundtrack after finishing a game for the first time and i am looking#forward to that very much#anyways i love stories about death#heck yeah death and fear of change and regret and insecurity and hope and also flutes#the ending with the final boss in stuff was kinda giving me pmd vibes specifically gates and super#i love pmd so this is a very good thing#also i love when villains have some connection to theatre#the n and m thing was wack#like omg a guy named n oh huh he kinda looks like noah take off ur mask dude lemme see omg it is noah!! wow evil version of main character#wait is that mio#oh snap he isnt a version of me im a version of him born from his regret and the hope that he completely lost#very cool!#after the execution stuff and i added valdi back into my party because didnt have a hero in that because ghondor joined as my hero for a bit#and then left and i put him back in and i was like hey bestie how was ur day yeah mine was pretty good i just got locked up for a month and#just sitting there full of dread and anger and sadness as the clock was ticking towards death for the girl i love and i couldnt even be near#her during this and there was no hope of escape and then we were forced to watch her fade away before getting executed and i stood over my#body and looked down on it and i was taken to a place where i saw all my past lives and how me and the girl i love fell in love each time#but i always lost her until finally i did some horrific stuff and forced her into immortality with me never asking if she wanted this#because i stopped thinking of her as a person and more like a precious possession i need to keep in my grasp and our regret was so powerful#that we were born again through hope despite our other selves still living and then i decided to try again and the other mio stopped the#other me from killing me and plot twist they body swapped and the other mio died and the mio i know lived on with the other mios body and#then the other me got a lil too silly so we beat him up#so yeah my day was pretty good how was yours#like okay!!!!!!!!#great!!!!!!#ok i reached max tags bye
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inmaki · 1 year ago
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gojo showing off your back scratches to geto
( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .
contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)
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everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.
a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.
there was only one thing ruining his peace.
all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.
despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.
"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.
right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.
great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—
"i fucked her!"
suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.
big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.
"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.
"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"
geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"
unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"
"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"
at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.
"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.
"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.
it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."
suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.
a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.
"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.
turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."
it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.
not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.
and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.
"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"
an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."
"huh. surprised you could last."
as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."
geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.
even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—
satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"
he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."
over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.
maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.
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mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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loonylupinblack3 · 6 months ago
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Jealous
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, slight violence
Summary: Logan see's a guy flirting with you and gets jealous
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: this was written while i was sleep deprived and had no idea where tf it was going so enjoy
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Logan wasn’t a very jealous person. He never had reason to be; everyone knew you were his and he didn’t feel the need to scare anyone off. He knew you only had eyes for him, and he didn’t feel threatened by anyone else.
Usually.
Yet as he was watching you laughing with that guy at the bar, like he was somehow the most hilarious fucking person on this planet, all he wanted to do was walk over there and punch the guy square in the jaw.
He didn’t though, because he’d learnt from the past you were not a fan of his outbursts but fuck he wanted to. He could feel his claws itching to extend, to rip through his flesh and proceed to rip out that guy’s flesh. He knew you were dating Logan, he’d have to. He was a new mutant to the school sure but he’d been here for about a week. It was common knowledge you and Logan were in a serious relationship; he’d have to have heard about it by now.
So he was flirting with you knowing you were taken. He might as well have been flirting with death.
“Calm down there mate.”
Scott’s voice took Logan out of his stewing. He glanced at his friend, who had noticed his jealousy and was staring at him with an amused look on his face.
“Shut up,” was Logan’s gruff response, eyes going back to your smiling face, resisting the urge to walk over there and claim you as his right in front of the bastard.
He was also miffed with you, however. Surely you weren’t that dumb. Surely you could see the blatant attraction the man held for you. Yet you did nothing to diffuse the tension or let him know you weren’t interested.
“Dude, you’d think you had my laser eyes with the way you’re glaring at that guy,” Scott said, not helping Logan in the slightest. He wished he did have Scott’s lazer eyes so he could get rid of this irritating problem. 
Jean decided to walk up at that moment, casting Logan a weary glance. “I’m not sure how long he can take before he snaps.”
“I can hear you y’know,” Logan said through gritted teeth, though Jean wasn’t entirely wrong.
It was when the guy laid his hands on you, squeezing your arm the way Logan did, that he finally ‘snapped’ as Jean had called it.
His friends didn’t even try to stop him as he stalked towards you, knowing it’d be no use. Logan was ready to rip that man’s arm off his body if he kept touching what was Logan’s, and he wouldn’t even feel bad about it. He’d enjoy it. 
You turned towards him when he arrived, shining him a bright smile. God, you really were that naive when it came to other men. Logan knew he should be grateful, knew this obliviousness came from a place of love, where you simply didn’t see any other man that way so you didn’t pick up on the obvious cues, but right now it was doing nothing but irk him, seeing another man flirt with you and seeing you do nothing about it.
“Logan,” you greeted warmly, wrapping both your arms around one of his, and shaking the other man’s hand off in the process. A bolt of satisfaction struck him at the action, but it wasn’t enough to quench his overwhelming jealousy.
He tugged you closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment when you eagerly complied, and his irritation towards you lessened slightly. Noticing the man’s narrowed gaze as he watched the two of you however only increased it.
