#these were fun ones thanks for sending ^_^

[heartyluv]

—Click Here— for Camboy!Caleb masterlist!

Note: They’re so filthy, (I say as if I’m not the one writing it). I hope you enjoy, luvlys! ;)

Warning: Sub!Caleb, he’s begging, handjob, cock ring and brief attempt of pocket pussy use (you’ll see why), you kindaaa dom him (again, you’ll see why i said kinda), you have to be quiet 🤫, use of ‘good boy’, cum licking, brief mention of spit, you end up sitting on his cock (i think i got it all)

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: You and your husband try out some new toys.

SubbyCamboy!Caleb/Reader

“She sleep?” Caleb asks once you enter your bedroom and silently shut the door with a gentle click of the lock to follow.

“Out like a light,” you grin. You would forever be thankful for your precious three year old daughter who made bedtime the easiest thing on the planet. Because of her simplicity and general love for sleep—since she gets to be surrounded by her dozens of plushies—, it allowed you and Caleb to almost always have some alone time when the sun set. Whether it be basking in comfortable silence together while watching a movie or silently indulging in each other’s bodies, it was a gift you never took for granted.

“You still up for tonight?”

He sets his phone down, shrugging with a faux nonchalant smile like he isn’t buzzing with the same level of excitement as you. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

Biting your lip, you scurry over to him and lean down to where he sits in the bed, kissing him deeply and squealing when he keeps you close in your efforts to try to pull away. Once you’re finally released with a generous slap to the ass by your husband, you go to your tall dresser and open the drawer to pull out the fresh bottle of lube and the new toys you cleaned when they arrived earlier.

“I remember when I used to watch you use something like this one.” You inspect the pocket pussy, the memories of gawking at Caleb on your phone screen when you were once strangers in a fan to content creator relationship, flooding your mind. He would spill his cum into the one he once owned as he cursed under his breath at the same time you’d rub your clit faster to catch up with him.

Good times. But they were even better, now. Now he was your man, the father of your beautiful Sloane Xia, and most importantly, your best friend.

“Mhm. And I remember it was one of your favorites,” he smirked. “I think you were one of the first to send in a request for a personal video of me using it.”

Your cheeks heated. It was a shot in the dark—or so you thought. It took all of you to drop the embarrassment and just send him the $100, along with asking for a video of him fucking the realistic enough vagina model. Not only did he do it and got to it quicker than you anticipated, but he consistently chanted out about how badly he wished it was you he was fucking and filling up.

That video fundamentally rewired your brain, and you still have it to this day.

At the time, you knew it was simply for the content and to ensure that his viewer get their moneys worth. But now that your life looks the way it does, you wondered if he unintentionally spoke his desires into the universe and was ultimately granted his wish.

Once on your side of the bed, you sit down on top of the covers that Caleb’s beneath, handing him the cock ring first.

You and Caleb rarely used toys when you officially got together. The only thing that would make an appearance in your sex life would be your trusty pink vibrating wand, but other than that—you two preferred to find ways to please each other with what you were equipped with. It was more fun that way—to try and find new positions, as well as other things to spice it up.

It was last week that you brought up wanting to try some out. After seeing a couple you two were friends with who created similar content use a cock ring in their video, you couldn’t resist showing Caleb. He was more than willing to do it, especially when he saw how turned on it made you.

“I’ve never seen you use one of these, though.”

He takes the little contraption, inspecting it with pursed lips. “I did once, but I never recorded it.”

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “You used a cock ring and I never knew?!”

“You never asked, pretty. Besides, it didn’t do much for me.”

“No?” you tease. “Did it do this?”

You press the silver button, the gentle buzz of the ring sounding.

“It absolutely did not do that,” he said astounded with a deep chuckle. The vibrating in his hand immediately sent blood rushing to his cock.

“Are you hard?” you cooed, shutting off the ring and palming him through his boxers on top of the covers.

“A little, yeah.”

You open and close your other hand, gesturing for him to hand it over. “Let me see.”

Caleb groans when your hand slides away from him. Already shirtless, he throws the sheet off his body, sitting up more so he can inch his underwear down enough to release his semi-hard dick.

“Aht,” you scold flirtatiously. “All the way off.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Your pussy throbs at how quickly and well he listens without hesitation. You eye his thick length while he follows your instruction, and open the bottle of lube. Putting a little on your index and middle finger, you generously lather the inner part of the ring so that it can slide onto him with ease, similarly to how your cunt sucks him inside of you.

“Remember, babe,” you get closer, trying to remain stoic, but that nearly fails as you admire his twitching cock. “You gotta stay quiet. Get too loud, and I’ll have to stop.”

“I’ll stay quiet,” he nods, his hips already bucking for some kind of relief. “I promise.”

At the same time that you begin to kiss his lips, your work the vibrating device onto one of your favorite things in the world, smiling into it when his moans prettily pour into you mouth.

“Safe word?”

“A—apple,” he chokes out. “Fuck baby, p—please do something...”

“I know, I know.” You kiss his jaw and when his head tilts back to welcome your love, you press the button again to send shivers down his spine.

The whimpering and near cries erupt from him as if you’ve struck a gold a mine. Pulling back to get a full look at your husband, you can’t help but feel a different kind of love to see him so vulnerable and submissive with you. With his back against the headboard, his cheeks and nose bridge sport a perfect dusty pink.

“Tell me how you feel, baby.”

“S—so good…This feels so good—hah…I need you, pretty. I need you so bad…” He’s an absolute mess and it has you dripping in your panties.

“You want me?” You wrap your hand around the head of his cock, adding the slightest bit of pressure. To suppress his moans, he bites down on his lip so hard that you’re sure it hurts.

He nods vigorously, his hair tickling his forehead with each shake. “I want your pussy, baby…I need my wife. I—I want my wife so much…” Each intake of breath is sharp—needy.

Your heart rate increases the more he pleads for you. You bring your mouth just above his flushed tip and spit on it, working him in your hand slowly. Precum seeps out, adding to the mixture of fluids that you wish your slick was a part of.

But right now? This was all about him.

“If you want me to sit on your cock, I need you to be my good boy. Can you do that?”

He nearly combusts at your words and the way you pump him in your soft palm. Along with the delectable sensation of the ring at the base of his cock, he feels like he’s died and went to a heaven where this was nothing short of paradise.

“Y—yes…I’m gonna be good,” he promises pathetically. “I’ll be good. Anything. Tell me, a—and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Awww, my sweet baby.” Your nipples strain beneath your tank top, reminding you that you’re far too dressed. But that only adds to your excitement.

“I want you to hold your cum. You think you can do that for me?”

Just as you say that, more dribbles out and trails down his length.

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head, sweat beading at his temple. He juts his hips up to try and make you jerk him off faster, but you tsk, reminding him that he must stay still. “B—baby, I don’t think I can. I’m gonna cum a—already.”

“Then you won’t get to fuck me, will you?”

“That’s not fair!” he cries. The wet sounds of you fisting him and the vibrations moving through his balls only brings him closer to his impending delightful doom. “Y—you have to take it off! I’m gonna…Fuck! I’m about to—”

Immediately, you stop. “Are you getting loud with me?”

His chest rises and falls with disappointment and desperation. But even when you stop, the cock ring is still on and giving him the pleasure you ceased. So without you needing to do a thing, he can’t hold back, nor does he want to. His cum shoots out abruptly, thick and pearly white streams landing on your shirt and the exposed upper area of your tits.

Growing far too loud, you place a hand over his mouth—despite how much you wish you could hear him. He mumbles incoherent words, his eyebrows knitting as his breath fans against your hand the more his composure dissipates. His abs flex with each uncontrollable convulsion and you keep your other hand wrapped around him, letting his hot load make a mess on your knuckles.

Even if he hadn’t done what you said, you could never deny the fact that he still looks so fucking ethereal.

You frown as you gently slide the ring off once he’s relaxed. “You didn’t listen.”

He hisses, cock still incredibly sensitive. “I tried, princess,” he defends himself through bated breath. “Don’t be mad at me. Let me make it up to you. ‘M sorry, I couldn’t help it…”

“No need to say sorry.” You take the now sticky dark blue ring, bringing it you your mouth to lick up some of his cum. He watches you with hooded eyes as your tongue laps up his spend like a delicacy, the need to go again stirring within him once more.

“But you shouldn’t be inside of me tonight, right? Since you can’t seem to follow directions.”

“Wait—”

“Safe word?” you interrupt.

“I know the word.”

“Good. Then say it like I told you to.”

Yeah, he’s hard again. “Apple.”

You grab the pocket pussy off the bed and hand it to him. He looks at you confused as he takes itwhile you stand and pull your clothes off.

“You’re gonna watch me touch myself while you fuck that. I want you to think about how better you’ll do in the future when you watch my fingers inside of me, taking your place.”

“No.” He says the word like you’ve given him the ultimate punishment.

Getting on top of the blankets once more, you rest on your elbows with your legs spread wide to give him the perfect view. It’s like he’s mated to you—like he can smell your desire—and it drives him mad to be separated from it. Your fingers go between your thighs and you gather the slick that’s already found its way to your aching clit.

“That wasn’t a question. I’ll come without you if I have to, baby,” you push out. Your lips part when you shove one of your fingers inside your tight hole, the heat consuming your slender digit. “Y—you’re still my good boy, aren’t you?”

Reluctantly, Caleb takes the pocket pussy, dramatically feeling a part of himself dwindle away the more he stares at your pretty, wet, and real one. He brings it down onto his cock, his cum helping him to enter without any restriction.

“I am.” He keeps his eyes on everything you’re doing. From the way you circle your clit to the way you fondle your tits.

The room echos with all the wet and obscene sounds the both of your bodies make. Caleb matches you, pleasing himself with the model the faster your fingers swirl against your sensitive nub. You ogle at what he’s doing too, but the more you watch, the more you grow impatient.

The facade you attempted to uphold cracks effortlessly at the seams. You try to resist, but you and him will forever be drawn together like magnets.

“I can’t…” you mumble, quickly sitting up and pulling the pocket pussy off of your husband like it’s insulting you. Straddling him, he eagerly accepts you and grabs your flesh hungrily. When you guide his dick into your quivering and soaked hole, the immediate connection is otherworldly.

The feeling of him in your walls will never fail to consume you. “I couldn’t help it…”

This is why you found it hard to take control. You weren’t disciplined enough and punishing him would always be far too punishing for you. But Caleb didn’t give a damn. He would let you try every single time if that’s what you wanted.

“Take what you need from me.” He looks at you with so much reverence. “I told you, I’m still your good boy…”

To keep your sounds at bay, you make out with him heatedly, and the teeth that slightly clattered didn’t deter you one bit.

A creamy ring quickly forms at his base and you bounce on his cock no more than five times before he’s flooding you with his seed and you’re squeezing him tightly the moment your orgasm claims you.

You grind against him lazily until you can no longer take anymore.

“I tried it, didn’t I?” you giggle, a string of saliva falling to your chin when you pull away from the intense exchange. He huffs out a laugh through his nose.

“Sex doesn’t have any rules. No matter what role we try to play, the ultimate goal?” He smiles when you look into his eyes. “To make each other feel good. I say we’ve done that successfully, no?”

“I guess. Next time, though,” you whisper. “I’m so gonna nail it.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Oh, shut up!” You quickly cover your mouth when you realize your volume.

“You getting loud with me?” he teases, using your words against you.

“Nu-uh, you better use that damn pocket pussy.”

“Until you use that safe word.” He moves your hips. “I’m staying right here.”

“You’re so lucky I love you,” you shake your head, tugging on your bottom lip.

“The luckiest man in the world.”

A/N: For the sake of the plot, I aged their daughter up, but I will still write some cute and fluffy stuff with her tiny and them navigating parenthood! I wrote this with the intention of thinking of how some people would be if they saw their fine ass partner using a pocket pussy when they’re sitting right there, hot and ready. I know I couldn’t hold out LOLLLL!!!

Creds to @/bbyg4rlhelps and @/enchanthings-a for the dividers!

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[starkeymeow]

hi! loving your rafe cameron who thingy at the moment it’s so good and i love all the different fandoms and ideas! i was wondering if you’d ever consider writing a slytherin rafe x hufflepuff reader one?

love you work <33

# HOGWARTS — slytherin!rafe who . . .

main masterlist | series masterlist

glances at you the first time during second year when you trip over your robes in the hallway and instead of laughing like his friends, he just keeps walking, but his gaze lingers half a second too long.

bumps into you on purpose one afternoon, knocking your bag to the ground, just to see if you’d cry or snap, and when you glare at him like you’re not scared at all, he grins for the first time in days.

scoffs when a professor partners him with you for a magical creatures project, muttering “great, a puff. this’ll be fun,” but still does every part of the work because he refuses to be outdone.

sends a jinx your way during third year dueling club, smirks when you fall, then just stares when you laugh and get right back up like you weren’t humiliated at all.

stays behind after class when you drop your quill and actually hands it back instead of kicking it like he used to. he doesn’t smile, but doesn’t look away from your eyes either.

starts watching you more during fourth year, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying to decide when exactly you stopped being annoying and started being interesting.

sighs dramatically when he’s paired with you again in potions but doesn’t argue this time, just lets you lead and mutters “guess you're not just sunshine and stupid after all.”

glares when you wave at him across the great hall, but still nods back.

tosses a sugar quill on your desk after snapping at you in front of the whole class, then walks off before you can thank him.

gets weirdly quiet in fifth year when someone calls you “just a puff” under their breath. he doesn’t say anything until after class when he meets that kid’s eyes and hexes their ink bottle to explode mid-essay.

starts sitting next to you in electives without being asked, and when someone points it out, he just shrugs like “we’ve partnered before. might as well.”

starts watching your quidditch matches, always near the back, arms crossed and scowl tight maybe, but he still never misses a game.

lets you wear his scarf during a snowy sixth year hogsmeade trip with a sigh, muttering “don’t stretch it out.”

fights with you in the courtyard after you catch him hexing someone again, and when you shove him, he grabs your wrist and kisses you, like he’s been waiting since second year.

doesn’t tell anyone about the kiss, but he doesn’t need to. everyone sees the way he stands beside you now.

still teases you in front of others, still rolls his eyes, still calls you “too soft,” but starts doing it while holding your hand under the table.

starts waiting for you outside your common room, hands in his pockets, pretending he’s “just walking by” even though it’s across the damn castle LMAO

pulls you aside before every quidditch match now, lifts your chin, says “don’t get distracted. and don’t die.”

listens when you talk about what you’ll do after hogwarts, doesn’t say his own plans, but quietly shifts his to be closer to yours.

says “you’re not allowed to fall in love with anyone else” on a late walk after curfew, and you realize it’s the closest he’s ever come to saying he loves you.

walks beside you on the last day of seventh year like it’s just another morning. he doesn’t kiss you goodbye just yet. he just says “you were the best thing i got out of this place.”

me when i write them a happy ending idc i dont wanna ruin them id probably cry

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[filthygalli]

All He Ever Wanted

OneShot: Fem! Reader x Gwi Ma

Main Masterlist

LBH Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI! +18, Possesive! Gwi Ma, Creampie, P n V, fingering, choking, praise kink, manipulation, Dom x Sub dynamic, Gwi Ma in a human form, mention of mental illness, blood, size kink if you squint, squirting, pet names, nipple play, licking, shower sex, pure filth tbh.

Word Count: 2648

Author’s Note: This was so fun to write, i have seen tons of Gwi Ma related art on X and they’re all so beautiful! Btw credits to @/morphoiogist on and @/Artist_artibear for this masterpiece! Go support the artists! 🧑‍🎨

You’ve been married to Gwi Ma for over 10 years, you know his secrets, that he’s a demon king who thrives on the souls of humans to be free from the demon world into the human world, your world.

You were in huge debt when you met him, scared that you might not make it a day, you have no money, barely getting enough food, but then you started to hear these voices inside your head, you thought you’re just being paranoid because of stress and lack of food in your body, but you weren’t. One night, you were looking at yourself in the mirror, eyes full of dark circles, lips chapped from dehydration, you sighed to yourself as you sobbed uncontrollably, wishing for it all to end. Then you heard a voice, a warm and powerful voice, “Aren’t you tired from all of the suffering?” It echoed through your head as your eyes widened as you looked behind your back, no one was there, “Who– who’s in there–?” Your voice is trembling in fear, the voice speaks again, “Someone who might end your suffering,” you looked around—eyes widened, “I- show yourself!” You yelled as your voice echoed through your small apartment, “If that’s what you want, little one.” The mysterious man spoke again and then a sound of deep chuckle filled your head as a glowing flame appears in front of you, suddenly your heart skipped a beat—you couldn’t move, it felt like you were frozen, eyes widened as your pupils dilated as if you were staring into the abyss, “Happy now?” A tall man towered your figure, he slowly walked towards you—as if he’s walking to his prey, his eyes glowing, purple marks inked in his skin, “Who- who are you..?” You managed to speak, he didn’t answer, you hit the cold wall behind you as he continued to walk slowly towards you—closing the gap between you as he pressed his body to yours, he grabbed your chin between his digits, his nails sharp, it graze your skin like a needle, you hissed, “I’m someone who can help you,” he confessed, eyes never leaving yours, “someone who can get you out from all of the sufferings,” he continued as he traced his fingers on your cheeks as you dared not to look at him, “You’re safe with me, I’ll make sure of it, little one.” He added as he leaned down to place his lips on your jaw, “I’ll make you mine,” he muttered against your skin as he pressed his lips against it, “Mine to worship.” He muttered, licking your skin all the way up to your cheeks, you hissed, heart racing, “Please–“ you begged as a tear rolled down on your cheeks, the man chuckled as he tasted your tear, the sound of his chuckles sends shivers down your spine, you felt like you couldn’t breathe, “Mine to protect.” He muttered as he leaned back up, eyes never leaving yours, “Look at me, Y/n.” He growled as he clamped a hand on your throat, a force that was enough to catch your attention back to him, “Pl-Please—“ you choked a gasp, “Look at me when i talk to you.” He muttered, eyes still glowing orange, You were holding his hand, to let go of you—your eyes are getting blurry, you’re about to pass out when he lets go of your throat.

