#Sure he still messes up a bunch so I can hang on to that for now

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 23 thoughts:

So much happened in so few chapters, how do I even break this down?!?

First off, Colin had better stop fucking bonding with my daughter! And apologizing and making amends for past wrongs! I'm a huge fan of redemption arcs and second chances and that is being used against me! JUST LET ME HATE THIS MAN!!!!!!

My bug daughter is in prison but that's almost like, a minor side thing? It barely matters right now except that it gives some background structure. Compared to everything else the prison bit is just . . . a thing.

I'm in tears over bug horse. I'm bawling. I may never recover. RIP Atlas, you were the best of us.

TAYLOR GOES TO THERAPY!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED!!!!!!

I love Jessica so much! She does such a good job. I want to bake her cookies as thanks but I'm not sure if that would trigger some type of conflict of interest.

Fucking Glenn. I want to hate him and love him all at the same time.

Is he an artist? Absolutely! He has a vision and it is beautiful.

But also if it comes down to "letting the world end or compromising said vision" he might be the kind of person who would watch the world burn with a tear running down his cheek, because at least it was beautiful.

Look I get it. My daughter is terrifying. But that isn't because bugs are scary. It's cause my daughter is terrifying. Making her use butterflies just means a bunch of people are gonna start having butterfly phobias.

Like come on, Clockblocker gets to break fundamental forces of the universe and cause people to question their very existence!

Do not try to tell me that someone getting time frozen and just . . . skipping a chunk of time because their mind is not part of the time stream for a few minutes would not provoke some deep thoughts of existential dread! Sure not in everyone, but not everyone is scared of bugs either! I just think it's very unfair.

The Adepts are fun. Sure powers aren't "magic" but might as well have fun with the idea! Besides it seems to be working and if I had powers I'd absolutely love to lean into a magical focus idea.

I am quite upset about the fact that during the whole Thirteenth Hour thing Weaver didn't get to shove bugs down Clockblocker's throat to save him. It would have been so poetic. Saving the day by shoving bugs down throats was still super amazing, I just wanted it to be Clockblocker.

It was the most extreme level of active awareness and minor "control" while being disabled that we've seen from Taylor so far though! Really curious to get more into that, the nature of passengers/shards, and all those things. I have so many thoughts, but they're all just speculation right now (I don't think writing 75 pages of theories that all end up being wrong is really gonna be very helpful).

“If anyone asks, you kicked their asses with butterflies.” Clockblocker gets it!

It was really cool to get more into different vibes of the world with the Vegas section! I love me some thinkers and strangers.

I'm very glad The Number Man used a sniper rifle. I would have been a little disappointed if he didn't after getting into his head in his interlude - it is just the perfect weapon for him. Motherfucker over here just bouncing bullets.

Finally got to see more Bambina after the little bit in arc 8. Her power is wild, I love it! Also Bambina's mom just shot right into the top contenders for "worst parent in Worm". Like, WTF lady.

August Prince is wild. Sucks when the most effective use of your power is "human shield" though.

Considering she had an interaction with The Number Man and Contessa, Taylor actually came out of it pretty good! Sure they lost the target they were trying to bring in, but I don't know that they really had a chance of keeping Pretender. Contessa isn't easy to stop.

The only problem I have with the Las Vegas Wards actions is hiring Bambina to break Pretender free. Otherwise ya, fucking ditch the Protectorate. Given the information they have it makes sense.

TAYLOR HAS FAN MAIL!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Grue's letter was way to heartfelt. Tattletale clearly wrote most of it.

Like come on: "I could hit you, hug you, yell at you and hold onto you for hours all at the same time. It’s fitting that I want to kiss you and throttle you at the same time because that’s what you were to me for a long time. You drive me crazy and I can never understand what’s going through your head." This is totally Tattletale! She couldn't flirt with Taylor in her own letter, she had to be sneaky about it!

"You’re an idiot. I want you to know that. You’re an idiot, Skitter. You’re brilliant and reckless and I’m betting it makes sense to you to do this but you’re an idiot." - also Tattletale.

LOOK I'M GONNA MAKE THIS SHIT GAY AND THERE ISN'T ANYTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP ME!!!!!!!

Imp's letter might be my favorite.

Tattletale's actual letter ends with "See you there, hun?" Just. So fucking gay. Sorry I don't make the rules.

Speaking of gay, Rachel's letter!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wolfspider wolfspider wolfspider!

Like I mean come on

"Being around you wasn’t simple or quiet but things made more sense.  Your minion with dark hair said we need to be around people but I’m around people and still feel somethings missing." GAY

"Going to take puppies to your place again soon. Show the kids to them. Might help." SO GAY

"You have plan, okay. But if your plan means you’re thinking about fighting us you should know I am getting very good at hunting and skinning things." HOLY SHIT IT'S THE MOST LESBIAN THING EVER

"We both stay alive. Try hard." TOP-TIER GAY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!

GGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY

AND THE SCENE WITH THE CHILDREN!!! AND THE BUTTERFLIES! AND THE DICE!!!!!!!!!!!

dies of joy

Seriously, 23.4 is the most beautiful chapter in Worm so far and it'll be very hard for it to be outdone.

I could talk about just that chapter for pages. It was perfect in every way. Even if I knew it had to end with Behemoth pretty early on. There was too much hope in that chapter for it to end any other way.

But in the middle of all that downward "oh fuck it's Behemoth" stuff we got an Undersiders reunion! With so much gay!

Like - “But you guys mean a lot to me.  I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I couldn’t without letting on that something was going on.  You’re my family, in a way.  As lame as it might be, I love you guys.” My head turned from Grue to Rachel to Tattletale as I said it.

SO FUCKING GAY

She starts at Grue sure but ends with Rachel and Lisa when saying "I love you". Certified gay.

So gay that even Imp agrees! Though I've been doing the long drawn out “Gaaaaaaayyyyyyy” since like arc 2. So Imp is a bit behind the curve here.

TAYLOR WANTS TO GO ON A DOG PARK DATE WITH RACHEL! IT'S THE MOST LESBIAN DATE POSSIBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!

Weaver's new flight suit is pretty neat. Dragon is a pretty good big sister.

Cody Interlude thoughts:

THIS motherfucker! I was waiting for him to show up again.

I am so mad. I'm so fucking mad.

Cody is the worst. He's pathetic and dumb.

And Accord just has to go and get killed by him in the dumbest way! GOD DAMMIT ACCORD I SIMPED FOR YOU SO HARD!!! AND THEN YOU DIE TO CODY! OF ALL PEOPLE! YOU CAN'T BE COOL IF YOU DIE TO CODY!

Chevy too! I thought he was cool and all, but he had to die to Cody. God. The worst.

ALSO MY BABY GIRL HE TRIED TO HURT MY BABY! THE ONE WHO ISN'T MY DAUGHTER!

SOMEBODY HELP TATTLETALE!

I did like seeing more of the mechanics of the Yàngbǎn after getting hints about how they work in the Lung interlude.

The power sharing plus the power amplification is a pretty broken combo tbh. Feels like there is some pretty neat stuff that could be accomplished with that.

Fuck this man though. Simmy just had to whisper to him and just dove right in. Cody can't even conceptualize what fighting back means, that would require him to grow as a person in literally any way.

Sucks for the Behemoth fight though. I guess my daughters are going to have to save the day. Again.

[eraserbread]

that first trimester was terrible... but, your husband, nanami, swears the second one is personal

"kento?" you whisper, shaking his wide frame in your arms. he worked all day, so he has every right to his sleep, but you couldn't calm the throbbing between your legs. it's come back with a vengeance after your time in the shower this morning with him, and now you couldn't settle. kento doesn't budge.

"please." you try again, whining in his ear and squeezing the flesh of his chest. "I love you so much... p-please." beads of cold sweat have began to form on your skin, reacting to the throbbing deep inside of you.

where you can't see, kento opens his eyes at once. remaining stoic in your arms. you're humping against his leg, whining sweetly into his back. he lets you, too tired to move.

"can we do it? please?" kissing over his rippling back, the skin blooms red in the darkness of the night bedroom.

if he were a bit more awake, kento would understand and be a bit sweeter, but he was exhausted. "this can't wait until the morning?" he grumbles, still so thoughtful and quiet in his daze.

you won't lie and say his tone didn't strike you, so instead of kissing him again, you press your forehead into his shoulder and pull away.

swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you take a second to catch your breath, whining softly in your throat as the change of position makes your core tremble and cry out for help. you're crushing your thighs together, head hanging between your shoulders as kento drifts back off.

overcome, horny and emotional, you start crying. sniffling and hiccuping in your fist. It felt like every vein in your body was screaming for release, and it's painful.

of course, kento can't truly fall back asleep when you're crying next to him, pitiful and whiny because you refuse to bother him further. he'd have to bother himself, he comes to terms when he sits up, peeling his eyes open again.

"don't cry, now i feel bad." he's muttering, closing his palm over his face to rub some sense back to his features.

"g-go back to sleep." you whimper, wiping at your tears just for more to fall. "I'm sorry, I hate bothering you."

"come here, it's fine. i know what you need." kento refuses to look at a clock -- he refuses to see how much sleep he's losing. it's a problem he'd face five hours from now, not when you're a sniffling mess at his bedside.

"really?" there's a tinge of hope there, excitement buried under your pitiful tone as you turn over your shoulder. he's shirtless, staring back at you through the dim moonlight. hair ruffled, eyes low, lips pressed together. grumpy and sleepy. but, as your eyes trail down his body, you can see the hardened lump in his underwear, peeking from the blankets.

you crawl to him.

straddling his lap is so familiar, kissing down his neck - letting your sweet skin drag across his shaved stubble feels right. he's genuinely letting you do all the work right now, yawning every few seconds as you attack another area of his skin in kisses.

you're starving -- grinding on his thick erection with a drunken fervor. he thinks your eagerness is cute, endearing in the right situations. not when he's so tired.

and you see that just enough to take advantage of it.

sure, he was dozing off, but the second he feels your teeth latch around his nipple, he's shooting them open.

"now, this is just pointless," he grunts, closing his hands over your hunched shoulders as you're sucking and biting at his reddening nipple. you're moving like you're trying to spout milk from him -- left hand massaging his left pec.

"nooo. i wanna."

kento's pulls a hand back to his face, bunching it in a fist as he lets you have your way. if you weren't five months pregnant, he'd throw you back down on the bed and press you so stupid with his cock that you had no choice but to cum, then fall right back asleep.

so, yes -- this was a sticky situation. he wouldn't manhandle his pregnant wife. not without a dangerously guilty conscience to deal with in the morning.

but once you had your fill, pulsating lips switching from nipple to swollen nipple, laced with a handful of his thick, delicious muscle, you pull away and kiss lower. that little dip in attention has kento wrapping his arms around your waist, digging his fingers into the skin as he grabs and pushes you off of him.

you squeak, not expecting such a drastic change. laying out on your side, arms splayed to catch some footing, he's kneeling over you. a hand shoves into the front of his briefs, swallowing a groan as his suffocated cock springs free.

"would you just behave?" that patience is dwindling now as he crawls in behind you. he's shivering slightly, teasing the bead of pre back against the flushed tip of his cock. you're flicking between the lewdness and the look on his face, heart pummeling when you see him bite over his bottom lip.

"y-yes... please put it in." your voice is wrecked, lips tingly and red. he mounts you, long legs splayed behind as he blindly makes that familiar descent between your thighs, trailing against your ass and dipping into your sopping, messy cunt.

he sighs, neck twitching as you slurp him up like you've never been fed before. pregnancy sex is just so different -- so lewd with you and your crying body. there's so much fluid, a mess of slick coating yours and his thighs.

so, it takes nothing -- i mean, nothing, for him to coax that first messy orgasm out of you, and you're squirting everywhere. screaming his name like you're on the verge of death, and he's the culprit.

his big hand clenches onto one of your thighs, fucking you into the wet sheets like a dog as he eases all that cum out of you.

when you're done and dumb with pliancy, you're rolling back over kento when he settles in his spot. your side of the bed is soaked, so you spend all night sleeping right on top of him, belly smushed into his and legs twisted together.

you would definitely hear about this uncomfortable situation tomorrow before he shrugs off to work. you'll also definitely jump his grumpy, tired bones as soon as he steps foot through the front door that evening. you're smiling at nothing anymore, finally satiated and sleepy enough to drift off to dreams about kento and your baby.

[jobean12-blog]

Cookie Crumbles

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: You and Bucky are neighbors and you’ve been subtly flirting for weeks so when his Birthday comes around you make him his favorite treat.

Author’s Note: This was inspired by a lovely little ask my dear friend @lizette50 and because I love these gifs and Bucky and it’s his birthday! Yay! Thanks a bunch sweets and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: cookies and fluff and sweetness🥰

Knock, knock.

“Shit.”

“Bucky? You there?”

“Shit, shit. Fuck.”

“I can hear you.”

“One sec doll.”

He puts down his food and sighs, assessing the damage.

“Fuck.”

The moment he opens the door he forgets the sauce on his shirt, the sight of you stealing all coherent thoughts from his brain.

“You…ok?” you ask as your eyes fall to the red stains on his crisp white shirt and metal arm. “Did you and Alpine get in a fight?”

He laughs. “Nah doll. Just made a mess eatin’ dinner. Come on in.”

He moves aside and holds his door open. You brush past him, and he gets hit with a whiff of the smell of your shampoo, his eyes closing involuntarily and his chest expanding with an inhale.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” you cheer, turning and throwing your arms around his neck.

For a moment he’s too shocked to move but then he circles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck.

“Shit!” he says again.

“More shit?” you ask as you laugh into his chest.

“I probably got sauce on you now!” he explains as you slowly pull away and look down at your shirt.

“Looks like I managed to stay clean,” you giggle. “But whatever that is it looks good.”

“It is,” he responds.

You look back down at the stain on his shirt and swipe your finger through the sauce, lifting it to your lips.

“Mm, definitely yummy.”

His eyes fall to your lips and track the movement of your tongue when you lick them clean.

“Want some?” he says, his voice hoarse.

“After I clean you up.”

You grab his metal hand and bring him to the sink, carefully sliding it under the water until most of the sauce washes off.

“I think there’s still some in between the pieces,” you muse as you turn his wrist back and forth.

“I can get that out,” he says with a smile.

You watch as he steps back and removes his shirt, then with a few smooth movements detaches his arm from his shoulder. When he opens the dishwasher you can’t stop your giggle.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yup. Works great!”

“But we can’t put your shirt in there…”

You tap your chin and then call him back to the sink. Using the cold water, you run the back of the stained section under the water then use the dish soap to gently massage the spot.

“If it’s still not out after we do this a couple of times we can try some white vinegar. Then you can wash it.”

“Thanks doll face.”

“No problem!”

He waits patiently as you work out the stain and when you’re satisfied you hand him back his shirt.

“Wow, not bad!” he says.

