#This will be a thought eventually I promise

[kxsagi]

Hi can I request Bllk boys with a karaoke enthusiast reader? They can go karaoke for 4 or 5 hours straight and know a variety of songs, and they can sing a whole song even if there’s a rap part in it :))

“𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫”

a/n: mic snatcher gf is so me

header pic is actually mine from when i went to japan! i love karaoke there sm it's unhealthy 😭😭😭

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, karasu tabito, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

he thought karaoke would be a fun, relaxing break. he thought you’d sing a cute love song and shyly nudge him to sing one, too. what he didn’t expect was to be seated for five straight hours, watching you go from adele to eminem to high school musical duets with yourself. 

he tries to keep up and sings sugar by maroon 5, thinking it’ll impress you. it does, but mostly because you harmonize with him out of nowhere and hit the falsetto better than adam levine himself. he literally stops mid-line just to look at you like, “how are you real.” 

at some point he’s like, “do you wanna drink some water?” and you go, “no. i wanna do nicki minaj’s verse in monster.” 

and you do. flawlessly. 

isagi’s face is in full admiration mode, but also minor existential crisis because you just spat bars while staring him down and now he doesn’t know if you wanna kiss him or fight him. 

still claps like a proud husband after every song. always. 

itoshi rin

you dragged him here. literally. he said, “karaoke is loud and pointless.” and you said, “shut up emo boy, it’s bonding time.” 

rin didn’t even get to sit before you were already putting on ultraviolence by lana del rey. and not just singing it. performing it. like you were the ghost of a 1960s hollywood starlet with a tragic past. 

rin sits in the corner, arms crossed, absolutely stone-faced. except his ears are red. 

eventually you hand him the mic and go, “c’mon, sing with me. be the toxic man in this duet.” 

it’s promiscuous by nelly furtado and timbaland. he says no. you keep singing anyway and he caves halfway through, quietly mumbling the lines until he’s suddenly belting it with a vein in his forehead. 

after three hours, he finally mutters, “... you’re really good.” you wink. “i know. now let’s do a kpop dance.” rin dies a little inside. 

nagi seishiro

he thought it was a nap date. like, nap room or something. you said karaoke and he just blinked. “do i have to move?” 

you promised him he could sit the whole time. what you didn’t say was that he’d be emotionally wrecked from watching you sing usher’s confessions part II with so much passion, he started questioning who wronged you. 

nagi only sings when you let him do the lazy, talk-singing verses. like pitbull’s hotel room service. you both call him “mr. worldwide” for the next hour and he doesn’t even fight it. 

at one point he lies down across the seats and watches you do three rap songs in a row. he lazily throws a pillow at you and goes, “you’re scary good. like, villain origin story good.” 

you grin and ask for a duet. you pick kiss me thru the phone. nagi’s too lazy to hold the mic so you hold it for him. 

he falls asleep by hour four and you put sunglasses on him so he looks like he’s still vibing. 

mikage reo

you said “karaoke” and he showed up in a designer outfit like it was a concert. your concert. he brought you a bouquet and called you his pop star gf before you even sang a note. 

first song you perform? flawless by beyoncé. reo is on his feet. reo is clapping. reo is crying a little. 

“that’s my girlfriend!” he shouts in a karaoke room with no one else in it. 

when you let him pick a song, he chooses beauty and a beat and tries to be justin bieber. you destroy him by doing both jb and nicki’s parts. with choreography. 

he’s flailing like, “HELLO??? DID YOU JUST SUMMON NICKI MINAJ???” 

reo insists on matching outfits for karaoke now. like glittery couple shirts and sunglasses. you’re down for it. you look like a power duo from a drama. 

he records you singing and posts it with the caption, “my multitalented queen > your faves.” 

bachira meguru

soulmates. chaos. pure, unfiltered energy. you two turned the karaoke booth into a full-on music festival. 

he picks songs at random, doesn’t even care if he knows the lyrics. you freestyle the rap parts and scream the choruses together while doing jump squats on the seats. 

once you both did a duet of low by flo rida and you hit the apple bottom jeans line so hard he actually slipped on the floor. 

you call yourselves the “karaoke goblins.” 

every song is a competition but also a performance. when you sing lady gaga, he does backup choreo. when he sings the marias, you become his hypewoman. 

there’s a moment where you sing something super emotional and bachira just sits there quietly, then whispers, “yo, that was angelic. i think you healed my inner child.” you bow dramatically and say, “now i’m doing doja cat.” 

“OHMYGOHS BOSS MODE UNLOCKED.” 

kaiser michael

he was smug. too smug. “karaoke? you sure you can keep up with me, babe?” 

fast forward an hour later: kaiser is breathless after attempting usher’s yeah! while you’re on your sixth song with no break, flawlessly switching from kendrick lamar’s verse to a whistle note bridge. 

he starts fake coughing. “i need– i need vocal rest.” 

you go, “no, get up, you’re featuring on dangerous woman with me now.” 

he can’t believe you actually hit the ariana grande high notes. or how you memorized pitbull’s chaotic speech in timber. like you didn’t just sing it, you channeled him. 

kaiser is convinced you were a popstar in a past life. every time you do a rap verse, he turns into your manager, hyping you up from the sidelines. 

“THAT’S MY GIRL. WORLD DOMINATION. GLOBAL CHARTS.” 

by the end of the session, he’s lost his voice and you’re still bouncing, asking, “one more?” 

he wheezes, “who are you, and how do i propose?” 

shidou ryusei

chaos recognized chaos. when you walked into karaoke holding a playlist labeled “bangers only”, he fell in love. 

you did a full nicki minaj medley back-to-back: anaconda, starships, and super bass. 

shidou was standing on the table. shirt half off. screaming. 

he says things like “spit that fire, mama” and gets booed by staff. 

you two turn every song into a war. “who can be louder, crazier, and more dramatic?” the answer is always you, but shidou refuses to accept that. 

he once sang taylor swift’s you belong with me in a death metal voice just to compete as if nirvana didn’t exist. 

you countered with a slowed-down, haunting cover of hotline bling. he’s in awe. he’s in love. 

“marry me.” “this is the fifth time you’ve asked tonight.” “and it won’t be the last.” 

itoshi sae

he hates karaoke. he’s never said it, but the way he looks at the mic like it personally offended him gives it away. you invite him and he just sighs and goes, “do i look like someone who sings katy perry at 10 PM?” 

you reply, “no, but you look like the guy who’ll sit there judging me while i flawlessly execute seven different eras of taylor swift.” 

that’s exactly what happens. you sing dress and he’s sitting in the corner sipping a canned coffee like a bitter ex who just got exposed on live TV. 

except he’s secretly impressed. very impressed. especially when you rap. like, you're going bar for bar on kendrick’s DNA and he’s just blinking like, “since when can she breathe fire?” 

when you try to drag him into a duet, he only agrees if he can be the background guy in something chill. so you do best part by daniel caesar and he deadass sounds angelic. 

he leans over after and murmurs, “that was tolerable. but only because you carried.” 

later, he catches himself humming a song you sang. and then he shoves his hands in his pockets and mutters, “karaoke’s not that bad, i guess.” 

karasu tabito

bro thought it was a joke at first. like you were gonna sing a little, go off-key, giggle about it. 

NO. YOU WALKED IN. WARMED UP YOUR VOCALS. PICKED AGORA HILLS. AND DEMOLISHED IT LIKE YOU WERE BORN IN A STUDIO. 

karasu was frozen. slack-jawed. his soul briefly left his body during the “like fortnite i’mma need your skin” part. 

he’s the type to talk during your performances but only to hype you up. “YO SHE’S COOKING–” “BRO SHE’S GOT BREATH CONTROL.” “I’M SCARED, BUT I’M TURNED ON.” 

he asks you to do a duet with him and you’re like sure :) and he picks dilemma by nelly and kelly rowland. halfway through, he fake cries into the mic. 

“EVEN WHEN I’M WITH MY BOO, all i think about is you 😩” 

you do the dramatic eye-roll and keep singing with a straight face like a pro. 

he can’t keep up and it enrages him. “you’re not even sweating? how are you not sweating???” 

he forces you to take a break just so he can perform something. it ends up being sexyback by justin timberlake with far too much confidence and pelvic movement. 

you tell him to stop and he says, “you started this war, babe. you wanted the full karasu experience.” 

ness alexis

karaoke? oh he lives for it. you barely even get the sentence out before he’s like, “yes. when. what’s our setlist. do we match?” 

the karaoke room is decked out because he booked the fancy one. disco lights. tambourines. a mini fog machine. 

you do the entirety of telephone by lady gaga and beyoncé, and ness is filming it with the reverence of someone witnessing a religious experience. 

“YOU’RE A STAR. I’M TWEETING THIS.” 

he picks songs based on aesthetic. you’re doing mariah carey with soft lighting and moody poses. you’re doing britney spears with hair flips and sunglasses. 

he sings justin bieber and makes it a full fan service show. baby has never been performed with so much falsetto and finger hearts. 

when you do a rap song, he turns into your hype crew. he’s throwing fake money in the air. he’s pretending to pass out. 

“SHE’S RAPPING EMINEM! SHE’S DOING THE FAST PART!!OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH.” 

ness is also the one who plans “karaoke themes.” like, 2000s hits night. or boy band night. 

once said, “if we don’t duet mr. brightside with full choreography, are we even in love?” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[hyacinth-in-a-haze]

Thinking about a deadbeat cowboy.

Tw- mentions of noncon, deadbeat bastard of a man , abuse, mentions of violence

He only shows up once he's back from his jobs, horse kicking up dirt as he comes to your lonely homestead. Greeting you smelling like whisky and woodsmoke. Throwing his heavy coin pouch on your oak table with a grin as he presses you into his arms.

"Promised you I wouldn't drink all my earnings away," his boyish grin disguising the anticipation as he waits for a thank you.

You step on your tiptoes to press a kiss against his stubble, at least when he comes to your home he shaves. Your home, not his, this is only a stop to rest his wandering feet, a trough for his empty stomach, and a body to warm his bed. Returning to pin you down beneath him at night.

The first time he had you was nothing short of a nightmare. Ambushing you in the dirt , violent and quick with his hand tight around your throat. A farm dog bent over a bitch. He left you there, in the tall grass outside your home, once he took what he wanted. The only thing you could comfort yourself with was the thought it was over.

The next night he returned, you were too scared to do anything but allow him to violate you again. Fighting got you nothing but a black eye and bite marks, at least with your submission, you got something more. Someone to fix the worn floorboard and the hole in the roof. Someone who eventually stopped fucking you like he meant to only hurt you, placing an unnatural kiss on your forehead as he held you to sleep. When he left after three weeks, you knew the cycle would start again once he returned.

"I didn't know to expect you," you mumble, wringing your apron in your hands. "Didn't make much for dinner only a pie."

Still, he smiles at that. He's not picky when it comes to the temporary domesticity you give him to keep him happy. You've learnt the past year that he always returns to you in between his jobs. Sure, he will darken your door, reeking of whisky, but he won't go to the saloon so long as he sleeps in your bed. Not all women can say that. Or can say their man brings them a heavy purse, treats from cities or traders wagons, jewellery from a wealthy womans neck. So you've learnt to live with it, to not ask him questions about how he obtained his treatures unless you're obviously coy.

He wraps his arms over your shoulders. Asking if there's been any unwanted guests in his absence. Any stray dogs he needs to shoot from his property.

You're not stupid enough to find another man. It would only end up with a bullet hole in his head and one in your ankle. Or maybe your cowboy would put a knife to your sweet face, making sure no other man could ever find you pretty after being ruined at his hands.

"I tell the townsfolk I'm married that my husband rounds up cattle on the ranches. It's only half a lie." You say as you plate up the pie. "Maybe you can come with me to town one of these days so I can prove you exist." You speak too quickly, a sense of panic creeping in. The ring you wear is nothing more than a mirage of respectability, but you needed proof before everyone decided that you spread your legs for the first man to knock on your door. You need there to be proof of him. Before he next disappears. Before it's too late to change opinions.

He only smiles at that. Waiting for you to sit opposite him before he grabs your wrist so hard you nearly scream.

"You're hiding something from me lovely, and we aren't gonna eat until you spit it out. So I advise you to hurry up before the dinner gets cold." He shifts his fingers, and you can swear you hear your joint pop.

"I'm with child!" You announce hurriedly before he snaps your arm in two, the shock of the realisation making him freeze. "I'm not lying about this, I swear ." You're frantic as he stares through you, eyes narrowing at the thickness of your waist - your corset can only do so much to obscure you from someone who's seen you broken down to nothing before himself. You're barely able to breathe through the tension before he starts laughing.

"Well shit. Guess I got to settle down with you now? Can't be leaving you alone with my bastard now, can I?" The amusement in his voice is exasperated rather than malicious, but your hands still tremble at the thought of his permanence.

"Not if I don't want anyone sniffing round my girl trying to do any charity."

[rafesyangel]

Rafe babytrapping innocent reader!

Part 1

You weren’t supposed to stay long at that party

It was just a quick stop, A favor for a friend, A house on the edge of the street , music thumping like a heartbeat, lights low, and bodies too close

You didn’t even know it was his party, Not until you looked up and saw him

Rafe Cameron
like Danger emitting from him ,Wealth in worn rings and bruised knuckles. He didn’t smile when he saw you, He stared. Unblinking. Like he’d already decided something you hadn’t been told about yet

You were sipping something bitter, trying to stay on the edges. And then he was there leaning in too close, smelling like bourbon and smoke, voice low and raw


“You don’t belong here.”


 “excuse me?”You blinked up at him confused semi flirting 
And he smirked, like you passed his test

He took your drink from your hand and sat next to you as he whispered in your ear

“Meet me upstairs " then he got up and left you , every inch in you was screaming at you to ignore him and dont let him ruin your night, you knew his was trouble, your intuition told you it won’t end happily for you , and it was 100% right

But you ended following him upstairs

The door slammed. The room was dark

He smirked as soon as he saw you , following him like a lost puppy ,his fingers started unbuttoning your dress with a quiet desperation like he was unwrapping something sacred. His mouth was on your throat, your collarbone, your thighs everywhere

He kept grabbing every part of you , kissing and licking it like he was a starved man


But finally when he got to be inside you, the energy shifted It wasn’t just lust

It was possession

His hands held you down. His voice in your ear, rough, honest, fevered
“I need to ruin you for everyone else.”
You moaned his name clearly not sober enough to realize what you have gotten yourself into, he groaned like you’d given him everything


Then the words came right when you thought he’d pull out
“You’re mine. You’re not leaving here empty. I’m making sure of that.”

