#ANYWHERE ELSE... HE'D BE A TEN...

[frecklystars]

☆ - ̗̀✨ He's just Ken ✨ ̖́- ☆

[naldoreth]

I'm just Ken but instead of Ken is Legolas singing about the reader/YN/fem OC

[shannonsketches]

id like to hear your thoughts on ganon's feelings/experience with gender, wrt his own and/or gerudo in general

Ooo thank you for asking!!

So I mentioned before that I hc that gender is Different in Gerudo Valley than how we/Hyrule would perceive it. Because it's (an almost entirely) mono-sexed meritocracy, gender presentation isn't really named in such a way, it's just. You. That's who you are. Maybe you have tiddies and a vajeej but you aren't boiled down to Woman(tm) except in comparison to an intruding Hylian or a once-in-a-century King that may or may not live past infancy, or if you're interested in bearing a child then you learn about Femininity(tm) as Hylians understand and expect it.

So Ganondorf like. He knows he's a male, and he identifies as a male, but he doesn't identify as Man (Hylian/Human), he identifies as Male (Gerudo/Divine) because that's what his culture offers. And he doesn't see himself as a god(tm), except maybe out of spite in comparison to Hylians, but he also understands that there is No Other Being Like Him in any country in any land anywhere in the world except in legends, so it's difficult not to attribute something distinctly Othering about himself, even though he is Gerudo.

So in the same way that a Gerudo might kind of align her gender idea/presentation with her interests and specialties rather than a more traditional route, so does Ganondorf. His gender is Gerudo King. His gender is Born of the Sun. His gender is Better Than You. He's just Ganondorf and he's more than Kenough.

[starshine-valley]

"oh no, they're (the children) singing again..." - Taiga about vivid bad squad /j

[httpswstef]

HEADCANONS & love and deepspace boys♡

warning : f!reader, just pure fluff, anyone can read. ☆

words count : 2652.

characters : rafayel, zayne, xavier, caleb.

stefie : hi! sorry if i have mistakes : ( hope u like it!

rafayel !

the most playful little guy in the world! will literally do anything you want just to see your wonderful smile and hear your beautiful laugh! he is truly willing to go to great lengths, it makes no difference to him what exactly.

he will stare at you all the time, just because he likes it so much and you can't do anything about it, he is fascinated by you and he wants to watch your beauty at any moment. you are the truest angel for him, how should he get away from you? that's right, he doesn't.

he loves to stroke your cheeks with the pad of his thumb and look into your gaze, he tries to find something there but love and care for him.

like a ritual for a happy day - kissing your eyes and pressing his nose against yours and trying to make your breathing the same.

the boy literally wants to become one with you. to become your heart, air and soul (in the best and most adequate sense). and he doesn't want to let you go anywhere else, rafael is afraid that someday you might find someone better, though he guffaws about it, but will you find someone more perfect than him? no.

he's a very gentle kisser! he has such soft lips that you just want to kiss every second, and he can't help himself when he sees you and immediately tries to snuggle up to your sweet lips, makes a very hurt look if you don't kiss him, makes his trademark pouty face and waits for your apology. he's such a meow.

but also, he loves to cuddle! i'm sure that he is very warm and can warm you up at any moment if you ask, and you don't have to ask, he will realize it himself! because he is sticking to you 25/8 to share this warm energy and his love with you, gently stroking you with his palm and leaving air kisses all over your body, you will not be able to resist him 110%.

he likes to just lie next to you and talk about anything or be silent, rafayel doesn't care, the main thing is that you are close and safe next to him.

i think he gets jealous sometimes. you are his treasure and his most important love, he trusts you all his life, but raf can't trust other men when they look at you as their prey. He'd rather spend the night in the police station than let one of those idiots touch you, i mean it.

if you sleep next to him, there's a 100% chance rafael is sleeping on top of you, and you're trying to get out of his grip and he's squeezing harder.

he will never raise his voice at you, and if he does, it will be by accident. he'll be on his knees begging you to forgive him and not leave him. will apologize for another ten years to let you know that he's really sorry and he'll never do it again, because he loves you infinitely more.

you're his biggest muse and his only muse. he'll make an exhibition of paintings with only you in them. you. rafayel wants people to know who helped him achieve such a beautiful inspiration, he tried as hard as he could, he painted his paintings daily and didn't miss a single second, he spent a lot of time but it was worth it, because you were crazy about the paintings! smiled, laughed and cried so hard with love for him, it broke rafayel's heart. this is his number one exhibition and the one where he captured his life, his air and his one and only love.

his love languages are spending time together and physical contact! he wants to hold you close and not let you go, kiss or touch you in every way possible, warm you and love you with his love and he is endlessly happy when you spend time with him like this, play with his hair and draw with him, raf will be over the moon!

will call you baby and his love absolutely always! because it's true. once you get into a relationship, he'll already use nicknames, he doesn't care, you're his favorite and that's it. 💅

zayne !

zayne is the most protective type of guy! he always wants to know that you're okay and you don't have any problems, and if you do, please tell him and he'll drop everything to rush over to you and protect you, help you and make you happy. it might have something to do with his profession, but either way, zayne just loves you beyond belief and wouldn't get over the moment if something happened to you.

already he wants to live together with you and come to your house, hugging you around the waist and kissing your shoulder. he wants to feel your warmth and let go of all the problems, bad moods and anger just by being near you and inhaling your scent.

he doesn't care if you work or not, he will pay for you everywhere and that's the truth! zayne wants to give you everything in this world, to make you happy and look at things while remembering your favorite guy, it will warm zayne's heart more than anything!

the most gentle and careful boy! sweetly holding your waist and stroking you a little while he listens with a smile on his face as you tell him something, he is so in love with you :( this may sound selfish, but zayne doesn't care who you are sitting with, he only wants to listen to you and look at you.

he has the most wonderful kisses. zayne kisses you with all the passion he has set aside for such a wonderful and intimate moment between you, he takes his time with you. gently he settles his hands on your cheeks and brushes his hands against your plump lips, savoring such a wonderful taste of love between you, trying to pull away every now and then so you can breathe a little, but he just can't, he wants to kiss you every second and never let go of those beautiful lips. will probably bite you a little if he's in a playful mood so he can kiss those spots on your lips afterward. 🫢

if we're talking about cuddling, it's one of zayne's favorite things to do. as much as he loves kissing you, feeling your warmth is so much more important to him. he can feel your pulse beating out his name and he smiles like a cat. just feeling you near gives him the best hope in the world and the fact that he's willing to fight every day just to keep you warm.

if you sleep next to him, zayne holds you very gently and sniffles softly in your ears. only with you can he sleep so soundly that he probably won't hear alarm clocks, he'll be late, but he'll kiss you and tell you how glad he is to have you in his life.

he'll text you throughout the day to see how you're feeling and if you want to visit him, and if zayne is more or less free, he'll have lunch with you!

he's not the jealous type. zaynehas confidence in you and in the fact that you'll never hurt him - that's enough. and if anyone starts thinking he has a chance with you, clearly he'll fly off to another galaxy.

he might come in upset from work sometimes and start ignoring you, just because he doesn't want to snap and say rude words in your direction, because he knows you don't deserve that. Kiss him on the forehead and tell him how much you love him - zayne will definitely cry and lay on your chest while you gently stroke his hair. he's such a baby.

his love languages are words and actions! i'm 100% sure of it. zayne shows his love for you through actions and doesn't mind telling the world about his endless love for just you. ( he's already planning to marry you and picking out a ring, hehe.)

will call you angel and baby! the cutest nicknames and only for you. he calls you that everywhere he goes and doesn't care about the stares of the people around him. you have the sweetest love! 🥺

xavier !

the smallest baby of all! literally the embodiment of love, sunshine and all that is purest. xavier has the most tender feelings for you, which he kept especially for you, protecting them from stares and dirty hands, just so you could see what a beautiful love he has for you.

i also think he's one of the most romantic guys. He thinks out every date so that you will definitely like it, makes a plan and then goes to you to ask for your opinion, the only one he will listen to. 🫢

but also, he'll also be happy to just sit at home with you, talking about different topics and cuddling until the wee hours of the morning on the couch while some movie is playing in the background. xavier will look at you with a look full of love, you lit a spark in him and only thanks to you it is always with him.

despite the fact that xavier seems too sweet and kind, he also has his dark side as a hunter, he will not be afraid to stand up for you at any moment, no matter what they do to him - he doesn't care. after all, you trusted him and trusted your heart, now he will always protect you from the evil in this world. you deserve nothing but heaven and all the beautiful things in it.

i would say xavier is the type of guy who loves hugs much more than kisses, just feeling your heartbeat and breathing - makes him happier than ever. him holding you close and stroking you with his palm while his other hand goes through your hair is something much more than just love, it's a special intimacy, keep it.

speaking of kissing though, xavier loves kissing your cheeks and hands! his most favorite places and the ones he once kissed for the first time, they are precious to him and so he dare not leave them without his special love. his lips are VERY soft, even too soft! the ones you want to kiss every second of the day. 😭 before nestling his lips on yours, xavier runs his finger along your cheeks and is sure to whisper sweet words, im sure!

i think he's jealous, sometimes too jealous. he's just afraid you'll leave him or find someone better. ☹️ seriously, the boy is ready to fight for you with anyone, just so you can feel his endless love. but don't worry, he will never blame you or fight with you, xavier is beyond that, he will just get over it and come running to you for a cuddle afterward!

and based on that, xavier is not a fan of fighting, just like the rest of the guys. he is a sweet baby and wants you to have a loving relationship with him and no aggression.

xavier loves to sleep next to you, because it's so peaceful and he knows that you are absolutely fine. covering you with his warm blanket and pulling you even closer to him! trying to put you together like a puzzle and kisses you softly behind your ear and then kisses your neck to let you know that xavier is there for you and always will be.

he will cook for you! even if he doesn't know how to cook, he will learn how to cook so that he can delight you every day with his masterpieces and see your smile after his incredibly tasty dishes.