He raised an eyebrow at the man. “Something wrong?”
He tried and failed to mask his face, Logan seeing the twisted jealousy lurking beneath the surface. It was so similar to his own it caught Logan off guard for a second, and his own anger towards the man wavered.
That was until he opened his mouth. 
“Just the fact you can’t give your girlfriend more than five minutes of space before you’re crowding her again.”
Logan was going to kill this man.
You seemed to realise that too as your hold got a tad tighter, as if to hold him back. If you weren’t wrapped around his arm his claws would already be out, yet you knew exactly how to stop him, and had it so Logan couldn’t attack this son of a bitch.
“Excuse me?” was his response again, and the people around them quietened, as if sensing the danger.
He felt rather than saw Scott and Jean move closer, to protect Logan or the man he wasn’t sure.
The man scoffed, glancing at you who was certainly not smiling at him anymore. “You see her chatting to me and you have to barge in. It’s like you’re scared if she talks to another guy she’ll realise you’re not all that and fuck off while she has the chance.”
Yep, this man was dead. He couldn’t just run his mouth like that, in front of you, and expect Logan not to pummel him into the ground. He was going to make sure the man’s death was painful and slow, that he felt every cut and bone breaking.
Yet before he could do a single thing you stepped forward and gave the guy a glare so dirty Logan was relieved not to be on the receiving end of it.
“You speak about my relationship with Logan like you have any idea of what goes on between us again and I’ll fuck your shit up.”
The man looked so stunned he couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. “But you- but he-”
“Did you ever think maybe I like having him around? That maybe spending time with my boyfriend is what I want? And even if I didn’t, did you really think I’d prefer you instead? A man who barely knows me yet tries to speak for me and insults the people I love?”
Logan was staring at you in awe. The way you kept going, stripping this man of his arrogance and self assuredness, ripping him to shreds verbally the way Logan would have physically, well, it turned him on. You matched each other so well he couldn’t help the smug smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the now humiliated man.
“I think she said it all.”
He sent Logan one last glare, and he thought that would be the end of it when he caught the muttered “bitch,” the man sent your way.
Immediately Logan’s fist was in his face, slamming into his jaw, his nose, any piece of flesh he could find. He was barely aware of the gasps around him and you’re incessant tugging of his shirt as he grabbed the man by the neck and looked him in the eye.
“If you so much as look at her in any disrespectful way again, I’ll tear you to shreds.”
Then he dropped the man, watching him scramble upright and swear profusely at him- though not a single word or glance was directed at you- before getting the hell out of there.
Satisfied, he turned to find you glaring at him, hands on your hips with a stern look on your face.
Logan held out both his hands in defence. “What?”
“I had that handled.”
Logan grabbed you by the waist and tugged you close, and though you weren’t exactly happy with him you weren’t completely mad either, because the man had been a dick, and let him reel you in.
“I know Bub, I just couldn’t let him get away with calling you that.”
You sighed but pressed your head into his chest and Logan knew he was victorious. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah?”
You smirked, “I want to see how wild you get when you’re jealous.”
Logan grinned a purely animalistic smile as he brought you close, pressing his lips against your ear as he whispered roughly, “oh just you wait Sweetheart.”
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logansdoll · 7 months ago
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thank you
you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.
CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.
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It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.
Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.
Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.
That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.
So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.
You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.
A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.
"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."
Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.
'Shit.'
"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."
He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."
Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.
You'd need a serious shower when you got home.
If you made it home...
As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.
You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.
"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."
Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.
You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.
Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.
And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.
"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.
Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.
He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.
Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.
But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.
"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.
Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.
What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...
You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.
Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.
The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.
'Holy shit...'
Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.
He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.
Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.
With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.
Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.
From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.
His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.
Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.
"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."
His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.
As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...
"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"
The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.
"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.
It was a stupid one.
Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.
Or variations of it, at least.
"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.
His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.
You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.
"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."
He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.
You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.
"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.
Your gorgeous, thankful expression.
God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.
"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"
Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.
He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.
"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.
God, he was handsome.
Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.
"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.
"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.
It was adorable.
Someone so big and strong being so nervous.
Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.
Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—
"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.
You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."
Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."
"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.
You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.
"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.
A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.
Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.
You were something...
One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.
He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.
But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.
You must've lost it in the melee...
Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.
The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.
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mindmelter · 11 days ago
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A Better Marcus Than Marcus
It all started when my sister’s boyfriend, Marcus, did a complete 180. The guy used to be your textbook finance bro—straight-laced, all about stocks, cryptos, and protein shakes. He was also the type who’d casually flex his "intellectual superiority" at family dinners like he was the human embodiment of a TED Talk nobody asked for.
Then, out of nowhere, he turned into this fun, carefree dude. He started to grow his hair and beard and constantly walk shirtless, showcasing his unfairly perfect pair of pecs and set of abs. He even tattooed his arm—something I would never expect from him. It wasn’t just a change in style; it was like he had become a totally different person.
