jrwi-rat-bracket

[atanx]

So I've been playing a lot of DBH and I have stuff on my mind. For this post: why is the Revolution written Like That??

This has probably been rehashed a lot when DBH actually came out but I'm playing it now and want to add my mustard to this all.

What bothers me about the Revolution route is that it's portrayed pretty negatively. Characters like Rose say that they don't like what Markus (or North I guess) is doing and overall there's not a lot of acknowledgement of the fact that there kind of isn't another choice.

Like yeah, in game there is, but if you look at things from a realistic perspective the humans are putting androids into concentration camps and systematically genociding them. The peaceful demonstration is the naivest shit ever and they can count themselves lucky it succeeds in game. Like yeah, let me just march to our deaths and let countless androids in the concentration camps die while I get myself killed instead of trying to save as many lives as possible by launching an attack.

Like I am convinced that the only reason the demonstration (or revolution for that matter) wins is because Connor pulls up with a fucking army and the authorities go like oh shit. I guess it goes differently on machine!Connor runs, I haven't done one yet, but I can't really see how. Like at the end of the demonstration less than thirty androids remain standing. If Connor didn't bring the thousands of androids from the Cyberlife tower they would have been crushed.

Like, I did a playthrough of: steal truck without being detected. Stratford tower with no human casualties and "calm" message. Pacifist strong message during store raid, sparing the cops. Freedom march with running away. Like from Markus' POV he tried everything. He's been peaceful and the humans are still set on genocide. Doing the same thing over and over expexting a different result is the definition of insanity or whatever. Here, public opinion changes but public opinion is already pretty much useless in real life.

And the Revolution ending... maybe it's just because I failed to save Simon and also Kara was at border control and not in the camps, but it felt unfulfilling. Like it had the same result as the demonstration but also Josh is guaranteed dead because he's really bad at fighting but still comes with to launch a fucking attack.

Maybe it's also that the Revolution has a pretty different gameplay section. It's not just all QTEs you also have to look around and shit, and I don't think it's bad?? It was just so different that I felt overwhelmed and like I didn't really know what was going on. When I'll play it again I'll prob like it better. Like you have to look at a fucking grenade or some shit to save Simon what the hell.

North's revolution was more fulfilling, since it was just epic cutscenes, (and Josh died in Jericho for some reason Connor can't save him even though Markus can and Connor can save all the same people BEFORE-) but unfortunately not enough people were alive so North ended up dead and then Connor was alone and yeah suicide time because Amanda sucks.

Uh. Spoiler warning I guess.

Yeah idk I feel like you should be able to get a best ending with the Revolution. Because the demonstration is the most naive ass bullshit and if that can succeed so can fighting.

Also I know Connor is busy corralling thousands of newly awakened androids into walking in a perfect grid formation for dramatic effect and intimidation factor but I still feel like he deserves a piece of the action!!

[bangcakes]

.

[bunnyb34r]

Huh... apparently my dr forgot to send in one of my meds TWO WEEKS AGO and I didnt notice til now... that explains why I've been so irritable and anxious 🙃

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintarou suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

[yeyinde]

stalker!Simon decides to have a little fun with his favourite camgirl.

the message comes up halfway into your "show."

it's a boring night. slow. you wear a lingerie set one of your viewers sent in beneath a silk robe, all in a pretty pastel pink—cliche, but it works; an uncomfortably disgusting version of hair theory unfolding in front of your eyes—and discreetly chug wine when you twist away to grab a new toy. a series of pale pink vibrators, nipple clamps. mundane depravity for what's shaping up to be a lacklustre night.

but the money that pours in from these little shows (adult version of classic party games—hide and seek, would you rather, truth or dare) is one step closer to erasing your debts. student loans. car payments. rent. you smile so wide it aches, and put your best face on when you blink, coquettish and coy, at the camera where nameless, faceless men throw money in a ring for a scrap of your attention.

tonight's game is Simon Says. and it's supposed to be normal. boring.

but a message from a viewer named Simon (in a sea of many who cheekily changed their usernames to match the theme of the game) stands out.

Simon says... go lock your door.

you blink. between all of the Simon Says touch yourself for me baby, pull your shirt down, lemme fuck you for real it sticks out. a change in the routine.

you huff, pouting. "already did that, Simon. c'mon, gimme something else to do, honey."

another one pops up. Simon says... you shouldda got a dog.

your brows furrow. "that's not part of the game, Simon. i'm gonna move on—"

Simon says... open your door.

he's paying you handsomely. dropping coins, large amounts of money, for each message to shoot to the top. little superchats. why he isn't taking advantage of it and paying you to do something sexy, something lewd, unnerves you. your heart starts to race, thudding against your ribs almost painfully.

it's fine, you think. he's just a creep. a loser. "uh huh, not part of the game, Simon. i'm afraid i'm gonna have to cut you off—"

you block him. they don't normally get under your skin like this. ever. at all. even when they throw random names in your dms, hoping one of them happens to be yours, and try to blackmail you to your fake friends and family. it doesn't bother you as much as this. as him. get a dog. how absurd.

the next series of chats pass without the same odd comments. take your bra off, but leave the robe on. act coy, like you don't want to—

creeps, you think, in their own right. but. paying ones. so, you smile. stiff. uncomfortable. grinning so wide it hurts. pretending to ignore the strange unease growing in your guts. your eyes sliding back to the superchats saved in a glowing log. let me in. a troll. whatever. it's nothing. nothing. you'll drink wine after this, scrub your skin raw in the shower and buy yourself something pretty with the money these greasy losers threw your way—

Simon says... let me in.

you feel your heart in your throat. it can't be him. you blocked him. you have mods to keep trolls out of your chats, but wonder—hopefully—if maybe it failed. maybe they found your stream are just being weird. strange. but when you check, the filters are on. he's a registered user. paid the premium to watch you. to get an invite to your special game nights. it makes it worse, you think, that he paid to be here. to do this.

your hand shakes. you block this user, too, ignoring the discomfort churning inside your chest. the fear spiking along the nape of your neck. hair raising. there's a prickle on your skin. the feeling of being watched

no. it's fine. you're fine—

"ah, what else should i do, Simon?" you ask your viewers, pulling on another smile. one that hurts. aches. wobbles around the edges. you'll end the stream in a few minutes. order Thai food. drink yourself stupid. take the day off tomorrow. use this creeps money and waste it. blow it on something stupid. dumb. laugh about it with your friends.

your shoulders dip. the tension easing. you're fine. you're at home. the door—

you locked it. right? you definitely, absolutely, locked it when you brought in the package from the delivery driver. the massive, hulking man who loomed in your doorway, too wide, even, to fit inside, and growled out in a low, brassy timbre: sign 'ere. you took the pen, pretending he wasn't drilling holes into you with his gaze, eyes liquid in the dark. intense. wanting. and then scurried inside—

back pressed against the door, hands wrapped around the lingerie set.

you glance at the chat. "which Simon bought me this cute set? i'd like to thank them personally," you murmur, forcing your shoulders to drop. it's fine. you live in the middle of nowhere. no one is coming to your door.

there's no takers in the chat. you shift on the chair, licking your lips. "it's really cute, Simon. a perfect size, too, and i just—"

something catches your eye in the corner of the monitor. a movement. a slight shift. a whisper of fabric. you tilt your chin, peering into the hazy black reflection.

what you're looking at doesn't make any sense. your bedroom door is open. a curtain of black drapes over the wall where the pale strip of light doesn't reach.

the washroom light is still on, a yellow spill illuminating the hallway, but nothing is there. no one is in the hall. but you know you closed your door. you always do when you stream. your heart trips over itself. leaps to your throat. you almost choke on it—

another bubble pops up. Simon says... hey. uh, who is that guy behind you?

there's a ringing in your ears. your hair stands on end. something moves again. the black mass wasn't a shadow. it moves. takes shape. the covered head nearly reaches your ceiling, body filling the entirely of your room. massive. a mountain you remember thinking. a fucking mountain, you texted your friend. thighs the size of tree trunks—

a hand reaches out, grabs hold of your power bar. thick gloved fingers curling over the button. in the bluegreen glow of your computer screen, a man steps out.

"glad y'liked it, pet." the deep, brassy drawl sends shivers down your spine. you try to scream, mouth opening wide to choke it out, yell for help—

your chat bubbles up, feverish in their excitement. you skin through the messages, stomaching churning as it clicks in your head. their rabidness isn't about saving you, but—

(omg he's gonna fuck her pron??? we're getting pron????? no fucking wayyyyy god i wish it were me—)

this isn't a fucking bit, you morons, you want to howl. call the fucking police—

but he gets there first. two strides. it happens in a blink. the screen goes back and he's on you in seconds.

you're not even sure how someone so big, so heavy, could move that quietly—

"ah-ah, none o'tha' now," his hand curls around your neck, tight. choking. you try to fight but he just huffs, breathing in deep, chest expanding across your spine as his other hand snakes around your waist, trapping you against a corded forearm. he bends down, nuzzles his jaw into your crown. coos:

"Simon says... turn around for me pretty girl, an' be good, now. went through all this trouble t'find you. think i deserve a little reward—"

[heavenbarnes]

The way olderbf!simon and reader met is so cute even if it’s cliche, because I don’t see that man interacting with anyone unless he’s forced to lmao. If you’re up to it, could you maybe do a drabble on how the beginning/talking stage of their relationship goes? This man probs has to rehearse what he’s going to say 25 times (literally me) and still fumbles over his words but reader is still just 😍 yes this is the man I’m going to marry

they definitely needed a meet cute to me cause honestly? where are their paths ever going to cross without manual intervention? 🫶🏼

after you get that “it’s simon” text from older bf!simon it’s you that actually has to make the first move.

that’s not to say he doesn’t text you or anything, god when doesn’t he text you?

at all odd hours and just about anything-

“at the supermarket”

“what you watching? i’m watching top gear”

“what’s your favourite colour?”