You preen with a lift of your chin and a smile and then grab his food, being sure to lean over the counter so when you take a bite the sauce drips onto the foil.

“Mm,” you say through a mouthful. “Worth the stain.”

“You can have the rest,” he says.

“Nah, just wanted a taste.”

You look up and find him staring at your mouth.

“What?”

He steps closer, tentatively lifting his hand and brushing the pad of his thumb along the corner of your mouth.

“Sauce,” he explains before licking it off his finger.

You swallow hard and give him a breathy thanks. The silence stretches between you and the tension builds until finally you blurt out, “I made cookies…for your birthday.”

“Cookies?” he repeats as if the word is alien.

“Yeah. That’s why I came over. To tell you I made cookies.”

“I love cookies.”

“I know you do.”

“Can I have one?” he asks. “Or five.”

“You can have as many as you want. Come on, I just took them out of the oven before I came by.”

“Hang on doll, just lemme get my arm.”

He opens the door to the dishwasher and slides out the rack, grabbing his metal arm. With ease he pops it back onto his shoulder and does a quick set of movements to make sure it’s comfortable.

When he meets you by the door you grab his metal wrist and search the spot where the sauce spilled.

“Really does work,” you say with a smile.

“Every time,” he answers with a wink.

Sliding your fingers down toward his hand you close them around his and tug him out the door and across the hall.

As soon as you get into your apartment you’re enveloped in the smell of buttery sweetness and melted chocolate.

Bucky lets out a wanton moan. “Man, it smells good in here.”

Once you’re in the small kitchen you hand him a napkin and a cookie, watching as he bites off half of it.

He closes his eyes and pops the other half in.

“More please.”

You slide the plate over. “Have as many as you want Buck. They’re for you.”

He grabs another and eats it, the crumbs falling and sprinkling all over his white tank top. Your eyes fall to his chest, and he follows your gaze.

“Oh man. I’m such a…”

“You’re fine,” you tell him. “Cookies make crumbs.”

You gently slide your hand over his chest and brush the crumbs off and onto the counter.

“And they don’t stain,” you say with a chuckle.

“Not unless it’s melty chocolate chips.”

You agree with a nod and bite into a cookie.

“See now you have some melted chocolate on your chin,” he points out.

“Oh.”

You reach up to wipe it clean, but he beats you to it, his thumb lingering on the spot as his eyes wander over your face.

“Thanks for making me cookies doll.”

“Of course,” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

He doesn’t remove his thumb from the corner of your mouth and leans in closer. His free hand cups the other side of your face and his eyes fall to your lips.

You stop breathing when his mouth finds yours, tender and hungry all at once. The kiss is worshipful but clearly restraining an appetite like you’ve never experienced.

As soon as his lips connect with yours, your fingers curl into his tank top, and his metal hand leaves your face to slide slowly down your back and flatten the front of your body against his.

He moans like he’s never tasted anything so good in all his life and he needs more to survive. He comes up for a brief gasp of air, searching your face for any sign of apprehension and when he sees only the same desire reflected in your eyes, he dives back in.

Bucky’s phone goes off, jolting you both out of the moment. He breaks the kiss, his breathing harsh and he stares at your mouth for a few long moments before reaching into his pocket.

“Sam,” Bucky says with a growl into the phone.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Sam sings from the other side. “How’s it goin’?”

Bucky smiles at you, tightening his hold at your back and keeping you tucked close.

“Thanks. Best birthday ever and I’m gonna have to call you back later.”

Before Sam gets the chance to say goodbye, Bucky hangs up, his phone falling to the counter as his lips find yours again.

[artstennisracket]

Stalker!Art

cw: nsfw(18+), masturbation, stalking, breaking and entering, and more stalking, fem!reader

Art had been so good. He hasn’t followed you in almost 3 days. That’s a long time. Not knowing what you’re up to. Well also not really true, he was still stalking all your socials. You had public accounts so that was easy. Late at night, watching your stories from beach days or clubbing with friends with his hand down his pants and shirt bitten between his teeth as he cums.

Point being, he hasn’t physically followed you in three days. No watching you walk from class to class with Andrea (your best friend), no watching your soccer practices from behind the bleachers, and even no sitting two tables behind you in the library while you study from 9-11pm every tuesday and thursday. He has completely left you alone for three days. In a physical sense.

So this was a treat��a reward. For being so good and letting you have your space. At least that’s what he has to keep telling himself as he makes his way through your cracked bedroom window on the first floor of your apartment building.

He doesn’t really know what he’s looking for he just knows he needs something. Rummaging around in your dresser. Bras, socks, bikinis. He even finds the red gingham bikini you wore in your last ig post. Letting his fingers feel the material, shiver running up his spine. But he can’t take this, you’d notice it’s gone.

Making his way to your night stand and bingo. Your panties. So many different kinds. Frilly, lacy, plain cotton, boy shorts, thongs, mesh. He almost melts to a puddle right there. Until he spots it. Your small bullet vibrator. Fuck.

It’s a blur but he ends up grabbing a pair of your panties from the designated dirty clothes pile next to your hamper. Not sure why they didn’t make it into the hamper but he doesn’t care, you can be as messy as you want. Be messy with him. For him. On him. Make a mess all over his fucking cock and—jesus, there’s something wrong with him.

It doesn’t stop him from laying on your bed and pulling his shorts down to start jerking off. Dirty panties bunched up in his fist pressed against his nose. Deeply inhaling your scent, mouth hanging open. Silencing his moans to be as quiet as possible. Breathing picking up.

Grabbing your vibrator to press on the underside of his tip and yeah he isn’t gonna last long at all. Thinking about all the times you’ve used this exact vibrator. Pressing it against your clit, teasing your wet hole. Legs shaking, rubbing the sensitive nubs on your chest. Moaning, borderline crying from how overstimulated you are with the vibrator pressed directly on the bundle of nerves.

He would know. He knows because he’s watched you. Many many times. Peeking through your bedroom curtains late at night. He’s memorized your schedule, you don’t do it every night but the nights you do it’s always around 12am. So he’d just wait, every night, outside your window. Most times you’d just fall asleep but some nights you’d reach into that same nightstand drawer and go at it.

Thinking about that one night you came three times, with your voice muffled by your pillow. Face down ass up, surprising yourself when you squirted for the first time ever. Art almost came in his pants on the spot. But now he doesn’t have to hold back, cumming all over himself as his abs flex.

Wiping it up with your dirty panties, stuffing it into his pocket. Making sure to leave everything else exactly where he found it.

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[shoeistars]

adrenaline rush !

incl. isagi, bachira, kunigami, reo, nagi, barou, rin, shidou

ʚଓ outline. there’s something different about the way he fucks you post match

ʚଓ w. 18+ content, minors dni, pro!characters, fem!bodied, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise

isagi !

It’s always the same. Not to say that Isagi had boring sex game— no, there is zero truth to that. Win, lose, draw, he had this primal feel to him once all was said and done on the pitch. Sweaty, a little flushed in the cheeks and ears, total tunnel vision because the one thing he wants after a game is a warm and wet pussy to sink into.

The hotel bed didn’t stand a chance, really. It has probably seen its fair share of fucking, has likely withheld many bumps and breaks. Each thrust caused an annoying creak to echo into the air, a small little cry for help that fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t the type to settle for a quick fuck but home was miles away and he was an impatient man. The walls were blank, the sheets wrinkling and coming undone from each corner of the mattress, bunching right underneath your spent body as he works you out further.

“Is there a reason why you’re bein’ quiet?” The rough cut of Isagi’s voice questions into your right ear, body mounted on top of yours as if to mimic that sweet and victorious moment of a predator capturing his dinner. There’s a rhythm to his hips as he plows you from behind, not quite hitting deep and merely focused on speed alone.

His hand, the one not curled loosely around your throat and threatening to cut off your oxygen supply, kneads at the crease of your hip meeting your thigh. It would feel like a rather loving touch if he weren’t battering into your guts to chase his own high. It goes off course and dips between your thighs, pawing gently at the mound of your hot cunt before introducing his middle and ring finger in a slippery dance against your clit.

“That’s fine, you don’t gotta say a thing,” He drawls on, choking on a groan at the feeling of you pulsing so delicately around his cock. That egoist that the field loves to see so much shines through even hours after he’s left the grass, after he’s ditched the cleats. It seeps out of his pores, it leaves his throat in the form of snark and cockiness. You’ve always told him how much you adored it when he got into his flow, anyway. “This pussy tells on you every fucking time.”

bachira !

Endorphins flooding his brain, Bachira can barely see straight. Every single win under his belt has felt the same, gave him that same smile and that familiar rush. There was nothing like reaching the tip of the iceberg and collecting yet another accomplishment in his career. He’s always been the type to celebrate by stretching the party, by chasing drinks and good food and enjoying company.

One of his favorite ways to celebrate a good and clean win is to have you spread out on the bed. As much as he misses his funky room back at home, the one filled with colors and his personality— the provided living quarters would have to suffice. Door locked, plenty of activity going on just outside. Bachira wasn’t himself if he weren’t living on the very edge.

Lips suctioned to your pussy, he can only smile at the feeling of sharp tugs assaulting his long hair. He’s still damp with sweat but you never seemed to mind, surely not when he was sucking you up like his last meal. He’s gotten the hang of going down on his girl after plenty of years, twisting and turning his tongue against your throbbing clit with technique. “Meguru, don’t stop,” you mewl rather loud, thighs twitching and toes curling against his shoulders.

“So loud,” he snickers against your pussy with glossy lips and lidded eyes, moaning softly against your folds before he’s pulling back to spit a thick glob onto your hole. His thumb dips down to smear it along your lips, biting his own at the erotic view before pushing the mess right back into your cunt. “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

The beautiful thing about a man as patient as Bachira was that he could do this for hours, sucking and licking and kissing. Nothing got him harder than getting you off, than suffocating in your cream and your scent. He had time.

kunigami !

Blue Lock as a whole ruined your boyfriend. He was never the same, never would be. There was a lack of spirit in him that was once his one unique quality. Everyone who knew Kunigami grew to adore him because he really was just a friendly face. Now, soccer and everything to do with the sport only brought out this nasty side to him.

The first time you were able to reunite was messy. Post game, he would normally stick to something easy. Nice dinner reservation, a little bit of harmless fun afterwards. That Kunigami was left in the goddamn dirt, replaced with someone who still loved but in such a drastically different way.

He was mean. Of course, you’d adapt. He would still remain loyal and considerate, would still make sure you were taken care of after all was said and done. There was just an animalistic dominance to him in the bedroom that was so unrecognizable to what once was. He was ferocious in the way he guided you down to your knees, slapping his thick and heavy dick against your cheek once, twice, three times for good measure.

Grunts and groans filled the room, never a quiet guy. The old Kunigami was gentle and even a bit timid but the way he fucks your face now is the opposite. Spit dribbling down your chin, throat nearly bulging with the head of his cock, gags so forcibly loud that they’d be leaving your voice hoarse. Your hands are shaky as they attempt to curl around the thickness of his quads, begging for a break. The sight only makes him scoff.

“Make me cum,” He demands, quiet yet filled with a sharpness that made you squeeze your thighs together. “Earn it.”

reo !

The time and place doesn’t matter— Reo will always be a sucker for missionary. He’s a yearner, he loves so deeply and a hundred wins could never compare to watching your face when he’s laying it down good. The furrow in your brow, the scrunch of your nose. Bliss always looked best on you and he just wouldn’t be him if he didn’t spoil you rotten.

Stupidly expensive chain dangling right in your face, the metal swaying with each hard thrust. Reo hasn’t blinked once since getting you on the leather sofa, focused on what you respond best to. Not a single twitch could go unnoticed by him and he’d be damned if he doesn’t get your cross-eyed, if he doesn’t get you singing by the time he’s done making a sloppy mess of you.

“So cute,” He whispers sweetly, a little tipsy from the after party that the two of you returned from just shy of an hour ago. Your makeup left messy trails and streaks all over but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t add to it all. Liquor staining his lips, he can’t help himself from diving down for a needy little kiss. Lips sliding against yours, just a ghost of a touch, almost missing and pecking at the corner of your mouth instead.

Your legs ache from how high they’re settled, heels propped on his shoulders. He’s gotten big since his first big steps at chasing a professional career, the protein doing what it was supposed to do. Your ogling of his physique was cut so short as he snuck a hand between your legs, circling at your clit with percision. He had a one track mind and that was to get you squirting, to get you feeling just as good as today has felt for him.

“Show me how wet this pussy gets for me,” Reo punctuates his plea with faster circles, deeper thrusts, unable to help the satisfied grin that tugs at his lips when you only grow louder. “Make me proud. Nut on my dick, know you can do it.”

nagi !

Not a lot of things come to impress Nagi Seishirou. He’s hard to capture the attention of, going through life with simplicity and preferring to stick to his guns. It was a shock to everyone who knew him when he landed a girlfriend in the first place. The same guy who disregarded everything that required the bare minimum amount of attention managed to score? It was almost too good to be true.

It was fair to assume that after years of learning how to be present, how to be a fair and decent boyfriend, he could never go back. Not after getting a taste of you, not after feeling the highs that you managed to pull straight out of him like a puppet to your string. You opened so many new doors, you were good for his mental.

The best way to spend a good night is to make it even better. Your thighs straddle his, the fancy little number you wore for such a big game ridden up and out of his way. Pussy leaking like a faucet, the sounds of you bouncing your hips is embarrassingly loud in the backseat of your car. The two of you just couldn’t wait.

“Look so good tonight, baby,” He practically slurs, pussydrunk and successfully knocked from all of the theatrics of the night. He can never seem to think straight once you’re on top of him like this, tits bouncing right in his face, wrapped around him like a serpent. “Know that? Did I already tell you? I’ll tell you a million times.”

Oh, how he would. He would do whatever the hell you want if you’d just stay like this, wrapped around him like a vise, squeezing him hotly. You were his dime piece and he’d be an utter fool to not bend at your every beck and call.

barou !

Naturally, his first order of business after hours of playing on the same standing grounds as a bunch of sweaty neanderthals is to hit the showers. There’s nothing that he hates more than the way his jersey sticks to his back like glue, the skin of his forehead dewy. What he wasn’t expecting was his little plus one to trail on in after him, clothes long ditched as you slot yourself into the tiny compact stalls of the stadium’s complementary showers.

You know him by now. You know that whether he ate a loss or devoured a victory that he wasn’t much of a talker after exerting himself in the hot sun. Nearly running on empty, this was the one and only time that the stupidly buff man was dead silent. Zero complaints left him as he wrapped a wet palm around the nape of your neck, brushing lazily at the hair there with his thumb, angling upwards until he could latch his lips to yours.

Slow kisses and gentle touches, there wasn’t much energy left for a rough fuck. Barou was a thorough lover at the end of the day, showing his gratitude of your endless support by making your pussy soak him sloppy. The sensuality made up for the lack of output, so tender and passionate in ways that screams his love without making him verbalize it. God forbid he ever did that.

