#It’ll still take me many many weeks though

[lilybug-02]

Terrible news 😔 lost a real one today.

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[prozach27]

.

[ataliagold]

you told me once that i'm selfish (and i kissed you hard, in the dark)

For @astrangersummer week 4 prompt 'outside'. Title from Letter to an Old Poet by boygenius.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1430

Tags: Established Steddie, minor angst, fluff, hand-holding, Steve just wants to go hiking but Eddie's not keen on the idea, until he is, despite a minor argument these boys are so soft for each other, slightly selfish Eddie but he apologizes, Eddie gets a cool stick

Summary: Steve is used to spending time doing what Eddie wants to do. On a hot summer afternoon, the tables are turned when Steve asks Eddie to go hiking with him and Eddie is...not so thrilled about it.

___

“A hike?”

“Yup.”

“You want to go…hiking?”

“Uh huh.”

“You want me to go hiking with you?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“…I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, we could do…something else. Go to the arcade! Catch a movie, get drunk by your pool…I can come up with many alternatives to hiking, big boy.”

“I want to go, it’s one I used to do often years ago. It’ll be fun, just try it. It’s summer, we should get outdoors, enjoy the sun.”

“I’m not really an outdoors kinda guy, Steve. I thought you knew that by now.”

Steve’s shoulders had slumped a little at that. He’d watched as Eddie screwed up his nose at Steve’s suggestion, as he shook his head vehemently, as he rolled his eyes a little at Steve’s insistence that it would be a nice way to spend their Sunday.

Eddie didn’t want to go. That was ok; Steve wouldn’t make him. It had been stupid to even ask him in the first place, he supposed – Eddie was right, it really wasn’t his sort of thing.

Except…Steve had spent long evenings watching Eddie and the kids playing their campaigns, had listened as best he could as Eddie rattled off ideas and suggestions to him for the next D&D session, had sat through the frankly terrible horror movies that Eddie was rapt with, always let him play his music in the car, shrugged it off good-naturedly when Eddie complained about his taste in music…

Steve been hoping maybe Eddie would try something that he enjoyed, just for a day.

He knew Eddie hated sport and practically any form of intentional exercise; hell, his boyfriend reminded him of that frequently, grumbling when Steve and Wayne were glued to a game on TV or when Steve was busy shooting hoops with Lucas. Usually, Steve didn’t care – he knew they had different interests, loved Eddie enough that it didn’t matter.

But sometimes, Eddie’s jibes about him being a jock or a philistine or uncultured just…stung a little, especially considering Steve never bit back with his own insults, had left those days long behind him.

“Yeah, ok,” Steve mumbled eventually. “I’ll just…I’ll ask Lucas or something.”

Eddie shook his head. “He’s at Mike’s this weekend.”

“Oh. Well…never mind, then.”

Eddie sat up, grabbing for Steve’s hand. Steve let him take it, but with little enthusiasm.

“We can do something else, though,” Eddie said brightly. “Wanna rent a couple of movies, get high? I’ve still got some of Argyle’s stuff left, we could…Steve?”

Steve’s hand had gone weak in Eddie’s, his gaze drifting downwards. “Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie shuffled closer, tilted his head to try and catch Steve’s eye. “Steeeeevie,” he hummed.

“What?” Steve said, snapping a little.

Eddie recoiled slightly. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Steve snatched his hand back, pushing off Eddie’s couch to stand up. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m gonna go for this hike, I’ll see you later.”

Eddie frowned, hopping up to block Steve’s path. “On your own?” he questioned.

“Well, you clearly don’t want to go, so…”

Eddie’s face softened. “Steve -”

“No, it’s fine. You hate the outdoors, you hate exercise, you hate…” Steve trailed off.

Eddie reached out, traced a hand across Steve’s cheek. “What, sweetheart?”

Steve sucked in a breath. “You hate everything I like,” he mumbled, not meeting Eddie’s eye.

Eddie’s eyes widened, realization crossing his face. “Stevie…I…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to go so badly. Let me just…I’ll get changed, and we’ll go, ok?”

“No, you don’t want to.”

“I do.”

Steve scoffed. “You don’t.”

Eddie nodded slightly, chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted eventually. “But…you do things you don’t want to do for me all the time, and I know I’m not…as good at doing that as you are. So, the afternoon is yours. You want to hike? We’ll hike. I can’t promise I won’t pass out halfway, but I’ll be there.”

Steve gave him a long look. “You’re sure? And you won’t complain?”

“Well…maybe a little.”

Steve rolled his eyes, waving a hand in frustration.

“Ok!” Eddie back-peddled. “Ok, I won’t. Just…I have one request.”

“What?”

“I want to carry a cool stick.”

*****

Eddie got his stick.

Steve led them on the wooded path that branched off from Lover’s Lake, that looped its way slowly up a hill to a lookout spot over the forest. Eddie traipsed along behind him, swatting at invisible orcs with his stick, occasionally skipping off to one side to pick up and present Steve with various stones and small rocks he found along the way, the ones he deemed pretty enough to gift to him.

Halfway up, despite sweating and breathing a little harder than he should be, (smoker’s lungs, he’d given Steve as an excuse) Eddie seemed to putting in a lot of effort for Steve.

“This is…kinda cool,” he admitted.

“Really?” Steve raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

Eddie nodded, whacked at a bush with his stick and grinned. “Yeah. At least it’s shady here too, it’s not so fucking hot.”

Steve smiled. “Told ya. Wait till we get to the top, too. I think you’ll like the view.”

“About that…how much steeper does it get?”

A short time later, and only one little moan from Eddie about the hill, and they broke through the trees and onto a rocky outcrop with a little bench seat. The trees sprawled out below them, shades of brown and burnt orange, Hawkins nestled off to one side.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed, bent over next to Steve with his hands on his knees as he got his breath back.

Steve, not puffed in the least, nodded in agreement. “It’s nice, huh?”

“It’s like…Lothlorien.”

“…sure,” Steve offered, having no idea what his boyfriend was talking about.

Eddie slumped down on the bench seat, fingers tracing over the initials carved everywhere into the old wood.

“You on here, Stevie?” he asked.

Steve nodded, dropping to his knees and searching the edge of the seat for a moment. There, etched permanently into the wood, were the weathered initials S.H.

“Here,” he said.

Eddie smiled, touched his fingers to the marks. Quietly, he scratched his own into the wood with a sharp stick, right next to Steve’s initials.

“Looks good,” Steve observed.

Eddie looked up at him, took his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…not taking enough interest in the things you like.”

Steve sighed, sat down beside him. “You don’t have to, Eds. I know you don’t like a lot of the things I do, it’s -”

“Don’t say it’s ok,” Eddie interrupted, holding his hand tighter. “I mean, maybe I don’t like sport and stuff. But you don’t like D&D, and I know you hate horror movies, but you don’t complain about it, and you always come along even if you don’t enjoy something.”

“I…I like spending time with you,” Steve said quietly.

“I know, and I love you for it.” Eddie’s free hand gripped the edge of the seat. “And…and I like spending time with you too, and I want to be able to do some things that you enjoy too, it’s only fair.”

“Well…did you enjoy this?” Steve asked, almost shyly.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, actually. Nearly had a heart attack near the top there, but aside from that…” he grinned as he pulled a small laugh from Steve. “I’d like to go again. Wherever you want to go, I’ll be there.”

“I’d like that, Eds.”

“Good.” Eddie dug around in his pocket for a moment, producing a smooth black stone and plopping it into Steve’s hand. “For you,” he said, smiling when Steve turned it over in his fingers.

“It’s cool, Eds. Thanks.”

Eddie’s smile was wider than the sun.

He leant in, kissed Steve long and slow under the fading July sun.

By the time they reached the car again, Steve’s pockets were laden with little stones that had caught Eddie’s eye along the path. Despite them weighing down his shorts, he couldn’t bear to toss any of them away – he’d find somewhere to put them in their room.

As Steve started the beamer, he was surprised to see Eddie eject the Metallica tape in the player and replace it with Steve’s well-loved Tears for Fears one.

He threw a surprised look at Eddie, who shrugged in return.

“It’s well overdue for your turn, sweetheart,” he murmured softly.

As the familiar notes of Head Over Heels spilled over them, Steve reached for Eddie’s hand.

He didn’t let go the whole way home.

___

[folkloresthings]

BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.

in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.

( charles leclerc x singer!au )

track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.

✩⡱ warnings: like one curse word

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yourusername baby’s too pretty to be put in the corner

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landonorris BARK BARK

user mother is mothering

sza i’m so in love with you it’s silly

charles_leclerc pretty indeed

⤷ user unhinged charles spotted

⤷ user he’s making moves people!!!

lewishamilton are y’all seeing what i’m seeing

yourusername added to their story!

TWITTER.

the pre—race buzz was electric in the ferrari garage, your phone pinging with messages beckoning you to the mercedes garage on the other end of the paddock. you knew lewis wanted to see you, he’d been the one to invite you to the race in the first place, but there was something pulling you to the room filled with red. someone.

“hello again,” your smile widened across your face as charles dodged past mechanics to find you by the wall. his decorated race suit adored his lean figure, but his head was still free of his helmet, despite the clock ticking closer to when he needed to be in the car.

that godforsaken smile of his mirrored your own, knees wobbling as soon as it graced your gaze. without thinking, his arms pulled you into a hug. a friendly one, to be sure. a happy to see you, no matter how your heart yearned for another reason. the emerald in his eyes shone down at you, that same look he’d given you when you’d first met all those weeks ago backstage before your show.

and now here you were, after weeks of texts and late night calls, staring at each other through a fog of tension, waiting with bated breath. he speaks first, and you try so desperately to ignore how his gloved fingers brush your wrist when he does.

“what are you doing tonight?”

you blink, his eyes hopeful for an answer. your head shakes, shoulders shrugging, brain nagging to be an ounce cooler than you were being right now. “i don’t know. why?”

“let me take you to dinner. it’ll be my prize, if i win,” he speaks quickly, as though he needs to say it before hesitancy can change his mind. that familiar lump of nerves turns in your stomach, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. not since austin first asked you out — a feeling that had ended in catastrophe. could you face that kind of tumble again?

“charles, you have to go!” a voice nearby urges, every other driver already behind their wheels. urges him to move, and you to answer. his feet are moving backwards, slowly, but his eyes stay trained on you, awaiting your reply.

“well, you’d better win then.”

INSTAGRAM.

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charles_leclerc P1!!! so happy with today’s result, thanks to everyone who got me there ♥️ time to celebrate (even more)

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scuderiaferrari YES! 🍾🍾🍾

user THE THIRD PIC???

⤷ user bro thinks he’s slick

yourusername congrats again!! super duper proud 💌

⤷ user the hair in the pic looks so much like hers oml

⤷ user she literally just got out of a relationship like five minutes ago

yourusername i think i trust you enough to teach me to drive now

⤷ charles_leclerc only now? ouch, my heart ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

⤷ lewishamilton STOP FLIRTING

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yourusername what the fuck is patience?

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charli_xcx damned if i know

pheobebridgers a man? 🤢🤢🤢

⤷ yourusername so true bbz

user SQUINTING to see who the guy is

⤷ user maybe it’s just a friend?? who cares

⤷ user puh lease he got her flowers

charles_leclerc nice flower arrangement

⤷ yourusername i know a sexy florist, want his # ?

user I MOVED

TWITTER.

writer’s note: they’re getting there 😭 i’m emotionally attached to this fictional couple i can’t. fyi this is just a filler to move them along there’ll be drama soon dw

[kingkatsuki]

— babysitting

Just a silly little piece about Bakugou looking after his nephew when Kirishima and his wife are both working, and him being the cutest little wingman.

Warnings: fluff!, implied!older Bakugou, Bakugou’s behaviour could be construed as stalking but it’s not really, he just proper fancies you.