“i’m at the gym”

you were a little confused at first by how abrupt and to-the-point his messages could be.

and then you remembered that this was the same guy who prefers a grunt to the common conversation, he probably thought he was doing great.

so when you were getting in your own head about why he hadn’t asked you out yet, you also remembered that this was the same guy who thought he could fuck up a cappuccino.

he was probably- scared?

whatever it was, you realised if you wanted to see him as bad as you did, you were going to have to pony up and ask yourself.

“did you want to maybe get dinner sometime?”

he called you.

no sooner had the ‘seen’ shown up, he was calling you.

“uh, hello? simon?”

“are y’forreal?”

excuse me?

if anyone else had asked you that question you probably would’ve scoffed and hung up.

he was lucky he was so hunky.

and subtly insecure.

“yes, i’d like to get dinner with you”

he paused, a quiet moment passing between the two of you with only a little shuffling in the background of his line.

and a little shouting in the distance.

was he on base?

“yes please”

you’d been a little distracted trying to pick any little bits of information you could (more than just his favourite colour, it’s green by the way) that you didn’t get his response.

instead, you hummed a little ‘huh?’

“i’d like t’get dinner with’ya, yes please”

“oh- great, i can text you some details?”

“yeah, i’d like that”

you weren’t really sure how to end the call or why he’d even called in the first place- but he wrapped it up with a few mumbles.

“jus’ wanted to hear y’say it, wanted t’make sure”

he shows up at dinner without a mask on and you’re sure you’re staring up at him like he’s made of moonlight but you can’t find it within yourself to care.

fuck he’s handsome.

and broad, the buttoned shirt he’s wearing just stretches over his arms where he’s rolled the sleeves to his elbows.

borderline pornographic.

you try to shut your own mind up, realising all the man’s done is open the restaurant door for you and you’re literally have salacious thoughts about him.

have some decorum!

he pulls out your seat for you but insists on sitting with his back to a wall and a line of sight to the door. you don’t mind, it means the light behind him virtually makes him glow.

fuck he’s handsome.

his voice is so deep you have to lean in on the table to hear him and all it means is you can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of him.

when he locks eyes with the waiter he does a subtle little flick of his fingers and the man’s heading right for him- he really exudes an air of dominance.

if you don’t marry this man you might die.

he asks you a lot of questions and seems genuinely surprised when you ask ‘and you?’ after every one.

surprised that somebody would care.

he answers with an endearing honesty and you feel all the better for knowing he prefers tea to coffee and starts his day with a cold shower.

his hand fidgets on the table part way through dessert and you have to ask what’s wrong.

“y’got a little somethin’ there”

he gestures to the corner of his mouth. it isn’t lost on you that his fingers immediately go back to flexing around the table cloth.

your hand doesn’t even move to wipe your mouth, your eyes soften just a little as you speak instead.

“you can get it if you want?”

his heart all but stops.

big hand rising to your face, fingers cupping your jaw as his thumb wipes the smudge of cream from the corner of your mouth.

he brings his thumb to your mouth when your tongue peeks out to lick the tip of it.

simon’s knee hits the underside of the table.

and you giggle.

fuck he’s handsome.

reluctantly, he lowers his hand but leaves it on your side of the table so you can hold it. his skin feels rough but he thinks it’s never been softer than when you’re holding it.

you both opt to walk home (hand still in hand) and you’ve never felt safer. you spend the entire walk talking about nothing and everything and you could scream when you end up at your front door.

it does allow you both to linger, neither one of you wanting to call it a night quite yet.

simon seems good at lingering, at yearning, at putting off what he doesn’t and does want.

so, like you were the one to make the first move-

you’re the one to make the second.

(his tongue feels great on yours)

you go to bed alone that night and it makes the most sense but it also fucking sucks because you know-

you know what you want.

and what you want is currently walking home beneath streetlights with the biggest smile he’s had this side of enlistment.

you accept the fact you’ll need to take things slow, that he obviously needs time and a lot of reassurance and you’d hate to push him too far with your own desire and-

and your phone buzzes.

“coffee tomorrow morning?”

“yes please”

the talking stage really doesn’t last long.

not when you’re kicking your feet in bed and hugging your phone to your chest.

not when johnny texts simon asking how the date went and he’s responding ‘not bad, might be in love’

talking stage doesn’t last long but everything else does.

it’s simply a doorway into a long and happy life.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny I was wondering if I could get a Boston cream pie with coffee and mocha coffee with dark!lando maybe? Thank youuu

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love receiving all kinds of requests! thank you to everyone who had sent something! i hope you enjoy this, especially the one who submitted it! thank you all and enjoy! <3

boston cream pie ("yeah, i'll use protection.") + coffee (rivals au) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dark-ish fic, dark!lando, breeding kink, rivals au, mercedes driver!reader, lying, no protection, mentions of pregnancy

you were a level headed driver, you came down that track like lightning and even when things went south, you kept your cool. you never got snippy on the radio and even when you loss the race, you dealt with it with total grace.

you were a good sport, congratulatory towards whoever was on the podium. as a result you were a darling on the track, especially to the media. the first woman in decades to race with the big leagues. you were sweet as honey to everyone, or so it seemed.

everyone except when you went toe-to-toe with lando off the track. your hands dug into the front of his t-shirt as you said to him, "how dare you, norris."

"aw, what's wrong, princess? did you break a nail?" lando didn't make it any better, leering at you as you held onto him.

this was a common back and forth. the snapping of jaws between you two. lando looked at you with a healthy smirk while you got right into his face. oscar piastri once described it as watching you two fuck without the 'fun' part. he also suggested that you two found other ways to take all the stress out.

"no. you played dirty today, norris. you know, mclaren's strategy isn't playing mad max fury road all over the track!" your hands held deeper into the shirt. you swore you could feel his quickening heartbeat.

lando made a face at you and said, "then if you can't handle the heat... get off the track... i bet you'd do lovely in craft services... or maybe you could be my assistant." he licked his top lip, "my logo all over your pretty tits, but you know i like my cum on them better."

your cheeks went hot as you pulled him closer to you, your foreheads almost touching as you glared at him. "you are a sick fuck, lando."

lando got his arms around you behind and gave your ass cheek a squeeze, "and yet... you can't get enough of me."

you both heard a loud groan from behind you, you both looked over and saw oscar standing there with his hands in his pockets. he took a hand out and scratched the back of his head. this wasn't the first he had caught you, he was used to it at this point.

"uh.. hey. the press are going to be in here soon. so unless you want to make national news. i suggest you." he pointed to you, "get back to your team and we." he pointed to lando, "have to do an interview."

you pulled away and said to oscar, "thank you, mate." before you 'accidentally' stepped on lando's foot as you headed out of the room. that night you'd get a text message with a location and time. and the message 'wear something orange', which you never complied with. orange made you feel less like a sex symbol and more like the fruit.

but a short black dress would work just fine for the evening.

you were a normal sighting at the hotels that mclaren were staying at. while you tried to cover up that it was all purely platonic, they knew. your team knew, lando's team knew. teams that weren't involved knew. you were certain even teams not in formula one knew. but, yet you went to the hotel room and knocked three times in quick succession.

lando opened the door and got a good look at you. he said, "i asked for orange."

you got past him, "i prefer mercedes black. feel like it highlights me better." you said as you got inside the hotel room, "bed? couch? don't tell me you want to do it on the floor."

he chuckled and closed the door before he came to you. he was dressed casually. sweatpants and a black t-shirt that highlighted his toned frame. he followed you as you sat on the edge of the bed to get your heels off.

he sat beside you, up against you with his large hand on your soft thigh. he kissed at your neck before you even had the chance to get undressed. he sighed against your scent.

"beautiful as always."

you took him by the jaw and looked him in the eyes. it was a dangerous glance. even without the make-up wore off the track, you looked beyond beautiful. lando once said that they should make you the trophy, come out in something skimpy. that earned a death glare from you before lando made it up to you with kisses along your thighs.

"is it a crime now to state the obvious? i thought you were all about telling the truth." he said as you held him. his words were silenced when you pulled him in for a tender kiss. he made a soft noise against your lips as you invaded his space. it felt good, it felt right.

like two magnets come together. opposites that pulled together. his hands were soon on your shoulders before you pushed him back into the bed. when he pulled away, he said, "let me on top. i want to see that face." then started to undress himself with you beside him on the bed.