like i said before, xavier is the most tactile baby of all, so his primary love language is physical contact! he loves snuggling with you, he loves cuddling, he loves stroking you, he loves when you sit on his lap, he loves when you braid his hair, he is just crazy about the way your bodies interact and the warmth you give each other. and another love language is support! you are his best and most loyal friend, he will trust you with all his secrets and more. xavier also wants to be your source of energy for the whole day, support you when you are in a bad mood and want to cry, or when you want to be alone, but he will still check in on you from time to time to make sure you are okay.

calling you all kinds of cute nicknames! he has no favorites, to him you are a baby, toddler, baby girl, little girl, princess, kitten, bear and everything in between. he is too sweet and wants you to know how beautiful you are in his eyes and what a gorgeous girl you are!

caleb !

my baby caleb! the most favorite of all and the one I myself would do anything for and protect him from any evil. 🥺 he has got all types of softie guys in him and is loving, and protective, and sweet, and hot! he is literally everything, i can say you won the lottery if you accepted his love, because caleb will give you the ultimate paradise with soft clouds, heartfelt confessions and with your most favorite fruits! my boy is the most loving and so he will do the best for his angel.

plus, he is the ultimate jokester! when caleb is around you, he always tries to make a joke somehow to make you smile sunny and then tickle you and hear your laughter that will make caleb himself laugh to tears.

caleb just walks up to you and rests his head on top of yours and follows you around like a lost child. 😭 i swear, if you walk downtown together, he'll probably cling to you so he doesn't lose sight of you (he's afraid of losing you.)

he also loves to eat and so he always wants to take you to different places he likes and treat you to something yummy for how well you did! (even if you didn't do anything.)

he's not jealous at all because he's confident in your relationship and won't let anyone ruin it. your harmony and your love is far above anything in his life, he is ready to keep it in his soul forever and even in death he will love you with his tender love. even if caleb notices someone trying to hit on you, he knows that person will get nothing, because you are only loyal to your gorgeous boyfriend and no one else. he will also make sure to stand up for you and tell the person to go elsewhere and leave you alone.

will introduce you to his grandmother without fail! he loves you both dearly and is confident that you will get along and find common ground, making caleb the happiest guy on this planet!

and how he loves to kiss you! very hard, but at the same time too tender! for caleb, all of you, beautiful and wonderful, all the parts of your body that he wants to kiss and give all his love! he presses his palms to your face and gazes into your eyes, mentally asking for your permission and only then does he kiss you, not allowing you to inhale and continuing to kiss you as his hands travel up and down your body. it's like you're the only thing alive to him in this world, and even though you are. 🫢

he has the tightest hugs and that's a fact. a hug that brings you back to the brightest place and protects you from every evil in this world while caleb quietly sings your favorite song to you, bringing tears to your eyes. he loves cuddling on your bed where he immediately and falls asleep on your chest.

he loves sleeping with you and waking up with you, as he feels your breath on his skin and smiles again, kissing your face and thinking he wants to wake up like that for the rest of his life. most likely he will sleep on top of you. 🫠 but no one minds because caleb is very warm and will replace any blanket for you!

never quarrels with you and doesn't care what others say. he listens to you and takes your side and then is completely calm to make his point. caleb cherishes you incredibly much and doesn't want to fight about anything, it's useless and too sad, and our baby boy always wants to make you happy.

so, love languages, what are his? most likely the most standard set of love: words, actions, support, and time together. that's what makes caleb happy and you don't have to pick one thing. he speaks many words of love that are absolutely true. always hugs you and kisses you at every moment to see the dimples on your cheeks. supports you in your toughest moments, tears you up when you're sad. and to top it all off, spends almost all of his time with you and wants to capture all the highlights of your life.

he calls you his baby girl and princess! after all, you deserve it. let's just say he's been calling you nicknames since day one of your relationship, he doesn't care. 😭 caleb loves it when you get embarrassed and try to look away, but he catches your chin with his finger and turns you around for a kiss gently purring "baby girl."

[kookslastbutton]

Lovin' You Right ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: Your new badass neighbor won't leave you alone. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it.

Pairing: new neighbor!jungkook x fem!reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, e2l, neighbors, oneshot/drabble

Word Count: 2,031

Warnings: cussing, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, missionary, praising, rough s*x, d*rty talk, sp*nking overst*mulation, reader's first-time, sl*t calling once, oc a bit of an uptight b at first, little manhandling, jk rides a motorcylce, jk giving it to oc straight, a very wet date bc MV made me do it

Now Playing: seven by jjk

A/N: no explanation, this is just what i thought of when i listened to jungkook's song 'seven'. Hope you enjoy! 💞

He looked like a real hard ass with all the black leather he wore, arms covered in ink, and chains hanging from his neck. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home.

He was your next-door neighbor and he rode a mean motorcycle. It was loud as fuck and woke you up about ten times during the night. And every time he saw you in the hallway? He'd have this shit-eating grin on, like he wanted to devour you whole.

"Think our mail got switched up again," he said, handing you a pile of letters. "Gonna need to talk to the mail man or somethin'."

"Oh geez," you replied, doing your best to avoid eye contact of more than three seconds–his eyes were just a little too piercing. "Thanks." You shoved the letters under your arm and carried on your way. It was laundry day and you desperately needed to have clean clothes.

"Hey wait," he kept on your trail. "How's your day goin'?" He rushed ahead to open the laundry room door, allowing you to go first.

Look at him trying to be a gentleman, hmph. You held your head high and walked through the door. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it.

.

Like an itch that won't go away, Jungkook followed you as much as he could. No matter how much you scratched, he'd be right there, burning holes in the back of your neck. He'd watch you dump your clothes in the washer, walk you to your car whenever you needed to go anywhere, hell he even helped you carry in groceries when given the chance.

"What do you want Jeon?" You finally popped the question. He didn't look like he was simply "being generous" or "doing his part to make the world better". He was bumming around for something, he had to be.

"Go out with me," he simply quipped, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes, he was too old for beating around the bush and he was fed up with you giving him the silent finger. Not once have you told him to beat it straight to his face so he's gonna shoot his shot. "Yes or no __? You know I like you, why else would I be bugging the crap out of you?"

"'Cause you want to fuck me then leave me for your other neighbor, the one who lives on the other side of your door." You crossed your arms against your chest. "Tell me I'm wrong."

He narrowed his eyes, tiniest of smirks on his overly gorgeous, no good, lying face. " No you're right. I do wanna fuck that pretentious attitude you got. It's been pissing me off for weeks."

He took a step towards you, caging you between himself and your kitchen island. "What gives you the right to be this bitchy huh? You act like you know everything there is to know about me, but you're too damn stubborn to open your eyes and see it's all a complete farce." He leaned his head forward to graze his lips along the edge of your ear. "I don't know what little girl fairytales you've been taught but I'm not the monster you need to watch out for....and prince charmings don't exist, princess."

You shoved your hands against his chest but he grips them tight in his own. "We don't have to go out anymore. I see what you really think of me."

He released your wrist and headed for the door. "It's really a shame," he hollered before leaving. "You're really beautiful."

God you hated him.

.

For the next week, Jungkook was no where in sight. He didn't come see you, he didn't bring you anything, he went completely M.I.A. It was a breath of fresh air but by the second week, you wondered where he was and if he was okay. He did drive a motocylce afterall, maybe he got in an accident and you didn't know.

You stared at his door, hesistant to knock in fear if him actually being in there. He'd likely laugh you off when he saw you, so you purposefully picked a time he'd most likely be out and about anyway. You hated that you kinda knew his schedule.

Jungkook quirked an amused brow at you when he finally cranked his door open. He was wearing light washed jeans and no under shirt, his pecs were on full display. "What can I do for you princess?"

"Nothing," you spat, definitely not looking below his thick neck. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid yet."

"Checking up on me huh?" He put an elbow on the door frame, eyes darkening. "That's sweet."

"Fuck off. You're healthy it seems so I'm gonna go check up on the other neighbors now. I think Mrs. Baker set the fire alrms off the other day so I need to make sure she's oka—"

You're arm was yanked back as soon as you moved to turn around. "Fuck you're bullshit __. You missed me didn't ya?"

"Not much to miss Jeon." You're such a liar, Jungkook muttered to himself. The whole world could see you were having a conversation with his pecs this whole time—too damn timid to look him in the eyes.

"Shut up and say you'll go out with me already. I'm tired of waiting for your ass to come around."

.

You swallowed your pride and there you were, watching Jungkook splash in every single puddle. He just had to propose going out the one day it was storming out.

"Wipe that sour look off your face!" He stomped in the water, drenching you entirely.

You shrieked at the sudden coldness. Big droplets of water soaked your face, clothes, shoes, everything. "You're such a child Jungkook!"

He ignored you and wrapped his muscular arms around you. The white tank he wore was drenched as well. "You're having fun, admit it."

You scoffed. The only reason you agreed to go out was to show him how ridiculous it would be for the two of you to go out. You and Jungkook were likely the most incompatible people for each other. While he was out riding his bike with heavy metal blasting, you were watching the latest law drama in you're pajamas. It was only a matter of time before this expirament of his would show him the true results of your intermingling.

"C'mon," he took you by the hand and dragged you through the rain. "Just be in the moment __. Let the rain shower over you and be free!" He grabbed your other hand and began spinning you both in circles.

"I'm going to get dizzy."

"Then only look at me. Look at me and don't worry about what's around us. Focus on a single subject and you won't get dizzy." He pulled you by the waist, forcing you to stare straight at him.

He was right. The dizziness went away but your knees feel like jelly.

"What's holding you back?" Jungkook smiled and it was the most genuine smile you'd ever seen. "Look at me __. Look at us. What do you see?"

As you stood there in the pouring rain, a pair of deep, boy-like eyes locked with yours. This was him, the thought dawned on you, a soft-hearted guy who wasn't afraid to open himself up.