Your body collapsed on the floor, choking and gasping for air, he looked down at you smirking to himself, “You should be thankful, little one.” He scoffed, you glared up at him, eyes filled with tears, “Fuck you.” You spat on him, he grinned darkly, “As you wish.”

You moaned like your life depends on it as you ride the man who told you that you will be saved from all of your sufferings, Gwi Ma, as he said. His nails dug deep on the flesh of your hips as you cried out his name, “That’s it little one, such a good girl.” He praised you as you bounced on his cock, You were fully naked, your body displayed beautifully in front of him, his eyes trailed on your breast as it bounced perfectly, your skin, your soft skin that glows under the moonlight, he leaned down to suck one of your nipple, “Don’t you dare stop.” He muttered before biting your nipple as you gasp, he flicked his tongue as he looks up at you, his eyes glowing, you did as you told as your hips grind against his, the tip of his cock never fails to hit the spot inside you—it made you see stars, it made you shake uncontrollably, his hand found your throat as he leaned back up, watching you ride him, “Be a good girl and cum for me little one, make me proud.” He praised you as his lips crashed into yours, you gasp as you feel yourself getting closer, it feels so wrong but yet it feels good, his cock filled your velvety walls completely, “Gwi Ma..” you moaned in between kisses as Gwi Ma slid his tongue inside your mouth—exploring the depths of it, he moaned as your tongues danced on each others mouth, he thrusted his hips up to meet yours, “Say my name.” He moaned, “Say my fucking name when you cum, i want you to moan my name.” He begged, his cock twitching uncontrollably inside you, “Gwi Ma, Gwi Ma—!” You cried out as he hold on to your hips to fuck you completely, his thrust were rough, rough enough to make your eyes roll from the back of your head, “Gonna cum, Gwi Ma– please–!” You begged as his nails dug deeper on your hips, you wince in pain—his long sharp nails was now coated of your blood, “Fuck, Y/n, Little one–“ his thrust is now getting sloppy, “Want me to fill this pussy up, hmm?” He growled as he roughly cupped your chin against his hand, while the other was still digging on your hips, “Please–“ You cried out, “Please, what little one?” He mocked, “Fill me up, i- i need you, please!” He chuckled deeply, he groaned as one final thrust he painted your walls white with his seed, spilling every last drop he could give to you, he moans your name in repeat like a fervent prayer, while you—you were a shaking mess on top of him, you squirted around his member as your pussy walls clenched around him, he groaned, “That’s it little one, give me everything you have, that’s it—such a good girl.”

After that night, he promised that he would come back for you, and he did. You’ve been married to Gwi Ma for over 10 years, he left his life behind as a demon king as he vowed to you that he will never go back there since he already have you, his life, his woman, his to worship. He told you everything that you needed to know, how did he become a demon king, how old is he—which, by the way, shocked you the most, he's over thousands of years old. When he said that, you choked from the water that you were drinking. You can see that Gwi Ma loved you, he trusted you and you trusted him too. He gave you everything that you could ever ask for, hell—he will give you the whole universe if you ask him to, he will burn everyone who looks into your way, you’re his, only his.

——

Gwi Ma kissed you softly as the two of you lay comfortably in your shared bed, his hands trailing down on your stomach, “Hmm, Gwi Ma,” you whimpered, “Yes, little one?” He murmured against your lips, “I have to shower,” you confessed, “Later.” Gwi Mwa whispered against your lips, “I have to, I'll be quick.” You promised, as Gwi Ma nodded—a slight pout displayed on his lips as you chuckled playfully, how can a demon king be this clingy to his woman? You gave him one final kiss as you disappeared and went in the shower.

The warm water touched your bare skin, it made you calm and content, you took a deep breath as you savor the moment under the warm water, closing your eyes as you run your hand on your damp hair.

You were showering when Gwi Ma stepped in without a word, A warm water ran down your spine as Gwi Ma pressed his bare chest on your back, you jumped a little, “I told you i’ll be quick.” You muttered, his lips already trailing on your shoulder blades. ”I know,” his fingers already trailing down on your stomach, “I couldn’t wait, I missed you.” He confessed as he sucked your skin gently, earning a whimper from your lips, you felt him smile on your skin, his fingers found your clit as he circles middle finger on it, you pressed your lips together, “Wanna hear your sounds, little one, let me hear them.” He commanded, voice soft and gentle, “Let me hear how much I'm gonna ruin you.” His voice was now dark as his eyes glowed, you opened your mouth, letting your whimpers let out as Gwi Ma praised you in return, “There we go, such a good girl.” He teased your entrance with his digits, “Please, Gwi Ma–“ you begged for his touch, “Tell me what you want, little one.” He asked, his eyes focused on you, pupils dilated—“I need you, Gwi Ma, please, I want you,” you begged as he chuckled, “I love it when you say my name like that, so eager for me.” He said as he slowly inserted his finger, his middle finger, it filled you completely, He grabbed you on your nape as he swung you around to face him, hitting the cold ceramic walls behind you, you opened your mouth to moan but his lips crashed into yours, owning your moans like it’s his, he swallowed all of your gasp and whimpers as his finger curled up inside your tight walls, not long after—he inserts an another finger, groaning in his mouth as his tongue tangled to yours, your hands found his damp hair, Gwi Ma’s erection stood proudly, you can feel it rubbing on your stomach, tip angry red as it beaded with pre cum, “Cum for me, little one.” He said pulling away on your lips just enough for him to speak, “Soak my fingers with your juices.” He commanded, “Now.” With that, you let yourself completely go as you came around his digits, your body quivering as your walls clenched around his digits uncontrollably, “such a good girl for me.”

You did as you told as you let the fingers of Gwi Ma satisfy you as you let go and became a shaking mess against him, you quivered and moaned his name like it’s the only thing you could say.

“You’re not getting any sleep tonight, just so you know, little one.” He pressed a kiss on your temple, fingers still curling slowly inside of you, massaging the bundle of nerves inside of you, “So good for me,” he breathed out, “You always have,” he kissed you again, more gentle and calculated, “Ever since the day i laid my eyes on you,” he kissed his way down on your jaw to your throat, “I knew i have to have you. All by myself.” He growled as his mouth captured your hardened nipple—while the other pinched between his fingers, he flicked his tongue on your nipple—eyes never leaving yours—you moaned at his action, your hands grabbed his hair, “Gwi Ma, please…” you plead as you felt Gwi Ma smirked on your skin before his mouth left your nipple, “Tell me what you need, little one, i need your words.” He murmured, “I need you, all of you.” You replied, voice shaking as the warm water splashed the both of you.

Gwi Ma wasted no time as he ordered your to wrap your legs around his waist, pressing up your body against the cold ceramic wall of the bathroom, he aligned his length on your entrance, your slick juices coated his bulbous tip, “I’m going to ruin you, and you’re going to thank me for it.” He growled as he roughly forced himself inside of you, you choked a moan as Gwi Ma breathes heavily, “Still so tight around me,” he murmured against your lips as you wrapped your hands around his neck—while his hand wrapped tightly around your throat, He moved his hips with such precision, it was gentle and soft, you moaned beautifully as the tip of his cock hits your spot senselessly, “Faster–!” You begged, nails digging deep on his broad shoulders, he bit your neck as you groaned, pain turning slowly into a burning lust. “Ask nicely, little one.” He commanded, as his tongue flicked on your sweet spot on your neck, you whine as Gwi Ma halted his hips, waiting for your please, “Faster, Please, Fuck me faster.” You begged, your eyes turned up to him, eyes looked so innocent. “Good girl.” He praised you, “Hold on to me.” He breathed out as he held on to your hips, nails digging deep—as the past mark of his sharp nails still ghosted against your skin, a reminder who you belong to.

He rammed his hips against your core, earning a moan after moan from your lips, “Fuck, sweetheart, I can’t get enough of you–“ he growled, “Gwi Ma–“ you whispered his name like a fervent prayer, “That’s it. Say. My name.” Each word is equal to each deep thrust into your core, you cried out as if you couldn’t take the pleasure anymore, “Don’t stop, Please, Don’t stop.” You whine as Gwi Ma chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving your gaze, “I’m not planning to, little one.” He said as your body shook against him, cumming around his length, “That’s it baby,” he praised you, his hips slowed its pace, letting you catch a breath, “Can you give me another one? Hmm?“ he asked as he kissed your forehead with such care, “I- I can’t, it’s too much, i feel sore–“ you begged as you felt his cock twitch in response inside of you, “You will give me another, I know you can.” He encouraged you, caressing the flesh on your hips, cock twitching inside of you as you cock warm him. “If you can’t, I’ll make sure you will.” He whispered darkly in your ear as he rammed his cock inside of you again, he looked down to see his cock splitting you open, a bulge shown in your belly, “Gwi Ma!” You moaned as he chuckled, “Shh, I'm right here little one, where I need to be,” he murmured as he pressed his other hand on your stomach, putting pressure on the bulge appearing in your stomach, “Inside you.” He growled, He didn’t stop fucking you as he pulled out an another orgasm out of you as your eyes hit the back of your head, making you moan his name louder than before, “Want my cum inside you, little one? Want me to fill you up?” He wrapped his hands on your throat, “Answer me!” He growled, eyes glowing orange, “Yes–!” You begged, eyes filled with tears as Gwi Ma looked at you with a lustful gaze, “That’s my Good girl.” He said as he thrusted his hips a few times before filling you up with thick spurts of cum, he groaned, growled, and moaned your name as if it’s the only thing he needed to do, you came around his cock, clenching your walls around his cock.

He stayed there inside of you, as if he belongs to be in there, inside your velvety walls where he feels warmth.

“You’re all I ever wanted, Y/n.” He panted as he ghosted his lips against yours.

Taglist: (if i mistakenly tagged you i’m sorry💔)

@mxriesss @thedreamingreaper @kimeungun114 @christmascoles @shynotded @xxmilkteaxx-blog @maah-sama @sylviavf

[fervent-adoration]

I think we need some more villain f/o representation... so, let's have a

VILLAIN F/O ASK GAME!!

Made with romantic f/os in mind. Pro/darkship DNI, please and thank-you! Our viewpoints clash and I would appreciate you finding another ask game to reblog!

What is your favorite personality trait of your f/o? Why is it your favorite? And how does it affect their actions as a villain?

What is your f/o’s most unorthodox act to show love?

What made you fall for your f/o?

How does your f/o show you that they love you? How does it match up with your preferences? (This is basically asking about love languages with more specifics)

Are there any fun facts about your f/o that you want to share?

Why is your f/o a villain rather than a “hero”? How do they see themself in this regard?

Are you a “f/o apologist”, a “I can fix them”, a “I’ll pretend that this never happened”, or a “I could make them worse” sort of partner in regards to your f/o and their villainous actions?

What’s the worst thing that your f/o has done? How do you feel about that? Is it canon to your selfship lore?

What is your dynamic with your f/o? As many dynamic descriptions as you want here!

What role do you play within your f/o’s villainy? A peer? An onlooker? Perhaps the one to try to stop them? What’ve you got?

How does your f/o feel about PDA?

How does your f/o’s past affect the way they approach their relationship with you?

What kinds of dates does your f/o like to go on with you?

What does your f/o visualize for the future with you? How does this align with your view for the future?

How did you win your f/o’s heart? Was it easy? What’s their favorite thing about you, do you suppose?

What kinds of compliments does your f/o give? Why these ones? Do you like them?

Does your f/o encourage you to become actively better, or do they encourage more nefarious behaviors?

Is your f/o good at taking care of things? How are they in a domestic setting?

How does your f/o attempt to impress you? Does it work?

How would your f/o react if they found you upset?

How did your f/o first take to learning about you? Did they ask you questions outright? Observe you when the two of you were together? Word of mouth from others? Or even something else?

Will your f/o do anything for you? What is their limit, if anything?

Was your f/o scared of falling in love?

Free space! Tell us about your f/o in however much detail you wish, and tell us about your favorite aspects of your relationship with them. This is the infodump question.

Feel free to reblog and have people send specific asks, or just fill out all of the questions for yourself!

[ladykailitha]

Three Cheers for Toby the Tiger Part 4

Thank you so much for all the love this story has been getting. I'm excited to see where this story going and it's nearing the end.

In this we have the results of the mischief, Steve flirting with Eddie, and everyone thinking they're cute.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

It turned out that anyone could be ejected from the game.

Eddie sat in the hall outside the other school’s gymnasium, costume half off, and tied around his waist, the head off, and his arms crossed as he slouched against the wall.

Principal Higgins came out of the gym with a sigh. “May I ask why you chose to use the opposing team’s captain as target practice?”

Eddie tilted his chin up and said, “He deserved it for going after Harrington the way he did. If anyone should be ejected from the game, it’s him.”

“I saw the play, Munson,” Higgins said, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It was a valid play.”

“Not if they knew Harrington had a concussion and was only there to keep the school from having to drop out of the tournament all together,” Eddie said coolly.

Higgins paled.

“Yeah,” Eddie groused. “I don’t know much about the game, but even I know that’s straight up bullshit.”

“You can’t possibly believe that they are trying to deliberately hurt Harrington!” Higgins bellowed, his voice bordering on outright panic.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said with a half shrug, looking away, “how good do you think the team’s chances are without him?”

Higgins gulped. “Right. You have been sufficiently chastised. I will speak to Coach Rowland about what we can do with Harrington in the meantime.”

Eddie sat up straight and looked up at him, curiously. “I’m not going to be punished?”

“I have berated you for a long time and have gotten your express word that it won’t happen again,” Higgins said with a straight face.

Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then realization spread over his features. “Oh. Yes, sir. I have been thoroughly reprimanded and promise to not throw balls at assholes.”

Principal Higgins cracked a smile for the first time. “See that you don’t.” He turned on his heel and then paused. “And for record, Munson next time try a little harder to make it look like an accident, yes?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Aye, aye, Captain!”

~

As they were getting back onto the buses that would take them back to Hawkins, Eddie spotted Harrington. He watched as he said something to Coach Rowland and then trot over to the cheer bus.

“Hey, Eddie?” he said a little breathy and all pinked cheeked.

He turned to him. “Hey.” He raised an eyebrow as he watched Steve get even redder.

“I just wanted to thank you for the assist tonight,” he said with a small smile. “Even Coach thinks they were aiming to get me injured for the season. He’s not a hundred percent sure they know about the concussion. But they know that if I’m gone, the team doesn’t have enough players to compete.”

“Hey,” Eddie said with a half shrug, “no worries. I had fun testing the limits of the refs tonight. If another team tries it, I’ll be a little more subtle.” He held up his forefinger and thumb close together.

Steve laughed. “Yeah? You going to tackle them to ground next time?”

“If it was football, I’m sure I could get away with it,” Eddie said with a snort. “Unless you basketball guys are holding out on me and you guys can tackle each other too?”

“God, I wish,” Steve said shaking his head. “It would make fouling the other guy way more fun.”

“Tough luck on that one, man,” Eddie said tilting his head to the side. “But then if you were playing something with a lot more contact they wouldn’t let you out on the court...field? Giant rectangle thingy.”

Steve laughed. “Actually you’d be surprised. They’d just hide the concussion better and send me out anyway. Got make sure the team wins!” He shook hands like they had invisible pompoms in them. “Go team!”

Eddie blinked at him. “That’s horrific.”

“Don’t act like it’s not the same in cheer,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen them do stunts that would be illegal in any other sport, but because it’s girls and not actually considered a sport, it’s all okay, right?”

Eddie stopped for a moment and cocked his head to the side. He thought about Chrissy’s ankle and Eleanor’s stalker.

“When you’re right, you really hit it on the nose,” he said with a huff. “Any word on what’s going to be happening with you for the rest of the season?”

Steve shook his head. “I just hope it’s not letting Tommy and Billy off the bench, because I think that would really suck.”

“You and me both.”

~

Thankfully Billy and Tommy stayed on the bench at the next game but it seemed like Coach Rowland had come up with a different strategy.

Steve still went out for the tip off, because he was the best at it, but immediately after he would get the ball, Coach would call a time out and sub Carver in. Then in the final minute of each quarter Steve would be out of the court, playing his heart out.

