#and *this* is different than just a small pat and quick hug

[lunart-06]

Kamukura with emotions doesn't make him weaker than before, just because he's in relationship with Makoto doesn't mean he's gone completely *soft*. He's only gone soft in just one angle, the rest is still pretty much still the same except now he perfers to rest his head on Makoto's lap than anything else that was already available for him to simply just lean his head against.

The first thing he feels when being around makoto isn't *love*, it's simply the same feeling he always felt which is *boredom*. And the second that came along wasn't the first thing mentioned, it's *interest* (from the form of the prespective of boring normalcy that differs his own) that slowly by time turned into *obsession* (realizing this whole thing is much better than when being stuck in the tight room in his lab) and by then began to be sticking around the guy instead of the other way around and it'll be a surprise to Makoto one day and to Makoto that will only be taken as an invitation to be closer. A progress.

All in all *love* will be the LAST THING appeared even AFTER they were in a relationship because it is something that Kamukura HAS to come in terms or accept himself, or realising too late to stop it cause he only accept to be "in a relationship" (with the entitlement of 'lovers' or 'partners' and everything) with Makoto simply in a way so Makoto can stay close to him (knowing the guy's unyielding loyalty and used that to his gain), because Makoto continues to make himself intriguing to Kamukura in his own boring, simple ways because Kamukura has grow to hate and berated normalcy of the untalented by his teachers and developed it through there. Plus he never gets to experience or learn a lot more of it other than the lab staffs' explanation of how "boring" it is and it's seem to also be the reason *he* became Kamukura in the first place as well.

(So the beggining of their relationship itself, the "love" part was one-sided. Kinda. In a way)

Sure it *is* boring. The whole "normal lifestyle" thing is sure sucked away his life source (if he even had one) and it's already just as he expected even when he lets Makoto around for at least a few days, he only let the guy around cause his luck is unexpected at most times but then of COURSE Makoto would use those times to shimmy his way into Kamukura's life. Shortly yet slowly. A very strange pace it is but it worked well with both of them.

His sickening optimistic, motivating nature to upbring Kamukura's gloomy, unmotivated one to pull him in the most boring of activities eventhough he had stated either directly or indirectly that those are, obviously, *boring*.

But Makoto's other traits that has first caught him just *slightly* off guard (which is. Rare and almost to never) was his undeterred determination to prove someone wrong (either in a morality sense in what was naively generally right). Perhaps he has been too assuming of Makoto's commonly pushover antics, or maybe Makoto's usual everyday and everytime genuine optimism has put his guard down just a bit that it made him passed by the fact that Makoto- no matter how positive and hopeful- *can* get mad or bothered if being triggered in certain ways. Certain ways as in if it involves someone else or views of things morally in a negative sense (the reaction made Makoto look more.. real. Something along that line).

Im also thinking how at some point, that *stubborn* determination that *always* butts in whenever Kamukura try to state or refuse. To try and always attempting to change his mind and at some point it led to another breaking point leading to the next change and that would be Kamukura- in his still usual bored tone yet out of character dialogue, said, in *annoyance*; "can you shut up." And doesn't THAT caught them BOTH off guard.

Silence followed when both were lost in their own thoughts in trying to process it before Makoto snapped out of it first to apologise for crossing the line and in promise to not do it again. Which, Kamukura is fine with but at the same time- "no" he would say, "keep talking". Cause sure, Kamukura has a fair share of being annoyed sometimes, but THIS is different, because just *how* can he be so easily annoyed over something so... *simple* as Makoto to be able to *blurted out* the moment of thought? It's something worth to explore more. To *experience*. Because it's new and when it's new, it's usually *interesting and unexpected* to someone like Kamukura.

And sometimes it's not just usually some new emotion just popped up at certain times, it's also the fact how constant it is of how the emotions he had experienced off kept *shifting*. He'd be bored then suddenly feeling intrigued in something then suddenly be slightly fluttery-ish? ('Amused' he noted) or suddenly feeling heavy in his chest ('sadness' he thought), heck, even the feeling of something clawing his insides when Makoto almost get a brick crushed his own head ('fear' he whispered to himself) then suddenly sometimes shifts back to being bored, then intrigued, then over and over in an out of order cycle. It either shift back to the same things or it develops something new.

It was never just one thing everyday just like how things are before meeting Makoto- like continuously be bored of everything and that's what makes things both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time.

I also think that another thing that pulls Kamukura to Makoto is that just from Makoto, wanting to hang out and stick to him, to befriended him, with the payment only be *spending some time with Kamukura* and not to use him for his talents and abilities alone. Is one thing Kamukura unmanaged to just *understand* or fully grasp. In the end though he resolved by thinking that perhaps this is just a Makoto thing. That Makoto is being too good or cared too much of others in a way. But it does put Kamukura in a good "hm..." moment though.

I have a funny imagery that Kamukura just seem to be more often being put *slightly* off guard more by Makoto (wether intentionally or unintentionally which is usually the latter) than anyone else does. To which he be more on guard than he is before and to not jump to the most obvious conclusions or assumptions on some people because, of course, the Makoto situation and all. To which also means it made him statistically *more* dangerous than before (congrats Makoto! You made him more cautious or more thoughts in than usual of what was around him!).

His obsession in wanting to keep Makoto close to him by time will become apart of his own conciousness that *I* believe to be the case. Because after everything?? Everything that happened for the last few months?? Wether before or after being together (though I believe the moment they are together is the moment where the feeling became more hecticly stronger)?? It would only be obvious that he would, for once, *accidentally* (cause really, since when does being with Makoto Naegi means anything gone as planned?) Putting the obsession from wanting Naegi close because he is the first and often only source of interest for Kamukura's own bargained to wanting Makoto close because suddenly he was in too deep in the pit he had been *still* continuously dig himself in and finding that he doesn't *like* it when Makoto was out of reach.

(Going from trying to keep the guy around for selfish reasons by means to keep himself out of his usual bored state [cause let's face it, Kamukura isn't a good person, nor a bad one either, heck doesn't even attempted in search to at least *try* to quench his boredom just because he lacks any sort of motivation. But if the interesting thing were to suddenly presented dangling just in sight he WILL grab onto it tightly.], to obsessively trying to not get the guy lost out of his reach figuratively or metaphorically sense cause he *knows* that he will never *feels* something like this again, to feeling just *right* to have Makoto close to him and not letting go just because he doesn't *like* it)

I doubt Kamukura even realised the moment he had been *attached* to Makoto, simply because he had never experience emotions in the first place other than just knowing the basic theories to diagnose others in. And when he did, it's too late by then (it won't be him unable to escape Makoto. No, no, on the contrary, Makoto will be unable to escape *him*).

So anyways. Love isn't the priority to Kamukura since the very beggining in the start of their relationship, because the other foreign subjects that is emotions (twinging sadness, light amusement, flickering annoyance, poisonous jealousy, and dare he not admit the clawing fear) *are* the foundations that build his own *version* of what was the concept of 'Love' is.

Love is different to everyone afterall, so far what Kamukura has learned and see, if there was anything the same about all of it is that; love is a form of passion, and the connection of the bonds, it can be different from others, but Kamukura *doesn't* feel anything a lot WITH anyone else in general more than he is with Makoto. So essentially to him, it was different. It's not love that was viewed *generally* but it was his own version nonetheless.

This is just *my* insight of how I see Kamuegi *in* Kamukura's prespective. Cause he is my favorite character to write. You can do so many things to him in certain situations no matter how impossible it seem to try and not break his character. But that's the thing. You NEED to break certain characters, but as long as you didn't break the fundamental core of their characters then trust me, it's more of a scratch or a rather small crack on a ceramic vase than it looking all smashed up.

Sometimes you GOTTA make a scratch or heck, added something on it, without it losing it's shape or material as a ceramic vase, in order to make it slightly more jazzam get it? Or to make it work for the theme of the room you placed it in. (Not me using the vase metaphor for all of this)

[bunnys-kisses]

mv

max verstappen (mv1)

cw: smut/pwp, tattoos, (slight) possessive behavior, coercion, bimbo!reader, doggy style, multiple orgasms

bunny says: 👀

max just adored you. there was something about you that brought him to life. more than a driver, more than a winner. max would describe himself as committed to the point that he could be obsessive. once he had his eye on the prize, he would see it through to the end.

wins, championships, sponsorships, you.

mad max was an unstoppable force. when it came to you however, max was a whole different man. he could feel the curl of jealousy in his gut as he watched you be your typical, friendly self at the paddock. max couldn't help it.

you were an excited little bunny when you ran up to hug sergio, you practically jumped as you held him. he came in at a strong fourth and you wanted to make sure he felt like he did a good job too!

"you did great!"

"thank you, thank you!" he laughed as he held you in return. as he gave you a quick hug he could see over your shoulder, max verstappen, teammate and winner, looking back at him with his arms crossed.

yeah, he didn't want to cross that line and pulled away. he smiled at you and said, "you should go see our winner." then patted you on the shoulder.

you nodded, you were so painfully innocent at times. then you scampered off to your boyfriend. you ran into his arms and gave him a big hug and kiss.

he held you jaw and looked into your eyes, "someone busy?"

"all the attention was on you, max! i wanted to make sure sergio knew he did good as well."

he pulled you in for another kiss and said, "i see." as he looked at you. he said with a small smile, "you're just too sweet. now come on. let's see me on the podium."

you were a flirt, maybe not purposefully but, you could just be so friendly that it bordered on flirting. you cared deeply about how people felt! you didn't want anyone to feel like shit about themselves. max thought it was adorable, but it could get you into trouble sometimes.

like when a mechanic tried to pick you up or when you were just so sweet to toto wolff that he thought that you were flirting with him. you were going to give poor max a heart attack!

you were back in the hotel room at sliverstone, with your hands on a slice of pizza. you told him earlier that those expensive appetizers post-game weren't going to cut it as a meal.

you were in a pair of sleeping shorts that were pushed up by the way you were seated and one of max's redbull t-shirts that really showed off your chest. you made a soft noise as you bit into the slice. it had been a while since you had unhealthy, greasy food.

max was seated beside you on the couch, the box of warm pizza between you two. he took in the slight of your body and your sweet noises. you just looked too painfully cute.

he reached over and touched your hair, "does it taste good?"

you nodded and looked at him, the glint in your eye turned him on. you were just so honest and kind, and it drove him up the wall! not in a bad way, he didn't want to dampen your spirits. he loved it all about you. but he also felt like he needed a way to claim a sort of ownership over you.

the idea came to him when you moved just the right way and the shorts slid up enough to show the roundness of your behind. it was like a light bulb went off in his head as he watched you adjust yourself. he leaned over the pizza box to get closer to you as he asked, "how would you feel about a tattoo?"

"tattoo?" you asked.

he nodded, "yeah, i think you'd look cute with a tattoo. then everyone in the paddock would know who you belonged to."

you blinked at him, "they don't already? i wear your number all the time!" you put the slice back in the box and tapped your greasy bottom lip, "i swear they knew."

god, you were just too sweet. he reached out for you and held your chin gently, "maybe my verstappen logo on your..behind." he moved the box onto the table and invaded your space, "i mean, you will be mrs. verstappen soon." he kissed your cheek gently.

you devolved into a flurry of giggles and said, "max! don't say that!" and looked at him when he pulled away, "do you really mean that?"

he touched your cheek, he wasn't lying. but there were things that needed to be done before you took his last name. but, he just smiled and said, "sooner than you know." then kissed you on the lips, the taste of pizza grease felt inviting as he got himself on top of you.

it wouldn't be long before you had an appointment booked for a special tattoo. max watched you lie there with your ass to the air on the tattoo table. you had a thin pair of white panties on and when the needle touched your skin, you made a small noise.

he had figured out that you were into this. you liked the sharp pain of getting a tattoo as you got max's logo tattooed onto your skin. he had seen other people with the tattoo, in less sensitive areas. but to see you have it aroused him as he sat nearby with his face against his fist and seated on a chair.

his blue eyes watched the ink flourish in its design. it was just a logo but he almost had to bite his fist to keep himself from ogling you. you whimpered at one point and made a pouty face at him for him to hold your hand.

he was more than happy to do so, the tattoo artist struck up an conversation. and max smiled and answered his questions. he just kept rubbing your knuckle as he happily told the artist all about your relationship. he liked that you were lying there quiet as the machine buzzed against your ass.

"are you feeling alright?" he asked as he pushed back your hair and smiled down at you.

you nodded, "yeah, i'll be okay. just a weird feeling."

max looked over to see that the tattoo was almost done and it looked perfect. the 'm' and the 'v' of the logo were perfect and max had to compose himself in his seat. once you were done, he watched you as you carefully put your tiny shorts back on.

the tattoo was on the side of your ass which allowed you to still sit down in max's expensive car after the session. max was beyond overjoyed at the knowledge that you had his mark on your body.

he kept his hand on your thigh as he drove you back to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. he could feel his cock stir in his pants as he asked, "did it hurt?"

you looked at him and shook your head, "nope! well, not too much, but i was able to pull through because you were there!" you shot him a smile.

max gripped your thigh with affection before he helped you out of the car. he ushered you into the hotel, his patience and ability to keep it together was wearing thin. he needed to see you, with all your clothes and only the bandage covering the tattoo being the only thing on your body.

it wasn't hard to shepherd you into bed. he was careful about getting you out of those clothes of yours. he watched you with lust in his eyes as he you sat at the edge of the bed naked.

his jaw clenched in unrestrained desire as he felt his heart rate pick up. he got undressed before he cornered you on the bed, you laid back and he said, "i want to try something."

soon you were on your hands and knees with your ass sticking up in the air. perfect angle for the driver to sink his cock into your sweet pussy. he looked at the shape of you, the beauty of your curves and that bandage against your ass.

he wanted to peel it back see the ink job. he wanted to watch it move as he slammed his cock into you. the arousal built up in him paired with the possessiveness he held for you.

you were just so painfully innocent at times. he was doing this to protect you, no one would touch his beloved girl if she wore his logo. now a more rational max would've picked a cute gold chain or even a shirt. but max had to go the full mile. shirts would one day not fit and gold could be ruined.

he watched the bandage move as he fucked you. in a few weeks it'll come off and he could watch that logo bounced as he sank his entire cock into you.

"such a good girl." you'd give him the world. and he in turn would give you the stars. anything you desired would be yours, all he asked was for an undying loyalty. maybe he was a little paranoid, but he was desperate to make sure that the one he loved stayed by him.

he landed a smack across the side of your ass without the tattoo. he could feel the warmth in his gut, it seeped into his head as he continued to batter his cock against the back of your cunt. encouraged by your strung out moans as you felt heat course through your body.

two lovers, fucking like animals. stripping the skin of humanity and dunked into the carnal desire to fuck. you were a pitiful little puppy who loved attention while he was the hound who'd keep you safe and your cunt full.

his hands gripped onto your hips, feeling the softness under his palms. he rutted against you, his breath hot against your sweaty neck as he kept you bent to get the best angle of the bandage.

he couldn't wait, he also couldn't wait to show it off. he was a possessive little fuck, the world at his fingertips and he dug them into the meat of your hips.

the bed creaked under the both of you as he fucked you with abandon. your heat was in a whirlwind and there was coating of sweat all over you.

max came two before you did, the grip of your wet cunt around him drove him almost mad. but he kept fucking you sweet cum filled pussy until you arched you back even further and climaxed around him.

hims cum pooled in the back of your pussy thanks to the angle. and you panted heavily on the bed. he pulled out and watched his pearly cum leak out of your poor pussy.

"can't have that." he said as he collected it on his fingers and shoved them back in you. he dove his two fingers into your sweet pussy. then fingered you until you were a whimpery, whiny mess.

a perfect girl,

he managed to pull another orgasm out of you before he took out his fingers and watched you go limp onto the bed. the fight was long out of you. you laid on your side, exhausted with your mind swarming in circles. your pulse as quick as things seemed to slow down. you panted heavily. max held your face in his hands and he kissed the tip of your nose.

"good girl." he praised.

about a month later, on the track you looked divine in your little tennis skirt. you should've had "max #1" written across the ass. as he pulled you against his side, he hiked your skirt a little to show the side your thigh and ass. there was his logo.

he smirked with his face close against yours. for all eyes to see. you were max verstappen's <3.

[ataraxixia]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

❦ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. sunday had a change of wardrobe and you admire him ❧ tags. sunday x reader, spoilers for 'Farewell Penacony' quest- and all penacony quests tbh, stellaronhunter!sunday, small teasing, fluff, comfort and angst ❧ a/n. ik it's not confirmed that sunday will join the stellaron hunters (yet), but c'mon- we all wish that he will join them, also I don't like this so I'll probably redo this when I've got the energy / outfit reference: oversaltedcat on twt

"Oh, wow- You look.. I dare to say even more handsome than before."

"Surely you must be overreacting. I don't look that much different."

Right now, you were on another spaceship- which belonged to the infamous Stellaron Hunters- in another star system, complimenting your dear lover Sunday's new set of clothes, which Kafka had ordered to be specifically tailored for him.

the overall design was basically the same as before, yet, ultimately different as well. his blouse was white, covered by a long, dark vest adorned with golden accents and detachable sleeves on both arms. the brooch he usually wore on his left chest was replaced by another one, right on his collar, and instead of white gloves, his were now black.

you glanced down quick, seeing that the thigh-strap was still present- a piece that you always loved.