Pairing: implied!Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 2.1k.

“Please, Kats. I promise it won’t be for long, we didn’t realise we were both working this afternoon and I can’t take him on patrol with me—” Kirishima pleaded on the phone.

“I’m busy,” Bakugou replied bluntly.

“Busy doing what?” His best friend almost whined, and Bakugou could tell the hulking tank of a man was pouting on the other side of the line.

“None of your damn business.”

Bakugou didn’t want to admit the real reason he was busy today. It was the same reason he was now busy every day he was off.

A few weeks ago he’d made his way into Musutafu mall on his lunch break to pick up a copy of a new romance book his favourite author had just released. And while he was checking out he noticed you filling up one of the displays near the back of the store, giving him the cutest smile when he’d passed you to leave.

Since that day he’d come back every week on one of his days off, just to get a simple “hey” from you as he bought yet another book. Bakugou was certain he’d soon have so many unread books in his house that he’d have to build an extension to store them, but he couldn’t help it.

And today was going to be the day that he was actually going to talk to you— possibly.

“Can’t you reschedule? It’ll only be for a few hours until I can get off patrol and he can spend the afternoon at the agency with me.”

“What about Mina?” Bakugou offered.

“She’s got that photoshoot with Hero Weekly today, remember?” Of course she fucking does, “And Sero’s out on patrol with me.”

“Denks?” Bakugou was certain he already knew the answer to that one though, as he ran a palm down the length of his face.

“You know I’m not allowed to leave him unsupervised with Denki anymore, Bro.” Kirishima groaned, “The wife still hasn’t forgiven me for them almost setting the kitchen on fire.”

Bakugou couldn’t help but snigger at the memory, the panicked phone call that he’d heard coming through on the central emergency line that there was a fire in Red Riot’s neighbourhood, and when Backdraft had turned up at the scene he’d found a singed Denki standing inside a murky kitchen with some burnt cookies. Kirishima had to replace two cabinet units and the oven after that debacle and it was no wonder his wife no longer trusted Denki as a babysitter.

“Please, man. I already told him, and he’s real excited to spend the day with you.”

Bakugou couldn’t deny he missed spending time with his little nephew, and Kirishima knew his best friend couldn’t deny the pleas of his son. Silently fist pumping the air in relief when Bakugou finally responded on the other end of the phone.

“Fine, I’ll pick him up now.”

“Uncle Kats, let’s get these!” His nephew picked up a water gun from a wire dumpbin of toys outside the toy store, turning around in a crouched motion with eyes squinted as he pretended to shoot Bakugou.

He put his hands up in mock surrender as he grabbed at the plastic barrel, holding it in the air as he took it out of his nephews hands to place it back inside the bin.

“Your parents don’t like you having guns, remember squirt.”

“But what if I need one for protection.”

“You don’t need that shit for protection,” He shook his head, “I’ll be there to protect ya.”

“But wouldn’t it be cool to have a water gun fight outside. It’s summer.” His young nephew whined as Bakugou began to lead him away from the toy store, noticing that your work was approaching on the right side of the mall.

“I’ll talk to them about it.” Bakugou reached down to ruffle his hair as his nephew shouldered his leg wrapping an arm around one thick thigh to squeeze him into a hug in thanks, “How about a book? You like reading, don’tcha?”

“Not really,” He shook his head, immediately making a beeline for the confectionery inside the shop.

“What? Why not.” Bakugou raised a brow before he began to search the store for you, hoping that you weren’t on your lunch break.

You were usually in one of the back aisles around this time of day, tidying the shelves as he pretended to flick through the various hero books that you sold. Like he’d ever actually buy one of them— perhaps the book Miruko had released on unabashedly being yourself despite the critics, or the memoir Edgeshot had put together before he passed away, but never the unofficial Deku books that seemed to line the shelves of your Pro-Hero section and were always on sale. Bakugou snorted when he noticed a large bright red “half off” sticker covering Deku’s face on one.

“It’s too many pages.” His nephew scoffed, picking up a chocolate bar as Bakugou placed a palm on the back of his neck to lead him away from the sweets.

“You just gotta find a book that doesn’t feel like too many pages, that’s all.” He began to walk towards the manga aisle, wondering if there might be something there that would interest the young boy.

“You like reading, uncle Kats?”

“Course I do,” Bakugou scoffed, “Way better than TV. That shit’ll rot your brain.”

He had an entire bookshelf of his favourites lined up at home. All in alphabetical order by author and spines outward facing, a few of his favourite covers turned forward to show off the artwork. Some spines were more worn than others, an indication of the sheer number of times he’d sought comfort in those stories after a long day at work, or a lonely night at home.

“What kinda books do you like?”

Bakugou chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. It would be so easy to lie and say action or fantasy, certain that half the people who claimed their favourite book was Lord of the Rings or a Game of Thrones had never actually read them. Or the pretentious people who would pretend their favourites were non-fiction books about bettering yourself or hyper-specific topics that would never come up in normal conversation. But there was a part of him that didn’t want to lie to his nephew— the boy was always so open and honest with him, even at his young age.

“Romance.” Bakugou shrugged, leaning forward to pick up one of the new manga books that sat on a top shelf.

“Eww yuck,” Bakugou’s nephew immediately scrunched up his face, making a show of sticking his tongue out in distaste, “I didn’t think you’d like books like that.”

“What did ya think I’d like?”

“I dunno, like action or kicking villain ass.”

“Don’t say ass.” Bakugou frowned, his eyebrows narrowing as he glared down at the young boy.

“But you say it all the time, I hear you.”

“Yeah, because I’m an adult.” Bakugou grinned, “I see enough of that crap when I’m at work, don’t need to read about it too.”

“You say ‘shit’ a lot too.”

“Oi, you little—” Bakugou lost his train of thought the moment he saw you past a corner, words disappearing into nothing as he noticed the same focused look on your face as you sorted through a delivery of new books.

Bakugou was certain you were wearing a new pair of jeans today, or at least a pair he’d never seen before. You looked real good in them. He felt his heartbeat increase when you placed a book back on the shelf, stopping to talk to one of your colleagues as your lips curled in to the prettiest smile, and he couldn’t stop himself as he felt himself beginning to mimic your smiling face.

“Oh,” The kid nudged his thigh, shamelessly standing around the shelves to stare at you, “Is that the real reason why you brought me into a bookstore? Not because you want me to read.”

“What?” Bakugou wasn’t even sure he heard the question as he kept his gaze on you. Feeling his cheeks begin to heat up as you bent over to pick up more books, the angle had your jeans tightening against the curve of your ass and he felt like a pervert for ogling you so shamelessly.

“The lady you’re staring at.” His nephew snorted, pointing over at you “You’re so obvious.”

“Piss— shut up,” Bakugou caught himself, grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt to tug him back behind the shelves, “I ain’t starin’.”

“Yeah you are!” His nephew sniggered, “You’re giving her the same look my dad gives ma.”

“No I ain’t.” Bakugou almost pouted, crimson eyes still peeking at you through the shelves in the aisle he was down as you continued to place more books onto the table in your section.

“You so are,” His tone increased, and Bakugou had to stop himself from slapping a palm over his big mouth to shut him up, “You’re so obvious. Look how red you are!”

Was he that obvious? Bakugou had done everything he could to be subtle each week when he visited your bookstore, trying to stick to the same shelves and strategically picking up books so he didn’t seem like was just staring at you all the time. Not that it was his fault anyway, you were so fucking pretty.

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“She’s workin’.” Bakugou replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He’d probably said a total of five words to you since he’d started coming into your book store a few weeks ago, and the thought of saying any more had a ferocious pit growing inside his stomach.

“So? If you like her you should tell her,” His nephew tried to nudge him towards you, “That’s why my dad asked my ma out.”

“That’s different,” Bakugou grumbled, “This is…”

Kirishima knew his wife liked him back, they’d been friends long before they started dating so they had a foundation to build upon. This? This was completely new to him, and the thought of being rejected, especially by a girl as pretty as you, petrified him.

“Wait, you read all those romance books and you don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“I do know,” Bakugou sneered, “I ain’t a total dumbass.”

“So why don’t you?”

Because he was a coward, that’s why.

Not that he’d even be able to talk to you long enough to do it if he could. His throat seized up and his heart practically ricocheted off his rib cage whenever you were near, your perfume lingering in the air as it had him wishing he could bring you into a warm embrace. He’d ask you out one day, just not today—

“Because I told ya, she’s workin’.” Bakugou began to steer his nephew away from the manga section, trying to get him to leave the store.

It had been a bad idea to still come to your store on his day off even though he was babysitting, but he couldn’t help it. The routine he’d settled into on his days off no longer felt complete if they didn’t include you, the small time he’d spend in the bookstore each week were enough to become the highlight of his day. And he would ask you out— just not today.

“Don’t tell your parents about this,” Bakugou grumbled, “Your dads too frigging nosy.”

“Alright,” His nephew practically sung the word, and Bakugou knew exactly what was coming, “But it’ll cost you.”

“I’m sure it’s a crime to blackmail a Pro-Hero, squirt.”

“So I’ll just tell the pretty lady you fancy her then.”

“Fine, fine,” Bakugou snarled, the corner of his lip curling to bare his gum, “Whaddya want?”

“That water gun we saw at the toy store.”

God, Kirishima was gonna kill him.

“Fine.” Bakugou groaned, walking towards the cash register to pay for the candy that he’d picked up.

“But you have to get one too so we can play together, alright?”

Two guns. Kirishima’s wife would definitely kill him before he even attempted to sweet talk his best friend.

“I was going to say the loser has to tell that girl from the bookstore that you like her, but you’ll probably lose because you’re old.”

“Oi, you cheeky little shit,” He ruffled his nephew's messy black hair, “Watch who you’re callin’ old, squirt. I’ll kick your ass and ask her out.”

[runnning-outof-time]

Congratulations, I adore your story!!

Could you please do 23 with angst and then fluff? Thank you so much I appreciate it!💕

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m so happy you like my stories! I decided to go with Tommy for the character and chose “I don’t want to go.” for the prompt because it was the 5 word #23. I hope you don’t mind that. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

To Keep You Safe

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: season 4 spoilers (like right from the jump), language

Word Count: 1042

Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy discuss the decision to have her go into hiding while the war with the Changrettas rages on.

Things were heating up in the vendetta between the Shelbys and the Changrettas. What both sides thought would be a quick battle had now turned into a full-on war. And after Luca managed to get to Michael in his hospital bed and try to get him to switch sides, Tommy was convinced that no one was safe.

He called a family meeting. He arranged it in the morning and it was set for that evening. The air in the room was so thick with tension that you could practically cut it with a knife. (Y/N) noted that they were currently in the midst of a thunderstorm, which she had a feeling was foreshadowing for what was to be talked about.

And oh boy was she right. Things were quiet between her and Tommy that night. Neither of the two spoke a word to the other before they both went to sleep.

(Y/N) didn’t really sleep much though. No matter how many times she wished it wouldn’t, tomorrow still came.

Soon enough, there was a man in a car sitting outside their Watery Lane home.

“I don’t want to go,” (Y/N) huffed as she crossed her arms. She was aware of how much she sounded like their three year old daughter, but she quite frankly didn’t care.

“You have to, love,” Tommy insisted, not wanting this to turn into something bigger than it had to be.

“Why?” she asked, her one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Don’t fucking start…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“You owe me a reason, Thomas. I’m not just going to be shipped off into the fucking wilderness for no fucking reason,” she harped on, sharing her feelings about the decision that had been made — essentially without her consent — the night prior.

“You know why,” he told her, insisting it was common sense.

“Enlighten me anyway,” she shrugged.

“(Y/N).”

“Tommy.”