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I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Then it hit me—my sister’s ex, Dylan, a scrawny hippie who could’ve been the poster child for essential oils and “love, man” vibes. Dylan and I had gotten along great back in the day, mostly because he shared a little secret with me: a drug. No, not this kind of drug. This stuff could turn anyone into a bodysuit. Yeah, you heard me. One hit of this thing, and you could empty someone out, leaving behind a perfectly usable, skin-tight vessel. Thanks to him, I solved my bullying problem at school by wearing the jock leader's body.
Then, one day, Dylan disappeared from our lives after my sister dumped him. No warning, no goodbye, nothing. I thought that was the end of it. Turns out, it wasn’t.
Fast-forward to tonight. We’re having a family dinner at my parents’ house, and Marcus is here, all smiles and carefree vibes, making dumb jokes with my parents. It was the perfect chance to test my theory. I waited until everyone was distracted with dessert and pulled Marcus aside to a quiet corner of the house.
“I need to talk to you,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low.
He cocked an eyebrow but followed me. Once we were out of earshot, I didn’t waste any time.
“I know you’re not really Marcus,” I said, crossing my arms. “I know it’s you, Dylan.”
For a moment, he just stared at me, then a wide grin spread across his face. “Took you long enough, bro,"
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He opened his robe even more to show me his muscular body, looking like he was showing me an outfit and not another man's skin, “Yeah, it’s me. Poor Marcus never saw it coming. Injected this asshole with the stuff after he dropped your sister at your house, and bam! Marcus went to bodysuit city.” He chuckled darkly. “I’ve been living my best life ever since and with the love of my life."
I’ll admit, I wasn’t surprised. But hearing it confirmed still left my mouth agape.
"So, what now? You gonna rat me out to your sister? You wouldn't do that to good old Dylan here, would you? Not after I helped you turn your jock bully into a bodysuit. I even helped you out at faking his disappearance, I had to drive to another state to get rid of that bodysuit."
I smirked. “That depends. What’s in it for me?”
Dylan—or Marcus, I guess—laughed. “Alright, how about this: I let you enjoy Marcus’s body anytime you want, as long as you keep your mouth shut.”
It was a twisted offer, but let’s be real—I’d had a thing for Marcus since day one. The chance to have him, even under these bizarre circumstances, was too good to pass up.
“Deal,” I said, extending a hand.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, bro,” he replied, shaking my hand. Before we could head upstairs, my sister caught us in the hallway.
“Where are you two going?” she asked.
Thinking quickly, Dylan—Marcus—flashed his charming smile. “Your brother wanted to show me his collectible…uh…vinyl record collection. Said he’s got some rare finds.”
She bought it. “Wow, bonding over music. Finally. I’m proud of you two. Don't take too long, we're going to have karaoke." She leaned forward to give Marcus a kiss and walked away.
As soon as we were in my room, the facade dropped. I locked the door, and he turned to me, that sly grin back on his face. “Alright, bro,” he said, taking off his already unbuttoned white shirt and letting it fall to the floor. “Let’s see what you’ve been fantasizing about.”
I immediately pushed him down onto his knees, grabbing a handful of his long hair to assert control. “You’re going to start by sucking me off like a good slut,” I whispered.
His grin widened as he complied, reaching for my pants and pulling them down. His warm mouth quickly wrapped around me, and I let out a satisfied groan as he worked his tongue expertly. Once my cock was slick and throbbing, I pulled him back by his hair, forcing him to look up at me.
“Get on the bed, on all fours, now! You're my secret boyfriend slut now,” I ordered. He obeyed, taking off his pants and crawling onto the bed completely naked with his huge ass waiting for me. It was the sight I've been dreaming of ever since my sister introduced Marcus.
I walked over to my desk and turned on some rock music to muffle what was about to happen.
Climbing onto the bed behind him, I gripped his long hair tightly as I positioned myself. Without hesitation, I thrust into him hard, using his hair as leverage. Dylan moaned as I filled Marcus' ass. This wasn't our first time together. When Dylan was wearing my hot bully's body, he let me fuck him as a final revenge before he dumped the bodysuit in another state.
Marcus' back arched, and he let out a muffled moan, the sound drowned out by the loud music. I didn’t let up, pulling his hair like reins as I pounded into him mercilessly.
I leaned down on his back as I filled Dylan's—Marcus' ass with my cum. “You make a better Marcus."
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hoshifighting · 4 months ago
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i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz
thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33
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warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.
college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.
he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”
you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.
after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.
and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.
one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.
“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.
“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”
you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”
“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”
the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.
but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.
and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.
there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”
and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.
you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”
you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.
but then… spring party. fuck.
there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.
it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.
you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?
and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.
he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.
you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.
“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”
“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.
“wait a minute… are you jealous?”
the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.
“you’re ridiculous.”
“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”
“shut up, jeonghan.”
but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”
you blinked. “what?”
he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”
you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.
“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”
you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.
but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”
"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.
you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.
you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”
you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.
a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.
the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.
you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.
“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.
you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.
“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.
“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.
“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.
“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.
your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”
“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.
“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”
“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.
“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”
“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.
“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.
you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.
“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”
“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.
instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.
just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.
your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.
for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.
he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.
his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.
when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.
you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.
jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered
you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.
“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”
you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.
it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.
“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”
you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.
“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”
you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.
jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.
your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.
he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.
your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.