"never said you looked different." you muttered as you stood before him, evening out his collar and slightly grazing your fingertips against his neck. a small gasp was all he let out before composing himself with a deep breath. "You made it sound like it."

you took a few steps back to take a good look again, thanking the tailor who made the outfit in your mind before sitting beside him on the couch again, "I didn't," you said, "it was just a compliment."

he scoffed playfully, knowing he didn't have the energy to argument with you anyway.

sunday would have never thought that he, former Head of the Oak Family in Penacony, would end up as a new member of the Stellaron Hunters. Fallen from grace and saved from eternal damnation by one of the most infamous criminals known to the vast cosmos. Ironic, he thought the first time they all met, yet, he got used to their company quite fast.

He remembers waking up- not in the chair he was chained up before- but in a comfortable, cozy bed with you by his side. The headaches had subdued over the time being with rest and medication, but the memories of him and robin at the Penacony Grand Theatre have not faltered. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt. The last he'd seen of his sister was when she embraced him during the fall, right before they plummeted to the ground.

"why are you looking at me like that?"

"just admiring my boyfriend. can't I indulge in your new-found beauty?"

sunday ignored your playful comment as he stood up from the couch, patting down some wrinkles and adjusting his gloves until everything was smoothed out- he still cared for his looks being neat and clean, after all.

"there are.. actually more clothes from the tailor and I am in need of a judge..." he gave you his usual charming and cunning smile which you knew all too well before you jumped up from the couch as well, grabbing his arm and hugging it close to your chest.

"say no more, i'll be your judge." you beamed, "maybe the next outfit will make you even more handsome than the last."

[saetoshi]

itoshi sae can’t sleep well when you’re gone. he’s too used to the feeling of your warmth next to his on the bed.

he spends his nights lying awake, a frown on his face as he rolls around to your side of the bed. he gets a wink of sleep before his alarm goes off. his brows furrow as he contemplates throwing his phone against the wall. (he never does—he hates the thought of not seeing your face pop up on his lock screen more than going another day without sleep).

his phone buzzes in his hand, an incoherent grumble leaving his lips before he rolls out of bed. he glances at the screen, disappointment bubbling in his chest when he sees the text isn’t yours.

he goes through the motions when you’re gone—his eyes lingering a little too long on your bottle of soap on the shower’s shelves. his hand subconsciously reaches for your shampoo, his heart swelling when the fresh, fruity scent fills his senses. he doesn’t linger for too long when brushing his teeth, his eyes actively avoiding your missing toothbrush.

sae can’t stand going to practice when you’re away. somehow, he gets more irritable than usual. he gets pickier with the passes he gives—even pickier with the way his teammates receive the passes. it’s bad enough that his coach sends him home on days like these. (it’s even worse how his manager lectures him on the way home).

he expects emptiness when he opens the door to his apartment, a sour look on his face. he kicks the door closed, a loud slam echoing through the place, his eyes shut closed as he tries to calm down.

“what’d the door ever do to you?”

his eyes snap open, his head whipping to the side. his annoyance melts away almost immediately—the corners of his eyes softening the longer he looks at that grin on your lips.

“nothing,” he breathes out, kicking off his shoes in a hurry before closing the distance between the two of you.

a smile worms its way onto his lips when you stretch your arms out. he walks into your embrace, hugging you tight until you’re patting his back and telling him you can’t breathe.

he rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes drifting to your suitcase next to the couch. “when did you get back?” he asks, his voice soft.

“not too long ago,” you reply, gently rubbing circles on his upper back. you chuckle when he pecks the crook of your neck, giving him a small squeeze. he huffs, his arms tightening around you before he kisses your clavicle.

“i missed you,” he whispers, the words muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“i know,” you say, patting his back in a soothing manner, “i missed you too, sae.”

“don’t leave for long ever again,” he adds, pulling back just enough to look at you. he frowns when you laugh, bringing his hand up to flick your forehead.

“i was only gone for a week,” you grumble, rubbing the spot he flicked. your eyes scan his face, your brows furrowing slightly. “you’ve been gone for longer.”

“it’s different,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears flushing. “because we’re on different timezones.” (it makes ignoring the distance easier, he wants to add. but he won’t—not today, anyway).

you sigh, faintly shaking your head. he tsks, pouting as he rests his forehead against yours, “it’s not the same when we’re in the same time, but in different places.”

his hands gently pry yours from his back, the corners of his lips quirking up into the hint of a smile when he laces his fingers through yours. his eyes find yours, a soft hum leaving his lips. “don’t leave for too long ever again,” he repeats, his words hushed.

“it was just a week,” you murmur, your eyes softening in amusement.

“a week too long,” he quips, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you open your mouth to reply before he cuts you off, “don’t ever leave for too long without me ever again.”

you puff your cheeks, softly sighing before you nod. “okay,” you say, shaking your head when he smiles. he can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth when you call him a spoiled brat under your breath.

“good,” he says, giving you a quick peck.

“good,” you echo, leaning up to give him a peck in return.

a soft hum leaves your lips, your eyes warm as you gently tug him into the bedroom. (neither of you choose to say something about the way he grabs your suitcase as you drag him away).

he doesn’t complain when you shove him down on the bed, placing his head on your pillow before leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“i’m too old to be tucked into bed,” he says, his eyes following your movements as you pull up the comforter to his chin. (still, he can’t help the grin growing on his lips when you smack his knee).

“just go to sleep,” you say, hoisting your suitcase on his side of the bed to unpack. your eyes flicker to his, a teasing smile on your lips, “you look uglier with those bags under your eyes.”

“i hate you.”

“whatever you say,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“i missed you,” he yawns, his eyes struggling to stay open.

“i missed you too,” you reply, your voice full of affection when you glance at him.

“you better be here when i wake up,” he murmurs, yawning once more as his eyes close. there’s a smile on his lips as he drifts off to sleep, his heart lighter than it’s been for the week.

“i wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

[sugarverse]

𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝙾𝚞𝚝 📚📖

word count: 3.3k out of 9.4k

synopsis: you, 23 reader, have been working at a library on the corner for awhile until your boss invites a hero to come and visit. The hero also happens to ask for your number... <3

authors note: yikes i know, it was originally in three parts but I don't necessarily know how to break it up, originally the story was 12k. it's written for poc!reader/black!fem!reader so there's mentions of brown skin and eyes but other than that it's your normal x reader. Izuku is aged up to 25, The smut is in the second part.

moodboard for fic by @fizziedoodle !

“Hey Miss!!” You peered down at the smaller voice, simultaneously feeling a book slip from your hand and onto the ground with a thud. The bookshelf wasn’t too high, but you still needed a ladder to organize and dust the top shelf. Which… hadn’t been so pleasant with children running around before their daily read. Regardless, you had a job to do. It wasn’t gonna stop for a ton of kids. You had been rearranging the books in alphabetical order before the kid startled you.. Thank god it didn’t fall on their head.

“Are you gonna read to us today? Or is Miss Maggie?” The kid didn’t look over six years old, blue eyes and long brown hair with freckles littering her face in the sweetest way. She wore a small dress full of sunflowers with bright pink gel shoes. You’ve definitely seen her before, although her name wasn’t ringing a bell.

“I wanted to read one of those pigeon stories you read us last time!” She squeaked, shoving the book in your direction. You let out a sigh of relief, climbing down to the ground. Leaning down to be eye-level with her, taking the book gently from the girl. The title read The Pigeon Needs A Bath.

“This book is pretty thin, You sure you want me to read just this one book, sweetheart?” You ask, handing the girl the book back before standing straight. Your hands found their way into your pockets, looking for your notepad to mark the row complete after you snagged the book back from the ground. 

“I’ll go find some more!” She hurried off, going to find even more things to shove in your face. You climb back up to finish your organizing. Their reading wasn’t for another.. what? 20 minutes? You had time to knock out another shelf. Time flew by as you finished reorganizing, hearing bigger footsteps behind you than the average 6 year old.

“I have to stop by Goodwill and get some more books.. I also gotta stop at the post office and some.. other errands?” The owner of the store, Maggie, looked over to make sure she had gotten your attention before naming off a few things that needed done in the shop “You got this reading?”

“Of course, What time will you be back?” You climbed down the last step of the ladder, patting off the dust from the bookcase that had gotten on your apron. It was some cutesy light blue apron you wore so the dust wouldn’t ruin your clothing. It didn’t match everything you wore but the baby blue made your skin pop. 

“I’ll be back in time for that uh, Pro hero guy..” She snapped her fingers, trying to place a face and a name. “I don’t know exactly who- my wife wrote him in.” Maggie waved her hand, grabbing her bag from behind the counter as you followed. “But I’ll be back to close, Promise y/n!” She gave you a quick side hug, rushing out the door.

You weren’t too involved with all the hero bullshit, competing for the number one spot on who can save more lives to be rich and famous? Please. The system in itself is ass and it wouldn’t make a difference in your everyday life for one of those snobby people to stop by. The kids seemed to love it, quirkless or not. You walked around to the counter, placing your notepad next to the register before going to sit in the small corner of the shop for reading time. Maggie left with a wave, letting a small chime rang through the shop as it called the children over for their reading, a few already sitting and ready to listen.

The library wasn’t big, it was a corner store completely renovated into a library for children. The second floor had been an apartment where the owner and her wife stayed. It was a cozy little place where neighborhood kiddos would visit for a read, parents come in to buy a few books. Maggie always made sure there was something for everyone, Along with cute little toys and those foam floor mats to sit on. The girl from earlier held 4 books in her hands, rushing to sit near the front with her pile. A few other kids held thin picture books in their hands as well, but only having 15 minutes to read to them, you knew you wouldn’t get to them all.

“Alright, Who’s first?“ You asked, smiling down at them. All twelve of them raised their hand, some even raising both so your attention was on them. Of course this wasn’t going to be easy. You thought to yourself as you put a hand over your eyes, pointing to some random kid. He held a small book, standing up slowly and handing it to you.

"My mommy reads me this sometimes..” If you give a mouse a cookie. You gave him a reassuring smile before he went back to his seat. You began to read and in no time at all you finished reading the few books children selected. Thank god it was a Friday, Most children would be picked up right after the reading for afternoon preschool etc. But it seemed like no one wanted to leave.. Was it that hero Maggie had mentioned? You sighed, hopping up and heading to the check out desk where you saw a small line of children waiting to scan their books. The store bell jingled, as if the creak of the door didn’t give away someone walking in.

“Welcome to ‘Maggie’s Magical Bookshop,’ You paid the person no mind as you spoke, handing the last child their book before letting your gaze fall upon the… very tall man in front of you. Noise almost immediately filled the shop, children running up to him screaming-

"Deku!” As loud as their little lungs could. He gave a flashy smile, leaning down to hug the children that ran straight for his legs. He laughed and lifted a few of them in his.. very strong arms. Was it hot in the bookshop? Was the AC fucked up? You force your eyes from the tall man.. fumbling with something on the desktop. Was he looking at you too? Your mind screamed at you to introduce yourself, Quickly walking towards a shelf to do something. Anything besides gawk at him.

“Are you Maggie?” There were hopping children behind him, playing with his gloves and such as he spoke up. You stopped in your tracks, huffing through your nose before turning around to face him.

“No, I’m y/n. Are you the um.. pro? She had been talking about?” He extended a hand, nodding with a cheesy grin on his face as soon as your hand was in his. It wasn’t like you never saw him on the news, but you sure did skip the channel as soon as it was some bullshit hero chart over who had been number one. He was newer to being a pro, you knew that much. He was also so much hotter in person..

“Yes! I’m sorry I’m so early, I finished patrol sooner than I thought!- I hope I’m not interrupting anything! The woman on the phone said before six, I told her I was sure I could make it before then!” Your eyes never left his, watching his gaze fall to your lips for a moment as he spoke.

“You’re fine, There’s plenty of time for you to hang out and sign all of their t-shirts and such. Make yourself at home, The reading area might be best for the swarm you got..” The kids dragged him to where you were just moments ago before he could respond, talking his ears off about different silly topics.

The poor hero stayed until close, kids coming from school to see him before going off to finish homework. It’s the busiest the store has been since opening day! However, Izuku made it a point to stay that long. He spent the last 45 minutes of the store being open to make some conversation with you, he just couldn’t help himself. You had this smile that he couldn’t resist. And quite frankly, he wasn’t used to the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He fought some shit villain every day, What’s a few butterflies? Especially as pretty as you. Why wouldn’t he want to stick around?

“I really didn’t think it would be so calm this week! It feels like I’ve done nothing but catch up on papers!” The hero scratched his neck with his index finger, shaking his head lightly. “I guess I really am doing a good job!- Of course other pros are doing their jobs as well!” He let out a relieved chuckle, looking at you with a big, sincere, smile on his face. “How has work here been? It must be so nice working with so many children!”

You feel your eyes involuntarily roll, shaking your head and leaning against the wall behind you. “It’s nice until some kid gets sick on themselves and their mother isn’t here to help. We have extra clothing in the back because it’s happened more than once.. I don’t understand why kids throw up so much.” Your groan turned into a laugh, eyes leading to lost n found. You had an unamused look on your face talking about it. He noticed but couldn’t stop looking at your soft brown eyes. He felt like he was a kid all over again, the blush on his face never faulting.

“I see adults get sick all of the time if you can believe it..” He chuckled, looking out of the store window for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you have a number I can text? I would love to talk to you more.. If that’s okay with you?” He braced for rejection, It was kinda weird to be hitting on you after dealing with kids wasn’t it? Maybe he should take it back. Was he coming off sleazy? Maybe he should talk to you a few times before he asks.

Your eyes widened in the slightest, feeling a smile tug at your lips. “Sure, Let me see your phone,” You stepped closer to the counter, seeing him fumble in the pouch of his belt before handing you his phone. You went to his contacts, making yourself one of them and handing it right back to him. He had an even bigger, cheesier, grin on his face after he took it back.

“I have to um.. I have to go back to my agency to make sure everything is settled for the night. I’ll be texting you as soon as I’m off!” He spoke quickly, stumbling over his words as he slowly backed towards the door. “I hope you have a good night y/n!” He waved, bumping into the door with his back before quickly leaving. He didn’t want to continue making a fool of himself.

Finally, you could go home as well. Not that he was a problem, but that man sure could talk. It was endearing. You thought to yourself, grabbing your keys and walking out to lock the small bookshop up. There was no doubt that you were attracted to him. Every woman in America.. Japan, Hell the world was attracted to him in some way. But he asked for your number. You felt your chest swell with some kind of pride. By the time you made it home, he had already texted. You two made plans to hang out soon and have dinner together. You talked for hours until you eventually fell asleep. He was ecstatic. You really enjoyed his company.

As the next Friday rolls around, He tells you to put on the most fancy thing you have in your closet. He refused to tell you where he was taking you, only that he’d be to pick you up at 6. You weren’t one for surprises but this couldn’t go too bad. Fancy clothing? Had to be a dinner! You hoped it was just dinner. Your social battery couldn’t take being fancy for more than about two hours max.

And 6:00pm sharp, there he was. He wore a shiny black tux with a handsome sage green tie, carrying flowers for you. Thinking that roses were too cliche, he had bought you a bouquet of daisies and pink lilies. He took a deep breath, walking up to your door and knocking before taking a small step back, wanting to give you some space to avoid smothering you as soon as you opened the door. The gold watch on his wrist flickered in the sunlight, the reflection of the light shimmering across your chest as you answered the door.

You had on a short, silk, black dress, fitting to your body in the best way possible. Your hair was done, your make-up was done, you even had on these cute black glittery heels you got on sale. You looked stunning. He blinked a few times, scanning your body with his emerald eyes. His jaw stayed slack, struggling to speak at first. “You look gorgeous.. I-I brought you flowers.!” He extended his arms out to hand them to you, feeling his face radiate heat from how red he had gotten. He tried to fan himself, laughing softly.

You simply smiled, taking them and going to put them in a vase. “You can come inside if you’d like! It’s not really tux weather, huh Deku?” You teased, turning on the water from your faucet and looking back at him.

He quickly nodded, walking in and shutting the door quietly behind him. “Please- Call me Izuku.” You undid the rubber band on the bouquet, sliding the flowers into the vase along with the small flower food it came with. 

“Is that your first or last name?” He looked around your cozy apartment, looking at pictures and the designs on the coffee table. Just soaking in small details. “My first name, Midoriya is my last..” He looked over at you, hearing the small clunk of glass hit the table lightly as you set the vase down. You bent over slightly, centering it at the table and moving the napkins to the kitchen counter top instead. “How’s it look, Izuku?” You looked over at him, standing up straight and leaning your arms on the back of the dining room chair.

He let his eyes drift over to the vase, smiling as he felt his face finally cool down. “I think it looks great! I didn’t want to get you roses, I just thought it was.. boring?” He didn’t want you to be allergic in some way or throw them away right after he left. Then again, He couldn’t ask what your favorite flowers had been. You would have known what he was getting. You began walking over to him, grabbing your handbag. “I think it looks pretty! Are you ready to leave?”