There was only once that game were Eddie thought that a player on the opposing team had fouled Steve deliberately as he didn’t even have the ball.

Eddie made his life hell for the rest of the game, always acting innocent. It gave Eddie great pleasure when the player was ejected from the game for getting in his face.

After the game, Principal Higgins just patted Eddie on the shoulder and murmured, “Good job.”

Steve came jogging up to him as they were filing into buses again. “You know with a throw like that you’d make a hell of a pitcher.”

Eddie chuckled. “I’ll leave the throwing balls around on the reg to the jocks, I like mine right where they are, thanks!”

Steve let out a strangled noise before dissolving into giggles. “I’ll have to remember that one next time!” He winked.

Eddie about swallowed his tongue. Because there was no way Steve Harrington was flirting with him.

“Anyway,” Steve said, running his fingers through his hair, “I just wanted to thank you for going after that jerkwad tonight. You managed to convince Coach Rowland that they are trying to take me out.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Eddie said solemnly. “I hope this means he’ll take it more seriously now.”

“Oh he is,” Steve said in wide-eyed earnestness. “So yeah, I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Eddie said shoving his hair in front of his face. “It’s nice to be appreciated once in a while.”

“If any of the guys give you flack for the mascot thing,” Steve said, blush rising on his cheeks, “just let me know and I’ll sort them out.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Eddie said, dropping the strand of hair. “I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder. “I know you are, but I like taking care of people. I’ll see you around, Munson.” And then he turned on his heel and walked back to his bus.

Megan wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Looks like someone’s got a crush!” she teased.

Eddie looked at her in opened-mouth shock. “I do not have a crush on Steve Harrington! You take that back, missy!”

She cackled and then hopped up the stairs of their bus, her ponytail swishing. She grabbed the railing and looked back at him with a grin. “I didn’t say you had a crush, Eddie.” She winked at him and then disappeared into the big yellow monstrosity.

Eddie turned to Coach Miller, pointing the direction Steve had gone. “Can you believe that?”

Coach Miller looked at him for a moment. “Do you mean that can I believe Harrington has a crush on you or that can I believe that Steve came all the way over here to thank you?”

Eddie’s mouth worked for a moment or two without sound coming out before he snapped his jaw shut with a click. He gulped. “Both?”

She stared him straight in the eye. “Yes. Now get on the god damned bus.”

Eddie let out a noise that he would absolutely deny was a squeak and hurried up the stairs to enter the bus. He scrambled down the aisle to sit next to Eleanor.

“Do you think Harrington has a crush on me?” he asked, chewing on his thumbnail.

Eleanor blinked at him for a moment. “Well hello to you, too.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “There is no time for niceties when both Megan and Coach think he’s coming over to flirt with me when he comes over to thank me.”

“Ah,” Eleanor said with a grimace. “Yeah, I mean if he liked boys that’s exactly what it looks like. but that’s a pretty big if, you know.”

“Yeah,” he said relaxing against the seat. “Yeah. It’s a pretty big if that the hottest guy in school would have a big, ole gay crush, let alone for the freak of Hawkins High!”

She nudged his arm with her elbow. “Though it does sound like you might have a crush on him,” she teased, sing-song.

“Eleanor Rigby Morris!” he protested. “You take that back!”

Eleanor cackled. “Not my middle name, you dork! But I’m serious! You rant and rave about the guy, but you never really call him out or bully him like you do other players on either the basketball or football teams.”

Eddie slouched into the seat and crossed his arms. “You and Jeff have been conspiring again. He thinks I have a crush on Harrington, too.”

“Jeff’s the hot black kid, right?” Eleanor said cocking her head to the side, finger on the side her face.

Eddie straightened up and looked at her with wide eyes and a slow smile spreading over his face. “Oh, this is juicier than Harrington having a crush on poor little me. Do you have a crush on my best friend, Eleanor?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, eyes wide.

“Ooh, you do!” he cackled gleefully, clapping his hands. “You have the hots for my very nerdy best friend.”

Eleanor turned bright pink and ducked her head. “He’s sweet. He holds the door open for me in our math class every day and helps me out when Mr. Mundy is too busy.”

“And much better choice then meathead Kyle!” Eddie crowed. “I approve!”

She pushed him out of the seat, him cackling all the way down. “That’s not hard. The bar is literally on the floor.”

“Munson!” Coach Miller barked. “Get your ass off the floor! I’m not going to be the one scraping your face off the windshield if Frank has to break suddenly!”

“Aye, aye!” Eddie said with a sardonic salute.

He scrambled back to the seat and glared at Eleanor for getting him into trouble. He stuck out his hand, “Truce? I won’t tease you about Jeff if you don’t tease me about Harrington?”

She looked at his hand for a moment before she shook it. “Truce!”

~

Tag List: FOUR SLOTS REMAINING

1- @niniel-karenine @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@tartarusknight @gloomysoup @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @oopsallgender @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gutterflower77

8- @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss @steddieislife @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale

9- @mags6422 @wheneverfeasible @blackpanzy @the-fantastical-asexual @stedestielfrattficlover

10- @themoonagainstmers

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Seven) (18+) / SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.3k / navigation / inbox / summer of series

A/N: a second spring fling update in 2 weeks??? and a long one???? we're so back, baby. this one's juicyyy i hope you like it >:) <3 day two is finished! thank you for sticking around and being patient with me, and I hope you enjoy :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You hadn’t exactly tuckered yourself out while mini-golfing, but you’d certainly exhausted your brain and your emotions while thinking through the sunset with Jake, so you’re eager to get your hands on a drink. 

It’s late, past what you’d normally call dinnertime, but not late enough to sleep after getting buzzed. Your only hope is the bar food, and you wonder if you’ll be able to choke down garlic knots after downing three drinks. That’s your plan for the night- three, no more, and hopefully no less. Three is the magic number, the one that will make you forget about your inner turmoil while still leaving you conscious enough to remember the night’s events tomorrow. You’re not the biggest fan of blacking out, but you’re glad you’re with Jake if you do.

You’re snacking on appetizers during your first drink, letting Daniel hand-feed you mozzarella sticks during your second, and by the third and final drink you’d planned for the night, you’re clumsily locking hands and arms with Danica, whirling around the small square of tiles they’re calling a dance floor. You’re whooping, cheering, and laughing as each of you stumble around each other, but you’re having fun, far more thrilling fun than you’ve had thus far and it’s pleasing your buzzed brain to not be thinking.

Jake’s tried to inject some Texan flair into your dancing, seizing the opportunity to teach you what he swears up and down is a ‘simple’ line dance when Fake ID begins blaring over the speakers. 

You think he’s full of shit.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen Footloose, you’re no Julianne Hough.

You and Danica both decide that the footwork is too difficult in your inebriated states, and your shoes just don’t click on the floor when Jake’s do, no matter how hard you try. Although, that might have something to do with how distracting he is, swinging his hips around while turning on his heels, extra pronounced to show you how it’s done.

Not that you’ve been looking at his hips moving, and if you have, it’s totally the drinks’ fault. And it’s especially their fault that- not that, if, it looks good.

You’re enjoying the atmosphere of the bar much more tonight than you were last night, which you feel guilty for, because Daniel had been a dream not even 24 hours ago. But things seem more solid now, more real, more comfortable despite your two left feet.

You’re not sure how, because your entire perception of Jake is widening, deepening, shifting. But one of the perks of being stuck together for years in a work environment where your lives depend on each other is that you happen to trust him, at least a little. 

He might not be the first person you’d choose for this particular endeavor, or the second, or the third, and maybe he wouldn’t have even been the last, before Danica had gotten to you, but you know you can fall back on at least being his friend while you’re trying to rhythmically peel your shoes off of the sticky floor of a bar.

Your brain had been buzzing with uncertainties last night, would Daniel kiss you, when would Daniel kiss you, how would Daniel kiss you, would it be as good as it was in the elevator, but here and now, you can predict Jake’s every move, even if Danica swears there’s new meaning behind it.

“No, darlin’, that’s not- that’s not it.” Jake shakes his head, and the speakers nearly drown him out as he studies your form, “You’re trying to jump, all you need to do is pick one foot up. It looks fancy ‘cause you’re turnin’ too, but it’s just one foot up and a spin, then you’re landing on the raised foot and doing the same with the opposite side.”

He demonstrates, and you stare blankly.

“Like this.” He offers, reaching for your waist with both hands, “Right foot up, heel against the floor.”

You let him shimmy your hips into position, and prop your heel up against the linoleum.

“Good. Now step back this way with the other foot,” He instructs, tugging at your hips, “And you’re gonna turn yourself to the right. Quarter-turn-” He calls, when you give it all you’ve got and nearly end up backwards, “Just a quarter-turn, darlin’. And then you’ve gotta come back the way you came, do it all this way. Left foot now, kick-ball-change.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” You yell to be heard over the music, your shoe slamming against the floor when you nearly lose your balance trying to imitate Jake’s impressive footwork, “Jake, I don’t think I’m made for line dancing!”

“You’re not.” Jake concludes, his voice deepening as he watches you try to keep pace with the song, but it’s useless when the last chorus ends and the music dies down, “But that doesn't mean we can’t try again.”

“The song’s over.” You point out, out of breath and grateful for the single second of silence before the next one plays, “I guess I’ll never learn.”

“I’ve got it on my phone.” Jake informs you, “And if we aren’t gonna have sex we’ve gotta be gettin�� some other exercise. You and me, darlin’, line dance drills first thing in the morning.”

You stuff your face into Danica’s bare shoulder, the strapless cut of her dress giving you a perfect expanse of skin to groan into. She laughs and you feel it where your nose is pressed into her neck- her perfume’s really nice. Elegant but sweet, something you’d want as an air freshener hanging from your rearview mirror.

You rest there, feeling her hand make contact with your waist as she tucks you against her. You sway slowly to the much more subdued song over the speakers, something about love and marriage and babies in the carriage. 

You remember last night’s haze- as much as your brain allows, and you recall being spun in a barstool by Daniel. You’d enjoyed it at the time, but this slow dance doesn’t make you nearly as dizzy, which you give Danica a point for. 

Perhaps a scoreboard would help you figure out what to do here?

Your head’s no longer in the clouds from Daniel’s allure, but thanks to your drinks your feet aren’t firmly on the ground anymore, either.

It’s actually Danica that lists sideways, but the way you’re pressed up against her means that you lean into it instead of against it, and the both of you tumble with startled yelps. You’re not so far gone that you don’t know you’re falling, but you’re too tipsy to balance yourself, and you resign yourself to breaking your nose against the dance floor as you fall for the second time in 24 hours.

Deja vu is not being kind to you on this cruise.

Danica goes down first, and you’re both lucky that Jake is there to chase after you, because he manages to lunge and slip his hand beneath her head before she can crack it against the tile, and he winds up clutching your back to his chest, keeping you upright against his own body. He’s hovering over Danica on the floor, one hand beneath her head and the other wrapped around your middle. It seems almost effortless, the way he keeps you upright, and you find that none of your weight is resting on your feet with the way they’re limply resting on the ground between Jake’s own. You’re just- hanging there, saved by Jake’s strong arms. You can see muscles bulging in his forearms as he tries keeping his center of gravity grounded without dropping either of you, but Daniel’s made his way over by now, mere seconds too late to catch you, and takes Danica’s head from Jake’s palm.

“I got it.” Daniel mumbles, neutral as a combination of gruff to Jake and crooning to Danica. She looks just as shocked as you are at your sudden change of perspective, and she lets Daniel haul her up into a seated position, resting her weight against his side.

“Jesus. You two can’t handle the damn dance floor.” Jake pants, his breath puffing against your ear as he straightens up. He’d been crouched over, and you’re impressed that he’d been able to stay upright himself with the way he’d hung onto your languid form, practically dangling you from his chest.

“Are you okay?” Daniel ducks to meet Danica’s glassy gaze, his voice soft and his eyes concerned. 

She nods, scrubbing a hand over her eyes, “I think so. Jake- did you catch me?”

“I hope I did. Does your head hurt?” He frowns, and now that you’ve remembered how to use your feet again, you attempt to. You stand, trying to squirm out of his hold around your midsection but he doesn’t let go, only squeezing you tighter to his chest like a silent reprimand.

“Jake-” You grunt, trying to pry his hand off of your waist but he swats you away, eyes still worriedly locked on Danica.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” She decides, “I’m just dizzy. And- um, a little sick.”

Daniel moves much quicker this time, standing and bending over to meet her instead of having his entire body in the splash zone, “Can you make it to the bathroom? Or do you want to just sit for a while and see if it passes?”

She swallows experimentally, and grimaces, “Bathroom. Please.”

“I can take her,” You offer, but Jake’s other hand flies to your waist now, and he manhandles you around to face him. You nearly lose your balance again when he spins you, and you’re so intimidated by Jake’s eyes staring directly into your own that you don’t feel steady despite your feet being on the ground.

“Wait. What about you?” He asks, peering into your eyes like he’ll find signs of a concussion in them, “Did you hit anything?”

His scrutiny reminds you of earlier in the pool, when your bikini had come untied and you’d seen genuine concern from Jake for one of the first times in your life, unmarred by amusement, scorn, or his ego. It had been raw, real, and you see the near-permanent cocky glaze clear from his eyes like clouds drifting away from the sprawling light of the sun. Underneath is Jake, really, truly Jake, and you don’t know how to act when you find yourself met with nothing but sincerity.

“I’m fine.” You manage, your protests melting into a feeble hand on his wrist, not pulling, not pushing, just holding, “Jake, you can- you can let me go, I’m okay.”

He takes a breath, then releases the pressure on your waist, but his hands don’t lower and yours doesn’t drop from his. You stay there for a moment, by choice, and then a soft groan comes from Danica and you remember there’s things going on outside of whatever vortex you and Jake had been sucked into just now. The music comes flooding back into your senses, you remember you’re standing in the sticky remains of dozens of spilled drinks on the dance floor, and Daniel’s eyes on you and Jake blaze, not warm like Jake’s sun but scorching, burning, painful.

Jake drags his hands off of your hips and your arm falls back to your side.

“Come on,” Your voice is almost shaky, something weak and frail as you let Danica drape herself over your shoulders, “It’s not that far to the bathroom. You think you can make it?”

She nods, but her response is more of a grunt than anything else. You feel for her- there’s nausea roiling in your own gut from where Jake had inadvertently squeezed your stomach.

You help her move slowly and carefully into the bathroom, trudging under her weight as she rests her face in the crook of your neck. It’s comforting, but now you’re marveling even more at how Jake had kept you both suspended, your tired limbs sluggish and struggling to hold another person’s weight.

Jake hadn’t been knocking back drinks like you had, but you have to hand it to him; he’s got military muscles.

Jake watches carefully as you and Danica cross the threshold of the bathroom, feeling the same urge to barge in as he had the night prior. This all feels like a time loop, where each day gets more confusing and complicated than the last. Same bar, same people, same drinks, but wildly different feelings in the air.

He wonders if Danica’s advice has been paying off- sure, you’d been receptive enough on the golf course, but he’s unfamiliar with doing anything but needling you, and trying to puzzle out your reactions to things while also engaging in an entirely new set of behaviors is a lot for him to handle.

He wishes he could read your mind.

This cruise gives him the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s an isolated environment that encourages sex without complications and people he’s never going to see again in his life-

Except for you.

Of course you’re here too. 

Of course he couldn’t have just taken Coyote’s advice in peace, of course he couldn’t have gotten away from all the buzz of the San Diego port and fucked his feelings out on some random woman, using her as an outlet for all of his conflicting feelings on getting older and settling down. He’s in his thirties trying to live at twenty-one, used to the bachelor life but watching all of his friends get married and have kids right before his eyes. Each one is a wake up call, and waking up to a stranger in his bed opens a chasm beneath his heart that he digs deeper every time.

And it doesn’t help that he’s found himself drawn to you. At a time he’d have called you enemies or rivals, and even just a day before this cruise he would have described your relationship as something pitted against him. But you’re his favorite to mess with, you’re the one whose side he drifts to unconsciously, even if it’s just to knock you around by your helmet, and he slides into a comfortable routine of giving you a hard time every time you work together. Perhaps it was born out of contempt or jealousy but as he’s grown, shifted, deepened, it’s become something he does by default. The actions have stayed the same but the man has changed, and Danica’s suggestion that the actions may have to change along with the man thrusts Jake into highly uncomfortable territory.

No one has ever called Jake Seresin a vulnerable man, and giving anyone the opportunity to do so now makes him feel like he’s spinning out behind the controls.

Luckily for him, an agitating snarl comes from over his left shoulder to oh-so-kindly snap him out of his reverie.

“Are you just gonna stand there and wait for them to come back?” Daniel asks, his voice rough and jagged, “You can relax- they don’t need their guard dog right now.”

Jake turns, his face hardening into the smirk he wears so often, “Well staying alert was what just saved the day, wasn’t it? I noticed you didn’t get there in time.”

Daniel’s eyes flash dangerously, something steely in them that Jake notices every time something interferes with his faux-chivalry.

“You know what else I noticed? I think you’ve got a problem with me.” Jake pushes, edging into Daniel’s space like he’s practiced with dozens of opponents before. His signature move- push just far enough to get the other person to start the fight.