“Oh, I know,” he purrs against your swollen bottom lip as he sinks in, sheer strength keeping you held in his arms, back against the cold tile of the shower. Your hearty whimpers bounce off of the walls and he swears it’s his favorite sound. It’s always a challenge to take such a thick cock and he’s nothing if not a gentleman. “It’s so deep, huh? You’re taking it so well, though.”

It always makes him bite back a grin of pride when your nails claw at his shoulders, leaving nasty marks into the meaty flesh— a last resort at gathering your bearings before he fucks you so out of your mind that you threaten to pass out every single time. The sounds are filthy as he pours every last bit of his effort into you, tiring you out to match.

rin !

Soccer invokes plenty of strong emotions out of Rin as a whole. The pitch is the one place where he can unleash everything, where it genuinely counts. Post match? He gets rather passionate, in his feelings, raw and open like a fresh cut. It’s clear that he puts his full effort into every little detail of his day, that he considers everything a waste if not done to the fullest.

Simply put, if you aren’t shaking purely from overstimulation and pleasure, he isn’t done. A man akin to a machine, stamina blessing him with several rounds in the tank, there’s no telling just how long he’ll keep you in the same position. Body pressed into the bed, twitching against the wrinkled sheets, weakly holding onto a pillow as your final saving grace.

“Shit, that’s it,” He hisses as soon as he feels the tight, hot grip of your cunt wringing him. It’s the fifth he’s managed to pull out of you, keeping you perfectly bent until you physically give out. Times like these, sweat glistening down your back and thighs quivering as if they’re ready to snap are his favorite.

A hand reaches until it hits skin. It runs along the nape of your neck, sticky and dewy yet so intimate. His fingers dip down to cup your chin, light in the way he forces you to look over your shoulder. Your eyes connect and it has you breaking all over again, doing your best to keep them open as you cum almost on instant. Balls clapping your swollen clit with the sheer angle he’s hitting, so deep in your guts that it hurts. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

No, you were the love of his goddamn life. The one person he looked for in a room full of people, the only one who’s seen every inch of his body. He could never be worthy of you if he couldn’t fuck you to sleep with ease.

shidou !

Shidou on the field and off of the field are arguably the same person. Still eccentric, still too inappropriate for his own good. He brings levels of excitement that are otherwise hard to reach and truly, it’s difficult to keep up with him. Marching to the beat of his own drum and seeking fulfillment is what gives him his drive, its fuel for his fire.

The hospitality was his favorite part of the Blue Lock journey. He outperformed majority of the selected players and he was rewarded in turn, given luxuries and spoiled to the nines with catering and amenities. His suite was huge and he’s already fucked you in every corner of it, every surface. It’s not his until it’s tainted with him, after all.

“Shit, I needed this after today,” His voice rasps in your ear, the hard plastic edge of the hot tub that he’s got you bent over successfully digging into your ribs. Bubbles and suds clap into the air with each thrust, water gently rocking into a splash as it spills past the confines and drips onto the concrete of the balcony. It was a beautiful night after a beautiful win and nothing could make this better for him. “Water’s so warm. Do you like it too? Huh, gorgeous?”

When a dick that long was forcing itself into you, in and out like a sick song, kissing your cervix with each hit— words were hard to come by. Moans and gasps rupture from your throat as you try to muster a nod, grasping at the slippery corner of the hot tub for dear life, his pelvis smacking against the globes of your ass hard enough to sting.

He stops, so cruel and mean, dick still fully lodged in your walls. Pressing deep, hugging your aching sides and tugging you into his chest, he plants sloppy wet kisses along your cheek. “C’mon,” Shidou sneers with a smile, downright evil in the way he brings a hand up to grip your face between his fingers. “Good girls speak when they’re spoken to.”

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙new fav wag | LS2˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: logan sargeant x williams social media admin!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: none jus fluff

summary: in which the internet knows you're in love before you do

a/n: I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE NEWS DROPPED SO LET'S JUST PRETEND NOTHING HAPPENED FOR NOW IM SO SORRY

request!!!: logan fic or smau where the reader is williams’ newest social media admin?? and logan immediately is crushing on her, and the fans are trying to speculate why logan is suddenly so smiley in a bunch of the clips and videos posted on the williams ig or doing a bunch of challenges on the williams tiktok page (and alex is totally laughing his ass off)

my masterlist

fc: annie.shr

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, yourbff, and others

yourusername bits & bobs 🫶

view all comments

user7 omg? how is she so gorgeous

user8 oh the garage pic lol so she's 100% the right girl

user9 wish i was her omg

user10 omgg. i'd be happy looking at her too 👀

user11 real. can u blame logan lollll

lilymhe prettiest girl!!

yourusername ilysm <3

yourbff im kissing you rn

yourusername i wish!!

user12 does she have a bf? second pic

user13 no one knows lol

user14 logan found dead

user15 logan in the likes too hehe he's down bad

user16 can u blame him

lilyzneimer miss you babe

yourusername miss u sm

user17 omgg she's friends w lily?!!

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, logansargeant, and others

yourbff YESSSS got you all to myself

yourusername hmm, almost

yourbff boo party pooper

lilymhe wow

yourusername oh stop it you

user23 omg ruff ruff ruff ....

user24 so stunning omg

user25 i wish i was u

user26 logan found dead

logansargeant cant wait to relax a bit!

yourusername well deserved 🩵!

logansargeant thanks :) would love to hang out sometime if your free?

yourusername for sure i could find some time!

logansargeant awesome!

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, lilyzneimer, and others

user27 WOWWWW

user28 omg she's gorgeous

user29 wow wow wow

lilymhe omg wow. williams admin off duty is 🔥🔥🔥

yourusername HAHAH stop!!

yourbff meeeeowwww!!!!!

liked by yourusername

logansargeant wow. any chance we could turn that hang out into a date instead? 👀

yourusername HAHAH LOGAN

logansargeant ...well?

yourusername oh wow ur serious. well yes of course

logansargeant cool, cant wait.

twitter ->

messages ->

interview ->

transcript -> y/n (behind the camera): so how was your guys’ two weeks off? logan: good! the rest was really needed for me, and you, alex? alex: well, we can focus on you for a minute still, or both of you actually! *laughs* y/n: haha very funny alex, i dont think people want to hear about my break though

twitter ->

*accidentally messed up the user numbers lol but who rly cares*

instagram ->

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and others

logansargeant lil update

view all comments

user39 second pic?????

user40 HELLOOOO

user41 soft launch...? 👀

user42 love when he hangs out w alex omg <3

user43 love youuu logan

user44 this is sooo bf

alex_albon my guyyy

liked by logansargeant

oscarpiastri great race this weekend 🤟

logansargeant 🔥

user45 there's no way the 3rd pic was logan alone

user46 legit it's too girly

user47 y/n was here? 👀

liked by alex_albon

user48 HAHA alex liking this comment 😭

user49 lol he ships them so hard

williamsracing love the first pic 😎

liked by logansargeant

user50 no rizz

user51 she's a professional let her live x

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, yourbff, and others

user52 OH MY GODDDD

user53 this is so logan

lilymhe why are you gatekeeping information from us

yourusername !!!!! dramatic. all in good time

user54 omg obsessed with this lil date

user55 love this sm

user56 soulmates a bit 👀

yourbff text us BACKKKK

liked by yourusername

messages ->

instagram ->

lilymhe posted a story

liked by alex_albon, lilyzneimer, and others

alex_albon just look at them!

lilymhe oh new love 🥰

oscarpiastri they gonna be mad at this

liked by lilymhe

user57 god.

user58 ME WHEN

user59 y/n & logan fr.

user69 confirmed much?

user70 if no one else got us i know lily muni he got us

liked by lilymhe

yourusername 📍 miami

liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer, and others

yourusername usa usa usa usa usa usa usa usa

view all comments

user71 GIRL WE KNOW UR DATING

user72 obsessed with everything about this.

user73 on god i love them

user74 she's just too beautiful

yourbff i love u so much

yourusername love u w my whole entire heart 💓

user75 the second omg yeehaw much

logansargeant 🇺🇸

liked by yourusername

user76 okay.

user77 you alr know he was fighting back the urge to profess his love for her

user78 he looks so good in the third pic omg

user79 hottest blondies in the world fr

lilyzneimer out of this world beauty!!

yourusername dont be silly you angel

lilyzneimer 💓💓💓

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates posted a story

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, and others

user83 NO. WAY.

user84 OH MY GOD FINALLY

user85 finally some proof

user86 ahh not them being caught red handed 😭

user87 obsessed w them omg

user88 CUTIESSS AHH

messages ->

instagram ->

logansargeant posted a story

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and others

user89 LOGOATTTT

user90 omg points & hard launch all in one weekend i feel dizzy

oscarpiastri eventful weekend for you!

logansargeant 🤔 just a bit

oscarpiastri congrats you deserve it 💙

user91 HARD LAUNCHHHH

user92 y/n lucky charm fr fr fr

user93 u will alwaysss be famous

user94 LOGOAT IN THE POINTS

user95 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

user96 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and others

yourusername okay fine have the hard launch!! 🥰

view all comments

user97 what a rollercoaster it's been

user98 SO HONOURED TO HAVE BEEN APART OF THIS JOURNEY

user99 how did he do it fr

user100 literally. spill the secrets logan

lilyzneimer most gorgeous couple!!!

yourusername no u xxxx

lilymhe pair of stunners

yourusername ly <333

yourbff MY ANGELLL ILYSM

yourusername love you love you love you!!!

alex_albon wow finally. i was in the trenches for a minute there

yourusername dramatic much? 🤨

alex_albon no? why?

logansargeant no comment from me

user101 oh to be in their gc

user102 too beautiful

user103 wow thts williams admin fr...

logansargeant new fav wag!

yourusername 🤨🤨🤨🤨

logansargeant lol! i love you

yourusername love you unreal amounts 🥹

THE END 🩵

[grapejuice32]

Thigh Riding

florist!reader x older!rafe

warnings: thigh riding, daddy kink, video taping

word count: 1.1k +

It was a weekend, and he was working. Sure, he was at home, and he had a big conference coming up, but that didn’t mean you had to be okay with Rafe ignoring you. Maybe ‘ignoring’ was a tad dramatic, you were sat in his lap after all, just as you had been all morning, Rafe leaning down to press kisses to your head every so often, his eyes never leaving the screen of his laptop as he typed. 

But he hadn’t spoken to you all day, well, for about an hour. So, he was basically ignoring you. It didn’t take very long of you sulking for him to notice, “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

You shook your head, “Nothing.” 

He scoffed a laugh, he could read you like a book. He wasn’t buying it. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.” 

“You’re neglecting me.” You pouted, his brows raised but he wasn’t all that surprised to hear the statement from you. 

“Are you not sat in my lap?” 

“Well, yes but I-“ he cut you off, his voice firm but not cruel. 

“Am I not still tending to you despite trying to work?” 

“Yes, but that’s not the-“ 

“So stop whinin’.” The words didn’t do anything but worsen your mood, your posture slumped. It didn’t take long until he grew fed up with your sulking and asked, voice stern. “What do you want?”

“Just want you to touch me,” you shrugged, it didn’t seem like such a big deal to you. Surely, he could stop working just for a little bit. He placed a hand on your thigh and gave you a look, as of asking if this was what you wanted, but you shook your head. “Want you to touch me properly. Please?” You blinked up at him. 

Rafe only sighed and lifted you, moving you so you were straddling one of his thighs. You looked at him in confusion. “Go on then,” he nodded towards his leg. 

You didn’t understand, how was this any better? “Huh?”

He ran his tongue over his teeth, growing impatient. “Like this,” he placed his hands on your hips and rolled you back and forth on his clothed thigh a couple of times until you understood. “I don’t have time t’touch you, okay? So this’ll have to be enough.” 

At that he went back to working, typing email after email and hitting send. You didn’t move for a while, this wasn’t exactly what you’d wanted. But upon realising he really wasn’t going to touch you, you started to move back and forth, trying to mimic the way he’d shown you, but it wasn’t the same. You were too lost in trying to make it feel good that you hardly noticed the way he had stopped typing, his eyes fixed on you as you struggled. 

“I can’t,” you whined. “ ‘s too hard daddy, I can’t do it.” You looked up at him to find him already watching you, he sighed as he took in your wide eyes that lit up at his hands took hold of your hips again. 

When he started to help you, it began to feel good. He bounced his leg up and a whimper escaped you, starting to get the hang of it as his muscular thigh made contact with your covered clit. Your lips parted as you held onto his biceps for support while you rode his thigh, sighs and moans of his name the only sound you made besides your heavy breathing. 

His thigh was toned from time in the gym and when he clenched the muscles together, providing a harder surface for you, your eyes watered. “Feel good?” he asked knowingly. You just nodded, your eyes closing and your head falling back. “Keep going, baby. Want you t’make a mess on daddy’s thigh, yeah?”

You whined as he stopped you for a second, one of his hands leaving your hips so he could pull your underwear to the side, your dress having bunched up around your hips a while ago. He tapped your thigh, signalling you to start moving again. The contact of your bare clit against the rough material of his jean clad thigh had you rutting desperately against him, chasing your climax like a dog in heat. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you cried out, not sure what you were asking for, it all felt too good. 

Rafe hummed lowly, “C’mon, let go f’me. Make a mess for daddy.” It was like the words opened the floodgates as your orgasm crashed into you, your thighs shaking as you froze on top of him. He used his leverage on your hips to keep you moving, riding you though the high of your pleasure, spreading your cum along his thigh as he did. 

Before long, you were whining out that it was too much and that you felt too sensitive. Surprisingly, Rafe listened and stopped. Instead, he lifted you so that you were curled back up on his lap like you had been before, the wet patch on his thigh standing out like a sore thumb. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, your face heating up. 

“Baby, you’ve just made yourself cum on my thigh,” he looked at you pointedly, “don’t go getting’ all shy on me now.” 

“I ruined your jeans,” you continued, looking at the spot where you’d just been, your juices smeared along the fabric. 

“It’s perfect,” he smirked, leaning down to kiss you. “Now, can I get back to work?” 

You frowned, “But what if I need you again?” 

He gestured to his ruined thigh, “Then ‘m right there, you know how to do it now, don’t you?” You nodded, and he pulled your panties down your legs. “Exactly, so there’s your answer. Jus’ make sure you keep it down okay, ‘m goin’ on some calls now.” With that he seated you back on his thigh, stuffing your panties into your mouth. He hadn’t given you much time to regain your energy, but you shouldn’t have expected anything else.

So, you started to move again, your moans muffled by your ruined panties and drowned out by the sound of Rafe’s voice as he began his calls. How much of the sound of your moans was caught on the phone, you weren’t sure, but the smirk on Rafe’s lips told you all you needed to know as you pulled orgasm after orgasm out of yourself until you collapsed against his chest, his jeans thoroughly soaked and surely ruined.