You felt a pang of guilty settle in your gut–you weren't the better person like you so believed. You're closed off, comfortable in your space. Skeptical of anyone and everyone. You were wrong to see Jungkook as a careless, arrogant, motorcycle thug and it was a hard pill for you to swallow.

"I don't know." You replied softly, shivering at the faintest touch of his fingers supporting on your back. "I'm sorry, I don't know Jungkook."

"Well I see something worth sticking around for, rain or shine. I think I've become an idiot for you and I don't think that bothers you as much as you let on. You sought me out after I gave you space and I've literally been playing in the puddles this whole date and you haven't ditched me yet. So if you want some more of this, I'll give it to you with open hands, open heart, and I'll make sure to be loving you right." He winked before finishing. "As many days as you'd like."

Jungkook didn't give you much time to respond before he pressed his lips against your own. He made sure to go gentle, barely brushing them over your lips.

You understood immediately–if you wanted this, you were going to have to be the one to seal the deal.

And you did, kissing him with full force. You hoped you wouldn't regret this in the morning.

.

Ever since that night, you and Jungkook had started going out. It was slow at first but six months later, you and he finally made your relationship official.

"Shh," he cooed above you. He was a bit of a blur due to the pitch darkness of the room but you felt him everywhere. He was straddling your naked sides, praising your body like it was art. "Doing so good for me baby, making me so hard–fuck."

It was your first real-time being with a man and being your new boyfriend, Jungkook made sure to be extra attentive. "Kook," you moaned, back arching and pussy throbbing from where he had recently entered you.

He dragged his thick length out of you before slamming back in, a little rougher than the previous thrust. "That's it," he said through gritted teeth. "Let me hear those pretty moans. Been dying to hear them since I first saw you in those cute little sweat shorts you like walking to the laundry room in."

"Faster Kook, please." You gripped his muscular back, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. You needed him lodged so far in your gut that you'd literally see stars. "Plea–please."

"Shit baby, if you start begging this early I can't promise you I won't go completely feral and I don't want to hurt you."

"I want all of you Jungkook," you said. "You said you'd love me right, so do it." And that's all it took for your boyfriend to lock down on your waist with firm hands, pounding into you with all he had.

You tried looking up at him, wanting to look him dead in the eye as he fucked into you but you couldn't handle it. He was dripping with sweat, his muscles were tense, veins were protruding out of neck, and his teeth were clamped shut. He was focused and he knew what he was doing. You on the other hand were a complete opposite story.

"Jung-Jungkook, oh god, fuck!" You screamed incoherently. His big cock reached every inch inside you, stretching you out with every snap of his hips. Never in your life had you had so much pleasure in a short amount of time. And embarrasing it may be, you were definitely going to come far before the usual.

"Look at you fucking falling apart already. Too much for your tight little pussy to handle isn't it? Well you begged for this, and now you're gonna take this cock like a big girl aren't ya," he barked, landing a sharp slap to your ass.

"Shit!" You yelped, clenching around him automatically. "Gonna come Kook...please-please. It's my first time I-"

You came without finishing the plead, sticky white substance ran down your thighs and onto the sheets. Jungkook's wet length continues to move in you, pushing some of your cum back in. The erotic squelching makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Mhm yeah." He planted a trail of rough kisses up your neck, teeth nipping at the delicate skin. "And now you're gonna come again, and again, and again til you're dripping with my cum. I'm gonna then eat you out while my fingers play with your clit. But congrats on your first-time baby, because from here on out, you're gonna become my slut , and I'll be fucking you seven days a week."

A/N: written a little different than usual but yeah...haha idk. Tysm for reading and lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[luveline]

Could I request stripper reader and post prison Spencer being all domestic? I just think Spencer deserved to have someone take care of him after that

thank you for requesting! ♡ fem

cw spencer makes a weight related joke about reader but he is one hundred percent kidding/is talking about carrying the reader and not her actual body weight, pls don't read if it will upset you

“How's it feel now?” you ask. 

Spencer glances down at you from the TV. If he had his way since being released from prison, you would spend the majority of time in his lap, and the TV would not be on, but you're trying not to smother him and he's content to let you do what you want, so long as you're in arm's reach. 

“How does what feel?” he asks, frowning. 

“Your leg? You know, the one you stabbed yourself in?” 

“Fine. Surface wound. Hey, are you almost done?” 

“No. I'm making you a mug cosy.” 

“Could you not come up here and make me cosy?” 

You put your little crochet hook and yarn ball on the floor near the paper pattern you're following. “That's way too cheesy a thing to say for a felon.” You grin at him. “Good for you, I'm awful at this,” —you climb onto your knees, arms out to him as he grabs you and pulls you onto the couch— “and I don't want to do it anymore.” 

“Then don't.” He smiles as you settle against him, half on top of him, your pyjamas soft against his bare arms and legs. “I'm not a felon.” 

“I'm kidding,” you say gently. 

He puts his hand against the top of your head and forces you backwards a touch to meet his eyes. “I know.” 

You glare at him. He decides he'd like to play too and glares back. 

“Crochet is very difficult.” 

Spencer lets you drop back into his chest. “You're good at enough things already,” he says. “Like not going to prison, and being heavy.” 

You bear down on him with more weight, a laugh slipping from you unbidden. He loves how startled you sound to have laughed, and how nice you smell as you push your arm under his back to hug him. “That's sick,” you mumble, your free hand toying with the soft neck of his shirt. You pull it down, kissing the skin between his collarbone. “You can't call me heavy. That's so mean.” 

“I love you,” he says. 

You smile into his chest. “I love you too, even though you said I'm heavy.” 

“Relatively, when you're making me carry you to bed at night–” 

“I don't do that,” you laugh guiltily. “No, you've got me mixed up with someone else.” 

“Well, let's just stay here tonight.” Your phone beeps. “Or not.” 

You press yourself into his neck and talk warmth into the curve. “I'm not going anywhere, Spencer. I'm staying right here, forever. And in ten years you'll have huge muscles from carrying me to bed.” 

“And your thigh muscles will have atrophied.” 

“Like those, do you?” 

“As much as I like every part of you. You're the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

You snore. Spencer laughs, jostling you on his chest, and you drop the facade to kiss his throat in slow, meandering presses of the lips, no one place in mind, just warm half moons turned a little wider as you go. He breathes out slowly. Kisses like this are the ones that plagued him late at night, when the mind ran out of worry and turned to missing you instead. He would've given anything two weeks ago to have you laying on him like this, and now he has it for nothing. Just ‘cos you love him. 

“Are you gonna go back?” he asks quietly. 

“To the club?” You draw a short line into his neck with your nose. “Sure, once you're feeling better.” 

“I'm alright. I am.” 

“Until I'm feeling better, then,” you say, putting your hand on his cheek. You have slightly longer nails than when he went away, and the tips of them tickle his freshly shaven cheek as you turn his face to yours. “I'll go back just as soon as I stop missing you when you're in the bathroom. Or I run out of money.” 

“Don't be childish,” he says.

“I'm not, I'm being realistic.” 

“Realistically, I'll take care of you.” 

You sigh happily and kiss him. That happiness passes between you in shivers, until Spencer's hot under the collar and you're giggling. “What's funny?” he asks. 

“Maybe I'll get a job at the grocery store.” 

Spencer doesn't know what you'll do, but he'll be there for you like you were there for him. “Good idea. You can be a checkout girl and I'll stay home, looking at pictures of you and crying while you're gone.” 

You nudge him. “Don't make fun of me for that! It was a long month and a half without you, Spencer.” 

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “I'm not making fun of you. It was the same for me, you know? Just didn't have a picture of you.” 

[harlowhockeystick]

hi!!!!! i was wondering if i could request the reader forgetting date night w rafe because she was jus so busy?? maybe like angst to fluff :))

february prompts | rafe cameron x reader | reader is kind of a ditz, please send more rafe i am down so bad

the tick tock of the clock makes your mind go crazy. watching as time goes by, picking at your nails while you anxiously listen for the hum of his truck and the scratching of his tires against the gravel road outside of your house. anxiously waiting.

it wouldn't be the first time he was late, though. he'd been late a few times before, you got used to his bad habit. very rarely was he twenty-five minutes late. by now, you're sure that they already gave your table away to someone else. maybe if he shows up in the next ten minutes you can still make your movie, but you have doubts.

five more minutes, then i'll call.

four went by. you heard a familiar sound outside, but you turn around to see it's a truck pulling into your neighbors driveway.

three went by. you felt your phone buzz, but it was just an update from instagram.

two went by. one went by.

"hey rafey, what're you up to?" you ask nervously, staring at the clock that keeps mocking you with it's tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

he sighs on the other end of the line, "i'm still up here at work, why?" you bit your lip at a silly attempt to keep from crying. as soon as one tear fell more and more continued to fall.

"well, um, remember how we had reservations tonight? at that new place downtown?" you mention through tears and he hears it loud and clear. he almost drops his phone in anger and disappointment at himself. you hear him sigh and knock his fist against something a couple times.

"baby, i am so sorry," he whispers. you hear on the other side of the phone rafe shuffling a few things around, the jingling of keys and heavy footsteps.

"if you leave now i can meet you at the movie theater," you interrupted.

"what? no, no i'll pick you up. no need for you to drive all the way over there. i'll be at your place shortly," rafe quickly shut your idea down. he ended the phone call and you remained sat on the couch until he walked through your front door with the key you gave him.

he did just a few minutes later. rafe didn't greet you with a hug or a hello but instead he pressed his lips against your own and he placed his hands on your hips.

"i'm sorry sweetie, i got too distracted at work," he pulled away and tucked some hair behind your ear. it was always work that took him away from you. honestly you weren't even sure what rafe did for work. you knew that it had something to do with his dad, but he never told you what his exact job or title was. rafe just explained he works so that he can buy you all the things you want, take you to anywhere you want, and then some.