Your breath hitched already starting to panic

“Rafe wh-“

Too late
He came inside you while his Eyes locked on yours as if he needed to see you break open under him , his hot seed filling you to the brim making your eyes roll back

“Shhh sleep baby you will need it” he murmured in your ear , patting your head

this is the last thing you heard before fell unconscious in his arms , sleep taking over

He woke up before you , left his phone number on a piece of paper under your iPhone with no sight of rafe in the room, you mentally promised yourself to never bring up this interaction again ,

Weeks passed

You and Rafe didn’t see each other again, with you ignoring all the texts and weird stuff he sent you

Unknown Number: “You haven’t answered me.”

Unknown Number: “for how long will you keep this bratty behavior with me baby ?.”

Unknown Number: “You will eventually come back running to me baby I’m warning you.”

This texts freaked you out with him not stopping with his weird behavior you felt sick in your stomach

When you thought life couldn’t get worse it got, the nausea came. The missed period. The pregnancy test. Positive

You stared at the tiny pink lines, heart thudding like a warning when your phone buzzed and snapped you out

Unknown Number: “im still waiting baby”

Unknown Number: “i will gladly take care of both of you”

[our-marvel-universe]

Second Chances

Second Chances Part 1

Ex-Husband!Steve x Reader

Summary: You and Steve have a history. Right now you are just friends but what if he wants more?

Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), PIV, mild jealousy

WC: 4.9K

A/N: I'm so happy to finally introduce you all to Ex-Husband!Steve! I started this forever ago and I thought it would be just a one shot but it has just gotten longer and longer, and harder to finish. So I'm hoping introducing this pair to the world and getting some feedback will inspire me to actually finish this story!

“Ok I don’t get it” Sam finally relents.

“You don’t get what?” Steve replies to his friend without taking his eyes off you. You're across the bar headed to the pool table with some guy Steve doesn’t recognize. He’s pretty sure the top you're wearing is new. You look gorgeous, but then again you always do. 

“What is the deal with you two? And don’t tell me it’s not nothing cause there's clearly some history there.” Sam insists. 

“Ohh wow, this is a new low punk, even for you.” Bucky chimes in.

Steve clears his throat and uses his only excuse. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“You never even told him? Seriously!?”  Bucky snapped, his voice low and tight in an attempt to restrain himself from reaching across the table and pummeling his best friend. 

“Told me what?” Sam asks, his patience wearing thin. 

“You are looking at the former Mrs. Rogers.” Bucky takes a long pull from his beer as he watches Sam’s eyes practically pop out of his head. 

“You two were married!?”

“Yup” Bucky says emphasizing the P.

“Damn it’s worse than I thought” Sam scoffs.

Despite what his two best friends are about to say he never lied to Sam. Technically he was single when he and Sam met. Besides, Steve didn’t like to talk about it, didn’t even like to think about it. When he did think about you, which was about every 45 seconds or so, he tried to only focus on the good things.

The way you light up when you laugh. The way you always insist on taking a million photos to commemorate any and every occasion. How doing the dishes somehow always turned into a dance party. The way you would curl up on him at the end of a long day. 

Knowing he doesn’t need to sit through this next part he makes his way to the bar to grab another round of drinks.

“So what happened?” Sam asks Bucky.

“They got married young, really young. Which probably wasn’t the best idea, but they were in love and Steve was headed off to war and you know how it is.” Sam nods in agreement, letting Bucky continue.

“We enlisted together. She made us both promise we’d bring each other home. The first tour was hard on her I could tell even on video chat it was like she was just holding her breath till we came back. The next couple times were a little easier, we came home once before why wouldn’t we come home again? We were on our 3rd tour, about a month out from coming home when,” Bucky places his metal arm on the table he inspects it carefully opening and closing his fist. 

“We got hit. I got blown from the Humvee and ended up losing my arm. Steve was ok, physically but..we lost a couple of good men that day.” The brunette sighs. “After the accident her and Steve took care of me. They visited me at the hospital everyday and eventually took me in when I got out. I had been out of the hospital for a few weeks when Steve told us he was going back.

"She just couldn’t do it anymore. The waiting, the worry, the distance, especially with me having been hurt she was convinced Steve would come back in a casket, and I wasn’t so sure she was wrong. But you know Steve. They fought… a lot and eventually she laid out an ultimatum. If he enlisted again she wouldn’t be there when he got back.“

“Damn.” Sam said, shaking his head, “That must have been hard for her to admit.” Bucky nodded in agreement. “And he really just left?”

“Yeah. Looking back on it now, I realize nothing was going to stop him from going. Everyone told him to stay, me, his mom, the whole damn town tried to convince him but he wouldn’t hear any of it. I kept hoping he would change his mind, you know, that he’d stop being so pig headed, but no, he just had to go. The day after he left she contacted a lawyer.” Bucky stops to take a long swing of beer. 

“But the former Mrs. Rogers is nothing if not a saint, even with her heart broken she still put all her energy into helping me heal. She let me live with her even after Steve left, took me to all my physical therapy and Dr. appointments, helped me get the hang of the prosthetic” He says flexing his fist on his metal arm. “I owe her everything. That punks lucky I didn’t leave him too.” scoffed Bucky.

“Ohh yeah why didn’t you?” Sam asks

“Because” Bucky said as he leaned back in his chair, “she wouldn’t let me.”

Steve is sitting at the bar, he could go back to the table with Bucky and Sam but he figures he’ll give them a few minutes to cool off and change the subject before he ventures back. He keeps his eye practically glued on the bartenders, watching them work helps him resist the urge to turn around and look at you. He knows you’re over by the pool table. He can picture you taking your time, totally focused, biting your lip as you  line up your shot. He can imagine it perfectly; the only thing better than his imagination would be turning around and seeing it in real time. 

He sees you land at the bar a couple stools down from him and watches as Pepper approaches you. 

“So it looks like the date is going well” Pepper says while starting on your drink.

“I don’t know if it’s a date per say. ” You say with a playful glare “But yes, Scott and I are having a good time.” 

Steve looks up just in time to see you shoot him a wave and a small smile before thanking Pepper and heading back to your game.

His jaw is so tight he’s worried he might actually crack a tooth and it’s like the entire world’s gone quiet. He’s not sure if what he’s feeling right now is rage or heartbreak, it’s probably both. Pepper is the one that breaks him out of his stupor.

“Loosen the grip on that will ya?” She says pointing at the beer bottle in his hand, “I’ll have to clean it up if you break it.”  

Steve puts the bottle down flexing his fists, before he can even ask she places a double shot of whiskey in front of him.

He tosses it back, then slaps some cash on the bar before heading for the door.

Steve isn’t a complete prick. At least he doesn’t mean to be, but it’s hard. As much as he wants you as much as his body wants yours that is not an option, and he’s still human. So every once in a while he sates his urges with an actual woman and not just his hand.  It’s a small town, people talk, so when he does need relief he heads up the highway. Making sure to avoid any place that you or anyone from town may decide to venture to. 

It’s never anything serious, usually just a night. There was Sharon last summer. He saw her for a couple weeks but he made it very clear it was never going to turn into anything and she was perfectly happy to get his late night booty calls. 

It’s been a few days since that night at the bar, Bucky has been on Steve’s case more than ever and now he has Sam as back up. Plus the vision of you on your date, is permanently etched into his brain. Where you looked so beautiful. Christ all he wanted to do was bend you over the pool table and….

Needless to say, jacking off was not going to be enough. 

So here he is. In some back alley behind some trendy bar in the city with what he assumes is probably a perfectly lovely lady on her knees sucking him off. But it’s hard to picture you when it’s clearly not you staring back at him. Before he can lose his hard on, he yanks her up and pushes her against the brick. He would apologize for being so rough but she moans out a yes at the manhandling so clearly she's into it. 

Facing away from him, ass up, he never preferred this position until he lost you. When he was with you all he wanted was to see your face. To kiss every inch of you, feel your sweat slicked skin against his, and look into your eyes as you came undone. He always wanted to be close to you, touching you. But he can’t have that so he settles for this. 

In all honesty this girl isn’t bad, she's just not you. She’s moaning and grinding against him in a way that's too performative, but when he hears a sigh a real sigh it almost sounds like yours and that's all he needs. He keeps hitting her sweet spot and rubbing her clit and he's so lost in his vision of you he actually calls out your name.

Now he’s not going to say this has never happened before, because it has. In 5 years of missing you and pretending to move on he has, on more than one occasion called out your name while another woman rides his cock. He’s not particularly proud of this fact, but it’s true. But this time the worst part is, he didn’t even notice. He turned to dump the used condom in the dumpster in that and when he turned around his face slams into a fist. He wasn’t entirely sure what happened cradling his face; he tries to get his bearings when he hears.

“You piece of shit my name is Kristy!!!” 

Damn. She knew how to throw a punch. In a moment of complete and utter shame Steve slides to the ground completely defeated.

Steve opens the door of his apartment to find Bucky sitting on his couch drinking his beer. Great, exactly what he needs to top this night off.

“What happened to you?” Bucky asks as Steve heads to the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen peas for his soon to be black eye. 

“Got punched in the face” 

“Obviously punk. Who’d you piss off this time.”

"Girl at a bar.” He mumbles then winces as he adjusts the bag on his face.

“Damn, bet she has brothers. Good ones too since she landed a solid hit” Bucky muses.

Steve doesn't bother acknowledging his friend. He simply grabs a glass and a bottle of whiskey before taking a seat on the couch. They sit quietly for a bit, when finally Bucky breaks the silence.

“So, what’s your plan here?”

“What the hell are you talking about Buck?”

“What am I…” Bucky takes a deep breath and stands calming himself  before he gives his friend a second black eye. “I’m talking about the fact that it’s been 5 years Steve. Five long years of you pining and making those sad puppy dog eyes when you think no one is paying attention. Which we all are by the way. You’re constantly pouting, until God forbid a guy shows any interest in her at which point you become absolutely unbearable.” Bucky is pacing now the pressure of keeping quiet all these year has finally come to an end and he's decided to finally air his grievances.

“You sit by the phone waiting for her to have a flat tire or for her furnace to bust, all so you can ride in like her knight in shining armor. Whatever she needs you’re always there. You’ve had every opportunity but instead of telling her how you feel you go out and fuck other girls pretending they’re her. All the while knowing you’d both be a lot fucking happier if you were together.” Finally Bucky stops his pacing and instead grabs a seat on the coffee table looking his friend right in the eyes. 

“So I ask again -  What. Is. Your. Plan?” 

Steve drains his glass then watches as his best friend pours him a refill. He drains that too, tosses the frozen bag down as he throws his head back and stares at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know Buck. All I know is I don’t want to live without her.”

“Ok then.” Bucky pours Steve one last refill “That’s a start.”  He says getting up to take the bottle back to the kitchen. “Word of advice, you better figure out a plan. And soon, because no one has the time or the patience to wait around for you to get your head out of your ass.” Bucky goes to grab his coat when he stops.

“Ohh and make sure you clean yourself up for tomorrow. Arm’s been acting up. I gotta go see the doc. You’ll have to handle all the morning appointments.“

“You couldn’t have just called to tell me?” Steve scoffs at his friend. “You had to come here and harass me and drink all my beer?”

“Yeah well, it’s more fun for me this way.” He chuckles as he heads out “See you tomorrow punk.”

Steve gets ready to head downstairs to Twin Tires, the shop he and Bucky opened after Steve finally left the army. Luckily for him he lives in the apartment right above the shop so he doesn’t have to rush to get down there. Which is good cause on this particular morning he feels like shit. 

After Bucky left he kept drowning his sorrows in whiskey imagining what life would be like if you had stayed together. Between the what ifs, his hangover and his black eye this day is off to an awful start. And now he has to deal with the shop himself cause Bucky’s not coming in till noon. Needless to say when he heads downstairs he’s in a shit mood, but then he hears you. 

He’s not sure what you’re saying or who you’re talking to but he’s sure it’s you. Fuck Bucky. In an instant Steve realizes Bucky knew you were coming by the shop today. All that ‘look good tomorrow shit’, he knew Bucky was up to something. You’re probably picking him up for his Dr’s appointment damn it. 

Steve curses under his breath, stepping out into the Lobby where you’re with Bucky. He was so focused on you he completely forgot about how rough he looks until you look up at him shocked.

Abandoning your conversation with Bucky you rush towards Steve without a second thought. 

“Omigod Steve! What happened?” You cup his face in your hands gently coaxing him to bend down so you can take a look.

“Aww he’s fine doll. He’s seen worse” Bucky chuckles as he takes a smug sip of his coffee.

Bucky isn’t wrong Steve has seen much worse, but at this moment he is not fine because your hands are on him. They’re so warm and soft, and he can smell that hand cream you use. In a split second you envelope all his senses and take him back to a time when the two of you always had your hands on each other. 

Steve’s breath fans across your wrists and realizing how close you are you take a step back. .“Well it doesn’t look too bad” You say as you begin to bite your lip, a nervous tick Steve immediately picks up on, it takes all his strength not to stare at your mouth like a horny tennager, so instead he moves behind the desk. 

“It’s fine. It’ll heal soon I promise.” Steve says in an attempt to reassure you, even if he knows it won’t work. He clears his throat as he opens the appointment book. 

"You two should get going, you don’t want to be late."

“You’re right Stevie I don’t.” Buck says with a wink as he heads to the door unaccompanied. “You two have fun, don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Bye Buck!” You wave him off.

“You’re not going with him?” Steve asks.

“What? No Clint is taking him, he didn’t tell you?” There you go biting your lip again, has it always been this distracting?

He knows he’s been starting too long when you gently call his name again.  Shaking his head out of his stupor he tries to actually focus on the conversation at hand. “Tell me what?” 