"yeah, no. you're just going to make fun of me. remember you said once when i orgasm i look like i ate a lemon. it's doggy for me tonight."

he chuckled, "whatever the princess wants." he beamed at you.

you looked at him. a knowing look you've given a million times. with you soon naked, your breasts capturing his attention fully that he barely noticed the expression on your face. you coughed into your fist and looked at him.

he looked back at you before he said "yeah, i'll use protection." you two may had been playing a risky game over the last few weeks. using the pull-out method was dumb, but it wasn't like you two carried condoms around.

in all fairness lando could've been a gentleman and bought some. but, he lied to you about having them. his mind was somewhere else. lando norris wanted you pregnant. keep you off the track, but still in his life. be easier to get a hold on you when your hips got a little softer and soon you were taking care of a norris baby.

he was lucky that tonight you wanted doggy style as you wiggled your ass to him enticingly which made his heart rate skip. you were a real siren's call, he could imagine you on the rocky shores of england singing your siren's song. but usually in those tales, the siren doesn't get pregnant so... maybe it was a little different.

"got the condom, norris?" you asked as you pressed your chest against the soft bed. you held over the pillow under your head and pressed your cheek against it.

"yes." he said, "i got it." his cock was bare and the tip was leaking. he stroked it a few times and admired your naked body in front of him. he shifted a little bit on the bed before he nudged his cock up against your slick entrance. it was a familiar feeling, he had become hooked on you like an itch he couldn't scratch unless he was balls deep inside of you. and he thankfully was able to scratch that itch as he sank into you.

your back arched and your short nails dug into the pillow under your head as your back was curved more as he invaded your space further. you didn't even notice that he wasn't wearing a condom. you moaned as he started to thrust up against you. it felt really good, you hated to admit it. but sex with lando was always good and it made your brain sometimes go blank in the rush of pleasure as he moved against you.

he was good in the bedroom, if only he was as good on the track. then maybe mclaren would have their winner. but that snarky comment died on your tongue as you felt his cock prod some of your softest areas.

lando was on cloud nine, he always was when he got to fuck you. it was like a jolt to the system that made his nerves feel alive. but not in the way that anxiety did. he wanted to jump your bones and keep his thick cock inside of your sweet pussy. he wanted to cream in it so badly, he wanted to make a big mess of it.

make sure that no other man could have you.

maybe his breeding kink was running strong after today's race. he could feel it all the way in his balls as he rutted against you. you felt like a dream as he moved. he wanted you pregnant, you'd make the most perfect mother to his children. he came from a big family so he was hoping for at least four kids with you. he'd make sure that he'd get a nice place for all of you to live in. you'd be a nice little family.

his little rival becoming his wife. the thought excited him as he rutted against you. his heart beated wildly in his chest, his lips found the back of your neck, which caused your to moan and tense up around him. that felt good, it only encouraged him to keep doing it. feeling your slick hole clench around him.

"you feel amazing. so good around me." he pushed into your harder, "fuckin' hell. he swallowed, he felt himself starting to lose a bit of control as he really worked your body. it felt so good, especially without a condom. the rubber stopped him from feeling all of his future wife. that was your new name while he was in a state of heighten euphoria.

you came quickly with your back arched. your groaned into the covers and clawed down the soft comforter. you felt everything kind of go blank for a moment. the only thing that left your mouth was his name. first name and last name. and how you said it made him move even further. and when pleasure struck him, he finished inside the back of your soaked cunt.

he then trailed his blunt nails down your back, hoping to leave deep red lines come morning. a little reminder of him as if his cum stuck to your cunt wasn't enough. but your over stimulated body made you jerk a little bit and moan a little louder into the bed. you looked good face down ass up.

lando slapped your ass before he pulled out and watched your hips drop to the bed. you were out for now, but lando was certain that with a few strokes of his fingers and his mouth on your breasts, he could at least get another round out of you. even as you laid panting on the bed.

after all, he had a baby to make with his little rival.

-

you held that trophy over your head. you could've yelled in excitement. but instead you grinned. you were almost moved to tears, but you held them back. even in the face of victory, you had to show strength. a history maker as the cameras flashed.

you were beyond lucky. the blood tests from the recent evaluation hadn't come back yet before the last race of the season. you knew what formula one didn't know. you were pregnant.

nothing noticeable yet. everything ailment was pinned of the anxiety of performing well for the final race of the season. you held the world champion high over your head. in the coming weeks the media storm around your pregnancy will come to light.

you felt on top of the world as your national anthem played, hand over your heart as you felt the soar in your pulse. the almost imaginary weight in your middle was replaced with the heft of the world champion title over your head as you held the trophy once more for photos. you knew that your career would be halted if not ended in the next few days.

you knew lando was watching, not because he had to. but, because he wanted to. your little rivalry had halted when you disclosed to him in quiet whispers that you were pregnant. and lando whispered promises of a wedding during the off season. something quiet, with family.

for now on the shiny stage, you were a champion. in a way you won the battle. but with the norris baby in your womb, lando won the war. <3

[xiaowhore]

hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

[miserycanary]

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 

| The letter: 

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[2tarbell]

can i just say that i love you?! you write trailerpark!rafe so well and i’ve waited so long to find a writer that created a work solely based on him! my obsession with trailerpark!rafe literally came from that short film drew did with rudy 😭😭

anyways i saw that you were looking for blurb ideas and honestly i can’t get trailerpark!rafe and reader doing cute domestic things together like going to the grocery store, washing the truck together, and maybe us seeing how rafe asked reader to move in with him and seeing his reaction to her adding her sweet touches to the place and making the trailer more homey for them.

thank u my love :C ur so sweet and i appreciate the message!!!! wrote something a little small just detailing rafe’s feelings about domestic stuff 💝 ENJOY!!!!

TRAILERPARK!RAFE who loves how reader has become his life.

he had watched her grow up beside him, neither family abundantly rich. but her chalk drawings of butterflies and hearts stretched along the path of her family home — the colors and softness always enraptured rafe, as well as the furrow of her brow when she yelled at him for killing some little bug. then she turned from a little girl with dirt on her cheeks into a mature woman with curves and determination she definitely didn’t have before.

he was sixteen when he fell in with love her, with her soul.

so he asked her to move in with him on their six month anniversary, all bashful and unsure in the way only she could make him. he was nervous about asking her to just come over, yet alone move in with him in such a shitty little trailer; void of decoration and love. he had always wanted to be more for her, for them. this precious woman that wormed her way into his heart since the moment they met at twelve.

it was cute, the way he was avoiding looking as he drove. she could see his ears turning a bit red, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. he’d been on edge the entire evening — shifty eyes and shaky hands so unlike the man she had come to know and love so dearly.

it all made sense when he spoke lowly, eyes still on the road ahead:

“so, uh... whaddaya— ahem… was thinkin’ ‘bout you maybe — uh — movin’ in?”

“you— you want me to?”

rafe couldn’t imagine anything better. so he nodded. and so did she.

the drive continued with her head on his shoulder, both biting back cheesy smiles at the next step they’d decided to take. rafe brought her hand to lips, pressing a long kiss to her knuckles — his fears of being not enough were washed away as his place eventually became their place.

there she was that very weekend, all tender and sweet and telling him where to put her stuff amongst his. he sees her in the furniture they picked, the flowers on the kitchen table, the pictures of them on the walls, in the very foundation of the trailer.

(then of course they fucked on every surface available, ‘christening’ the space.)

her hands soothing and gentle on his arms when he comes home to her. rafe never was good at being gentle like she is — he thinks loveliness lives in her bones as she kisses his cheek and mumbles something about dinner that she made him.

but it was the first night after they moved in together, he saw her in the bathroom preparing for bed and felt all air leave him. he can’t imagine a life without her in it. doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. the thought of a place without her burns in his mind — searing and almost painful. he can’t believe there was a time when she wasn’t his.

[samandcolbyownme]

I’ll Be Right Back | Chris Sturniolo

PART TWO

Summary - a one shot based off of this video (everyone say thank you @cursedtriplets for sending it to me)

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, small bit of fluff right at the start then it gets down and dirty, sexting, kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, dirty talk, biting, scratching, general filth

Word Count: 1.2k | unedited

——

Chris and Matt were live-streaming next door in Matt’s room, and as you watched the stream, there was only one thing you could focus on.

That was getting Chris to come over for a quickie.

You went into your texts with Chris, typing out a message.

Babyyyyyy

You hit send, going back to the stream to see his reaction. A small smirk appeared on his lips as he looks at his phone. He types something back and lays his phone down, going back to talking to Matt.

You see his text pop up at the top of your screen and you can’t help but smile just a little more:

What’s up ma?

You rolling over into your stomach as you typing out your message.

I neeeed you. Like right now.

You go back into the stream, seeing a smile grow on his face as he shakes his head. He nods, giving Matt some words as he types his reply to you.

You neeeed me right now for what baby?

You let out a sigh, annoyed that he wants you to spell it out for him when he knows exactly what you mean.

Please just come here so I can show you rather than tell you. I promise I’ll make it worth it.

You go back to the stream, biting your lip and watching. You see Chris stand up, pat Matt on the shoulder and leaning in to whisper, “I’ll be right back.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

You hear the door open and you lay your phone down, rolling over onto your back to see Chris walking over to you with a smirk.

“Hi.” You giggle, “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

He falls on top of you, placing his head by your head, “Uh huh.” He nods and connects his lips with yours. His hand moving down to push your shirt up.

