#and I would need to go island hopping to get him
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violetcamryn · 2 days ago
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HTTYD HEADCANNONS
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character: Snotlout Jorgenson (live action version) x gender neutral!reader
warnings: fluff and smut related headcannons 😏
AN: first time writing anything smut related, pls be kind 💗 reblogs are much appreciated
- Snotlout is a major yearner. Even though he gives off a total cocky attitude, he’s secretly a hopeless romantic. You’ve even heard rumours from the twins that they saw him drawing pictures of you in his notebook late at night…
- He actually smells really good (like surprisingly good). He smells like musky cedarwood and campfire smoke, with a hint of salty ocean air
- He loves to braid your hair. This seems kind of obvious, given viking culture with braids, but he personally loves to do it as a pastime or when he’s feeling anxious about something & needs a distraction. He’s actually really good at it too (thanks to Astrid and Ruffnut teaching him over the years).
- He sneezes like a maniac. You know those “dad sneezes” where it sounds like a b0mb just went off? Yeah, those. He knows how much it startles you but he just can’t help it (you’ll usually see him with an apologetic smile on his face after letting one go while you’re around).
- He loves to spoil you. Random gifts will appear in your room, like hand carved wooden figures, or a bouquet of forest greens all tied up with a leather cord. He makes sure to pick the greenery that is aromatic & will make your room smell good.
*🔞 below*
- He’s totally a switch in bed. He likes to be dominant most times (partially because he thinks it makes him “a man”), but it would be a lie to say that he doesn’t like to be the bottom. He’ll spend half the time just looking up at you with those tired puppy-dog eyes and it’s like you’re in heaven.
- He’s very vocal in bed once he gets comfortable. Like I’m talking deep breathing, borderline whiny noises in bed. It takes a few times for him to get comfortable enough being very vocal, but now that he’s used to it he does NOT hold back.
- As often as he can, he loves to bring you to his little secret hideout on the island so you can spend some alone time together (😏). It’s honestly the only place on the island that is guaranteed nobody will walk in on you two while you’re getting it on (that’s happened one too many times in the village).
- He is the master of aftercare. He’ll run you a hot shower, and then hop in with you and massage your back and shoulders while you wash off. He knows how much you love it, but he loves it too, because he cherishes any chance he gets to just look at you and appreciate how attractive you are.
- His favourite body part of yours (other than your face) is your thighs. Any chance he gets to rest his head in your lap, he will take it. He doesn’t ever do this around the others, because he’s too afraid of seeming “weak” (although I think the yearning is what makes a man A MAN), but when you two are alone it is quite literally one of his favourite places to be.
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Hope you enjoyed reading! I’m just starting to write again so obviously this isn’t my best work but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 💗
PS. live action Snotlout is just…yum. Need to see more writing for him soon because there is simply not enough out there yet.
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szynkaaa · 10 months ago
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funny story, back in 2020 I was playing Animal Crossing New Horizon (like everyone else around the time), and made this post on my twitter:
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I was really surprised at that time they didn't have a villager based off the Monkey King yet
AND THEN FAST FORWARD TO SEVENTEEN MONTHS LATER NINTENDO ANNOUNCES THIS BRAT
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moral of the story, bribery does work. ten dollar well spent.
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deepspace-scenarios · 1 month ago
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[scenario/drabble] Fly away (with you)
How LIs would react if he wants a romantic getaway with you, but he misreads your hesitation as disinterest and withdraw the offer. You reassure them and clear up the misunderstanding and it's cute <3 Genre: Fluff + (veery mild) hurt/comfort
SYLUS
The air seems to hold its breath around you, the remnants of his question fading into a busy silence filled with your unspoken thoughts.
While Onychinus isn't exactly in peril, you know enough to tell the stakes have shifted, and Sylus has been working more than usual to eliminate any issues before they become a proper threat.
Sylus leans back in his chair, gaze sharp. “Forget I mentioned it. Clearly, you have priorities."
You grab his wrist before he can stand. You can't let him dismiss the thought of travelling just yet. “Sylus- it’s not that. I just know the N109 Zone’s unstable right now. If you leave, your enemies might-"
His scoffs, flipping the grip so that he's the one cuffing your wrist instead. “Oh, kitten. You think I’d let vermin ruin our time?"
He pulls you onto his lap in one languid motion. “But since you’re so concerned… I’ll burn their nests to the ground before we go."
“Sylus, you don't have to-”
He hums, gaze steady as he presses a finger to your lips. “Now, let's decide on a destination.���
___
XAVIER 
You contemplate the idea. An early-morning flight, disrupted circadian rhythms, only three full days before you fly back again to start work the next morning.
As the seconds tick by, Xavier’s smile fades. 
“You’re right. It was impulsive."
You scoot closer to him on the sofa and cup his face. “Xavier, I want to go. But think of the logistics of cramming an international trip into four days. A plane ride? Time zones? I don’t want you exhausted."
He blinks, then melts into the touch. 
“You… worry for me."His thumb traces the curve of your cheek.
“I do," you say. Then you decide to tease him. “If I have a sleepyhead Xavier dozing off at the airport, how can I carry a big luggage alone?”
He scrunches his nose at the thought, then places his hands over yours and moves them to his chest, holding it close to him.
“Then let’s go somewhere closer. A place where the stars are bright, where we can unwind. Just the two of us."
 ___ 
ZAYNE
You hover opposite him, thinking about his gruelling roster over the past week, while he reads through some documents in preparation for a surgery the next morning.
With his upcoming schedule as well, a vacation would only drain him more over the long weekend. 
Zayne adjusts his glasses, his voice even. “Withdrawn. The odds of compatible availability were low anyway."
You recognise the tone- he uses it to mask any emotion, delivering speech devoid of any subjectiveness. The same tone he uses when delivering bad news to patients.
But you know better. He's not Dr. Zayne right now, he's just... Zayne. At home, in cosy cotton loungewear. Clinical stoicism will not stand- at least, not on your watch.
You step into his space, sitting down and threading an arm between the sofa and his back as you lean into him. 
“Zayne. You’ve pulled four overtime shifts this week That's nearly twenty extra hours of work. A vacation isn’t rest if you’re jet-lagged."
He makes a small contemplative hum, his hazel eyes softening as he looks at you. “…You tracked my shifts?"
You poke his chest. “If it isn't me, who else?"
He exhales, almost a laugh. “Fine. A staycation, then. Let me know if you need assistance with planning."
 ___ 
RAFAYEL 
You look at all the documents and drafts Thomas left in Rafayel's studio, all of which he has pushed to the corner of a work desk.
Now he asks you to go on an island-hopping trip to see all the art installations spanning more than five coastal exhibition sites?
Not a chance.
Rafayel flops onto the couch. “Wow. Rejected by my own muse."
You toss a cushion at him. “You have so many events happening soon! What if you get tired? Or catch a cold traveling? Then who's gonna have to listen to you complain about your dark circles and headaches? Do you expect your bodyguard to be a makeup artist and a nurse?"
He sits up, eyes gleaming. “Ohhh, you do care!"
Grinning, he tackles you into a hug “Don’t worry, Miss Bodyguard- I’ll charm the germs away! And if I do get sick…"
He looks at you with puppy-dog eyes. “You’ll take care of me, right?"
You sigh, letting him drag you to the table to show you a website of the hotel he wants to stay at. He peppers your face with kisses with each tab he shows you- and you know he's already won.
 ___ 
CALEB 
Is it really a good idea? The thought of Caleb going for another Deepspace Tunnel mission- the ones you dread the most- and then a flight the same night once he returns, close to midnight, just doesn't sound like a rest-and-recharge situation.
You stand with your hands on your hips, and purse your lips in thought. 
Caleb's gaze lingers on your lips, but he catches himself as he notices the silence stretch on. “Sorry- stupid idea. We don’t have to-"
Your gaze snaps back onto him. Oh, crap. He misunderstood.
You squeeze his hand, and hold back from the urge to just hug the living daylights out of this man. “Caleb. Your mission could run long. I just… don’t want us to get disappointed if plans change."
His jaw tightens, his purple eyes blazing. “Then I’ll finish the mission early."
“And if anything tries to stop me…" He kisses your knuckles. “I won't allow that to happen. I promise."
“Caleb," you murmur, “Just make it back safely. It's all I need, vacation or not,”
“Anything for you, pipsqueak,”
And with the kiss he presses to your lips, you know he means it with every fibre of his being.
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hybbart · 6 months ago
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Day 2655: As winter trucks on, everyone hauls up as the snow piles up in the city below...
Short story below the cut
Snow accumulated along the penthouse's enormous balconies, and the many large windows. Beyond was a landscape whited out by the frosty blanket, difficult to discern the shapes of any of the distant buildings through the heavy weather.
Tango's arm quietly ached. These days he could almost ignore it. Jimmy would chastise him if he knew, say it was not healthy, but what was there to do about it? hypocrite that he was, the avian had his own issues, even if it normally was not painful. They'd spent all morning pretending like Tango couldn't hear his unnaturally deep breaths, or that he'd turned his machine up higher. It was already high compared to before they'd been separated.
Today, though, was an okay day for Tango. He could almost ignore it. His prosthetic couldn't, but it was far too cold for it anyways. There was little to do while hauled up, he'd taken to hardly wearing it the past two weeks as the cold settled in. If not for their few chores and Jimmy's returning energy they'd both be hauled up in their room still.
But they still needed to clean and they still needed to eat. So, while he waited for False to return from taking care of the animals for them and the signal from Wels that his brother was still safely locked up, he cleaned. Plucked the dead leaves from the plants, moved muddy clothing to the laundry room, put away the last game they'd played, anything he saw that he could do.
Humming echoed from the hall, riding the same breeze that wafted a lovely smell of spices and meat. The last of a deer False had found. It was easy to mindlessly work with the smells and sounds of Jimmy cooking nearby. Or maybe it was just easier because he knew there was something tasty waiting at the end of it all. His thoughts were quick to get lost imagining the various dishes, unwilling to risk a fork getting thrown at him for interrupting to ask. It couldn't hurt, though, to take a peak..?
The room dimmed as great ruddy wings blocked the whiteout. False's terrifyingly sharp talons seemed like they might crush the railing beneath them, and Tango was silently glad Jimmy's were that of a songbird and not a raptor like their new companions. It wasn't as graceful as Wels' or Grian's landings either, the woman lurching slightly before hopping down to the ground. A few months ago Tango might not have noticed, but he'd seen the three avians come and go so often from that window he couldn't help notice the differences.
"All the chickens are accounted for, and your horse is fed." She announced, giving a salute with her smile that Tango returned.
"Thanks again for this." He said for the fourth time that day. "Jimmy can't even get himself off the ground this week, never mind carrying-"
"I told you it's fine." False waved him off as she slipped off her cap. even just the short flight from ground level to the 40th some-odd floor had it coated in a heavy blanket of snow.
Tango opened his mouth to protest but a yelp escaped instead, accompanied by clattering metal and plastic. It took them both a moment to realize it hadn't been him at all. Both spun towards the hall, a squeaky curse echoing. Tango was the first to rush forward.
Jimmy was leaned over the counter, head in one hand and the other limply stretched over the kitchen island where his leftovers bucket had spilled over the edge. His breaths came heavy and quick, much worse than earlier. Feathered ears twitched, well aware of his new company but unable to pick himself back up to say anything. At least until Tango had his arm around him. Then, he found the ability to give a weak protest, easily ignored as Tango guided him towards the bench-chest on the far wall.
Tango only glanced to False for a second, to check she had followed, "Go turn up the airificator." He directed.
"I'm fine." Jimmy wheezed. It was as though he'd just ran several miles, his hand clutched to his chest to catch a breath of air that would not come to him. "I just got a bit dizzy and dropped my knife."
"Is that all." Tango muttered, running his hands down Jimmy's tubes looking for any knots or breaks. A wing smacked his head until he backed away.
Jimmy huffed, though it wasn't entirely clear if it was frustration or his inability to breathe. "Just give me a minute! It's already high enough. I don't need to get used to it being even higher."
It was pure stubbornness. And if Tango was honest, he wasn't sure what to do with it. Normally it was himself being stubborn about his arm and Jimmy knocking sense into him. Jimmy could be as stubborn as a mule, but it'd never been directed at his health.
Sheepishly, False appeared around the corner. "I turned it up, there's not much room for higher, though."
"See?" Jimmy said pointedly. It was true, that it wasn't good for Jimmy to have it so high for extended time. But if that's what his body needed right now, then what could they do? Suffer and almost drop a knife on himself, apparently. Tango's brows knit together.
"You go lay down, I'll finish the cooking."
Jimmy balked. "You have one hand!"
"That's one more than you right now." He knelt down, allowing the hunched avian to look down on him. "It's not going to get better if you push yourself."
There was a look in his rancher's eyes, one that quickly shifted between several emotions until they were almost glassy, before he dropped his head, his grown out hair curtaining his face out of view. Tango sat there, running his hand up and down Jimmy's arm, until a weak voice escaped between gasps, "What if it doesn't?"
If it didn't? There wasn't much to be done if it didn't. They'd live with it like they did every time things became incrementally worse, and a bad day became a regular day. But if this was a regular day, what would be a bad day? Tango couldn't bring to let himself think about the thought that seemed to be consuming Jimmy at that moment. Not while Revy was still in the back of his mind. So, instead he says, "It will."
There was nothing in Jimmy's expression that conveyed any faith in those words.
"You need to let yourself rest." False interjected, hesitant to step forward when both men's eyes turned to her. She fiddled with the tube in her gloves, still having yet to even remove her coat. "Your lungs, if they're straining you need to let them rest for now, build up strength."
"For how long?" Muttered Jimmy, expression resigned. He'd already spent weeks in bed.
False wasn't one for complicated answers. "As long as it takes. You've been straining them for months, it'll take a while. And there's no better time to do it while we're all cooped up in here anyways."
"But it's just cooking. If I can't even do that-"
"Singing while running back and forth and wielding heavy utensils and pots? Your muscles aren't exactly in great shape either after that, it's probably taking it out of your entire body. And there's a difference between exercise and straining yourself."
She pushed he hand to her chest, "If you rest now I can help you with your breathing."
Both ranchers blinked in shock. "What?" Tango asked.
She ignored them at first, taking her time to pull off her scarf and coat, hanging both up on the back of a chair. Hands went to her clothed ribs, and she took a deep breath as her wings flexed. They stuttered, that same oddity Tango had noticed in her movement. "Look, you've met my sister, right? H?"
"Yeah..."
"Then you must have noticed she has a few less limbs." False nodded, fluttering her wings. "She's basic."
"That's a bit rude." Tango couldn't help joke, earning a shoulder bump from Jimmy to quiet down.
She groaned, and then threw her arms out, "I was born from an alteration of her genetics, I wasn't naturally an avian."
That made sense to Tango, knowing what they could do to Doc when he was already alive. It quickly cascaded, other pieces of the puzzle clicking into place.
"I had to learn things you already know, and make up for things that didn't quite take. This included an obnoxious amount of physical therapy, especially dedicated to lung capacity." She put her hands on her hips, taking in a deep breath as if it were an example of her newfound capabilities before releasing. "I don't exactly know all the doctor-y mumbo jumbo behind how it all works, and we don't have all the big fancy equipment, but I know what helped me and what will probably help you some."
"False..." Jimmy sounded torn, and Tango couldn't blame him. It was hard to have any hope after living with his lung damage for seven years, steadily watching it get worse and worse. Their conditions had been very different, but was there really something False could offer that Scar hadn't already offered them in the past? How much was there that she could realistically do? At some point there had to be nothing at all. But it was tempting, even if just to get back to what it had been before, or at the very least prevent it from getting worse. There wasn't much farther it could fall, after all, any lifeline looks tempting.
"It's worth a shot, innit?" She shrugged, giving a tentative smile. "It's the least I could do, is at least try. At worst it does nothing."
"At worst I get my hopes up." Jimmy sighed, leaning his head against Tango. It seemed his body was beginning to decide for him that it was time to rest.
Tango brought his hand up to his rancher's hair, running his claws through the long strands in comfort. Whatever you want to do, I support it. That was how they always operated, wasn't it? He let his tail curl around Jimmy's talons. "I think either way, for now rest is in order."
That Jimmy found the strength to grumble about. "Fine, all of you can go hungry. I don't care."
"That's the spirit!" Tango chirped, hauling the whining avian to his feet. He couldn't pick him up with only one arm, so he resigned to dragging him down the hall. He stopped as they reached False, giving her a grateful smile before shuffling past her. He hissed as his stump bumped against the wall. Jimmy's head shot up immediately. "It's fine, I'm used to it." Tango strained to say through the jolt of pain. He'd forgotten just how tender it had been that day.
"You shouldn't be used to it." Jimmy chastised. "It's not healthy."
Tango gaped at him then burst out laughing, "Okay, Mister Hypocrite. Time to go to bed."
"Excuse me!"
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rin-may-1103 · 27 days ago
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Turn Back the Frozen Sands of Time
(I couldn't come up with a better title, lol, so we're stuck with this.)
unadulteratedsoulsweets's Prompt | Master Post | Next
Danny didn't startle awake; he didn't gasp for unnecessary breath; he didn't cry out in pain.
No, Danny woke to the sound of nothing; the sound of wind calmly crawling through stone halls, of dust drifting through the silent air, of birds singing songs off in the distance.