So far gone that you hadn’t taken notice of the blinking light of the camera on his desk, videoing every moment for him to go back and make you watch later when he would get you off to the sight of you making yourself cum on his leg over and over again.

[stargazedwinchester]

pls PLS if it's no bother could u write something where sam is YEANINGGG, like that man would dive into a body of water bc u were in it type yearning, and also like (possibly if there's a pt2) shoulder kisses, im a firm believer sam is a shoulder kisser and he'd kiss your fingertips n be a reyt gentleman

no bother if u can't btw, pls don't put pressure on urself and make sure u take care of urself, drink lots of water n EAT, uk heat is brutal (as a victim myself who passed out Imao) but this shite ain't abot me lol

anyways yars love ur work smmmm, especially the doctor sam stuff🛐🛐

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `lover boy, sam winchester ༘♡

summary: sam is the biggest lover boy, but has always been far too shy to show it. but after a quick hunt and watching the sunset together, his feelings are revealed. word count: 659 pairing: sam winchester x reader girl tell me about it!! i seriously feel like im in the desert rn but im only in yorkshire lol 💔 ily girl pls don't overheat and die (i will never ever turn down a sam fic bc thats my little princess <3 also i will do a part 2 & 3 to this, part 2 based after this (a big fat bunch of fluff and shoulder kisses), and part 3 being before the confession (him longing for u and always being too shy to say something)!! i have plans for this so please bare with me lol) part 2 part 3

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

It’s late in the evening, the kind where the air still hangs with warmth from the day and the sunset is still creeping in. It’s summertime, and you’ve just finished a hunt with Sam, leaving Dean back at the motel.

Sam has been quieter than usual lately. His eyes always seem to find you, even if you weren’t paying attention.

You’re sitting on the hood of the Impala, basking in what’s left of the sun and the sound of crickets chirping in all directions. Leaves and branches crunch under Sam’s boots as he walks over to you. He leans against the Impala, his broad frame lightly grazing you, his hands shoved deep in his jean pockets.

He isn’t looking at you, but you can feel it. The tension. Hot and steady, like a weight pressing down on you. You can tell he’s holding himself back. You’ve seen this before—you know what it means, but something about tonight feels different. Unspoken and undeniable.

“You okay?” You turn your head, your voice breaking the silence.

Sam’s eyes glance at you, blinking once before they drift. He nods. “Yeah.”

“You’re thinking about something,” you murmur, trying to sound casual, but your heart rate increases. He smirks.

“Always thinking.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You shift slightly on the hood; the metal is warm beneath you. The space between you and Sam isn’t really space anymore, more like a hum. A current that’s pulling.

“You’ve been quiet lately.” You say, and he exhales through his nose. “Didn’t think you’d notice that.”

“Like I said, I’ve noticed.”

That gets him, his gaze finally landing on yours. It’s soft and heavy, like a confession sits right in front of you. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

You swear he’s going to say something else. Something that’ll tip the weight of everything hanging in the air between you.

But he doesn’t.

Of course he doesn’t.

Instead, he looks past the trees, where the last pinks and golds of daylight fade into blue.

You follow his gaze.

“It’s pretty.”

There’s a slight pause.

“You’re pretty.”

And then something shifts.

He moves, barely—just enough to reach out, brushing his fingers over your hand where it rests beside you on the hood. Sam’s touch is featherlight, reverent, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he holds on too tight. You don’t move away, though. In fact, your breath catches.

“Sam?”

“I didn’t wanna say anything,” he murmurs; “didn’t want to mess things up.”

You tilt your head, your heart pounding. “Mess what up?”

“This. Us.” Sam’s eyes fall to where your fingers rest under his. “I can’t help but watch you like you’re unattainable. Like you’re just out of arm’s reach. The way I feel when I’m around you—it’s not just… nothing.”

You swallow hard. “It’s not nothing.”

His shoulders drop, like he’s been carrying the biggest burden on his shoulders. The tension lightens between you both, floating up into the evening sky.

“I keep thinking I’ll get over it,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But every time I try and pull back, to give you space, I… I just want to be closer.”

You don’t speak. Instead, you lean into him, slow and unsure, hesitating as if you’re giving him the reins.

Sam meets you halfway.

The kiss is soft, barely more than a breath. The kind of kiss that asks, not takes. The kind that promises more if you want it.

He pulls back, his eyes still closed, and you can feel his forehead rest against yours.

The crickets fill the silence again. The air cools just enough for you to notice how warm he is next to you.

Neither of you speak. You don’t need to. Not yet.

You feel it. In your chest. In the brush of his fingers, the way his thumb traces the back of your hand. In the way he doesn’t move away.

There’ll come a time when you say it. Out loud.

Later.

[smallestapplin]

A sweet turn of events

This is a commission! @reallyshadowycollective thank you!🩷

Warnings : Optimus gets hurt, fluffy and cute ending I looked up the stages of courtship for this. Spark bonding. Everyone is fine dw.

-

-

Being Optimus’s partner was wonderful, he was always so kind, devoted, even at his busiest he’d still find a way to be there, for such a large bot he treats you like a prized treasure, loved and cared for. Being with Optimus for so long gave you an edge, despite being much smaller than the autobots around base, you were considered a boss of sorts, the only bots who’d still talk back to you were Prowl and Ratchet.

Though it also allowed you to bully your way passed Bulkhead and into the medbay after hearing so much commotion, knowing they had come back from a patrol and something went wrong, you weren’t expecting to see Ratchet and Wheeljack looking panicked, hovering over a badly damaged Optimus’s open spark chamber.

“Our tools can’t reach back there.”

“It’s too close to his spark, if we aren’t careful…”

“He’s still losing a lot of energon, that peice of scrap metal there. H-hey, why are you here?”

Wheeljack finally noticed you, his optics wide as he rushed over, trying to usher you out. Ratchet tries to hold a glare but it’s clear he’s worried.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened.”

Despite Wheeljack holding you tightly in his servos, he pauses, looking back between you and Optimus.

“An ambush on a routine patrol, boss bot took a hit or few for some of the others. We ain’t got much time, we need you to-“

“Let me help. You said your tools can’t reach where it’s needed, right? Let me do it.”

The two look to you like you’re crazy, Ratchet even especially.

“What!? No! There is too much energon leaking from his fuel lines, it’s too toxic in there for you.”

Yet you don’t take it as an answer.

“Ratchet, I am not asking. We need Optimus, we can’t just stand around arguing over this, when we could be saving him!”

Wheeljack looks to the head medic with a solem expression, you are their friend too, they can’t imagine base without you, but they also need Optimus as their friend and leader. Ratchet can feel his spark sinking, he has to sacrifice one friend for another. Looking down at Optimus’s battered frame, he’s barely hanging on, if they are going to save him it has to be now.

“Fine.”

“But, Ratchet-“

“We don’t have any other way, we can’t wait around much longer.”

Wheeljack walks you to the medical berth, your heart breaking at the sight of your beloved but it makes you all the more sure. Ratchet hands you human sized thick gloves and a mask.

“These will only protect you for a short time. I will walk you through it.”

You are quick to put them on as Ratchet hands you a bunch of self adhering tape. Wheeljack loads up the x-ray, so much more in depth and clear than any you’ve ever seen, even showing you where the problem areas were.

“We will tell you where to go, but right not stop his fuel lines from leaking energon and the get to the scrap metal poking into his spark chamber.”

You nod as Ratchet helps lower you down into Optimus Chassis. It’s a mess, you want to cry at the scene before you but you stay strong, pressing on as you get to wrapping leaking lines, and pulling small metal bits from places you’re certain they aren’t suppose to be. The longer you’re in here, the heavier your head feels, but you fight to stay clear, working towards your lover’s spark.

You can hear Wheeljack and Ratchet’s voices telling you where everything is, telling you what needs wrapping, encouraging you to press on. Until you made it to Optimus’s spark, it’s massive compared to you, but you can see the issue instantly.

The metal is at an odd angle it would make the most crooked tools break, and it’s far too close to Optimus’s spark for any servos to get in here, but those decepticons didn’t account for you. You grab the sharp jagged metal, pulling and wiggling it as best you can, slowly but surely working it out until you hear it.

A pulse? A voice maybe?

You look at the bright blue glowing spark, noting how much it’s glowing.

“Shh, it’s okay Op, I’m here, I got you.” You spoke low, just for the both of you to hear, if he could hear you at all.

You grab the metal again, widening your stance and pulling again, you hear it again almost akin to a groan.

“I love you, I got you. Please, just hold on.”

You know you could die here, you know this isn’t the safest place for you like this.

You’ve been in his chassis before, it’s the safest place for you, it’s hard for anyone to get to, but for you Optimus would carry you around there. Memories what keep you going, refusing to left him fall like this.

Finally with one harsh pull the metal is freed, the force taking you down but you yell for Ratchet, moving to over get it out into the open for him to grab.

“Let me guide you this time!”

He doesn’t argue this time, grabbing the solder to close up the gaping hole behind the spark, you guide his servo making sure to be between him and Optimus’s spark, protecting him from any of Ratchet’s movements. The room is spinning, but you refuse to move, even as Ratchet starts cleaning up any leftover energon, even as the medic softly calls your name.

Your energy feels depleted, but as you lean your head against the thrumming spark, you smile, you feel safe at home.

You don’t hear the panicked voices, don’t get them calling for one of the racers to take you to a human hospital.

As your eyes slide closed, eyelids feeling heavy, you could only think about how you’d do it again in a heartbeat to save your beloved. There is a harsh glow behind your eyes, making you groan as your eyes flutter open. When did you fall asleep?

You blink as frames come into view but too difficult to make out.

“Oh thank the all spark you’re alive!” You never heard Ratchet so relieved.

“You gave us a scare, I was sure you’d be meeting Primus by now.” Wheeljack places a cold wet cloth over your forehead, chuckling as you grow in relief.

When has your body gotten so warm?

“But still, a human spark bonding with a cybertronian, I never would’ve thought that was possible.”

You groan, you’ve heard those terms before but your head is throbbing, it hurts too much to think right now. Despite the pain you can’t help but have one fleet thought, is Optimus okay? As if hearing your thoughts, you can hear a faint rumble of Optimus’s engines purring.

Sluggishly you sit up, ignoring the loud protests from the medics as you move closer to an obviously tired Optimus, who opens his optics to look at you, despite his exhaustion he looks so content and happy to see you. Optimus lifts a servo up to cup your body and hold you closer.

“Hello, my light.”

“How are you feeling?”

He hums, laying limp back against the medical berth.

“Tired, but are you okay? You shouldn't have-“

You cut him off with a stern grunt.

“I’d do it again, I’d do it as many times as it takes to make sure you’re alive and well. I love you, and I refuse to not at least try.”

The others in the room leave to give you two some alone time. Leaving you and your beloved alone. He seems to hear your words, but seems somewhat dazed.

“Do you have a preference for when to hold our ceremony? Or maybe you have a tradition you want incorporated?”

“Huh?”

You look up to Optimus, who now looks confused at you. You two have been dating for a while of course, acts of intamacy, acts of disclosure, acts of giving, you two had been doing such things for years, was this not your act of devotion? Was this not the grand gesture of love you intended it to be?

But you spark bonded with him, he can feel the ties between you two now.

Did you not know? Surely you had to, your actions were loud and clear, your words were even louder.

“My love, don’t look at me like that, please.” You kiss his chin, trying to soothe him.

You feel an ache in your chest, it feels so heavy, can you feel his emotions now? Surely not.

“You bonded my spark to you, it’s not something that can be forced, I thought you wanted to make it official if Ratchet and Wheeljack haven’t told the others yet.”

Though your head is spinning, you feel light headed at the idea of marrying Optimus Prime, you didn’t know you could do that! But seeing his expression so light and dreamy makes your heart swoon, you don’t think you could tell him no.

Who are you kidding, you’d love to.

[shysuccubusstuff]

Dilf! Sylus pt. 1

Content: Headcanons + some longer parts ♡; Age gap + mention of child abuse (not made by Sylus, of course) + alcohol taking + consensual/dubcon (alcohol intake on both sides).

Summary: After graduating university, you've been looking for a stable job for several months, but for the moment, you just have to content yourself with working as a nanny during the summer holidays. Who would have thought that you would meet such a hot and single (did I already say hot?) dad that would require your services?

Note: I just remembered the fanarts done by someone in Twitter with the boys as dilfs, these fanarts together with some Lana del Rey unreleased songs got me hyped for him... Wish I could see an even older Sylus... he's already hot af tho. I keep saying that I have a bunch of stuff almost ready but I never post it, talk about being like a man (jk depending on how you take the joke). Still, I hope everyone is having a nice week. This video just popped on my tl, hope anyone finds it funny!

Note 2: I'm lowkey scared that some parts are just too corny/cringy... I have no real idea how an older Sylus would speak with some woman that has around... 10? years less than him. Let me know if you want a pt. 2 + the same prompt with other LI!!

You had graduated several months ago, and yeah, of course you knew that finding a job would be the easiest thing in the world, but come on, your area wasn't even THAT full. How was it possible that you were almost the only one that didn't find a job after graduating? You were laying in bed, scrolling through your phone as you kept complaining in your mind. Suddenly, your phone rang, making you almost fall to the floor, quickly taking the call with the hope of getting the job.

"Hello?" You were able to hear some faint sounds in the background, some running around, together with a few giggles.

"... Yes, sorry. I was just busy with something. I call because of your advertisement, the one about working as a nanny?" Suddenly, you heard the deep and velvety voice of a man, even if that voice sounded slightly tired.

"Sure! I'm available for all the week, including weekends. I can even stay at your house if you prefer it that way, I do have to say that the rate does get a bit--"

"That's ok, I don't mind paying as much as you want as long as you do your job appropietly. We can meet this weekend to present them to you, if you are able, of course."

"Yes! Sure, let's meet that day, maybe in the morning?"

"Then that's settled. Thank you, let's meet in a couple days." The man hanged the call, barely allowing you to wave him goodbye. Well, at least that was somewhat solved... right?

The week went fast, with you barely moving around apart from buying groceries or spending your time with some not so interesting game as you complained about your boring holiday with your closest friend. Before you know it, you were already getting ready for that meeting, with your hands starting to sweat a bit as you tried to imagine the kind of children that man could have. Oh God, what if they were the annoying kind? The ones that mess with you cause they hate all their nannies, always acting up and... Wait, just calm yourself, it can't be that bad... right? You grabbed your bag, carrying all the documents that you may or may not need as you kept repeating into your head that there was no way that you would have such bad luck.

You finally entered the café, your hands still sweating a bit as you tried to guess who was the man that had called you. That question was quickly answered, as there was only a single man with not only one, but two children. The two small boys were busy sketching some stuff, with both of them sometimes talking to each other, with the man sometimes answering to them while he took a few sips from the coffee cup. You made your way to the table, clenching your bag as you kept telling yourself to calm down.

"Hi! I'm the nanny, we spoke a few days ago, I don't know if you remember me?" The man's gaze slowly moved from his children drawings to you, his gaze turning much cooler as soon as he stopped looking at them.