“Now is it the height,” Jake inches forwards, looking down at Daniel with his shoulders squared, “Or the muscles?” He doesn’t even have to accentuate those, “Or, is it that you thought you were gonna be gettin’ it on with two women tonight, and it’s looking like you’re down to none?”

“She doesn’t like you,” Daniel seethes, “Neither of them do.”

And maybe he hits his mark, maybe it’s ‘like’ instead of ‘want’- love instead of sex - maybe it’s the way he believes what he says, the conviction in his tone and in his tensed shoulders, but Jake bristles, jaw tightening and muscles tensed.

“You’re a cocky, self-centered, arrogant douchebag,” Daniel declares, “And that persona’s a dime a dozen straight out of high school. She wants- she deserves something better than that. She deserves someone better than you. A real man, not some frat boy who thinks one smirk can win him whoever he wants. And even if you manage to ‘get her’, even if you wear her down and coerce her into giving you what you want,” Daniel exhales heavily, reminding Jake of a stubborn, vicious bull, seeing red in the apples of Jake’s cheeks, “You’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing you made hers worse.”

Jake’s only silent for a few seconds, and then his voice is lower and more dangerous than it’s ever been, “Get out of my face before I knock your teeth out, son.”

“You know I’m right. And that’s why you’re mad,” Daniel goads, unafraid of Jake even if he should be, which is infuriating to the hotheaded pilot in and of itself. Jake leans forwards, fist itching, begging to drive itself into Daniel’s jaw but he restrains himself with the last shred of his self-control as Daniel keeps running his mouth, “You’re learning for the first time ever that some women won’t spread their legs for you just ‘cause you ask, and that you might actually have to care about them.”

“I do care about her!” Jake snaps, nearly shouting now, and the last thing on his mind is whether he’s drawing a crowd or not. It’s all-out, here and now, Jake vs. Daniel, onlookers be damned.

“No you don’t. You care about sex. You care about getting laid and you care about winning.” Daniel’s chest heaves, and Jake feels that almost insatiable itch to cock a fist back and slam it into Daniel’s nose so hard it breaks, “She told me that last night. She’s too good for you, man.” Daniel warns, the sneer on his face so disgusted you’d think Jake was a slug he’d trodden on in the middle of the sidewalk, “And whether you admit it or not, it’s true. Whether she forgets it or not, it’s true. So do whatever you want, fuck her or don’t,” Daniel scoffs, “But you’ll never deserve her.”

The only reason Jake doesn’t knock his teeth loose right then and there is because Daniel’s had the good sense to step back a few feet, and compose himself like he’s not about to fight back. There’s a few wary onlookers who eye them cautiously, edging away from the pair just in case they snap, but Jake’s not stupid- he doesn’t start fights, he wins them. He falls into old habits, abandoning sight of what the ‘new Jake’ would do and goading, smirking, pushing.

“And you do? You deserve her?”

“Maybe not. But I do more than you do.” Daniel’s clenched fist comes to rest on the back of one of the barstools, “And even she knows that.”

“It don’t matter what you think we’re worth.” Jake scoffs, breathing heavily, “She decides what she wants. Now who’s trying to win?”

“I am winning!” Daniel seethes, his voice roaring over the music as his fist slams into the upholstered cushion, “Just because neither of us have had sex yet doesn’t mean we’ve lost! All you’ve done so far is stepped on people’s toes and bullied your way into every conversation Y/N has with anyone. You think that’s attractive? She wants a real man, and you’re not one.”

“For once,” Jake narrows his eyes at Daniel, slits that ooze contempt and disgust, “I ain’t trying to win. And seeing you throw another one of your little temper tantrums about it makes me glad I’m not the man I was five years ago. If that’s what I looked like,” Jake spits, “No wonder she doesn’t wanna trust me now. But the difference is, Daniel, that one of us is changin’, and the other one’s punching a hole in a barstool because he’s coming in second.”

“Stay away from her.” 

Jake laughs, a dangerous sound that he hopes Daniel takes as a warning, “No, asshole. You stay away from her. I mean it. She may deserve better than me,” Jake breathes, his jaw clenched firmly, “But whatever that is, it’s not you.”

If Danica hadn’t let out a weak, slightly wet cough from the door to the bathroom, Daniel would have lunged at Jake. But he doesn’t, and they turn to watch you shuffling out with Danica still draped over your shoulder.

“She wants to go to bed,” You glance warily at Daniel, “Just- don’t jostle her too much. Walk slow and don’t take the elevators.”

“Come here.” Daniel hums, hoisting Danica’s limp form off of your frame and cradling her in his own, “Are you feeling dizzy still?”

“Just from the drinks.” She nods, “And- sick. But nothing more than that. I should have eaten better before this.”

Jake hums sympathetically, and you feel your own near-empty stomach roil in indignation that you’d sicced liquor on it before food. Nothing sounds good now, not that you’re full of alcohol, but eating will be better than not eating, so you let yourself drift to Jake’s side and wait for him to notice you.

When he does, his entire focus shifts, and he cranes his neck downwards slightly to peer at you closer, “You okay?”

“Fine. Just- a little sick, too.” You admit, “Can we get something to eat?”

“Of course.” Jake nods, his hand flying to the small of your back whether consciously or not.

“We could all go,” Daniel offers, but the way he leans towards you makes Danica whine in discomfort as her head spins. He’s quick to correct it, but you shake your head at his offer.

“No, she needs to get to bed. Do you want us to bring you something later?” You offer, “We can ask for to-go boxes.”

“You can order room service.” Jake grins, a sneer in intention but not by looks, “Danica, honey, feel better.”

“Thank you.” She croaks, and Jake’s hand around your waist tugs you pointedly towards the door.

You try throwing Daniel and Danica apologetic looks, but you’re dragged out of the bar too quickly.

You feel irritation rising in your chest at Jake, something he’d been getting good at not triggering in you for the last couple hours. You side-eye him, but you let him continue leading you to the elevators instead of wrenching yourself out of his grasp, “That was rude, Jake.”

“He’s rude.” Jake states, his eyes forward and refusing to meet yours, “You didn’t hear what he was saying about you while you were in the bathroom.”

Your brows furrow, and when you enter the thankfully-empty elevator, you turn to face him instead of standing by his side, “About me? What did he say?”

“The kinda thing I would’ve said a few years ago.” Jake frowns, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that’s meant to come off as lazy but really just shows his tensed muscles.

“That bad?” You laugh nervously, trying to diffuse the tension while being eaten alive by your own nerves. Daniel? Sweet, perfect, caring- okay, slightly complicated and anger-prone Daniel? 

24 hours ago you’d have called Jake a liar. Now you notice the stiffness in his jaw as he gnaws on the inside of his cheek and wonder how many times he’s tried to tell you something and you’ve assumed he was messing with you.

“What do you want for dinner?” You try, and he glances carefully at you where you stand across from him. Apparently he appreciates that you’ve dropped the subject, because his shoulders deflate slightly.

“I don’t know what’s open.” He checks his watch, finding the hour a little too late if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, “The restaurants stop taking reservations after 7. And all that’s left is fast food and ice cream. We might have to order room service.”

The thought of gorging on half-cold room service beside Jake, crammed into the same bed while trying desperately not to touch each other, makes your stomach hurt worse. There’s too many things happening, too many things to think about, and you regret having stopped yourself at three cocktails.

“I want another drink,” You groan, leaning against the wall behind you as the elevator climbs steadily towards the top decks, the ones with the most food service, “Can we go to the buffet?”

--

The buffet is closed, but the bar is not. Drink number four wasn’t planned, but neither were the revelations you’ve been having, and taking care of Danica had really sobered you up. You’re in need of a good old-fashioned margarita, and once you’ve got one in your hands you let Jake parade you around the pool’s deck, peering at menus to quick-service restaurants that are already closed for the night.

“Wings?” You ask, but the kiosk is closed.

“We could do sushi.” Jake offers, but the neon sign is no longer lit.

It’s several twists and turns to investigate every little storefront, and several sips of your margarita to bring back your buzz, but it quickly becomes apparent that there’s only one sign left lit this late at night.

“I guess it’s pizza. Again.” Jake hums, “Is that gonna be okay on your stomach?”

“It’s fine. It’s still better than room service.” You have visions of reheated buffet food, “Let’s just get different toppings and pretend we didn’t have this six hours ago.”

What you decide on is veggie, hoping that the bell peppers and greens might do something kind to your stomach even if they’re soaked in grease from the cheese and bread beneath them.

You beeline for the table you’d sat at earlier as a party of four, but Jake catches your elbow and drags you closer to the edge of the deck.

“Let’s look at the water,” He urges, “Now that the lounge chairs aren’t all taken.”

“We should-” You start unsteadily, having chugged half of your drink in order to not spill it while balancing your pizza as well, “We should get up really early tomorrow to get a spot.”

“Tomorrow we’ll be docked,” Jake reminds you, “We can go to a beach instead of a tiny swimming pool.”

“Oh, right.” You hum, cramming pizza into your mouth to soothe the ache in your stomach, “What are you gonna do once we get off the ship?”

“We can try some excursions,” Jake shrugs, folding his pizza in half so that it doesn’t droop, “The website said something about a golf cart tour, and snorkeling off the coast, if you wanna do that.”

“You don’t have to do everything with me, y’know.” You hum, onions leaving a bitter taste on your tongue, “If you want to do something you don’t have to do it with me.”

He rears back, faux-offended, “Yeah? And what if I want to?”

“Then we can,” You chuckle, “Just- don’t let me hold you back more than I already am.”

He’d been raising his pizza to his mouth to take a bite, but he stops short and watches you instead of eating. You’re turned towards the sea, stray hairs blowing around your face as the nighttime wind pushes across the deck. He’s not sure what you’re seeing in the waves, but probably something induced by your mostly-empty margarita.

“You’re not holding me back.” He hums, soft and low, “I like doing stuff with you. Remember? You’re fun sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” You nod, “Right. Well, I’m just letting you know.”

“I know.” Jake assures you, nudging his knee into yours, “And if I’m ever- y’know, too pushy? You can tell me to kick rocks and eat-”

“Dolphins!” You shriek.

“Dolphins?” Jake’s brows furrow, “Why would I eat- oh. Dolphins.”

You’re pointing frantically off the side of the deck, and Jake quickly maneuvers himself onto your lounge chair to grab you from behind before you can launch yourself over the railing. There is, in fact, a pod of dolphins beside the boat, weaving over and under each other, breaching the surface to showcase their silvery skin that glints in the moonlight. The rational part of Jake’s brain suggests that they’re feeding off of any sea life being churned up by the boat’s trajectory, but the margarita part of your brain seems to think they’ve come to show off for you. 

“Jake, look!” You gush, enthused, and then your ass is in his face.

Jake’s eyes widen when you prop yourself up on all fours, your knees now grating against the rough mesh of the lounge chair as you lean even further over the railing. It puts your ass right at eye-level, and the shorts you’re donning are loose enough that they offer him a rather salacious view of what’s beneath them. He tears his eyes away as soon as his brain comes back to him, even if he feels a rush of blood travel south. In order to stop you from tumbling he has to stand and grab you, rolling onto his own knees on instinct to grab hold of your shoulders and hoist you upright. It means that your ass is firmly, snugly flush with Jake’s crotch, and you don’t seem to notice because you’re too caught up in the dolphins swimming beside the boat.

“Jesus, please don’t fall.” He begs, his lips beside your ear as the wind blows cold against both of your faces.

“I won’t fall! But look, they’re jumping!”

Jake ensures you’re secure in his grip before peering down over the railing, and it really is a sight to behold. There must be five dolphins visible, jumping and diving through the churning water caused by the boat’s motor. They’re not vocalizing much, but every once in a while a click or a screech floats up on the ocean breeze and Jake hears you laugh the way that only someone who’s had four cocktails in a row can laugh.

As nervous as he is that you were going to plummet into the sea, he can appreciate the way you’re leaning into the wind and watching the dolphins below. You’re genuinely excited, something he hasn’t seen on this trip so far, and rarely gets to see on the tarmac. He catches a glimpse of your eyes when you turn your head to watch a dolphin to your left, and they’re shining like the moonlight is on the water. He doesn’t miss the way you melt into him, either, and he’ll take credit for this one instead of letting the liquor.

You let him hold you around the middle, though he’s sure you haven’t noticed that you’re nearly grinding against him when you stick your ass out to lean further over the railing. He’s trying really valiantly not to let himself be affected by this, but he’s fairly certain that at least half of something is going on downstairs from physical stimulation alone. Hopefully it won’t be visible when you pull away, and if it is, hopefully you won’t notice.

“This is like,” You start, your voice nearly lost to the wind as you face away from Jake, “-that scene in Titanic.”

You throw your arms out, and Jake has no problem curling his further around your belly.

“I’ve never seen it.” He admits, shouting to be heard over the noise of the ship and the whipping of the breeze.

“Me neither!” You laugh, and you fall back against him, nearly knocking him off of the chair altogether.

“Hey!” He yelps, but he’s laughing when you squirm at the way his fingers dig into your side momentarily. You’re not a fan of being tickled, and he knows this from painstakingly earned experience, (a kick to the balls), but he tests a few gentle squeezes at your side to get you giggling again.

“Stop! Stop,” You gush, laughing and panting, and he does, his fingers stilling on your waist. He’s on his butt now, with your weight against him, and he reclines the wrong way against the lounge chair to let you rest comfortably.

“That pizza was cold.” You muse, “But it did help. I don’t feel as sick anymore.”

“That’s good. Drinking on an empty stomach,” Jake scoffs, “Are you trying to black out?”

“Kind of.” You admit, your voice taking a quiet, somber turn, “I’ve had… a lot to think about, recently.”

Jake nods slowly, carefully, “Yeah. Me too.”

“And you’re not drinking about it?” You crane your neck to chance a glance back at him, that shimmer in your eyes dulled but not gone, “You’re braver than I am, Jake.”

“No, I’m smarter than you are.” He teases, “Someone has to make sure we don’t fall over the side of the deck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall!” You whine, “You’re so dramatic. And besides, that’s not fair. I should take a turn being sober so that you can drink.”

“You should, Miss Margarita.” Jake agrees, “Just don’t let me get too smashed before snorkeling tomorrow, okay? I don’t want to try and befriend a stingray.”

You giggle at the imagery, your cheeks flushed and hot where they brush against his bicep briefly. Your grin is toothy and infectious, carefree from the liquor and- dare he say love.

Not for him, of course, or- not like that for him, it’s just that he’d like to think that eight years by your side constitutes some feelings of fondness towards him, and that maybe you could perhaps, possibly say it’s love. Even if it’s completely platonic. Just- you could use the word love, probably.

He wishes he was drunk.

“We should go to bed.” You hum, sounding almost sad, “I’m tipsy and I want to be up early tomorrow for the excursions. We can beat the morning rush and get a head start on exploring.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He lets your waist go as you stand from his grip, righting himself after you’ve proved yourself steady on your feet. You gather your trash slowly but surely, and you only miss your shot at the garbage can with one balled-up napkin stained with copious amounts of pizza grease.

Neither of you say anything about the way his hand gravitates towards your waist again while he’s walking you back towards the elevators. Maybe it’s because you’re too buzzed to have a meaningful conversation, or maybe it’s because he’s doing a good enough job at pretending it’s just so that you don’t tip over again. Whatever the reason, Jake’s grateful for it when you pass by a closed piano lounge, and the tune of your favorite song makes its muffled way through the doors.

“Jake,” You breathe, that same shining excitement in your eyes as before, “I love this song.”

“I know. You put it on in the car every time we drive somewhere,” He grins, letting the hand on your waist serve as a leader as the other grasps at one of your hands, “You’re into them cheesy love songs, aren’t’cha?”

“Not all of us can be line dancers, cowboy.” You inform him smartly, your feet a slight second out of tune with your brain as you begin a slow, clumsy waltz. You reach for his shoulder, letting your other hand melt into his own,“Some of us enjoy the quiet things in life.”

Jake’s never been quiet for a second. He’d ridden saddle bronc in rodeos since he was old enough to, and even then he’d refused to use the smaller, more tame horses that they’d offered him. No, he wanted the biggest, the meanest, the best, and he’s always tried emulating those same characteristics so that no one can ever tame him.

But here, now, you’re swirling him around outside of a closed bar, tipsy and dizzy, stumbling over his feet and your own alike. Your eyes are closed and your face is curved in a soft, serene smile, and he feels your grip on his shoulder loosen comfortably as you ease into a rhythm with him that you’d failed to achieve only hours prior.

Perhaps, like Danica had been suggesting, Jake’s fast-paced, cocky routine might have to wait for a slow dance first. Maybe you’d both be better off waltzing before grapevining, in case one of you twists an ankle or breaks a heart. 

Maybe he needs to appreciate the quiet things in life, if you’re willing to share them with him.

Your nose nestles into his neck at some point, and he feels your breath puff warm down the front of his shirt. Your arm is draped lazily over his shoulder now, not a grip but a presence all the same, your fingers ghosting feather-light over the nape of his neck. It tingles, gives him the urge to shudder but he doesn’t dare, not now that you’re sighing against him and swaying like you’re dancing at a ball animated by Disney.