“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.
“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”
you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.
“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.
“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.
“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”
before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.
jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.
jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.
a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.
before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.
“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”
he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”
your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.
before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”
“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.
jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”
“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”
those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.
“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.
“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.
“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”
“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.
“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.
“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”
he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”
but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.
jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”
“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.
he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.
you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.
you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.
his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.
you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”
jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.
you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”
that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.
“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”
his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”
jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.
“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”
“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.
you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”
his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.
you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.
he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.
you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.
“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”
“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”
jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”
you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”
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missqhughes · 4 months ago
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ON THE RECORD | Q. HUGHES43
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-> quinn hughes x fem!reader
-> contains: dom!quinn, unprotected pnv, m!oral receiving filming sex, physical fighting, bruises and blood, sexual acts and themes, exgf!reader x vince dunn
-> IN WHICH: it’s the first canucks vs. krakens game of the season; and for quinn, this time it’s personal. when y/n’s ex has some words to say about their relationship, he shows both of them exactly who she belongs to.
-> locked in to this fic so hard bc i haven’t written in forever, so i finished writing it in the shower BUT NOT LIKE THAT I PROMISE. also there’s 100% discrepancies in real game play vs in this but please bare with me for the plot. (hope you love it as much as i do!)
*fic is not proofread
18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT
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y/n was never nervous for a game.
but nothing could take away the ache she had leading up to this one.
it had been a while since her and quinn started dating, and he had it out for her ex since she told him all the horrible things he did to her; cheating, lying, hooking up with multiple women during the season, making a fool out of her publicly. however, she begged quinn not to start something; let bygones be bygones and leave it be, arguing how she left it all behind her. he agreed, knowing he didn’t want any bad press on himself; as captain and as someone the media knew wasn’t a fighter in the league.
y/n sat with her friend in the suite , fiddling with the sleeves of quinn’s jersey, eyes following where he was skating; he looked calm, focused, attentive to warm ups.
“dude, you need to calm down,” her friend laughed, noticing her obvious stress, “nothing is going to happen between them, i promise.”
y/n looked at her friend, “i know, i know. it’s just… quinn hates him. i know vince, and i know he can’t help himself from a fight. i’m just worried.”
“think quinn can’t handle himself?”
“no i know he can, i don’t want him risking getting hurt over something as stupid as a fight,” she retorted, gaze still fixed on the ice, “especially with vince.”
“i think you’re being dramatic,” her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her cold beer, “it’s just another game, no big deal.”
y/n sighed, shoulders relaxing a bit, allowing her friend’s reassurance to ease the tension in her body, “yeah, you’re right. just another game,” she said, cheering her cup with hers.
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CANUCKS 3 - KRAKEN 2 / 3RD PERIOD
quinn was good at keeping his cool.
he had to, after all.
he ignored the glares from vince, his attempt at intimidation lingering through the entire game.
they didn’t come close in contact, until during a time out, quinn heard a voice call out at him,
“y/n here tonight? bet she came just for me,” vince chirped, a sinister, smug look on his face as he skated past him.
quinn stayed stone faced.
further into the final period of the game, he felt a body slam into his, nearly losing his balance and almost falling into the boards,
the whistle blew, and quinn was met yet again with vince’s hubristic stance,
“saw you’re with her now, how’s that goin for you? bet i come up a lot,”
vince spat, quinn skating closer to him, his temper beginning to spark in his body,
“get over it bud. she’s done with you.” quinn said calmly, the other players around the ice not aware of the situation brewing beside them.
“look hughes, you’re not special,”
with each word, the kraken gets closer and closer to quinn, puffing his chest and spewing hate, the hands in his gloves in the beginning of curling into fists,
“it was just you to get over me,”
quinn’s jaw tightened,
vince laughed bitterly, “she’s a slut, you tonight someone else tom-”
vince couldn’t even finish his sentence before quinn shoved him hard, both their gloves dropped as they fought, quinn bringing him down to the ice, delivering blow after blow to his face.
it all happened so fast, y/n heard the pounding on the glass, cheering on a fight, and feeling her stomach twist when she saw 43.
oh god.
none of the refs were able to get quinn off of him alone, his fists not stopping until they were bruised and bloody, matching the wounds on vince’s face.
quinn was panting with anger, face tinted crimson, a light bruise forming on his cheekbone where vince had landed a punch. he couldn’t feel the near splits in his knuckle, too riled with adrenaline to feel anything but rage.
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fortunately enough, the canucks ended the game with a win, but that didn’t change how fired up y/n knew quinn was going to be when she saw him.
she was allowed to be in the locker room during post game interviews, and she watched nervously as interviewers swarmed and crowded quinn, bombarding him with questions.
he was asked about the fight, detail, if vince had said anything to set him off, the why as a captain, he would start something on the ice.
quinn’s expression remained nothing short of blank, refusing to answer any questions regarding it, pursing his lower lip, “nothing to say about that. keep it about hockey and that’s it.”
after post game reports had finished, y/n waited outside by the doors for quinn to come out.
she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came out, pacing with worry about what the media would twist this game in to.
y/n heard the heavy doors click open, quinn in a lazy rendition of his suit, walking over to her; the bruise on his cheek deeper in color than when she initially saw.