This was a silence he hadn't heard in years. And for all the pain that the silence brought, he couldn't help but hold his breath, the little spark of hope settling in his heart, no, his core.
He's had years to hate, yell, and ignore his childhood. Years to accept what had been done to him. Years to forgive.
Years to grieve what had been and what could have been.
Years to wish for a chance to go back.
Years to accept he'd never would, and move on.
Opening his eyes, Danny looked at his childhood room in confused wonder. It was just as he remembered: nothing had moved from where he had left it. Loose papers scattered across an intricate desk, weapons displayed proudly on the stone walls, bright colorful paint, and tiles embedded into the stone with tedious hard work. His little jar of rocks and twigs he kept on his shelf. The horde of sweets was tucked behind books, like he had just recently added to his stash.
If he hadn't known any better, he could almost convince himself it had all been a dream. Like he hadn't walked out of this room eight years ago, walked to his first death, and right into The Fentons' arms. Like he could walk out that door and greet his brother like he had so many times before.
But he knew better; he's lived through dreams and false realities. He knows what twisted wishes and curses act like, feel like.
this wasn't a dream, this wasn't a damn wish, this was real. It was all horrifically, unbearably, dreadfully real.
And that scared him.
because he remembered being in the Ghost Zone, remembered hopping from rocky island to island in a game of tag with Dani. Remembered pranking the observants for being stuffy old geezers. Remembered hugging Clockwork and darting around the halls just to annoy the ghost. Remembered finally mastering animated Ice sculptures and sending an ice raccoon to fly to the far frozen just so Frostbite would know what he had accomplished.
But he didn't remember how he got here.
How he had gotten out of the zone, across the planet, and into a room deep inside a fortified fortress built by a cult his grandfather had led for several centuries.
One moment he had been testing just how far Fright Knight would go to follow him, and the next he's WAKING up here.
Moving to sit up, Danny froze.
His clothes were different.
He wasn't wearing his typical old tee and ripped blue jeans, nor was he wearing Tucker's hoodie and Sam's lacy skirt she'd finally convinced him to wear.
No, he was wearing a very familiar outfit. One that should be too small for him to fit in after all these years, one that had been mostly destroyed and discarded.
Sitting up, Danny stared in horror at his body. He was in his favorite deep blue and black Kurta, but that wasn't all.
No, no.
He was small.
Well, smaller. (Who knew dying multiple times would stunt his growth?) Like, as in he was eight or nine years old, small, as small as he had been when he had died, small.
If this was real (and it was, he knew it deep down in his core), then he couldn't waste any time panicking. Even after eight years, his daily routine was ingrained into his mind; wake up thirty minutes early, sneak out into the garden to watch the sunrise, sneak back in, get caught by his brother, go to breakfast, lessons, lunch, training, dinner, training, leave to go to bed but sneak out to star gaze, sneak back in and sleep.
The sun wasn't up yet, but it was close, which meant he needed to hurry if he didn't want anyone to get suspicious. Naturally, everyone knew he snuck out in the morning(he had made it wear they'd underestimate him, to make it easier to sneak out at night), so if he wasn't seen by his mother's spies and then caught by his brother, they'd know something was up. They probably wouldn't guess (what? Time travel? That's the only thing that's making sense, but then why is he small?) to be the problem, but they would know something was up and therefore, make it impossible for Danny to investigate it by himself.
Getting up, Danny grabbed a new pair of socks, snatched his special league tabi boots, and the blue strips of fabric he used almost every day. Pulling his socks on, then his boots, he carefully folded the extra fabric of his churidar and wrapped the blue strips tightly around. just like he had been taught.
Standing up, he snagged a few small knives (he always left his katana, he was supposed to be sneaking out to sight see, not fight) and stashed them on his body. It amazes him how easily he slipped back into his old habits; how easily he concealed his weapons, how he automatically silenced his footsteps as he left his room, how he pretended not to notice his mother's spies watching him.
He was acting on muscle memory from eight years ago, yet he didn't even falter as he turned down winding halls and up steep stairs.
Maybe he wasn't using eight years of dusty muscle memory.
Maybe he was using nine years of ingrained habit.
Maybe he was in his actual nine-year-old body.
It would explain how his memory of the day before was almost crystal clear now, how he remembered that there wasn't anything special planned for today, how his brother had been teasing him about his horrible stance in training. Crystal clear, just like his memory of playing with Dani, not even twelve hours ago.
It was like the present him was merged with the past him's body and mind. (Would that make his memories square? memory^2? Like they're both his memories, just one's fresher than the other, but now they feel... More? Tucker would know. It doesn't hurt, but man, was this weird.)
Finally making his way into the garden, Danny turned and scaled the stone walls, his fingers turning slightly red due to the frosty cold air and rocks.
Once at his usual spot, Danny turned and sat down, watching as the sky grew brighter and brighter. Hopefully the spies don't question his delay, maybe they'll chalk it up to him needing a little more sleep. he had pushed himself in training the day before.
Ok, focus on his situation.
What are the facts?
He had been in the ghost zone, nothing was out of the ordinary, and then he was suddenly waking up in his nine-year-old body, his childhood memories revived like he had just lived them(because he technically had, apparently), and he couldn't let anyone know something was wrong. (partly to keep the timeline intact, and partly because assassins get very... pointed when things aren't like how they're supposed to be.)
From his memories, he knows there is nothing extra planned for today. It's a typical boring day in the league. The most exciting thing that could happen is his mother stopping by to teach him instead of his normal mentors. But she did that three days ago, so chances are close to zilch.
Oh, and if his older memories are to be trusted, he is three or four days away from his first death.
Ok, Danny. Take a deep breath.
You've been sent back in time, somehow.
The most obvious cause: Clockwork.
But if he was the one responsible, then there should be a note, and you'd remember why and exactly how you got sent back. Clockwork time travel doesn't typically involve de-aging, and there wasn't a note.
So not Clockwork.
But if not Clockwork, then who and why?
He'd say another ghost broke in and maybe stole one of Clockwork's time manipulation stuff and used it on him, but that wouldn't make sense for multiple reasons. First, most ghosts who have enough audacity to pull a stunt like this, either refrain from doing so because Danny's the king or because they'd rather use their own stuff to screw with him.
Secondly, Clockwork wouldn't just let anyone steal from him, let alone use the stolen stuff against Danny.
So, not a ghost(or other realms being), or at least not one Danny knows of. But the likely hood of a random ass ghost/being doing this was still bogus because of reason number two.
So, that left living beings.
Who among the living would be powerful enough to affect-
"Danyal,"
Danny tensed; he knew that voice. He hated that voice. He's missed that voice. Glancing down with a frown, Danny stared at his brother.
no matter what he wanted to do (stangle him, hug him, cry, laugh, yell), he had to act normal, and normal nine-year-old Danyal al Ghul would be annoyed and confused that his morning sunrise was being interrupted, yet nervous because he'd been 'caught'. Normal nine-year-old Danyal al Ghul was 'weak' and 'innocent'. Or, well, compared to his brother, that is. (he knows now that nine-year-old him was nowhere near normal compared to everyone else.)
Damian was staring up at him, his body tense and eyes sharp with something Danny couldn't place. He looked upset, if Danny was being honest. But why would he be upset?
wait.
A memory from yesterday popped up; Damian had stolen his favorite knife, teasing him for failing to hit the target dead on like he could. Danny had stolen his shuko hand claws in retaliation.
"I swear I didn't do it," Danny blurted, glancing around to see his escape routes. He had two, the other side of the roof, or risk trying to get past Damian and back inside.
Damian blinked, looking thrown off for a second, his brows furrowed, "Do what?"
Danny glanced back, forcing his body to nervously shift, "Take your shuko claws." (Present him would have never given himself away like this, but past Danny had no brain-to-mouth filter and enough anxiety to fuel a rocket ship, which usually led to him being a horrible liar.)
Damian was silent for a moment, closing his eyes as if he were pained. "That's not," he started, before stopping and taking a deep breath to center himself.
This was weird. Danny didn't remember an interaction like this happening. what was going on? had something changed? had he screwed up the timeline by not getting outside fast enough?
"I'm not mad at you," Damian continued, finally opening his eyes and staring up at him with a blank face.
"You're not?" Danny asked, moving to make it look like he was ready to bolt at any moment. (It wasn't hard to act like it when he truly did feel like he should run.)
"No, I wanted to know if," Damian paused, pursing his lips just slightly. It was his thinking face, the face he only got when he really was panicking about what to do next. Why was he panicking?
"If?" Danny pushed, slowly leaning forward and weighing the pros and cons of jumping down and being face to face with him.
"If you," Damian started slowly, "would allow me to join you."
Danny blinked, then blinked again. (Damian was acting weird, what the hell? Wait? Has he been misinterpreting his brother this whole time? Was he always catching Danny as he snuck back in because he wanted to join him? wait, no, focus, Danny!)
"Sure!" Danny smiled, patting the roof next to him. Nine-year-old Danyal would be ecstatic if his brother wanted to join him. So ecstatic in fact, he might even start ranting about everything he knew about the sun. (Present Danny was also about to start ranting, just more out of nervousness than excitement.)
Shaking his hands to get rid of the excess energy (excited energy because, even if Danny never forgave his brother for what happened, he still loved him, and spending even just a moment with him was like a dream come true), Danny beamed as his brother hauled himself up onto the roof and sat down.
"Did you know the sun has layers?" Danny blurted, turning to glance up at the mountains around them. Technically, the sun was up, but it still hadn't broken over the mountain ridge. Ancients, he never realized how much he missed the peaceful mornings here in Nanda Parbat.
"Really?" Damian asked softly, turning to watch the sun rise as well. A new bird song broke out, their chirps and whistles echoing off the rocky walls and building a symphony for just the two of them to enjoy.
Danny wasn't sure what he had done to change things, but maybe, just maybe, he could be selfish and not worry for just a moment. He wanted to enjoy the precious little time he had with his twin, even if the knowledge of what would happen in three days hung over his head.
Damian turned to look at him again, his green eyes focused intently on Danny's face, and with a smile that Danny's very rarely seen, asked, "Can you tell me about them?"
Next
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rafecameronssl4t · 8 months ago
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Mind, body, and soul || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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gif by @mad3lyncline
Summary: in a rare moment of vulnerability, Rafe voices his need for you and you only.
Warnings: angst galore 😍😍
Word count: 2,371
A/n: guys this acc had me giggling, smiling, and kicking my feet bc I love it when Rafe is so lovestruck by reader and being vulnerable to her and her only.
MASTERLIST
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divider by @h-aewo
As you reverse park your car, the bass-heavy thrum of trap music vibrates so intensely you can feel it reverberating even from your car. Sarah, lounging in the passenger seat with a tipsy grin, shakes her head. “I can already tell I’m going to be horribly hungover tomorrow.” You chuckle, flicking her a sympathetic look as your finger hovers over the button to raise the convertible roof.
“Me too,” you agree with a laugh. But just as you press it, a blinding light floods the car, making both of you instinctively shield your eyes. “What the hell?” you mutter, squinting as you try to make out the source of the glare. Across the parking lot, a truck idles with its high beams aimed right at you. You narrow your eyes, recognising it immediately.
“Is that your brother’s truck?” you ask Sarah, already knowing the answer. She groans. “It is.” With an exaggerated sigh, you roll your eyes and flip him off, watching as he laugh. “Yeah, real funny, dickhead!” you call out, your voice carrying over the pulsing music just as the roof finishes closing.
Shaking your head with an amused grin, you hop out of the car, the cool night air washing over you as you look back to see Rafe, still sitting behind the wheel with that signature smug grin, clearly pleased with his little stunt. “Of course my brother’s here,” Sarah mutters under her breath as she steps out and shuts her door, the headlights casting long shadows across the driveway as you hit the lock button.
You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. “It’s a party loaded with booze, drugs, and girls—where else would he be? Rafe wouldn’t stray too far from that scene,” you say, a knowing smirk playing at your lips. As you round the car, you throw a pointed glance his way, catching his eye for a brief, charged moment.
His grin widens, like he’s daring you to say something, but you roll your eyes, dismissing him as you turn back toward the house. The heavy beat from inside grows louder with each step, the thumping bass promising a long, wild night ahead. Behind you, you can still feel Rafe’s gaze, lingering with a mix of mischief and something unspoken.
~
“Finally, you’re here,” his voice murmurs close to your ear just as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you into him. The familiar warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne makes you melt, and you can’t help but grin as you look up at him. “Miss me that much?” you tease, rising onto your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips, savouring the brief contact.
“Get a room, please,” Sarah mutters, rolling her eyes as she heads off, leaving you both laughing softly. You’re still smiling into the kiss when his hand slides to grip your waist, then dips lower to give your ass a playful squeeze. Biting back a laugh, you take his hand in yours and lead him inside, weaving through the crowd toward the kitchen, where bottles line the counters and red cups litter the island.
Just as you reach for a drink, you hear Rafe’s voice behind you, casual yet somehow authoritative. “Hey, man,” he calls out, extending a hand. You turn in time to see Topper clasp his hand, pulling him in for a quick bro hug, their easy familiarity apparent. Rafe glances over Topper’s shoulder and gives you a subtle wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. You take a slow, steady sip of your drink, trying to ignore the flutter that Rafe’s wink stirs up.
He gives you a curt nod, voice cool as he says your name—“Y/n”—playing it off casually, fully aware that Topper’s watching. Then, as if on cue, Topper drapes his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his touch, holding Rafe’s gaze with a challenging glint as you cock an eyebrow at him, feeling the tension sparking in the space between you. Rafe just smiles, but you can tell by the tightness at the corners of his mouth that he’s bothered, the calm facade masking what you know to be a prick of jealousy.
Leaning in, you press close to Topper, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “I’m gonna go find Sarah. I’ll be back.” You punctuate the words with a soft kiss to his jaw, aware of Rafe’s intense gaze on you, reading every movement. With one last glance over your shoulder, you slip away, feeling the weight of Rafe’s stare as you blend into the crowd, a mix of satisfaction and anticipation simmering in your chest.
~
“Took you long enough,” Rafe’s voice comes out in a lazy drawl, each word dripping with barely concealed impatience as you shut the door softly behind you. His eyes are locked on you, tracking your every step as you make your way across the room, his posture relaxed, yet there’s a simmering intensity beneath it.
“Yeah, well, I was having my fun,” you say with a playful pout, savoring the way his gaze darkens slightly, jaw tightening as he registers your words. You take your time, letting each step toward him linger, the tension between you building with each inch of distance closed. Rafe’s expression flickers with something unreadable as you stop a couple of feet from him.
“What do you want, Rafe?” you ask, voice soft but steady, holding his gaze with a hint of challenge. His eyes drag slowly over you, a touch possessive. “I don’t get why you’re still with him,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet edge. The statement hangs in the air, daring you to defend it. “Topper?” You shrug casually, though you can see the slight twitch in Rafe’s jaw as you say his name.
“Well, he’s my boyfriend. And…” You pause, watching his reaction, leaning into the charged silence before continuing, “I love him.” Your voice is confident, but you’re aware of how close you are now, of the heat radiating from his body as you step between his legs, close enough to feel the subtle tension in him. Rafe’s pupils dilate, his breathing shallow as he lifts his gaze back to yours, dark and intense.
Slowly, his hand reaches out, resting on the back of your thigh, fingers tightening as he guides you a step closer, his touch firm, sending a shiver through you. The distance between you vanishes, and you bring your hands up to his face, cradling it gently as you tilt his head back, forcing him to look up at you. His usual confidence is flickering, replaced by something raw, vulnerable.
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a desperate edge. His eyes search yours, seeking the truth, his unspoken desire crackling in the air between you, daring you to deny it. His words hang between you, heavy with something you’re not ready to name, his eyes searching yours with a mix of longing and frustration that makes your heart race.
ou hesitate, fingers brushing over his jaw, feeling the tension in him as he waits for you to say something, anything, that confirms what he so desperately wants to believe. A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you arch an eyebrow at him, letting the weight of his expectation settle for a beat before saying, “I don’t get why you’re acting like this just because I let you go down on me at that party.”
Your voice is teasing, the words edged with a playfulness that you know will only stoke his frustration further. Rafe’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he processes your response. He lets out a short, mirthless laugh, his grip on your thigh tightening just enough for you to feel the heat of his frustration. “You think this is a joke?” he murmurs, voice low, but there’s a vulnerable edge beneath the words.
You let your hands fall from his face, crossing your arms as you look down at him, still standing between his legs. “What am I supposed to think, Rafe? You’re acting like one night means forever.” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him, but the way he’s looking at you—intense, possessive, almost pleading—makes your own resolve waver. Rafe’s gaze sharpens, his frustration giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable.
“You think I just go down on anyone?” he mutters, his voice barely concealing the hurt simmering beneath his irritation. His hand tightens on your thigh, pulling you that much closer as he speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if you didn’t mean something to me, if this didn’t mean something.” You feel his words settle over you, heavier than you expected. His eyes are locked on yours, unflinching, his expression raw and open in a way that catches you off guard.
He’s never looked at you like this, not with this intensity, this strange mix of frustration and honesty that threatens to crack your own defenses. Rafe’s hand slides up to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you. “That night, it wasn’t just a game for me,” he says softly, voice rough with the weight of the confession. “Don’t pretend it was for you, either.”