He’s quiet, and so are you.

When the song ends you keep humming lazily against the collar of his shirt. It takes a solid ten seconds and the beginning of the next song to realize that you’re not harmonizing with anything anymore, and your eyes flutter open as you lift your head from his shoulder.

You’re close.

Very close. 

Your nose nearly brushes his chin, and when he angles his face subtly, almost imperceptibly downwards, your lips are on a crash course. It’s a perfect trajectory, a little down for him and a little up for you. But you’re frozen in time, your eyes locking onto his and getting lost in what they reveal.

There’s vulnerability swirling in both of your gazes, and it’s so striking to see that you’re each rendered speechless. There’s nothing to say, there’s nothing that could properly convey your feelings on what’s happening to you both, there’s only your eyes and his, and your interlocked hands.

Then Jake sees something eerily close to stone cold, sober fear flash through your stare, and you slowly detach yourself from him.

Your hand slips out of his own, you step backwards to free your waist from his grip, and your hand is no longer raking through the wispy hairs on the back of his neck.

You step away, one foot at a time, and stare at him with that almost-petrified gaze, your chest heaving visibly.

Then your face falls into something more neutral, and you back towards the elevators, “We should go.”

“Right.” Jake murmurs, following behind you with lead feet that would very much like to stay planted right where they were a minute ago, with yours stepping all over them. But he follows, because he thinks he might be magnetized to you, even if sometimes you’re oppositely charged.

The elevator ride is silent and awkward. The type of silence that you thought was gone between you and Jake, the thick, tense kind that you’d suffered for years up until just hours prior.

Despite having years of experience sitting in heavy silence with Jake, this bout makes him feel like a stranger compared to the man you’d just been slow dancing with.

You’re sobered now, from the shock of being a second away from kissing him, and from staring at the floor in the elevator until it had dinged and let you out on your cabin’s floor. It gives you enough hand-eye coordination to dig your keycard out of your pocket, and you push first into your room, Jake hesitantly, silently on your trail.

You duck into the bathroom to change and Jake doesn’t tease you like he did yesterday. He doesn’t try to break in once, which is a comforting thing, but your reality check had reminded you that eight years of irritation can’t be solved in a few hours worth of chivalry.

Still, you’d had fun tonight. And you’d felt safe, secure- happy in Jake’s company, comfortable with his arm around your waist and giddy when he’d held you in his lap by the railing. Are you caving? Are you doing the one thing you’d sworn only a day prior to not do? Are you giving in and letting him win?

That’s why you’d stopped yourself. In that moment, you’d wanted nothing more than to press your lips to his and let your fingers sink into his hair, let his hands grope at your waist. And it scared you. You’d wanted to cave, to give in, to betray yourself, and all of the fear that had been momentarily silenced by Danica’s token live advice roils fiercely in your gut like liquor has been all night.

If he’s trying to win, you can’t lose. And he’s doing a good job at convincing you he’s not trying to win anymore, but old habits die hard. How can you be sure he’s not?

You stuff yourself numbly into a nightgown, the most chaste one you’d brought, and you avoid meeting Jake’s eye when you step out of the bathroom.

You’re reminded now, standing barefoot in the walkway, that there’s only one bed. Last night had been a blur, and you hadn’t woken even when Jake had changed you into your nightclothes. You’re still mortified about that, really, and remembering that you’re going to have to crawl into bed beside Jake, who’s already there waiting for you, doesn’t help.

“Um,” You start, your voice dull, “I’ll take the couch.”

“What?” He asks, trying to tamp down some of the brashness that typically inhabits his tone, “That’s silly. There’s enough room for the both of us.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t. I’d better-” You try, and he kicks the covers off of himself, standing and revealing that he’s once again wearing nothing but boxers.

“No, I’ll take it.” He mumbles, not surly, just subdued, “You can have the bed.”

“No, that’s not- that’s not fair.” You finally look at him, your eyes wounded and guilty, “Just- you take the bed.”

“Only if you do.” He looks similarly defeated, standing there in just his underwear, “C’mon, Y/N. You know I won’t do anything to you.”

And even despite the hesitation that had clawed at your heart only minutes ago, puncturing your lungs and making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to stay, you do know that. Because it’s always been true of Jake; he’s cocky, but he’s not a monster. You knew it last night, and you know it tonight. So you cave, you give in, you betray yourself, and you trudge towards the side of the bed you’d been laid in last night.

You feel restless as Jake buries himself under the covers again, and you know sleep won’t come easy. So you keep yourself upright, lounging back on two pillows stacked behind your back and reaching for your book.

“Mind if I keep a light on?” You hum, and Jake shakes his head, peering at your book.

“Late-night reading?”

“Can’t sleep.” You admit, “I’m not even gonna try.”

He inhales- it’s an audible thing, not a gasp but a long, steadying breath. Then he lets it out, and you tug your book so close to your face that it obscures him from your vision.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He hums, his voice barely more than a whisper. You can’t see it, but he keeps himself turned towards you, studying the way your fingers twitch against the cover, wishing he could see the face obscured behind it.

You speak into the pages of your book, hoping your words get lost there, “Goodnight, Jake.”

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[peekofhistory]

Hi! Love your Tumblr! I'm fascinated by the fact that you are in China making and playing the Guqin, I was wondering if you can share a bit more about yourself and your background and why you decided to move to China? Like a self intro (that you're comfortable sharing). Thanks and have a nice day!!

Hello :D

How I ended up in Yangzhou learning to make/play the Guqin is a rollercoaster of a story xDD

As for my background, I was born in China (Beijing) and moved to the US when I was around 6 yrs old (my mom had moved several years earlier and I went to live with her). From the start my mom emphasized I can't forget I'm Chinese, because that's where I'm from and where my family's from, so she put in a lot of effort teaching me Chinese. She even had a colleague send over elementary school textbooks from China so she could teach me Chinese at home. She also got recordings of some Chinese TV shows and she'd watch them with me, explaining each episode and giving me information on that period of history.

Back then there weren't that many TV shows in China, and the ones we could access in the US were even less, so it was mostly classics shows like Journey to the West (1986), Dream of the Red Chamber (1987) and Romance of the Three Kingdoms (1994):

That really planted the root for my interest in Chinese history and culture. Especially in the case of Romance of the Three Kinggoms that was based on the actual Three Kingdoms period in Chinese history, it made me aware of how long China's history was and how rich and colourful it was, all the incredible historical figures, the battles of the past, the stories, etc.

Later on I also became interested in Chinese Opera (mainly Peking Opera, Huangmei Opera, and Shanghai Yue Opera):

We moved to Canada after a few years and stayed there until I graduated uni. I then went to Japan to work for a few yrs.

When I returned to Canada, it was 2018 and I found myself having to start all over career-wise. My experience in Japan really didn't help me at all when job hunting in Canada, and I ended up doing a few entry-level jobs in healthcare (office admin work). Then Covid and I lost my job, found another job about a year later, but still entry-level.

It was actually during the Covid break that I found out I could buy Hanfu fairly easily now. Throughout my time at uni and in Japan I didn't really check Chinese websites so I didn't know much about what was happening in China. During the Covid break, with nothing else to do at home, I found Taobao and realized the pretty clothes I adored in TV shows as a child I can now buy :D I went a bit crazy at first and ordered a whole bunch, but at the time I honestly didn't know too much about Hanfu aside from long robes, large sleeves, criss-crossed collars. But it was fun to wear them out (once lockdown ended) and actually feel like the characters I once saw on TV:

The job I had just before I came to China I actually really enjoyed, the work itself was fulfilling, the pay wasn't great but OK, and my co-workers for the most part were pretty good (my direct supervisor was great, I really, really enjoyed working with her). Unfortunately there was some changes to staffing in the office and the workload became really bad. I found myself literally having nightmares about work, and crying driving to and from work everyday. I decided I needed to quit. It was taking over my life 24/7, I was constantly tense and dreaded having to go to the office every morning.

At this point I'm in my late 30s and I took a few months to think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Either look for another regular office job that may or may not be better than the last, or try something completely different.

At the same time, I decided to take the chance to visit my family in China. Without a job, I could visit for a longer period of time (otherwise I could only get 2 wks paid vacation). I remember my mom mentioned during one of her visits to China she had met a master of woodblock printing (雕版印刷/diaoban yinshua). It was the first form of printing invented, they would carve out pages of text (or images), put ink over top, then print it onto paper:

This was even earlier than movable type printing (活字印刷/huozi yinshua) where each character was printed on a separate block so you could arrange them as needed:

This master's workshop took in apprentices and would offer free housing and food. After a certain amount of time, once the apprentices' work reached a certain level, they were even given a salary for their work.

I thought that sounded like a great plan. I didn't explicitly come to China with the goal of finding a place to do an apprenticeship, but I was aware this sort of opportunity was available, and it aligned with my interest in Chinese history and culture.

When I arrived in China last year I spent a few months visiting my dad and other family, before I ended up in Yangzhou.

There were some emotional ups and downs in between, I did find a woodblock printing master, I started to learn a bit with him, it didn't work out, etc., etc. But essentially I found myself in Yangzhou with nothing to do.

Yangzhou is quite famous for Guqin (there's an entire street here dedicated to selling Guqin...although it's a bit of a tourist trap ^^;;) , and I thought I could find a teacher to learn how to play the instrument at least. I had bought a Guqin years ago in Canada, but was always too busy/lazy to actually learn/practice it, but now being free everyday I decided I could do some sort of intense course. While scrolling through the Red Note app looking for Guqin teachers I came across a post of a teacher looking for students to learn how to make+play Guqin, with the option to live at the workshop and have housing and food covered:

And my eyes lit up.

That was how it all started :D

The biggest obstacle is honestly some family members. Growing up abroad, I've never really had a close relationship with any of my relatives in China. I've also never had to navigate the complicated family relations that Chinese families can sometimes have. If I were to go to any other country in the world to learn something, none of them would say anything, I don't think they'd even think about it, but because I'm in China a lot of them suddenly feel they need to express an opinion about my decisions, lol. Some don't like my interest in wearing Hanfu, some think I'm crazy learning something that "no one else these days is interested in", some think I'm immature/irresponsible not finding a 'regular' job and 'wasting' my time. Luckily, none of them live in Yangzhou so aside from a passive-aggressive text message/phone call once in awhile I can do my own thing 😁💖

[baronessvonglitter]

Code Blue

Javier Peña x Tim Rockford | WC: 2K

Summary: On a double date, Agent Javier Peña and Detective Tim Rockford are more interested in each other than in the bubbly blonde badge bunnies they're with.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut. Mentions of drinking alcohol. MLM. BJs. Deepthroating. Semi-public sex. Restroom sex. Pena goes commando - this is canon, duh. Spit as lube. Anal fingering. Anal sex. Protected sex. If this ain't your thing, keep scrolling.

A/n: This is for the Pedro Pascal Pride Challenge hosted by @mandaloriankait 💙thank you for putting together such a fun and inclusive challenge! I had another one in mind to add but I haven't had the time, hopefully I'll get to it soon 😊

This is my first go at mlm fiction! I've written ffm and mmf fics, but never just guy-on-guy and I have to admit, I had fun with this 😏

Here we are - the Holster and the Tac Vest.. I wanted to write a pairing that I personally haven't read before, so Tim and Javi P were a perfect fit, pun intended. If anyone has any Tim x Javi fic recs, please send 'em my way! ❤️

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

TIM ROCKFORD MASTERLIST

FULL MASTERLIST

Badge bunnies. That's what everyone calls them. They see a shiny law enforcement officer badge and get all wet and creamy for the man behind it. Tim Rockford has never really taken advantage of the charisma his status provides, even when a woman has been more than ready and willing. He's just not the type. He'd rather come home to a good woman, find her asleep on the couch waiting for him, their dog curled up at her feet.

But in a town like this a steady relationship is hard to come by. So he commits himself to his job and the very, very occasional fling.

Javier Peña was the one to convince him to go out. A DEA agent in town who was part of Rockford's new task force, Javier had a natural way with the ladies, out with a different one every night. Within a few weeks his exploits had become legendary among the rest of Tim's team. Now he's sitting across from the man, gritting his teeth as he glowers at Javier's perpetual smirk, his dark tousled hair, the aviators hanging on the front of his shirt which is already unbuttoned more than Tim would ever do. He can see the man's chest hair for crying out loud.

The woman sitting next to Javier is friends with the woman sitting next to Tim. You'd think they were sisters. Both blonde and bubbly, wearing too much lip gloss and too much hair product and way too much perfume. Tim has never known such flammable women.

"Rockford is the man in charge. Locally, at least," Peña says, raising his beer to the detective. "He's the hardass keeping us all in line."

"I hope not only his ass is hard," Tim's date giggles, her pink-taloned hands squeezing his bicep through his long-sleeve work shirt. He still has his suspenders on, despite Javier telling him to ditch them before they left the station.

Despite himself, Tim is more annoyed than intrigued. He shifts around in his seat, glancing around at the other bar-goers. His date pouts a little, looking to Javi as if he holds the answer. "It's okay, chiquita," he says softly, his thumb stroking her wrist. "Why don't you two angels go powder your noses?" he suggests, and he and Tim get out of their seats to let the women out.

Javi winks and waves at them before they disappear out of sight beneath the neon restrooms sign before his smile drops and his gaze hardens on Tim, still sulking in the booth across from him. "What the hell is your problem?" he hisses.

Tim snaps his head up, eyes narrowed and steely. "What the fuck are you talking about, Peña?"

"You! You're such a goddamn stick in the mud, acting like a pendejo when this beautiful woman is all over you, practically begging to ride your cock. What, you're not into women?"

"Fuck you." Tim's glare is lethal.

Javi mutters something like you wish and leans back in his seat. "Fine. If you want, I'll take them both home with me. Wouldn't be the first time. Just thought I'd share the wealth since you can't get any pussy on your own."

"I can get pussy any time I want," Tim counters, hands on the table as if he's getting ready to fight.

"Okay, man," Javi shrugs, calmly lighting up a cigarette, unaffected by his partner's ire, giving the ladies a smile as they return. "All prettied up for us, huh, dolls? How about another round of cherry margaritas?" He motions to the bartender.

"Gotta take a piss," Tim mutters, giving his date a tired smile as he gets up and heads towards the restrooms at the back.

He doesn't actually have to pee. He just splashes some water on his face, doing a mental countdown of how long he can get away with being in here. He leans over the sink, splashing more water onto the back of his neck, cooling his skin. He doesn't know how he started getting so hot.

Peña comes in, casting a casual glance over at the detective. "You good, man?" he asks, settling in front of a urinal and unzipping his jeans.

"Yeah," Rockford grunts, adding some soap and washing his hands. In the mirror he eyes the younger man, head bowed down as he stands at the urinal. Tim eyes up the man, checking out his broad shoulders, his narrow waist, and he swears he sees Peña's ass clench and unclench-

Shaking his head, Rockford turns off the faucet and heads for the motion-sensored hand dryer, which is taking longer to activate.

"You look pretty worked up," Peña says, washing his hands at the sink. "I could suck your cock for you."

Rockford hears the last part as if he's underwater. His mouth goes dry, heart pumping wildly. "What?"

Peña shrugs, finishing up at the sink and moving towards Rockford at the dryer. "If I suck your cock it might calm you down a bit." He gives the dryer a solid slap and it starts up.

"I'm not- I'm really not-" Tim backs away.

"Not what? Hard? Look down, my friend. You've been hard since I walked in."

Tim groans, not needing to look below his belt to know he's bricked up.

"It's just an offer," Peña says coolly. "I had a feeling you weren't digging that chica by your side tonight. Is that the reason you don't want to be here?" He walks Tim backward until he meets the wall and is effectively trapped. The younger man's smirk grows to a smile. "You were checking out my ass in the mirror, weren't you? And all night you've been eyeing me instead of the sweet piece of ass next to you. You think I don't know what kind of thoughts you have in mind?"

Rockford is speechless, staring at Peña's lips, licking his own as he imagines how they'd feel wrapped around his cock.

"You can tell me to leave," Peña offers. "Tell me to fuck off and I'll go, and we'll forget this ever happened."

This is a way out, a proposition to go back and just be work buddies again.

Instead, Rockford locks the door. "On your knees, agent," he says gruffly.

Peña's mouth fills with saliva as he eagerly unzips Rockford's pants and undoes the button, slowly revealing the detective's boxers: white with red hearts. "Just like the cartoons, eh?" Pena smirks.

"Shut.... up," he moans as the younger man palms him through the material.

"Dios mio," Peña mutters. "I thought I was pretty hung, but you're huge."

"Think you can take it all?" Rockford rasps.

"I guess we'll find out." Peña peels down the underwear and lets Tim's cock free, his girthy length bobbing up, the tip flushed red and already leaking precum. Javi's tongue laps up the pearly bead and grins when he hears Tim groan. "Ever had your cock sucked by another man?" he asks.

"None of your business," Tim grunts. "Put your mouth to work."