“hey baby,” she said softly, opening her arms for quinn to embrace without hesitation.
“hey,” he replied, tightening their hug before pulling away, “cmon, we need to go home.”
quinn didn’t give y/n a chance to respond when he hooked his hand into hers, leading her to his dark tinted car in the lot.
y/n slid into the passenger seat while quinn loaded his gear into the trunk, she looked out the window until the driver’s side door clicked shut.
she looked over at quinn, an unreadable look on his face; he said nothing, instead putting the car in drive to go back to their shared apartment.
the drive home was silent.
the only sound being the hum of the car engine and their steady breaths. quinn always had his hand on her leg when he drove, but this time his hand was a little higher, his grip a little tighter, all whilst he kept his gaze fixed on the road. y/n’s breath would hitch ever so slightly when his fingers kneaded into her skin.
——————————————————————————
quinn was still quiet even after getting home.
frustrated, y/n spoke out, “quinn, what did vince say to you?” she said with a sigh,
“shit about me. about you. us.” he mumbled, taking off his suit jacket and undoing the black tie he had on.
“so, that’s reason enough to give me the silent treatment all the way home? you’re acting like that was my fault,”
“i never said it was your fault.”
“you don’t have to! it doesn’t take a lot to know you’re upset,” she retorted,
“y/n,” quinn started, walking over to where she was standing, holding her by the neck when he kissed her roughly, biting her lip when she moaned lightly into his mouth.
he tapped the back y/n’s of legs, and she jumped hooking her legs around his waist without objection.
quinn waltzed them to the bedroom, their kiss nowhere close to cooling off. quinn lightly tossed her on the bed, lips peeling off hers to suck and bite on the exposed skin of her neck.
y/n groaned lightly, beginning to unbutton his collared shirt, when quinn pulled off of her, leaving y/n with furrowed brows.
“quinn, what’s wrong?” she said, propping herself up on her arms, looking up at her boyfriend, confused.
“wait here baby,” he said, leaving the room.
she nodded, and about 15 seconds had passed when quinn returned to the room, his phone in hand with the camera app already opened.
“you want to make a movie huh?” she said, beginning to peel off the jersey that housed quinn’s name.
“only for our number one fan. leave the jersey on,” he said, “but everything else, off. now.”
y/n nodded, slipping down her pants and thong, her pussy already aching with the desire quinn had filled in her.
quinn swiftly undid his belt with one hand, lowering his pants and boxers to leave his hard length exposed.
“c’mere, suck.”
y/n obliged, moving down to her knees to meet quinn at hip length, the phone flash shining brightly in her face when she took the tip of his dick and swirled it around her tongue.
quinn groaned, moving his free hand to pull y/n’s hair into a ponytail with his fist. his breath quickened, y/n taking all of him in, bobbing up and down; quinn’s hips matching her rhythm.
he had almost forgot he was recording her, but when her lashes fluttered up to perfectly view the camera whilst she sucked him, quinn knew he was close to cumming.
quinn groaned louder, fucking y/n’s face, her moans sending vibrations on his dick that pushed him to his release. he pulled out of her mouth right when he was about to cum, y/n sticking her tongue out to collect his release.
god he was loving this.
he stopped the video as she wiped the leftover release from her face, pulling her up for a sloppy hot kiss.
quinn pulled away, the two panting with puffy lips, “bed, ass up, baby. now.” he instructed, reopening his phone for the perfect view.
“yes captain,” y/n said, just ready for whatever quinn had in store for her, her wetness beginning to seep down and stick to her inner thighs, burning for him to touch her.
after hitting record, quinn wasted no time aligning himself with her, pumping in and out a few times before going fully in, his hips meeting her ass, eliciting moans from the two of them.
his pace was rapid and brutal, moving her hair away from her and back into his hands, revealing to the camera the “hughes” jersey she was wearing.
“fuck, quinn! mm, so good— my god, fuck,” y/n moaned, echoing with the sound of their skin slapping against one another, her noises music to quinn’s ears.
he continued to pound hard into her, y/n’s knuckles white from how hard she gripped into the sheets, feeling her stomach tighten, about to reach her high.
quinn felt her pussy tighten around him, knowing she was close, “gonna cum baby? go ahead, cum,” he husked, coming to his second of the night.
she screamed in pleasure, her cunt coating his dick, mixing with his as he filled her up with his release.
quinn pulled out of her slowly, giving time to show the camera a view of her dripping puffy pussy, ending the video with a hard smack on her ass.
y/n yelped, falling into the bed. quinn turned her around, gently kissing her in her dazed state.
“you okay baby?” he asked gently, caressing her face with his thumb,
“mhm, but i think you killed me. i’m exhausted,” she laughed, quinn smiling and bringing his lips down to peck hers, “sorry, want me to go start a shower for us?”
“you know me so well,”
quinn crawled off of her, grabbing his phone before slipping into the bathroom,
he opened instagram, typing in vince’s username into the search bar, itching as he opened their messages tab.