You sit up, breaking the kiss to take it off and throwing it to the floor beside the bed. His lips kiss down your back and over your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth.

You gasp, moaning out quietly as your nails drag against his scalp, collecting his hair in your hand and tugging.

“Gotta make this quick, okay?” He looks up at you and you nod, “I don’t care, I just need you right now.” You pull him up to kiss him, “You looked so good on the stream.”

He smirks against your lips, “You think so?” He sits up, pulling his shirt off of his body. You nod, reaching out to touch him as he leans back down, “Oh yes.”

He connects his lips with yours and reaches down to push his shorts and boxers down. His hand slips in between your thighs, circling your underwear covered clit a few times before pushing them to the side, “You’re soaked, ma.”

You nod, “As I said.” You bite your lip, your breath hitching as you feel the tip of his cock rub against your opening, “You must look so go-“

Your words are cut short as he glides his cock into you, groaning lowly into your neck, “Fuck, feels so good, baby.”

Your legs tighten around his waist and you hand fists his hair, “F-fuck.”

“This what you wanted?” He asks, his voice low in your ear, “Making me leave the stream to come do this.”

You smirk, nodding your head, “Matt can manage without you for a few minutes.”

He chuckles, thrusting his cock deeper into you, “But you can’t, huh?”

Your back arches up off the bed, moaning out, “N-no, not at all.”

His hand comes up to lay over your mouth, “gotta be quiet, baby, okay?” He pulls out, thrusting back in and quickly getting into a rhythm.

Your legs hug him tighter, your hand reaches up to grab onto the pillow for leverage as pleasure radiates through your body, “Fuck.” You moan into his hand, eyes rolling shut as he slides a hand up to your throat.

“Fuck, ma. I can never say no to you.” Chris groans lowly, his grip on your throat grows tighter, “you feel so good.”

His lips attack your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin with his teeth.

His hand moves off of your lips and he replaces it with his lips, swallowing your moans as he thrusts into you deep.

You nails drag up his back, stopping to tangle within his hair, “So close, baby.” You whine quietly, the walls of your cunt squeezing his cock tight.

He groans, his hand brushing hair from your face, “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, ma, huh?”

You nod, head tilting back as he guides you closer and closer, “Yes, yes.” You gasp out, “M’gonna cum for you.”

He kisses down your neck and back up, “Wanna feel you.” He moans lowly, “Wanna feel you cum undone around me.”

You nod, your breath picking up quicker as you reach your peak. You pull him closer, moaning and whining lowly in his ear as you cum, “Fuck, fuck, Chris.”

“That’s it, baby.” He kisses your cheek, “Cum for me.”

You wrap your arm tight around his neck as you drag the nails of your other hand up his back, earning low groans and moans.

“How close are you?” You ask, kissing up his neck, “I wanna suck you off.”

He groans at your words, “Fuck, you keep talkin’ like that and I’ll cum right now.”

You smirk, pushing him up, “Lay back.”

He moves off of you, laying on his back and you waste no time moving over to sit between his legs on your knees, “I promised I’d make it worth it.”

He smirks, watching as you lean down to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. He gasps, groaning out as you swirl your tongue, “Fuck.”

You take more of him into your mouth, quickly getting into a steady bobbing rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s it.” Chris gasps out, his hand moving to lay on the back of your head, “Just like that, ma. Fuck.”

You moan around him, pushing your head down to take more of him in. He bucks his hips up, causing you to gag slightly, but you push through.

Your hand wraps around what isn’t already in your mouth and you stroke, twisting your hand on his spit covered cock and that’s what sent him over the edge.

His hand pushes your head down, hips bucking as his cock twitches and you feel his cum roll down your throat.

You lick him clean, sitting up with a smile, “Was it worth it?”

He smiles, tilting his head back as he groans, “Fuck yes.” He looks back up at you and he reaches out, pulling you in when you lay your hand in his.

He presses his lips to yours and he sits up, “When the stream is done, I’ll be back.”

“Oh, you’re not done?” You ask with a teasing tone, and he shakes his head as he stands up to fix his shorts, “Not even close.”

You smirk, covering up with the blankets as you watch him walk out. You get back on the stream and just by the look on Matt’s face, you can tell he knows what just happened.

——

It’s kind of short, but either way, I hope you liked it! I love you all thank you so much for reading! See you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and belongs are majorly appreciated!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Take Care of Me

Eddie Munson x inexperienced!fem!reader

summary: Eddie decides to tease you in the bedroom when he knows that you're needy. Little does he know that you also have a few tricks up your sleeve.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it before your smack it) masturbation (both f and m), touch denial, voyeurism, oral (m receiving) bondage, dom!eddie, dom!reader

part one part two part four

You had been extra needy ever since you and Eddie started sleeping together. You had been in between your sheets almost every night, but then work got busy for him and he was working late so it had been hard for him to come see you. So you had gone almost a week without him and you were starting to get desperate.

You had been using your vibrator like it was your job and had thought about sleeping with other people, but it wouldn't have been the same. Eddie had made it clear that you weren't exclusive and that you could do whatever you wanted, but it was hard to sleep with anyone else when he was just so good at what he did no matter what it was.

So, everything just came to a complete stop as you had waited for him to become available, staring at your phone screen to see if you had even gotta a text. When you didn't, you'd just lie in bed, pleasuring yourself, pretending that your fingers were Eddie's even though they didn't compare. you could get yourself there, but nearly as quick and it wasn't as fun doing it alone.

So one night you just texted him, getting so desperate that you felt like you were going to explode. You needed him and you needed him right then.

I need you so bad daddy

The message was sent in an instant as your need outweighed your usual nerves when it came to talking to Eddie. And he had replied immediately, your face lighting up when you saw he had responded, but your smile quickly faded once you saw what he had replied.

How bad?

He was such an ass sometimes, but you would have been lying if you said you didn't like it. All of the teasing was so exciting and new since Steve always gave you whatever you asked for on a silver platter.

Do you want me to send you a picture of how wet I am?

You were now growing frustrated with him, always seeming to walk right into his trap.

wow you really are needy

another text

keep your pants on alright I'm on my way

He seemed to have shown up at your door in record seep, knocking on it feverishly and you ripped it open, pulling him inside before pushing him onto the bed before crawling on top of him. Shit, you really were needy.

"Uh uh uh," he tisked as he held you at arms length, seeing your eyes getting hungry with desire. If he was going to fuck you, he was at least going to have some fun first.

“Gotta beg for me, baby,” he told you, a smirk playing on his pink lips.

“Beg?” You scoffed, climbing off of him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not begging.”

“Then I guess I’m just gonna have to show you what you’re missing.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs you had remembered seeing in his room. He unlocked them with his key then snapped, pointing to the bed.

“Bed,” he demanded and you felt a thrill rush through you as you followed his command. You lied flat on the mattress and Eddie moved to straddle your waist so you couldn’t go anywhere and raised your wrists above your head, pinning them to your headboard before locking them in place so you couldn’t go anywhere.

“You’re going to watch me get myself off and I want to hear you beg for me like your life depends on it, understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded, but Eddie didn’t seem to like your response.

“Yes what?” You immediately realized your mistake and knew you needed to fix it.

“Yes daddy,” you corrected and Eddie smiled down at you, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

“Good girl,” he responded before pressing his lips to yours. He then got off of you before moving to stand in front of your dresser that was right across from your bedside table so that you could see him perfectly.

He slowly removed all of his clothes as if he was performing a strip tease and you already found yourself to be filled with nothing but want. Knowing that you couldn’t have him drove you crazy, but you knew that the end would be so worth it.

His boxers were the last to go and he let them fall to the floor on top of his other clothes that were in a messy pile. As he reached for the lube bottle that was at the edge of the bed, you took your time to let your eyes rake over his body, still wondering how you were always able to get someone as hot as him into bed with you.

He sat on the edge of the bed so he was out of view and brought his lubed up hand up to his cock, giving it a few slow pumps, making sure to let out some dramatic moans. He chuckled to himself as he heard you attempt to get free.

“Easy there, baby. I’m just getting started.” His movements picked up as he pumped even faster, real moans falling from his mouth this time. His head fell back and you could see his eyes shutting tight as he got himself off.

“Eddie please,” you whined, wanting to finish the job for him, but it proved to be not that easy. He just shushed you then had the audacity to stand up from the bed, placing himself in your desk chair, wanting to give you a full view of what you were missing.

“Gonna need a little more from you. I don’t think you want it enough.”

“I want it. Want you so bad, daddy.”

“Just a little more,” he responded as he gave himself a few more quick pumps, already feeling like he was reaching his peak.

“Wanna suck you off so bad. My mouth is watering just look at you.” And it was. You could feel saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of finally tasting him for yourself.

And watching him get himself off seemed to make you want him even more. He was so hot sitting there jacking off, his loud moans filling your ears. The whole thing was definitely going to be living in your head rent free.

That seemed to do the trick because Eddie had finally reached his orgasm. You felt yourself getting wet at the sight and you were almost satisfied just watching him, but your need to have your way with him outweighed it.

His cock leaked with cum and you were now drooling, thinking about licking up every last drop and swallowing it down like you had been wanting to for so long.

“Alright,” he sighed once he had come down from his orgasm. He then grabbed the key from his pants and unlocked the handcuffs, freeing you.