He beamed, nodding and opening the door for you. He gave a small bow for you to go first. You thank him, flicking off a few lights on the way out. He followed before shutting the door. You lock it with a small hum, checking that it was locked before walking you to the.. fucking limo he had waiting? Your eyes shot open in surprise, looking over at him as he looped his arm around yours and walked you to the newly washed, maybe even newly painted, vehicle.

“I hope I didn’t go too overboard? I just wanted the first date to be nice. Ya know?” He flashed a small smile, opening the door for you and hopping in himself as you two drove into town. You looked around the area, seeing fancy liquor and wine glasses close to a very clean mirror. The seats were cream colored and it smelled like new leather. Your eyes roamed, seeing Izuku sitting tense with his scarred hands placed in his lap. Maybe he was trying to avoid making you uncomfortable.. He really had been a gentleman.

You scooted closer to him, watching him quickly move his arm up top of the seat to give you room. You lean your head onto his chest lightly. “Where are we going?” You ask, looking at your freshly done nails. He wanted to leave it a surprise, looking down at you with a small chuckle.

“Nowhere too expensive,” He joked, letting his freckled hand slide to rub over your shoulder. You eased into his touch, smiling and looking down at the tight fit of his pants, rubbing a hand over his knee as well to make sure he was alright.

“That didn’t answer my question, Where we goin’?” You laughed, looking up at him to see he’s already looking down at you with the most lovey dovey face he possibly could. Still trying to soak in the sight of you.

“Don’t you wanna wait until we get there?” He faked a pout, holding back a grin creeping onto his face. You faked annoyance in return, huffing and scratching his knee a few times with your nails. “Fine, Fine.. I’ll wait.” You looked through the tinted windows, feeling your heels squish at the carpet on the floor of the limo. 

He looked at the mirror, seeing your pretty shaven legs and wanting to run his hands down them. Your skin was just so soft.. But he didn’t wanna be weird, sighing and looking away from your frame quickly. “You like steak? Or are you more of a sushi person?” Maybe he didn’t even know where you two were going, sliding his scarred hand down your arm lower than before.

“Steak is so good,” You laughed, trying to recall if you had even tried sushi. You think you have? You were up to try it again. You shrugged, “The sushi I don't mind trying, I’m probably just going to get something small.” You fumbled with your nails, picking at them slightly. Eating on first dates was always kinda weird. Especially when the person gets too scared to eat in front of you. Then you don’t wanna eat and it’s wasteful.. 

“You can buy everything in the place if you want. Don’t look at prices. I’m treating you, y/n.” He leaned down to your forehead, giving a small peck before he looked out the window again. You smiled wide as the feeling of the limo moving started to slow to a stop. The valet opened the door for the two of you, ducking his head down slightly and smiling. “Right this way,”

He bowed at the two of you, seeing the pro hero get out and turn to you. The place was lit with warm lights and music coming from the revolving door as people walked in with big flashy outfits and styled hair. You took Izuku’s hand, getting out and letting your heels clink against the top of the curb and onto the carpet leading to the entrance. He pulled you close, moving his hand to hold your waist. “Do you like it? I know we haven’t gone in yet but the lights on the outside look pretty cool, right?” The valet shut the door behind you two as you walked towards the door.

You were speechless, letting out a small but nervous laugh. “It sure is something.. It already looks too expensive.!” It wasn’t like you were poor, but it wasn’t like you were rich either. This place looked like the start off price was 200 a person for a damn drink! You kept yourself close to the hero as you both walked into the rotating door. The carpet from the walk-way turned to fancy tile that made a lovely click noise when you stepped onto it. The interior was more gold than anything with dark wood complementing the hostess stand and the pillars of the building. Gold designs littered the bar area, making it look more than pleasant. Looking to your left, there was the tallest fish-tank that you think you had ever seen. Still not as tall as the ceilings but it sure was tall enough. There had been lots of colorful fish, octopus, starfish.. Everything was in that damn tank. 

heres another link to part two if you don't wanna scroll up lol

[lemoncrushh]

Leather and Lace

Summary: The night Harry sang with Stevie at the Troubadour

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1440

A/N: This is a special little one shot written after that night in 2017. For those who don't know me, I've been a massive Stevie Nicks fan for many many years. Though I was not there at the Troubadour, I cried tears of joy when I found out about it. Then I wrote this. It's written in first person because it is so personal to me.

I'd been trying to hold it together for the last twenty minutes. The show was over, the crowd for the most part was dispersing and leaving the Troubadour, with a few clusters of fans here and there chatting. The music was still ringing in my ears, the feedback from the guitar now long gone yet still managing to vibrate and shake throughout my body. I stood frozen in my spot on the balcony where I'd sat next to James to watch Harry. The stage was now empty, the spotlights now making it seem more like a distant memory, or a time capsule from a completely different era - one that I'd seen in old magazines from decades ago.

I couldn't believe what I'd just witnessed. Harry had just sung with Stevie Nicks. Stevie fucking Nicks! To say I was a fan of hers would be an understatement. Stevie was my idol. My queen. The reason I'd wanted to be a musician since I was twelve.

I hadn't known she would be there. Harry hadn't told me. Whether it was because he wanted it to be a surprise, or because he was afraid I would freak out and be nervous for him, therefore making him all the more nervous, I didn't know. But maybe it was a little of both.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my back. I turned to see James who gave me a kind smile and patted my shoulder. He whispered in my ear that he was leaving and he would ring Harry later. I nodded and gave him a quick hug and said goodnight. Then I turned my gaze back to the stage below.

He'd done it. This was it. I couldn't even imagine it getting any better. He could sell out arenas and stadiums all over the world, win all the Grammys and stay at number one on Billboard for over a year and it still wouldn't compare to the emotions I'd felt watching him sing with Stevie.

I felt a tear start to trickle down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away when I heard my name behind me.

"There you are," said Glenne. "Harry's looking for you."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "He is?"

"Yeah, he wants you backstage."

Harry never asked for me to come backstage or to the dressing room, neither before or after a show. I would give him the space he needed to clear his head and get in the zone. Even when he was on Saturday Night Live, I'd just taken a seat like any other audience member and waited until he'd come out to find me, his face all flushed, his bag slung over his shoulder. For him to be asking for me now...after what had just happened...that meant something.

"Okay..." I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

I descended the staircase slowly, my knees shaking. Glenne hadn't bothered to follow me, which only confirmed that Harry had requested me and me only.

Jeff stood just inside the dressing room door when I entered. He nodded at me silently before walking around me and leaving me alone with Harry. He sat on a small leather loveseat that had seen better days and probably had more stories to tell than Keith Richards. When he saw me, he beamed. I immediately ran to him when he rose, throwing my arms around his middle. It didn't matter that he was sweaty. It didn't matter that the door behind me was wide open. All that mattered was that I couldn't be more proud of him than I was in that moment.

We rocked back and forth for a few minutes until I felt him kiss the top of my head and whisper.

"Sorry I didn't tell you. Kinda wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, you definitely achieved that."

Harry chuckled, his chest shaking against my cheek that pressed to it. "So, what'd you think?"

I licked my lips, trying to gather my thoughts. "I thought it was the most beautiful moment I've ever gotten to see and hear in my life."

"Yeah?"

I lifted my head to look at him. "Of course. My two favorite people. Singing together. What could be better than that?"

Harry smiled wider as he brushed a strand of hair away from my eyes. His eyes danced with glee, like a giddy child who'd just gone to Disneyland.

"How did it feel to you?" I asked him. "To be up there with her, singing her songs, her singing yours? That had to feel incredible."

For the first time since I'd entered the room, Harry's smile faltered a bit and he pressed his lips together.

"To be honest," he replied, "I was having a hard time keeping it together."

I nodded. "I know. I noticed. But I think that made it ever better. I loved seeing you getting choked up. Because I was getting choked up too."

Harry suddenly let go of me and backed away, digging his palms into his eyes. He sat on the couch again, his shoulders trembling as he released his emotions he'd no doubt been holding in up to that point. I silently sat beside him, my hand gently laid on his thigh, unmoving and waiting until he was ready for more contact. I watched him cry, the overwhelmingness finally hitting him. Finally with a shaky breath, he took hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. He tried to catch the tears before they fell unsuccessfully as I rubbed his back with my other hand.

"That was...pretty intense, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah..." he breathed, wiping his eye with the back of his hand.

"She's amazing."

"A legend," Harry added. "I can't believe...I can't believe that actually happened. It's like...a dream."

I smiled. "She seemed to really like you, too. She must think you're something special to do that with you. And she'd be right."

Harry turned to me then, giving me a small grin.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," I murmured, leaning my cheek against his shoulder. "I just...I just don't even have words for how I feel right now. You continue to blow my mind.

He squeezed my hand again before threading his fingers through and bringing it to his lips.

"Now, I'm gonna want a studio recording of Leather and Lace," I quipped.

Harry chuckled, and I was happy I'd lightened the mood.

"You might just have to settle for a live version on youtube, I'm afraid."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. Sometimes live recordings are better anyway. And there's no way you could really recapture that magic in a studio version."

"Harry, darling, I just wanted to say goodbye and wish you the best of luck."

I knew the voice before I even turned my head. There she stood in the doorway, my queen in all her five feet and one inch, minus the platform boots. My eyes widened and I'm pretty sure I gasped as Harry rose from the sofa again, my hand still in his.

"Thank you so much, Stevie," he choked, his voice raspier than usual.

The next few moments were a blur which seemed to happen in fast forward and slow motion simultaneously. Harry introduced me to Stevie, I shook her soft, tiny, hand with its long painted nails, and I think I might have told her I loved her, though I don't remember exactly. I do remember, however, that she hugged me and she smelled intoxicatingly beautiful, like a cross between jasmine, honeysuckle and Nag Champa incense. I also might've held on a little longer than I should have until she pulled away and smiled, then moving to hug Harry. If I had thought about it, I would have taken a photo, but the memory burned in my brain was enough.

I watched her walk away, giving one last wave, then I stared at her boots as she walked down the hall and hugged Sarah and Clare.

"I wonder which of us is the most starstruck," I heard behind me.

I smiled, turning around.

"Definitely you," I commented. "You got to sing with her. That's like...the ultimate."

"I dunno," he smirked. "You should see your face right now."

I slapped my hand to my mouth. "Oh my God!" I muffled my scream. "I just met Stevie Nicks!"

Harry smiled wider, holding out his arm to gesture for me.

"C'mere, love," he said.

I crashed into his chest again, wrapping my arms around him. Just like before, we rocked back and forth. Only this time, I was the one weeping.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[short-black-diamond]

please can you do bf headcanons for kaiser and sae and rin please (fem reader)

thxx

yeheeheheyyy

German vocab: "Schätzchen" = cute-ification of "treasure"

---

"That's my boyfriend!"

Kaiser:

Ayo how I hate that bitch

Please don't request stuff about him in the future

But him as a boyfriend?

I guess he'd be pretty chill, but he'd like to have you on his lap a lot

like, in that one chapter where he examined Isagi, he'd for sure have you on his lap, while trying to figure out what made Isagi so different

and he'd just--- stroke your thigh?

Idk I think he would do something like that

anf then hmmm...I think he's rich

not filthy rich like Reo, but pretty rich

I think he'd also spoil you? like--he'd sometimes buy you jewellery, but other than that, he would buy you other stuff, which is much more useful

like, one time he bought you a new tablet because yours got coffee on it

his coffee

soccer dates don't @ me

he'd try to teach you soccer if you didn't already know how, and if you did, he'd have you running after him as he always took the ball away right under your heel

It was funny, and you were happy to see your boyfriend laughing and giggling when he teicked you over and over again by dribbling the ball around you, before he gave you a small kiss to your cheek and scored a goal

"Jeez, you need to do better if you want the ball, Schätzchen."

You huffed. "I hope this wasn't an insult.."

"I'd never insult you, ____."

You guys would also go through Germany, with him showing you a lot of sights and taking pictures of you, then some selfies and would also buy you a cute souvenir.

he's a gentle lover, who gives you soft kisses and holds your hand softly

I think he'd also bring you to a viennesse ball, just to dance viennesse waltzer with you with an expensive, victorian dress he bought you as you two danced the waltz in old fashioned clothing in an old fashioned building with old fasioned people

bonus points if it was a masquerade ball

(imagine if he told you he'd meet you at the ball and mistake another girl with you, thinking that it was you, and you arriving to him dancing with another girl who had similar features as you...just imagine the heartbreak...the drama...I'd dance with Ness then, just to spite Kaiser...maybe I'll write a fic about that?)

Sae:

If you read my last post, I guessed -correctly- that Sae's an ass guy

Excpect your butt to be warm and squeezed at all times, babe

No but seriously I'm so proud of myself for being right about something I didn't know was already canon

*pats my own shoulder proudly*

He's busy

He has to train

but if you want to come with him, he won't stop you

When he was with the U-20, and he agreed for you to come with him, he hated it the moment you stepped foot in the room where he and his team was in

Imgine the bloodlust he felt when Oliver and Sendo touched you and flirted with you like there was no tomorrow (they didn't know that you were together with sae)

"I'm Sae's girlfriend..?", you then said and Sae hugged you from behind.

"Yes, I am her boyfriend, so take your filthy hands off of her.", he seethed.

Safe to say, the two didn't really listen as they just kept flirting with you, and they got to feel Sae's wrath on the field as he just kicked the ball into their face and crotch area

Other than that, I'd expect him to be very clingy

he looks touch-starved

give this man some love

After practise, he would always take a quick shower before cuddling with you on his bed and just take a small nap, letting you do whatever you want, but don't move your legs

he once turned you around on your stomach with force before he just---let his face fall onto your ass cheeks

you have no idea why he has an obession with your butt but oh well

Rin:

Another touch-starved baby

But he enjoys your company, speak, the first weeks of you dating him were silent, but he always had a small smile on his face

but let me tell you- he blushed madly when you held his pinky with yours

it was actually the first time you touched him

boy couldn't breathe

what have you done ____???

However, as the days went on, Rin initiated the touch more and more, and after a few months came the first kiss, with him kissing you softly, but his lip was trembling

And a rin with a beet red face came to view

I think he'd talk very quietly to you, I don't know why, but I just--do, you know?

Like he only wants you to hear what he has to say to you.

and you love it

also expect him to buy you stuff you don't really need?

I mean, he means it in a good way, but do you actually need an owl plushie in all its natural colors?

"Rin...why?"

"I-I like owls...! ...and, you're my girlfriend...so I wanted to give you something I like.", cue him looking at you sadly, but with innocent eyes.

yeah, you kissed him breathless after that little confession

also like-- I don't think any of the blue lockers have a dominant bone when they have an s/o at first, which means that the boys would also be shy

and I can just imagine Rin taking many tries before he actually asks to hold your hand, or takes nearly an hour more time from his busy schedule to buy you flowers you weren't allergic to, but which you also haven't received yet

he's the type who'd try to bake you cookies, and only have a small error, like either not enough sugar or cocoa, or idk what

---

Okay and that's it! I hope I nailed it, tell me if I didn't!

Read you guys in the next post!

[melodygatesauthor]

The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story

dbf!Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake -

Steven's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 9.4k (apparently I can't write anything short anymore)

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Marc since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his beer as if to say cheers. He still looked so rough around the edges, just how you always remembered him. You looked him up and down, trying not to make it seem too obvious.

Has he been working out?

“Congrats. College…wow.” He took a swig off his beer bottle, “all grown up.”

You gave him a nervous giggle, “yeah, I guess.” You felt inexplicably shy all of a sudden, you tried to make small talk, “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

He shrugged, “been keeping busy, staying out of trouble,” he gulped some of his beer down and then looked at you with those brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when the light hit them just right.

You felt your cheeks getting flush for what felt like, at the time, nothing worth getting flustered over. Marc was handsome, anyone could see that, but you’d never looked at him that way. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. Then again, he’d never looked at you like that. Were you imagining things? He seemed to be sneaking glances at different parts of your body. His eyes trekked over your neck, down to the crevice of your slightly low cut shirt, beyond your denim jeans and finally onto the floor which is when he rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Still fixing toilets?” You sipped your drink, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Yeah…well…sort of. I do all kinds of handyman stuff, not just toilets. I also do home inspections.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over to you.

You read the print and huffed out a laugh at the obvious pun.

Marc Spector

The Home In-Spector

“It’s dumb I know.” He rolled his eyes, taking another drink.

You raised an eyebrow, “I think it’s clever. Definitely memorable.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting the casual conversation. “Oh, I gotta go, see you around, Marc.”

“Yeah…you too.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Marc. You remembered the roaring laughter over a dumb joke that Marc made at your expense. You grumbled and gave him the finger. You weren’t actually upset, and had a hard time keeping yourself from bursting out into laughter as well. Marc flipped you off in return and smiled at you. Marc’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling you had was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol, that was the only explanation.

A little while later, you were tipsy and felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, no matter how hard you tried to keep them open.

They closed again, and when you opened them this time, it was only you and Marc left around the fire.

Closed again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sudden movement stirred you awake. You were being carried by a set of strong arms. Did your dad come back to get you? No. He would’ve woken you up so you could walk to bed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s shoulders and buried your face in his neck. Marc, you thought.