"Yes, I do remember you, do you want something to drink while we talk?" You sat down, trying your best not to stumble on your words while you tried to think as fast as possible, your hands lending him the papers that proved that this was not the first time you had worked as a nanny.

"Thank you, I don't want anything, we can just talk like this... I mean, if you want!" The man lifted his brow a bit, perhaps a bit taken aback by your nervous movements, his eyes quickly scanning through the documents.

"That is fine. My name is Sylus. These are my children, Luke and Kieran. Luke is the one on the left, Kieran is the one on the right." The children moved to look at you, both of their faces with several scars that went up their face and arms. The sight made you shiver a bit, but seeing how the two of them were completely calm, you chose to wait in case there was something wrong going on. "They are 8 years old. You will have to work from Monday to Friday, I have to plan the weekends, as it depends on the week. I will make sure to pay you accordingly, of course, you will have bonuses the days that you are asked to stay. I don't require you to teach them nor make any housework, just to take care of them. I would pay you around 25$ the hour, I hope that is enough?" You almost choked on your own spit, trying your best not to act surprised. This was not the first time you had worked for some rich family around town, and yeah, he may be the hottest guy you had ever seen, but you just had to focus on your work. Maybe you could even make it your full time job if you did it correctly?

"There's no problem! I just need to know when should I start working, well, as well as where the house is." As you kept speaking, the two small children got down their chairs, moving closer to you.

"So... when will you start living with us?" Luke rest his face on your leg, with Kieran following him close by. Guess this was their way of greeting you?

Dilf! Sylus who is away most of the day, arriving at late hours at night when both Luke and Kiera are already asleep. He arrives on his motorbike, parking it on the garage, entering the house in complete silence except the sound of the keys being left on the entrance. You had already noticed that this was indeed a routine, as the twins already let you know on the first days you were there. You were barely able to hear him as your room was quite close to the staircase, hearing his soft steps on the carpet as he made his way to his bedroom.

Dilf! Sylus who had no kind of photos or paintings of his (possibly) late wife. The whole house was neatly decorated with mostly dark colours, with the childrens' room being the only exception, as they were the ones that had chosen their own furniture. It took you a few weeks to find out that the two boys had been adopted by Sylus several years ago after they arrived to his door barefoot, with their limbs and faces even more scarred than now. Despite the traumatic experience, the two children seemed mostly fine, even if it was clear that they were extremely anxious the second one of them got separated from the other.

Dilf! Sylus who sometimes arrives in the morning, as always, he leaves the keys on the entrance, rushing to the children's room so he could kiss their forehead, with the two of them hugging him by the neck, allowing him to carry the two of them, each with one arm to the kitchen, where he allowed them to sit as he started making breakfast. These days weren't common, but each time he arrived, you were able to see just how much he cared for Luke and Kieran, with Sylus even spending a few hours playing around with them before leaving to work once more. At first, you tried to avoid interrupting them, choosing to stay silent as you helped him make breakfast or simply tidying up after the twins. That was until the three of them started to open themselves to you, with Luke and Kieran beginning to introduce you on their private chats, even getting to the point in which you were able to see what resembled a smile on Sylus' face. This marked the beginning of the closer relationship between the two.

Dilf! Sylus who begins to have more free time. And despite this would usually mean a reduction on your working hours, this changed nothing, except the small trips with the three of them. The trips started as short outings to the park, sometimes to a restaurant around town. Then, the trips became longer, with the four of you spending a couple days on different countries, as Sylus worked, having to meet with different people while the three of you spending your time by walking around the different cities.

Dilf! Sylus who starts to spend more time alone with you. Inviting you to his private gym in case you had some free time while the twins were sleeping, together with even allowing you to help him test the condition of his motorbike. It had been clear since the start that Sylus was in no way feeble, as you often saw him carrying Luke and Kieran while all of you played together. But it was then, when he was too busy checking every single element of his motorbike, with him simply wearing a tight sleeveless t-shirt, allowing you to see just how much time he spent keeping his body as fit as possible.

"Like what you see?" Sylus' eyes were once again focused on you, his hands slightly tainted by the motor oil, some even staining his face.

"I was just-- Sorry" You felt your face heat up, your eyes starting to move around the garage trying to find anything to focus on.

"No need to excuse yourself, sweetie. I understand, can you help me a bit with this? It seems that I need to check this thoroughly."

Dilf! Sylus who begins to make the work harder for you, with him sometimes rubbing against you as he passed by, making you blush just from remembering the veins on his arms and hands as he worked out. The sexual tension between the two finally came to an end the night the two of you found each other in the living room. Sylus had just arrived, his cloak still being carried under his arm.

"Good night, I didn't expect company so late at night, tell me, would you mind accompanying me for some alcohol?" You bit your lip, still not sure on what to do, before you answered him, Sylus added: "Don't worry, the boys won't be up until maybe around 12, they spent all their energy playing with their friends."

"I suppose it would be ok then, just a bit, ok? I'm not that good with alcohol..." Sylus nodded, going to the kitchen and coming back with two small glasses, together with a bottle of tequila, salt and a few slices of lemon. He had already changed into more comfortable clothes, with him only wearing some expensive smock that looked perhaps a bit too short for your own safety.

"How about we play some cards while we drink? The one who loses will have to drink." You knew that wasn't the best choice for you, but how could you refuse when he was already smirking as if he had already won?

Before you were able to notice it, the bottle of tequile was almost finished, both of your faces being as red as a tomato.

"Come on! Just accept your defeat already, afraid that someone younger than you is better than you?" You smiled, your left hand moving the liquid inside the small glass while you kept glancing at the cards on your right hand.

"Oh? Someone has gotten bolder now, do you always talk to your bosses like that?" Sylus left his glass on the table, smirking while he left the cards fall on the table, resting his head on his left arm. "Just so you know, I have no kind of insecurity regarding my age, sweetie."

"You sure? I mean, you work out a bit too much for someone--"

"I have no idea why would you assume that, the fact that I work out a lot is merely due to the fact that my job--" Sylus stopped himself, taking a deep breath before going on. "That is just because of some requirements that I have to meet in order to keep my position." You looked a bit confused, not realising until then that you had never wondered why did he always arrive so late. Still, the alcohol was still running down your veins, making it difficult to even realise the possible danger of it.

"Suuuure, let's just say I believe you. Why would an old man like you need to stay as fit? Are you sure that you're not planning on wooing some naïve girl into your claws?" You laughed, taking a small sip out of the glass.

"Maybe I want to do just that." Sylus' gaze darkened, his usual dangerous aura coming back to him as his crimson eyes pierced your face. "Maybe I should do just that, I'm sure I would be able to teach some wild kitten just how she is supposed to behave to be considered a good girl." You felt a shiver being sent through your whole body, the hair on your arms stooding up as your face flushed from the tone Sylus had used in those last few words. Sylus chuckled at your reaction, taking once again his glass from the table and playfully moving the ice cubes within his glass that was now filled with some old whisky he had taken from the cabinet. "I was just messing around, no need to act all coy now, we have been in much more intimate situations, am I wrong, sweetie?" Sylus took a small sip of whisky, changing the way he sat to one that made the cloth rode up allowing you to catch a timid glimpse of his underwear. Feeling as you were being tested on purpose, you quickly rose from the couch, thanking the courage given by the alcohol as you suddenly pressed your lips against his, your body clamping against his bare chest.

What first began as a one sided kiss was soon reciprocated, with Sylus soon taking the lead of it, his rough hands positioning on your hip, his thumbs making small circles around the area as his tongue suddenly entered your mouth, the meek kiss soon turning into a lewd one, the room now filled with wet noises together with soft moans and whimpers.

Just as you were starting to feel slightly light-headed, Sylus got away from you, moving his right hand towards your face and caressing your cheek with extreme care. "Guess I made a mistake. It seems this wild kitten is very much aware of what she is capable to do to me." You bashfuly locked eyes with him, encountering one of the softest looks you had ever seen. "I would have liked it more if this had happened on a better occasion, one in which you had enough courage to do all these bold moves without relying on a silly game." Sylus smiled, his eyes still fixed on you, making you feel even more flushed as you could clearly tell just how much he had been holding back from doing anything inappropriate. "Let me take you to bed, I think we should talk about this... change in our relationship tomorrow, when both of us are fully aware of what all of this means." Sylus lifted you with ease, opening the door with one of his legs and soon arriving to your bedroom, suddenly changing the way he held you so he could acommodate the sheets. Before you could say anything, he covered your body, planting a tendeer kiss on your forehead. "Sleep tight, I hope you won't regret anything tomorrow, sweetie."

[mallory524]

Hi! I have this idea of reader trying to get Bob to watch a horror movie and him being kind of hesitant because maybe he's scared or horror just isn't his thing idk. But eventually reader convinces him and it ends up being cute and funny.

movie night :)

bob x reader

summary- Bob doesn't really want to watch a scary movie, but he'll do anything if it means spending the evening with you

tags- thunderbolts* spoilers, sort of established relationship, holding hands, kiss, thunder/lightning, Void mention

word count- 1176

notes- yayyy i love getting requests, plz keep sending them in you guys

Bob feels sort of silly about how much this movie is getting to him. It's not really the kind of thing he usually watches, but of course he'd watch anything that you want to watch. Yeah, he almost didn't, but he eventually agreed to this. He will take any and every opportunity to spend some time with you.

The two of you have gone out a bunch of times... or at least, Bob is pretty sure that's what happened. It's not always clear what really counts as "going out", but you've gotten plenty of meals together, seen a few different movies and plays, and Bob almost always tags along when you go to the grocery store. He loves hanging out with you, no matter what you're doing. You have a really comforting presence to him.

This afternoon in particular, it's pouring rain, and it has been all day. The tower isn't filled with that same lovely natural lighting it usually is, but it's still beautiful in a way. You lit a few candles to add to the very important vibe. Bucky is convinced you're going to forget to blow them out and burn the place down.

The group is just taking a lazy day, and everyone's hanging out in their own rooms, except for you and Bob in the living room. You were doing a jigsaw puzzle to pass the time when you suggested watching a scary movie.

Bob was sort of hesitant at first and you practically had to beg him. "Oh come on, please," you had said, trying to pout to look extra sad, but you couldn't stop giggling at how ridiculous you knew you looked in that moment.

Bob kept shaking his head and softly laughing, too. "Nuh uh. I really don't do scary movies". He was trying to make it sound less cowardly than it was, but he was definitely worried that the movie would be too much for him.

"Come on, Bob," you said in almost a singsong kind of way, "It's dark and scary and stormy out... It's the perfect time for this kind of thing."

The idea of curling up under a big blanket with you in the dark was definitely enticing, but he still wasn't sure.

"Hey, hey. I'm just messing around," you tell him, smiling and gesturing at the puzzle, "I really don't mind if this isn't your thing. We can keep doing this." You were always so nice to him. You got him to do things that were out of his comfort zone, but you never forced him to do anything if he really didn't want to. You'd always just tell him it was fine with that warm, comforting smile. You could probably convince him to do anything when you looked at him like that, even if you weren't trying to...

"You know what? Sure."

"Yay!!"

Now you're sitting on the couch together and watching some obscure horror movie he'd never ever heard of. You told him it wasn't that scary, and now Bob's wondering what you do consider scary because goodness-

Bob is so on edge, and the conditions outside aren't helping. Since you originally sat down to watch the movie, day has turned into night, and so the only light in the room is coming from the tv screen and the candles. The weather is somehow getting even worse, with huge cracks of lightning lighting up the dark sky every minute or so, and then you both jump at the ensuing thunder every. single. time.

You subtly glance over at Bob. He really is such a sweetheart. The man is bulletproof. You watched him tear Bucky's vibranium arm off and then proceed to turn into a vicious physical manifestation of darkness that engulfed New York City. Now, he's wrapped up in a blanket, grimacing at all the cheesy fake blood and gore on screen. Occasionally, he jumps and sends his popcorn flying up just a little, almost comically.

He's a cool guy and he wasn't kidding: these kinds of movies are really not his thing.

He catches you looking at him, and he turns hesitantly to meet your gaze. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just... I... hope you've had as good a day today as I have, hanging out with you."

Bob practically glows when he hears you say that, but he wants to play it cool. He tries to look back and forth between you and the movie, trying to show you that he cares about this thing you care about.

"Thanks. I really did have a good day. To be honest, I like ... I like doing stuff with you," he says with a shy smile.

Before you can say anything in response to his sweet words, there's another loud sound from the movie, and Bob instinctively reaches for your hand. Neither of you make any move to pull away from the small embrace.

"Hey Bob," you say, playfully smirking at him, "Are you scared?"

It's barely even a question. Of course he is.

"Well I guess it is a little much, I mean I uh- I like the story I guess, and I know it's all fake but it is freaking me out a little..." he starts to ramble, but you gently squeeze his hand and that's enough to pull him back into the moment. He trails off and you lean a little closer.

Looking right into his eyes, you quietly suggest, "Well maybe don't look at the movie anymore."

Bob notices your eyes fall down to his lips, and he knows what you're thinking. He leans just a tiny bit closer and stops so that, if he had somehow misread this, you'd have the opportunity to cut him off right then and there. Of course, he didn't and you don't.

Right as your lips are about to touch, the loud thunder startles you both and you stop short. He expects you to pull away and move on, like how the characters always seem to do in every cliche movie he's ever seen, (not unlike the one you're watching now), but of course that's silly. You just laugh quietly and lean back in to give him a proper kiss.

After that, you lean on Bob's shoulder and, in spite of the awful loud screaming and tense music blaring from the tv, you both fall asleep. You may have missed the last 20 minutes of the movie, but you got what you wanted tonight. You got to play into the fun, creepy vibe of the evening, you got Bob to spend an hour and a half with you, and you got a kiss. Bob's happy, too, because it is now abundantly clear what the nature of your relationship is.

Bucky was right; you absolutely did forget about all those candles you lit. He ends up walking around the tower and blowing them out himself. When he finds you and Bob on the couch, fast asleep in each other's arms, he just smiles to himself, turns the tv off, and goes right to bed.

[forsaken-headcanons]

every survivor in forsaken is crazy.

Noob is constantly terrified, never being able to relax due to there constantly being killers around. Even if they did get time to themself, they’d definitely still be scared and have nightmares about being chased. Insanity scale: 5/10. Halfway there, but they react to things in normal ways.

Elliot is hanging by a thread. He has the sole responsibility to make sure everyone stays alive, which is already a hard job, but he also likely serves as the team therapist. And nobody else can really help him with his problems (007n7 would if he didn’t have a son to run from). Insanity scale: 6/10. Can and will snap.

Two Time has been mentioned to be “messed up in the membrane”. There’s no defending them. They are a cultist who killed someone who was important to them. They believe in reincarnation to a fatal extent. Insanity scale: 9/10. I don’t think they’re ok, but they at least have somewhat of a soul.