“It’s to keep you safe!” he finally came out with it, his voice raising as his eyes went wide, showing the frustration and stress he was currently under. “It’s to keep you fucking safe.”

(Y/N) was taken back by his outburst, but she really should have expected it. She was poking a bear; a powder keg that was bound to explode sooner or later. “You’re keeping me safe here, though. And besides, it was agreed between the both of you: no civilians. No women or children,” she pointed out in a softer voice, recalling the rules of the vendetta that he’d told her a few weeks prior.

“Yeah, I know that was agreed upon,” Tommy started, nodding as a sigh escaped his lips, “but with how things are going…we need to expect everything. And I can’t have you get taken by him or his men as a way to get me. So I need you to go. Just for a little while.”

Silence fell between them as she took a minute to think things over. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Tommy’s side while all of this was going on.

“I don’t want to leave you, Tommy,” was the next thing she said. She couldn’t get through the sentence without choking up, tears brimming up in her eyelids.

Tommy exhaled a breath before he closed the short distance between them, taking her into his arms just as her body began to shake from her sobs. “It’ll just be a little while, love,” he spoke in a soft voice, his chin rested on the top of her head as he rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

They stood like that for a few minutes. (Y/N) had no shame in crying into her husband’s suit coat. She didn’t want to let him go and leave because she was afraid that this would be the last time she’d see him.

“Hey, the car’s waiting outside,” Tommy was the one to speak first. He loosened his hold on her as he did, moving his hands to her shoulders so that he could bring her out at arms length.

“I know,” (Y/N) nodded, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. “I’ll miss you, Tommy,” she added then, looking at him with watery eyes.

“I’ll miss you too, love,” he responded without a second thought, raising one hand to run it down her cheek.

“Make sure you go visit the kids for me…or at least send Pol or someone if you think it’s too risky,” she added, thinking of her children who were currently residing at her parents’ home.

“I will,” he assured her with a nod.

(Y/N) took a moment to look at her husband then, making sure she could commit every part of him to memory. She didn’t know when she’d see him next. Her bottom lip began to quiver as that thought stuck in her mind.

“It’s just a little while,” Tommy repeated what he’d said to her before.

“I know,” she nodded, holding back the tears. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated the phrase, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) held him there, making their embrace as long as it could possibly be. But eventually she had to pull away, and as she did, she finally decided it was time. “I should go.”

“I’ll come get you when this is finished,” he promised her, their eyes locked as he spoke.

“Just stay alive,” she said to him, sending one last smile her way before they finally broke their embrace so that she could grab her things.

Tommy ushered her outside and made sure she got into the vehicle. He then gave the driver and his accomplice strict instructions on what to do. After sending one last smile to (Y/N), he let them go and headed back inside.

He took two steps away from the door and placed his hands onto the side table sitting there so that he could brace himself as he leaned back against it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, his family flashing in his mind. Then he released the breath he’d been holding and stared straight ahead. This vendetta would be finished soon, and he’d make damn sure of it.

**tags are in a reblog, so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

[starkwlkr]

Hi, I love your Ruby universe. Can I request Ruby's first day at pre-k and Charles being a nervous wreck about it.

just like papa | charles leclerc

idk how the school system works in monaco or at what age the kids start school there so if i get anything wrong, please correct me <3 also instead of charles being nervous, it’s my girl ruby 👀

another similar request: Hi, I really like your work, could you do a picture of Ruby at school and what her experience would be like

small mention of charles’ father

Charles was extremely thankful that he wasn’t racing or in another country when the day of Ruby’s first day of nursery school arrived. A week before, she was excited. She had gone shopping with Pascale and Y/n and picked out a new backpack, supplies, new shoes and clothes. Everyday leading up to the first day of nursery, she would make sure she had everything in her backpack. She didn’t want to miss anything.

But then came the first day nerves on the night before she would officially be in school.

“You’re going to have so much fun, Ruby.” Charles assured the girl who was too nervous to even go to sleep. “You’re going to meet other children make friends.”

“Is it scary?” Ruby asked.

“It’ll seem scary at first but then you won’t want to leave.”

The nerves were still there the next morning. Ruby was always a bit energetic in the mornings no matter what, but now she was a little too quiet. She ate her breakfast in silence, spoon full of cereal in one hand while the other held her bunny plush she had named floppy.

“Good morning, my Ruby Jules.” Charles entered the dining room and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s temple to greet her. “Ready for school?”

Ruby hugged floppy tighter and slowly nodded. She remained quiet.

“It’s okay to be scared, mon amour. I get scared before I race too. But guess what? You’re the bravest girl I know.” Charles said.

“You’re brave too,” Ruby finally spoke. “Just like papa.” She said, referring to Hervé. Charles had told many stories about his father to Ruby, which convinced her that her grandfather was a brave, kind, loving man.

“Yes, just like papa.”

Y/n joined her family and watched as they continued their talk about nursery school. “Are you taking floppy?” She questioned the girl. Floppy was like another member of the family. She was a gift from Arthur when she was just born. She quickly grew an attachment to the stuffed animal.

“Can I?” Ruby asked.

Before Y/n could say anything, Charles spoke. “Of course you can. Floppy can join you everyday.” Ruby cracked a smile. Now she felt like herself again knowing floppy was joining her.

Y/n knew she would have to talk to Ruby’s teacher about taking floppy. She hoped the teacher would understand and let Ruby and floppy stay together.

“Okay, finish up. We have to get you to school, baby.” Y/n said to Ruby, who happily nodded and ate the rest of her cereal.

Charles wasn’t going to let Ruby and Y/n go to the nursery alone. He wanted to see Ruby enter the classroom with his very own eyes. It wasn’t everyday his little girl would experience her first day of school. He felt like his girl was growing up even though she was just going to school. He didn’t want to miss that.

The nursery was a walking distance from their home so as the family of three walked, Charles told Ruby about his nursery days. He didn’t remember much, but he told her good things to help ease her nerves.

“By the end of the day, you’re going to be even smarter. You might even be smarter than papa.” Y/n teased.

“She already is, right?” Charles looked down at the little girl who was holding his hand.

“You’re smart, papa.” Ruby smiled at Charles.

“Thank you, my Ruby Jules.”

As the family arrived to the gates of the nursery, Ruby began to feel the nerves again. She held onto floppy as Y/n greeted a friend who was also dropping off her child. Soon, they found themselves inside the nursery school. The hallways were painted with bright colors and had tiny handprints with names written on them. Ruby gripped Charles’ hand as they walked to Ruby’s classroom.

“Welcome! I’m Ms. Olivia.” A woman greeted the family at the door.

“Hi, I’m Y/n and this is my husband, Charles. And this is our daughter, Ruby.” Y/n introduced her family.

Ms. Olivia crouched down to meet with Ruby. “Hello, Ruby. I’m your teacher.” The woman smiled warmly.

Ruby looked unsure. In that moment, she wanted to be anywhere else, she’d rather be with her grand-meré. She backed away until her back hit Charles’ knees.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” Ms. Olivia assured. She then looked at the stuffed bunny in Ruby’s hand. “That’s a lovely bunny. What’s their name?”

Ruby looked up at her papa and mama as if asking if it was okay to talk to the woman. Charles nodded at her.

“His name is floppy.” Ruby said quietly.

“That’s a pretty name. I have more toys for you and floppy to play with. Would you like to see them?” Ms. Olivia asked.

Ruby looked around the classroom. It was filled with kids her age. Some were playing with dolls or trucks, others were coloring. Y/n could see Ruby was still nervous.

“Is it okay if we go in with her?” Y/n asked the teacher.

“Of course. Most parents do that because of how nervous the kids get on their first day.” Ms. Olivia explained.

The family entered the classroom and found a table and chairs where they could sit at. Problem was that the chairs were small since it was designed for a child so the parents looked like giants in the chairs.

“Look, we can color.” Y/n saw blank coloring pages and a pack of crayons on the table. She passed the page and crayons to Ruby. “What color are you going to make the butterfly?”

Ruby shrugged, still holding onto floppy. “I don’t know. Papa, what color?” She asked Charles.

“What about blue? Blue is a nice color.” Charles said.

“Floppy likes blue.” Ruby added. “Mama, what color do you want?”

“I think pink goes nice with the blue.”

As Ruby colored, Charles took the opportunity to take out his phone and take a few pictures of his daughter on her first day of nursery school. He sent them to his family group chat and of course to Pierre.

“That looks beautiful, baby. Let’s put your name so everyone knows who colored it so pretty.” Y/n said once Ruby was done coloring in the butterfly.

Ruby grabbed a red crayon in her left hand. Just like her uncle Arthur, she was a lefty. It was actually Arthur’s fault for Ruby being left handed. He dared the girl to write with her left hand so she practiced for a whole month and it just kinda stuck with her.

“Rubyyyy Ju . . . Jules.” Ruby sounded out her name. “What goes next?”

Y/n chuckled. “Your next name is Louise. Lou . . . ise. There you go, you’re my smart girl.”

It wasn’t really readable at all, but to Ruby, it was her name. It looked like scribbles, but she didn’t care.

“And what’s your last name, mon amour?” Charles asked.

“Yours!” Ruby excitedly said.

“Yes, but what is it?”

“Gasly.”

Y/n tried to hold in her laughter once she heard Ruby. Charles quietly laughed as Ruby looked confused as to why her parents were even laughing.

“Baby, that’s uncle Pierre’s last name. Ours is Leclerc.” Charles explained to her.

“I know, but can I put Gasly too? Then I can show Uncle Pierre.”

“I’m sure Pierre is going to love it.” Y/n nodded, still holding in the laugh.

“Okay, how do you spell it?”

Liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and 739,266 others

charles_leclerc baby leclerc takes on nursery school

scuderiaferrari good luck from all of us here at Ferrari!

lewishamilton the smartest girl already❤️

pierregasly tell her to stop growing up or I’m going to get mad

charles_leclerc she says she wants to be tall so she can give you all the kisses and hugs

pierregasly ok then she can grow 😌

lorenzotl hope she had a great first day!

charles_leclerc she wants to show you her drawings

lorenzotl on my way with ice cream❤️

[prettyboykatsuki]

oliver talking his partner through it and calling him d**** god your brain is so huge my stomach hurts thinking about this. he’ll never tell you he loves you to your face and tries to fuck you more like he hates you because he doesn’t want to get too attached but as you’re getting close he’s all in your face and your neck, teasing you, biting your ear and softly begging you to tell him how you feel, how it’ll be better for him if you tell d**** just how close you are and how much you need him. takes you over the crest so sweetly, and continues rolling into you, chasing his own. his kisses are nonstop and so overwhelming, and he knows they are but he just really needs to connect with you like this. never the first to say “i love you” but unfortunately (in his opinion) he expresses it in so many other ways. sorry.

but i crumble completely when you cry | a. oliver

✮ tags ; DADDY KINK, afab + fem!reader, situationship!oliver, hooking up, unresolved romantic tension, p in v, praise, soft sex, it gets emotionally strange, riding, creampies, unprotected sex, under-negotiated kink in a sense though oliver is very careful

✮ wc ; 2.2k (i dont want to talk about it)

✮ a/n ; anon im going to haunt your dreams for putting this absurd image into my head when i dont even go here im crying screaming throwing up ive been thinking about it for hours. hours of my life wasted on this guys dick. upsetting!!!!!

also i do not write this often and do not plan too again any time soon so if ur seeing this and thinking about following me for content like it i would not recommend!!!

✮ synopsis ; you don't trust oliver with your heart or your feelings. nor do you expect anything from him.

but it's hard not to lean into him when he decides to cradle you so gently.

Your relationship with Oliver is both very ambiguous and very clear.

There's a line drawn, and you both steer clear of crossing it in your interactions. Oliver is fun. He's attractive and charming, a massive flirt but just genuine enough to be interesting.