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© missqhughes
xoxo, kaia
971 notes · View notes
flowersforbucky · 3 months ago
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sucker for you
peter maximoff x reader
word count: 1.2k
i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that
a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first
warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️
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Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.
He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.
From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.
And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.
As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.
"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.
Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.
"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”
He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.
Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.
“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.
Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.
“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.
Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.
“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.
“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.
“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.
Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.
“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.
He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –
“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.
“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”
“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”
“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”
“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”
“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”
Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.
You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.
“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.
His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.
“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”
You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.
“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.
He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.
•••••
thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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The House Guest 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes
Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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“When I said I owed you,” you whisper and look over your shoulder. 
“Talk as quiet as you want, he’s got super hearing. Can’t even squeak out a silent but deadly with this guy,” Sam chuckles. 
“Wow, that’s gross,” you crinkle your nose. 
“I can be a nasty boy.” 
“Not better,” you give him an apprehensive look as you face him. “I saw him on the news.” 
“Hey, I was there too,” Sam chirps. 
“I know that but...” 
“He got a bit trigger happy. We’re just waiting for things to blow over. He needs a calming personality.” 
“So not you,” you retort. 
“No, not me. I’m into choking but not by him,” he snickers. 
“I can hear you,” the man leaning on the car hood snaps back as the sucker in his mouth hits his teeth. 
“Oh, I know,” Sam shoots a finger gun in his direction. “Also, he’s giving up smoking so he’s a bit testy.” 
“No, I spent eight hours in a car with you so I’m pissed off,” the grumbly sidekick hurls back. 
You look between them. Sam Wilson, the new Cap, superhero, avengers, comedian, and Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, assassin, and... mystery. You should refuse. You owe him but that much? A near-fugitive in your house? 
“Sam, I don’t exactly got a guest room,” you cross your arms. 
“Look, if the dame don’t wanna take me, don’t twist her arm,” Bucky sneers and bites into the sucker, scraping the stick with his teeth. “I can figure myself out.” 
“That’s what you said before the explosion. I’m not falling for it again, man,” Sam shoots back and shakes his head. He puts his hands on his hips and faces you. “You’re not just doing a service to me, but to America.” 
“Yes, okay, but this is Canada.” 
His eyes drift in realisation and his lashes flutter, “right, but we’re allies.” He looks at you again and smiles, “I thought Canadians were nice.” 
You roll your eyes. “Goddamnit. Fine.” 
“Like I said,” Bucky approaches, “I can go somewhere else. I don’t wanna be a burden.” 
“It’s not you,” you assure him. “There isn’t much space, that’s all. If you’re fine with that, so am I.” 
“I told him, it’s not a big deal,” Bucky huffs. “But he insists.” 
“I have to insist. I’m the Captain now.” 
“You keep saying,” he turns on Sam. “So why don’t you get that shield and we’ll see if you’re really up to that title.” 
“Alright, alright,” you step between them. You’re not a fan of conflict. Sam knows that and that’s why he brought him here. “No need to argue. You got a couch,” you look at Bucky then turn to the other man, “and you have a long ride home.” 
“Wait, you’re kicking me out?” Sam says. 
“If you stay any longer, I won’t stop him. I said he could stay, I said nothing about mediating whatever this is,” you wiggle your finger between them. 
Bucky snorts. He’s just as bad as Sam. They seem to only know how to goad the other.  
“Fair. I mean, you don’t want this guy getting any grumpier. He’s already such a treat,” Sam smirks. 
“Enough, I just told you,” you wag your index at him. “Well, nice to meet ya,” you turn and offer your hand to Bucky, “welcome to Canada.” 
“Thanks,” he says, though you can sense him staring down the other man. 
“Sam, have a safe trip. You need water or anything for the road?” You offer over your shoulder. 
“Nah, I think I’m good. A nice ride home alone. With good music. Think I’m set.” He cackles. 
“You wouldn’t know good music if it shot you in the face,” Bucky growls. 
“Dude, go get your bag out of my car,” Sam snips. “Good riddance, is what I say.” 
“Drive safe,” you shake your head as you walk toward the house. “I was in the middle of something.” 
You climb the porch steps and leave the inner door open as the screen door snaps shut behind you. Out of sight, you stop to shake off the adrenaline. You only realise then how the unexpected rival stirred you up. You weren’t ready for Sam but especially not a houseguest. Still, the only reason you have this place is because of that man. You can do this. 
You take a breath and go back to the kitchen. If Sam trusts Bucky, you can too. You’re not one to welcome in strangers, especially men, but this is different. And even if he asked, it wasn’t much of a choice. 
You wash your hands and dry them before pushing your sleeves back up. The striped button-up isn’t exactly your Sunday best. You add breadcrumbs to the bowl of raw beef as you hear footsteps on the porch. The door opens slowly and gently hits the frame. You listen to your guest as he sighs in the entryway. 
The house is small. One-floor, a single bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen with a small dining table that doubles as your workspace. It isn’t much, but it’s yours. And it’s history. Your family’s. 
You sense him hovering just outside the doorway. You glance behind yourself and hang your hands over the brim of the bowl. You still need to chop the veggies but that can wait. It isn’t his fault Sam decided this would be the balance in the scales. 
“Let me show you around.” You cross the kitchen as he peers through.  