He smelled warm, like he’d been in the sun all day. Your lips brushed the soft skin there, and you felt a strong sense of comfort wash over you. Alcohol had a way of making you forget to filter your emotions, and right now you were hoping Marc would never let go. You didn’t know why you felt that way. None of it made sense. It’s not like he’d made any sort of pass at you during your growing up, and he had certainly been respectful all night.

So why did you feel like you wanted him to fill you up with everything he had?

It had to be the alcohol. You drank too much, and it was making you feel flirty, and foolish, like you didn’t care about the consequences of any bad decisions you might be inclined to make. Marc sat you down on your bed. You didn’t lay down yet, you just sat there, clutching his shirt so he couldn’t walk away. He grabbed your wrist and looked down at you through his own hooded and intoxicated gaze.

“Marc,” you said softly.

He knelt down, eyes level with yours, “what?”

You looked between his eyes. What did you want from him? Did you expect him to throw away a friendship that was older than you’d been on the planet so that you could fulfill this seemingly random and new feeling? If you would just let go of his damn shirt, he could leave and you would go to bed. It was so simple, but you felt an ache between your legs and a burning desire for him that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Don’t go, please.”

He gave you a gentle smirk, “I have to go to bed,” his smile almost killed you, “you gotta let go of my–”

“Take care of me first…don’t you know what you did to me?”

You were both breathing so heavily, and his eyes kept darting to your lips. You weren’t sure who dove in first, but you both started kissing each other hungrily, motions made sloppier from the alcoholic influence you were both under. Marc continued to claim every moan that left your mouth while you guided his hand down to the waist of your pants. He tucked his thick fingers in and felt between your soaking wet folds.

“Holy shit,” he commented in a breathy rasp, “did I really make you that fuckin’ wet? How long have you felt this way about me?”

“A long time,” you lied.

You always had found him attractive. Objectively speaking, Marc was a good looking man. Regarding wanting to let him take you on every surface in your childhood home? That feeling was brand new to you. Something between the drunken fogginess and the sweet way he carried you changed something in your DNA. You needed him…badly.

All too suddenly, Marc gained a conscience. He pulled his hand free from your pants, and backed away from you quickly. He looked you up and down, running a hand through his hair, eyes plagued with guilt. It was all too clear that this fantasy of yours was over. Whatever this moment was that the intoxication had afforded you, ended with some sense of clarity that tore through Marc.

“No, no.”

That was all he could say, not one word more before he left your room in haste. He didn’t need to say anything else. You knew deep down you were dumb for thinking Marc would actually do anything with you. You knew that was a one-time thing, and that he would want to go about as though it never happened. For your father’s sake, you would take an oath of silence, despite the feelings you were keeping buried deep.

----

The next morning at breakfast, Marc had flat out refused to make eye contact with you. Even when you asked him to pass the orange juice, he kept his head down when handing it to you over the turntable. You scowled when you took it from him, but took the bottle without added drama. Of course you understood that things were awkward, but if he kept treating you like you didn’t exist, that was even weirder. If he thought blatantly avoiding you in front of your dad wasn’t suspicious, he was sorely mistaken.

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to talk to Marc who, at that moment, was clenching his jaw and pretending to look at his phone. The man still used a Motorola flip phone. You couldn’t imagine there was anything very interesting on a phone without internet access, unless he was trying to avoid you deliberately.

“Marc, I’m not going to say anything to him or anyone, but you acting like this is more suspicious than if we fucked on the table in front of him so–”

“Can you please watch your mouth. Don’t say things like that.” He said in a harsh whisper, “I just don’t want to think about it, alright?” His thick Chicago accent always came out when he got irritated.

“I’m fine with that, I just mean…you’re not being very subtle. Just pretend nothing happened and treat me like I exist…please.”

When your dad came back downstairs, Marc seemed to make a better effort to act like he always did around you, and it worked. Even you had a couple moments where you almost forgot that there was something awkward between you two. You kept reminding yourself it was only a kiss, and it was only a kiss, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want so much more.

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Marc arrived. You didn’t know he was there, and nearly screamed when you heard him whistling downstairs as you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his truck with his company logo on the side. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was quickly replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. The only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel his lips on yours again.

After you changed into your shorts and a tanktop, you decided to make your way downstairs to see why he was there in the first place. Marc was laying under the sink, cabinet doors open on either side of him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed under the tight t-shirt he wore, and the dark trail of hair that disappeared under the waist of his pants on his exposed abdomen.

“Marc.” You said gently, as though hearing your voice any volume higher might send him into a rage.

He froze, letting out an exasperated sigh that split through the room. He clanked some of his tools and grunted as he sat up to look at you. He held a furrowed brow, daring you to say something about the night you shared two weeks ago; daring you to bring the memory of that deep shame back to the forefront of his mind. You found yourself having a hard time speaking all of a sudden.

“Look, your dad asked me to come by and fix a few things, just stay out of my way and–”

“M-my air conditioner isn’t working and I was hoping you could take a look at it.” You spat your words out so fast you weren’t sure if he would even be able to understand you.

There was, of course, nothing wrong with your air conditioner, but you wanted to get Marc in your room, alone again, if only for a second. He stood up, aggravation still apparent in his furrowed brow.

“Your ac is broken?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that your job? I just need you to look at it.”

He grabbed his toolbelt off the ground and followed you up the stairs with a look that told you he was unimpressed, and hardly believed that you needed him to actually fix something. When you got to your room, he went to the window where your perfectly functioning air conditioner sat, and you silently latched the door behind yourself. You felt it getting harder to breathe.

He turned the air conditioner on to test it, learning immediately that he’d been tricked into going up there. He turned slowly, brow furrowed in frustration. Despite his obvious aggravation, you noticed the quick shift of his eyes taking in your frame before looking back at your face. He crossed his arms tightly, scowling at you.

“The hell are you trying to pull huh?” His accent came out in his peeved tone. He walked up to you, but you stayed firmly in front of the door. “Move.”

You looked up at him, “Marc please, I can’t stop thinking about you since we kissed.”

He grabbed your shoulders roughly and you thought he might slot his lips over yours in a flurry of breathless kisses, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to scolding you as though you were a child, which only served to piss you off.

“It was a drunk mistake that never should’ve happened. I let it go, you should too,” his voice was low and harsh.

It was crushing to hear that he wasn’t even going to entertain the thought, though it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. Marc was always trying to do what he considered to be the right thing, and now was no different. You were his best friend’s daughter. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything with you. But when you looked over at his flexing biceps on either side of you, and felt the strength in the way his hands held onto your shoulders, you couldn’t help the way you wanted him.

“I can’t. I…I think about you almost every night.”

There was another cold silence, save for the hum of the air conditioner that was still working exceptionally well. You weren’t normally so forward, but it was true. Despite your attempts to not think about him since your encounter, you’d failed. Most nights since then were spent with your fingers two knuckles deep in your soaking wet cunt, thinking about all the ways you wanted Marc to take you under your father’s roof.

“You’re stupid you know that? Just stop, you’re my friend’s kid. He know you act like this? Huh?”

If his tone wasn’t evidence enough that he was through with the conversation, his actions were. Marc moved you aside by force and then made a quick escape from your house. He hadn’t even finished working on the sink downstairs. You wondered if Marc was going to tell your dad about your conversation that day, but when your dad got home that night, he never said a word about it. You tried to move on, despite the ache in your chest.

----

You wondered if Marc would ever come back to your house again, until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he was coming back to finish the sink. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about it. Your dad left, and you rushed around getting ready for Marc to show up. You knew he’d told you to back off, but thoughts of him continued to plague your mind and you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

What the hell am I gonna wear, you asked yourself.

It was foolish to think about what you were going to wear in a silly attempt at seducing your dad’s best friend. You couldn’t even begin to understand why you were attempting to seduce your dad’s best friend. It was obvious that he didn’t want you, he’d pushed you out of the way the other day. That didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to brush your lips over the soft skin of his throat again. It didn’t stop you from thinking about what his thick fingers would feel like stretching out your pussy while you dug your nails into his toned shoulders.

When he finally arrived, you waited to make sure he was working before you went downstairs. You were silent, knowing that alerting him to your presence might make him run off. You’d chosen to wear a short little skirt, a tank-top, and you opted out of your bra and panties. You needed to make it as easy as you could for him to take what he wanted from you. Despite the way he pushed you away, you knew he wanted you.

He was working hard, twisting a wrench around one of the pipes. His arm obstructed his view so he didn’t see you coming. Without a word, and without his knowing, you walked over to him, standing on either side of his thighs. He noticed you when you dropped to your knees, straddling him. He looked at you with that signatured furrowed brow.

“What the…you’re starting to be a real fuckin’ problem, you know that?” His voice was dark and threatening.

“Am I?” You asked in a coy tone, dragging your cunt over his crotch, feeling the brush of the denim against your clit.

He sat up fast, and you thought he might shove you off of him, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand grabbed your hip firmly. You gasped when his face got close to yours, eyes narrowed and wracked with guilt. His nose brushed against yours. You felt your hips involuntarily rock against the growing bulge behind his jeans.

“What’s it gonna take for you to let this go, huh?” He used one hand to push your skirt back while the other slid up your inner thigh. “What’s it gonna take for you to stop this shit?”

You put both of your hands on his shoulders for stability. His fingers found your folds and you felt your entire body surge with desire. Marc’s chest rumbled when he leaned in to steal your moans in a mess of deep kisses. His grasp on your thigh was so tight it left divots in your skin. He pulled you forward, sliding his middle finger deep into your channel.

“Fuck, I get you that worked up?” He said against your lips.

You hummed an affirmative into his mouth. He slid another finger in, and already you felt the delicious stretch of his thick digits testing your hole. It was a tight fit, two that is, and it felt better than you could’ve dreamed. If you’d known it was going to be like this, you might’ve been more persistent when he came up to your room the week before. He curved them, touching that sweet spot that made you whine in response.

“Where are all the boys your age? Why aren’t you going after them, hm? You like pissing me off?”

You didn’t want to answer him, because the truth was stupid. You didn’t care about the “boys your age”. Most of them wouldn’t know their way around a pussy if you had an arrow pointing to all the important parts for them. They also didn’t know you like Marc did. Marc was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to judge your prom date with a threatening glare if the guy ever tried to hurt you, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to properly use your pepper spray keychain.

He was there for you now when you were wet and dripping down his wrist while moaning one desperately hungry kiss after another over his lips. The third finger hurt a little, but the ache of the burn became more bearable the more he worked in and out of you. Marc brought his face to your throat, leaving soft kisses there that had your cunt fluttering over his thick fingers.

“M-Marc I’m…I’m so close I–”

“Sh, just shut up. Don’t want to hear it.”

You didn’t know if it was the guilt causing him to act so cruel, but it didn’t matter to you at that moment. You were there, seconds from sweet release, but the beep of a car door locking froze you both to your core. Marc pulled his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty. You stood fast and ran up the stairs quickly, leaving Marc down there to deal with your father. You felt bad, but knew he could handle it.

When you got to your room, you could hear them start talking downstairs.

“Hey Marc!” Your dad said as he walked in, “how’s it coming?”

You heard Marc huff out a laugh, “it’s not.”

----

It would be a lie to say you weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Marc coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. You wondered if he was excited too, or if he wished that he’d never met your dad now that things had become more complicated between the two of you. Complicated wasn’t even the right word for it, it wasn’t like this was something you did regularly. You hadn’t even seen him since he fingered you by the sink two weeks ago. He seemed to be limiting his time spent at your house those days.

You understood, you weren’t stupid, but at the same time it didn’t change how badly you wanted to see him again. In fact, most days, he was all you thought about. Something about him was intoxicating. Maybe it was the danger of getting caught? Or perhaps it was the thrill of something new? It could also be the fact that he was older, and you had a feeling he knew exactly how to make you come undone like no one ever had before.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He ran his hand over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. You felt your heart rate picking up.

“I’m just here to check in on you, I don’t want any funny business.” He said firmly.

You gulped, and nodded, “okay, yeah that’s…I understand.”

He dropped his hands to his pockets. You watched his entire body relax before your eyes. While you understood that he didn’t want to continue the little thing you two had going on, it didn’t change the fact that you still wanted him, badly. Marc’s face looked irritated, nothing new there, but there was a mild softness to his brow.

“Well, I’m just watching this dumb movie…do you wanna watch with me?” You gestured to the other side of the couch.

Marc sighed before nodding and walking over to sit as far from you as possible on the other side of the couch. You pressed play and sat in silence for some time. Just being in his presence was making your mind buzz. You couldn’t stop replaying him fingering you by the sink on repeat in your head. When you looked over at him, his eyes were trained on the television, not because he was interested, no, it was painfully clear that he was trying to avoid eye contact with you. You couldn’t sit there anymore. The ache between your legs was growing and if you didn’t go take care of it, you were going to do something to upset him.

“I have to use the bathroom, you don’t need to pause, I'll be right back.”

You went upstairs and closed the bathroom door behind yourself. You knew it would be suspicious if you spent too much time in there, but at the very least you needed to clean yourself up. You were soaked, so wet that you probably left a mark on the couch downstairs and you didn’t know what to do. What if he saw it? Surely he’d be upset if he thought you might be thinking about him again.

When you were finished wiping up, you opened the door. You were fully prepared to go down there and tell him to leave, but you didn’t make it that far. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, eyes looking you over like he might devour you.

“Marc I–”

He stole your next words when he slotted his lips over yours. Your mind went blank, focusing only on the way his tongue tasted when it entangled with yours. His hands grabbed your shoulders, sliding down until he found purchase on your hips. A soft moan slipped through your lips while you brought your hands to the waistband of his pants. You weren’t going to beat around the bush this time, you knew exactly what you wanted and you intended to take it. 

You brushed your fingers over his pubic hair, relishing the way it felt against your skin. Marc lifted you by your rear, and you were forced to grab his broad shoulders for stability. He carried you to your room and gently laid you down on the bed, never disconnecting his lips from yours. Marc started grinding his hips against you, the hard prod of his erection apparent through his jeans.

“This what you wanted from me?” He looked at you with a combination of anger, guilt, and lust, “think you can even handle it?”

You whined, “yes, I need it, please Marc.”

In a blur, you and Marc got your clothes off so your bare chests were against each other. His skin was deceptively soft. The feeling of his thick cock gliding over your inner thigh was maddening. You arched your back upward and brought your hands around the base of Marc’s neck. He used both of his hands to pin your wrists down above your head.

“You turned out to be such a fuckin’ brat you know that?” He was almost growling out his words.

“Guess you’ll have to put me in my place-OH SHIT!”

Marc thrust himself into you and buried his face in your neck. You weren’t quiet while he moved at an unforgiving pace. His lips dragged over your throat, leaving soft kisses in their wake. The juxtaposition of between his harsh fucking and tender kissing was making your mind go blank. Everything he did felt so good, better than you could’ve imagined. You still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Marc-feels so good fuck-yes!” You shouted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I bet it does honey, bet it feels really fucking good. You happy now? You glad you got me to fuck you? Hm?!”

Marc was taking his guilty conscience out on you. He picked his head up and looked down at you, grabbing your jaw tightly in his hand. You whimpered at his firm grip, but you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. His lips were pulled together in a thin line while he huffed in tandem with his thrusts. A few stray hairs fell down from their normally slicked back place and into his eyes. Fuck he’s so pretty.

“Yeah, I am,” you taunted, knowing it would only serve to piss him off even more. “Are you really going to act like-oh shit-like it doesn’t feel good? You make me so wet-fuck!”

He was slamming your bed against the wall with how hard he would pull back and then snap his hips forward into you. You were writhing underneath him from the sensations all over your body, but you couldn’t move your arms still. He went back to sucking on your neck, and you were surprised when his hands slid off of your wrists and moved to intertwine your fingers in his.

Marc was being intimate with you.

Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, he was starting to nuzzle his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent. His movements slowed to a more even pace, as though he were trying to savor every delicious movement, rather than fuck the guilt away. You turned your head to the side, meeting with Marc’s lusty and hooded gaze. Electricity sparked in your stomach at the sight of him.

“Marc–”

He started kissing you again, as though the sound of your voice was going to cause him harm if he had to hear you speak any longer. You wondered if it reminded him of who he was sleeping with. You didn’t care that he was your dad’s best friend anymore, you hadn’t for a while. Nothing had ever felt so good in every way. His hands squeezed around you tighter, and you heard him start moaning louder into you.

“Gonna fill your little pussy up baby, then we’ll see how mouthy you are.”

You couldn’t speak as your climax approached faster than you’d anticipated. All you could do was let your eyes roll back and your body melt into the bed. You felt your cunt squeezing around his thick cock as he filled you with his hot spend. Fuck he sounds so good. He was moaning deep rasps into your ear while he fucked his cum into you.

When his thrusts finally slowed and you were both a sated and panting mess, he pulled out of you. You mumbled about the towel on your dresser that he used to clean himself off and then toss to you. You wiped yourself up and then slowly stood, starting to change into your clothes.

“You can stay,” you said to Marc, hoping that he wasn’t going to just fuck you and leave, but you knew better.