It helps that he's hot. Physically, he's got an unreal build.

He's an athlete, so he's big. Wide chest and strong arms, thick thighs and the height to top it off. He's 6'3, and he's sexy (and his dick is huge) - and you sleep with him because of that. You don't date him explicitly because he's a womanizer. If you'd met when you were a little younger, a little more naive - you might've tried to dog-train him into being your boyfriend.

Because on top of the immaculate dick, he's fun to be around. He's funny, he drinks well, he's not a scumbag in the ways that turn you off.

You're old enough to know better. You have a career. You're too busy, and too jaded about love to try and fix whatever weird shit he has going on. So even if the two of you harbor some sort of emotional or romantic feelings for each other, you're smart enough to not get invested in those feelings and smart enough to have no expectations.

Oliver is your fun. He's your sneaky link, your weekend off. You come to him to blow off steam. You have rough, fast sex and it's good. Sometimes you chill afterwards, and you'll indulge each other in some physical affection but other times you take your shower and leave. It's a good time, and you know well enough not to ever ask him for any of your emotional needs. You have your therapist and girl friends for that.

Normally, when you're having a rough week - it's prime time to go to him. He'll fuck you a little harder than usual, and sometimes he's nice enough to kiss it better. But it's still, very distinctly, never crossing that boundary.

But some weeks, like this week - shit is bad. Not just stressful bad, but everything in the fucking world that could go wrong, is going wrong bad. It's not the kind of thing you can get over by compartmentalizing and even when you try to do your usual thing it doesn't really work.

You're trying right now - to get over the fucked up week you had. And you're turned on, but somehow - it's still not enough to get you completely out of it.

Oliver pauses mid stroke, in missionary - hetero-chromatic eyes staring you down as your thoughts are somewhere else completely. You don't notice the first time he stops, or the first time he calls you.

And he only gets your attention by cupping your face and making you look at him. You startle as you cast your glance his way.

"What's with you?" He asks, though he's not pissed or anything "Not feelin' it? Want me to stop?"

"No, you don't have too."

"Not what I asked," He chastises, letting go of your face "Not having your full attention is making me go soft,"

This makes you laugh, and Oliver cracks a smile seeing the tension melt off your face if only slightly.

"I'm cool with stopping." He assures. You let your hand reach up to his shoulder.

"It's not like I want to stop, necessarily? Like I wanna do something to get my mind off it and sex feels like the best option, but you know how it goes sometimes," You say, trying your best to avoid the emotional baggage of your words "We can stop though. I'll pay you for your wasted time," You tack the joke on at the end to ease the tension.

You're expecting him to pull out and stop, or maybe challenge himself into fucking you so good that you forget. Something more quintessentially Oliver than what he does do.

He gives you a blank look first, than a laugh that is a touch too sincere for you to be comfortable "That bad of a week?"

You're suddenly in dangerous territory. Somehow, this strange intimacy makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You swallow thickly, the emotions coming over you so quick you end up looking away.

"Yeah. You know. It's fine, but you know."

"Mm," He says. He leans into your space. His breath is warm and his stubble tickles your skin as he whispers in your ear. You feel your breath hitch. And the air feels heavy "Wanna try somethin' else?"

"Like what?"

"A surprise," He says first, and find your stomach tightening. A hollowness in your nerves "Gotta trust me."

"You're scaring me." You joke.

"I'm a sex expert, you know?" Oliver says, humming against your skin "If I can't remedy your little problem with my dick, it's bad for my street cred. My yelp reviews will tank."

"You're such a dumbass."

"Do you trust me?"

You don't know how to answer. Yes, for the most part. Not with everything, but with your pleasure at least. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel the same. But you say yes, anyways. Oliver kisses your jaw in reply, then he pulls out.

He flips position easily. He ends up on his back, then he grabs you to rest on top of him. You're not sure what you're expecting. He holds you by your hips as your sex hovers over his cock. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin as he sinks you down slowly onto him.

You only stare at him, mouth opening as you feel him stretch you open for a second time.

You're more aware of it this way. He's so thick, and so intrusive - and normally, you're feeling that in hard strokes. Fast and rough, like something knocking into your cervix. But like this, he's hitting a deep angle. You can feel every curve, every inch, as you come down slowly.

He keeps you there. For longer than you'd expect. Just keeps you, settles you, holds you gently. You stare at him as he grabs your hand, locking your fingers. Your first instinct is to panic, or crack a joke - but there's an intense look in his eye that shuts you up.

Uncharacteristically gentle, you find yourself frightened. Oliver's hands reach for you again. They hold your waist and slide up the planes of your body. He holds your tits in his palms and squeezes.

He does this a lot, but there's not usually this much touching. This much foreplay. It's grabby, a deeper pressure. He doesn't...feel you, in the way he is now. You stare at him, and he looks back at you so fondly you feel a strange urge to pretend it never happened.

"Play with your clit," He says, though there's no urgency in his voice.

Deep and smooth, the timbre in it has you shaking. You listen, on auto-pilot as you play with yourself clumsily and build a slow pressure. He just watches.

"C'mere, baby. And don't stop touching yourself."

Another pause. It's not the first time he's called you that. He likes to call you all sorts of things when you're fucking, and baby is one of the few. But not like that. Not like this. He gives you a lazy, self satisfied smile and encourages you by placing a hand on where he can reach on your low back.

You lean down, and Oliver tucks you into his chest. He's warm, and strong - and smells so good, like musk and cologne. Your free hand is on his chest, as he grips your hips and fucks up into you.

"That's it," His voice is pleasant to your ears. It feels funny to you "Just gotta listen to me."

He starts fucking you slowly. It's a familiar feeling, a pleasant stretch that dulls into a euphoric fullness. But it's never been this slow before. Each thrust is slow, and punctual, and so deep you feel yourself gasping. It's not enough to push you over the edge, but it's enough to make your mind feel a little numb.

You think he's going to keep at you like this, maybe edge you to take you out of it. But he doesn't. He keeps his pace.

"Had a hard time this week, didn't you, tough girl?" He mumbles, so low it doesn't feel real. You feel your heart start to race. You feel your throat start to close around something, choking "Did a good job and came to me. Gonna let me take care of it?"

You stumble. You aren't sure what to say, you nod and hope he feels it. He laughs a little. You can't be sure if you're fucking Oliver or not.

You know it's him but he's never been like this. Not once. Not ever.

"Gonna let daddy take care of you?" He says, though it's tentative. Your breath hitches. Something strange overwhelms your senses "Tell me, baby."

"Uhm," Your first reaction is a sense of resistance, an immediate pull away. Not that you hate it but you aren't sure how to adjust. You squirm, but you don't tell him no. You feel like you can't in this state "Uh-uh,"

He keeps surprising you, pressing his lips to yours where you hover over him, tender as he ups the pace of his thrusts.

"That's what I like to hear," He almost sounds proud "You'll hurt your head if you think too much. And I'd be a bad daddy, letting that happen, yeah?"

A vulnerable, foreign sensation drives you to speak "You're not bad in that way."

He laughs "Just in other ways, right?"

You giggle "Uh-huh."

"But not in this one," He repeats, very carefully. He fucks into you harder now, pays extra special attention to you. It's all for you, is what he's saying in a language completely foreign yet somehow so known. One only the two of you will ever know fully, confined in the four walls of this room "Daddy is good at taking care of you like this, so you should let him do just that. Tough girls always need their daddies, hm?"

It's what ends up tipping you up over the edge. You cling to him, succumbing to whatever weird space the two of you have fallen into you. Suspended in this odd sense of comfort that Oliver has thrust you in unannounced.

You don't trust Oliver with a lot, and this is more than what you should ever find yourself giving. In the back of your head you think you should pull away.

But he's comforting. It feels good, and strangely feels safe - and even for all the ways he's awful, you trust he'd never do anything bad to you. Even if it's a blip in the timeline, for now it's what you need. A blurry cross into your emotional needs that translate into your physical ones. Too much and so overwhelming, you hug closer to him and take a deep breath.

"Mm," You let yourself lean into him. Just this once, you promise yourself. "I wanna cum."

"Want it a little harder?"

"Mhm,"

"Then Daddy will give it to you a little harder, yeah? Anything for you." He says, and you try not to think to deeply on what that really means. Because even in this state you know it's not nothing, but you should never pry "Daddy can give you anything you want."

"Yeah?"

He chuckles a little as he fucks into you hard. Fucks into you how you need. You're wet enough, and wondering if you were always so into being doted on. Or if it's just the fact that it's Oliver. Another thing you decide to overlook as you zero in on the sensation of being pistoned from underneath. You're soaking. The room noisy with the sticky noise of Olivers cock penetrating you over and over, skin hitting skin as his hips press against your ass. His grip is bruising but not intentionally, his chest huffed in pleasure.

He's just as close as you are, you know all of his cues. You play with your clit faster, sensitive bud throbbing hard as all the blood rushes south. Your mouth has fallen open as the slow, thick desire coiling and culminating into something cosmic. Something big and heavy, but not too fast. Not a crash landing like you're used to.

But a single weight, the force of a star dropping to Earth. You figure Oliver is the gravity in your universe, holding you down so you don't float too far. You want to cling onto him for much longer.

And somehow, you're inclined to think he would let you.

"Oliver," You say his name as it builds, then decide on something else "Daddy,"

"I'm here, baby," He says back, like it's all he has to say for everything to make sense when nothing about this does "I'm right here. Let go."

So you do. You cum hard, and it comes in long never ending waves. Too much. It makes you collapse in Olivers arms, both arms coming around his neck as he continues to fuck you through the aftermath.

"Gonna," He voices, rasping as his thrusts become sloppy "Shit. Cumming, shit."

He cums with you, cums deep inside like usual and you mewl at the feeling of being filled with hot, sticky seed.

When it's over, you're almost afraid to look at him. When the tensions settled, and his chest goes back to it's steady breaths - you wonder whats going to happen next.

"Wanna stay like this for a while?"

You nod.

"Mm. Sleepy."

"Stay like this, then. I'll wake you in a little."

"So you can kick me out?" You joke, trying to pretend nothing is different. He pauses.

"Just to shower," He whispers, hand resting on your lower back "Sleep."

There's too much to think about. Tomorrow will be strange. You let yourself succumb to your own exhaustion.

"Okay."

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Three Rules

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: being in an abusive relationship, domestic violence, covering up bruises (nothing is ever explicit, just talked about), minor fluff at the end

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been assigned to you as a way to overcome his feelings and separate himself from the Winter Solider. You're his saving grace and maybe, he can be yours.

Squares Filled: "need a medic?" (2021) @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The mirror above the steering wheel is so tiny but it’ll have to do since you don’t have your big mirror in your purse this time. You make sure your makeup is good enough to last the whole day, and more importantly, to keep what’s underneath hidden from everyone else. You don’t know what you’d do if people found out about your home life.

When you deem yourself okay, you grab your things and head straight to work. Your assistant, Carly, greets you with a friendly smile and a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, boss!”

“Morning. Who do we have on the books today?”

“The only one is Bucky Barnes.”

“Great. Send him in as soon as he gets here.”

“Sure.”

You walk into your office and make sure everything you need for today’s session is in front of you. Bucky Barnes has only been seeing you for a couple of months so it’s still so new to either of you. You're a well-respected psychologist who had many clients, but you never thought you’d be seeing the former Winter Soldier.

You’ve heard the stories. You know what he’s done but he’s trying to atone for his mistakes. One of the important ways he’s going to do that is if you give him the chance to. He’s been respectful of you even though he’s closed off. Someone like him who experienced the torture he’s been through isn’t going to open up easily. It’s hard getting him to talk about himself but you’re hoping that if you start from before Hydra it will get him to open up to you a lot more.

His appointment is in a couple of minutes so you check yourself using your desk mirror to make sure everything still looks the same.