You look like a deer caught in headlights before you grab a coffee cup out of the tray on the counter and hand it to him. 

“This is for you. I made it myself with those beans you like at the shop just before coming over here.”

Steve stares at the coffee, then at you. He’s perplexed by the coffee, he knows it will be exactly how he likes it. He still goes to the bakery for coffee and it’s always perfect. But he’s confused as to why you would bring it to him on this particular morning. 

“Sweetheart…what’s going on?”

"Well I was hoping I could ask you for a favor…."

“Christ.”

“OK, Look I know this is a lot to ask but he’s a good kid Steve, a great kid! And this way not only will he have a car but he will also be learning practical life skills and an honest work ethic!"

“He already works with you. I am positive you instill plenty of work ethic in him.” Steve chugs the last of his coffee before tossing the cup in the trash behind him.

 “How on earth did you let May talk you into something like this?” He asks.

“She didn’t talk me into anything” You scoff, “it was my idea.“Look it's an old car, with good bones it just needs to be fixed up a bit. Besides, I mean don’t get me wrong I love having Peter at the shop but he’s a tinkerer ya know?” Now you're all worked up, Steve knows how much you love May and her nephew Peter, not to mention he knows how passionate you get about these collaborations you come up with. 

“He likes taking things apart and putting them back together, and working with his hands,” Steve cuts you off.

“Last time I checked baking is done with your hands.” He simply shrugs at the glare you give him.

“Where’d this car come from anyway?” He asks in an attempt to make peace. 

“One of May’s old boyfriends. He didn't know a socket wrench from an open wrench, but apparently he was convinced he could put it back together. He left it and hasn’t been back since. It’s just been collecting dust.” 

“Look,” You insist, planting your hands on the counter. “I know this is a big ask but when you think about it it’s a win, win scenario.” 

“Ohh yeah” Steve scoffs “How so?”

“Well Pete is a young man, who needs more positive male influences in his life. He’ll get that,” You say ticking off your fingers, “practical life experience, plus a new car.” 

“This sounds like a lot of wins for Peter and none for me.”

“And you” You say poking him in the chest “You get an apprentice!” 

“I don’t need an apprentice.” He protests rolling his eyes  before turning and heading back to the shop to get set up for the day. 

“Come on," You inevitably follow him. Just like you knew you would, " everyone needs an apprentice. Someone you can groom to take over the business when you’re ready to pass it on, just like Sarah did with me.”

“Look at Johnny Hunt , he had no one to take over for him so when he got hurt his store just closed. It was tragic. I don’t want that to happen to you Steve, could you imagine everything you worked for just gone.” 

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my business doll?” He has to hold back his smirk as you get visibly embarrassed by his question. Deciding to put you out of your misery before you have to answer he immediately gets back to the topic.

“What about Buck? It’s his business too, I can’t just hire an apprentice with his input.”

“Well I already asked him. He thinks it’s a great idea.”

“You asked him about fixing up the car, or about your plans to hand our business over to some smartass kid?”

“He said, and I quote ‘the sooner Steve teaches this kid to do the books the sooner I can retire to Palm Springs.'" 

Steve hangs his head. He knows he’s going to give in, not only is it you asking but his soon to be former best friend has already agreed. But mostly it’s you. He can never say no to you, not anymore, not after all he did. But he knows you will will sit here and argue with him till the sun goes down only to come back tomorrow and start again.  So he decides to drag his heels for a little longer if only to extend his time with you. 

But when he turns around to look up at you he completely loses his train of thought. The light from the window surrounds you making you look even brighter and more beautiful. Your eyes are boring into his with a pleading look when you say “Will you at least  take a look at the car please? For me?”

And that’s when Steve knows he’s a goner. 

Steve throws a towel at Bucky as he waltz back into the shop. Bucky easily catches it and settles himself on the stool next to Steve's station. He says nothing, taking a sip from his drink.

“You could've told me.” Steve huffs before diving back under the hood in an attempt to ignore his friend. 

“And why would I tell you, when you are much more apt to say yes if she asked you?” Bucky smirks as Steve's scowl deepens. “Besides it’s her project, why should I ask you?”

“More important question is why would you say yes!?” Steve practically shouts as he tosses down his tools and heads back into the office. The other guys working in the shop pretend to look busy as the bosses pass them. 

“Look there's no downside ok. We get to help out a good kid.” Bucky shakes his head at Steve's look of disbelief. “Look Parker can be annoying but he is a good kid ok? No one has a bad thing to say about him. And the guys are great with cars, but not with business. They can fix shit sure but no one out there can do the books, or even wants to learn but maybe one day Parker actually could and then we’d have someone to take all this over so I can finally take a vacation.” The brunette makes himself comfortable in Steve’s desk chair, putting his feet up and his arms behind his head. “Besides, now you’ve got some extra sweet brownie points with your girl and that sure as shit can’t hurt.”

That last comment makes Steve deflate “She’s not..” Bucky waves his hand cutting him off,

“Yeah, yeah save me the speech.” Electing to ignore his friend he continues  “So when does Parker start?”

Steve has been ruminating over it for days, and he has come to the irrevocable conclusion that having Peter Parker work in his shop is a terrible idea. He was ready to call the whole thing off. But then this morning he came downstairs and found you leaning on the side of your car with a box from your shop sitting on the hood. Seeing you standing there, glowing in the morning sun  in what happens to be his favorite dress of yours, he knew this was a done deal. No matter what he previously thought now he was going to  follow through on this crazy plan of yours.  

“Good morning!” You cheer, already holding out Steve’s coffee cup as he walks towards you. 

“Morning Doll, what's all this?”

“This is just a little thank you.” You say as Steve takes a sip of the coffee. He’d never tell his Ma, but your coffee is a million times better. “I just wanted to thank you again. I really think this will be so good for Peter and… “ Steve cuts you off. 

“Sweetheart, you already thanked me about a thousand times. Besides, you weren’t wrong, it could be good to have some extra hands around here.” Steve concedes with a shrug. While he ignores how hypocritical he is considering he was singing a different tune 2 min ago.

“Steven Grant Rogers, did you just admit I was right?” You’re smirking at him and you’ve got a mischievous twinkle in your eye and damn it if that doesn’t make his heart speed up. 

“Well, possibly. I mean for all we know Parker could be a disaster who should never step foot near an engine, only time will tell.” Steve chuckles as you lightly slap him on the arm.

“You just wait, Rogers, you’ll be eating your words soon enough!”

The two of you are standing less than a foot apart. Steve decides this is not close enough. It dawns on him, you are standing a foot apart in a parking lot, that is the set up for a brief conversation before the two of you run off in your separate directions. But that is not what he wants. All Steve wants is more time with you. So he quickly asks. 

“Are there enough in there to share?”

The two of you head back to the office and settle in over your makeshift breakfast. You take a bite of the scone and your eyes roll back in your head as you quietly moan at the taste.

“You’re acting like you’ve never tried any doll, you made ‘em” Steve chuckles before taking a bite.

“I mean I did” you laugh softly as you dust crumbs from your dress, “But I decided to tweak the recipe and this is my first time trying it” you bashfully admit.

“Man that's what I get as a thank you? New recipe scones? What if they had been a flop?” 

You laugh at his faux scolding and the sound lights him up from the inside out.“That’s why I brought them. I knew if you didn’t like them then I couldn’t sell them.” You shrug “Besides, I have brownies in the car as a backup” You say giving him a wink as you take another bite.

“I know you don’t think you’re leaving here with those sweetheart.” 

You’re talking his ear off, he has books to update, parts to order and schedules to make and if it was anyone else he would have told them to leave the food at the front desk and went back to his office without a second glance. 

But it isn’t just anyone…it’s you.

This may be what he misses most. Sitting with you, talking about nothing and everything, tasting your new recipes. The most mundane days were always better when he had you.

Steve thinks this might be the moment. He can ask you out to dinner. Or maybe it’d be better if he cooked for you? Either way he will be securing a date with you before you leave this office, he’s determined. Right as he goes to open his mouth to invite you on what will hopefully be a life altering date, there’s a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response Bucky waltzes right in, and makes a beeline straight for the box on the desk. 

“Ohh scones” Bucky sings, but before he can reach the box Steve snatches it out of the way. 

“They're not for you Buck.” Steve grumbles with a glare.

“Aww come on Stevie don’t be like that” Bucky’s pout turns to you as you begin to stand. “Doll tell him he has to share!” 

“Don’t be too sad Bucky, I have brownies in the car. If you come grab them then they're all yours.” 

Steve starts to panic as you begin to grab your stuff. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah, I should get going. Besides I need to get out of your hair, you probably have a busy day.” 

Steve moves out from behind the desk, trying to think of a reason to get you to stay but before he can say anything you're right in his space, leaning up and planting a kiss on his cheek. Thanking him again before you leave his office Bucky hot on your heels.

When Bucky comes back in a couple minutes later with a smug look on his face it takes all of Steve's strength not to wring his neck.

“Brownie for your troubles?”

“God I hate you” Steve mumbles keeping his eyes on the screen as Bucky gets comfortable in the seat you were occupying moments ago. 

“Hey don’t get mad at me. All I did was come in here to say hello, not my fault she ran off” Bucky notes before taking a bite of his brownie. “Damn, these are good.” 

Steve rolls his eyes.

“So are you making any progress?” 

Before Steve can tell Bucky to mind his goddamn business his phone lights up with a text from you. 

I told Bucky he has to share the brownies with you, but feel free to hog all the scones ;) 

Steve smirks as he reaches over and snatches up a brownie. 

OMG part 1!! Can you believe? What did y'all think? Do you just love these 2? Do you want to see more of them? Leave a comment below because reblogs and comments fuel the muse.

[notheconstellation]

"I cross my heart and hope to die if not" she promised. Was it a bit juvenile to say that? Kinda. But she meant every word. She wouldn't deny AM a chance to see the stars... Or anything else.

Not if she can help it.

The idea of AM going off line one day sounded...sad. really sad. But it wasn't like this war would last forever...eventually they wouldn't-

Andromeda closed her eyes trying to shake the thought away. Even if it was likely she would croak before the today happened.

"Wait, this isn't the right level..." Andromeda looked up from the stack of paper she was carrying. She had been sent to transfer paperwork between her level and three one down. She didn't have access to level C4. Her key card didn't allow her 'out of bounds', so to speak....and yet for some odd reason the elevator had taken her here. She had tried to step back in, but someone on a different level had called the elevator. She sighed, knowing she would have to wait. Andromeda stood waiting and silently counting the floor numbers.

@notheconstellation

A calm, but sharp voice would interrupt her reverie. "You're lost, aren't you?"

It was the machine she worked on. Allied Mastercomputer. He was a brilliant piece of engineering. Quick witted with a razor sharp tongue. He had several methods of seeing, be it his cameras or motion sensors. It's not a shock she'd been spotted so quickly.

[penelopehere]

How Rumi’s Parents Met HCs

a/n: Ryu is the name of Rumi’s mum

I personally believe her parents met when Ryu was by herself, patrolling the city when she spotted a demon lurking in an alleyway

Naturally she went to investigate, attacking instantly when she got close enough

However the demon didn’t fight back, merely defending itself and then disappearing as soon as it could

At first she thought it was strange, but just brushed it off as she went back to patrolling

However, when she spotted the same demon a couple days later, the exact same thing happened

She attacked, and he disappeared in an instant

This simultaneously confused and annoyed her, with Ryu now going out of her way to find that specific demon

She told her team about the unusual situation, but was reassured that he was nothing the hunters couldn’t handle

Regardless, Ryu still went out to get answers

It was weeks until she managed to corner the demon, pinning him against the wall with her blade to his throat 

She asked why he was in the human world, growing more frustrated as he remained quiet for a few moments

He then said if she was going to kill him that she should just get it over with, which threw Ryu off long enough for him to slip away and disappear

From there a pattern would emerge, with the two of them frequently crossing paths when Ryu was patrolling alone

Unbeknownst to her, the demon was actually seeking her out, wanting to talk more

She’d basically interrogate him about his life as a demon, trying to find his intentions for not attacking her

However, from these questions she’d learn he wasn’t loyal to Gwi-Ma, trying to escape his voice

While Ryu was sceptical at first, the two of them grew closer, with her even answering the demons questions about her

That’s when she realised she genuinely cared about the demon

Not knowing how to handle these feelings, she instantly went out of her way to not see him

Eventually she began seeing him everywhere; in the crowd during concerts, in the corner of her eye when she was on patrol, sometimes even outside her house

However, he’d manage to get Ryu by herself, asking why she’d just leave him and that if she wanted to end things she should say it to his face

They’d definitely argue, saying that whatever they had shouldn’t even have happened since they were so different

The demon would eventually leave, promising not to find her again if she really felt that way

Months would pass, with Ryu missing him more and more

Even the other members would notice, but she’d just say she was stressed about maintaining the Honmoon

She’d try and find the demon again when she was on patrol, with no success

Eventually, when she was alone, she’d start talking to herself; asking him to come back

The moment those words left her mouth, he’d appear; neither of them talking when they locked eyes

From there the two would confess their feelings for one another, despite the two being a demon and hunter, allowing for their relationship to properly start

She wanted to tell Celine, but anytime she brought up the topic of demons, she saw the anger and resentment in her eyes

So instead they kept their relationship a secret, dating for years as Ryu made sure the other hunters never found him

At some point they would get married, merely exchanging rings as a symbol of their union rather than doing anything official

However, when she fell pregnant, she knew she would have to come clean

I believe this caused a falling out with the hunters, with Ryu disappearing since she knew they would never accept her new lifestyle

She continued to hunt demons for as long as she could, doing it from the shadows so her former group couldn’t find her

Her husband would help her during this, using his demon abilities to his advantage and fully taking over when Ryu became too pregnant though

When Rumi was finally born, neither one of her parents knew how to raise such a unique child

At first they were cautious, meticulously noting down her demon attributes and any behaviours they thought were abnormal

However, they very quickly grew not to care about her differences and focused on making sure she was happy

Rumi lived a rather sheltered life with her parents, staying home most of the time until around the age of three