Marc finished getting dressed and then he looked at you, brows furrowed and guilt etched into every pore on his face. You knew that he was going to say no, so when the words left his lips you weren’t surprised. That didn’t change the disappointment that you took with you downstairs while saying goodbye.

“We can’t do this again,” Marc said coldly in the doorway, “it’s done…alright?”

You nodded sullenly. He nodded in return and left. You were alone again.

You weren’t sure why it made you emotional to hear him say the words ‘it’s done…alright?’, but you felt a pit in your stomach. Was it because he’d been so intimate with you not ten minutes ago? Was it because he made you feel like no one else ever had? Perhaps it was a combination of both. Either way, you spent the evening finishing that terrible movie with your face buried in a box of tissues, just begging for sleep to take you away from your overwhelming feelings.

----

You didn’t see Marc again for three weeks. So much happened in three weeks and you were determined to act normal when you saw him again after that time had passed. When your dad had told you he was coming over for dinner, you froze. It had been a while since you and Marc had been in the same room, and even longer since you’d been in the same room together with your father present. The pit in your stomach was already forming.

Your phone buzzed on the counter and you picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. What were you holding out for anyway? For Marc to come in and sweep you off your feet? To tell your dad that he’d been sleeping with you and that you were going to be together now? Maybe if you both had a death wish, that would be a perfect plan.

When he walked into the house, burgundy shirt hugging his chest a little too tight for your sanity, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Marc.” You said softly as he made his way to the dining room.

“Hey.” He actually looked at you this time, as if he wasn’t going to burn alive by meeting your gaze.

The heat rose to your cheeks in a rush, making you feel lightheaded. You sat down at the table and both Marc and your father joined. The small talk was just what you needed; your dad asking Marc how business was going and Marc asking you about your job hunt. Marc was making a career out of drinking his wine. If anything was a sign of his nervousness it was that. You were glad that you weren’t the only one feeling the awkward weight in the air.

“So, why don’t you tell Marc about…you know,” your dad gave you a knowing look.

You shifted nervously, “um, well…” you looked into Marc’s dark brown eyes. His brow was knitted together tightly, “I’m going on a date tomorrow with a guy I met at the coffee shop up the road.”

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. It was quiet except for the ticking clock above the archway to the kitchen. Your silverware clanked on the plate while you poked the lettuce from your salad. You looked back up at Marc.

“You like this guy?” Marc finally asked, never taking his gaze off of you.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “only talked to him a couple of times.”

Marc paused before responding, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with.”

This conversation wasn’t about you and Joey.

“Yes…and someone who isn’t going to just take advantage of me,” you stabbed your fork into your food harshly.

“Oh definitely,” he sounded sarcastic, “and make sure you’re careful with what you wear and how you act, some guys your age might get the wrong idea about the kind of girl you are.”

Asshole.

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Marc were having right under his nose.

“So are you saying I dress like a slut?” You stared at him, waiting to see how he planned to answer that one.

“Alright now you’re just acting like a brat, I never said–”

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen and trying to end the awkward back and forth that you, admittedly, started.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Marc continued your eternal staredown that your dad seemed oblivious to. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Marc would’ve had enough of your attitude and never want to speak to you again.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Marc working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Marc twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him quizzically, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked.

Marc sat down next to you, leaning over so his face was close. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you felt him pulling you closer.

“You know exactly what I’m doing in here,” he said in a low whisper.

Of course you did. His lips were soft and tasting of liquor when he pressed them to yours. His tongue tasted even more like alcohol, but you didn’t mind. Whether it was the intoxication, or maybe he was just more comfortable with you now, his tongue felt soft while it melted against yours.

“So you have a date? Hm?” Marc looked at you, eyes dark and brow furrowed.

So that’s what this was about.

You nodded, “mhm.”

“He can’t do for you what I can do honey.” He dropped his hand from your cheek and rested it on your waist. He kissed your neck right by your ear and said, “I know just what you like.”

“I can go on a date with him…in public.” A breathy moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your skin more.

He stopped and looked at you again, “that’s not fair.”

“Nope it’s not.”

“I could take you out if–”

“But you can’t so–”

“-so, he can’t make you feel the way–”

“Maybe he can–”

“Shut the hell up.” Marc’s mouth covered yours, rendering you silent save for the moans escaping you.

He slid you forward so you were laying down and then pulled your covers off your body. That’s when he noticed that you were in nothing but a t-shirt and your underwear. His mouth closed over yours, and his hand trekked over your lower abdomen and tucked into the hem of your panties. You felt the pad of his thick middle finger brush against your clit. You could hear the wet sound it made when he started circling there.

“You’re such a little brat, you know that?” He was so breathless.

“I know,” you said just above a whisper. You arched your cunt toward him, chasing the feeling his fingers gave you .”You sound like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not, you can do whatever you want, not gonna stop you.”

“I want you, and you do keep stopping me.”

Marc sounded like an animal the way he grumbled and pulled your panties down to your ankles. You grabbed his pants and worked on getting them off, hearing his belt clank against the floor when he tossed them aside. You writhed under him, feeling the way his fat cock brushed your inner thigh. You could’ve cried it felt so fucking good to just have him touching you. Marc was right…that other guy would never be able to give you what he did. He could never make you feel the way Marc made you feel.

His erection was prodding at your hole, the leaking tip testing to make sure you were ready to take him. You grabbed his hip, pulling forward while arching into him, feeling it go in just a little further. You were feeling needy and impatient.

“Marc please,” you begged, “please.”

He dropped down to his elbows, resting on either side of your head and caging you in. You leaned up and kissed him. One of his large hands cupped your clothed breast as he thrusted full to the hilt inside of you. If not for his mouth covering yours, you would’ve screamed and awoken your father who was sleeping only two doors down in the hall. He pumped slowly, being careful not to make the bed creak.

“Better be quiet, keep your pretty little mouth shut honey.” Marc was whispering harshly while glaring down at you.

The head of his cock dragged against that spot deep inside that you could never quite reach on your own. You choked on the cries that your lungs tried to punch out of you. You wondered if this other guy would make you feel like your guts were being pushed aside every time he plunged his length deep inside of you. You wondered if he would make it hard for you to breathe every time his girth twitched in response to your fluttering walls. Mostly, you wondered if he would act like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen every time his eyes landed on yours.

A gasp fell from your lips.

“You trying to wake up daddy? Hm? Want him to hear his little girl getting railed out of her mind?”

“N-no it just…it feels so good,” you whined. 

“I know baby, oh yes I know,” his voice was low, “no one else can make you feel like I do, right?” His voice was rough and wrecked.

“No one…n-no one, Marc.” You were struggling to keep your voice down so he covered your mouth with a large hand.

“That’s my girl.”

My girl, you thought. He said you were his girl…you wondered if he meant those words or if it was the alcohol talking.

“I’m always going to know what you need. I’m always going to know how to make you cry and squirm and fucking-fuck-baby-squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight-shit.” He started moving faster, you heard the bed creaking and you began to panic.

“Mmmm!” You couldn’t get a word out.

You felt numb, and at some point his hand became slick over your lips with the drool that leaked out beyond your control. Your mind was gone, and all you could focus on was the pleasure rolling through you with every smooth glide of his cock through your channel. Your body trembled beneath him. Your knuckles ached from how hard you grabbed his hips.

“Are you going to be a good and quiet little girl for me when you come? Or are you going to embarrass yourself, hm?” Marc’s grunts were getting louder and you started to feel nervous. “Oh honey, you feel so good. Such a tight little pussy baby-f-fuck.”

You both came at the same time, bodies pressed into each other as tight as you could so you could feel it. You noticed the way his abdomen flexed against your tummy with every pleasured groan that escaped him. You noticed how his lips tightened along with his closed eyelids; you noticed the way his cock pulsated, stretching you out while filling you to the brim with his hot cum as your cunt clenched around him firmly.

God you just wished he could stay. You wished so badly that he could just lay there in your arms when he was done and the two of you could drift off to sleep together. There was hope though. He called you his girl. He would only say that if it meant…

“Marc,” you said finally as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Yeah?” He slid his underwear on over each leg.

“If you’re saying I’m your girl, does that mean we’re…you know?”

He looked at you with a raised brow, “what? Oh…no it’s…it’s not a thing.”

You couldn’t help the heartbreak that fell over you. You weren’t sure what you were honestly expecting. It was dumb to think anything else would’ve come from this. What were you thinking? That Marc really meant he was going to…what…go into your dad’s room and tell him that you were dating now? That he was just going to hold your hand in public and shout to the world that you two were seeing each other despite him being your dad’s best friend?

Of course not. Marc would never. The guilt would eat him alive more than it already had. You were stupid for even suggesting such a thing. He probably wished he’d never slept with you in the first place.

“Oh.”

He sighed and put his hand on the door handle.

“You have a date tomorrow, you should go on it and enjoy it.” He opened the door, letting the light from the hall pour into your bedroom. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“That’s it then? You’re done with this?”

“Never should’ve started this in the first place. Try to have fun. I’m sorry.”

The door closed, and you just felt empty inside. 

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Marc.

He pulled up to you, stopping fast by the sidewalk and getting out of the car. He ran over to you and immediately took off his jacket to put it around your bare arms, but not before muttering about how dumb it was for you to wear something so impractical in the first place. You pulled the coat closer to your body as he opened the passenger’s side door for you and you sat down inside.

You looked like a drowned rat as you observed yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. He was right, you were dumb, but not just for your clothing choices. You were dumb for thinking you could avoid him, for thinking you didn’t want him, and for thinking even for a second that you could possibly grow to love anyone besides him…but he didn’t love you. He’d made that abundantly clear.

The ride to your house was silent, awkwardly so. You felt a pang in your chest over the fact that Marc wasn’t talking. It meant, to you, that he was serious about his words the night before.

“Thanks,” you said as he pulled into the driveway.

He put the car in park and turned off the engine, “couldn’t leave you out there in the rain. Your dad woulda killed me.”

“You can come inside if you want. Dad has some extra beers in the fridge.” You opened your door.

“I probably shouldn’t I–”

You paused for a moment and then muttered, “fine.” You took off his coat and shoved it in his lap. “Goodnight, thanks again for the ride.”

You tried to wait until you got inside to start sobbing, feeling vulnerable and rejected, but you failed, feeling the tears coming down along with the rain. You never should’ve made all those moves on him over the course of the last couple months. It was all a huge mistake, and deep down you’d always known that, but now after your failed date, and Marc’s refusal to comfort you, you felt the weight of your stupidity on your shoulders. The rain drowned out his footsteps, so it shocked you when you turned to close the door and he was holding it open, pushing through to follow you inside. That’s when he noticed the fresh tears escaping you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, furrowing his brow, eyes darting rapidly between yours.

“No, Marc, no I’m not okay!” You walked to the living room and stood with your back to him. “Just go,” you said when you heard him coming in behind you.

“Why are you doing this? Huh?” He was raising his voice at you.

You flipped around and looked at him incredulously, “excuse me? Why am I doing this? You are just as guilty as I am! I am sick of you acting like the victim here.”

He stepped closer, “I know I kissed you that first night, alright? I know I shouldn’t have done that but everything else is on you.”

“Oh so I’m the one who made you walk into my bedroom last night? I’m pretty sure I went to bed and avoided you.” You prodded his heaving chest with your index finger, “you’re the one who came into my room to torture me last night.”

“Oh really? You call that torture?” He stepped closer, chest brushing against yours. “Didn’t sound like torture honey, sounded like you were having the time of your fuckin’ life! You know what’s torture? When your best friend’s kid acts like a goddamn tease and he’s expected to keep his hands to himself.”

“Oh poor YOU! Big strong guy getting seduced by a little girl? Fuck you Marc! You didn’t have to do anything and you know it!” You shoved him with your arms, but he stood like a brick wall, “get the hell out of my house.”

“That what you want? You want me to go?”

His face was close, nose brushing against yours. You were mad at him. You had half a mind to slap him and push him away again, but you didn’t. You stupidly kissed him, letting his body melt into yours. You were crying even harder now, and Marc stopped, pulling back to look at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t ever want you to go, I don’t know what to do but I don’t ever want to be without you.” You said finally, letting your feelings come out.

Marc nodded, breathing heavily while he scooped you up, holding you against him and walking you to the couch with his lips over yours. In under a minute he had his pants around his thighs, and your panties pulled aside so he could plunge his cock into your wet heat once more. You both let out a pleasured cry into the living room.

“Marc please,” you looked at him, not really sure what you were begging for, but you were begging. 

“Please what?” He rolled his hips forward, never taking his eyes off you, “say it honey.”

“Please don’t push me away again, I can’t take it.”

You had more tears trickling down your face. Marc brushed them away with his thumbs. He kissed you softly, moving his hips at a slow, sensual pace. He looked at you with a forlorn expression. He was filled with pain, guilt, and something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He grabbed your hip and started moving faster, pulling you in as he pushed forward. You’d never felt anything like it, the unseen but warm comfort that filled you with his words. You brought your lips to his again, tangling one hand in his hair while the other squeezed the meat of his behind.

His moans made your body feel soft and made you pliant for him. You would’ve given him even more of yourself if it were at all possible. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes boring into you while he continued his smooth glides deep into your cunt. You’d never felt so connected to anyone, you’d never felt so special to anyone.

“Are you ok?” He asked, moving to kiss your cheek.

“Y-yes, mm, yes. Better now.”

“There’s my girl.” He cooed, forcing your stomach to flutter.

“Oh, Marc.” You whined in his ear.

He hummed into your neck, brushing his lips there gently. You felt him thrusting harder, stuffing you and stretching you wider with every forward snap of his hips. His breath was punching out of his lungs right into your skin. You felt an overwhelming swell in your chest, a desire to hold onto him and never let go. You felt him getting harder as he moved. His breathing was heavy and rough against your neck.

“Gonna make you feel good all the time honey, always gonna fill you up,” he started moving faster. “It’s insane how-fuck-how good you feel.”

“Good enough to make a good boy misbehave?” Your giggle was followed by a sharp gasp when Marc nipped the skin on the side of your neck.

He started really fucking you, skipping over the part where he gradually ramped up his speed and moving straight into the skin slapping thrusts you craved. You could tell he was getting close, forcing you so roughly into the couch you thought you might become one with it.

“I think if anyone’s been misbehaving, it’s been you honey, couldn’t just let me be could you? Needed to feel me that bad? You’re always so wet. S-so fucking wet for me.”

“Always so hard for me,” you dug your nails into the flesh of his rear.

“Hear that?” He stopped, sliding back until his cock was about to fall out of you. As he pushed back into you, painstakingly slow, you heard the sound of his cock moving along your slick coated walls until he was flush against you again, “such a wet little girl.”

You were never going to last if he kept talking to you like that. Your pointless contest of who was harder or who was wetter ended with his display. He’d won, and that was fine with you. He was right anyway, you were soaking wet, slick coating your thighs and probably his too. You brought both hands to his cheeks and made him face you, lips pressing to yours while you both approached your climax.

“Are you gonna come for me? Make a mess all over your daddy’s couch?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes!” You kissed him deeper, feeding him your heavy groans while your orgasm overcame you.

You arched into him, feeling his mouth while he kissed through your pleasured cries. He huffed loudly while he came, holding you closely as his cock pulsated hot ropes into you. You felt like, when you were finished, your bodies let out an exhale of relief. All the emotions, feelings and physical desires pent up inside of you both were released with that one moment you shared. You’d come to an agreement, you were going to be together.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked, looking deep into Marc’s eyes while he grew soft inside of you.

He sighed heavily, “we’re going to have to find a way to tell your dad.”

No matter how tough things would be, you knew everything would work out now that you had Marc, and Marc had you.

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

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[poisonlove]

a macchiato, please | j.o

Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

"Tell me, y/n," Emma says with a small smile, looking at me with amusement, her eyes filled with curiosity. "When will you tell Jenna how you feel?" She innocently asks.

My eyes widen, and I almost choke on the water I was drinking, surprised by the unexpected question.

"What?" I manage to stammer incredulously, trying to recover and steer the conversation. "Come on... it's obvious," Emma confesses with a playful smile on her lips, making me suddenly feel exposed.

We were in Georgie's trailer, a cozy temporary nest with scattered blankets and pillows, filled with anticipation for our movie night. We were waiting for Jenna, who was running late.

"I don't know what to say," I murmur with blushing cheeks, looking down at the floor, unsure of how to proceed. "I'm just a simple girl who works in a coffee shop... I'm not on her level," I add with a hint of discouragement, reluctantly admitting the perceived difference in social status.

Emma wraps her arm around my neck, looking at me with concerned and affectionate eyes.

"It's okay, girls?" Georgie suddenly chimes in, entering the trailer with a tray of snacks and chips, looking at us with curiosity.

"Oh, yes, don't worry," Emma responds with a genuine smile, and Georgie, understandingly, goes back to the kitchen with supplies in hand.

"Anyway... sometimes it's better to follow your heart and be with someone you're attracted to rather than aiming for someone just for their social status," Emma sweetly babbles, smiling knowingly. "Think about it," she says quickly, leaving me to ponder those words before removing her arm and giving me a pat on the shoulder.

"Do the others from the cast not want to come?" I ask with curiosity, trying to change the subject and dispel the awkwardness.