His beard is dark, his hair overgrown and pushed back behind his ears, and tugs at the bottom of his denim jacket. He looks skittish as you approach. He has a duffel bag in his hand. 
“Look, sorry if I came off short. You know how Sam can be,” you say. 
“I do. He assumes a lot,” he mutters. 
“Sure does. So, like I said, it’s not a big house. Kitchen here,” you point over your shoulder, “living room behind you, bathroom down the hall and the bedroom. There’s a back door. Yard’s bigger than the house.” 
“Got it.” 
“So, you’ll have to camp out on the couch but good news, it’s from 1987 so it folds out,” you squeeze by him and lead the way into the front room. 
“Beats a full barracks,” he comments. 
You nod and peek over at him. “Guess that makes sense.” 
He sniffs, “thanks. Really.” 
“Again, not too much,” you gesture to the room. “I gotta finish the meatloaf.” 
“Think I can handle it,” he affirms. 
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ashwhowrites · 4 months ago
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Hi! Can I request reader and jealous Eddie because he heard that years ago she had crush on King Steve or Billy and that makes him insecure a little because she's his first girlfirend?
But please with fluffy ending and his also reader's first boyfriend
Thank you for your time 💕💕💕
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Crushing on Billy Hargrove
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Eddie acted like he was confident in himself. He carried himself high and loved putting himself on a pedestal. He wasn't exactly an insecure person, but he liked people to believe he was never insecure.
And most times he wasn't. He had a girlfriend and she made him confident. She was head over heels for him and it was clear she found him insanely attractive. He didn't have any doubts about their relationship until they got a little high one night and spilled all their secrets.
Y/N had no idea that any of her confessions were messing with Eddie's head. She didn't think she said anything to make him worry.
Y/N was his first girlfriend so he had no idea what he was doing. And he was her first boyfriend so it put him at ease to know he didn't have someone to be compared to.
But then she confessed about an old crush of hers, Billy Hargrove. She said she thought he was attractive like every girl did, when he first moved to town. She had a thing for his long hair and bad-boy attitude. In a way, Eddie wasn't far off that, and that almost made it worse. They were somewhat alike and Billy was a whole other level that Eddie could never get on.
"When did you stop liking him?" Eddie asked, the weed doing nothing to settle his mind.
"The second he opened his mouth. Dude is such an asshole," Y/N laughed, inhaling the joint as she passed it over to him
"You've got a thing for dudes with long hair then?" Eddie asked, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Even if she wasn't interested in Billy anymore, he couldn't help but feel insecure.
She laughed and moved onto his lap. He ashed out the joint so he could wrap his arms around her.
"I guess? I never really thought I had a type. But I love your hair so much more," she smiled. She began to twirl pieces of his curls around her finger. She began to leave small kisses up and down his neck, but Eddie's mind was so clouded about Billy.
That night was weeks ago and now Eddie's stomach twisted whenever he looked in Billy's direction.
Y/N was a very attractive girl and it seemed now that she was off the market, boys were more interested than ever,
Including Billy
"While I do this, will you go get me a drink?" Y/N asked, she was leaning over the pool table racking up the balls.
"Absolutely," he said, leaning down to softly press his lips against hers. He headed over to the bar and ordered some drinks. The bar was busy and people were everywhere. It was a few minutes by the time he made it back to Y/N, and found out she wasn't alone.
He felt his hand grip the glass as he saw Billy in his tight jeans and half-unbuttoned shirt talking to his girlfriend. He wasn't sure what they were talking about and he didn't care. He walked right up to them and placed their drinks on the table. Then moving his arm to wrap around her waist.
She smiled at his arrival and slipped her hand in his back pocket.
"Hargrove, how can we help you?" Eddie asked
Billy smirked like he already knew his presence caused tension.
"Asking the pretty girl if she needs help with playing pool," Billy said, a flirty smile sent her way as he winked.
"I think I've got it covered, bud," Eddie hissed, removing his arm from her waist to step in front of her.
"You sure you're good enough to have that covered?" Billy asked, his eyes ranking Y/N up and down. It was clear he wasn't talking about the pool game.
Y/N shifted to hide behind Eddie.
"Pretty damn sure. Now leave us alone," Eddie said, his voice growing more annoyed the longer Billy stood there smiling.
"Alright, I know when I need to step back," he said. Tell her to give me a call when she wants someone a bit more experienced. I've never left anyone dissatisfied." Billy laughed as he stepped back to leave. He gave the couple a wink and a slight nod.
Eddie's control was lost in seconds. His body lunged forward as he took Billy to the bar's sticky floor.
"EDDIE!" Y/N screamed in shock. She had never seen Eddie get physical before and she blanked on what to do.
Eddie landed the first punch right across Billy's face, blood pouring from his nose instantly. Eddie gripped Billy's shirt and yanked him forward.
Billy laughed as he tasted the blood from his nose. A smirk on his face as he looked up at Eddie's pissed-off expression.
"That a boy, Munson. I didn't know she had a pussy worth fighting for,"
Eddie slammed Billy's head against the floor and yanked him right back up. The bar's security was already running to them but Eddie didn't move an inch. He leaned in real close, his voice low and deep.