You want to say something, anything that will take the edge off the tension thickening between you, but as you look into his eyes, you realize there’s nothing you can say to downplay what happened. The unspoken connection between you is real, and the way he’s holding you now feels dangerously close to a promise. “He’s your best friend, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice softening as you move a strand of his hair away from his forehead.
The gesture feels intimate, yet the weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of the precarious line you’re both walking. Rafe shifts slightly, moving his head aside, the warmth of your touch lingering as your finger hovers just above his skin, caught between wanting to reach out and the realization of the boundary you’re skirting. After a moment’s pause, you let your hand fall back down beside you, the distance between you feeling impossibly charged.
“Yeah, and I don’t care about him,” he replies, his voice low but steady, an edge of defiance creeping in. “What matters is how I feel about you.” There’s a moment where his expression flickers—vulnerability giving way to defensiveness. Your heart races at his admission, the honesty in his tone sending a thrill through you. “So you think that just because we had one moment, I should throw everything away?” you challenge, your voice firm, yet tinged with uncertainty.
Rafe’s expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability beneath the surface. “You make it sound like I should care about Topper,” he says, the annoyance creeping into his voice. “I don’t. All I care about is you.” The weight of his words hangs in the air, thick with tension. You take a breath, feeling the gravity of what he’s saying. “But it’s not that simple, Rafe. You can’t just ignore everything else.”
“Why not?” he replies, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, filled with intensity. “Why can’t I want you? Why can’t I want more than what we’ve settled for?” Your pulse quickens, caught between his gaze and the truth of your own feelings. Rafe’s intensity is captivating, and as he searches your eyes for answers, you realise that the boundaries you thought you had are blurring, the desire between you too strong to deny.
“Because you can’t have me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but the words land with a finality that makes his jaw tense. Your hands lift to cradle his face, fingertips brushing against his skin as if trying to commit every line and angle to memory. Your gaze flickers to his lips, the urge to close the distance almost overpowering.
Rafe’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he studies your face, searching for any trace of doubt. “Says who?” he murmurs, leaning into your touch, his hands coming up to rest gently over yours. He’s holding you there, grounding himself in this moment as though refusing to let it slip away. You swallow, feeling the intensity radiate off him. “Says the part of me that knows you don’t always get what you want.”
The words feel heavy, but there’s a tremor in your voice that betrays your resolve. Even as you speak, your thumb unconsciously traces the curve of his cheek, lingering with a tenderness that contradicts the distance you’re trying to impose. Rafe’s gaze drops to your mouth, a flicker of longing crossing his face. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice rough and unsteady, his eyes meeting yours with a determination that makes your heart race.
“I can’t help wanting you. Mind, body, and soul,” he murmurs, the words heavy with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is low, almost reverent, and as he leans in, his lips hover just inches from yours. His breath fans over your skin, warm and inviting, the space between you crackling with electricity.
His hands slide down, settling possessively on your waist, fingers pressing into you as though anchoring himself in this moment. He pulls you in closer, his gaze locked on yours with a raw vulnerability that you’ve rarely seen. “And I think you want this too,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching your face for any hint of hesitation.
You feel your resolve wavering, the intensity in his words and the weight of his touch making it impossible to ignore the desire building between you. There’s a pause, a beat of silence where the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, caught in this fragile, electric moment. You feel the pull, the undeniable truth in his words.
Your fingers tighten slightly against his skin, and you lean in just enough to brush your lips over his, tentative, testing, but unable to hold back. It’s a whisper of a kiss, a surrender, and as his grip on you tightens, you know there’s no turning back.
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letsdosciencetoit · 5 days ago
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WIP - BuckTommy 5+1 - Part 6d
We're getting into the home stretch now. I'm crossing my fingers that there will be one last piece out before the end of the weekend.
Five times the 118 worried about telling Buck that Tommy got married and one time they realize they didn't have to.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 +1 a +1b +1c
+1 - Eddie
Eddie turns onto the street Buck had given the address for, and he gets an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.  The houses look familiar, and he’s surprised to see the street parking is taken up already despite the fact that Eddie has arrived early to make sure Chris doesn’t have to walk.
“Everything alright, Dad,” Chris asks, from the seat beside him, sensing his dad’s frustration.  Eddie still feels something that his kid is old enough to ride in the front seat and has been for a few years now.
“I’m just surprised about how busy it is,” Eddie admits, not mentioning the familiarity of the neighbourhood.
“Are you sure you have the right time?” Chris asks, as though Eddie hadn’t compulsively checked the message Buck had sent him.  Just two lines: an address and a time.
“I’m sure,” Eddie gritted back, before taking a deep breath to center himself.  “I’ll drop you off at the end of the driveway and then find a place to park.”
With the windows rolled down, Eddie can already hear the indistinct noise of a gathering in the back yard. As he pulls to a stop in front of the address Eddie finally clues in as to where they are.  It’s familiar because he’s been here before, several times.
Ravi surprises Eddie at the end of the driveway. “Eddie! You made it!  I’ll make sure Chris makes it back to Harry, Denny and the other kids if you want to get parked. Just head into the house when you get here.  Buck wanted to talk to you about something.”
Eddie swallows his unease at Ravi’s words. He’s starting to think he was given the wrong time on purpose.
Chris doesn’t notice his discomfort.  He hops out of the running car and heads to the back, engaging Ravi in easy conversation.  He barely spares Eddie a backwards glance, clearly happy to be seeing his friends.
Eddie pulls away from the house and  finds a spot to park his car further up the street.  One of the many benefits of the smaller vehicle is that he can fit the car in place the truck would never go.  He grabs the pack of beer and the small house plant he’d picked up for Buck and walked back to the house he knew belonged to Tommy.
Eddie let himself in the front door when he arrived, sees Buck sitting on the kitchen island smiling at his phone, and doesn’t think before he calls out, “I didn’t realize we were having a house warming to another place you’re crashing.”
He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.  He watches Buck clench his jaw, close his eyes and take a deep breath. 
“Shit, I’m sorry man,” Eddie immediately apologizes. “I didn’t mean it like that.  My therapist tells me I use my words as a defense mechanism so I don’t have to deal with my discomfort.  I’m trying to do better, but… ah.”
Buck raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side. “But I make you uncomfortable?”
Eddie looks away. “Not like that. I was an asshole to you, and I need to apologize.  I’m just, uh, not very good at that.”
“You really aren’t,” Buck agrees, with a snort of laughter. “So you’re seeing Frank again?”
“No,” Eddie explains.  “Someone outside of the department.  The last year has shown me I have a lot to work on outside of my work-related trauma.”
“That’s good,” Buck offered, hoping off the counter.  “Sounds like it’s helping.”
“It’s a work in progress,” Eddie admits, bringing a had up to rub at the back of his neck. He still hasn’t apologized to Buck, but his body is feeling physically itchy from the stress, and he desperately wants to change the topic.  “So you’re living with Tommy now?”
“Yep,” is all Buck replies, eyeing Eddie like he’s waiting for something else.
“So you’ve met his husband, then,” Eddie concludes.  “And it’s not awkward.”
“I would hope not,” Buck responds, mouth pulling into a grin, still waiting.
Eddie feels wrong footed, so he looks away from Buck to the rest of the room. 
A lot of it is the same from last year, but as he takes it in he starts to notice the changes.  A different couch.  A piece of art that used to be displayed proudly in the loft, or more recently in Eddie’s house.  More and more, he starts to see Buck’s influence in what had previously been Tommy’s home alone.  They’re lives have been intertwined, and it’s on full display if you know what to look for.
With all of the puzzle pieces in place, Eddie feels like a fucking idiot.  Buck smiles with his whole face when he sees that Eddie has clued in.
“So you guys…” Eddie trails off.
Buck nodded in earnest.  “We did, a few months ago.”
“And this is going to be your…”
“It is,” Buck agrees.  “That’s why I needed to make sure you arrived last. You would have given away the surprise.  I’m sorry that made things hard for parking.”
“I get why you didn’t say anything,” Eddie offers, “and if this is what you want, then I’m happy for the two of you.”
“Your not upset that I’m making everything all about me?” Buck can’t help but throw out, taking in Eddie’s reaction.
Eddie stops himself from retreating into himself or letting the anger take over.  He knows he’s earned Buck’s reaction.  Instead, he says, “I’m sorry for how I handled myself in the last year.  I took advantage of your friendship, and lashed out at you.  If you’ll let me, I’d like to make it up to you, but today is not the day for that.   If there’s one time that you should make everything about yourself, it’s definitely today.”
Buck smiled even wider, and pulled Eddie into a hug.  “I’m glad you’re here.  I couldn’t imagine going through everything without my brother by my side.”
“No where else I’d rather be today,” Eddie agrees. 
“Alright.  Now, if you want to head outside, we’ll get the real party started momentarily.”
Next Part
Tag List: @fenrirscarsback, @gayjaytodd, @wiay04, @daughterofscotland, @thuperrah, @anniegraceinreallife, @v88sy @chemistry66, @partofthelouniverse, @teabroomsandbooks, @buffaluff, @theallyandhisbeast, @mysterious-skin, @kinardsevan, @hcrm, @cliophilyra, @shushshesbeingsmart, @buck-up-buck, @pikaguppy, @bigheartbuck, @thats-the-biz-babe,
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yvaineseleneposts · 1 month ago
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Not like that... right?
A/N: Sorry about the late post. Yesterday I was watching Eurovision... I don't know why either but that means I had to upload on a Sunday. Have a nice week!
Requested: no
Pairing: Jack Hughes x reader
Words: 3k
Warning(s): none
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You’ve known Jack since he was just the lanky kid next door who couldn’t sit still to save his life. Summers were filled with scraped knees and melting popsicles, and winters were battles on frozen ponds where he insisted he was a better skater than you. (He was. You’d never admit it.)
Years later, not much had changed—except everything had. Now, he played for the Devils. You were working your first real job in Jersey. And even though life had grown up, Jack? He still made fart noises with his armpit when he thought no one was watching.
You were watching. All the time, lately.
You two had stayed close through the years. Texts during off-seasons turned into calls. Then weekend visits. Then him dragging you to games, even though you claimed you didn't understand hockey (you understood enough to yell when someone hit him too hard).
Now, it was late. You were sitting on his couch, both of you in hoodies and socks, a Marvel movie playing low in the background. You weren’t watching it.
Jack was halfway through telling a story about Luke forgetting his skates when his eyes flicked to you. “You okay?”
You blink. “Yeah. Just… long day.”
“You’ve had a lot of those lately.”
There’s something about the way he says it—soft, careful—that makes you look at him. His hair's tousled. His sweatshirt is too big on his lean frame, sleeves bunched at the wrists. His gaze lingers a second too long.
You shift. “Work’s been chaos.”
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
And you do. You always have. But that’s the problem. Because lately when you talk to Jack, your heart does this annoying flutter thing, like it’s trying to tell you something you’re not ready to hear.
So instead, you nod and lean your head against his shoulder. It's familiar. Safe.
Jack doesn’t say anything. Just lifts his arm so you can curl into him a little closer. His hand rests lightly against your arm, fingers tapping a rhythm against your sleeve like he’s thinking.
You let your eyes close. You pretend not to notice how long he sits there like that, silent and still, like he’s afraid to move. Like something’s changed.
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You don’t talk about the night on the couch.
Not because it was awkward—Jack never let things get awkward between you—but because something about it felt fragile. Like if either of you mentioned how close you sat or how his hand eventually slipped into yours like it belonged there, it would break the spell.
So you said nothing. He didn’t either.
Instead, you fell back into the usual rhythm. Sort of. You still came over after work, but now you stayed later. You still teased him about his hair, but now he leaned into your touch when you smoothed it back. It was the same friendship, only softer around the edges. Tighter. Warmer.
You were sitting at his kitchen island one Saturday, elbows on the counter while Jack made the world's most chaotic smoothie. He was wearing a backwards cap, an oversized t-shirt that read “LUKE’S BIGGEST FAN,” and shorts that definitely belonged to someone else.
“Why do you even have spinach if you’re just going to pretend it doesn't exist?” you ask, eyeing the untouched bag.
Jack shrugs, dumping in an unhealthy amount of peanut butter. “Optics.”
You laugh. “For who? Me?”
He glances up. There’s something unreadable in his face for half a second. “Maybe.”
You roll your eyes and steal a sip from his smoothie before he can stop you.
“Hey! You don’t even like banana!”
“Exactly. You deserve consequences.”
He grins, stepping closer to try to take it back, but you pull the glass away and hop off the stool. He catches your wrist mid-dodge, just playfully, but then—
You’re close. Like really close.
His fingers stay around your wrist longer than they need to. Your eyes meet. There’s that flicker again. The one that makes your stomach turn traitor.
“I, uh—” You pull back too fast. The smoothie sloshes onto the floor. “Oh no.”
Jack just stares for a second, like he forgot what the hell a smoothie even is. Then he blinks, shakes it off, and grabs a paper towel.
“Classic you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Chaos in human form.”
You grin, but your heart is doing somersaults. Because you saw it. That moment. You weren’t imagining it, were you?
Later, when you leave for the night, Jack stands at the door a beat longer than usual. His voice is quiet.
“Hey.”
You pause. Turn.
“I’m glad you’re here. Just… always.”
Your chest tightens.
“Me too,” you say. Then you smile, because it’s easier than asking what he really meant.
And what you’re too scared to hope.
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Jack invites you to one of his games. Again.
But this time, it’s different. This time, when you arrive at the Prudential Center, your seats aren’t just good—they’re insanely good. As in: “How the hell did you pull this off?” good.
You don’t ask. He grins when you text him a selfie from the glass and tells you to “cheer extra loud or else.” You do. You always do.
You wait for him afterward, standing near the hallway that leads to the locker rooms. You scroll through your phone, trying to look busy, when someone stops beside you.
“Hey,” a voice says. “You here for Jack?”
You look up. A tall guy in a suit, probably some PR rep or staffer, smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach churn—not in the good way. He’s charming. Overly confident.
“Yeah,” you say cautiously. “I’m a friend.”
“You his girlfriend?”
You blink. “No. Just—friends.”
He grins like that’s an invitation. You’re saved—mercifully—by the sound of Jack’s laugh, familiar and bright as he rounds the corner, still in a zip-up warm-up jacket. His expression shifts the second he sees the guy.
“Hey,” he says to you, smile faltering only slightly. “Ready?”
The guy claps Jack on the shoulder, too friendly. “Didn’t know you had such pretty friends hanging around.”
Jack stiffens. You feel it.
“That’s enough,” Jack says, light but sharp.
The guy raises his hands like it’s a joke, mutters something about heading out, and disappears.
You exhale. “Well, that wasn’t gross at all.”
Jack doesn’t answer right away. Just walks beside you, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, jaw tight.
“You okay?”
He glances down. “He was out of line.”
“I’m fine, Jack. He’s just a creep.”
“Still,” Jack mutters. “I didn’t like it.”
You slow your steps. “Why?”
His mouth opens. Closes. Then: “I just didn’t, alright?”
But there’s something in the way he says it. Something hot underneath all that quiet.
You don’t push. You can’t. Not when your heart is already hammering because when he looked at you—really looked at you—right after that guy walked away?
It wasn’t nothing. And maybe he knows it, too. Because when he drops you off at your place later that night, Jack lingers in the doorway.
You look up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Jack?”
He swallows. His eyes flick to your mouth. And linger. But he steps back.
“Night,” he says. “Text me when you’re in.”
And just like that, the door closes.
But the feeling? The question he didn’t ask?
That stays.
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It starts with rain.
Like, actual biblical levels of rain. Sheets of it crashing against your window, the sky split open by lightning. You’re curled up in bed, phone in hand, texting Jack about how the storm is making your lights flicker when he calls instead.
“Are you good?” His voice is laced with concern, soft and sleepy.
“Yeah. Cozy. Creeped out. Classic horror movie vibes.”
“Want me to come get you?”
You laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “I’d rather you be here.”
You’re already slipping on your hoodie.
You show up at his apartment soaked through and slightly breathless. He opens the door with a blanket slung around his shoulders like a cape and a mug in one hand.
“Wow,” you say, smirking. “Chivalry and hot chocolate?”
He grins. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”
You are. Deeply. Disastrously.
Later, you’re both on the couch again, the storm pounding against the windows while a rerun of The Office plays on mute. Jack is beside you, blanket pulled over both your legs. His arm brushes yours. His thigh is warm against yours. Neither of you move.
“You can stay,” he says, voice quiet.
You glance over. “What?”
“Tonight. I mean. If you don’t want to drive back. You can take the bed, obviously.”
“Or we could just—” you pause, immediately regretting it, “—share it.”
Jack doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at you. Really looks.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “Okay.”
It’s late when you finally climb into his bed, backs turned like two people pretending they’re not pretending. You can hear his breathing. Slow. Uneven. Neither of you speak. Then, in the dark:
“Remember that summer I broke my wrist?” Jack murmurs.
You smile against the pillow. “You refused to stop playing mini sticks with Luke even though your cast smelled like death.”
“I remember you signed it,” he says. “You wrote: ‘Don’t be dumb, idiot.’”
You laugh softly. “Classic me.”
There’s a long pause.
“I think about stuff like that a lot,” Jack says. “How easy it always was. With you.”
Your heart thuds. “It still is.”
He shifts, like he might turn to face you, but doesn’t. “Sometimes I feel like something’s… different.”