At this point I believe Gwi-Ma heard of a rogue demon that was helping a hunter, sending all his underlings to capture them

Their family remained hidden for a while, however the demons managed to track down the area and they lived in

Not wanting to leave the humans of their city in danger, and knowing that no matter where they went Gwi-Ma would find them, they tried coming up with a plan to defeat him

However, Rumi’s father knew that this was practically impossible, and decided to face the overlord alone

He quietly said goodbye to his family, leaving them in the middle of the night

Ryu knew exactly why he had gone when she realised he was missing, not knowing how to go after him while also protecting Rumi

Eventually, she’d run into Celine who had heard about the concentrated number of demons in the area

Seeing Rumi with her demon markings, everything clicked into place and Celine was horrified

Instead of explaining herself, Ryu pleaded with her to understand that Rumi was still her daughter

This managed to convince Celine to take care of the child while Ryu went to go look for her husband

I believe they would only reunite at the final battle, with demons trying to drag her husband back to the demon world

In the process, civilians were being killed as well, Gwi-Ma managing to slowly make his way topside because of the influx of souls

Here Ryu would do her best to protect everyone while saving her husband, the two of them reuniting amidst all the chaos

This would catch Gwi-Ma’s attention, with him directing all his resources towards capturing the hunter and her demon husband

The pair would manoeuvre around the city, trying to draw the mob away from the public

In the end though, they knew what they had to do

Charging to Gwi-Ma, they lured all of the demons back into his flames in an attempt to push him back in the underworld

This worked, however, at the cost of Ryu and her husband’s life

Celine witnessed the carnage, unable to stop Ryu’s sacrifice since she was taking care of Rumi and trying to direct all the civilians to safety

Celine blamed Ryu’s demon husband on all this, vowing to never let another corrupt those she loved

Therefore, despite being half demon herself, she raised Rumi to hide and despise her demon side

[crappymixtape]

tart like cherries, sweet like pie

you’re in the thick of summer and everything’s hot, sticky, sweet. after a long swim session in steve’s pool with the gang, you go to the diner, but when everyone starts to say their goodbyes, steve can’t stop thinking about you and the way you looked when you ate the cherry on top of your strawberry milkshake | (  1.7k, fluff, kinda smut, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

T A R T L I K E C H E R R I E S, S W E E T L I K E P I E 🎵 gap tooth smile, djo

“Touch my fries again, Munson, and you’re gonna owe me more than a dime bag!”

Robin slapped Eddie’s hand away from the red checkered basket sitting between them on the table.

“Aw, c’mon, Robs. Just one more? Promise,” the curly-haired boy smirked, holding out a pinky, only to be greeted with a skeptically flat look.

“Eventually someone needs to give us a ride back,” Mike snarked, mouth twisted around a frown, “Idiots.”

Max, Will, El, and Lucas all grumbled in agreement. You were all crammed into the half-moon bench seat at the back of the diner, tabletop covered in crumpled up burger wrappers and empty soda cups full of melting ice. After spending the too-hot August afternoon floating in the Harrington’s pool, you’d all begrudgingly crawled out, shoulders red and cheeks pink, to wander downtown in search of air conditioning.

“Hm,” Steve mused, “If only we knew someone with a van…” He grinned across from you, nudging your shin under the table with the toe of his shoe.

“Hey, now–” Eddie started, pointing a finger at the other boy.

“No, no. He has a point,” you cut in with a tut and a shrug, struggling to maintain a straight face.

“Not our fault you drive a mommy missile,” Robin snorted.

Eddie glared at all three of you, then added pointedly to Steve, “I thought you were the god dammed babysitter.”

“I was,” Steve replied agreeably, lacing his hands behind his head and giving him a saccharine sweet smile, “Until you so graciously joined this shit show.” Picking a fry from Robin’s basket, Steve held it between his teeth, “Besides, I gave rides back from the arcade last night, s’your turn.”

Roughing his hands over his face, Eddie groaned against his palms and stood from the table. IN classic Munson theatrics, the boy waved an arm in a big circle before shoving at Mike, “Alright douchebags, let’s go.”

“Wait–” Robin snatched another handful of fries and crammed a few in her mouth, “–I’m on the way, take me too.”

“Seriously?” Eddie gave Steve a desperate look.

“I’ve got a load of donation stuff in the backseat, only room for one with me.”

Steve gave you another grin, but this time it was a little softer, a little curious, and it made your stomach flip over, your brain lapsing for a half second before kickstarting again.

“Yeah–yeah, I can’t go yet. I haven’t even touched my shake,” you clumsily added, cheeks flush as you leaned down and took a long sip of blended strawberry ice cream.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered under his breath, “Fine. Fine. I’ll be the responsible one–and don’t ever say I never did anything for you shitheads!”

“Oh my god–Saint Munson,” Max snarked, mouth tipped up in a half-grin when you and Steve choked on fries and milkshake, “Guardian of children and stupid, nerdy shit.”

Eddie frowned, hands on his hips, “Watch it, Red.”

Then, one by one, the kids all mumbled their goodbyes to you and Steve, giving one-armed hugs as they piled out of the rounded bench seat after Eddie who had already gotten halfway to the door.

“Praised be to Saint Munson!” Steve called after them and Eddie thanked him with an emphatically lifted middle finger without even looking back.

The bell at the front jingled happily as Lucas held the door open for the gang, and then, giving you both a little finger waggle goodbye, the diner fell quiet.

“Saint Munson,” Steve laughed under his breath, “Wish I’d thought of that.”

“You’ll get him next time,” you reassured, kicking at his foot under the table and it pulled his eyes up to meet yours. Warm, brown sugar and honey, framed with thick lashes, crinkled at the edges with a smile.

“Thanks, Bug.”

Your birthday’s in June? Oh, well then I’m gonna call you Bug. Is that okay? You know, like a June bug?

Bug.

Sweet Bug.

His Bug.

Heat crackled in your chest as you returned his smile and leaned down to take another sip of milkshake. Steve’s eyes were still on you, and when you wrapped your lips around your straw, the black of his irises bloomed outward, amber and caramel flashing dark. When he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing against the moles dotting down the column of his throat, you paused.

Friends since second grade, scraped knees and broken arms, summer’s spent floating in the pool and jumping into the quarry. Melted popsicles and dirt roads, coconut sunscreen and freckles, citrus and cedar and fresh laundry and

Steve. Steve. Steve.

Dipping your fingers into your glass, you picked up the cherry at the bottom and lifted it to your lips. Hesitating at the idea of what you were about to do, you watched as Steve blinked at you from across the table, lashes sweeping across the tops of his cheeks while his hands pressed heavy into the red, vinyl seat.

Putting the cherry to your glossy lips, you slipped your tongue under it, pulled it between your teeth and held it there for just a second, watching as Steve unraveled before your eyes. He bit down hard, jaw ticking, muscles strained and eyes glued to your mouth and the way your teeth pressed against the soft fruit, a dot of whipped cream clinging to the corner of your lips.

Finally, slowly, you sunk your teeth into it, a tiny trickle of juice dripping down your chin as you sucked the cherry in, and Steve looked like he might pass out. His too-cool demeanor blown out and boiling over, mouth parted in awe as he tracked the movement of your tongue running along your bottom lip, gathering up the juice and whipped cream.

“I gotta get this table bussed, hon,” a voice shattered the tension between you like a glass and both of you locking onto the waitress, caught.

“Oh–oh right. Course. S–sorry. We’re done. Right? We’re all done. Here–uh–lemme just grab–” Words were spilling out of Steve’s mouth like an open tap, clumsy and fumbling as he dug a wad of bills from his pocket, “Can keep the change. Great food! Great food. Thanks a bunch.”

“Mmhm,” she mumbled with an eye roll, as both of you clambered out of the booth.

Steve hit the door first, car keys clanking against his fingers as his feet hit the sidewalk, body like a furnace not from the summer heatwave, not the last rays of sun stretching up the side of the building, but from you.

You and the way that cherry looked between your teeth, the sharp angles of your cheeks when you sucked in and they hollowed out, the glitter in your eyes as you held his gaze and dared him to keep watching.

“Steve! Wait up–”

Reaching out your hand, your fingers brushed against his, straining for purchase until you finally grabbed hold and tugged, stopping him just as he reached the BMW. He turned around, mouth working around a smile when he finally looked down at you, expression unsure, struggling against shame and want and adoration.

“I’m sorry if I–if I made you uncomfortable or–or–” your words wouldn’t come out, caught in your throat, the feeling at the pit of your stomach teetering between embarrassed and wanting more. “Stupid,” you muttered under your breath, gaze dropping to your feet, but then Steve chuckled and you glanced back up.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at you, cheeks flushed and pink, no longer King Steve, but someone softer. Someone who wanted to try and put words to feelings.

“Honestly?” he said, brows quirking up, “So hot. Like…I don’t think you realize what you were doing to me in there, Bug.” Lifting a hand to your cheek, he ghosted his fingers down the line of your jaw, holding your chin between his thumb and pointer. “Wrecked me,” he admitted, voice lower, warmer, “Is that what you wanted?”

Heat pooled between your legs at his words, his touch, the way he held you in his hand, firm, but careful. Swallowing your nerves, you took a step into him and held his gaze, “What if I said yes?”

“Gonna kill me,” he whispered, pressing his other hand to your hip and sliding two fingers into the belt loop on your jeans to tug you into him.

You could feel the sun radiating from him, warm through the thin, white fabric of his shirt, and you wondered for split second what it would feel like to put your hands on him. Bare skin, golden, sun kissed, fingers chasing freckles across his belly, bumping up his ribs and over his chest.

“Can’t,” you whispered back, “Cos I then I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Taking a deep breath you pushed up onto your toes and wrapped an arm behind his head, pulled him down into you and pressed your lips to his, swallowing the gasp he’d sucked in.

It tasted like strawberry milkshake, tart cherry and whipped cream. Like every June, July, and August you spent together. All the restraint and tension melting away like ice cream in the sun only to be replaced by this heat, making room for something more.

He ran his tongue against the seam of your lips and you opened to him, let him into your mouth and licked at the way he searched you. He loosed a pained sound that you greedily swallowed, sucking his bottom lip as you pulled away and when you finally looked back up at him, he was completely wrecked. Hair sticking out at the nape of his neck where you’d tangled your fingers, running your nails against the skin there, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake.

“Take me home?” you asked quietly, a secret code only he could decipher.

Want you. Need you. More. More. More.

And Steve didn’t make you ask twice, stealing one more kiss before driving you back to his where you’d get lost between the sheets. Tracing each other like a pattern, a maze of sleepless bliss, bodies fitted together like two sides of a locket as you moved in the dark and pulled soft sounds from your lips – asking each other again and again for another

and another

and another.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[kirsteinsluvx]

royal knight!satoru x princess!reader - angst, fluff, forbidden relationships, eventual smut, 4.7k words. first fic kinda nervous lol!

Satoru had been sent off to battle, it's been weeks now with no news back from him, you spent your nights wondering if he was even alive, if he'd ever come back to you. While he was gone, it had been the worst few months of your life as a dreadful decision had been made for you.

You're in your private royal chambers when all of a sudden the door swings open, revealing a bruised satoru, he steps in locking the door behind him. He approaches you sat on the edge of you bed and gets down on one knee, kissing your hand. "I have returned, your highness." He says with a smirk like he always does, except this time he looks exhausted, he looks as though he came straight from the battlefield.

You help him up off his knees and get him up to sit on the edge of the bed, "Come here, get up" you whisper. He lets you help him onto the bed and a small grunt of pain escapes his lips as he winces from one of his bruises. Once you guide him to sit on the bed and he grabs your wrist lightly to pull you closer to him, wanting you to stand between his spread legs so he can look up at you.

"Oh God... what happened to you?" Your eyes fill up with concern as you cup his face studying the state of him, noticing the bruises and cuts from battle, how he reeks of blood sweat and smoke. he can tell that you’re upset and the sight of your eyes welling up with tears has his usual cocky smirk disappearing.

He sighs deeply and his hands go to your waist, the coldness of his hand seeping through your nightgown, he looks up at you "I got into a pretty tough fight... nothing I couldn’t handle though.." he reassures you faintly.

He reaches up to gently wipe the tears away with his thumb, he frowns when he sees the tears streaming down your face and he hates himself for making you cry, for making you worry so much. He pulls you closer towards him and presses his forehead against your chest as he whispers softly. "hey..I’m okay, please don’t cry.." he was always so gentle with you.

"I'm sorry, I just thought I had lost you" you sniffle your hand going through his hair.

He hums softly as you run your fingers through his hair, he always loved when you play with his hair and he sighs softly again at the feeling of your fingers running through his messy white locks as he relaxes into your touch.

He chuckles softly, his voice slightly strained. "you could never lose me princess.. I promised you I’d always come back.. you can’t get rid of me that easily". You laugh softly at that wiping your tears.

He buries his face against your chest, inhaling your scent and relishing the familiar smell of you, his strong arms around your waist keep you from moving away as he nuzzles his face against you.

After a few minutes of embracing each other, you say softly. "Let me take care of you... get u out of this armour, give you a bath, hm?"

He nods lightly in response, pulling away from you, his hands going to the straps of his armour, working on unbuckling them, however from the exhaustion of the fight his hand are quite shaking slightly and he’s struggling to undo the straps.

her softer hands covers his shaking calloused hands "I got it, don't worry.."

he immediately stops what he’s doing and allows you to take over, he can tell that you want to take care of him, which he secretly loves.

He places his hands lightly on your hips as you take care of unbuckling the heavy straps that hold his now damaged and scratched armour on. He looks up at you as you work on his gear and a small tender smile forms on his bruised yet handsome features, he was quite literally perfect you thought.

As you remove the last strap of his armour, his chest is now bare and exposed to you, his muscular torso now littered with bruises and scratches. a small wince escapes his lips as you run a hand over one of the nasty gashes on his chest, you flinch taking your hand back whispering a small sorry, he smiles slightly in reassurance, noticing the worried look in your eyes "Hey, hey.. I’m alright princess, it barely hurts im promise.."

"okay then.. im going to get the bath started..." your murmur wearily taking in his state, then you go to the your adjoining bathroom, filling the tub with hot water, aromatic essential oils and relaxing bath salts.