"If you ever come near her again, I'll send your ass back to California in a body bag," Eddie released Billy's shirt and stood up as the security began to yell. He held his arms up to surrender.
"I'll walk myself out!" Eddie argued, and he softly grabbed Y/N's hand. His touch was far more delicate than it had been with Billy. Eddie looked down and kicked Billy in the stomach. Smiling as he groaned and began to curl in a ball.
"Now I'm done," Eddie announced. He held her hand as they left the bar and walked to their car. Y/N was still in shock, not saying a word as she tried to wrap her brain around what happened.
The car was silent as they got in, Eddie sighed as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He turned his head to look at her, a pout on his lips.
"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that, it was completely-"
But he was cut off as her lips smashed on his. He moaned as she hungrily kissed his face off, her hands in his hair. He felt like he could barely keep up as he kissed her back.
"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. You kicked Billy's ass!" She said in awe.
"Really?" Eddie asked he was even more shocked than she was
"Take me home and I'll show you," She said with a flirty smile
Eddie quickly shoved his key into the car and brought the engine to life.
"Yes ma'am,"
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suiana · 6 months ago
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(yandere! vampire x afab! reader) (cw: period blood💀, suggestive) (reader is gn but has a uterus)
he is the young lord of a prestigious vampire family family.
honour, money, respect.
he could be everything and anything. his status allows him to do so. and the fact that he's a vampire only makes him so much more powerful.
a young and educated bachelor of a prestigious vampire family.
elegant, smart, educated.
he'd never make a rash decision, always thinking things through before doing anything. careful calculations, masterful deceptions...
that's why he doesn't understand it when his friend tells him that period blood is tasty.
"dude, you've got to try it sometime. like, it's got this tangy taste and-"
"silence! how disgusting are you?"
his face is completely twisted, eyes narrowing as he glares at his friend of 150 years. what on earth is he talking about? tasty? tangy?
his best friend wasn't like this before. he used to be more composed. he'd never say something that vulgar.
ugh, it must be because his friend got that human girlfriend a while back. ever since they started dating... he doesn't even want to think about it. that human must have brainwashed him or something. like period blood? seriously?
...
he can't say much though. he's the same with you too. if you asked him to do something nasty with your blood... i mean, you're his mate! he'll do anything if you asked for it!
"ugh... my cramps are so painful..."
your vampire boyfriend immediately spins his ehad towards you, an alert expression as he teleports to your side to immediately rub at your belly.
"do you need anything, my love?"
"just for my cramps to stop hurting so much."
your boyfriend hates seeing you like this. all in pain, crouching over yourself. curse whoever made periods! how dare they hurt his wonderful lover? he swears that he'll-
"...babe, you're doing the thing again."
oh.
the vampire lord shys away, immediately hiding his fangs as he clears his throat.
"sorry beloved. you know how I get whenever you're in pain. you don't deserve to suffer, you know? I just get so passionate sometimes."
he sighs, shaking his head as he curls up beside you and snuggles up with you. ah, this is perfect- wait a second.
'dude, i don't know whether your mate will allow you to but whenever they get their cramps getting them to orgasm relieves the pain.'
why the hell did he suddenly remember his best friend's words right now?!
ah...
the vampire turns his head towards yours, a pretty pink hue on his cheeks asnhe snuggles you even more. it catches your attention and.. you can't help but raise an eyebrow. what the hell was your boyfriend up to now? did he kill someone in your name again?
"what?"
"you... have cramps right?"
did he hit his head or something?
"yeah? i literally just said it."
your grunt, feeling slightly more snappy than usual because your hormones were fucking everything up. everything was so uncomfortable, and the pain meds weren't helping either. sometimes you wish you could just tear out your uterus and never have to suffer periods ever again.
wait, wait, wait what?
you were pulled out from your thoughts when your boyfriend suddenly stopped hugging you, instead moving his face lower... and lower- hold on, is he in the mood right now?!
"w-wait! what are you doing? i'm on my period dummy!"
"yeah? i know?"
you feel your cheeks heating up as your boyfriend stares at you from in between your legs. what the hell? is he crazy? you know how much of a clean freak he is! he'd never do something so... filthy!
"get out from my legs then?! what if my blood gets-"
"i... heard from my friend that it would help your cramps go away."
he pauses, face blushing as he stares at your pants before glancing back up at your face.
"and you know how much I hate seeing you in pain baby. I don't care if it gets messy."
you could only stare at him in a mixture of embarrassment and horror as he begins to momentarily outfreak you with his behaviour. he's never... done anything like this before. and you know how much he hates getting dirty and so-called 'un-fresh blood'.
he's gone on a rant about how different fresh blood and not fresh blood tastes like before. you vividly remember his disgusted voice and his horrific face as he recounted what his best friend and hiss mate did.
and yet... he's doing the same thing now?!
"hey... you don't have to do it-! I thought you-"
"yeah, but it's fine. I'm doing it for you anyways."
you didn't know what to say to that so you merely sighed and let him do what he wanted to do. you never managed to stop him when he was set on something anyway.
...
so your vampire boyfriend ended up liking it more than he should.
um.
yeah good luck :3
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