You hold your breath. You want to say, Me too. But instead, you whisper, “What do you mean?”
He exhales, voice just above a whisper. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”
But it does matter. And you both know it.
You lie there for a long time, eyes open in the dark, feeling the space between you shrink with every unspoken word.
And just before sleep claims you, you feel it—Jack’s hand, reaching quietly for yours under the blanket. You let him hold it. No one says a word.
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You wake up before him.
It’s early—the light through the blinds is soft, golden, too gentle to be real. For a moment, you forget where you are. Then you remember the warm weight of a hand still clasped in yours. Jack. You’re in his bed. Facing him. You don’t dare move.
He’s asleep, mouth slightly parted, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. His hair is a mess, flattened on one side, and the blanket has slipped down his shoulder. He looks impossibly peaceful. And so close.
Your hands are still tangled beneath the covers. You hadn’t let go. Neither had he. Eventually, his eyes flutter open. He blinks once. Twice. Then he sees you. For a beat, neither of you says a word.
“Morning,” he says, voice thick with sleep.
“Morning.”
Silence.
“I didn’t mean to—” he starts.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you interrupt.
Jack studies you, the way your hair’s a mess, how your cheek is creased from the pillow. You wonder what he sees. You wonder if he feels it too.
“Last night,” he says, “felt... different.”
“It was.”
More silence. Charged this time. The kind that hums between bodies that know exactly how near they are. Your fingers are still brushing.
He sits up slowly, running a hand through his hair. You follow, mirroring him, the blanket slipping down your back.
You’re both sitting now, legs crossed, knees nearly touching.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, not looking at you.
You nod. “Yeah.”
He finally turns. “If I’d kissed you last night… would that have been okay?”
Your breath catches. Your heart kicks into gear like it’s running a marathon.
You swallow. “Yeah. It would've.”
Jack’s eyes fall to your mouth. Just briefly. Then back up.
His hand finds yours again—nervous now. Tighter. He leans in, just enough that you can feel the shift in the air.
You tilt toward him. Everything slows.
You feel the warmth of his breath, the brush of his knee against yours. He’s right there. One inch. Maybe less.
Then—
His phone buzzes. Loud. Insistent. A jarring, stupid sound that shatters the moment. You both flinch.
He pulls back, swearing under his breath, reaching for it.
It’s Luke.
You turn away, heart pounding, trying not to look crushed.
Jack answers, mutters a quick “yeah, I’ll call you back,” and hangs up.
When he turns to you again, you’re already slipping out of bed, grabbing your sweatshirt off the chair.
“Sorry,” he says. “That wasn’t—”
“It’s okay,” you lie, forcing a smile. “We should probably eat something.”
Jack stands too, watching you like you might disappear.
He doesn’t say what you’re both thinking. Neither do you. But the almost hangs in the air like smoke. And it’s not going away.
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It happens three days later.
You’ve been dodging each other ever since the almost kiss. Not on purpose—just in the way people do when everything’s changed and no one’s brave enough to say it out loud.
The texts are shorter. Calls end sooner. You still talk, but not like before.
So when Jack texts:
“You free?” “Come over?”
You hesitate but you go.
He opens the door, hoodie on, jaw tight, like he hasn’t slept right in days. You step inside, the silence heavy around you. Neither of you says hi. He doesn’t even ask if you want something to drink, which means this isn’t about small talk.
Jack stands there for a second. Hands in his hoodie pocket. Bouncing on the balls of his feet like he’s trying to find the right words and keeps missing.
Then, finally:
“You’ve been weird.”
You blink. “I’ve been weird?”
He stares at you, frustrated—more at himself than at you.
“Yeah. And me. I know. I just—I need to say something and if I don’t do it now, I might never—”
“Jack—”
“No. Just—let me.”
You stop. Let him breathe. His voice is low when he speaks again.
“That night? In bed? I should’ve kissed you.”
You stare at him.
“I wanted to. I still want to. I’ve been wanting to for… I don’t even know how long. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t know if it would ruin everything.”
Your chest is tight. “It wouldn’t have.”
He exhales sharply, like hearing it out loud floors him.
“Then I guess I’ve been an idiot,” he says. “Because I keep looking at you like I don’t know how to stop. And I think you know that. And I think you keep looking back.”
You take a step closer. “I do.”
He looks at you. Really looks.
“You can’t keep looking at me like that,” he says, barely above a whisper, “if you don’t want this too.”
“I do.”
It’s all he needs to hear.
Jack closes the space between you in two steps. His hand comes up to your cheek, tentative, like he still doesn’t believe this is happening. Like you might pull away. You don’t.
And when he kisses you, it’s not hesitant. It’s everything the silence has been screaming—months, years of unsaid feelings poured into one kiss that feels like coming home and setting fire to it at the same time.
When he finally pulls back, forehead resting against yours, you’re both breathless.
“That was real,” he says.
You nod.
“It always was.”
It starts where the last kiss ended—still standing in the living room, his breath hot against your lips, your pulse hammering in your throat.
Jack’s hand is still cradling your face, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you. His other hand slides to your waist, pulling you in with just enough pressure to make your stomach flutter.
Your hands find his hoodie—fists curling in the soft cotton, tugging him closer.
And then he kisses you again. Deeper this time. Slower. Like he’s been dying to do it and now that he’s allowed to, he’s going to take his time.
When he finally breaks the kiss, it’s only to breathe against your mouth. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
You rest your forehead against his. “I might.”
Jack chuckles softly, but there’s nothing funny in the way his hands slide down your sides, settling at your hips.
“Say it again,” he murmurs.
You blink, dazed. “What?”
“That you wanted this too.”
You press your lips to his again, lingering. “I want this, Jack.”
He exhales like it’s the first full breath he’s taken in months.
The air between you changes. Thickens. He walks you backward slowly, deliberately, until the backs of your legs hit the couch.
You fall into it together—messy, clumsy in the best way. He’s on top of you, weight warm, his mouth finding your neck, then your jaw, then your collarbone.
Your hands slip under the hem of his hoodie. He freezes for just a second—just long enough to whisper against your skin, “You sure?”
You answer by pulling it over his head.
Jack grins, breathless, and then he’s kissing you again, hands everywhere but still somehow gentle. Worshipful. Like he’s afraid to go too far but can't stop himself from trying.
He kisses your shoulder. Your wrist. Your sternum. Everywhere but where your body is aching for him, teasing like it’s a game he already knows he’s won.
“Jack—” you gasp, fingers digging into his back.
He looks up, eyes dark, voice wrecked. “Don’t look at me like that unless you want me to lose it.”
You smirk. “Maybe I want you to.”
That’s the last straw. The rest of the night unfolds in quiet moans and laughter between kisses, long pauses where you just stare at each other like, How did we wait this long?
He touches you like he’s not in a rush. Like he wants to make sure every moment is something you'll remember when you're tangled up in his sheets, heart still racing, breath still catching.
And when it's over—when you're tucked under the same blanket, legs tangled, his arm looped around your waist—he presses a kiss to your temple and whispers:
“This wasn’t just something that had to happen.”
You look up at him.
“It’s something I want again. And again.”
And the way he says it makes you believe that maybe this—you and Jack—was always going to end up here.
Right where you belong.
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nogutsnogloria · 12 days ago
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Could I humbly request more of Pope x Lena’s favorite? Maybe Pope finally asks her out but something happens and they bring Lena along on their date?
um yes you absolutely can. thank you so much for your request i hope this does it justice.
summary: your first date with andrew is slightly derailed. you both make the best of it.
pope cannot believe that the sitter bailed. he purposely didn’t beg one of his brothers and went with the neighbour who had always been reliable when he asked, she cancelled last minute and he doesn’t want to cancel on you but obviously he can’t leave lena. he has to let you know that he owes you a rain check. hey-sitter cancelled. there are a few more people i can try but we might need to reschedule.
he’s sighing and rubbing his face tossing his phone on the counter when lena comes up to him. “uncle pope what’s wrong?” she’s climbing up onto the stool at the island next to him. “you remember how i told you that you would have a babysitter tonight?” lena nods. “well your babysitter is suddenly busy so i have to change my plans a little bit” pope turns to her and sees her smiling like she has the best idea. “you know who could babysit me…” she trails off and pope knows exactly who she means. “kiddo i have a secret, my plans are with her already. she’s was supposed to be busy with me tonight.” lena grins at him. “like a date? are you gonna marry her?” that makes pope huff a little laugh. “well i should probably take her on a first date before we think about getting married don’t you think?” he teases her with a little poke to her side. it makes her giggle. pope wasn’t planning on telling her yet but since it’s out now he has to ask. “is that okay with you if her and i start going on dates? she will probably be around a bit more but it doesn’t mean anything changes between you and me right?” lena nods. “i know, she makes me really happy uncle pope i like her a lot” pope pulls her into a hug. “yeah me too.”
you just got out of the shower and you checked your phone to andrew’s text saying the sitter cancelled. you sit on the bed and sigh a bit disappointed. you were looking forward to seeing him, but you understand completely that lena comes first, you wouldn’t want that to change for him ever, especially for you. that still doesn’t change the fact that you really want to see him, even if the date isn’t happening. what if we altered the plans a bit and lena can come along? you lie back on your bed looking up to the ceiling with another deep sigh. your phone buzzes beside you, the message makes you smile. we will pick you up at 6.
you finish getting ready and wait down in your kitchen. you see the truck pull into your driveway so you open your door to leave and lock it behind you. pope is there opening the passenger door so that you can get in. you hop up with a “thanks” and he shuts the door behind you. you turn to lena in the back seat. “hi lena how are you?” she smiles at you. “i’m good, we got you flowers. i picked them out.” she’s handing you the bouquet. you gasp at her “you did? thank you, you really shouldn’t have” you say mostly to pope. he looks at you with a smile and starts the truck. you dig through the bouquet for the purple gerba daisy and a few carnations and give them to lena. “here lena these ones are for you” she grins back at you “really?” you nod “mhm, they match your jacket”
pope drives the three of you down to the pier. there is a little food truck show happening and it should have something for everyone. you have lena in your arms reading her all the menus so that she can decide what she wants, all three of you decide the taco truck looks like the best bet so you go wait in line. once you’ve all ordered what you want pope tells you to go find a seat. there is only two chairs so lena has to sit on your lap while the three of you eat. pope offers to take her but you turn down the offer. the three of you have easy conversation as you always do.
midway through dinner you decide to play footsies with pope just to see his reaction, he’s not totally flustered but you can tell you caught him off guard. he recovers quickly equally playing back, you two enjoying this little secret moment. lena spots an ice cream truck and you two conspire against uncle pope to go get ice cream. when your walking over to the truck he says “you know, i’m starting to think you have a bigger ice cream problem then she does” you give him a smile and bat your eyelashes a little neither confirming or denying. pope doesn’t get one again but he plans to steal a bite of yours just because he can.
the three of you head down to the park at the pier with the ice cream lena skipping ahead. pope reaches for your fingers and threads his in between yours. you find yourself sitting close to him on a bench watching lena play around on the park. you watch the sunset behind her as she plays. you and pope having easy conversation while sitting there. it starts to get dark and pope almost apologetic says to you. “i need to get her home to bed.” you turn to him knee knocking against his. “yeah it is getting late.” neither of you make a huge effort to get up. it isn’t until lena comes over complaining about being cold that you all decide to head back to the truck and pope starts the drive back to your house to drop you off.
he pulls into your driveway and puts the truck into park. you turn back and lena has fallen asleep. “see this was the part of the date i was going to let you make out with me on my porch for 20 minutes but someone needs to get to bed.” pope lets a noise from the back of his throat that is a whine mixed with a groan, and you giggle. still your leaning in over the centre console looking into his eyes. he reaches up to pull at the ends of your hair as you two look into each others eyes. both of you looking for a sign that the other doesn’t want this to happen. you both come to a silent agreement that you want this so you lean in and give his lips probably the most innocent kiss you have ever given a boy, let alone a man like andrew, but you could not live with yourself if lena woke up to your tongue down his throat. he smiles into it. “are you being shy?” and you lean your forehead into his chest bashfully. “you know what they say leave them wanting more, so that they come back” you can feel the rumble of his laugh against your face. he pulls your head out of his chest. “i definitely do want more. next time i’m prepaying the babysitter, and i’m holding you to that 20 minutes promised on your porch” lena stirs in the back and you turn to look at her. “okay enough stalling in the driveway, i will let you two get home. thank you for everything tonight, i had a really great time.” he’s smiling at you. “thank you for still coming out with me and my partner in crime.” you smile looking back at lena. “i wouldn’t have missed it.” with that you are finally crawling out of the truck making sure to grab your flowers. you unlock your front door and give one more wave, pope waves back. once you’ve closed the door pope starts the truck up again and drives home, not remembering the last time he felt this content.
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kaiser1ns · 8 months ago
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#. SPEED DEMON
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featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. endo yamato, takiishi chika
fluff. your boyfriend lives for the adrenaline, or in other words, he loves it when you cling to him when he speeds up, or when you put stickers on his bike.
inspired by michael jackson's song "speed demon"
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BIKER BOYFRIEND!ENDO YAMATO
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A dark black leather jacket, with a large white print on the back that was the same as the tattoo on his left shoulder, paired with an obsidian-colored helmet with the addition of a few contrasting Hello Kitty stickers, boots tapping the cemented ground as he leaned back on his motorcycle waiting for his beloved girlfriend to get ready, with another helmet resting on the seat that was the same color as the clouds adorned with black snake and pink bow stickers.
He didn't mind waiting, even though it was late at night but when he got the "I'm hungry" message, he immediately dressed and came at full speed to wait for you in front of your home, and you didn’t even get a text back, because his engine is so loud you always know he is there. Endo wasn't going to lie, it was cold, but he was sure that the moment he saw you, his body would warm up again.
Leaning on his motorcycle, he has his usual laid-back smirk as he glances at the door focusing on the sound of your footsteps getting closer. When the door finally opened, revealing you in your cute outfit for the night, his eyes lit up. His first words, always teasing but you knew he was all bark, no bite. “Princesses sure take a lot of time to get ready, huh?” He pushed off the bike, walking over to greet you when gloved hands cup the side of your face as he pressed a sweet, quick kiss on the lips. It’s soft and delicate, but you know Endo well enough to tell there’s more behind it–more that he’s holding back for later.
“But don’t worry your prince will always wait for you.”
Before you can even reply, Endo drapes his jacket around your shoulders, despite the fact you already had the same, you’d grabbed the first one you found on the hanger. It smelled like him, motor oil and strong cologne. “You don’t need to–” you started, but he was already securing your helmet, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that was the complete opposite of his rugged exterior.
“I know,” he says, “but I want to.” he zips the jacket up, making sure the helmet is tight, but not so tight that it hurts. Once everything was set, you hopped onto the back of the bike, resting your head against him, and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body under your hands. “The best photos I take of us always happen at times like this,” you murmured when he revved the engine and you felt the powerful rumble beneath you as he sped off down the dark road.
The cool wind greeted you both, and you gripped him harder, letting out a scream when he made a sudden drift and he just laughed at your reaction as he pushed the bike faster down the empty road.
When you finally arrived at the fast-food joint, you stayed outside seated on the bike, scrolling through his phone and snapping pictures while he disappeared inside to grab food. A few minutes later, he came back, pulling his gloves with his teeth and tossing you the bag of food before noticing how your eyes were concerted on something. “Baby, you got another speeding ticket,” you said, holding up the screen for him to see. He glanced at it, then shrugged, his hand already digging into the fries.
“Is that so?” the way he replied told you everything–you both knew he didn’t care. To Endo, every ticket was just another excuse for you to hold onto him tighter, no law existed to him. A ticket also meant a free ride to the love island, is what he likes to say. But you as well paid no mind, not when the food you have been caring for was delivered by yours truly. 
“Aren’t you cold?” you were fully covered, with his jacket on top of yours and he was just wearing a black shirt that was clinging to his body, his tattoos on display. "Not when you light up my heart." Always the smooth talker, but if he catches a cold it's on him. Playfully rolling your eyes as you unwrapped the burger and took a bite then offered it as he took a bite as well. You loved moments like this with him the most, just the two of you in the middle of the night, on a cute little date and racing at full speed with the stars.
After both of you were done, getting up on the bike you clung to him again on the ride back. With each mile, you felt closer, the world slipping away as the two of you raced through the night together. He would send you to another dimension, you were sure about that, somehow he always did, and as much as you enjoyed these long rides with no direction in mind your bed was also calling you. 
"Can you stay for tonight?" you'd ask him, leather jackets still on you and how can he say no to you? He will always wait, he will always stay because he can speed up all he wants on the highway, but he will always take things slow with you.