After a few minutes, Satoru hears the water has stopped running so he assumes his bath is ready. He stands up, still only in his trousers and he goes to lean against the door frame of the bathroom, he stands there and watches you as you prepare the bath for his beaten body, his eyes fixated on your figure as he just stares at you. You turn and find him watching you, you smile softly and go to take his hand. "come on..."

He smiles slightly as you take his hand, his larger hand engulfing yours as he intertwines his fingers with yours as you lead him to the bath tub he lets out a satisfied hum noting how nice the water smell, appreciating the effort you went to for him.

You turn away from him so that he can get fully naked and climb into the tub. he finds it quite sweet how you’re still shy even though you both have seen each other naked several times before, he laughs to himself and he starts unbuttoning his trousers and pushes them down his toned legs, stepping out of them until he’s completely naked before he slowly sinks into the warm water.

"hey..." You say softly as you go to kneel besides the tub, you get a washcloth to help clean him up. He smiles lazily his eyes filled with love and adoration for you, as you kneel beside the tub, his eyes following your every move as you start gently cleaning him up with the washcloth.

He grins cheekily, though you can tell he's tired from the way he speak, "not gonna join me?" To which you burst out giggling hitting him lightly with the washcloth"no way you pervert, you're covered in blood and dirt."He grins glad to see you finally smiling.

He likes the way you take care of him, he notices how you look at his injured body and he can see the concern in your expression but he doesn’t say anything about it, he just lets you nurse him he relaxes even more and leans back into the tub, his eyes half lidded, occasionally looking up at your concerned pretty face.

Once you're done cleaning him up, you come back with the towel, he silently stands up from the tub, the water dripping down his naked and bruised body as he steps out and he allows you to wrap the towel around his waist, his muscles still on full display as he stands in front of you, the material just barely clinging onto his sculpted waist.

You lead him back to your bedroom, intertwining his fingers with yours as he follows you. the towel riding dangerously low on his hips as he walks behind you, his eyes watching your lovely figure from behind. He can't help it when his gaze drops to your hips, admiring the way they slightly sway as you walk, the thin material of your night dress clinging to your lovely curves and accentuating them beautifully.

He tries to ignore the thoughts as he reminds himself that you had just spent over an hour cleaning and pampering him, he should be grateful and appreciate you and your concern instead of having such filthy thoughts about you now, he can't help it though it's been so long. Unaware of the lewd thoughts he's having you help him get dressed in clothes you found for him, you then sit him down on the edge of your bed and apply some ointment to his cuts.

You stand in front of him moving some of his damp hair out of his eyes, "how are you feeling now..?"He exhales softly, his expression softening slightly as he looks up at you and answers your question in a quiet voice. "I'm feeling a little better now.. thank you princess."

You study his face to make sure he's not lying about feeling better. Now that you had taken care of him, and he's not as shaken as he was when he stumbled into your room, you thought it was time to finally let him know. You stroke his cheek gently with your thumbs "I need to tell you something..."

He hums softly as you continue to stroke his cheek gently with your thumbs, his eyes still locked onto your pretty face as he gazes up at you, he can sense that you're hesitant about saying whatever it is you have to say, and it makes him slightly worried. He tilts his head slightly, his expression turning soft and patient as he looks at you, silently asking you to continue and to say what's on your mind.

"while you were away... a lot happened here..." you start off, your hands stills cupping his face as you step closer to stand between his legs.

He immediately becomes concerned and anxious as you say those words, his heart rate instantly picking up as he becomes worried about what you're going to say. He can tell that something has happened while he was off fighting and he has a feeling that it's nothing good. He reaches forward, gently grabbing your wrists as he silently encourages you to continue, his eyes locked on your face intently as he waits for you to speak.

You don't know how to word it, how to tell him without breaking his heart, so you just blurt it out. "im engaged now satoru" you whisper shakily. He looks up at you, his expression immediately changing to one of complete shock, pain and anger all at once. He feels like he's had the rug pulled out from under him, the words you had just said replaying in his head over and over, the realisation and shock that you're engaged now, not to him, but to someone else. He knew the day would one day come, but so soon, he couldn't believe it. He grips your wrists tighter as his jaw clenches, he's struggling to find something to say, his mind is in complete disarray as he just stares at you with an almost betrayed expression.

"What?" He whispers almost not believing it. "I'm sorry" is all you say, tears welling up in your eyes, the words sending daggers through his heart.

His heart clenches in his chest as you start apologising tears streaming down your face. His expression twisting into one of deep pain and anger but also of heartbreak and hurt.He doesn't want you to apologize, he just wants you to say that you're joking, to tell him that you're not actually engaged but the tears and sobs escaping your body indicates otherwise.He wants to pull you into his arms, to hug you and tell you that it's okay, but he's so conflicted, he's hurt.

He takes a deep shuddering breath, his grip on your wrists gone as he drops your hands. "Why.... how?" He manages to ask brokenly, his voice tight with suppressed anger and sadness.

"My parents" the king and queen, you hiccup trying to explain "they demanded it, i was meant to get married at 18 and im now 20 satoru they weren't going to wait much longer..."He scowls in displeasure as he hears that this was all the doing of your parents, his anger towards them instantly increasing as you explain that they had demanded that you get married and you were forced into it because you're now of age.

He runs a hand down his face as she tries to control the anger in his voice.. "Did you even try to refuse?"

"You already know I couldn't" you respond shakily. He feels his anger rising even more when you say you couldn't, he can only imagine how your parents made you feel and how they forced you into this engagement.

He lets out a sharp breath, his voice tight and low as he asks his next question.. "Who is he?"

"Prince Kento, of our allied nation... i think he's around your age..." you say weakly.

His heart clenches even more as you say that you're now betrothed to the crown prince of another nation, not only are you getting married off but you're also going to be away from him in another country... forever? Also the fact that he's around his age only adds more fuel to the fire of anger, jealousy and hurt stirring up inside him.

He forces himself to speak again, despite the tight feeling in his chest making it difficult to even breath.. "When's the wedding?"

"In three months" you choke out, the date had been haunting you ever since it had been set into stone.

He feels like he's going to be sick, the pain in his chest is unbearable as he seethes out his next words. "And you seriously agreed to this?" He knows he shouldn't be angry at you but he can't help it, he's angry at everyone involved.

"Please don't be mad at me" you sob into your hands as you stand before him.

He feels his heart twisting and clenching in his chest as you desperately plead for him not to be mad at you, your tears and sobs making it hard for him to breathe. He wants nothing more than to just pull you into his arms and comfort you, but the knowledge of your engagement is making it difficult for him to even speak.

"How can I not be mad at you?" He somehow gets out, his voice coming out strained through gritted teeth. Your heart completely sinks at that.

He clenches his jaw when you don't say anything, a mix of anger, hurt, despair and resignation building up in him. He still can't bring himself to look at your face, he's scared that when he looks into your tearful eyes, it'll just break him even more."Couldn't you have put up even a bit of a fight?"

"2 years I managed to stay unwed don't act like I didn't put up a fight." You bite back starting to feel frustrated that he's not being understanding.

He clenches his teeth even harder as you say that, the hurt and anger in his chest only growing even more worse with your words. He knew that you probably tried your best and put up a fight for two whole years to not get married, but the truth of the matter is that you failed in that fight and ended up getting engaged anyway. He finally manages to force himself to look up at you, staring into your teary eyes as he speaks quietly. "You still lost in the end.... you really let them win."

"Don't say that" you say trying to hold your ground wiping your face, and God does he hate to see you cry. The sight of you wiping your tears away, trying to hold yourself together while looking completely heartbroken and distraught, it's too much for him to bear. He wants to reach out and pull you tightly into his arms, to just hold you close and comfort you, but his own pain and emotions are keeping him from giving into his urge to do that. He grits his teeth, his voice getting even lower and more strained as he speaks again "It's the truth..."

"You're angry at me." you state blinking back more tears.

He feels his heart twist even more as you accuse him of being angry at you, his expression hardening even more as you speak. He can't deny that he is angry, he's angry at everything, angry at your parents, angry at you, angry at the entire situation, but most of all he's angry at himself. Angry at himself for even falling in love with you. A princess he knew he could not have.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes darkened

and pained as he speaks in an almost cold and emotionless voice... "yeah.. I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Your heart breaks at his cold tone

"Satoru... please..." you reach for his hand.

He feels his throat constrict and his heart clench tightly as you softly speak his name in that pleading tone, "Don't." He growls out, pulling his hand away from your grasp and refusing to even look at you.

You feel sick with how he rejects you, your heart sinking even further.

His heart is in complete turmoil as he sees the way your face falls when he pulls away from your touch, his entire being is screaming at him to just pull you towards him and hold you close, but he refuses to give in to those urges, still angry and in pain over your engagement. He forces himself to keep his blue eyes averted from you and remain cold and unfazed as he speaks again. "You can't just expect me to act like everything is fine."

Seeing him act so cold towards you crushes you "Just listen to me please..." you please clinging to your nightgown your hands in small fists.

the sight of you looking so vulnerable and trying to hold yourself together,makes his heart ache in his chest and he silently hates himself for making you feel this way.

He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he forces himself to keep his expression cold and distant as he nods for you to speak. "What?"

You then pour your heart out to him. "you're my first love Satoru, the first man to every understand me, the first man I ever kiss, the first and only man l've ever been with... you mean everything to me... if i could I would've married you in a heartbeat"

His breath audibly hitches as you whisper those words out, a mixture of emotions stirring up inside him as you admit that he was the first man you ever loved and that you were intimate with. Hearing you admit those things makes him feel a mix of anger, heartbreak and love. he hates how even now after discovering that you're going to marry another man, he still loves you so damn much. He grits his teeth, his heart twisting painfully as he speaks in a tight and strained voice... "And yet here you are, agreeing to get married to someone else... "

He was trying so hard to push you away now being cold.

"what do you suggest i do huh? you know they would never let me marry you..." you say letting him know the painful truth.

He scowls deeply, his heart clenching painfully at your question, knowing that you're right. He knows your parents would never let that happen, he was a warrior, an outsider, a mere knight, not of noble lineage, he was never going to be proper husband material for their precious princess... He scowls, his voice coming out low and bitter... "So you're just going to give up and listen to them? You'd rather marry some prince instead of fighting for us?"

His jaw clenched tightly as he continues speaking in a quiet, bitter voice. "You're just going to let them take you away and force you to marry someone you don't even love, just gonna be their obedient little princess?" He sneers.

"Don't say it like that..." you whisper,

He hates how you sound so defeated, how you're practically pleading for him to just... understand... and the worst part is that he does understand, of course he does.

"How else do you want me to say it?" He asks, his voice coming out low, bitter and cold. "I don't know..." you say shakily like you were going to burst into tears again.

His heart clenches at the sound of your shaky and vulnerable voice, at how your voice is sounding so small and close to sobbing again. He hates this, he hates how much he can hear the pain and hurt in your voice, hates how badly he wants to just pull you into his arms and hold you close, but the anger and hurt he's feeling is keeping him from doing so. He lets out a bitter and quiet huff, his voice coming out bitter and cold as he speaks again. "You're driving me insane..."

You step forward wanting to wrap your arms around him "forgive me... please forgive me..."He watches as you step forwards and reach out, your arms wanting to wrap themselves around him, your voice so shaky as you plead for him to forgive you, the sight of you looking and sounding so heartbroken finally breaks him.

In an instant, he's on you, his arms gripping you tightly and pulling you flush against his firm body as he buries his face against your neck, his hands clenching the fabric of your nightgown tightly.

"fucking hell... " He mutters against your skin. He holds onto you tightly, his big arms wrapping around you like a vice as he pulls you against his body, his face nuzzling into your neck, breathing in your scent as he struggles to control his emotions. He hates how much he loves you, he's angry, bitter, devastated, hurt. He lets out a shuddering breath, his voice coming out gruff and pained as he speaks into your skin... "I hate you so much right now... I hate you so damn much."

You nod, in his arms as you cling to him "I know... I know im sorry satoru im so sorry..."

He holds you against him tighter, feeling the way you cling onto him, the way you're sobbing into his chest as you continue apologising to him over and over again. It's driving him insane. He buries his face deeper into your neck, taking shaky breaths as he keeps you tightly in his embrace, his heart clenching at your sobs.

"Stop apologising... stop saying you're sorry..." He mutters in a low and pained voice into your skin. He can feel the way you're grasping onto him, he can feel the tears you're spilling into his chest, the way your body is shaking as you sob against him. It's killing him, he's never, not once, seen you this heartbroken and vulnerable before and he can't stand it.

"Please don't be mad at me please"

The words you whispered in a shaky and teary voice makes his chest twist painfully. He can hear the pleading tone in your voice, the way you're begging for him to not be mad at you, he can feel your body shaking against his own as you continue to cling onto him. He closes his eyes, his arms pulling you even more closely against him, his grip almost bruising as he answers you in a low and tense voice... "I'm trying not to be..."

He hates how weak he is to you, he hates how he can't deny you anything, how you can get under his skin so easily with just your words and pleas... no matter how angry and hurt he feels right now, no matter how badly he wants to lash out and take out all the pain and frustration he's feeling in that moment on you, he just can't do it.

He feels you tremble against him as he holds you against his body, the way your small body is shaking in his arms makes him feel even more frustrated and helpless.

He takes another shaky breath as he continues holding you against his body, his face still nuzzled into your neck as he mutters in frustration. "You're the bane of my existence."

He feels the way your body jerks slightly at his words, the way you stiffen ever so slightly at the harsh words that came out of his mouth. He knows he really shouldn't have said that, he really shouldn't, but the hurt and anger he's feeling right now are getting the better of him. He lets out a harsh, bitter scoff as he presses his face deeper into your neck, his lips almost brushing against your skin as he continues in that cold, low voice. "I wish I never met you"

He knows he's being harsh, he knows he's being an ass and that he shouldn't be taking his anger out on you, but right now, he can't help it. He's jealous, angry, hurt, so damn hurt at the reality of the situation.