He took you by the hands then pulled you over to the edge of the bed, sitting down on it while he forced you down onto your knees, loving how your eyes were filling with lust.

“Since you were so good. I think you deserve a treat.” He spread his legs wide and you couldn’t help but let your gaze move to his rock hard cock, cum smeared all over the head. “Go ahead,” he nodded his head towards it. You earned.”

You slowly moved towards him as he leaned back onto the bed with the palms of his hands, looking down at you knowingly. You had only given a few blowjobs in your lifetime so you weren’t exactly sure what to do, but you hoped that Eddie would have helped you if you did it wrong.

You wrapped one of your hands around the base and slowly inched the head towards your mouth, slipping it inside and letting your tongue swirl around it to get used to it. Eddie let out a gasp which was followed by another as you began to suck hard, trying to focus on what you remembered from doing it to other guys.

“Jesus, relax,” Eddie laughed. “God, you really did want me, huh?”

All you could do was nod as you licked and sucked on the head, finally getting comfortable and confident in what you were doing. And Eddie seemed to enjoy us as another moan fell from his lips. You glanced up at him and his eyes you were closed as he hummed in pleasure.

“Think you can take more of me?” He asked. “Bet it could all fit if you tried.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you could at least trying.

So you took a little more of him inch by inch as you continued to lick and suck on his cock, wanting to make sure that none of it went untouched by your tongue.

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “Just like that. Yep, just a little more.” You hadn’t even realized that you had gotten it all in until you were practically gagging on it, your nose practically brushing the hair right above the base.

You continued to lick and suck on him as he as he grabbed onto the back of your head, pushing his cock in and out of your mouth as you tried to keep up with him. He was close. You could see it as he eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head.

“So this is the only way to keep you quiet, hm?” He asked. “Gotta fuck your mouth like this so you’ll stop being such a whiny brat.” And soon after that, he moaned so loudly that you were sure that your neighbors could hear it as his cum leaked onto your tongue. You pulled him out of your mouth and looked up at him as you swallowed, the stuff feeling a bit weird as it went down.

Eddie collapsed onto the bed as he came down from his orgasm and you stood up, an idea suddenly coming to you.

You helped him sit up then grabbed onto he back of his head, forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Want a taste?” You asked as you raised your chin where there were still remnants of his cum still there. “C’mon, know you want to.”

You brought his face closer to yours and he stuck his tongue out, bringing it to your chin, giving it a few slow strokes which was unusual for him.

“Now c’mon, baby, you can do better than that. More enthusiasm.”

Eddie really liked seeing that side of you, how you were able to take charge so easily after the few times you’d slept together. Maybe the student really was becoming the master.

“See?” You asked as he got more rough licking your chin. “See how good your taste?”

And he had to agree. Completely unlike anything he had ever tasted before. But he was pretty sure that most of the good taste was just you.

He tongue moved up and tried to move into your mouth, but you pushed him back with a shake of your head.

“I think you deserve a taste of your own medicine,” you told him and his mouth fell open as he started to realize that he had created a monster.

You began to strip, slowly removing your clothes and touching yourself in the ways that you knew he loved to touch you.

You watched him slowly sit up as you unbuttoned your cardigan, revealing the lacy black bra underneath. The cardigan was tossed to the floor and you moved your hand up to your bra, removing both of the straps from your shoulders then reaching back to undo the clasp.

The bra fell to the floor and then you reached up and brought your thumb up to your nipple, moving it in a circular motion until it was hard, moaning dramatically just like Eddie did before moving onto the other one.

You had him right where you wanted him as you watched his mouth fall open, nothing but whines spilling from it. You then pulled down your skirt and let it pool at your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your thong.

Your fingers pressed against the middle of your tits then slowly moved down to your thong, putting a thumb in each of the bands and pulling down, your body now fully naked. Eddie went to stand up, but you just pushed him back down, your eyes darkening as you did so.

“Uh uh uh,” you shook your head. “Gotta watch the show first.”

Your fingers went straight for your cunt and it took everything in Eddie not to take you right there against the dresser. He watched your every move, your moans mixing together as you pumped your fingers in and out of you and he watched. God, what he would have given to have those be his fingers.

He could practically feel how wet you were and felt himself getting hard all over again. And once you reached your orgasm, your pulled your fingers from your cunt, licking them clean before moving towards Eddie.

You pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, slowly sinking onto him as you began to ride him, finally taking the reins on being on top for once.

“Is this okay?” You asked and he nodded furiously. “Yep, I’m good.”’

“Me too. And I’m on birth control.”

He bucked against your hips as your pace picked up, loving how he looked underneath you as you pinned his wrists to the bed.

“Don’t I look better on top?” You asked. “Don’t you just love when I take control?”

“I do, I really do. Who knew you’d be the one who was dominant?”

Your pace picked up, but you could see that he was already spent, fighting to put in the work. You honestly never thought he’d be the one who couldn’t hold out. And that was fine. You just wanted to make sure that he was fully conscious and enthusiastic.

“Alright,” you sighed, climbing off of him. “Bed time.”

“No,” he whined, making grabby hands at you as you tossed his boxers at him.

“Baby, you’re slurring you told him. Now put on your boxers and I promise I’ll rock your world in the morning.”

“Deal,” he slurred and the two of you got into bed as you looked forward for what Eddie had in store next.

[gamblersdoll]

fwb, relationships, small angst, smut. long fic alert, not proof read, some fluff and some jokey jokes :p worked on this since 11 am.

katsuki bakugou didnt do the whole relationship thing. he felt like it was.. too intimate, too intense for him. a mere distraction for him and his career.

he thinks hes the only one who thinks that, seeing how shitty hair and pinky got together. the way that idiot and the emo chick were always together— fuck, chargebolt made her his whole life, which was fucking ridiculous.

he was more fond of the casual fucking, either going on tinder or hinge or whatever fucking apps there were. his account was booming though, several thousand of messages every five minutes. it annoyed him, shockingly.

“dude, can i get a fuckin’ minute of peace?” he barks out, silencing his phone and pinching his bridge.

“bro, you literally downloaded a dating slash fucking app, and you are the second pro hero.” kirishima reminded him, feet on the coffee table and swigging his soda. “get what you paid for.”

“get your fucking feet off’a my damn table, are you a caveman?”

he hated how kirishima was right, thinking he wouldnt get some kind of attention from an app when he was a hero, an attractive one at that.

so he deleted it, he’ll try going out more than possibly be stalked on a dating app.

he hated how every woman threw themselves at him when they saw him, he doesnt like that much attention. even in highschool, it overwhelms him. every girl in this damned bar was all over him.

well… excepting one. which so happened to be you, you just wanted to be left alone and drink to your hearts content. bakugou can clearly see that, and keeps an eye on your for a bit. later on though? oh he’s gotten loose enough to finally come up to you with ease.

“what’cha drinkin?” he asks, an arm supporting his weight on the bar table.. his cheeks were a slight pink, but he doesnt drink enough to make himself so tipsy or drunk.

“strawberry mimosa?” you chuckle, it literally says it on the can. “you must be blind or drunk to not be able to see that.”

an eyebrow of his quirks up, he’s intrigued. “i ain’t drunk, hon’.” he chuckles, “and do you even know who i am?”

“even if you are the ‘great explosion murder god, dynamight,’ yer off duty.” you snark back, hearing a baritone laugh come from his throat.

“and how would you know that?”

“well, pretty sure they wouldnt let you drink onna’ job.” you retort, turning to him now and crossing your legs. you hear a ‘yeah?’ and you nod.

“you sure, sweetheart?” he asks, taking another sip of his ‘oktober fest’. he sees you nod, and he hums. “how are you so sure?”

“pretty sure its common knowledge, but, common sense aint common no more.” you pull the final last word, dynamight nodding and tilting his drink to yours. you both clink your drinks together, holding the eye contact that he initiated.

the drive home was hell, the way he had struggled to keep his eyes on the road, your foot sliding across his lap and feeling him slowly get solid by the second.. you were a little vixen werent you? and to open the door without dropping you was more smooth than anything.

he practically ripped your clothes off, a nipple becoming his first victim and you arching into his mouth. he chuckled, youre so sensitive, arent you baby?

god, he hasnt had a good pussy in a long time.

his body molded into yours, kissing your neck and then lying you down and dragging his tongue down your supple skin until he got to your ankles, then back up to your nipples.

he never kissed your lips though, yet, he also didnt taste you.

the crack of the morning dawn showed its ass bright and early, your frame still within the bed and he was on the other side. interestingly, you both groan groggily and flutter your eyes open, head peering up and looking around.

lucky for you both, you werent hung over. you both peak over to each other.

one blink, two blinks, three blinks… bitch, say something!

“uh—“ you both say, redirecting your gazes and chuckling.

“you wanna go or me go?” he asks, watching you point to him and he nods. “did you like last night?” he asks, just a common courtesy to ask. he sometimes cared. it just depended on how you were in bed.

“i liked it,” you said, getting up and putting your panties on. “i did sleep with the second pro hero.”

he hums only.

“did you walk or drive to the bar?” he asks, pulling up ‘uber’ and looking to you. you mutter a ‘walk.’ and you give him the addresses to your house.

“you just randomly give out your address?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and hes hunched over.