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BIKER BOYFRIEND!TAKIISHI CHIKA
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Tools scattered everywhere, the sound of the rumbling engine drowning out the music you had put on while sitting at the table eating ice cream in your boyfriend's garage. A big part of his time involved maintaining his bike, and you spend hours in that same garage where you have learned a thing or two, but you preferred to watch while he worked on his own for once, without Endo's help. "You missed tightening that part." pointing your finger down on the machine when he gave you the 'don't tell me what to do' look but you were right. He forgot to apply part of the brake and, at the very least, he wouldn't like for something to happen. "And you tell me I don't understand anything... I just saved your life." Taking another bite of the ice cream as you watched him wiping his face with the hem of his tank top showing off his toned stomach suddenly the cone of sweetness fell to the ground making a mess, when he turned to see what was happening he saw how red you have gotten. “You are always making a mess…” raising his eyebrow when he went inside the house to get something to clean it up, well, for you to clean because Takiishi won't bother to. He had always been the calm type, as calm as he can be. So when he stepped outside, his usual indifference clouding his eyes, you saw the perfect opportunity to strike. His burgundy-colored bike stood there, gleaming in the light ready to be taken over. Looking behind your back, just to make sure he was gone, you pulled out a collection of stickers—Sanrio characters, kittens, candy, and the most important ‘I love my girlfriend’ sticker. You were about to press it onto the bike, and you felt a sudden yank on your wrist. 
You yelped as Takiishi's grip tightened, his serious stare making you shiver despite the hot temperature. Uh-oh. You were caught red-handed, with him having that serious stare that meant he wasn't in a good mood. 
"Ta-da!" is all you could have managed to say, voice nervously cracking as you stuck the girlfriend sticker on the bike anyway. The mission failed successfully. But despite that, you knew he was angry, mad even. You knew because his grip on your wrist was getting tighter, and it hurt. "Chika, I-I'm sorr–" you started, and the way his eyes told you he was trying to balance the lines between anger and indifference. Yet, to your surprise, he released you not before he glanced at the peeling sticker and calmly pressed it back on.
You were on the border between the people who stood in his way and those he had to eliminate. Just like a sticker, you had a beautiful design but you won't be peeling out soon from him.
"Ask next time." you blinked at his strange reaction, more so the way he calmly collected his tools and put them in the box. "Huh?" is all you could mutter when he was done and stood up in front of you, and you were slowly melting like the ice cream on the ground.
"Ask me next time." he put something on your cheek before he went back inside and you went to check yourself on his bike mirror. It was a pink heart sticker covered in flames. You were the one who always teased him and did whatever you wanted, and once again he beat you at your own game. Takiishi Chika always wins, no matter who he's up against, and he will do everything for you even if he doesn't voice it, he will prove it after you remove all the stickers of course.
"I removed everything," you muttered, disappointed that the bike was back to its plain burgundy state. You sighed, feeling a little defeated. This is what you get when trying to surprise someone like him with something like that. But much to his dismay he left only one sticker and it was ... 
"I love my boyfriend so much!" You couldn’t help but yell, kissing him on the cheek with an exaggerated and loud “mwah,” you jumped onto his back, wrapping your arms around him as he held your legs. He actually didn't care that you put stickers, he just didn't expect it to be that many. Takiishi showed he cared, even if he didn’t always say it out loud, but the glued label sure did.
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taglist :: @kiurona @nyxypoo @17020 @stunies @maruflix @heartkaji @meidiary @slerixx @kazuhaiku
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
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rafeslvbug · 3 days ago
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CHAPTER 3 - maybank!reader series
overflowing red cups. kooks and pogues mingling. night befallen, surrounded by a bonfire. the boneyard was one of the best places on the island.
jj and kie had run off somewhere. pope and cleo were sharing a drink, john b alone. standing to the side because you could glimpse sarah talking to rafe. both reserved in their own ways. something new, certainly strange.
you peered over heads, climbing onto higher logs to try and find cole. he couldn’t be hard to miss. every kook here had changed clothes, ditching their outfits for something more ‘pogue-like’ but when your eyes settle on the boy who looks more than lost you grin, hopping off the log and weaving through people to get to him.
“cole!” you exclaim, grabbing his attention. you hand him a red cup. he stares into it like there’s some foreign liquid in it, but holds it anyways.
“hey..this place is..” he looks around. on edge. surrounded by people like him but not quite the same.
“crazy? i know! you ever been before?” but you already know the answer - no. of course he hasn’t, he’s staring at it with a mix of fascination and concern.
“no, no, but hey i mean..looks fun!”
“yeah, it does!” you lead him by the hand away from the life of the main party, somewhere he can relax in. away from others.
you can see how his shoulders stop tensing. the little breath he exhales. his back turned towards the party, him facing the sea. and you.
“you certainly dressed for the occasion,” you murmur, looking down at the polo he’s buttoned all the way. he does too, flustered, even more so when he sees your outfit. tiny black shorts, flowy top cutting off and showing your stomach.
“i wasn’t sure of the dress code,” he smiles sheepishly.
“there is none, not really,” fingers travel upwards, deftly undoing his top button before you mutter, “maybe just a little hot for this.”
“yeah..bad choice, huh?” he tilts his head down to look at you and you lift yours up to him.
then you shrug.
walking off, leaving him flushed and trailing after you.
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“are you okay?” cole pulls away, hands still firmly on your hips, on your bed.
“no yeah, just..someone’s texting me i think,” you murmur, pulling your phone out of your back pocket. cole draws you down so that you’re no longer straddling him, now wrapped in one arm beside him as you check your messages.
this had become daily routine. cole coming down to your house now that luke was gone again, make out sessions before jj could get home and chase him out. the bonfire had proven that cole could, in fact, get used to this life. get used to you.
at the country club you’d serve his family all the time, shy waves across the golf course and quick glances while you waitered. in truth, it was much a more subtle relationship than you were used to. keeping it under wraps even when jj knew you were dating him, so there was little to fear. perhaps it was the whispers that went around that made you both a bit discreet at times.
sofia: you free?? that daycare place my little brother goes to needs some volunteers for clean up! they’ll pay double the country club day shift!!
you bite your lip, not wanting to ditch cole but the money would be good. too good. something you and jj needed.
“cole..i think i have to go.”
he furrows his brows, looking down at you, “huh? why?”
“there’s a daycare shift today..and i need the money,” you sigh, forcing yourself up.
“you’re serious?”
“i’m sorry..”
he exhales, brushing his hair back before saying, “you’ve done this three times this week.”
“i know, but..”
“it’s important..okay, fine, want me to walk you down?” he swings his legs off the bed, fixing his shirt collar. he’s slightly frustrated, you can tell. you can understand it, too. but you really do need the money.
“yes please,” you murmur, accepting his hand and letting him lead you down to the daycare place.
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you and sofia drag black bags around the ground, mopping the floors, picking up rubbish, running through bottles of detergent.
“how did they let it get this bad?” the mess around you is consuming. rubbish crushing under your feet. mop buckets quickly drained.
“they had a party..short staff,” sofia scratches the back of her head, evidently as disgusted as you are. the things you do for money.
“so..” she trails, prompting a conversation to fill the silence of picking up litter and wiping down messes.
“so.?”
“you and cole?” she grins, though it quickly fades when she discovers a mound of old wet wipes stuffed in the corner of one of the bookshelves.
“sofia..” you groan, scrubbing down tables with food dried on it.
“i’m just saying! i’ve seen you guys!”
“everyone’s seen us..” you mumble. cole had left after dropping you off to go to some sports club of his, evidently annoyed that he couldn’t spend more time with you. a recurring issue, it seemed.
“you’re cute,” she smiles but falters at your not so enthusiastic hum. “uh oh..not cute?”
“no no! we are, we..are.” you sigh, peeling off your gloves, throwing them in the black bag.
“but?” when sofia knew something was wrong she’d stop at nothing to find it out. luckily, today she needed little probing - you had learnt that it was futile to fight her.
“he doesn’t like that i work as much..”
“but you have to!”
“yeah but i’ve ditched him a few times..”
sofia frowns. “i get it. i had to do that..it’s sort of just understanding. didn’t he drop you off?”
“yeah.”
“so he can’t have that much of an issue!”
“hm i guess so,” you tug on a new pair of the yellow gloves, brushing off crumbs on the ground into the bag.
but you feel anything but.
maybe it’s a contributing factor that you guys are so quiet about your relationship that doesn’t sit right with you. you’re loud. you love loudly. this is more like hushed tones and secrets. but all relationships are different, you just need to adjust..right?
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you’re carrying the bags outside, one in each hand towards the dumpster. then one’s taken from you. whipping around, you’re startled to see rafe there, swinging the bag in his hand.
“what are you-“
“want me to carry the other one?” he holds his hand out for the other bag but you simply shake your head. recently, he’s been less of an ass. rekindling things with sarah means him trying to make amends with her friends. “jesus just let me take it,” he sighs, already annoyed from a minute interaction. not waiting for a response, he snatches the other bag from your hand, walking towards the dumpster.
“hmph, i don’t like this,” you say decidedly, following him.
“no i don’t like it either..” he mumbles, “but sarah wants me to get along with you guys.”
“you’ve been a jerk up until like two weeks ago,” you state. rafe throws the bags inside. turns to face you and gives you a look to suggest he could still be a jerk right now if you don’t just stop talking.
“what can i say? i’m trying to be better,” he drawls, dusting his hands off.
“why?”
“what?” he scowls, narrowing his eyes at you, slightly incredulous that you’re so skeptical.
“what epiphany did you have to make you realise you wanted to be buddies with sarah?”
“i’ve always–“ he sighs. pinching the bridge of his nose. “if you had a falling out with jj..would you still love him?”
you pause. somehow, no one had ever considered that deep inside of rafe there would just be a brother. one who missed his sister. “i guess so,” you murmured.
“right well, there you go.”
a few beats of silence passes between the two of you.
one.
two.
three.
then, “am i your first target?”
“target?” he repeats, “why’d you make me talking to you sound so horrible?”
you shrug, “okay so bad wording. but– still..you get the point.”
his nostrils flare. you’re sure you can see the emerging headache. “yes..you’re my first ‘target’ as you so nicely put it. you gonna make it easy for me?”
“have i ever?” you furrow your brows, waving bye as you turn back towards the daycare. sarah rekindling with rafe was great..for her. kie would probably yell stranger danger if he ever got close, jj, pope and john b would all throw hands and cleo wouldn’t even give him the time of the day before she was shooing him off. you didn’t want to entertain him either, quite frankly.
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8:56pm
just getting back home, you’ve nearly bitten your lip raw, unsure on what to do about cole. picking up your phone. staring at his contact. staring at the empty chat. finger hovering over the text box.
you: cole?
cole: hey
you: sorry the work went over a bit
cole: it’s okay
you: we can hang out tomorrow?
cole: no impromptu work gigs?
the question holds more weight than cole will let on. no more leaving him. no more ditching him for a job. actually spending a full day with him.
you: no..i hope not
cole: 😭 okay then
you: i’m sorry, again
cole: it’s not an issue. don’t worry
you: are you sure??
cole: 10000%
you: goodnightt
cole: goodnight
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10:32pm
sarah: did you speak to my brother today
you sighed as your phone lit up, glancing at it from the bedside table. of course she knew. of course she was checking up on you or him, you supposed.
you: yes, unfortunately.
sarah: so??
you: he wasn’t a major dick?
sarah: give him a chance!! please
you: i don’t want to. he’s annoyed me far too many times at the country club, or in general. and jj hates him
sarah: which is why i need you!
throwing your head back onto the pillow, breathing out a huff. of course she was appealing to you for help.
sarah: jj won’t ever like him, unless you can convince him!
sarah: or you can convince kie who can convince himm
you: that would include me having to like him first.
sarah: okay well maybe not like..but you could..idk try and tolerate him?
you: he’s going to try and talk to me again?
sarah: yep.
you: why did you make him do this?
sarah: you’re my friends, he’s done as much wrong to me as he has you guys! it’s how he’s gonna make amends, and i want to be on good terms with my brother
sarah: i’m begging you
sarah: pretty please
sarah: with a cherry on top
staring at the message for a minute, disgusted by the whole prospect. it sounds hellish. a walking nightmare.
you: fine.
but it’s for sarah.
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taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @supasolaa @octoberbxbyy @rafeobx @jamesbeaufortismylife @vanessa-rafesgirl @bambigirl10 @f4sh10n-m4v3n @amelialovesrafe @letstryagaintomorrow @athenabarnes
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luffington · 1 year ago
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meanie ♡
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➤ summary: Zoro tests out a remote-controlled vibrator on you in the middle of town. (18+)
➤ pairing: roronoa zoro x afab!reader
➤ word count: 2.6k
➤ warnings: voyeurism, semi-public sex, established relationship, degradation, humiliation, fluff at the end, franky being franky, fem terms for reader
➤ notes: i've been thinking about this concept for MONTHS and i finally got around to writing it! might make a sequel featuring sanji.. who knows :3
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
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“What is it?” You asked after several moments of silence, studying the foreign object your boyfriend had placed in the palm of your hand. Bright blue, shaped like an oversized bullet with a slightly tapered tip, coated with soft silicone. It definitely wasn’t a weapon or a tool. Zoro’s matching remote didn’t provide any clues. 
“Something I asked Franky to make.” Zoro answered smugly but internally cringed at the memory. A few days ago, he had approached the cyborg with bright red cheeks and mumbled his request without making eye contact. Franky simply responded ‘suuuperrr!’, and Zoro was still trying to forget the fact that he already knew how to build it. “Wanna see how it works?”
The remote only had three dark blue buttons: up, down, and power. He pressed the latter and you flinched as the object suddenly sprung to life in your hand, vibrating softly but consistently. “It… vibrates? Okay, but what is it used fo–” It finally clicked in your brain. “Ohhh. Oh, Zoro.” 
He mirrored your knowing smirk with his own. “C’mon, let’s test it out.”
You could barely stand the next morning, wobbling along the deck even though the sea was calm. Nami gave you a suspicious look before announcing that the ship was about to stop at a nearby island for a supply refill. 
Zoro approached you from behind, his muscular body pressed against your back. Breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Perfect chance to use it again.”
Your eyes widened. “You mean… on the island? In public?”
“What do you think the remote is for?” He frowned. “We talked about this, I thought you were into it. But if you don’t want to…” 
You shook your head — you definitely wanted to. This was a persisting fantasy of yours, something you’d never admitted to your past partners out of embarrassment. But you trusted Zoro more than anyone. However, touching yourself while imagining the thrill of being caught was very different from the impending reality which made your stomach flutter with anxiety. 
“It’s either in town or on the Sunny. Would you rather maybe get caught by strangers or definitely get caught by our friends?” Zoro added with an annoyed expression, “Knowing my luck, that shitty cook would be the first to notice.”
Okay, he had a point. Not just Sanji – getting caught by any of your crewmates would be incredibly awkward. At least you would never see anyone in town again.
So you let Zoro lead you to the men’s quarters, climbing onto his bed as he grabbed the vibrator from his locker. Laughing as he playfully pushed you flat on your back, slotting himself between your legs and easily pulling down your skirt and undies. He ran two fingers up and down your slit before rubbing your clit in small circles. You bit back a moan – this was gonna be a long day. When you were wet enough, Zoro pushed the vibe snugly inside your pussy.
You expected him to keep going and turn it on, maybe let you cum if he was in an especially good mood. But he hopped off the bed, adjusting his rumpled shirt and leaving you to fix your own clothes. “Let’s get going. I need a fucking drink.”
The two of you had been walking around town for nearly a half hour and Zoro hadn’t touched the remote. You passed a bar fifteen minutes ago and he kept walking – he was stalling. Parading you in front of dozens of new faces and leaving you constantly anticipating the vibrations to start. It didn’t help that he kept his hand and the remote in the same pocket of his pants.
A flashy weapons shop caught his eye. He claimed he needed new materials for taking care of his swords, but you didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he had on the ship. You practically clung to him nervously as he wandered around the shop. He occasionally stopped to study items, seeming a little too interested in a sword that was comically worse than his current ones. 
As he picked it up for a closer look, the toy sprung to life inside of your pussy, causing you to squeal in shock. Vibrations sent shivers up your spine, and you felt a fire ignite in your core just as embarrassment burned in your mind. Zoro turned the power up two levels and snickered when you grabbed onto his shirt sleeve to steady yourself. “Careful, babe, there’s a lot of sharp edges around.”
“I know that.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and shut your eyes tightly. Unable to do anything besides rub your thighs together. The vibrations weren’t nearly strong enough to make you cum, but they were impossible to ignore. 
“The shopkeeper’s looking at you.” Your boyfriend whispered in a sultry tone. “Bet he wishes you were clinging to him instead. He definitely knows how easy you are. How easy it is to get your slutty cunt soaking wet. You just need a pair of eyes on you, huh?”
“You’re so mean,” you pouted, clenching onto his arm even tighter. Zoro turned up the toy another level and you bit back a moan. You hesitantly turned to look at the shopkeeper, a balding man with beady eyes. He seemed skeptical, not entirely sure what was going on, but his lecherous gaze still moved up and down your body as if he were appraising you. 
“Stop staring at my girlfriend, you goddamn creep.” Zoro suddenly growled and grabbed your hand, quickly moving to the exit as you stumbled behind him. The shopkeeper flushed red and opened his mouth to respond, but Zoro cut him off. “All of your swords are fucking awful.” 
You giggled as the door slammed behind you. “Zoro, if you’re gonna get jealous, why are we doing this?”
“I’m not jealous. I’m showing off what’s mine.” He was right – ‘jealous’ wasn’t the best word to describe him, since you made it clear that he had no competition. ‘Possessive’ was more accurate. He’d been like that since the start of your relationship. Always asking who your pussy belonged to, marking you with bruises and hickies, making you scream his name over and over as he pounded his cock into you. 