"I've already asked, but they declined the offer," Georgie replies from the kitchen, with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "But I'm happy you're here," he confesses with a smile as he comes out of the kitchen and sets up several bowls of chips, candies, and drinks.

A knock on the door grabs our attention, making us turn abruptly towards the trailer's entrance.

"That should be Jenna," Georgie exclaims quickly. "I'll go," he adds, walking towards the door.

"Go ahead, I'm not moving from here," Emma replies from the couch, reassuring, and I burst into laughter, appreciating her carefree attitude.

My eyes curiously watch the interaction between Georgie and Jenna at the door.

"Hey... hello, girls," Jenna exclaims with enthusiasm, entering the trailer and heading in our direction, her hair still wet from a recent shower.

I sigh as I see her figure, trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart. Jenna was wearing a simple pink hoodie, Nike sweatpants, and I smile when I notice she's wearing my shoes.

Jenna approaches Emma and greets her with a quick hug while I observe everything from the floor, trying to hide my excitement. Jenna breaks the hug and moves gracefully, sitting on the floor next to me.

"Hey," Jenna murmurs softly, smiling sideways, her eyes shining with a kind light.

"Hello," I reply with a smile on my lips, trying to conceal the excitement that envelops me.

Jenna leans slightly, gracefully placing her lips on my cheek, giving me a long and touching kiss on it. The contact of her lips is like an electric spark, making my heart beat faster, and time seems to slow down, allowing me to savor every moment of that thrilling instant.

"Tell her," Emma says during a cough, making me blush at her words. "Did you say something, Emmy?" Jenna asks curiously, and the girl shakes her head with a small knowing smile.

"Alright, girls!" Georgie exclaims with enthusiasm, the only guy in the room. "What do we want to watch?" he asks excitedly.

"Didn't you say we were going to watch horror movies?" Emma asks absentmindedly, grabbing a handful of chips from the tray.

"Of course," Georgie rolls his eyes at the obviousness. "But what do you want to watch? Friday the 13th? The Babadook? Scream? I don't know, girls, decide."

"I want to watch Scream," Emma murmurs, looking at Jenna from the couch, "but I don't know if Jenna wants to," she says curiously.

"Oh... well... I don't mind," Jenna timidly confesses, "but I wanted to see the new horror movie from The House," she adds softly, resting her chin on her knees.

"Then we'll watch The House and Scream," Georgie says with a smile on his lips. "And you, y/n? What do you want to watch?" he asks curiously.

"Well... actually, in a few weeks, the latest Saw Enigma movie is coming out," I confess with a small smile, "but I don't think you want to watch nine movies," I admit with a small laugh.

Jenna puts her hand on mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"We said it, didn't we? A marathon," she says while looking at Emma and Georgie. "It's only 5:00 PM; we have the whole night," she adds, making her companions nod.

"So get comfortable!" Georgie exclaims excitedly, taking the remote control and walking in our direction to sit close to Emma on the couch. "If you scare me too much, I'll haunt you tomorrow," Emma says, taking a chocolate bar and a glass of Coca-Cola.

"Don't worry," Jenna mutters as she unwraps her snack. "At least mine isn't scary," she exclaims, raising the corner of her mouth.

Jenna takes a bite of her chocolate bar, and she looks at me with amused eyes. "Oh... mmmh..." she swallows. "Do you want some?" she asks as she chews on a piece of chocolate.

I nod, reaching out to take a piece of her chocolate bar, but Jenna moves my hand out of the way. "No, no," Jenna says with a smile on her lips. "Open your mouth," she says seriously.

I blush and move closer to her.

I open my mouth, trying to maintain a serious expression, and look at Jenna with anticipation, waiting for my piece of chocolate. The proximity between our faces is minimal, and I can see her delicate features clearly: the freckles that delicately dot her face, the long eyelashes framing her expressive eyes, and her full yet slender lips that seem to dance with their elegance. Jenna extends the bar toward me, not breaking eye contact, as if she wants to capture every expression on my face as I savor that small piece of chocolate. Her gaze is serious, but I see a glint of playful amusement in her eyes as she bites her lower lip.

"Don't count on me, Georgie," Emma intervenes. "The food is mine," she says with a jealous tone.

I smile shyly. "All right," Georgie mumbles offended. "Let's watch the movie," he adds quickly, pressing the play button to start the movie Scream.

The room was plunged into darkness, and the shadows seemed to creep in, adding an eerie layer to our movie night. The dimmed lights intensified the sense of anticipation, casting each face in an enigmatic glow.

As the movie started, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction as Jenna's image appeared on the screen. She had seamlessly slipped into the role of Tara Carpenter, and her presence was magnetic.

Her expressions and mannerisms were so convincing that it was impossible not to be captivated by her performance. With a knowing smile, I glanced in her direction, our eyes locking for a brief moment. Jenna's curiosity was evident in her gaze, and it stirred a warm feeling within me.

"What's up?" she whispers, and I lean in slightly to speak into her ear. "Nothing... just that you're amazing," I murmur with a small smile on my lips.

Jenna's cheeks colored slightly in response, a mixture of surprise and happiness. She turned her attention back to the movie but couldn't hide the subtle smile that graced her lips.

"Wow..." Emma whispers, impressed by the tension in the movie as Tara is repeatedly stabbed by Ghostface.

My eyes shift to the floor, noticing a slight movement beside me. I bite my lower lip, excited, as I see Jenna's pinky finger brushing against mine, giving me a quick touch. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips, and I reciprocate the gesture with tenderness.

Jenna smiles genuinely without taking her eyes off the movie, and slowly, she places her hand on top of mine, caressing it with her thumb. In response, I turn my hand and interlace my fingers with hers, feeling a comforting warmth that makes me smile even more.

The atmosphere in the room is charged with suspense, but that small contact between Jenna and me creates a moment of sweet intimacy, uniting our emotions and making the night even more special. The movie continues, but we get lost in that silent bond that grows stronger and more comforting than any fear suggested on the screen.

As the movies begin to play on the screen, I find myself sitting next to Jenna, and the warmth of her body next to mine makes me feel secure, as if everything is in its right place. Despite the initial excitement, I let myself be enveloped by the magic of the moment, knowing that the journey ahead will be faced together, with the support of the people we care about.

[riptideripley]

Chairs.

word count:611.

Rhea was furious. After making her grand return in the one place she hates, she immediately went to find Jey. Thankfully he stayed at the arena as soon as she had arrived to get ready, not wanting to miss her.

Her anger quickly passed as she spotted him in a corner, talking to Damian. He noticed her and smiled, opening his arms for her. She immediately walked over and embraced him, planting a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Looked good out there by the way” he spoke to her, eyeing her to take note of her outfit. She noticed and gave a small smile, playing with his soft curls in the back of his head.

Suddenly Seth had walked over, seeming to look for Damian himself. Once he spotted the trio he walked over, seeming to ignore Damian for the moment. “Welcome back Ripley. Ya know if I were you, I would’ve taken a chair to Dom’s back out there. Just saying he deserves it.” he told her, making her chuckle a bit to herself. “I was thinking about it.” she spoke as she smiled, giving him a small hug before returning to her spot on Jey’s lap.

Seth chuckled, turning his attention back to Damian. “So about this title match.. Look I have business to handle with Punk as you saw so do you want me to just-” he was cut off by Damian raising his hand. Rhea took a mental note of this but didn’t say anything, just silently sitting on Jey’s lap observing.

“It’s fine man, just handle whatever business you got. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.” Damian told him, a small smile forming across his lips. Seth smiled, seeming to adjust his waistband which Rhea noticed in an instant. Rhea decided to not saying anything until he walked away, looking at Damian with a smirk on her face.

Damian noticed and rolled his eyes, already knowing what she was going to say. “Rhea don’t e-” “Soo.. did you finally make a move?” Rhea asked, knowing exactly how Damian had been feeling about Seth these past couple months. Damian sighed, eying Jey who was enjoying every single moment with a smile on his face and his hands placed around Rhea’s waist.

“I..no yet Rhea.” Rhea immediately frowned, disappointed that Damian of all people was being shy.

“You weren’t this shy when you were at my birthday party and took it upon yourself to make out with Finn in my room.” Rhea decided to remind him, folding her arms across her chest. Damian felt his ears heat up at the thought, running a hand across his face. “Alright Alright well this is different than a fucking makeout session okay?” Damian told her defensively, earning a chuckle from Jey.

“Might wanna make a move before it’s too late uce. You see how quick I had to get this one.” Jey tells him, giving Rhea’s thigh a squeeze. Before Damian could even respond, Dominik had walked over. Rhea went quiet and stood up off Jey’s lap, grabbing his hand and walking off with him following behind like a puppy.

Dom sighed, shoving Damian in the chest. “You didn’t fucking tell me she was going to be here!” Damian chuckled at his words while Dom sat down on the crate next to him. “Well dude I told you actions have consequences. Look, I got some business to handle with Seth. Oh and Rhea was totally thinking about hitting you with a chair, you're lucky she didn’t.” Damian chuckled to himself, giving Dom a pat on the shoulder before walking away leaving Dom confused.

[johnnycakesswitch]

thought up hugging headcanons-

i feel like depending on pony’s mood and who he’s with, his hugs vary. if it’s someone he’s school friends with/he’s in a bad mood he’ll do a half hug with one arm. but if he’s really upset or it’s one of his brothers he kinda runs at them and buries his face in their chests. sometimes internal sounds calm him down so he prefers to do this with darry since darry and him have the height difference to do so and have easy heartbeat access. with soda he’ll bury his face in his shoulder

which leads me to soda! soda is a bear hugger-he’ll hug from behind, he’ll hug from the front, from the side, he’ll tackle you to the ground with a hug. he’s like a dog. you leave him for five minutes and when you come in the door he’s leaping on you so hard you fall down. his hugs are so warm because he radiates heat and he’s genuinely such a sweetie-he just feels so hard and his immediate reaction is to hug, which has gotten him into some trouble with people who don’t like physical contact, which he doesn’t get because he loves it, so why doesn’t everyone else?

darry is next-i’m torn on darry tbh! darry doesn’t strike me as the type to crave physical affection like soda, or even like pony-but if he really just needs a hug or someone asks him for one, he gives BONE CRUSHING hugs that crack your spine so hard you’d expect it to glow like a glow stick-he also lifts you into the air and just holds you to his chest or against his shoulder. it isn’t often hugs happen with him. but when they do, they’re nice if you like tight hugs-sometimes he doesn’t realize his own strength like he just expects everyone to be as strong as him so when he hears spines popping he’s like ‘wtf’

johnny’s hugs tend to either be short or painfully long depending on his mood. if he’s genuinely upset, all you have to do is open your arms. he’ll hesitate for a good minute, and sometimes he’ll deny the hug. but when he doesn’t, his hugs are so soft and sweet. it’s the one time he doesn’t mind being the smallest because he can burrow into your tummy or chest and he’s just content with that. sometimes though he’ll give a quick hug and then back up. this is usually after a fight with his parents tho. he kinda just craves some form of affection after. but you always need to initiate. catch him with a loaded gin in his mouth before he asks for a hug

dally doesn’t hug. ever. the closest he’ll come is an arm around the shoulder but this is really only with johnny or pony. sometimes he’ll press them to the side of his ribs in a small show of affection but only if they’re in private and if johnny specifically is going through something. dally never gives full hugs. but he’ll put a hand on johnny’s shoulder, or he’ll sling his arm around pony. little things like that. but it’s sweet nonetheless

two bit is the type to give back pats through hugs but it turns from back pats to full on slapping until whoever he’s hugging has bright red handprints all over their backs lmao-he also gives noogies after the hugs because he tends to hug out of affection more than when people actually need it. he’s another bear hugger. man has no boundaries. his hugs aren’t great but if he’s the only one around he wouldn’t be too bad of an option. he has the same reaction when someone is upset and he can’t take it serious.

steve is tough because i don’t know much about him but i feel like he’s just your average hugger. he kinda just rubs your back and puts his arms under your armpits. he’s another back patter but not as tough as two bit. he genuinely doesn’t have a good or bad hug. it’s just average. but he’ll always be the one to end the hug by saying he ‘doesn’t want to ruin his tuff reputation’

anyway, hope these are good!

STOP I ADORE THESE OMG 😭😭😭😭 they’re so real and in character and saying that Soda just feels so hard and his immediate reaction is to hug?? So true, he’s got so much emotion that he needs to let it out physically, he loves a good squeezy hug 🥺 these are just precious I really love them

[tainted-liquor]

'Deathiversary .../ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ ⸝⸝ft the Morales Twins

...✧˖°.

ingredients: salt and sugar!

TWs: unhinged siblings, grief, mentions of death, cussin n thas it!

A/N: it's implied that reader is dating 42Miles (Milo lol) n Miles is the younger twin by like 2 seconds

Several days had passed, and you had not been hearing much from your two favorite M&M's. It was unusual since they never missed an opportunity to bombard your phone with messages, and you couldn't fathom the thought of them ghosting you. You'd known them and been close friends since your first-grade year, and it didn't seem like them to suddenly stop talking to you. They wouldn't just stop talking to you randomly, right?

Right?

A pool of worry poured into your stomach. What if you had said something wrong or they got bored of you? It was natural for people to come and go in and out of each other's lives, but you just couldn't imagine a life without your little tribe of trouble. You decided to calm your nerves, sending a tiny text to Mama Rio asking if you could come over for the day and spend time with Miles and Milo. She gave you the green light in less than 30 seconds, eagerly reminding you that you didn't have to ask to come over. In fact, she said she could use a helping hand with her twins and getting them 'out of their shell'.

You gathered your things and made sure you looked presentable. You read Mama Rio's text over and over again, trying to understand what she meant by "get them out of their shell." It was normal for Milo to be shy or introverted, always hiding behind his mother during early playdates or clinging onto you by your waist. But Miles was different. He was always cheerful and eager to make friends with anyone willing to be nice. What's gotten them so worked up that they can't pick up their phone and shoot you a text?

You trekked down the street, taking your usual route to the Morales's household and plucking the spare key they kept for you under the mat. You unlocked the apartment door, slipping the key right back under the mat as discreetly as possible before quicking ascending the familiar staircase. The hallway was quiet as you gently pushed open the front door, taking off your shoes on the designated mat before greeting Mama Rio in the living room and pulling her into a tight hug. "Hii, Mama Morales!" You squealed, taking in her absolutely beautiful and welcoming energy from just one hug. Honestly, how could anyone be disliked by Mrs. Morales?

"Hola mi niñita! I'm so glad you're here, the boys haven't come out of their room all week. It's getting alarming..." she murmured, wincing with a small shrug and a kind smile. "Really? They're usually raiding my room" You shrugged with a small roll of your eyes. She giggled, giving you a playful swat to the shoulder before gesturing to the boys' room. You knocked on their door, waiting for one of them to give you vocal clearance to enter their space before the door swung open rather violently, coming face-to-chest with Milo, who was currently being leaned on by his younger brother Miles. To say they look tired was an understatement.

"Mamá, te dije que no puedo-...Oh. My bad" Milo muttered, lack of sleep and potential tear stains evident on his face. Miles perked up slightly, opening his eyes to get a good look at whoever was at his door. "Damn, y'all good?" You asked, instantly being ushered inside the room by Milo. He placed the ghost of a kiss on your forehead, pushing his brother off of his back before he flopped down on his black and blue bed and invited you to sit next to him with a pat of his hand. You sat down next to him, watching as Miles practically cuddled with his brother, which was odd considering they'd be at each other's throats by now for even being near the other.

Miles sighed, snatching the blanket right off his brother before he began to slowly mutter a couple of words you barely heard. "Tomorrow's our dad's death anniversary..." he whispered, looking down at the bedsheets to avoid eye contact with you at any cost. Your heart sank in your chest as you watched the two boys cling onto each other like they'd be ripped from their other half at any given moment. "I'm so sorry Miles, I wouldn't have come over if I knew that you were-" You began, instantly feeling like an intruder as the pair looked back at you with gloomy and watery eyes. "Nah. You're fine. In fact, stay with me...kinda wanted you here anyway" Milo mumbled as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your lower waist and leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I can't speak on your loss, cuz that ain't right. I can't tell you how to feel, but I do know that your dad loved you both. So so much. He wouldn't want you to rot in this room every year, he'd want y'all to spend time with your mom, y'know?" You soothed, tracing imaginary shapes across Milo's back while Miles laid down on your left thigh. "And your mom is worried about you. She wants her sons back" You reasoned as the pair instinctively winced at the mention of their mother's pain. You spent two hours comforting and reassuring the pair, listening as they both opened up about their sentiments regarding their dad. After what felt like only five minutes, the sky began to fade into a love-struck pink. Milo wasted no time in wrapping both of his arms around your waist to 'get comfortable'.

He yanked the blanket back from his other twin, draping it over the both of you with little regard for his brother. "Bro stop being a THIEF!" Miles semi-shouted as he tugged back on the blanket. "I have nothing to put on me! It's cold!" He argued as he attempted to pull the blanket back, heeding no results. "I got something you can put on that fat ass forehead. A KNOT." Milo threatened, eyes immediately narrowing at his counterpart. "Quit begging for scraps, you homeless! You got a blanket over there, fuck you want mine for!?" Milo snarled, wasting no time in using his free hand to hit Miles with a pillow.