“Boss, Mr. Barnes is here,” Carly says through the phone intercom.

“Send him in.” The door opens and Bucky walks in with an uncertain look in his eyes. You give him a small yet friendly smile to ease his concerns. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. Please, have a seat.”

“Please, call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky.” He sits down on the couch across from your desk. “How was your week?” He shrugs in response. “Did you do anything special?”

“I spent time with Sam and his family.”

“How did that make you feel? Did you like it?”

“It was alright,” he sighs.

“Did you uphold your three rules?”

Rule #1: Don’t do anything illegal. Rule #2: Don’t hurt anyone. Rule #3: Introduce himself as James Barnes instead of Bucky, formerly the Winter Solider.

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I’m proud of the progress you’ve made since seeing me. Is there anything you’d like to talk about specifically that happened this week?”

“No.”

He can’t seem to look at you. He’s talking to you, that’s a plus, even though he’s only giving you one-syllable words.

“Bucky, if this is going to work, I need you to try here. I’m not asking you to write me a novel about your life. I’m asking you to give a little. Can you do that for me?” you ask in a gentle tone.

“Okay,” he sighs and looks into your eyes. “I’ll try.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Steve.”

“What about Steve?” Bucky looks like he wants to cry. Anything about Steve makes him question everything about him. He left Bucky. He left everyone behind to start a life in another timeline. “This is a safe space. Everything you’re feeling is valid, Bucky. When you’re ready, I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

It takes him ten long minutes to find the courage to talk and when he does, he can’t look at you.

“What if Steve was wrong about me? I was under Hydra’s influence when we crossed paths again, and he did everything he could to save me. He even brought me to Wakanda to get that shit out of my head. What if it’s still there? What if they say those words again and I’m back to being the Winter Soldier? Sometimes I don’t think I’m worth saving.”

You want to cry for him. He is so badly damaged that it will take a long time if not the rest of his life to be okay again. He might have happy moments here and there, but those fears will always be there. You have to choose your words carefully.

“It’s hard to see the good in someone who has done bad, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Steve remembered his best friend and knew the kind of person he was. Steve remembered something in you that is still true to this day.”

“What?” he asks and looks up at you with hints of tears in his eyes.

“I see a man trying to do good, to atone for his mistakes, and I think that’s someone worth saving. Steve saw it, too.” A single tear escapes his eyes but he doesn’t wipe it away. “If you are who you think you are, you wouldn’t feel remorse for what they did to you. The fact that you do shows me that you’re more than what they put in your head. You’re trying to do good with the bad you’ve been given, and that’s not a bad person.”

You’ve made excellent progress with Bucky this session, and you think the next one is going to go by just as smoothly. He only gets an hour but you make the most of the rest of the hour.

“The same time next week?” you ask.

“I’ll see you then, Doc,” Bucky smiles and leaves your office.

With each passing session, you and Bucky form a stronger bond until he realizes he looks forward to being with you. You make his day a bit brighter but the last thing he is gonna do is tell you that. You’d never have romantic relations with a client but you can’t say the same once they no longer are your clients.

You show up to work one week dabbing makeup on your face while driving. You’re on the phone with your husband. He isn’t on speakerphone and your phone is resting in one of the cup holders, but you can still hear every word he is saying as clear as day. He is yelling that loudly at you. You forgot to do the dishes before you left for work and now he is telling you what a burden you are, how much he hates you, and that you’re useless…

…and those are the nice things.

“Baby, I was running late this morning. I’m sorry,” you sigh and pick up the phone.

“I will deal with you later,” he growls and hangs up the phone.

You’d cry but then you’d ruin your makeup, and you’re already at work. You push down your feelings about your abusive husband and walk into work. You gasp at how hot it is, and you look at your assistant who has her work jacket off.

“What is going on in here? Why is it so hot?”

“The air conditioning is broken but someone is coming to look at it later.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “How many today?”

“Three.”

“Send them through.”

You get through the first two clients with as few problems as possible but by the time Bucky comes in, you’re almost about to break. You're tired, your face is pulsing with pain, your makeup feels like cake at this point, and you don’t know how much longer you can stand sitting in the heat.

“Hi, Bucky. Please have a seat,” you greet. He sees the immediate shift in your behavior and you’ve only said six words to him. “I’d like to start this session by talking about last week. You said something about taking a trip with Sam, right? How did that go?”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Bucky, we’re here to talk about you, not me.”

Bucky has to let it go for right now but he can’t when you wipe your face to clear the sweat. You forget that you have makeup on otherwise you wouldn’t have wiped your face with your handkerchief. It’s not entirely present but Bucky knows a bruise when he sees one, and you have a dark one near your eye.

“Need a medic?”

“I’m fine. I fell.”

“I’ve fallen plenty of times. I’ve gotten hit enough times to know a bruise caused by a punch when I see one.”

“Bucky, please. Drop it. We’re not here to talk about me.”

Bucky notices you play with your wedding ring nervously whenever the spotlight is on you. He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what’s been happening here. For your sake, he lets it go. The session is cut short due to Bucky needing to be somewhere, and you made it clear he is still getting charged the full hour whether he uses it or not. He was fine with it so you moved on with three other clients after him.

The air conditioning was fixed after the first client, so you redid your makeup in the bathroom to be more presentable. It’s late when you finish with your last client, and you curse at the time. Your husband is going to kill you if you’re late again. You gather your things and rush out of your office, but Carly stops you before you can get far.

“Listen, I’m running late, so can you--”

“The police called earlier. I told them you were with a client and they asked if you could call them back. They said it was urgent.”

“Oh, okay,” you stutter. She hands you her phone after redialing the last number called. “Hi, my name is Y/N. My assistant got a call earlier?” You hear the words they’re saying but your brain isn’t processing them. “Wait, I’m sorry, he’s what?”

“Your husband is dead, ma’am. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“How? When? I just talked to him this morning.”

“My guess is that he’s been dead for maybe four hours. He died from a severe beating and blunt-force trauma to the head.”

All you hear them saying is that you’re free. You’re finally free. No more pain. You’re not sure who killed your husband because he didn’t have a lot of enemies. Despite how he treated you, he was very charming to everyone else. He put up this facade that made him look like a saint when really, he was the devil.

When you show up to work the next week, your hair is pinned up, you have light makeup on, a nice outfit, and your heart is light. You’ve never been happier now that your husband is out of the picture. He was a wealthy man, so you got all of his money to use how you see fit. He was so horrible to you so maybe his money will bring some happiness to people when you donate a chunk to different charities.

Bucky shows up right on time, and you give him a smile when he enters your room. You look down and notice some bruising and scabs on his knuckles, and if his metal hand could scar as easily as flesh, he’d have scars there, too.

“Have a seat, Bucky.”

“You look happier.”

You chuckle in amusement. You look Carly through the small glass window who is busy taking calls for you to listen to later. You look back at Bucky who raises his eyebrows in question.

“The following conversation didn’t happen.” He nods in understanding. “My husband is dead. Someone killed him.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a long five minutes.

“Did he deserve it?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Did you break rule number two?”

“I might have,” he smiles, “but I had a really good reason.”

“What reason is that?” you ask and sit back.

“There’s this woman I know, and for the first time since I met her, she actually had a genuine smile on her face… and it is gorgeous. I guess her husband didn’t know what he had when he had her.”

You smile at Bucky.

“No, he didn’t.”

x

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[luxaofhesperides]

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

.

.

.

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!” 

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

[waitingonher]

dating percy jackson

pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

content warning: kissing & couple-ly things

word count: 2,144

author's note: first post on this account!! if any of this sounds familiar, it's cuz i used to have an account but i deleted it cuz i wanted to redo it or smth…LOL 😭😭 but requests are open and i'll be coming out with more original work. enjoy!!

dating percy jackson would be like dating your best friend who you kiss and cuddle with occasionally.

percy’s not a very high maintenance kind of guy, so dating him would be more chill and relaxed. despite this, he’s still so, so incredibly sweet and cares about you so much.

even if he’s very oblivious sometimes…he’s still a sweetheart! 

he’ll do absolutely everything in his power to ensure that you’re safe and alright.

going on quests with him can lowkey get annoying sometimes because he’s always trying to protect you. 

but don’t get me wrong, he knows for a fact that you can definitely handle yourself, but he’s been through so much and the last thing he wants is you becoming injured or worse!! 

his protectiveness comes from a very genuine place, and you know that, but you sometimes like to tease him about it. 

your boyfriend suspiciously eyes the cave you’re supposed to inspect for your current quest, “y/n…” he pauses, turning to look at you, “are you 100 percent sure you’re gonna be okay all alone in there? i don’t like how quiet everything is.” 

you quirk an eyebrow at him, “percy, you’ve asked me this so many times that now i’m starting to think you’re doubting me and my abilities.” 

his eyes widen as he gives you a look of panic, “wait y/n no, i swear i didn’t mean it like that, i was just-” 

you put your arms around his neck, “babe, i’m teasing. i know you wouldn’t do that,” you say, chuckling at his reaction. 

percy rolls his eyes at you and places his hands on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss, “you’re the worst.” 

“i know,” you respond, laughing at your boyfriend. 

if you’re going on a quest without him though…expect him to be 100x more worried about you.

part of him wants to sneak out of camp to join you, but he knows that you’re more than capable of handling a quest without him.

all he can do is just make sure you’re prepared.

nothing, and i mean nothing will be forgotten as long as you have percy.

the night before you leave, he’ll ask you to sneak over to his cabin so he could spend as much time with you as possible.

percy claims it’ll be “a night full of relaxation before your big quest,” but with the way he’s bombarding you with questions regarding your preparedness, you don’t think you’re going to be in for a very relaxing night.

after taking a sip of your tea, you peer over at your boyfriend who opens his mouth to say something, “okay-” 

“love, if you’re going to ask me if i have everything, then the answer is yes,” you utter, leaning in to fix the crooked sheet mask on his face. 

percy chuckles, “how’d you know that’s what i was gonna say?”

“maybe it’s because you’ve been asking me that ever since i got here.” 

he smiles sheepishly, “oh…right.” 

and when you leave in the morning he’s asking you again if you have everything?? as if your supplies somehow vanished as you guys slept the previous night…

iris messages are also a HUGE thing between you guys. 

whether the two of you are away at school, or on a quest without each other, iris messages would be made at every single opportunity. 

cabin sleepovers are a regular for you and percy!

you guys try to have them every couple of weeks and it’s actually a mystery as to how you haven’t been caught yet.

you’ve definitely curated many funny stories of how you’d almost been discovered by a harpy.

percy prefers that you come over to his cabin instead of him going to yours.

this may or may not be due to that one incredibly embarrassing moment where a few of your siblings caught you guys kissing in your cabin’s bathroom… (you and percy were teased for a solid week after that incident) 

it’s safe to say that your boyfriend’s cabin has been the location of all your sleepovers since then. 

you and percy DEFINITELY come up with a really intricate handshake.

it’s the type of handshake that takes more than thirty seconds to complete and consumed most of your free time while you two were memorizing it.

“percy, i love you, but i swear to the gods, if you mess this up again…” 

“um…sorry y/n, but does my leg move this way or that way?” 

but once you and him had the routine down, your friends and other couples around camp were SO annoyed with you guys! 

looking back on it, you two lowkey feel bad for making them watch you guys perform your handshake for minutes on end. 

but what can you say? it’s just too good to not show off.  

you glance up from your interlocked hands with percy and turn your head to face your friends, “okay, are you guys sure you’re looking?” 

annabeth nods tiredly, “yes y/n…we’ve all been watching for the past ten minutes.”