"c'mon lets go to the movies," he took your hand and walked with you out of the house. he reached up to tap the top doorframe of your front door and when he did his shirt rose up and you saw a gun tucked in the back of his pants, you gasped a little. what did he do for work that caused him to carry a gun with him?

rafe was a tough, almost scary man to some people. he was never scary to you, though. throughout the night he made up for him being late, getting a little handsy during the movie and going out for ice cream after, getting you as many scoops as you wanted.

"rafey," you asked while changing into your pajamas for the night, "what do you do for work again?" the question had been lingering all night in your head, you couldn't even focus on the movie because you kept wracking you brain. had he told you, and you just forgot? were you not paying attention when he told you?

"i told you sweetie, i just do boring stuff, stuff you wouldn't understand. i just make enough money so i can spoil you silly," he answered you coming up behind you and giving you a kiss in the curve of your neck.

"well, i saw your gun tucked in your pants. it kinda scared me, what do you do for work that makes you carry a gun?" rafes heart rate began to go up a little bit as he felt his cheeks get red.

"that's just precaution, lots of freaks out there." rafe kisses your cheek and pulls you back to the bedroom. he always keeps an extra pair of pajamas in your closet for the nights he stays over, which is often. "c'mon, let's go to bed."

he lets the hum of some documentary lull you to sleep in his arms. he takes a breath of relief, he doesn't know how much longer he can keep you oblivious.

[loveephia]

how some of the HQ boys react when you have a cute sneeze. (suna, kuroo, bokuto, sakusa, and ushijma.)

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, suna is a buttwad, kuroo momentarily becomes a scientist, bokuto thinks your sneeze came from a kitten, sakusa is a meanie.

⚠ warning/s: none.

SUNA RINTARŌ

when he first heard it, his face was straight and stoic as always

but his mind is all like, "that was the cutest thing ever."

so now, whenever you wind up to sneeze, he pulls out his phone, ready to record you

THEN IT UNSATISFYINGLY CUTS OFF YOUR SNEEZE.

you glare at suna and mumble a, "this is all your fault."

suna only sticks his tongue out

one day, he will GET that video.

KUROO TETSURŌ

did that sneeze??? come from YOU????

is it even scientifically possible for it to sound THAT CUTE

"can you do it again?" he asks

and you stare at him with nothing but confusion behind your eyes because how.

"why?"

"i'm conducting an experiment." he insists

you fake a sneeze for his satisfaction, and kuroo's face drops

"that's not a sneeze."

"sHUT UP, TETSU!!! I'M TRYING."

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

"huh? was that a kitten?" bokuto asks dumbfoundedly

and tHAT ALONE EMBARASSED YOU SO MUCH.

you just nod along to his question, and he starts looking around for the kitten

YOU CAN'T CORRECT HIM NOW.

HE FULLY BELIEVES THAT THERE'S A HIDDEN KITTEN IN THE FUKURODANI GYMNASIUM.

when you sneeze and you happen to be with bokuto OUTSIDE the gym, HE THINKS THE KITTEN FOLLOWED YOU TWO.

"pspsps, where are you, little kitten?!"

you want to dig yourself a hole and lie there.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

have you guys ever read that one chapter in the haikyū-bu!! manga where sakusa goes absolutely manic over that one roach in his room

bro was willing to burn his belongings and room DOWN TO THE GROUND.

this man loves you,

just clearly not enough to be near you or your sneezes right now.

"ten feet apart or else."

"but i want kisses.. D:"

despite him blushing over how cute it sounded, he's not going anywhere REMOTELY close to you until you've been diagnosed as a HEALTHY HUMAN BEING BY SEVERAL OF JAPAN'S BEST DOCTORS.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

he probably shows the least emotion from everyone else

but he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his heart flutter

just a little bit

he hands you a tissue and asks if you need water as well

HE'S?@(#?# TAKING CARE(@?#( OF YOU!?(#? RAAAAAAAHHHGHGGHHHH

useful for the future

when you two get married, yakno LOL

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[webslingingslasher]

if trouble needed peter during the breakup do you think she’d still be able to call?

yes. and i will now expand, thank u.

peter stares down at his phone, it's not that he's against answering, it's that he doesn't think you meant to call him. or maybe you're drunk and want to berate him.

either way he'd hear your voice and that would be really nice.

'hello?'

'hey.'

okay, you meant to call him. you don't sound drunk, you sound sad.

'everything okay?'

a slight muffle, you switch ears. 'no, not really. i'm lost.'

'on what?' you breathe out a laugh, peter smiles.

'no, actually lost. i was... i'm sorry, i don't mean to hit you where it hurts but i was out with this guy and he ditched me and i have no fucking idea where i am and my phone's about to die.'

peter's quiet, he's all you have right now.

'you're my only hope, obi-wan.' a cheap shot at help, peter appreciates the effort.

'it's- help me, obi-wan kenobi, you're my only hope.'

your turn to smile. 'close enough.'

peter slowly moves around, patting down his pockets to make sure he has everything. 'it's late, trouble. why were you ditched?'

you laugh, but it's not funny. 'you know, it sucks to say that you're the only guy that never threw a temper tantrum when i didn't wanna fuck.'

ouch, a slight sting. it feels better to know it didn't happen, painful to think it could. 'at least i was good at something.'

'well... you weren't terrible at the sex either. you were good enough you scared me from getting it anywhere else, don't know if you can say the same.'

peter closes his eyes when he breathes in, you haven't hooked up with anyone else either. 'if you're asking, no, i haven't hooked up with anyone.'

'i didn't ask.' ah, that's what peter was waiting for. the bait of a question, to turn around and pretend you didn't care what the answer was. peter knows you're just as relieved that he hasn't either.

'where am i going, trouble?' you give him street names, his heart stutters. it's far, it's late, and it's definitely not safe.

'you're outside? nowhere for you to go?'

'when i say ditched, i mean it. if it wasn't so weird i'd ask you to kick his ass.' peter kind of wants you to ask, he'd do it gladly. and half of it wouldn't even be because he left you hanging.

'how much battery do you have left?' a brief pause, you're checking.

'three percent.'

peter hates what he's about to say, but hates the idea of you with a dead phone even more. 'okay, hang up and i'll come find you.' for a second he thinks you did, until you push out the real reason you called him.

'i'm scared.' so you called him, your protector, your safety blanket.

'i'm coming, i promise.' he's already out of the house, walking one half of the way and he'll cut his time in half by swinging the rest. 'ten minutes, maybe less. i might even break out a light jog for you.'

you look around, there's no one. it feels even more eerie, you're still on three percent. 'do i really have to hang up?' leaving out the 'i need to hear your voice to make everything okay.'

'i want you to save what you have, just in case.'

'okay.' it's not, you can feel your chest tighten and the urge to cry. everything sucks and you just really want peter which somehow makes things simultaneously worse and better.

'hey, peter?' you think you'll regret it.

'yeah?'

'can i spend the night?' you count the seconds. two.

'yeah, of course. always. anytime, you know that.'

you smile, he's still your peter. 'thank you. and thanks for coming to save me.'

'it's kind of my job, some even call me a hero.'

'okay, obi-wan.'

'more like spider-man.'

'oh, you're so full of yourself. you wish you were spider-man.'

peter kisses his teeth, 'no, i really am.'

'then spider-man better come save me in five minutes, otherwise what's the point?'

'oh? is that the way i win you back?'

it's not so jokey anymore, in fact peter thinks your phone died. but no, still connected. before he can say that he wasn't thinking and that he's sorry and he was joking you answer him.

'i don't think it would hurt.' 

[fastcardotmp3]

future!steddie; long haul trucker Eddie; firefighter Steve ~1k words

It makes sense to Eddie, an obvious out when his world's gone to shit and he has to get away, that his escape route from Indiana is the same job his uncle left to settle down there and raise a kid with nowhere else to go.

Driving long haul means there's no one looking that close at a face that made it to the national news during his week on the run. It means living on the move, never stopping long enough to get stuck anywhere.

It means freedom.

It means loneliness.

He calls Wayne twice a week, coins in pay phones at rest stops while he's waiting for his hair to dry post-public shower, and that's enough for him.

Wayne has always been enough for him, and it would be hurtful to suggest otherwise; it would be disrespectful to the life Wayne helped him build, keeps helping him build with all that faith that had him never doubting an innocence questioned by everyone else in that God-forsaken town.

Twice a week. It's the only phone number he knows by heart.

Twice a week for weeks and then months and then years, driving cross-country and back again, it's freedom. He keeps telling himself it's freedom, that it's good, that he doesn't need anything more than that.

But driving long haul means there's a lot of time for thinking.

It means a lot of time for collecting thoughts up together and creating new meaning entirely.

It means that by the time he's twenty-one and twenty-five and thirty that he has tape after tape after tape where he's collected those thoughts aloud in the rumbling loud silence of an overnight drive.

Thoughts like who would I be if I'd stuck around? and thoughts like will they understand that this time running saved my life? and thoughts like I miss them, am I allowed to miss them, am I allowed to love them without ever really knowing them?

It means that when he stops for all but the first time in ten years, coming home to Wayne to find that Forest Hills is home to a couple more familiar faces than he expected, there's space for his words. His endless, looping thoughts.

Steve's got his own trailer these days, brings in Wayne's mail for him on the mornings he comes home from the night shift at the fire station and stays for coffee.

Steve's there across the way when Eddie drives up in a new-used flatbed truck he'd bought with his final paycheck on the day he hung up his hat and decided he'd been gone long enough.

Steve's there in stories Wayne only begins telling now that Eddie is home, endless retellings of a brand-new man who became a friend during a time when the name Munson was still a dangerous thing to carry.

Steve's there when Eddie starts transcribing all his dictated notes into something resembling narrative and character and prose and Eddie doesn't know the guy who jumped headfirst into another dimension, hasn't spoken to him since that week that forced Eddie to flee in the first place, but maybe he doesn't need to have those years under his belt.