Thankfully, you had grown used to the light vibrations after a few minutes – Zoro was kind enough to turn the power level down, but didn’t shut it off. The two of you entered the bar you’d passed earlier, a dark and dingy place with about a dozen people inside.
“Hey!” Luffy’s obscenely loud voice rang throughout the building. He waved you over to where he was sitting, the large table already covered in empty dishes. Your eyes widened and you subtly shook your head at Zoro. The swordsman ignored you and strolled over to the bar counter to order two glasses of sake, leaving you no choice but to sit across from your captain. 
Your boyfriend placed a glass in front of you and moved his chair incredibly close to yours, resting his hand on your bare upper thigh. You shifted in your seat — big mistake. The toy was now pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. 
“What’ve you guys been doing? Zoro, I thought you’d come straight here,” Luffy asked around a mouthful of food.
Zoro mentioned the shops you stopped by, casually turning the vibrator much higher mid-sentence. You clamped a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your lewd moan, bending over in surprise as the toy insistently massaged your walls. It simultaneously felt heavenly and sadistic – the unrelenting pressure on your g-spot and Zoro’s big hand tightening on your thigh, clearly satisfied by your response. 
Luffy seemed confused, but Zoro told him that sake doesn’t always sit right with your stomach. Yeah, sure, your glazed over eyes and squirming legs could definitely pass as a stomach ache. Maybe to your oblivious captain, but certainly not to the people around you.
Your boyfriend’s hand moved farther up your leg, sneaking under your skirt to thumb at the waistband of your panties and rub the sensitive skin underneath. The toy got even stronger, probably on its highest setting at this point. Zoro continued his conversation with Luffy without stumbling once, barely glancing at you when you spilled your second round of sake all over your white shirt. 
“What’s wrong with you?” Luffy frowned, leaning across the table to study you closely. You prayed he wouldn’t look down and notice Zoro’s half-hidden hand. “Maybe you should talk to Chopper.”
“No! No Chopper!” You immediately exclaimed, making Zoro chuckle quietly. “I… I mean I’m fine, I’m not sick.”
Your captain hummed in thought, but in typical Luffy fashion, shrugged and said, “Well, whatever.”
Zoro finally turned to look at you with a sly grin. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom to wash off that stain?” You instantly nodded in agreement.
The swordsman shoved you against the wall of a men’s bathroom stall and crashed his lips against yours, devouring your mouth like an animal. One hand held your wrists together above your head and kept you in place as the other trailed across your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits. He delighted in your barely restrained moans and breathy whimpers of his name.
“You have no idea how fucking sexy that was,” he panted against your lips. “You’re so bad at hiding how much of a dirty whore you are for attention. All you need is your cute cunt touched and you’re gone. You probably have no idea where we are right now. The only thing your slutty brain can think about is my cock, right?”
“Yes, fuck, Zoro, I need you so badly.” With a satisfied smirk, he hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down to your mid-thighs. Unceremoniously pushing two fingers inside your hole to retrieve the vibrator. You were so lucky that the bathroom was empty – the noise you made was unholy. 
“Your panties are fucking soaked,” he snickered, admiring the obvious wet spot on the fabric. But Zoro didn’t turn the toy off, simply turned down the vibrations then reached under your shirt and pressed it against your nipple. You cried out again as he adjusted its position so your bra would keep it firmly in place.
Zoro flipped you around so you were facing the wall. He was right – you were much too cockdrunk (and slightly tipsy on real alcohol) to care about how unhygienic a bar bathroom was. You unconsciously wiggled your hips when you heard the sound of his zipper and felt his hard cock rest on top of your ass. He grabbed your wrists again to keep them firmly pinned behind your back. 
“Don’t even need to prep you, I can just slide right in,” the swordsman chuckled. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit teasingly, then shoved his entire length inside you in one rough thrust. You let out a pleased moan, glad that you were finally getting the orgasm you’d been anticipating for at least an hour. Zoro rested his head in the crook of your neck. “You’re so damn loud. We’re still in public, y’know.”
“So shut me up.” You pressed your lips against his again, tongues swirling around each other in a messy dance as he continued to fuck you hard. His cock hit all the right places inside you, the ridges and veins and warmth giving you a more human sense of satisfaction than the electronic toy ever could. It still buzzed away against your nipple, which was almost painfully stiff at that point. Zoro panted heavily against your mouth – riling you up inevitably got him riled up, and he was just as close to hitting his peak as you were.
The bathroom door opened.
Both of you froze. Your entire body went as stiff as a mannequin, too afraid to even breathe. Zoro narrowed his good eye and listened closely to every single footstep, door creak and ruffle of clothes. There were three bathroom stalls, and the stranger was courteous enough to use the one farthest from you, leaving an empty one in between. Once he was sure that the person wasn’t a Straw Hat, Zoro’s hand moved from gripping your ass to cupping your face, silently pushing two fingers between your lips. You gagged around them anxiously.
“Now we really gotta be quiet,” the swordsman whispered directly in your ear. You didn’t have time to question what he meant before he slowly moved his hips back, his dick pulling out of you inch by inch until only the tip was inside of you. He pushed back in just as carefully, the quietest smack of skin as his hips met your ass echoing in your racing mind. The stranger heard it, you knew he heard it. Zoro shifted again and you shook your head in protest, but he just pushed his fingers farther down your throat and continued to fuck you. 
The sound of a toilet flushing made you jump. Zoro’s hips moved in slow circles and grinded his cock against your walls, deep and deliberate. You heard the stranger unlock his stall and turn on the sink outside. If he glanced in the mirror, he would definitely see two pairs of feet pressed together underneath your stall. Your pussy clenched at the thought, causing Zoro to grunt quietly.
As soon as the bathroom door swung closed, Zoro pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and you gasped for air. “Good little slut listened to me for once,” he chuckled and resumed his previous brutal pace, thick cock filling your cunt so perfectly and prodding at your cervix. 
“Fuck, I’m so close…” You whined, feeling drool drip down your chin.
Zoro promptly reached underneath you to massage your clit. “I’m right there, too, baby. Cum for me.” His words – his permission – brought you over the edge. You saw stars and really tried your best to not let the entire bar hear you. Moments later, thick spurts of cum coated your insides, Zoro biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own satisfied groan. 
You stayed pressed together as you both caught your breath, his cock still snugly inside you. “Zoro, the vibrator–” He had clearly forgotten about it, but there was no way you could ignore the incessant buzzing against your practically numb nipple. He instantly fumbled to grab the remote from his pocket, finally shutting the toy off.
“My fault,” he mumbled apologetically. Letting out a content sigh and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know I’m an asshole, but, uh, thank you. For being so good to me.”
“You’re not an asshole,” you frowned, gently rubbing the top of his head. “I’m the one who asked for this. I like it when you’re a meanie, and I like that you like it, too.”
He grinned and nuzzled into your touch, prompting you to pull him even closer. “Is there a difference between an asshole and a meanie?”
“Of course. I would never date an asshole. Just a guy who fucks me exactly how I want it.” You giggled to yourself. “We’re going to a clothing store before we leave, by the way. You owe me a new shirt.”
When you exited the bathroom, cheeks still slightly flushed and dry sweat on your temple, Franky had stolen your chair at the table, sitting across from Luffy and chugging a bottle of cola. He spotted you two and immediately gave you a big thumbs up, shouting “Yow!”. Both of you blushed furiously — so much for avoiding getting caught by your crew. Perverts recognized perverts, you supposed. 
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago
Text
reckless
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words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, male receiving oral, aged up!rafe (28), age gap (reader is 20), reader kinda dumb and stupid tbh, breaking and entering but actually technically she didnt break anything so just entering, urban exploring
“stay away from that house.” your friend warns, following your eyesight to get light shining from only one window, the rest of the house covered in shadow.
“why?” you question, curiosity growing.
“some asshole lives there. i guess he got real rich when he was young and now he spends all his time inside hiding. the whole island hates him but nothing he did was bad enough to land him in prison…” your friend gives you a serious look. “or at least nothing they can prove.”
you're new to the outer banks, but she already knows your personality. you're defiant and confident, afraid of nothing.
it's why despite her warnings the next night you're scaling up the fence and hopping over to the other side. you note the well taken care of yard, whoever this guy is must still employ a lawn crew.
you keep your footsteps light but unhurried as you walk around the exterior of the enormous house, still just the one window with a light on, like no one else has been in any other part of the home for a long time.
you figure a house like this might have security, but you live only a block away and would certainly get to your house before any cops would show up.
you peer in a few windows, but it's too dark inside to really make out anything. you make your way into the backyard, looking down the long dock to see a yacht. you consider exploring that first before shaking your head and focusing back in on the house.
in your old city, you had a habit of breaking into places. not to steal or damage anything, just for the thrill of getting in and looking around, knowing you're not supposed to be there.
you peer in through the glass doors. it's not that late, only 11pm, but you figure the old man who lives here must already be upstairs and hopefully asleep as you grip the handle.
you wait to hear an alarm from just your touch, but when the house remains silent, you attempt to turn the handle, surprised and happy that it's completely unlocked as you slide it open.
you step into the living room, looking around at the intricate and clearly expensive decorations. your friend was definitely right about this guy being rich, but of course he is if he lives in a neighborhood like this.
“damn.” you mutter to yourself, stepping closer to a fancy vase sat on a table. you purposely leave the glass door open in case you need to make a quick escape out.
your eyes take in every piece of art hung on the wall and gold detailed lamps as you head further into the house, peeking into rooms as you quickly map out the layout. you note the stairs in the center hallway leading up, able to tell there's one light on and deciding quickly to avoid it.
you make like the rush of breaking into places, but you certainly don't like getting caught as you tiptoe into the kitchen next. out of pure curiosity, you open a couple cabinets to find them well stocked.
you focus in on the fridge next. you don't intend to steal but maybe this guy has a couple bottles of beer that won't be missed.
you frown when you realize it's mostly healthy food and energy drinks as you close the fridge, practically jumping out of your skin when you realize there's a tall man with his arms crossed, leaning against the cabinet.
“what are you doing here?” you yell, backing up and putting the island between you and him.
“bold of you to ask me that considering you're the one breaking into my house.” the man's voice is easy going and gentle despite the circumstances.
“your house?” you look the guy up and down. “i thought the guy who lived here was old.”
he moves to the island, placing himself directly in the middle so you can't bolt away, a movement you're very aware of.
“and what made you think that?” he questions. it's hard to tell in the low light, only the faint glow of buttons on the fridge and a bit of moonlight creeping in, but he looks young. your guess is late 20s or early 30s, not like the senior citizen you were picturing.
“my friend told me some asshole-” you cringe at the bad choice of words but continue on. “lives here who got rich when he was young.”
“hm, yeah that does sound like me.” the guy hums. “so what, you were gonna steal from me?”
“no.” you quickly shake your head. “i don't steal, i have no need. i just… like urban exploring.” you decide on saying.
“mmm, isn't that usually exploring abandoned places?” he questions, somehow still carrying on the conversation so naturally, like you're an invited guest rather than a trespasser.
“i thought this place was basically abandoned. like i said, thought you were old.” you shrug.
“well, im only 28, so if you consider that old.” he crosses his arms, muscles bulging.
“im 20.” you say, swallowing thickly. 
you can see the gleam in the man's teeth as he smiles. “interesting… come with me.”
his command is so effortless, you find your feet moving before your mind catches up, following him deeper into the house and up the stairs.
“what are you going to do with me?” you ask, worrying he's going to call the cops. your parents would be pissed if only a week after they move you out of the big city you get arrested again.
“did your friend happen to tell you why i stay in this house?” he hums, opening a door and beckoning you in. you quickly realize this is the bedroom with the lights always on.
“um, just that you did something and no one likes you.”
“that's exactly right, even though i did nothing wrong. i only ever wanted to protect my family.” you see anger briefly take over his features as he relieves whatever memory that made him so hated. “but still, it's hard being lonely.”
he takes a couple steps forward, swinging the door shut behind him to keep the two of you in there, alone. “it's why id like your company…”
“y/n.” you mumble your name. you don't bother to give a fake name.
“y/n.” the name rolls seamlessly off his tongue, like a purr. “im rafe.”
“what do you mean by company, rafe?” now that you're in the light and can get a good look at him, you're hoping it's what you're thinking.
“isn't it obvious?” he quirks his head to the side. “i want you to sleep with me.”
“okay.” you whisper. you're certainly not inexperienced or against sleeping with random guys, even if your friend did warn you about him. you've already gone two whole weeks without getting anything, and you're starting to feel a little high strung.
“perfect.” rafe crosses past you, placing himself on the edge of the. neatly made bed. “undress.”
his command is once again so simple and effective that your hands begin moving instantly, pulling off your tank top to reveal your bright pink bra before sliding your shorts down next to show off the matching underwear.
you turn your back towards rafe and look over your shoulder as you slide your panties down, revealing your bare ass and pussy before kicking off your sandals. 
you walk over to rafe slowly, a smile on your face as you undo the last piece of clothing covering you and let your bra drop to the floor.
“fuck, you're sexy.” rafe leans forward and grabs you, hands gripping your ass, squeezing the plump flesh there. he doesn't bother to wait for you to recover as he sits you onto his lap, cunt being pressed into his thigh as his mouth devours yours.
you can feel his need in the kiss, how starved he is from touch as you begin to kiss back, hands rubbing all over his front.
you only briefly stop the kiss to yank his shirt off. you're not surprised by his muscles, you could tell how perfectly built he was even in the dark kitchen.
rafe begins to slide your pussy against his pants, wetting his thigh as your clit drags against the material.
“fuck, you're already so wet.” rafe moans into your mouth. you don't pause to tell him that you always get a little bit wet in excitement when breaking into a new place.
“let me blow you.” you slide off, already missing the feeling on your pussy as you pull at rafes pants. he lifts his hips to help you and you waste no time, pulling his underwear down as well.
rafes cock pops up, hard and ready for attention. you push his thighs open with your hands so you can nestle between his legs, smiling as you watch a bead of precum from before licking it clean.
“god.” rafe groans, a hand fisting in your hair, tangling his fingers into the strands. “it's been so long since someone else has touched me.”
you feel bad for rafe in that moment, but it's quickly forgotten in favor of wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and giving it an intense suck, wanting to show him a truly good time.
you begin to bob your head, slowly taking more and more of his length into your mouth. he's not the biggest you've ever gotten with, but his girth certainly makes up for it as you get used to him pushing at the walls of your throat.
you'll certainly need more attention to your pussy to be able to take him as you reach down and rub your fingers against your clit, wanting to jump on his cock the second you're done blowing him.
“how are you only 20?” rafe asks, talking mostly to himself considering your mouth is occupied. “you suck dick so well.”
you don't want to comment that you've had lots of experience, but you have a feeling he won't judge you for it. so many guys sleep around yet want every girl to be a virgin, and that's certainly something you don't subscribe to.
with a final push, you're able to take rafe all the way down as you nuzzle your nose into his skin, gagging slightly but able to hold for a decently long time before you need to pull off to take a deep breath.
“come up here, baby.” rafe says, tugging your hand that isn't still playing with your pussy. “want to fuck you.”
you wipe your mouth before standing up, glad you weren't on your knees for long as you move onto the bed.
“fuck me good, daddy.” you purr out, staying on your hands and knees and swaying your ass to entice rafe as he moves behind you.
“oh, i will baby.” rafe rubs his cock through your folds, not bothering to offer to put on a condom when you so clearly don't care.
rafe teases you, pressing slightly against your entrance before going back to rubbing against you until you're frustrated and aching. you're about to open your mouth to complain, to tell him to hurry it up, when his cock plunges inside of you in one quick motion that has you screaming out.
“oh, fuck!” you squeal as rafe instantly begins pounding into you.
rafe smiles as he looks towards the window, slightly cracked. he hopes the neighbors hear your screams and moans of pleasure and learn that he's not just willing to stay inside for the rest of his life. no, rafe is crafting his revenge against the town and when the time comes, they will all regret the way they treated him.
rafe looks down at you as he thrusts into you, your head hung forward and curls bouncing with every movement as he punishes your cunt.
“shit.” rafe groans, pulling out to quickly flip you onto your back.
his mouth meets yours just as his cock reenters you, kissing you wildly while he thrusts without abandon, letting himself loose on you.
rafe can feel himself swelling inside of you and tries his best to hold back from cumming, fingers reaching to your clit to focus on your pleasure before his own, wanting to extend this as long as possible.
“god, you feel so good.” you moan out, jaw slackened even as rafe continue to kiss around your mouth, eyes glossed over in pure pleasure.
“yeah?” rafe smiles. “you gonna cum for me?”
“mhm. keep- keep rubbing.” you tilt your head back as he swipes over your clit, back and forth, building you up while his cock fills out your insides.
“come on, baby.” rafe moans out, kissing you again, unable to stop even though he wants to hear your moans. his hips move faster and faster until he can't hold back anymore, pulling out and releasing all over your stomach in long ropes.
you squeal out as he pinches your clit, triggering your own orgasm as your entire body shakes, back arching off the bed.
“fuck!” you shout. “rafe!”
you both flop against the mattress, breathing heavily as you recover, pussy dripping wet onto his blankets.
“thanks for the company.” rafe smiles, causing you to laugh.
“yeah, always happy to stick around.” you giggle, leaning into his side. there's certainly no shame cuddling up to him after what you just did.
“would you… would you come back tomorrow?” rafe asks, pushing a strand of hair off where it was sticking to your face.