Guest 1337 is a mixed bag. He’s likely the most sane of the bunch. He has a family and lived a happy life… until military training. I doubt he’s been able to see his family ever since he started, and that can leave a mark on you. Insanity scale: 3/10. He’s probably aware of the fact the group is trapped in an endless hell where they get chased by ruthless killers for the rest of eternity.

Builderman is both ok and not ok simultaneously. I think he has the most self-discipline next to Guest 1337, so he won’t be gone easily. However, his affiliations with Shedletsky (who is definitely crazy) might cause him to lose a bit of his sanity. And the whole killer thing. Insanity scale: 4/10. Haunted by Shedletsky.

Chance is already gone. He’s a gambler. His gimmick… is gambling. Need I say less? Insanity scale: gamble/10. (Ok, I will actually say something though: he’s probably covering up inner feelings with his natural cheer)

Shedletsky. I’m pretty sure we all saw this coming, but this guy is unwell. First, one of the killers is the embodiment of his own hatred and malice. Neat. Second, the whole Telamon thing. He’s also the weird hooded guy who’s most likely a cultist. I think he’s the second most far gone character in the group. Insanity scale: fried chicken/10. We’re blaming John for this.

007n7 isn’t doing so well. Imagine raising a child who you think is innocent and adorable, then suddenly you’re running for your life from him. Do you think you’d be ok? No. Insanity scale: child loss/10. He also has to face the fact that he wasn’t a very good father, either.

TL;DR: pray for Two Time, Shedletsky, and 007n7.

This is the most beautiful ask I have ever received. Gamble/10, child loss/10 and fried chicken/10 are my favorite ratings. I read this a day ago when it first got in my inbox and dear anon, I have to tell you that "we're blaming john for this" has now become a phrase I use in every appropriate and inappropriate situation.

Thank you for the Chance food. I've been saying that he's not as mentally well as he likes to appear to be.

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part four)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+ for smut

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | two | three

» masterlist

At this point, there’s no way that you can change your mind. And no way that you’d want to.

Because once you lock your door behind Zach and he leans down to kiss you like he’s been starving for you, you forget why you were so insistent on following the rules in the first place.

His hand settles on your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as his lips hungrily press against yours. His warm kiss and firm touch lull you into a state of pure bliss.

He steps an inch closer, kissing deeper, and your bodies curve into each other in a way that makes you feel like they were made to do this. When someone fits this well with you, you don’t know how you can possibly resist them.

You drag your hands over his damp showered hair and his every muscle tenses. He almost inaudibly moans against your mouth, gripping your hip.

The cotton of your towel bunching between his fingers is a reminder that you’re hardly covered right now, and he pulls back just enough for your lips to part.

He hopes he didn’t come on too strong. You invited him in and it’s like he sort of blacked out from excitement.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Do you want to change?” Zach mumbles through shallow breaths. “I won’t look.”

You smile against his lips, not surprised at all that he’s being so considerate about your comfort level.

You’re in a haze. Within minutes, your night has turned around to lead you here, standing in Zach’s arms in the solitude of your small cabin, both in agreement that you’ll start this, whatever this is, in secret.

You pull back a little more to look up and meet his eyes. Now that you can see his face again, you notice that he’s blushing, his cheeks flushed.

You wonder if it weren’t for the one rule forbidding you to do this, if you’d be as eager to be physical together so quickly. You’re sure Zach feels the same, having followed the same rule for so long.

“You alright?” he asks when you don’t answer. His worried eyes search your face as he towers over you. “Should I leave? I can leave if-”

“No,” you interrupt with a small, appreciative smile. “Stay. I’ll get into my pajamas.”

You realize you’re still holding onto the burn gel he came here with.

“And I should put this on since you went through the trouble,” you add.

You laugh to yourself when you see the way Zach sits in your desk chair, facing the wall with his head down, keeping his promise that he won’t look at you while you’re naked.

You want to take it slow with him, as if you met him outside of work, with no rule hanging over your heads. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want to do anything with him at all.

You come up behind him, sliding your hands over his broad shoulders, and he turns to gaze at you, drinking you in as you stand over him your shorts and tank-top.

His lap looks especially inviting, so you lean forward to straddle him. The fabric of his sweats is soft against your bare skin.

Zach is convinced he’s dreaming. He imagined this exact scenario, and now, he’s actually here, angling his head so your lips can meet again.

His thoughts are racing, an overlapping, tangled mess in his head. It’s unbelievable, wanting a girl this badly and actually having her like this, her weight on him, her tongue touching his.

He doesn’t get how he lucked out this much. A girl who struck him from the moment he saw her, turning out to have a heart and mind just as beautiful as she is, actually wants him back.

He can’t mess this up.

Your kisses grow deeper and your hips roll involuntarily, nudging against his groin. The way he called you worth the risk replays in your head. You’d hate to see this sweet man ruin his reputation and lose his job at a place he so deeply treasures all for you.

But when Zach’s big hands rest over the curves of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he squeezes, you forget about your concerns. He has a way of touching you that makes your mind go blank.

You inhale sharply as you pull in even closer, feeling how hard and big he is against your core. He lowers his head, your lips parting.

“Sorry,” he whispers, shuffling in his spot.

“For?” you chuckle.

Concern sits in Zach’s chest as he shifts again, mortified at the prospect of you feeling uneasy from how hard he is.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he admits.

You gaze down at him with pure admiration.

“I’m literally on top of you,” you tell him with a laugh. “I am not uncomfortable. I like you, remember?”

He smiles lazily, fingers grazing over your bare thighs in circles.

You keep your eyes trained on his expression when you grind up against him again. His jaw tenses and his lips part, immediately giving you the proof of just much you affect him.

“How come?” Zach asks. His eyes drift to your lips again, glossy from your kisses.

“How come I like you?” you ask.

He nods, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. You always got the sense he was more on the sensitive side underneath all the jokes. Last night on the dock proved it to you.

But you realize that he must really crave reassurance, considering he’d rather ask you what you see in him than continue to make out.

“You’re sweet,” you tell him, brushing his messy hair back. “And you’re funny.”

“You are, too.”

You gently glide your hand down his face, looking at the faint freckles peppered over his skin, surely from all his time in the sun.

“And you’re fun,” you continue. The way his eyes wash over your face in pure, awe-struck affection makes your stomach twist. “And hot.”

“I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at how hard he is pressed against you, “so are you. Obviously.”

You giggle and he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes, struck by how much he loves your laugh. How much he wants to make you laugh over and over.

“I like you, too,” Zach says, his tone low and velvety.

You could say that even though you had passing doubts at times, he made it pretty clear from the day you met by the way he stared and flirted that he liked you. But you don’t want to tease him. Not now, when he’s so vulnerable.

So, you lean forward to kiss him again, perched on his lap. Your foreheads press together as you deepen the kiss more than you ever have, mouths hot and open.

He’s hard as rock against you. His hands are kneading the underside of your thighs, inching closer to your ass.

You’re dazed when you pull back, not sure how long you’ve been making out. The position is starting to hurt and you’re hungry to feel all of him against you.

“Should we lie down?” you offer a bit nervously.

“Whatever you want.” He’s almost breathless. “Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

You smile, your noses nudging as you grind against him again.

“What, so you can call me bossy for the millionth time?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “I like it when you’re bossy.”

“You do?”

He nods earnestly, enamored, wishing he could express just how twisted up you make him feel.

It makes you realize he really must have a thing for when you’re assertive, and maybe through all that teasing he did, you were turning him on.

For the first time, he’s pushy with you, nudging you to stand and guiding you onto your bed, looking down at you as you gently bounce when your back hits the mattress.

You gaze at him readily, watching him lower to hover over you, kissing you again. He’s not afraid of showing you how hot you’ve got him anymore, bucking his hips as he grinds between your legs.

You let out a shaky sigh when he shifts to kiss your neck, his tongue warm against your skin. You run your fingers up and down over his hair and he starts to kiss harder over your throat.

“Be careful,” you giggle. “If you leave marks, people might see.”

“Sorry,” Zach mumbles, pulling back. “You’re right.”

His kisses are so tender and hungry that you don’t want him to stop.

“Go lower,” you whisper. “Where only you can see.”

He moves like he has seconds left before he has to part from you. His wet mouth is on your chest, right by the hem of your tank-top, where he knows your work shirt will cover.

It’s damn near intoxicating to him, knowing this is your little secret, lying on top of you in your bed, feeling you like this.

Zach leaves kisses all over, his hand cupping your jaw. Your head is resting on your soft pillow, eyes shut as he trails kisses over your cleavage, not dipping below your shirt.

When you feel him stop, you look down to meet his hazy blue eyes. He shifts to bring his fingers to the strap of your top, silently asking if he can pull down the only piece of fabric covering your chest.

You nod and watch him look down as he undresses you, pushing the straps past your shoulders. The tank top bunches up at your waist and he sharply inhales once he sees you bare.

“Oh, my God,” Zach murmurs huskily. “I can’t…”

“What?” you ask. He meets your eyes, slightly shaking his head.

“I can’t believe I get to see you like this.”

Your skin pricks with heat as he gazes down at you again and brings his warm hand to cup your breast. He dips his head to kiss your sternum, burying his face and letting out a small groan as he gently squeezes your flesh.

You sigh contently, never having felt so wanted before. You can tell he sincerely feels lucky to be here right now.

Your skin is so soft and you smell so damn good and once he locks his lips around your nipple, making you breathe shakily, he’s sure he’s never been harder in his life.

All you can hear over your own heavy breathing is Zach’s mouth puckering over your skin. You know there’ll be bruises from how hard he’s sucking.

Your breasts are wet with his spit from all the attention he’s giving you. By the time he straightens up to look at your face again, he almost looks drunk.

His mouth and tongue and jaw are so sore from losing himself in the pleasure, but it’s so damn worth it.

He lowers to kiss you and his lips move slowly on yours. With the heat of arousal in your stomach, you trail a hand down his firm body. You press your palm against his cock, wrapping your fingers around his thickness over his sweats.

“Is this alright?” you ask quietly.

“Yes, I’m…” Zach breathes a nervous chuckle, his breath hot against your cheek. “If you keep going, I’m not gonna last long.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m not always like this,” he stammers nervously. “I didn’t expect tonight to happen.”

You start to slowly rub his length, shocked yet again by his size.

“I take it as a compliment,” you say in a hush. As you continue to stroke him, you’re sure it’d take some time to adjust to him once you decide to go all the way. “You’re big.”

Zach grips your wrist, guiding your hand away. Your touch is already driving him crazy. The praise will make him come in a second.

“You first,” he breathes, desperately hoping you want him to touch you. “If you want it.”

You take a long, eager breath. The anticipation makes your core tighten as you take back control and direct his hand between your legs.

Even through the fabric of your shorts and panties, Zach can feel how wet you are. He’s already imagining how good you must taste.

He whispers a groaned fuck when he presses his fingers against you. His lips lock around the side of your neck as he rubs between your legs, and while it feels incredible, you have to remind him he can’t leave proof of tonight on your skin.

But before you can, he seems to remember, breathing out a sigh as he pulls his mouth off of your neck to kiss your lips. His pressure is firm, his movements slow, the friction making you writhe beneath him.

It’s a whirlwind being like this, feeling him massage between your legs as he kisses you. When you moved into this cabin just over a week ago, you never would have dreamed you’d be touched and kissed on this bed by the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

You moan and arch your back when he finds your clit, rubbing in circles. You can feel his satisfied smile against the corner of your mouth.

He’s hard against your thigh, tracing shapes on you, bringing you to an intense orgasm.

Zach is in another world when he feels you trembling through your peak. He pulls back to prop himself onto his elbow, solely to watch the way your features contort as pleasure hits you.

“That feel good?” he breathes. “You’re so damn pretty.”

You smile as you come down from the high. He continues to touch you, gentler now. He loves that he’s the reason behind the blissed out expression on your face.

You let out a tired laugh as you cup his cheek adoringly. You sit up for a moment to kiss him, then shift to feel him over his pants again.

Zach’s stops breathing for a second, adjusting to settle on his knees as he lies over you. Hungry lips meet yours as you stroke his length.

Your tight grip around his cock is perfect and he starts to rock his hips, fucking your hand, imagining he’s inside of you and already both excited and nervous to get to that step with you if you’ll let him.

You pull back from the kiss as you think about how much he seems to love reassurance. You decide to take the risk and see how he’ll respond if you praise him some more.

“You made me finish so fast,” you whisper, meeting his eyes.

“Fuck,” he breathes in awe, thrusting against you. “Please keep talking like that. Please.”

You bite your lip, a little nervous, but push through to tell him what you’re really thinking.

“I can’t believe how big you are,” you tell him. “I don’t know how you’ll fit.”

“Fuck,” he says again, his voice straining. You feel him get even harder before he starts throbbing in your hand.

His hot cheek is pressed against yours as he rides the high, jerking against you. You feel heat fill the fabric separating you and he collapses, making an effort to hold himself up so not to put all his weight on you.

Your chests rise and fall together, touching every so often in a broken rhythm.

It’s like he’s high right now. You know just what to do and just what to say.

“I’ll be right back,” he eventually says. He leaves a kiss on your shoulder before he stands to rush to the bathroom and clean himself up.

When Zach comes back out, you’re sitting on your bed, dressed again. The mattress sinks with this weight as he settles across from you.

“You were right,” he says, gently pushing you back so you lie down again, making you laugh. “We didn’t last six weeks.”

“Not even close,” you reply.

He’s on his elbow, lying beside you, lips parted, eyes searching your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he says softly.

“You said that already,” you tease. The way he’s looking at you and the fact that he said it again after the heat of the moment has passed tells you he really believes it.

Zach sighs and looks down, dimples framing the defeated smirk on his face.

“What?”

“It’s gonna be hard keeping you a secret,” he says. “But I think we shouldn’t tell anyone. Not even other counselors. Nobody. Just in case.”

Relief fills you. You figured this wasn’t just a one-time thing, considering your conversations and how he mentioned going on a date with you after the season wraps up. But it’s nice to get the confirmation that he wants to keep doing this. Because you do, too.

“Of course,” you say, nodding. You know he has a great deal to lose if this comes out.

He leans over to kiss you, his lips still tender. He can’t stop thinking about what you whispered to him, that he might not fit.

“Hey, I’ll… I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt, okay?” he says. “If you want to ever… go that far with me.”

You nod, glad you can speak so openly with him.

“I do,” you say. He smiles, then takes your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

“How’s your burn?” he asks, gazing down at your arm.

“I honestly forgot about it.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of a great distraction,” Zach says.

You watch him sit up and stand to collect the gel he brought that you left on your dresser.

You’ve caught on to how normally, he likes to sarcastically play up his confidence, but during intimate moments, he’s vulnerable and sensitive. It makes him all the more interesting to you.

Zach lies back down next to you, applying the gel onto your forearm, his face crinkled in concern as he stares at your injury.