“you just sleep with random people you dont know?”

he sucks his teeth, “you got such a mouth on you.” he taps on the confirmation button, “your uber will be here in thirty.”

“you seemed to love it last night, dynamight.” you glares at you for a second, you putting your dress back on and smirking. “but thank you, sir.”

sir?

you both make small talk, until the uber gets here and dynamight walks you to the car. he leans against the door frame, watching you strap in and take off.

katsuki bakugou wasnt a relationship type man. no, those were distracting and too intense for him. but yet, he invited you over again after exchanging numbers.

this was just casual sex, nothing more nothing less.

“you mean to fuckin tell me—“ he cuts himself off, pausing the show that you both were watching. “you ain’t never had your pussy eaten?”

“well.. no? thats bad?” you ask, taking a sip of the apple cider he brought from his fridge. “you cant get mad either, you haven’t either.”

“i had eaten something spicy, you want burnin’ pussy?” he retorts, taking a sip of water to cleanse his palette. “dont answer that, just lie the fuck back.” he shakes his head, softly pushing you back.

“sir, yes sir.” you joke, feeling his body weight hover over you and kiss your neck. you moan, feeling your shirt be pushed up and shorts be pulled down. he kisses your inner thigh, licking a long stripe up your bare clit— you pulling back for a second.

he peers up at you, heavy and lidded eye’s looking at you. “you good?” he asks, pausing all movement. you nod, feeling him hum and then slowly and softly kiss your clit again. you settle down, moaning his hero name, thats all you know him by.

“call me katsuki, hon’.” he mumbles in your pussy, spreading your lower lips apart and putting your clit in his mouth. he suckles on it like the sweetest candy he’s tasted, his cock starting to get harder by the second.

your breath is starting to hitch, a hand flying to his hair and gripping at the root. he grunts, eyes rolling back for a second and then hips bucking into the couch.

“fuck— mhm.. pull my shit, baby.” he groans, moving down your slit and putting your legs onto his shoulders. his tongue alone is making you clamp down on nothing, he can feel it.

your hips move on their own, grinding down against his lips and chin and he lets you use him, use him to make you feel good and cum on his face like no other. he takes pride in this, being the only one whos ever made you writhe in pleasure because of him.

“go ‘head, come on my face, mama.” and that only set you off, legs trying to close as your orgasm ripples through you in waves and he laughs, rubbing circles in your clit to add more to it. you try to close your legs, you try to push his hands away, only for him to swat at them. “aht aht, dont you fuckin’ go anywhere.”

you lie limp, feeling drained and youre trying to come down from your high and how good it feels to be devoured by him. “you said.. katsuki?” you whisper, and he finishes cleaning up the spit that dribbled down your cheeks and up your back.

“yeah.” he reiterated, pulling your shorts back up and patting your clothed cunt, watching you jerk.

katsuki bakugou wasnt into relationships, no, fuck that. he wasnt into the intense stuff and was damn sure not really intimate.

but yet, he finds himself liking the little things on social media, primarily tiktok. he hates the way people look so happy within relationships, some of them even being heros in different countries or even just here. but, he hates the way it gives him ideas, and brings a smile to his face.

ping!

he looks back at your messages, a small smile on his face and he feels his heart race—

the fuck was his heart racing for?

“do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he replies back, feeling a pang in his chest, but it wasnt out of fear or anything. he watches the three bubbles pop up, and your response is all he wanted to read.

‘sure, surprise me.’

and he does, taking you to a michelin starred restaurant and making you order the most expensive thing. because he would feel bad if he only order the most expensive things, right?

“do you like it?” he asks, cutting into the steak that he ordered and watching you eat your food.

“yeah, i do. i just sometimes eat slow.” you reply, him nodding and then tapping his foot. “do you mind if i take it home?”

“… why would i be mad if you took food home, stupid?” he asks, like you just asked him if he claps with shitty hands.

“just askin..” you say, watching him wave over the waiter and ask for a box and the check. “we can split the bill if you want.”

he darts his eyes back to you, scrunching his face up and giving you a once over.

“what?”

“split the bill?” he asks, making sure he heard you right. you nod, and he nods with you. “give me yo fuckin’ wallet.”

“because i asked if you want to split the—?”

“did i speak japanese? give me your damn wallet.” he snarks back, snatching your wallet from your fingers and putting his metal card on the check book. “some damn split the bill.”

“well sorry..” you mumble, putting the left over food in the box.

“you can tell me how sorry you are later when we get home.” he suggests, an eyebrow raised at you and a smirk. “you can choose how much to tip.”

“deal.”

both of you could barely get up the stairs, him slamming you against the walls of the corridor that lead to upstairs, but hes already on his knees and shoving your panties to the side, spitting and licking on your pussy.

“wrap this around— yeah, good job.” he praises, holding you up by your legs and thrusting into your soppy walls. “fuck, yer tight tonight.”

your fingers pull at the root of his hair, open mouth moaning against his neck and kissing at it. you feel his groans reverberate in your body. “katsukiiii..” you moan, biting your lip.

“yeah, yeah, yeah, there ya’ goo..” he strews out praises, pressing his head against yours and kissing your neck back. “make me proud, thats it.”

“gunna cum.. gonna cum, kats—“ you say, feeling you clamp and feeling your walls contract against his walls of the house. he grunts, spilling his seed within the condom and growls in your neck.

“hey.. katsuki?” you asked, lying next to him in his bed. he opens his eyes, looking down to you.. “can i ask you something?”

“ask away.” he says, patting your rear and focusing in on you.

“why dont you ever kiss me?” you ask, he furrows his eyebrows, leaning up a bit.

“i do kiss you?” he retorts, something that he doesnt understand. the fuck were you talking about? he kisses you.. he kisses your neck, your head, your fucking pussy for crying out loud.

“yeah, everywhere but my lips.” you reject, sitting up and watching his movements.

he tilts his head for a bit, clicking his tongue. “thats just too intense and intimate for me. and, quite frankly, im not into it.” he admits, then he watches you frown. “what you frowin’ for?”

“we are literally laying in the bed, in nothing but boxers and a shirt and panties.” you remind him of your situation, the fuck did he mean it was ‘too intimate?’ “how can this not be intimate, but a kiss is?”

“this..” he circles to you and himself, “this is just casual fucking.” he tries to remind you, but he starts to grow agitated when you get up and start clothing yourself. “the fuck you doin?”

“this is just casual? but yet you took me on a fucking date.” you say, growing agitated and frustrated yourself.

“that was dinner, not a date.” hes starting to get annoyed, thats why he didnt do this shit often. “i am in no fucking bounds to you, youre not fucking special.” he says, running his fingers through his hair and breathing through his nose.

you stare at him, putting your shoes on and then grabbing your purse. “youre right, im sorry.” you say, grabbing your phone as well and then looking back to katsuki. “ill see you later, ‘kay?”

he stays quiet, getting up to open the door for you and then closing it behind. “for fucking christs sakes..”

he goes back to the king sized bed, closing his eyes and turning the television off. this night already went to shit, and he just wanted to sleep it off.

he wakes up the next day, he’s got another two hours before he goes into patrol. he figured he could just text you to come over, its a new day and apologize, have you stay for a couple hours until he came home and fix something.

“hey, you wanna come over and talk about it?” he typed, sending it to you and waiting for your reply.

twenty minutes had past, its weird. usually youd be up by this hour, but eventually you did respond a thumbs up, and he tided up the living room and waits on you.

“hey.” he gruffly says, letting you in and closing the door behind you. he smells something strong. “did you use incense or some shit?”

“no, its body spray.” you say, plopping on the couch and he smells it again, then it wakes him up even more.

“you wanna try again?” he asks, folding his arms and holding his scowl. “did you just come from someone else’s house?”

you stay quiet, staring at him. the fuck did he want from you?

“you fucked another guy?” he asked again, caging you in and staring into you. “because im not in the fucking mood for these fucking games.”

“am i not allowed to?” you ask, getting to his level as well and then matching his scowl. “im in no fucking bounds to you.”

“so you want to be fucking petty, thats what the fuck this is?”

“to the fuckin’ t.” you respond, grabbing your things and shoving past him. he grabs your arm, pulling you back and staring into your soul.

“who the fuck was it?”

“none of your fucking business, i didnt ask you about the bitches you be fucking that’s not me.” you retort, but it only deepens his scowl, into a face filled with venom.

“i dont be fuckin other bitches.” he growls, then scoffs when you laugh softly. “the fuck is funny?”

“you dont be fuckin other girls?”

“why the fuck would i?” he asks, putting his hands in the air in confusion. “you think i just spread my legs to anyone and everything?”

“wow, i must be so special to know and have that.” you snarkily say, walking to the door.

he groans in agitation and yells. “bitch, fuck you!”