“first week in a new town and i already found myself a fuck buddy? hell yeah ill come back tomorrow.” you kiss rafe quickly before standing up off his bed, putting your tanktop and shorts back on but leaving your wet panties and bright bra on the floor.
“but have pizza, im a classy girl after all, i only let you fuck me once before buying me dinner.” you walk out of the bedroom to rafes deep chuckle.
1K notes · View notes
callme-holly · 4 months ago
Note
can u perhaps write an enemies to lovers fic w darry and greaser!reader who rolls w the shepards or some other gang or smth and is not intimidated by darry whatsoever, instead just teases n pisses him off in a very “you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” way iykwim. THANK U im obsessed with ur fics the way i sprinted to send this when i saw ur requests open
𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
[𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]
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a/n: i love love love this omg. im obsessed stop
You were the last person Darry ever saw himself falling for, the last person he should ever be considering getting involved with, getting flustered by. You were trouble through and through, the only girl running with the Shepards; someone he knew he should stay away from and yet he kept being drawn back to you. 
You knew it too. You knew he was addicted to you, knew that he liked you more than he’d ever let on, and it drove him fucking insane. You’d flash him sweet little smiles, teasing him with sultry comments that had his heart thudding and all the blood in his body rushing south. 
He tried so damn hard to ignore it, to push aside the feeling everytime time it arose in his chest. But everytime you so much as looked at him, he wanted to kiss you until you shut your pretty little mouth. He hated that he craved your attention; he was a man who had control, not some desperate, needy teenager in love. And yet the tension between you two never eased; in fact, it only got stronger. 
It had always been clear to most of the greasers in Tulsa that the Curtis' door was open to anyone when they needed somewhere to go. You weren't exactly desperate; you had no reason to let yourself into the home, none at all, and yet you did anyway, walking in like you owned the place, that casual smirk plastered on your face, your hair falling in a way that drove Darry insane. 
He looked up at the sound of the door slamming shut, prepared to scold whoever it was---but his breath caught in his throat the moment he saw you, and all he could manage was a pitiful little huff of air. You glanced over at him, eyes brightening knowingly.
"You should really shut your mouth, Curtis. You look stupid." You brushed past him and made your way into the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge to grab yourself a coke. Darry followed after you, stunned into silence for a few seconds, before he seemed to get a grip, crossing his arms over his chest and straightening up so that he's towering over you.
"I told ya about slamming the door."  He growled, and you rolled your eyes. "What're y'doing here?" 
You cracked open the can, the fizz filling the room as you took a long sip, watching him through your lashes. He tried to ignore the things it did to him, focusing on his anger instead of the need clawing at him. "Just visiting. Didn't realise the door wasn't open no more."
"Don't get smart."  His voice was low and dangerous, and you just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"You don't scare me, Darry." You set the drink down on the counter, hopping up to sit on the surface. "In fact, you're not exactly intimidating when your face is flushed red."  You flashed him a coy smile, batting your eyes innocently at him . "Maybe you should go get a cold shower, huh? That'll help cool you off."
"Shut up." He snapped, stepping towards you. He was suddenly glad no one else was home, that no one would see him getting so worked up over simple teasing.  You snorted softly, leaning   against the kitchen island. 
"Just admit it, Curtis. You wanna kiss me so bad..."   You trailed off, your tongue swiping over your lips playfully, "Anyone can see it."   Darry swallowed heavily, his eyes roaming over you quickly before looking back at your face. He scoffed. 
"Youp're fucking stupid," he growled, his voice a low rumble in his chest, and it made your stomach flip. He stepped towards you, his arms caging you in against the counter, and your eyes flickered down to his lips,  a slow smile pulling at your own. 
"Not stupid enough to fall for you, Curtis." You whispered, before closing the distance between you both, your hand slipping into his hair, tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. It was fervent, a clash of  teeth and tongues that left them both panting against each other when you pulled away, a grin still firmly affixed on your face. Darry's hands were on your hips, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles into your skin, and you found that you didn't mind the touch; in fact, you revelled in it. And that seemed to satisfy him.
"Still not fallin' for me?" He teased, and you hummed, tilting your head as his lips made their way down the side of your neck.
"Never in a million years." 
But anyone who knew you well enough knew that wasn't true at all. Because you were fucking stupid, and you had fallen for Darrell Curtis. 
And he knew it. 
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unveranosinseb0514 · 11 months ago
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Jenson Button: Tv Time
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Pairing: Jenson Button x F!reader
Summary: You and Jenson decided to watch a movie together on the couch but things take a different turn and he seems to be interested in something else.
Tw: Minors dni!!!! 18+ Only, Smut, fingering (f receiving), cum eating, Jenson's a bit whipped, teasing (it's Jenson, y'all), a bit fluffy, a little praising, it's kinda...descriptive, sub!reader, dom!jenson, think that's all for now, let me know if i'm forgetting something.
Words: 6k (something around that)
Masterlist
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You slowly walked down the stairs, after getting settled in a room between Sebastian and Fernando, knowing that there you could sleep without any noise bothering, both are extremely silent, so it's about to feel like heaven sleeping next to them, it's been a few weeks since you're having a light sleep, any noise might wake you up, and the other two are kinda loud even without meaning to. Suddenly, you stopped at the last step of the stair, catching a glimpse of the last beam of sunlight on the sky, smiling gently.
The house was on the best position on the top of the hill, being relatively high as well, so you could clearly see the sun touching the green hill from the distance, you always appreciated little things and little moments like this, and was tempted to hop on the kitchen island to observe the spectacle of nature before your eyes when you heard a familiar noise coming from the living room. "Sponge Bob...?" You commented quietly to yourself, making a face, walking slowly on the polished floor, the flip-flops doing the minimal noise.
The television was on with Button thrown on the couch, the hand on the remote control, while on the television, Sponge Bob made Krabby Patties. The show was ending but you saw enough to bite your lip and trying to prevent a laugh from getting out, it was an adorable scene, he sure looked bored, not with the cartoon though, every now and then he let out a few smiles or laughs, he was indeed watching.
"Am I disturbing your cartoon watching section?" You asked, laughing a little and taking steps forward, next to the sofa, he quickly turned his head on your direction, bearing a smirk that made you mirror his, it was contagious. "Y/n my darling, come, sit here" the older man said, patting with his slightly heavy hand on his side on the sofa, letting his arm above the backrest, indicating that he wanted you close, and you did that slowly, sitting there comfortably, didn't even had time to adjust, the man quick pulled you closer with the arm that was extended behind your head before, making you let out a squeak, laughing slightly, and seeing him smiling because of the surprised sound you let out.
"I hope you like cartoons, because that's what we're going to watch" Jenson was paying attention to the television with the same smile on his face.
"It's not that i have something against it, but it's so cute to see you watching" he just let out a chuckle, squeezing you to his side, but still, eyes glazed over the screen, giving time to observe him a little, your head on his shoulder, the strong arm behind your back, keeping you practically 'stuck' at his side - not that you complained. The beard was a bit thin, messy, he had some freckles, some gray hairs here and there, his expression lines became more present every time he moved his facial muscles a little....but that only made him more attractive in your eyes, not forgetting his incredible sense of humor, of course. So entertained by the man that you hadn't even noticed that something else started on the television.
Feeling his muscle close to your arm, he still raced at WEC, needing to maintain strong. "You're staring love" the older said next to your ear with a teasing smile on the lips, caressing your arm up and down, the only reaction you could have was to be out o words because you wouldn't thought he would notice, the cheeks warming up a bit and goosebumps down your spine.
Looking at the man's face like an idiot for a few seconds, he knew exactly what he was doing, and while watching, he could feel your eyes all over him, it wasn't that subtle. "I only got distracted! Sponge Bob hasn't held my attention since I was 10" you said playfully, giving a gentle slap on his chest, but he was eyeing you with a small smile, ready to tease "Yeah...but Sponge Bob finished a few minutes ago, the movie now is 'The Incredibles', what's your next excuse now?" His tone was cocky, like someone who just won an argument, that ended up leaving you once again without having anything to say, you took a glance at the television and he was right, at least 20 minutes has already passed since the movie started and you were completely lost in daydreams of his beauty, but luckily, he ended up laughing and seeking the remote control to you "I'm just teasing, silly, here, choose whatever you want"
He had a slightly tender smile on his lips now, staring while keeping you close, and like anyone else who's not boring, you did enjoyed cartoons from time to time, but it sounded more easier lie than just admit that you've been admiring the brit.
You took the remote, not that you were very interested in anything that was on television with this man by your side, but you decided to give the screen a chance, changing the channels until an horror movie came, couldn't quite recall the name, but seemed better than the cartoons.
"a horror movie? You like that kind of stuff?" The man asked, laughing, slightly ruffling your hair at the back of your head, not enough to make you annoyed.
"a lot, to be honest" you said smiling, snuggling right next to him, laying the head on his shoulder in a comfortable way.
Having you close like that made the man let out a light sigh that he didn't know he was holding, almost relieved of having you so close, looking at you more interested than what was going on the screen and you didn't even notice, slowly looking at your whole face, the way your eyes were expressive, the nose slightly raised, cheeks that seemed soft just like the rest of the skin, and naturally pink lips that he so wanted to taste despite the fact that in the back of his head there was still a small voice reminding him that maybe he shouldn't do that, so he cleared the throat quickly and shook his head, trying to pay attention to the movie and take you out of his thoughts.
Listening to the sound he made with his throat, you looked curiously but he was already watching, deciding to just stay quiet and do the same. In practically 15 minutes of film, Jenson did something he always does to distract himself from the thoughts who were still lingering on his mind: talking and being playful.
"nope, you're gonna die" he said shaking his head in the scene where one of the characters went to check on a noise in the house "why are they always so stupid? Of course if you hear a noise in the dark in the middle of the night you'll see what it is" saying as if it were obvious people won't do that, with a tone of indignation while shaking his head, you could only leave a smused smile on your lips, and as soon as the girl's screams were heard while the killer caught her. "Oh, see? Nothing good would come of a noise in the middle of the night in the house"
"And you're telling me that if you heard a noise here in the middle of the night, you wouldn't check it out?" You questioned crossing your arms and arching one of the eyebrows in a playful way.
"I'm curious, but not dumb, I would probably send you or the other boys" he said laughing and squeezing you
"Oh what a gentleman! Honestly even Fernando would go on his own" you blurt having fun, Fernando was known for prioritizing himself too much on the tracks - which is already expected of a driver, but he was a little more -, which It's nothing like the man he is outside of them, but you knew Jenson was just joking.
"and he would be the first to die, love. In the attempt to be the Knight in the shining armor, who does he think he is? Don Quixote? The Spanish version of Lancelot?" You let out a genuine laugh as he chuckled quietly, enjoying seeing that you were amused by his sense of humor.
"Now that you mentioned it, he would look really good as Aramis...or Athos...but you do know that the name of Don Quixote is Alonso, right?" you say slowly, biting your lip at the image, Aramis was the real Don Juan of The Musketeers, so it would probably suit him better, but your thoughts were interrupted by the small shove the older one did playfully to your side, as if he was jealous...and probably, deep down, he was.
"Hey, I'm right here, just because I wasn't the knight? It was a joke...in reality I wouldn't let anyone check and we would all jump the window" he said, burying his nose in your cheek, making you laugh, lightly slapping his thigh which he pretend it hurt, complaining and making a face, stroking there, straightening the legs in a relaxed manner after, he hadn't even noticed, being already used to being spacious, and even if it was tempting the way his big thighs were a bit stiff in this position, he was too relaxed.
"As if your knees could handle this and it's no use, this manspreading won't work on me" you teased him by giving the legs a little push, and only then he did realize. "oh shoot, sorry love"
It was apologetically while closing his legs a little, you were just joking, since you were practically glued to his side, it didn't bother you much, but it was certainly a distraction.
"let's just watch the movie? We've already missed a lot of things" he suggested, and laughing you agreed, as soon as you both snuggled up properly, finally paid a little attention to the plot unfolding on the screen.
Jenson seemed to have other plans, of course he enjoyed your company, to have you close, but he's been seeing you differently lately - not just him -, and having you so close, on the couch, wasn't helping at all with these thoughts he shouldn't have about it, he actually thought about watching the film...but maybe the timing was too perfect for another thing. Slowly, while pretending to pay attention to the screen, he began to gently stroke your arm caressing it while, and since you're watching, it didn't bother, to be honest, it was a welcomed affection, all the men in this house have always been affectionate towards you and the British man is no exception. His fingers slowly felt the softness of your skin, the heat, just below the sleeve of the sweatshirt you were wearing, it was one finger, then two, three... and when you realized, he was caressing and warming you up with his hand, long enough to look at his large hand for a few seconds, which despite its size, had a delicate touch, and the size had a slight contrast with your arm, ending up blinking a few times, quickly looking at the television, not letting the thoughts went where they shouldn't, but the scene in the movie wasn't helping.
The couple was kissing slowly, both sitting on the couch - which seemed like fate was trying to be funny -, the boy slowly put his hand inside the girl's t-shirt, slowly lying down on the sofa, usually this type of scene didn't even affect you, but there was something about the slow kiss, the light smiles at each other, carefree, without knowing what awaits them, the touches that seemed so real that they made you adjust a little on the sofa, letting a low sigh when the boy slide himself between the the girl's legs, you had no idea why a scene like this was affecting you so much, enough to make you have to move, several films had sex scenes...apparently, not like this one, which didn't go unnoticed by the man next to you, he looked slowly for a few seconds, from head to toe but then shifted the gaze at the screen again, and as if he didn't saw anything, still caressing the arm, he used his other hand to make a small caress on your thigh, his thumb slowly moving up and down on the fabric, of course the scene didn't help with what Button was already thinking, you were feeling the tension in the room increase, and for a few seconds you wondered if that was really happening, it was as if he was testing the waters... and actually was, he wanted to know what your reaction would be, if by any chance you would hit his hand or he would get a slap in the face and hear that he's being disrespectful, that you are not ready for any of this, which he would respect and give you space, but you were already starting to feel slight shivers, a certain anticipation in your chest, so you slowly turned your face, watching the man who feigned interest in the film at that point. Thinking that maybe he wasn't just being affectionate as usual. With some shyness, feeling the great, not so intoxicating perfume of the older man, you got close enough to leave him a kiss at the base of his neck, when you realized that the man hadn't moved away or said anything, you gave him another kiss slowly above the other, and one more, which made him humm, adjusting a little on the sofa and sliding his hand from your arm to waist, making a small caress there, his hands in a sneaky way touching the skin there underneath of the hooded sweatshirt, making you relax a little, the feeling of his hand there scared at first because you weren't expecting it, but his touch felt good.
"can i ask you something, darling?" The voice was low because you both were close, slowly facing him after that. "you just did, but go ahead" your tone was playful, which made him leave a smile on his beautiful lips, and for the first time looking a bit serious, which made you feel your cheeks heating up, your shoulder was leaning against the taller one's side, close enough, the tension palpable.
"have you ever...touched yourself?"
The question was personal, your cheeks gained even more color, probably should have already expected at this point that it would be something like that... but perhaps the fact that you had never talked about it out loud with anyone... left you embarrassed, even more so being with him, even after what you all talked about in the kitchen...you wouldn't get used to talking about it out of nowhere, so you just let out a blushing laugh. "You know that...just as you have... desires... I also have... but I never... put my fingers inside, I was afraid it would hurt" you admitted somewhat ashamed, which he let a chuckle escaped, using his hand that was previously on the thigh for your hair, slowly adjusting it, caressing your face with his knuckles right after, knowing that this had made you slightly shy so he tried to comfort with the touch and a careful smile. "Really? Those tiny little fingers?" He teased, reaching for one of your hands and making you open it, placing your palm on his hand, the difference appearing immediately, his fingers were bigger, a little thick... which was to be expected, but that made you playfully roll your eyes and intertwine your fingers.
"Ha ha ha, tiny compared to yours!" You commented, laughing slowly, the tension was still there, for a few seconds you just stared at each other, the older man's hand still gently caressed your waist.
"You're right...so what do you do then, huh? Play with your clit?" He whispered with his face close, your face coming alive again at how direct he had been just now, just letting a small smirk appear on your pinkish lips. "That's a bit too much information"
"alright...fair enough, let's put it that way, love...what if i say i want to touch you? What if i say i can make you feel good and show you that it doesn't have to be painful?" You remained quiet while the man gave a proposal, to be honest, deep down inside you didn't need to think, the answer was a solid yes! but something made you hesitate, maybe the size of his hand, which would be in unexplored parts, but the desire to have him touching you was greater, so you simply nodded, agreeing. "I need to hear you."
"yes...just don't get too ahead of yourself" you said, to which he just smiled and nodded slowly, understanding what you meant by that.
He slowly slipped his fingers further inside your sweatshirt and blouse, making a lazy caress, he slowly approached your face and began to kiss gently, wanting to relax you, when the kisses reached your neck, you couldn't help but let out a sigh, closing eyes and tilting the head to the side, giving him more space to explore the neck, after all, it was a sensitive place, and it sent goosebumps through your body, while the man's hand continued to feel the skin of your stomach, moving up gently, lightly touching the underside of your breasts, which made you adjust a little, slightly impatient to have him touch where you wanted, which didn't go unnoticed, he let a low laugh come out, biting your neck near your collarbone, making you whimper. "Impatient are we?" Joking, he plastered a somewhat smug smile on the lips, you were about to complain when his fingers slowly entered your pants, your hand grabbing on the same arm that kept you pressed against his side.