"That's why your braids is fucked up" Miles muttered, earning a middle finger from Milo. You had no choice but to sit and watch as two completely identical people berated each other, going blow for blow about their appearances and builds after just grieving their loss. When they both finally calmed down, they went back to their great depression and reminisced about their late father. You held Milo as close as humanly possible, covering his face in tiny reassuring kisses as Miles rested his chin on your shoulder. They told you endless stories of their once-happy family.

"And he would take me and 'ilo to see the circus every time it came around...but I was always confused when they brought the monkeys out cuz I was always sitting next to Milo..." Miles mumbled, fighting back a smirk as Milo sat up and looked him dead in the face.

"You get one more before I rock your shit."

Taglist @ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @Fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x @moonpiies @we-loveebony

DC server (early access/reqs always open)

https://discord.gg/yeEpjds8sT

[velvetures]

Can we please have a cute gaz fic where they are pining on each other and everyone on base is naturally done with their shit ;))

Take It Easy

A/N: This isn't exactly... "spicy", because I used a trope that shot myself in the foot. Anyway, I hope you're happy with how this turned out. If not, let me know. I really love writing for Gaz, and I'd like to get more practice in and feel his character out to where it's more accurate. :) HE'S SO DAMN CUTE IN THIS PIC!!!

Summary: You've always had a thing for Gaz... and he's felt the same way. Everyone else knows it, but it takes a little shock for you both to figure it out.

T/W: injury description, some heat but no spice, suggestive content, Price being a mood-killer, not proofread.

Kyle Garrick is well known as a man of few words, but immense power of action. He’s typically not going to have a handful of words on any topic at one time, and if he does, it’s definitely worth listening. Getting his point across isn’t hard though. Between his very expressive face and the far more interesting use of his hands and touch. Gaz very often employs the use of pats, nudges, hugs, and the occasional slap to ensure you’re on the same page with him.

The problem is, that it made your crush on Kyle that much harder to cope with. You spent so much time around him that it was almost impossible to go more than a couple of hours without touching him in some way or another. By it his knee up against yours sitting on a couch, a hand holding to the back of your parachute before a jump, or putting an arm around your waist to yank you out of harm's way. Rationalizing that he did it for nothing other than practical purposes helped take the edge off. Yet a small crack in your heart deepened when you had to remind yourself that he probably didn’t mean anything by it.

From the first week you met him, Gaz instantly had you wrapped around his finger without even trying. Just seeing him smile at one of Soap’s jokes or hearing him laugh practically melted you down into your boots. Even in his less-than-sweet moments, that little voice in the back of your head and the pulse between your thighs got heavier when you saw him coming out of a mission; dirty as fuck and panting, a hardened look in his eyes and sweat dripping off his face. Perfection, in your opinion, fell short when describing Kyle. Unbeknownst to you, there were plenty of reasons for him to be just as nervous around you.

Smart, skilled, and downright sexy… it was a total package for Gaz, and he always felt like attempting to make a hint or ask you out on a date just to see what your reaction would be. Talking wasn’t his best skill though, and when he was around you there wasn’t a single thought in his head that didn’t revolve around a subtle scream of frustration that he couldn’t just get you alone for more than a couple minutes. He loved how affectionate you could be after working in the same footsteps as himself and the other guys. Plenty of reasons and experiences to leave you jaded or downright pissed off with the world. Managing to keep himself from falling into that same trap got a lot easier after you came around. And maybe it was self-serving, but Kyle liked the idea of keeping you for himself so he’d never have to feel that way ever again. Admittedly, he thought about it a lot. Being a lot more than just a partner.

Through a few mistakes on paperwork and simple logistics, you’d been asked to stay behind for a mission. The 141 had not been expecting the loss of a teammate, but you’d been very quick to reassure them that before you’d come along, they managed just fine and this time would be no different. Besides, it wasn’t supposed to be more than a capture and kill of three terrorist organization leaders causing a bit too much trouble and making everyone nervous. All the intel was vetted multiple times, and you’d even been able to sit in on the briefings up until the last minute before they left. So it was a shock when they came back dirty as hell, half of them covered in blood -not their own- and Kyle hardly able to walk on his own two feet with a massive hole in his t-shirt soaked thoroughly in blood -of his own. You couldn’t have been out of your seat any faster, pushing right past Cap and Soap, shouldering Ghost’s massive body out of your way and staring up at Kyle with wide eyes and a worried look.

“What the hell happened to you, Gaz?” Instantly your hand was pressed softly against the hole in his shirt, feeling thick bandages taped up around the area just left of his abs and below his chest.

“Jesus... you got fucking shot?”

Your mind was already spinning, trying to figure out why he wasn’t in the hospital or at least in the medical wing of HQ getting professionally looked at, instead of standing here like a used gun range target. Kyle watched you with a bit of surprise, looking over your head to see the others staring with wide grins and Ghost shaking his head disappointedly. There was no denying that they all knew how he felt about her, but this was a lot more attention than he was used to getting. Not that he didn’t enjoy it. He huffed a little, putting his hand over yours and taking as deep of a breath as he could manage with bruised ribs and internals.

“Nothing awful, small round,” He attempted to soothe you, but apparently hearing what kind of round wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Your face twisted in anger and hurt, and you looked up at him like a kicked little puppy. It made his heart clench, and not because of his injury.

“Easy… my vest stopped the majority, okay?”

With that, he pulled up the hem of his shirt just enough for you to see that there was minimal blood soaking into the gauze and padded patch over him. It made your cheeks heat up, seeing him quite like that right in front of you. But you tried to swallow down your nervous energy and nod. Kyle just smiled, pulling you just a little closer to him with an arm wrapped around your shoulders, burying his face in the crown of your head with a stiff sigh. You were always so damn sweet… worrying about everyone but yourself. But this felt a little different than normal. He didn’t know why, but that feeling alone possessed him to press a soft kiss to the top of your head, lingering there just to make sure you knew exactly what he was doing before pulling back.

“No more missions without me,” You say quietly, hand fisting in his shirt. “I mean it, Kyle.”

You saying his name was new too.

You hardly ever called him that, and when you did there was a damn good reason for it. He’d always found it endearing realizing that you saved his actual name for occasions when a nickname didn’t feel personal or affectionate enough. Although you didn’t have a call sign like the rest of them, he just murmured your name back into your hair, rubbing one hand over your head softly. Gaz understood that even though he’d not meant to, him coming in without warning of what happened actually scared you quite a bit, and it made him feel really guilty for not thinking that it could affect you any more than it did him. Fuck. He was still alive, and walking… There wasn’t much else to be worried about in the grand scheme of things. Yet feeling you cling to his shirt helped him come to see that it might not only be him who had feelings deeper than two regular operators might share.

“I promise, love.” He squeezed you affectionately; Both of you knowing damn well he’d told a lie just to ease your upset. Yet that was exactly what you needed, and Kyle couldn’t think of anything more he wanted to give you. Well… maybe a couple of things crossed his mind. But that could wait for later. At least until he could actually sit down and stand up without his whole torso burning. He kissed the top of your head again, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo and feeling a touch of dampness like you’d not been out of the shower very long ago. It settled in his mind and bones, helping take the edge off of a long day and the remnants of adrenaline still rushing through his blood.

“Hate to interrupt the party,” The Captain’s dry and somewhat flat tone reminded the both of you that you weren’t in a private room. And that everything had been said under Price and Soap’s watchful eyes. Ghost was long gone, already knowing damn well what was going to happen. He’d already seen it long before either of you quite recognized it, and didn’t feel like staying for the re-run. “But if you don’t mind… finish that shit somewhere else. I’d like to drink my whiskey without all the extra… affection. If you don’t mind.”

Gaz stiffened, and you couldn’t help but blush. It’d been nothing short of instinct, seeing him visibly the worst off of the squad. And now that you were sure he was going to be okay, it had made a lot of little questions in the shape of missing pieces suddenly snap right into place. Unfortunately, it appeared everyone but you and Kyle were already more than finished with the topic and were honestly just hoping you’d figure it out. Price definitely didn’t think it would take Garrick getting shot for you two to stop running circles around each other, but now that was taken care of. So he didn’t have to be so subtle anymore. And neither did Soap, who gave a deep whistle and wink before shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing down the hallways towards his own room.

“Come on,” Kyle nudged you gently. “Got a couple things I want to talk ya about.”

Walking sheepishly past Price, who’d already poured a few fingers of whiskey shot a somewhat dryly amused look in your direction before settling down in a chair with his feet propped up and a cigar pinched between two fingers. You expected Kyle to ease up a little once around the corner, but he was still hot on your heels with a hand lingering on your lower back, silently guiding you in the direction of his quarters. Patiently, he whispered the code to his door in your ear and waited for you to open it, holding it so he could go inside without having to put too much weight on his ribs or upper body.

He apparently, had different ideas though. The moment the door shut, you were up against it, and Kyle’s chest flush with yours.

“Question one,” His breath had gotten a little heavier, fanning against your mouth and a hand sliding down from your waist to the swell of your hip. “How long?” You couldn’t help the sensation of heat that wavered up through your body, knowing exactly what he wanted to know. It would be hard enough to lie and give a respectable answer, but telling the truth could be just as nerve-wracking to admit.

“Day Two,” You answered back quietly, looking up at him a little timid. “When you showed me around the base. Thought you were so damn hot… You were wearing that grey and white three-quarter-length t-shirt and jeans…” The image was fresh in your mind, and damn if you still didn’t get excited when he wore that same outfit. Gaz gave a breathy sigh of amusement, grunting a little when he leaned a little too hard against you.

“Fuck… wanted you since Somalia,” He panted, nose brushing against yours and his breathing getting a little more labored. “Couldn’t stand everyone staring at you walking down the street after the mission. Knew everything they were thinkin’… Cause I’d already thought it. Wanted to take you right then and there, show them you were mine.” His hand on your hip tightened, pulling you flush against him and the other arm putting a deep arch in your back. Needing every inch of your body against his despite the discomfort in his ribs rising. He tried lifting you, but quickly grunted lowly out of frustration, pausing your shared excitement as you held your hands against his sides protectively.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kyle…” You whisper, raising up on your toes to meet his height a little easier. “Let’s just take this slow… alright?”

You pressed your lips to his, smiling happily when he began trying to take over. Pushing, pulling, whining, and desperately wanting to handle you a bit more but is very restricted by his own injuries. It was hard balancing the desire you knew he had and keeping him from hurting himself even more than he already was. It was a tedious process, but one you utterly lavished in, and hoped would never end. He just felt like everything you’d dreamed of and more. Tasted like honey and brown sugar with a voice that got more whiney and soft with each kiss and gentle touch. You didn’t know how long you’d been wrapped up in his arms and exploring every inch of him you could when he finally pulled back with a raspy groan, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip with a rich chuckle and smile.

“M’not gonna be able to handle much more tonight, love,” He rolled from his uninjured side onto his back, pulling you along with him until tucked tightly against his side with your head resting on his shoulder. From this angle, you could see him staring up at the ceiling with a hardened, and somewhat embarrassed expression. No doubt upset that he couldn’t deliver at least a little bit more. But you couldn’t even begin to accept him pushing through any amount of pain for something that could wait even one more day. Carefully you rubbed your fingertips over his chest, tracing outlines of muscle and feeling little patches of hair on his chest and lower stomach. It felt like a fantasy, actually touching Kyle Garrick… You felt a little guilty for not paying more attention and limiting just how much you’d been physical. But for the most part, you’d been the more concerned with his pain tolerance while he just kept nonverbally complaining that everything he’d been wanting to do was being unfairly taken from him in a cruel stroke of bad timing and a lucky shot.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper, kissing his cheek and nuzzling the curve in his neck. “Should’ve stopped you sooner. I don’t want you hurting, Kyle. I care care about you too much.”

Kyle laughs, a little too hard for comfort, and holds his ribs with his free hand. “Love, you couldn’t have stopped me. I’ve waited too fucking long, and I don’t have much patience left. I just can’t even breathe hard… and nothing we could do wouldn’t make me… excited.”

Your cheeks went hot with embarrassment, hearing his voice lower at the thought. You hadn’t the slightest clue of exactly what he had in mind, but it was for sure that you wouldn’t be doing much of anything but getting your fill of Kyle Garrick anytime you could get your hands on him, and attempting to keep him from going back to the doctor again; having to explain how he re-injured himself. You giggled to yourself at the idea, and it caught his attention. His eyebrows raised in question and you bit your lip, trying to decide if it was worth telling him. You figured at this point, there was no use in not.

“I was just trying to imagine what you’d say if you needed to go back to the doctor… you know, if you hurt yourself with me.”

A devilish smirk plasters itself to his lips, and he shifts over just enough to have his lips brushing your ear. “You know I don’t talk much… I’ll let ‘em guess just what I was doing to you. I’m sure it’ll be more fun that way. Besides, you’ll have plenty of proof on you that I didn’t go easy.”

fuck i love gaz <3

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Wishful Thinking - dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter 1 - Texas Sun

no outbreak | dad’s best friend | mutual pining and lust

Pairing : dbf!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings : mdni 18+, pining, mutual longing, fingering, dirty talk, use of pet names, age gap (reader is 26, Joel is 48)

Word Count : 2k

Summary : A quick trip home to say hello for Easter leaves you breathless when Joel Miller makes his presence - and his needs - known.

Your dad throws his arms around you in an impossibly tight bear hug, and you grunt, rolling your eyes before lithley wrapping your arms around him in return. 

“You know, you saw me last month, dad.” You huff, rolling your eyes as you pull back. Your dad chortles in his very “dad” way, and shakes his head. 

“Too long, buddy. Too long.” He says, ruffling your hair like he used to do when you were a kid. You swat his hand away and laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“Are you gonna pester me all day, or can I come inside?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. Your dad grimaces, making his nose crinkle as he steps aside for you. 

“Jeeeez, grumpy.” He mutters, but you just laugh as you haul your duffel bag into the foyer. Your brother wasn’t coming home this holiday, so you figured why not? Don’t want the old man to get lonely. You set your duffel bag at the foot of the stairs, wandering into the living room as you slide your jacket off. 

“Hey, darlin’. Long time no see.” A gruff voice rings out, and when you look up, you freeze. It was Joel. You knew Joel, you’d known Joel for a long time. He was your dad’s closest friend, he had moved into your neighborhood the summer you turned 16. But this felt different. 

He had a blue flannel on, his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you. The sun filtering through the window hit his graying hair and you felt…breathless. You clear your throat and nod. 

“Yeah, hey, Joel.” You say quietly, offering a small, sweet smile. His eyes flicker and you look away just as your dad comes back into the room, handing Joel a beer. You roll your eyes and glance at the TV. Of course, spring training, baseball. You sit on the arm of your dad’s recliner, eyes trained on the tv for a moment, then you sigh and stand up. “‘M gonna put my things upstairs.” You mutter, hauling your large duffel bag onto your shoulder again. You had taken the train to your dad, and you felt gross. A shower would wash everything away, including the weird flutter in your stomach that you felt when Joel had looked at you earlier. 

Joel. Why had you reacted that way when you heard his voice? It was as if all your senses had stopped working as soon as you saw him. No, as soon as you heard him.

You drop your bag in your old bedroom, rifling through and picking out a pair of shorts and an oversized crewneck. You pad your way to the bathroom, turning on the water, making it as hot as you can stand it. 

But it’s no use. It doesn’t help. Anytime you close your eyes to wash your face or rinse your hair, you keep replaying the moment Joel called you darlin’. Not that he hadn’t called you that before, but something about it felt…different. When you step out of the shower, you pat yourself dry and run a comb through your wet hair, drying your body until you can pull on your shorts and sweatshirt. 

Picking up your discarded clothes from the floor, you shuffle back to your room and throw them in the closet. You hang the towel on the back of the door and stretch. While Joel is still on your mind, you feel admittedly more fresh-faced than when you arrived. 

The golden sun looks so enticing that you grab the latest book you had been devouring, deciding to head out to the enclosed back porch. Heading down the stairs, you stop briefly at the bottom, where your father and Joel continue to watch baseball. 

Taking a deep breath, you pass, heading through the kitchen to the enclosed back porch, heading for your favorite spot, the couch. Peach colored, pilling, and old, it was the coziest couch you’d ever sat on, and it was your favorite place to read. You sit, tucking your feet underneath you and cracking your book open. You bend the spine, smirking a bit at the look of horror your book-loving best friend, Dolores, had given you when you cracked the spine of the book. 

Humming contentedly, enjoying the Texas sunshine coming through the window, you get lost in your book. 

So much so, you almost don’t notice when Joel leans against the doorway. Almost. Dragging your eyes from the heavy boots, to the jeans that hug those absolutely delicious thighs, all the way to the patch of chest hair peeking out of the top of his blue flannel, and you feel your mouth go dry as you settle finally on those dark brown eyes. 

“Now what are you doin’ out here, all by your lonesome?” He asks, stepping all the way into the porch and shutting the door quietly behind him. 

You raise an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same.” You say, untucking your legs and swinging them to the floor. You watch Joel scan your legs and smirk a bit. 