Peña complies, giving the crown a languorous lick and enjoying the detective's needy groan. He spits on Tim's rod, using his hand to stroke it to full hardness before descending his lips on Rockford again. Tim sighs, placing his hand on the back of Javi's head and Javi fondles his balls, looking up to see Rockford react. They're already big and swollen. Javi's sure to get a good, thick load out of them.

He spits on it, giving Tim's dick a few tugs, feeling him pulse and twitch in his hand. Javi's tongue caresses the length of it, from base to tip, tongue circling the crown again, teasing, wiggling his tongue into the slit at the top. Rockford groans, his blood on fire as he urges the younger man forward. His breath catches in his throat when Javi's lips wrap around him, taking him into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks.

"Just like that," Tim rasps. "Didn't know you were such a pro.."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Peña wears a shit-eating grin as he gives the older man's balls a light squeeze before taking him into his throat, all the way back deep, and Tim nearly blows his load when Javi gags on it. Though his eyes water, he holds onto Tim's thighs, covering his cock in thick saliva. He gives a pitiful moan as Tim's large hand presses on the back of his head, keeping him there.

Peña takes a big gulp of air when Tim finally releases him. His eyes are lust-glazed and dark as he meets the detective's similarly lecherous gaze. "I bet you don't have it in you to fuck me.."

Rockford bends Peña over the sink, turning the agent's head to give a sloppy kiss as he shoves the younger man's jeans down. He raises his brow when he sees that Javi goes commando.

"I don't like restriction," Peña says coolly. Tim grabs a handful of his bare asscheek and smacks it. "I think you just wanted to make it easier for me," he huffs in his ear.

"Grab the condom, it's in my front pocket," Javi tells him, and Rockford finds it, places it on the sink edge. He lubes up his fingers with spit and traces the rim of Peña's ass, watching the agent's face in the mirror. "Damn, you're tight.. and hot," he mutters.

"More," Peña moans, bracing the sink, biceps bulging with the effort. Tim obliges him, stuffing a second thick finger into Javi's anus. Javi bites his lip, letting out a sighing grunt.

"Need more than this?" Rockford mutters, nipping Peña's earlobe with his teeth.

"I can handle it.. can you?" The agent smirks at him in the mirror. In return Rockford pistons his hand, fingering him harder. "I'll give you more, god damn it."

He grabs the condom and rips it open, sheathes his cock with it before teasing it at Javi's ass. Javi's already spitting into his palm and jerking off, his face pink with exertion and anticipation. Tim lands another glob of spit right on Peña's ass and nudges in smoothly, pressing his forearm down on Javi's back as he bottoms out. They both gasp in relief and pleasure.

He moves slow at first, savoring the way Peña's hole tightens around him, sucking him in. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?" Javi's telling him, jaw hung open as he gets stuffed. "You've been thinking about it the past few weeks."

"Jesus. Anyone ever tell you you're a mouthy bottom?" Tim grunts, grabbing hold of Peña's hips and thrusting in deep, smirking when the younger man loses his words, just moans, gripping the sink harder.

The sound of Tim's balls thwacking against the backs of Javi's thighs is resounding in the small room, punctuated by their groans and sighs and muttered curses. Javi's stroking himself in time with Tim's thrusts, ready to spill.

Tim pulls Javi close as he comes, hips stuttering then stilling. Javi wastes no time as soon as Tim disengages, getting rid of the condom. "My turn, detective," he says, and Rockford goes on his knees to finish him off.

It's sloppy work, nothing like the precise and thoughtful steps he takes in his work. Rockford is all tongue and spit, barely intelligible, begging for Peña's come. Peña grabs his hair, pulling him roughly against him. His pubic hairs tickle Tim's nose as he keeps him there, a small taste of his own medicine from earlier. He thrusts in roughly a few times, throat fucking him until he comes, his hot white spend shooting into the detective's mouth.

"Oh shit, they're gone." Javi states the obvious as they emerge from the men's room, cleaned up but still a little disheveled.

"Oh no." Tim's voice is flat, relief flooding his veins.

"Think we should find out where they went?"

"Nah.. badge bunnies come and badge bunnies go." Peña leans against the bar, lighting a cigarette as he settles the bill. "Wanna come back to my place?"

"What do you think?" Tim grants him a quick wink before they leave.

taglist: @sunshinehaze1 @604to647 @cxrsed-angel @joelmillerswife9

@tateypots @bergamote-catsandbooks @whoaitspascal

@milla-frenchy @captainredspade @timpletance @inept-the-magnificent

@platinumblondeedition @loveisacowboyyy @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

@bunniboo0015 @girlboss30004 @vindictivegranny

@jaeisd-blog

[zeondraws]

Making another post about the AMA, as a few questions couldn't be answered on the reddit post before it was closed. Some of the answers were send to the Secret Mode server instead.

So I am listing them all in this post, so I can use it for the wiki. I also asked a few additional questions about Alex, (for example, we were confused if we had two Alex on the rig because of the Alex P. signature. But turns out, Alex Cranstoun is the same Alex who talks to Sunil).

Lead Narrative Sagar: "His full name is Stuart Gibson"

Lead Design Jade & Lead Narrative Sagar - "Spot on, this was definitely our goal!"

Lead Narrative Sagar: "Wait, we completely agree: Billy Chamberlain is DEFINITELY very important! He's the inciting reason for Caz's presence on the Beira D to begin with! Yeah, we have a sense of what sort of person he is, and what happened that fateful evening at the pub in Glasgow. But nothing more we can share here, I'm afraid..."

Lead Narrative Sagar: "Haha! This is the first name of a very important member of the crew. Check out the answers I gave to roses-in-the-abyss and to Icy_Piglet4732"

Lead Narrative Sagar: "Thanks for asking this. It had to do with the overall arc of Mhairi's story. Mhairi, for us, works really well as a foil to Caz. She has more information, plans more, and most importantly, chooses to go into a dangerous situation. True, she doesn't know quite how dangerous it's going to be. But it's a far cry from Caz, who never expected to be running around like mad on a sinking oil rig, and is equipped just with a screwdriver. His final action is exactly what he has grown to be capable of doing. By contrast, no one asked Mhairi to go to the bottom of the North Sea and disturb what was there. She chose to. The most straightforward thing to do, narratively, is to make her pay for that choice, maybe with the ultimate sacrifice. But we wanted to reflect the greater agency Mhairi has a character to do a bit more, and ask the player what they think makes sense for their version of Mhairi. After all, even the game itself opens up a bit more: your version of Mhairi might be more exploratory and less resolute than another, or vice versa. We don't branch very widely in this story, just at the end, so it's not too hard to keep the various realities in our heads simultaneously. It would be a different design challenge if the game were built around branching. Thanks for your question!" Lead Design Jade: "On SWTD we wanted to tell a story about a person who was always running finally deciding to do what's right for his family. A choice would have not given the experience we wanted. But Mhairi has a choice because I think we all deal with grief in a different way. When someone dies you can feel guilty about letting go of that sadness because it feels scary when you built yourself around it. Ultimately you can either let it consume you or let it go and I love that we managed to talk about it in such a way. I think in our mind both ending are open enough that we can do different things with them if we decide to."

Who is Alex/what is his backstory, and what's his surname? (Lo-Honko is my reddit name)

From Sagar: Lo-Honko's questions were quite fun to respond to. But this specific question (the 5th) was ambiguous. There isn't just one body in those two locations: there are two, one in each named spot. In my answer, I only responded to what I thought was being referred to in the second one, later on in the pipe maze, the body with the lighter. But let me expand on both bodies, because I think the first at least has some cool implications about events we never get to see. Once you're down at 237 metres, you get into Mud Pits. (That's the "giant room, split by a fence", as Rob says.) If you make your way through a pipe at the top of the room, you can snake your way into a smaller room, called Mud Handling. That's the one that has a dartboard and also something that looks like a body, buried under some rubble... but also bizarrely with a seeming cross / grave marker? Now that is a weird and confusing thing... is it a legit grave marker? What the hell? This is actually one of the oddest things Mhairi has found to date. It's what leads her, uncharacteristically, to trip over her words. "I-I don't know... body," Mhairi says. Because she can see something Rob can't. It's not just a body. It's a body with debris that seems to have fallen (or been placed!) in the shape of a grave marker. Who would have done that? Presumably the collapse of the rig was an emergency. Who would've had the time, and if they did, why do it in that location? Doesn't seem to be someone in their right mind, and moreover, it'd have to be someone (or some thing) that could have survived such an emergency, present in Engineering and full of confused emotions. --------------------------

The second body (the one holding the lighter in the pipe maze) after you listen to the second data logger recording is Alex Cranstoun. I expanded on this in the AMA and how he got ahold of Finlay's lighter. Alex worked hard on the rig, and he was seen in the first game working with Sunil. He works on the Deck and is always fixing something or trying to keep the rig from falling apart. We get a hint way back when Mhairi discovers the Ganpati murti of just how heavily Sunil's loss was felt, but we don't discover too much about Alex. In fact, Mhairi's quite confused by this body too, even about how it possibly has arrived into the vent. How horrific, if this person died, trapped in the vent. Alex was no less loved by his mates. He was a particularly close co-worker with Sunil. In fact, we see the two of them talking together very early in Still Wakes the Deep. Work on a rig can be very uncompromising and very busy. But there can also be a lot of dead time. You have to make your own entertainment. Sunil, Alex, Archie, and Gregor would sometimes have competitions around who could grow the most luxurious facial hair. Let's just say that Alex did not win this competition... He was determined to get his revenge on Sunil during the darts tournament, and even this did not go his way. Though as a consolation, Alex did manage to win Finlay's lighter off her late in the darts tournament, after everyone was deep in their cups. When the disaster began, and the leccy went out, that lighter was what Alex used to navigate for a little bit while he was running for safety. But it barely lasted a few minutes, before plunging him into darkness. And as the rig listed, Alex tragically tripped and fell into a vent, a slow and tragic end for someone who deserved better.

And for context, this was Lo-Honko's question from the AMA.

"Does the guy from the vents and mudpits have a name? Who is this person Finlay lend her lighter to?"

-

-

Thanks to Liam from Secret Mode for forwarding the Alex questions!!

This is super interesting, this is gonna take a while to put into the wiki. But today I am editing Alex and Archie (I deleted the Cranstoun page and will delete the Dunbar page later, don't touch it!)

I find it important to have sources because some people will think you lie and edit something and claim it's a headcanon. I had to re-edit a page because someone claimed the father-son relationship between Muir and Innes was a headcanon (because of the new memento). I think the person means no harm, but I figured I mention this.

Double check before you edit something, because if you don't have a source for example, you may spread wrong information.

[salmoninnit]

Wish You Stayed

ex!satoru gojo x reader x crush?!choso kamo pt. 1 - pt. 2

The sound of your phone buzzing awoke you from your sleep, with a groan you reach for it and open your eyes slightly. 

Satoru: Morning, you fell asleep in the car and wouldn’t wake up. I brought you upstairs and made sure to lock up before leaving. I left some alka-seltzer pills that are on your bedside table. Feel better

Same old Satoru as he was before, caring and considerate towards you even after not speaking for years. A part of you wanted to see this as a good thing but another part felt like you can’t just go back. People change in 3 years, you’ve changed in 3 years.

Nothing ever can be the same, it can only get better or worse. 

A part of you from last night wanted to see how things played out with Choso while another part of you wanted to run back to Satoru. 

You: morning, thank you for bringing me up and for the tablets. my head is pounding

He instantly replied to your message.

Satoru: Yea of course, need anything else to feel better?

You bit your lip, you wanted to ask for something just to see him. But you knew better to do that to yourself. Him being here, taking care of you? It was asking to become putty in his hands and with how shitty you feel, it’d work and rewire everything. 

You: no ill be fine! thank you for offering :) Satoru: Okay, just let me know if you do

You thumbs up the message and toss your phone on the bed. It was 10 am and thankfully you didn’t have plans. You reluctantly got up and grabbed the tablets he left for you. Letting them sizzle in the water as you go to the bathroom. 

Splashing water in your face after you freshened up felt like falling into a cold pool. You shivered as you patted your face dry. Heading back to your room you drank the water. Feeling a little less groggy as you climbed back into bed. Playing some random youtube video and laying down. 

You don’t know how long it took but you were again awoken by a buzzing from your phone. Sighing you flip it over and see it’s 2 pm and the buzzing was now a text from a random number. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey it’s Choso. did you make it home safe last night? 

A flutter appeared in your stomach as you smiled. Adding his contact and replying back. 

You: hey! yea i did, a friend dropped me off. i drank so much, im suffering the consequences of my own actions Choso: i’m glad to hear you made it safe. how much did you end up drinking for you to feel that bad?  You: i lost count after my fourth round of shots and 3 drinks deep tbh Choso: one hell of a reunion for you and your friends huh?

You giggled as you tried to recount how many drinks you actually had. Kento’s beer, a mojito, two drinks with Choso, 2 shots, another mojito, another shot, another mojito, and maybe 3 other shots? No way you drank that much, your bank account shall suffer and you shall not check it. 

You: yea it was. i’ve seen most of them except one throughout these past three years and so this was the first time we were all together since highschool Choso: that’s nice, im glad you had fun. I had fun with you last night 

You feel your cheeks warm as you giggle. It really was nice talking to him, it was easy and he was kind but also intimidating. He was tall and built, probably not as tall as Suguru or Satoru. But his build definitely matched similar to theirs. 

You: i did too, would definitely take you up on that date you mentioned :P Choso: are you available tomorrow? 5 pm?  You: yea! what is the setting? how should i dress? Choso: anything you want, you’ll be pretty and fit in anywhere i have planned :) You: okay then, i’ll see you then :)

He hearts your message and you send your address to him. 

Either that alka-seltzer put in the work or the idea of a date with Choso made you feel so much better. 

You sigh as you look up at the ceiling, this was just the start of whatever will be your next few months of whatever the fuck is happening with Satoru and Choso. After 3 years of nothing romantic, all of a sudden two men appear. Even though Satoru hasn’t explicitly said he wants you (you saw him once, maybe you are a bit delusional), there was a feeling in your gut that said he does. The stares, the way he talks a bit quieter when he speaks to you, and the way he just is the old him when you were together. Less brash and nowhere near as affectionate (for obvious reasons), he still looked at you the same way he did before. 

You don’t know if he ever stopped looking at you that way, even when breaking up. Yea it was on mutual terms but the look in his eyes as you agreed to it, held every emotion he still carried for you. 

And he still carried that look in his eyes 3 years later. 

A part of you yearned for it, wish you spoke to him sooner. But you didn’t dare to reach out and neither did he. So what was the point? Still being in love with your high school sweetheart, mutual affection both ways but at the same time, you both loved old versions of each other. 

What if we changed so drastically and once found out, it wasn’t there? Would there be a point in bringing up old emotions from a previous time? From previous versions of you?

You didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it much longer.

So you let the day move on, eating and resting. The alcohol killed you but at least you hadn’t thrown up. Pretty sure the alka-seltzer really did work overtime for you. 

Lounging on your couch at 8 pm, playing a tv show and laying on your side. A knock on your door echoed through the apartment as you lowered the volume of the tv. You made your way to the door and looked through the peephole. On the other side stood Satoru, wearing a hoodie with digimon character and jeans. Your heart did a small flip as you opened the door. 

“Hey”, you said with a smile. 

“Hey, sorry for showing up like this. Wasn’t sure if you had eaten and was in the area. So I got you your favorite - or old favorite pho”, Satoru said as he held up a bag from your favorite spot. 

“It’s okay, thank you. Come in”, you say as you move aside for him to walk in. He takes off his shoes and makes his way to the table. He starts taking out the pho containers and setting them up, then he sits casually in the chair just like he used to before, like it was second nature for him.  

You shut the door and make your way to the fridge, grabbing two sodas, one coke and one dr pepper. Proceeding to the table as you sat across from him, placing the coke in front of him and grabbing your portion of the food. 

“I got you the same as before, hope you didn’t switch that”, he laughed as he opened his container. Popping the top part out and dumping it onto the noodles. Then filling the container with broth. You followed suit and let the noodles soften. 

“You know you didn’t have to do this right?”, you say as you look at him. He’s adorning a smile and now you take notice he isn’t wearing his glasses. His eyes are set on you and speaking a million words. 

“I know but it felt like a nice thing to do, plus I haven’t seen you in ages. Thought it’d be nice to just hang out”, he says as he looks down at his soup. Satoru had debated this for hours since the morning. He was hoping you’d tell him you need something, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat to see you again. Even though he doesn’t feel like he has that right anymore, he was willing to do anything to make it be his right again. 

“This is nice, I honestly was craving this after my shitty excuse for food earlier. Made a burnt grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup from a can”, you laugh as you stir your noodles around, breaking them from their mold of a circle. 

“You could’ve asked, I told you just to let me know”, he says softly as he mimics your actions with the soup. He cracks open his drink and takes a sip from it. “Still remember my likes, like I remember yours”.

“Well hard to forget when we ate and drank much of the same things back then”, you laugh and start eating your pho. 

“Fair enough, it’s like it’s embedded into my brain”, Satoru says as he starts eating. 