He pulls you even closer to his body, his arms squeezing you so tightly it's almost like he's holding onto you for dear life. "and I hate that I still love you so goddamn much... "

"I love you I love you satoru please" you sob hard. He feels his body tense up even more, his chest clenching painfully when he hears you say those words, saying that you love him so desperately as you continue sobbing against his body.

"And I hate you. I do" He's such a liar, saying that he hates you while he keeps his strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you even more against him. He's a goddamn hypocrite and he knows it, but he just can't stop himself from acting the way he does around you.

Even through all the anger and hurt he feels, he still can't help but cling onto you desperately, not wanting to let you go. "Fuck... I hate you so fucking much... "

you pull away from his shoulder, your face nearing his. mere inches away from his lips "that's okay, you can hate me" you murmur so close to his lips, if hating you would help him feel better then so be it.

He tenses up more when you suddenly pull away from his shoulder, his body almost instinctively wanting to pull you back, but then you're so close again, your face only a few mere inches away from his, your breath brushing against his lips as you murmur those words he looks down at how inviting your lips look. The words 'hate me' leaves your mouth and it only pisses him off even more, his lips twisting into a scowl as he says back, his voice low and tense, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I hate your damn guts." He sees your lip quirk up slightly, he then instantly presses his lips to yours to which you eagerly welcome, your lips instantly molding against his, his arms tightening their grip on you even more.

The kiss is intense filled with hate, desperation, and passion. It is hot, messy and frenzied, filled with every emotion you're both feeling right now. He bites and nips at your bottom lip, his tongue licking and licking at the seam of your lips, almost like he's trying to devour you completely.

He deepens the kiss, wanting to taste every corner and inch of your mouth, his tongue and swirling around yours. His hands moving from your waist and slipping underneath the fabric of your nightdress, his calloused hands caressing and roaming over your bare skin, almost possessively as he kisses you hungrily, angrily...

pt. 2 coming soon! likes and reblogs much appreciated!!! hope u guys liked this ^_^

sword divider by @haonian

[ashonheavenscloud]

p1harmony members when you don’t say “i love you” back

warnings: none!

a/n: requested! enjoy <3

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☆ keeho:

do NOT pull this stunt on keeho. he will be so offended and flabbergasted and he’ll immediately call it out. he says it quite often but always waits for your response. sometimes he might even say “i love you” first just to hear you say it back. so when you don’t respond as usual, instead just pecking him and walking away, he has to take a few seconds to recover from his shock.

he calls out to you, “what was that?” “what was what?” “what do you mean what was what, you didn’t say it back!”

waits in hopes that you’ll say it back now that he’s pointed it out—and will bother you to say it. if you’re stubborn enough not to give in, he’ll roll his eyes. “i see how it is. it’s fine, don’t say it then.” will act petty until you apologize or finally say the words he’s looking for.

will probably pretend to hold a grudge for a while after. makes you promise not to do it again, even if it was just a prank. is overall very dramatic about the whole thing. “you’re gonna have to say you love me every hour today to make up for what you put me through.”

☆ theo:

when theo says i love you, he doesn’t take it lightly. as someone who typically saves such words for special or intimate occasions, having you practically ignore him baffles him. when he comes behind you cooking and softly says “i love you,” your lack of response throws him completely for a loop.

stands there blinking for a second, wondering if you are too focused on cooking (but you’re just stirring) or didn’t hear him (even though his mouth is right next to your ear). cue more confused blinking as he waits for a delayed “i love you” back and doesn’t get one.

eventually his curiosity and confusion get the better of him. “did you hear me?” when you nod, he just stares at you. and doesn’t stop, even when you laugh. “theo, what are you doing?” more staring. you’ve broken him.

when you finally explain the prank, he comes to life again, exasperated. “ya! it’s not funny!” despite his show of annoyance he’s smiling, relieved it was just a dumb joke. goes back to normal the second you say i love you, with a kiss for good measure. “that’s what i thought.”

☆ jiung:

when jiung mumbles “i love you” into your ear while you’re cuddling in bed in the morning, he doesn’t think too much about it at first. he never really expects you to say it in return, he mostly just says it because it’s what’s on his mind rather than for a reaction or response. however, when he repeats the words later when you’re saying goodnight, and you still don’t say it back, he begins to feel like something is off.

immediately jumps to worrying. is something wrong? are you upset with him? or just upset in general? this isn’t like you at all, especially not twice. he waits for a couple minutes in case you bring it up, but when you don’t, he gently approaches the subject.

“is everything okay?” “yeah, of course! why?” “i don’t know, you just didn’t say i love you back earlier, and then again right now…”

he looks so genuinely concerned for you that you drop the act quickly and tell him that it’s just a prank. his worry melts away and he groans dramatically. “seriously? i thought something was wrong!” feels a little ridiculous for falling for it, but is good natured and laughs at himself. with his concerns eased, he repeats his goodnight, smiling when you, at last, say “i love you” too.

☆ intak:

intak LOVES saying i love you and LOVES hearing it from you, too, it makes him so giddy. so he notices it immediately when you don’t say it back when he kisses you before leaving for work in the morning. spends the entire day thinking about it, replaying the moment and trying to understand why you didn’t say it back. is both dumbfounded and anxious. did he upset you? are you mad? cannot fathom why you wouldn’t say it back unless something is wrong.

his concern would quickly turn into feeling kind of hurt and bummed about it. when he gets home, it would be obvious that something was bothering him by his posture and distractedness. you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he ruminates, constantly glancing at you with those inquisitive puppy eyes as you eat dinner like nothing happened.

doesn’t know how to bring it up and just goes kind of quiet, mind still trying to work out what to do and how to figure this out. while washing dishes, he’ll gather up his courage and gently ask you if there’s anything wrong. when you tell him no, of course not, he’s even more confused and worried.

he wouldn’t catch on ever and would just continue to sadly mull over your lack of response in his head so you’d have to tell him yourself that it was a prank. when you do, he practically melts into a puddle with relief. “oh my god, i thought i did something wrong, but i couldn’t figure out what-” will be extra clingy and will demand lots of kisses and “i loves yous” to make him feel better after being stressed about it the whole day

☆ soul:

in my head, soul doesn’t verbally say “i love you” all that often, preferring to save the words for special occasions and intimate moments. so when you don’t say it back, he takes it personally. will literally stare at you, waiting for you say it back

when you walk away instead, he stands in spot for a few stunned moments before following you. and staring again. and if you move again, he trails behind you, eyes practically burning holes in your head while he waits for you to give him the response he’s looking for.

after shifting locations three or four times, you are forced to acknowledge him with a laugh. “what?” “you didn’t say it back.” “what?” “i love you. you didn’t say it back.”

when you shrug and go back to what you were doing, it dawns on him that you’re probably looking for a reaction by pulling a prank. decides to make every effort to put you through hell until you confess your sins LMAO will poke your arm, get all in your space, continually demand you say it back until you finally give in and say it. and then you’re immediately forgiven. he kisses your forehead and goes back to whatever he was doing before like nothing happened, smiling to himself that he beat you at your own game

☆ jongseob:

please don’t ever ever ever do this to jongseob he will be STRESSED. he’s very conscious of the words “i love you” and the weight behind them and makes a point to say them to you at least once a day. when you’re curled up in bed together doing your own things, he gently kisses your cheek and says it.

when you hum in response instead of saying it back, he immediately loses his ability to think of anything else for the rest of the day. will play it off as nothing because he rationalizes that it’s not really a big deal. internally, he’s overthinking like nobodys business. why didn’t you say it back? were you just not feeling it? distracted? upset? maybe you’ve just reached that point in your relationship where you don’t feel the need to say it back every time. but you’ve never done that. are you upset with him? spirals. literally zones out and spirals.

later, he’ll make it more intentional: “you know i love you, right?” when you nod, he frowns. “okay, i’m not overthinking this, right?”

when you tell him it’s a prank, he sighs with relief and a bit of fond exasperation. “i was so stressed...” honestly finds it funny now that he’s not stressed about it, but will be a little petty for the bit. eventually just rolls his eyes, and relents with a “c’mere,” kissing you and telling you not to do something like that again for the sake of his well being

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[starkeyszn]

⌇meeting golden retriever!rafe for the first time 𓂃 ⸝⸝

the club was packed, humid, and too loud for someone like you. someone who preferred quiet corners and matcha. your friends had begged you to come out tonight, with some resisting, and offers of free drinks, you were convinced.

you were clutching a glass of something orange and fizzy, a cherry placed on the rim of the glass.

until he spotted you from afar. rafe cameron. his eyes locking into yours.

you looked away—an instinct, not used to the attention of being on you.

he was making his way over—oh shit! he was walking over to you! wearing that precious smile, that made you wonder if he even knew how to frown.

“hey.” he breathed, sounding like he’d be waiting to speak to you all night. “uhm—i just saw you sitting here, and i thought you would like some company! not in a creepy way! just—i’m rafe!” he rambled.

you blinked, surprised by his tone, that his tone seemed genuine, not cocky, not pushy, just warm.

“i’m okay—” you smiled gently.

he tried to mask how his smile dropped, immediately feeling awkward, his palms going sweaty.

“i’ll just stand here for a second—” his eyes diverted to your drink, “is that a shirley temple?”

your hands were wrapped around the glass as you looked down, “yeah it is.”

“i love the cherries on them.” he grinned, “my sister says it’s my ‘kid at heart’ drink.”

you giggled, and that was his in.

he slipped himself in the booth, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

you nearly talked for 2 hours—the music blending into the background as the both of you spoke, the conversation flowing easily. he asked your favourite hobbies—and if you liked dogs, only because he had one himself.

when you admitted you were nervous in crowds, he just nodded. “oh no, don’t worry—that’s cool. i get nervous in, like, libraries. all that silence? intimidating as hell.”

you smiled, finally feeling like you met someone who understood you, and when he noticed your smile he looked like he’d won the lottery.

eventually, he offered his hand — palm up, open, with no pressure behind it. “come dance with me. just one, i promise I’ll embarrass myself first.”

you hesitated, which he immediately noticed. you watched him, spin around, jumping around, “what are you doing?” you giggled.

“showing you that it’s okay, and nobody cares.”

your heart melted inside, nobody has done this for you, you stood up, joining him on the dance floor. “that’s the spirit!” he cheered, gently taking your hand and spinning you around.

“you haven’t asked me my name.”

“well what’s your name, pretty girl?”

you replied with your name, he repeated it, “suits you.”

“i’m rafe—rafe, cameron.” he added, making you smile at the addition of his last name.

and that’s how it started, not with some hookup but with soft laughter, and a boy who shined so bright you couldn’t help but lean towards him.

[incorrigible-bastard]

@aroace-get-out-of-my-fac almost immediately after posting the last one I broke out in a cold sweat and had to write this?

The day had passed in the blink of an eye. Wincing as Stan felt the pressure of their eyes on him, watching to see his next moves. He knew that after the night before, they were expecting something from him. A heartfelt promise to carry her torch with him through the rest of the games, perhaps. Or maybe just a break from the regular jokes and light teasing he’d fallen into.

It was all too peaceful, too quiet. Monotonous. Stan could almost hear the rolling thunder that was brewing overhead as they puzzled over their next moves. As he’d fished and counted his stock, messing with finished nets. Despite it all, he couldn’t find it in himself to play the part, settling in as the sun set once more.

That should have been his first clue, there was no such thing as a quiet day in the arena.

Unbeknownst to Stan, the game-masters scrambled to rewrite the public’s perceptions of Darlene’s death. They needed something to draw their gaze, take power away from the skeptical whispers dominating the capital. They needed action.

Stan woke to the lap of water brushing against his face, shooting up from his sleep as the water inched closer. Fuck. He should have known, he’d gotten too comfortable, throwing himself into action as he quickly assembled his meagre supplies, half paddling out of the cave's entrance minutes before the water rose once more, sweeping into the space he’d been lying moments before.

The area surrounding wasn’t much better, the edges of the lake now lapping at the tree line that had been maybe 4 feet from where it had originally stopped. Flooding the area as it rose at a rapid pace.

Stan cursed, kicking his feet and swimming for the woods, swallowing the rising fear before he allowed himself to get swept away. The water was his territory, and he’d be damned before he let the ones in power forget it. He wasn’t just going to lie down and take his eventual demise, no matter how certain it was.

It was that thought that propelled him forward, fighting against the push and pull of the waves until he clambered to the edge of the rising lake, almost barreling straight into the woods before a gurgling rumble ripped through the air.

In a split second he threw himself to the floor, watching as a scaly tail whipped through the air slicing at the spot he’d stood moments before, carving thick notches into the pines as Stan could only stare, wide eyed at the monstrous form towering over the lake.

Using the near-miss’ opening, Stan pushed himself to his feet, jumping behind the closest tree as that sharp, whip-like appendage came sailing down once more, cracking against the bark as a deafening roar echoed across the arena.

Moses, what is that thing? Couldn’t they give him a break?!? Hell he’d take a fucking bear at this point. Stan cried out as he lunged away from the monster’s tail once more, feeling the sharpened scales graze past his cheek, slicing through it like butter.

The creature's beady eyes glowed a fierce yellow that clashed starkly with the blackened night. Honing in on Stan as he stumbled from tree to tree, hoping to lose the beast’s focus through the foliage, unable to gain even the slightest distance back as it stopped his retreat further into the woods, pushing its massive body up towards the land.

IT CAN WALK?!?

Whatever this thing was, it was intelligent enough to keep him cornered, cowering behind the nearest tree as it continued its assault, snapping some of the smaller trees from the ground as its ugly maw inched closer to its prize.

Heaving as a tree flew past inches from his hiding spot, Stan gulped in air, gasping as the creature churred a deep warbling noise that seemed to shake the very ground. Moving its head to scan the area, searching.

Stan thanked whatever god was out there that he’d managed to lose it for the time being, mind racing as he tried to catch his breath.

How in the hell was anyone meant to survive that thing? What was he going to do??

The cracking branches to his left sounded closer, as he hooked himself around the tree, hiding from the bright gaze sweeping the forest floor.

Shit! Come on Stan, there’s got to be something, they wouldn’t just throw in an impossible hurdle, they needed entertainment, odds. It wasn’t a gamble if it was set in stone. Come on! Come on! Just think! What would Ford do?