Butterflies hit your stomach at the new sensation of someone else's hand in such an intimate place, but as soon as the older man started playing with the hem of your panties, you almost gasped, of course you were comfortable with him, you felt comfortable enough to let him do what no one has ever done, because you trusted him...still, it's not like you're used to that kind of touch.
"Relax..." He whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck to distract just a bit, already feeling your skin a little hot, the slick between your folds dripping slowly on your panties, and that only with his touch and teasing. Button liked how sensitive to touch you seemed to be, and as much as he was tempted to just slide his fingers in and finally explore what he wanted so much...he enjoyed teasing and didn't wanted to overwhelm you all of sudden.
The film, long forgotten on television, you couldn't even hear anything other than your heart beating strongly - almost in your ears - and the breathing of the man close to your neck as he gave light bites and kisses. His hand slowly slid past the hem of the panties, all below your clothes, and those seemed to be becoming too hot as the minutes passed.
"Hey, Hey, Look at me" he asked with such a low and soft voice to hear, and slowly you did so, he took a few seconds to admire with an intense look, your eyes were half-lidded, the pupils starting to dilate, temperature a bit high and breathing slightly faltering, he had a half shit-eating grin on his face from seeing how little things affected you, but that was probably because it's him, it would be difficult not to be affected by everything he does.
With no time to waste, he kissed you, slowly, carefully, successfully distracting you from his two fingers that crept closer to their destination. You relaxed too much into the kiss, taking one of your hands to the older man's face, slowly pulling closer, caressing his facial hair with the tips of your fingers. A long, calm and patient kiss. Him, taking advantage of the fact that you were distracted, didn't miss it, gently sliding his colder fingers between your pussy lips, rubbing one of them on your clit for the first time, which made you moan softly in the middle of the kiss, not expecting the touch.
"shit... you're really wet" he voiced out, letting a small laugh escape, surprised.
Seeing him speaking so confidently while letting his fingers explore your pussy made you feel a pulse there, which he certainly felt too, your clit already throbbing, begging for attention after such light touch.
"J-Jenson" you moaned softly against his lips after the kiss with his fingers moving slowly and delicately, as if he wanted to remember the feeling of sliding his digits in such a warm and wet place, especially tight, what he felt when sliding his middle finger up to your entrance, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves with his thumb while the other pressed just a little on your glistening entrance, putting just the tip of his finger inside, already feeling how tight it was, which made you moan his name again and tremble slightly from the new sensations, he couldn't help but let out a groan that was on the back of his throat.
"that's right baby, say my name" he whispered close to your lips and placed a few kisses on your neck. As the seconds passed, you only got wetter, his touch was so careful, the caress was precise anyway, you knew he could make you Come lazily and that would still bring tears in your eyes from the intensity.
You tilted your head back a little, squirming, crying out small moans on his side with him flicking your clit a bit faster now, spreading a few times your inner lips to slide his big digit against your entrance, just teasing and sometimes pressing there but never putting in too far, as much as he was just tempted to shove his fingers into you with how wet you were, coating him slowly with your juices, what you both knew by the sensation and the slick noises it made because of the friction. This was getting too much for him, he started to play with your clit even more, your legs shaking slightly with the sudden change of pace.
"I'm gonna put one finger inside, okay?" He whispered with the breathing a little messy, almost as if asking for permission, and you couldn't respond properly, so with your eyes almost closed you just shook your head quickly, letting him do it.
Calmly he pressed his thumb on the most sensitive place while pushing his coated middle finger inside you, only stopping when his first knuckle was inside, and immediately he felt the velvet walls gripping his finger like it longed to be filled by something.
It was a strange sensation for you at first, after all, you had never dared to put anything in there, and even though Button's fingers were a little large, the feeling was far from uncomfortable, at this point, oddly enough, you already felt a slight warm sensation in your lower belly, and as soon as he started moving his finger slowly and your moans became a little louder and more frequent along with the squelch noises being more present, he couldn't take it.
"alright, i need to see you baby, fuck, i need to see that pussy, i bet it looks so beautiful all wet for me" he whispered somewhat desperately, breatheless still, as he used his other hand to hurriedly pull down your pants, you raised your legs a little, slightly trembling, to help him.
Despite everything you were already doing, hearing him talking like that made your face heat up, it seemed so shameful.
He threw the pants away, letting out a small growl when the big wet spot on your orange panties appeared, which he quickly discarded on the floor as well, and in one swift move he manhandled you to sit on one of his thick thighs, keeping your back pressed against his chest, not exactly sitting but in a position he could look at it closer and better. "keep your legs spread for me baby, that's it" he asked, slapping your thigh twice without much force, the man's breathing was almost the same as yours, but he couldn't help but let out a groan seeing the treasure you had between your legs, made his eyes shine, tempted to just throw you on the couch and eat you out like it's the last thing he'll do.
Mesmerized, letting his fingers slide to your glistening pussy, welcoming his already slick fingers so easily, it was shining in the light, his fingers seemed big there on the same espace, only then you realized the mess you made with just his touch, while releasing whimpers, your cheeks grew even hotter.
"baby look at you... God you're soaking, so fucking beautiful" he said in a low tone, still admiring you, now that he could see what he was doing, everything had become better.
"J-Jenson...baby please...please touch me" you begged in a low voice, thrusting your hips a little, to make him slide his finger where it was before
"what? I'm already touching you, love" he teased, pressing and rubbing in a slightly mean way, with force, his thumb in your little bundle of nerves, your body gaining a jolt of pleasure that made your legs shake and you moan his name, feeling the smile on the older man's lips who loved to tease you, and as much as you wanted to slap him to make make him stop that, your mind was more focused on begging, you never needed someone's touch as much as you do now.
"Goddamn, please!...please...want your fingers inside...so bad" wiggling softly on his thigh, he let a low chuckle and just as you were about to ask again without any shame in begging for it, he placed his strong arm under your breasts, keeping you pressed there while holding the hem of your hooded sweatshirt and without much delay he pushed his middle finger against your entrance, this time putting it all the way in, making you squirm but he held you with some force, not letting you move too much.
In meantime he was moving his finger, nothing too strong or forceful, but fast, which made you moan a little sweet and louder, forgetting that you weren't alone at home, but it was difficult to control, the feeling was so good, you squeezed a little more the arm that was around you, with your eyes closed and head leaning against his warm body. Without any warning, he slowly introduced another finger, both his middle and ring finger knuckles deep inside you by now, and because of the size, you thought they might hurt, but you were wrong...oh you were so wrong, it only gave it more pleasure, made your legs shake for the dozen time.
He moved them rather quickly now, as you felt the pressure in your lower belly increase, the British bit his lower lip slowly, closely observing how your body reacted, he relished the fact that he was the one doing this to you, leaving you all warm, red, sweaty, wet and sensitive, begging for his touch, getting lightheaded, things you're experiencing for the first time in the best way, you were never this helpless when you touched yourself.
"Look at that...fuck... you're dripping, you're taking my fingers so well..."
He praises close to your ear, leaving a slow bite on the earlobe, extremely concentrated on the movements of his own fingers "Open your eyes, look at the mess you're making, or I'll stop"
He demanded on purpose, his voice was soft but you knew he would stop, he could see how difficult it was to keep your eyes open from the pleasure so you forced them to stay like that looking down, his fingers appearing and disappearing inside you in a quick pace, the wetter you stayed, the more the sounds seemed so erotic, the most sloppiest sounds ever, your juices were literally dripping down and wetting his sweatpants by now, which made you a bit embarrassed but he just loved the sight.
"Good girl"
Obviously that sent a wave straight to your core, making you squeeze his fingers tighter inside, which he definitely felt and made him laugh next to your ear "hum, do you like that darling? Of course you do...you like when i praise you huh?" His tone had a bit of mockery but amusement as well, he enjoyed that fact, enjoyed how much power he suddenly had over this, over your body, over your incoming orgasm.
"P-Please...please more...f-faster" you whined between the moans, it wasn't enough to make you reach the edge with the pace his fingers had now, but it was enough to make you cream everything, and the older man decided to give you some relief, thinking that he had already provoked you too much for a first time, and suddenly curved his fingertips, reaching an area he hadn't touched yet, pressing the tip of his fingers on that spongy side against your walls where nobody had ever touched, not even you, and that made almost a wave of pleasure go through all your body that made you bite the hand so you don't moan too loudly.
It felt wonderful, he knew he had found the right place with his hands, that seemed to be so skilled, and soon enough he was pumping his fingers relentlessly, pressing down that place like a button everytime, making you almot putty in his arms, a moaning mess by now, your eyes closed, whimpering incoherent things, the man whispering some sinful things on your hear just to feel you grip his fingers harder because he knew exactly what made you clench your walls, what made your legs shake and you adjust on his lap, and when he started to also press the palm of his hand on your clit...almost made you come right there.
All the sensations were practically overwhelming, you were almost over there, the pressure in your womb a bit too much to hold it in, the wave was coming slightly faster with everything he was doing down there, and he knew it. "You're close, aren't you, pretty girl?" He whispered in a tantalizing way, but you couldn't speak, only moan, mutter a few sweet "please"'s but you shook your head quickly and desperate, that was all he needed to press his palm even more on the most sensitive part between your legs and move the fingers a bit harder, almost making you cry out, shaking all over, on his lap, your breath faultering, it was coming and it was coming hard, you never felt anything like this in your entire life, it wasn't the usual sensation of an orgasm...that time it seemed like it had more.
"Alright, come for me love, come on, you deserve it, you've been such a good girl"
And you didn't have to be told twice, just letting be drive over the edge with his fingers, you moaned louder when the orgasm finally hit, him having to slide his free hand to keep your legs open since you tried closing them by the intensity, but what actually surprised you was seeing you squirt on his hand and his pants, wetting everything, with him groaning and praising you afterwards, and if you thought you were a mess before, you should see it now.
It was so intense that your whole body was shaking, breathing was uneasy, face was red, the body was a little sweaty, while the Brit had a satisfied smile on his lips, his cock stiff in his pants because it was so goddamn hot to watch you unravel with his fingers and on his hold. He kept moving his fingers slowly to let you ride it out your orgasm, and when you finally stopped, spent, he took out his fingers carefully, hearing you whimper because you got a bit sensitive, because of the loss of contact too, not hesitating to simply suck his fingers, humming while he said so "you're delicious love, do you want a taste?"
You just opened your eyes lazily, adjusting your head closer, kissing his lips, gently and calmly, putting his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself there, turning it into a wet kiss but still in a way, careful. He knew you're a bit shaky after what happened, wasn't thinking straight...in fact you weren't exactly thinking at all. It took all his strength to not simply bury his head between your legs to clean you with his tongue, but you were already too sensitive, he did slide his fingers on your folds one last time, which you let out a small sound, almost protesting, his touch wasn't harmful though, he just wanted to taste you a bit more, sucking his fingers glistening again, making your face warm a bit more...jesus, he really enjoyed that...he looked like he had just tasted the sweetest thing ever and he couldn't get enough, you could clearly see on his expression that, the satisfaction after what he has done.
You felt him hard close to your body, and before you made any movement, even if tired, about to help, he quickly adjusted your position carefully and placed you back on the couch, lying down this time. "but...Jens-"
"no, no, everything was about you today, don't worry about me, relax baby, you seem tired" the man said in a soft and calm voice, his accent making your heart flutter a bit.
He got up only to grab your panties and pants, he seemed a bit out of breath...it was kinda intense for him as well, not the same for you of course, but it did made his breath faulter. He made a small caress on your waist while carefully dressing you, your legs were a little wobbly after the orgasm, and he remained there until you seemed to have returned at least a bit to normal, having the hair adjusted by him, slowly, while he looked a bit tenderly, it somewhat made you feel warm and fuzzy inside...it was intense but it had a caring touch. "That was...so good though..." You blurted out, a little embarrassed but with a satisfied smile on your face, your breathing still returning to normal, heart returning to it's normal frequency, and for him, seeing that you enjoyed yourself was more than enough to make him happy.
"I'm glad you enjoyed, darling... because i really, really did" He sent you a wink, making you scoff in a funny way, taking off your hooded sweatshirt with his help because the body was too warm after the activities you just did, staying only with your blouse.
"believe me...i know you did" you joked, both of you laughing relaxedly now, like good friends who clearly seemed to have something going on between them.
"you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?" He was serious now, eyeing you for an answer, giving him a smile, you just shake your head in a negative way before answering properly.
"No Jense, it was awesome, it did leave me a bit lightheaded, didn't thought it could be that...intense, but i'm okay" you assured him, giving his hand a light squeeze, and only when he saw on your eyes you were actually okay, that he saw you were being sincere. "By the way...i'm sorry about your...pants" you whispered gently, shy when you got a proper glimpse of the big wet spot on his thigh, but he smiles, looking down, rubbing his fingers there.
"You should already know that I don't mind...plus that was sexy as hell" he made a voice deep and sighed like he almost got turned on talking about that, you couldn't help but laugh and turn your head to look away, trying to not stay too shy. "alright! I get it..."
The man arranged a pillow behind your head, lifting your legs so that they were in his lap, starting to deliberately massage there while he watched you, comfortably in silence. Jenson was simply sweet, and it was so good that you didn't even feel like talking about what just happened, about what meant this that both of you did in the heat of the moment, but there wasn't an ounce of regret in him or in you, so maybe it would be better to wait for another day, you' didn't want to disturb the peaceful moment between you two...you didn't felt like you had to question that now...you both shared something intense and intimate, it should be simple...but you'll probably wonder why later.
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tinyraptorhands · 22 days ago
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Glasses
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Your eyes? They hurt. Your contacts? Done.
As a pro hero in training, contacts were a must-at least, that's the excuse you gave your parents.
Lets be real.
You wanted contacts so you didn't have to wear those stupid chunky frames constantly, so you could easily put on make up and of course...
So you didn't look like a huge-ass nerd.
But today was a Sunday, and your prescription wasnt coming in until the next day. And your eyes needed the break.
You woke up, slipping on your glasses, blinking at the adjustment. You sat up slowly, looking to the side at your vanity mirror.
Ugh.
It was like you regressed in age, back to your old middle school self.
You hopped out of bed, getting ready for the day with your daily routine.
Hopefully no one would make too much of a fuss...
As you stepped off the elevator, you walked over to the kitchenette near the common room.
"Woah."
You heard a voice behind you, and you turned.
Kirishima stared at you, mid bite into his banana. His face was a light red. "(L/n)? You look..." he trailed off. You frowned.
"Like a nerd, I know." You said quietly. He shook his head violently.
"N-no way! The opposite!" He swallowed. He was quiet for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts. "You're actually...really pretty." He avoided your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.
You blinked. A blush creeped over the apple of your cheeks and across the bridge of your nose. His eyes flicked up. "N-not that you aren't pretty as usual! Its like...a-a different kind of pretty! I can't explain it but..." he dug his hands in his basketball shorts, smiling bashfully. "Yeah..." He trailed off.
His words settle in your gut like hot lava. "You...think so?" You unconsciously adjusted your glasses, the fluorescent lighting winking off the glass. He nodded.
"Yeah, I...I wouldn't lie about that." He gave a shy smile. You gave him one back.
It felt like your friendship with the sharp toothed teen shifted.
You didn't mind that in the slightest. "Thanks, Kirishima. That...means alot to me." You looked down, a soft smile forming on your face, your blush deepening. He looked suprised for a moment, then broke out into a grin.
"'Course! It wouldn't be manly of me to not say something, y'know?" His hands shifted to his hips, and he looked proud; "Cause Red Riot wouldn't let the prettiest girl in class not know-"
"Prettiest?" Your face turned redder. He suddenly blinked, realizing what he had just admitted.
"U-uh..." he flushed, and soon his face really fit his hero name. "I...I mean....yeah, I-I do. Think that, I mean." You heard him audibly gulp, his confident demeanor suddenly taking a back seat. "...Should I shut up before I admit something even crazier?" He rubbed his neck again.
"...I mean. I think any girl would like being complimented like this." You grinned, leaning on the kitchen island. "But I would love to hear what else is going on in that head of yours."
He looked down, and took a few breaths.
You cocked your head.
Jeez. Whatever he has to say, it must be bi-
"I like you." His expression looked like he had snipped the wrong wire to a bomb, waiting for it to detonate.
You blinked.
He continued, "Like, romantically. I...I really, really like you. And I hope I didn't screw up anything by revealing that." He took a breath. "You can tell me to shut up and screw off, or call me a creep, I don't mi-"
He was cut off by your lips pressing against his own. He made a small grunt of suprise, and before he could enjoy it, you pulled away. Your face was red as a tomato.
"...Does...that answer any doubts?" You asked softly. He nodded, his brain static and tongue cotton. You giggled. "Good. Now...glasses on or off?"
Kirishima's gobsmacked face turned into the biggest grin you ever saw, cheeks ruddy. "Why not try both?" His hands slipped to your hips, and yours draped around his shoulders.
"I can do that." And you leaned in once more, lips connecting.
It wasn't too much of a coincidence that you wore your frames a little more often-because a certain crimson hero certainly wasn't complaining.
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((Wanted to try writing for my second favorite character. Hope I did him justice!))
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