Maybe it doesn't matter if Eddie knows a nineteen-year-old Steve Harrington, because he knows the twenty-nine-year-old one starting a matter of hours after he comes crawling back home, knows this grown and steady one who looked after Wayne when Eddie had to leave.

This Steve isn't stuck despite still living in the town that tried to kill him. He doesn't seem lost or without purpose.

He lives a simple life, working at the Hawkins FD and feeding stray dogs with the bowls he leaves out beside his porch. Robin comes and goes, seemingly dating her way through the Midwest's entire sapphic population and sleeping on Steve's couch in between live-in girlfriends.

There are old friends on the phone at near constant intervals in Steve's home, and there's that phone being pressed to Eddie's ear without giving him the chance to be terrified about what Erica or Dustin or Max might say to the guy who hasn't allowed anyone but Wayne access to him for a decade, what he might say back after so many years without proper human socialization.

Eddie has been moving for so long, stayed moving through the bulk of his acceptance of everything that happened to him, but there's a different sort of quiet here than what he found on the road, stillness, amongst the casual chaos.

There's similarities to life on his rig, sure, a certain routine to the comings and goings, only Eddie isn't hiding anymore and he's not thumbing through the same staticky stations anymore and he's not lonely anymore.

He doesn't know how to sit still yet, not really, but he stays up all night handwriting poetry on paper he once spoke onto tape on the porch of his uncle's trailer and sometimes when Steve gets home after dark, he'll sit with him.

He'll eat his dinner still in uniform and listen to the scratch of Eddie's pen and Eddie doesn't know him, Steve Harrington, but he's getting to know his neighbor Steve.

Ten years down the line and he's becoming solid right there in front of Eddie's eyes, becoming real, becoming something that can't possibly fit onto the tapes filled with nonsense and insights alike.

"You're never what I think you're going to be," Eddie admits to him one morning over coffee before Wayne or Robin have risen, before the phone has begun to ring, before the world wakes up and brings Eddie's life along with it, ready or not.

Steve smiles at him, amused and curious and cocky in the way he responds, "you're exactly who Wayne said you are."

It's an admission all its own, that Steve has thought about Eddie, spoken about him, in the time they've spent apart, even if it was only because he'd dared to keep Wayne Munson's company.

It's still an admission though, that in his absence, in his loneliness out on the road, Eddie wasn't forgotten by the watercolor skies over Hawkins, Indiana.

"Yeah?" Eddie breathes in those very skies, "and what did Wayne say I'd be?"

Ten years down the line and suddenly it makes sense to Eddie.

It makes sense in the morning dew on the lawn; it makes sense in the too-strong Harrington-brewed coffee; it makes sense in the wheels of his truck on a road that does end, eventually, and it makes sense in the collected thoughts and feelings, fears and dreams that he had to go away to decipher.

The freedom was in leaving, sure, but this? The coming home to Wayne and this porch and the man who lives across the way?

"Stick around, Munson," Steve Harrington dares on a morning like any other, "and maybe I'll just tell you."

Well. As it turns out, this might be the thing that saves him.

[chatsukimi]

POV. STREATRACER!TOJI asks to borrow your last name.

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･

“What do you mean you don’t want your last name printed on your uniform?”

Toji, your trust fund racer and favourite bet, shrugs. “Already said, I won’t race with the name Zen’in.”

You sit down at your desk. It’s after school, and you and the spoiled soon-to-be college reject are sitting in the classroom.

You throw your hands up. “But why? What’s bad about Zen’in?”

“Everything,” he deadpans.

Staring at the guy for a flat five seconds, you realise he won’t change his mind, or explain himself, which you should have expected from a guy going broke despite his millionaire family.

Toji props himself up on the desk beside yours, leaning on his knees as though thinking. A few seconds pass.

He offers, “why don’t I use yours?”

“My what?”

“Your last name,” he suggests, breezing through the prospect at horrifying speed. “It works. You’re sponsoring me anyways.”

You blink twice. Delayed reaction.

“What?!” you squeak out.

Toji smirks, leaning on his palm watching you. “What?” he repeats, playing innocent. He sports a smug look in his green eyes and even bothers to scan your notebook splayed out on your desk, reading your last name out loud to himself. “Nice.”

No. Not nice. They’ll assume you're- you're- your cheeks heat up.

He looks at you, bearing a smile that's all teeth. 'We could be cousins.'

The guy even dares to pat you on the shoulder at that. You shake him off. No one at the race would believe you two are related.

"No."

'No?' he echoes, cocking his head, tempting you to speak. 'What could we be then?'

"We can be... can be..." you think to yourself, before noticing his hands landing on your shoulder, massaging them like a habit. He's sauntered over from his chair.

Comforting, but still...

Bad habit.

Your heart stutters.

Baaad habit.

"Hm?" He chuckles when he sees you realise. "What would we be?"

You swallow, the small proximity between the two of you taking your mind on a field trip; him standing behind your seat and you, fidgeting your hands under the desk like crazy.

"Nothing."

He raises an eyebrow.

"I don't think taking your last name means nothing," he presses, serious.

How is he saying this with such a straight face? You're looking anywhere in the classroom but Toji, hoping he might just drop the subject. What's wrong with his last name anyways? What is he even insinuating? Does he really-

"I don't think I'll get tired of that face in ten years' time," he states.

Toji Zen'in is a blunt guy. When he said he hates his last name, he meant it. When he says he wants yours, well, no one's calling this guy a liar, are they?

It's been a while since you started sponsoring his races, and he's grown accustomed to your face in the stands. Always too far away, though. You always have on that dispassionate expression as a gambler, as though he's one of the rest.

For once, he cannot be just one of the rest.

“I'm... not sure what you mean." Your eyes move to the sunset outside, ignoring the way you bite your lip.

He studies your face for a minute before smirking again. "You're dabbling in illegal motorsports and can't look me in the eye."

You wince.

You murmur, "well then maybe you should say directly what you mean then."

You're so cute like this, pretending you don't like him too.

He walks around the table to face you properly. All of a sudden you can imagine your name on his back as he gets into the vehicle to race, as the stands to hear the cheers of the crowd. He'd wear it well. He coughs to get your attention.

“I’m saying.” He places his hands on his hips, shrugging as he goes. “Maybe let's be married. Just one day.”

Only, he doesn't intend for it to be one day. He wants you to remember your last name on him, keep the moment in your head; he'll wear it better than anyone else.

…

It is at that moment when the times come out and the trophies are awarded that he drapes his arm around your waist. The wink he throws your way, accomplice. Spectators ask what's his name.

And this is the moment you become more than his financier or the bets you place on him to win.

He speaks it into the microphone, proud for the stadium, the world. to hear.

And this is the moment you glance up at him with more than just a shallow smile, saying 'congrats'.

The word reverberates over the race track in a powerful wave.

He spoke into the microphone and the name is yours.

pt. 1

[vivwritesfics]

This'll Be The Day That I Die

Chapter One - John B's Cousin

JJ didn't think he'd ever see her again. It had been ten years since she left and he'd never stopped hating her for leaving. When she returns he wants nothing to do with her, not until somebody else wants her. That somebody else just so happens to be Rafe Cameron

JJ Maybank X Reader, somewhat Rafe Cameron X Reader

1.7K

Okay so i watched season one when it first came out, never finished season two, but I'm back on my JJ shit with a... series (fuck i can't stop myself from starting series shit)

Chapter Two

When the twinkie pulled up to the Château, something wasn't right. The door was open and laundry was hanging outside to dry. It certainly wasn't the way the Pogues left it.

Pressing his finger to his lips, John B. climbed out of the van. He helped Sarah out and quietly pushed the door shut, while JJ, Kiara and Pope did the same in the back.

They had no kind of weapon, nothing to defend themselves if there really was an attacker. So, John B. did the one thing he could think of and grabbed a rather large stick.

He walked into his own house, defensively standing in front of his friends. He held his finger to his lips once again as they all walked forward.

There were footsteps. John B. raised the stick, ready to swing.

But, he didn't need to swing it. Not when he saw the person who had broken into his house. Well, did it count as breaking in if they had a key of their own? "Y/N?" He called, dropping the stick.

His cousin stood in the kitchen, looking through the cupboards and taken a note of everything they had. Or, rather, everything they needed. She whipped herself around and placed her notebook on the kitchen counter. "John!" She called and walked towards him. "Where the hell is my dad?" She asked and opened her arms.

But John B. was still in some amount of shock. He hadn't seen his cousin in, well, years. Just seven years ago she'd left the Outer Banks to live with her mother after her parents had split up. "What're you doing here?" He asked, still unable to process it.

She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. But her smile wasn't all there, wasn't quite as wide as John B. expected to see. "Doesn't matter," she mumbled. "Have you seen my dad anywhere?" She asked.

"He, uh, left," John B. answered honestly.

For a second, she was still. The chateau was where she'd been living before she left with her mother, with John B. and his father. They'd been a little family unit back then. She must've known about John B's fathers disappearance, which is why she wasn't asking.

The chateau wasn't the best place for four people to live. That was why she had left in the first place, because there just wasn't enough space for her. "I'm gonna set myself up in my dad's old room," she said and picked her bags up from the floor. "Maybe after you can introduce me to your friends?" She asked, mainly focusing on Sarah.

The other three behind him she recognised. Pope and JJ. Pope who was always one of the smartest people they knew, and JJ. It was hard to forget someone like JJ. He was the epitome of chaos, even when they were ten.

John B. nodded his head. That was usually JJ's room, but it was her home as much as John B's. So what was his was hers.

The room was a state. She didn't know when her father had left, or when big John had disappeared, but the room had definitely been lived in, and recently. She pulled the comforter back from the bed and let out something of a gasp.

"Why the fuck is there a cum stain on the bed?" She cried as she left the room, looking towards John B. and his friends.

JJ Maybank couldn't hide his smirk as he adjusted his hat on his head.