“It’s really not that bad,” you say, watching the way his pointer and middle finger gently run over your skin, reminding you of how they felt between your legs just minutes ago.

“I’m not buying your tough guy act,” Zach replies with a smirk.

“Excuse me?” you laugh.

“Everyone knows girls who play soccer pretend they’re fine when they’re not,” he says. “And guys who play soccer are crybabies.”

“True,” you laugh. It’s a running joke that you’re well aware of. Male athletes exaggerate injuries on the pitch, while women have a reputation for continuing to play after a fall or collision like nothing happened.

“But that’s just during a game,” you say. “If I’m in pain off the field, you’ll know. I’ll tell you.”

“You better.” Zach’s sits up to blow cool air onto your skin where he just applied the gel, as if taking care of you is an instinct to him.

He closes the tube and leans over to toss it onto your desk, but it slides too far and knocks over a few things that clatter onto the wood floor.

“Crap,” he laughs. “Sorry.”

“Stay away from any sports involving throwing,” you tease.

“You saying I’m bad with my hands?” he murmurs as he lies beside you on your pillow. “You weren’t complaining a minute ago.”

You chuckle, gazing at him as you both lie on your sides, facing each other.

“The ego,” you reply with a laugh.

Zach smirks, shifting to kiss you slowly, revelling in the way you taste. He’s not going to forget how pretty you looked when you came. How nice you sounded when you complimented him.

When he pulls back from the kiss, he swallows disappointment, knowing it must be past ten o’clock by now and that it’s best for both of you to get your rest.

“I should probably make a run for it,” he says.

“Great pillow talk,” you tease.

“I just mean because it’s late,” he laughs. “And Malcolm will wonder where I was. I can’t tell him the truth.”

“Do you have to be so responsible all the time?” you say with an exaggerated groan. He loves how open you are about how you don’t want him to leave. He doesn’t want to leave, either.

“Yeah, I’m being real responsible right now,” he replies sarcastically.

Your smile falters.

“Are you sure you want to keeping doing this?” you say. His brows furrow, realizing that his joke made him came across as regretful. In reality, he wouldn’t take back tonight for anything.

“I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” he says. “I talk before I think sometimes. Sorry.”

You nod understandingly, still not entirely at ease.

“I’m sure,” he reassures you. “But if it makes you feel weird-”

“That’s not it,” you interrupt. “You have so much to lose if we get caught. If I get fired, yeah, it’d suck, but if you get fired, it’s… so much worse.”

Zach exhales slowly. This is part of the reason he likes you so much. How considerate you are of his situation. He loves this place and its people. Getting caught breaking this rule would be a stain on his reputation.

But he’s confident you can both hide it.

“I’ve seen a lot of staff date and never get caught,” he tells you. “We’ll keep it on the down-low. I’m totally sure I want to do this with you. A hundred and five percent.”

“And five, huh?” you say with a quiet chuckle.

“That five is crucial,” he replies.

“You’re a goofball.”

Zach chuckles and kisses your cheek before sitting up. He sits on the edge of your bed, pulls his phone out of his pocket, and opens the weekly schedule in the staff group-chat.

“No drills together tomorrow,” he says, the disappointment clear in his tone. “But Monday, we’re on the east field in the morning. And Malcolm has an overnight on Wednesday. My cabin will be free.”

He looks over at you to see you perched up on your hand, smirking at him.

“What?” he says.

“It’s just cute that you’re already scheming for when we can hang out again,” you reply.

He laughs and kisses you one last time before sneaking out.

The next day, you and Zach catch each other staring nearly every time your paths cross. You can’t forget how he felt lying over you, kissing as he touched you, panting as you touched him.

Any time you’re near each other, it’s a thrill to think that you know what his kisses feel like and how hard he gets for you.

Monday marks day ten of the season, and when you stand beside Zach on the touchline as campers run through their morning warm-ups, you wonder if he feels as tense as you do being so close to each other and not being able to touch.

“You want to lead the drill or get the pylons?” Zach says as both of you stare ahead at the field under the cloudless sky.

“I’ll get the pylons,” you say, looking back at the closest storage shed. “We need four, right?”

“You got it, newbie.”

You turn but he stops you.

“One more thing,” he says.

You meet his eyes, the tension between you thick. Zach can barely take this. He can’t stop picturing the way you looked on your bed. The way your lips felt. The way you touched him.

It’s its own form of agony, having to act like you’re just a coworker to him when you’re all he thinks about. You’re so beautiful, standing just a few feet away from him but so painfully out of reach.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Do you know if there’s a way to like, professionally hold hands?”

You laugh and flash him an unimpressed expression.

“Don’t think so,” you say.

“Damn.” He licks his lips and smiles at you before you walk away.

Not surprisingly, the shelves are a mess. You’ve heard the directors and vets over the walkies reminding counselors to tidy up the storage spaces over and over. They hardly ever do.

You search through the choas for a minute before Zach’s voice stops you.

“All good?” he asks, stepping in past the open door.

“It’s a mess in here,” you say, pointing to the three pylons you found on the floor. “I’m just looking for one more.”

Zach steps into the small, cluttered space, a foot away from you as his eyes trail over the top shelf.

“Think I see one,” he says. You could move out of the way, but you don’t, so his chest presses against you as he reaches over you.

Zach collects the pylon and looks down at you as he lowers his hand. Your stares are fixed on each other. You’re alone for the first time since Saturday night, and to him, that feels like an eternity ago.

“Thanks,” you say.

“You’d be lost without me.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, pushing against his firm chest. Instead of moving back, Zach leans into your touch, his grip on your wrist featherlight as he dips his head to kiss you.

You surrender completely, as if your body is the one in control, pushing you to do what it wants instead of listening to logic that this is risky.

Your lips part with a quiet smack.

“It sucks that I can’t do that whenever I want,” he says in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you agree. You swallow hard and take the pylon from his hand. “We should go.”

When you step out of the shed, Zach following, you’re startled by one of your campers coming around the corner. Two seconds earlier and she would’ve seen you kissing.

“Hey,” you say kindly, hiding your nerves. “What’s up?”

“Can I go get my hat from the cabin?” she says, blocking the sun with her hand.

“Of course.”

After you finish set-up, your heart still racing, Zach guides the kids through the drill. Once you’re standing next to him at the touchline again, you see him shaking his head in your peripheral.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles to you. “That was so stupid of me.”

You look up at him to see his brows turned down, clearly ashamed. You don’t need to say it. You both know how badly that could have ended.

“I didn’t exactly stop you,” you say.

Zach’s lips turn into a small, but genuine smile, endeared that you’re not mad at him. He’s eager to push the conversation into easy territory again, but thankfully, you seem to have the same idea.

“You just can’t stay away from me,” you tease. He chuckles.

“Guilty.”

Zach crosses his arms. You have no doubt if dating was allowed, he’d be touching you right now. He’s more affectionate than you thought. It makes you like him even more.

“I won’t do that again,” he says.

“You won’t kiss me?” you joke quietly.

“Not in a public area. In private is… a different story.”

You share a knowing smile. The secret between you is safe. You’re determined to keep it that way.

On Tuesday night, you and Zach chat during free-time when you notice Oliver and Jemma hanging out by the fire. The young boy seems at ease again, talking to his new friend. Zach can’t stop thinking about how much he admires you for helping him out.

A minute after lights out, Zach gets a call on his walkie from Tom, asking him to meet him at the campground office.

Even though he’s not one to worry much, when he does worry, it gets near catastrophic. He’s on edge that he got caught for breaking the no-dating rule. He feels like a little kid going to the principal’s office.

The mood isn’t tense when he enters the small office. He sees a couple of counselors sitting and chatting with Ruby at the back desk. It’s one of his favorite things about this place, how staff like to hang out like this, comfortable with the directors.

And it’s a relief. If he were in trouble, other people wouldn’t be here.

Tom is sitting at the computer when he waves Zach over.

“How tired are you?” Tom asks. Zach clues in immediately.

“What do you need?” he replies.

His uncle offers him a smile and a piece of notepad paper with a list of needed supplies. He’s used to this, running out into town every so often for odds and ends.

It’s a reminder of how much his aunt and uncle trust him. He tries not to think about how he’s been hiding something from them for days now.

“Malcolm’s not on an overnight if you want some help,” Tom suggests. “And keep the-”

“Receipt,” Zach says. “Got it.”

As Zach heads out of the office, he doesn’t even have to think about it. He wants to go with you. He’ll think of an excuse for why he didn’t take his best friend later.

He texts you: You down to go buy some stuff with me? This is strictly a work event.

You just got in your cabin when you see his message. With a soft chuckle, you reply: i accept, and tell Ami you’re going into town to run an errand and rush out before she can ask for any details.

Zach gets out of his work clothes, exchanging quick greetings with Malcolm in their cabin and vaguely mentioning that he’ll be back later, then he meets you in front of your cabin.

You come down to the dirt path with quick steps, a sweet smile on your face.

“What are we buying?” you ask.

He holds up the list. Normally, with Malcolm, who tagged along any time Zach was asked to go into town for an errand, they’d split up the list for efficiency.

But Zach doesn’t care about efficiency right now. He just wants to hang out with you.

“All you have to do is keep me company,” he says. You set out towards the parking lot together, your shoes crunching over the dirt and rocks.

“And this counts as work?” you say. “Nice.”

“My uncle said I can go with Malcolm, but no offense, I’m obviously gonna pick you.”

You smile, your cheeks warm.

“No way you said that to Tom,” you laugh.

“Nah, I just left,” Zach says. “I’ll come up with something if he sees us.”

When you sit in his car, in between conversation, you notice Zach makes sure your seatbelt is on before he starts driving.

The supermarket in town is large, bright, and quiet, with on an hour left before close. As you pace together through the aisles, you ask him, “How many times have you been here?”

“Lost count,” he says.

It feels strange for some reason, knowing that everything you’re seeing for the first time at work and in town is stuff Zach has been seeing for years. He has a whole history of summers here behind him, with long-standing relationships with so many of your coworkers.

You continue to chat as you shop, eventually entering an aisle to see tin cans scattered across the floor.

Zach sighs in frustration before picking up the cans that other shoppers have clearly just pushed to the side. You admire how kindness is second-nature to him.

“You’re so sweet,” you say, helping him.

“What else am I?” he asks. You chuckle. This man loves compliments.

“Considerate.”

“Yeah?” he continues. “And?”

“What, do you want me to call you a good boy?” you reply with a laugh.

It was a joke, but by the way Zach shyly looks down, you can tell it had an effect on him.

“Noted,” you say a bit timidly, putting the last can up on the shelf. “So, what’s next?”

Once you cross off the last thing on the list, you finally gain the courage to ask if there’s a pharmacy.

“Yeah, what do you need?” Zach asks. “Is something hurting you? Is it your burn?”

“No,” you laugh. “I just want to take a look.”

After you walk through the department, you realize that while you feel plenty comfortable with Zach, saying what you’re looking for out loud is too nerve-wracking.

“So?” he says once you reach the end of the aisle. Even after what you did with him the other night, it’s embarrassing to say.

“I’m ready to go,” you mumble. He can see by the way you’re avoiding eye contact that you’re nervous.

“What is it?” he laughs. “Get whatever you need. I’m not going to judge you. Would it be better if I gave you some privacy?”

You swallow your nerves, looking away from him.

“If we…” You sigh. “You know what we talked about? I think it’s good to be prepared.”

His brows furrow, confused amusement on his face.

“I’m so lost,” Zach says with a grin. You put your hands on your hips.

“Maybe prepared isn’t the right word,” you say. “Protected.”

He stares at you for a moment. Finally, he catches on that you’re talking about condoms.

“Oh,” he says, his cheeks burning. “Yeah. It’s good to be... You’re right. Um, let’s - we can go see what they have.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I was just thinking it’d - like, if we’re in the situation-”

“And we don’t have anything,” Zach understands, “that’d suck. Right. Yeah.”

You both laugh now that it’s out in the open, a little less tense. He can’t believe how weak he is for you, considering that merely talking about the potential of having sex makes arousal rush through his body so fast.

Tomorrow night, he has his cabin to himself. You both are very aware of the fact that you’re one sleep away from having complete privacy again. He already thought he couldn’t wait. This is a new level of impatience.

Soon, you’re standing next to each other in front of the shelves of mutlicolored boxes. Silence passes between you.

“In case I didn’t say it, I’m really glad you came here with me,” he says. You laugh and nudge his shoulder.

“Pick one,” you say.

“You know I’m bad at making decisions.”

“Consider this an opportunity to get better at it, then.”

Zach breathes a laugh, scratching his cheek as he looks at the options.

“Any day now,” you say after a few moments.

“Cut it out,” he smirks. Finally, he picks up a box and holds in front of you. “You approve?”

“Wow,” you say. On the front of the box, in white letters reads: Enhanced for her pleasure. “Um, yeah. That’s good.”

“You sure?”

“A hundred and five percent,” you tease. “It’s nice of you to pick that one.”

He shrugs with a sly smile, putting the box in the cart.

“There has to be some red flag I’m missing,” you say. “You’re kind of too perfect.”

Zach laughs again, pushing the cart down the aisle as you follow. You hook your hand in the crook of his elbow. He loves the feeling of your touch, shifting to cup your hand in his.

“Then, let’s figure what my red flag is,” he plays along.“I’m indecisive.”

“You were just decisive ten seconds ago,” you say with a laugh. “Not a red flag.”

“I’m messy,” he admits.

“Also not a red flag,” you say. His car isn’t pristine, but it isn’t necessarily trashed, either.

Zach figures if this subject is open, he might as well let everything out.

“I don’t always say it when stuff bothers me,” he tells you. Every ex-girlfriend has had this issue with him and he hates that he can never seem to break the habit.

“Well, that’s not really a red flag, either, I don’t think,” you say. “Why do you think you do that?”

“I’d just rather… be happy, you know?” he confesses, keeping his eyes ahead. “I spent so much of my childhood sad. I saw the way it affected my parents. Getting over stuff on my own is easier for everyone.”

You can’t find the words to say right away. This glimpse into his soul tells you so much. And truthfully, it makes you a little nervous. If you upset him, what’ll he do? Just swallow the pain and never tell you?

But, you get it. From what he’s confided in you, you understand that he must’ve felt guilty as a kid when his parents spent so much time desperately tried to find ways to make him happy.

It’s heartbreaking. He was bullied for being quiet and now, as an adult, he’s quiet in a new way, hiding his sadness.

“Is it really easier for you, though?” you say softly. “How you feel matters. It’s not something you need to hide for other people’s comfort.”

Zach squeezes your hand, gazing down at you. He’s never met someone who can joke with him one second, then treat him with so much empathy the next. It’s just what he needs.

“How much for the therapy session?” he asks. You smile, already used to how he prefers to navigate out of tense conversations.

“First one’s free.”

You make it to the register and as you help unload the cart, Zach points to the array of candy on the rack by the magazines.

“Let’s see if you can get this right,” he asks. “What’s the best snack here?”