“Your dad’s snorin’ like hell in there -” He says, rolling his eyes and eliciting a bubbling laugh from your lips, which earns you a smirk before he continues. “So I came to see what a pretty thing like you’s doin’ out here.” 

You stop, heat flushing your face, and if you had to admit it, your core, too. You press your thighs together, trying not to let on how much he’s affecting you. 

But he must know. He must know, because he advances even closer to you, and you swallow as he stops right in front of you, close enough for you to touch. 

“So. What are you doin’ out here?” He asks. 

“Reading. What’s it look like?” You reply back, holding your book up briefly. 

"Yeah?" He breathes, eyes shifting down to where your extra large sweatshirt brushes the top of your thighs. "Be a sweet girl and spread those pretty thighs for me." 

Your mouth goes dry, as he leans down, one arm on the cushion behind you and one on the armrest, caging you in. Heat pools to your core and your gaze becomes a bit bleary as you stutter “I…what?” 

“Now c’mon sugar, do I need to ask twice?” He whispers, gruff voice smooth as honey as he takes one, large calloused hand brush against your collarbone before running up the expanse of your neck, gripping your jaw and tilting your face up to meet his. 

God, you almost moan, with how incredibly aroused you are. You lean back, legs falling open without much thought. No thought about where you were, that Joel was your dad’s best friend, just pure longing for the man with his hand around your jaw. 

You see the smirk on his face and he brushes his lips against yours, muttering. “Sweet girl, you need to give me permission before I do anything.” 

Eyes fluttering you nod. “I..yes.” And then he’s on top of you, lips claiming yours greedily, nudging your legs gently back up onto the couch, settling himself to hover over you. 

You kiss back, hand instinctively finding purchase in his hair as you both breathe heavily through the carnal lust that’s driven you to this point. You feel his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, and you lift your ass to help him pull them down. 

Tilting your head back, you feel Joel kiss the column of your throat and you gasp a bit, letting out a little strangled moan. You had no idea just being kissed could light every sense you had on fire, making you feel like you were drowning in longing. 

Joel trails a large hand along your thigh, higher and higher until swiping across the wet spot on your panties. “Jesus, mama, so wet for me already?” He teases and you huff out a breath. 

“Did you come out here just to tease me? Because I can -”

“Easy.” He says softly. “Easy. Let me make you feel good. No more teasin’, sugar, I promise.” Joel runs two fingers lightly on the outside of your underwear, pulling a whimper from you that he easily swallows with another kiss. It’s slower, more sensual this time, like he was building you up for the next sense he’d plunge your body into. 

He carefully pulls your underwear to the side, using his thumb to stroke your puffy clit. You gasp a bit, smiling into the slow, sloppy, sensual clit. Joel hums, enjoying that your body was so responsive to him. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before dutifully entering your mouth, kisses slow and saccharine while he made you feel absolutely filthy elsewhere. 

“God, so fuckin’ wet -” He murmurs, fingers rubbing along the seal to your pussy, eyes lighting up with desire when you squirm underneath him. 

“Please -” You gasp. “Need you, I really need you inside me.” 

Joel smirks, and then one thick finger pushes inside you slowly, pumping. The soft, squishy sounds of your pussy around his finger has you in a haze, and your lips leave his, head falling back against the cushion behind you. 

“Eyes on me.” He growls, using his free hand to snake into your hair and pull your face to his. 

With half lidded eyes, you whimper, mouth falling open in a silent squeal when he adds a second thick digit, curling upwards in a ‘come hither’ motion against the spongy walls of your pussy. Biting your lip, you reach down and grasp at his wrist, but he doesn’t relent. Pulling his fingers out of you, he makes sure you're watching as he brings them to the flat of his tongue, licking them clean. 

Your pupils are blown wide, and when his fingers reenter you, you want to cry from how good it feels. You buck your hips, breathing heavily as you feel the tension in your core quiver, and Joel speeds up his ministrations, watching your face closely as your breath hitches. His thumb presses hard to your puffy clit, making you whimper, biting your lower lip so hard you think you draw blood. He rubs, hard, all while curling his fingers so perfectly. 

“That’s right, mama. Give it to me. Come all over my hand, huh?” He whispers, dragging his nose down your jaw, pressing soft kisses there. 

You can’t take it any more, your eyes flutter, your head falls back, and your thighs close, walls clenching around the thick digits of Joel Miller’s hand. 

Joel whispers sweet nothings in your ear as you come,  sweet girl, pretty baby, sugar, doin’ so good for me. 

As you shake and shudder from the orgasm he brought you to, you open your eyes to see those dark brown ones watching you. 

“Hey there, sweet girl. Welcome home.” He says, pressing one small, tender kiss to your lips. 

You blink. “H..hi.” You croak, a bit breathless as he slowly pulls your panties back aside, sliding your shorts back up. He backs up, using gentle hands to help you sit up again, placing your book in your lap. He stands up, adjusting himself and clearing his throat. Joel faces you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“Wait ‘til I get my hands on you next time.” And with that, he kisses your cheek and disappears back into the house. 

You sit there, breathless, aroused, and mildly confused. Next time? You lick your lips, head falling back onto the couch. Maybe this visit home would be worth it.

Opening your eyes, you shakily pick up your phone, immediately calling Dolores. You needed advice. "Lola?" You say immediately.

You needed more of Joel Miller. And that thrilled and terrified you.

[evilvvithin]

⋆ KÖNIG'S SFW ALPHABET ⋆

he's the best thing that ever happened to this world and this soft scrumbly cutie has me in unbeliavable chokehold he deserves so much more love and attention

(NSFW ver. / both on AO3)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Once you break his invisible walls and get him to open to you fully, he's extremely affectionate. He follows you everywhere making sure everyone knows he's with you and you're with him. He's touchy and I mean REALLY touchy. He will brush his hand onto yours all the time or rub your shoulders, pat your back or brush your hair slightly with his fingers.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) 

This man is shy, I repeat shy. He liked you the second he saw you but didn't have enough courage to talk to you so you took the lead. It took him a long time to open up, he doesn't trust easily as he doesn't want to get hurt. The second he knew he could trust you, he became the most talkative, funny and supportive friend you've ever had. You were surprised he was way more outgoing than you thought as long as he was with you or in a small circle or his close friends. He's overprotective too, it meant a lot for him to open up to you so he's not gonna let you go now.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddles, anything intimate and touchy with his loved one. He wouldn't cuddle in public much, it makes him feel awkward, but as soon as you two are alone you are getting squished in his bear hug.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

König would be all for it. He wants a warm safe place with someone he loves to call home. He enjoys anything that makes you happy or helps you, you'll find him cooking or cleaning many times when you get home. He can't cook that well, but he definitely tries his best.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Even though he's shy and unsure, when it comes to dealing with stuff like that he definitely straight goes in and tells you exactly what's happening and how he feels. He doesn't walk around the problem especially with someone he loves, he's a fair guy and wouldn't lie or pretend to you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It's hard to get him to open up to you and trust you, but once you do he's gonna be all yours and won't be against any commitment. In fact, he wants to get engaged soon to mark this wonderful person you are as his, fully. You did it, you won this gentle giant's heart and he'll happily commit and proudly show everyone.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

EXTREMELY gentle. He wouldn't curve a hair on your head. He’s overall really gentle towards everyone, but if he goes on some mission he turns into silent deadly force you don't want to mess with. Even if you piss him off somehow he won’t show it and it takes a lot to get him pissed off, but don't you dare say or do anything towards his lover, he’d show you his not gentle side more than soon.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

König loves hugs and physical contact, but only from people he knows and trusts. He’s not gonna randomly hug you in public with people around, but as soon as you’re alone he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind and rest his chin on your head. He loves the height difference and wants to protect you from everything.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It’ll take a lot of courage to say it, and even when he has the courage he’s still not sure if he should say it. He’s always doubting himself even when it’s clear you two love each other. When he finally says it the first time, don’t count on hearing it too often. Those words are too precious and mean too much to him to just throw them around all the time like something ordinary, but he makes sure you feel he loves you even without saying it out loud. He'll shower you with cute nicknames all the time though.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

König doesn’t get jealous easily and when he does, it’s more of an insecurity feeling rather than jealous. He fully trusts you so he doesn't mind you talking to other people, but once in a while he gets the inner voice doubting him and asking if he’s good enough for you. You need to give this man lots of love and attention.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He goes all in. Intense, long, romantic kisses. When you're out with friends or in public in general, he places small kisses on your forehead or top of your head there and there. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He feels comfortable around them, way more than adults. Kids don't make fun of his anxiety and don't taunt him, they also can't pretend and lie and he appreciates that. He's also one giant gentle baby in his heart, not gonna lie.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Lazy. Both of you curled up in bed, enjoying the comfort and warmth of each other. It's always you who gets up first and he follows, otherwise as long as you're in bed with him he stays.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He takes a LOT of space in bed and moves a lot around, from one side to another before he fully falls asleep. You're not cuddled up with him, he's hugging you like a plushie keeping you glued to his chest.

O = Open  (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say  everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He doesn't open easily and if he says anything about himself, he doesn't go into details. Eventually he opens up to you, but he needs to fully trust you and feel comfortable with you, he’s too scared of being failed by someone.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

If you want to make König angry, you gotta work for it real hard. He has a lot of patience and tolerance, which means it’s almost impossible to anger him but if you manage to do it, you should run. 

Q = Quizzes  (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little  detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s the type of man who remembers literally everything when you mention it just once. He’s obsessed with every little detail about you and everything connected to you and he never forgets the day you two met, nor every single day that came after that. Unfortunately he also remembers every bad thing that happened to him in past and he carries it with him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?)

There’s nothing he loves more than just sitting quietly with you, feeling loved and comfortable. He doesn’t care where it is. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He might be a gentle giant that wouldn’t hurt a fly, but when it comes to you he can turn into a beast within a second. No one is allowed to mess with you. He wouldn’t go straight for a fight or anything, but if the situation requires it he wouldn’t care.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

This man remembers everything and he always makes sure he has something ready, be it preparing a nice dinner or buying you a small gift. He doesn’t need to be reminded more than once to do something, he just remembers it and does it without procrastination. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Sometimes when he gets too nervous he bits his nails. You help him with this habit but it’s a long way to go yet.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He is insecure about himself and puts a lot of care in the way he looks. He always smells good, looks good but still can doubt himself if it’s enough. He easily overcomes his inner doubting voice thanks to you though.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He can do just fine all alone, he’s a loner but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be loved. He’d feel lost and empty without you as you filled him with confidence. If you two broke up, it’d take him a long time to recover but he would hide everything so on the outside no one could suspect a thing. He never forgets anything, so even if he recovered he’d still carry the memory and pain with him forever.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

König loves potatoes and schnitzel don’t even @ me

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He hates drinking. Of course he doesn't mind normal drinking, he occasionally gets a drink there and there, but he feels disgusted by people who gets black out drunk regularly.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He needs to be hugging something. Be it you or pillow or blanket.

[mrslankyman]

R U Mine?

Mike Schmidt x (fem) reader

-no fnaf in this timeline-

Shorter than usual sorry

The clouds outside suggested a thunder storm later on. There had been a lot of rain here lately anyways. I headed up the small walk way to Mikes home. Knocking ever so lightly.

Mike opened the door. His black hoodie and jeans on. His brown hair ruffled ever so slightly. “Hey come in.” His voice gave way that he was sleeping before I arrived.

I stepped inside and looked around as he closed the door. He was being quiet so I assume Abby was also asleep. Rain had that tempting sound to make anyone wanna fall asleep. Mike sure looked like he needed a good nap. Not in a bad way it’s just.. I always notice the bags under his eyes.

“You been doing okay?” He shot me a question as he walked to his couch to have a seat. I followed after and sat down beside him. A little too close this time. I felt our arms brush. I didn’t give much of a reaction just leaned away. But I could see the blush on Mikes face.

“Yeah I’ve been good. What about you?” I asked softly turning my head to him. He looked down at his lap before turning his head to meet my gaze. “I’ve been.. okay.” He answered as honestly as he could.

A small smile displayed on my face. I knew how hard he worked at this mall security job. How he tried his best to keep Abby. I was only the baby sitter but me and Mike had become friends. I would hope so at least. I’ve been watching Abby for about 6 months now.

“You know if you have a day off and just wanna sleep I can take Abby to my apartment. You need to sleep sometime Mike.” I patted his hand. I could feel him hesitate on wether to pull it away or not. Surprisingly he let it stay. Giving me a thankful look. His brown eyes were cloudy with stress, worry and other emotions.

“I’m here for you Mike. You don’t gotta be afraid to ask for help.” I whisper softly giving him a kind look. In turn seeing his face once again grow a darker shade of red. “Yeah.. thanks.” Was the only answer I got. I could see he was getting nervous. For what? I had no clue.

He leaned away from me and sighed. He didn’t move his hand though. Mine still sitting on top of his. He kept his there. Until Abby came out that’s when he moved it. That’s also when he said good bye. He was off to work. I just hoped he could drive safely in the rain.

——

It wasn’t unusual for Mike to call. He did it every once in a while. To say a shift of his has changed or that he needed you to come by early. Tonight was different. It was about 9 pm. Why is he calling?

I got up and answered my phone. Leaning against the wall and played with the coiled wire.

“Hello..?” I could hear Mikes disheveled voice on the other end. Was he crying?

“Hey Mike, everything okay?” Concern laced my voice.

“Umm.. no. Could you.. could you come over? Please..” he whispered. He must not want Abby to hear him. Which broke my heart more. How he tried to cover up his pain so his sister doesn’t see..

“Yeah I’ll be over in a few.” My answer was quick. I hung up the phone before he could say good bye. I put on my shoes and quickly rushed to my car. Driving the 5 minutes it took to get to Mikes house.

/

I make it to his house and slowly walk up to the front door. Before I could knock it swings open. Mike standing in-front of me. Sure enough. There were tears in his eyes. “Mike is everything okay?” I asked searching his face for any clues as to why he was like this. “Can you just.. come in?” He asked so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. I nodded and stepped inside. He closed the door and headed to the couch. Sitting down and letting his head lean back. I sat beside him. Closer this time. Our thighs touching, arms brushed against each other and shoulders close. He closed his eyes and softly cried.

For reasons unknown to me. He sobbed quietly. I slowly pulled him towards me. Saying it’s okay softly and pulling into a hug. He slowly accepted and wrapped his arms around me. His face landed in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears hit my skin.

“Why are you crying Mike?” I ask quietly as I rub his back in a circular motion. “I keep having those dreams..” He said between sobs. Those dreams about his brother. You knew of them. How he used nature noises to sleep. How every-time he’d dream of Garret he was unsuccessful in saving him.

“I’m never gonna find out who did this to him.. I’m a failure and a terrible brother..” he squeezed me tighter. I almost forgot how muscular he truly was. Till now.

“You’re not a failure Mike. I know you’re not a terrible brother. Abby thinks you’re great. What happened with Garret was not your fault.” I soothed him. Slowly running hand up. Grazing it through his brown hair. He let out a small sigh. Leaning his head back to look at me.

“Thank you..” he whispered and stared at me. Debating on something. Was he going to say something else? His eyes displayed a fight in his mind. Of what I had no clue again. He was so difficult to read.

“Wanna know something funny?” He asked finally in such a strangely serious way. I nodded in response. “When I’m at work. It’s the last place I wanna be. I think about coming home and seeing you. Playing with Abby. Having fun. Cooking dinner. How that’s all I want.” He stared at me. His eyes having a admiring look.. why?

“What do you mean Mike..?” I ask softly. When did he get so close to my face?

“I’ve been wanting to ask you this for ever now.. our glances. Our hand touching. Sitting too close on the couch… how you ask to come over on Saturdays to play with Abby and they end with us watching a movie together..” he went on. Pooling out his emotions. His face was red. The tears had dried up mostly. “You comfort me and you make me feel.. something. Something I’ve been afraid of feeling for someone else..” he leaned closer. So close I could feel his breath.

“Are you mine?” He asked so quietly. His voice filled with sadness, heartache, and fear. He was scared. Scared of my reply. Scared this would be the end of the road. Not only would he lose a friend, his sisters friend, his baby sitter, but also the only person who’s made him feel happiness in a long time.

“You got me Mike.” I whispered softly. His lips sealed my reply with a kiss. Surprisingly his lips were soft. I titled my head a little. His right hand slid up to cup my cheek. Pulling me closer. The kiss wasn’t like any I’ve had before. This was a hungry kiss. From someone who’s never had this feeling. The pull he had on me was something else. The kiss became more urgent as it went on.

Everytime we’d pull away to breathe he’d pull me right back in. His lips moving in sync with mine. Before I knew it I was on his lap. Making out with him and running my hands through his hair.

The worries of his dreams, rent, custody battle, and work left him. He was in the place he wanted to me. With the one girl he wanted to be with. He deserved these few minutes of pure bliss.

Our lips unconnected and we stared at each other. Eyes lingering.

“Are you just mine tonight..? Or are you mine?” He asked this question in such a way it sent butterflies to my stomach. He was doubting this was real. But his voice was so low and his eyes were needy. He needed my reply to be a yes.

“I’m yours.” My simple reply gave him all he needed to kiss me again.