“guys, i swear this is the last time we’ll do it and then you guys can go to bed,” percy announces to the group. 

your friends all collectively let out a groan at the thought of sitting through yet another round of your guys’ handshake. 

you overhear percy talking to one of his friends at the campfire, “okay sure, she might’ve written a song dedicated to you, but did you two create a thirty second long handshake that took literal weeks to memorize? that’s right. i didn’t think so dude.” 

dates are kinda limited at camp, but you guys make do with what you have! 

beach/lake dates are a total must for you and him. 

if you’re not completely confident in your swimming skills, then he’ll take it as an opportunity to teach you!

but if you are a competent swimmer, expect tons and tons of competitions.

whether it be races across the lake or seeing who can hold their breath the longest, you guys have done it all. 

percy then has the audacity to be surprised when he wins every single time…as if he isn’t a son of poseidon?? 

one of your favorite dates of all time was when you and percy went strawberry picking! after picking them, you two attempted to make your own homemade strawberry jam. and to your amazement, it actually turned out okay?? :O

all your friends were pleasantly surprised to hear that no one had burned the kitchen down. 

he also loves to participate in any activities or hobbies that you’re into.

on his own time, percy would try to research or ask your siblings/friends about your hobbies! (he doesn’t want you to find out though) 

he wants to learn more because he genuinely finds them interesting and wants to understand all the terms and definitions of the things you talk about.

but the biggest reason why percy does it, is so he can see your reaction when you talk to him about the subject and he actually responds with an educated answer on the matter instead of his usual head nods! the way your eyes widen and your lips pull back to display the beautiful grin that he’s grown to love so dearly!! it’s like he’s fallen in love all over again. 

once he sees the way you’re smiling at him, he thinks that he wouldn’t mind spending a few more hours in the library. 

percy loves that you show genuine enthusiasm when it comes to his passions and hobbies, so it’s a given that he wants to make you feel the same way. 

if he could, percy could honestly spend all day listening to you talk about your passions. it’s just something in the way your eyes light up that has him utterly hooked.

percy looks at you with such adoration that sometimes you think he’s bored of your rambling.

“ugh, i just love it when-” you gaze down at your boyfriend who has his head resting on your lap. you notice that he’s staring at you, “oh sorry percy, i didn’t mean to bore you.” 

he shoots up out of your lap and looks at you, absolutely dumbfounded, “bored?”

you nod.

“babe, how could i ever be bored of you?” your boyfriend questions with such certainty, as if it were a genuine mystery he wants to know the answer to. 

you give him a shy smile, “i dunno, it’s just you weren’t responding so i thought you got tired of me talking.“

percy smiles sheepishly, “sorry, i just didn’t wanna interrupt you, you looked so happy. and trust me, y/n, i’d listen to you talk all day long if i could.”

you chuckle at his reassurance and lean in for a chaste kiss, “okay weirdo.” 

you guys are that one couple who literally can communicate solely through eye contact. 

someone’s acting stupid in public? you look at percy and he looks at you. next thing you know, the both of you are stifling your laughter. 

on a quest and something feels off? one swift glance at each other and you immediately know what your next plan of action is. 

sometimes it does get annoying though. because now you’re in the middle of a serious camp meeting, tearing up while attempting to hold in the loud cackle you’re both about to let out. 

all because you looked at each other at the wrong moment.

#telapathicconnection

percy also loves it when you wear his clothes!

especially when it’s a jacket or hoodie of his. it’s more personal to percy because it’s not just any other camp half-blood shirt that everyone has. 

he just feels so prideful knowing that it’s you walking around in his clothes. he just goes wild at the sight of you in them. to him, it’s a very effective way of telling everyone that you guys are dating. percy wants the world to know that you’re his and his only! 

one thing about percy is that no matter what, he’ll always make time for you.

oh you’re not feeling well? he’s dropping whatever he’s doing to go see you. you need someone to talk to? he won’t leave you feeling upset, so he’ll create an excuse to leave the sparring arena. 

you obviously do the same for your boyfriend, but you think it’s endearing how he’s so dedicated to you and will do absolutely anything to be there for you. 

when it comes to pda, he doesn’t really mind. his favorite form of pda is hand holding! whether you’re holding hands, linking pinkies, or linking arms, he just loves to show you off while walking about the camp grounds. in general, he just prefers to be touching you in some sort of way. 

at the campfire, he likes to have your hand in his lap so he can play with your fingers. (or your rings/bracelets if you do wear them!)

when you’re in bed, he likes to wrap his arm around your waist. but if you’re not big on cuddling, percy makes sure that his leg is touching your leg, or that he’s at least holding your hand. the list goes on but it’s just his way of telling you that he’s there, by your side!! 

you guys also most definitely have a polaroid camera. one christmas, you gifted him a dark blue polaroid and ever since then, it’s just been nonstop photos of one another. because of the fact that phones aren’t allowed, this is the next best thing to capture memories.

percy can’t even name how many photos he has of you in his nightstand, there’s a lot. so many to the point that he uses an old shoe box of his to hold them all.

but his absolute favorite photo (he keeps this one in his wallet) is a photo of you two sitting on the edge of the pier at the canoe lake. it was taken just after training, sweat drips down both of your temples, and your guys’ cheeks are flushed red. percy is holding the camera with his right hand while he has his left hand wrapped around your shoulders, both of you leaning into each other. and the sun is setting, shades of purples and oranges swirling together to create a gorgeous backdrop for the photo. you two are both smiling, eyes scrunched tightly (partially due to the sun) and teeth wide on display.

he just thoroughly adores your smile.

percy thinks you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. especially when you smile like that. and to think that’s how happy he makes you?? he could die happily with no regrets.

all in all, percy jackson is such an amazing boyfriend who loves you with all of his being. 10/10 would definitely date again!! 

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 200!!!

(huge thanks to this person for the art suggestion!! <3)

I genuinely can’t believe that I’ve made it to 200 days, it’s truly been wild how time flies by like that and the amount of doodles I’ve made during that time. Over 200 doodles (217 to be exact if we’re counting double pictures/extra doodles) have been made over the past 200 days. :0

And thank you all so much for the love and support! Not only have we reached 200 days but also 1400+ followers about a week ago! <3

But, having said that I’d like to make a few announcements—some good, some not so great—about a few things regarding the blog, myself, and other stuff.

Putting it all under the cut so the post isn’t long if you’d like to know more

______________________________

Announcements!

My pfp!

1.) I’ll be changing my pfp again!! I’ve officially decided that after every 100 days or so I’ll change up the pfp so it’s up to date with my doodle style (assuming it changed at all lol), but generally it’ll look relatively the same as the last!

Possibly more admins?

2.) As of right now I’m looking into the idea/possibility of having a second (maybe third?) person help me with daily doodles! As much as I’d like to keep doodling everyday there are some days that it can be tough or some situation might be happening. (i.e. recently got injured)

See, the problem is I don’t exactly have a proper way of trying this out??? My idea was to maybe do this through dms or more preferably Google Forms. I also don’t really know what form of communication afterward would be best either, suggestions to help me work this out would be great! (as you can tell I’m not very good at this stuff lol)

Commissions!

3.) After much consideration and a lot of thought, I’ve decided that in the near future, I’ll be opening commissions again for the first time in years. I don’t have everything set up quite yet, but expect more info in the near future!

About requests:

4.) You may have noticed recently that I haven’t been doing as many doodle requests recently. Sure, there’s usually quite a few in a row at once but you may have noticed I’ve also been doing “non-requested” doodles aka ones that I just do on my own.

Expect this to become a very normal thing going forward. I probably won’t be doing as many requests as before because frankly with the amount of requests I get daily when it’s open is a lot to handle sometimes. Does this mean requests will be stopped entirely? No, I’ll still do some occasionally, but not as much as I have in the past.

Also I’ll likely be doing strictly anonymous requests.

About Burnout:

5.) Alright let’s address the elephant in the room.

There have been quite a few instances where people have wondered if I would ever have burnout and have occasionally joked about “dying” from said burnout because “Silksong will never release, you’ll be doing this forever” etc etc.

In the past I’ve been fine, motivation has been great, but recently I’ve noticed it a little bit.

Unfortunately life has its own plans so it can be a little hard for me to make a doodle that day, expecially recently since I’ve been experiencing personal/medical issues. It’s part of the reason I’m hoping to get a second (maybe third) person to help me do daily doodles so I can take a little bit of the load off my shoulders.

So what does this mean for this blog?

Not much right now. But in the future, there may be some changes. My current plan is to keep going on daily doodles/posts for the length of a standard year, so roughly 365 days. After that, if things in personal life keep up the way they have, I may have to stop daily doodles and instead will post only if I have time. That likely means doodles every other day or every three days or something. At the very least I’ll still post a doodle once a week.

Not to worry though! I’ll still try my best even after I reach day 365 :)

I’ll discuss how things work a little more on my main @miizori later, but that’s as much as I can think to explain rn.

———————————————

Just a few more things I wanted to say!

This community has been so cool to interact with, so much tamer than some others I’ve been apart of in the past. I’m genuinely thankful for how much support and how nice everyone has been. I truly didn’t expect to get this far, I was fully expecting to have stopped like 10 doodles in lol. I especially love to see all your comments in the tags and people sharing their art. You’re all so cool :)))

I have a dtiys from back when I reached 300 followers that’s still available if you’re feeling up to it!

Also my main (again, @miizori) is where I make updates on doodle stuff, regular art stuff and so on if you’re interested at all in that lol

I think that’s all that I can remember wanting to say, so thanks!! I look forward to more doodles for you all :)

[yaut-jaknowit]

How about high tension between a male yautja and human. Where one gets drunk and finally yells that they want to fuck them already.

Tensions Run High

Pairing: Icheall-Dua (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2555

Summary: It was at a gathering for Yautjas and humans alike on a different planet than Yautja Prime. You had been constantly trying to hit up Icheall-Dua and he couldn’t get the idea! So, one night, during a feast of celebration that Icheall-Dua was going to become leader of the clan, you get drunk. A very bad thing. You have loose lips. When you tried again with Icheall-Dua and he doesn’t get it again, you straight up yell it in front of the clan.  

Author Note: I realized this has taken me two months to get to. Sorry that production has slowed down. I've been grinding away at my game. Also, I didn't know if you wanted spicy or not, so I decided to leave it out just encase. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Ao3

Sonorous voices that boomed across the clearing filled the air. Joyous in nature. Prideful for the years to come. Every rise and fall of the suns to bring a life and challenges to the clan. You held up a cup of a drink that was considered alcohol. Between a Yautja and human mixture of potent alcohol, deluded for yourself.

It reminded you of whiskey with the slight burn with each sip you took. A drink not meant for shots. Rather just to take sips here and there. It’ll still knock you on your ass three drinks later. So, you took your time to consume the interesting taste of the smokey concoction.

Despite living among the predators of the universe and showing we are equals rather than enemies, the two species have come together. Some clans as you’ve heard are more reluctant, or rather downright say no, to allowing humans into their ranks.

Others, like the one you live in, are more accepting if you pull your own. You will not be babied. If you die, you die. A kill or be killed world on this planet. This isn’t even Yautja Prime. Yet, its dangers rival Yautja Prime.

You breathed in the marshes stagnant air. Though the division is still evident; Yautjas with Yautjas and humans with humans, you couldn’t help but find yourself drawn to Icheall-Dua. Marsh green and cream bellied. His scales are basic compared to those you’ve seen throughout your time through a few clans.

What Icheall-Dua lacks in different physical aspects, he makes up in his skills. From the words whispered amongst the clan, he’s a prodigy. He’s the next best thing. A male anyone would kill to be but could never get to his level. Yet, no matter how many times you try to send the right signals in Icheall-Dua’s direction, he doesn’t see it! The skulls, the meat, the Yautja way of courting!

Weeks of research were put into this before you attempted the first time. It should’ve been clear as a peacock spreading its tail feathers. No though. He accepted the gifts but never said anything after that.