You point to your favorite candy, telling him it’s obvious. When he picks up the bag, you realize he asked just to buy a treat for you.

“You tricked me,” you laugh. “You don’t have to buy me anything.”

“It’s the least I can do. You made a trip to this store fun for once.”

Zach separates the purchases, looking a bit awkward when the cashier scans the condoms, saying he doesn’t need a receipt for ‘the box’. You can’t help but giggle.

He doesn’t let you carry anything on the way to the car. You settle in the passenger seat, happily accepting the bag of candy he hands you. His car roars to life and he drives out of the parking lot.

You fill the fifteen-minute drive with conversation and laughter while you feed him pieces of candy every so often.

You make it onto the campground, hiding the box of condoms in your bag as you step out. You plan to head to your cabin while he drops off the supplies at the office, but once you pass the dining hall, you see a familiar figure in the dark. It’s Tom.

“Crap,” he whispers. “Remember when I said I’d think of something? I didn’t.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’ll talk.”

Tom greets you both, playfully asking Zach why he roped in a newbie to help him with a chore.

“It was all me,” you say with a laugh. “I ran into him at the perfect time and begged to go so I could get a snack. Poor guy had no choice.”

Your boss doesn’t seem fazed, making friendly conversation and confirming with Zach that he can drop the bags off in the office, where Ruby should still be, before you part ways.

Once he’s out of earshot, Zach sighs.

“Nicely done,” he says, impressed.

“All I could think about was the condoms in my bag falling out,” you whisper, earning a laugh from him. “That was terrifying.”

Once you reach the fork between the office and the staff cabins, you wish you could kiss him goodnight. Instead, you offer a smile.

“Thanks for the invite,” you say.

“Thanks for coming,” Zach says. He doesn’t move. He stands across from you, his eyes on you under the moonlight.

“You okay?” you ask with a quiet giggle.

“Yeah.” He’s more than okay. You’ve thrown him and everything in his life for a loop in the best way. It’s wild how he misses you before you’re even gone. “Get some rest, alright?”

“And I’m bossy?” you joke, stepping away. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

As you pace away from him down the trail, Zach watches your silhouette, and he’s sure that if you didn’t already have a piece of his heart, you do now.

(part five)

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[clarkeysbedchem]

whatever happens, i’m letting it | part twelve

previous part | next part

will lenney x fem reader

summary: will falls for chris’ new assistant

masterlist | main masterlist

You didn’t tell him you were coming back a day early.

The train had been quiet, the ride long enough to finish the book you had started nearly three weeks ago, and the buzz of excitement filled your body with every minute as you got closer to London - closer to Will.

It was just past 10am when you reached his apartment complex, the wheels of your beat up suitcase dragging softly behind you as you made your though the corridors that became a second home to you. As you reached his door, your heart thudded a little faster than you expected.

It wasn’t nerves. Just that strange, fluttery feeling of knowing you were about to walk into someone else’s ordinary, but knowing that somehow, you were slowly becoming a fixture in it.

You knocked.

There was a crash inside, followed by a muffled curse and ruffling, and then the door swung open a few seconds later.

Will stood in the doorway, hoodie bunches around his waist, hair a complete mess, one sock on and the other hanging off with a mug in hand. His mouth was already forming words - probably expecting a parcel or one of the lads - but when he saw you, he froze.

You lifted a hand giving a small wave as you smiled softly at him, “Hi.”

He stared at you for a full three seconds before setting the mug down on the hallway table and pulling you into a hug so suddenly, you barely had time to drop your bag.

Your arms wrapped around him instinctively, and he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. The warmth of his tired body wrapped around you as you leaned into his hold. The smell of the detergent that you had grown overly fond of filling your senses.

“You’re early,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Surprise,” you said, smiling into his shoulder.

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth,” he groaned, pulling back slightly just to look at you, hands squeezing your hips like he wasn’t willing to fully let go.

“Well,” you said, fingers slipping around the drawstrings of his hoodie, “ You look exactly how I expected; still half-asleep.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve picked you up.”

You shrugged, “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“You’re insufferable,” he said, even as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead, “Come on, the cats probably think they’ve been abandoned.”

You stepped inside and Scar immediately emerged from under the coffee table like he’d been waiting for you to show up and restore some order in their lives. Kovu followed, pausing only to dramatically ignore Will in solidarity.

“What have you done to them?” you laughed, watching as Scar wound himself around your leg like you’d never left, both cats ignoring Will existence.

Will closed the door behind you, rubbing his face, “They are little fuckers I’m telling you.”

You let out a chuckle as you crouched down greeting your cats properly - petting their soft fur and kissing their little heads as they purred against you.

You lifted Kovu into your arms stepping into the living room like you belonged there (in Will’s eyes you did), flopping down onto the couch and kicking your shoes off. Will joined you a second later, still half-sleepy, still wearing mismatched socks, and still looking at you like he was trying to make sure this wasn’t some sort of dream.

You rested your head against his shoulder, “I’m exhausted.”

“I can imagine,” he said, voice quieter now, his eyes soft as he watched every slight movement you made.

The flat went quiet, the morning light spilling in through the windows, and only the soft hum of the city below being heard reminding you of everything you’d come back to. Everything you didn’t want to leave.

“Glad you’re back,” he mumbled, dropping a kiss into your hair.

You smiled looking up at him, “Me too.”

You stayed like that for a while - legs tangled, cats running around the flat, and the kind of comfortable that felt like home.

taglist: @jamiekluivert @reidyourpalms @roc-haze @whisperturnedecho @graceln4 @dopeysunflowers @super-gay-for-u @bethorwhateverr @livvymd @lilyyxoii @4ngelrealm @kiyoomology

[pearlesscentt]

kitchen floor picnic

it was finals week, or hell week as you’d affectionately call it, and due to the onslaught of deadlines, everything was in shambles. good thing, you have your boyfriend to weather that cyclone with you.

mingyu x reader, college!au, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k words

in contrast to science, sound traveled faster than light—literally at that very moment.

when MINGYU opened the door to your studio apartment, it was pitch black, and all he could hear were your soft snores and the whirring of the dinky air conditioner. he started walking in blindly, worried about waking you up if he dared to turn on the lights, so he just clutched the paper bag full of groceries and hoped for the best.

his luck seemed to run out within a few seconds, as it wasn't long before he tripped over something hard, making him yelp in pain.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath. when the noise registered, his head immediately snapped in your direction, and he sighed in relief when you remained fast asleep. he kneeled down to clutch the toe he had stubbed and reached for his phone. he fumbled with it before eventually clicking on the torch, realizing he tripped over your bicycle helmet lying haphazardly in the hallway.

she must've tossed it on the floor from exhaustion, he thought, picking it up to hang it on one of the hooks on the wall.

it was finals week, or hell week as you’d affectionately call it. “i might not survive,” you told him at the beginning of the week during an afternoon at the library. “in our next life, remind me never to study architecture. this is torture, i will never put myself through this again,” you groaned dramatically.

he reassured you of everything you were capable of because he knew by now that the theatrics were just a part of your process for acing your classes. if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were an exceptional student. that was why he could only chuckle as you spent the next fifteen minutes complaining about your program while also perfectly tracing the pencil marks with ease on the plan you were working on.

which brings MINGYU to his current predicament: he was standing in the middle of your apartment, unsure of what to do next. he turned on the downlights from the kitchen. it was still dark enough to not disturb your sleep, while being bright enough for him to see the current state of your place.

it was a mess—even the word felt like an understatement. it was a category 5 tropical cyclone. there were different drawing and drafting materials scattered everywhere, papers of different sizes covering every flat surface he could see, an unfinished scale model perched on top of your desk, a pile of clothes on your unmade bed (indistinguishable whether clean or dirty), and a bunch of empty energy drink cans and instant ramen cups. lastly, there you were on your loveseat sofa, sleeping soundly in a fetal position because of the drawing tube and t-square at the far end of it.

beep, beep, beep.

he flinched at the sound, his gaze shifting to the phone on the coffee table as it lit up due to the alarm. power nap alarm, he knew immediately. you moved in your sleep, reaching to turn it off.

after a few moments, you sat up, stretching your arms out. MINGYU watched, he couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you looked with your messy hair. soon enough, your eyes darted in his direction.

“hi,” he whispered with a little wave.

you furrowed your brows and blinked at him. it felt like an eternity before you spoke up, “shit, i’m hallucinating.”

“uh, i’m really here, babe.”

“gyu?”

“mhm.”

“gyu!” your face lit up in recognition. standing up to make your way to him, you were quick but careful not to step on any of the clutter on the floor. “you’re really here.”

he opened his arms for you and gave you a warm hug. he rested his cheek on the top of your head as you melted into the embrace.

“why are you here?” you asked against his chest.

“for an intervention,” he joked before kissing your forehead. “i’m here to make you real food.”

judging by the state of your place, you had been living off instant ramen, any caffeinated drink you could find, and whatever was on sale in the nearby convenience store. your stomach growled for some real food.

“go do your thing while i cook,” he said with a laugh.

nodding, you settled on the floor by the coffee table and grabbed a technical pen nearby. you drew some finishing touches on the plan, continuing where you left off earlier before your nap.

it took about 30 minutes, using the shuffling sounds from the kitchen as your white noise while you were laser-focused on your task at hand.

“babe, time for dinner,” he called out softly.

when you looked over, he was holding two plates of what looked like katsu curry and rice with a proud smile on his face. suddenly, you wondered: where are we gonna eat?

noticing the change in your expression, he said, “hey, it’s fine, we could just eat here.”

“eat where?” you asked, walking over to him. even the small island in the kitchen was full of papers, you didn't even know which ones were important anymore; while the counter space between the single burner stove and the sink was not enough for both of you to eat comfortably.

“here.”

you raised your eyebrows at him while he placed both plates on the counter. then, he went toward the round dining table and retrieved two placemats from underneath a different set of papers.

“let’s eat here,” he said, placing the placemats on the floor, “like a picnic.”

frozen in place, you stood in front of him, still confused.

“don’t worry, i mopped earlier while i was waiting for this to simmer.” he took the plates again and motioned for you to sit. “we have picnics on the grass at the park and on the sand at the beach all the time, what difference does your kitchen floor make?”

with nothing to counter his argument, you obliged. you sat down cross-legged and used the counter behind you as a backrest. MINGYU followed suit, placing your respective plates on the placemats in front of you.

“are you sure you have time for this?”

“for sharing a meal with you? always.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to place a kiss on your temple. “besides, i've already finished all my exams earlier.”

you raised your eyebrows, thinking about the days; it was just last week when you shared schedules with each other to stay informed in case the workload made it hard to give updates.

“i’m sorry, i forgot your schedule,” you sighed in defeat. your eyes misty as you turned to face him, a pang of guilt starting to consume you. “you had mine memorized, but i couldn’t even recall yours.”

“hey, it's okay, i understand.”

“but still…”

“but still—nothing.” he shook his head to assure you, “we’re not here to keep score, baby. we're here to take care of each other. now, let’s eat, hm?”

as you took the first bite, warmth radiated through your body. sure, the food was good, but it was MINGYU’s steadfast presence that calmed your storms. the onslaught of deadlines and exams was eased by his unwavering love and care.

in the dim light of the kitchen, amidst the scattered papers and unfinished projects, you felt a profound sense of peace. not because he made the cyclone disappear, but because he was there to weather it with you.

author's note: just a little something bc i'm so soft for mingyu's acts of service and bc i missed writing here :(

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[witless-winion1]

My thoughts on the paralyzed!Polites AU

(Which I really should do more research on; inspired by this)

Odysseus cries when Polites first wakes up

Eurylochus almost cries. Instead just let’s out a very shaky, relieved sigh and tells his friend “I’m glad you’re back”

his vision is messed with in that classic “Eye for an eye” vibe

His left arm is broken and yet he still insists on greeting the world with open arms

“Don’t you mean open arm?”

“You hush, Perimedes.”

So much survivor’s guilt but he’s very thankful to be alive and honors his fallen friends with Ody and everyone else

He basically can’t walk without help

Odysseus carves him a cane himself

It has a bunch of super cool details, including a winion

Polites adores it

(perhaps they go back to the Lotus Eater island and kidnap a winion for Polites? Like a comfort animal. Give Polites, my Disney Princess Pancake, a familiar plz)

But Polites needs a lot of help with things that require both arms or both legs or gods forbid all four

one dumbass numbnuts comments “would’ve been kinder to let him die” under his breath after Polites wakes up

Captain nearly throws him overboard

obviously

“My best friend would be delighted to live life in whatever form it came to him! You shut your fucking mouth and if I ever hear you say such wretched nonsense again I’m going to put you on latrine duty for a month, am I understood?”

Eurylochus has to hold him back during this

Eurylochus also immediately assumes position of bodyguard of Polites.

He and Odysseus soon begin fighting over this job

they decide to share custody

(eventually)

OPEN ARMS REPRISES BUT HES ACTUALLY ALIVE!!!!

plot? Oh yeah plot

lmao what plot

after the Cyclopes passes out Ody is too busy making sure his friend is okay (which he is not). He gets somebody to check the other smashees and then stays by Poli’s side (no, he don’t give a shit that he’s captain, you guys go stab his eye, he’s asleep it’s not that fucking hard)

Odysseus carries Polites when the Cyclopes wakes up

he’s too busy thinking about getting him back to the ship and calling the best doctors from the 12 ships so he tells everyone to grab the sheep and HUSTLE

Athena grabs him and starts with her “HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS I TAUGHT YOU? HE’S STILL A THRE-”

“ATHENA IM BUSY RN WE CAN TALK LATER”

“BUT HE’S STILL ALIVE-”

“WE’RE FUCKING LEAVING BRO! HE’S NOT GONNA SWIM AFTER US!”

they’re not on best terms for a while after that but they still reconcile after

then they get home! Whoop de do, congrant, 99.7777777778% of the canon plot avoided

when they get home and our sunshine is actually properly long-term treated, Odysseus and Telemachus’s first big father-son bonding project is to make Polites’ house more accessible for him

and Telemachus fucking loves Polites. Best Uncle Award. They vibe so hard that Odysseus cries

he almost cries when Penelope starts weaving clothes that are easier for his friend to wear. He’s a tiinnyyy bit jealous but he’s still so happy. And Penelope noticed and weaves her dear husband some clothes too, all his old ones are stinky asf

Eurylochus and all Poli’s friends from the ship still visit regularly. It’s just a big happy family

and nobody dies, not even Nobody

(except for those other guys from the Cyclopes cave but this ain’t about them)

Edit: Polites’ job when he gets back is a shepherd (thanks @wukyma for the idea, and the art they make of shepherd Polites is ADORABLE go check it out). He loves the fluffy lil clouds and their adorable sounds, even though sometimes his old wounds tingle on bad days around them. He tries not to remember that.

he likes just relaxing in the field with them, and sometimes Odysseus and Telemachus come hang on and they all just sit and talk and tell stories