She made quick work of changing the bed, placing the dirtied sheets in the the hamper. When she went to unpack her things, there were already clothes in the drawers. They weren't her fathers, and they weren't big John's. A bunch of shirts with no sleeves.

She placed the unfamiliar clothes into a pile and unpacked her own things. It was easy work, there wasn't a lot that she had. But what she had have was nice, she wasn't exactly going to look like a Pogue.

When she left her room, it was like all of the Pogues were waiting around for her. They sat on the pull out sofa, some of them drinking, some of them sat waiting for her. Actually, JJ was drinking, the rest of them were waiting for her.

As uncomfortable was it was, she walked through to the kitchen and picked up her notebook once again. "I, uh, looked through the cupboards," she said to her cousin, but by the way all of the Pogues were looking at her, she definitely wasn't just speaking to him. "We need a fuckload of groceries. Do you think you can take me in the twinkie?"

"Can't you drive?" JJ piped up for the first time as he lifted his blunt to his lips.

Her eyes locked onto him, levelling him with a glare. "No, JJ. I can't drive," she spat back. "Besides, it's not my van."

"I can take you," Pope said suddenly. "It's no big deal."

She gave Pope a smile and shoved her notebook into the back pocket of her shirts. "Perfect," she said as JJ tossed Pope the keys.

They set out of the chateau, but she could still feel eyes on her. The place she had once known to be her home didn't feel very much like her home anymore.

"I'm surprised you remember us," said Pope as they pulled away from the chateau. "It's been, what, ten years?"

"Almost," she answered, leaning against the window. "I don't think I could properly remember living here without remembering you guys." She let out a breath, watching her old neighbourhood go past. "I don't know who the girl is, though."

Pope gave her a quick glance. "You don't remember Kie?"

She snorted and shook her head. "Not Kie," she mumbled, pulling her notebook from the back pocket of her shorts. "The other girl, who is she?"

"Oh, her. That's Sarah, Sarah Cameron," he answered.

But still, she frowned. "Is that name supposed to mean anything to me?"

Pope let out a laugh. "You don't remember the Cameron's? The richest people on the Island?" He asked and she shook her head. "How about her brother, Rafe?"

"The name rings a bell," she confessed. But still, she couldn't put a face to the name.

They pulled up to the store and she climbed out of the van. "Thanks," she said. "You don't have to come with me."

"I'll wait here," he said and pulled out his phone. But, as she walked away, Pope pushed open the door to the twinkie once more. "I feel so bad for saying this," he called. "But you might wanna get enough food for all of us. Or, at least you, John B. and JJ, since he practically lives there," he said.

She looked back down at her list and nodded her head. As she walked towards the store, she realised something. If JJ had been living in her room, then... that was his cum stain on the bed. A shiver ran down her spine.

***

"Yeah, I remember her," JJ answered as he made himself a sandwich. The bread was mouldy, but he didn't much care. What JJ remembered most was the day that she left, when she disappeared. But that wasn't what John B. had asked, so he kept it short.

She had been a Pogue through and through back then, but she'd changed. JJ hadn't recognised her, not until John B. had said her name. She wouldn't fit in with them, not now.

"She got out," John B. muttered as he stood beside him. "She left the island. Why did she come back?"

JJ shrugged his shoulders. He grabbed his mouldy sandwich, shoved it into his mouth and walked out to the porch. "Just ask her, man," he said and sat down, playing with the lighter he kept in his pockets.

JJ didn't about her. He didn't care about why she had left, didn't care why she was back. Why should be care about her when she was the one that had left?

He watched as the twinkie pulled up in front of the chateau. Pope parked up and she climbed out, sliding open the door to grab the brown paper bags from the back. Pope did the same, carrying the bags she couldn't carry.

"Groceries," she mumbled as she walked past JJ, into the house.

He didn't say anything. Did she really not remember what things were like before she left? Did she really not realise that he wasn't going to speak to her?

She walked past him and dumped her things on the kitchen counter. As soon as she did, John B. helped her to unpack everything, placing it into the cupboards.

As soon as they were done, John B. gave an awkward smile and patted his pockets. He looked around the chateau as she made herself something to eat. "Oh!" He said and strode across the chateau, to where Sarah was sitting. He grabbed a hold of his girlfriend and pulled her to her feet. "This is Sarah, my girlfriend," he said and Sarah sent her a polite wave.

She waved back as she made herself a not mouldy sandwich. The mouldy bread had been tossed in the bin (something that JJ would later protest, even though he really had no reason to).

"I think I'll turn in," she said awkwardly as she took her plate to her room. Kie and Sarah watched her. They tried not to wear the same judgemental expression, but it was the middle of the afternoon, far too early for her to be sleeping

But, as she walked past him, John B grabbed her arm. "Hey, you only just got here," he said and she desperately looked towards her bedroom. "Let us properly welcome you back to the Outer Banks," he said.

"What're you thinking?" She asked, somewhat exasperatedly.

That was where John B. smirked. "Kegger."

"Kegger?" She asked, with a frown.

He nodded. "Kegger."

Permanent Taglist: @urfavnoirette

[brbsoulnomming]

Static

Steve's never certain if he hates walking through the crowds after a match or not. Sometimes, when he walks back to his flat, all bloody and bruised and exhausted, the press of so many other people feels oppressive. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist, that he's in a little bubble of his own space and nothing can touch him. But sometimes, even though there's an edge of pain in every step, the bustle of people reminds him of why he does this, reminds him of everyone he's trying to protect and everything he wants to be able to keep on going exactly as it is.

Today is not a hates day.

Today the crowds feel warm and full of energy, and he basks in it, lets the feel of so much life wash over him.

Today he buys sunflowers at his favorite florist, listening to the soft hum of bees he can hear in the back of their shop. Today he asks if they have any honey, tucks a bottle of it into his pocket and sucks on a piece of the soft, sticky candy that Mrs. Anderson makes from it. The augment he keeps for show chimes softly in his ear, alerting him that funds have been withdrawn from his arena account. He doesn't know how much, but it doesn't matter. He trusts Mrs. Anderson enough not to rip him off, and anyway, he makes more than enough from his fights to get anything he wants.

It'd be enough to get out of this place ten times over, if the credits Creel gave his gladiators were good anywhere else but the citydome he runs.

Mrs. Anderson wraps up his flowers for him, and Steve gives her a warm smile when she gives him an extra one for his girl.

He can't remember if she thinks his girl is Robin, or Nancy, or Max, or Erica, or El, but it doesn't really matter.

They're all his girls, and he'd do absolutely anything at all to give them the world.

He settles the bouquet under his arms, counts the flowers - there's enough to give each of them two, but he knows he won't see them in person any time soon.

It's been quiet enough that he might have suggested a meet up, but there's… something that stops him. Steve doesn't know what it is, can't put words to what he's picked up on, but it settles heavy in the pit of his stomach. He's learned the hard way to listen to it.

They can't risk it.

Static blares in his mind as he opens his communication link, feeling out for who's listening in and smiling to himself when he senses El.

El's favorites are sunflowers, same as him. They're Max's favorites, too, but only because he knows they remind her of El.

‘Sunflowers!’ El says immediately, delighted.

‘Fresh cut,’ he tells her. ‘Want to smell?’

Her presence is suddenly much stronger in his mind, and he dutifully leans in to pull in a deep breath, holds it for a few moments, then lets the honey candy in his mouth settle right over his tongue.

There's a pleased little sigh, a soft touch of gratitude, then she withdraws.

‘When's your next match?’ Lucas asks.

‘In two days,’ Steve replies.

There's no response, not even a wordless one, but Steve knows Lucas well enough to tell that he's disappointed. Two days isn't enough time for him to sneak out, let alone have a Creel sanctioned vacation.

‘It's not the same without you here.’ Dustin's voice is colored with disappointment, too, and Steve can feel the sharpness of what he isn't saying.

‘I know, buddy. I miss you guys, too.’

He wishes he could tell them that it wouldn't be much longer. Steve's got plenty on Henry Creel, more than enough to have made this mission a success already, but they're never going to get an opportunity like this again.

He needs to stay as long as possible.

‘I'll ask for a vacation after my next couple of matches. How did your collaboration with Suzie go?’

Steve listens to the Party over the comm links for a little while longer, just to keep his own longing for home at bay, until he gets out of the busy part of the citydome and has to say goodbye.

His head goes silent as he closes his comm link, and he's alone once more - aside from the ever present trace of Robin, all wrapped up in his neural pathways that are more circuits than synapses these days, but she doesn't count. She's as much a part of him as his own thoughts are.

Tension prickles at the back of his neck when he picks up on footsteps approaching, more purposeful than anyone else passing by. Sure enough, someone falls into step with him, and his head jerks over - then relaxes.

“My liege,” Munson greets, throwing a grin at him.

Steve rolls his eyes. “What do you want?”

He didn't think it was possible, but Munson's smile widens even more.

“To celebrate!” he announces, arms spread as though gesturing to the wide expanse of celebratory pleasures to be had around them.

Which are exactly none, considering Steve'd already passed the pleasure district. He raises one eyebrow to convey just that.

Munson is undeterred.

“Come on, your Majesty,” he cajoles. “Look at you! First time in weeks that a gladiator walked away from a match with barely a scratch on them! Surely such a transcendent performance from the King is worthy of deigning to mingle with the Freak?”

Steve's going to say yes, he already knows he is, but he makes him wait a little longer, making a big show of sighing and crossing his arms and looking him up and down.

It's then that he sees it.

If Steve was everything he was pretending to be and nothing more, he never would have picked up on anything. There's nothing in Munson's demeanor that is any different from the handful of other times they've caught up with each other for a drink after a match.

It's only because his scans pick up so much more that he detects the unsteady beat of Munson's heart, how he holds himself ready the same way he does in the arena.

And the gun tucked in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

Right.

Looks like he's out of time here, then.

If Steve's honest, he's a little surprised that it's Munson. The rivalry between the Freak and the King is all for show in the arena - not like it is between him and Billy Hargrove or between Munson and Jason “the Prophet” Carver.