At first, you drew back to ensure what you read was correct. Skulls of creatures are the first step. You did just that. Yeah, it wasn’t the dangerous creature on this planet but it nearly killed you! His obliviousness didn’t deter you though. You took a slow sip of your drink again, eyes sliding over to the beast that filled your thoughts.

A large cup filled with a similar concoction to your own was cupped in one of his large hands. Two of three fingers missing on that hand. You knew there was harrowing story to explain what happened. A story you would love to listen to with his deep, grating voice. The sound crunchy like stepping on a gravel road. Another sip downed the rest of the liquid.

With a sigh, you stepped around the larger species that filled the space to the bar tender. A night like this was to be celebrated with alcohol always being included.

After living around these guys for a quarter of your life time, you have learned it’s best to slip between them. Some will shift their weight allow you easier access around them. Yet, many have the mindset not to move for anything. You’ve learned to be slippery rather than it becoming a dick measuring contest. Not submission but avoiding unnecessary fighting. Why get wounded if it all could be avoided? Somethings in this culture you’ll never come to understand.

Once you reached the bar tender again, you set your empty glass on the counter and tapped twice. Ci’tha grunted and immediately got to work. Your drink was set in front of you with a tangy tasting fruit on the rim. You thanked the yellow based Yautja with a dip of your head then leaned against the count with your back to it. People watching.

Other humans were amongst the crowd, mingling with mainly other humans. Only a select few were chatting away with the friendlier Yautjas in the clan. None of them dared to go close to Icheall-Dua nor his father who had a permanent scowl etched into his worn features. A life lived through the ways of a Yautja of hunting and gaining scars along the way.

Icheall-Dua went to sip at his cup only to find it empty and shook his cup. You instantly noticed and spun around to face Ci’tha. “Do you remember what Icheall-Dua is having?” you rushed out and jerked your head over towards Icheall-Dua direction. The poor yellow Yautja jolted at the sudden move then glared at you. You sheepishly smiled an apology at him.

Ci’tha rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Why?” he grunted and raised a brow at you.

“Can you make it? Yautja sized?” you sweetly asked the lanky Yautja who stood in your way of impressing Icheall-Dua some more. Though, the two of you didn’t talk on the regular, he could see what was happening. He rolled his blue eyes again before got to work.

The large mug was set before you. You threw a thanks towards Ci’tha before snatching it racing through the sea of bodies. At points, you nearly shoved your way through but reframed from starting a fight. All you had was a mug and a small knife not long enough to hit anything important on a Yautja.

After breeching the main crowd of people, you were able to make your way up to Icheall-Dua standing in all of his glory. His father only a couple of steps away from him, speaking to another Yautja. Icheall-Dua, himself, was crowd watching until you stopped before him.

“Hello… I saw your cup was empty and retrieved one for you,” you spoke up and presented the cup to him. His sky blue eyes looked down upon over the jut of his small snout. Icheall-Dua blinked slowly in boredom, gaze glancing to the cup in your hand.

He reached out and took it. A critical eye peered and inspected the contents. You gnawed on your bottom lip, in hopes he would accept the drink but nothing else was working. Maybe a drink would win him over.

The Yautja raised his shoulders in a shrug and gulped from the cup. You silently cheered to yourself, praying this was him finally noticing your advances towards him.

Next to him, Zutouh, his father, leaned over and scoffed at you. It didn’t deter you though. Through his one good eye, he analyzed you. Not all Yautjas still accept humans into their ranks. The older generations such as Zutouh are part of that. You’re used to it at this point, even dealing with clans who would kill you on sight.

“Great party,” you tried to start small talk in hopes to get Icheall-Dua to open up a little more. “What’s it for?” A closed mouth smile was directed towards Icheall-Dua.

Icheall-Dua kept his nonchalant expression plastered to his face. “I’m becoming the clan leader,” he stated as if it was an everyday thing. You tensed up mid sip of your drink, eyes darting over to his marsh green hide.

Well yeah. Zutouh is his father and the clan leader. Yet, each Yautja usually has a bunch of children. You didn’t know Icheall-Dua was next in line to ascend the throne. By Paya’s grace, you truly didn’t stand a chance against any of the females who would flock to him. Clan leader got you lots of perks. A title Icheall-Dua had to have earned out of all of his siblings.

“That’s amazing! Are you excited?” you kept up with the small talk, using questions to get answers from him. You gulped down a mouthful of your drink again as it started to affect your mind and rational thinking. “Of course, a male such as yourself with that physique definitely deserves that position.”

Drunk words were sober thoughts.

Alcohol gave you loose lips.

Zutouh snorted and shook his massive head in disbelief. You didn’t care though. What you said was true. Icheall-Dua was built well, the prodigy everyone saw him as.

One of his upper manibles quirked up for less than a second yet you caught it. “This is my destiny.” His answer short, barely even sweet. You nearly deflated at that but an idea came to him.

“Well, does your destiny have me included in it?” you flirted with him again like all the times before. You hoped he would finally get the big picture you were waving in front of him.

This caught Icheall-Dua off guard. The Yautja nearly choked on his drink you graciously provided for him and snapped his gaze to you. Hope flickered in your eyes as you noticed you had more of his attention on you. His hand tightened on his cup, claws slightly scraping across the glass wear.

Except, it all faded away when he pulled back that nonchalant expression and shrugged again. You could almost scream at him for that. Your nose flared with a snort, lips pressed tightly into a line. The alcohol in your system not helping one bit. A near glare was settled on the stupid marsh colored Yautja who you’ve pinned for the last few months.

Like a volcano, there’s only so much you could hold in.

“For the love of everything unholy, I want to fuck you!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, fire blazing in your veins while you stared this male down. “I’ve been trying for months the Yautja way to get your attention. And-and nothing! You hadn’t acknowledge my attempts or even told me to stop! I don’t know what I can do anymore.”

It all came out. Ranitng out your horrible experience trying to court a Yautja their way. All this research was false, wrong. It led you on for months and left you to feel this angry… in front of a crowd.

Your shoulders heaved with each lungful breath. The crowd around you had gone silence due to your shouting. The realization struck you, dosing you in freezing cold water. Your shoulders tensed up, eyes wide, glued to the spot. Nothing could make you move until Icheall-Dua took a step towards you.

Then, you spun on your tail and darted between humans and Yautja alike, a stumbling, drunk mess. They didn’t part for you, even when you ran into them but when a shadow gave chase, they instantly let him through. Your arm was snatched in a vice grip that would bruise tomorrow. Heat slammed into your chest, forcing you to pressed to his torso. Tears pooled the lips of your eyes as you looked everywhere but him. You couldn’t see the rage of you interrupting his celebration, of you ruining the night with this silly crush.

Your entire jaw was swallowed up by a hand and forcefully tilted your head back. Through blurry tears, you find his blue eyes on you.

“Say that again,” he demanded with a voice he used to lead. You tried to struggle against him, nearly turning your head enough to bite his fingers. Nothing worked to get him off of you. Icheall-Dua easily far stronger in close quarters… yet, you didn’t want to hurt him anyhow.

“Why? So you can embarrass me in front of everyone. Show everyone how much of a fool I was? To think I had a chance with you?” you snarled then paused for a pregnant moment. He squeezed his hand tighter on your jaw in a short warning. Icheall-Dua wasn’t one to be around humans often, he didn’t understand their fragileness. “Should’ve brushed me off the first time I gifted you a skull.”

None of this would be happening if he had.

“And why would I do that? I was following the advice given to me by your fellow humans for your courting rituals.” If he didn’t have such a tight grip, you would’ve jerked your head back. Instead, you raised your brows instead.

He was following dating advice… What had they told him? Also, dating?! Your heart started to thump loudly in your ears, like war drums. He had gone out of his way to ask for advice.

A lump in your throat made it hard to speak. “What, what was the advice?” you questioned and untensed your muscles. The Yautja responded by easing up his grasp on your jaw and wrist. Icheall-Dua didn’t let you go fully though. Not that you could outrun a Yautja in the first place.

His gaze deviated over to a group of humans who were staring the two of you down. Everyone part of the party was. “Samual said to ‘play hard to get’. It get’s people needy.” Oh, you were going to kill Samual when you had the chance. All these months of torture because that dumbass told him horrible advice.

You couldn’t help the breath of relief that escaped your lungs. Then, you began to laugh and shook in his hold. “That’s the worst advice anyone could give you. No, ‘playing hard to get’ is the worst way to show someone you’re into them.” Your laughter died down. “And I thought my research was a fraud when you didn’t react to any of the gifts I gave you.”

Icheall-Dua growled lowly in his chest and spread his mandibles in a display towards the humans. The group jolted and instantly scrambled away to be hidden away in the crowd. With them gone, he returned his attention back on you. “You did well and everything right. I apologize I wasn’t properly conveying my feelings towards you. Will you forgive me?”

All that tension in your shoulders you’ve been holding for months finally fell off. “Yes, yes. I forgive you and whatever stupid advice Samual gave you. I would say to do research but… that has also bad information as well.” His hand on your wrist released you to cup your waist. Goosebumps immediately rose on your arms. A tingle running down your spine.

“And what were you saying early? If my memory serves correct: you want to fuck me?” Oh god, he just had to bring that up! Heat instantly rushed your cheeks.

“That’s-that’s just the alcohol talking. I’m drunk. Had some drinks… I don’t know what you mean,” you did everything in your power to get him off of that.

“Daring little thing,” he mused and ran his thumb claw across your lips. Just a little more pressure and he could slice the feeble skin apart. “Taking more than they can chew.” You knew you had chosen right. He was still going to fuck with you though.

He leaned down so only the next words were spoken directly at you. “Once this party ends, would you like to start the night back in my tent?” he whispered. Your brain blanked. Not a single thought entered your mind for a long, unknown amount of time.

When some of the fog cleared, you rapidly nodded your head, eager. “My naughty little ooman.” He returned to his full towering height and offered his hand to you. “Come along, I know of seat you wouldn’t want to leave.”

Curses filled your head, the only thing to make sense in your fray of mental words to yourself. The things you could do to him.

[morganski-19]

The One with the Child

Robin and Nancy walk into the café after a long day of work. Stopping when they see Jonathan sitting on the couch reading a book with a toddler sitting next to him, playing with a toy. They share a confused look before walking around the couch.

“Hey Jon,” Nancy leads.

Jonathan looks up from his book. “Oh, hey guys. How was work?”

“Uh, fine,” Nancy says, still confused. “Just one, tiny, quick question.”

“Whose child is that?” Robin points at the toddler looking up at them with big eyes.

“Oh, right, this is Argyle’s niece, Stella. He’s in the bathroom, so I’m watching her for a minute.”

Robin flops on the armchair. “Oh, thank God. I thought that was just a random kid.”

Jonathan gives her a weird look. “Did you think I just stole a child? What gave you the impression that I would do that?”

Robin shrugs. “Someone could have just left the child here. You don’t know. That happens. You would be surprised how many times Steve has had to stay afterschool to sit with a kid whose parent forgot to come pick them up.”

“To be fair, my mom did that a few times when I was a kid.” Nancy pulls one of the other chairs closer. “Only a few times though.”

“My mom did that too. Happens when you’re a single mom.”

Argyle comes back from the bathroom, hair braided down his back. “Hey dudes. You meet Stella?” He sits down on the couch, Stella grabbing his arm and hiding behind it. “She’s a bit shy.”

“Robin thought I stole her.”

Robin makes a high-pitched noise. “I did not. I thought you were picked by a lazy parent to be entrusted with their child. That is far different than stealing.”

“Still doesn’t make it any better.”

Robin rolls her eyes, getting up to go order a coffee at the bar.

“Which sister is Stella’s mom?” Nancy asks, trying to change the conversation.

Argyle tries to get Stella to loosen her grip on his arm but fails. “Julia. She has a job interview in the city today so I’m watching her.”