“fuck you, too bitch!” you shout back as he makes his way to you and you slam the door behind you.

the fuck were you both even arguing for?

bakugou wasnt the same after that, he was more stressed at work, feeling the after effects of the argument and not hearing from you in weeks. its shown in the way he fights the villains on the job, a tad bit— no, alot more aggressively than usual.

and he wasn’t going out anymore, just work, gym, then home. he wasnt in the mood, he felt… alone, depressed, like he was missing something.

he had everything that hes had, so what could possibly be fucking missing?

he scrolls on his timeline, seeing that you posted another story at work. he felt his heart pang, a knee bouncing, and like he wanted to reach out.

was he seriously missing you right now?

he sucks his teeth, his head dropping and he’s feeling like such a fucking idiot. he felt it, like he couldnt go a couple of days without you. he needed relief, a certain one.

you both meet up at the bar, the same very place you met and then flirted hard. he watches you sit down, a new dress, huh?

you looked so damn gorgeous, it genuinely pissed him off.

“what do you want?” you ask, telling the bartender for a strawberry mimosa, your usual.

“i..” he tries to say, he hasnt done the whole ‘im sorry’ thing since highschool. “i was wrong.” he admits, staring back at you and watching your face. “was wrong fer callin’ you a bitch, and saying you werent special. and fer gettin’ mad that you slept with someone else.”

“hm.” you hum, tapping your foot and holding your drink. “ill let you in on a secret through the grape vine.” you say, watching him raise a single eyebrow.

“i didnt sleep with some other dude, it was your old cologne.” you say, watching his face contort into confusion. “you showed me an old cologne you used to wear when you were scrolling on tiktok with me. you were half asleep though.”

it all finally clicks when he remembers, and he rubs his face in pure embarrassment and anger. “im going to fucking kill you, bitch.” he says, not truly angry, but embarrassed.

you laugh, and his chest feels less tight. “im sorry for doing that, just tried to show you that what you said wasnt cool.”

“i respect that.” he says, drinking his moonshine.

“thats such a bitch drink..” you watch him swig, and he growls.

“says the one drinking a gotdamn mimosa.” he retorts, and you both finally have a good laugh after about thirteen minutes in.

he feels good, better.

katsuki bakugou wasnt the relationship guy, its too much for him.

but with the way he has you laying ontop of him, a discarded used condom in the trash bin next to his bed. he liked where he was at, the way the sun shined on your face and skin.. he pondered at the earliest hours of the morning. he didnt have to work today, that was good for him since he had you to spend time with. might even a plan a date for you tonight—

a date? the fuck?

he feels himself inclined to you, watching tiktok on the lowest volume so you dont awaken. he keeps seeing these couple tiktoks, watching how they go from tinder, to being married and shit.

could.. could that happen to you? he feels sick, like he was getting clammy and his heart pounded, a imaginative feeling that he finally proposes to you, gives you a couple brats that run around the house he just bought—

…aw fuck no.

“which dress fits me more?” you rummage through the hangers of dresses in the store, he only watches you and picks one out in particular. a split thigh dress with sleeves, since it was about to be fall. “oh, so you want my ass to fall out?”

“your ass aint going to fall out.” he chuckles, pulling it and putting it against you. “youd look good though.”

“would i really?”

he tilts your head up to his, looking into your eyes instead of your soul this time. “always.” he watches you get heated in the face, pulling away out of flustering and scramble to the next aisle.

once you finally start to check out everything, which was just a mere dress that he suggested and some more shirts, you pull your wallet out, just for him to slap it out of your grasps.

“the fuck?!” you say, picking it up and the cashier was already inserting his card.

“told you that when youre with me, i pay.” he reminds, taking the receipt and bag and then holding the door for you.

“did you have to slap my wallet out my hand, though? couldve been robbed!” you say, putting it back in your purse and grumbling.

“anyone trying to rob you infront of me is just stupid.”

“i guess..”

eventually when you got home, katsuki put the goods down onto the couch and then headed to the kitchen, cranking up the flames on his stove. “oh em gee, youre going to cook for me?”

“why did you say it like that, you dumbass?” he turns to you, a confused but laughing face. “yes, im cooking. you need to stop eating out as much.”

“i eat out maybe twice a week.” you say, and he purses his lips. “what? you saying im big?”

“i did not say that.” he growls, tossing the pan and sautéing the veggies. “what?” he asks, seeing your concerned face.

“you have no care for your pans or pots..” you say, watching his shrug and mock you. “on tonight’s episode of hells kitchen..”

“gordon ramsey wouldnt last thirty minutes with me.” he comments, shaking his head and sighing. “im the best cook.”

“no objections.”

and he was, making you a chicken bowl with rice, sautéed vegetables and toasted brioche bread. “thank you, katsu.” you say, the nickname rolling off of your tongue and you didn’t really think of it, but kissing his cheek.

he freezes, staring at you and an eye twitches.

“…what? did i have to brush my teeth after every meal too?”

“katsukii katsuki katsuki!” you moan out, legs pressed to your ears as he pounded away into your cervix. he growls into your ear and pulls you back up, flipping you onto your stomach and wrapping his arm around your throat, holding you in a headlock.

he groans, drilling his cock into your gummy spot that made you see stars like no other. this was more rougher, deeper, and fast paced than any other of your fucks. this one felt.. different.

all because of a fucking kiss on the cheek.

“katsuki!” you squealed strained, eyes rolling back and gritting your teeth trying to endure his cock inside of your fluttering walls.

“fuckin cum, beg me to let you cum.” he growls with venom, and desperation runs him completely now. he hears you, crying out his name and then fucking him back. “fucking god—hah!”

you cream along his shaft, his cock starting to twitch and he drags you up again, putting you back into missionary to slip away into your spasming cunt to just still inside and keep going.

“k-katsuki what are you?—“ he cuts you off by crashing his lips onto yours, a pang into your chest and arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. he groans in the kiss, stopping his hips.

he pulls away, looking down to you with a narrowed gaze. “what?” you ask, his face getting a little bit softer.

“i dont want to just casually fuck with you anymore.” he says, getting closer to you. “think… think im in love with you.”

“..so.. because i have sex with you, youre in love with me?” you ask, his face dropping and he flicks your head. “ow— fucker!”

“no, stupid..” he says, “i like the moments we dont fuck. like dinner dates and the.. domestic shit i guess.” he says, biting his lip.

“so you admit that they were dates?” you snicker, and he chuckles in defeat.

“whatever you wanna call them, baby.” he says, but puts a hand on your cheek and. “i love you.”

you try to take it serious, but one factor. “can you tell me this without your cock being in me?” you ask, he shakes his head and pulls his hips back, allowing you to sit up.

“love you.” he says, his heart beating out of his ass.. or so it feels like it.

“i love you too, dummy.”

“now you fuckin ruined my moment.”

[itneverendshere]

it's my party, and i'll cry if i want to - r.c

request: I was wondering if you might write a Rafe x reader fic where Rafe forgets her birthday but then makes up with her?

you spent the entire day oscillating between disappointment and sadness. 

crying on your birthday was a common thing when you were growing up, a girlhood achievement. everyone did it.

but now? now that you had rafe? your birthdays were amazing. he always went out of his way to surprise you and cherish you. he would’ve never forgotten something as important as your day. 

at least you didn’t think he would, until today. yeah, long-distance had been tough on both of you since college started, and while rafe usually tried his best to make you feel special, today was different.

it had been radio silence. no messages. no missed calls. not even an instagram story reaction. and now, it was already past midnight, the day officially over. your birthday had come and gone, and he hadn’t acknowledged it once.

you lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to rationalize the situation. 

maybe something came up. maybe he had a family emergency or got caught up in one of his class projects. you wanted to believe that. rafe had never been perfect, but he had always tried when it came to you. this, though? It felt like a gigantic slap in the face. 

the soft sound of your door creaking open startled you from your thoughts. your heart raced in your chest, confused. you lived alone off-campus—no one ever came by unannounced. you sat up, wiping at your tired eyes, and just as you were about to call out, you saw him.

rafe stood there, looking haggard, his clothes slightly wrinkled, his hair messy from a long day. but the sight of him, standing in your doorway, made your heart stop. he was there. in person.

“rafe?” you nearly gasped, “what—what are you doing here?”

his blue eyes were filled with guilt, brows furrowed, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. he dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and took a hesitant step toward you. “baby—” his voice cracked. “’m so fucking sorry.”

you blinked, trying to process what was happening. “sorry for what? for not calling? for forgetting? for ignoring me all day?” you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so broken, but goddamit it was your birthday. and you spent it all alone because you were too depressed to step foot outside your stupid apartment without a text from him.

he took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “didn’t forget, baby. i swear. i was trying to surprise you, i was supposed to be here hours ago, but—” he sighed deeply, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “everything went to shit.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“i booked a flight,” he explained quietly, sitting down on the edge of your bed, his knee brushing against yours. “wanted to fly in and surprise you, to spend the whole day with you for your birthday. i didn’t want to say anything because i thought it’d be more special if i just showed up, y’know? but god must hate me or some bullshit.”

you watched him carefully, your heart beating faster, unsure where he was going with this.

“the flight got delayed—twice. then it got canceled. i spent hours trying to get on another one, but there were no other options. by the time i finally landed, it was already after midnight.” he looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously. “and i know that’s no excuse, but—”

“why didn’t you call me?” you asked, “you could’ve let me know.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “couldn’t. my phone, uh, it broke.”

“what?” you asked, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “when the flight got canceled for the second time, i—uh—i might’ve thrown my phone against a wall. i was so pissed baby, so stressed because i knew i was ruining the surprise, and then…i couldn’t even call or text you. i was stuck.”

you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. the image of rafe, frustrated and angry at an airport, throwing his phone in a fit of rage was almost too ridiculous to believe. 