If Steve's even more honest, he's disappointed, in more ways than he can spend time sorting through right now.

“Fine,” he says, letting himself sound long suffering. “Where are we going? I'll swing by home to drop these off and meet you there.”

Something tense but otherwise unreadable flickers behind Munson's eyes, and Steve wonders if he's been ordered not to allow him to leave his sight. He doesn't have a choice, though - it's a reasonable request, exactly what Steve would have said if he hadn't caught on, and his only other option is -

“Allow me to accompany you,” Munson says, bowing low in a show of gallantry.

It's a risk.

Steve's never let another gladiator come to his flat before, and there's very little chance that he'd let Munson come now, even if he didn't realize what Munson's true intentions were. He wonders what the back up plan is if he says no, wonders if Munson will do it right here in the open.

“Why?” Steve asks, unable to stop himself from pushing, even though he knows it's a bad idea.

Munson peeks up from his bow, flutters his lashes, all playful exaggeration. “And risk you backing out and abandoning the likes of little ole me?”

“Never backed out before after I've said yes,” Steve points out, digging in. Pushing harder. “Unless you have a reason for inviting yourself over? Maybe a different kind of celebration in mind?”

Munson tips his head back down, but Steve's scanner can pick up the way he swallows, harsh and rough. “Yeah.” It's flat and hollow, and it immediately sounds wrong to Steve's ears. “Yeah, maybe I had something different in mind.”

That's -

Not what Steve was expecting.

Would he, Steve wonders? Would Munson play that card, even though he clearly doesn't want to, even though he kind of sounds like he hates himself a little for it?

“Hey,” Steve says, unbidden. “I'm just messing with you, man. It's fine, you can come with me to drop them off.”

Steve might be well aware that he's going to have to kill Munson, but he doesn't want to be cruel about it.

Munson straightens, his usual smile back on his face, and he checks his shoulder into Steve's hard enough that it stings a little. “Asshole,” he says.

“You're the one who hangs out with me,” Steve replies.

The crowd thins even more as they move into the residential blocks. They're not going in the direction of Steve's flat - but they are going in a direction that he could live in, and it's not like Munson knows where he actually stays. It's not like Munson knows that Steve's already activated his comm link and told the Party his cover's been blown, and that he has to get out of the citydome tonight.

“Hey, Munson?” Steve asks, slowing to a stop.

Munson hums, looking over at him with a brow raised in question.

Steve pulls the extra sunflower that Mrs. Anderson had given him free from the bouquet, tucks it into the front pocket of Munson's jacket.

“I really am sorry about before, I shouldn't have messed with you like that,” he says.

He's sorry about a lot more than that, but this is what he's got.

Munson's lips twist down, and he sighs as he pushes Steve's hands away - though he leaves the sunflower there.

“Steve,” he says, soft and filled with something like regret.

Nothing follows it.

There's a beat where they look at each other, and Steve thinks -

And then there's the sound of harsh laughter, boots dropping onto the ground as someone swings down from one of the platforms overhead.

“King Steve,” Hargrove drawls. “Sweet on the Freak. You're really making it easy to knock you off that throne, aren't you?”

Shit.

Steve's in worse trouble than he thought.

He steps back automatically, shooting a betrayed little look over at Munson - it's one thing for Munson to be planning on killing him, it's another for him to lead Hargrove to him.

But Munson looks surprised, and then furious, and Steve realizes -

Hargrove isn't here for Steve. Or at least, not just for Steve.

“I told Creel you couldn't do it,” Hargrove tells Munson, voice conversational. “You're all bark and no bite, aren't you?”

“Get the fuck out of here, Hargrove,” Munson says tersely, teeth gritted.

“No can do, Junior,” Hargrove replies. “I have to clean up your mess.”

“You set me up,” Munson bites out. “This was never going to be a fair chance, was it?”

Hargrove shrugs, unconcerned. “You want me to drag you back to Creel to explain yourself, or should I just put you out of your misery here?”

The thing is, Steve thinks Munson would have done it before Hargrove showed up. Steve and Munson are friends, maybe, but loyalty to other gladiators only goes so far, and Creel keeps them all under a heavy thumb. It wouldn't have been anything personal - it would have been just what Munson had to do to survive in this place.

The thing is, Steve knows he would have put a bullet in Munson's brain right here. It would have destroyed a piece of him to do it, he can acknowledge that now, but he would have done it without hesitation if it meant keeping the resistance in general - and the Party in specific - safe.

The thing is, even if Hargrove does kill Steve - even if Munson kills Steve, even if he manages to kill Hargrove before he can report back to Creel - Munson is finished, now. Unfair or not, he's failed the test. There's no going back, not if Creel doesn't trust him, and Steve knows Munson's smart enough to have realized that.

The thing is, if Creel suspected Munson enough to have Hargrove follow him to make sure he got the job done, there must be a reason why, and Steve wants to know it.

‘Change of plans,’ he tells Robin, even though he can already feel her at the back of his mind like fingertips ghosting through his hair, downloading his memories until she's caught up. She already knows exactly what he's going to do.

The piece of him that would have died with Eddie Munson finally settles into place, the circuitry that makes up more of him than he usually lets on humming softly in his veins as it adjusts to account for it.

Steve swings around to stand in front of Eddie, and plants his feet.

“If you want him,” he says, and he can hear the echo of it through the static of his communication link, calm and determined.

Steve's never felt more steady than he does when he's standing between a looming threat and one of the people who've become part of the very core of him.

“You'll have to go through me.”

Hargrove sneers at him. “You can barely hold your own against me in the arena.”

“The arena’s all show.” Steve laughs, a little mean. “You think I'm sitting here with prototype Harrington augments and all they've got is what you've seen?”

He's not sure why he's keeping up the pretense that he's nothing more than what he seems. If Creel is sending people to kill him, he has to know Steve's part of the Party. But it's ingrained in him, somehow, to protect them until his last breath, whether it's artificial or not.

The question makes Hargrove scoff, and Steve swings at him.

Hargrove lets it hit, laughs at him again with blood dripping from his mouth, and then -

They've fought in the arena, before. Not often, because they're brutal with each other, and because Creel knows their matches always draw a massive crowd and likes to drag out the tension, keep the audience wanting more.

This is nothing like that.

Despite their brutality, there's an element of safety in arena matches. The punishment for killing one of Creel's gladiators is harsh and swift, and so they're almost never in any real danger.

This is - Steve can see the hatred in Hargrove's eyes, same as he always does, but now there's intent, now Hargrove's own augments have been let loose, and there's more power behind every punch than Steve's ever felt before.

Steve's starting to think the only way he can beat Hargrove is to really let himself go, and it makes his heart quicken, makes the dread in his chest coil tighter and tighter - makes Robin even more present in his mind, makes her whisper ‘you have to, it's okay, I'm here, I won't let you lose yourself,’ -

Until a shot rings out, clipping Hargrove on the shoulder.

It's not that Steve forgot Eddie.

It's just that he kind of assumed that Eddie would run off after Steve took his first swing at Hargrove. It'd been part of the reason that he pulled Hargrove's attention onto himself in the first place.

The expression on Hargrove's face says that he'd assumed the same thing, and he shoots a venomous look over at Eddie.

“Who's cleaning up messes now?” Eddie asks.

Hargrove snarls, drawing his own gun on Eddie, and -

Steve's too close for Eddie to get a clear shot at Hargrove, and by now he's starting to think that Eddie won't take the shot if it means he'll have to shoot through Steve, but he knows damn well Hargrove won't have the same reservations.

‘Robin,’ Steve says, even though she's already there, flooding his mind until she's all he can feel.

He can't lose himself when he does this if he's so much her that they can't separate each other out.

Steve lets go.

Electricity flares under his skin, crackling and humming, and when he grabs Hargrove's hand it immediately shorts out his gun. It flows out - and out and out and out and out, overloading the circuitry of Hargrove’s augment and threatening to burn it through completely if it keeps going, and he needs to -

He needs to -

‘Stop.’

Steve can't tell if it's Robin's voice or his, but it doesn't matter.

It's enough to get him to pull himself back. He lets go of Hargrove, breathing heavily as he shuts himself down. Steve's expecting to have to fight with himself, with the way the power in him wants an outlet, but it simmers back down with little more than a whisper. It's easier than it's ever been before, and he can feel Robin's pride whispering through him.

Steve looks up, just in time to see Eddie pointing his gun at Hargrove.

“Don't,” Steve says, stepping between Eddie and Hargrove.

It isn't the same as when he stood between them last time.

For one, Billy Hargrove isn't exactly conscious. For another - Steve doesn't care about Hargrove himself, not the way every part of his being screamed at him to protect Eddie. The only reason Steve's standing here at all is for Max.

“He'll tell Creel,” Eddie says. “You know if he's still alive, if he gets back to him, we're finished.”

“We're finished here either way,” Steve points out. “And Billy Hargrove isn't our decision to make. It belongs to someone else.”

Eddie looks at him searchingly, for a long moment. “If not you, then who?”

It's a fair demand.

As far as the general public knows, as far as Henry Creel knows - the rivalry between Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington is as intimate as it is intense. Steve would be lying if he pretended like he didn't know that there was a fan favorite theory that there was something more behind their fights.

But it's never been true. Steve's only ever hated Hargrove for what he did to Lucas and Max.

“Come with me,” Steve says. “And I'll introduce you to her.”

Eddie's eyes are dark, unreadable.

Except -

Except.

Except Steve can read into them, can read hesitancy, longing, hope.

He reaches out, snags Eddie's hand, links their fingers together.

“Come with me,” Steve says again. “And I'll protect you.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, soft and almost surprised. “Okay.”

[hellfiremunsonn]

Behave. Joseph Quinn x Reader

Behave.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: bratting at your dom boyfriend at a public event... How do you think that’s going to end?