All at once, it dawned on him, memories of their time reading through books as kids all tumbling back, Ford’s voice recounting various facts about the deep sea. One in particular came to mind as the glowing yellow of the creature's eyes sparked one particular idea, the anglerfish’s eyes were extremely sensitive to light.

Stan swore as another tree crumbled under the weight the monster, fumbling for something in his backpack as he banked on the hope. Within moments, he felt his hand grasp onto the canteen he’d discovered when he’d first searched through the bag, one filled with oil.

His hands shook as he grabbed the largest net he could, dousing the ropes in the oil, his heart thundering in his chest all the while. One chance, one fleeting hope he could pull this off as the beast’s head closed in, pushing past the tree line.

Mumbling pleas to whoever was listening as he fumbled with his lighter, sparking it up and holding it against the slick rope, the thunderous roar that boomed overhead did little to break his concentration as the flame finally caught, quickly spreading along the lengths of the rope.

He wasted no time, angling the flaming net as it sailed forwards, weighted anchors wrapping around the beasts jaws as Stan yelled out a desperate sound of his own, crashing into a tree as a clawed hand swiped past. The beast coiling back in pained shock, twisting its body and flailing against the rope as it howled.

Stan sunk the ground, cradling his burnt hands against his chest as he wheezed, already feeling the bruises marring his chest even as he watched the creature retreat, slamming its body into the water with a final shriek. Letting out a disbelieving chuckle as he sat propped against the tree, relief flooded through him.

Outside, the capital had exploded in cheers, watching as Stan pushed himself up and descended into the woods to find a place to lick his wounds. A collective buzz was soaking up the staunch mood of the previous night.

Further beyond, Ford collapsed back into his chair as Fiddleford hooked an arm around his shoulder, bearing the sobs that croaked out of the man’s throat.

“Oh, oh, Moses, F, that was too close, he-he almost.” Fidds shot him a pitying look, clutching the man’s heaving shoulders as he folded in to himself, dragging a hand to mask the tears slipping from his eyes.

“I know… but it’s like ya said, Ford, he’s a fighter, I reckon it’s gonna take a few more licks than that to bring him down.” Fidds squeezed Ford’s shoulder in a move he hoped was comforting, wiping a hand across his own tired eyes as they gazed at the screen, having been startled awake by Ford’s yell as they watched Stan battle the gobblewonker.

“We need to work faster, F, the longer we wait…” Another sob broke through, covering the words that went unsaid as they both felt the weight of the task ahead.

“We’re gonna get 'em back. Or die tryin.” It was the only thing he could think of, resolve tightening as Ford collected himself, looking up at him with the same fire burning through him.

“We have to.”

[anaburbononburbon]

18+, MDNI

-

Gimme gimme gimme desperate Soap and a pretty thing that can't stop fucking each other. All over one another when he's back from deployment. Real nasty stuff. Talking: wall to wall, kitchen countertops, bed, floor, couches, outside on walks.

Vibrating cockrings in public spaces. Remote controlled vibrators on drives.

Two, desperate, horny little devils.

Soap is in heaven.

For about....six months.

Eventually, it'll wear on him. Tired from work. Too tired to always give it to you like he needs to, but he isn't a quitter! He does it, no complaining on his end.

But the team notices. Ghost first, of course. Johnny is comin back worse for wear off of leave, and it doesn't sit right with Ghost. No, no it doesn't. That's his sergeant, his best man. So, he watches and waits.

Gaz notices second. Soap and Gaz are two peas in a pod and he can't help but stare as Johnny walks in the rec room with dark circles around his eyes, winces as he sits down and immediately passes out when he relaxes in the couch, snuggled to his best mate.

Breaks Gaz's heart.

Cap notices last, but immediately pulls him and the rest of the team in his office to ask him straight:

"What's goin on, sunshine? You feelin okay? Everything olright at home?"

And god, Soap appreciates the thought, but is mortified that his lack of jokes, tired eyes and sore muscles have been noticed by everyone.

He tries to play it cool. Laughs it off. Tells everyone to stop worrying. Attempts to pick himself from his seat, but Ghost immediately shoves him back down.

"Someone hurtin you, Johnny? Someone we need to take care of?" Soap almost wants to cry. His team is so fuckin sweet, but there's no way he can admit what's actually happening.

"Say the word, Soap, and it'll be taken care of. No questions asked." Kyle rubs his shoulder, offering him support and comfort in this difficult situation.

Soap breaks.

"Not what you think it is..." He whispers, thinking about you. Your lips around his cock. Your tight holes around his dick. His own tongue deep inside you.

Over and over and over-

"What is it, son? What's goin on?" John cares about his team. He cares about his boys. He wants them happy. Wants them thriving. They were in a fucked up line of work, and every day wasn't promised.

Least he could do was make sure his men were taken care of. That they were being taken care of.

"It's too much." It was soft. A confession. Something he didn't mean to say out loud, but was ripped from his throat all the same.

"What's too much, Johnny?" Ghost whispered back, his hand finding his knee and squeezing it gently. Both his and Kyle's hands pulling and pushing Soap into an ease that he hadn't had in quite awhile.

Johnny broke.

"My...my lass and I we're...she's draining me fuckin dry!"

Silence.

Not what they thought he would say...

"Your lass is-" Kyle couldn't even ask before Johnny threw his head back and sobbed.

"My fuckin dream is my nightmare, Kyle! Can you fuckin believe it? Fuckin right embarrassin, I'll tell you. She's the best. Sweet. Cooks. Cleans. Has hobbies. Never cries when I'm gone. Never upset when I leave at a moments notice. Just smiles, kisses me and wishes me well. God, Gaz, I'm in fuckin love with her. She's perfect. But...but..." Johnny shakes his head. Swallows thickly and breaths deeply.

"But?" Cap presses, his arms crossed against his chest, plans forming in his head.

"Fuckin insatiable, that one is. It was fine at first. Fun! Sex everyday. Multiple times a day. Wake up with my cock down her throat and go to sleep deep in her cunt. Keeps me warm all the time, Cap. Begs me to fuck her right in the arse at midnight. Eats my arse like she's mad at it. Fuckin heaven I tell you lot! But...but I'm so goddamn tired. I'm so sore from it all. And I don't ever want to tell her no, you know? She...she's my sweetheart. And she's been through some things and, not my place to tell, but I want to make her feel wanted. That's what she does to me. And I need to do the same. Just some days...it's hard." Johnny laughs, shaking his head at his outburst. "Fuck, here I am, whining and bitchin because I can't tell her no...fuck me. I gotta just, say it. Be honest. Be open. Let her know that I'm not just some machine. That I need some rest."

It's quiet. Conversations are happening without Johnny being involved.

Kyle readjusts in his chair.

"Insatiable thing, you say?" Johnny smiles brightly, nodding his head.

"Fuck yeah. Sweet thing, fuckin fooled me the first time. Went for hours before I finally passed out inside her, pinnin her down to the floor. How I found out she likes to go to sleep with a cock in her."

"Nasty little thing, huh, Johnny?" Ghosts asks, remembering what Soap said about her devilish tongue.

"Oh, LT. You wouldn't fuckin believe. Made me piss on her the second week I moved in. Had to convince her to let me do it in the shower. Kept trying to do on the bed. Fuckin feisty when she wants." Johnny couldn't help but squeeze his hardening cock, remembering vividly that night. Your smiles. Your mouth opening. Your giggles. You were a fuckin angel.

"Needs some good lovin, that right, Soap?" Price asked, leaning back in his chair, lighting up a cigar as Johnny smiles wide, hearts for eyes.

"Needs all the lovin, Cap. Can't take a compliment. Dishes em out like currency but refuses to acknowledge any back. Love holding her down and tellin her how perfect she is, how gorgeous she is. How she was made for me. She tries to hide her face. Wants to pull away, but I don't let her. Gotta make her see it, you know?" Price hums, filing it away for later.

Simon sits back in his chair, stretching his neck side to side. Thinking of things that he can't say quite yet.

"Can't tell her, Johnny." Johnny freezes at his words, his heart catching in his throat and his eyes widening.

"What you mean, LT? I thought...I mean-I-" Johnny stutters, thinking he made a big mistake. He shouldn't have said anything. Everything is ruined.

"He's right." Kyle says, now massaging both of his shoulders, trying to get Johnny to relax and accept what they were offering. "You need a break, mate. Need to relax. But your lass? Poor thing is neglected every time you're out and about. She waits every day for you to come home and make her feel good. Make her feel like she belongs. Bet she looks forward to you home more than she does waking up." Kyle waits, still working the knots out of Johnny's shoulders and letting it settle into his core. Kyle brushes his lips against Johnny's ear, letting him shiver at the closeness of his fellow sergeant. "You just need someone to help you out with her." Johnny's eyes bulge out, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

"Might need more than just one person, from the sound of it." Cap has a grin on his face, predatory and exhilarating. Johnny's cocks his head, his thoughts running away from him as he takes in what his team is saying.

"Think you might need the whole team, Johnny." Simon's whispers, and it's settled.

Now...how to tell you.

[booniebaby141]

Birds of Ratite

Ghost X Soap

After extensive research, I’ve come to the conclusion that Simon Riley would have a hyperfixation about birds, specifically Cassowaries because “They’re like fucking dinosaurs Johnny, be grateful they can’t fly, they can kick hard enough to break bones.”

Johnny will gladly listen to Simon yap about them for hours on end. I like to think when Simon runs out of Dad jokes to tell him during missions, he just rattles off fact after fact. Johnny can’t really complain, he does the EXACT same shit to Simon all the time; any time he gets first kit haul, he will prattle on about all the explosives, chemical compounds, and ammunition he got for the next demolition.

They will gladly listen to each other yap, especially in a high stress situation, where it could mean the difference between life or death…

~~~

“Bravo 7-1 to Watcher, just outside the safe house 2 Klicks North of the drop zone. Ghost is in critical condition! Knife wound to the abdomen, need medevac NOW!”

“Copy that 7-1, sending help your way.”

“Fuck, c’mon stay with me Sir.”

The two collapsed just outside the safe house, falling to the grassy field before leaning back against the safe house wall. Soap looked around aimlessly and desperately, watching as the sun peaked just over the horizon, illuminating his face, and his hands, now covered in the blood of his best friend as he kept a firm hold over the wound to prevent further bleeding.

Ghost almost wanted to laugh at the situation, being stabbed with his own knife by an opposing soldier was definitely not on his Task Force bingo card. It had been driven deep into his stomach before being yanked out as Soap flanked the man, dropping him to the ground while he still had a solid grip on the knife. The cut was deep and Ghost was starting to get delirious from the blood loss, he’d pass out soon enough if they didn’t get help quickly.

“Sir? Stay with me... Help’s coming L.T.”

“Johnny?”

“Ghost? I’m right here mate.”

He began to pull at the seams of his mask, trying to take it off in his weakened state when Soaps hands stopped him. It was an old promise they’d made to each other if they found themselves in a near death situation. They wanted to die seeing each others faces, their real faces.

“Simon no, stop. I’m not gonna let that happen, you’re gonna be fine. Quick, umm… How high can a cassowary jump?”

“What Johnny? Why?”

“Just answer the question, Sir.”

Ghost huffed raggedly but eventually wheezed out a struggled “7 feet.”

Soap nodded with a weak smile. “Aye, what’s the scientific name for them?” He continued to ask Ghost questions and keep him somewhat lucid.

Ghost realized what Soap was doing now, and he thought hard to try and stay awake until medevac arrived. “It’s *cough* it-it’s Casuar- *cough* casuarius johnsonii.”

They could hear the chopper approaching, Ghost rolled his head against the safe house wall, landing on Soaps shoulder as darkness approached the corners of his vision. “It’s cold Johnny…”

Soap propped him back up, getting in front of him and running his hands up and down the length of his arms in an attempt to warm him up some. “They’re landing now Simon, just a bit longer aye? Quick, tell me where they live.”

“Wha? Johnny?” Ghost slurred out, struggling to keep himself awake but he knew he had to, for his sake, and Johnnys.

“The cassowaries L.T, where do they live?”

“N-new *cough* New Guinea, and Aus-Australia.”

“Aye? Well I’m gonna take you there when this is all over, so you stay awake you big, broody, bastard.”

That got a slight chuckle from Ghost, which quickly turned to a fit of coughing and sputtering as the pain sharpened in his abdomen and the blood seemed to pour out at an even faster rate. Soap kept his hands placed firmly on the wound, watching as Ghosts head lolled to the side again and he grew quiet, uncharacteristically so even for him. He was so cold, so tired. In his half delirious state, the warmth of Johnnys hands gave him enough of an illusion of safety to start falling asleep.

“Ghost? Ghost?! Come on wake up Sir! Their wheels are down. Wake up you bastard! Come on, tell me their wingspan, what colours are they, anything Sir!”

The last thing Ghost remembered hearing before passing out was the frantic, panicked shouting of his teammate and the warmth of his skin, and the hurried thudding of boots on the ground as a medical team was pulling over a stretcher with Price in tow. He hears a faint conversation, something whispered, something upsetting, before being pulled up to the stretcher and the last bit of consciousness being pulled out of him.

The warmth never left however.

He wakes up in a hospital bed, Johnny’s hand clasped around his. He looks like shit, like he hadn’t left Ghosts side for a second to clean himself up. Still bloodied and stained, yet here he was watching over his lieutenant like a hawk.

“You made it L.T.”

“You fucking made it.”

Ghost didn’t have time to reply before strong arms were wrapped around his chest in embrace. He winced slightly as Johnnys weight pressed down on the bandaged stab wound, but eventually settled in a soothing silence as he held Johnny closer. He pretended not to hear the sniffles coming from his sergeant.

“I made it Johnny.”

The two remained that way for a while, Ghost looked around his hospital room to see the array of things left by his team. There were several cards surrounding a large bouquet of roses, hydrangeas, morning glories, and marigolds; all the colors of a cassowary’s feathers. There were some bottles of bourbon left by the Vaqueros, even Nik had brought a little mug with birds painted on by Soap. Inside the mug, Ghost noticed two slips of paper.

“What’s in the mug Johnny?” He asked suspiciously, to which Soap chuckled before briefly letting go to grab the tickets.

“I told you, you make it through this, I’m taking you to see them. Once you’re given the all clear from medical, we’re going…”

Ghost looked in awe at the two tickets, round trip to Australia with accommodations and a visit to the Taronga Conservation.

“Fucking hell, Johnny…”

“Ahh, don’t give me all the credit, Gaz helped me find the place and Price gave us the leave and got us a hotel. But I planned the rest. Got even more surprises in sto-”

Soap was cut off as Ghost pulled up his balaclava slightly to give him a kiss. Soap leaned into it, returning to his initial embrace and kissing right back, soft and gentle; what they both needed after such a close encounter with death. Talk of the trip could wait. For now, they simply needed each other.

“8 to 10 feet Johnny.”

“What Sir?”

“I never answered your question before, their wingspan is 8 to 10 feet.”

“Hah, guess we’re gonna see then aye L.T.”

“I guess we are.”

2 Weeks Later

“Watch out for the magpies Johnny, they’re even worse than Canadian Geese. Hey look up, a Masked Lapwing! And it’s a black shouldered subspecies, you usually only find them in New Zealand. Did you know that the only species of bird who can do…”

Soap listened with a smile although he did lose track at times as Ghost listed off every bird in the conservation he could see and had at least 3 facts for each of them. Still, it was good to see him back up and about, and back to his usual self. Although if it was a side of him rarely seen, Soap felt honoured he felt comfortable to show it to him. Both men nearly cried when they finally got to visit the cassowaries. Simon nearly cried because he finally got to meet his favourite bird in person, and Johnny because he finally got to watch Simon meet his favourite bird in person.