You fell into a silence of eating and the only thing being heard was the tv and you two eating. It felt domestic, it felt like it did before. The time changed and yet you’re still here, sitting across each other in the same way, eating the same foods you two would get, and being comfortable with each other. 

As you were finishing your pho, your phone rang on the table. You glanced at it and saw Choso’s name at the top. You inhaled and grabbed it quickly. 

“Sorry I’ll be right back”, you say as you get up and make your way to your room. 

“Hey!”, you exclaim as you make your way into your room. 

Satoru’s ears perked up at how happy you sounded. He had seen the name on your phone and by your reaction, it had to be the guy from last night. With a small groan he threw his head back. Competition wasn’t new for him, he’s always been competitive and good - no great - at everything he did. But he had never dealt with competition when it came to you. 

Having met on your first days of highschool, you two were both nerds. Relating on interests and hobbies, staying up waiting on drop dates for games or going out and buying ridiculous anime items. It was natural for you two to end up liking each other, even your friends saw it before you two did. They bet on how long it’d take for someone to make a move, it wasn’t until before the ending of freshman year that anything was said to one another. 

He confessed first like a lovesick puppy, he had seen you get hit on by some guy in another class. It was the first time he saw you blush at anyone other than him. He felt a sickening feeling in his stomach, at the thought of losing you, at the thought of you being with someone else.

And that’s when he realized he had liked you. He had rushed over to you and told you some lie to pull you away from the guy. He had dragged you outside to where you two would hangout after school with your friends but usually after they left, you two would linger there. 

“I need to tell you something”, he said nervously as he balled his hands into fists. 

“Okay what is it ‘Toru?”, you spoke lightly with a tilt of your head. Eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at him. 

“I-I like you. I don’t know how long I’ve liked you for and maybe it was the first time you smiled at me. O-Or when you gave me my keychain for my phone, or when you laughed at my joke the first week of class. Maybe I’ve liked you from the moment I got to know you. But I just know I like you. More than anyone else, more than my favorite digimon character”, he utters as he averts your gaze. 

You had stood there in awe, shock, and pure bliss. 

“Toru…I like you too. I didn’t think you’d like me back but looking back I might be a bit stupid from not realizing it”, you laugh as he shot his head back to look at you. You were looking down as he stared wide eyed. He didn’t think you’d reject him but at the same time he didn’t think you really did like him.

“Oh..I-I honestly don’t know why I didn’t think you’d like me too. Maybe we're both a little stupid here”, he laughs as he reaches for your hands, embracing them with both of his. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You gaze up at him with a saccharine smile, eyes crinkling from how genuine it is. “Really?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Yes really stupid. I think if you don’t answer I’ll bury myself 6 feet under”.

“Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend Satoru”, you giggle as you pull your hands away from his and hug him. He reflexively wrapped his arms around you and picked you up with a spin. You laugh out and so does he. 

Shoko won the bet, she had said you’d two be together before the end of the school year. Kento and Yu had bet you’d get together by the beginning of the next semester. While Suguru thought it’s take another year for you two to even realize it by how stupid you both were to each others yearning. 

Satoru sighs as he replays the memory, he thinks about it far too often. Having replayed every detail from that day, the days before and after. His biggest regret was breaking up with you before college. You hadn’t grown apart, it was all the same but you both wanted to focus on college. He proposed the idea after seeing all the time he’d have with school and the family business, he didn’t find it fair to you to be unavailable constantly. It hurt him to even bring it up, to even think about it. 

But you understood, you wanted the both of you to be successful in your own ways. It crossed your mind but you never voiced it. When he brought it up, you wanted to say it’d be fine and you’d understand his time away. But you knew, it would ruin you two. The lack of seeing each other and affection you both couldn’t 100% show. Would make you two grow to resent it and resent each other for not trying harder. 

So you agreed. The no contact was to not be distracted, neither of you saw each other as distractions, but you both knew it’d turn into it. So there was no fighting, no lashing out; just acceptance. It killed you both and even 3 years later, after graduating and working, you both felt the same way for one another as you did then. 

Satoru tried to move on, tried to meet new people, tried to forget about you but everyone he met wasn't you. Everyone was shallow with no true personality, you were the only one he’d met that fit him like a puzzle. So he stopped trying, he’d get hit on but turn them down. 

Now watching you get excited over someone else was killing him. He wishes he’d come around sooner, yea you met this Choso guy last night but the way you had looked at him when you had talked to him in the bar, Satoru had only seen you look at him that way. 

He knew from Suguru that you hadn’t been with anyone else since him. He reveled in the fact that you hadn’t moved on from him.

As if you’d ever truly be able to move on from one another.

But this factor of running into someone who clicked with you like he once had, had him nervous. Had him on the brink of begging you to be with him. But he couldn’t.

It wouldn’t work, maybe before, back then it would’ve. But he can tell you changed, you’re not as you were before. Not lovesick for him like he was for you. 

He might be too late but that won’t stop him from trying. 

<<previous : next>>

so guess this is my first series on here, not sure if it'll be long or short but lets see how ill do

[chanceofwhat]

The follow-up, where Ford decides to be a scientist (and an annoying little shit). @aroace-get-out-of-my-face thank you once again for blessing us with this au.

Stan’s working on pancakes, Ford’s attempting bacon. Except, that’s not really why they’re both in the kitchen, and Ford didn’t really just want them to cook together “for fun”. No, this is about to be a test.

“Um, Stanley?”

Stan turns, then yelps when he sees the whoosh of flame from the pan on the stove.

“What the hell, Ford?! Put it out!”

“You put it out!”

Incredulous isn’t profound enough to describe the look Stan gives his brother.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the magic one!”

“You can do magic too, you’ve proven that! You’re perfectly capable of putting this out!”

“Are you seriously arguing with me while there’s a fire next to you?! Either put it out or get away from it!”

Ford looks his brother in the eyes and takes one large step back. Stan growls.

“You want it out?” Stan grabs a potholder, grabs the pan by the handle, and places it in the empty side of the sink. Now it’s on fire in a different, slightly safer location. “Fine. You got a damn fire extinguisher?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What, you want me to pour water on it? It’s a goddamn grease fire!”

“I want you to put it out with magic, Stanley!”

When the edge of the curtain catches fire, the house promptly opens the window, sending in a gust of wind that puts out the curtain and dims the fire down to a pathetic smolder. Stan picks up the pan again and, glaring at his brother, blows it out like a candle. Ford huffs.

“Alright, Sixer; get outta the kitchen.”

Maybe, Ford decides, it needs to be more imminent, more immediate, more reflexive.

That’s his justification when his brother is sitting innocently in the armchair and Ford, entering the room sneakily from behind, hovers a book directly over his head. He drops it.

“Ow!”

Stan’s hand flies to his head as he whips around,

“What was that for?!”

Ford winces a bit, but doesn’t back down,

“I wanted to see if you’d deflect it.”

“How could I ‘deflect it’ if I didn’t even know you were doin’ it?”

“Magic, obviously.”

Stan scoffs and sits right back down in his chair, arm over his head like an umbrella.

“Asshole.” He mutters. Ford scowls and raises another one. Drops it. It bounces off of Stan’s arm.

“Ow.” Stan’s voice is much more deadpan, this time. Simply unamused.

With a frustrated sound that might as well be a snarl, Ford storms around into his brother’s line of sight and raises yet a third book into his hand,

“You’re not even trying!”

“Yea, I never said I would!”

“Well, try!”

Ford hurls the book at him. It goes wide. Stanley jumps to his feet, angry and amused,

“Ya missed.”

“I noticed!”

Another book. This time, Ford mumbles himself an incantation for guided aim. He sees and feels the spark of it working as he throws the book, this one harder than the last, aimed directly for Stan’s forehead— wait, maybe he shouldn’t have done that, that’s probably going to hurt—

In a redirection of motion that you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it, the book turns in the air and flies right by Stan’s head. Stan grins wide,

“Missed again.”

Ford makes a triumphant noise and points,

“Ha! You deflected it!”

“What?” Stan snorts, “No, ya just missed.”

“No, you deflected it, I saw.”

“No way, poindexter.”

“I used a spell to guide my aim, Stanley; that was going to hit you and you deflected it!”

“You used a spell and still missed?” Stan crosses his arms annoyingly, “Wow, I knew you had bad aim, but that’s impressive.”

“I didn’t miss! You deflected it!”

They argue like children for nearly an hour.

“Shit!”

Ford grabs his arm and shoves at the space around the fun new gemstone artifact he found— a ruby carved into a knickknack of a donkey. It slides a few feet away across the floor under his command. The sizzling slash on his arm starts bleeding anyways. He clamps his hand over it.

Right. Where are the healing bandages?

On his search, he passes through the living area and pauses. Stanley’s sitting on the armchair, looking up at him with a quirked eyebrow,

“Uh… you good, there, Sixer?”

An opportunity. Ford chuckles, then winces at another throb of pain from his arm,

“A magical investigation of mine hasn’t quite gone as planned.” He takes a few steps closer to Stan, who sits up as he seems to spot the blood dripping down Ford’s forearm. Stan then flinches and blinks when Ford’s arm is suddenly held out in front of him, injury brandished almost teasingly,

“Would you mind attempting some healing magic?”

Stan blinks a few more times, looking between Ford’s injury and his face like Ford’s going insane,

“Seriously? Me? Can’t you do it yourself?”

“Healing is notoriously difficult to perform on the self. Come on— if you’d like, I can find you the appropriate spell in my journal.”

Ford whips out his journal. It hovers in the air between them, flipping through pages until Ford finds the right one and turns it to face Stanley. A healing spell, complete with rune and incantation, is displayed in front of him. Stan’s nose scrunches up as he squints at it,

“Sixer, I, uh… I mean, I agree you should teach me this shit at some point, but right now? I don’t know how to do this, and you’re bleeding. Like, a lot.”

Ah, so he is. Well, that’s fine, he can stand it for another few minutes.

“Come on, Stanley— it’s not as though you’ve never performed healing magic before.” He ignores Stan’s uncomfortable grimace at the reminder, “At least try.”

“Alright, alright, fine.”

With a roll of his eyes, Stan squints at the page again,

“Fuck your rune, that never does shit for me. Uh… Cone-acker on a sandy, uh—“

“Coniuna-caro nodsanguis proplendiqum, Stanley.”

“Propane-dick? Nice.”

“Proplendiqum.” Ford seethes.

Stan rolls his eyes and, not thinking or trying half as hard on the next try, pronounces almost everything correctly. His hand hovers over the wound and creates a few gold sparkles. For a moment, the decrease in pain makes Ford think Stan’s actually done it, but no; when he looks at his arm, the wound looks pretty much the same.

“Doesn’t look like it worked.”

Ford frowns,

“It helped with the pain, at least. That’s something. Go on, try again.”

“Ford. It ain’t gonna happen. Quit wasting time and go use your magic stuff on it.”

With a defeated sigh, Ford sets his journal on the side table and turns around. If it weren’t for the concerning rate of this blood loss, he’d be much more insistent, but… he really ought to fix this.

He fetches his medical kit from a kitchen cabinet. Opens it.

Oh.

The roll of healing bandages is all but empty. The a tattered strip left could heal, at best, a bad paper cut.

How had he managed to forget that?

He grabs the roll of regular bandages and returns to Stan somewhat sheepishly, not quite thinking straight anymore— yep, he’s getting a bit lightheaded now. It doesn’t help that he’s been performing magical investigations all afternoon.

“Got your magic healing stuff now?” Stan asks without looking.

“We’re out of healing bandages.”

Ford’s voice is so blunt, so deadpan that Stan’s head whips towards him on a swivel,

“What, seriously? Buddy, that’s gonna need stitches, then.”

Ford scowls and rolls his eyes,

“Absolutely not. No, I just need to stop the bleeding—“

“You mean like stitches do?”

Stan’s interruption is bored and unamused and Ford doesn’t even pause,

“—or at least slow it down enough that I can heal it myself. Unless you’d like to try again?”

Stan rises out of the armchair and practically drags his brother into it, seeing the man’s face get pale and watching his weight wobble back and forth unsteadily,

“Not really. I thought you said healing yourself is too hard?”

“It’s extremely difficult and inefficient, but possible, and I really just need to heal it enough that I won’t bleed out.”

“Well, tell me when and I’ll bandage it up.” Stan sighs, pulling the second, far less comfortable chair nearer so he can fret over his brother properly. “Or I can stitch it, if ya want; that’ll hurt like hell, though.”

Ford huffs laughter,

“No thanks.”

He looks at the journal, draws the rune in the air over his injured arm,

…and immediately gets tunnel vision so bad he almost passes out. He releases the rune with a deep gasp for air, and Stan tenses his grip on the arm of the chair,

“You okay?”

“Fine, just…” Deep breath. “If you’re not willing to try healing again, go get my glucose tablets from the kitchen. This will take more magical energy than I have available to me at the moment.”

Stan mutters and grumbles and Ford closes his eyes to focus on breathing. He’s so focused he doesn’t even hear Stan get up.

Or, he doesn’t hear it because Stan doesn’t get up. With some very dissatisfied grumbling, Stan grabs Ford’s arm and twists the journal to face him.

“Coniunacaro nodsanguis proplendiqum.“

Ford pries his eyes open just in time to see the golden glow around his arm, Stan’s eyes screwed shut with focus, one hand with a firm grip just below the injury and the other hovering over it. Ford watches the skin knit itself back together— not completely, not perfectly, but more than enough. More than he would’ve been able to do for himself right now, even with his glucose tablets.

When Stan’s eyes open again to look over the semi-healed wound, he humphs with what sounds like amusement, then looks at the roll of regular bandages and rises from his seat,

“Ya didn’t even grab disinfectant, dipshit.”

Ford’s too impressed, confused, and lightheaded to comment the entire time that Stan’s cleaning and bandaging his arm. He eventually passes out watching something meaningless on the TV. He doesn’t even remember to say “thank you.”

Based off of this short by @someoddwritings for @aroace-get-out-of-my-face ‘s Safety Alarm AU

(Basically, magic user Ford dies and Stan goes nope and resurrects him.) (read their thing first though it’s really good and makes this read better)

“So,” Ford eventually has to ask, “how did you do it?”

Stan blinks at him from the armchair. It’s late, he’s still tired from the incident, and he was expecting they’d go to bed soon. Instead, now Ford’s talking, and his tone sounds like he’s trying too hard to keep it light.

“Do what?” is the first thing Stan’s brain offers, because how could he possibly know something Ford doesn’t know?

“Don’t be obtuse, Stanley.” Ford rolls his eyes, “How did you resurrect me? Did you memorize a spell beforehand? Did you even use an incantation?”

Oh, this. Of course. Stan shrugs,

“Nah. Actually, I’ve got no idea what happened there. I just sorta… focused. I’m thinkin’ it was probably easier because you do so much magic stuff, so I figure you had a bunch of magic in you already or something.”

Ford furrows his brow,

“That’s not really how that works, Stanley.”

“Well, clearly it is, ‘cause you’re here.”

“Yes. I’m here. Because you brought me back to life.”

Stan makes a dismissive “eh” sound and shrugs again. Ford fully does a double take,

“‘Eh’?! What do you mean ‘eh’?! You resurrected me! It took you less than a minute! I was dead, Stanley—“

Stan winces at the word,

“Can we stop talkin’ about that? I don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

“No,” Ford feels himself get louder as he grows increasingly agitated, “I need you to understand the magnitude of what you accomplished! You performed a true resurrection in under a minute without—“

“Shut up!”

Ford’s loud confusion quiets as Stan begins to shout,

“I know you were dead, so stop fucking saying it! I saw your head cracked in half, I saw your ribs crushed into little bits, I saw your heart smushed flat, I KNOW. And I’m not lookin’ forward to sleepin’ tonight because I’ve been seein’ it all again every time I close my eyes. I’m probably gonna have nightmares about that forever, and I’ve got no fucking idea how I fixed it!”

Stan slumps further into the plush chair, looking miserable,

“I don’t know how I fixed it, and I don’t know if I could ever do anything like that again. I barely even remember doing it. I just know I saw you and… you couldn’t be dead. It was wrong. I remember thinking it just had to be fixed and you couldn’t exactly do it so I had to fix it and my hands felt funny and I got all dizzy and then you were back, so I was done, and that was that.”

Ford looks at his face exhausted brother sympathetically. He gets it— he still thinks too often about the state he found Stanley in originally, tied up and dying of heatstroke in the trunk of his own car. He remembers the magic he performed to bring his dying brother to him, the surge of energy that his determination brought; that’s something he knows about magic, it feeds on passion and intensity, it works better the more you want it.

Yet, some selfish part of Ford can’t stop thinking about how much work it was for him. The locator spell, the teleportation— both with incantations and specific methods that called upon his expertise— finding his brother within the car, cooling him down, not having enough magic left to bring him into the house with anything but his tired muscles, and that’s not even considering the safety alarm itself—

And Stanley hadn’t even been dead.

It took time after all that for Stanley to recover, and Stanley hadn’t even been dead. Ford died today, and all he has to show for it is a twinge in his back and his legs from how he was awkwardly forced to the ground when the boulder landed on his upper half. When he awoke 36 seconds after his own death, he didn’t even have a headache.