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, sub/brat!reader, dom!Joseph, dom and sub relationship, established relationship, swearing, dirty talk I guess? suggestive. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: thank u to @eddieschains for reading this through for me to make sure it wasn’t booty (ily and am kissing u on the mouth)

Wordcount: 1k

It's a fancy dinner party neither of you wanted to be at. Last minute, outside on a lovely patio and all though the view was beautiful you couldn't help but groan at the heat and humidity that clung to your skin, but Joseph promised he'd be there and he absolutely was not going to go without you. With his abrupt rise in the industry you'd gotten used to the events, and appearances, but you were still human, and sometimes you had to be a brat to get the attention you wanted from your boyfriend.

Joe loved it just as much as it drove him up the wall, but he'd never want anyone else. He loved seeing you go from that ridged and wound up bratty little shit to his soft, and pliable good girl who'd sit at his feet if he asked.

"Do we have to stay long?" You ask, not even ten minutes after arriving.

"Not too late, just a couple hours" he said while leading you to one of the small tables where Wes had waved him over.

You groan and roll your eyes, leaning into Joesphs hand on the small of your back, letting him basically push you forward to keep walking.

"Don't start with the attitude my love, I thought you were gunna be good for me tonight huh?" he said quietly as you approached the table. His side glance to you made your stomach flip, you did tell him you were going to be good... But you never said for how long.

You were good for most of the party, but after a few fruity cocktails you started to get a bit more bold, and a lot more whiney. After a fourth trip to the bar you returned to Josephs side, his arm instantly coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him.

"Where'd you run off to pretty girl?" he said into the skin of your temple, placing a small kiss there. You hummed, leaning up to give him a lazy smile, the alcohol making you feel warm and fuzzy, light with electricity.

Instead of verbally answering him you just hold up your cup to him with a smile, before setting it down onto the table. Except you didn't set it down, you placed it just on the edge, not enough to keep it balanced and it fell onto the floor with a splash and a crash. You flinch at the noise, along with the people around you, who look you up and down and then at who you're with before returning to their own conversations.

You pout looking down at your feet and huff your strappy heels no longer a good idea as the beverage now coats your feet. "My feet are going to get all sticky" You look up to see Joseph staring at you, the vein in his neck is bulging and you know you've started to get on his nerves. You felt a slight sense of accomplishment because thats exactly what you wanted but not how you wanted to get it.

"M'sorry Joe, I'll go fine someone to clean it up" you said turning to go find the first serve you could find, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Don't" he said with a firm grip on your arm while he pulled you back to him.

You furrowed your brows. "there's glass everywhere Joey someone could get hurt-"

"Should have thought about that before you decided to drink too much, breaking a rule like that when you told me you'd be good?" he tuts staring down at you.

It wasn't a hard rule, but a rule nonetheless. To not over drink, in fear of doing anything to jeopardizes your career, let alone Josephs. You didn't want some tabloid spewing lies about you or Joseph all because you drank a little too much.

"Joseph I'm fine" You roll your eyes. "I misjudged the distance of the table and I dropped the cup, I'm sorry, now let go of me so I can find a server"

"Behave" he warned again, letting you go.

"Yeah, yeah I heard you the first time" You rolled your eyes again before searching to find someone to take care of the glass. You heard Wes come back to the table and snicker at your response while you walked away.

Instead of returning to Joseph right away like you knew you should have, you went out front of the fancy venue, opting for a calm moment away from the party to have a smoke. You pulled out the packet of cigarettes from your small red purse, holding it between your lips before lighting it with the engraved metal lighter Joseph had gifted to you. You smiled fondly looking down at it in the palm of your hand, swiping your thumb across the embedded words.

"You supposed to wander off on your own?" Josephs voice was low in your ear making you jump and sputter on the smoke in your lungs. You go to turn but he holds you too him tightly by your hips, keeping your back to to his chest.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" you exclaimed, attempting to bring your cigarette back to your mouth when Josephs quick hand snatched it out of yours and into his own. Placing it between his lips and inhaling deeply, cheeks hollowing and his stomach concaving, instantly making you miss its warmth against your back.

"If you didn't keep on breaking my rules maybe I wouldn't have to" He exhaled, dropping the cigarette onto the ground next to you and crushing it under his shoe.

"I've not broken a single rule tonight and you know it" you said squirming slightly.

"No? Not a single rule?" He laughed, but it was humourless. "How many times have you rolled your eyes at me tonight hm? How many times did you talk back? How many drinks did we agree on you having?"

"Shit" you muttered. You really didn't think you had broken that many rules tonight, maybe a little bit excessive on the eye rolls, but you were needy and he couldn't give you the attention you wanted.

"I should bring you back in there, bend you over the nearest table and spank you in front of all those people" His hands slide up and down the sides of your body, causing goosebumps to cascade across every inch of your skin. "Show everyone how much of a bad girl you are, and how good you get for me" he snickered.

"Bet you'd like that though wouldn't you? Having everyone see who you belong to, who you let control you like this?"

You shuddered when his hand reached your jaw, tilting it sideways to catch a glimpse at your glassy eyes, just how he knew they'd be.

"You want your punishment here or do you want to wait till we're home?" he asked softly. As mean as he could be when you wanted him to it never stopped him from checking in.

"H-home please, wanna be good for you, only you, no one else, they don't get to see me like that, only you. Please?" You were begging, begging for a punishment in your shared home. Begging to prove to him that you were still his good girl, because that's all you wanted to be.

"Please can we go home now daddy?"

When your voice wobbled all soft and sickly sweet, he grabbed your hand and lead you to the car that was already waiting for you out front.

[noellawrites]

Involuntary Celibate - Yandere!Carmy Berzatto x reader

requested & also helped by @tryingtowritefanfics <3

summary: Carmy's been saving himself for you... but he's tired of waiting.

warnings: 18+, incel!Carmy, teasing, dub/non-con, forced breeding, rape

"Yo chef, can you stay late for prep?" Carmy asks as he passes behind you.

"Of course, chef!" you pipe, turning around and smiling at your boss.

He stole a glance at the sauce you were working on and cocked his head towards it.

"Go ahead, I need some feedback," you confess, handing him a spoon.

As his lips touch your creation and his eyes brighten just a bit, you can't help but blush. After a year of working for him, you'd developed quite a crush on the man.

"Excellent, chef. Just try adding a bit more honey," he offers, looking right into your eyes.

You thought about that interaction for the rest of your shift, even as everyone else left.

—

Now, it was past ten and only you and Carmy remain.

You sidle up to Carmy, leaning over the large metal table as he works on one of his drawings.

He looks over at you briefly, his mouth cracking into a small smile before turning back to his work.

Before you could stop yourself, you reach out and touch one of the tattoos on his left arm, the world inside the measuring cup.

"I love this one," you whisper, tracing the cup's thin lines.

Carmy immediately stops drawing. Unbeknownst to you, Richie's words from the past few weeks were echoing through his mind.

"C'mon 'cuz, why haven't you tapped that yet?" "Carm, she's obviously fuckin' obsessed with you." "Jesus 'cuz, you can't be a virgin forever." "If Mikey were here, he'd tell you how much of a loser you are."

Before you knew what was happening, Carmy grabs your arm with his right hand and pins your back against the table. Alarm bells ring through your head but you can't move, your body feels numb.

"Stop fuckin' teasin' me," Carmy grits, pressing his body against yours. You can feel his hard-on through his pants as it presses against your midsection.

You have no idea what else to do, so you lean up and press your lips against his. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he deepens the kiss, groaning and bucking against you.

You let out a loud moan as Carmy works his way down your neck with his mouth. All of a sudden, you feel his big hand attempting to tug your bottoms down. You reach down and grab his hand, but he slaps your hand in response.

"You've been teasing me for months, it's my fuckin' turn to take what belongs to me," he hisses, and you immediately start to feel your eyes water.

"C-Carm, please—" you start, but he cuts you off.

Carmy leans in, lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm done with your shit. I'm gonna knock you up and leave you beggin' for more."

"Carmy, I-I'm a virgin. Please don't do this to me!" you beg, still trying to push against him in vain. He has you trapped, no chance for escape.

"I'm a virgin, too. Been savin' myself for you, so we can lose it to each other. We can start our own family, leave our fucked up ones behind," he promises, and you can hear the strain in his voice. Probably a combination of his intense lust and deep desire to get you pregnant.

"Stop, please! I'm not ready to—" you try again, but Carmy cuts you off by clamping a hand over your mouth. With his other hand, he finishes pulling your pants and underwear down.

"You're so good, all wet for me, huh? Slutty women like you are always fuckin' teases," Carmy hisses, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.

You might've enjoyed this, following maybe four dates and a label and maybe a condom. But you clenched your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were anywhere else.

Anywhere but being cornered and raped by your boss while he tries to put his baby inside you, a little baby Berzatto blossoming inside your womb.

"Hmm—mphh!" you try to speak through Carmy's hand over your mouth. He was almost fully sheathed inside of you, groaning while rocking his hips into yours.

Your extreme discomfort shifted into throbbing pain as his cock breached your cervix. You couldn't stop the tears from filling your eyes as he fucked you harder, like a man on a mission.

Pain mixed with pleasure flooded your senses as Carmy groans, painting the walls of your cervix with his cum.

"Richie and Mikey'd be so fuckin' proud’a me," he says under his breath as he pulls out of you, immediately yanking your underwear back up to keep his fluids inside your pussy.

He un-clamps his hand from your mouth as he shuffles back into his black pants and buckles his belt.

“Why did you do this to me, Carmy?" you sniffle as his intense gaze meets your eyes.

"Because I love you. You're mine now, you'll never be with anyone else," he says, a bored expression on his face.

You can't hold back anymore. You burst into tears, a mixture of post-coital emotions and terror at the very real possibility of a baby inside you.

Carmy pulls you into his chest, holding you close to him as your tears soak through his white shirt.

"I love you so much," he whispers, and you cry even harder. You're never going to escape Carmy Berzatto, you know that now.