~~~

Just a silly Ghoap idea I had from a TikTok I saw on cassowaries. What else would they yap about? I just know Ghost and Soap are the AuDHD dream team of hyperfixation.

[creatingblackcharacters]

hi there! i'm writing a fantasy series with a Black main character (i'll call them X for ease), and i was worried about their story falling into any racist tropes, and wanted to run it by someone.

X was raised by the leaders of an evil cult, who were grooming X to eventually take over leadership. X later escapes from the cult to live a better life. when they escape, X is taken under the wing of a woman who becomes a sort of adoptive mother. a big part of X's story becomes overcoming their fear of their abusive birth family, while creating more found family, and then taking down the cult completely. does having them run away from their family and into the arms of someone else play into harmful ideas about adoption? i didn't have any race in mind for the woman that 'adopts' X, but i think if she was white, that wouldn't send a great message, right?

i was also thinking that, if the original idea doesn't work, maybe the cult could kidnap X as a baby from their birth family instead. X finding that birth family after they escape could be part of their story. but that feels worse somehow? i'd love to know your thoughts.

thank you for all of your input and advice! even if you dont answer this ask, you've been so helpful to me and countless other authors, and we're all very grateful <3

There's been an interesting amount of cult type questions lately. Not relevant, just interesting.

I don't see how the latter option is worse lol. Like I'm thinking and that seems like the easier option if you wanted to dodge a difficult conversation that you don't feel up to having.

As for your original premise, as I say for everyone, it could very well be racist, if you wrote it that way!

No I would never blame a Black person for running into safer arms from a cult, or for being adopted into a safer environment. However, if everyone in the story that mistreats X is Black, but everyone that is healthy and kind to X is white, and we never address anything about that, then yeah we do begin to question the message being sent. And that can be rough, considering how people historically think Black parents are violent or generally incapable of being good parents (and how many white foster parents will abuse Black children and other children of color for the money and still be seen as benevolent, because they know the system doesn't care enough to check).

You write around that by showing that the Cult is the problem, not the Blackness. You could make their new environment Black or multicultural. Hell, the cult could be multicultural. The cult that created Jonestown preyed on Black members specifically by using the tone of Baptist preaching to promise safety from the dangers of racist America, and we see how that went. Maybe the Black family of X thought they were buying into something better (as is usually how cults go) and got sucked into something darker.

[writingfics-passingtime]

untitled gentle, tender Loki fic [sneak peek]

Loki turns his head at that, something sharp and unreadable in his gaze. But he doesn’t push. He just keeps moving, one slow step at a time, keeping rhythm with the music.

His palm presses firmer against your back, and you let out a breath without meaning to, your lashes fluttering shut for half a second. You press in slightly, shuddering as his hand traces a gentle line up the curve of your spine, then smooths flat again. It’s cold still - that touch - unnaturally cool.

You mutter, explaining your goosebumps, "Your hand is cold."

There’s a pause, and then - heat. A gentle bloom of warmth, sudden and soft, pressing into your skin like a secret. Magic. It spreads through your back, up into your shoulders, until your muscles loosen against him just enough to be noticed.

"You're not supposed to do that," you gently remind him, but there's no reprimand in it. There should be, though. He shouldn't be risking using magic to make you comfortable. Not when it could be traced.

But he just hums under his breath - barely a sound - and you feel it rumble low in his chest.

"Why are you really up here?" he asks, voice close to your ear. "Why away from the adoring crowd?"

You blink once, your mouth suddenly dry. "I meant what I said," you say, quieter than you meant to. "I don’t like crowds. And… these galas. They’re just…"

He fills in the silence for you, voice almost amused. "Insufferably boastful?"

You laugh softly. It's a surprising sound that slips from your chest before you can control it, and for once, you don’t bother pulling it back. "A little," you admit.

His voice takes on that biting lilt. "I admit, it’s impressive. The lengths they’ll go to remind me that I was bested by Earth’s mightiest costume party."

You huff another laugh, but there’s a sincerity that flickers behind it. You find yourself looking at him then, at the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his cheekbone catching the city light.

"It’s a privilege," you say eventually. "To be welcomed into."

"But?" he presses, and you feel it in the way his body moves with yours. Subtle. Patient. He’s not mocking. Not this time.

You pause, glance out toward the skyline, and Manhattan opens before you like a jewellery box of glittering promise. So much beauty. So much danger. So much potential. You feel like you can see all of it.

"It’s a long way to fall," you admit softly.

You don’t elaborate. Not out loud. But your thoughts flicker like static behind your eyes. You think about the posters. The faces in the crowd cheering your name. The magazines that crowned you the new face of strength. Feminist icon. Trailblazer. Symbol. Hero.

An image stitched together with PR, edited combat reels, polished speeches. A manufactured version of you that lives in camera lenses and cell phone screens, all perfect form and perfect timing.

You’re not sure who they see anymore.

And worse, you’re not sure who you’re supposed to be when the illusion starts to fray.

The thought tightens in your chest.

A breeze sweeps in then, cutting through the quiet. It lifts the hem of your dress just slightly, brushes across your exposed spine, and you shiver.

You glance at Loki and immediately wish you hadn’t. He’s looking at you with that sharp, unreadable gaze again, but softer. Like he sees too much.

You feel foolish all of a sudden. For saying what you did. For being vulnerable in front of him. You straighten, step away, your hand slipping from his shoulder.

"I should get back."

[juletheghoul]

Is there ever a time where marcus and girl ever go out just the two of themselves? like a stay on the country side, while their daughter is watched back home. (sometimes ya just gotta get a break from duties and taking care of a kid)

i’d feel like they’d both take their time enjoying the quiet time to relax (and very possibly engage in other “Activities”) cough cough.

they both deserve it, but they deserve everything in my book tbh LMAO.

OUUUUU you’re really onto something with this one 👀

Warnings; Marcus eating pussy because he’s a king, fingering, pov sex (18+), slight dirty talk, worrying about Diana, night out with the hubby, Marcus being perfect

Word count: 1.4K 😏

Masterlist series masterlist

-

The moon is so bright it shines in his hair. Your fingers slip through it and he hums happily. Your other hand holds onto him tightly.

Silently he guides the horse you both ride through the open air, the night is quiet but for the sounds of the horse breathing, the click of its hooves, the insects chirping. You press your face into his shoulder, breathe in the comforting smell of him, smile when you catch the scent of your daughter's hair in his robes. You worry about her for a moment, hope she won’t cry when you aren’t there to tend to her in the morning.

“She is fine, I promise you.” He speaks softly over his shoulder and you frown, had you spoken out loud?

“I did not say–” He laughs low, knowingly.

“You did not have to, I felt you tense up. There is only one thing that would make you worry and that is Diana. I promise you my love, she is well cared for, and we will be back before midday.” He pulls your hand up from where it sits at his sternum and presses a kiss to it.

“Are you a mindreader now then? An oracle in the shape of a General?” You tease him, rubbing his heart through his robes.

“I am attuned to my wife.” You can hear the smile in his voice. You press your lips to his neck, and give in to the trust you have for him, and the people in your house.

He turns off the road, and guides the horse through a copse of trees, following a path he must know by heart until you reach a small clearing. A tent, much like the one you inhabited during his battle, sits alone.

“Marcus, when did you do this?” He helps you down, smiling wide at the look of shock on your face as he ties the horse to a tree.

“I had a few of my men tend to it earlier. Come.” He holds your hand, guiding you towards it.

The inside is even more impressive than the surprise when he hurries to light the candles, a plush bedroll big enough for two, woven carpets, a table with two chairs, wine and food to last through the night and well into the morning.

“Do you like it?” He moves to stand behind you at the mouth of the tent, arms wrapping around your waist to press you close.

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

“You have been so busy tending to Diana, and to me in truth. I thought that tonight, I could tend to you.” His lips press to your neck, his tongue tastes your skin and for a moment you’re lost in the feeling of it. Until he presses one last kiss, and moves away.

“Come, my Sun, let us eat.” He pulls the chair out for you, and you follow.

-

The meal is eaten leisurely. Conversation flows like water, natural and free. You make a jest, and he laughs a deep laugh, the sound of which fills you with light. He pours for you, despite your assurances that you can pour for yourself, he waves it away, stands and caters to you.

The candles burn down to nothing while you talk about anything and everything that comes to mind. Diana, the house, meetings and gatherings he must attend, festivities you must host. You speak of your years together, your years alone. He asks questions about your time before him for the hundredth time, and you answer them. You ask questions about his life as a soldier, and he answers with candor.

The conversation eventually slows to a lull, a sweet, comfortable quiet between the two of you, filled with sly smiles, and hungry eyes.

“It feels strange to be so relaxed.” You confess as he takes your hand in his, presses it to his mouth.

“It does, feels quite nice though. I am happy to have you all to myself once more.” He rises, pulling you up to embrace him.

“Are you now? Am I too often called away from you?” Your fingers stroke his hair, he will need a cut soon.

“Yes, far too often. You know the love I have for our little blessing but she is far too greedy with you.” You laugh, pressing yourself closer.

“I think you may now know how I have felt all these years.” The look on his face makes you laugh all the harder, mock outrage, playful shock. “Do not play coy Marcus, wars and delegations and tours of Rome. I have had to content myself alone for many a moon’s turn.”

He hangs his head in a pantomime of shame.

“You are right, of course. As always.” His lips descend, landing soft upon your shoulder. “This is for us both, then.” His fingers tip your chin up, and then his mouth is on yours.

It takes him an instant to divest you of your robes.

It’s a passionate scramble onto his bed roll, full of kisses, and excited laughter. He bites his lip, lifts your leg to kiss the inside of your knee. He trails his lips up your inner thigh, up towards where you ache for him.

“I have longed for the taste of you, but we never seem to have enough time.” He settles, keeps your legs open with the breadth of his shoulders, your heart races. It never fails to shock you, the sight of his mouth descending onto your sex.

“Gods above.” His tongue makes you dizzy, swirling, tasting, probing, stroking you into a frenzy. He hums while he feasts, wide licks over the whole of you, enjoying you, savouring you like he does a fine wine.

“Yes, yes, there, Gods, just there–” He presses closer, suctions his lips around the pearl of you and strokes. The pleasure climbs so quickly, so steadily that your words of encouragement shift to an incomprehensible babble. It only spurs him on.

Fingers circle around your opening and then two breach, thick and all-consuming. He pets at the spot only he’s ever found, firmly, devastatingly until your whole body clenches, suspended in ecstasy. He’s smiling when you come back into your body, licking his fingers as though you’re the finest delicacy.

Your limbs are heavy, a bone deep relaxation, a pink haze in the shape of him.

“You cannot know how much I love seeing you like this. Naked, wet, drunk on what I do to you.”

“On your tongue, and those deft fingers.” You pull him up, taste yourself in his mouth.

“And my cock.” You feel it then, the blunt tip of him rubbing against the sensitive mess he has made of your sex.

“Oh yes, how could I forget–” You gasp, a sharp intake of breath when he slips inside. It does not seem to matter how many times he’s taken you, or how wet you are, the heavy weight of him always makes your mind blank. That filling stretch, the one you know you’ll feel in the morning always makes you forget how to speak.

“Does that feel good?” He pants out the words, sweat beading on his brow with the effort of fucking into you.

“Yes, so good, harder.” You wrap your arms tighter around his neck and he obeys, buries his face into your neck and snaps his hips hard enough to make you gasp and whimper with each stroke. It’s too good to speak, too good to think of anything except the feeling of him. His cock hits almost too deep, but there is nothing in this world that would ever make you ask him to stop.

His moans in your ear, the unabashed way he sings his pleasure only makes it better, only makes you wetter and another climax creeps through your limbs.

You know he’s close when the groans turn into sharp pants, hot enough against your skin to raise goosebumps. Your fingers dip into his mouth and he sucks them with a filthy groan before you slip them between your bodies and swirl them around your clit.

The slip of his spit, the knowledge that you are alone here in this tent shoves you into a second, more intense climax, and it brings him down with you. The warm jet of his gift deep inside makes you glow, makes you preen under his love-glazed eyes, makes you laugh with the joy of his embrace.

“God’s above.” He laughs, watching himself pull out of you. He rolls over, pulls you into his arms where you both catch your breath.

“Indeed.” You hum, tracing patterns onto his chest. “Gratitude my love, for planning this.” You push his hair out of his face, admire the lines and the scars and the softness in his eyes you’ve only ever seen directed at you, or Diana.

“I do not want your gratitude, only your love.” He smiles, pressing his mouth to yours.

-

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