“And you brought her here?” Robin sits back down with her coffee.

“Hey, this is a family friendly establishment until seven and by then she will be back with her mom. She should be done soon to come pick her up.”

Eddie walks into the café, waving as he orders a coffee at the bar. Doing a double take when he sits down, eyes wide.

“I know I’ve only known you guys for like a year but none of you had a secret kid, right?”

“No, this is my sister’s kid. I’m watching her for a few hours.”

Eddie relaxes in his seat. “Oh, thank God. I could not have dealt with that twice in one week.”

Nancy perks up. “Twice?”

“Yeah, remember my buddy Jeff from high school. Apparently, him and his girl are expecting. Sent me into a whole crisis.”

“Oh, that’s why you were cleaning your room a few days ago.”

“I’m offended that’s why you think I was cleaning, but you’re correct.”

“Why were you having a crisis?” Robin asks over her coffee. “It’s not like we’re not at an age where people we know start having kids.”

Eddie makes a large gesture. “That’s why I was having a crisis. It was the first one of my friends that is taking that next step in life. While I’m still stuck between two jobs, not in a relationship, and a giant fucking mess. Sorry,” he apologizes to Argyle.

“She’s two, she doesn’t know what that word means,” Argyle assures.

Steve comes into the café and sits on the chair next to Eddie. Covering his face in his hands. “If I see another first grader, it’ll be too soon.”

“Bad day.” Robin gives him a sympathetic look.

Steve nods. “Three kids had to be sent to the nurse because they were sick. Three, like visibly sick. They shouldn’t have even been sent in at all. And then the rest were just on edge and didn’t want to settle down after recess. And.” He finally spots Stella on the couch. “One of your sister’s kids?”

Argyle nods. “Yeah. Her mom should be here soon, so don’t worry.”

“I said first graders for a reason. They are monsters. What’s her name?”

“Stella. Do you want to say hi?” he asks her. Stella gives Steve a small wave.

Steve melts a little bit. “You have just made my whole day, Stella.”

A woman who looks a little like Argyle walks into the café. Argyle notices her and stands, picking up Stella from the couch. “Hey, Jules. How was the interview?”

“Pretty good. Thanks for watching her again, I appreciate it.” She takes Stella out of Argyle’s arms. “Did you have a good time with Uncle Argyle?” Stella nods into her mother’s shoulder. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

Argyle shakes his head. “Not at all. Right Jon?”

“Yeah, not at all.”

Julia nods, finally realizing the rest of the group.

“Oh right, Julie, these are my friends. You’ve met some of them. Dudes, this is my sister Julia.”

The group gives a mix of greetings before going back to separate conversations. Julia says hello back before Argyle walks her out of the café.

“It was seriously no trouble watching her, it was nice to see her. And you.”

“I know. Wish I could stay more, but we got to get back.”

“If you need a place to stay, you can chill at our place. I’ll take the couch so you can have a bed.”

Julia shakes her head. “That sweet but I didn’t pack an overnight bag. If we leave now, we might make it before the next rush hour. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you and Jon.”

“Nonsense. You know you’re always welcome at our place.”

“When are you two finally going to cut the crap and get together already. The whole family’s been waiting for it.”

Argyle groans. “Tell me there’s not a betting pool.”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Jesus. I’m not sure we even ever will. He’s like the first best friend I’ve ever had, I don’t want to lose him over some stupid feelings.”

Stella coos, grabbing at her mom’s hair. “We should go before she starts getting fussy. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you will. You might not believe me, but there’s more hope than you think there is. From an outsider’s perspective.”

“So, I can blame you when everything goes up in flames. Nice.” Julie gently slaps his arm. “Call me when you get back, alright.”

“I will. Wave goodbye to Uncle Argyle, Stella.”

“Bye, bye,” Steve whispers with a small wave.

Argyle smiles. “Bye, Stella. Nice seeing you both.”

They walk down the street to where Julia parked as Argyle returns to the café.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

[alessiasfreckles]

amnesia - part 8 (ona batlle x alexia putellas x reader)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7

a/n: sorry guys, had to repost this one due to an issue with the title! anyway, when are these girls going to learn how to communicate??

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“Do you want to do something with Ale tonight, the three of us? I don’t think you’re ready to go out yet, but we can celebrate your leg finally being free,” Ona suggested as the two of you walked out of the hospital. You still had crutches, but the cast had been taken off, and it felt like your leg could breathe again. 

“That sounds great!” you smiled. Ona had barely mentioned the captain since you’d brought her up in conversation just a couple days ago, and you weren’t sure if she had been upset about Alexia’s feelings towards you, but clearly it couldn’t be too bad if she was suggesting doing something together. Plus, you missed the blonde - it had been a while since you’d seen her, if you didn’t count all the times you’d looked her up online.

“What do you want to do? We could stay in, or go out, I guess,” Ona trailed off, looking at your leg uncertainly.

“Go out! Please, for the love of god, I cannot take being cooped up in my apartment any more. It’s bad enough not being able to play football, but not being able to go out much has been killing me,” you implored, eyes wide, and Ona laughed. 

“Okay, okay, we’ll go out. Nothing too crazy, though. There’s a nice restaurant in your neighbourhood we used to go to, we can go there,” she said.

That’s how you found yourself sat between the two women in a booth tucked away at the back of a local restaurant and bar. It was busy, but you supposed it was a Friday night, and it really did feel good to be amongst people instead of in your apartment. 

Something was… off, however. You weren’t sure what it was exactly, but the vibes were slightly strange, like the air was vibrating. You figured that maybe you were just so not used to being around so many people anymore and tried to brush it off. 

“How was training today?” you asked during a lull in the conversation. Glancing down at your drink, you didn’t notice the way Alexia’s and Ona’s eyes met across the table.

“Good,” Alexia said smoothly. “We all miss you, though. Are you looking forward to coming back next week?”

“I won’t be back, not properly,” you grumbled. “I’ll just be there for physio and occupational therapy.”

“You’ll be there, though! It’ll be nice to have you around again,” Alexia smiled warmly at you, resting a hand on your shoulder for just a brief second. 

“I guess,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm up a little. 

“Si, the three of us again, it’ll be just like old times,” Ona added. 

“Old times? Were the three of us together a lot?” you asked, frowning. You knew that you were close with both of them, but you’d assumed that when you and Ona started dating, Alexia would have felt awkward being around the both of you and would have hung back a little. 

“Oh yeah, we were inseparable,” she said, resting an arm on your shoulders. You stiffened slightly under the touch, but Ona didn’t seem to notice. “We were always together. The girls on the team used to joke about all three of us dating, not just you and me.”

“Huh.” Leaning away from Ona’s arm, you moved to get up. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

Once you were in the bathroom with the door locked behind you, you let out a sigh. Splashing water onto your face, you frowned at your reflection in the mirror. You felt weird. Things felt different. Ona was behaving strangely, much more jovial than she had been the past few days, and you felt a flash of irritation. She was behaving like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t been in a coma, like you hadn’t lost your memories, like she hadn’t lied to you. And then there were your feelings about Alexia, which you were still confused about. Frustration about the whole situation bubbled up inside you, and you splashed cold water onto your face again, trying to calm down. 

“What are you doing?” Alexia hissed as soon as the bathroom door swung closed behind you. 

“What do you mean?” Ona asked. 

“You’re acting weird - you’re being way too casual about this, you’re pushing it too hard and too fast!” the blonde said, keeping her voice quiet, as if she was worried you’d hear. “Look, we said we would slowly introduce her to the idea, maybe let her think of it herself. We’re just meant to be making small suggestions, comments, that kind of thing - not telling her that people thought all three of us were dating!”

Ona scowled, not wanting to admit that maybe Alexia was right, that maybe she had been laying it on a little too thick. “We have to make it obvious enough, though, otherwise she won’t even notice it!”

“Of course she will! She’s not stupid, Oni,” Alexia frowned.

“Who’s not stupid?” you asked, appearing from behind the booth. It looked as though the two had been deep in conversation when you left the bathroom, and as you approached the table you heard Alexia’s statement.

“Oh, no one!” Ona said quickly, before Alexia even had a chance to open her mouth. You narrowed your eyes slightly, the speed at which she spoke not doing her any favours. 

“Right…,” you trailed off. So, Ona thought you were stupid. Great. You sat back down between the two, but this time you stayed just out of Ona’s reach. 

“Y/N, how have you been feeling, now that you’ve been home and out of the hospital for a week?” Alexia asked.

“Um, okay, I guess. It’s been a lot,” you admitted, grateful for the change in topic. “I’ve felt a bit overwhelmed sometimes. And I’m frustrated that I don’t remember more, I feel like I should.”

“It’ll come, with time,” Alexia said, placing a hand on your knee. It was warm, comforting. “And if not, we’ll do our best to fill your mind with new memories, isn’t that right, Oni?”

“Yes!” the brunette nodded emphatically. “We can make all kinds of new memories!”

“Thanks, guys,” you gave them both a small smile. 

“How about I get us some drinks?” Alexia suggested, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

As you watched Alexia head towards the bar, Ona hummed thoughtfully.

“Ale looks really good tonight, don’t you think?” she asked.

“Hm?” your eyes flew to Ona, hoping she wouldn’t be able to notice the way your cheeks were flushing rapidly in the dim lighting. “Oh, um yeah, I- I guess?”

“You guess?” Ona let out a gentle laugh, looking over at you. “Please, she’s gorgeous, we all know it. And I thought you said you wrote something similar in your journal?”

“Oh, I, yeah, she,” you stumbled over your words, Ona’s teasing tone catching you off guard. It hadn’t even seemed like she was listening when you’d told her about that. 

The brunette leant in close to you, her hand on your thigh. “Are you blushing, bebé?”

“What- no!” you abruptly moved away from her, letting her hand fall to the seat. What the hell was she doing? Why was she even talking about this?

“It’s okay if you are, you know,” she mused, as if you hadn’t even said anything. “I’d understand if you still had a little crush on her. Who wouldn’t?”

That was enough. Your heart pounding, blood roaring in your ears, you stood up. “I need some air.”

You left the restaurant as fast as you could with one bad leg. You didn’t even notice Alexia leaving the drinks at the bar to follow you outside, and jumped when she put a hand on your shoulder. 

“Chiqui, are you alright? What’s going on?” she asked, her calm voice grounding you.

“Yes, I- no, I don’t know!” you groaned, putting your head in your hands. You didn’t understand what the fuck was going on, why Ona was talking like that, why she was saying those things. Even if she did happen to know how you were feeling, why would she be teasing you about it like that? And what you’d overheard earlier, how she clearly thought you were stupid? 

“I want to go home,” you said quietly. “Actually, no, I- can I stay at your place tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, but what about Ona, don’t you want to stay with her?” Alexia frowned.

“No, I don’t want to talk to Ona right now,” you said, a familiar feeling of hurt washing over you as you thought about her words to Alexia. “Can we just go?”

“Okay, chiqui. But I’m going to go and tell Oni, okay? It wouldn’t be right to just leave her.”

Ona watched Alexia approach the booth, a bad feeling in her stomach. She should have run after you, she should have done something, said something. 

“Is she okay?” the younger player asked, worry gnawing at her insides. 

“Si, but…,” Alexia sighed. “She wants to go home, to my place. She wants to stay with me tonight.”

“Okay, should I come too?” 

“No, Oni, I’m sorry. I think you upset her,” Alexia said gently, not wanting to hurt Ona’s feelings. “But I’ll keep you updated and I will see you tomorrow at training, okay?”

“Oh. Okay.” Ona’s voice was small, and she looked down at the table, refusing to meet the captain’s eye. As she watched Alexia leave, she could feel a pit in her stomach, growing and growing, and she hoped it would swallow her whole.