He wants to tell his brother how impressed he is, how incredible such a controlled, intent-based display of magic is. He wants to shout and throw something because how could anyone perform something as complex as a true resurrection without the proper use of spells or incantations, it’s a flippant dismissal, even an offense, to everything he thinks he knows about magic.

Between the incredibly loud, emotionally intense warring sides in Ford’s head, his voice comes out calm and gentle,

“I can prevent nightmares, if that would help.”

Stan looks at him. Ford offers a small, tired smile,

“I know a spell that induces dreamless sleep. I’ve used it on myself before. I can use it on you, if you’d like.”

Stan nods, a small movement.

“That would be nice.”

Ford nods in return.

“Let’s go to bed, then. I think we’ve both had enough excitement for one day.”

When they walk down the hall to what Ford expects to be the guest room only to find Ford’s own room, extended a few extra feet with an extra bed in it, Ford can’t bring himself to argue. Especially not with how grateful Stan looks.

He all but tucks Stan in, using what little magic he has available this evening to ensure him a dreamless sleep and help him drift into it. When Stan conks out, he brushes a strand of hair out of the peaceful, sleeping face before putting himself to bed as well.

When he wakes up only an hour later, plagued by images of Stan’s death that he’s not sure he’d be able to heal the same way, he gives himself a dreamless sleep as well.

[devnmon]

𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗.

eddie x reader x volt

warnings: fingering, fucking, sex while standing up, volt cums in his pants (teehee), cumming inside

summary: eddie and volt want to make sure you know how much they appreciate you helping them make up.

wc: 827

How the fuck did you get here?

Something about the boys arguing all day, you were sure… 

Now you were pressed up against the wall in the back room of the club. After watching both Eddie and Volt quite literally kiss and make up, and then get each other off. 

Four hands explored your body, Eddie with one down your pants, the other gripping your waist. Pushed up against Volt’s chest, your arms above your head with his large hands around your wrists. 

It was completely overwhelming, having the two men stalk towards you moments before with lust blown eyes. To surround you with smirks on their faces, low voices sounding out in the warm room. 

“Live wire, we’re just so grateful you gave us that push to make up. Let us return the favor, hm?” Volt had spoken to you, but your mind was hazy from how Eddie stared you down. 

Within a moment, both pairs of hands were traveling the expanses of your body, cheeks growing hot. 

Eddie had not only taken the liberty of lifting your shirt up to get a glorious look at your chest, but once his hand traveled between your legs, he’d found just how much watching the two boys kiss turned you on. 

“You liked watching me and Volt, didn’t you? That’s so dirty. I fuckin’ love it.” 

Now his hand pleasured you the way no one else’s did, tenderly and slow to drink in every single one of your noises. Volt was already getting hard again at your back. 

“E-Eddie…” you moaned as his fingers curled inside your warmth. It was clear he was having so much fun watching you fall apart because of them. 

“Tell me how good it feels, to have such a dashing man get you off. Go on, don’t be shy, live wire.” Volt murmured in your ear, stroking the skin on your wrists with his thumbs. 

“It feels s-so good, Volt.” 

“I couldn’t imagine anything different. Eddie’s always been so good with his hands.” His teeth and lips dragged against your ear. 

“Mm— mhm…” 

Volt’s hands then switched up, holding both your wrists with one set of skilled fingers to palm at your chest. The soft flesh pooled over in his grip, nipples gardening with his electrifying touches. Lightly shocking your skin here and there as he did was one of Volt’s favorite tricks to disperse over your skin. 

It was enough stimulation to shut your brain off, but that was exactly what they wanted. To overwhelm your entire body as a way of thanking you. 

You begged again for the dark haired man, taking your pleads to heart and indulging you with his cock. It took no time for him to grow hard again, the little sounds you made spurring him and Volt on again. 

His pants and yours were pulled down in no time, Volt now letting your wrists go to let you pull Eddie in close when his cock was freed. The white haired man adjusted his hands to hold your waist while the other neared you, one hand wrapped around himself and the other tipping your chin up to kiss him feverishly. Eddie’s tongue down your throat made it so much more difficult to moan when he slid inside you. 

When your knees faltered, which they did immediately, Volt’s strong arms were there to hold you up for Eddie to thrust into you freely. 

The groan he let out when his thrusts picked up was oh so heavenly. All you wanted was for your boys to feel good and now that they had made up, they were doing their part to make sure you did as well. 

Whimpers of their names slipped from your lips, all the while their hands were inching you closer to release. Eddie’s hips angled differently and pressed against your sweet spot with his next thrust. 

Volt was enjoying the show, the shakes of your body creating friction on his clothed cock, sending his head falling back in pleasure. 

Soon enough you were begging Eddie to go faster, speeding you towards your release faster than ever. It didn’t take long for his hips to begin stuttering as he reached down to stimulate your sensitive spot and coax you closer with him not far behind. 

“E-eddie… Volt… I’m gonna…” 

“That’s it, live wire… cum with me. With us…” Eddie’s gruff, low voice was enough. 

His warmth spread inside you, feeling his length twitch inside you as you were sent over the edge and clenched around him sporadically. 

Your body collapsed onto Volt’s, his pants becoming warm with release as well. The three of you stood, catching your breath and feeling the boys’ lips press soft kisses into your skin. 

“Now, what do you say we all get some rest?” Eddie proposed. 

“Yes, that’d be delightful.” Volt answered. 

One of them scooped you up in their arms, carrying you to their bedroom and stroking your hair until you fell asleep. 

[stellargh0ul]

i see your perpetua panty smelling. i ask, copia smelling your panties and getting caught by you doing it. and you simply must teach him a lesson 😌

thank you for all the work you do MWAH

I always love seeing the Avocado in my notes! thank you for sending in this prompt <3

-

you aren’t entirely sure what you’ve walked into at first when you enter your apartments in the Ministry- the lights are on, but dimmed, and there’s a figure sitting your bed with its back to you. your first instinct is to scream that there’s an intruder, before you recognize the man; it’s Copia, your partner.

your next mystery is to figure out exactly what he’s doing, because he seems so engrossed with it that he hasn’t even noticed you walk in. you wait for a moment, in case he turns around, but in doing so, you hear something odd.

he moans out your name, in a tone of voice you know very well.

swiftly, you walk around your bed in time to see a pair of your panties clutched in one of his hands, the fabric wrapped around his cock. Copia’s other hand is in his mouth, teeth biting into the meat of his palm as he chokes out your name once more, pumping himself rapidly with your panties providing extra friction.

“what are you doing?” you ask, though it’s incredibly clear now what he’s doing, and he jumps about a mile.

Copia’s eyes fly open and he looks at you, hand still on his cock, before he glances down and realizes that the panties he was using to masturbate are visible. you can almost see the calculation in his head- there’s no point in trying to hide them, not when you both can see what’s happening as clear as day.

“amore, I…”

“bend over the bed,” you order him, your tone sudden and sharp. Copia physically flinches away from you.

“Madonna, please, i’m so sorry, I was just-“

“I can see what you were doing. I said to bend over the bed. surely a slut who had no problem stealing my panties to jerk off with can recognize what I want, right?”

he babbles out more half excuses but does as you ask, dropping the pair of panties and turning to bend himself over the edge of the bed. you raise his robes- his pants are already around his ankles and so you don’t have to worry about fabric taking the force of the impact.

“count them,” you order him. in truth, you’re not nearly as angry as you ought to be: it’s almost cute, the way he’d taken something of yours, moaning out your name as he jerked himself off.

but- some things definitely had to be punished, and this was one of them. he knew he wasn’t allowed to cum without your permission.

you pull your hand back and deliver a strike with full force against his backside, sending Copia forward into the bedsheets. you note, with some satisfaction, that a pool of pre is drooling out the tip of his cock afterwards.

“o-one,” Copia mutters.

“good.”

another strike, on the other cheek, and he can’t stifle the yelp that falls from his lips.

“oh, baby, did that hurt?” you ask, teasingly. “if it did, you’re certainly not going to have fun for the next 48.”

[42bakery]

RPF Summer Camp - I Answered badge

This is a badge for all people who has answered one of the ask from the agent of chaos, and here are the instructions to get if if you still don't have it.

If you want to get the 'I aswered' badge from the agent of chaos ask, but you didn't get one (I'm sorry, I was a single person and I don't know every one on MotoGPblr, plus some of you had the anon off an that defeated the objective of it). Here is a list with all the ask. You answer one and get your badge, that simple.

Again, thank you so much to @love-leah for creating the event, and for the rest of the community for opening their inbox and playing along. It was fun.

Week 1:

In an omegaverse setting, what would every rider be? (Please be free to include other designations as enigma (above alphas and sometimes described as able to change other people's designations) or you can make your own!)

If the MotoGP riders were fruits, what would they be?

Week 2:

Which riders are more likely to share a bed?

Week 3:

Tell me about your Top-5 races or liveries of the season (or both)

Which songs do you have associated with riders?

Week Extension:

Give me some recommendations of fics to read

Week 4:

Which is your hobbies outside Racing? Mine is annoying people and flood their inbox apparently

On a space ship, what function will be the riders have? ( I was supposed to send it tomorrow, but at this point who cares?)

And there's one I had wanted to send during week 2, but as I was going to the Aragón GP, it got messy

Which riders do you think will survive camping for a weekend or a week?

And a last one for all the participants to the RPF Summer Camp, what activity do you think is missing? Anything you would have love to see or do but wasn't there?

Again, this is just for fun, don't over complicate things and answer only if you want. And again, be your own agent of chaos and send asks to people, they love them (we all do)

Edit: technology is against (I hate tumblr) me and I can't get the post about why I did it in here, so please take a look at this post too

[ikeromantic]

Hi! Me again

Can I have some Mitsuhide fluff?

Just Hekima and him fooling around pulling pranks on the warlords 🥰

Ahhh I had such a good time with this one! I hope you enjoy. Approx. 800 words of fluff (and a hint of spice) with Hekima and Mitsuhide!

Mitsuhide grinned. This was going to be fun. 

Hekima nudged his arm. "Ready," she asked, her eyes wide and full of mischievous joy.

They set down the sacks they both carried and undid the ties at the top. The cloth rippled ominously with strange motions from inside. Mitsuhide couldn't keep an amused chuckle inside as he stepped away from his bag. 

"Run," Hekima laughed, and sprang away. She was fast. 

Mitsuhide loped along behind her easily. He kept a watch behind them for pursuit, but as expected, the chaos would not arrive until they were well clear. "Here," he pointed at a knotted rope hung from the side of a nearby building. 

She was up it in a flash, and he followed. Then the two of them scurried along the rooftops. "I feel like a ninja," she giggled. They managed to get into position just before the first screams started. The washroom emptied, half-dressed courtiers running from every exit as fast as they could. A few of the harmless garden snakes followed the screeching nobles, eliciting even more terrified shouts. 

"Thank you for helping me catch all those snakes, little mouse," Mitsuhide flashed her a genuine smile. 

"Anytime," Hekima laughed, her dark eyes flashing. "Someone had to put those arrogant jerks in their place." The visiting nobles had been swanning around the castle for days, tormenting the servants and leaving messes everywhere. "So what's next?"

Mitsuhide's eyes twinkled. "Lunch." He held up a cloth bag that smelled of cinnamon. 

Her eyes widened as she understood what he intended, and she began to laugh. "Oooooh that's just mean!"

"So you object?" He raised one brow, teasing.

"Nope. Some misery is earned." Hekima was still laughing as they made their cautious way to the kitchens. It was her job to distract the servants while Mitsuhide took care of adding his special ingredient to the food.

She tossed a smoke bomb into one of the outside ovens, and then shouted, "Oh no! The roast is burning! It's on fire!"

The servants all ran out, desperate to put out the fire before it spread. By the time they realized there was no danger, Mitsuhide had already slipped in and added dried senna to several of the nobles' feast dishes. The slight cinnamon flavor wouldn't raise any red flags, and in a few hours, the nobles would be camping at their toilets.

"Think that will be enough to make them go home," Hekima asked as they moved out of the kitchen area.

"Perhaps," Mitsuhide said, his lips curving in a crescent moon smile, "But I think we can ensure it with just one more little push." He pulled out a sealed container, the bamboo closed by hardened wax. 

Hekima read the handwritten label, her eyebrows rising. "Oh yes. This will definitely get those jerks to leave Azuchi."

Mitsuhide leaned over and brushed a light kiss across her lips. "You're so cute when you are having fun." 

Her cheeks heated despite all the kisses they'd shared before. His affection always made her feel fluttery inside, as if they'd only just met. "If that's so, kiss me like you mean it," she challenged.

"Don't tempt me. If I give in to my desires now, we won't finish our good works today." The heat in his eyes was enough to send pleasant prickles across her skin. 

"Fine. But when we're done . . ." Hekima gave him a meaningful look. 

Mitsuhide chuckled. "When we are done, I'll put a flush in more than just your cheeks."

Together, they slipped into the guest rooms, carefully dusting the nobles' futons and robes with the dried lacquer powder. Urushi would cause a rash and some itching, very uncomfortable but not dangerous. One night of that should push them right over the edge. And maybe next time they visited, they would learn to be kind to the staff.

Just to make sure, Hekima tucked little notes into their bags that said, "The curse of the rude guest can only be cured by politeness to those that take care of us." She didn't want the lesson to be misunderstood.

That night, Mitsuhide made good on his promises and threats, until both were sated. They woke late the next morning to an insistent knock on Mitsuhide's bedroom door. "I gave orders we were not to be disturbed," he called.

"I'm going to do more than disturb you," came Hideyoshi's stern voice.

"Not if I get to them first," Masamune growled. "I know they-"

"You both will have to wait until I finish with them," Ieyasu's cold, snappy tone interrupted.

Mitsuhide and Hekima shared a look. "Busted," she whispered.

[moistvonlipwig]

for the ship bingo: stilesmalia, anyagiles, willowtara?

stalia

i am PRO stalia this is a stalia & skittles only zone when it comes to stiles ships!!!!! who can better match stiles's feral raccoon energy than a weird coyotegirl who doesn't know how to be a person and wants to kill people a lot and is just as obsessed with scott as he is. i do actually think the moment where they broke up in s5 was an interesting, if frustrating, character beat for stiles -- like, he's so defensive of his killing of donovan to scott's face, but when malia's like um yeah dude that sounds like self-defense and is normal and fine he's like. Oh so you support MURDER??? which actually is very revealing as to how he truly feels about what he did. for a guy who loves to suggest killing he actually cannot stomach it. which is interesting! but then they should've gotten back together instead of drifting apart and ending up in less interesting relationships. also shoutout to stalia for generating theee funniest teen wolf take ever which is that stalia is bad and predatory because stiles is 16 and malia is "45 in coyote years." epically bad take that makes me laugh every single time. 45 in coyote years......

ganya

they literally had so much comedic chemistry (always a huge plus imo for any pairing) and also their interactions in "grave" were so romantic??? anya was like giles you can't die There Are Things I Have To Tell You. why did she say that. we never find out what Things she wanted to tell him. btvs writers i am in your walls. truthfully giles probably should've died in "grave" but if they were going to keep him around he should've dated anya in s7. it would've messed xander up so bad also. i am in the balance a xander liker but he is at his most enjoyable when he is being messed up so bad. so yeah ganya 4ever

tillow

i am. not a big fan tbh. it is probably my favorite of willow's canon romances just because oz is so boring it offends me and i also knew willow was gay going in so i was like Ummmmmm why is he a man. and then s7 willow is my least favorite model and also kennedy is like 15 so why are they dating. but i also have serious issues with tillow as well. i do think they're cute in s4, when i first watched the show i was like aw i like them :) but then even by late s5 i was like oh. huh. ummm i don't like the way willow is treating tara. like the way tara's like "hey willow i'm kind of concerned about your rapid powerscaling" and willow's like "why? cause you think i'm not really gay? you're homophobic against gay women who dated men before realizing they were gay? is that it?" like HUH. excuse me. and then in s6 willow full-on rapes and abuses tara. and to be clear i think this is all good writing. i am on board with all of this.

but THEN they have the magic drug addiction arc where suddenly we're supposed to see willow as some sort of victim. and then tara gets back together with willow which given that willow has not substantially made amends for her treatment of tara or even recognized what she did to her.....really just feels like tara is returning to her abuser because her entire life has been going from one abuser to another and at least this one loves her. and then they kill tara and they completely sweep willow's treatment of her under the rug to instead be like ohhh poor baby willow she is so sad her girlfriend died. they even have a s7 episode where willow turns into warren but instead of reckoning with how willow's abuse of tara echoed warren's abuse of katrina, they instead have willow's inner conflict be that she feels she is "killing" tara by moving on.

ultimately tara should never have gotten back together with willow and willow should have been forced to actually reckon with her actions and her capacity for real harm. one of my main issues with willow's relationships is that none of her partners really ever held her to account for her bullshit; tara came close, but then folded, and so willow never really had to learn anything. and tara's whole arc was just......escaping abuse only to end up in an abusive relationship, extract herself from that relationship, and then put herself back in that relationship and then die and be defined by that relationship forever. awesome. so yeah. not a fan.