“so, you didn’t forget?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. you spent the entire day making up scenarios in your head, about how maybe he’d gotten tired of being with you, how maybe he had found someone new back in college.

“no, god, no,” he shook his head fervently. “i’d never forget your birthday.”

the sincerity in his voice made you want to cry like a baby all over again. there was still the lingering ache of loneliness and insecurity, of the day you spent thinking he had.

“i thought…” you swallowed, unable to hold back the tears, “i thought you didn’t care anymore. that we weren’t… enough. i was scared,” you admitted after a long pause. “that maybe you were pulling away. maybe we weren’t working anymore.”

rafe’s brows furrowed, and he quickly shook his head. “no. never. we’re working, okay? this long-distance bullshit—it sucks. but you and me? it’s forever, okay?”

you nodded slowly, “i really missed you.”

his expression dropped at your words, and in an instant, he was pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. his scent, the feel of him, it was all so familiar, so comforting. you buried your face in his chest.

“shh, baby,” he murmured, his hand running soothingly through your hair as he kissed the top of your head. “’m so sorry. i never meant to hurt you. fuck, i hate that i made you feel like that. i wanted today to be perfect for you.”

you sniffled, trying to calm your breathing as you clung to him. “it wasn’t perfect.”

“i know,” he whispered, “i messed up. should’ve found a way to reach you, should’ve figured it out. you don’t deserve that, not on your birthday, not ever.”

he had tried. he had wanted to be here. and while it hadn’t gone the way either of you planned, his presence now, his arms around you, felt like all you needed.

“you threw your phone?” you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite everything.

rafe’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he chuckled softly. “yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, shattered pretty badly. i don’t even know if I can get it fixed.”

“that’s so stupid.”

he laughed softly at your words, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were still nestled. his arms tightened around you just a little, as if he was scared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. “i was so pissed, baby. i thought I was ruining everything.”

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from the tears you’d been holding in all day. “you did ruin it,” you teased softly, though there was no real bite behind your words.

rafe still winced even thought he could tell you were joking, “maybe i could’ve borrowed someone’s phone at the airport, or... i don’t know, sent a smoke signal or something.”

it wasn’t the grand birthday surprise he’d been planning, and it wasn’t the perfect day you had imagined, but right now, having him here—seeing how much he cared—it was starting to feel like enough.

you snorted, “smoke signal, huh?”

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you as you audibly cooed at his dimples, "yeah, or, like... maybe hired a skywriter? whatever it took. i would've done anything to get to you."

you chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes, the lingering tears drying up now, “so dramatic.”

“’m serious,” he insisted as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks. “i’d swim across the damn ocean for you if i had to. swear to god, baby. nothing was going to stop me from getting here.”

the love in his eyes took your breath away. he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; you could see in his face, that he meant every word. the frustration and desperation of the day had taken its toll on him too. he had been trying so hard to be with you, to make your day special, and in that moment, you know much he hated that he couldn’t.

“you’ll make me cry again,” you groaned, feeling your heart swell with emotion. it wasn’t perfect, but the lengths he had gone to just to be with you made you want to kiss him stupid. he was here now, holding you like you were his entire world.

he leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips as he murmured, “’m sorry i messed it up. i hate that you spent the day feeling like i didn’t care. you mean everything to me.”

tour chest tightened, “i felt so alone, didn’t know what to think.”

“i know,” he replied softly, his hands gently holding your face. “but sweetheart, i don’t care if we’re a thousand miles apart, i’ll always be here when you need me. ’m not going anywhere.”

the tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness, only from the overwhelming love you felt for him, for the boy who would go to any lengths just to be by your side.

“i love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you spoke the words.

rafe smiled, his eyes softening as he kissed you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a slow, tender moment. “i love you too. so much.”

you sighed into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his messy hair, pulling him closer. the pressure that had been sitting in your chest all day seemed to disappear as his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, as if he could keep all the hurt and disappointment away just by being near. it was just rafe—his hands gripping you like he couldn’t imagine to let you go, his lips coaxing out all the tension and loneliness you’d felt throughout the day. 

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “so… about the whole swimming across the ocean thing. think you’d be impressed?”

you giggled, rolling your eyes. “you’d probably drown halfway.”

“oh? so what i’m hearing is you don’t want your present.”

you nudged him playfully with your elbow. “i deserve at least three.”

“you want more presents now? greedy.”

you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the closeness, “you haven’t even wished me a happy birthday.”

he leaned back, elbows hitting the mattress as his lips morphed into a shit-eating grin, “was planning on doing it inside of you.”

you slapped his stomach, “don’t be disgusting.”

rafe’s grin only grew wider, clearly proud of himself. “just for you, baby,” he teased, sitting up to lean in close again, his lips ghosting over yours as he added in a low whisper, “happy birthday.”

the low timber in his voice and that god-sent southern drawl sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot all about the worst birthday of your life. the way he was looking at you now, like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made everything else seem insignificant.

“you’re lucky you’re hot,” you murmured, kissing him softly, your lips brushing against his with a tenderness that made his heart do that funny thing.

“damn right,” he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you back with more fervor, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “gonna make it up to you. all of it.”

you could only tilt your head back slightly as he kissed his way down your neck, your hands fisting in his hair, “i have class at 8.”

“nah,” he breathed against your skin, nose running up your neck, “you’re not leaving this bed for the next twenty-four hours.”

you couldn't help but smile as his lips trailed over your skin, “twenty-four hours?” you repeated breathlessly, your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, your heart fluttering. “you think i’ll skip class for you?”

he grinned against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing, “know you will,” he murmured, his hands wandering over your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

a soft laugh escaped you, "you're so cocky.”

"confident," he corrected with a smirk, lifting his head to meet your gaze. he brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch soft despite his rough hands, “i’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you. making sure you know just how much i love you.”

leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath your hands. 

“i love you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice barely a breath, but in that moment, you knew he heard every word.

“i love you more.”

[scoops-aboy86]

Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.

But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.

So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)

And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"

Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.

Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.

The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.

Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.

By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."

Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

[prncessjaeger]

eren and his mystery cheerleader gf! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

syp: no one believed eren had such a pretty gf…until now

trin speaks!: be mindful i might have errors. it’s normal.  

“so where’s your so-called "girlfriend" at? or did you make this one up too like the last time-”

“oh fuck off, connie, that was one time, and i was 12!” the rest of his friends surrounding him laughed at his embarrassment, (apparently he was the only one without a girlfriend so he made up having one…like i’m talking fake messages and everything.) currently, they were at a rival school’s basketball game since you didn’t go to their school and of course eren decided to come and support you…but his friends armin, connie, and onyankopon tagged along with him, wanting to see who his “special lady” was. “so is the game gonna start or…?” “uh, i think? it just turned 6-” armin was cut off with a set of claps and loud stomps from the side of the bleachers, cheerleaders could be heard shouting a set of words while the boys ran out through the middle of them. parents, children and other spectators could be heard yelling in excitement for the intense game that was yet to happen. 

eren looked around to spot you, finding you sitting on the bottom bleacher scrolling on your phone, and the boys traced his eyesight, “bro no way you date that girl sitting on the bottome row?” “huh?” connie pointed at you, “her? she’s toooo fine to be dating you-” “hey?! what’s wrong with me?” “-she should be dating me!” everyone around him rolled their eyes, “if anything she should date me, black love is the best love-” “right, but she’s entitled to date anyone she dates, besides we don’t know her,” armin was received with blank stares from all three of em while ignoring eren’s mumbling claims of, “i’m the one dating her,” soon or later it was halftime, which was a break time for everyone.

the dance team began to perform and all the cheerleaders went their separate ways. connie and armin went to concessions and onyankopon was talking with a girl he’d just met, so eren searched and searched for you, until he felt a pair of cold, soft hands hindering his vision. “guess whooo~”

“my beautiful baby i’d hope?” you kept his eyes covered as you moved infront of him, then removed them happily, “well you hoped right! hi eren!” you hugged him and sat next to him, leaning into his arms, “oh wait- you see our new uniforms?” “yes, its looks amazing- they added glitter to the school letters?” your curls shooks as you rapidly nodded, “yes! and the other sports coaches complained about it, wanting the letters to be unisex but i mean, glitter is glitter, and THEN the coaches made us run 5 laps before the game because someone left their bow at home, and now…” he turned towards you so he could listen to you better, and once the buzzer went off, you had to bid your goodbye, “you taking me home?” “you think you could ride home with sasha - i have the guys and i don’t wanna make it too crowded, i’ll get you once you get home?” your slight frown turned upside down and you noddied happily, “okay! see ya!” you waved enthusiastically and he waved back, sighing in content. “who’re you waving at?”

“my girlfriend?” they all stared at eren for like 5 seconds, then bursted out laughing at him, “oh man eren, you are too funny!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after dropping his friends off, eren sat outside your home, waiting for your arrival and decided to do something that’ll hopefully get into his friends head that he’s actually dating someone. he smirked at his phone, editing up his caption and nearly jumped hearing his car door open, seeing you in his hoodie and some cute grey shorts, “hey baby,” you kissed his cheek and saw his phone, “uhh why are you…?”

“you’ll see.”